The Wedding Crashers

Chapter Twelve

While Dean had every intention of getting more food, it actually wasn't because he was all that hungry-the cake had been considerably more filling than all the appetizers. The real reason he wanted to eat more was so that he could drink more. This bullshit was utterly intolerable, and only the solace of alcohol was going to get him through it.

He savagely grabbed a plate and then made an executive decision to ignore the forks and just started popping random items onto his plate with his fingers, muttering the whole way.

"Bloodsucking bastards tell me one more time I smell delicious, I'm gonna start swingin'-nasty bitches. Keep your stinkin' comments-and your hands-to yourselves!" He turned around, glaring at the crowd as he stomped towards the beer. "'Accident' my ass, acting like it's my fault you think I smell good, blaming it on me if you murder me-what, is my skirt too short, too?! Was I asking for it?!" He slammed his plate down on the table and then jammed his glass under the tap to fill up again, not caring that he was pouring a light beer over the remnants of a dark, keeping up his steady stream of angry complaints. "You can all go douche with a Roman candle, every last one of you. 'Most delectable aroma you've ever smelled'-I'm not bacon, you dicks!"

His head jerked up when a great, booming laugh sounded nearby. He didn't bother trying to look polite or contrite when he saw it was a vamp, and he didn't even care that this guy was massive, bigger than even most of the wolves present. He was grinning merrily in the face of Dean's obvious hostility, still sniggering.

"Bacon," he repeated, chuckling. "That's fantastic."

Dean glared daggers at the chucklehead, and then snatched up a fork and stabbed it viciously in his direction. "You listen to me, you sparkly snot-nosed shithead," he snarled, "if you start going on about how I smell-"

The vampire raised his hands. "Dude, dude-chill. I don't swing that way," he said placatingly.

Dean stared, his itty-bitty fork still raised in warning, the vampire still smiling carelessly. Dean finally stuck his fork on his plate. "Well, all right, then," he said grumpily, about to walk back to Cas and Sam.

"Hey, stick around for a bit," the vampire said quickly, closing the distance between them. "I'm Emmett Cullen," he added.

Dean was immediately on point, and not just because this guy was frickin' huge. Oh, great-a Cullen, isn't this just wonderful? "Dean Winchester," he said tersely, and blinked when Emmett did not hold out his hand, but instead raised his fist.

"Awesome," he rumbled when Dean warily bumped his knuckles with his own. "You're one of the dudes who came in with Leah, right?" At Dean's sharp nod, he sighed and said, "I would ask how she's doing, but I already know." He grimaced, looking the direction of Leah's table; her head was bent low and her mother and cousin were leaning close and were speaking urgently to her; Leah's fists were clenched where they rested on the tabletop. "Hope she's been having a better time with you guys than she is here."

"Uh-I like to think so," Dean said slowly, not quite sure what to make of this.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm glad she got out-but pardon me if I feel sorry for myself about it now and again. Things have been so damn boring since she left," Emmett complained. "She was my football buddy-we'd always get together and watch the game on weekends when she was free. She was awesome to have around, really got into it. Nobody screams obscenities like Leah." He tossed a grin at Dean.

Dean could only raise his eyebrows and nod in agreement. "Yeah, you have a point there," he conceded, having seen her in action himself.

"After she left, though, I didn't have anybody who'd watch sports with me. Rose certainly won't-that's my wife, by the way," Emmett said, pointing out into the crowd. "She's the hot blonde you totally wish you could have sex with."