He smiles a little when you snuggle closer and adjust their positions so it's more comfortable for both of them. You fit against him fairly well, your frame not quite as narrow as a woman's, but slim enough to make a good fit. The comfortable, warm buzz of having you next to him and touch him returns when he feels your nose against his neck. He tips his head a little to the side to give you better access, then grunts when he can feel your teeth scraping over his jaw. You're not bad at this at all, Cas.

When he comes up to the field you mentioned, he remembers it. He's driven past it often enough. He slows down, pulls off the road, his arm around you tightening as the Impala bounces over uneven ground. He smiles a little when you suggest that they could get burgers, presses the clutch down and eases the car to a stop far enough from the road to be hidden from unlikely passer-bys. Then he shifts a little to the side to be able to look at you more easily.

"We could do that. If we can find a burger joint that's open." It's a good idea, but he's not paying it as much attention as it probably deserves. Your eyes are distracting him. The car's not moving now, he doesn't need to watch the road, and you're right there, pressed up against his side and looking up at him with those wide, blue eyes. "You've got the most unlikely eye-color, Cas."

He doesn't wait for you to reply. He leans in and pulls you in closer so he can press his lips to yours. His mouth is closed for now, the kiss careful, chaste. Exploring. Your lips are dry, the stubble around them strange, unfamiliar. He shifts a little closer, moves his hand that is not around your shoulders to rest on top of the one you've got on his thigh. Keep that there, Cas. That feels good.