Chapter Text
Roy wants to shoot himself whenever he clocks in to work, as working at McDonald’s tends to have that effect on people. His manager is probably bipolar and off her meds, which isn’t surprising, because no McDonald’s manager is affording Sertraline on that fuckass salary, and his coworkers are annoying as hell. Though, he guesses the youngest one (apart from him) could be worse. Abby’s decent, all things considered, because she treats this job like a side gig just like he does, never mind that this is his only source of income and that he’s this close to getting fired.
Abby’s working here because she just graduated and can’t find a job. That makes him feel better about not doing anything past high school. If even people with a bachelor’s degree in accounting, which sounds like a real adult job, can’t find shit, then maybe he was right not to go to college. Well, it’s not like he had the means to. Or the motivation. Or any support from his mom whatsoever.
So she’s working here to get by. Still, she’s nice enough to Zoey, his batshit manager, doesn’t complain much when she gets saddled with extra work, and sometimes smiles at customers. Occasionally. He’s surprised he doesn’t find her annoying, because one thing he absolutely cannot stand is a kiss-ass, but instead he thinks it’s cute, which is embarrassing for him. He blames it on the hormones. He’s nineteen years old and she’s a pretty coworker only three years older than him, so of course he thinks she’s cute. It’s not a big deal. He thought it took more than that to get to him, but y’know. Nineteen. He’ll grow out of it. Hopefully.
Another downside of being nineteen is, simply and honestly put, getting boners at the worst possible times. And goddamn, if Abby doesn’t trigger the hell out of him. They’re wearing the same uniform, but Abby’s shirt pulls slightly across her chest and she keeps a few extra buttons undone because she can’t stand the heat. It is July, after all. Sometimes she unbuttons it just enough for him to catch a glimpse of her cleavage, her bra visible beneath the thin fabric. For lack of a better word, she had the cutest tits he’d never seen, and oh, how he wished he could see them, even for just a second. He’d throw Zoey into the deep fryer for one look. For one touch, he’d probably blow the damn place up.
Abby has really cute tits, and she has a nice neck, and nice shoulders. Her hair is long, so she puts it in a ponytail, and he gets to watch loose strands stick to the back of her sweaty neck while she works the counter. Her shoulders are pretty, her waist is pretty, she has the sexiest hips, one hell of an ass, and long legs, and it doesn’t take long for him to start jerking off to her at night. He used to think jerking off to people you actually knew was a myth, something that only happened in movies, but he gets it now. It’s hard to go on with your life when your hot, beautiful coworker keeps showing up in your dreams wearing absolutely nothing.
Sometimes he can’t tell whether what he feels is attraction, jealousy, or some freakish combination of both. It must be nice to be that beautiful and feminine, but that’s another issue he hasn’t quite worked out with himself yet. One he feels guilty about after jerking off, but otherwise shoves to the back of his brain and tries not to think about because it’s fucking stupid.
Point is, it’s a Sunday morning, and he’s alone with Abby. Well, there are two other people in the back, but it’s just him and Abby on counter duty. Her shirt is unbuttoned again, and Roy is such a creep that he can tell from a glance alone that she’s not wearing a bra today. That, and her nipples are poking the thin material, but he really, really tries to not think about it, or he might just cum in his pants.
Her hair is in a ponytail, and she’s wearing the same makeup she always does. Her lips are pinker than usual today. Roy knows it’s the strawberry-flavored gloss from VS because he’s seen her put it on a few times. At one point, he actually considered buying the same one just to know what her lips tasted like and maybe to try it himself, too but he’d rather die than be caught inside a Victoria’s Secret.
“Busy day, huh?” He cringes as the words come out, not only because it’s corny as shit, but also because it’s literally not busy. There isn’t a single customer in sight. Then again, maybe he can play it off as irony… Yeah, that’s exactly what he was doing. He’s a fucking genius.
“We really could’ve stayed home,” Abby sighs. She tugs at the collar of her shirt.
“You hot?”
“God, yes. I feel like I’m melting… Wish they’d fix the AC already.”
Today, she isn’t smiling at all. She looks bored out of her mind, leaning against the counter with a pout on her face. Roy thinks she’s really fucking hot indeed.
“Roy?”
He jumps when she says his name “What?”
She points toward the register. “It’s not opening. I think it’s broken?”
“Huh. That’s weird.”
Roy leans over to look at it. He already feels like a creep for standing this close to her, but Abby steps even closer as he fiddles with the machine. He can feel her next to him now, close enough that he catches a hint of her perfume underneath the smell of fryer grease and oil. Her skin looks so ridiculously soft and inviting from up close. He only wished she was shorter so he could see more of her cleavage, but he’s only a little taller than her, and wait, no, he’s not a fucking creep.
He’s not a creep, but he really, really wishes he could bite her neck, or her shoulder, or slide a hand under— Oh God. She was now so close her breast were pressed against his arm, nipple poking him. Her tits were naked under that shirt, and they were against him, for fuck’s sake. He clenched his jaw, trying not to let out a sound. He was this close to bending her over the counter, fucking hell. But would she want it? There’s no way she’d ever be into someone like him, right?
“Oh, never mind.” The machine clicks open, and Abby looks up at him. Even from this close, she’s unfairly pretty. Her eyeliner is slightly smudged at the corners from the heat, a few strands of hair have escaped her ponytail, and her lips are just so full, and soft, and inviting...
“Thanks anyways.”
“No problem.” His voice comes out weird. He hopes she blames it on puberty, nevermind that his ended literally years ago.
Roy stands there for a second longer than necessary before forcing himself to move. It takes him a few moments to get back behind his own register. Abby doesn’t seem to notice anything unusual, thankfully, and just goes back to leaning on the counter while staring at the empty lobby.
A full minute passes without a single customer. “I’m gonna go help Luke in the back,” Roy says.
“‘Kay.”
The second she looks away, Roy turns around and heads toward the employee hallway before she can make eye contact with him again. He pushes open the bathroom door, slips inside, the leans against the sink and stares at his reflection.
“Jesus Christ,” he mutters.
He can feel it already, poking his pants and pushing against his boxers. He locks himself inside a stall and unzips his pants, already breathing hard.
His boxers were so tight he sighed from relief and he pulled his cock out, his hand wrapping around it as he jerked it back and forth, and all he could think about was Abby. Abby’s sweaty, flushed face. Her unbuttoned shirt. How it would feel to feel her breasts over it, his hands twisting her nipples over the fabric. How she’d whimper and squirm under his touch, begging him to undress her, pressing her ass against his crotch, and he’d slide his hands under her shirt, finally able to touch her soft, sweaty skin directly.
He could almost hear Abby's desperate cries now, her body writhing on the floor, her pussy dripping slick for him. He imagined burying his face in her crotch, breathing in her scent, feeling the heat through her pants. His other hand slid up under his shirt to twist a nipple, a choked gasp escaping him.
Roy's cock was leaking as he pumped it faster, harder, and as images of Abby's face, her body, and her sounds flooded his mind. He pictured himself stripping her, exposing her to the bathroom's cold air, her nipples pebbling as he’d lick and bite them.
She’d then get on her knees, and gently kiss the tip of his cock. She’d start slow, her tongue exploring the sensitive underside as she’d take him deeper. Her free hand would tease his asshole before slipping a finger inside, and she’d be making loud, sloppy slurping sounds, completely unashamed. He’d feel her tongue caressing the underside of his shaft while blowing him, her saliva dripping onto her breasts, pooling in her cleavage as she continues sucking. At some point, he would reach out to brush the messy bangs off her face, tucking them behind her ears so he can see her better, print the memory onto his brain to be sure he’s not dreaming, because this would, without a doubt, be the sweetest, most blessed day of his life.
A string of profanity fell from Roy’s lips as he felt his climax building, pressure gathering at the base of his spine. His hand became a blur on his shaft, thumb circling the sensitive tip. His fantasy changed into an image of Abby, her face twisted in pleasure, her back arched as she came around his fingers. Fuck, he should’ve thought about this from the start. His thumb pressing her clit, his fingers moving in and out of her, her nails digging into his shoulders, walls tightening around him as she’d thrust herself deeper against his fingers.
He bit down on his lip, a strangled cry catching in his throat as he came, hot ropes of semen splattering against the stall door.
Post-nut clarity was about to be a bitch.