#newest obsession: benny in tiny lil glasses that he doesn't need

[good-things-do-happen-dean]

also for a prompt: dean/benny/cas & puppy

here it is, here it is!!! (puppy is uhhhh very very loosely used, but i couldn’t help myself and made this anyway) ily thank you for sending this 💖

benny bear inspo of course from this amazing art (artist appears to have changed urls?? ahhh sorry i can’t credit completely!! if u are out there op, i love your art)

It’s mostly a joke (but also a last ditch effort) when Dean tries out Benny bear. All the usual ones just don’t work for Benny. They avoid angel and all iterations of it. Sweetheart feels clunky, and sweetie? Come on, Dean’s over forty. Plus, he can’t take honey seriously, baby is taken (obviously), and babe is just not quite right. Neither is love, apparently, because that most recent attempt makes Dean grimace and blush even though Benny just drops a kiss on the top of Dean’s head and says, “You’ll find something, cher.” Which is even more frustrating because the whole point is to find something that works for Benny, not be reminded of how easily cher happened. But Dean leans into the touch anyway, of course, and definitely does not smile, not even a little bit. So, Dean decides, it’s really Benny’s fault that he has to resort to Benny bear, which is ridiculous and won’t fit a however-many-centuries-old vampire.

Except it does.

Just not from Dean.

When Dean says, “I’m all out of options, Benny bear,” stretched out in the grass near the garden, Benny shoots him a bitch face that rivals Sam’s.

But Cas, who’s kneeling in the soil with his worn jeans rolled up to his knees, weeding, perks up. “Benny bear,” he repeats, shaping each syllable carefully. “It suits you.” He wipes at his sweaty brow with the back of one gloved hand and leaves a streak of dirt.

Dean is (he feels, justifiably) absolutely floored when Benny goes all soft around the edges and just melts, bitch face smoothing into a small smile. And leans over to brush the dirt from Cas’s forehead. And kisses him gently. What the fuck.

It turns out that the Benny bear and puppy dog eyes combo slays vampires. Well, specifically one centuries-old, former vampire-pirate, current vampire-diner-cook, anyway, and only when it comes from one ex-angel in particular. (Not that Dean is entirely immune to its power, especially when it’s paired with a little bit of a head tilt.)

And it works for everything. It works for convincing Benny to come back to bed in the mornings. It works for “borrowing” Benny’s sweaters, with the added bonus that Benny always takes Cas’s wrists in his hands and rolls up the too-long sleeves.

It works for getting Benny to turn up the volume of some ‘90s pop something or other that comes on the radio, which he would have done anyway. But that’s when Dean realizes Cas knows.

They’re out for a drive, no real destination in mind, just enjoying the sunset spread out in front of them fading into twilight. Dean’s in the back. His bad knee has been bothering him recently, enough that he passes on driving most of the time. (Okay, just slightly more than half the time. There’s three of them, they can trade off.) And there’s a touch of gray at his temples that wasn’t there before, but that’s all right since Cas can’t get enough of it and kisses him there every morning when he wakes up and every night before he drops off to sleep. But since Dean is in the back seat, he catches Cas’s tiny grin in the rearview mirror when Benny cranks up Britney Spears.

“You’re a monster,” Dean says without heat, resting his palm on the nape of Cas’s neck over the back of the seat and scratching lightly at the hair that’s starting to curl up at the ends there.

Cas only shrugs, grin growing wider, and Benny says, “Surely of the three of us, that’s me.”

Which, while technically true, seems ridiculous at the moment since he’s examining the delicate purple baby blanket he’s knitting for Sam and Eileen through the half-moon glasses he doesn’t really need, and he’s still got the flower Cas gave him tucked behind his ear. And he’s nodding along to Britney.

“Whatever you say, sugar,” Dean says with a laugh. Stops. Meets Benny’s gaze in the rearview mirror.

Benny reaches over to take Dean’s hand resting on Cas’s neck, lacing their fingers together there. “Sugar,” he says. “I like that.”