Many thanks to Eyum daRelmera, NeteleJala, Damaged Emerald, and gnbrules for taking the time to leave reviews. The unanimous chorus of "Fuck Naomi! Don't listen to her Cas!" was very gratifying. I love it when everything goes according to my evil plan.

And a happy birthday to my amazing beta reader and even more amazing husband AJ. Wine, whiskey, and sexy men: they just get better with age. Am I right? Tell him I'm right. =)

Chapter Thirteen

The irony of it was that Naomi's meddling actually did more to put him off his game than his attraction to Dean ever had. As the night went on, he was distracted, short tempered, and worst of all, clumsy. He dropped a plate, an empty one thankfully, and burned his wrist stirring a sauce a little too vigorously in a futile attempt to alleviate his anger and frustration.

"Shit." He grabbed a towel and swiped at the drop of molten lava that was eating its way through layers of skin. It was far from the worst injury he'd ever gotten on the job, but he wasn't in a glass-half-full kind of mood.

"Cas, you okay?" Dean reached for his hand, trying to assess how much medical attention was required. Normally the concern would have made Castiel's heart do some pretty interesting acrobatics. And it did, but tonight he couldn't enjoy it. He wasn't mad at Dean. If his anger was directed at anyone, it was Naomi. But when Castiel was angry, he tended to revert to his teenage self which was twice as prickly as a cactus.

"I'm fine," he said, snatching his hand away. "Make sure that sauce doesn't scorch." He went over to the sinks to run cold water on the burn. He could feel Dean's eyes following him, still concerned but also a little hurt now, and that made him even angrier at Naomi and at himself. And of course she chose that moment to poke her head into the kitchen and say the very last thing he wanted to hear.

"Castiel, the McLeods —"

"No! Absolutely not!"

There was some laughter hidden under the cacophony of the kitchen.

"Castiel," she tried again in her best I'm-trying-to-be-nice-but-this-isn't-a-request tone.

"I said no! Fire me if you want to, but I am not going out there, and you can't make me."

He slowly became aware that the noise level in the kitchen had dropped by several decibels, and Naomi wasn't the only one looking at him. Okay, that might have been a slight overreaction, not to mention childish.

He carefully avoided looking at Dean as he said with forced calm, "I apologize for shouting, but you really don't want me anywhere near the customers tonight. Especially not the McLeods." He had a hard time being civil to them even when he wasn't a raw bundle of nerves.

"No, I don't think I do," Naomi agreed frigidly. "I'll tell them you're busy."

The kitchen stuttered back to life as she left, everyone skirting warily around Castiel and avoiding his eyes. Everyone except Dean. He marched right up to the chef, took him gently but firmly by the elbow, and steered him towards the fridge. Castiel didn't protest. The cold air was heavenly on his burning face and stinging wrist.

"Okay, what is up with you tonight?" Dean said once they were alone. "Is this about us? Are you freaking out because I said it was serious?"

"No," Castiel said quickly. Then he realized that that wasn't completely true. "Well, not exactly. It's … It's not you. It's Naomi."

Dean frowned in confusion. "Naomi? What does she have to do with it?" And then Castiel could almost hear it click into place. "Oh. Did she … Cas, did she tell you to break up with me?"

"Not in so many words, but that was the gist of it, yes." And because he was becoming well acquainted with the way his boyfriend's mind worked, Castiel didn't even wait for Dean to say anything before he put his arms around the other man and murmured into his neck, "I'm not taking her advice, and I told her as much."

Dean hugged him back, and whether he held on so tightly for Castiel's comfort or his own was anyone's guess. "Did she threaten to fire you?" he asked.

"No. I wish she'd been that direct about it. I know of at least three straight couples among the staff. If she suddenly chose to make an issue of it in our case, I could accuse her of discrimination and that would be the end of it. Which is why she took a more roundabout approach. She tried to convince me that you were going to use me up and break my heart." Hard as he tried to sound dismissive of the whole thing, a faint note of uncertainty crept into Castiel's voice, and Dean heard it.

He pulled back and cupped Castiel's cheek. "Oh, baby," he said softly. "That's not true. Please tell me you know that's not true."

"But I don't." Castiel held Dean tighter, trying to take the sting out of the words. "I know what I want to believe, but I don't know, and I don't want to pressure you into saying it if it's too soon, but … She got inside my head. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. You deserve better. You've never given me any reason to distrust you, and I have no right to ask —"

He probably would have kept on babbling indefinitely, but suddenly Dean's mouth was on his, Dean's tongue was gently coaxing his lips apart, and even if he'd been able to talk and kiss at the same time, he couldn't remember a single thing he'd been about to say. He surrendered himself to it, forgetting Naomi's poisonous words and even her very existence for a few moments.

When Dean released him, they had somehow moved. Castiel was backed up against the shelves with Dean's body pinning him in place, and a laugh burst out of him as he realized he was in the exact position he had fantasized about the first time he found himself alone with Dean in this fridge.

"Well, that cheered you right up," Dean murmured huskily, nuzzling behind Castiel's ear. "What's funny?"

"It's not funny. I'm just … happy. I don't know what I did to deserve you."

"Ha. Pretty sure I'm the lucky one here. And you have every right to ask, Cas. I want you to tell me if there's something you need me to say out loud. I'm not great with words, but for you I'll try."

"Okay," Castiel said, and his breathlessness and racing heart were only partly from the thorough kissing he'd just been given. "So tell me … tell me how you feel about me." He wasn't going to ask for anything more specific than that. The words had to be Dean's own, not spoon fed to him.

"I think you're the most amazing person I've ever met." Dean kept his face buried in Castiel's neck, and Castiel understood the impulse to avoid eye contact in a vulnerable moment, so he didn't try to make him pick up his head. Besides, it was nice to feel the words humming along his skin. "You're funny and gorgeous and nice. Much nicer than people give you credit for. Nicer than you give yourself credit for. You're good to Claire, so patient and respectful of her feelings. And even though you know I have secrets, you never push. No one's ever been this understanding about Sam before. And you are something else in bed."

Castiel chuckled. "I think at least some of the credit for that goes to you."

"Yeah, but we're talking about you right now. You can tell me how awesome I am later."

"Oh, I will. Continue."

Dean finally lifted his head and looked Castiel in the eyes. "Cas, I feel like … like I've been looking for someone just like you for a long time, and I know it's only been a couple weeks, and I don't want to sound clingy, but now that I found you … I don't know if I can ever give you up."

It wasn't the three classic words, but it was much closer than he'd expected Dean to get this soon. "I feel the same," he said. "I think I started falling for you as soon as I met you, and the more I got to know you, the more I wanted to keep you forever. Even if Naomi's motives really are as altruistic as she claims, which I seriously doubt, the fact is that my heart's already a lost cause. Leaving you now would cause me more pain than it would spare me."

~o0o~

Dean had always gotten along pretty well with Naomi, so everyone noticed when he suddenly became cold and distant, barely speaking two words to her when she passed through the kitchen, and that in a clipped tone completely unlike his usual friendly, charming self.

"What the hell happened?" Gabe asked as he grabbed a plate off the pick up counter. "Chef yelling at Naomi is just another Tuesday, but you?"

"Mind your own business," Dean said good naturedly, "and get that to table seven while it's still hot."

After closing while they were walking to Dean's car, Castiel said, "Dean, you really don't have to give Naomi the cold shoulder on my account. Don't get me wrong. It's very sexy seeing you defend my honor, but trust me, you don't want to get on her bad side."

"I'm apparently already on her bad side just for sleeping with you, and I'm not just pissed because she upset you although that's part of it. If she has a problem with our relationship, she should have called us both in and told us she wanted it to stop. It still wouldn't have changed anything, but then we could have at least discussed it like adults. Trying to turn you against me behind my back was fucking sneaky and manipulative, and I really hate being manipulated."

Castiel had never heard Dean sound so angry. He put a calming hand on the other man's arm. "I agree it was underhanded and unprofessional, but Dean, she knows a lot of people in the restaurant world. Powerful people. My reputation is established enough that she can't do it too much damage, but you need to be more careful. She could blackball you."

Dean smiled, one of his warm, completely genuine smiles that he only ever seemed to give Castiel and Claire, and reached out to touch Castiel's cheek. "It's sweet that you're worried about me, babe, but I care about you more than I care about my career."

Castiel stared at Dean in mute shock, unable to think of a single thing to say.