One thing that never failed to amuse Dean Winchester was how Castiel, Angel of the Lord, took everything to an absolutely literal sense.
So when Dean told Cas he was so hungry he could eat a horse, he really shouldn't have been surprised when Cas poofed out and showed up a second later with a large equine being by his side.
While Dean roared with laughter, Sam painstakingly explained 'figures of speech' for the thousandth time, Cas looking just a bit offended that his gift was not appreciated.
One very confused horse and one deeply annoyed angel departed soon after.
The first time Dean decides he's going to make homemade bread, he doesn't tell Sam, just sneaks off to the Batcave's kitchen with the recipe in hand.
When Sam finds him three hours later, Dean's literally glaring at the rock hard baked good like it's personally offended him.
Sam makes the mistake of laughing at his flour-coated brother.
Thirty minutes later, the kitchen is coated in flour, as are Sam and Dean, and they're sitting on the floor, drinking beers, trails running through the flour on their faces from where they laughed so hard tears flowed.
"Bitch."
Sam smiles.
"Jerk."
"This is May right? In Florida?"
"Yes, Dean, this is May…in Florida."
Dean was quiet for a moment, watching the sky, Sam doing the same thing next to him. It was the end of the day, it had been a particularly difficult hunt, involving witches, who Dean hated in every way, shape, and form, and all he wanted to do was drop into bed and sleep until the literal cows came home.
But it was snowing. In May. In Florida.
As one fat, lazy flake swirled out of the air and landed on Dean's nose, he sighed.
"I hate witches."