Sam lifted his gaze to meet Dean's. His eyes a mixture of lust, mischief and a hint of darkness to them. He pulled back enough to smirk. "Don't make me bite you, jerk." He dipped his head again, taking Dean into his mouth.
His free hand came to rest on Dean's thigh, blunt fingernails digging into his skin. Well, Dean was the one who said he wasn't glass.