flutiebear:ravenno:Day Six, Sweet Tooth!It’s hard to find good candy out here in the bayou. Nu

flutiebear:ravenno:Day Six, Sweet Tooth!It’s hard to find good candy out here in the bayou. Nutria, yes. Crawfish, sure. But candy is hard to come by, because the bayou ain’t in the business of making things sweet, only pretty. But he’d found some, sure enough; after all, it’s hard to stop any vamp with a mind to it from finding what don’t want to be found.Benny now leans his back against the camper, stuffing cheery-colored boxes with foil-wrapped sweets. He whistles while he works. “The Twelve Yats of Christmas”, of course. No one’s around to get the joke. Benny laughs anyway. A small sucker escapes his grasp. He holds it up, peers at it intently.“Are you in,” he says, smirking, “or out?”The candy doesn’t answer, so Benny eats it. That’ll show it what’s what.It’s pralines for Elizabeth, of course, to match her pretty brown eyes. Benny wishes he remembered he remembered her grandmother better; the shape of her eyes, the touch of her hand. All he remembers is a sharp laugh, like a dog barking, so at odds with the smooth, lazy Carencro accent; and that long train of hair, the exact shade of shelled pecans. Elizabeth doesn’t have her Maw-Maw’s hair. Close, but not quite. But she does have pretty eyes, and a kind heart, and a dog-bark laugh, though in Benny’s estimation she don’t share it as often as she should.  Caramels for himself, ‘cause he’s gone so soft in his old age.Candy canes for Dean, ‘cause he’s such a sucker.Candy canes for himself, ‘cause he’s a sucker, too.Chocolates for Cas, naturally, but only the ones with the obnoxious, shiny wrappers that are always so hard to unwrap. The chocolate might taste a little strange, a little off and cock-eyed, like it’s been in your aunt’s pocket all night; but that’s okay ‘cause you like it anyway. Yeah, you do. But you sure as hell ain’t gonna tell him that.  Sour gummies for Sam. Benny hopes they get stuck in his too-white teeth.Some more caramels, this time for Andrea’s grave, because she was always so soft with him, and because she loved to roll them around on her tongue, teasing him with that delightfully wicked grin.More candy canes, and more foil, and more whistling. More of everything. It is Christmas, after all, and there’s a whole twelve yats to get through.When he’s done, Benny calls Dean out and he comes lightning-quick. Boy must think there’s a hunt in it, maybe, or some etouffe. Benny is never really sure. Dean gets the same look in his eye either way.Dean takes his box (and Sam’s, and Cas’s too; don’t think he don’t notice that) and unwraps the thing there, right in the middle of the camp. He looks down at the assortment of canes for a moment, then pulls Benny in a warm, easy hug.“You son of a bitch,” says Dean, clapping Benny on the back. “I never knew you had such a sweet tooth.”“All my teeth are sweet.” Benny grins, showing them off.Dean laughs like he’s rusty at it. “Especially the fangs.”“Nah.” Benny shrugs. “Don’t you know? They’re just pretty.” -- source link

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