There he was, with that smirk of his, walking every single day in your church to greet you—some would say even tempt you. After a while of that same routine, you finally decided to go up to him, with that scolding-like look of yours every time you asked that specific question.

"When was the last time you confessed your sins?"

Dean snorts, not seeming to believe any of that salvation bullshit. "And when was the last time you’ve slept with anyone?"