Pizza man

I prefered it when you were calling me 'sir'

The man chuckled: "I prefered it when you were calling me sir,"
Dean looked a little flustered, "Uh, sorry...sir" Dean ran his hand over his chin not moving his eyes from the gun. The man weighed it in his hands a little and then placed it back in the back of his waistband, Dean swallowed nervously.
"I'm a quick draw." He warned, his smile disappearing.
"Okay." Dean squeaked. The man's smile had returned, he liked the effect he was having on the teen. Now that he stood in the light Dean could see him more clearly, He was dressed in an purple suit with smart black shirt...it looked expensive, His messy hair and sparkling blue eyes only complimented his eccentric dress sense. Then there were the gloves, white; totally pristine. Dean felt a little under dressed in his jeans and pizzarea shirt the logo perching insultingly on his left breast pocket, under dressed for what though? - He was delivering a pizza. He fiddled with the end of his t-shirt hem timidly, the man just wouldn't stop staring into his eyes, reading him and grinning manically. He looked away, avoiding the confrontation. He felt naked in this man's prescence.
"Now, you took precisely..." he stepped closer to his prey and checked his watch, Dean was frozen. "Thirty eight minutes and... twelve seconds to arrive." He placed his hand on Dean's shoulder man handling him over to the chair in front of him and then pacing up the dining room and resting his hands on a chair. "Now usually, being a crime lord and all, I'd have killed you. However, there's something about you, Dean, that I like. Maybe it's your pretty green eyes, maybe it's your adorable tendency to play with your clothes when nervous, maybe it's -"
"I like to think it's because of my perky nipples." Dean said sarcastically under his breath.
The man tilted his head and narrowed his eyes "Don't interupt." Dean looked startled - how did he hear that? "Anway, a reputation's a reputation. And so," The man slammed his hands on the table. "You won't be leaving... Alive."
Dean gulped. "Gees, I mean... I'm really sorry about being late and all but... that's a bit harsh." he said, stumbling over the words. "Please don't kill me man, I've got...a wife...and kids."
"Really Dean? Are you sure that's the angle you're going for."
Dean nodded, unsure.
"Hmm, You know how I feel about lying. How sure? Sure enough that you won't feel bad about the threat of punishment if that's not the case. Are you telling me the truth Dean?" The man said casually twiddling his pen. Dean bit his lip.
"No,"
"No, what?"
"Uh.." Dean looked at the pizza box, searching for the name on the receipt. "No, Castiel." Dean said, nodding. "Gee that's really a mouthful isn't it." Castiel raised an eyebrow. "Sorry,"
Castiel nodded but still seemed a little annoyed that Dean hadn't called him 'sir', although he was really enjoying the sight of Dean worrying his lower lip again.
"You said I won't be leaving 'alive'..."
"Yes, I did didn't I." Castiel said absently. He was hot and then cold, Dean just didn't get him. One minute it's 'leave and I'll kill you' ten minutes later he doesn't give a fuck. Dean waited for him to continue and when he didn't he swallowed and continued himself. "Does that mean I'm staying?" Castiel grinned,
"We'll see pretty boy. You as tough as you look?" Castiel revealed that the 'pen' he'd been fiddling with was in fact a knife, Dean gasped in shock as Castiel dragged it across his own skin and then headed towards Dean, who was frozen in his chair. He was terrirfied, what kind of sick shit was this guy into? Oh god, he shouldn't have had that fag, he shouldn't have taken this delivery, he shouldn't have taken the job, he should have tried harder at school... Crap. Castiel was getting closer. He was smiling again, it would have been endearing if he hadn't been wielding a sharp object. "Don't move Dean." Castiel warned through his grin as he dragged the tip of the knife across Dean's forearms, Dean was gripping the arms of his chair. His knuckles white with fear. The knife made it's way up to Dean's jaw, Dean was gritting his teeth- Castiel was mad, utterly twisted...and terrifying.
"Good boy," Castiel murmurred. "Such a good boy." He put the knife into his pocket and gently caressed Dean's cheek. "There's something that I need to take care of. " He said abruptly. "Don't move," he warned, not looking back as he left the room. Dean heard his shoes on the marble and a door slamming and locking. He let out the breath he was holding and panted for a few seconds. Anxiety taking over the adreneline, he needed a few moments to get his mind back.
He'd been mugged before, he'd fought opponents far more physically imposing than Castiel... Novak. He checked the Pizza box. "Castiel Novak." He tried it out, sounded innocent enough. But physical imposition wasn't the problem here, Castiel was intimidating in other ways, something about him paralysed Dean. Petrified him. The crooked smile, barely concealed malicious desire, predatory smile. Dean felt like a rabbit in headlights, utterly immobolised in the prescence of the madman. Once he'd finished freaking out he realised that he was losing vital time, he needed to get out of here. And quick. He surveyed the room from his chair, what did Castiel mean 'don't move' from the chair? From the room? How long would he be gone? Was there a clock in here? Dean looked around, the light from the window was fading and if he wasn't careful soon the room would be totally engulfed in darkness and Dean hated the dark.