Full Summary: Andrew didn't realize he had been delivering pizzas to the same guy for weeks until Jason answered the door with his confession of undying love: "I love you, can I fuck you? Please?" Drew didn't realize this complete creep was actually the love of his life until much later. But this wasn't fate or destiny. This was because Jason had memorized Drew's work schedule.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Pizza Delivery Companies I may inadvertently refer to in here through product names/ad campaigns/etc. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is merely paranoia on your part.
Warnings: Slash, m/m. Sex and cursing, the usual. Nothing triggering.
A/N: I got this urge to write a story completely different from shit I usually do… featuring a real promiscuous character, because it's the total opposite of things I'm comfortable with. I also wanted to write a 'love at first sight' story, because I hate 'love at first sight stories'.
Of course the combination of promiscuousness and love at first sight…. Could never write a serious story with those parameters. And I couldn't write a character like that without totally making them into a major sleazy creep.
12/13/13: I have received some feedback that the dialogue gets a bit confusing at times. Re-reading this months later i can see points where it does become convoluted, so I'll fix it where i think it's appropriate. Still, stylistically, i like having mainly dialogue at some points. So each line of ... represents someone not speaking or "..." being sort of open mouthed exasperation/awkwardness deal. So:
but for the most part i'll add some indicators of whose speaking.
The Bzzzzes are supposed to represent the ringing doorbell so you know that the conversation starts as soon as the door is opened.
I also deleted the omake chapter. it is not needed now that this is complete and it deceptively increased the word count
I have fucking long A/Ns (sorry) so in case the word count is deceiving, once this edit sweep is done i'll figure out the word count for just the story w/out my excess bullshit.
ACTUAL WORD COUNT:
Delivered Straight to Your Door
When Andrew knocked on the apartment door, pizzas in hand, he had no idea that the love of his life was waiting on the other side…
The love of his life; however, knew the love of his life was waiting on the other side. Drew had indeed delivered pizzas to Jason's apartment several times before. In fact, he had delivered a pizza to Jason's place every day he had worked for the past week.
This wasn't fate or destiny. This was because Jason had memorized the work schedule of 'the cute pizza boy' and he could also afford the heinous delivery charges.
Jason, unlike Andrew, knew the love of his life would be on the other side of the door and tonight he would profess his undying devotion- mainly because his refrigerator was running out of room for the leftovers.
It would have probably have helped his cause to build up a repertoire with Drew that included topics of conversation other than confirmation of his order and monetary exchanges. To begin with, an exchange of names would have proved fruitful.
Jason had meticulously prepared for this moment. About five minutes prior he had scribbled 'Love u, bang me' on a nearby napkin. 'Please?' was mentally amended a few moments later for a measure of common courtesy.
"I love you. Can I fuck you… please?" was Jason's speech verbatim. Preparation had been crucial to his successful delivery.
"That will be $12.50," was Andrew's response. He was accustomed to filtering out the deranged driveling of the customers.
"Oh no, you're worth much more than that."
Drew's boss was not pleased to find $12.50 worth of cash was missing from the register when finishing up the books later that night.
Jason didn't have room in his fridge for the medium meat lover's pizza with a side order of cinnastix anyways. He did have room for a shirtless delivery boy dribbling hot icing down his chin and onto his chest while he did unmentionable things to a very phallic, spiced bread item.
Jason skipped ordering pizza the next evening, opting for three orders of cinnastix and a side order of breadsticks for good measure.
"I love you. Can I fuck you… please?"
"That will be $10.08."
"Do you like cinnastix?" Jason's voice lifted hopefully.
"No," Drew responded shortly, shoving the boxes into Jason's hands.
At least this time Jason did not end up with cheese and tomato sauce smashed into his hair and Drew didn't have to pay off his debts using his tip money again.
Drew did not know the love of his life was on the other side of Door 36B, but he was beginning to recognize a pattern in the door's appearance-
-that is it appeared daily.
"I love you. Can I fuck you-"
"Did you order the small mushroom and anchovy pizza?" Andrew cut in.
"-pleease?" Jason attempted not to whine too desperately.
At this point, Drew even began to realize that, along with Door 36B, a certain psychotically horny man was also an unpleasant repetition during his work week.
"I love you. Can I fuck you? Please?"
Drew unabashedly ignored him. "That will be $15.30."
If the lunatic didn't tip so well- an act Jason hoped symbolized his pure-hearted devotion to the delivery boy (it reminded Drew of bribery-bordering-on-prostitution more than he was comfortable with, but fuck, he needed the cash)- Andrew would have reported the black-haired creep long ago.
"I love you. Can I fuck you? Please?"
"One order of cheesy bread?"
"Yes- you can always fuck me instead. You top?"
"That's an excellent place to start. Why argue over who penetrates who at this point in our relationship?"
Drew was not a blushing virgin, but he certainly looked like it.
Jason wished he could make the delivery boy blush in an entirely naughtier way.
"I love you. Can I please fuck you?"
"Do you even know my name?" Drew wasn't entirely sure whether a response of 'yes' or 'no' would be more disconcerting in this instance.
"These emotions run too deep for superficial things like names to matter."
"You owe $12.50."
Drew's tip was well over 50% that evening. He wondered vaguely as he shoved the bills into his jean pocket what job the blue-eyed freak had to be able to spend so excessively and indiscriminately.
Jason would think of his actions as being anything but indiscriminate, if only his thoughts were not otherwise engaged with how much he'd prefer it if it was his hand slipping into those jeans.
Jason began paying for his meals with a credit card. Drew realized, after the fifth night of this change in their routine, it was so that Jason could surreptitiously jot down his phone number while signing the receipt.
Call me ;)
=) fuck me
I luv u
-were about how much Jason could write without seeming to take a suspiciously long time.
Drew wasn't sure why the guy insisted upon this façade of stealth when he had been rather direct when hitting on Andrew previously; he'd already been asking to fuck Drew about five times a week for over two months.
"I love you. Can I fuck you?" Jason, who at this point began contemplating the possibility of unrequited love, felt that pleasantries were no longer required in such desperate circumstances.
"I'm not even gay, you know," was Drew's insincere reply, but there was no need to encourage the creep.
"My name's Jason, what's yours?"
If Drew knew labeling himself as a heterosexual would have caused this 'Jason' to take up a more normal line of inquiry, he would have said he was straight from the very start of this… whatever this was.
Jason would have considered this to be courtship, but he also considered a complete stranger- that is, 'his' delivery boy- to be everything he needed in a man.
More like a man he needed to be in, but such distinctions were trivial.
"Drew," Andrew answered reluctantly. "Sign here."
"Short for Andrew?"
Drew grunted in confirmation. "Here's your receipt."
"Andy?" Jason asked without preamble.
"What about Andy?"
"What about him?"
"Not him, you."
"Come again?" Drew frowned in confusion.
"Haven't come at all yet, would you like to fix that?"
Drew's mouth continued to open and close for a few moments. He was unsure of how the conversation arrived at this point, but he had been lost since his most embarrassingly devout customer had answered the door.
"Do you mind if I call you Andy?" Jason clarified (fucking finally).
"Okay. What about Baby?"
"Yes, I can call you Baby?"
"No, you can't."
"Why'd you say 'yeah' then?"
"Look! It's Drew or Andrew, not anything else, alright."
Drew picked up the boxes off the counter, sliding them into the hotbox. Grabbing the list of addresses, his eyes automatically trained onto the '36B' that he had known would appear at some point during the evening.
Drew had begun to wonder recently how the older man ate so much pizza. It should be physically impossible. Mostly, he wondered how the man ate so much and still managed to remain so fit. It's not as if Drew hadn't noticed the man's physique when he showed up at the door, hair tousled, in low slung boxer shorts, leaning sexily on the arm raised to rest against the doorframe so that his ragged shirt would ride up…
Andrew wasn't sure why the man was insistent upon asking someone so utterly unremarkable as him for a ramble in the sheets when the guy always looked thoroughly fucked when he answered the door.
Could he be jacking off?
Drew's cheeks flushed in complete horror. Actually, it was ninety-five percent horror, four percent embarrassment, and one percent arousal. Drew did not pick up on such subtleties of emotions, even his own.
He dearly hoped his mentally impaired customer did not consume all the pizza he ordered, because it would only confirm his suspicions that the freak couldn't be entirely human.
It really wasn't fair that a bum like him could keep in such good shape.
"Despite having tomato sauce, pizzas won't actually fulfill your daily nutritional needs," Andrew blurted out one day.
"Concerned for my well-being? Falling madly in love with me?"
"Just saying that maybe you should cut back on the pizzas. Have a salad. Fruit. Fruit salad."
"Then how would I be able to see you?"
"You wouldn't- sign here."
"It's not as if I eat it all, you know," Jason told him the next day.
"Then you probably've got a life-time supply of leftovers."
"No, not enough room in the fridge."
"Ah, of course..." Drew glanced around awkwardly.
"Don't you want to know what I do with it all?" Jason prompted.
"Not really, no. Can you pay me now?"
"Fine, okay, so what do you do with it?" Andrew asked.
"The. Extra. Pizza. What do you do with it?"
"Spent all night and day thinking about me, have you?"
"About what a creep you are, yeah."
"So you were!"
"Don't have an orgasm, dude."
"If you make one comment about orgasms or anything remotely sexual-"
"What? You'll spank me?" Jason smirked.
"I just told you-"
"I meant nothing perverse by it. You've sssuch a dirty mind, Drew."
Yes, Andrew's shiver was definitely caused by having his ear fucked by the husky whispering of his insane customer. Jason dearly hoped it was because he was succeeding in seducing a straight man. Andrew dearly hoped it was in disgust because this guy was a real sleazy creep.
"Just sign the damn receipt."
Drew hadn't previously been aware that he had begun to neglect customer-employee protocol, but he was pretty sure calling a customer a creep and telling them not to cream their own jeans was generally frowned upon in customer service.