United Parcel Sex

Author: Reverand Maynard
Warnings: NC-17; 1x2; Yaoi
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything.

Notes: My First Lemon!!!

‘Thank you, please drive through.”


“That’ll be $5.50, sir. Thank you, please drive through.”


“No ma’am you can’t double park. Yes, you do have a large vehicle but. . . Hey!, well fuck you too lady!”

One-hundred-seventy-four; and it was only 12:00 pm.

Duo Maxwell, sat sullenly in the cramped booth of the Happy Parking parking lot. It was the largest lot in town and Duo manned its only entrance. The day was hot, the lot was filling quickly and the people were down-right stupid. All in all, a typical day.

Duo hated his job but employment was scarce, especially for young guys with long hair, and it wasn’t as if it was hard work. Most of the time, like now, once the morning rush was winding down, he could just sit and contemplate the meaning of life, or the miracle of the dawn, or how many licks it really took to get to the center of a tootsie roll pop.

But his favorite pasttime was clock watching and that was exactly what he was doing. The lot was full so he let down the mechanical arm, turned on the neon “Full” sign, and waited. His violet eyes twitched with each tick of the clock’s arm. 12:14 pm.

“Almost there.” he whispered dreamily, not taking his eyes off of the time piece. The seconds passed with painful slowness, the day always seem to drag up until this point.

Thirty seconds . . .

Duo’s stomach began to flutter.

Twenty . . .

His palms began to sweat .

Ten . . .

He finally wrenched his eyes away from the clock, and turned as swiftly as possible in the cramped space finding the mirror on the back wall. He made a mental checklist.

No ketchup from lunch on my face-check. Perfectly tidy, plaited hair-check. Irresistibly pouty lips-check. Oh-so-tight jeans-double check.

Duo was ready.

He turned to face the clock. 12:15 p.m. on the nose, and just as he expected a large brown van turned into the parking lot entrance.

“Here goes.” he breathed nervously, straightened his shirt, and pushed the button to raise the mechanical arm.

The van drove through and Duo and stuck his head out of the booth window.

“U.P.S.” Came a nasally baritone from inside the van.

Duo knew it was UPS, the guy knew Duo knew but every day for the past month that had always been the first thing out of the man’s mouth. Actually it was one of the only things the guy ever said. Duo didn’t know his name, though his shirt said Bill (somehow Duo doubted the validity of that) and Duo had never asked; just admired the view and waited until the next day, the next delivery.

The man was taller than Duo, or so he assumed, they had never stood side by side, and certainly more muscular. His hair was dark and unruly, whereas Duo’s was a light chestnut color and always in a perfect braid. The man appeared to be of some Asian descent, Duo was pure American. The guy seemed absolutely oblivious to Duo’s existence, Duo -- was in love.

Or at least in lust. Who could blame him? There’s just something so erotic about men in cute little brown shorts who handle your package.

Duo snapped out of his reverie, realizing that the man had been standing there for several minutes now, arms extended and several packages teetering on top of them.

“Packages for Mr. T. Khushrenada.” That was the second thing he always said, even with such formality Duo found the man’s tone alluring.

“Thanks.” came Duo’s reply, disappointed in himself for not saying more, he took the packages, and was further disappointed when they didn’t brush hands in the exchange. Whatever happened to small favors?

“Sign here,” the man produced a clipboard from God only knows where and presented it to Duo, saying his third part.

Duo took the board and signed his name, and handed it back,waiting for the next part of the speech.

“Last name?” there it was, so precise, like every day before.

“Maxwell.” Duo replied, as cheery as possible, though he already ached with loss at the thought of the man’s inevitable departure.

“Have a good day,” the man finished with absolutely no meaning behind the statement, he might as well have told Duo to jump off of a speeding train. He was back in his van and off into the day before Duo could reply.

Oh well, Duo thought, there’s always tomorrow. And he sat back in his booth, kicking his feet up onto the register, ready to spend the rest of the day wondering just what those little brown shorts were hiding.

The next day was much the same as the first. Busy morning, dumb people, and the anticipation of the 12 o’clock hour. Duo had decided that today he would speak to the dark-haired man, maybe even flirt a little. Tell him he should talk more, smile more, feel-up your local parking attendant more. Okay, maybe not the last part, but it was definitely time to confront his object of lust.

When 12:14 p.m. rolled around Duo began his routine over again, the clock-watching, the mirror-checking, and he was ready. 12:15 p.m. Duo straightened himself one last time and waited. And waited. And waited. And half an hour later, when a beat-up station wagon pulled into the lot instead of his prince charming’s brown chariot, Duo finally accepted the sad truth, no deliveries today.

The day had gone surprisingly smooth after that and despite the fact that he had missed his daily pick-me-up Duo was in a pleasant mood. The last of the cars were emptying from the lot and Duo was gathering his things, preparing for his departure. He lowered the mechanical arm one final time, turned on the “Lot Closed” sign and stepped out of the booth, locking it behind him. He didn’t even notice the large brown van idling at the edge of entrance until he heard that glorious baritone.


Duo turned on his heel, somewhat startled by the sudden human presence, even more startled at who that presence was. The man was standing behind the mechanical arm, holding several packages.

“Uhh,” Duo began, “aren’t you a little late?” This wasn’t exactly the conversation he had planned on but it was better than none.

The delivery man was unmoved, he continued with his agenda. “Packages for Mr. T. Khushrenada.”

Duo was perplexed.

“Mr. Khushrenada is not here,” he informed the man, “he’s never here. He sends someone to pick them up and you’ve already missed him.”

The man’s face was as stony as ever, but something changed in the pattern of his expression, disbelief perhaps?, determination?, and Duo realized that now the guy had no choice, he would have to deviate from his speech, maybe even an entire sentence. Duo hung on the silence in greedy anticipation.

“That can’t be,” the man began, voice as determined as his actions, “this is overnight, I have to deliver it. Can’t I leave it in the booth for tomorrow? I just need your signature.”

Three sentences, Duo was ecstatic.

“Sorry, but none doin.’ The lock’s timed, it can’t be opened again until tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow morning is too late. Tomorrow morning is not overnight. Tomorrow morning is two-day. This is not a two-day package.” The man’s voice began to take on a tone of vehement desperation.

Duo was starting to get nervous.

“Look man, there’s nothing I can do. I . . .” Duo was cut off.

“You can take them, I just need your signature.” The man ducked under the mechanical arm and advanced toward Duo, determined to have his packages delivered.

“No way.” Duo said backing away and the man paused in his pursuit, “I’m not gonna be responsible for those things, Mr. K. would have my hyde if there were something important in there and something happened to them. Just deliver them to his house.”

This seemed to satisfy the taller man because he turned back toward his van, but then turned abruptly, again facing Duo, startling him all over again.

“Where does he live?” the man questioned This was getting old, fast.

“How in the hell should I know?” Duo spat back, “look in the phone book, call information. your the delivery man, figure it out.” Duo was getting a little flustered. Mr. wonderful was turning out to be a tad neurotic and Duo was torn between wishing that the guy would leave him alone, and wishing he would haul him into his big brown van and make sweet love to him. Ahh, the complexities of modern relationships.

“He’s your boss, isn’t he? Are you sure you don’t know where he lives?” Asked the delivery man again, squinting against the setting sun, and despite his threatening tone, giving the cutest pout a grown man in brown shorts possibly could.

Duo was finding him more and more irresistible.

“Well, actually,” he admitted, remembering last year’s Christmas party at Khushrenada’s mansion, “I do know where he lives, guess I could give you directions.”

The man shook his head in response, “No time, you’ll have to show me.”

This guy had to be joking.

“You have got to be joking.” Duo shot back, “I just got off work, man, I’m on my way home.”

“I don’t see a car.”

“I take the bus.”

“I’ll drive you.”

The man was definitely persistent.

“No way man, find it yourself, or make it a two day delivery, I don’t care. I got better things to do than argue with you.” With that, finally fed up with the man’s insistence and honestly kinda freaked by it, Duo turned and headed toward the parks’s pedestrian exit.

He didn’t even hear the man move before he felt a strong hand around his arm. He was turned by it and found himself staring into the deepest darkest pools of intense cobalt blue.

“What’s the idea, pal?” Duo spat wrenching his arm free, regretting it immediately, mourning the warm grip.

“I need you.” The man’s voice was steely but his eyes were desperate.

“Huh?” A slight blush was creeping its way up Duo’s neck, the man’s words having immediate effect.

“I need you,” the man continued “to help me find this place. This is my last delivery and it has to be made. I am never late. I will not be late.”

The man was getting pretty intense now, almost threatening, Duo was more than uncomfortable.

“You know,” Duo began defiantly, “threats won’t get you anywhere with me,” he took a step forward determined not to let the bigger man know he was intimidated, “It sounds to me like I’m the only one who can help you right now, and if that’s the case don’t you think you should be a little nicer?”

The man stared blankly at him at first and then narrowed his eyes fiercely, Duo thought he may have overstepped his bounds but then the man made a noise, a low grumble in his chest, that came out of his lips awkwardly, as if the man’s speaking capabilities had been lost. It took Duo a moment to realize that the noise had actually been a word.

“What was that?” Duo asked, milking the moment.

“I said *please,* now lets go.” He turned on his heel, stalking back toward the van and picking up his packages on the way.

Duo watched the brown shorts appreciatively and then followed in their wake.

“Say, what were ya doin’ back there, Bill?” Duo asked his silent companion. They had been on the road for forty-five minutes now with at least another half-hour to go. About twenty minutes into the drive, “Bill” had stopped the van and gone in the back for a few minutes, leaving Duo to wonder what the purpose of this had been.

“I had to take some medication.” the man answered flatly, “and stop calling me Bill.” he punctuated the statement with a hard shift of the gears. Duo watched his fluent movements.

His long legs were stretched before him, one foot on the gas, the other near the clutch. Duo stared intently at the musculature that shifted under the tanned limbs with every press of the gas or brake, was envious of the steering wheel as the man gripped it firmly, and found himself especially jealous of the gear shift, being teased into position by the man’s knowing thrusts.

Duo shook his head , what did he say? . . . oh yeah, medication.

“Oh,” Duo replied, trying to keep his voice straight, “what kind of medication?”


“Oh yeah, what’re you allergic to?”


Duo started to laugh but soon realized the man was serious. “They make a medication for that, being allergic to everything?”

“Sort of.”

“Does it work?”

“Pretty much.”

“Side effects?”

“Only one.”

“Yeah? What’s that? Drowsiness? You don’t need me to drive do ya?”


“Well, what is it, then?” Duo had long since stopped caring as he was once again lost in the play of muscles in the man’s calf, so his response was delayed when the delivery man finally answered his question.

“An increased libido.”

When Duo’s wandering mind finally caught up to the conversion, he had to abandon the beautifully tanned legs to look at the man’s equally lovely face to make sure he had heard right. To his surprise, when he finally did, the man looked as serious as ever, eyes trained on the road.

“Eh, heh, heh.” Duo laughed nervously, but the man ignored him, time to change the subject.

“So . . .” Duo searched for ideas, “Why shouldn’t I call you Bill?”

“Because it’s not my name.”

“Well, what is your name?” Duo had supplied his as soon as they were in the van, he thought it only fair the man share his.


“Hero? Did you name yourself that or did your parents dream of you becoming a firefighter?”

“Not Hero,” the man sounded irritated but still refused to look at the braided boy in the passenger seat, “it’s Heerrrro,” he stressed the roll of the “r,” “it’s Japanese.”

The man became preoccupied with something else, as Duo tried out the new word on his untrained tongue, and finding the taste of it quite palatable. He whispered it softly to himself, certain the other man couldn’t hear him over the roar of the engine.

“Is this it?” Heero asked suddenly, and Duo jerked his head to see what he was referring to. He had actually forgotten that they were driving for a purpose.

Up ahead, at the end of a long driveway, loomed a glorious estate. The Khushrenada residence was back lit by the early evening moon, giving it a glow that made it appear even bigger than it was.

“Yep, this is the place.”

Without reply, Heero stood and headed toward the back, ever the diligent delivery man. Duo stood too, following close behind.

“Here,” he offered “why don’t you let me help.” He extended his arms intending to take a package from Heero.

“No, I can handle it.” The larger man replied, not taking his eyes from the task at hand.

“Hey, I’m just tryin’ to help. I’ll take this one, you take the rest.” He grabbed the box closest to him and hefted it into his arms, it was small but surprisingly heavy. Duo remembered Heero handling it as if it were weightless.

So caught up in these remembrances was he, that it took him a second to realize what had happened when the box became suddenly very light and the reverse thrust of his arms worked against him, pitching him against the back of the passenger seat. Around his feet the box’s contents lay scattered, the bottom of the box having given under its weight.

“I . . . uhh . . . ,” Duo started, staring at the mess around him, “I didn’t do it, I mean, I did, but-- it wasn’t my fault! And besides, look” he looked down at the spilled merchandise, “it doesn’t matter if the box is broken, it was full of KY Jelly! Any freak who’d buy a whole damned case of lubricant isn’t gonna care what kind of package it comes in!” a deathly quiet pause, and then, “Would you stop staring at me like that!”

At the sound of the tearing cardboard Heero had turned in time to see the contents fall from the bottom of Duo’s box. He now stood, eyes intently fixed on Duo’s.

Oh shit. Duo thought, this guy’s gonna kill me. He’s a maniac delivery man and I ruined his package. Why is he still staring at me? Why doesn’t he just kill me and get it over with.

They stood like that, Duo holding an empty box, Heero glaring at Duo, for a full minute before Heero finally broke the spell and stepped forward, suddenly invading Duo’s space, crushing the box between them.

Duo was frozen to the spot as Heero’s mouth, his lips, met his own. Heero’s hands once again took a steely hold of Duo’s arms and at length became the only thing holding the braided boy up. Heero was by no means a gentle kisser, his tongue plunged into the smaller man’s mouth searching for its equal, and when they separated, Duo’s lips were reddened from the pressure. Heero backed off, but not too far, as the only thing Duo could see were those intense cobalt eyes. He was speechless.

“Say it again.” Heero commanded softly.

“Wha . . .” Duo managed, clueless as to what Heero meant.

“Whisper it like you did, before, when you thought I couldn’t hear . . .” his voice was deep, airy and seductive. “Heero . . .” he whispered in explanation. He was teasing Duo now, running his lips along Duo’s, the touch, gossamer, “ . . . Heero.”

Duo blushed slightly and started to object, embarrassed that Heero had heard him and then thought better of it. His voice came out even softer than Heero’s, timid at first.

“ . . . heero . . .” with that, Heero returned to his work with renewed vigor, pushing Duo into the back of the seat, bringing their bodies flush.

Duo could feel Heero’s bulge pressing against him and felt the throb of his own. Heero moved his hands between them, yanking the box away and finding the buttons on Duo’s shirt, and made quick business of their undoing. He pulled away long enough to remove his own shirt and then pressed his bare chest to Duo’s, running his hands along the smaller man’s sides and around to the small of his back. He pulled him even closer, all the while ravishing Duo’s hungry mouth.

Duo was lost in the ecstasy, the realization of his long-time fantasy, when something began to nibble at the back of his mind. He tried to drown it in a wave of apathetic lust, but it came back stronger all the same, and suddenly he remembered--the medication. Was that why Heero was doing this? Because he couldn’t help himself? More importantly, DID HE REALLY CARE???

Evidently he did.

“hmmm, . . . Heero,” he managed, trying to speak past the exquisite kiss, “we can’t do this, your allergies, I . . .” Duo’s resolve was weakening under Heero’s ministrations.

“I’m not allergic to this, koi.” Heero replied grinning into Duo’s mouth.

“No. . . that’s not. . . oh--- oh fuck it.” Duo gave up at his attempt to save Heero from, himself. In the end, if Heero regretted his actions, he would be just as much of a victim, why not at least enjoy the crime.

Heero had heard Duo’s declaration and seemed to take it as a command. He began to rub his body against Duo’s, grinding their hips together. Duo was panting and hanging onto the larger man with a death grip.

“Somewhere . . . more . . .unhhh . . . comfortable.” Duo moaned, between breaths, and Heero complied, moving them atop a pallet of cow-colored computer boxes that Heero knew could support their weight, and was better than the cold metal floor.

“Better?” Heero asked as he lay Duo down. Duo nodded and then gave a short cry of loss as Heero pulled away from him.

Duo lay sprawled across the boxes, bare chested, legs dangling at the knee, his long braid snaking beside him.

Heero had pulled away only to kneel before him, touching first Duo’s silken stomach, and then moving his touches lower, grasping the top of Duo’s jeans. He made quick business of those too, slipping them over slender hips and creamy thighs, repeating the same steps with Duo’s briefs, watching in appreciation as Duo’s erection was set free.

Duo hissed as the cold air kissed his hot skin, and then nearly jumped when something else entirely, or rather someone, kissed him in the same place, only this kiss was warm.

Heero had begun to nuzzle Duo’s arousal, wiry hairs tickling his nose. “Say it again, Duo,” Heero could have been talking to Duo’s cock for all the attention he lavished upon it, but refused to do that which he knew the braided boy wanted most. “Say it louder this time.”

“Heero,” Duo began, going mad from the sensations his Japanese lover was causing in him. “Heero,” he repeated, louder, and was rewarded by being engulfed into Heero’s wanton mouth, the warm wetness massaging his cock.

“Heero!” he nearly screamed now and began writhing under Heero’s deft administrations. He draped his legs over Heero’s shoulders and began arching his back, wanting the ecstasy to last forever but climbing closer to release with every pass of Heero’s lips. He knew it wouldn’t be long.

When Duo came, Heero accepted it greedily. And then turned his attention away from Duo’s cock and back to its owner.

Duo was, panting heavily now, back still arched from his explosive climax, and Heero was kissing his glistening stomach, working his way back up. Duo relaxed as Heero moved over him, lying back onto the boxes, opening his eyes and staring into the blue pools of his fantasies.

“I lied,” Heero said, looming predatorily over Duo, “about the medication.”

Duo was confused. “You don’t have allergies?”

“No,” Heero smiled, “that’s true, I mean about the side-effects.”

“But why?”

“In case you rejected me, I figured I could just blame it on the medication.”

Duo understood now.

He reached between their bodies and found the crotch of Heero’s shorts. He felt the raging hard-on there. “Are you sure it doesn’t affect your libido?” Duo asked playfully?

Heero’s answer was completely serious. “No, koi, that’s you.” He did not move but let Duo take the next step.

Without breaking their meaningful gaze, Duo’s hands turned serious as well. He undid Heero’s shorts, and found silk boxers beneath. Slipping his hand past the band, he found Heero’s hard cock, pulsing with the same passion he saw in his eyes.

Duo rubbed mockingly timid fingers along Heero’s aching shaft, now it was his turn to tease.

“Heeee-ro. . .” he whispered sing-songedly into Heero’s ear and felt the larger body tremble above him.

Heero closed his eyes, relishing the the light touches, but knowing it couldn’t continue much longer if they were going to consecrate their new-found relationship.

With every ounce of determination he had left, he lifted himself from Duo’s grasp, and leaned backward enough to reach one of the tubes of lubricant from the spilled package.

“They won’t miss one,” he whispered to himself, then removed the rest of his clothing and climbed back to his perch.

Duo was already waiting, legs spread, hands outreached, ready to receive Heero into their warmth. His arousal was returning with marked quickness.

Heero paused for a half second, appreciating the sight before him and then dove head first once again into the maelstrom of passion. He caught Duo’s lips with his own, and pulled the American’s legs over his shoulders, spreading the lubricant over his fingers and began to massage at Duo’s entrance. He listened for any sign of reluctance or pain from his lover as he explored Duo with one finger, and then another.

“Heero. . . ,” Duo rasped, between deep breaths, and deeper kisses, “. . . fuck me, Heero.”

He struck a nerve inside the Japanese man with that simple phrase and Heero, found the command irrefutable. He removed is fingers and replaced them with his much more substantial erection and waited only an instant before entering Duo. Duo arched, at that first intrusion, impaling himself further onto Heero’s shaft and Heero was certain he had to be hurting himself. But he groaned loudly as Heero’s cock brushed his prostate, and Heero was overwhelmed with the shameless sounds of Duo’s pleasure. They worked at their own pace, their own rhythm and after what seemed and endless eternity of love-making, Heero thrust especially deep into Duo’s body and released inside him. The sensation of being filled with Heero’s hot semen, sent Duo into his second climax, that left his abdomen coated with his seed, which Heero, once again, greedily lapped up.

They had lain in the perfect afterglow of their experience and, at length, had even fallen asleep, naked and entwined in each others limbs. Somewhere around 11:00 pm Heero sat bolt upright.

He looked at his watch, grabbed his shoes and began to dress. “Duo! We have to hurry, its eleven o’clock.”

Duo was still half-napping, his voice was slow and groggy. “What is it Heero? Earthquake?”

“No, baka. I still have to deliver those packages.” He continued dressing.

“Ohh,” Duo moaned, sitting up. “Your kidding me, right?”

They walked up to the front door of the enormous mansion. Heero holding armfuls of packages, Duo carrying one very taped-up, wrinkled one.

Heero rang the bell.

“They’re probably all asleep, Heero! If he recognizes me I’ll be fired for sure.”

Heero was oblivious. He knocked this time.

At that moment, the door flew open and a tall, slender man in a robe, stood in it’s opening. His hair stretched well past his lower back in flowing golden tresses, and his robe was hiding only the barest of essentials Duo noticed, as strong, pale thighs peeked from its folds.

“Yes?” The man asked, his voice a deep, throaty threat. Duo found himself quite intrigued, he wondered if Heero felt the same way.

“Packages for T. Khushrenada.” Came Heero’s usual business tone.

“Who is it, love?” Came a melodic voice from somewhere far inside the house.

“It’s two young boys, with large packages!” The golden man replied, Duo was beginning to think he had seen the man before, at Mr. K.’s Christmas parties. Yes, now he remembered, the man had never left Mr. K’s side.

“Well, do tell them to come in, love, that sounds like quite a bit of fun.”

The golden man smiled at the response, and then began teasingly, “It is a bit late for deliveries isn’t it?”

“We got lost.” Duo supplied and the man seemed happy with the excuse.

“Where do I sign?” Duo handed him the clipboard while Heero sat the packages inside the door, and the man signed his name.

“Last name?” Duo asked, just as Heero had dozens of times before.

“Merquise.” The golden man replied and then Duo held the clipboard closer to his face.

“Is your first name Sex?” Duo asked incredulously.

“Not unless you want it to be.” The golden Merquise replied, his voice inviting.

“Stop flirting, Milliardo and come save me from the spoils of late night television.”

The man smiled again. “You boys have a good night, and watch out for lecherous old men.” With that, he shut the door and left Duo and Heero on his lighted stoop.

“That was kinda weird.” Duo said.

“Hn. I think he was right though, I’m gonna have to watch out for you, make sure no one like that tries to take you away, sweep you off your feet.” Heero said jokingly taking Duo into his arms.

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Duo replied, retuning Heero’s embrace, “I already have my hero.”

Owari ~_^

Reverand Maynard--03/2001