Dean turned his face up into the rain. It fell steadily, a warm summer rain cleansing the dust and grit away from a sticky day. Castiel watched Dean enjoying the rain, the way his lips were curved upwards at the corners. Or how the water drops clung to his eyelashes and skin.

Castiel tucked his wings back down. There was no need to shelter Dean from the storm, not when Castiel could feel the simple pleasure Dean took from it. For now Castiel was content to watch Dean, until he wasn’t. Then he leaned forward, pressing his lips to Dean’s to taste the rain upon them and tang of Dean’s skin.