Chapter 10

Henry was silently cursing himself as he was told that the cook - that is, the stand-in cook, as the proper one was sick, had done something to the food that had made it inedible. This would be his tenth dinner with Dean, and the hunter was slowly warming up to him. It had taken a while, but they were speaking without barriers. Dean seemed unable to decide if he should lean into, or flinch away from his touch, whenever they came in contact.

But their dinners were the only thing Henry had, right now, and he was not certain that Dean would stay... He could serve him something else, but due to whatever was making him ill, he was incredibly particular. The young hunter apologies tirelessly for his fuzzy stomach, but the king would not have it. His moth had told him that to win a woman, you have to show her you can provide for her, keep her a kept woman. To win a man, you have to show him you can provide for him; feed him. His mother had probably meant politically, but surely it could be applied.

"Hi..."

Henry turned towards the sound of that honey smooth voice. Dean stood there in the sunlight in a tanned shirt and trousers. The colours complimented his golden hair and sun-kissed skin , making all of him shine. It made him stop in his tracks.

"Did I come at a bad time?" Dean asked, shifting under the kings heavy look.

"No-" Henry stopped his own shout "I mean, no, you haven't," he said and went to greet him with a hung. He kept it light, and brief, not wanting to overstep the boundaries he'd worked patiently and tirelessly on pushing.

"You seemed surprised," Dean said as they parted. It never failed to surprise him when the king initiated such an intimate contact- more than a casual touch.

"No, I..." Henry swallowed, "I was merely... stunned by..." he paused, " your beauty which shines especially strongly today " he said, his voice soft, captivated by the green eyes of the blond boy in his arms.

Dean stared at him, his lips parted in surprise and his cheeks flushed at the king's words.

The king seemed to return to reality, "I was told something... other the other went wrong with the food... so our dinner will be delayed."

"Why don't we just head down there," Dean asked, still sounding a touch breathless.

Henry frowned; he had never been to the kitchens. "Very well..." he replied hesitantly. "What do you suggest we do there?"

"Just say hello," said Dean, "I haven't seen Martin in a while."

"Would that be the Chef?" Henry wondered.

"Yup," Dean said, rolling back and forth on his heels..

"He's home, ill," Henry said, "Someone else is making the food."

"Let's go say hello anyhow," Dean decided, "We'll get our food quicker," he gave a compelling smile. Not to mention the less formal environment would put him more at ease.

"As you wish," Henry said "Please do show the way," he said and made a deep, theatrical bow.

Dean laughed and did indeed show the way.

Everything stopped as the king entered the kitchen. Most of the people there never ventured out in the parts of the castle that was reserved for the administration of the country. The king glanced around in his usual kingly fashion. Dean sighed as the king's facade slammed back up faster than a nun's thighs shut. Henry made a quick motion with his hand, and everyone snapped back to work.

"Dean!"

Dean was jumped by a flurry of dark hair and gold skin. "Elena," he laughed, "Good to see you."

"Where have you bee?" She asked excitedly, and kissed both his cheeks, "Martin will be delighted," she gushed.

"I heard he was ill...?"

"Not ill," Elena said, "Injured," she said, "He is still here bossing us all around. Though Daniel has been given some grief for ruining the kings dinner. I'm sure his majesty will be rightly furious at being made to wait hungry"

"I'm sure I can survive a while longer," Henry said with a quirked smile.

Elena looked over Dean's shoulder and gasped. "Your Majesty," she bowed, "I'm sorry -" Dean stepped back, looking a bit awkward.

The king noticed Dean's sudden withdrawal from the conversation and immediately put a smile on his face, "No need," he said, "I promise I'm much easier to deal with than that of my reputation." He sat down on a stool and swayed his legs much like a child would, appearing relaxed and at ease. It seemed to be the right move as the staff around him moved about their tasks more fluently.

"Dean-" a booming voice sounded through the kitchen, "How are things and how have you been?" Dean got pulled into a one-armed hug- the other in a sling, by a bear of a man. "Hm," The Chef said and he inspected the blond, "I cannot quite decide if you have lost weight, gained some, if you are sick or glowing with health," he said, then he frowned, "You should take better care of yourself boy. Worry less about that sasquatch of a brother of yours."

"I do eat well," Dean protested, "I have dinner with the king twice a week-"

"I can only vouch for the food he actualy eats at my table," Henry piped up, "No more and no less. You have five other dinners I am certain you do not eat quite as well."

Dean flushed and shuffled his feet, "I live in a house of four men, none of who are inclined to cook," he said, "Of course I wont eat quite as well-"

"You majesty," Martin nodded to the king, "Due to some lad's incompetence your dinner will be delayed. If you do not mind, I will give young Dean a cookery lesson while we're at it."

Henry smiled mischevisouly and shrugged, "Do as you please with him."

Dean scowled, "Martin, I think Henry would like a cookery lesson as well. Lord knows he would starve without you."

~*~...

As it turned out, Dean, who was used to handling knives and doing detailed work, fared rather well. Surprisingly, as did the king. That is, they fared well apart. Together, they served as a hopeless distraction.

Henry revelled in Dean's relaxed and joyous demeanour as he were in familiar surrounding. While he preferred to do his, eh, seduction, at the lack of a better word, in private, he worked well with what he got. He knew he was being painfully obvious to his staff, and he risked some serious humiliation if Dean rejected him, but it seemed to be successful so far.

Dean's cheeks were a lovely pink as he stood next to the king, trying very hard to ignore the radiating heat penetrating though his clothes as their shoulder's brushed. He felt much more secure in himself as they were now surrounded by Dean's freinds and previous co-workers rather than soldiers, servants and politicians. The king has seemed to notice his lack of apprehension as well as he'd become very flirtasious. He hoped he had not noticed he way his body reacted to his light, too lingering to be causal touches. But he probably had.

"Do you think the king is aware of how obvious he is being?" Elena asked quietly.

"Do you think Dean is aware of how obvious he is being?" Martin grumbled back. "This is not an idea which will have fortunate repercussions," he said, "Not much to do about the king, but we can speak some sense into the boy," he said and headed over. "Not bad," he said as he looked things over, "Perhaps you shold consider becoming a cook, if kingship should ever bore you, your majesty."

Henry snorted, "I'm afraid your compliment is undeserved," he said, "I have been much too absent minded..." Dean's blush flared up again,

"The servants will prepare the food, now you go out and enjoy the sun," he said.

Dean nodded and led the king out towards the lawn. As they passed through the door, a heavy and warm hand rested at the small of his back. Dean paused, looking at the king, who face was barely an inch from him. Brown eyes flickered between the wide green orbs and those plush pink lips. Dean could not tear his eyes from Henry as they stood in the doorway. The king's body was radiating heat, and Dean could not help but seek the warmth. He could even feel his shaky breath on his face.

"Your majesty -" Elena's voice made them spring apart. "Dean, your dinner is ready. Where would you like to dine?"

"On the lawn," the king said, his voice roug. He cleared his throat, "On the lawn will be fine, thank you." He could feel the heat rising in his face and was grateful when Dean dissappeared out the door, allowing him to do the same.

~*~...

"I cannot believe I just cooked the first meal of my life," Henry said, "It was both easier and harder than I thought it could be."

"What do you mean?" Dean asked, not quite understanding what he meant.

"Well, it was easier to make than I though, but it was harder to make perfectly than I thought as well."

"Why don't you invite your brother and uncle for dinner after mass on Sunday," Henry suggested. He paused and thought for a moment, "And your father, if he has returned."

"He is due to be back this evening," Dean said thoughtfully, "I will pass on your invite. I'm sure Sammy will be delighted to meet the king," he said with a smile.

"And Dean," The king winked, "Make sure to invite them to dinner with Henry, not the king. I want to make a good impression."

Dean just grinned.

~*~..