Everyone else is already gone with their sweaty shirts and duffel bags. Ryan sits impatiently on a bench to the side of the court, watches Pam talk with Jim in the parking lot outside and wishes for the tenth time that the hot receptionist would get over Halpert and maybe look at him sometime. His hair’s slick with sweat and his shirt’s soaked damp, clinging to his back. All he really wants is for Derek to come back with his car and pick him up, but his roommate’s not so good with the whole time thing and it could be a while.

Roy and Darryl come out of the little side office with towels slung over their shoulders, nod once each at him and walk on. Then Darryl turns back and looks at Ryan and says, “What’re you doing here?”

“My roommate’s late with his car,” Ryan says, idly kicking at the end of his old soccer bag still facing him.

“Dude,” Roy chuckles. “You look like you need a shower.”

Ryan doesn’t say anything, just looks at Darryl as he reaches up onto some shelf and pulls down another towel. “C’mon. We’ve got a shower out back. There’s traffic all up the interstate, so your ride’ll be a while.”

Ryan stands up, grateful. “You have a shower in the warehouse?”

Darryl winks. “Don’t tell Michael.”

Ryan catches the towel that Darryl throws at him and feels a little bit of geeky euphoria that reminds him all too much of high school. Darryl’s shoulder bumps into Roy’s now and then as they lead him into a little room, through a closet full of old broken shelves and finally into a locker room.

“This building used to be a gym,” Darryl explains, setting his towel onto a bench and opening a locker.

“Gold’s Gym,” Roy smirks as he opens his own. “Just grab any locker, they’re all open. It’ll be yours.”

“Who else knows about this?” Ryan finds himself asking as he sits awkwardly on the end of the bench.

Darryl pulls his sweaty shirt over his head and lays it on his end of the bench. Ryan can’t not stare at the muscles as Darryl pulls a few things out of the locker and slams it shut. “Just the warehouse guys. Nobody from the office but you.”

“Why not?”

He chuckles again, and the familiar high school feeling is back in Ryan’s gut. “Everybody else’s got a shower to go home to.”

Ryan’s gaze pans over to Roy, who’s out of his shirt and down to his boxers. Ryan’s hands move cautiously to the hem of his own shirt as Darryl pulls his basketball shorts down and off. Ryan’s only vaguely aware of the sound of Roy’s locker slamming shut as Roy steps out of his boxers and turns slightly toward him, muscles shifting under his skin.

Then Darryl takes off his briefs and turns to face Ryan, and Ryan’s pretty sure this is very close to the very last thing he thought he’d be doing at Dunder Mifflin. “You gonna take your shower with all your clothes on?” Darryl laughs as Roy chortles and steps around him to enter the communal shower, the sound of the laughter echoing around the space. Ryan turns away from the two naked men – oh my God, naked men? – and takes off his clothes, self-consciously steps into the shower as Roy starts the water running under his showerhead. Darryl steps up next to him like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and Ryan awkwardly moves to the one beside Darryl’s just because just because.

There’s soap on a little tray beside the water temperature control, and Ryan turns his back to the other naked, showering warehouse men – oh Jesus… - and lathers himself up, tries to take the fastest shower he’s ever taken and has just resolved to repress this memory when Roy makes a sound that makes him drop the soap from his hands.

“Uhhnn.”

Darryl chuckles. “Control yourself, Anderson.”

Ryan can’t help it; he turns around. Roy’s feet are planted on either side of his shower drain and his thick hands are around a similarly thick cock, pumping up and down and up and down and his lips are curled in a lazy smile. “Like you’ve never jerked off in a shower before.”

Darryl laughs again, easygoing, and Ryan’s stomach does gymnastics when Darryl’s hands move to the thing that Ryan’s been trying to ignore. “True that. Ryan, do you mind?”

“No,” Ryan says all too quickly, and bends down to grab the dropped soap to hide the blushing on his face. This is definitely high school all over again.

Ryan resumes his shower with trembling fingers now, because Darryl and Roy are grunting and Roy’s so loud and when he shoots he makes this noise like he’s been punched in the gut by Oscar de la Hoya. Ryan tries not to, but he thinks about Pam, and then to his horror he feels himself stirring. He hastily rubs it with more soap to do something about it, but his touch only makes it worse.

Darryl’s brow is clenching and his jaw is setting as his hands pick up their pace. “God, I can’t seem to…fuck…”

“Here, let me.” Before he knows what he’s doing, Ryan straightens up and lets the soap fall from his left hand, reaches over the short distance and lays a hand on the top of Darryl’s cock.

Roy’s quiet. Darryl’s just breathing hard. And then Darryl’s hands fall, and Roy breathes in real quick, and then Ryan’s hands are somehow moving up and down Darryl’s cock and it’s getting even harder under his hands, and Ryan’s fairly sure that the temp agency was not expecting this kind of thing when they signed him up here.

“Fuck, man,” Roy breathes, and out of the corner of his glassy eyes Ryan can see his hands moving back to his own stiffening cock. Ryan’s knees are suddenly on the floor and one of his hands is down on Darryl’s balls, and Darryl breathes out a bit of a grunt before his balls tighten and then there’s something thicker than the running water on Ryan’s cheek, and the cock in his hand is getting limper.

“Fuck,” mutters Roy again, roughly stroking his own tip with his thumb. Ryan’s fingers move to pad at the stuff on his cheek, and Darryl just looks down on the kid kneeling right in front of his balls, water from the shower dripping off of the tips of his hair and the ends of his chin.

“Come here, Roy,” Darryl says, and Roy moves over, his hand still going up and down. Ryan looks up a bit late and then Roy’s cock is hitting his cheek where Darryl’s stuff is, and then the tip is at the corner of his mouth, and then Darryl’s hand is on the top of his head and somehow the head of Roy’s dick is right in between his lips.

“Jesus,” Roy manages to stammer, muscles flexing as he holds himself in place. Darryl’s hand moves and then Roy’s cock is deeper into Ryan’s mouth, hard and throbbing and thick and ohgod Ryan is so hard and Roy’s pubes are lightly touching his nose as he thrusts, and Darryl’s cock is in the upper right corner of his glassy vision as Roy’s cock goes back and forth over his tongue, and there is a cock in his mouth and it’s damn good.

“Darryl,” whispers Roy, “look at this.” Darryl’s hand is off of Ryan’s hair and back onto his cock, and then Ryan lets his hands grasp Roy’s hips as his tongue finally comes alive and swirls around the tip of the cock in his mouth, and then Roy gets loud again and moans and there’s more stuff in Ryan’s mouth, and he’s so buzzed and so jacked up that he can’t even taste it and he doesn’t even realize that he’s come without touching his cock, his own stuff on his chest and Roy’s dick getting softer between his lips.

Ryan swallows a little without even thinking about it and lets Roy pull his dick out of his lips. His knees are getting weaker and so is his resolve as Darryl and Roy stand over him, very tall and very manly with their hands awkwardly on their cocks because what else do you do when you’re a bunch of straight guys and one of you has just given another one fucking hot blowjob?

Ryan stands up and turns his head slightly to let little remaining bit of Roy fall out of his mouth and down the shower drain. Darryl on his cheek is long since gone and the pads of his fingers are getting wrinkly, but he doesn’t want to turn around and face them again.

Then he nearly jumps because Darryl’s hand is on his shoulder. “We don’t talk about this, okay?” He nods. “Just…be discreet, Howard.” And then the hand is gone, and Roy’s showerhead is turned off because he’s stepped out and pretty soon Darryl’s is off too, and it’s awful quiet in his head without the sound of it.

Darryl reaches over and turns his off too, turns and lets Ryan follow him back into the locker room. They’ve got real clothes in their lockers, jeans and T-shirts. Roy throws him an extra set of clothes and they dress in silence.

As they leave the locker room in silence, Ryan leading the way this time as Darryl switches off the lights. Then in the closet, as they turn sideways to squeeze between two black wire racks, Roy reaches out to grab Ryan’s arm and surges forward to crush his mouth against his, stubble almost bruising the chin Ryan shaved clean that morning and almost lashes him with his tongue, hands grasping at the collar of the jersey Ryan’s wearing – Iverson, he thinks – as the forward momentum carries them out from between the racks and then Ryan’s back is to the wall on the other side as Roy’s mouth basically assault his and  Darryl comes up behind them to tug down Ryan’s shorts.

And Ryan’s writhing, trying almost to get out because Roy’s got him pinned and keeps doing that thing with his tongue and Darryl’s calloused hands are on his cock, his rough thumb jerking against his tip and he’s sososohard again and his shorts and boxers are basically only halfway down his thighs. Then those rough warehouse fingers dip lower to his balls and squeeze and then it’s the fastest orgasm of his life as he gets it all over Roy’s shirt and Darryl’s hands. Darryl drops away and Roy takes over, dry humping through denim and sucking brutally on Ryan’s lip. Roy slides a hand up Ryan’s shirt and pinches hard on his nipple, sending a gasp through him as the denim on Roy’s crotch slides against his open cock just that way and if he hadn’t already come twice in the last ten minutes, he’d be firing all over those fading jeans.

In the end, Roy pulls back and gingerly pats his crotch as if to settle it down. Darryl and Roy step back as if to assess Ryan, lying on the wall with one hand clutching the edge of the doorframe and the other flat on the smooth surface, trying to find balance as his pants slip another inch down to his knees and his lips find cool air instead of the heat of Roy’s mouth. He’ll have bruises somewhere, he knows, and the thought of it makes his stomach churn again.

Roy breathes hard and steps toward the door, muttering something about Pam and a car ride, and then he’s gone and Ryan’s lips are feeling more and more raw. Darryl closes his gaping mouth, swallows hard and pulls Ryan’s pants up for him, fingers lightly swiping his dick before murmuring the word “discreet” and leaving too. Ryan waits a while before catching his bearings and walking back out to the bench beside the basketball court, breathes again when he sees that Darryl and Roy’s cars are gone and ignores Jim glancing at him as he leaves too. He pulls his phone out and calls Derek, reminds him that it’s a fifteen minute drive to Dunder Mifflin so he’d better get his ass in gear, hangs up and sits with his head in his hands.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next Monday, during his lunch break, Ryan straightens his tie and loosens his belt a little and goes down to the warehouse, telling Michael that he’s got a call from his mother about his fifth dead aunt. Roy and Darryl are eating with the rest of the warehouse guys, but they stop and move toward him when he comes down the stairs.

“Hey Howard!” Lonny calls. “How ya doin?”

“Pretty good, thanks,” Ryan says nervously, and Roy and Darryl just usher him into the closet of broken racks.

Ryan sits on a wooden table with three and a half legs and unbuckles Roy’s belt, feeling him grow hard under his fingertips. “Hey, listen,” he says, and Roy’s eyes meet his, already a little glazed over. “I’m not – “

“We know,” Darryl says, unbuttoning his own pants. “Neither are we.”

“It’s just a blowjob,” Ryan says more to himself as he pulls Roy’s fly open and reaches into his boxers for his dick. “It’s not even real sex,” he says as his hand settles on Roy’s balls and his tongue moves to lap at the base of the thickening cock. “I’m not gay,” he says around Roy when he finally just sticks it into his mouth. It comes out all warbled and Darryl chuckles as he pumps his own cock, arm flexing and Roy thrusts impatiently as Ryan reaches a hand up to help Darryl, the other hand settling in his lap to open his own fly.