It's been a long time since any of the three boys have been back at the bunker. Their last hunt had been exhausting. Sam had fractured his leg, and even Cas, who was normally over-cautious about everything, had acquired a nasty looking gash across his face. Dean had somehow gotten away mostly unscathed.

The aforementioned older hunter now sat beside his brother, holding a roll of bandages in one hand, and an ice pack in the other, while Cas sat in front of a mirror, pulling small shards of glass out of his forehead.

With a frustrated groan, Castiel sets down the tweezers and stands up. "I'm going to take a shower, I can't stand another minute of this." He announces.

"You remember how to work the shower, Cas?" Sam asks, wincing as Dean begins to wrap the bandage around his hand; which had been cut open by the same glass Cas had in his forehead.

Cas nods, wiping his bloody hands on his pants. "Yes, I remember." He begins to make his way to the bathroom, but stops and turns around again. Aiming his question at Dean, he asks, "Would you mind if I borrow some of your clothes?"

Pulling Sam's bandage tight with his teeth, Dean shakes his head. He hopes they'll fit him alright.


Dean hands Sam a stack of books to read. The younger Winchester has his leg propped up on pillows and bandaged up as well as they could manage for the time being. "Just yell if you need anything else."

He walks down the hall to his own room, stretching out his arms behind his back. 'I wonder if Cas is finished with the shower...' He thinks, instead turning towards the bunker's bathroom. Even though he didn't sustain any serious injuries, he still feels gross and sweaty from the hunt.

"Cas?" He calls, trying the door. It's unlocked. He peers inside, feeling the heat from the shower. The mirrors are fogged up, and the whole bathroom smells like shampoo. Clearly, Cas hasn't left yet. Dean goes ahead anyways, sneaking up to the shower, wiping a patch of the window clean and looking in. He gasps, eyes growing wide.

Dean can see Cas' tanned back, muscular and perfect. But that's not what the hunter can't keep his eyes from; huge scars rip down his back, from shoulder blades to his hips, deep and ragged.

Unfortunately for Dean, even over the sound of the running water, Castiel hears that small intake of air. He turns and looks directly at him, Dean, frozen where he stands, unable to move out of embarrassment. He begins to explain himself, but Cas only laughs and says, "You came to take a shower right? Sorry I took so long, it's just that this is all so new to me... A few months ago, I could snap and be clean."

Carefully, Dean opens one eye to look back at Cas. Wait... "Cas, uh, why are you wearing your boxers?" He hadn't noticed it before, but the fallen angel had kept his underwear on while he showered.

"Aren't you supposed to wear them?" Castiel asks, tipping his head to the side.

Dean is afraid if he answers him, he'll take them off, so instead, he quickly changes the subject. "I um, came to ask if you had a towel."

Cas nods. "And I also found clothes that will fit me." They fall into an awkward silence where Dean tries to inconspicuously leave the room.

"Dean," Cas calls, "Why don't you share the shower with me? Maybe you can help me pull this piece of glass from my cheek? I can't seem to get it out."

His brain begins working quickly. Sam is in his room halfway across the bunker, bedridden unless someone helps him up. Cas is wearing boxers. It's not weird if they both have clothing on right? Guys do that all the time at swimming pools and shit... Plus he needs to take a shower anyways; why not conserve water? He sighs in resignation and removes his boots. "Alright. But if anyone asks, this never happened." He strips down to his own boxers and hesitantly opens the shower door. "Where's this piece of glass you're talking about?"

Castiel moves over as far as he can in the cramped shower to allow Dean room as well. "Here," he says, pointing to a spot just above the corner of his mouth. "I tried to get it out with tweezers and couldn't."

Moving in close to get a better look, Dean takes the small instrument from Cas' outstretched hand and carefully grabs the minuscule shard of glass, removing it from the angel's cheek with extreme precision. "I think you're gonna need stitches, Cas." Dean says, running his finger along the gash, gently checking for more bits of glass he might've missed.

Wincing in pain, Cas grabs Dean's wrist. "Sorry... I just... Reflexes..."

"It's alright," Dean says quickly, pulling his arm back from Cas. He clears his throat and takes a step backwards.

Cas shifts so that the water runs over his face and washes the blood off. Dean can see those scars again. He's curious as to how the fallen angel could've possibly gotten such huge injuries. Torture? Or maybe he'd gotten them in a fight. Though they didn't look like they'd been caused by any weapon Dean knew of.

Finally, his curiosity gets the better of him and he asks, "Where did you get those...?"

Dean can't see Cas' face, but he can tell that he's delved into a sensitive topic just by the way his shoulders tense. "They're from my wings." He goes silent for a long while, clearly struggling with his words. "Metatron, when he took my grace, also ripped out my wings. Angelic wings are pure grace; if an angels essence is pulled out, their wings are burned into their vessel. It's a reminder of who we are. A painful and ugly reminder..."

"I think they're... Tragically beautiful." Dean murmurs, his whole face now burning red. He hesitates a moment before reaching out to delicately trace the damaged skin.

In a flurry of water droplets, Cas has Dean pinned up against the shower wall, elbow digging into his chest. "Don't you do this to me Dean..." He whispers through gritted teeth. "I know how absolutely repugnant they look. They're awful; disgusting... Don't tease me like this. I can't..." He trails off.

"I'm not teasing, I meant what I said, Cas!" Dean exclaims, feeling the tension ease out of Cas. His voice lowers and he adds, "I wouldn't lie about something like that."

Cas can't help it; he forces a rough kiss onto Dean. The hunter is surprised at first, but he retaliates with an intensity he himself hadn't experienced in years. Dean forces Cas away from him, and immediately shoves him against the wall again, this time, Dean is the one to initiate a kiss. He opens his eyes and pulls away, watching Castiel carefully. He's breathing hard, eyes still closed in pure bliss, and head leaned back against the wall submissively. Dean licks Cas' cheek, metallic tasting blood gathering on his tongue.

Cas shivers, his grip on Dean's bare back tightening so much that it hurts. "Dean..." Cas moans, burying his face in the hunter's neck.

Pulling Cas back to the water, Dean lets go of him, grabbing the bottle of shampoo off the shelf. He pours it out onto his hand and starts running his fingers through Castiel's raven mop of hair. "Come on Cas, we've at least got to get cleaned up first. You promised me a shower, but all I've accomplished so far is getting my boxers soaking wet."

Cas pouts, but lets Dean wash his hair regardless. It feels quite nice actually... He takes the bottle from Dean and squeezes some into his own hand, reaching up and scrubbing the shampoo into Dean's short hair. He's sure it's not quite as enjoyable for Dean as it is for himself.

Dean grins at Cas. He looks hilarious with his hair sticking up.

Without warning, Cas shakes his head, spraying Dean with water and shampoo.

Laughing at Dean's surprised expression, Cas ducks his head under the water, letting it run over him, washing the remainder of the shampoo from his hair; Dean follows suit.

"You know, I have to go get clean clothes for myself from my room." Dean mutters, taking the soap from the shelf.

Cas looks confused. "Why is that an issue?"

Dean massages the soap over Castiel's shoulders, stopping as he gets to the scars. "I'll have to walk past Sam's room to get to mine." He kneels behind Cas, eyes fixed on where his wings used to attach. His fingers gently trace the edges of the new skin. Slowly, he begins to wash Cas' back, careful not to hurt him. "Which means that Sammy will know we were showering together."

"Oh." Cas says simply. He doesn't sound like he fully understands the implications, but at least seems to somewhat grasp Dean's need for secrecy.

He washes his own face, avoiding the large cut, then starts to mimic how Dean had washed his shoulders, running his hands along Dean's broad shoulders and down his shoulder blades. "Did you bring a towel for yourself?" Cas asks, once again washing off the soapsuds in the warm water.

Dean turns off the shower and runs a hand through his hair. "No." He watches Cas squeezing out his hair, then takes the towel hanging off the counter and dries his hair for him. He wraps the towel around himself and Cas, which, even standing so close to each other, doesn't go all the way around them.

Pulling on Dean's Zeppelin shirt, Cas wrings out his boxers trying to get them as dry as possible before deciding that he needed to put dry ones on after all. He tells Dean to turn around while he changes.

"I'm thinking I should go grab clothes now while I'm waiting." Dean says from the corner, towel pulled tight around his waist.

Smirking, Cas says, "Why don't you carry me there?"

"Well I do have most of the stuff I need to get your forehead stitched up in there... Yeah, that might work actually." He turns around at Cas' request to see him fully clothed, buttoning his jeans. "If Sam only hears one pair of footsteps he wouldn't be suspicious right? As long as he doesn't look out and see me half naked, carrying you... Yeah alright, get on my back."

He bends down so that Cas is able to get on, but the angel stands confused until Dean explains that he's going to give him a piggyback.

Walking with a fully grown man on his back is harder than expected, especially when trying not to let Sam know that he's there. Dean tries to keep his footsteps normal and inconspicuous, but even with all of his efforts, Sam is still apparently determined to ruin everything.

"Hey Dean!" Comes Sam's voice from down the hall, "C'mere, I need help with something!"

"Shit," Dean says under his breath. He's only a few steps away from his door. Thinking quickly, he tells Cas to go see what the younger hunter needs while Dean goes to put clean clothes on. He lets Cas climb off his back and walks quietly to his room.

"Cas?" Dean hears Sam say confusedly. "I could've sworn those were Dean's footsteps..."

Dean hurriedly tosses his dirty clothes into his laundry pile and hops around on one foot struggling into his jeans.

"No, he's taking a shower." Cas replies. Dean smacks himself in the forehead. Cas you idiot, don't tell him that...

He tugs a clean shirt over his head and rummages around in the boxes beside his bed for a needle, thread, and disinfectant.

"Oh... Well then would you just grab me a few more books from that shelf over there?"

Dean finally finds the things needed for stitches and lays back on his bed, completely exhausted. Just as he does, Cas walks in. He sits down in front of Dean and waits.

"You're so lucky he didn't question anything..." Dean whispers, sitting up again, threaded needle in hand. "Well, really, I'm the lucky one; it's my ass on the line. Eh, whatever, come here." He cups the side of Castiel's face, cleaning the wound, making sure no small pieces of glass are left (luckily it seemed that the water had washed it clean anyways), and then begins stitching the wound closed. Cas bites his lip, determined not to cry out in pain. It's a much smaller cut than Dean had originally thought, and in no time, he's finished.

With a sigh, he wipes Cas' brow with his thumb and lies back down on his bed. He's asleep as soon as he hits the pillow. With Sam taken care of for a few more hours, the angel lays his head on the hunter's stomach and closes his eyes. He thinks putting up with the setbacks of being human is worth it if he gets to be with Dean.