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Sam'd finally figured it out. The missing pages from his contract, the way the Devil treated him, it could only mean one thing.
“I’m your son, aren’t I?”
The Devil laughs, which was totally not the reaction Sam was expecting. “You think you’re the antichrist now, kid? Being a reaper not enough for you?”
Sam backpedaled. “No, just, Tony said—and there’s missing pages, and—“
The Devil cuts off Sam’s rambling with a smirk. “I’ve only ever had one son, Sam, and it isn’t you.” The Devil smiles; Sam might almost think it was a softer expression. Almost. “His name’s Adam, lives over in England. He was supposed to bring about the apocalypse, but decided he liked the world too much. I was angry at first, but with children, eventually you have to let them make their own stupid decisions.” The Devil chuckles and Sam tries to get his head around the idea of Satan as a father.
The Devil steps forward, crowding into Sam’s personal space.
Sam backs up until his back hits the wall.
The Devil grins, white teeth gleaming sharply. “Besides, Sam, if we were related, it would make what I’m about to do so much more of a sin.”
Sam’s breath catches in his throat as the Devil leans forward and kisses him. It burns like hellfire and temptation, and really, kissing evil incarnate should not feel this good. Sam gasps and the Devil’s tongue snakes between his lips, ravishing his mouth.
The Devil pulls away slowly, all soft lips and lingering fingertips. “You’re not my son, Sam; you’re more special than that.”
Sam stares at his boss, shocked and gasping, He’s pretty sure he’s gaping like a fish.
The Devil’s eyes drop to Sam’s lips; he grins. “See you later, Sammy.” The Devil chuckles, low and soft, and disappears.