A/N:

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

Dean hauled open the bunker door and picked up the third bag of groceries, which he'd laid by the door in order to have a free hand. There was a spring in his step as he made his way down the stairs—that is, until he'd crossed halfway to the kitchen, and was able to smell things burning. He rushed in and dumped his bags in the entryway. It took him less than five seconds to survey the disaster that'd formed in the kitchen before he was pushing past Cas to get in front of the stove. There was a pot of gravy boiling itself into char that he picked up and whisked on instinct, even while scoffing, "Dammit, Cas. I leave for twenty minutes…"

Cas glanced down, though Dean couldn't see the shame on his face. "I'm sorry, Dean. You have many things cooking at once. Human technology is still very confusing."

"Look." He put the pot down and stepped to the side, giving Cas a view of the stovetop. "The gravy doesn't need much more heat. So you turn the heat down." Cas watched the dial as it was turned to low temperatures, and in a flash, Dean had adjusted three other gas rings. The angel stood, almost with a slack jaw, as Dean bounced around to each area of the kitchen, critiquing each of Cas' mistakes with disapproving looks. "The turkey's going to be overcooked by the time everything else's done if you keep the oven this hot."

"Where's the boiling water for the stuffing I called you about?"

"Thank God you didn't put these cookies in, Cas. They're way too big. See? Even the other ones are kind of overlapping. Shit, these ones are ready."

"Why are the potatoes—? Okay, y'know what, nevermind."

The Winchester slapped a cutting board on the counter and got to work hauling an assortment of vegetables out of the bags. He looked up with a knife in hand to see Cas, who stood off to the side, watching everything grimly. Things were boiling and sizzling, large vents were running, and he could swear music was playing from somewhere in the bunker as Dean came to a stop. They shared a glance past the chaos. "I—" For some reason, Dean now seemed at a loss for words. "I'll get these vegetables going, alright? Why don't you touch up those cookies and do—uh, a salad?"

"I'm not sure I know how to do those, either," Cas moped.

Dean wondered when Cas had gone from confused but excited about cooking to completely dejected. He sighed, looking over to the stuff Cas had been working on with a more forgiving gaze. His voice was softer when he said, "Your cookies look good, just make 'em about half the size. And you can't really screw up a salad, you just throw in some leaves, vegetables, and nuts."

Cas still didn't appear very eager to be getting back to cooking until their eyes met again. He chose the cookies, which ended up leaving them with their backs to each other, as the other noises of the kitchen carried on. They each worked silently for a while, until Cas noticed that one of the balls he'd just finished rolling had disappeared. He glanced over to his side, only to find Dean leaning on the counter, close enough that the smell of Old Spice soon overpowered the cookie dough scent. His distraction smiled and popped the cookie dough into his mouth.

With Dean making this kind of effort to entertain him, Cas couldn't refuse a response. "Those have raw eggs in them," he admonished. "They have to be baked first."

"See? You know something about the culinary arts."

Cas snatched another bundle of dough from Dean's fingers and placed it back on the tray, trying to hide a grin in the meantime.

"You know I'm not mad, Cas."

"Just obsessive?" the angel teased, finally meeting his eyes.

"Yeah, well, Sam's picky. Can't have him complaining at Thanksgiving, can we?"

Cas grinned as he took away another unbaked cookie that Dean tried to steal, and popped it into his own mouth instead. Dean pretended to be appalled and dove after it, pulling Cas close and twisting them around so that Cas became cornered against the countertop. The Winchester was pressing his luck, and Cas would let him know it a few minutes later, as the turkey began to burn and Cas refused to let him slip away.