Derek chokes on a lungful of smoke at Castiel's casual admission, but he doesn't mention it. Noah doesn't have the same tact, however, and Derek shakes his head. "Noah, ghost child, shh. Leave it be."

He rolls onto his side and watches Dean look down at his shirt like he's worried it'll disappear, and he quirks an mischievous eyebrow. Once Dean's head is tipped back to exhale his own smoke, Derek silently reaches out with one claw extended to slice off the top three buttons of Dean's plaid button down.

Before Dean even lowers his chin, Derek is back lounging in the grass with his own joint between his upturned lips. He looks at Noah and Cas and rests a finger next to his joint, and then groans as he takes in another deep pull of smoke.