Hello again! Welcome to my second story! This one is a little (or a lot) fluff piece that I thought might be enjoyable after my longer and more adult-themed one from before. I'm still writing that one, do not fret, I just need a little break. So, try to enjoy it!

Plot: Castiel is trying to learn how to be more human, and Dean is trying to teach Castiel why people like pets. Since he doesn't understand, Dean figures it's best to learn through experience, right?

Disclaimer: I have not, do not, and will not ever own Supernatural or any of the characters. Ah, but if I did, the show would go so much differently.

The Hamster Wheel

Castiel sat in the back of the Impala, awkwardly slouched in a position of reluctant surrender. For the time being, at least. Dean had forced Cas into the car with him. Sam was off icing a nest of vamps and Dean wanted someone to come to the store with him. Castiel wished that he didn't love being here so much, even now. If he didn't have these…attachments…he could simply leave and do something much more productive with his time.

Unfortunately, Castiel's bond with Dean was more than just an attachment. It was profound. No matter how hard he tried, he was either with Dean or he was thinking about Dean. Dean Winchester had nestled into his mind and despite Castiel's constant complaints, he would not leave. It was unlike anything Cas had experienced before.

As long as he was going to be on the road with Dean, Castiel thought he might as well act like Dean. He tried hard to be human, to feel all the feelings. The truth was that they didn't actually matter to Cas unless they involved Dean. Despite this, he continued to try, and pretty soon he was almost an acceptable human. He rode in the car instead of "zapping," he drank beer and watched TV with Dean after tiring hunts, and even though it was physically impossible for Castiel to sleep, he would lie on the bed for an hour or so: as Dean fell asleep and as Dean woke up. He wanted Dean to know that he was there to protect him. He did this, all of it, for Dean.

At the moment, Dean was standing outside the bank at what he called the "bread winner." This term confounded Cas because he saw no signs of producing bread, with or without a competition to decide it. In fact, it looked only like a little metal box spitting out money when Dean told it to. What an obedient little contraption! If it was that easy to get money, Cas wondered why Dean complained so much when Sam borrowed some.

Once Dean got back in the car, Cas decided to share some musings with him. "Dean, why are you so sensitive about Sam taking your money when it seems so simple to produce more from that machi—"

"If you want to have a stupid heart-to-heart you gotta sit where I can see you, Cas. That's the rules."

Cas nodded with frustration. Dean interrupted him so much. He just wondered if he knew that it was disrespectful and pondered telling him or not. He decided against it, for saying something that Dean Winchester didn't want to hear was like handing a nuclear bombs to a violent child. And now that he thought harder about that, he decided that he didn't much desire to ask his previous question again.

Once Cas had awkwardly crawled in the back seat, for some reason not thinking to get out and use the doors, Dean began to drive. He drove for about ten or eleven miles before he got to his destination and parked the car. He got out and knocked on the window, signaling that Cas should come out too.

He turned around, planning on walking to the store, but two inquisitive blue eyes belonging to a man in a trench coat stood in his way. Castiel tilted his head to the side, "Dean, why have you taken me to a store dedicated to only animals?" he asked.

"'Cause, Cas, we need to get bug repellant. I told you. The fricken Boomerang chick or whatever," Dean answered, a little impatient. More people might die if they took too long, after all. Although, he had to admit that it was unlikely. They hadn't discovered anyone else this bitch might have hated.

"It's called a Mambabarang. And they aren't just some 'frickin chick,'" Castiel snipped, making his trademark air-quotations, his voice practically dripping in sarcasm. Dean couldn't tell if he was annoyed or proud. He finally chose the latter, and grinned at Cas to prove it.

He turned his back and began to walk down the row of pesticides, looking for the one that seemed the most lethal. "Yeah, whatever. Witches with hoodoo bugs, I got it. Could we just get what we need and gank this bitch before someone else croaks?"

Dean wasn't even looking at the pesticides anymore, though. He was waiting for Castiel's answer, Castiel's voice. When it didn't come for some time, he turned around. Castiel was nowhere to be seen. Dean slapped his hand at nothing in particular and shook his head. Of course he left, he thought. Why would he want to stay? He probably has much better things to do with his angel buddies.

He was in the middle grumbling inwardly to himself when he heard Castiel call to him from a couple aisles down in a very un-Castiel voice; it sounded almost…excited. Bewildered, and pretty curious what could make Castiel this riled up (since for him, just yelling was like a slut with three shots under her belt), Dean jogged toward the sound.

There, he found Castiel with his hand pressed up against the glass of a terrarium, his bright blue eyes searching the cage in wonder.

"What the hell are you doing?" Dean exclaimed, shocked that Cas had actually gotten side-tracked for once in his goddamn life.

He turned around with goofy smile on his face. "Dean! Look at all these furry organisms!"

Cas was clearly delighted by the stupid gerbils and hamsters running around in their little pens. Dean was suddenly very frustrated. Cas had shown no emotion at all in almost all the time they had known each other and all it takes is a couple of fur balls and suddenly he's a crying girl at her prom?

"God, Cas. You're as dorky as Sam, I swear."

Dammit, Cas was cute. Why couldn't Dean get his face to light up like that? What was he thinking; it's not like it mattered. What mattered was that he hunted this stupid Billabong or whatever down. He grabbed the angel's worn old trench coat and pulled him out of the aisle and toward the checkout, Castiel's stupid grin remaining on his face the entire time.

Later, in the car ride back to the motel to regroup with Sam and figure out where the witch actually was, Dean felt his ears start to get warm. He didn't know why it was happening, until he became keenly aware that Castiel was staring at him.

"Cas, what?" demanded Dean, still a little frustrated from the store. He knew that he didn't have any right to be made. Actually, he should be happy Cas had feelings at all. It was a good sign. For Cas, of course. Not Dean. Why would it matter to Dean if Cas had feelings or not?

"I sense you are angry. Did I upset you?" Cas inquired in that voice of his.

Did he do something wrong, Dean asked himself. Not unless he counted taunting Dean with that slow, careful voice that had a slight undertone of sexy. Not unless he counted always looking at him with piercingly blue eyes that made Dean want to get lost in them. Not unless he counted wearing that trench coat anywhere and everywhere he went, making Dean want to pull him into a tight hug, and not the platonic kind. Not unless he counted the way Cas walked with that attitude that let everyone know he owned the room, but he wasn't going to flaunt it. Not unless he counted the way he would always stand too close to him, not understanding the idea of personal space, and Dean would pretend not to like it when he really did. Not unless he counted the times when he smiled and Dean felt an undeniable warmth pass through him, burning his heart and melting the part of his mind that used to think about women only to replace it with Cas. Not unless he counted the stupid mistakes Cas made and the pop culture references he didn't understand that made Dean want to pull him closer and kiss him. Not unless he counted ruining everything that Dean had considered masculine about himself before.

"Nah, just thinking," concluded Dean, hitting the record for the world's biggest understatement in all of history up until that point.

"About what?" asked Cas, scooting a bit closer in his curiosity. Dean wondered if this frickin angel would ever give him a break, and wondered if he wanted him to.

Dean tried desperately to come up with anything that was relevant but not involving a certain deep-seated, semi-unnatural love for a male angel who didn't know how he felt. "...Pets."

"Pets? You mean the beings which humans tame and feed for companionship?" retorted Cas, his voice showing a little surprise.

"Yeah…Those pets," Off to a great start on this conversation, aren't I? "I was just thinking about them 'cause you, uh, seemed so excited by the hamsters in the pet store."

"Hamsters…What curious little animals. I wonder why you keep them around."

"Me too…" said Dean. And he was. Just not about exactly what Castiel had mentioned. He was already knee-deep in the concoction of a plan, and he couldn't wait to bring it into play.