Chapter Six

The next night...

Dean Winchester raised a hand to rifle through his own short blonde locks, taking a moment to look over the letter he was in the process of writing to one of his father's closest comrades and a valued member of their organization, as he sat and loomed over the papers lain out messily on his desk.

A white candle burned solemnly next to him as he brought his pen back down on the paper, adding a few more notes and then read over his words once more.

John Winchester had asked him to look over the next week's schedule of shipments due to arrive and to inform the Winchester Fratello's most prominent business associate who only went by the name Crowley regarding the prices they were asking and the goods in stock.

Word had gotten around that Benny had taken a crew out to the Tyrrhenian Sea a few weeks ago and had infiltrated several merchant ships, confiscating weapons and rare currency that had been cargo with the upper-class vendors, which the Winchester Fratello was now putting up for bid with their most prestigious customers.

The Winchesters knew that Crowley would be interested in what they were selling, and as Dean finished writing the last of the letter notifying of the auction that was to take place in another few weeks, he sat back in his chair and folded the parchment which was to be later sent by courier to Verona.

Dean sighed pensively, casting a glance up from his desk to the double windows before him, blackened with night and wet with the pouring rainwater.

Too many thoughts had been troubling him as of late.

Dean personally dreaded the upcoming auction of their recently acquired goods, as he and Sam were always given the task of overseeing the guarding of the manor as John and a few chosen others hosted the auction and moved priceless goods in and out as quickly as possible.

Dean had always felt that he needed to be by his father, helping him; helping him run the auction since one day he would have to take on such responsibilities himself.

"...right? I mean...that is what I want...isn't it...?" Dean could not help but ask himself the heavy question once again, the same one that had been occurring to him more times recently than he would ever care to admit, as the eldest Winchester son lifted a hand and scrubbed it across his face.

...tap...tap...

Dean dropped his head immediately and raised his head, green eyes looking left and right in response to the sound for a moment before peering straight ahead toward the window.

A figure shrouded in grey with a hood pulled down low was perched on the windowpane outside, his long white robes being pushed from the rushing wind of the rainstorm and Dean quickly jumped to his feet and marched towards the glass.

Winchester's heart thudded inside his chest as he unhooked the latch to the windows and then threw open the double panes, letting Castiel step inside his personal chambers.

Dean watched as the other man crawled inside, his movements careful as he planted his feet on the carpeted floor and then shut the windows to ward off the impending cold and rain from which he had just came.

"Here you are..." Dean mused with a nod of his head, remembering in an instant why he had wanted the enigmatic assassin the come back to see him, as he licked his lips at the way Castiel looked towards the burning candles on the table and then brought his hood away from his face to rest down on his shoulders.

"Yes...though, I'm not really sure why..." Castiel admitted as he slid his gaze from the small formations of fire to Dean even hotter gaze directed solely on him.

Their eyes steadily held for another solid minute before Castiel had to look away, and that was all the provocation Dean needed to begin walking the short distance over to him.

Dean could feel that his nerves had settled, his anxiety gone, even about other issues, as his mind was miraculously clear and he knew what he wanted to do.

Castiel provided him that clarity, that ease of his problems no matter how deeply rooted, and Dean needed to be closer to the gorgeous creature that had come to him just as he had asked only a few short days ago.

Those days had felt like another lifetime to them both just the same, but now their moment had come again for them to finally discover what was happening between them.

"I don't know either...I'm glad you came...I wanted to see you," Dean spoke plainly to the black-haired male, watching those ocean-blue eyes sparkle at his words as he stepped directly in front of Castiel and brought a hand to his face.

Castiel suddenly backed away from Dean, lowering his chin and his eyes as he obviously struggled with his own thoughts and avoided Dean's touch.

"Stop this..." Castiel forced the words from his mouth, his eyebrows knit in worry, as his fists clenched and unclenched down at his sides a few times while he continued, "...I can't...I...I shouldn't be here..."

Castiel took one step towards the window, but Dean's iron-clad grip on his arm stopped all of his movements, causing pained blue to flick towards stern green.

"You can't just..." Dean had begun to voice strongly but softened his gaze and loosened his hold along the sopping wet white material currently in his grasp," ...you're soaked totally through, Cas."

Castiel frowned, knowing Dean's words to be true, as he noticed the way his lengthy robes were dripping onto the carpet below.

The assassin let Dean turn him so they faced each other once more, Dean not taking his hands off of either of Castiel's sleeves.

"You could catch one hell of a cold wearing wet clothes, you know..." Dean said with gentle smirk, able to see that he was breaking down the barriers the blue-eyed male had previously set up around himself, as the two of them inched even closer still, and this time, Castiel did not move away when Dean trailed his fingers down one of his cheeks, "...let me help you."

Castiel swallowed hard but said no words of protest as Dean began unbuckling the many leather straps that criss-crossed over his chest and waist, all of them holding various knives and daggers that were covered by the folds of his robes but were now easily lowered to the floor.

"Dean...I uh..." the assassin was having trouble voicing a complete sentence aloud as his thick gauntlets were removed, the long blades staying hidden, as they were lain down on the desk Dean had been working at prior to his arrival.

"What is it, Cas? Talk to me..." Dean replied, his eyes still focused on his task at hand of slowly stripping away the damp material from Castiel's upper body and draping them along the back of the wooden chair to dry.

The black-haired man placed his hands on Dean's, Castiel's torso bared and gleaming in the low light of the room, as he spoke somberly.

"I'm glad I came to see you, too..." Castiel replied the honest answer, grinning at the way Dean's eyes darkened and a most handsome smile curved his lips as well.

Dean licked his lips and interlaced their fingers together.

"Come here..." Dean practically purred as he lead Castiel over towards his large, extravagantly made bed where the wooden canopy frame provided rich hues that complimented well with the royal purple and dark red accents of the duvet and overstuffed pillows that lined the top.

Boots were quickly kicked off and the two men simply lie across the width of the bed rather than the length, the pliant blankets rumpling around them as they settled next to each other.

Castiel breathed easier, the thought occurring firmly inside his mind that lounging on such a comfortable mattress and blankets was a far better circumstance than immersing himself back outside in the poor weather and ignoring Dean.

He felt soothed, he felt in control even though he did not know what the next minute would bring...he felt wholesome.

Castiel smiled as he heard Dean also rid himself of his jacket and shirt underneath, the blonde-haired male only then leaning down close to the assassin, letting his chest touch Castiel's side as Dean brought a hand to his shoulders.

"Holy hell, Cas..." Dean whispered, possibly more to himself than to the black-haired male before him, as Winchester slowly, softly trailed his fingers along the many lines of repaired flesh that decorated Castiel's arms and back, "...there are so many..."

Castiel's eyes lowered to the bedspread just beyond his nose as he continued to rest his chin on the mattress, his entire body feeling impossibly lethargic and drained of fight for once in his life, not even possessing the will to move an inch for a blessed moment more.

"Some were from training...most of them were from jobs..." Castiel admitted as he could feel his skin tingle where Dean would touch him with such intimate praise and intricacy that the assassin felt as if he could be lulled into a deep sleep from such ministrations.

"You mean...when you were sent to kill people," Dean spoke fairly but not harshly, his words causing Castiel's eyes to open upon hearing the truth being spoken to him from someone not in the Brotherhood.

Castiel wanted to say yes, to admit to it, and had even licked his lips so he may speak more comfortably but remained silent and instead carefully rolled over to lie on his back so he may look at Dean Winchester.

Dean looked over saddened cobalt blue peering up at him and he could not help but bring a hand to that strong jaw and luscious pink lips, anchoring the two of them together even more so as Dean lowered his weight down and softly pressed their lips together.

The kiss was simple and precious, making Castiel melt into the warmth of Dean's smooth chest touching his front while his back sank a little deeper into the cloud-like mattress behind him, as the assassin trailed his fingers across Dean's large hands and up his arms.

"...you don't have to say anything, Cas..." Dean breathed the words against Castiel's lips, the Winchester male's fingers threading in and out of coal-black hair as fine as silk, as he ran his nose over the assassin's recently scarred cheek and pressed another small kiss there, "...I know."

At those words, words that were kept vague and open and all-encompassing of everything there was to know about the quiet assassin without even providing as much, Castiel felt his throat constrict for a second with the need to weep.

But Castiel did not cry, burying the feeling, relishing in it as it had struck him so firmly...such happiness.

Unbridled.

Unquestioned.

Wonderful.

Perhaps neither male fully understood this connection they felt for the other, the reasons why their touches felt so pure and right...

All Castiel knew in this moment was that Dean was the first person to ever care for him in this way...to express concern for his well-being and joy when their eyes met; their kisses acting like greetings and unspoken pleas for permission...permission that was granted each time and neither questioned a thing about it.

The dark-haired assassin wrapped his arms around Dean's shoulders, something wholly significant finding its rightful place within himself and allowing him to finally accept this situation for what it was, as he rolled them over on the bed, pushing aside more of the blankets around them.

"You're stronger than you look..." Dean commented with a lighthearted smile, his palm cradling the side of Castiel's jaw, thumb gently rubbing back and forth across the horizontal scar on his cheekbone as his jade eyes narrowed a bit prior to him continuing, "...how did this one happen? You didn't have it last time."

Castiel brought his fingers to Dean's wrist, trailing over the tanned skin there before politely lowering both of their joined hands to the bed, the assassin stretching his lithe form fully upon the larger male.

"It doesn't matter..." Castiel smiled contentedly as he blinked slowly at the inviting sight before him, his and Dean's noses touching as they remained intimately close, needing the physical contact from the other, "...none of that matters anymore."

Dean mirrored the other man's lazy smile, seeming to understand Castiel's meaning of the surreal escape that they somehow had created only with each other.

Another petal-soft kiss and then Castiel laid his head down upon Dean's broad chest, immediately feeling masculine hands gently smooth down the back his neck and shoulders, making the assassin hum low in his throat as he closed his eyes.

The black-haired male could feel a deep slumber quickly overtaking his senses, lulling him into a safe, tender place that felt too good for words, truly unlike anything he had ever felt before, and as the last of his consciousness gave way to that void, Castiel could have sworn he had heard Dean whisper something aloud.

It had sounded like...angel.