"You make it sound like the only kiss we get for the year," says Dean, dragging his nose along Castiel's jaw. It's strange, but in the thick of the crowd, all the bodies drawing closer together in groups of two, Dean feels a part of something, and totally anonymous. He could be anybody, standing here with someone he loves, not a hunter, or a fuckup, but just a man.

He presses a kiss to the soft skin beneath Castiel's jaw. "We both know you're easier than all that."