#non-binary Jack Kline

[soullessjack]

not sure if I’ve ever made a post about this before but the idea of jack being non-binary is truly so perfect for so many reasons. firstly he’s always existed in this taboo gray area between two rigid/opposing binaries (human/angel ; good/evil ; mother/father)

and there’s also some gendering in those binaries if you squint hard enough but I’m not a fervent genderstudiesnatural expert

neither side of these binaries can fully accept that jack is a sum of their parts (for lack of better phrasing); Lucifer and AU Michael both view his humanity as a weakness/malfunction or a phase he’ll mature out of, and several hunters—namely AU Bobby—treat Jack’s angelic heritage like the equivalent of rabies, a ticking time bomb that will inherently and eventually go off. of course everyone can acknowledge that jack is a Nephil in his own right, but he’s still viewed specifically as two halves instead of one Whole being. it’s probably worth adding that he literally will die or become a megalomaniac if he isn’t a mix of his two halves

then, jack is also exceptionally morally gray. frankly the writing of the show doesn’t fully portray this well, and while he does openly position himself as a Good Guy and a Hero and aspire to be such,…. So did the rest of tfw and look at all the shit under their belt. They’re antiheroes at best but that’s another post

in AlCal’s own words:

jack is all-encompassing. he shows various parts of the rigid moral dichotomy—he literally has a penchant for torturing enemies out of sheer hatred for them while being nicknamed ‘sweetheart’—but isn’t really confined to either one (although he does try and fail to confine himself).

lastly, there’s a very common experience among queer autistic people called gender indifference, which is exactly what it sounds like. We just..don’t care about gender. there’s no strong attachment between it and our identity. I know what I am biologically but I literally don’t feel it, so I wouldn’t and haven’t cared if I was misgendered. and I think for jack, someone who deals with the weight of being this archaic nebulous creature while having an extremely new relatively-human body, there would be similar feelings of disconnection and indifference.

also, whenever people ask him what/who he is the answer is literally always “I’m Jack.” like. That’s it. That’s the sum of it. he’s not entirely good or bad or human or archangel; he’s not 100% kelly or Lucifer. he’s just jack :3c

[bisexual-cryptid]

i’m case you were wondering, yes i am an autistic non-binary jack kline truther.

[genderimpala]

heterosexuality isn't real it was made up by the cw to hide the fact that every single character in supernatural was queer.

the show as a piece of media is so interesting from a queer perspective because it's like you are standing in the ocean. you can feel several things touching you. you know exactly what they are from the shape. you can vaguely see them through the water, and you know what they are but no-one else seems to.

people are standing miles away on the shore, and they are telling you nothing is there, you're crazy, come back. but you can feel it. and you tell them and they are not listening.

you are doing a puzzle. it's of a beautiful ship, very complex, multi-faceted piece and just when you think you're finished, you almost have it, you realise the middle piece is missing, the head of the mermaid at the front of the boat. however. you can deduce from every other piece of this puzzle exactly what the middle piece is. you might not have a defined answer, but you know what's missing.

and they're telling you it's a donkey head.

[spookyblazecoffee]

Happy birthday, Jack Kline!!

[babygirldilf]

💛🤍💜🖤

[pixiealamode]

Hiiiiiii, I wrote the fluffiest little Supernatural AU fanfic! Please gimmie a read if you need a break from reality. It's even completed!

Dean and Emma Winchester are starting to get bored with the daily slog. Maybe the new neighbors below them can make life interesting? Or maybe Dean messes things up before they even start.

[soullessjack]

honestly even the concept of domestic aus is starting to confuse me bc like. They do have a home. A very big home with structured chores and family event nights. Dean and Jack both own aprons and Dean cooks for everyone. Sam gets up early to jog around the woods in full running gear. Dean owns novelty socks. Cas and Jack play Connect 4 together. They routinely stop out to eat after hunts. Jack is very much their kid, early 20’s or not, and he reciprocates that they are all collectively his dads (so yes, him being a baby literally is so unnecessary for domestication). By hunter standards they’re all well in the lap of domestic luxury, and by family standards they’re almost a polar opposite of the nuclear gender family archetype. Nothing about them is a white picket fence and apple pie American Dream life—it’s better! And it’s weird that the fandom is so obsessed with reducing their unique read: queer found family dynamic down into that traditional American Dream nuclear sitcom family archetype. I won’t hijack your post for a gender study of SPN, but I do wanna say that SPN’s distinct portrayal of masculinity is probably (and surprisingly) one of their stronger points? like, Dean wore pink satin panties and was archetypically a mother for Sam.

Cas is angelically agender, & his entire arc of becoming more human is pivotal to him being emotional and caring. Jack takes after his mother in both personality and resemblance, and he admires her as what he wants to be; he’s very openly emotional and empathetic and “soft,” and nurturing, as Sam was with him, and that’s narratively celebrated!! There’s also the undeniable queerness of Jack having “more dads than most” as a surface level reading. Traditional nuclear gender roles associate all of these traits with femininity, with womanhood, and for SPN to very blatantly give it to these violent macho meat men — for them to even explicitly reject the toxic masculinity of their fathers & paternal lineage —, is huge! Im not saying SPN is feminism central by any means, but their distinct flavor of man is very unique and very very queer by traditional standards, and so TFW2.0 can be seen as inherently queer in that vein, which just circles back around into how fucking weird it is that the fandom obsessively womanizes/feminizes them to make them more ‘palatably queer,’ (cough Castiel) bc to put it shortly: masculinity is not considered inherently queer by a large majority of other queer people.

You can put a gay man in a dress and call it a night for defying gender roles, but are you really defying anything if you’re treating that gay man in a dress as functionally-a-woman in your pairing of him with a very masculine man? If you’re insisting that one of these fathers is actually the appointed “mother,” because he was the one to be more explicitly nurturing? If the only way you can think of this family being “perfectly domestic” is in a rigid outdated dynamic? Are you even trying to defy anything at this point?

y’all’s thing for de-aging jack is actually weird and completely unnecessary.

i genuinely need an explanation why there’s so much content (and why it’s a lot of y’all’s preferred content) on taking an autistic coded character and quite literally infantilizing him? he chose not to have a childhood because he didn’t need one and y’all demand to reverse it? removing his ability to speak and/or make decisions for himself? that’s horror, it’s not cute!!

even if it was just about human ideas being put onto a fictional nephil when the other angels didn’t have a childhood either, it would still be odd!! but no, he’s also autistic so his autistic traits are used as reasoning to why he shouldn’t be able to form coherent sentences and drink out of supply cups. you know who thinks like that? ableists!!! i compare y’all to those people who start talking to autistic adults like they’re children after they find out they’re autistic. even as a kid or a teen he becomes so OOC and it’s weird how much y’all have latched onto a fanon thing that doesn’t exist and actively have isolated autistic people because of it.

ultimately, there’s no reason to de-age him other than to make him a cute prop for family fanart and nuclear family fics, but y’all apparently lack the ability to take the rose colored glasses off. it’s so odd how much y’all have romanticized taking away the autonomy he chose to have and i actually hate how kid!fic content is the most interacted with. make an OC or shut up. jack doesn’t need to be a baby or a kid to have parents. critically think about the ableism behind the whole concept. i understand it’s not intentional but the impact is harmful and after 6 years, i think you’ve had enough. and for the love of all that is unholy, he is not just sunshine and rainbows. so stop being selfish and removing autistic representation.

also: you lot who think he canonically has a baby brain and an adult body…. i shouldn’t even have to explain the ableism behind this. he’s a beer drinking war veteran cannibal who wanted to fuck on a case and ended up being threatened with necromancy like idk how we even watched the same show. if your argument is velcro shoes—i hate you. disabled people wear them, old people (people becoming disabled by age) wear them, people who have poor motor skills or just who hate taking the time to tie their shoes wear them. they’re not just for children. shut up. your argument is not canon, you’re just an ableist weirdo.

[lazydoodlesandfanfic]

SUPERNATURAL MASTERLIST

*DISCLAIMER: SOME STORIES MAY BE TAGGED FOR WRONG DEMOGRAPHIC (ie, Not GN, male or fem) IF SO, PLEASE POLITELTY INFORM ME SO I CAN FIX IT

DEAN WINCHESTER

Finally Reunited (Dean Winchester X Daughter!Reader)

Little Him (Dean Winchester X Daughter!Reader)

Too Many Jokes (Dean Winchester X Daughter!Reader)

Should Have Known (Dean Winchester X Daughter!Reader)

Try Again Next Week (Dean Winchester X Male!Reader)

Make It To Me (Dean Winchester X Reader)

Pushing Yourself (Dean Winchester X Reader)

Until Next Time (Dean Winchester X Fem!Reader)

Not The Planned Delivery (Dean Winchester X Pregnant!Reader)

Baby Banshee (Dean Winchester X Wife!Reader)

SAM WINCHESTER

Rowena's Apprentice (Sam Winchester X Son!Reader)

Prom Date (Sam Winchester X Son!Reader)

Shirts Worn By Brothers (Sam Winchester X Trans!Brother!Reader)

First Hunt (Sam Winchester X Brother!Reader)

Being Sam's Half-Demon, Bi-Racial Son Would Include...

Too Selfless (Sam Winchester X Daughter!Reader)

Nerdy Interactions (Sam Winchester X Fem!Reader)

Big Secrets (Sam Winchester X Fem!Reader)

Spill (Sam Winchester X Fem!Reader) *TW

Senses (Sam Winchester X Twin!Reader)

JOHN WINCHESTER

Choice Between Siblings (Dean Winchester X Daughter!Reader)

MARY WINCHESTER

Poor Heart (Mary Winchester X Daughter!Reader)

CASTIEL

Caught With The Angel (Castiel X Winchester!Fem!Reader)

Pants (Castiel X Asexual!Reader)

Neglected Dreams (Castiel X Teen!Fem!Reader)

Feeling Left Out (Castiel X Fem!Reader)

Where Were You!? (Castiel X Fem!Reader)

CROWLEY

Did You Multiply?(Crowley X Winchester!Fem!Reader) Pt 1/Pt 2

Little Winchester (Crowley X Winchester!Fem!Reader)

Good Hunter (Crowley X Winchester!Fem!Reader)

Liking A Demon (Crowley X Winchester!Reader)

Troublesome Crushes (Crowley X Fem!Reader)

You're A Demon/ Hunter? (Crowley X Fem!Reader)

A Different Kind Of Deal (Crowley X Fem!Reader)

GABRIEL

Chocolate (Gabriel X Teen!Winchester!Reader)

Losing My Angel (Gabriel X Winchester!Fem!Reader)

Angel Date (Gabriel X Fem!Reader)

Binary Spells (Gabriel X Non!Binary!Reader)

MICHAEL

Being Michael's Daughter Would Include...

Asshole (Michael X Fem!Reader)

LUCIFER

Being Lucifer's First Son Would Include...

JACK KLINE

Being Jack Kline's Twin Would Include...

Lost Twin (Jack Kline X Twin Sister!Reader)

For Mom (Jack Kline X Twin Sister!Reader)

Stories Behind Scars (Jack Kline X Winchester!Reader)

OTHER

Distraction (Team Free Will X Reader)

Safety And Security (Winchester Bros X Sister!Reader)

Growing Up (Winchester Bros X Sister!Reader)

3 Year Reunion (Winchester Bros X Sister!Reader)

Fidgetting (Winchester Bros X Sister!Reader)

Trying to Help (Winchester Bros X Blind!Sister!Reader)

Deals (Winchester Bros X Sister!Reader)

Our Dear Sister (Winchester Bros X Sister!Reader)

A Normal Life (Winchester Bros X Demon!Reader)

Hello, I'm The Son Of Lucifer (Winchester Bros X Male!Reader)

Safety (Winchester Bros X Fem!Reader)

Being Sam And Lucifer's Son Would Include...

Being Donna and Gabriel's Child Would Include...

Little Witch (Castiel X Dean X Daughter!Reader) Pt 1/ Pt 2

[silly-little-pal]

i believe in non-binary jack kline, i really do

[soullessjack]

i haven’t sorted my s16 predictions yet but I think it would be rather comedic in nature if they were to canonize jack being non-binary and using they/them pronouns in the show (as per alcals headcanon) and suddenly people who don’t even watch the show or fell off way back in the early seasons when jack didn’t even exist start pouring in like “OH SO THIS IS THE WOKECHESTER BROTHERS SHOW NOW THIS IS WHY IT WAS CANCELLED THE WOKER BROTHERS STUDIO WENT WOKE I MISS WHEN THIS WAS A MANS SHOW” and then of course destiel takes them all out with a sniper

[cowboy-deamons-bf]

My Sexuality Headcanons

Dean Winchester is Transmasc and Bisexual

Castiel is Gay (as confirmed by Misha) and non binary (preferences are He/Him or They/Them)

Sam Winchester is Pansexual and uses He/They pronouns

Jack Kline is Pansexual and uses all pronouns (he’s just a happy little nephilim :D)

Gabriel is Pansexual and Gender Fluid

Lucifer is bisexual and doesn’t care what pronouns people use

Michael is Gay and uses He/They

Adam is Gay and a cis male

Crowley is Bisexual (apparently confirmed???) and Transmasc (it’s canon that he kisses men when they make deals)

Bobby is a straight cis male but he’s probably one of the biggest allys

Chuck is bisexual (as confirmed? in the show with him saying he’s had both boyfriends and girlfriends) and uses any and/or all pronouns

[ao3feed-destiel-02]

Save Me

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/EVf5trD by Andy_Ehrlich Team Free Will band is at their peak. With two smashing albums under their belt, they embark on a European tour but the baggage they carry might be too heavy for any plane to lift. Sam's relationship is in turmoil, Jack's just come out, Cas is trying to come to terms with his religious past and Dean is struggling with creative block and alcoholism. Will they end up saving or destroying each other? Words: 3163, Chapters: 1/8, Language: English Fandoms: Supernatural (TV 2005) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/M, Gen, M/M Characters: Castiel (Supernatural), Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Jack Kline, Crowley (Supernatural), Rowena MacLeod, Ruby (Supernatural) Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Ruby/Sam Winchester Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Guitarist Dean Winchester, Bass guitarist Sam Winchester, drummer Jack Kline, Pianist Castiel (Supernatural), Touring, Europe, Writer's Block, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Temporarily Unrequited Love, Pining, Past Benny Lafitte/Dean Winchester, Past Becky Rosen/Sam Winchester, Past Rowena MacLeod/Sam Winchester, Abusive Relationships, religious trauma, Religious Guilt, Non-Binary Jack Kline, Coming Out, Medicinal Drug Use, Physical Abuse, Bad Parent John Winchester, Minor Character Death, Dead John Winchester, Funeral, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Inappropriate Humor, bad non-binary jokes read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/EVf5trD

[hen-of-letters]

@spnprideweek day one: flags

This little ficlet for #spnprideweek is brought to you by my big, non-binary bisexual love for this beautiful fandom, and my desire to fix that moment in 'Baby' when Cas indulges Dean by saying "werepire", but Dean doesn't hear him and Cas doesn't know. It ended up getting a bit long, so there's more under the cut or over on AO3. Thanks!

Dean's at Pride, and feeling a rising level of discomfort.

It's not the fact that he's wearing eyeliner in public for the first time in his forty-two years. Hell, he'd been wanting to do that ever since he was a kid, dreaming of being a rock star. The covers of music magazines in gas station racks had been windows on a world free from the brutally narrow definition of what his Dad meant when he told him to "be a man". Gradually, though, he'd learned what is gloriously apparent today under the hot June sun: that there are as many ways of being a man as there are men.

It's not because the sleeveless white t-shirt he's wearing is somewhat snug. (The heat had made him shed his pink, purple and blue plaid shirt - the one he'd worn today because Claire always called it his 'bi flannel' - and tie it around his waist.) He and Cas are both wearing a little of their contentment on their waistlines these days, and he believes Cas when he says that he adores his body because he means it when he says the same to Cas.

It's not the big, heart-shaped sticker slapped on his chest, which is striped in the colours of the bisexual pride flag in a way that's much less subtle than the flannel. Dean's always known that he wasn't only into chicks, but putting a name to it is new. Dean's had jobs and Dean's had roles, but having an identity had always seemed like a luxury well beyond Dean's means. Now he's not constantly running for his life, though, he has the breathing room to figure himself out. And he's good with this part of himself. More than good.

It's not the two flags that are padding the pockets of his jeans. One, he'd bought for Cas: it's striped in pale pink, pale blue and white. Earlier, he'd gone with Cas when he'd met up with some friends he'd met online (having managed to get past all the cats this time). The ex-angel had found that discussing their experiences of being trans had helped him feel happy in the body that had become his own. Dean could only feel immense gratitude for the way Cas' face had lit up afterwards when he'd talked about how he was creating himself, becoming himself, and embracing the human condition of change.

Dean hopes that the gift of the trans pride flag will show Cas that Dean understands and loves him, and the same is true for the other flag, which he'd picked up for Jack. It's yellow, white, purple and black. Dean had had to do a little research when Jack had used the term non-binary - it's amazing how the world can move on while you're living in an underground bunker. He'd kept on researching, too, after he'd learned the basics. Maybe he was still figuring himself out. Maybe there was more to discover about himself, and wasn't that fantastic?

Jack is wandering around somewhere with Claire and Kaia. Jody and Donna are here, too, with Alex and Patience. Adam and Michael have probably partied their way through fifty international pride parades by now, but they should be meeting up with everyone else later. Sam and Eileen are not far away. Eileen was the one who's slapped the bi pride sticker on Dean's chest - with unnecessary force, if you asked Dean. She'd grinned at him, showed off the identical sticker on her own chest, and said, with a suitably cheesy wink, "we need to stick together". He remembered the moment he'd nervously asked her the sign for 'bisexual', and when she'd shown him - the letter signs for 'b' and 'i' - she'd added, "me too," and Dean had scooped her up into a crushing hug.His love for his family is endless, and them all being here is definitely not why he's uncomfortable.

And it's not the body glitter freckling his cheeks and his shoulders with gold, although his feelings might change by the time he tries to remove it tonight. He'd been gilded with it when he'd been dancing up a storm with a group of drag queens. They'd admired his eyeliner - a deep brown shot through with gold along his upper lashes - but winked and said it was "a little subtle for Pride". As soon as Dean had seen the tube of glitter, he'd yelled "hell yes!" and even managed to hold still long enough to be coated in the stuff before moving his body to the beat again. Although he's sure his feet will be aching later, so far his favourite cowboy boots are not the source of his discomfort.

It's not the bright pink feather boa, either, which he'd acquired from the same source as the glitter, when he'd been sent off with a kiss to the cheek and the words "be bold, honey!" He'd expected the boa to tickle or irritate, but for some bizarre reason the sensation of feathers around his shoulders and the back of his neck feels incredibly comforting and reassuring. He feels warm and safe and oh. Oh.

As that particular realisation sweeps over him, Dean tightens his hold on Cas. He's standing behind him with his right hand on Cas' hip, and his left arm is up over his shoulder and wrapped around his chest. His hand is splayed out, at once putting his silver wedding band on display and somehow attempting to conceal Cas from the eyes of his many admirers (and, well, good luck with that. Cas is incredibly beefy these days).

Which brings us to the source of Dean's discomfort; to the thing that's deepening the furrow in his brow and the dimples beside his pursed lips: namely, the sheer number of guys hitting on Cas.

It's not like Dean can blame them. Cas' muscular frame is wrapped in black jeans and a tight black t-shirt bearing the Led Zeppelin 1975 tour logo. The short sleeves show off the floral tattoos trailing down his left arm. Cas is wearing a rainbow-coloured enamel belt buckle and, because he's determined to be the death of Dean, black cowboy boots. Before they'd left, Dean hadn't been able to resist grabbing a black kohl pencil and smudging a little along Cas' upper and lower lashes. And, okay, maybe Cas' wide-eyed bewilderment every time he's flirted with is vaguely amusing. But when Dean is right here? Not cool.

Right on cue, here's another one. From over his husband's shoulder, Dean levels his very best glare at the guy. It's a look that can stop a demon dead in its tracks. A vampire would tremble. A werewolf would wet itself. But one young gay guy with a few drinks in him? Totally unaffected. Like the others, he's all smiles and understanding when Cas politely, if awkwardly, waves him away. (Literally. With a final dorky little wave goodbye.)

Dean realises that he's moved his right arm around Cas' waist, so now Dean is wrapped around Cas like some kind of koala/octopus hybrid. An octoala? A koctopus? Definitely koctopus. Heh.

Dean snorts at the thought, which is somewhat unfortunate, given that his face is right next to Cas' ear. Cas flinches and turns his head around to fix him in a squinty glare.

"Koctopus?" Dean says, apologetically.

Cas narrows his eyes further and tilts his head to the side.

"Um, the way I was wrapped around you. I was like a cross between a koala and an octopus."

Dean nudges Cas. "So what does that make me? C'mon, you know you wanna say it."

Cas just tilts his head a bit further to the side, either in confusion or outright despair. Dean has untangled himself from Cas and stepped back, and looks down at the ground, suddenly self-conscious.

Dean feels Cas' hand on his shoulder, and then it smooths over his back, finding the back of his neck underneath the boa. Whatever his shape, Cas' touch has the exact same effect on Dean. He looks up into the impossibly blue eyes of his husband.

"You're a very glittery," Cas begins, softly, "and very beautiful," one corner of his mouth lifts, and then he purses his lips together, trying to hold back the smile, "koctopus."

The corners of his eyes are crinkled. He's not amused by the joke, Dean knows, just absurdly pleased to be saying something he knows will make Dean happy. Of course Dean knows that Cas loves him, knows the whole cosmic-realm-crossing magnitude of it, but in little moments like this, he's floored by it. Dean can't help his sudden exhale or the massive grin that breaks across his face. He wraps his husband up in hug that they hold for a good long moment, before Dean leans back to kiss Cas.

No one had ever explained to Dean how difficult it is to kiss someone when you can't stop smiling. He'd never had that problem before Cas, but now it's practically a daily occurrence. It's a menace because kissing Cas is one of Dean's favourite pastimes. Now, they trade little pecks between wide, toothy grins, until passion takes over and the kisses become heavier.

It takes someone wolf-whistling for them to part, and then they're back to grinning and staring into each others' eyes, until Dean spots something on Cas' face. And something else. And something else. In fact, there's something all over Cas, and that something is gold glitter. It's on his face, his hands, his Zeppelin shirt, and even in his hair. Dean runs his fingers through the unruly curls - Cas has been wearing his hair longer lately - in an attempt to shake it out, but only deposits more glitter into Cas' locks.

"Oops," Dean says, "I kinda glitter bombed you there. It's all over your shirt, too. Sorry, Sunshine."

He doesn't sound terribly sorry.

"This is your shirt, Dean."

"Aw, man."

He does sound a little sorry now, but his future laundry woes are forgotten when Cas presses another kiss to his pouting lips. They're forgotten again when something across the crowd catches Dean's eye.

"Oooh," Dean exclaims as he drags Cas towards the stall he's spotted.

It's selling cowboy hats in every configuration of colour imaginable, and Dean is practically jumping on the spot excitement. Cas looks his husband up and down, slowly.

"You think your outfit's lacking accessories?" he deadpans.

"Yup," is Dean's gleeful reply, "and so's yours."

Cas' groan is lost to the noise of the crowd and the beat of the music, so no-one will ever know if it was one of protest or defeat. He does, in fact, end up wearing a black cowboy hat with a rainbow band, so if it was protest then it was highly ineffective. Dean's has a pink crown, purple band and blue brim, and he's carrying another black one with a band in the non-binary flag colours for Jack. Cas admits that Jack's going to love it.

"Damn, this is awesome," Dean says as they head back to meet up with the rest of their family.

Walking hand in hand with Cas, Dean's thoughts wander. Dean could kick his younger self for every time he'd called someone gay or a girl as a way of saying they were weak. Because all he can see in the people around him is strength. He grins again, giddy with the atmosphere of defiant joy. All around him is everything he'd spent his life fighting to protect: freedom, family, and love. Holding his husband's hand a little tighter, he's grateful that in the end he gets to have both: freedom and peace.

[castiels-slinky]

Hey, do you ever think that Jack continues to accidentally reveal their real age? Maybe even that they’re G-d? Like, It’s cute. Idk.

Karen: “How old do you think you are?” Jack: “I’m three! :D”

or

Karen: “G-d doesn’t want this? What would He Think About This (tm)” Jack: “Oh, I don’t mind! ^^”

Like please someone write this. If y’all won’t I will but I hate being first.

[reign-writes]

Title: It’s They Now

Author: ReignWrites

Rating: General Audiences

Tags/Warnings: Canon Related, Post-Canon, Non-Binary Jack Kline, Coming Out, AcceptanceFamily Fluff, Fluff, Family Feels, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, POV Jack Kline

Summary: Jack Kline comes out as non-binary to their family.

Word Count: 635

Chapters: 1/1

Link to the fic in AO3: HERE

[angelofthequeers]

That Red Skirt

Disclaimer: I don’t own SPN.

Spawned from this thread. I already made a post for @some-angelic-flowers and @gabrielsbackbitches, but then I figured why not write them a fic? I also thought that @i-miss-balthazar might appreciate a tag as well!

Summary: When Jack realises on a shopping trip that he’s non-binary, leading to a confrontation with a stranger who can’t mind their own business, Dean starts to have a few realisations of his own. And his angel is there to save the day and provide answers and comfort as Dean ends up knee-deep in working out stuff he’s repressed to be John Winchester’s Perfect Son. Sam’s just a little shit but then, when isn’t he? At least the overgrown moose is accepting as well.

AO3 link here

It’s not that Dean’s ashamed exactly. Sure, he doesn’t go around telling people that he likes doing “womanly things”, as John called them whenever young Dean dared to bring them up. It’s clear as day to people who actually know him that he likes cooking and looking after his home and taking care of others – all “womanly things” according to John – but he doesn’t exactly like to parade it around.

At first, it was because John expected him to be the perfect son; “If I wanted a daughter then I would’ve had one,” had been his exact words on many an occasion, until Dean had learned to hide it all under layers of exaggerated manliness. That’s not to say that Dean’s not manly at all…just not to enough of a degree for John’s liking. Hell, probably not to enough of a degree for most men’s liking, judging by all the ‘guy humour’ he’s heard about women “belonging in the kitchen” and “taking care of the breadwinner”.

So he likes to indulge in taking care of people and his home without the need for violence. Sue him. He doesn’t think he’s too ashamed of it anymore, but he just doesn’t see any conversation to slide this information into, or just any people who he’d feel safe enough to tell. Sam and Cas wouldn’t give a fuck for sure – their appreciation of his cooking makes that blatantly clear, although he could do without Sam’s occasional comments about knowing how to do the perfect load of laundry despite having relied on laundromats all his life – but that still involves having a conversation about it. And if there’s one ‘manly’ thing that Dean’s good at, it’s avoiding talking about his feelings.

Actually, that’s probably more from years of trauma and childhood neglect. But whatever.

Dean has always thought that this inner conflict would come to a head in a bar somewhere. A finished case, a bit too much beer, he’d get hit on by some creepy asshole who thinks he’s “pretty” with his “princess lips” and “candy apple eyes” – because apparently even when he’s pushing forty, he’s still pretty enough to get hit on by creeps – and then drama would ensue when he says no. A homophobic slur here, an insinuation about being a girl there, finished with either a nice bar fight or storming off, then Sam’s following attempt at a conversation. According to Charlie years ago, it’s a popular trope in gay fanfiction and usually ends up in hot sex between the two guys, with a lesson about accepting yourself and blah blah whatever.

But no, Dean’s apparently too good for fanfiction tropes, because his moment of epiphany is still dramatic but much less macho manly bar fight. He’s out shopping with Jack one afternoon, since they’re in dire need of food supplies due to being down to a tablespoon of shitty instant coffee, a few slices of mouldy bread, a pack of nearly-expired bacon, and condiments that will probably only make that mouldy bread even worse. Thank god the hunters from the other world are gone now, out inhabiting the other Men of Letters chapter houses around the country so that they’ve got a web across the US. It might be horrible of Dean to feel this way but really, a home invasion was the last thing conducive to recovering from Michael’s possession.

So, anyway. He and Jack have filled the cart with food and are now preparing to brave the clothing department of Walmart, only because Dean had decided that it might be nice for Jack to have more than a few shirts and pairs of jeans for himself. He makes a beeline for the men’s jeans and picks out the first pair he finds in Jack’s size.

“Simple but decent when it comes to hunting,” Dean says, turning to show Jack. “About as tough as you can get for this price – the fuck did you go, kid?”

Jack’s nowhere to be found. Heart starting to race, Dean dumps the jeans and heads off in search of the human naphil, because Cas is going to have his ass for days if he loses their kid. He’s still not adjusted to being with Cas, especially with a kid between them (and between Sam too, but he’s firmly not involved in this Dean and Cas equation), but apparently letting a homicidal archangel possess you while the love of your life pleads for you to not make such a dumbass move is catalyst enough to really get things rolling.

In any case, he knows for sure that he’s going to be in the shithouse if he loses Jack, so he navigates the clothing department with all the grace of a giant tortoise whose shell is made of fraud-funded food. Jack’s nowhere in the men’s department, so Dean checks the kid’s department in case he’s started having a ‘one-year-old in the body of a twenty-year-old’ crisis, but he’s not there either.

“Dean!”

Dean whirls at the sound of Jack’s voice calling his name. He locates Jack in the women’s department, standing next to a rack of discount skirts, and he struggles on over.

“They’re so pretty!” Jack says in awe, running his hand over a white, flowy skirt that looks to be about mid-thigh length.

“Don’t run off on me like that!” Dean snaps, mostly to avoid having to crush the light in Jack’s eyes as he pulls out a long red split skirt to examine it. “Cas would fuckin’ kill me if I lost you. You know how much of a passive aggressive dick he can be.”

The lady at the rack nearby tuts, which Dean assumes is at his foul language. He shoots her a winning smile, but she just tuts again and looks away, so he shrugs and turns back to Jack.

“I’m sorry, Dean,” Jack says, his mouth drooping as he puts the red skirt back. “I didn’t mean to make you worry. I just went looking for stuff I’d like, and I found this section and – Dean, look at how pretty these skirts are!”

“They’re for chicks, Jack,” Dean says, painfully aware that Cas is probably going to kill him for instilling human gender roles in their son who’s pretty much a toddler with adult intelligence.

“But why?” Jack says and runs his hand over the white skirt again. “Why do humans insist on assigning gender to pieces of cloth?”

“Okay, for one, you’re human to everyone else, so you might wanna tone down on that alien talk,” Dean mutters. He shoots a look at the lady out of the corner of his eye, who’s so thoroughly invested in the table of T-shirts that it’s obvious she’s eavesdropping. “It…just is, okay? Guys wore skirts ages ago, now they don’t. Shit changes.”

This coming from the guy who likes to wear pink panties makes it incredibly hypocritical. He knows that. But there’s a difference between a sexy kink and just outright wearing women’s clothing every day, and Jack doesn’t seem to be getting it. Dean’s just going to conveniently ignore how the fact that he likes wearing panties is waving its hands to get his attention, like there’s a ground-breaking revelation to be had if he examines it further.

“I don’t understand,” Jack says. “If it’s comfortable then why not wear it?”

“Because you’re not a chick. You’re a guy.”

Jack just frowns as though these are foreign words. “But how do I know that I’m a guy?” he says. “I met someone when I was off training my powers who told me that when he was born, everyone assumed he was a girl because of his body, but he wasn’t a girl. How do I know that that’s not me?” 

“Do you feel like you’re a girl?” Dean’s too sober right now. And he’s totally not equipped to handle a conversation like this. Cas is better suited, what with his utter disregard for human gender roles.

“I don’t know!” Jack clutches the skirt, no doubt to stave off the distress spreading across his face. “I like things that people call “womanly”. I like cooking with you and caring for other people just like you do. I like feeling pretty sometimes. I don’t like people thinking that I have to be tough and “manly” and not interact with my emotions just because I was born with a certain set of genitals.”

The woman nearby outright winces, so Dean turns to her with a fake smile plastered on his face.

“Is there a problem, ma’am?” he says. She dithers, like she’s torn between speaking her mind and admitting that she was eavesdropping on another person’s conversation.

“No,” she finally says.

“Good.” Dean turns back to Jack. “Look, kid, I can’t help you there.”

“But you like things that society designates as “womanly”,” Jack says. “Yet you’re comfortable in your masculinity.”

Dean sighs and draws Jack away from the nosy woman. Jack brings the white skirt with him, and Dean’s seriously thinking that he’s going to have to buy the damn thing just to shut Jack up.

“I just don’t understand,” Jack insists.

“Look, kid, I don’t either,” Dean says. “And any time I tried anything, my dad kicked my ass for it. I…don’t want that to happen to you.”

“I appreciate your concern, Dean,” Jack says with that soft little smile of his. “But you and Sam have taught me how to take care of myself. I might only be human now, but I’m sure I can handle negative opinions if I’m not hurting anyone. And I know that you wouldn’t “kick my ass for it”.”

For a moment, Dean sees himself in Jack; his younger self, so fresh and idealistic, unaware of just how horrible a place the world was. He’s got one vague memory from before Mary’s death of her painting his nails for him because he’d seen the bottle of blue polish and wanted to “look pretty like Mommy”, only to result in one of the worst fights between John and Mary about “turning their son gay” while Dean huddled in bed crying.

In that moment, he vows that Jack will never know that pain. He’s never going to be that parent that forces a tonne of bullshit on his kid because everyone else thinks he should. He’s already raising the one-year-old grown-up son of Satan in a hunter life with his angel boyfriend, so there’s literally nothing about this that’s normal in any way. No way is he going to squash that light in Jack’s eyes that John had squashed out of his.

“Fine, whatever,” Dean says. “Get the skirt if you want.”

Jack’s face lights up, and he throws his arms around Dean while thanking him over and over again. Dean pats him on the back, praying that the kid doesn’t suffocate him to death, and thankfully he’s given back control of his lungs after just a few more moments.

“Tsk.” It’s so quiet and barely there, but Dean’s trained ears pick up the reproach from the woman who totally hadn’t started inspecting the next table over just to stay within hearing range.

“You know, it’s rude to listen in on conversations you’re not part of,” Dean says with the most passive aggressive smile he can muster.

“And it’s wrong how you’re raising that son of yours,” the woman retorts. “Especially with your…boyfriend.”

Ah, so she’s one of those ones. Dean’s fake smile just widens. “Well, I don’t see it as any of your business, sweetheart.”

“You’re sending your child to Hell by encouraging him to live in sin!” the woman says. “How can you say it’s not any of my business when I’m concerned for the poor thing?”

“Dean and Cas have always taught me that I’ll never go to Hell if I’m a good person,” Jack says straight to the woman’s face. Ah, Dean’s so proud. “And I don’t see how wanting to wear a skirt makes me a bad person.”

“You gay and transgender people are wrong in the eyes of the Lord,” the woman says. Jack frowns.

“God doesn’t care about that.”

“Just back up,” Dean says. “You can’t argue with crazies like her.”

“She’s insulting you and Cas,” Jack says. “And me. I can’t just let her hate other people when she’s wrong!”

“You’ll never be able to prove it to her,” Dean says. “Trust me, kid, you could have God himself pop in and tell her she’s wrong and she’ll still insist that she’s right and he’s just “pandering” or whatever. They don’t actually give a shit about God. They just use that bullshit so they can act like they got a real reason to hate others rather than having to admit that they’re just assholes.”

“You people sicken me,” the woman spits.

“At least we’re here minding our own business and not going around scaring people into believing our fairy tale,” Dean says. He marches over to the skirt rack and, looking the woman straight in the eye, grabs the red skirt that Jack had also been eyeing. “And you know what? My son can have all the skirts he wants. Hell, I’ll even paint his nails for him. ‘Cause I wasn’t allowed to be pretty as a kid, so Jack’s gonna be the prettiest fuckin’ guy around. You capiche?”

The woman looks like Dean had whipped his dick out and started pissing right in front of her, but Jack looks like Dean had personally hung the stars just for him. Dean drapes the skirt in the cart and nudges Jack.

“C’mon, kid. You still need some good, strong clothes for hu – uh, work.” He wheels their cart back to the men’s section, leaving the woman stewing and Jack bounding along beside him, and he feels in his bones that he’s made the right decision as a parent.

***

For the next few weeks, Dean can’t shake off Jack’s words from their shopping trip. Every time he cooks, he finds himself examining his actions under a microscope, dissecting how much he enjoys cooking for his family and exactly how he feels about it. He does the same thing when tidying the bunker, even going so far as to dust the top of the bookshelves and use some new, tropical-scented shit in their laundry that quickly earns Sam’s seal of approval. And fussing over Sam after the guy had been stabbed by a rabid vampire on their hunt has him spaced out for the rest of the night as he reflects on just how much he mother-hens his brother.

It doesn’t take long for Cas to notice. But then, Cas always notices. However, he doesn’t bring it up until about a month after the Shopping Trip, as the incident has now been dubbed.

“What’s wrong, Dean?” Cas’ voice is thick with the sleep he doesn’t need but enjoys when he can cuddle with Dean all night. “You’ve been quiet for weeks now.”

Dean doesn’t say anything at first, instead running his fingers down Cas’ bare chest and stomach and feeling the muscles spasm under his touch. He can’t help but marvel that, for all his holy angelness, Cas is still so incredibly human in many ways, the biggest way being how he chose to willingly tie himself to a human in the way he’s with Dean.

“Is it about Jack’s skirts?” Cas says into the silence. “You’ve been quiet since then. But I think you were fantastic to buy him those skirts. I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen him so happy than when he came to show me how they look on him. The red skirt especially suits him.”

“How do I know that I’m a dude if I like chick things?” The question comes out so softly that human ears would have missed it. But Cas doesn’t have human ears.

“Is it really that important that you know?” Cas says. He sighs and shakes his head. “My apologies. That was insensitive of me to say. I just don’t understand humans and their insistence on assigning themselves boxes and roles based on physical characteristics.”

“Look, I know you can like some chick things and still be a dude,” Dean says. “Just like I know chicks who are into cars and other “guy shit” and they’re still girls. But…I dunno. It feels like I’m missing something when I say that.”

“How so?” Cas says.

“Just…somethin’ Jack said about how you know you’re one or the other.”

“It’s not necessarily that simple, Dean. There’s so much more than just one or the other.”

Okay, that makes Dean blink. He’s had some vague knowledge that this exists – how could he not, when assholes everywhere are raising up a stink about “snowflakes” or whatever -  but to actually have an angel of the Lord tell him that there’s more than just guy and girl makes his head spin.

“This may not be of any help, since I’m an angel,” Cas says, “but I’m not a man. You see me as such, since my body appears that way, and I’m utterly indifferent to what people call me so my pronouns don’t bother me. I’m not a woman either. I don’t even know if I am anything.”

“That’s literally no help at all,” Dean says. “Thanks, you just confused me more.”

“Eat me,” Cas mutters. Dean snorts at that, because he can always count on Cas to unintentionally lighten the mood. “Talk to me, Dean. Walk me through your thoughts. I don’t know exactly what to say right now.”

“My thoughts are a fuckin’ mess,” Dean says. “Mostly ‘cause this is shit I’ve been shutting down since I was a kid ‘cause you know Dad would kick my ass if I tried. I remember when I was four and my mom painted my nails ‘cause I wanted to be pretty and Dad pitched a huge fit.”

“You were a child,” Cas says. “Children have no concept of gender roles until they’re taught, whether directly or through emulation.”

“I like a lot of “chick” stuff,” Dean says, tightening his hold on Cas like the angel can protect him from his inner crisis. “I like cooking. And I get that a lotta famous chefs are guys but…this is different. It feels more...domestic. I like keeping the bunker tidy ‘cause…it’s home, y’know? I’ve never…had a home before Baby. I just…like things to be nice. I like looking after others. I like listening to Taylor Swift and I’m kinda getting into Ariana Grande.”

The words are spilling out of him like an avalanche as he bares his soul for the first time ever to possibly the only person who would never judge him. As much as he loves Sam, his little brother’s also grown up under the reign of John Winchester, and Sam might be a softer and more emotional guy but he’s still got a lot of shit of his own.

“Sometimes I get sick of bein’ tough and strong and manly,” Dean babbles, burying his face in the crook of Cas’ neck as the deep stuff starts to uncontrollably emerge from years of lock and key. His eyes begin to sting and his lungs are working overtime at this point, but the fingers that start to card through his hair provide a point of sensation that successfully helps keep it under control. “Sometimes I…I wanna be pretty. Like Jack does. I don’t wanna wear a skirt or anything but…I wanna be that four-year-old kid who wanted to wear nail polish like his mom and dress up with her and try to wear her heels but trip and fall flat on his face while she laughs. I wanna be that guy who knows how to braid his younger brother’s hair ‘cause he won’t get a fuckin’ haircut. I wanna wear those flower crowns that Jack makes without feeling like I’m a sissy or somethin’.”

Cas hums, still stroking Dean’s hair. “You can still be a man and enjoy those things.”

“That’s the thing,” Dean says rather bitterly. “That doesn’t feel totally right either. Like…I don’t feel like bein’ a guy fits if I do that stuff. Like if I let myself enjoy that stuff then…not that I don’t deserve to be a guy, but more like…” He fumbles for the right words, wishing he could just let out a long groan and have Cas understand from that, because that’s really the best way he can describe himself. “More like calling myself a guy doesn’t fully describe myself ‘cause…I’m kinda not. But I ain’t a chick either and it feels wrong calling myself that too. If that makes sense?”

“It does,” Cas says and kisses the top of Dean’s head. “I think an appropriate allegory in this case would be nationality. You humans have assigned a label to each other based on where you were born, and you act in different ways according to this label that you were forcibly given. And I’ve noticed how if someone moves to another country, they often face derision for not having been born there like everyone else, especially if they don’t look like the majority or their culture drastically differs from the place to which they move.”

That makes sense. How many times has Dean heard jokes about American stereotypes? Or shitty comments about people based purely on ideas that other people have about where they were born and lived?

“Nationality isn’t anything tangible. It’s more of a feeling and a mutual culture based on shared experiences. And there aren’t just two nationalities or two experiences. There are so many more; some are similar to each other and some are totally different.”

“Nice soapbox,” Dean quips to hide how his head is spinning at this wealth of information. Does that mean that he can just…be neither? That he can let himself be pretty when he wants to while also being the cool tough guy he usually is, and…he can still be Dean? He doesn’t have to be a guy or a girl?

“It’s a very individual experience,” Cas says. “Mine is completely different to yours or Jack’s. That’s why it’s difficult for me to really find the right words for you.”

“Blame Jack,” Dean says. “He’s too pure for his own good. He’s corrupted me.”

“Dean,” Cas chastises. “Don’t talk about our son like that or I won’t sleep with you for a week.”

“You won’t last a week without my dick but sure,” Dean retorts. “So, like…do I have to call myself something since I’m not either? Tell the whole world? Start wearing spandex and dye my hair blue or something?” He looks up just in time to catch the biggest eyeroll Cas has ever given him, so he snickers and nips at Cas’ throat. He refrains from marking Cas up, knowing that if he does then Cas’ animalistic side will come out and he’ll get dicked six ways to Sunday. And while he normally wouldn’t ever turn down some good, hot sex with Cas, he’s also in the middle of an important conversation for which he wants a resolution.

Okay, wow, he’s been talking to Sam too much if he’s choosing a conversation about his feelings over hot angel sex. But it’s worth it, considering that he can feel the chains of another layer of John Winchester’s Perfect Son loosening from around him.

“You don’t “have” to do anything,” Cas says. “You’re still the same Dean Winchester I fell in love with.”

“Hey, whoa, whoa, don’t you dare bring that word up,” Dean protests, but he feels about ten times lighter with Cas’ affirmation that he doesn’t have to do anything different and can just keep doing his own thing while knowing this new thing about himself.

“Oh, shut up, Dean.” Cas immediately contradicts his annoyed tone by kissing Dean’s head again, so Dean decides to lean up and catch Cas’ lips in a proper kiss. Cas hums and cups Dean’s face and their kiss is slow and deep, with small nips and tongues swiping across mouths without dipping inside.

“No but seriously, is there a word for it?” Dean says breathlessly when they separate. “That bitch at Walmart said “transgender” but I don’t feel like that’s me. Others like me might but…not me. I’m still cool with this totally hot body and with people thinking I’m a guy just to make shit easier on everyone, ‘cause I at least know I’m…not.” It feels weird as fuck to say that out loud but also oh so freeing.

“Some might call you egotistical,” Cas mumbles. “It would be totally valid of you to call yourself that if you want, but I understand why you feel it doesn’t apply to you. I’ve heard the term non-binary before, when I was at a homeless shelter as a human and I met someone who referred to themselves as such. After I confronted a bigot and said that I’m utterly indifferent to my own gender, the other person confided in me and non-binary was the term they used. You could try that and research further from there.”

“But…I don’t have to if I don’t want to?” Dean says. Don’t get him wrong, having an actual word that encapsulates him is just…wow. Holy shit. He’s real, he’s allowed to exist, and there are others who are not only like him but also open enough about their identities that other people can find this information and realise shit about themselves too. But he’s literally only just started coming to terms with shit he’s locked deep for the past few decades, so he’s not yet sure if he’s ready to start labelling himself and being so open about it until he’s had more time to work through it.

“Of course not,” Cas says. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. Just because Jack feels comfortable enough to wear skirts doesn’t mean that you ever have to as well. I told you, it’s highly individual.”

“Jack’s non-binary too?” Dean says. “I mean, I ain’t surprised, but…”

“We had a conversation. He told me that you said he should come to me, since you weren’t equipped to talk about it. He also said that he didn’t mind if I told you and Sam, so I won’t ever tell anyone else about you unless you allow me to do so. That would be rude and horrible and downright violent if the wrong person learned that when you didn’t want them to.”

Okay, that’s another weight off Dean’s shoulders. “Like tellin’ others that I’m bi, right? It’s for me to tell.”

“Precisely. And I’m very proud that you felt comfortable enough to tell Sam, Jack, and Mary.”

“I had a crisis back in Purgatory when I was lookin' for you.” Dean kisses Cas’ shoulder and snuggles under his chin. “Then I had years after that to deal with it and work through Dad’s shit. But this is just…new. I think I need a bit more time.”

“You have all the time in the world, Dean.”

They lapse into a comfortable silence, and Dean starts to doze off at the feel of Cas stroking his hair despite having only woken up half an hour ago. But then something occurs to him, and it sets a cold pit of anxiety off in his stomach at the thought of voicing it out loud but…he also kind of wants to say it, if he’s still digging shit up from deep. And Cas won’t judge. This is the same guy who approves of their son wearing skirts.

“Cas?” Dean says. Cas hums in acknowledgement. “I…I just…shit, this is embarrassing.”

“If you don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to,” Cas says.

“No, I do wanna tell you. I just…bear with me, okay?” Dean pushes himself up into a sitting position so that he can look Cas right in the eye, and what he sees there helps loosen his shoulders ever so slightly. He takes a deep breath and blurts out, “Ilikewearingpanties.”

“Pardon?” Cas’ forehead creases.

“I. Like. Wearing Panties. This one chick, Rhonda Hurley…she made me wear them once. And I liked it. But that’s not even…look, it wouldn’t be so bad if it was just a kink, ‘cause loads of dudes – normal dudes – they like wearing women’s underwear too. But only during sex, ‘cause that can be hot.”

“You’re not abnormal for not being a “normal man”,” Cas says. “I know there’s a term to refer to people who aren’t transgender, but I can’t quite recall it.”

“That’s not the point,” Dean says. “I just…nail polish and feeling pretty are one thing, okay? But actually liking pretty, lacy underwear outside of sex, where nearly anything goes…Jesus, Cas, if anything was gonna make me suspect I’m not fully a guy, that’s it. I even…” His voice drops to a whisper as he confesses something to Cas for which John would have probably broken his ribs. “I even like the thought of wearing a bra. Not ‘cause I need it, but ‘cause I wanna see if it’d make me look nice. And not “goddamn Dean you look so sexy and I wanna fuck you in those girly clothes” nice like other guys would think but…y’know, “Dean you look so soft and happy” nice.” His shoulders slump, and he looks down at his fidgeting fingers. “I just wanna be not-tough for once. I just wanna be pretty without feeling ashamed or like I’m a girl when I’m not. Or that I have to be more like a guy when I'm not exactly that either.”

“I’m not sure I see how women’s lingerie is much more of a deal breaker than other feminine things,” Cas says. “And although I understand why you do so, I wish you wouldn’t attach such shame to it.”

“Yeah, why do you think I felt okay telling you?” Dean mutters. Cas’ eyes crinkle and, with a small smile, he sits up so that he can lean in and kiss Dean softly.

“I’m honoured that you trust me enough to confide in me, even if I don’t understand your social taboos.”

“Again, why d’you think I told you? Sam wouldn’t make fun of me but…he’s also human. He also grew up in this shithole society. He wouldn’t get it like you do.”

Cas’ eyes soften even more, and he gives Dean another kiss. “Maybe you could wear some of this clothing in a non-sexual situation with just the two of us,” he says. “No one else. Or if you would feel more comfortable without me, you could do it yourself.”

“Trust me, dude, I’d be a tonne comfier with you there so I don’t end up spiralling and shit,” Dean says with a dark little laugh. “Just ‘cause I realised all this shit now doesn’t mean I’m cool with it or anything.”

“Like I said, you have plenty of time. Use however much of it you need to become more comfortable with yourself. And you’ll always have my support, Dean. And Sam, Jack, and Mary’s, when you feel that you can tell them.”

A wide smile of relief splits Dean’s face and he pushes Cas to lie back down, then drapes himself on top of the angel. “You’re the best, man. You’re a literal angel.”

“I know. I have the halo to prove it,” Cas deadpans. The fact that Cas has finally grasped things like sarcasm after years of fraternising with humans is possibly the funniest thing Dean’s encountered all day, and it takes a humongous effort to just snicker rather than descend into a fit of laughter.

“I’ve changed my mind,” he says, pushing Cas’ chin back to start kissing down his throat. “You’re the biggest asshole around.”

“You –” Cas cuts himself off with a hiss when Dean nips at the skin over his pulse point, sucking to ensure that he leaves a dark bruise behind. “Dean, you know this – that this erodes my self-control –”

Dean gives him a shit-eating grin. “Good.” He bites again, only to blink as the world around him shifts and blurs when Cas grabs him by the hips and bodily throws him back on the bed, then straddles his hips, blue eyes blown black.

“If one thing about you never changes, it’s how infuriating you are,” Cas growls.

“Yeah, but you like me anyway,” Dean says, grin widening. Cas rolls his eyes.

“Sometimes, I wonder why.”

“Hey.” Dean runs his fingers down Cas’s stomach and dips a finger below the waistband of his white boxers. “Less talking, more kissing.”

***

“Dean, you look like you’re gonna puke,” Sam says when Dean corners him after breakfast the next day. “What’s wrong?”

Dean swallows, takes a deep breath, then decides to just go for it. He doesn’t want to have to spend ages hiding something like this from his brother when he can have another person supporting him, especially after everything he and Sam have been through. “I’m not a guy, okay?”

“Uh…what?” Sam frowns. “You’re…uh, wow, that is big. Are you –”

“I’m not a girl either,” Dean rushes to say. “I’m…neither. And kinda both. But mostly just neither. Cas calls it non-binary but I dunno what to call myself yet. If I even wanna call myself anything at all.”

“Huh,” Sam says. “You know, I always knew you were bi, but I never even suspected you weren’t cis.”

“Cis?”

“Not trans.”

“Oh, is that what it’s called? Cas couldn’t remember.” Dean blinks and points at Sam. “Wait, you know about this shit?”

“Of course I do,” Sam says. “The internet exists. And I thought I might not be a cis guy at one point, so I went researching, but I’m pretty sure I am. I did learn a lot, though. I know I don’t really care about gender when I’m into someone, but I have to be close to them to like them like that. That's why I'm so close to everyone I sleep with or get together with. I just never told you because you had your own stuff to deal with.”

“Fuckin’ nerd,” Dean mutters. Sam doesn’t even bitchface him this time, so Dean’s expecting some speech about how happy he is that Dean trusts him enough to confide him and whatever.

“Does that mean you’ll finally braid my hair for me?” Sam says with a smile so innocent that it’s dripping with guilt. Dean rolls his eyes and flips his brother off, then promptly regrets it when the moose turns all touchy-feely and pulls him into a hug.

“Fuck off, bitch,” Dean says into Sam’s plaid shirt.

“In your dreams, jerk.”