Caution! Fragile.

By TickledPink published February 27, 2018
Rich's company has a new contract, shipping and fulfilment on some military thing. Non-lethal incapacitants or something.

Caleb stacked boxes for a living. He didn’t mind it, he treated it basically as an extended gym session. At least he didn’t have to think much. Mindless work was pretty much what he needed at the moment. His last job had been high maintenance and high stress. Sure, it had come with commensurate pay, but at some point the previous year Caleb had just had enough. He’d packed it in, and took up a lower paying job. He’d downsized his place, and reinvested his savings. He was getting by comfortably, and, at some point Caleb had realised that was all he wanted out of life.

Caleb was pushing 185 cm, surprisingly tall, given how short his father had been. Caleb was half-Vietnamese, on his father’s side, but his mother was Swedish so that may have had something to do with it. His father had not taken Caleb’s new, easygoing approach as well as he’d hoped, but they were talking now at least. Caleb’s hair was dark, matching his eyes, both nearly black. He kept his hair short, a clean undercut, somewhat offset by a slightly scruffy black goatee. In keeping with the back-dock nature of his work and lax uniform policy of the building, Caleb usually just wore a tee and some jeans, which fit well over his tightly muscled frame. Steel cap boots made sure nothing smashed his toes if he ever were to drop anything.

Rich wanted more out of life than comfort. Rich, you see, wasn’t. And he wanted to be. He’d recently landed a promotion, managing the distribution centre, and was determined to make it the most efficient centre in the region. He had the year planned out to the last detail. By April he’d have enough to afford the engagement ring he’d been planning to get his girlfriend. Proposed by the end of April. He had most of the wedding planned out, so it was just a matter of convincing Amy to agree to it, booked by end of May. Wedding set for September. Early spring, lovely flowers, everyone happy. Honeymoon wrapped up by end of September, then cruise through to the end of the year, crushing every target that comes up. And all he had to do now, was whip this crew into shape.

As you may have guessed, Rich was slightly high strung. He was about 170 cm tall and lean. Some time at the gym had provided a bit of definition, but it really was metabolism (and stress, self-induced, naturally) doing most of the work. Brown hair styled neatly in a sensible haircut, and grey eyes behind glasses in silver metal frames. He usually dressed neatly. White shirt, tie. Some colour of sweater vest over the top, navy pants, brown shoes. Not steel caps. He wasn’t a factory worker after all.

Today was the day Rich decided to go down into the trenches and observe. Mostly he wanted to see who wasn’t pulling their weight and could be replaced with someone more enthusiastic. And preferably cheaper.

Caleb was stacking boxes, as he did for his aforementioned living. These boxes were slightly heavier than usual, and he could feel the tell-tale weight shifting that meant there was liquid in bottles in them. They were also labelled “FRAGILE, LIQUID CONTENTS, THIS SIDE UP” so bottles were a good bet. There were also a lot of warnings on the side, flammability and exposure risks mainly. But they were on basically everything, so he paid less attention to those. He continued to stack boxes.

“Er hem!” A somehow proper sounding cough announced the presence of someone. Caleb, sure they were going to be pompous based on the sound of the cough didn’t turn around, continuing to stack boxes.

“Er hem!” The pompous person cleared their throat again. Caleb carefully and deliberately put down the box he was holding and turned around. He looked down at the man standing behind him, who appeared to have a clipboard. It had a tablet on it, but still. It looked like the 90s were back for a moment there.

“G’day” Caleb said, pleasantly. “How’s it going?”

“Hello, I’m Richard and-” Rich paused, registering the question “Oh… uh, I’m fine…” slightly flustered from interrupting himself, Rich took a moment to regain his train of thought. “Right, I’m Richard, and I am the new manager. Started on Monday, and I’m now making the rounds.”

“Oh, I know who you are.” Caleb responded still pleasant as ever, unintimidated by the presence of his new boss “I saw you at the team meeting. You gave the speech about everyone pulling their weight and trimming the fat and whatnot.” Caleb flexed a little as he said it. The message, whether it was received or not, was a cutting jab at Rich’s lack of musculature.

The devastating put down sailed over Rich’s head. Rich was looking at his tablet and frowning. He looked back at the boxes, and then back at the tablet, swapping between them a few times. Caleb said nothing, somehow still pleasantly.

“Ah. Those are the new contract.” Rich said, finally. “Do be careful with those. Military contracts are a great opportunity, and we don’t want any screw ups.”

“Military?” Caleb asked. They’d never done any military fulfilment before.

“Mmm.” Rich responded. “Not sure what though. But make sure they stay safe. We don’t want a scratch on them.”

“Of course.” Caleb replied. Rich nodded once, and turned. “Watch-” Caleb started to yell. It was of course, too late. Rich, having got turned around at some point in their conversation walked directly into a tall stack of boxes, which wobbled. And then stopped. “-out.” Caleb finished lamely.

Rich, eyes wide as saucers, jumped backwards, foot catching on the edge of a pallet. He went crashing down, landing arse-first on a box.

“Hoooof!” He wheezed. Eyes still wide, he looked down, and sprung up whirling on the spot. The box he’d sat on was crushed at one edge. It appeared otherwise undamaged, apart from the rapidly spreading blue chemical oozing from the bottom corner. A pungent chemical smell wafted out.

“Shit.” He said. Primly.

“Shit, shit, shit.” Caleb could see that Rich was panicking. He walked over and put his hands on the smaller man’s shoulders, steadying him.

“Hey. Hey. Look at me.” Caleb made eye contact. “It’s alright. It’s just a spill. We’ll clean it up and write it off, it’ll be fine.”

“But it’s the military contract!” Rich whined, “They’ll, they’ll…” Caleb’s kept his hands on Rich. He could feel him relax slightly. “They’ll understand.” He finished, with a sigh. “Distribution contracts are written up knowing this will happen. There’s always loss built in.” He didn’t sound to happy, but Caleb was pleased he didn’t have a panic attack on his hands. There was a mess to clean up. He threw the rag on his belt to Rich, and jogged over to the emergency spill kit up the aisle.

When he got back he saw that Rich had thoroughly soaked the rag trying to wipe at the spill. He’d meant for Rich to try to contain it, but fine. He dumped the spill kit contents onto the blue liquid and started sweeping it up with a dustpan and broom. He got about halfway done before Caleb spoke up.

“What is this stuff anyway? It doesn’t look to great. Should we be breathing this stuff in?”

Rich was annoyed that he didn’t know the answer to that. He looked at Caleb as though he could will the answer out. Caleb was also sweeping up the kitty litter, and he made a striking figure, muscles rippling under his shirt as he swept. Rich blinked. What a weird thought. He went to grab at the box. His hand was met by Caleb’s, who had also decided to look closer at what they were dealing with.

They stood like that for a moment. Rich’s hand on the box, Caleb’s covering it. Caleb’s hand was warm, Rich thought to himself. Then both the men snatched their hands back.

“U…uh, sorry mate…” Rich stuttered. Caleb gave a stammered apology of his own in reply. Rich was feeling strange. But not in a bad way. If anything, he felt good. Really good. Rich didn’t want to admit it, but he knew what he was feeling. Horny. And unfortunately for him, Caleb seemed to have noticed. Caleb’s eyes were firmly locked on the bulge forming at the front of Rich’s slacks. Rich saw Caleb lick his lips.

Rich and Caleb launched themselves at each other, lips mashing together in an aggressive show of force. They made out desperately for a moment, before Rich felt himself being pushed away by Caleb.

“What-” Caleb nearly shouted “-the fuck!” finishing in a hiss, not wanting to draw attention to themselves.

“I don’t know!” Rich hissed back “You were the one with the tongue!”

“I was fucking not!” Caleb whispered indignantly, bringing himself closer to Rich as he did. “You were… you were…” Caleb lurched forward, wrapping his arms tightly around Rich, pinning his arms to his sides. He kissed Rich, tongue forcing its way into the other man’s mouth, who eagerly reciprocated for another few seconds.

They sprang away again.

“No. No. No. No no no.” Rich said, starting to pace. “No. I have a girlfriend. And I love her. And I am not gay!” He said insistently, as he walked up and down. “It’s that… that stuff.” He gestured wildly at the blue liquid, “We need to know what the stuff is. There’s bound to be a call line. Poisoning hotline or something.”

Caleb had been watching Rich pace, mainly focussed on how tightly his slacks clung to his rear, but the word poisoning sunk in. He went to the mangled box and ripped open the side. A cracked container inside had leaked it’s contents on the bottom of the box, but three others remained undamaged. Before he could grab at one of the intact bottles he felt a hand grab his arse. He darted upright, spinning around to find Rich standing directly behind him. Caleb looked down at his boss and felt nothing but pure lust.

The two men kissed, this time not stopping. In the brief moments while their tongues weren’t otherwise occupied they tried to make sense of the situation.

“I’m not gay” Rich insisted, as he pulled at the bottom of Caleb’s shirt, untucking it from his pants, and pulling it over his head.

“Nah mate, me either.” Caleb replied, fumbling with the buttons of Rich’s slacks. His tongue licked at Rich’s mouth, and they tickled their tongues against each other for a moment, before Caleb dropped to his knees.

“I have a…” Rich began, as Caleb opened his pants, exposing the tent his cock had made of his grey briefs. “a… a girlfriend… nnnnhhhhh…” he moaned, feeling the warmth of Caleb’s tongue as he licked at his fabric covered member. Caleb pulled the briefs down, and barely pausing, wrapped his mouth around the head of the cock before him.

Rich shivered in pleasure, as Caleb worked into a rhythm. His girlfriend hadn’t liked giving blow jobs, she thought they were demeaning, but looking down at Caleb, Rich could only appreciate how amazing it felt. He twitched, feeling Caleb’s tongue trace along the tip. Rich pulled off his sweater vest, and started working at the buttons on his shirt. It was slow work, and he had to pause for a moment to maintain his balance. Caleb had found a spot on the head that made his knees shake.

When Rich felt himself getting close, he pulled Caleb off. Gently pulling the larger man to his feet he kissed him, slower this time. As their tongues danced, Rich could taste something slightly salty in Caleb’s mouth, and he realised it was his own precum. He’d never tasted it before, but some part of his brain not currently in use registered that it wasn’t bad. He pushed Caleb over to a pile of boxes about waist height, and turned him around. Putting his hand on Caleb’s back he bent him over the pile and crouched. He fumbled at the front of Caleb’s pants for a moment, before Caleb gently pulled his hands away. Caleb undid his jeans and dropped his pants, leaving him in a pair of black boxer-briefs, fluoro green waistband proudly proclaiming “Friday”. It was Tuesday.

Rich pulled at the back of them, lowering them down, and took Caleb’s cheeks in his hands. Gently spreading them he saw the pink of Caleb’s hole, which looked more enticing than any pussy he’d ever seen. He licked at it, and felt Caleb quiver. With that as all the encouragement he needed, he pushed his face into Caleb’s crack, assaulting his hole with his tongue. He heard Caleb moaning above him, apparently no longer concerned with not drawing attention to themselves. He tongue-fucked Caleb vigorously for minutes, Caleb jerking his own cock in appreciation as he did.

After he’d decided it was enough, Rich stood, looking around for his pants. He found them and grabbed his wallet, extracting a condom from it. Ripping it open with his teeth he put it on quickly. Turning back to Caleb, still bent over the boxes, he poked at his hole with a finger, gently probing. He wet his fingers with his saliva and pushed them in. Working his hole open further, Rich looked around for a source of lube to make things easier. He noticed the now mostly empty bottle of whatever it was that had spilled and grabbed at it. Opening it up, he carefully poured some onto his fingers, and worked them into Caleb’s arse. Whatever it was, despite the colour, it made an effective lube.

He positioned his cock at the entrance of Caleb’s hole, and pushed forwards, the liquid making the entry slick. Caleb groaned at the entrance, arcing his back. Rich steadied him with a hand, bending him back over. Rich started moving his hips, slowly fucking Caleb.

“You’re so… nnh… so tight!” He gasped. It felt amazing.

Caleb had flushed red in the cheeks. “It’s so big…” he sucked air in, feeling the cock inside him touch something which made him arc his back again. Rich couldn’t keep Caleb’s more muscular frame down this time, and found Caleb pressed back-to-chest with him, and grinding his arse onto his cock. Caleb turned his head, eyes closed and mouth slightly parted. Rich leaned in and kissed him, their breathing becoming heavier as they fucked.

Rich felt something probing at his arse as he thrust forwards. He realised with a start that it was Caleb’s finger, prodding at his hole. He felt himself relax around it, and he could feel it tickle at his prostate. Soon it was all too much to bear, and with a final groan he came, thrusting hard as he did. Caleb, pushed to his limit spurted out, ropes of cum covering the boxes in front of him.

The two men stood, pressed together, and kissing, Rich’s softening cock still inside Caleb.

Three weeks after the… incident. As Rich called it, Rich was frustrated. He looked at his plan for the year, and, instead of feeling the usual ebullience of being completely on track for his goals, he felt unsatisfied. Empty.

His sex life for the past three weeks had been unimpressive. He and his girlfriend had certainly tried enough, but he just found that it wasn’t as good as he remembered. Something was missing. A knock at the door jolted him from his brooding. He yelled out that the door was open, and with a creak it did. Caleb stood at the entrance, one hand still on the door knob. He looked sheepish.

Raising his eyebrow, Rich called him in. Caleb shuffled in, shutting the door behind him. The two hadn’t spoken since the incident. Rich figured that Caleb would just never want to speak of it again and they could just pretend that it had never happened. Apparently not.

“So…” Caleb started. He went no further.

“So yeah.” Rich said.




“I think-” they both started. Rich paused, and gestured for Caleb to continue.

“I think I’m straight.” Caleb started. “I like women. I like their boobs and their pussies and just… all of it. And I don’t like men.” He continued. “I mean… I’ve thought about it now. Because,” he gestured to Rich “yeah. But, I just don’t. But that time.”

He breathed out.

“That time, was the best. I mean, out of anything I’ve ever… ever done. With anyone.” He looked over at Rich, who was biting his lip at this point. “So I guess, I mean, I don’t know. Do you…”

Rich looked at him expectantly.

“Do you want to try it again?”

Rich looked at him. He walked over to his desk and sat down. Breaking eye contact for a moment he ducked under his desk, fumbling at something. When he sat back up, he was holding a bottle. It was marked with warning labels. With clearer heads, the labelling could be seen. It was a synthetic pheromone, developed for non-lethal crowd control. In sober, small capitals it stated “G-4Y Anti-personnel Unit, Use Only in Well Ventilated Areas. Point Away From Face.” Rich smiled at Caleb, who turned and turned the lock on the door knob, shutting it with a click.

“There’s been a few breakages we’ve had to write off. Bottles and contents unrecoverable.” Rich said, almost believably.

“Unrecoverable.” Caleb confirmed.

Rich cracked open the lid of the bottle, and a chemical smell filled the room. He licked his lips, and grinned.

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