A/N: Sam is back, Dean has opened the box and the mission is almost done. A few relationship wrinkles to iron out first...


The Pompatus Box (Chapter 29: Negotiations) by frostygossamer


Dean has finally gotten his good luck, Sam, back where he belongs and they are on board Baby heading for Eno. Campobello is a mere smudge in the rearview mirror. As soon as they clear Terran space Dean is able to relax. He joins Sam, who is lounging on the couch in the library after helping himself to a bottle of whiskey and a couple glasses. He pours them both a tot when Dean takes a seat on the other end of the couch.

"Up your kilt!" It's a traditional Campobellan toast.

Sam is sitting on the couch, knees spread, in the traditional Campobello kilt-wearer's pose, relaxed if somewhat immodest.

"Backatcha!" responds Dean.

They both knock back their shots in one. Dean puts down his glass.

"The course is set and I'm not going anyplace without you, man. Had a long time to think, Sam, and you were right. I could use back-up, someone to watch my six, someone I can trust. Never had anyone I could totally trust before. Never thought I needed anyone, but I do. Someone handy with a blade, also good."

Sam grins at him. "Pretty handy with a pistol too. First in my company at officers' training."

"Doesn't hurt that you know how to handle yourself, military college boy."

Dean is enthusiastic enough but it still seems to Sam that he is backgrounding the relationship issue. He's going to have to push if he wants Dean to cave to his will. He sets his empty glass beside Dean's.

"So now you're offering me what? A situation? That all?"

Dean thinks about his answer for a moment. He's about to commit himself to something here and he's not easy with it yet.

"Guess I'm offering you a spot, sure. We, uh, we actually DO make a great team, you and me."

That is a surprising offer from Dean. A team? What happened to the inveterate one-man band? Sam reckons he has undermined the guy's resolution some with his awesome 'personality'. He sits up straighter and fakes careful consideration.

"I'm not exactly opposed to the idea, Dean. But, before we kiss on it, I got conditions."

Dean ignores the kiss part, for once, and narrows his gaze. "Conditions? Like what?"

He wasn't expecting Sam to be the one with reservations. Sam closes the space between them until they are mere inches apart.

"One. I get to choose the music once in a while."

He rests his right hand on Dean's knee and slips his left behind Dean's neck, moving his face in close.

"Two. I get to navigate now and again."

He leans closer until his lips brush against Dean's. Dean holds his breath waiting on Sam's three.

"And, three. On occasion I get to top."

Dean inhales sharply at the image of Sam letting Dean have his way with him for once, a fantasy he occasionally found himself entertaining while the big galoot was out of his life. Sam grabs his chance to crush his mouth against his captain's lips. Dean finds himself without power or inclination to resist and melts into Sam's kiss. It's a first.

When eventually they pull apart, their arms have somehow gotten wrapped around each other tight.

Dean glances down and whistles. "Whew, Sammy. Uh, sure. Guess I can live with your conditions."

Sam gives Dean his best puppy-eyes, stands up and backs away toward Dean's cabin. Dean watches him disappear inside. After a second, Dean hurries to catch him up.

They have a few hours before they make Eno. May as well make them count.

=O=

Sam is no stranger to Dean's bed. Though Dean has always made like he was some unpleasant chore he would rather not be stuck with, Sam believes it's an attitude Dean deliberately struck. The guy wanted to discourage Sam from thinking there was anything personal between them. But Sam knows Dean is no sex doll. There's a heart in there someplace.

Dean finds him kneeling on the bed barefoot, having already discarded his shoes and knee socks.

"C'mere, Dean. Lemme make you feel good. Know how to make you tingle."

Dean is wearing nondescript military fatigues, the easier to blend in Earthside. Slipping out of them is a matter of unsnapping a few snaps and pulling a long zipper. Sam's outfit is a little more tricky. Campobellan dress uniforms have way too many hooks, loops and buttons. Dean's fingers fumble over them.

"You expected your new bride to find her way through this tangle without breaking a nail?"

"The girl's been waiting to marry me since we were eight. I'd guess she's had plenty time to study the manual."

Sam spares half a second to wonder about Amelia and what will happen to her now she's been left at the altar. He hopes she too will find someone with the power to make all her private fantasies come true.

Dean finally undoes the last fastener of Sam's tunic and pulls it off over his shoulders, dropping it to the floor, then he goes for his waistband. He's taking too long, so Sam tackles him and throws him on the bed laughing, his cute dimples making him look like a big goofy kid.

"Your man-stripping skills need some work, Dean."

"Dude, ask me to unhook a bra one-handed, then yeah."

Kneeling above him, Sam unties the ribbon restraining his long hair and it cascades forward, skimming his broad shoulders. He pulls his undershirt off over his head with a flourish, baring a well-defined chest. Then he proceeds to unbuckle his belt and throw aside his sporran. Unwrapping his snow-white kilt from around his hips, he holds it out to the sides like a pair of swan wings. Dean is shocked to see he's not wearing a thing under his kilt.

"Running late this morning, dude? Forgot your tighty whiteys?"

Sam laughs, wicked and sexy, shaking his hair around him like a stallion's mane.

"It's the traditional Campobellan way. Nothing goes under the kilt but a cheeky grin. Every truehearted Campobellan in the abbey today was going commando."

With that slightly disturbing image in mind, Dean notices that Sam's family jewels seem a good deal bigger than he remembered.

"You been taking penile enlargement pills too, huh? Looks like little Sammy's a real BIG boy now."

As a matter of fact, looking up at it from the mattress, Sam's equipment seems to have achieved unnerving proportions.

"Been doing some weight training. Builds up the muscle. Thought I may as well give Amelia a treat. Something to remember her wedding night for other than the ceremonial bullcrap. YOU lucked out."

Sam discards the kilt someplace on the floor. His huge and stiffly erect member, a good three inches longer and thicker than when Dean last saw it, has been decorated with a jaunty plaid ribbon looped around its base. The ribbon bears a small silver badge with a crest in it. It piques Dean's curiosity.

"What's with the insignia? Win a prize with that monster cucumber?"

Sam looks down at it and smiles proudly.

"War cry of the Campobello clan. Loosely translated, 'Do not be deterred by the size of my manhood. It'll easily fit in you both ways when you become my sex slave.'"

Dean suspects that is a VERY loose translation. "Very tasteful."

Sam wriggles his hips, waving his appendage under Dean's nose invitingly.

"You wanna unwrap me now, lover?"

Dean's hand hesitates over the ribbon for a second. He could untie the bow right away, or... He slides his hand up over Sam's abdomen instead.

"Not yet, Sammy. Let's see how long it'll take before I have you begging me to let you loose."

Sam likes the way Dean is getting into the game. He leans forward and bites his left earlobe, his thick shaft pressing rigid into the curve of Dean's groin. A drop of his passion oozes out to dribble down the pale flesh of Dean's thigh.

"Oh, so that's the way you wanna play it, huh?"

He reaches down between them and gives Dean's manhood a little squeeze in his big fist. Dean's eyes pop slightly and his mouth opens a little. Sam takes the opportunity to lay a kiss on those pink lips, probing with a questing tongue. Dean hums softly and allows him to deepen the kiss, for a full minute.

Dean clears his throat. "I do this all the time. With women," he volunteers.

Sam chuckles. "Way to make a guy feel special, lover."

He starts to carefully place little nips and kisses inward from the ball of Dean's shoulder. It's interfering a lot with Dean's thought processes.

"I mean, uh, I mean... with women, uh, women all the time. Not guys."

Sam stops nibbling Dean's neck and leans back to search Dean's face.

"You need to let go the straight thing, Dean. Can we both agree it's kinda off topic here?"

Dean huffs. "I was gonna say, not guys by choice. But, yeah. I, uh, I'da done pretty much anything for credits one time. So, uh, I do kinda have, uh, skills."

Sam knows Dean got through some rough times, early in his life, and his past is something he's going to want to hear about eventually. For now, the big guy simply maintains sympathetic eye contact with Dean until he starts to grin.

Then Sam asks, mock-innocently, "Were you any good?"

Dean smirks proudly. "Got me my down payment for Baby."

He has already rationalized that part of his past. Sam's not going to rake it up. Actually, he's kind of impressed. He bites his lower lip naughtily and growls.

"OK, teacher. I'm here to learn."

The lesson takes them all night.

TBC


A/N: Stay tuned for the a little more on this theme, coming up shortly.