Hello everyone! This is my first fic, so please be nice? It's centered around the relationship between Sam and Cas. Takes place after Holy Terror. I would love to know what you guys think when you finish reading. Enjoy!

Dean Winchester and Robert Singer seemed to have been able to grasp the concept without too much trouble; Castiel, Angel of The Lord, was not human. He was, quite simply, a multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent. That is, the angel was not limited to the vessel he occupied. He did not need a loud and confining human vehicle to go places. He did not need to bathe his vessel, to trim it's toenails, or expel waste from it's various orifices. His vessel was simply a means by which he interacted with the world of his human charge, and those close to him, without rendering the surrounding seven miles of the Earth barren of all life. Biological human necessities, such as securing sustenance to fuel his vessel, were taken care of with an effortless wave of his grace. Although the men would never be able to fully comprehend precisely everything he had said, they were more or less able to take from his words what he intended them to:

No, he did not want "a burger."

It only took explaining one time for the two hunters to stop offering the angel food- albeit with an arched brow from Dean, along with the assertion that the angel was "seriously missing out."

Sam Winchester, however, never seemed to accept this. No matter how many times Castiel refused his offer, the younger Winchester would inevitably look to both him and his brother when offering to pick up food. He had confronted the boy about it one day while they were working on a case, after Dean had stepped out for some more coffee. The explanation he received came in the form of a shrug and a "Just in case. You never know, right?"

It was, in fact, specifically not right, but Castiel had let it drop, resigning himself to giving a quick "no, thank you," every once in a while rather than argue with the younger Winchester's logic (or lack thereof). Even during their hunt for Famine, when he found himself under the overwhelming compulsion to consume hamburger after hamburger, his vessel's only want was for the taste, not the energy that could be derived from them.

So when Sam, some years later, threw his customary "you guys want anything?" while heading towards the door of the Winchesters' motel room, and Castiel, feeling the fatigue of their recently finished hunt, and the slow but definitely there burning out of his grace, answered "yes, please," a sudden stillness came over the room, rendering even the older Winchester silent. For a moment, the radio playing "all your favorite classic rock" seemed deafening. Dean's jaw worked subtly, and Sam's adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. The very air grew heavier. Sam, to his credit, was the first to recover.

"How 'bout burgers?"

Castiel felt his lips turn up slightly, along with a small wave of relief. "Burgers would be nice."