Work Text:
“I’m not wearing the fucking hat.”
Steve crosses his arms over his chest and stares down his new boss. He’s not going to budge on this. It’s a deal breaker. And like, fine, ok, the uniform isn’t that bad. He gets to wear whatever jeans he wants, and the yellow t-shirt isn’t exactly the right shade to compliment his complexion, but he can handle it. He’s had worse. But he doesn’t care that this is his seventh job in eight months, he’ll quick right fucking now if has to wear-
“No problemo, my good man. It would hide your best feature anyway.”
Steve blinks at the guy…Gargoyle? No…Argyle…and drops his arms. “Thank you! See?” he asks, turning to his best friend and gesturing like a lunatic. “He gets it!”
Robin rolls her eyes and ties her mess of hair up on top of her head into an even bigger mess. She looks cute.
“So where do you want us?" she asks, cocking her head and putting her hands on her hips. She’s picking up too many mannerisms from Steve. He supposes that’ll probably happen when you work with the same person at job after job.
He wouldn’t have it any other way.
They couldn’t stand each other when they first met slinging ice cream at Scoops Ahoy. That sailor suit haunts his nightmares and he got reprimanded daily for not wearing the stupid little hat like he was supposed to. Robin ratted him out every time and he fucking hated her for it. The tension between them finally snapped when Steve brought a joint to work and Robin caught him smoking it in the walk-in on his lunch break. She promised not to be a narc as long as he shared it, and they ended up high as a couple of kites and accidentally came out to each other as they ate ice cream with their fingers and laughed their asses off.
They got fired that day for leaving the store unattended and contaminating the USS Butterscotch.
And they’ve worked together ever since.
Family Video lasted a few weeks. Steve never rewound the tapes because seriously, who cares? And Robin’s sweet tooth couldn’t be trusted near the racks of candy by the register. They also spent too much time sitting on the floor behind the counter tossing M&M’s into each other’s mouths and judging people.
Melvald's was a bust. Steve was always fucking up the prices on the little sticker gun thingie and Robin was constantly knocking over displays. The last straw was when she bumped into a shelf of pickles and sent about thirty glass jars crashing to the ground. Steve tried to help clean it up before the manager found out. He thought he heard something about using sawdust to help clean up puke spills and figured it wouldn’t be too different from pickle juice. But he couldn’t find any sawdust, so he improvised with a bag of flour. Turns out that just makes pickle glue.
They tried their luck at the mall again. Steve thought that Frederick’s of Hollywood would be fun and might help Robin get used to talking to pretty women more often. She was a stammering mess and couldn’t complete a sale to save her life. And Steve…well, he got a little too into trying on the panties.
The multiplex was a blast until they got caught sneaking all their friends in for free all the time and pocketing the money and cool shit they found in the seats after the theaters cleared out. Apparently there was some company policy about turning it in? They didn’t pay attention during training.
The last job they had lasted a day. Neither of them could figure out the Orange Julius machines - again, they weren’t exactly paying attention during training - and they somehow ended up sort of exploding one of them? Steve couldn’t get the smell of oranges off of his skin for days.
But hey. Seventh time’s the charm, right? Thankfully Surfer Boy Pizza didn’t seem to care about their spotty employment history. And now they’re learning the ropes and trying to figure out where their skills are best suited.
Turns out Steve is a little too bitchy to be working up front with customers, or taking orders on the phone. They try learning how to toss pizza dough, but every single one of Steve’s ends up on the ceiling. Robin’s somehow always get stuck all over her hands and she can’t get it off. They both burn the shit out of everything they put in the ovens. Robin is banned from topping the pizzas when she spends too much time trying to make them look more artistic. Steve thought her version of Starry Night made out of anchovies and peppers was pretty impressive, though. He tries his hand at doing the toppings too, but every time he sees a combo he thinks is gross and changes the order to something better, people get mad.
Eventually they find their groove. Robin’s put on the register, her big smile and chatty nature working well with the customers. And Steve is the delivery boy. So they’re not exactly working together since he’s in and out of the shop all night, but they’re employed at the same place and get to gossip between his deliveries, so that’s something.
On his first Friday delivery shift, he’s sent out with a stack of pizzas and a list of addresses. He ends up in the trailer park, where he’s never been before, and gets a little lost until he finds the right place. He hopes the pizza is still hot like the side of his big yellow van advertises.
Steve raps his knuckles on the door and waits a moment while he hears banging and thumping coming from inside, like a pack of baby deer are struggling to take their first steps. When the door opens, he’s face to face with Bambi eyes.
Seriously, it’s like this guy’s got a Disney princess thing going on with the big eyes and the long hair and the full lips. Except he’s kind of gangly and his cheeks are flushed, there’s a distinct smell of weed wafting out from behind him, and he’s wearing a Weird Al shirt with Garfield boxers and mismatched socks. There’s a hole in one of them and his big toe is sticking out.
He actually looks like a total loser.
Steve's dick twitches in his pants.
“Pizza delivery,” he says, holding out the box and flashing his best grin. “That’ll be twelve bucks.”
The guy is frozen in place for a moment, just staring at Steve with wide panicked eyes. The blush on his cheeks deepens and Steve watches his Adam’s Apple bob when he swallows. His hand trembles like a leaf when he holds out a twenty dollar bill.
God, he’s pathetic. Probably has a fat dick too, the scrawny guys always seem to be packing.
Steve plucks the cash out of the guy’s hand and before he can even say anything about getting him change, the box is being snatched up and the door quickly closes in his face. He smirks as he goes back to the van and breaks the twenty, pocketing his eight dollar tip. He really hopes he gets to deliver to this guy again.
The following Friday, he’s in luck. Bambi orders a large pizza, and Steve makes sure his hair is sitting just right before he gets out of the van in the trailer park. For good measure, he also applies just a little lip gloss that he swiped from Robin and pinches his cheeks for a little extra glow. Ladies pinch, whores use rouge, as his grandmother would always say. Not that he’s anywhere near a lady, but he’s definitely not slutty enough to be called a whore. Maybe. Probably.
When the trailer door opens this time, Bambi looks a little less startled. He’s wearing pants this time (boo) and a ratty old shirt with a hole near the collar. His hair is wet like he just got out of the shower and he kind of looks like a drowned cat.
Steve puts on his most charming smile and pops a hip. “Got a large pizza, hot and ready for you.”
The guy squeaks. He actually fucking squeaks like chew toy. His face flushes again and his eyes get even wider. He makes sounds like he’s trying to figure out what words are, doesn’t actually manage to get anything coherent out of his mouth, and he’s shoving the crumpled twenty at Steve while grabbing the box before scrambling behind his door again. Through the wood, Steve hears a muffled shout of “Thank you!” and then what sounds like the guy tripping over his own feet, followed by a few shit fuck shit’s.
“Still got it, Harrington,” he mutters to himself as he gets back in the van.
Later that night, he’s giving Robin a ride home when she asks, “Ok, I’m sorry, run me through it again?”
“I don’t know how to make it more clear, Robbie! He’s a loser and I need to fuck him!”
“God, you are so weird. How do you even know he’s gay?”
Steve gives her the bitchiest look he can muster while driving and keeping his eyes on the road. “Straight guys don’t blush when I smile at them. They don’t squeak when I lay on the Harrington Charm, and they definitely don’t stare at me like this guy does. You should have seen his face when he opened the door tonight, it was like his brain turned to mush.”
“Ok, you make some valid points. So what’s your plan then?”
“I’m going to aggressively flirt with him, and then hopefully get in his pants.”
Robin nods her approval. “I should do the same with Vickie, you know the girl who took over pizza toppings when my masterpieces weren’t appreciated? She looks like Molly Ringwald and I think she might be a little fruity.”
“Go for it, Buckley. All you have to lose is your pride.”
“I actually lost that when I got full-body douched with Orange Julius in front of half the town.”
“Well that settles it,” Steve laughs. “To getting laid?” He holds out a fist and Robin bumps it with her own.
“To getting laid!”
The next Friday has Steve back at the trailer park with his pathetic loser boy stammering and blushing again. This time he made sure to prop an arm up on the door frame to accentuate his bicep and maybe even flexed a little when Bambi’s eyes got glued to it. Fully committing to flirting his way into this guy’s pants, which are stained today with something that looks like mustard, Steve leans in and asks, “Did someone order a large sausage?”
The guy’s brow furrows and he speaks actual words for the first time. “Shit…I thought I ordered pepperoni. Um, that’s…it’s ok. My mistake.”
Again, Steve has a twenty shoved at him and a door closed in his face. This guy is an idiot. A complete fucking moron. Steve has got to sit on his dick.
Like clockwork, the next Friday he orders again and Steve is actually bouncing on his toes by the oven, waiting for this dumbass’s pizza to cook. The second it’s done and boxed up, Steve runs out the door with it, ignoring the other orders he needs to be delivering, and books it to the trailer park. He’s getting impatient and he’s not sure how much longer he’ll be able to handle not having this guy railing him.
The door opens and Bambi’s eyes go wide. “Damn. That was fast.”
Steve bites his bottom lip and drags his eyes up and down the guy’s body. His hair is wet again. He’s wearing Snoopy boxers and a Christmas sweater. It’s June. God, he's a loser.
“Well usually I like to take my time, but if I need to come in thirty minutes or less…I can get the job done.” It’s not his best work. But the wink when he emphasized come should drive the message home, right?
“Um. Ok. Thank you.”
A twenty, a snatched pizza box, a door closing in his face. Steve lets out a long-suffering sigh and heads to the van. When he gets back to Surfer Boy, they’re not exactly thrilled that he took off without the other orders, so now he has to scramble to get everything delivered. When he catches Robin on her break, they hide away in the bathroom so Steve can update her on the lack of progress with his loser boy.
“God, Steve…he sounds like a fucking idiot.”
“I know. I need him. How much more obvious can I make it?”
“Well…” Robin’s eyes scan down his t-shirt and snug jeans and she gets a devious smile on her face. Wherever this is going, Steve is certain he’s gonna love it
The following week he’s outside the trailer again. If this doesn’t get the message across, he doesn’t think anything will. Steve saunters up the steps and knocks on the door, and Bambi nearly chokes on his tongue. Steve’s not sure if it’s the tight cutoff jean shorts that are exposing his tan thighs, or the shirt he borrowed from Robin that’s a size too small. It’s riding up his waist and acting more as a crop top than anything, and his shoulders and chest are stretching the cotton to its limits. It’s not exactly adhering to the dress code put in place by corporate, but desperate times and all that.
“Uuuhhhhh,” Bambi says like an idiot.
“Hey there, handsome. I’ve got something hot for you.”
The guy gulps so hard Steve can hear it. He squeaks a little thank you and grabs the box, throws the twenty in Steve’s general direction, and once again slams the door in his face.
Oh hell no. He did not come to work with a plug in his ass for nothing.
Raising his fist, he repeatedly bangs on the door until it opens again to Bambi’s wide and terrified eyes. Hands on his hips and head cocked to the side, Steve just blurts out, “Do you want to fuck me or not?!”
Steve pushes his way inside and closes the door behind him, presses Bambi up against it and crushes their lips together. He lets out a muffled sound of surprise and just kind of stands there frozen until Steve grabs his jaw, pulls his mouth open, and licks inside. The guy groans, it’s really fucking loud, and turns to absolute putty in Steve’s hands.
Like literally, he goes boneless and Steve has to hold him up to keep his knees from buckling.
When he separates their lips, the guy slow-blinks at him like he’s drunk. Steve grins and looks around the trailer. They’re kind of half in the living room and half in the kitchen, but past the kitchen is a hallway, and presumably, a bedroom. He looks back at the blissed out face in front of him and asks, “Think you can make it to the bed, or am I gonna have to carry you?”
The guy fucking giggles and starts to step away from the door on wobbly legs. Bambi. He takes Steve’s hand and leads him down the hallway into a room that smells even more like weed. There’s shit everywhere, it’s a fucking mess, but he’s not here for the ambiance.
“Sorry, I uh…if I knew I’d be having someone in here…um…”
Steve shuts him up by fisting his stupid Star Wars shirt and pulling him in for a kiss. God, he’s a nerd too. Steve could cut glass right now, he’s so hard it hurts. Bambi melts into it, his hands hovering around Steve’s shoulders like he’s not quite sure what he should be doing. With a gentle push, he falls backwards easily, like a feather could have knocked him over, and bounces on the squeaky mattress. Steve makes a show of pulling his (Robin’s) shirt off, and Bambi lets out the most pathetic whine he’s ever heard.
Scrambling to catch up, the guy rushes to get his own shirt off and somehow gets stuck. He curses a few times as he struggles, until Steve takes mercy on him and frees him from his cotton prison. Bambi falls back onto the mattress and the only thing he has on now are the gray sweatpants that are doing absolutely nothing to hide the boner underneath. There’s a wet spot already forming where the guy’s dick is leaking and - is that a ketchup stain? Jesus Christ.
Steve pops the button on his criminally short shorts and is careful to pull the zipper down. He couldn’t wear underwear with these things and he’s not about to give himself an injury before he can even enjoy this. He makes sure to grab the condoms he brought with him from the back pocket, and tosses them on the bed. When his shorts fall to the floor, Bambi’s eyes are glued to his dick.
“Oh my god.”
Kicking his shorts off of his sneakered feet, Steve steps up to the bed and gets his hands on the waistband of Bambi’s sweats. “Can I take these off?”
He doesn’t answer verbally, but he fists the sheets and nods so hard and fast his hair kind of goes flying. And when Steve pulls them down and lets them pool around his ankles…
“Holy shit. I knew you’d have a fat cock.”
“Huh?!”
“Shh…just let me look at you.”
Steve drinks him all in, his frizzy hair splayed out on the messy sheets, his pale skin decorated with really shitty tattoos, his slender frame with…actually a surprising amount of muscle definition for someone so skinny. And that dick, Jesus. It’s fucking thick, nestled in an unruly patch of pubes that have probably never seen a trimmer, and Steve cannot wait to get it inside him.
He climbs up on the bed and straddles Bambi’s thighs, grabs a condom and quickly gets it rolled onto that fat cock. Bambi hisses and grits his teeth, his knuckles going white with how hard he’s gripping onto the sheets. But then he startles and his eyes shoot open.
“Wait! Shouldn’t I like…” He lets go of the sheet and wiggles a few fingers, giving Steve this questioning look.
“Aww,” Steve coos at him. “You’re sweet. I gotcha, though.”
Arching his back, he reaches behind himself and pulls the plug out. He sets it on the cluttered nightstand next to a full ashtray and dusty pack of condoms that look like they’re from the 70’s. Good thing he brought his own, yikes. He shuffles a bit to get in the right spot and grabs Bambi’s dick, looks him right in his blown out eyes, and asks, “You ready, big boy?”
The whine he gets in response is a good enough answer, and he starts to press down. It’s a fucking stretch, good lord. It takes him a minute to get himself fully seated and when he does, Bambi’s entire face is pinched and turning red. He’s breathing rapidly through his nose and it looks like he’s fighting for his life. And god, that cock…Steve’s in heaven, it’s so thick inside him.
He moans as he starts to rock his hips and he’s only just started to build up a good rhythm when Bambi starts babbling “Ohshitohshitohshitohshitohshit!”
His stomach tenses and he makes the most undignified grunting sounds before his body just goes limp. Steve stills his hips and looks down at Bambi’s sweaty face.
“Did you cum already?”
“Yep,” he squeaks. “It’s ok. Just. Keep going, you can keep going.”
Steve shrugs and figures why not. He might be able to still get himself off while this guy goes soft inside him. Except when he starts to move again, Bambi’s still rock hard. What the fuck. He plants his hands on the guy’s chest and starts to bounce. Fucking hell, his cock feels good.
“How are you still hard?” he pants as works himself faster in Bambi’s lap. “Oh my god your cock is amazing!”
Bambi finally opens his eyes and gasps when he looks up at the sight of Steve fucking himself on his fat dick. The hands that were fisting the sheets finally let go and he hovers them around Steve’s hips like he’s not allowed to touch.
“It’s ok,” Steve pants. “You can touch me.”
His hands are a lot stronger than Steve expected, holding him in a bruising grip. Shit, that’s hot. He hopes he has little purple fingerprints left behind. Steve’s starting to get close. His dick lands with a slap on Bambi’s stomach every time he slams himself down and smears precum into the hairs leading down to his bush.
“Can I…” Bambi takes a deep breath and bats his big eyes up at Steve. “Can I kiss you?”
“Honey, you’re fucking me. Of course you can kiss me.”
Bambi uses his grip on Steve’s hips to pull himself up to a sitting position and Steve is balanced precariously on his lap where they’re perched at the edge of the mattress. If this guy fucking drops him…
Arms snake around his waist and hold him tight. Plush lips are on his. And that thick cock is grinding up into him at just the right angle. Steve moans into his mouth and gets his hands in all that tangled hair. He could really use some conditioner. Bambi kisses him with zero finesse, shoving his tongue into Steve’s mouth without any rhythm or skill. Fuck, this might make him cum.
All too soon, that mouth is leaving his and trailing over his cheek and jaw and down his neck. Bambi latches on and Steve is the one to whimper for once as he sucks and bites a mark onto his skin.
“Harder,” Steve growls. “Fuck me harder!”
Using the springiness of the mattress to his advantage, Bambi manages to bounce Steve in his lap and thrust up into him faster and faster. He slides a hand down and grabs a fistful of Steve’s ass and that’s all she wrote. He tips his head back and cries out as his dick kicks between them, shooting a mess of cum all over their stomachs. Bambi holds him tighter, huffing and puffing into Steve’s neck as he fills the condom a second time.
Fuck. That was worth the wait.
They shudder through the aftershocks and Steve pushes at his head to get him to detach from his neck. Bambi falls back on the mattress with the dopiest look on his face. Steve pats his cheek and lifts himself off, letting Bambi’s now limp dick fall to his stomach. He grabs the guy’s shirt and uses it to wipe them both down and tosses the very full condom into an overflowing wastebasket.
Still wearing his pristine white Nike’s, Steve steps back into his cutoffs and pulls them back on, along with his (Robin’s) stretched out shirt. Bambi just lays there and watches him with a dumb smile and hooded eyes.
“That was fun,” Steve tells him. “Same time next week?”
Bambi groans as he sits up and quickly pulls his sweatpants back on while Steve starts to head to the door.
“Yeah, uh…yeah that would be cool. You um…you could come by any time, you know?”
Ugh, he looks so hopeful and eager. Steve’s gonna eat him alive. He kisses Bambi’s cheek and tells him, “I just might do that.”
An awkward laugh bubbles out of him and he nervously rubs the back of his neck. “Didn’t think my first time would be like a pizza delivery porno. I uh…get the large sausage line now.”
Holy shit. If Steve knew his pathetic loser boy was a virgin, he would have pushed his way into this trailer even sooner. What is this guy, like 24?
Steve kisses him properly and tells him, “You’re so cute. I will definitely be back, Bambi.”
He blushes furiously and just as Steve is walking out the door he shouts, “Wait!”
“Yeah?”
“Um…what’s your name?”
“Oh! It’s Steve.”
“Steve,” he whispers as he nods his head. “I’m Eddie.”
“See you soon, Eddie.” He winks and gets a bashful smile in return, and finally heads back to the van where the rest of the pizzas he was supposed to be delivering are definitely cold. Whatever. People have ovens, they can warm them up themselves.
That’s decidedly not what his boss thinks when he arrives back at Surfer Boy. Steve tries talking his way out of it, saying the van stalled out and he was stranded on the side of the road, but Argyle eyes the hickey blooming on his neck and shakes his head.
“I’m sorry my dude, but I’m gonna have to let you go. Total bummer of a day, you're the third person I had to fire.”
“Third?”
“Yeah man. I caught your friend and Vickie in the walk-in while you were out, and they were up to some gnarly stuff in there. Total health code issue if you catch my drift. She’s waiting for you in the parking lot. Good luck on your future endeavors!"
Steve's never been high-fived after getting fired, but he supposes there’s a first time for everything.
When he leaves Surfer Boy behind, Robin is perched on his trunk waiting for him. She doesn’t look too upset about losing another job. In fact, she looks delighted.
“What were you doing in the walk-in, Robbie?”
She grins like a maniac and says, “Well, my fingers were in a much warmer place than ice cream this time. How did it go with your loser boy?”
Steve points to the hickey on his neck. “Mission accomplished.”
“Congrats!”
“Same to you!”
It sucks that they got fired again, but Steve ends up getting a boyfriend out of it who can stay hard through multiple orgasms and works at an auto shop. His uncle owns it and hires Robin as a receptionist and Steve as the lowest level mechanic. He knows how to change oil and tires, so there’s not a lot that he can fuck up. Plus, he gets to work with his best friend again, and he can fool around with his boyfriend in the supply closet on their lunch breaks.
And there aren’t any ugly hats.