A while back I read a story that made me laugh so hard I was literally wiping water that had spewed from my nose for a solid ten minutes. You can find it here, I wanted to do something similar, with a different twist.. and I hope you're not disappointed.
Castiel stared at the large ball of dough on the counter, doing everything he could to make it knead itself by means of sheer will. Unfortunately, his grace was no longer in tact and his mind didn't cause things to happen just because he wished for it anymore. That wasn't even the most disappointing part of being human, there were so many more facets of emotions and desire than he even realized before. His body had become a mess of nerves and anxiety for multiple reasons, but mostly because any time he was within shouting distance of Dean he'd become aroused.
Castiel tried and mostly failed to find ways for him to spend time with Dean and not become so overwhelmed, but he still hadn't been able to. Eventually he decided that even if Dean didn't feel the same way, even if he was rejected..he had to say something, do something. So Castiel did the one thing he thought might give him an edge, or he tried. He was learning to make pie, knowing exactly how his charge felt about the pastry. It was enough to at least put Dean in a good mood before he bestowed the knowledge of his undying love and gratitude onto him.
Unfortunately, it wasn't working.. he'd found a recipe, a special one, but there were very few instructions. Mostly it was just a list of food items and the process, but there were steps he didn't understand, or at least couldn't perform. It had been three days and he'd wasted countless ingredients to get to the same step each time, in a last stitch effort he'd ask Sam to borrow his laptop and do research the next day. He couldn't hold hold his feelings in much longer, Dean was observant and had already noticed his skittish behavior.
Normally Dean would have worn his big clunky boots, he'd have stomped around a few times just so everyone knew it was time to get up. However, he'd been unable to sleep and ducked out of his room before the sun came out. Dean found himself too tired to get fully dressed before he'd had at least one cup of coffee. Instead he'd wrapped one of the freshly laundered, (thank you very much Sammy) robes from the bunker around his waist and headed toward the kitchen, He heard someone moving around and almost went for his gun, until the clear deep voice resonated loudly enough for him to realize it was Cas.
"I'm pretty sure kneading you was always the part of this I found most confusing. There's no handbook or instructions written for me on the page, how am I supposed to know what to do with you. Is this a skill humans are just born with that has eluded me because of my previous existence as an Angel? It seems like every time I try, things just become even more disastrous." He huffed, leaving Dean hidden behind the wall with his jaw dropped open wide.
He rushed off toward his room unwilling to process the new information, half dressed and even less alert. He paced against the concrete floor of his private sanctuary as he thought about what Castiel had said. Dean knew it was rude to listen in on private conversations, certainly more so when it was his best friend, ex-angel, talking to himself.
He replayed the words over and over in his mind looking for any explanation that wouldn't allow him the small flame of hope that had ignited in his heart. Anything that pointed him toward the idea that it could be anyone else Cas was talking about, but he found nothing. Cas hadn't met anyone new in the few short months he'd been human, and as much as Dean was certain that Castiel cared about his brother..he'd given no sign whatsoever that he'd been at all interested in Sam.
So that left him, Dean Winchester. Castiel had been acting a little weird around him lately, nothing too obvious but Dean had noticed that Cas didn't stand as close as he once had. Also, he'd began averting his eyes quicker than he'd used to when they had their albeit, somewhat freaky staring matches. So if anything, it had to be him he was sure of it, well mostly sure of it.
Dean crawled back into bed, thinking it was probably best to sleep on it before he made any rash decisions. If he went to sleep with a huge, cheesy smile on his face, well no one would be the wiser. In the morning, he'd figure out some way to let Cas know that he needed him too.
