#sinifer

Stepping around the room, Lucifer moved to stand behind Sam's chair. He leaned over the young man's shoulder, lips ghosting across his ear. “Now, Sammy, I hope you'll understand why I have to do this,” he murmured, fighting the urge to drag his tongue over the edges of his captive's skin. “You have to learn that you're not to be passed around like a whore.” The words were sweet, flowing from the Devil's mouth with a patience and grace that he was quickly tiring of using. No one seemed to understand how much restraint this took, how much mental strain went into dealing with Sam Winchester. For all that he loved about the beautiful creature tied to the chair before him, Lucifer acknowledged that Sam could be a trying little shit when he wanted to.

“If you touch him, Lucifer, so help me!”

Now, unfortunately, was one of those times.

Yanking back from the chair, Lucifer slowly stalked his way back to the bed, keeping his eyes on Sam. “This is your punishment, Sam!” he yelled, pointing a finger in his vessel's face. “You get to sit here, and you get to watch what happens to him.” He swung his arm to the side, until he was pointing at the unconscious form of Kevin Tran. “He needs to learn the same thing that you do.” Lucifer found himself close to seething, the thought that someone – this lowly, worthless human – had touched his Sammy. Yes, it was time that he began.

The Prophet was spread across the bed, limbs loose, right where Lucifer had left him. Sam was still shouting obscenities in his direction, but he brushed them aside. If anything, the words were beginning to spur him on, adding a little dose of heat to his desire for retribution. Oh, and this would be scorching.

“Kevin...” he cooed, softly, pulling one knee up onto the edge of the mattress. “Kevin... Are you awake, yet, Baby?” Lucifer heard Sam's breath hitch, and he fought back a wicked grin. Two birds with one stone. “Come on, Kev, wake up.” Leaning over, Lucifer pressed his lips to the exposed side of the Prophet's neck.

“You son of a bitch!” Sam roared, twisting wildly. “Kevin! Kevin, wake up! Ke-”

Lucifer growled, deep in his throat, launching himself back across the room. His fingers clenched and released, but he never took the swing. Despite how wonderful it would feel, he kept it to himself. Instead, he grabbed the first serviceable piece of clothing he could find (it looked like a hand-woven scarf, but Lucifer wasn't in the mood for details), and wrapped it around Sam's big mouth.

“Now, shut the hell up, and enjoy this!” he hissed, tying an extra knot in the fabric, before moving back to his... much smaller captive.

The Prophet was just stirring as Lucifer crawled back onto the bed, hovering over him as dark eyes blinking slowly up at... Well, for all intents and purposes...

“Hey, Sam...” he murmured, words still a bit slurred from sleep. A warm, tired smile slipped over his lips. “Guess I... took a nap, huh?”

Lucifer let loose a wide grin, tilting his face into the hand that came up to cup his cheek. This was coming together so perfectly. “Yes, you did,” he agreed, lips finding the Prophet's palm. Delicate fingers slid through brown hair, to which Lucifer closed his eyes. How interesting it was that such a small action could feel so pleasant.

Well, what the hell was he thinking? If it wasn't for teaching Sam a lesson, this human wouldn't have been allowed to come close to laying a hand on him. Still, Lucifer was loathe to admit, swallowing back his disgust should have been more difficult than this.

“But, I'm glad you're awake.”

“Oh, yeah?” Kevin practically giggled, raising his free arm to wrap around strong shoulders. “Why is that?”

Lucifer shook himself, mentally, pulling his focus away from the hand sliding down his back, and placing it back to the task at-hand. Looking down at the face beneath him, Lucifer nodded. “There's something I want to show you...”