Adjusting to human life was difficult for Castiel.

He did not realise how… challenging it was for humans, just to go through life. It did not seem like the Winchesters were irritated by the frequency they needed to urinate, but Castiel had found himself growing increasingly frustrated with how much time he spent traversing to the bathroom. How did humans find the time to do anything else? He felt that all he did was sleep, eat, and use the toilet.

He did find that eating was enjoyable, at least. He did not enjoy hunger, but he found that tasting new foods made him happy.

The thing that threw him off kilter the most, however, was the new instincts that followed after he lost his grace.

Angels did not have designations. When he first took control of his vessel, the instincts didn’t follow. Now, however, with his newfound need to maintain his body, he found that the baser instincts had manifested.

Castiel was an alpha, but unlike humans, he didn’t have time to slowly grow into his instincts. They hit him suddenly, and all at once. It was overwhelming, to say the least, almost maddening in its intensity.

He had found himself acting entirely unlike himself — he was territorial, almost aggressive at times. More often than not, he was snappy and irritable and itching for a fight. Sam, the other alpha in their little group, set him on edge. He could not understand why, but he often had the strong urge to challenge him, and he didn’t even know what for. Dean did not draw these reactions from him… was it because he was not an alpha? Castiel was uncertain. He did not like being so out of his element.

Castiel had found that his only sense of calm came when he was close to you. He had always found himself drawn to your presence, even when he was an angel, but now he found that he almost craved your closeness. His instincts seemed to scream at him less when he was surrounded by your scent.

He wasn’t entirely sure when the dynamic between the two of you shifted — you were still friends, yes, but now he had taken to scenting you whenever everything else had gotten to be too much. It was not necessarily an intimate arrangement, even if Castiel sometimes found himself wishing it was (he would blame his new alpha instincts for that). He was aware it was often something done between close friends and family. He enjoyed it greatly. It made him feel safe. At ease.

Not for the first time, Castiel finds himself seeking you out. His head tilts to the side as he watches you sitting at the table, doing research. The bunker is quiet — he is unsure of where Sam and Dean have gone, but he is pleased that the brothers are not present. He didn’t think that he could handle their teasing right now, not when all he wanted to do was bury his nose against your neck and inhale.

Castiel approaches you quietly, not wishing to disturb you. His hands find the table as he leans over, palms flat against the wood. He can already smell you like this, and he feels the tension draining from his frame.

“Hello.” He says gruffly, his eyes fluttering as he takes a deep breath in. He can’t help himself as he trails his nose over the skin of your neck, settling at the spot your scent is the strongest. He lets out a pleased hum as he inhales, fingers flexing against the wood.

He feels as though he should say something more, so he speaks again after a few moments of silence pass. “I hope I am not disturbing you. I know you said you did not mind, but I…” He swallows, rubbing his nose against your skin in an attempt to calm his nerves. “Am I bothering you?”