Warnings: Explicit sex, discussion of homophobia, and oblique references to child abuse and self harm.

Many thanks to NeteleJala, gnbrules, Eyum daRelmera, and superchiwo for taking the time to share their thoughts. This story has gotten the most reviews of any story I've ever published. You guys are amazing and I couldn't do this without you. =)

Chapter Twelve

He woke up alone, but before he could panic he caught the scent of coffee and … pancakes? Yes, definitely pancakes. Castiel smiled into the pillow and stretched, sheets slithering luxuriously over his naked back. Technically since they'd spent the night at his place, the morning-after-breakfast should have been his responsibility, but if Dean wanted to cook for him, he certainly wasn't going to complain.

Unfortunately it was a weekday and he had to make sure Claire got to school on time, so he could only laze around in bed for a few minutes, but as he got up and dressed, tossing last night's haphazardly discarded clothes in the hamper while he was at it, he found himself feeling much more alert and cheerful than he usually did before caffeine. Even the soreness in his muscles made him smile. Fuck, that had been the most amazing night of his life. It had been a while, true, but still he was pretty sure sex hadn't always been like that.

Claire's bed was empty, so he followed the delicious smells and the low rumble of Dean's voice to the kitchen where he found … A dream come true. Dean was standing at the stove, barefoot and unshaven, and even in the weak wintry sunlight struggling through the window he looked unfairly beautiful. Claire was kneeling on a chair beside him, and he was teaching her how to flip a pancake.

"Slide it under nice and gentle. That's it. Now lift up and quickly turn the whole thing upside down. Perfect!"

"Good morning," Castiel said.

They turned, both grinning. Claire pointed to the perfectly flipped pancake, then pointed to herself.

"I saw. It's beautiful, and I bet it tastes as good as it looks." He ruffled her hair and gave Dean a good morning kiss. "Mmm. Speaking of things that taste as good as they look," he murmured as they parted.

Dean laughed. "Coffee?"

"Yes, please. Although I don't need it as desperately as I usually do. For some reason I woke up feeling incredibly well rested."

"Yeah, me too. I wonder why that could be," Dean teased back, his eyes sparkling. "You can put that one on the plate now," he added to Claire, "and pour on another scoop of batter like I showed you. Remember to wait for the bubbles before you try to flip it."

She followed his instructions with the care and focus of someone who took their job very seriously.

"I hope I didn't overstep," Dean said quietly, keeping one eye on Claire and the pancakes while he poured Castiel a cup of coffee. "She wandered in while I was mixing up the batter, and I figured I'd keep her entertained so you could sleep a little longer."

Castiel tilted his head and gave Dean a bemused look. "Of course it's all right. Dean, you made breakfast and you made her smile. Exactly which part of that did you think would upset me?"

Dean smiled sheepishly. "Well, when you put it like that."

The pancakes were good even if some of them were oddly shaped and a little burnt around the edges. Dean took Castiel's hand where it rested invitingly between their plates and stroked the back with his thumb. Castiel darted a glance at Claire, gaging her reaction. She'd accepted the idea of him having a boyfriend very easily in theory, but when it came to actually sharing his attention she might feel differently. However she was currently devouring her handiwork and seemed completely oblivious to what the adults were doing. Castiel decided to take that as a good sign.

"You won't take off while I'm gone, will you?" he asked while he was waiting for Claire to get her school bag. He tried to make it sound teasing and failed utterly.

"Oh, you ain't getting rid of me that easy," Dean said, drawing Castiel close and nuzzling his cheek. "I didn't get to do even a quarter of the things I want to do to you yet."

The dark promise in his voice sent a shiver of desire up Castiel's spine. He turned his head and captured Dean's lips, tasting coffee and maple syrup. Dean groaned softly and pushed his tongue deep into Castiel's mouth. Heat raced through him, every nerve humming with pleasure. Clearly the sex hadn't diminished their attraction in the slightest. Quite the opposite.

When they broke for air, Claire was standing in the kitchen door, watching them with the enigmatic expression that little kids did so well. Castiel jumped a little. He hadn't heard her, though that probably had less to do with her being quiet and more to do with his attention being fully occupied. He cleared his throat. "Are you ready to go?"

She nodded.

He got his coat on, pecked Dean on the cheek just because he could, and they were halfway out the door when Claire suddenly darted back inside and hugged Dean tightly around the waist.

Dean looked surprised, but he hugged her back and said, "Have a good day at school, kiddo."

She let him go, pointed at him, then pointed emphatically at the floor.

"She wants to know if you'll still be here when she gets home," Castiel translated, though from the forcefulness of her gestures he suspected it had been more an order than a question. He gave Dean a nod behind her back.

"Yeah, sure I will," Dean said.

She hugged him again, then followed Castiel out the door, still smiling.

The school was easy walking distance from his apartment, and it was a morning ritual that Castiel had actually become quite fond of. The exercise woke him up, and he liked the feeling of her warm little hand in his, trusting and safe. They usually walked in silence, but today he said, "You really like cooking, huh?"

She looked up at him and nodded.

"Would you like to help me in the kitchen more often? Maybe we could make cookies this weekend."

He was rewarded with the most brilliant smile he'd gotten out of her yet. Then she abruptly stopped walking, pulled her hand out of his, and dug in her pocket for her notepad and pencil. She'd taken to carrying them everywhere with her, but she still only used writing when she had a question she couldn't figure out how to mime. Such as, Wil Deen make cookis with us too?

Castiel smiled. "I'm sure he will if we ask him very nicely."

~o0o~

This time Castiel didn't let up until he had Dean coming in his mouth and screaming, "Cas, Cas, Cas!" He swallowed as much as he could, licked up what escaped, then painted Dean's chest with his own release while the other man gazed up at him like Castiel was the sex god here, like he was the most beautiful thing that had ever existed.

"Where have you been all my life?" Dean groaned as Castiel collapsed beside him. "I had no idea sex could be this good."

"Neither did I," Castiel chuckled. His ears were still ringing, and his own voice sounded a little muffled. "I propose we stay right here for the rest of the day and see just how good it can get."

"I second that."

They stirred themselves enough to clean up, then snuggled up under the blankets and kissed lazily for a while, hands exploring each other's bodies, learning every sharp, masculine line and finding the soft, sensitive places that even the toughest man had. They were in no hurry to get to round two (or four if you were counting from last night). This quiet in between time was just as intimate and just as enjoyable.

"I told Sam about you," Dean said out of the blue. "Not your name or anything, but I told him I was seeing someone and it was serious."

"I don't mind if you tell him my name," Castiel said. "Does he know it's a man you're dating?"

"Yeah. He was actually the first person I ever came out to, and he's always been really supportive. I don't think I could have handled all the shit if I hadn't had Sammy on my side. Especially my dad's reaction. He hit the roof, tried to kick me out, but Sam said that if I had to leave, then he was going with me, and Dad could either take both of us as we were or lose us both."

Castiel blinked. "That was very brave." He began to get an inkling of why Dean had stood by his brother so loyally even after what most people would consider an unforgivable act. "My brother —" He bit his tongue, but then decided to let the traitorous words out. They had been eating at him for weeks, and if anyone would listen without judging, it was Dean. "Jimmy wasn't supportive. He wasn't mean about it. He just made it clear that my love life was my own business and he didn't want to hear about it or meet any of my boyfriends, no matter how serious it was. He'd probably be furious with me for letting you into Claire's life, kissing you right in front of her and teaching her that it's not wrong."

"Was it a religious issue," Dean asked, "or just his own personal feelings?"

"Sort of both. Jimmy and I … We didn't have a happy childhood, and we both had our coping mechanisms, some healthier than others."

Dean's fingers traced the scars on Castiel's legs, but he didn't interrupt.

"Jimmy's was religion, and it worked for him for a long time. After Claire's mother died though, he stopped going to church. He said God either didn't exist or didn't care, so prayer was a waste of breath. But I guess some beliefs were too deeply ingrained, and this … It disgusted him. We avoided the subject as much as possible."

"But he still gave you guardianship of Claire," Dean said quietly.

"He didn't have many choices. I was his only living family, and he knew from personal experience how fucked up the foster system is. Even if I don't raise her exactly the way he would have, at least I love her like she was my own. That's the most important thing. Or so I keep telling myself." Castiel cuddled closer to Dean, silently requesting a change of subject.

Dean was happy to oblige, and together they chased away the gloomy mood that had crept into the room.

~o0o~

Getting called into Naomi's office was always worrying. Naomi being nice was even more so.

"Have a seat," she said, gesturing to the couch rather than the more formal and less comfortable chair in front of the desk. "Would you like tea?"

"Um, okay." Castiel was suspicious, but he was reasonably sure she wouldn't poison him.

She put a tea bag in a mug and poured water from her electric kettle. "So," she said, handing him the steaming cup and sitting beside him. "You and Dean."

Castiel sighed. "Me and Dean." He'd guessed that was going to be the topic of this conversation, but he'd hoped he was wrong, particularly since only he had been called onto the carpet and not Dean. He would have felt much more confident with Dean's warm, reassuring presence at his side, but he wasn't going to show weakness by calling for backup. "There's no rule against it," he said, trying not to sound too defensive, "and our behavior has been nothing but professional during work hours. What we do in our free time is none of your business."

"Castiel," Naomi said exasperatedly. "Why are you so determined to cast me as the villain?"

He raised an eyebrow. "So you don't object to me sleeping with Dean?"

"Not in the way you think, but it does worry me. I don't want to see you hurt."

The absurdity of that made Castiel snort with laughter and almost choke on his tea. "Dean isn't going to hurt me. He …" Loves me? He wasn't sure of that yet, but the way Dean looked at him while they were making love, the way he held him when Castiel was breaking down and didn't even ask why, the secrets they'd shared … This wasn't a fling.

Naomi's expression was sympathetic which was even more unnerving than the politeness. "Maybe not on purpose, but I've known men like him before. They have short attention spans. When the next fascinating new thing comes along …"

"Dean isn't like that." Castiel stood up and put some distance between himself and her insidious words. He understood now why he'd been called in here alone. She was going to try to turn him against Dean since she couldn't forbid them from seeing each other. "He's a good man."

"Castiel, I understand how you feel." Naomi leaned forward earnestly. "Believe it or not, I've had a whirlwind romance or two in my life. I know how thrilling it is to catch the eye of a handsome, charming man. He makes you feel special, attractive, wanted. Of course you don't want to see his flaws."

Castiel put his teacup down on the desk, splashing a few drops on Naomi's papers because his hands were shaking. "So you think I'm a child?" he said coldly. "Ruled by my hormones? Or worse, you think I'm so insecure that I'll jump into bed with any man who shows the slightest interest in me? You have no idea what he makes me feel."

Recognizing that she'd pushed him too far, Naomi held up her hands in surrender. "Perhaps not. And perhaps it is, as you said, none of my business. But may I show you something before you dismiss my opinions entirely?"

"Show me what?" he snapped.

She opened her filing cabinet and took out a sheaf of papers stapled together. He took them warily. It was Dean's resume. It was long, but that wasn't unusual for a chef. Restaurants came and went like mayflies.

"Look at the dates. Not all those restaurants went out of business, and as far as I can tell he's never been fired. Everyone gives him glowing references, but he's never stayed anywhere longer than two years."

"The gypsy life," Castiel muttered under his breath. But Dean had told him about that, and he'd said he was tired of it. He'd said this thing between them was serious. "If you think he has commitment issues," Castiel said louder, "why did you agree to hire him permanently?"

Naomi's look was treading the line between sympathy and pity this time. "You and I both know that permanent doesn't mean the same thing in this business as it does in the normal world. I don't think he'd leave without giving notice and giving us a chance to find a replacement. But a sous chef is easier to replace than a lover. Just … think about this carefully, Castiel. Like I said, I'd hate to see you get hurt."

He nodded. "Thank you for your concern, but I can manage my love life perfectly well on my own. If there's nothing else, I should get back to work now."