#dunno what took me so long i love swayze

[write-nerdy-to-me]

“dean, how long have you known you’re bisexual?”

dean inhales sharply and shuts his eyes, managing to count up to six before settling for gritting his teeth. the only reason he doesn’t pour his coffee down the kitchen sink and leave to hide in his room for the next, oh, fifty-odd years so he doesn’t have to deal with this shit, is that he just filled it before jack meandered in. dean’s already close to snapping, and it’s not even 11am.

it’s gonna be one of those days.

he turns to face jack. “what.”

jack looks at him patiently, head tilted, resembling cas as he squints a little, like he’s focusing harder on dean’s face. “when did you know? or how did you?”

“piss off, kid,” dean says offhandedly, tired of this conversation everyone seems to keep having with him. “did sam put you up to this?”

“well— not exactly. he talked to me about it, but i came to you on my own.”

oh for fuck’s sake—

dean sets his coffee on the counter, needing both hands to rub his face as he says, “he did, did he.” looks like dean is gonna have to break sam’s knees now.

“yeah, i think he was trying to give me ‘the talk.’” dean can hear the quotation marks jack puts around the words, and while his face is covered, he doesn’t need to see to know that jack did the actual gesture, too. if it was any other time, dean would be suppressing a smile at the very cas-like mannerism, but right now, he’s not feeling it.

he lowers his hands to cross his arms over his chest. “how’d that go?”

“it was… unpleasant, for the both of us.”

dean snorted. “yeah, i can see that.” when jack continues to stand there, staring at him, dean lets out a breath that turns into a displeased groan at the end. “you’re not going to let this go, are you.” jack stays silent. “fuck, i dunno. when did roadhouse come out?”

“1989.”

“sure. yeah. that sounds about right, give or take a year.” he’s not being entirely serious — though roadhouse was a sort of awakening for him — and he wasn’t expecting jack to give him the actual year. part of him is proud that the kid knew the answer, but as he starts to imagine patrick swayze, he gets lost in thought. “swayze, hmm. and jennifer grey. demi moore….”

“who?”

oh. right, they haven’t gotten to ghost and dirty dancing during their swayze watch. and dean’s not sure if he’s ready to show jack to wong foo just yet — not with the way sam’s been acting. he swears his brother is gonna start hanging up pride flags around the bunker. “never mind. point is, a long time.”

“so… almost all your life?”

“i guess you could say that, yeah. didn’t always have a term for it. i just knew what i liked, better yet who i liked. that’s never been an issue for me. it was the-the…” he shifts his weight on his feet, leaning back against the kitchen counter. “the love thing that took me a while.”

“why is that?”

“jesus, kid,” dean says. he can’t help but laugh a little. “i dunno, i thought i was no good, that i didn’t deserve it. pick a reason, i’m sure i had it.”

jack gets a contemplative look on his face — and again, dean can’t help but be reminded of cas. “cas says we all deserve love, even when we don’t feel like we do.”

well, shit. jack just tosses that out there, his steady gaze on dean containing multitudes. his eyes are young and well beyond his age.

“yeah,” dean breathes, hit unexpectedly. just what this morning needs. he’s not gonna fucking cry now. “yeah. yeah, we do, especially then.”

“i’m… not sure what i am,” jack says. “is that okay?”

is that okay? as if dean could be upset with him for not knowing. dean feels his heart twist. goddammit, maybe he is gonna cry. he’s surprised — and grateful — his voice doesn’t come out a little strained. “'course it is.” to cover up the fact his eyes are stinging, he quickly adds some levity. “just— use protection.”

“protection? what would i— oh.” jack scrunches up his nose. “i don’t think i’m ready for that.”

dean picks his coffee back up, giving a lazy salute. “you and me both, kid.”

—

a companion piece to the crackfic taken seriously