Give Cas a few more killer sessions like this and maybe he'll be able to keep his composure for long enough to walk ten feet to the right.

Dean's grip and tone combined are enough to finally rattle him out of that stupor, and even though Cas has to take a second to collect himself, forehead to Dean's shoulder as he just breathes, eventually he slides off of Dean's lap with an apologetic mumble of, "Of course." His voice is like wet gravel, and he has to clear his throat. "My apologies."