A/N: Unbeta'd. So, wrote some smutty follow up to the Critic. [/goes into the corner of shame] Merry Christmas, guys.
So it turned out that all of Cas' fancy titles weren't just for show. One of the many perks of... whatever they were (and they had decided they were something at least) was definitely the food and post-coital meals were a treat. They hadn't started anything immediately, of course. Dean, having loved the sex but never being the type to stick around for the aftermath, had left it at a one night stand and told him to call if he was ever back in town. He'd fixed the restaurants reputation, gotten laid, and hey if the guy wanted a round two? Hell yeah. Though, he hadn't been that serious when he'd told Castiel to hit him up; figured the guy would always be too busy to come back to their little corner of the world. To Dean's great surprise he actually had been the first person Cas called when he'd visited. He'd been suspicious as hell until Cas told him that a few hours away there was a new place being opened that wanted to sell some of his recipes. Some associate rather and advisers of his had told him it'd be a good idea. So Cas had found himself back in town for a little. The idea with his recipes for the restaurant had taken off so well that a little had turned into a few months.
Almost a year of hotel hook ups and a few private romantic dates, that had left Dean's knees quivering, later; they'd settled on something. Well, Castiel had settled. He'd found himself a condo a few hours away from Dean's apartment. Though that didn't mean they spent more time together. Cas still had critiques to write, check up on his old restaurants to make sure no one had burnt them to the ground, and do continuous work at the new place he was slowly getting more and more involved with. The guy was a little protective over his food. But, when they did spend time together, Dean ate well, and not just because the guy had some type of major magic mojo when it came to he hadn't been able to convince Cas to cook for them, at Cas' or his place, sometimes he would convince him to use a bit of his status to swing Dean into some of the nicer places for free food on his critic rounds. A little immoral, probably, but Dean was more than enthusiastic in pushing that tid bit out of Cas' mind.
There was a small downside, of course. Dean should've known that when Castiel Novak brings a man along a few times to dinner tongues start to wag. It wasn't long before there was a picture of them in the papers. Dean had been a nervous wreck about it at first, and if he was gonna be honest with himself kind of a cranky dickwad too. He and Cas had even argued the night he went to talk to his family. Cas didn't much like being tucked away and Dean should've known what he was getting into. Being with Cas meant the public eye and being other people's business. Kind of par for the course for dating someone famous. (Though in his own defense Dean hadn't realized quite how famous. The guy was a critic and a cook, how famous could he even be?) Dean hadn't wanted any of that to fall down on his family. They, or maybe just him if you asked around, had always been private as fuck. Hell, what they would even think about him being with Castiel Novak, celebrity status chef. They'd liked him well enough but that didn't mean squat.
It'd been pretty fucking dumb to worry though. Dean's family had cut the picture out and placed it in their own Restaurant on the wall of family and friend photos. While Dean had fought against it and voiced his displeasure whenever he could, he was secretly a little happy after he'd chilled out a bit. They weren't officially dating, neither of them had pushed for a more concrete answer, but it was nice to have proof of their relationship somewhere outside of his own damn head. Dean still stayed away from articles on principle. Though at Castiel's request through his publishers included very little of Dean since the freak out over the dinner photos. He'd never cared when they were just fuckin' around, and they hadn't even been a... thing for very long, so Dean was content for the moment not to dig around in Cas' life and look up anything else, and he trusted Cas to keep him out of the papers. (Yeah, he'd flip through a few magazines on a whim but he wasn't paranoid about it.)
Things were pretty good the way they were.
Castiel laughed, breath coming out in slow pants, and flung his arm across Dean's stomach. He rucked the sheet a little higher on his hips and nudged his head underneath Dean's chin. "You're always hungry."
Dean turned in the sheets and nuzzled his nose into Cas' hair. "I burned off a lot of calories. A man's gotta keep up his energy."
"A lot of calories, huh?"
Dean grinned and slid down the bed a little so that he could press his lips against Cas'. "Pounding you into the mattress takes a lot of energy."
"Then why am I the one out of breath?" Castiel asked, smirking.
"Come on, chef." Dean sat up as Castiel slid off of him and flopped completely down onto the bed with a groan. "Don't run out of that fiery passion now."
Dean thought about it for a moment before shrugging his shoulders. "All right. " He swung his feet out of the bed and dropped them to the floor. He dug around for his boxers and shimmied into them; then turned around to see Castiel staring at him with wide eyes. He cocked his eyebrow in a silent question.
"Yeah? What, you not want it anymore?"
"No no, of course I do." Cas smiled and curled his arms around one of the ridiculously large pillows he had in bed. "It's just, you've never cooked for me before."
Dean flushed feeling self conscious. "It won't be anything five star or some shit, or any of that fancy good cook-"
"Go. My kitchen is yours to command. Thank you."
Dean didn't need to be told twice. It was nice to be able to do something for the guy. He'd come home stressed to all hell. Some DB named Balthazar, who Cas assured him was a friend, was being a major pain in the ass and someone in one of his restaurants had been filching money. It was a headache and a half and the cold weather didn't put Dean's... whatever he was in any better of a mood. At the very least angry, frustrated sex kept them warm. His feet felt chilled once he stepped onto the granite that covered the kitchen floor. He'd been in Cas' kitchen often enough to know where things were at least as he carefully stepped to the cupboards. Everything was stainless steel set to a black marble or black stained oak. If it weren't for the rather ridiculously colored oven mitts everywhere and colorful, fish, salt and pepper shakers the kitchen would've felt sterile and lifeless. All of his silverware was mismatched too. Dean had asked him about it once and Cas had simply told him that somehow half of the sets he bought ended up migrating somewhere else.
"Communing with the kitchen?"
Dean turned around and felt his heart stutter a little. Cas hadn't bothered to get dressed. He was leaning against the door frame, arms crossed. Dean's eyes traveled up his well muscled legs, pausing briefly to stare at Cas' soft cock, nestled against strong thighs. Cas chuckled and Dean forced his eyes up to Cas' face. There was a knowing smirk on his lips.
"Hippie." Dean huffed and finally walked over to the fridge. He pulled out a pound of ground beef and let it sit on the counter. He moved around the kitchen, gathering eggs, pepper, salt, onion, and other small ingredients. It wasn't until he'd started mixing the ingredients together, hands sticky with meat, that his shoulder's tensed. "You know it's really awkward with you hovering over me."
Castiel laughed a little and Dean heard the soft press of his feet as he padded into the kitchen. His breath caught in his throat as Cas leaned against the line of his back, arms coming up to cradle him. Slender fingers ran from Dean's biceps down his arms. Cas' index finger dipped and gently rubbed against his wrist, stroking along his pulse.
"I'm trying to cook."
"You're doing a good job so far."
Dean swallowed and tried to stop his fingers from trembling as he formed the meat into patties. He managed to reach over and rub oil into the bottom of a pan. Before Cas had started to disturb him he'd sliced up a few onions and laid them down before sliding the first burger patty onto the pan. There was only the sound of sizzling to fill the silence. Dean shivered and nudged his ass against Cas trying to get him off. "Dude, you're breathing on my neck. Stop it."
"You've never minded before," Cas said and then rested his mouth against the curve of Dean's shoulder.
"I'm pretty sure I've never been handling a hot stove."
"I have faith in you," Castiel mumbled before letting his hands slide down Dean's ribs.
"Cas," Dean whined.
"Pay attention to the stove, Dean," Cas chastised. His fingers trailed lower, running across Dean's abdomen. He paused briefly at his belly button before trailing his hand underneath the rim of Dean's boxers. He dipped his hand underneath the elastic and rubbed his finger tips along the skin there. His fingers ghosted over the coarse hair across Dean's groin before he gripped Dean's cock lightly.
"Cas!" Dean's arms swung out so that he could brace himself on the counter. He ground forward into the warm heat of Cas' palm and bit his lip. "Cooking!"
"Faith, Dean. Faith."
Dean made a desperate grab for a spatula and flipped the burger patty around as Castiel moved his hand up his shaft. His fingers brushed over the soft head, thumb gliding across the slit, before Cas curled his palm around Dean's cock again and squeezed as he brought his hand back down. Dean groaned and leaned further against the counter. He didn't get very far as Cas' other hand snuck around to his hip to pull him back.
"Dean. The burger is going to burn."
"Fuck! Damn it," Dean cursed as he hastily slid the cooked meat onto a plate and fumbled to lay another one into the pan. Castiel chuckled and Dean cursed. "You think this is funny, don't you?"
"Not at all, Dean, I promise." Castiel moved around Dean, scooting him away from the stove enough so that Cas's back was facing the counter and Dean against him.
"What are you doing? I can't cook like this."
"You'll see. Keep an eye on the prize."
Castiel sank to his knees, keeping his eyes locked on Dean's. His hands spread along Dean's stomach and then gripped at the edges of his boxers and pulled them down. Before he could even catch his breath or sense the coldness of the kitchen, Cas' mouth was on him. His knees spread open, sliding around Dean's leg so that the man could inch back closer to the stove. "Sa-safety hazard," Dean groaned, even as he thrust forward.
His eyes danced between Castiel's slowly bobbing head and the hot stove. He suddenly appreciated Castiel a lot more. He should've figured out what was going to be happening the second that he'd wrapped himself around Dean. Not even a month ago Dean had done the exact same thing to him, although they'd both been more fully clothed at the time.
Dean tilted his head back a little and glanced down. He swallowed down the spit gathering in his mouth as he stared at Castiel's cock, thick heard, and heavy between his legs. Cas hummed and Dean's eyes jumped back to his. Cas' eyes held the suggestion of a smirk in them as he knelt lower, spreading his legs and moving the hand that had been at Dean's hip down. Castiel gripped the length of himself in his palm, stroking steadily, and moaned with Dean's cock in his mouth.
"Fuck, Cas. We can't-" a small smell of burning interrupted him. He leaned forward to flip the patty, hoping it had just crisped a little. The movement drove him further into Cas' hot, wet mouth. He felt his muscles clench up as he steadied himself, trying not to pay attention to the feeling of Cas swallowing around him. With trembling hands he managed to flip the burger over. It hadn't been completely ruined.
Castiel pulled back, but kept his lips wrapped around the soft, plump head of Dean's cock. He gently mouthed at it before sweeping his tongue across. He dipped the tip of his tongue at Dean's slit, collecting pre-come and lapping it into his mouth. Dean groaned and gripped the edge of the counter-top tighter as Cas stopped teasing. Dean felt as Castiel relaxed his throat and swallowed him down until the other man's nose brushed against the hair at his groin.
He barely managed to save the burger, throwing it onto the plate and snapping the stove off as his legs clenched. "Cas- stop or-!"
Castiel pulled off and back, resting his lips against the tip of Dean's cock and pumped his shaft. "Come on, Dean."
The husky rumble of Cas' voice, especially when it was Dean's name coming from spit and precome soaked lips, always did it for him. His body trembled as Cas milked his orgasm out of him, those soft, red lips becoming coated with white, large droplets slipping down his chin, a few sliding down his neck and falling to the floor at his feet. As Dean trembled above him Castiel's tongue snaked out and he swept what he could up into his mouth.
"Dean," Castiel whispered as he closed his eyes, leaning his forehead to the man's belly, and rubbed his thumb underneath the head of his own cock. It didn't take long before that pristine marble floor was covered in come.
"You need a shower," Dean whispered, out of breath, eyes fixated on the mess they'd made.
Castiel rose from the floor, body still twitching with gentle spasms, as he slid up Dean's body. Dean kissed him without thinking twice, ignoring his own salty taste across Cas' mouth. "Finish cooking, Dean."
"Yes, sir," Dean mumbled as Castiel made his way back to the bedroom.
As Dean watched Cas' ass and the way his muscles moved underneath his skin as he walked, he couldn't help but grin. He turned back to the burger patties and took an experimental bite. His knees buckled as he tilted his head back. The guy really did get the best quality ingredients, even Dean hadn't been able to screw it up. His head turned back towards the bedroom as he heard the shower start.
Yeah, there were definitely some perks to being a something with a famous cook and critic.
Disclaimer- * Kitchen sex is a very dangerous and acrobatic event. Being naked around sizzling burning things can be a very bad idea.