It felt as if time were flying by. Dean and Sam would work a case, Castiel's wings would continue to grow, Dean put Nair in Sam's shampoo, and Bobby would scold them. It was all becoming a simple and satisfying routine.

Dean was sitting on the back porch drinking a beer, deep in thought. He couldn't quite believe it, but things actually hadn't been that bad, counting only the last few weeks. But honestly Dean would take whatever he could get. May that be laughing a couple times during the week, seeing Cas give a hint of a smile, or having a casual night drinking a beer with the whole gang.

His thoughts then drifted to Cas. He still couldn't figure out why he was being so sketchy when it came to his wings. Dean had attempted to use his charm to get him to tell him why he didn't want anyone to touch them, but the angel would just blush and turn all stony faced; changing the subject. Cas obviously didn't get what charm was.

Dean chuckled quietly to himself. Maybe one day he could teach Castiel how to work some charm.

Wouldn't that be something?

It was another early morning and Dean could still see some dew covering the patchy ground. He pulled his jean jacket up higher on himself, trying to hold in some warmth for there was still a slight chill in the newborn day.

He stiffly stood up, groaning and stretching his sore muscles. Once he heard his back crack he sighed in relief as he began wandering around random classic cars splattered across the junk yard.

Still lost in thought, he found himself looping back around to the house. Once he finally made his way back to the porch, he stopped when he heard Sam talking to Castiel off in the distance. He stepped quietly across the damp dirt and peeked around the corner.

A bit of a ways off in a grassy clearing were Sam and Cas, conversing in the morning light. Streaks of pink and orange still hung in the sky as he intently watched and listened.

Sam held both hands up as he motioned to the angel on how to properly hold a gun. Castiel nodded in understanding, remembering when he had used a gun once before with Sam and Bobby as they fought off the delivery of the new croatoan virus. Sam bent over, picking up a rifle. Dean watched as Castiel held the gun up into a firing position. Sam stood close by and pointed towards different parts of the gun explaining each function.

Finally Sam pointed off towards an empty beer bottle perched on a stump not too far off. He patted his shoulder and stepped back. Dean narrowed his eyes.

Castiel fired a shot and the glass shattered into a flurry of pieces; sparkling in the reflected sunlight as tiny fragments fell to the ground.

Castiel had not been expecting the kick though. He had forgotten about it and it was something Sam had forgotten to mention. The angel flew backwards and fell flat onto his back, staring up at the sky.

Sam cringed and trotted over to him, reaching down and giving him his hand. And to Dean's surprise Cas began to laugh. Sam smiled down at his reaction as he helped him to his feet.

"Sorry Cas!"

Castiel wiped his hands onto his shirt while still holding a small smile,

"You are forgiven Sam. That was, exciting."

Sam ran his hand back through his hair and motioned towards the shattered bottle,

"You're a great shot."

He then tossed the gun to the side and said,

"Alright, I think we should duel; fisticuffs."

Castiel tilted his head in slight confusion,

"I do not think that would be wise Sam. I am still an angel. I know how to defend myself."

Sam rolled his eyes and shook his head,

"Yea but trust me, after all that time, you know, you're probably really rusty!"

Castiel paused and shrugged his shoulders, something he picked up from Dean, and crouched down while putting his fists up. Sam did the same. Dean was intrigued, and mildly fearing for the worst.

Sam threw the first punch, missing Castiel's face by inches. Cas' reflexes were amazing, but Dean could tell he was being easy on his little brother.

Sam continued to attack, while Castiel spun out of the way. Sam turned and missed Cas again just by mere inches, and then the angel quickly spun to the right and stopped abruptly as his fist was inches from Sam's tender side. The young hunter turned to face him,

"Looks like you're not as rusty after all."

Castiel commented humbly as they continued to circle each other,

"I still do not have full access to my angelic abilities, and it feels a bit odd being as slow as I am, but yes I am not that rusty."

Sam laughed and shook his head in disbelief.

They continued to duel as Dean watched from afar. He wouldn't admit it, but he felt a bit hurt, surprisingly. Out of all people, Dean thought Cas would've asked him. Dean had cared for him, comforted him, nursed him back to health, spent every waking hour with him, made himself feel really uncomfortable for him, and he chose Sam for this. Something like that was important to Dean; he was the one who taught Sam. He also wanted to be the one who taught Cas.

Dean chewed on his lip as he wondered if he was over-reacting.

Both men had been going at it for a while, there was false punch after punch, and Dean could tell Cas was begging to get sloppy.

Castiel ducked and quickly sidestepped the blow from Sam's fist. He was about to dash to his side to get him in the back, but Sam had been observing his moves, and expected it beforehand.

Sam quickly spun around. The angel's face had been much closer than expected, and before Sam could stop himself his fist slammed right into the side of Castiel's face.

Cas was still like marble, but he wasn't fully charged with his angel mojo either. Sam yelped and held his fist as Castiel stumbled and fell to one knee; holding his face. The blow would've knocked a human out cold.

Dean cringed.

Sam suddenly realized what had happened and reached out for the angel. Castiel stiffly stood up on his own while holding the side of his reddening face. He looked up at Sam with an expression of awe,

"I have never had a human punch be so…staggering."

Sam's lips tightened as he tried to hold back a snort, but failed miserably. He burst into laughter,

"Dude you have the weirdest reactions to things."

Castiel smiled and put his hand down,

"I think we should go inside now."

Sam put his hand on Castiel's shoulder as they began walking toward Dean's direction, still smiling,

"Yea that sounds like a good idea."

Dean grumbled to himself as he disappeared into the junk yard,

"Well they're gettin' real chummy aren't they."

The next day…

Dean felt horribly ignored. Each time he tried to do something remotely fun with Cas he would create an excuse and turn down his offer. Dean would later find him with Sam.

He also noticed that when they slept in the same room together, Castiel would wear a shirt. Before, even after his wings had begun to grow, he would simply strut around with his chest bare. Now he kept himself covered.

Dean was trying to figure it out, and he was still in denial that he was actually even doing it, but he would accidentally bump into him, brush his hand against his, try to rough house or hell, even tickle him, just to have him shrink away and find Sam.

Dean felt like he was some type of grotesque monster.

Dean had finished his third beer before heading into the guest room, slightly buzzed, but not feeling much different than before. He also felt exhausted. He had just completed a case by himself while the two little boys went off to play.

He grumbled to himself as he opened the door, scratching his jaw as he went to close it. He turned and paused when he saw Castiel facing away from him on the edge of the bed; huge black glossy wings hanging limply from his back and draping over where he sat. They seemed to be fully grown. All of the lights were out except for moonlight cascading in through the window and filling up the room in a pale haze.

Dean noticed how his head hung low and he cleared his throat, making his presence known. His own voice sounded a bit rough in the silence as he took a curious step forward,

"Cas, you ok?"

Castiel didn't move, but whispered in a low tone,

"I have a problem Dean."

Dean stepped even closer to the statue-like figure perched on the bed,

"Yea? What's the problem?"

Even moonlight couldn't hide the dark shade of red that tinted Castiel's skin. Dean didn't know why he was blushing, and the troubled angel stole a few quick glances over as Dean practically hovered over him. Cas' hands began to shake as he tried to hide them, fearing that Dean would see,

"I…I was afraid that this might happen." He let out a long, slow breath. "Angels have customs. We, groom each other whenever one is in need. It…could almost be considered a private ritual that we all participate in."

Dean paused,

"Oh, okay. And?"

Castiel bit his lower lip, looking away,

"…We ourselves cannot do it. Well, it is terribly difficult, to do it ourselves. And, I need my wings groomed." He finally turned to look up at Dean, his eyes wide and pleading,

"Would you groom them for me Dean?"