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The light above them flickers, but every other one is still. The table is wooden, not a very dark wood, and stained with the leakings of coffee mugs held by thousands of hands. They both have equally mediocre meals with a side of fries so horrible they cannot be described.
There aren't many women at the diner, mostly guys. A pair of men in business suits chatting over brunch and huddled around a laptop. A "biker gang" — only 3 men — in leather vests with patches attached by their wives. A father and his daughter, visibly not connecting. Along the bar were middle aged men, single, not talking to each other. About half of them have wedding rings on.
There is also an incredibly attractive waiter. His hair is messy and gray gathers under his eyes and he looks like he damn well needs some of the coffee from the pot he's holding. He refills Dean's mug and as he walks away, Dean's eyes follow. His gaze wanders a bit low, even. He, of course, comes back to himself immediately, sipping on the top-up that just barely doesn't splash over the sides of the mug. Cute and generous.
Sam scoffs.
Dean ignores it, for peace of mind. He takes a bite out of his bacon egg and cheese breakfast sandwich.
"Anything new on the witch?" Dean gestures to Sam's computer with his middle and ring fingers, sandwich still in hand.
"Dude, seriously?" Sam sat with his arms crossed.
He stops chewing. Oh boy. "What, Sam, What is it?" His mouth is still full of food so lathered in butter it can't taste like much else, it'd be difficult to make out his words if you weren't him or Sam.
"You were checking the waiter out!" He throws up one arm in a dramatic, sit-com-like manner. "Literally full-on, no shame, eye-contact with the guy's ass. Right in front of me. I'm eating."
"Wha-?" Checking the waiter out? Dean doesn't check waiters out. He checks waitresses out. Sure, he was staring, and sure, he didn't really know why, but the guy just has nice jeans! Was he wearing jeans? "Sam," He drops his egg-and-cheese orthorexic's nightmare back on its plate and leans in, for emphasis. "I'm straight."
Sam snorts. Snorts! "Yeah, sure, Dean. I haven't believed that since the seventh grade."
"What's this about all of a sudden, Sam, why are you calling me gay-"
"I'm not calling you gay, Dean," Now they're both leaning in. "I'm saying its obvious your not only into women so just get over yourself and accept it." He's whispering. Likely for the sake of Dean's manliness, and so the waiter doesn't hear, but it's an aggressive whisper. "You're probably bisexual."
"Well why do you get to.. to diagnose me with that? What do you even know about gay people?"
"What do I-?" Sam takes a deep breath. Like he's afraid his words will get stuck in his throat, like that moment when you're vomiting and everything freezes and you think you might die. "Dean, I'm non-binary." It's spit out like fire-breath.
Dean squints. He looks around waiting for a tool-tip to pop up. "Non-whosawhatsit?"
"Not-" It came out aggravated. It might've come from the mouth of someone trying to get used to speech again after not talking for a long time. He closed his eyes and tried again. "Not a man or a woman." He's tapping his foot under the table and his arms are back crossed. "There's a more specific label for it, for me at least. Neutrois. It's kind of.. null."
Not a man or a woman. Dean's eyes dragged up Sam's outfit. Sam's hair. His brain dragged him back to childhood — and that means dragged, he scraped at all the flesh and skull he could get his hands on while he was pulled back — letting "not a man or a woman" explain a lot of things.
Yeah, that makes sense.
"What, and you just never told me?"
"There were always more important things to worry about. It's not like I knew there was a word for it in middle school. Just assumed I was weird."
They avoid each others eyes.
"You are weird." A cop out, maybe. Why do you care?
"You're weird."
The waiter walks by again and Dean tries, god he tries, not to stare. But he just has a really nice… pair of jeans.
"Sam, I think you might be right."
"I know I'm right, now hurry up and eat, we're busy."