Eliot snorted at the question and made a soft noise of acquiesce. It wasn't like the shirt was salvageable anyway.

The hand brushing against his neck made him whimper lightly and he leaned in closer against Dean's chest. He moaned and sighed lightly.

"You tellin' me you know how to cook?" He whispered in a pained chuckle. He didn't mean to insult the man but Dean just didn't look like the cooking type.