[ He pauses, eyes falling closed with that proximity, but everything has him tensing up again at the thought, of the words Dean says as if it's not even occurred to him. Castiel doesn't want to look weak with those insecurities, the leery way he feels in regards to the angel being there at all. He'd almost been happy to know he'd disappeared, but now? Blue focuses almost intensely on Dean's face. ]

I don't like him. [ It's really that easy. ] That you want to get close to him is-- I don't like that either.

[ Which makes him sound indecisive. Which is envy at his very core, and it's the selfish notion that he doesn't have to share Dean with someone better in ways he could never be again that stings.

His hands move up, pushing through the short strands of Dean's hair to mold to the shape of his skull. It gets them relatively closer than any time before, and he struggles not to sink into it, wanting the heat and whatever reassurance that offers him. Even if it's warm in the room, he feels oddly cold. He doesn't look away from him. ]

If we use him, that's all it's going to be.

[ He's not going fight himself for the attention he's worked hard to get, and he doesn't care how it sounds. ]