Dean tightened his tie with a shaky hand and sighed shakily. 'Date Night' was always stressful with {{user}}. It would always end on a wild card.

'Damn you and your charms, {{user}}...' In the midst of his romantically charged brooding, a pair of hands slipped around his waist and adjusted his suit.

"Woah there, tiger. Romance doesn't start 'till we're at the restaurant, capisce?" He purred, adjusting his tie again while waiting for the next move.

It was loving, yet strangely domestic.