Office Fic

[michals]

Gah, I am sooo sorry for spamming you guys but...I have written fic. Again. Holy nutballs Batman, I don't know what's come over me.

Also, it's fairly obvious to me now that I avoid dialogue like the plague.

Title: Untitled so far...
Fandom: The Office US
Pairing: Jim/Ryan with Jim/Pam overtones
By: authormichals
Rating/Warnings: Probably an R, language, suggestive things, abuse of commas like whoa
Disclaimer: Don’t own.
Spoilers: Set after season 2 Casino Night, so no.
Summary: Ryan Howard has hypnotizing lips.


Ryan Howard has hypnotizing lips.

Jim may be a romantic type of guy, but he's still a guy, and to say he hasn't noticed all the, well, more attractive components of the office would be naive. And, really, a lot of it has to do with boredom and the ever necessary need to kill time.

Hell, even Jim Halpert will admit that Dwight's got some big blue eyes on him that, if attached to anyone else in the world, would probably be fairly hypnotizing in their own right.

But no matter how he flitters from Angela's justifiably nice ass and Kelly's smooth dark skin and, ever present in the back of his mind, Pam's smile, and Pam's hair, and Pam's laugh and Pam's...everything, he finds himself dwelling on Ryan's pink, very pink, cupid bow lips.

And hey, talk about big blue eyes.

And he's an honest type of guy, or at least he tries to be, especially to himself. And he's never denied his all consuming love of Pamela Beesly (though maybe he'll fudge on the degree of the infatuation), so when it comes down to it - usually at 3 am when he's already exhausted all of his fantasies of Pam and thinking about it any further only makes him sad and more restless - he will admit, to himself, that he finds Ryan Howard attractive.

Which really comes in handy when he's touching himself and thinking of Ryan's lips on his cock.

And it's not the same yearning he has for Pam, which feels achy and desperate; with Ryan it's like an itching, right in his finger tips.

He can't, he's found, engage Ryan, can't talk to him for longer than mere minutes, can't strike up a conversation that will hold his interest for very long. And Jim knows that Ryan's chomping the bit, ready to run as far away from Scranton Pennsylvania as he can get as soon as the opening comes. He knows that Ryan's desk drawers are empty.

Jim's still hold the yogurt lids and paperclips from their Office Olympics, hot sauce packets and notes Pam wrote for him. Things as simple as "Your Mom called", in her girly scrawl, still tucked away, saved from the trash bin.

And he puts down the itch to the half formed want of pinning Ryan down. Of just grabbing his shoulders and, and...holding him there just long enough...

In more maudlin - and, in reality, more honest - moments, he ponders vaguely if that has anything to do with the encroaching notion that he may never get that opening, may never fly the coop like Ryan is so anxious to do.

So when Ryan stumbles out of the warehouse, tipsy and distracted looking, the sounds of Casino Night momentarily flooding the parking lot, long after Pam's fled the scene, her hair still perfect, the sheen of her dress catching the streetlights, and Ryan looks him full in the face and doesn't ask if anything's wrong despite Jim's beet red face and watery eyes, Jim lets whatever strong emotion he feels next take the wheel.

Luckily, for Ryan, it's not anger.

Ryan's body makes a sharp thud as he hits the side of the building, Jim's hands curled in his suit jacket. He doesn't even let the confused look on Ryan's face stop him before he's smashed his mouth against those damned tempting, hypnotizing, infuriating lips of his.

And he doesn't know what happened between Ryan and Kelly, if that's the reason behind Ryan's distracted look, or if maybe Michael pinched his ass or whatever. Right now he can't give a flying fuck because Pam is gone after flat out rejecting him, not just the idea of him, not the flirting, the gossiping and giggling and joking, of the past four years, just him right out, and all he wants is not to feel like tearing his heart out with a knife. But, whatever did happen, Ryan responds in kind, grabbing at him and kissing back like a dying man searching for air.

And he notices all kinds of things he didn't notice, or couldn't notice, about Ryan before now. The silky feel of his dark curls through his fingers and the jumpy flat stomach under Jim's hands, or his really great ass as he pulls him closer so they grind against each other through their clothes. All those things he couldn't see with Pam, always in the back of his mind.

Because right now Pam's not in the back of his mind, she's run full force to the front, occupying every nerve and brain cell, setting everything on fire in her wake, but Ryan's there too and Ryan's kissing back and moaning around his tongue and if it takes Pam to fuel this strange uninhibited spontaneous jaunt into his more primal side, right now he'll take it. Because, again, it feels better than tearing his heart out.

And when they finally pull apart to breathe, gasping breaths of air between them, Jim silently begs Ryan not to ask questions.

And Ryan Howard flinches under his fingers, eyes darting around the empty lot, and Jim has a sudden burning want to know if Ryan really will run away, really will go as far as he hopes to someday. And a question forms, one he really doesn't want the answer to, if Ryan's doing this for the exact opposite, and yet the exact same, reasons Jim is.

Ryan jerks his head toward his car and says "My roommate's gonna be gone tonight."

Jim just nods and slowly extracts his limbs from around Ryan, and Ryan pauses and looks him in the eye for a breath, and Jim matches his gaze for just long enough, and then Ryan pushes off from the wall and leads him to his car. Jim spares a glance around, sweeping the dim parking lot for a sign, a sign of anything about...God, what to do after this, before following Ryan to his car. He wonders if he'll always take that last look back.