"I don't think those are hard and fast rules, Cas," Dean exhales, trying to process the novelty of being touched like this, every nerve in his body suddenly hardwired to the simple sweep of Castiel's fingers.

He clears his throat, the air in the car suddenly too close, and grins. "Haven't been on a date in decades, anyway, what do I care about rules? C'mon."

Yanking off his seatbelt with minimal wrestling around his cast, Dean gets out, running around to Castiel's side to get the door for him.