Work Text:
Grace spun around in his chair, his class playlist playing quietly from his phone. His half-eaten sandwich sat on the table, getting colder by the minute.
Should I? No. Well, our classrooms are right next to each other. he thought, his glasses sliding off of his face.
At the beginning of this year, the previously vacant classroom next to Grace’s was suddenly filled with posters, tools, and raw materials. In all the years Grace had worked at Grover Cleveland Middle, he’d never seen a teacher in that classroom.
In days long past, there had been a shop class. The position apparently closed because the one teacher who taught it for 40 years retired, and since the classroom was so huge and dusty, it didn’t make sense to give it to another class. It was truly a small warehouse, with giant group tables welded to the ground. It wouldn’t have worked for a different subject.
Apparently, no replacement shop teacher was found, and eighth-grade students took an extra art class instead to fill the space.
Until now.
Grace didn’t meet him until the second day of school. He went by Rocky with both students and teachers. Not a rare phenomenon these days, Grace supposed, although there wasn’t anyone else at this school who went by their first name with the kids.
The guy didn’t really look how Grace expected him to. Rocky most often wore coveralls, and he had dark hair with a couple of thick strands of grey. Grace didn’t really know how to explain it, but he was… so good at having hair. There was never any strand out of place, and every time he saw him it still looked great. It was like he didn’t even have to try to look put together. Grace’s hair, on the other hand, was absolutely distressed by the end of the school day, and even in the mornings it wasn’t the best. The bike helmet didn’t help.
Grace also noticed that Rocky had some barely visible tattoos on his neck that trailed down his arm. They just looked like lines and dots, but Grace found them very cool. He could never get a tattoo on his neck. He’d gotten one on his forearm in college, and that hurt. It was all blotchy and faded now, you could barely tell what it was meant to be.
Rocky was taller than Grace by maybe an inch, and he looked to be around Grace’s age, late thirties to early forties. There was no reason for them not to get along, at least as co-workers.
A month into the school year, Grace had not yet introduced himself. They were neighbors, so he felt like he should talk to Rocky—but maybe he would find that annoying? The pressure of making a good first impression often made Grace want to avoid making an impression at all.
He sighed. It was getting pathetic at this point. There was no reason to be so intimidated! They were both teachers at the same school. He should be able to introduce himself without fearing being a little awkward.
He swiveled around to his desk and took another bite of sandwich. He had to man up and go say hello to his neighbor.
He got up. And then sat back down. And then sighed. And then got up and walked to the door. And went back to his desk and sighed again.
Why was he so nervous?
The unfortunate answer was, Rocky seemed cool. And Grace could admit to himself that he, objectively, was not. He didn’t want to annoy Rocky by bothering him, and he didn’t want to embarrass himself by irritating Rocky.
Grace sighed once more. The bell rang. He quickly shoved his sandwich into his mouth and started cleaning up for incoming students.
Tomorrow. I’ll visit him tomorrow.
Tomorrow, Grace paced around his room.
Should I just walk in? What do I say? Hi, I’m Ryland Grace, I’ve been totally ignoring you for a month. Wanna be best buds?
He tossed his hacky sack Earth up and caught it. Okay. This was getting ridiculous.
He decided to go for the strategy that managed to get him into the seat of every single rollercoaster he’d ever been on, and decided to march out of his classroom and into Rocky’s without giving himself another minute to worry about it.
Except, before he was even able to make it out of his classroom, someone walked in. And he nearly walked right into them.
“Oof, sorry.” he instinctively said, taking a big step back.
“Ah, be careful.”
Grace looked up. Oh crap. Rocky.
He was slightly less intimidating up close, which helped.
“Ahem. What can I do you for?” Grace managed.
Rocky’s arms were crossed. Am I in trouble? Grace thought, which, again, didn’t really make sense because they were both teachers and also the same age.
“You’re Dr. Grace?”
Grace sort of just stared, not really sure what to say and a little caught off guard.
“…Question, not a statement.”
“Ah, yes! Yes. Sorry, yes, I’m Dr. Grace.” he said, remembering basic manners.
“Wonderful. Rocky.” he said, putting out a hand. Grace shook it. Wow, he thought, this guy’s got the warmest hands ever.
“Our rooms are right next to each other, so I thought I’d better come in and introduce myself.” Rocky said, and then he walked right past Grace and started looking through his drawers.
“Woah! Uh, hey, that’s my stuff!” Grace said, which, y’know, obviously. But he didn’t really know what else to do.
“I know. Wow, these are really messy.” Rocky said, humming a little as he went from cabinet to cabinet.
“I didn’t really know someone would be looking through my drawers!”
“That’s fine.” Rocky spoke, rifling through Grace’s stuff until he managed to find a bin full of scissors and glue. “There we go,” he said, grabbing a pair of scissors. “Borrowing these. Thank you.”
Grace could barely squeak out an “Oh, okay!” before Rocky had already exited the room.
Grace looked around. He felt like he’d just been sitting in the center of a tornado.
“…He’s a shop teacher and he doesn’t have his own scissors?”
The next day, Rocky showed up during the lunch break with Grace’s scissors in hand.
“Hi. I have something for you.”
“Oh! Thank you.” Grace said, taking them from Rocky and getting up from his desk to return them to their proper bin. “Glad you found what you were looking for.”
Grace turned around after putting the scissors back and noticed Rocky was still standing in the doorway, arms crossed.
“Lots of Bill Nye today.” he said.
Grace grinned, a little surprised. “Yeah. How’d you know?”
“We share a wall.”
Ah.
“The kids love him. And I can throw him on and secretly grade while they’re distracted.” Grace said, returning to his chair.
“Smart.” Rocky said, and he nodded. For some reason, Grace felt very happy. “I put on MythBusters on Fridays.”
“Niiice.” Grace said, grabbing his hacky sack and tossing it from hand to hand. “Good choice.”
Rocky smiled. It was the tiniest smile ever, but Grace saw it. He was proud of himself.
For the next few weeks, Rocky continued to visit Grace. He’d come to borrow something and return the next day to bring it back. He lingered until the bell rang every time, and eventually Rocky started to bring his lunch to Grace’s room. They talked, mostly about mundane things, but it passed the time much better than sitting and grading alone. Sometimes they both sat silently doing their own thing next to each other, Grace grading or sometimes playing Minesweeper and Rocky quietly knitting.
These moments of bonding meant a lot more to Grace than they probably should’ve. It was the most basic show of platonic affection, and yet Grace felt his heart swell every time he heard Rocky knock on his door. He found himself excited for lunch every day. He cherished the short conversations.
Sometimes he felt a little embarrassed of how much he liked spending time with Rocky. He hoped Rocky didn’t notice and think he was some sort of weirdo who got way too attached to anyone who barged into his room unannounced.
One day, Rocky came in and instead of heading straight for Grace’s drawers, he walked up to his desk and placed down a paper. It was an advertisement for a collection of drag performances at a local bar and restaurant Grace had never been to.
“You should come,” Rocky said. “I think you’ll like it.” He winked then, which severely confused Grace.
Grace looked at the paper and blinked. “Uh. Sure.” he said, a little surprised. “I’ll be there.”
“Great.” Rocky said.
“Why’d you?-…” he started to ask, but Rocky had already gotten up and left.
Grace looked at the paper again. Huh. He’d never gone to a drag show before. Could be fun. He was free when it was happening (because most of the time he spent his Saturday evenings watching terrible TV or building an overly complicated LEGO set), so why not give it a go?
He hadn’t really expected Rocky to be a fan of drag. That’s fun.
For the entirety of that Saturday, Grace fretted. He looked up a bunch of videos about how to act at a drag show, what you should do, what’s respectful and what’s a hard no. He chose suitable attire (he hoped, but because his wardrobe consisted mostly of t-shirts the pickings were slim) and filled his pockets with all the cash he had, which was a handful of ones and a single five.
He wondered if he’d see Rocky. He didn’t know the layout of this bar, but maybe they’d run into each other? He kind of hoped they would. For some reason.
He really hoped there’d be somewhere to put his bike. Actually, who takes their bike to a bar?
Grace realized, very sadly, that he hadn’t been in a bar in probably 10 years. Maybe he could get an Uber to avoid the trouble?
Grace checked the price of an Uber to the bar and very quickly put on his bike helmet. Nope.
So, after a lot of pedaling, he arrived. Luckily there was a spot to put his bike, which was some good luck he’d been needing.
The bar was warm and very dark, with faint purple and green lights illuminating the space. Grace almost tripped over someone’s foot three times before he managed to find a seat and order a beer. He knew he was probably not going to drink it all, but forked over his card anyway. 90% of life is spending money, he thought, sadly taking a tiny sip of his beer.
He felt a little weird showing up alone to a bar, but Rocky had to be around… somewhere. With the lights so low, he could barely make out anyone’s face.
He was lost in thought when there was a sudden loud noise that almost made him knock over his drink. It’s starting, he thought, and he turned to face a tiny stage an announcer had just stepped out onto. He clapped with everyone else.
He was across the bar but he could still get some good visibility—the place was pretty small. The announcer did all the announcing things, told everyone to put their phones away, don’t touch the performers, don’t get in the way of the choreography or you’d probably get smacked out of the way. This was all stuff Grace already knew, and he was glad that he’d looked up all the right stuff.
Then, the show started, and a song started to play.
After the first performer finished up her song, Grace found himself a little surprised by how much fun it was. Rocky was right. He did like this. Speaking of Rocky, Grace still hadn’t seen hide nor hair of him. He silently wondered if maybe Rocky hadn’t come. Was he sick? Grace would feel bad if he showed up to school on Monday talking about how great it was if Rocky hadn’t been able to show up.
Then the next song started to play. It was electronica, and it kind of sounded like… alien music? Grace couldn’t think of a better description, as silly as it sounded. There was a specific sound to it that you normally only heard in old sci-fi movies. Or the Doctor Who theme song.
The last performer’s name had been announced over a speaker, but this time, instead of a name, there was just a collection of loud trilling and chirping sounds over the mic. It kinda sounded like a cat underwater.
The next queen emerged from the curtains, lip syncing to a robotic voice piping from the speakers. They wore very tall heels, and they were decorated in lots of tiny little pieces of metal and confetti. Grace thought they seemed familiar, squinting from across the bar.
Huh. They’re gorgeous, Grace thought as they walked across the bar, dancing and collecting tips.
There was something absolutely ethereal about them, almost inhuman— Grace just stared as they grew ever closer.
Only when they were a few feet away did Grace notice something.
They had a tattoo. A neck tattoo, specifically, lines and dots, that trailed down to their arm and hand.
Then they turned, and Grace got a much better look at their face.
Aw, fuck. Grace thought. That’s Rocky.
A slow grin spread across Rocky’s face as they spotted each other.
Time seemed to stop for a second as thoughts flooded through Grace’s mind. Rocky invited you. Of course they’d be doing drag! It made sense, but for some reason, Grace hadn’t considered it. Rocky in drag. Rocky in drag. For some reason it didn’t seem real.
Grace fumbled for his pocket and pulled out his single 5 dollar bill, folding it and holding it out. Nervously.
It was only a moment before Rocky was circling his table, mouthing lyrics that Grace was no longer paying attention to. Grace averted his eyes as he held out his money. Oh my god. Oh my god, his brain repeated.
Rocky leaned in so close that Grace could feel their breath on his face as they grabbed the bill. Jesus. Grace looked down at his shoes, feeling heat spreading across his face. A warm and uncomfortable feeling was materializing in the pit of his stomach.
Okay, so he’d formed a little tiny crush on Rocky at work. That was fine. Everybody had a crush on a co-worker at some point. It was just imperative not to act on it. But this was something different. This was… Rocky was…
Well, super mind-meltingly hot. Unfortunately. Grace felt like a pervert just for thinking it. You’re attracted to your co-worker, you weirdo! something chimed in his head.
Now Grace couldn’t stop thinking about all the other times he’d seen Rocky. He frantically realized that yes, they’d been hot the whole time and somehow Grace had been too busy admiring their confidence to notice.
He’d known that Rocky was handsome, of course, but now Grace was realizing with increasing urgency that they were sexy. And every thought deepened the blush blooming on his face. Stop thinking about it, he reprimanded himself. Stop. Quit. Stop that!
Back in reality, Rocky was finishing their song. Grace was staring at the table. His beer sat completely untouched next to him. He knew he wasn’t gonna finish that.
The rest of the night sort of drifted along. Grace liked the other queens. He tipped, obviously, and he clapped when they entered and exited. But something was lingering in the back of his head and it was slightly distracting.
Mostly it was ROCKY IN DRAG OH MY GOD, but also there was a lot of HHRGGGHH.
At the end of the night, he left. He’d barely had half of the beer. He was mad about that. It was very expensive.
As he put on his helmet by the entrance, he spotted something in the corner of his eye. Something shiny.
Ohmygod.
“You came.”
“Of course!” Grace replied, smiling at Rocky and trying not to freak the hell out.
“You liked it?” Rocky asked. Their wig was gone, but they were still in the dress and heels.
“Uh- Yeah. Yes. I did. I had a lot of fun.” Grace said, frantically fiddling with his bike lock. “You were, uh. Great.”
Why do you have to talk so much all the time? he thought to himself, starting to feel physically pained by how awkward he was.
Rocky snickered. It was a high-pitched sound.
“Thanks.” Rocky said, and pulled out a folded $5 bill. “You weren’t so bad either.”
“Hey, only the best for my neighbor.” Grace answered.
He kind of wanted to fall into a hole. And never come out.
Rocky smiled. “See you at school.”
“See you!” Grace replied a little too loudly, and he watched Rocky turn back into the bar.
Grace sat in bed, staring at the ceiling.
It had been a long time since he’d dated. Ever since the whole thing with Mark, Grace decided to take some time for himself.
A lot of time, actually.
When he was younger, Grace often wondered about himself. He didn’t often get “crushes” on people, and when he did, they were rarely strong enough to lead to actual relationships. He admired people. He found people handsome or pretty. But he could rarely picture himself in a relationship with someone. Romance was never a part of his long-term goals.
He questioned his sexuality for a long time in his college years. Eventually, he’d determined that he just didn’t feel attracted to people in that way, regardless of if they were a man or woman.
Until now, obviously.
Grace didn’t know what exactly it was that made Rocky different than anyone else he’d ever met. He’d seen plenty of beautiful people, but none of them made his heart skip the way Rocky did. The feeling was new, and it was really hard to tell if it exhilarated him or frightened him.
There was a space in Grace’s heart that had always felt a little hollow, and he was beginning to worry that Rocky fit into that space perfectly.
He cringed inwardly at himself as he replayed Rocky’s laugh over and over in his head. Oh man. This was really bad.
Grace spent Monday morning waiting for lunch.
He decided to take it easy on his kids that day— he gave them a worksheet and a crossword for when they finished. One of his classes ended up devolving into a paper airplane competition and another had the entire group of 23 kids arguing over which element would be the coolest to be (Grace was rooting for a kid who was willing to die on the hill of Fluorine).
The moment the bell rang at 11:30 and all his kids had filtered out to go to lunch, Grace took a very deep breath and walked to Rocky’s room.
The room was huge and incredibly spacious. He noticed as he peeked in that Rocky was talking with a student, so he waited patiently by the door. About a minute later, the kid walked out of the room.
“Hi, Dr. Grace.” he said, stopping in his tracks.
“Hello, Elijah.” Grace replied, putting on his best Composed Teacher Face.
“Are you friends with Mr. Rocky?” Elijah asked, looking suddenly very suspicious.
“Most teachers are friends, bud.” Grace lied, giving him a pat on the back and ushering him to lunch. Elijah left without protest, but Grace knew he had some sort of Agenda brewing. He always did.
Grace peeked into the room again.
Rocky was perched in his chair like a gargoyle, knitting. After a second he looked up and waved Grace in.
Grace stepped in and made his way over to the desk. Rocky appeared to be making some sorta garment, although Grace couldn’t really tell what it was supposed to be at this point in the process.
“Welcome.” Rocky said.
“This room is huge,” Grace replied, because it was the first thing that came to mind.
“Yeahhh.” Rocky hummed. “It holds all my stuff.”
“Can I ask what it is you do in here?” Grace asked.
Rocky looked around as he recalled. “Engineering club. A little bit of welding. Woodworking. Some 3D design projects.” He shrugged. “You’ve never taken a shop class?”
“Not willingly.” Grace admitted, sitting on a stool near Rocky’s desk. “I was a home ec kid.”
“Not surprising.” Rocky said, going back to working on his knitting.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Grace asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Exactly what you think it does.” Rocky huffed.
Grace gasped, pretending to be offended. Rocky pointedly ignored him.
“What’re you knitting?” Grace asked.
“A beanie.” Rocky flipped around his laptop to show Grace the pattern. He understood absolutely none of the things he was reading but nodded like he did anyway.
“Very nice.”
“You can have it when I’m done.” Rocky said.
“Oh, no, that’s okay.” Grace said, chuckling nervously.
“It’s no problem.” Rocky glanced up at Grace.
“It’s fine, really. I’ve got beanies at home.” Grace repeated.
“Let me make you a hat, Grace.” Rocky said, his voice suddenly very serious.
“Okay.” Grace sighed. There was no winning when Rocky had his mind set on something, he’d noticed.
“Mhm.” Rocky replied, satisfied.
There was a minute of silence as Grace stared at his hands and Rocky continued working.
“I really liked the show on Saturday.” Grace eventually said.
“Yes. You said so.”
“I was just wondering… if you wanted… could you invite me again next time?”
Rocky smiled. “Yes.”
Grace exhaled, relieved. “Okay. Awesome.”