Dean is only in slightly better shape and that only because this isn't the first time in his life he's walked across a room with a hard on. Practice makes perfect. It doesn't take long for him to get up and cross over to the bed, standing in front of Castiel and reaching behind him to rub his spine where his wings would be. If he had wings.

Which he doesn't.

Dean is still kind of drunk, give him a break.

"Rules really are different with you. Don't know why, but they are."