"Hm?" he asks, but then melts into the kiss instead, totally distracted by whatever Crowley just said to him. It's a soft, glittering thing above his head, but barely there, and almost looks like it could just be errant curls catching the light just so.

As they get to the front of the line, the hostess, thankfully saying nothing, takes them in to get seated and pours them both flights as a sommelier starts explaining.