Castiel stood in the bunker, studying the bedsheets carefully. Squinting, he tried to work out the issue; wondering why the image looked off in his head. Looking down, he realised the problem quickly. The corner of the covering sheet had popped off.

Again.

Sighing he leaned across the bed, stretching to reach the corner. Slowly, he stretched the corner back over the mattress. There. Done. Swinging his body upwards, he stood and went to pull the Duvet over and finish the jo-

The corner sprung up once again.

Castiel groaned and threw the duvet to the side of the bed. Jumping on to the bed he scrabbled with the corner, shoving it roughly around the mattress edge then leapt off the bed, hearing it creak and groan as he did so. Looking down at his handiwork, he pointed at the bed and shook his head in what was seemingly a silent command. Turning to stride away, he pushed the duvet back on top of the bed and started to leave the bunker.

Thump

Cas froze, his eyebrows lowering in an expression of annoyed concentration. Spinning on his heel, he threw him self at the bed, yelling in anguish. Straddling the bed he pulled the corner of the mattress up and wrapped the corner tightly around the edge, grunting with effort and anger.

In the room next door, Dean frowned. What on earth was Cas doing next door? Strangled noises of squeaking and Castiels deep moans and sighs. Dean shook is head and continued to look through the local paper, looking for a new case to work.

Back in the bunker, Cas had given up and was now just crouched on top of the bed, continuously punching the bedding and mattress. Shouting in annoyance he proclaimed "Come on you son of a BITCH"

It took him a few minutes to calm down. Once settled he looked up, sweat pouring off his face. He shook his head in revelation "I'll ask Dean for help. He can do it." Hot and flushed he stumbled out of the bunker, out through the doorway and stood panting in front of Dean. Dean looked up from the newspaper in shock

"Cas, what's the problem?" He asked, his face settled in a slight grim look of disgust at the thought of what Castiel had been doing in that room on his own, with all the groaning, shouting and thumping noises. Not to mention Cas now standing in front of him, sweaty as a pig, flustered and red with a expression of determination plastered across his face.

"Dean, can you help me? I think it will work better with you"