Dean was driving the impala, his bloodied knuckles thrumming against the steering wheel in excess energy. There had been a bruise on the left edge of his jaw, but that cleared up not long after getting into the car and driving away from the scene of the wendigo's death.

Sam was riding shotgun, glaring out the window with his teeth clenched. In the back, Cas's gaze went from the road ahead of them to the ugly red scar that marked an otherwise beautiful body.

The case was simple enough, as far as their usual cases went. A wendigo had killed five campers in the last two months, leaving obvious tracks to follow, and nothing or no one obstructing them. The problem was that once they had cornered the wendigo the Mark had taken ahold of the dirty-blonde hunter. It was terrifying to watch the once Righteous Man he had risen from Hell lose himself to bloodlust. Sam and him hadn't been given much of a chance to intervene as Dean slashed at the fighting wendigo, blind and deaf to the world except for the blood and guts he had spilling out of the body beneath him.

And still, despite the blood that had been spilled, the Mark was still not satisfied.

Dean glared with darkened eyes at the long road ahead, and a sound that cried out miserably.

The moment they arrived in the bunker's garbage, Sam was out of the car and on his way to get the keys to another vehicle. "I'll be back late," he spoke to both of them, though only Cas was truly hearing him. "Don't wait up."

Cas was quick to get out from the same side as Dean so he could put a calming hand on the hunter's shoulder blades and whisper huskily into his ears, "Wait for me in your room."

The rant or snark that would have been on Dean's tongue never left. Instead, he stepped out of Cas's touch and waved his brother off with a gruff. "Be safe." Then he was walking to the door that led into the bunker. The door slammed shut behind him.

"Good luck with that," Sam sympathized.

"I'll be fine. And so will Dean."

Sam's smile was thin and not altogether reassured, but he thanked his friend anyway and got into a dark blue car that Dean had recently got up and running.

With the younger Winchester gone - both to get a break from the Mark and to give Cas privacy to handle Dean on his own - the angel went inside. The bunker was quiet, but there was a peace about it that he always felt when returning. The peace of home. A peace that, even with a tormented Dean residing inside, was still palpable.

Cas walked down the staircase and then down the long hallway to Dean's. He didn't bother knocking before opening the door and going in. The moment he did, he found himself pushed into the wall, the door slammed shut, and a muscled body closing in and him.

Calloused hands were pinning Cas's wrists to the wall. Dry, chapped lips were kissing him with bruising force. A hardness was pressed urgently into Cas's thigh so close to his own growing need.

Cas allowed Dean to take his control over him for now, accepting the brutal kiss and the way the hunter's body began to trust against him. But only for a time. Then he was escaping Dean's lips to bite at the hunter's neck and collarbone. He freed his hands from Dean's strong grip to place them on gorgeously sculpted hips. With angelic strength, he stepped forward, forcing Dean backwards until the back of his knees hit the end of his bed and he could push him onto his back.

In response to being manhandled, Dean gave a crooked grin and propped himself up on his elbows. An eyebrow rose as if to question the angel's next move, and to challenge the dominance that had been displayed. Cas stared down at him, thinking quickly about how the night needed to play out.

"Take everything off," he decided, his voice low and full of gravel. Dean's grin widened at the command and he moved to pull his shirt from over his head. Then, the grin turning into a smirk, he began to unbuckle his belt.

At the sight of the smirk, Cas went back into action to put an end to Dean's obvious challenge and show of dominance. He took the place of Dean's hands once the belt was loose and used his own deft fingers to unbuckle his jeans and pulled them off in one quick motion. There was still enough grace in him that he could have zapped their clothes away instantly, but Dean seemed to enjoy this process.

"Well," Dean all but growled when he was left bare upon his memory foam mattress, "do I get the same please of seeing you naked?"

For just a moment Cas thought about staying fully clothed while he took care of Dean, but that was a display of control and power he wasn't sure the hunter was ready for yet. They had been doing this for only a few days. So, with a show of elegance, he began to slowly pull his tie loose and unbutton his shirt.

Too slow for Dean obviously, who pushed himself up into a sitting position to tear the shirt away, giving no mind to the buttons that fell to the floor. Cas would have to reprimand him for that later, but knew he wasn't in the right state of mind to listen to any form of critique.

When Cas was put in the same state as Dean, Dean once again grabbed the angel's wrists to pull him onto the bed as well. He tried to wrestle Cas onto his back, but Cas was still a bit stronger than the Indian strength that the Mark provided, and he ended up successfully straddling Dean's groin. Their hardened lengths pressed together, making both of them moan loudly.

One of the hunter's hands dug into his hip bone while the other hand tried to wrap around Cas's erection. Cas growled in response. He took Dean's and held it above his head, putting force into keeping it there. Leaning forward, Cas warned, "Stay still or there will be consequences." He wasn't quite sure of what those consequences would be, but knew that he had the right tone and right words to satisfy Dean's immediate needs. Dean smirked sexily at the threat and dug his other fingers deeper into Cas's hips, but otherwise didn't make a move. With a smug but mostly compliant hunter, Cas took his free hand to take a hold of both of them and stroke with vigor.

It was rough and fast and what Dean would call "dirty", and the pleasure was immense for both of them. Their moans echoed throughout the room, only to be broken by the sounds of panting for breath (from the human), the slick movement of skin on sweaty skin, and the banging of the headboard against the wall. Cas felt the now familiar tightening in the lower part of his vessel's mid-section. It caused his hand to stutter in its jerking motions, enjoying the way Dean pulsed in his palms and against his own pulsating cock. With a final stroke, sliding their slick coated dicks together, they came in hot spurts.

Cas moved off of Dean so they they lay side by side. Next to him, Dean's chest heaved from the exertion, his muscled body glistening in sweat. Heavy eyelids were closed over dazed, green eyes as slowly breathed out puffs of air. The Mark on his arm began to fade. It was more flesh colored now than an angry, violent red, a reassuring indication that Cas had succeeded in giving him the release that he had needed.

A short time later, Dean propped himself on his left elbow to look at the angel that lay beside him calmly. Blue eyes met green. "You know, the fact that you're always so...you...after this, kind of makes me feel a bit inadequate." It was a relief to hear the light tone back in Dean's voice.

"I was quite satisfied with you, don't worry."

Dean rolled his eyes. "I'm just saying: no hard breathing, no sweat…"

"I don't sweat under any circumstances."

"Right, well," he rolled himself off the bed, "I'm gonna get cleaned up and then get some food." He disappeared from the room before Cas could respond.

That left the angel flat on his back staring at a well-structured, white ceiling, with just enough grace in him to remain calm after a rough bout of sex but not enough grace to cleanse himself without the use of a shower. So he stayed like that, mess and all, until he heard the water turn off, the bathroom door open and footsteps head towards the kitchen. Then he was gathering his clothes and making his way to the bathroom himself.

Taking a shower was one of the few human pleasures Cas still partook in and enjoyed even after regaining grace. That and sex. Though the sex, as rough and fast as it was, was much better than what he remembered it to be with April. The reason for that was obvious: Dean. Anything with Dean was better by far than the best of someone else.