Chapter Text
“Hidden gem, right?”
Grace nearly bangs his head against the underside of his desk as he quickly stands up and whirls around to see Phoebe standing near his doorway. She’s chewing on some gum and she blows a bubble in his direction as he gapes at her.
“I’m sorry?” He finally manages to say after a moment of struggling on what to say to this bizarre woman.
“Room 2020, hon,” Phoebe says, her eyes gleaming with something that kind of makes Grace want to crawl into a hole. “Right across from yours. There’s a diamond in there and it just makes you want to take a bite, doesn’t it?”
Grace glances across the hallway and feels his entire face go pink.
The door is propped wide open by a doorstop in the shape of a rocketship, and on the inside is a sight that makes Grace want to bite at his knuckles.
Dr. Erid is currently adjusting something on the wall opposite of the door. It’s high up but he can reach it fine, but it requires him to straight his back and arms in order to grab the poster he’s straightening. The shirt he’s wearing is stretched tight, and he has his sleeves rolled up, which means Grace can see miles of tanned skin dusted with dark hair.
Grace stuffs his hands into the pockets of his sweater. It’s the only way he can hide the way he’s clenching his fists, and he shuffles where he stands, hoping against hope that Phoebe doesn’t notice how hard he’s staring.
Maybe I really am sick, Grace thinks feverishly.
“You know, he and I used to go out,” Phoebe says casually. She’s twirling a blonde curl around her finger and seems much less ashamed about blatantly ogling an oblivious Rocky, who continues to mess with his various math and physics-themed posters. “It was back in college, so nothing serious, but I still remember all the things we got up to.”
“Is that so?” Grace croaks.
Phoebe’s blue eyes glance towards him, and a smirk starts to flirt on her red lips as she leans in close and says, “oh, of course. He might seem calm now, but back then, he was an angry little thing. The only way to get rid of his pent up energy was to use it up somewhere else, typically with me.”
“I don’t think this is an appropriate conversation to have,” Grace says in a hoarse voice, but he can’t possibly tear his eyes off of Rocky, at the way his back muscles are strained against his shirt, the veins in his hands, everything. “Especially about a coworker.”
“I’m just informing you about a colleague, nothing more and nothing less,” Phoebe says in a simpering tone. “He’s so skilled at just about everything, you know. He’s stubborn like that. And you know what, Dr. Grace? If you really piss him off, I know for a fact that he can get just like he used to. He always takes and takes, but he’s so generous, too. I can’t even tell you the amount of times I would faint from how good he gave it - “
“Excuse me!” Grace yelps as he shoves past her and powerwalks down the hallway. The back of his neck grows hot as Phoebe cackles behind him and Rocky asks what’s going on.
The closest private area he can find is the janitor’s closet, but he’s so desperate that he doesn’t care. He swings open the door and practically runs inside, grateful that the key’s still in the lock so he can lock it shut from the inside, and he heaves as he sags against one of the walls and clutches at his rapidly beating heart.
What is wrong with him?
He’s losing his mind.
He rubs his thighs together and resists the urge to whimper when he realizes there’s a stickiness in between them. Why is he so wet? Why is he wet at all?
He thinks about what Phoebe said. About the heavy implications of her words, sultry and teasing and goading, and he’s torn between moaning at the image of Rocky pounding into her with such abandon that apparently she would pass out from the amount of times she orgasmed, or punching her.
Because Grace is jealous.
He is, oh my god, he is, he’s so fucking jealous.
Why? He thinks hysterically as he shakily undoes his belt. He barely comprehends what he’s doing; it doesn’t matter to him that he’s still at school, or that this is his first day on the job. He doesn’t care that he’s being stupid, nor does he care about the implications as he hastily shoves down his now loose jeans and fumbles with the waistband of his briefs.
All he can think about is Rocky.
It should have been me, Grace thinks dizzily as he spreads his legs apart and rubs two fingers up against his cunt. It makes him curl forward at the electric touch, his entire body feeling like it’s being set on fire as he scrambles to shove up his sweater so he can bite down on it to get a better view.
It should have been me, instead. I could have taken it. I wouldn’t have fainted. Stupid Phoebe. How could she pass out? Then she wasn’t awake to experience the rest of it. I could have done better. He would have appreciated it, I’m sure.
When he draws his hand away from in between his legs, he can see the slick rubbed onto his fingers, clear and stringing between his nails, and he breathes heavily, his mind cloudy with confusion as well as the sharp, heavy sensation of pure envy.
He’s never been this wet before. He’s also never been this jealous, either.
His sweater is starting to feel soaked with saliva as he hesitantly rubs a thumb against his swollen clit and it nearly makes him cry. Tears gather at the corners of his eyes as he slides a single finger into his throbbing pussy, and it’s so easy, lended by how wet he is and also how eager his body is for something to clench around.
“Oh, god.” He heaves a muffled sob around his sweater as he thrusts in another finger.
He can’t remember the last time he was so eager, so willing to take something inside. It’s usually a chore to get like this, and aside from those few painful experiences in college, he’s never - wanted someone to fuck him.
But he does.
Oh, oh, he really does, he wants, needs Dr. Erid to be there with him, to kick open his legs and bend him over and fuck him up against the wall without caring if anyone can hear them. If what Phoebe said really is true, then Rocky’s the type to be rough, isn’t he?
Would he force Grace’s slick thighs apart, ignoring the way Grace cries and begs him to slow down? Would he make fun of the way how secretly eager Grace is, whose cunt practically pours with slick as his body anticipates being abused? Would he tell Grace to shut up as he shoves inside, splitting him open, his practically virgin pussy being forced to take it all?
Grace clenches his teeth around his soaked sweater as he fingers himself harder. The tiny closet is filled with the disgusting noise of his frantic movements, a wet shlick, shlick, shlick that grows louder as he grows wetter, and he wants it, he wants Rocky, and he should have been there, he should have been the one Rocky met in college instead, he should have been the one passing out from so many orgasms, he should have been the one -
“Mmm!” Grace cries out into his sweater as he comes.
He’s coming, he’s coming, it’s s-so much, oh, god -
He jumps when he feels a large gush of warm liquid around his hand. It bursts out and makes him sob, splattering onto his shaking knees and dripping into his briefs, which are now completely soaked. His glasses are askew and he’s breathing so heavily that he sees black spots at the edges of his vision.
Did he just -
Did Grace -
Grace shakily removes his hand from his still throbbing pussy and lifts his fingers up to the dim light of the closet.
His hand is shiny with wetness.
He just squirted.
Holy fuck.
He’s never done that before, but just the thought of Rocky is enough to make him gush all over himself.
… Wait.
He just fingered himself open at the thought of his coworker. He’d been so jealous that he actually wished he could have taken Phoebe’s place in the past. His briefs are ruined.
Grace groans as he lets his head fall back and land gently on the cement wall.
What have I done?