I don't love OCs but they are easy to use to advance the story. We don't know much about the character's lives outside the show, but adding the OCs make it a bit easier
Monica had never understood why women had dildos. She never craved penetration or the fullness that romance novels talked about. Orgasms and intimacy? Yes. But she never felt like she was missing something. However, right now, on the drive back to the office she was shifting uncomfortably in her seat and all she could think about was how good it would feel to have Gilfoyle inside of her. She texted El.
Monica [11:30 AM]: It is a very long story, too long to type, but it all ends in seeing Gilfoyle's hard naked dick. You remember when we went shopping and you got a dildo and I told you I didn't get it. I never craved that, well I get it now and wish I had gotten one too.
El [11:31 AM]: What a text to receive… and all I can say is told you so.
El [11:31 AM]: How's it compare to Matty's?
Monica [11:33 AM]: Not as long, but girthy.
Monica [11:33 AM]: I want to impale myself on it
Monica [11:33 AM]: That sounded so gross
Monica [11:33 AM]: I don't know, I want it. my head is spinning.
El [11:34 AM]: Woman! I just snorted coffee out of my nose lol
El [11:35 AM]: Movie night tonight? Chinese, booze, and a movie but actually just boy talk?
Monica [11:36 AM]: yes, if I haven't combusted by then or been arrested for public masturbation, or humping something
El [11:37 AM]: I mean who hasn't been there, see you around 7
Monica couldn't sit still, she was like a cat in heat. She felt him arrive at the office, somehow without turning to look she knew when he stepped off the elevator, she felt a pull between her legs.
Her phone beeped.
Gilfoyle [12:45 PM]: can we talk?
"Fucking Gilfoyle" she muttered at her desk turning her phone over
"I thought you'd be happy with him Monica; it's been a full week since he's been in the office," Jared popped out of nowhere to sit next to her.
"Jesus Christ Jared! We should get a bell for you," in this moment all Monica could think was I hope Jared can't tell how wet I am, I bet I smell like sex, I bet he knows, if anyone could tell just by looking it would be Jared.
"Oh, Uncle Jerry used to put a bell on me. It's why I walk so smoothly now, so I don't ring that bell" he punctuated the last few words with a little shimmy side to side, it was so unnerving Monica completely forgot how turned on she was.
"Right… I just wish he'd be a bit more professional" Monica hoped she said that with enough conviction.
"Well, every day is a chance for growth" Jared called as he glided away.
Monica had known Matty since they were toddlers. From pre-k to adulthood they were best friends. He had been her first everything, first kiss, first love, first for all the bases and all definitions of the bases, and first heart break, and her second heartbreak, and her third….
They dated on and off in high school, and somehow despite all the heartache when they were "off" they remained friends. They'd breakup one day, Monica would cry for two days straight and then call Matty to talk about the people they liked. Their beautiful—admittedly probably dysfunctional—relationship continued through college. After college, when one of them would get lonely they'd casually date (fuck), but it was truly just a deep friendship, that minus the sex, might have been considered sibling-like.
When Matty met El (Eliot), everything changed, but also nothing changed at all. El was like none of the men Matty had dated before and unlike any friend Monica had ever had. It was true love all around. El was everything she didn't know she needed in a friend. If they divorced and she had to choose she honestly didn't know who she would prefer. Matty was practically part of her soul, but El, El is the kind of man who will show up at your door with Dim Sum and dildos because you were experiencing a new kind of horny.
"Hello my lady love!" El's voice sang out as he let himself in. "I brought us food and booze and presents for you, and if we can watch a movie staring a Diane that'll round out the theme"
"Theme?" Monica questioned from the kitchen.
"It's D words baby! Dim Sum, Daiquiris, Dildos, and a Diane if we can swing it" Monica's face was burning as El rounded the corner in to the kitchen.
"You bought me a dildo?" she asked the question incredulously and slowly, reminding herself of the way she often questioned Richard.
"Well, I bought a selection. I went smaller than Matty but with some girth, and I tried to find one that matched the energy Matty described, so goth with a dash of rugged outdoorsman." He beamed at her, "and don't worry my dear prudence, I'm not going to try to help you or give a demonstration, I just wanted to give you options to scratch that itch before you got arrested fucking a gear shift or something. I'll put them on the coffee table."
"I guess I'll break out the blender then"
Ultimately no movie was watched, instead they drank, discussed Gilfoyle, and narrowed it down to two options, a swirling dark grey and a deep forest green. When Matty came at 2:00 am and picked El up, he voted for the swirling dark grey, and had Monica send an email letting Richard and Jared know she was taking a personal day because he knew 31-year-old Monica drinking like she just turned 21 was not going to be able to work tomorrow. As he carried his fiancé out, he chastised El for spending several hundred dollars on dildos and then opening them so they couldn't be returned, and Monica felt a pang of jealousy that she didn't have that.
Drunk and alone with newly dubbed Gil-do, Monica pondered her options. She still felt that ache, but she was also lonely…and Gilfoyle had wanted to talk….
Gilfoyle reached for his glasses and the phone fully prepared to rip whoever it was a new asshole as he had just drifted off, but a lump formed in his throat when he saw it was Monica.
"Monica?"
"Hi," she was slurring her words, clearly drunk, "you wanted to talk so let's talk."
"I'm not having that conversation if you're drunk," if they were going to talk feelings, he needed it to be face to face and sober.
"Fine," he cracked a smile at how petulant she sounded, but it quickly faded when she continued "then tell me about how you fantasize about me. I've been thinking about it all day."
"Monica" he groaned. She had been thinking about his fantasies? He didn't want to be too hopeful that it meant what he wanted it to mean, that she wanted him too. But despite himself he felt a pull in his stomach and was instantly hard.
"I even got a dildo because of you, seeing you naked and knowing you fantasize about me, gave me a new horny, and while I take care of that horny I want to hear about how you fantasize about me. I have a recurring one where you…." he needed to stop this.
"Monica stop" he interrupted her before she could finish a sentence that would probably make him cum on the spot. As it was, he felt like he was going to snap, and had started to drip precum.
"Why? Don't you want me? I just want to know how you want me." She sounded a little hurt. "I want you to tell me, I've been wet all day, I want you to tell me while I…"
"Monica please stop," He physically struggled to form the words. They were the hardest words he'd ever said in his life.
"Then tell me."
"I'm not doing this. I'm not telling you over the phone while you're drunk."
"Then come over. I want you."
"Monica please, this is cruel," it was, he was painfully hard, and it was clear she knew how he felt about her. He was being a good guy and it was like she was punishing him for it.
"Fine, I'll save the Gil-do and touching myself for later, but I'm awake and lonely so let's talk" it took every ounce of will power Gilfoyle had to not ask what the fuck a Gil-do was. "Why'd you break up with Tara?"
He avoided the question entirely, "we can talk tomorrow"
"Fine" he bet she was pouting. He wanted to kiss her.
She hung up, and he laid on his back. Harder than he'd ever been, he started to stroke himself but it felt it wrong like he was still taking advantage of her. Instead, he lay there till he heard Jared wake up.
Monica was woken up at 10 am by a ringing doorbell. She was naked on her couch and a dark grey dildo sat eye level on the coffee table. She felt like she'd died, but somehow managed to wrap a throw blanket around herself and make it down the hall to the door.
The door dash driver took one look at her and went from annoyed to apologetic, "I'm so sorry the delivery instructions said to ring the doorbell until someone answered."
Monica grunted and took the bags. She could feel her brain pulling away from the inside of her skull. There were bags with: a greasy breakfast sandwich, Thai basil fried rice, chilaquiles, Pedialyte, Gatorade, and Advil. Monica's brain hurt trying to process what this was. They were sent as gifts, and the attached note read:
If Jared asks, the gogol mogul and lizard soup were "delicious" "practically medicinal" and I delivered them exactly at 8 am.
Thought these options might be better. Wasn't sure what your go-to is. Mine is fried rice.
Monica felt something, but couldn't be bothered to name it. She found her phone on the floor next to the couch and climbed in to bed with the fried rice, some Gatorade, and Pedialyte.
Around 3 pm Monica woke up feeling surprisingly human, and figured she should rip off this talk band-aid today, so if things got weird, she would have the weekend to sort things out before seeing him on Monday.
Monica [03:00 PM]: I'm sorry about last night. Thank you for the delivery and saving me from whatever the fuck Jared wanted to send. Let's talk tonight. My place? After work?
Gilfoyle [03:00 PM]: 👍
Monica spent the next 2 hours with a knot in her stomach, but also butterflies. She felt nausea that had nothing to do with how much she drank yesterday, she was nervous. Her feelings for Gilfoyle were different from the men she'd dated before, even her ex-husband, so it did track that she'd have nervous school girl feelings, but Christ she loathed how immature she felt. She tried on 3 outfits, wanting something sexy, but casual and also comfortable because emotionally this would be uncomfortable, and physically her body still felt the effects of the previous night. Ultimately, she landed on a comfortable cotton bralette with lace overlay, a soft slouchy long sleeve boatneck top that sometimes slipped off her shoulder in a way she thought was casually sexy, and loose cotton pants. She tucked a cigarette into her bra.
At 5:00, she started to wonder if how long it took for Gilfoyle to get there had insight in to how he felt. She rolled her eyes at herself. God, how high school.
"If he comes early to homeroom every day for a week in means he likes me" she mocked herself with a whiney voice.
At 5:15, Gilfoyle knocked. Monica had to stop herself from sprinting to the door, when she opened it, she saw him standing there holding a grocery bag with more Gatoraid, two 6 packs of beer (1 her favorite and 1 his), and a pizza.
She waved him in with a sweep of her arm. "Kitchen is straight ahead."
"Didn't know if you'd be hungry…so I."," he offered by way of explanation as he placed his goods on the counter, Monica smirked at him, he was tangibly nervous. She idly wondered how long after she said they could talk did he leave work to collect these supplies.
Monica got out two plates. "Thank you, and thank you for the food this morning. What is lizard soup and goggle moggle exactly?"
"Jared said their traditional cold recipes his god daughter swore by. He defrosted some this morning, it didn't smell good, said he'd been saving some to fortify Richard one day. When I said I drop it off for him, he teared up and talked about my growth." Gilfoyle rolled his eyes.
Monica felt her stomach turn. "Thank you, I'm not sure I'm interested in any food prepped in that kitchen, let alone something with lizards. I'll tell him you even told me to feel better when you dropped it off, maybe he'll cry." Gilfoyle let out a small chuckle.
Monica settled in to the couch and curled up against the arm, Gilfoyle choose the chair, placing the coffee table and the length of the couch between them. Not promising, Monica thought.
"I" they both started at the same time, but only Monica continued.
"I'm sorry for last night. And embarrassed. We can both safely assume at this point I know what you meant, and last night… well.. I like you too… or whatever" Monica trailed off. She honestly could not think of a time she had ever been more uncomfortable, felt more awkward, or had no idea what to say. And she worked with Peter fucking Gregory, the king of uncomfortable silences and genius non-sequiturs, for years.
"Yeah" they sat in silence again, it felt like hours and was physically painful for Monica to not fill the silence, but something in her gut told her to wait. Gilfoyle started again "I'm sorry for avoiding you after my 'immature disclosure'… I just…" Monica internally screamed Jesus fucking Christ it's like pulling blood from a stone, come on! But externally gave what she hoped was a reassuring half smile "feel differently about you."
Monica was internally battling her romantic side with its anxiety over these feelings and insecurity, and her confident woman in business side that wanted to take control and steam roll over Gilfoyle. There was also residual annoyance at the 51% attack declaration, and embarrassment over trying to initiate phone sex with him last night. It felt like she was drowning in emotion.
"I get that. This whole thing" she gestured between them "is an emotional cluster fuck. And in the past 3 weeks we've both behaved like children," Monica saw Gilfoyle tense maybe a little too much, but fuck it "we definitely can't keep going like this, it's effecting our work, and I don't know about you, but my personal life as well." She told him, trying her best to keep her usual confident tone while she went and grabbed them both a beer. "So…" she handed him a beer and settled on the side of couch closest to him "let's calm our nerves a little, quit being pussies about this, and just lay it out there. Sound good?" Monica was surprised her hand wasn't shaking when she brought the beer to her lips.
Gilfoyle tilted the beer to her in a cheers gesture before taking a sip. He looked at her, studying her face for just a moment before swallowing and saying "sure."
There was an excruciatingly long silence, guess I'm going first, fucking asshole.
"I did not appreciate you blurting that out in the office," Monica saw Gilfoyle's eyes show the smallest amount of panic, "but if you had waited for me to finish swallowing before backtracking, I would have asked if you wanted to go grab a bite." Gilfoyle said nothing, but gave a curt nod, fucking asshole Monica thought again. "Because I like you too," Monica rolled her eyes at the phrasing, she couldn't help it. She felt like she was in middle school. Rummaging in the side table for a lighter she continued.
"And I knew what you meant because you weren't exactly subtle about it, asshole." Monica kicked her self internally great, insult him to his face, that'll get him talking but she was encouraged when she saw Gilfoyle give just the slightest hint of a smile. "And then you avoided me, which made me so fucking pissed, did you think I was an idiot? Like I didn't know exactly what you meant?"
She stood up and starting pacing, picking up speed and letting it all out. Punctuating her sentences by turning to look at him and emphasizing her frustration with a jab of her cigarette in his direction. "Honestly! Your staring was so bad, I'm surprised you didn't burn a whole in my head, and the whole thing with the kitchen?! Following me and to grab yet another spoon for your cereal so we could bump shoulders? I'm not a social oblivious tech nerd Gilfoyle, and you aren't the first autistic tech genius to "like" me. I noticed when you kept brushing up against me casually," she paused and looked at him, he looked a little offended and maybe mad, but not enough to stop her from unleashing all the thoughts she's had in the past 3 weeks.
"And seriously, I know you are socially thicker than pig shit, but how did you not notice that I liked you?! Do you think I would have stayed up all night making coffee for Richard or Dinesh? I literally did nothing all night but sit there and watch you. I could have gone home! It was reasonable for me to go home! But I stayed and played footsie with you like a fucking preteen school girl! And lit your cigarettes just so I could brush against your face, and made coffee like your fucking secretary, probably setting women back in the workplace fucking decades. Just so I could spend some time with you! Or did you think it was just because you trapped me there by using my computer instead of your rig?" Gilfoyle's faced changed, he looked a little shocked at that last bit, Monica felt shocked too and a little sad liked she'd just kicked a puppy. Gilfoyle honestly thought he had manipulated her in to staying. That realization made it all click in to place, he didn't realize she liked him back because he thought that whole night, he had selfishly trapped her there. That's one of the reasons he backtracked, admitting he liked her was risking her realizing he had held her hostage. It sucked the air from her lungs, took the wind right from her sails, she sat down on the couch heavily looking at him softly. "Oh…you did think that didn't you?"
"Clearly, I was mistaken," he said with his usual slow monotone. Changing the topic "Thicker than pig shit?" He smiled at her, a real smile, it made her heart flutter.
"I don't know, my parents say it, I think it means you're an idiot" she said with a dismissive wave of her hand, "and seriously? That's what you're focusing on?" she could feel her irritation rising again.
"No" he said levelly.
"Gilfoyle!" she snapped at him, causing him to smirk.
"Let me digest all of that," he was still smirking and Monica's cheeks flushed with embarrassment and she felt like slapping him would feel cathartic, instead she opted for aggressively extinguishing her cigarette in the ash tray. She had laid it out, she had taken the lead, the least this asshole could do was give something back!
"You're even more beautiful when you're angry," he started slowly and Monica was torn between swooning and rolling her eyes, but opted to stay perfectly still like he was a skittish animal. "I didn't see it, I was—I am—still processing how, or why, I feel about you like I do. I'd go to the kitchen with you to test it, brushing up against you sets my skin on fire and gives me," he paused and looked a little sick as he choked out, "…butterflies."
Monica couldn't stop herself from giggling, Gilfoyle smirked at her "that's not helping."
"I'm sorry, but the big bad Satanist has butterflies? From me?" She playfully batted her eyelashes at him.
"Yes," he rolled his eyes.
"Me too" she smiled at him and his whole body relaxed, "I haven't gotten them since middle school. I wouldn't call it setting my skin on fire though" she continued with a somewhat academic tone, like she was talking out a business strategy with Jared, "it's more like my whole skin aches," she shook her head and smiled at him "either way it's some deeply embarrassing romance novel bullshit."
With the air in the room a little more relaxed Monica wanted to dive right in to the heavy shit again, "Why'd you break up with Tara?"
Gilfoyle loudly exhaled a "fuck," before asking "In general, or specifically what made me do it last week?"
"We can start with in general," she smiled at him, her tone lightly teasing.
"Tara never gave me… butterflies." He locked eyes with her and gave a soft smile, looking away again before continuing. "It was something I'd been thinking about since I started" he gestured between them, "with you. I liked her, I thought I loved her, but it never felt like this… not that I love you… or… you know what I mean" he quickly covered while Monica laughed at his wording.
"Yeah, I know what you mean. What made last week the time to pull the trigger, you couldn't let us have one crisis free week?"
"In my defense, I did not think she would do that. The shared foundational beliefs that grounded our relationship and the emotional and physical distance… I thought… I didn't expect her to do that," Gilfoyle looked to Monica like he still didn't understand why Tara had retaliated. She let his pause linger, waiting for him to continue.
"I experienced jealousy when I saw you with that dick at the office," he was being so serious Monica had to literally bite her tongue to keep from laughing, mission accomplished Matty "…it.. shifted things… You can't be in a hedonistic polyamorous relationship and experience jealously like that. Jealousy is a normal human emotion, but wanting to punch someone? That intensity is incompatible with polyamory," he exhaled loudly and shook his head, "with Tara, I was never jealous at all, I liked watching her with other men, or knowing about it."
Monica made a non-committal "hmm," sound.
"Honesty was a foundational pillar of our relationship, continuing when I was going through fundamental shifts in my perception of, I guess I'd say intimacy but that's not right, was categorically in opposition to my beliefs as a Satanist. She didn't take it well when I told her. I don't know why."
"You told Tara, a woman who loved you, that you developed feelings for another woman like you had never experienced before?" Monica figured she should help him out with this one. "That your feelings for this woman were so strong you experienced intense jealousy for the first time in your life, and you don't understand why she got mad."
"Our relationship was not bound by traditional heteronormative monogamistic values," Monica held up a hand stopping him.
"But you are both still human, you both have pride and feelings. I don't know Tara, but I imagine she was hurt that she didn't cause those feelings in you, even it was just her pride that was hurt." There was a pause well Gilfoyle thought that over, then Monica continued "you've really never experienced jealous?"
"Never."
"Even when she fucked other people?"
"Do you know what compersion is?" He continued, not pausing to see if Monica knew or not, "It's when someone takes pleasure in seeing their loved one being gratified by another person. It's the opposite of jealousy. You weren't even fucking that asshole in front of me, he was just putting his hand on your lower back… my reaction… it raised a red flag."
Monica couldn't help herself from trying to lighten the mood a little. There was even more tension in the air than when they had sat down and she didn't understand why, but she was desperate to break it. With a sly smile she said "so… watching Matty fuck me is out of the question," and when Gilfoyle's hands tensed, she couldn't contain her laughter. But somehow, even though it was clear she had been joking Gilfoyle was still tense, the mood was still tumultuous and stormy, clearly this ran deeper than Monica understood and experiencing jealousy had caused an existential crisis in Gilfoyle.
"I cloned your phone," he whispered, his eyes glued to the coffee table, like his life depended on watching the pizza cool.
He did what?!