A/N: Written for Supernatural Deserved Better Creation Challenge on tumblr by foundfamily4eva. Prompt: Dean is Bisexual
WARNING: This fic contains homophobia.
Dean knew he liked girls. He knew he wanted to maybe kiss one, or hold one. He just liked to talk to them, liked to see them smile, liked to make them laugh. He really, really liked girls. Yeah, it was middle school, but he was an eighth grader. That was old enough to start wanting to date. In his opinion, puberty was a perfect excuse for why he and other middle schoolers should start dating.
Every day when he came home from school, he'd talk about the girl who sat next to him in English, the girl who was his partner in chemistry. He'd talk about the girl who was across the room from him in his art class. She had even been his muse for a time, Dean drawing to imagery of blonde hair and ice blue eyes.
But there were the boys. Oh god, yep, there were the boys. Dean found himself getting distracted by staring at his friends when they didn't notice. They were… Dean didn't know what they were to him, but he couldn't draw his eyes away. He couldn't draw his mind away. One of his friends ended up replacing the blonde as his muse. He was all dark hair and bright eyes. Dean knew that they all still had baby faces to adults, but what he saw when he looked at that boy, he liked. He didn't know why, and his stomach started to hurt whenever he tried to take the time to find out.
After school, he talked about his friends: the boys he sat with at lunch, the ones who walked with him in the halls. It got to a point where they were all he could talk about, and Sam, being little, teased Dean about having a crush.
John just glared from across the motel room, and a chill went through Dean. It gripped his spine, and settled cold in his stomach. Their eyes locked, and Dean saw something stirring in them. Was it hatred?
He swallowed roughly, feeling all hot and tingly, blood rushing in his ears. He told Sam to knock it off and quit joking around like that.
But still, there were the boys. Dean couldn't stop looking. He couldn't stop spending time with them.
They're just friends, he told himself.
But when he saw some couples kissing by lockers in the hallway, he realized he wanted that. And a girl wasn't the first thing that popped into mind.
Nope. You can't do that.
Hell, did he even want to do that?
He'd never kissed anyone before, let alone a boy. Was that… was that what he wanted? To kiss another boy?
The thought was exciting, until something dark squirmed in his stomach. His skin tingled, like a field of electricity had captured him, and was holding him tight, telling him, No, no. This is who you have to be.
So Dean tried to focus on girls.
It didn't work. They were cute, and funny, and smart, and kind, but he wanted boys just as he wanted them.
Dean kept wanting both, kept liking both, thinking about both.
Yet, with his family, he talked only of the girls. And John gave him an affirming nod, as if he knew the thoughts Dean was battling off, as if he knew that he was working on fixing himself.
Dean wanted to fix himself.
He couldn't.
It wasn't till he was much older that the word for what he was whispered into the shadows of his mind. Dean was bisexual. And the road to realizing he didn't need to be fixed had begun.