Castiel is perched on his lap, and Dean’s silently cursing the camera that is currently in the way of him kissing the little smirk off those damned pink lips. Cas has the camera up, lens just a few inches from Dean’s nose, quiet little huffed laugh as Dean shifts his knees and Cas wobbles slightly.
“Stop that, it’s already hard to focus from this close,” Cas fusses, eliciting an eye roll from Dean that he sees perfectly clearly through the viewfinder. He leans back as he tries to frame up his shot, precariously close to the edge of Dean’s knees, and Dean’s hands shoot out to catch firm around Cas’ waist before he overbalances and topples down. He manages to hit the shutter as they both burst into giggles, framing the perfect shot of smile-sparked green eyes above the graceful arch of freckle-spotted cheekbone, crows feet wrinkles pulled in with laughter.