"Your fangs look fuckin' dumb, Dean."
"Shut up, Benny, you're the one who bought them."
"Yeah, 'cause you're a real cutie." Dean curled a lip at the endearment, but Benny continued to talk before he could object. "And you wanted to dress up, now didn'tcha?" Dean bared his fangs and made an exaggerated hiss.
Benny started laughing so hard he nearly fell off his barstool. Dean rolled his eyes and then crossed his arms, beginning to pout. Benny steadied himself on the side of the bar, grinning at Dean.
"Let's go back to the motel room." He purred suddenly, leaning forwards and pressing his lips to Dean's, so Dean felt his stubble drag on his own clean-shaven cheeks.
"What about the party?" Dean pulled the plastic fangs from his mouth, holding them between his finger and thumb.
"What about my dick, kid?" Benny retorted, and Dean snorted.
"You're insatiable."
"You're pretty, what can I say?" Dean and Benny moved out of the bar, and once the door was closed behind them Benny ripped at Dean's clothes, the cheap fabric of Dean's Dracula costume, such a stark contrast to Benny's own expensive and beautifully made piratical one. Dean made no attempt to tear at Benny's own, and quickly enough he removed his own costume, baring muscle and skin to Dean's eyes.
"Put the fangs back in." Benny said. Dean stared at him.
"Are you kidding?"
"No, they're cute! Put 'em back in." Dean gave a long-suffering sigh, and reached for the plastic on the bedside table.