Shout outs to gnbrules, podothedruid, Dizzybunny, Vikinglady47, impala67chevy, and destielA03 for taking the time to leave reviews, and thank you to everyone who is still reading this despite my completely unreliable update schedule. I promise this story has not been and will not be abandoned.

Warning: This chapter contains explicit sex. Oh, and if men wearing lace lingerie isn't your thing, turn back now.

Happy reading. Please leave me a review if you liked it. =)

Chapter Twenty-Two

He could tell by the angle and color of the light filtering through the blinds that it was earlier than he usually liked to wake up, but he certainly wasn't going to complain about what had woken him. Namely, the exquisite wet heat of Dean's mouth wrapped around his cock.

"Dean," he groaned, his hands coming up to tangle in the other man's hair, holding him still as Castiel started rocking his hips in shallow, gentle thrusts. Dean's eyes flicked up to meet his, and Castiel read the permission in his gaze. He pushed a little deeper the next time, reveling in the feeling Dean's throat relaxing and opening up for him. Dean's eyelids fluttered, his eyes rolling up in his head as he moaned with unabashed pleasure. That was it for Castiel, and he came embarrassingly fast and hard, unable to even think of letting out a warning.

Unprepared, Dean gagged a little, and trickles of white escaped his lips to slide down Castiel's cock. Dean chased them with his tongue, lapping them up like they were the last drops of his favorite dessert. The erotic sight wrung another weak twitch from Castiel, and a final spurt landed on Dean's cheek.

"Come here," Castiel said hoarsely, and when Dean crawled up the bed so they were face to face, he leaned up and licked his own come off Dean's stubble. Dean laughed and turned his head to help Castiel get it all.

Castiel wormed his hand between their bodies to stroke the very hard cock he could feel pressing into his hip. The idea that Dean was this turned on just from letting Castiel fuck his mouth was… intoxicating. It made Castiel feel sexy and powerful, desired and loved. "God, Dean. You're absolutely perfect for me," he breathed and captured the other man's lips in a searing, tongue-tangling kiss before Dean could argue.

It only took a dozen or so strokes before Dean was gasping and groaning into Castiel's mouth as he came too, which made Castiel feel better about his own quick orgasm.

"Happy Valentine's Day, baby," Dean said when he remembered how to speak.

Castiel laughed and held him close, heedless of the sticky mess sandwiched between them. "Happy Valentine's Day." The lingering post-orgasm high gave him the courage to add, "Hopefully, the first of many we'll celebrate together."

"Mmm. I like the sound of that," Dean agreed, nestling his head in the curve of Castiel's neck and shoulder with a contented sigh as though he intended to stay there all day.

Castiel wished he could. He would like nothing more than to spend their first Valentine's Day together right here in their bed, cuddling and talking and making love until they were both too exhausted to go again, but work and parenthood called, so eventually they cleaned up and got dressed.

Watching Dean take clothes from his drawer in Castiel's dresser almost made up for the fact that he was covering up all that gorgeous, golden, freckled skin. Castiel really wanted to just ask him to officially move in already, but it was probably too soon for that. He knew Dean was enjoying sharing an apartment with Sam after eight years separated by prison bars, so he had offered up space in his closet instead which Dean had happily accepted.

He tore his eyes away from the play of muscles in Dean's back as the man pulled a shirt over his head and forced himself to pay attention to his own clothes before he put his pants on inside out again. "You have the directions to Claire's school, right?"

"They're saved in my phone. I'll get her there on time. Promise."

"It's not that I don't trust you. I do," Castiel hurried to reassure him. "I just—"

"It's okay, Cas." Dean crossed the room and cradled Castiel's face between his hands, smiling fondly. "You don't have to explain. You're a parent. Worrying is in the job description, but I got this. You go cook for the staff meeting. Claire and I will be just fine."

He planted a kiss on Castiel's forehead, and Castiel leaned into his chest, allowing himself one more moment of selfish indulgence.

"So what are you making?" Dean asked as they reluctantly separated.

Castiel smiled mischievously. "It's a surprise."

~o0o~

One of the advantages of dating a coworker was that even when they both had to work, they could still spend the day together. For their first Valentine's Day though, Castiel wasn't content with just working in the same kitchen as Dean like every other day, he wanted to find a way to make it special, memorable. When he realized that February fourteenth was a Friday this year, he knew exactly what he could do. Fortunately, Naomi didn't ask why he wanted to cook for the staff meeting when it wasn't his turn, nor did she ask what he was planning to make.

It always felt a little odd working in the restaurant kitchen without the controlled chaos in the clattering, clanging, and shouting of business hours around him, but once he started rolling out the dough he'd made the day before, slowly coaxing each stiff lump into an elastic circle, he settled into a kind of zen mind space and forgot everything else. Soon he had six pie crusts ready to go.

Before he started on the filling, he checked his phone which had dinged while his hands were floured. Dean had sent him a picture of Claire standing on the steps of the school and smiling sweetly at the camera, followed by the words, Safe and sound.

Castiel's heart swelled with love, and he texted back, Thank you ?.

Almost immediately his phone dinged with Dean's reply, a single kissy face emoji. ?

He laughed but resisted the urge to continue trading emojis with his boyfriend to see who could be more sickeningly affectionate. Instead he quickly saved the picture of Claire before tucking the phone back in his pocket and returning to his pies.

In his small kitchen at home, he would have had to bake the pies in batches of two, which would take hours, but with access to multiple industrial ovens he could do them all at the same time. Before long he had six beautiful pies lined up on the cooling rack, curls of steam wafting from the heart shaped holes cut in their perfectly golden top crusts. He was just stepping back to admire his handiwork when a rough voice behind him said, "Oh, Cas, you didn't."

Castiel spun around, and there was Dean, still in his coat and scarf, nose and cheeks pink with cold, and an expression of utter shock and disbelief on his face. For a moment, Castiel's confidence faltered. "You… you said you liked pie."

"Yeah. Once. In passing. Months ago. Way back before we even started dating. You remembered that?"

Castiel shyly looked up at Dean. "I might have also asked Sam about your favorite foods. Are you upset or happy? Because it's very hard for me to tell right now."

Dean closed the gap between them in two quick strides and pulled Castiel into his arms. "Happy," he murmured, his cold nose pressing into Castiel's cheek. "So fucking happy. This is the most romantic thing anyone's ever done for me."

Castiel's heart broke a little hearing that, and he resolved to do many more romantic things for Dean and show him that none of his previous boyfriends had appreciated him at all, much less as he deserved to be appreciated. For now he contented himself with wrapping his arms around the other man and whispering in his ear, "Happy Valentine's Day, sweetheart. I love you so much."

~o0o~

Naomi raised an eyebrow when she saw the pies lined up in the middle of the long table that had been set for the staff meeting. "Dessert for lunch, Castiel?"

Castiel bit back the sharp retort that was on the tip of his tongue and instead said pleasantly, "Actually, these are meat pies. There are two each of chicken, beef, and venison. Which would you like to try first?"

Naomi looked momentarily off-balance which gave Castiel a petty, childish satisfaction, but she recovered herself quickly and said, "Ah. Well, in that case, I'll try the chicken."

To Naomi's obvious surprise and suspicion, Castiel cut and served the pie to her himself before dishing out a slice onto his own plate. As he took his seat beside Dean, Castiel could still feel her eyes on him, but apparently she wasn't suspicious enough to not eat the pie.

Her eyes widened as she chewed her first bite. "This is delicious, Castiel. Is that rosemary I can taste?"

Castiel beamed. "Yes. Cut fresh this morning from my own rosemary plant at home. It was a gift from Dean." He squeezed Dean's hand.

Dean blushed.

Naomi's expression soured a little at this revelation, but she managed to sound almost sincere when she said, "Then thank you, Dean, for your contribution to this lovely meal."

Dean acknowledged the thanks with a nod, then turned his attention to his own slice of venison pie. "Fuck, Cas, this is amazing," he moaned around a mouthful, and though similar happily noised compliments were now coming from all around the table as everyone dug in, Castiel had eyes and ears only for Dean.

Dean's tongue darted out to lick a flake of pastry from his lower lip, and Castiel was viscerally reminded of the way that tongue had licked up Castiel's come with equal enjoyment earlier that morning. God, what he wouldn't give to be sitting in Dean's lap right now, feeding him pie and kissing him between each bite.

But that definitely wouldn't be appropriate behavior for a staff meeting, so Castiel mentally shook his head and did his best to ignore his half-hard dick and pay attention to Naomi who was now going over the business of the day.

"… so this week the lemon sole will be offered with a side of steamed potatoes instead. The McLeods have reserved the private dining room for their twentieth wedding anniversary. They'll be hosting a party of twenty people, themselves included, and they would like to arrange a time to go over the menu with you, Castiel. When would be convenient?"

Castiel's fork clattered loudly on his plate. On the bright side, that had taken care of his semi more efficiently than a cold shower ever could. "They what?"

"They would like to go over the menu for the party with you," Naomi repeated blandly as though she didn't know perfectly well that the problem wasn't his hearing. "When is a convenient time for you?"

When hell freezes over, was what Castiel wanted to say. When pigs fly. Half past never. But he was a professional, and unlike letting customers fawn over him when he should be in the kitchen, this actually was part of his job, so he said, "Tell them Monday morning at eleven," and then, because he knew the McLeods and he knew Naomi, he added firmly, "and tell them that I will meet with them here. This is non-negotiable."

"Should I be at this meeting?" Dean asked, directing the question to Castiel.

"I don't think that's necessary," Naomi started to say, but Castiel spoke over her.

"Yes, actually. I would value your input." He looked at Naomi, silently daring her to make an issue of it.

She held up her hands, conceding the decision to him. "Very well. If you think it's necessary. Gabe, you'll draw up a list of who will wait on the private party and have it on my desk by Tuesday night."

They moved on to other business, but Castiel's mood had soured. He no longer had any appetite for the pie he had labored over, so he slid the rest of his slice onto Dean's plate with a slightly forced smile.

Dean gave him a worried look.

Later, Castiel mouthed. This was something they should discuss in private, not with Naomi glaring at them like an irate schoolteacher who has caught her students whispering in class.

Dean nodded and squeezed Castiel's leg under the table, his hand a reassuring touch more than a sensual one.

With Dean's warm, solid, grounding presence beside him, Castiel managed to get through the rest of the meeting without arguing with Naomi. The pies were a definite success, and by the time the meeting wound down all six pans held nothing but crumbs. Dean had put away three pieces himself, one of each kind of course, plus the rest of Castiel's piece.

As soon as the business portion of the meeting was concluded, Naomi excused herself, stating that she had an appointment to get to. Everyone else lingered around the table to chat, and the mood became decidedly more relaxed once Naomi had driven off.

"Damn, that was good," Dean said, stretching luxuriously and tilting the chair back slightly. "I think I'm gonna have to keep you, Cas."

"Is that so?" Castiel chuckled. His eyes flickered down to the strip of exposed skin where Dean's shirt had ridden up. His freckled belly was definitely a little more prominent than usual, and Castiel longed to push his face into that softness, kiss over the warm flesh and revel in the fact that he was the reason Dean was happy and well fed. He had never had a feeder kink before, but when it came to Dean, nothing surprised him anymo—

His brain stuttered to a stop as he caught a flash of something red and… lacey under the waistband of Dean's jeans right before the other man leaned forward, hiding the tantalizing glimpse from view.

"Oh, yeah," Dean said with a smirk, leaning in close to Castiel and lowering his voice. "A man who can bake a good pie and rock my world in the sack? I'd have to be a born idiot to let you get away… What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

Castiel had no idea what his face looked like right now, but he knew Dean well enough to know that he'd better set his boyfriend's mind at ease about the reception of his little surprise as quickly as possible. He licked his dry lips and leaned even closer, his lips brushing the shell of Dean's ear before whispering, "Dean Winchester, are you wearing red panties? Red... lace," Dean's breath hitched as Castiel's tongue flicked his ear on the l, "panties?"

Dean tensed and glanced nervously down the table as though someone might have overheard, but everyone else was absorbed in their own conversations, most of them bemoaning the fact that they had to work on Valentine's Day. "Shit," Dean whispered, his eyes darting back to Castiel and a flush rising to color his cheeks. "You weren't, uh… you weren't supposed to see them yet. It was gonna be a surprise for after work."

Castiel raised an eyebrow. "You were going to wear them all night without telling me?"

"Didn't want you to be distracted, chef." The cocky smirk was back in full force.

"Well, I'd say that ship has sailed." Castiel reached under the table and dipped two fingers into Dean's waistband until he could feel the rough texture of the lace, a beautiful contrast to Dean's smooth skin. "Will you show me now?"

Dean's eyes widened. "Here?"

"No, obviously not here. In the bathroom?"

"Oh."

"You don't have to if you're not comfortable."

"No. I, um… I want to. You want to go first and I'll follow in a couple minutes or…"

Castiel snorted. "This isn't high school, Dean. I don't think we need to bother with all that. We wouldn't fool anyone anyway." He stood up, grabbed Dean's hand, and practically dragged him — not that Dean resisted at all — back towards the kitchen. Some laughter and a wolf whistle (probably Gabe) followed them, but Castiel didn't even look back.

The staff washroom was a fairly well insulated single occupancy room in the back of the building, so as soon as Castiel flipped the lock, they had total privacy. He pushed Dean against the door and kissed him, hard and hungry, while fumbling blindly with the other man's belt. Dean's mouth tasted like buttery pastry and rosemary, the very same rosemary he had given Castiel instead of flowers on their first date.

Dean was clearly on board with the pace Castiel was setting. Castiel could feel how hard he was already, but once he succeeded in getting the belt unbuckled, Castiel decided to slow things down. He wanted to savor this next part. After all, when you're presented with a rare delicacy to taste for the first time, you don't just wolf it down, no matter how hungry you are. You roll it around on your tongue, try to identify each flavor, and imprint the moment in your memory with as much detail as you can.

He sank to his knees on the hard tile floor and looked up at Dean, his hands hovering over the other man's fly, waiting for Dean's nod of permission before popping the button and torturously slowly dragging down the zipper. Dean's lust-dark eyes were fixed on Castiel's face as Castiel eased the jeans down off his hips to completely reveal the beautiful panties.

They were made for a man. Even with Dean almost fully hard, they cradled his cock and balls comfortably. The cut of them was deliberately designed to not just accommodate, but to complement and accentuate the shape and size of an erection. Whoever had designed them was a true artist who knew how to balance functionality and beauty without sacrificing either.

"Oh, Dean," Castiel murmured, pressing a tender kiss to his lover's stomach right above the red lace. "You're gorgeous. How did I get so lucky?"

Dean laughed. "Pretty sure I'm the lucky one in this relationship."

"Then you must not have looked in a mirror when you put these on."

"I didn't actually."

Castiel looked up in surprise.

Dean shrugged. "I was afraid I'd look ridiculous and chicken out."

"You've never done this before," Castiel breathed.

It wasn't a question, but Dean shook his head anyway. "I was always kind of curious about it, but I felt silly trying it by myself, and I never had anyone I…"

He didn't finish the thought, but Castiel didn't need him to. He knew exactly what Dean was trying to say. He'd never had a partner he trusted like he trusted Castiel, someone he was willing to make himself this vulnerable for because he knew they would never laugh at him or make him ashamed.

"You're saying," Castiel swallowed hard, "that I'm the only man, the only person, who has ever had the privilege of seeing you like this?"

Dean nodded.

Castiel buried his face in Dean's stomach with a groan. "Christ, Dean, do you have any idea how hot that is?"

Dean gave a shaky laugh and threaded his fingers through Castiel's hair. "There's that possessive streak again, Cas."

He squeaked in surprise as Castiel bit him sharply on the hip, and Castiel felt the lace beneath his cheek twitch as Dean's cock jumped. "You love it," he purred smugly and gently soothed the bite with his tongue.

"Yeah," Dean agreed breathlessly. "Fuck, do that again."

Castiel was happy to oblige, sucking three impressive hickeys onto Dean's left hip before moving over to give the other side the same treatment. Dean's fingers curled tighter in Castiel's hair, tugging and scratching at his scalp, and Castiel had to palm his own neglected cock through his pants. The bathroom echoed with moaned curses and praise, and anyone passing the door would surely hear Dean's litany of, "Fuck, Cas. Yeah, just like that. Fuck, I love you," but Castiel didn't care if the whole world heard. Hell, he'd shout it from the rooftops. Dean Winchester loves me. Dean Winchester says I'm the best he's ever had.

There was a cleverly concealed slit in the front that Castiel could pull Dean's cock through without having to take the panties off. Castiel was seriously considering tracking down the designer and sending them a thank you card, and perhaps a nice fruit basket. Dean's head hit the door with a thunk as Castiel swallowed him down to the root, the tip of his nose brushing lace. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, Cas, fuck, Cas." Those seemed to be the only two words in Dean's vocabulary at the moment.

Castiel's knees were starting to hurt, but the pain was distant and mostly drowned out by overwhelming pleasure and powerful need. He fumbled his own cock out of his pants and began absently stroking it while he continued bobbing up and down on Dean's, but coordinating the two while also trying to keep Dean's hips still with one hand proved too complicated. He pulled off and looked up at Dean. "Fuck my mouth," he commanded hoarsely.

Dean didn't need to be told twice. He wound his other hand into Castiel's hair as well and slid back between his parted lips with a strangled groan. Yes, that was much better. Castiel knelt there, his head tipped back to make a straight line from his mouth to his throat, and let Dean take his pleasure. His own hand flying up and down his painfully hard cock was almost an afterthought. He reached his other hand around to Dean's ass and pressed a finger up between his cheeks, rubbing the lace against his entrance.

Dean cried out and his cock swelled a little more, stretching Castiel's lips and filling his mouth with pulses of warm, salty come. Castiel swallowed it all as his own orgasm surged through him and he spilled on the floor between Dean's feet.

Dean slumped back against the door when it was over, his glassy-eyed expression pure bliss as he gazed down at Castiel. His trembling hands continued to pet gently through Castiel's hair. Castiel tucked Dean's softening cock back into the panties and pulled up his jeans for him, then fixed his own clothes. When he tried to stand up, he groaned, and not with ecstasy this time. Dean chuckled and took his hands to help him to his feet.

"Thank you," Castiel said, then coughed as the sound grated in his abused throat. Fuck, he was gonna be sore all night, but it was so worth it. Grabbing a paper towel from the dispenser, he quickly wiped up the mess on the floor and tossed it in the trash before stepping into Dean's arms for a post-coital cuddle. "I'm well past the age when I could spend a long time on my knees without consequences."

"You still look damn good down there though," Dean teased, cupping his jaw and pulling him in for a kiss. He moaned when he tasted himself in Castiel's mouth just as Castiel had that morning. "So I guess I should keep the panties," he said when they came up for air. Castiel was delighted to see that Dean was grinning, the vulnerable look from before had been completely swept away.

"Definitely. Maybe buy a few more in different colors. A nice emerald green to bring out your eyes perhaps."

"I'll show you the website," Dean laughed. "You can pick out which ones you think would look good on me."

"Mmm. Okay."

They made out lazily against the door for a few more minutes, and Castiel noticed that though the kisses were far from chaste, Dean was being deliberately gentle on Castiel's swollen lips, never using teeth or too much pressure.

"Cas, can I ask you something?" Dean said the next time they took a breather.

"Mmmhmm," Castiel mumbled, laying his head on Dean's shoulder and closing his eyes as post-orgasm drowsiness began to creep up on him.

"What's the deal with the McLeods? I mean, I gather that you really don't like them, but you've never explained why. Do they complain a lot?"

"No, it's quite the opposite. They love everything I make. They've offered me a job as their personal chef multiple times."

He could hear Dean's confused frown when the man said, "So why—"

"I just don't like them. They're creepy and flirty, constantly touching me, and coming on to me. If the way they act in public is any indication, I really don't ever want to be alone with them."

He felt Dean tense a little in his arms. "That's why you wanted the meeting to be here and to have me there."

"Yes."

Dean was quiet for a moment, his hand moving soothingly up and down Castiel's spine. Finally he said, "Cas, what you're describing… You realize it sounds like sexual harassment."

"Except they've never crossed any legal boundaries that would allow me to make a case, and even if they did, I highly doubt Naomi would take my side. They're her most loyal and lucrative customers, after all."

"Because of you by the sound of it. Hell, your food is the main reason anyone comes to her snooty, overpriced restaurant. If she doesn't think your safety is worth losing a couple of asshole customers over, then believe me, there are dozens of restaurants in this city that would jump at the chance to hire the Castiel Novak to run their kitchen, and they would treat you a hell of a lot better than she does."

About halfway through this little speech, Castiel had lifted his head to look at Dean, and he was immediately mesmerized by the fire in those green eyes. When Dean had finished making his point, Castiel kissed him softly on the lips. "I love you," he murmured, "and I promise that if the McLeods or anyone else ever cross a line, I won't let Naomi bully me into letting it slide. I will tell you before I even bothered discussing it with her, and we will decide how to handle it together."

Dean looked mollified, but his arms were still wrapped tightly around Castiel's waist, and he was radiating protectiveness. "I just hate the thought of anyone making you uncomfortable," he said quietly, pressing their foreheads together, "even if it's within legal boundaries."

God, I don't deserve this man, Castiel thought as he kissed Dean again, but I'm keeping him anyway. As long as I can get away with it. As long as I possibly can.