Lingonberry syrup is the color and consistency of blood.
Unfortunately for hungry vampires, it isn't blood. Also, licking it off your fingers in a crowded diner gets you weird looks. Although that might have something to do with the clothes as well. But they were comfortable and he wasn't going to change them. The clothes people wore now were weird. He kept the clothes and accent as an idiosyncrasy. He had at least added a black coat and hat. Plus a knitted navy scarf he found at a thrift store to keep out the chill. It was probably knitted by someone's grandmother and it was a little lumpy but it was warm. He thought he looked okay.
He wasn't even going to eat the pancakes, only ordered them to keep up appearances while he waited. Not that he couldn't eat them. There was no rule vampires couldn't eat actual food. They still had all the usual equipment for eating. It just didn't do anything after you ingested the super soldier serum that is human blood. And everything tasted really weird because of super senses. It was like it was slowly decaying in your mouth.
So here he was in the diner, playing the waiting game and not eating. Some kid was kicking the back of his booth and slurping on a candy cane, saliva and sugar coating their face. Christmas music was playing overhead. That was nice. Benny was a pretty big fan of the holiday season when he was alive the first time around. Although it seldom snowed in Louisiana. And when it did it was only a light dusting that never amounted to anything. The most useless snow in all existence. But not here. Here the snow was piled high. Someone had made a snowman that looked like it was peering in the window and that was...probably unsettling after dark.
The door opened, bringing in cold air and Dean Winchester. If this were a noir detective novel, Dean would be the flustered dame that came looking for help. But this isn't that kind of story. Benny needed Dean's help. Again. He had a blood problem. It was getting harder to find a solid blood supply during the season of giving.
Being alive again really sucked. And not in the fun vampire way. In the 'I haven't been alive in at least forty years and what is this?' way. But Benny was a smart guy. He figured out cell phones and credit card fraud pretty quick, those are easy concepts really. Dean swept in, looking so out of place in the restaurant full of tired holiday shoppers and parents that were already sick of winter vacation.
"Hey, Benny. What's your emergency?" Dean asked, as he slid into the booth across from him. He immediately picked up the syrup-sticky menu.
Benny sighed. They were going to have to indulge his silly pie fetish. Dean, always so predictable. Benny could already envision the obscenely large slice of hot apple pie with a heaping scoop of cinnamon ice cream slowly melting on top. And then little bits of buttery crust and sweet filling getting stuck to his pretty pink lips. His tongue darting out to lick it off. Oh. If he thought he had a blood problem before, he really had one now.
"I need your help gettin’ some blood, brother. My supply is runnin' real low, and it's hard to sneak around to get more this time of year. Too many people could see. Need your help with the place." Benny said, leaning his elbow on the table.
He had tried to get into several local blood banks and other places that held the stuff on ice. It was difficult. He couldn't even pretend he was there to give blood since he technically didn't exist as a person. He had watched the comings and goings of the workers of a local one. He had been casing it out for some time and needed some help with his plan and knew just the guy to help him pull off the operation without a hitch.
"So you called me here to help you Ocean's Eleven that bitch?"
The waitress came and took Dean's order. And as Benny expected, there was uncomfortable flirting.
"Could you focus up an' not flirt with everything on legs? I didn't ask you here for fun." Benny said once the young and blushing waitress had skedaddled.
Dean didn't even have the decency to look ashamed. Just raised his eyebrows and gave a quick half shrug and wide grin. Benny was hungry, really hungry, the painful rumbling headache hungry. Like he hadn't been for such a long time. He was nearly feral with it. He could smell and hear Dean's blood pumping. He could almost feel and taste it on his tongue. He took a deep breath and reigned it in.
"It'll be easier with two. You can go in front and distract them while I sneak in back and get what I need." Benny said, trying not to watch as Dean bit at a hangnail.
The waitress came back with a thick slice of pie, dripping a trail of ice cream down her thumb. She licked it off and gave Dean a sly conspirator's wink. Benny wanted very much to tell her to knock it off, or else. Just as Benny knew he would do, Dean licked his lips and brought the first bite to his lips with a moan. He knew he should have picked another place to meet. A library, a parking lot, anywhere but the frosty little diner with the excellent pie. Dean barely listened as Benny laid out his plan, going over the times where workers changed, what the uniform looked like, the code to the security system. Things he spent a long time learning, things that were less important than hot apple pie apparently.
After a while Benny just stopped talking. Just watched Dean stare lovingly at a pastry like nothing else had ever brought him so much joy. Like it was all he had ever wanted. This Dean was a softer, more human one than he had seen during their time as allies in purgatory. And as unhelpful as he was being, he could not begrudge him this fleeting moment of happiness. Also, he wasn't noticing that he was being watched fairly intently by a vampire deep in the throes of bloodlust. He furthermore did not notice that he had just set his hand down in a tacky puddle of maple syrup.
"Dude why is every surface in this place covered in syrup?! I didn't even know they made this many kinds. I'm going to need a friggin' shower after I leave." he said, sliding out of the booth and depositing droplets of goo all the way to the bathroom.
After a quiet minute of halfhearted contemplation, and half hardened other things, Benny followed him.
The tiny bathroom was filled with erotic stereo sound. Grunts, and moans, and little hitched breaths. There was a hand fisted in Dean's almost too short hair, bending him a slightly awkward but oh so right angle. His hands gripped the cold steel bar of the only stall, there was a rapidly cooling trail of saliva from his nape to the top of his ass. He was hoping and praying with all he had that the locks on the door were sound and that nobody was waiting outside.
He was about thirty seconds from cumming all over his fist and the beige wall he was slouched against. Figures a monster wouldn't be considerate enough to give a damn reach around. The stall was a tight fit for two, his forehead was so close to the wall it had kissed it once or twice on particularly deep thrusts. His knees were red and slightly tingly from minutes spent kneeling on the chilly tile floor with a cock in his mouth being called pretty and told how nice his lips were. And okay, that was hot, and maybe he was blushing a little, but he would never admit to it.
Benny had his thumb pressed hard right above Dean's hole, it made everything tighter, and all the feelings brighter for both of them. He learned that trick from a pretty little soldier back in 1942. Stubbled cheeks scratched over Dean's shoulders, and something sharper on his neck which were probably vampire teeth. He really really hoped that he wasn't about to get bitten. He was all for a bit of roughness, but not the kind that drained your life force. And he was so close, he really didn't want to have to put an elbow in Benny's ribs when they had been having such a good time. Then Benny groaned and withdrew his teeth.
Both were racing toward completion, Dean making little unh unh unh sounds every time hips met ass. One last long thrust and Benny let go of his hair, coming with a soft grunt. He was all take, take, take, with just the tiniest hint of give. Dean was grind your teeth and strain all your muscles close. He would be done by now if only a certain bloodsucker would stop leaning all his weight on him and give him a hand in a very literal sense.
Dean began to tell him in no uncertain terms that if he didn't touch him right now, he was going to chop his friggin’ head off. Benny gave a brief chuckle and snaked a callused hand down to lace his fingers with Dean's. A few quick slides and Dean was gone, letting his head rest against the wall as he came, and wondering how he even got in this situation to begin with.
The last thing he remembered was going in to wash his hands because every surface in that place was sticky with syrup.