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It happened unexpectantly, over a burger and a salad in some nameless diner in a nameless town somewhere in Wyoming. Dean was staring at Sam, one eyebrow raised, his burger stuck in the air, halfway to his mouth.
“What?” Dean asked, putting down the burger again, and tried to figure out how Dean complaining about the traffic had somehow ended with Sam saying that he was… Dean didn’t think he’d ever heard the word before, and he sure as hell didn’t know what it meant. And he couldn’t imagine what it had to do with pronouns.
Sam sighed and rolled his eyes. “I’m genderqueer, and I use he/they pronouns.” He repeated, but that didn’t help any. Dean still had no idea what he was talking about.
“What?” Dean wondered if asking again would get him anywhere. It didn’t, it only made Sam put on one of his many bitchfaces. It wasn’t particularly out of the ordinary, as it was Sam’s favourite way to communicate to Dean that he was doing something wrong, but it was still weird. Sam had been acting weird all morning, shifting around nervously and glancing at Dean as if he was expecting him to suddenly grow two heads or something. It hadn’t occurred to him that Sam was nervous because he wanted to tell Dean something. Something he still didn’t know the meaning of.
“What? I literally have no idea what you’re trying to tell me.”
Sam put down his fork, folding his arms on the table. “I’m genderqueer.” He said for the third time. “That means I’m not a man. I’m also not a woman. I’m somewhere in between, and that’s why I use different pronouns.” Sam was talking to Dean as if he was interacting with a toddler, and honestly, he kind of felt like it. He understood on a surface level, knew what Sam was trying to tell him, but he didn’t understand. But really, did he have to? If Sam told him that he wasn’t a man, then Sam wasn’t a man, who was he to tell him he was wrong about it. Dean didn’t have to get it, he only had to accept it.
It took a few seconds for Dean to stop staring at Sam, but eventually, he shrugged and picked up his burger. “Okay, good to know.”
This time it was Sam who raised an eyebrow. But he also relaxed, his shoulders sagged down in relief and he smiled slightly. “You’re just… okay with it?”
“Yeah, sure.” Dean reassured him, mouth full, making Sam roll his eyes again. And then, suddenly, Sam was fidgeting. “And you? Do you want to tell me something?” Sam asked, and Dean frowned. What the hell would he have to tell?
“What?” Dean started feeling repetitive. Sam just shook his head. “Never mind.”
In the next big city, Dean went and bought Sam a trans flag.
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Years later, again over a burger and a salad, Dean blurted out. “I’m bisexual.”
Sam stared at Dean, trying very hard not to laugh in his face. “Yeah, I know. You’re married to Cas.”
Dean looked down at his burger. “Just figured, I never said that aloud before, so why not tell you.”
“Thanks for telling me then.” Sam said, chuckling. “I’m proud of you.”
A few days later, Dean found a bi flag in his room.