The rain's trying to decide which part Dean likes best. He watches it drip down Cas' brow, over the bridge of his nose. Not touching him should be a crime somewhere. He watches it slide around Cas' jawline and his fingers itch to grab him there. It's his lips though that send Dean over the edge. Dean's fingers close around the dripping fabric of Cas' trench and he decides, finally, it's about damn time he got the chance to taste what the rain's been kissing all damn day.