"Why are you so good at everything?" Charles sighed, licking his lips as Amos pulled the tasting spoon back.

"You're getting pretty good at cooking, yourself."

"Mm... Not like you."

"I've always found it soothing and satisfying, and I've worked in the restaurant business all my life. If I hadn't decided to study economics, maybe I would have decided to become a chef."

After Kit moved out to start his EMT training, Charles and Amos had moved in together, giving up their respective places and finding a comfortable flat with a small outdoor area.

Their kitchen was lit with a warm, cosy glow, clean but comfortably cluttered with herbs, pans, and crockery. It had wooden countertops and terracotta-coloured walls. 

"Did you like math in school?"

"Oh yes."

"I did too." He sighed contentedly against his partner's chest. 

"I didn't mind chemistry either," Amos murmured into his hair. He paused, and nipped at his earlobe playfully. "You're sodium sweet tonight."

Charles huffed a startled laugh. "That's terrible. I love it. But be warned - I've heard them all." He kissed him sweetly. "I'll have to keep my ion you."

"In your element, I suppose."

"Just periodically." Charles giggled softly despite himself - not at the jokes, it was just so rarely he got to see his partner's silly side. He knew it was difficult for Amos sometimes, to drop his reserved facade and show playfulness in everyday life. 

"Do you need to molecule off?"

"Oh - stop it, you! Kit will be here soon and look at the state you've got me in."

Amos hummed, nuzzling him briefly before stepping back. "I suppose I should set the table then."

"Yes - and I need to concentrate and plate these desserts."

Today, Charles had been tasked with making dessert.

In some ways it was more difficult than cooking the starters and mains, and Amos was a far more accomplished chef than he was.

But it reminded the blond a bit of chemistry - the exact measurements, specific steps to follow in a certain order, reactions taking place. Provoking and manipulating those reactions. Elements combining, changing shape, volume, and texture with the addition of heat, air, water.

He had prepared the chocolate mousse yesterday and now he just had to top it off with whipped Chantilly cream, raspberries, salted caramel sauce, and praline. He hummed, lining up the bowls of components and glasses to arrange them in.

"Amos?" he called softly. "Would you taste the caramel? I'm not sure I got the amount of salt quite right..."

A warm, solid presence at his back made him sigh contentedly, leaning back against his chest and holding up a tasting spoon to his lover's lips.

He couldn't help but watch the way Amos's full lips closed around the small spoon, licked the viscous sauce. The sight made him squirm a little.

"Mm," Amos said, leaning down to press a soft kiss to Charles's cheekbone. "I think it's perfect."

His hands were resting on his hips and Charles turned his head to kiss him properly, parting his lips to taste the burnt sugar and butter.

Amos hummed again, surprised and approving, and pressed closer to him.

He dipped a finger into the bowl of whipped cream and brought it to Charles's lips, burying his face in the nape of his neck as the blond opened his mouth around the finger, sucking, licking.

"We should stop, and get back to cooking..." the larger man murmured, kissing his nape, the top of the seventh vertebrae, down past his buttoned shirt collar.

"Or we could...take a break..." Charles panted, pressed against the counter, feeling himself harden in response to the light, tender touches. His knees were growing weak. 

Not looking where he was placing his hands, Charles reached to brace himself on the wood, and promptly caught the edge of a plastic bowl, sending it flying past him - 

Straight onto Amos's chest and neck, right where his apron ended.

"Oh no!" Charles gaped at him - dark face spattered in Chantilly cream and looking thoroughly surprised. "Oh my God - I'm so sorry! Your suit!"

Amos reached up and gingerly wiped the cream off his face with one hand. He chuckled at the look on his partner's face. 

"Honey, I have other suits. But I have to say - you never stop surprising me."

"It was and accide - hmpf!"

And they were kissing again, Amos cupping his face, careful not to ruin his Charles's clothes in return, sweet and sensual and with tones of cream and vanilla. 

He drew back slowly, stroking over the younger man's cheek.

"I'll go change."

"Yes, let me - "

Still feeling a bit flushed and guilty - although Amos clearly didn't blame him - Charles went to the closet to take out a new shirt and jacket for for partner, while Amos wiped off the worst of it in the en suite. 

He had to drag the jacket out from the back of the closet - it was a bit too fine for this occasion, and didn't come out often these days, since they'd settled into a cosy, domestic routine.

Finally he coaxed it loose, and shook it out, turning to lay it out on the bed when - 

Oh fu - 

"Fudge," he whispered. 

Amos appeared in the doorway, shirt damp and unbuttoned, apron gone. He took in Charles's expression, the hand pressed to him mouth, following his gaze to the floor, and the small velvet box that had fallen out onto their bedroom carpet. 

"I had wanted to wait until our three year anniversary," he said, voice measured. 

Running a hand across his scalp - nervous, Charles's brain supplied - he swallowed. Still frozen, still bewildered, the younger man watched him.

"What - is th-that...?"

Smoothly, the taller man slid to the floor in front of him, picking up the box and gazing up at him with liquid dark eyes. The blond felt like he could drown in them.

"Charles..."

There was the slightest tremor in his usually so even voice. It made Charles feel a little bit less like he wasn't the only one about to keel over from shock and emotional turmoil.

He stared at the little box, still not quite comprehending what he was seeing.

Stilling, squaring his shoulders, Amos took his hand gently, looking into his eyes with endless love.

Then he rose to one knee.

"Eep." A small strangled sound escaped Charles's throat. He could only stare, beginning to tremble.

"Charles Callaghan..." Amos's voice was soft and warm, a caress. It wasn't fair what that voice did to him.

"Would you do me the very great honour...of becoming my husband?"

"Eeep..."

"Will you marry me?"

Charles was breathing so quickly he thought he might faint, trembling, looking down at the man on one knee in front of him - in their bedroom, in their home, while they were cooking together. Looking at him so tenderly.

There was only one answer he wanted to give.

"Yes!!!"

Flinging himself into his arms, he toppled them both to the floor. Charles's lips crashed together with Amos's, the taste of sweet cream melting on his tongue.

Kissing him sweetly, the older man laughed onto his lips, warm hands cradling his face. 

"Oh!" Charles gasped, realising. "But we have to hide this from Kit! Tonight is for him!"

"I don't think he'd mind - "

"No, no. Quick - oh! But this is so wonderful, I want to tell him right away - no! No, we have to hide it. Maybe after we celebrate him, we can share the news. Not before. Okay?"

Amos kissed the tip of his nose, still lying flat on his back, Charles on top of him.

"Anything you want, baby."

"Anything?" Charles asked, brushing their noses together, peppering his face with kisses.

"Ask me."

"I want you. Please. Take me apart."

Reaching up to wrap his arms around him, Amos sat up, bringing Charles with him easily, kissing him soundly, coaxing his lips open and drawing a whimper from his throat. 

The younger man spread his thighs, pliant and malleable in his hands, shivering and running his fingers up and down Amos's chest, slipping them in under his open shirt. He felt himself being lifted and his stomach swooped, clinging to his fiancé.

My fiancé...

Dizzying, wonderful thought. 

But Amos wasn't carrying him towards the bed. Charles was thoroughly distracted by the kisses, but it seemed like they were heading back towards the...

"You got dessert all over me," Amos mumbled into their kiss, depositing him gently on top of the kitchen island and pulling back with a glint in his eyes that made the smaller man warm all over. 

"So it's only fair, you understand." 

He felt too hot in his clothes and apron - he needed Amos's skin against his.

"...Please..."

With one arm, he clumsily pushed the many bowls and cutting board of half-chopped praline out of the way.

Charles swallowed thickly as Amos gave him a hold still look, unbuttoning his shirt one button at a time, kissing along his collar bone.

"Ah, mhm..."

One hand on his slim waist, Amos eased Charles's slacks down and off, standing close, so close, heat radiating off of him, undressing the younger man while he still wore his shirt and suit trousers. 

The clothing disparity made Charles throb, and he bit his lip to hold in a moan as Amos pushed the apron the blond was still wearing down to lave over his nipples.

He felt a finger nudge his mouth and opened for it automatically, tasting chocolate mousse.

Then he shivered as he felt more cool, fluffy chocolate spread over his peaked, hard little nipple, and a hot, lascivious tongue licking it off, tasting his skin.

It...tickled, but felt good too, warm and wet, adding glide and making him feel like a feast as Amos licked him clean, sucking a sweetly aching hickey into the smooth skin of his chest before removing the apron and letting it fall to the floor. 

Charles felt even more sensitive after, flushed and writhing.

"Mm...aah..."

He lay back and let himself be ravished.

Amos fed him a fresh, tart berry, his thumb rubbing in circles over Charles's perineum, chocolate mousse on his tongue as he kissed his mouth, licked over his lips, pushed inside, took possession.

Charles gave him everything, gladly, eagerly, falling back on their kitchen counter, a feast for his lover.

"That's it, baby. So good for me..." Amos rumbled, and Charles whimpered in response, spreading his legs wider for him.

He wanted to be good. So, so good for his future husband...

"Oh - ah, aaah...ngh, please..."

Amos kissed down his body, teeth grazing the sensitive spots - the dips beneath his clavicles and where his ribcage ended, underneath his belly-button, the thin skin over his hip-bones...

Charles shuddered, arching into the touch of these sure, full lips, taking him apart with such light touches.

Amos handled him like something delicate, something precious and adored. It was a heady feeling. 

"Lie back, lovely," he commanded, words caressing his skin, and Charles complied without a thought. Obeying his lover felt as easy and natural as water flowing downhill. 

By now, he was so attuned to that timbre in Amos's voice he suspected he might obey it in his sleep.

Now there's a thought...

He settled back against the oiled wood, which was raising goosebumps on his heated skin, but soon warmed to match his body temperature. 

Amos hiked his fiancé's legs over his shoulders but avoided his straining cock, kissing lightly along the juncture of his thigh, down the slim limb to his knee and back up. 

Charles bit back a needy whine, clenching his fists. Trying to control himself. 

Trying not to beg so soon. 

Because Amos would have him begging, he felt sure of it. Not because he didn't give him pleasure...but because he did.

He gave so much.

And Charles didn't deserve it. Receiving more and more, filling him and spilling over, pleasure and love and sensation...until he didn't know whether he was begging to continue or begging to stop.

He already felt so full of happiness, he didn't know what to do with himself... But Amos always brought him back from the brink.

Always held him safely in his arms as he came back down. That's why Charles felt safe enough to let go completely, without fear or restraint.

It felt wonderful, to float away and let the other man take the reins. To be good for him. Charles could ask for anything, and Amos would decide if he wanted to grant it. 

Oh, damn it... Fortitude is overrated. 

"Please..." he whispered. 

Back to begging. 

"Hm? What was that?"

Lips tickled him, the air cool against his hot, flushed cock, undone right here in their kitchen, spread out naked for the world to see, sticky while Amos looked as cool as ever even in his ruined festive clothes. 

Charles couldn't stand another second.

"Please, please, Amos, touch me - Ahn!!"

Instead of giving relief to his aching dick (which Charles had to lock his muscles to keep from touching) Amos spread his thighs up and apart, diving in and licking a long wet stripe over his crease.

"Oh! Ah, hngh..."

Charles bit his knuckles and writhed, briefly glad he had showered before dressing for dinner - and then he couldn't think anything at all, as his mind short-circuited. 

It was just so sinful, dirty, wet. He felt wet all over, dripping. 

Amos licked and sucked, rubbing his fingers over his perineum, then slipping them into him, avoiding his prostate deliberately as he stroked him open, with long, gliding movements. 

He licked over his stretched, taut rim, making a lewd, sloppy noise, and Charles moaned aloud, moving his hips back into his touch.

A firm press on his hipbones encouraged him to wait, be patient. 

"I can't - " he gasped, and that hot pressing tongue withdrew enough for him to whine at the loss.

"You can," Amos reassured him, his words a heady promise. "And then it will feel even better."

"Ah, ngh - "

It was still warm, the caramel sauce drizzled over his pale, heaving stomach. Charles quivered as his fiancé licked and sucked and nipped at him, driving him crazy with want while avoiding his pink, glistening cock, only brushing lightly over the sweet spot deep inside. 

Amos's dark eyes burned into his before he finally licked up his shaft, took him into his mouth, and sucked long and hot.

"Aahhh!!! God!!!"

Charles pushed him back, suddenly frantic to keep from coming. 

"Please, I w-want to taste you too..." 

He wanted him inside, but he wanted him down his throat too. 

Amos pulled back, straightening, and looked down at the trembling mess he'd made of the younger man, spread out over their kitchen island.

"Lie back, then," he said, still touching him, just enough to tease and entice, no more. "Let your head..."

Charles blinked, and his mouth fell open.

Oh. Oh yes...

He scooted back eagerly, but not before dipping one clumsy hand into the bowl of caramel and sending it spilling out over the tiles and dripping onto the floor. 

Charles lay back and let his head and the top of his shoulders dangle down off the edge of the island.

Amos walked around, his big hand stroking along Charles's body, never breaking contact. 

The blond's heart squeezed at that - he needed the comfort, the anchor, shivering with pleasure at the touch. 

Reaching out with both hands, he unbuckled the other man's trousers, and then stroked him with the palm smeared with sticky, sweet burnt-sugary sauce. 

Letting his head loll back, he opened his mouth eagerly, saliva pooling, waiting to be filled. 

It was with a hand steadying under his neck, cupping his jaw, stroking down his chest to graze a nipple that Amos slowly slid into his mouth, his scent filling Charles's nose, the size of him spreading his jaw, then his relaxed throat.

The taste of him musky and sweet and slightly bitter, delicious, even when the angle cut off his air.

Charles didn't panic. He trusted Amos - his partner wouldn't make him go without air for long. He had never pushed for it - but Charles really liked sucking cock, so he'd slowly learnt to disarm the panic response left in him after what had happened before. 

Over time and with help, he'd mostly succeeded. 

So now, all he thought about was how his own erection throbbed at the weight and size of Amos on his tongue, in his mouth.

His wet, stretched hole clenching, anticipating that girth inside him, oh, please, soon...

He whined around the cock down his throat, sliding in and out with a wet noise, and the vibrations made Amos's abs clench and he ran soothing hands up Charles's chest, eventually pulling out of his mouth. 

Charles lay panting, trembling, undone. 

He wanted more.

Charles was staring up at him, adoring, feeling the stretch of his jaw, still tasting the musk of him, Amos's large hand stroking his hair. He felt cherished, adored. Loved.

Suddenly he couldn't wait another moment.

Biting his swollen, spit-slick lips, he gazed up imploringly.

"Will you - hold me, Amos?" he asked. 

A warm, loving gaze met him, Amos stretching out a hand to pull him to his feet, wrap him up in his arms, and kiss him.

Charles sought out desperate, needy kisses, and Amos met him just as eagerly, holding him tight and close, getting remnants of caramel and chocolate mousse all over his shits and trousers.

"Now you really have to change," Charles rasped, and Amos chuckled.

"Don't worry about that. You stay right here, dove."

Angling his head, Charles melted into their embrace, savouring him, their play forgotten now,  giving way to unrestrained affection for a few moments. 

When Amos pulled back and searched his eyes, silently asking whether he wanted to continue, he was ready. He nodded, licking his lips, and shivered as his partner gently but firmly turned him around and bent him over the countertop.

Their fingers entwined on the wood top, one strong arm coming up around Charles, keeping him snug against Amos's chest as he slowly pressed into him, drawing a groan out of the smaller man.

The drag over his rim as he filled him was exquisite, enough to make him close his eyes and push back into the sensation. After the thorough preparation, it didn't hurt at all, despite his partner's size - the only thing he felt was pleasure.

Twisting his head around as far as it would go, Charles sought out a blind, desperate kiss, sighing and moaning into it as Amos pulled out of him just as slowly, filling him perfectly again, while his tongue plundered his mouth. 

Charles could taste his dessert there, and himself, faint but there. It made him shiver with lust, whine and move to meet the other man's thrusts, eager for more.

Bracing his elbows, he felt hot kisses trail over the nape of his neck, his spine and shoulder blades, sweet and loving, possessive and worshipful.

"Beautiful," Amos sighed. "So good for me - so perfect."

"Ah, mmh, please..."

He didn't know what he was begging for, only that it was something only Amos could give him, and he needed it.

The praise made him preen and squirm, warmth inside him growing hotter, the need for relief becoming more pressing. 

"That's it, unravel for me, show me how pretty you are..."

"Ngh, ahh!" 

Charles collapsed forward when Amos changed his angle slightly, now hitting his sweet spot, sending jolts though him, making him see stars. 

His arms around him  were the only thing that kept Charles grounded, pleasure coursing through him, sending him reeling, writhing, moaning and pleading.

"Please, please, Amos, please - " 

"I love you. I'm yours, and you're mine, and you mean so much to me - the world, everything - "

"God, A-Amos - "

"Come for me, my love." 

It was a hoarse whisper in his ear, and it sent desire spiking in Charles, sent him tumbling over the edge. 

"Fuh, ah, I - aaah!!!"

He came in jolts over the gleaming wooden countertop, shuddering and painting it with stripes of white that mixed with spilt cream and mousse, scattered raspberries and smeared caramel. 

Amos followed his fiancé over the edge as the younger man twitched and tightened around him, burying himself deep, his low noise of pleasure mixing with Charles ecstatic cry. 

Running a lazy finger though the mess in front of them, still breathing harshly, he brought it too his lover's lips. Limp and pliant, Charles opened his mouth obediently, suckling the finger until it was clean.

"Beautiful," Amos praised, nuzzling behind his ear as Charles basked in the compliment and afterglow.

"I love you too..." he mumbled, leaning into the soothing touches. 

After easing out of him gently, the taller man gathered him up once more into his chest, nudging him around so that they were face to face and sinking to the floor so he could hold him and check him over. 

Charles sat on his lap, boneless, sated, happy and floating. Amos rocked him in his arms, kissing him, rubbing his sore muscles, telling him again that he loved him. 

"Dessert is ruined..." he observed eventually, with a note of humour in his voice, after the blond had come back to himself. 

"Lucky we still have the cake," Charles sighed, smiling. 

He couldn't bring himself to mourn the state of the kitchen or just how badly he'd failed at plating up dessert - he felt too happy right now, like he was floating on a cloud. Every other thought had fled his mind. 

"My darling." Amos held him tenderly, but suddenly his eyes grew serious. "There is one more thing I wanted to discuss with you, before Kit gets here..."

After talking, they took a shower together and got changed. Amos picked up the rings and brought them out into the kitchen while Charles hurried to clean up the worst mess there. 

Two simple, gleaming gold bands.

"We can choose something else if you - "

Charles kissed him. "They're perfect."

Tenderly, they slid them onto each others' fingers, hands entwining immediately after, staring down at the engagement rings side by side. 

They were still standing there, gazing at each other and holding hands, when the doorbell rang, and Kit burst in, windswept and using his own key as usual.

"Hey guys, sorry I'm late and didn't bring anything, forgot - "

The werewolf's eyebrows shot up, nostrils flaring, and his sentence trailed off as he took in the scene before him.