Bluffing Acknowledged - A Companion Piece to Bluffing their way to Ecstasy

[dladyg]

John stretched his body as far as it would go, his arms extended over his head with fingers laced through the cast-iron swirls at the top of the headboard and his bare toes hung off the end of the bed pointing for all they were worth to the morning light streaming through the window.  He stretched until the last nagging knot in his back finally let go before giving in to the jaw cracking yawn he had been holding back. His loose muscles melted into the mattress as he lazily raised a hand to scratch his hairy chest and stomach, before scratching further south. The gentle summer breeze still had a chilly morning bite to it that felt good on his naked skin, playing through the black, wiry hair covering most of his body. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt this good or been this relaxed. For the first time in a very long time, John had no burning desire to do anything more than what he was doing at this moment. This must be what a true vacation felt like, he mused as his southbound scratching found something more interesting and turned to lazy stroking.

"Damn, Winchester. Are you trying to kill me?" Bobby stopped just inside the doorway of his bedroom taking in the sight of his on again, off again lover splayed out on his bed like an all you can eat buffet just waiting for someone hungry enough to take him on.

John turned his lazy grin toward Bobby and unleashed the deadly dimples in full force. "What's the matter, old man, too much for you? You got something better to do today than try to break this bed again?

Bobby remembered when they had actually managed to break the bed. Sammy had broken his first bone while John had been on a hunt. Dean had been forced to take care of himself and his brother. He had gotten Sammy  through x-ray and getting his arm casted before escaping the hospital staff who were beginning to question the story the babysitter of little Sammy had spun. Both boys had been exhausted by the time John had gotten back. John had gotten scared of what could have happened, and packed up and lit out for a safe haven.  The boys had been securely tucked into bed on the other side of Bobby's house and were out cold for the night. But John had a lot of fear and aggression to work through. Bobby felt lucky that the bed was the only casualty. Fun night though. "That bed ain't breaking again, no matter how hard you try. When I welded it back together last time, I reinforced it with angle iron from the chassis of a half ton International pickup. Now put that toy away and get out of bed. You're screwing up my schedule."

"You calling this a toy? I ought to drag you back into this bed and prove to you that your used angle iron is no match for this 'toy', old man." John was at his least intimidating as he lay there in all of his very relaxed naked glory.

But he was at his most endearing and Bobby knew he had to make his escape quick or risk the embarrassment of getting caught naked and smelling of messy, just fucked goodness when his 10:30 appointment arrived. Delbert was supposed to drop off his old Pontiac for Bobby to take a look at.  Working on that old car might be a good distraction for John, take his mind off getting revenge on his boys for a while. At least it would be more productive than John's idea of distraction.

"I'm gonna make you eat those words later, John. But right now, I got customers coming." Bobby looked down at the full coffee cup he was holding like he had just noticed it was there in his hand.  He held up the mug so John could get a good look at it. "Your coffee's ready. "

"Oh yeah, coffee." John grinned as he sat up and reached for the mug of caffeine Bobby held just out of his reach.
"Get dressed. It'll be downstairs waiting for you."  Bobby then turned and carried the coffee right back out the door and down to the kitchen. Damn fool can fetch his own coffee, teasing an old man like that when he's got work to do.  Bobby knew his strengths and his limitations. He knew that if he had gotten within touching distance of that infuriating man, he'd have been crawling right back into that bed, fuck his customers and their leaky Pontiacs.

"Damn it Bobby!" John got up and started searching for his clothes. He knew he had underwear on last night, now where did they get off to. "It's not right to tease a man with his coffee. That's just inhuman, man!" John had found his underwear, now where was that other sock? "Oh the hell with it, I need coffee." John shoved his feet into his jeans and hit an obstruction in one leg. He had found his missing sock. John stomped downstairs five minutes later to a lukewarm mug of coffee cooling on the kitchen table. Bobby was at the stove stirring what looked like scrambled eggs with ham chunks and cheese mixed in.

John grabbed his coffee cup on his way to the coffee pot. He knew better than to waste caffeine in Bobby's kitchen, so it was best to chug half the cup quick to make room for a hot refill to warm the rest. "I hate cold coffee."
"Serves you right, tempting me like that."  Bobby grabbed a couple plates and handed them back to John for the table. "This is ready, unless you want toast."

John took the plates, but instead of moving away to the table, he moved up behind Bobby, spooning in close and hanging his head over Bobby's shoulder. "You know you just undid all the good you did last night making me jump out of bed so fast. I'm all tense again."

Bobby carefully put the spatula down and turned off the eggs. He braced himself on the stove and pushed back against John. "That was my master plan, baby. Now we get to undo all those tight muscles all over again."  Bobby reached around and grabbed John's ass, pulling him in closer. "But I know something you hate more than cold coffee, and they're getting cold right now. You want a quickie at the stove or do you want to eat hot food?"

"I'm gonna buy you a microwave, then we can have both."  John grabbed a quilted pot holder and wrapped it around the cast iron handle of the skillet. He lifted the skillet over Bobby's head and turned to the table, plates still in the other hand. "Eggs smell good, Bobby. And if we skip the toast, maybe we can still have time for a quickie before that customer gets here."

Bobby turned a twinkling eye to his lover. He remembered a time not too long ago when he'd have been recooking eggs while watching John try to find a comfortable spot on the hard kitchen chairs after an offer like that. But getting older wasn't so bad, sure saved on the food budget.  "If you're lucky, and what would I do with a microwave? Pop popcorn for movie night?"

"Reheat my coffee any time I want so we can stay in the bedroom longer, reheat the eggs so I can bend you over the stove, and pop popcorn for movie night while I take you on the couch." John was in a rare good mood this morning.

"I think you got the who's bending who mixed up there, partner."

"It has been a while since we turned the tables." John flashed his most wicked, conniving smile. "I think you're about due." He waggled his eyebrows at Bobby before sliding more eggs between those ripe lips.

People said Dean got his sexy lips from Mary, but Bobby knew what was hiding under John's facial hair. Those lips were made for sex. It was a good thing he kept them covered up.  Bobby adjusted himself before turning to his own eggs. "We'll see who's due what later."  His thoughts turned to Sam and Dean. He wondered, not for the first time, who pitched and who caught in that relationship. He also wondered if they ever occasionally liked to switch hit like their father. Sam came across as a mouthy bottom most of the time, but then Dean had that same vibe of a man in charge of everything else in his life with a need to let go, a need to let someone else take control, like John did.

"You got quiet there, Bob." John stirred his eggs as he contemplated his partner. "You know I like the way we usually do things. I'd never want to make you feel like you had to bottom if you didn't want to, don't you?"

"Course I do, ya idgit. I wasn't even thinking about that."

"Then what were you thinking about?"

Bobby's hand stilled as he looked up at John. He was truly relaxed now, not like he was when he arrived yesterday afternoon ranting about his boys. Bobby didn't want to open a can of worms best left closed, but he did wonder what John's plans were concerning his sons.  "I was thinking about the boys."

John took his last bite of eggs and tossed his fork onto his empty plate. "Yeah, I've been thinking about them too." Grabbing his coffee cup, he leaned back in his chair. "I want to thank you for talking me down yesterday." John smirked as he remembered Bobby's special technique he used just for that. "Among other things."

"So you're not going after them for revenge?"

"Oh, I'm still planning that. But it has to be good, real good. I'm not mad at them anymore for being together, though.  You helped me with that."

"Well go on, don't stop there." Bobby tossed his own fork down for his coffee mug.

John chuckled at Bobby's impatience to get to the compliment. "Thank you for helping me see that those boys are lucky to have found someone to share this crazy, fucked up life with. Who else would understand the pressure? Where else are they gonna find someone who would put up with them disappearing for weeks at a time to go off on a hunt? Hell, how many times did you come after me with a shotgun, and you know more about hunting than I do?"

Bobby chuckled, "Not as often as you deserved, that's for sure. What about the incest? That was a big problem last night, as I recall."

"Yeah, well, to tell you the truth, I doubt they'd stop on my say so anyway. And as much as I hate to admit it, they are adults. It's not like they can get each other pregnant, so I guess they aren't hurting anybody. It goes against everything I was taught to believe, but how many laws have I broken over the years?"

"How many laws have you taught the boys to break?"

"I guess that's true too. I can blame them all I want, but I'm to blame too. I raised them to look to each other for everything. I just didn't see this part of it coming."

The dog barking in the yard interrupted any other confession John may have come up with. "That your customer?"

Bobby crossed to the living room window. "Looks like a piece of shit Pontiac just started up the drive. That must be Delbert."

"He a hunter?" John pulled the shotgun from its resting place in the corner of the room.

"Naw, just a towny who don't know nothing about cars. He's bought a couple cheap, brought them to me to fix up, then takes them over to Chicago and unloads them for a lot more than they would fetch around here. We split the profits. It's a good side business." He glanced back at John, "Put the gun back and come on out and meet him. But don't scare him, he's just a kid."

"Let me run upstairs and get my Sigma 9 mil." John was halfway up the stairs before Bobby could yell at him.

"John, you don't need your gun."

"I wanted to show it to you anyway, I just got it. It's a semi-automatic, double action that holds 16 rounds. The grip's gotta be changed out, but take a look at that two toned beauty." John was back and holding his prize for Bobby to see.

"Very nice,” Bobby paused long enough to appreciate a fine piece of craftsmanship, "now put your toy back in your pants and come meet Delbert. I want you to help me with this Pontiac while you’re here."

Delbert skidded to a halt in a cloud of dust just as the two seasoned hunters stepped out on the front porch.

John watched an extremely young fresh-faced boy hop out of the driver's side of an old blue Pontiac Firebird. "Sorry about the dust, the breaks are slipping a little."  Delbert approached John without trepidation. John was startled to realize this hadn't happened in a long time. Most people crossed the street instead of risking the chance of getting too close. "Nothing Bobby here can't fix. Hi, I'm Del. You must be Bobby's friend. Nice to meet you." Delbert stuck out his hand to shake and John just stared at the hand, then at Del. Did they still make them this naive?

John eased his hand out, "Nice to meet you too, Del."

Bobby let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "Delbert, what is this piece of shit? Haven't I told you, if you want to make money off a Pontiac, you have to look for the letters GTO? Firebirds are a dime a dozen."

"But Bobby, look at her. She's just begging somebody to make her shine. And I heard Firebirds aren't as plentiful as they were ten years ago. People are snapping them up as fun cars the older they get."

"The cars or the people?"

"Huh?" Del swung back around to John.

"Never mind. I like your car just fine. I'm sure you'll get top dollar for her in Chicago once she's fixed up."  John was walking around the car, checking the quarter panels for irregular seams indicating a past wreck, and for rust bubbles under the paint. "Pop the hood."

Del grinned and leaped to do John's bidding. "You know cars too? Damn it, Bobby, am I the only one who wouldn't know what to look at if someone said pop the hood?"

"Yep. John here used to own his own shop." Bobby stopped to admire this particularly fetching view of John as he leaned over the engine to get a closer look.

"She's leaking oil and coolant. Probably the head gaskets. She'll need new brakes, hoses, belts, and definitely a new battery. I'm surprised you got this one to turn over as corroded as it is. Probably need a new set of rings as well." Del looked over John's shoulder as he disconnected a belt and gave a rod a spin that was sticking out of a round do-hicky on the side. "Alternator's about gone too." John reconnected the belt. "Start her up Del, let's see what else rattles loose."

After unobtrusively handing off a screwdriver, Bobby stood back and watched the show with a satisfied grin on his face. He hadn't seen the relaxed car guy side of John in a very long time. Too long. "John, looks like you got yourself a project for your vacation."

John was busy adjusting the timing belt and listening to the engine speak to him. "What? Vacation? Old man, you know I got my own work to do, and this ain't it." John gestured to the car with the screwdriver that seemed to have magically appeared in his hand.

"And we also talked about you taking a break from your work, and you agreed. Now, John Winchester's not going back on his word is he?"

"Yeah, I remember that conversation. I don't think engine oil is what I offered to get under my fingernails though." John watched to see if he could get Bobby to blush in front of the kid. "Besides, I have that other little matter to work on for my own boys."

Bobby stared at his boots as he rocked back and forth in place. When he could safely look up again, John was back under the engine, giving him sidelong smirks from under the hood. "That matter with your boys may take some planning. I think you've got time for this little blue gal here. And Delbert needs a ride back into town."

John watched in amazement as Bobby went back inside the house after he dismissed them both like school children set to their tasks. He turned to Del. "Where do you live, kid?" He patted his pockets to make sure he still had his keys and wallet from the wild jeans toss last night in Bobby's bedroom. "Shut her off. We'll take my truck."

They were headed to John's truck when Del stopped and ran back to the Firebird. "Oh wait, I forgot something!" He dug around in the back seat of the car until he came up with a dark grey plastic bag. Del ran back to John's truck and slammed into the passenger side like a half-grown puppy. Or like Sam used to, catching up to Dean.

"You got everything?" John smiled indulgently as he started the truck without waiting for an answer.

"I almost forgot my books. You got kids? I heard you say something about your boys back there to Bobby. I'm gonna have a kid, well, Maybelline is. That's why I got the books. There's this store in the mall that has all kinds of books on having a baby, what to name it, and what to do with it once it's here. I got books on everything on account of this will be our first and Maybelline don't know what to do either. How many boys you got?"

John did a double take at the diatribe spilling forth in waterfall fashion. "How old are you, kid?"

"Nineteen, Maybelline’s twenty. Got me an older woman. She's got skills. She peed on a stick last week and it came back with a great big old plus on it. Maybelline didn't believe the first one, so I had to go buy her another test. She peed on that one too and it said the word, "positive" right there in the little window. So I guess it's a done deal. She said something about being cursed, but I don't think that's what done it. My momma used to say the lady at the butcher shop had the evil eye and cursed her pot roasts, that's why Momma burned them. Every one. I didn't even know pot roast wasn't supposed to be burnt until Maybelline cooked one. And let me tell you, never tell a woman her pot roast would taste better burnt. For some reason, she didn't get the connection to Momma's cooking. Just the thought of the look in her eye still makes me shudder to this very day. I was afraid to go to sleep that night. Hey! That's the look, right there, the same look that's in your eye right now. How'd you know what Maybelline looked like? You two met? She's a friendly girl, talks to everyone. About a month ago, Maybelline showed  the neighbor our new bedroom ceiling fan on account of he was thinking about buying himself one and wanted to see if he could reach the top to clean it. I startled them both so bad when I came in the front door that they both fell down on the bed at the same time. That's where they were when I got back to the bedroom, on the bed together trying to catch their breath from the fright I gave them. Maybelline’s real anxious that I sell the Firebird for a lot of money. I was gonna keep it, to tell the truth. It's sort of my dream car. I was gonna learn from Bobby on this one and keep it forever. But Maybelline’s right, it ain't practical for babies. So off it goes to Chicago next week, if you can do it in a week. Are you as fast as Bobby?"

John looked sideways at the kid in his passenger seat. "You know, Bobby might be right about not getting much for the car. It needs a lot of parts that are going to cut in on your profit. I think your original idea would be the better deal; make it a project car for you to learn on. Once you know some of the mechanics, you can do more of the work yourself and keep more of the profits on the next car you fix up to sell."

"No, Maybelline made me promise to sell the car. She said babies are expensive. She said we gotta get furniture for it and everything. And it's gonna have its own doctor and hospital bills the day it's born. Maybelline said we can't do it like my momma done with me. She won't go in for a midwife at home. She said the baby's gotta have a legal birth certificate with my name on it right under hers and everything. Maybelline’s big on legal stuff."

John pondered Maybelline for a moment as he got directions to Delbert's trailer. "Del, how much are you gonna ask for the car in Chicago?"

"Bout $5000 if we can fix her up good and have enough left over to paint her too."

"I didn't want to say anything before, but those leaks may be from a cracked engine block, and a new engine costs about $3500. That's not even looking at the transmission; that could cost $2500 by itself. Then there are the brakes and all the other parts that car's going to need. You're over a $1000 in the hole and we haven't even started work on her yet. Tell you what I'll do. I'll give you $500 for her right now and this coming week, you come on out to Bobby's and I'll teach you what I can about cars. We'll even work on the Firebird just for practice. And take that money in to Maybelline and tell her that's all you got for the car. Maybe you can go shopping for a crib or something. I'll ask Bobby not to part out the Firebird if he can help it and one day, it could still be your dream car. It'll be at Bobby's for you to work on when you can. I gotta feeling your time's gonna free up real soon, kid. You can pay me back on the next car you flip, but you'll have money for a crib now. Cribs are real important to women."

"John, are you sure? I mean, $500's a lot of money. I guess I could tell Maybelline that the car is really still mine after I pay you back."

John peeled off five one-hundred dollar bills and handed them to Del. "Listen Del, you tell Maybelline that car is gone, you sold it, and that's all you got for it. End of story. That car is mine now. All that other stuff I said is only if Bobby is willing to sit on parts he could be selling from the Firebird.  Don't be lying to your girl now and getting her hopes up for no reason. You have to protect her in her condition. You give her the money. And Del, come see me and Bobby tomorrow, no matter what happens tonight. You're a good kid, and you got friends. "

"Umm, thanks John. Maybelline will be real happy to get a little money now for baby stuff and all.  I'll see you tomorrow. And thanks."

"Good luck, kid." John pulled away from Del and Maybelline’s trailer. He snorted as he thought of the story he had to share with Bobby when he got home. And wasn't that idea a kick in the teeth. He never expected he'd ever be able to claim either a partner to share stuff with or a place he felt comfortable enough in to call home. And Bobby had been right there all this time to provide both and he'd been too blind to see it. Looked like Del wasn't the only one that was blind.

As John drove back to Bobby's, another scenario began to take form. He still had to come up with something for his boys. Even if Bobby had helped him come to terms with his feelings about his sons' relationship, they still had to be reminded who was top dog in the scamming department, after all. John snorted as he turned into Bobby's driveway. Who'd have thought Del the idiot would have so much to teach a Winchester. John had a lot to talk over with Bobby. Plans had to be made; scenario's had to be run for gaps. This was going to be epic.