Chapter 5: Cas

The man held a finger to his lips, and let go of Sam´s mouth. He gestured him to follow his lead, and went through an open entrance into something that looked like a tiny living-bedroom with an even smaller kitchen in a niche to the left. The stranger headed for another door to the right, opened it, and waved at Sam to step in. It was a combination of bathroom and cupboard, with a courtain covering a deep shelf containing everything from toilet paper to a stack of shirts. To Sam´s surprise, Mr. Blue Eyes pulled the courtain open as wide as he could, to reveal a narrow niche behind the shelf. Sam understood. He slipped into the niche – not without effort; the stranger rearranged a few boxes on the shelf to cover him completely from sight, pulled the courtain closed, and left the room.

As if on clue, somebody knocked at the door, forcefully so. Sam could hear a fast conversation in Japanese – one very deep, almost gravelly voice, one rather high pitched. He followed the sound of footsteps marking the policemens´way through the tiny flat, he heard the balcony door open, then close again, and then the light in his hide-out went on, and someone stepped into the crammed room. The courtain was pulled aside, but not far enough to reveal the niche where Sam kept his breath. Somebody bowed to look into the bottom shelf (as if Sam would have fit in there...), the shower courtain was moved, then the light went out, the door closed, a few words were exchanged; and then it was silent.

Sam waited. The shelf´s side pressed into his chest, and he had the weird feeling he was running out of oxygen. Fighting the urge to free himself, he listened into the complete darkness. Heck, he had trusted a stranger...with his life, more or less. What if the man was just another criminal – most probably, a member of Yakuza whose task it was to bring Sam in...or even take him out without leaving traces.

The door opened, the courtain was pulled again. The stranger moved the boxes to the side so Sam could slip out of the niche.

Within an instant, Sam had the man pinned against the bathroom wall. He pressed his forarm against the stranger´s throat, just forceful enough to make him feel the threat, but not doing any harm – yet.

The man stared at him with his large eyes...they were almost ridiculously blue. And scared. And...innocent. Suddenly, he had Murakami´s face in front of him again. He shook the picture away.

Sam glared into the man´s eyes for a moment, releasing the pressure a little bit.

„Who the hell are you?", he whispered, aware of the sounds of footsteps above – the police were searching the upper floor.

„Did Yakuza send you? What are they playing at!"

The man´s expression changed from scared to confused-and- scared. Sam noticed the long, dark lashes. The strong chin, cleft in an adorable way. The pale skin, enhancing the eye´s color. It was as if he held a male western version of Murakami in his arms – not because of a special similarity, but for the expression he found in the stranger´s eyes...a kind of innocence that was not sullied by the experiences life may have to give out, not even the bad, tormenting, or the disgusting ones. And Sam could see the sadness deep within the man, one that had to go back a long time, having become a part of his personality...it was as if he was looking into a mirror of his own pain.

Sam felt a sudden urge to touch the man´s lips. They were...unique.

Instead, he took his arm off the guy´s throat, still staring him down threateningly though.

„Why did you help me!"

The stranger touched his throat with shaking hands. Sam waited.

„Well? You know, in my world, you don´t just get saved by strangers out of the goodness of their hearts. So – who do you belong to!"

Sam´s terse whispering voice seemed to freak the guy out enough to finally make him talk.

„I...I work for the US Trade Department...the ongoing trade agreements negotiations?" A voice, rough from Sam´s treatment, and deeper than Sam would have expected. It was...sexy.

„I´m a translator, and cultural advisor?"

The man made every sentence sound like a question. His eyes searched for understanding in Sam´s face.

„Please...please don´t kill me", he whispered, almost inaudibly.

Sam stared into the pleading eyes.

„ . .me." He pressed the words out, shoving the man against the wall again.

„I – I don´t know! I thought – I thought I´d seen you with my boss yesterday, and I didn´t really think-"

„Your boss!"

Sam increased the pressure on Blue Eye´s chest. He was already pretty sure the guy was NOT involved with any criminal organisation – and he trusted his instinct in reading people – but it wouldn´t hurt scaring him a bit more. He could turn out useful. And then, it was kind of turning him on. After all the stress, emotional and otherwise, his body ached for relief...and why not getting it by fucking a damn hot stranger with a mouth made for...

„Mr. Simmons?"

Sam zoomed in again. The other man cringed under the sudden cold focus in his tormentor´s eyes.

„Simmons is your boss?"

„Y...yes? He´s head negotiator on the US team? I saw you get out of his car yesterday evening? If it – if it was you?"

Sam let go of the man, but only to grab his arm and drag him out of the bathroom, and sit him down on the perfectly made day bed.

He stood tall above him, staring down into the guy´s face. It had taken on a resigned expression.

„It was me", he said calmly. „It still doesn´t explain why you helped me, hid me and lied to the police. You don´t strike me as the criminal type."

The guy looked up, and – was that indignation in his eyes?

„I am NOT a criminal! I´m pretty sure you are, though! What on earth Mr. Simmons had to deal with you, I can´t possibly imagine!"

WHOA. Sam couldn´t help smiling. Where did that passion come from all of a sudden...together with the fierce attitude!

He loved how the blue eyes had gone darker with the anger...God, the man was a tease...Sam had always appreciated passion – in women and men. And he used to take his pleasure from both.

„You´re right", he answered, cooly.

„I think we have to talk about your boss."

„So- what´s your name?"

Blue Eyes stared up at Sam. His mouth was a thin line.

Sam gave him a lazy smile.

„I have to call you something. If you don´t tell me, fine. I´ll just call you Blue Eyes then."

The guy snorted, much against his own will.

„Blue Eyes? Seriously? What is this, an Italian mob story?"

Sam saw the fear behind the cockyness. He thought about the calm and predictable life this man probably had led until this very day. Only to see it overturned by a stranger – who he´d invited into his life himself, in some way. It still intrigued Sam why he´d done so.

„Kind of", he answered. „Yakuza, more of."

The man stared at Sam as if he was a ghost.

„What?"

Sam could tell the guy knew excatly what Yakuza was. And what messing with their politics implied. He blanched visibly.

Sam leant against the table in his back.

„Your boss Simmons works for them", he said matter of factly, watching the other man´s face for a reaction. He got it right on. Shock.

„What?", he cried out, voice strangled, staring back at Sam, incredulity and fear in his eyes. And, after a moment, something like a dawning realization.

„Oh my God", he whispered, face tense. „Oh my God."

Sam cocked his head, watching the other man with interest.

„You had a suspicion?"

Blue Eyes shook his head slowly, dazed. „A suspicion – no, it wasn´t...it was just... some things not adding up..."

He looked up at Sam again. „How do you know? Why should I believe you!"

„Because I work for them, too", was Sam´s quiet answer. The other man took in a sharp breath. He made a motion as if he wanted to just get up and run. Sam only had to righten himself up again, tightening his muscles, to make him freeze.

„At least, I did. Not sure, but I think I´m now a risk for them to get rid of. All this police outside, already waiting for me – I´ve been set up."

The guy eyed Sam with slightly squinted eyes.

„I´m not sure I feel sorry for you", he croaked. Sam was surprised. Sarkasm, huh...he hadn´t really expected it.

„I killed someone", he answered, as calmly as before.

„On Yakuza´s orders. There´s no need to feel sorry for me."

A blank stare. Sam could practically see the other man shrink back against the wall.

„So...that´s what you are? A killer...for hire?" It wasn´t more than a rough whisper.

Sam looked into the scared eyes...scared, and – with a hint of contempt in them.

Sam usually didn´t give a damn about peoples´opinion of him. He wasn´t delusional about his profession, about the path he had chosen. But somehow he didn´t like being judged by this stranger. He felt anger boiling up inside his stomach – and the unexpected need to explain his motives. What was it with this guy!

„I am", he said, voice so low it was barely audible. „But don´t you dare judge me without having any idea who I am."

He stared down, his face a mask.

„And now you´ll tell me your name. I´ll not ask another time."

Blue Eyes stared back. One, two, three seconds passed. Something shifted...Sam suddenly got the impression the other man could read people as easily as he himself did. He was not used to being scrutinized like this – as if the eyes looked right down into his soul. It was – unpleasant, and embarrassing, and – strangely relieving.

More seconds passed, and the situation just was on the verge of turning awkward, when the other man finally spoke. He seemed to have found something in Sam´s eyes he hadn´t expected, either.

„Castiel", he said, voice only a deep growl.

„But you can call me Cas."

It was not really that risky confiding in a guy he had never seen before in his life, he did practically not know anything about besides his name and address, and who seemed to have a weird and slightly disturbing ability to look into peoples´ heads. At least that was what Sam told himself while he was laying out the basics of his connections to Yakuza for Castiel – Cas. He still could kill the man within two seconds. But there was something in the man´s eyes, and demeanor, that opened floodgates he had kept tightly closed for so many years it hurt even coming near them. He didn´t spill everything, of course – he was too professional for that – but without even being fully aware, he had told Cas about his family. About the one day of his life that changed everything. A broken father, a dead mother, a lost brother.

Cas just looked at him, and listened. He seemed not only to hear the words though. Sam felt like having all the buried emotions touched by a searching light, the pain, the fear, the anger. It was as if Cas had the ability to feel all the unsaid stuff that lay behind the words.

His gaze didn´t waver; he only stirred when Sam mentioned Dean being taken.

When Sam fell silent, wondering what on earth had hit him to talk at all, Cas kept looking at him for a few seconds. Sam stared back, daring him to say, or do anything to give him an excuse to – strike something? Hit his face? Kiss him and throw him on the bed?

When Cas finally spoke, it made Sam jerk. He´d already been mind-stripping the other man and gotten pretty far.

„How did you find out about Yakuza still having your brother...and using him?"

Sam watched him with squinted eyes.

„I had help with the research. Old family friend."

„And you are absolutely sure you´ll find your brother here."

It wasn´t a question, but a statement.

„Yes."

„But...are you sure it is your brother you´ll find?"

Cas looked up. Sam saw compassion in his eyes. It made him uncomfortable.

He opened his mouth to give an answer, but hesitated.

Cas had hit the one, big Unknown Quantity. The guy had set eyes on him for the first time one hour ago – if you left the short glimpse from the day before aside - and still had dug deep enough into Sam to unearth his biggest fear.

The one question Sam couldn´t give an answer to.

Who would he find when he finally got to Dean: the brother he had lost? A person so twisted and broken there wasn´t much left to tie him to the young, carefree boy Sam had known and adored? A cold blooded monster?

Sam tore his eyes from Cas´face.

„I don´t know", he whispered. Looking back at the other man, his voice gained strength again.

„But I do know one thing. I have to find him. And whoever – whatever it is he has become, I have to try and find my brother in it...him. He´s...he´s all the family I´ve got, and I cannot – I cannot believe they could have taken away everything he´s once been. He was a good person. A – a kind soul. There – there must something be left of that, right?" Sam stared down at his hands. The hands that had tortured, and hurt, and killed.

„He is my brother, and I have to save him", he said.

Because that´s the only way all that I´ve done – who I´ve become, makes any sense at all. The only chance I too can be saved. The only way to dig out the boy I once was under all this cold violent anger.

But Sam didn´t say that aloud. He was barely able to think it.

A minute passed in silence. Sam felt oddly at peace for the first time in weeks. He had a purpose, and it had dawned on him just now again he would follow it – at any cost.

„I will help you."

Sam looked up, right into the incredibly blue eyes.

„Why?"

Cas lowered his eyes to his hands, tugging at a thread of the bed cover. Sam waited. After a minute, he sat down on one of the two wooden chairs.

„I had a brother once, too", Cas finally said. „Not by birth...I didn´t have siblings. But he was...he and his parents were my chosen family. I felt more connected to them than I ever did to my biological parents..."

Sam listened to the other man´s breathing. After a while, he asked, „What happened?"

Cas looked up for a moment only.

„Human stupidity", he huffed. „Or war, if you prefer that."

He sighed.

„I grew up near Seattle...right besides of one of the largest settlements of Americans of Japanese origin. Usually, there wasn´t much contact, although they had already been there for generations. It was more an...indifferent coexistence."

He shifted on the bed, pulling up his legs and hugging them with his arms.

„I was kind of a lonely child...my father was in the army, and I didn´t see much of him...my mother...she was... So I was outside most of the time, there was an old sandpit behind our house. It was my kingdom. And then, one day, this other boy appeared. Takemi."

Sam saw the small smile on Cas´face.

„He was even smaller and scrawnier than me, if that was even possible. I don´t know why, but we kind of were made for each other. When we started school after summer, I was really happy to see him in my classroom." He rocked back and forth slowly, staring at nothing in particular.

„Well...we became really good friends. Brothers. And I stayed more time at his house than at my own home. Not that anyone noticed", he added, with a bitter undertone.

„Then Pearl Harbor happened, and our government went paranoid about the Japanese Americans. I guess you know about the camps."

Sam nodded slowly. „Were your friends taken there?"

Cas huffed again."Of course they were. Didn´t matter none of them had ever harmed anyone, never broken any law, never shown anything but loyalty and love to the US. Takemi and me, we were 12, 13 years old. We built Airforce plane models together for Christ´s sake. And then, within one week, they had to pack their things and leave."

He kept rocking. His voice had become even rougher than before.

„When they were finally allowed to return to their homes, it was different. It never – it never went back to the way it had been before. After a few months, they moved to another city. And my father was permanently sent to Japan soon after that, so my mother and I went with him too."

His eyes grew darker. „Takemi´s father...I don´t know what happened to him in the camp, but – he wasn´t the man he had been before when they came back. He was the kindest and most patient person I have ever met in my life. And then...it was as if someone had taken his strength and energy away, and left an empty robot. Functioning, working, but soulless. It destroyed Takemi´s mother too...and Takemi...he..."

Cas didn´t go on, and Sam didn´t push him. He could perfectly imagine what the whole situation had done to Cas´friend. He´d lived through it himself.

„I´m sorry", he said.

Cas nodded slowly. „Me too", he murmured.

It all ended in Cas studying Japanology, history and - because his father insisted – economics in Tokyo; and when his parents moved back to the US, he didn´t go with them, but stayed in Japan, working for the US department of trade in various jobs, the last two years for the new trade agreements, with Simmons as his boss.

„Have you ever tried to find him?", Sam asked, a while after Cas had fallen silent.

„Takemi?", Cas asked, and Sam could tell he only did so to gain time.

„No, James Dean in his red leather jacket", he sighed. Cas huffed.

„I did...as good as a teenager could back then. I found out squat."

Cas shook his head.

„Sometimes I can see his face in the crowd. His 15 year old face. Somehow Takemi didn´t grow older in my imagination."

He looked at Sam, head tilted. Sam just sat there, lower arms on his knees, and frowned at the floor.

He only looked up when Cas started chuckling. Genuinely surprised, he straightened up. Cas´shoulders twitched, and soon he was laughing out loud, still rocking, head bent back. Sam shook his head in wonder.

„What´s so funny?", he asked, not sure how he felt about Cas´strange behaviour. It had been a long time since anyone had laughed at him. Precisely since one night when the doorbell of their family apartment had buzzed, and his Mom had opened the door to two polite strangers, who later turned out to be killers and abductors hired to destroy four lives in the time it took his father to run home three blocks.

„I haven´t talked about this to anyone. Ever. For...12, 13 years? No one. And here I am, spilling the story of my life to a stranger, who happens to be a hired killer and murderer and I don´t even want to know what else...isn´t it hilarious!"

Sam watched the other man with comprehension. He showed clear signs of hysteria, eyes watering, whole body twitching. He couldn´t tell exactly when the laughing turned into hitched, painful sobs. Sam only knew he had never met anybody as strange as this blue eyed guy in front of him, and he sure had had his share of weirdos so far.

He got up and grabbed Cas´shoulders firmly.

„Cas", he said, shaking him. „Castiel."

The other man stared up at him, body jerking, producing something between laughing and crying, tears running down his face.

Sam shook him again, rather violently this time, and could hear Cas´ teeth rattle. It worked though. Cas stopped making any sound at all, he just sat there, pinned to the wall by Sam, staring into his face with huge eyes. Disturbingly blue eyes.

That was when Sam crashed his lips on Cas´mouth. With force.

And that also was when he got surprised by the other man again, because Cas grabbed Sam´s hair and pulled him even closer, and kissed him back so violently Sam split his lip open. He tasted blood, and it turned him on in an unexpected way. Then Cas´tongue dived into his mouth, exploring and taking possession...Sam grabbed the black, wild hair, jerking Cas´ head back, swirling his tongue around Cas´, hardly giving him a chance to breathe. The hidden passion in the other man was a tease, sending hot energy right down into his groin; lips still glued to Cas´, he slammed him down on the bed. Cas stared up at him, a surprised, passionate, aroused look in his eyes, fear and fire mixing in a way it drove Sam mad. There was nothing soft or romantic in their kissing. It was pure need, want, lust. Their hands grabbed, and touched, and tore, leaving marks where they found bare skin; nails dug into flesh, fingers tangled into hair. When Cas groaned in an almost animalistic way, his back arching up to meet the other man´s groin, it sent hot waves through Sam´s body. He pressed down, grinding and pushing, evoking more strangled moans; panting heavily, Sam wandered down the bared chest, licking and biting, pinning down the other man with one arm, while the other went to his waistband. He ripped out Cas´shirt, fumbled with his belt buckle, all the while working his lips downwards, tasting the soft skin on Cas´tummy, breathing in his scent. Cas freed his hands from Sam´s grip, and grabbed the mess of his long hair, tugging at it painfully. Sam growled. Having this man, this stranger, writhing and moaning under his lips was driving him crazy in ways...he jerked the fly of Cas´trousers open, and swiped them down his butt with both hands. When his teasing lips touched the already hard cock, Cas´ hips jerked up, searching for more, more friction, more pressure, more ...Sam pressed his hands on Cas´prominent hipbones, pressing him into the matress, holding him still; he felt lust vibrating down to the other man´s bones- it was like touching electricity. His lips tugged their way from the base of Cas´cock up to the smooth and tender head, teasing and torturing, nippling at the rim, tongue licking its way up to the tiny slit. Cas buckled up uncontrollably, producing sounds Sam had never heard anyone make. He had had his fun with boys, and men, before, but this...this was new.

Looking up at Cas, he found him staring down right into his eyes, pupils wide, eyes almost black, and glazed like a drunk´s. He was already at the verge of exploding, and Sam hadn´t even started the real thing yet. It filled him with a wild satisfaction to see this man totally loose it under his touches...he felt his own penis twitch, and swell, claiming attention. Not yet. Not...yet...he sucked in the head of Cas´cock. Cas hissed, nails digging into Sam´s scalp...Sam let his tongue swirl around the rim, one, two, three times – until he felt a desperate pull on his hair. He looked up, giving in to the movement, and relieving Cas´cock. Cas was sweating, pearls running down his face, and chest; his hair was a mess, lips wet and swollen, and his eyes – „Take...me...want..you...", he panted, incoherently, voice a hoarse growl, barely human. Sam straightened up, kneeling between Cas´legs, staring down into the other man´s face. „Now...please...want...need..."

Sam opened his own fly, pulled down his trousers, finally got rid of them; he thumbed Cas´cock one more time, making the other man whimper with pleasure, slicking his fingers with precome. When he touched Cas´ hole, circling its rim, Cas almost lost it. Sam bent down, stared into the huge eyes, wiped the sweaty hair from his front in a gesture somewhere between reassuring and violent...he entered Cas´ hole with one finger, two, making him jerk and writhe under him; it was all the preparation Sam would give him, as he felt his own control reaching its borders, cock twitching and almost hurting from need.

„Want...now...", Cas hissed, his hips raising to meet Sam´s, hands pulling, tearing, nails scratching...Sam let the already leaking head of his penis linger at Cas´hole for an instant – and then he pushed in.

It was raw, and brutal, and violent. Pure. No thinking, no regards, no consideration. It was pounding, and pushing, and hammering, muscles and bones and sweat. Somewhere on the way, Cas had slung his legs around Sam´s back, then shoulders, leaving his lean body nearly folded in half, giving Sam the angle he needed to hit the one spot that made Cas gasp, and yelp, and claw at Sam´s neck, pulling him down into a kiss that was more a predator´s bite...and then, Cas´whole body tensed, arched, and Sam felt shivers running through him as if he was being electrocuted; he couldn´t contemplate the other man´s orgasm for long, though, as he was reaching his own peak, vision going white, sound dying, and then everything was just nerves, feeling, being. Sam thrusted a few more times, hips jerking so hard his hipbones hurt, pulling out, pushing in, out, in, out, in – and then, the white-hot, blissful on the brink of pain, relief.

Sam fell down, half on top of Cas, half on the bed, panting violently; he felt Cas´chest heaving, heard his gasping intakes of air, like a drowning man pulled from the water.

He was...spent. Closing his eyes, he waited for his senses to start functioning properly again...he listened to Cas´ breathing slowing down eventually, felt the frantic beating of both their hearts, smelled the sweat, the hormones, the sex...his fingers felt for the sticky mess on Cas´stomach...smeared it on this incredibly smooth, flat belly...caught on the rim of his navel...

A deep, growling sound escaped the other man, satisfied, exhausted. Sam considered getting up, cleaning up, but instead he closed his eyes again and just lay there, not even pulling up his briefs, the slight draught cool on his sweaty skin, making him shiver. Only when he started to feel cold he pushed himself away from the warm body at his side, causing Cas to moan in irritation, and turn on his side, looking for warmth. Sam stood at the side of the bed, looking down at the man he´d just had the most mind blowing sex of his life with: a lean, almost scrawny body, pale, goosebumps showing on the calfs and arms; dark shadows on the cheeks, long black lashes standing out against the bluish skin. Cas didn´t open his eyes; Sam took the free part of the bed´s day cover and spread it over Cas´body, getting a „hmmmmmm..." in return. He chuckled, shaking his head in wonder – he still wasn´t sure what the hell had just happened here – and went for the bathroom.

When he came out, cleaned up, wearing one of Cas´shirts, Cas was fast asleep. Sam took one of the cushions off his bed, sat down in the low stuffed chair, stretched his long legs, and settled in for a long wait.