Dean laughed a bit. "Yeah, figuring out what it is first sounds like a good idea," he agreed, rinsing the suds out of his hair and rolling his shoulders a little bit. Looking up at Sam, after his hair was washed thoroughly, he smiled a bit at that whole lack of regret thing. He didn't regret it either, but he did feel guilt, and he supposed now they were being this honest, he couldn't just not mention it.
"Well, I guess I've got enough guilt for the both of us. I mean, dude, you're my little brother, I figure even at this age I'm supposed to look out for you. But this -- whatever it is -- this isn't 'looking after Sammy'." It was something he knew John would beat him black and blue for, not that John was ever abusive like that, but Dean would deserve that lashing. Even so, Sam was thirty, he should be able to look after himself, but Dean never could put down that role.
Grabbing the soap, he handed it over to Sam first, crossing his arms over his chest. "But if it feels good, and we're happy, I guess it's nobody's business but our own. Question is, do we keep at it, or are we gonna just chalk it up to all the crap we've put each other through since I got back?"