Cas was tired of feeling useless. The Winchesters could say that he was useful until they were blue in the face but Castiel didn't believe them. Sure he would help out by looking into the lore for them while they were on their latest hunt. Follow up on some leads. Even find something that was their kind of thing in the papers. He even helped Mary get acclimated with the twenty-first century when it was just the two of them, or acted as Dean's sounding board when he felt frustrated at the lack of progress he and his mother's relationship was taking.

Truth be told, Castiel found being a human exhausting. His wings were gone long before he killed Billie, the Reaper, to stop the deal the brothers had made. Now his grace was completely drained; a small part of the cosmic consequences they were warned about. Castiel felt much like Dean did in this subject; he wondered when the other shoe would drop. Not that Castiel fully understood what the Righteous Man meant when uttering that expression; nor did he understand what shoes had to do with anything, but he feared for what was to come.

Today, however, the angel was determined to ignore all that had been bothering him. To let go of the guilt of his past misgivings and focus on his best friend. He loved Dean, in more ways that he was sure an angel like him – or like he had been – should feel. He was also certain that the love he felt was not reciprocated by the eldest hunter. This was something that Castiel was okay with, especially now that Dean has seemingly stepped away from the numerous one night stands of his younger years. No, today was about Dean.

Castiel had noticed that since the return of the Winchester brothers to the bunker after their six weeks in federal prison, that Dean had started to act differently. Almost as if he was torn between a state of depression and over protectiveness; more so towards Castiel, which in turn would both get on the angel's nerves or make his heart feel as if it would burst.

He had talked briefly to Mary regarding the emotional state of her first born, and had learned that Mary would often get him comfort foods from the local Mexican restaurant to encourage her 'little bean' to talk to her. She had laughed at a memory, saying that she was honestly surprised that Dean wasn't chubbier; especially when she was pregnant with Sam. Apparently the little version of Dean was excited to have a brother, but also apprehensive as to if he could be worthy of the role of big brother.

Castiel looked down at the recipe he had printed from Sam's computer and sighed. Some where he had a baser knowledge of cooking, thanks to the memories Jimmy Novak – his vessel – had stored, as that was a hobby for the devout man. This particular recipe was supposed to be simple, using a handful of ingredients. These tacos were intimidating him. He blamed his newly human self.

Dean entered the bunker through the garage, whistling his favorite song as he wiped his hands on the red automotive rag. Now that Castiel had changed vehicles permanently, Dean had two pet projects to keep his mind off of all the crap his brother and himself find themselves on a weekly bases. Bonus was that it was a Chevy truck and all things Chevy pretty much ran through his veins.

Dean stopped mid step and whistled when his olfactory system was assaulted with the scent of onions, garlic and something else he couldn't rightly place. He followed the smell to the kitchen, guessing what it is he's smelling. Cas must have ordered take-out since there wasn't any smoke billowing out of the area. Dean huffed a little laugh at the memory of Castiel trying to make toast a few months back.

"Cas?" Dean asked once the truth is revealed. The shock was clear in his voice as he took in the scene in front of him. Castiel, the ex-Angel of the freaking Lord, standing at the island cutting up a pile of green something or other, while singing under his breath as he concentrated on his task. When Castiel didn't respond to Dean, he leaned against the table and watched in amused silence.

It had been three months since Castiel fully lost his grace. Three months of watching his best friend become more and more agitated as he slowly became more human. Today he looked like a true Winchester; trading his dark monkey suit for the dark denim jeans, blue t-shirt and flannel button up. Castiel walked around barefoot in the bunker or occasionally wearing socks or the bumble bee slippers Sam had gotten him as a joke for the past Christmas.

There were still elements that showed the angel Dean remembers. The hair that seemed to have a mind of its own. The intense blue eyed stare. Even his trench coat still made an appearance when he went outside. Seeing Castiel like this, singing in a voice that was a key higher than his spoken bass, was something he could get used to.

"I'll never be your beast of burden
I've walked for miles my feet are hurting
All I want is for you to make love to me"

Dean couldn't help but smirk. Castiel had taken to singing when he was concentrating and based on song choice, or at least musicians. Because of this Dean often knew what the former angel was thinking. For example: when searching through lore for a hunt, Castiel often hummed Fleetwood Mac or, oddly enough Five Finger Death Punch - that only came out when he was researching with Sammy though. When Cas worked in the garage; learning how to maintain his truck, Dean could often hear him singing Led Zeppelin. When Castiel just concentrated for the sake of concentrating - that's when Dean got to find it more about him. Needless to say, Dean was a strange mix of proud, surprised and intrigued with the current music choice.

"Never pictured you to be a Stones fan, Cas." Dean finally said, getting the singer's attention.

"I can appreciate the lyrics to this song." Dean was getting ready to ask which part but was interrupted by a timer. "Ah!" Cas cried with a smile and held out a wooden spoon to Dean. "Can you pull the pot off the heat and fluff the rice?"

Dean grabbed the spoon and moved to do as he was asked. When he lifted the lid off the pot, he was welcomed by the rising steam and the spicy smell of jalapenos and cilantro. Dean made a show of inhaling the scent deeply before moaning happily. It had been a long time since he had fresh seasoned rice like this.

"Damn, Cas. I had no idea you could cook."

Castiel glanced up at the hunter and shrugged. "I didn't think I could either. Sam had suggested watching a few videos online and Mary suggested food items that I googled to get recipes."

Dean grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and leaned his hip next to Castiel's workspace. "Well you're doing something right because it smells fucking fantastic. What's the occasion?"

Again Castiel shrugged and tossed a few handfuls of the green things he had just prepared into a pan with the waiting onions. "I wanted to do it. Besides you always take care of it. Seems fair that someone else stepped up to the plate, as you say."

Dean hid the smile behind the mouth of his water bottle as he took a drink and really looked at what was in front of him. His best friend; who had literally gone to hell and back with him, normally looked so out of place with his surroundings - unless it was in the heat of battle. Now though, as he stood in the kitchen, cooking a meal for the ones he considered family, he never looked so content.

"So what's for dinner?" Dean asked, his eyes transfixed on the muscles of Castiel's arm as he tilted the pan over the fire, moving it in short jerking motions to flip and saute the contents.

"Spanish rice, pinto beans and tacos."

"Is this flirtation, Cas?" Dean joked and was relieved to hear Cas laugh with him.

"No."

"Wow, Cas. That actually sounds…" he temporarily lost his train of thought when Castiel's sapphire eyes met his own. Something pulled at Dean - a longing he had always ignored before. Dean's eyes flicked down to Castiel's mouth, where his tongue darted across the slightly chapped bottom lip. The desire to suck that bottom lip between his own lips, getting the taste of Castiel on his own tongue began to build within Dean.

"Dean?" Castiel's voice grabbed his attention.

"Yeah?"

Cas chuckled and tossed the ground meat into the pan. "You were saying something about how this all sounds."

"Right. Amazing. It sounds amazing, Cas. Do you need any help?"

Castiel shook his head. "No. I'm taking care of you, Dean. Just relax."

"I would relax more if you let me help."

Castiel sighed and glanced at Dean. He could see the sincerity in his jade colored eyes. "Fine, want to grate the cheese or fry the tortillas?"

"Cheese. On it." He pushed off the counter and grabbed the block of cheddar from the island before moving it, the grater, and a bowl to the space next to Cas. He watched as Cas bit back a smile, stirring the contents in his pan to get an even cook.

They work together in companionable silence. It was no different from when they hunt together; while yes they are usually in more danger then, they still move as if this was a familiar dance to them. It didn't escape Dean's attention how domestic this all felt. Him and Cas working together to get their dinner together. Every once in awhile, Cas would hold a spoon full of the meat mixture for Dean to try, wanting to know if it was missing something or too spicy. With each bite Dean would moan; more and more surprised at how quickly Castiel picked up the art of cooking. Dean even offers a bit of cheese to the other man once the block was too small to grate. He tried to ignore the tingles in his fingertips when Castiel's lips brush against them, taking the offered dairy product into his mouth.

Finally, dinner was ready to be served. Dean set the table debating if it would be a good idea to set their plates next to each other when it's just the two of them. Of course he chickened out and sets them opposite.

The spread looked and smelled delicious. Dean's mouth was literally watering from it. While Castiel filled their plates, Dean grabbed them each a beer.

"You know, I don't think I've had a taco since your brother killed me with one."

Castiel froze and looked at Dean with a deer in headlights look. A look that reminded him of when Dean took him to the brothel when he thought they were going to die.

"Relax, Cas. I know you're not trying to kill me." It was true. If anything, Castiel had died more times than he wanted to remember for Dean. Always happy to bleed for the Winchesters.

They sat down in silence as they enjoyed their meal. Castiel was surprised at how well everything had turned out considering his inability to make toast. Dean seemed to be enjoying the meal as well, eating with gusto and giving Castiel wide smiles between bites.

Eventually they had slowed down to picking at their food and just taking sips of their beer. Dean decided this was a good time to figure out why his best friend had gone through all the trouble.

"As I said before, Dean. It's not fair that you have to do all the cooking around here."

Dean laughed and leaned back in his chair. "I don't mind, Cas. I've been doing it since I was eight. I do appreciate the effort though."

Cas gave him a small smile and inclined his head as to say 'you're welcome.'

"So," Dean cleared his throat. "You adjusting to being a human better this time?"

"If this is the part where you tell me I can't stay."

"What!? No! Shit, Cas. We're family. I'm not going to kick you out. That wasn't my doing remember?"

"Of course, Dean. I apologize."

Dean studied him for a moment. It was clear that something was troubling Cas but he wasn't saying what it was.

"Talk to me," Dean said.

Castiel sighed and slumped back in his chair. "I'm worried about you, Dean."

"What's to worry about?"

"Ever since the thing with Billie, I've noticed you seem more depressed than usual."

"Cosmic consequences, Cas. Who's to say that the grace thing was the only consequence?"

"And I will deal with them as they come."

"But they shouldn't have been yours to have. I made the blood deal with her. Not you, Cas. It was on me and Sammy."

Cas sat his bottle down hard and glared at Dean. "Don't you get it, Dean? It was a stupid deal you never should have made in the first place! I meant what I said. You mean to much to me to just throw yourself into the pyre as per usual. You may think that you don't make a difference. And in the grand scheme of things, all the other humans on this planet may never truly know who Dean and Sam Winchester are and how much the two wayward sons did for them, but I know, Dean."

"And you think it's easy for me to watch you, once again play the martyr? You don't think it hurts me wondering if when I wake up you'll be gone or worse!" Dean's voice raised with his emotions.

"I'm not a martyr, Dean." Castiel shook his head. "I'm nothing," he said softly, his eyes looking down at his plate.

"Cas," Dean said his name with such sorrow, Castiel felt guilty for making him feel that way.

"I'm nothing, Dean." he said a bit stronger. "Before I fell, I know who, and what I was. Castiel, Angel of the Lord. Sent to Hell to save the Righteous Man," he waved his hand at Dean as his eyes began to burn from unshed tears. "But then it became, Castiel fallen angel, turned horrible hunter. Now I'm just Castiel."

"Cas…"

Castiel shook his head. "Don't you get it, Dean? You say I'm family, but I'm really not. Over the years I have been your-" he licked his lips and ran his hand through his hair, tugging at the tips like he's seen Dean do countless times. "To quote Mick Jagger; 'I don't want to be your beast of burden."

"What are you saying, Cas?" Dean asked, his heart clenching, worried that Castiel was trying to leave.

"I'm sorry, Dean." He rose from his seat and lifted his plate. "This was not my intention at all. I'm sorry to have ruined your night."

Dean watched him, slacked jawed, unable to tell him to stop. He heard the plate being scraped clean before being dumped into the sink. He could see Cas move out the kitchen from the corner of his eye, but he felt numb. A part of him wondered if this was what it felt like to break up with someone, the feeling of a thousand pound weight crushing in you chest.

How could Castiel be so stupid? Did he really think so little of Sam? Dean? Their bond that Castiel had once claimed to be so profound that others in heaven felt threatened by it?

Deciding that this conversation was far from over and there were some things that were going to get resolved that night, Dean stormed out of the kitchen and into the hallway that led to the sleeping quarters.

He found himself in front of Castiel's closed door. He could turn around to the door behind him. Ignore it all and let his memory foam mattress lure him to sleep. Dean knew there won't be any sleep though; not with the ache in his chest threatening to rip him in half.

"Cas," Dean called through the door as he grabbed the handle. "I'm coming in," he warned.

Castiel didn't answer. He didn't even move when he heard the door close behind Dean. He screwed up, again. Let Dean down, again.

"You listen hear, you son of a bitch," Dean started. "This here, is a two way street. You are more than some fucking pack mule to us. Yes I know I've called you a baby in a trench coat when you didn't have your mojo and I know I've said some other really shitty things. But Cas, you are my best friend. I wasn't lying when I said I would rather have you, cursed or not. And I sure as hell meant what I said when I told you I needed you."

Dean moved towards the bed, where Castiel was laying with his back to him. Dean sat on the edge of the bed and puts his head in his hands. "You mean too much to me, Cas. I don't know what has changed or when exactly it changed but it has. This cosmic bullshit scares me…" his breathing hitched and he could feel the bed shift behind him. A light touch fell to his left shoulder; the same shoulder that once wore the mark Castiel had left on him.

"Dean?"

Dean turned his head to look at Cas. "I can't lose you, Cas. I'm so worried that this is going to bite us in the ass and the thought of you being gone...The pain is crippling at times."

Castiel sat up to look at Dean better as Dean shifted on the bed, one leg folded on it as the other hung off. Castiel cupped the side of Dean's face and watched as the man's eyes flutter closed at the contact. Dean's body moved towards Castiel as if he had his own gravity. Their foreheads pressed together and Dean let out shaky breath.

"I'm so scared, Cas. More than the thought of losing mom again. More than the thought of losing Sammy. And that - the fact that whatever it is that has me feeling like that for you, terrifies me."

Castiel traced Dean's bottom lip with his thumb. Gentle strokes against the plump flesh as the humid breath runs over the tip. "When Metatron gave me all the knowledge, of the human's written word and movies, I never understood why people would compare love to falling."

Dean opened his eyes to look at Cas. He eyes shine bright as they fill with tears.

"But to have been the one to literally fall from grace, I understand now. It's terrifying, it's uplifting, it's euphoric, confusing and all consuming."

"It's a pain in the ass," Dean added.

Castiel huffed a small laugh in agreement. "But in the end, just like an angel falling Dean, when it's for the right person, or the right cause, it's the only thing worth sacrificing yourself or living for."

"I still think you were stupid to go against Billie."

"And I still think you made a stupid deal."

"So we're both dumbasses then."

One side of Castiel's lips quirked up into a smile. "I prefer the term idiots. Less dumb. Less ass."

Dean let out a shaky laugh, trying to hold back all the feelings that want to come out like word vomit. He mimicked Cas, slowly cupping his face, but slowly stroking his cheek.

"I know you feel it," Cas said softly. "You don't have to say it." Dean lifted an eyebrow, letting his eyes focus on the penetrating stare of Castiel's blue orbs. "I love you," Cas said softly.

Those three words were what broke the dam for Dean while simultaneously rescuing him. When asked years later who kissed whom first, neither men could tell you. They would just smirk at each other, shrug and move on. Their love story was one that God himself forged the day he sent the angel; destined to love humanity the way his creator had, into the deepest pits of Hell to save the one man who needed him the most.