"Sam, Sammy, you're the usual distracted"
Ignoring the nickname, Sam pulled a white handkerchief out of his pocket from his pocket.
His hands trembled and the handkerchief fell to the ground, a curse escaped from the lips of the young priest.
"Wait, I'll do it," said Dean, with a hint of a smile, an amused light in his cold green eyes.
"What do you want to do?" asked Sam sarcastically.
The demon's fingers were strangely warm against his palm; but Sam had always thought they were as cold as a piece of ice.
"Next time be careful," Dean murmured, before taking Sam's injured fingertip to his lips.
Gently, he ran the tip of his tongue over the small edges of the small wound, just where the flesh was most sensitive, taking away a few drops of blood.
A moan escaped Sam.
Unexpected warmth mingled in his stomach, then dropped down to his groin.
"Um, I'd say you're fine"
Dean let go of Sam's hand as he took a step away, trying to put a distance between them.
"Better go first it wouldn't be nice for a demon to be in the rectory," laughed Dean.
Sam looked at him with hatred.
"Don't come back next time"
"Sam look at me," Dean ordered.
Sam reflected himself in those green eyes he had learned to love.
"I'll do anything to get you away," he blew gently Dean, placing a finger under Sam's chin. "Should I turn half the world"
"You won't do it"
The threat fell to nothing.
Sam saw for an instant that he realized he was alone again in the silent rectory.