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Disclaimer: Don't own the Winchester boys – that would be Kripke. Don't own Sasha – that would be Crimson1! And a huge thank you to both of them for allowing me to ride their coattails a wee bit!

A/N: This is very much a stolen moment for a kiss, so the kiss part seems a bit short to me…. I've been buried in studying for final exams, with visions of incubi floating in my head, and that is my excuse for taking so long to post!

Dedication: This chapter hopefully fulfills Nimrodel Lorellin's request for a kiss in the rain and during a hunt. Ally Plz was looking for a breathless kiss.

There be slash ahead….

It was raining. Hard. Water was running down the back of his neck. Dean hated the rain at the best of times, but he really hated being in soaking wet clothes in the woods. In fact, Dean hated the woods.

They had gotten a lead on the black dog from a sighting reported to the police earlier that day. It seemed to be getting bolder, so they knew that they couldn't afford putting off finding it. They had to get it tonight.

Once they'd gotten to the area where it had been sighted, the three hunters split up to search in a grid pattern. It had only been drizzling when they arrived, but the area had been experiencing above average rainfall for the autumn, so the ground was already saturated. That meant that under the canopy of the trees and on higher ground the ground was relatively slippery, but in lower lying and completely exposed areas the mud was almost ankle deep.

They'd been searching for almost three hours. The rain had picked up after the first half hour. Given that it was late fall, Dean was at least moderately grateful for the unseasonably warm temperature. He was still cold and wet but could appreciate – just a little – that it could be worse.

Dean stumbled over a root and cursed. Classic rock started blaring from his pocket and he reached for his cell phone.

"Yeah?"

"You got anything?" Sam's voice sounded soggy to Dean.

"No. Well, maybe a freakin' cold," Dean was having a hard time keeping the whine out of his voice.

"You?"

"No."

"Did you try Sasha?"

"He hasn't got anything either." Sam confirmed.

Suddenly, Dean did hear something.

"Hey." Dean's voice was low. "I think I might have something now."

Dean strained to hear over the rain. Yep. Definitely an animal moving through the brush. And fairly quickly too.

"Got something, Sammy. No visual though, so it could be anything. I'm on it."

"Where are you?" Sam's voice was urgent. They'd need to converge on the damn thing, and they needed to be careful not to shoot each other – the one real down side to having broken up to search.

"I'm heading north – towards Sasha's area. Call him, Sam!" and with that Dean snapped his phone shut and sprinted off after what he sincerely hoped was the damn black dog.

Sprinting was probably not the best way to describe Dean's slogging and slipping through the mud, trying to avoid trees, rocks, and other nameless bits of nature which he was doing his best to baptize with expletives. It wasn't long before his breath was coming in harsh pants. He was fit, but he was carrying a good extra 10 pounds of rain water soaked into his clothing, and he was running through quicksand.

Dean was actually thankful when the pursuit actually brought him into a more heavily wooded, slightly elevated area. The going was a lot easier, but he still had to stop running to get a bead on the sounds of the dog over his own harsh breathing, the slap of his wet clothing against his body, and the sucking noise of his feet in the mud.

Dean wasn't sure if he was gaining on the dog. It seemed to be moving on a course parallel to his own. At least they were now heading downhill, which also made the going a little easier. It also meant Dean was able to pick up speed.

Suddenly, Dean was bursting out of the woods into a clearing. He saw two things very clearly. Sasha had just run full tilt into the clearing and was now standing in the clearing on his phone and peering around himself. For the life of him, Dean couldn't understand why Sasha was staring transfixed at that part of the forest. Sasha was also breathing heavily, and combined with the cell phone to his ear might explain why he didn't appear to hear Dean yelling. Unfortunately, Sasha's back was to the other thing that Dean saw: the black dog hurtling across the clearing, making a beeline for Sasha.

Dean cried out again, but knew that by the time Sasha realized what he was on about and reached for his gun, it would be too late. So Dean did what Dean always did and threw himself into the mix. Literally.

Dean let the momentum of his run down the slope fuel his sprint across the clearing. Dean left the ground at approximately the same time as the dog. Dean's eyes never left his target and as he flew through the air, he emptied the clip of his gun into the dog's chest. Just as he barrelled into/landed on Sasha.

They both landed hard and fast in the mud. Dean's momentum insured that they skidded, slid, and rolled for a goodly distance. They ended up with Dean sprawled half on top of the incubus. Both of them were breathing hard. Both of them were completely and utterly covered in mud.

"What the hell were you doing, Dean?" Sasha panted.

"Saving you from the baddie," Dean rolled his eyes. "It's kinda what I do."

They both turned to look at the baddie at the mention of it. The dog's carcass was lying a mere six feet from them, almost exactly where Sasha had been standing. It was immediately obvious that while it was black and a dog it wasn't a black dog.

"Huh," Dean huffed, still trying to catch his breath. "Looks like a black lab."

"Yeah. But either it just finished brushing its teeth or it's rabid." Sasha added.

They both stared in horror at the foam still seeping from the dog's gaping mouth and flecking its sides. The rain which was still falling was doing a fair job of washing it clean.

"Well. Looks like you might owe me a thank you after all," Dean smirked.

"Hmmm, maybe I do," Sasha's voice lowered and his hand came up behind Dean's neck and pulled him down into what was meant to be a deep kiss.

They broke the kiss gasping and sputtering and both started laughing. They were out of breath and couldn't breath properly through their noses because of the mud caking their faces, not to mention the fact that the mud tasted terrible!

Almost in unison, they turned their heads away from each other to spit.

Turning back to the incubus, Dean gently tried to wipe the mud from his face. Sasha reached up to return the gentle caress. The rain sluicing down onto them helped to wash the mud away.

No amount of mud could dull the brilliant blue of Sasha's eyes, even if his crimson hair was a little the worse for wear. Dean smiled down at his…friend, and gently ran his thumb across Sasha's lips.

Sasha kissed Dean's thumb as it passed, using his own thumb to trace the line of Dean's strong jaw. As his hand traced from chin to ear, Sasha's forefinger traced up and around Dean's ear.

Dean closed his eyes as he soaked in the sensation of Sasha's warm hands, the one on his face and the one that had snaked around behind him to gently caress his back. Dean could also feel the heat between their chests which were tightly pressed together. It made heat start to pool and grow in his gut.

Dean needed to feel Sasha's lips against his own and pressed down into the softness of those lips. As he moved his lips gently against Sasha's, Dean let one hand trace down the incubus' body, sliding easily through the mud caking his body. In fact, Dean quickly discovered that the mud facilitated everything sliding easily.

Slipping slightly in the mud, Dean repositioned himself on top of the incubus, sliding his body up the other's torso. Sasha purred low in his throat as body parts slid past one another.

Dean used his new position to deepen the kiss, plunging his tongue to the very depths of Sasha's mouth. The two tongues entwined and explored. Dean couldn't get enough of kissing Sasha, and he had begun to long for more. He wasn't oblivious to the warmth and weight pressing into his thigh. In fact, the heat between the two was making Dean forget completely about the cold rain falling on them. As long as he didn't think too hard, Dean was happy to let desire be his guide.

Unfortunately, Sasha was having a slightly harder time forgetting the rain because it was falling in his face as he lay with Dean on top of him. Between what was still falling from the sky and what was falling off of Dean, it was making it hard for Sasha to breathe without getting a lungful of water.

Gasping a little, Sasha broke the kiss and reluctantly pushed Dean off so they could both roll to their sides. Dean looked a little hurt.

"Sorry, Dude," Sasha smiled, "but I'm drowning here on the bottom!"

"Yeah, you look it," Dean smirked, taking in the hair caked in mud and the still dirty face. "In fact, you'd give a Rastafarian a run for his money right about now."

"Yeah? Well you look like a refugee from one of those lost South American tribes," Sasha shot back. He knew it would take quite a while in the shower to get his own longer locks free of all that mud.

Suddenly, there was smashing through the underbrush and Sam was hurtling out of the woods shouting their names. Unfortunately, his momentum combined with the sloppy footing made it impossible for him to stop when he finally did see Dean and Sasha lying in the mud. In trying to stop, Sam completely lost it and went down feet first, sliding neatly in between the other two hunters, spraying them with fresh mud.

"SAM!" they both shouted in annoyance at once.

"I heard shots! Could either of you use a cell phone and let me know you're all right? And why didn't you answer me when I was shouting?"

"Sorry, Sammy. Guess we didn't hear you," Dean apologized a bit sheepishly.

Sam's hair now looked almost as bad as Sasha's. He didn't have quite enough mud in his hair to make nice dreadlocks, but the rain cascading through his hair was plastering his long hair down his face and into his eyes.

"Did you get it?" Sam panted.

"Cujo's right over there, Sammy," Dean indicated the dead dog with his chin.

"Doesn't look like a black dog." Sam stated the obvious.

"Nope. Just your garden variety rabid lab with a taste for incubus ass," Dean grinned.

"I really like dogs," Sasha offered with a hint of sadness in his voice, "But they don't often like me. I think it must be the incubus thing."

"Aw, c'mon. I bet Irish Setters are all over you," Dean smirked.

All three of them snorted at that, but Sam had to duck to avoid the clod of mud that Sasha threw at Dean.

A/N: A bit of a quickie kiss but hopefully still enjoyable. Just two more kisses left in this series, I think… at the risk of being totally pitiful, do take pity on the hard-studying student – I'm in desperate need of a few pets or at least the odd kind word….