He knew he should focus on the fact that Dean considered him his boyfriend, but Cas sort of just felt like his feeling better for the day had gotten thrown in his face today. If Dean thought he was dating Cas, why would he step away when he was trying to be close to him? It was all so confusing and stupid. Dean was going to go away to college without him, because he'd flunked out by not doing anything because he got a little sad after his daddy abandoned him. Wah! What the fuck was he doing with his life? He groaned and pumbled his wall. Dean would be here soon. He had to calm down. The thoughts were coming back though. He wanted to cut. He saw the blood, and he felt the cool of the razor blade, and he could just feel the pain going away little by little. The lines were so pretty...
And the next thing he knew, he was in the bathroom floor with just his black shorts on. His back was on the cold tile, and his arm was above him, on his knee. He was steady, and making careful little lines this time, not gashes. Sure it was hot out, but he went out today! He wouldn't have to wear anything without sleeves for another month or two. 'Didn't matter much now. He breathed a sigh of relief, and let his head fall to the floor with a small thud.
"Cas?" He heard the call outside his balcony window. It was Dean. He soon realized that and began a large stream of foul words before muttering, "Fuck-" and then looking up at the bathroom door. He shot up from the ground, and grabbed his phone from on his bed. He called Dean. I was in the shower. I'll- I'll be out in a few minutes. The back door's unlocked. Come on up. Sorry about that."
He felt bad because it was dark out, and Dean had been waiting on him long enough that he'd went to the side yard. He sighed, knowing he was running out of time to grab Dean's hoodie from his room now too, to hide his newest gems. He slipped out the door and grabbed it, just as Dean peeked around the corner of the door way. It was a close call, but he tugged it on over his bare torso. The fabric stuck to his forearm. He hissed. "Can I just- two seconds, please." He shut the bathroom door behind him now and locked it, trying to find his wrap and his peroxide. "Fuck, fuck fuccckk-" He whined, and began the process. He was rushed, and the bandage was loose, but he returned to Dean more quickly than he'd anticipated, which was nice until he'd gotten any words from him.
Dean leaned back on the pillows, watching Cas closely. He looked good, there, relaxed in his bed. Cas wouldn't lie to anyone about that. It was undeniable, no matter your gender or preference there of. He sat down with him, and chewed on his bottom lip like he always did when he was nervous. He was afraid to try to touch him because he'd been denied earlier in the day. Dean whispered as he leaned closer to Cas, tangling into his limbs and speaking into the hair behind Cas' ear. It was intimate, but mocking. "I could've waited for you to finish showering. It's funny though. You know, Cas? Your hair isn't even wet."