"Why wouldn't I" Sam whispered back. He placed his finger over his mouth to keep Eames from talking any further. In the relative silence of the darkened room, Sam listened for any noise. After what felt like forever, he heard footsteps. He heard a grunting noise behind him and whirled around, but it was too dark to see. He couldn't hear or see Eames anymore. He gripped his gun tighter and was about to start shooting at the noise from the footsteps when the lights turned back on.
Sam blinked in the sudden brightness.
"Perhaps you should consider putting that gun away, Winchester." When Sam turned to face the sound of the voice of the tailor, he saw the man with a knife at Eames' neck. Eames struggled to try and get out of the man's grip but it was too strong.
Sam cocked his head, attempting to get a better look at the tailor. "What's going on here?"
All of his questions were answered when the man's eyes went matte black and a slow smile spread on his lips. "What does it look like?"
Sam's grip tightened on his gun as he felt his blood start to pump faster through his veins. His outward appearance betrayed no unease but inside he felt like an engine revving before a huge race. Adrenaline filled his body, sharpened his mind. "Let him go."
The demon laughed and shook his head. "I wasn't born yesterday. You and I have a score to settle and we are going to do it right now." Then he whistled and before Sam could turn around, he felt the press of another knife at his back.
"Drop the gun." Another demon said from behind Sam. He released the gun from his fingertips and let it fall to the ground. The demon behind Sam picked it up and threw it at the other demon, behind Eames.
"Then this is between us. He has nothing to do with it." Sam said.
Eames struggled as the demon tightened the knife against his throat. "You and I and your friend are going to take a trip."
"And what if I don't want to take this trip?" Sam shot back.
The demon smiled again and pressed the knife into Eames' throat, drawing blood and a grunt of pain from Eames.
"Should have just shot him." Eames said hoarsely as the blood from his throat fell down his neck and onto the collar of his shirt.
The demon motioned for Sam to go first and he began walking, the knife still pressed firmly at his back. When they reached the threshold of the door, Sam saw his chance. He veered to the left and stepped backward, turning around in time to grab the knife out of the demon's hand. He twirled the knife in his hand so that his hand was wrapped around the base and drove it deep into the demon's chest. The demon gave a gurgling cry and fell to the ground.
The demon behind Eames backed up and tried to get back into the large room instead of the small hallway. Eames struggled against him, managing to pry the gun loose from the demon's other hand. The gun dropped on the ground and Sam kicked it away. He reached behind him, to the pistol he kept in the waistband of his pants and clicked the safety off. The demon screamed and tried to pull Eames closer, tried to use him as a body shield. Sam took aim and shot, the bullet just barely missing Eames' ear before finding purchase between the demon's eyes. The demon screamed and fell, taking Eames down with him, blood flowing quickly from the head wound.
Sam reached down and helped Eames up, grasping the other man's forearm.
Once standing, Eames looked down at himself. His shirt was bloody, both from his own blood and the blood of the now-dead demon. "You could have shot me."
Sam shrugged and put the safety back on the gun. "I didn't."
Eames gave him an intense once-over and Sam felt all of the adrenaline go straight to his cock. And when Eames licked his lips just slightly it took everything inside of Sam to not groan out loud. "You did ruin a perfectly nice shirt though."
"Could have been worse," Sam commented off-handedly, rubbing the blade of the knife on the dead demon's shirt to clean it.
"How? This was expensive." Eames said. "Shall we?" He motioned towards the door.