Destiel One-shots

Pie

Castiel had locked himself in the kitchen at eight in the morning.

He emerged sixteen hours later, slightly burned, his white shirt blackened with smoke and burned bits, and various ingredients stuck in his hair. But he had a huge smile plastered on his face, and a pie in his hands.

"Dean." Cas's calm voice announced. The hunter glanced up, his eyes widening at Cas's appearance. "I made you a pie."

"I see that." Dean replied, staring at the angel. "How many times did it take you?"

"Two hundred fifty six times." He said calmly. "Enjoy the pie." Dean raised an eyebrow.

"You completely lost your mind while trying to make pie, didn't you?" Cas's eyes were wide, and he looked psychotic as he leaned really close to dean's face, unblinking, and repeated his words.

"I. Made you. A. Pie."

"...What flavor is it?" Dean asked nervously.

"Pie. Flavor." 

Without another word, Cas stepped back, still looking crazed, and walked away. Dean watched him go, then glanced down at the pie, shrugged, and started eating it.