Jim lay stretched out on his bed, his feet dangling over the end of the bed. He had been planning to buy a new bed, a larger one, one that did not look like it belonged in a dorm room. He was a man now and a man did not sleep in a single bed. Every Friday he would tell himself that he would visit the mattress store that weekend, but he just never got around to it. He knew why he never made it to the store and it was not any of the excuses he would rattle off in his head. His parents had bought him this bed when he had gone to college, starting out on the path of his future. If he gave up this bed, then he would have to admit that this was his future. His job at Dunder Mifflin was no longer just a stepping-stone to better things it was his career.
He sighed deeply, rubbing his hand over his chest, the cotton of his T-shirt soft beneath his fingers and stared at the dark ceiling. Today at work Michael had subjected them to a review of their sexual harassment policy all because Michael was deluded enough to believe that without his e-mail forwards, the office would be lost. The thought that days like today spread out before him in the future was just too unbearable and he pushed it away.
Instead, he thought about Pam's mother visiting them today. He could not help the excitement that had coursed through him when Pam had told him of the visit. Part of it was Pam's own excitement rubbing off on him, he knew that she was close with her mother and he could not help but mirror her emotions. The other part he did not acknowledge under the fluorescent lights of the office but now, in the darkness of his room, he could admit the truth. He had hoped that if Pam's mother met him, if she was able to see the kind of man he was and how much he cared about Pam, maybe she would say something to her daughter. Maybe her mother saw the way Roy treated Pam like shit and wanted someone better for her daughter. Maybe she would meet Jim and see the love he had for Pam that shone in his eyes and she would tell Pam that she had the perfect man right in front of her. Even just a casual mention of what a great guy he was would be something.
He had known it was ridiculous to have hopes like that, if he had learned anything from the three years he had spent watching Pam from afar, it was to never hope for anything, that way you are never disappointed. It was an easy thing to say, the mantra he repeated over and over in his head day in and day out at work and again at night as he thought back over the interactions that he and Pam had shared over the day. Easy to say, hard to do, he thought as he remembered the disappointment that had filled him when Roy had come into the office, ending Jim's chance to meet her. Not only that, Roy had actually been fucking charming and Jim could see that Pam's mother genuinely liked the asshole. She had even hugged him!
Jim rolled over and punched his pillow in frustration. Was he the only one in the
entire world who saw that Roy was completely, entirely wrong for Pam? Why could no one see that she was meant to be with him, not with Roy? He stopped himself from asking any more rhetorical questions, knowing that it only led down a depressing path that would leave him with little sleep and a pounding headache. Instead he focused on the one bright spot in his day, when he had overheard Pam's mother asking Pam who he was. It was not much, but Pam's embarrassed "Mom!" had warmed his heart and reminded him of the way his sister used to say the same thing to their own mother when she would embarrass her in front of a boy. It meant that Pam had told her mother about him and even if she had only spoke about him as a friend, it was enough to make him smile in the darkness. That and the memory of Michael walking into the office with that blow up doll in his hands.
He closed his eyes and pulled his blankets over his shoulders, determined to get some sleep, knowing that morning would come all too quickly. Just as he felt himself enter that space between wakefulness and true sleep, a shrill noise caught his attention. He fought through the haze that surrounded his brain and focused on the sound. His cell phone. He grabbed it from the nightstand, glancing at the blue digital clock next to it. 11:45. Not that late to be getting a call. Shit, people with actual lives were just starting their nights, unlike himself. He glanced down at the caller ID and felt his breath catch and his mind come completely awake.
Pam's Cell
He could not help the flip flops his stomach did when he saw her name. Sure, she had called him plenty of times outside of work, whether it was to ask him to remind her of the new word they had made up that day at work or to tell him something funny that had happened to her on the weekend that she could not wait until Monday to tell him. But she had never called him at nearly midnight.
"Hey," he said after he pressed talk.
"Jim," her voice was soft and hesitant, "I didn't wake you, did I?"
He smiled. "No, you didn't."
"Oh good," she sighed and he could here excitement fill her voice, "I just remembered something from today and I just had to call you. I can't believe neither of us said anything about it."
She said all of this really fast and he could imagine the smile that she wore. That was one of the things he loved about Pam. When Pam smiled, her entire face lit up, her eyes sparkled and she radiated happiness from head to toe. It was infectious and even over the phone, Jim could not stop the grin that spread over his face.
"And what is that?" he asked her, laying back down on his bed, one hand holding the phone to his ear, the other resting on his stomach.
"Oh my God! Phyllis!" she told him, "I can't believe we forgot what she said."
"Which was what exactly?" he asked. There had been quite a few unbelievable things that he been said today by many of their coworkers.
"When Toby was talking about disclosing office relationships..."
Pam trailed off, allowing Jim's memory to trigger and he nearly shot up out of his bed as he remembered what their colleague had said.
"Oh. My. God."
"I know!" she cried and dissolved into giggles. He chuckled himself, picturing Pam cradling her forehead in her hand as laughter shook her petite frame.
"Oh, Pam, what has happened to us? We are slipping if we forgot about that," he told her, shaking his head at their forgetfulness. He supposed that the arrival of Pam's mother had pushed it to the back of both of their minds. "A one night stand. Phyllis. Wow."
"Who do you think it could be?" Pam whispered to him, just like she did when they were at her desk and gossiping about their coworkers.
"Pam, the possibilities are endless," he said, "Let's see, there's Kevin."
"I don't think so."
"Why not? What's wrong with Kevin?"
"The man giggles at the number sixty nine."
"Point taken. But what if Phyllis was drunk?" Jim countered and Pam was silent as she seemed to contemplate this.
"Okay, there is a possibility if alcohol is involved," she conceded, "But what about Oscar?"
"No way," Jim shot her down.
"Why not? What's wrong with Oscar?" she threw his own words back at him and they laughed.
"I've just never gotten the vibe from Oscar that Phyllis is his type. In fact, I don't think any of the women at work are his type."
"Ohhhhh," Pam stretched out the word as she got Jim's meaning.
"Right, 'oh.'"
"What about Ryan?" Pam suggested.
"I can't really see him hitting on Phyllis."
"Who said it had to be the guy who hit on her?" Pam replied, her voice mockingly stern, "You think girls can't hit on guys?"
"No, I don't think they can't, I just think that they don't," he replied playfully.
"Oh come on Halpert, are you trying to tell me that a girl has never come on to you?"
"Yes, Beesly, that's what I'm trying to tell you."
"I don't believe you," she scoffed and he chuckled, "I've seen what you look like. When you go out, the girls must just line up to take their turns flirting with you."
I've seen what you look like. Did that mean that she found him attractive? She obviously thought he was attractive enough to have girls lining up to be with him but did that mean she, herself, was attracted to him? He wanted to ask her, to make it in a teasing voice but he could not muster the courage. Instead he went down what he thought would be a safer route.
"Wait a minute, Beesly, flirting isn't the same thing as hitting on someone."
"Oh really?" she replied, "Care to explain to me the difference?"
"Flirting is smiling and teasing and brushing up against each other 'accidentally.'" Though he was alone in his room, he could not help but clutching the phone in the crook of his neck and making air quotes with his fingers. "When you hit on someone, it's different."
"How so, 'Mr. Expert'?" she replied teasingly and he could not help but believe that she had mimicked his gesture.
"When you flirt with someone, it's because you actually like them, when you hit on someone, you want to sleep with them. It's like how Michael is always hitting on you. It's because he just really wants to sleep with you."
There was a dead silence over the phone and for a moment, he thought the call had been disconnected but he checked the screen on his phone and it was indeed still connected. Then the most stern and even voice sounded.
"That. Was. Not. Funny."
He could not help but howl with laughter and tears began to flow from his eyes as she continued to berate him, telling him that if he did not take it back, she would never, ever in a million years speak to him again. He wiped his eyes as he calmed his laughter, struggling to regain control once again.
"I'm sorry, I take it back."
"You better," she said in a huff.
"Well, maybe if you didn't wear that sexy pink cardigan, Michael wouldn't get so excited."
His heart sped up the moment the words left his lips. It was the first time he had ever referred to Pam as 'sexy', at least outside of his own thoughts. In his dark room, over the phone, without cameras and microphones, he felt a little braver than normal. And he could always just brush it off as a joke.
"'Sexy', huh? Not only do I have to put up with sexual harassment at work, I have to take it after hours on the phone," she teased.
"What can I say? Those sexual harassment seminars always bring out the horniness in people."
"'Horniness?'" she scoffed.
"I'm just saying."
"So, you have this problem with 'horniness' a lot, Halpert?" Her voice was lower and just a bit husky and he suddenly became very conscious of the fact that he was on the phone with Pam while he was laying in his bed, clad only in a thin tee and his boxers.
He tried to laugh but it came out in a stammer. His heart was pumping rapidly, his breathing becoming shallow and, though he felt like a preteen boy, he began to stir beneath his boxers. He knew he had to change the topic and fast before things got out of hand, or rather, he had to get himself in hand.
"Wait a minute, what happened to talking about Phyllis' mysterious Dunder Mifflinite lover?" he spoke, his voice a little gruffer than he intended.
"Sure, change the topic," she said, "Wuss."
"Hey, you're the one who called me up at midnight to gossip about Phyllis. I wouldn't want this nagging mystery to keep you from your plans for the night."
He heard her sigh and he could sense the change in her even through he phone.
"Trust me, you aren't keeping me from anything," she said angrily, the harshness of her tone telling him that Roy had definitely done something wrong.
"You okay?" he asked politely, trying to conceal his happiness that Roy had fucked up once again. Maybe this will be the last time, he could not help but wish.
"It's nothing, just Roy," she replied, her voice bitter, "He went out with Darryl tonight. He won't show up until after three in the morning."
He felt his hands clench into fists as he thought of Roy leaving Pam all alone in their apartment while he spent the night with his friends. This was the worst part of the frustration that he felt about Pam and Roy's relationship. He could handle it if Pam was in love with someone who treated her right, it would hurt, but he could take comfort in the fact that she was truly happy. But he knew she was anything but happy and the fact that that dumb fuck Roy did not even realise it was almost more than he could handle.
As much as he wanted to tell Pam this, he knew he never would. Even if the time ever came that he was ready to tell Pam his true feelings, he would never tell her how he really felt about that bastard. Tearing Roy apart would never make her love him.
"Well, then that just means more time for the Beesly and Halpert Detective Agency to solve the 'Who did Phyllis get down and nasty with?' mystery," he joked and she laughed, "Could the mystery man be Creed?"
"You know absolutely nothing about women!"
"Educate me then, Beesly," he crossed his arms over his chest, tucking the phone into the crook of his neck, "If you weren't engaged, who would you sleep with in our office?"
He did not recognise the implications of what he had said until after it was already out there. He had not clearly thought out what he was asking, that he was including himself as an option in this informal game of "Who Would You Do?". He wanted to switch on the bedside lamp, to let the harsh light chase away the dark that was making him so brave. This was not the type of conversation he had with Pam, they had never really discussed sex or anything sex related, aside from the occasional offensive joke Michael had to share with the office. He kept the light off though, afraid that if he turned it on he would lose the courage to wait for her answer that he so wanted to hear.
"Umm...that's a tough one," she spoke after a moment, "Okay, first, I definitely, most positively would not sleep with Creed, Michael or Dwight." He laughed at the disgust that registered in her voice.
"Stanley's married and Kevin has a fiancee. We may be talking about a hypothetical world but I still am not 'other woman' material. Devin is too old and Ryan's too young. Toby has a bit too much baggage for my taste, even for a one night stand. I would have said Oscar, but since you ruined that for me, I guess that leaves..."
She trailed off into silence. He had to tried a few times to make mouth work to voice the conclusion that Pam had come to but had not said.
"So, that just leaves-"
"Toby!" she cried before he could finish his sentence and he gave the phone a strange look, thinking that perhaps something was wrong with the speaker.
"Huh?"
"It's got to be Toby. He and Phyllis must have got together right after his divorce. He was depressed and she wanted to comfort him, throw in a few drinks and BAM! You get a one night stand!"
She spoke quickly, the words coming out in a nervous jumble and he understood what she wanted. She did not want to acknowledge what she had almost said, what he wanted so badly for her to say. He sighed deeply, accepting that he would do what she wanted because he could never refuse her anything.
"You must be right. He is the only one left," he said, not quite concealing the bitterness in his voice.
"Think about it," Pam continued, seemingly oblivious to his sour tone, "They both end up staying late at work, neither of them have anyone to go home to, feeling sad and lonely. She sees him sitting at his desk, pretending to do work but really just sitting there thinking about the fact that he is all alone. She can't help but feel a kinship with him because she sees a part of herself in his unhappy face."
He smiled sadly at the picture that Pam painted with her words. He could not help but see that parallels between the fake Phyllis and Toby and the real Pam and Jim. He closed his eyes and pictured himself at his own desk, Pam seated at reception, most of the lights turned off for the night.
"She goes to him and they talk, maybe even raiding Meredith's desk for some vodka. They toast to their mutual misery and get plastered and then do it on Michael's desk."
He chuckled at her ending to the story, his sadness easing a bit as they shared a laugh. As much as every fibre of his being ached to be more with Pam, he never wanted to lose her friendship, no matter what happened. He could not imagine never hearing her laughter again. It would be like never hearing music or a baby’s laughter or the pounding of the surf ever again. What would be the point of carrying on if your life was devoid of beautiful sounds?
"That's a good story, Beesly. You should make it into one of those trashy romance novels," he suggested sarcastically.
"Oh and what do you know about trashy romance novels?"
"I know that women pretend that they aren't porn," he replied pointedly and chuckled when she snorted in indignation.
"I'll have you know that women do not read porn, we read erotica," she said matter of fact.
"And what's the difference?"
"The words," she replied, "Porn has dirty words, erotica uses romantic words."
"What, like 'pulsating shaft' and 'quivering member'?"
"You know, for a supposedly heterosexual man, you know quite a lot about these books," she teased, "Are you sure that you're into women?"
"I am most definitely into women," he replied gruffly. He knew she was teasing but he still wanted to make sure she knew exactly where he stood when it came to his sexuality. Not that there was anything wrong with the other option but he did not want any doubt in her mind.
"All right, then which woman at work would you sleep with, you big hetero man, you?"
"No way I'm answering that."
"Why not?" He could hear her pout through the phone and smiled.
"Because," he drawled, "I asked the same question and you never answered, ergo, I don't have to answer."
"Even to prove your heterosexuality to me?" she teased. A response flashed quickly through his mind and had they been face to face, he never would have voiced it, but here and now, he felt as if he was safe from any reprimand or rejection. For once, he said ‘Fuck it!” and said what he really wanted, not what he thought he should say.
"There's plenty of other ways for me to prove my heterosexuality to you."
The silence that came at the end of his words began to stretch out, seconds ticking by and he could feel panic clawing at his throat. He gripped the phone tighter and stammered, trying to apologise.
"Pam, I'm-uh-I'm so sorry, I-I-"
"No, Jim," her soft whisper was enough to silence him, "I'm sorry. For...just for all of...I don't...I just don't know..."
The softness of her voice struck a cord in him and he realised that this was the closest Pam had ever come to acknowledging the thing that had been between them since the first day they had met. He lay there, not knowing quite what to say, staring at the dark ceiling above him, her breathing soft in his ear. She may want him to say something, but for once he was not going to give in to her. If she wanted to keep talking, she would have to speak first and if she wanted to stop, she would have to be the one to end the call.
"Okay," she said finally, her voice back to it's happy tone, "Since I didn't answer your question, how about I tell you something about me for payback?"
He resigned himself to the fact that Pam was not ready to actively discuss what was happening between them and decided to play along. Anything to keep talking to her.
"All right, but I get to decide after you tell me if it is enough for payback."
"Fair enough," she agreed.
"Not worried I won't keep extracting information from you so I can hold it against you at a later date?" he teased and she laughed lightly.
"I think you will find this little story is worth its weight in gold."
"Well, then you'll have to let me get comfy," he said and rearranged his pillows, "Okay, let the bedtime story commence."
"Well, it's about this dream I had a while ago," she began.
"A dream, Beesly?" he interrupted sceptically.
"Yes, I’m at work, just sitting at reception and no one is there, the place is completely deserted. I start to get scared, being there all alone, wondering where everyone went when someone walks in the door. He's tall and handsome and when I see him, I know that everything is okay and that I'll be safe."
He furrowed his brow in confusion at her story, wondering where she was heading with this. As pathetic as he felt having to admit it, he was jealous of her mystery dream man and he'd prefer not to hear much about him. It was enough that he was losing to an ass in real life, he did not need to lose his chance in her dreams.
"He comes over takes me into his arms and stares at me with these deep blue eyes and he presses his soft lips against mine. I have to stand on my tippy toes when we kiss, he’s so tall and his hands are in my hair and mine are around his neck. We kiss passionately, his tongue slipping pass my lips to touch my own. His hands slide from my hair, over my shoulders and down my arms and he breaks the kiss to pull me away from my desk. He pushes all the papers off of his desk and Dwight's and lifts me up as if I weigh nothing and sets me down on the top of his desk."
The sick feeling that had been filling his stomach at the beginning of her story changed into a warm tingle as he registered what she had said. The mystery man was not a mystery anymore but someone they both knew quite well. He felt himself begin to tremble slightly as he came to a complete understanding of what Pam was saying.
"He kisses me again, harder and deeper this time, his tongue searching my mouth, causing me to moan deep in my throat." Her voice was husky now, still soft but deeper than it usually sounded. He shifted beneath his blankets, her voice causing his cock to harden completely. Was she trying to torture him? His left hand held the phone to his ear and his right hand lay on his stomach, rubbing in small circles. He itched to reach down lower, to take his cock in his hand and stroke himself while he listened to the woman he wanted more than anything but he could not shake a sense of guilt. If she ever found out he had jerked himself off while they were on the phone, she would never speak to him again.
"I grab his soft hair in my fists, urging him closer and his hips move between my legs, my thighs wrapping around him. His mouth moves to my throat, kissing and suckling at the soft skin. I pull his shirt from his pants, my hands sliding underneath to run over his bare back while his hands softly cup my breasts."
Why was she telling him these things? Why was she flaunting in his face the one thing he could never have? He had never thought Pam could be intentionally cruel but there was no way he could believe that she was naive enough to not know what this was fucking torture for him. She had to know that everything she was saying was turning him on beyond words.
"Pam, why...why are you doing this?" he whispered plaintively, struggling to understand, "I can't just listen to you say these things, not without wanting to..."
"I know, it's okay," she whispered, her voice catching, "Please, let me do this...for you, Jim."
He struggled to muffled a groan that came from the way she had said his name, what she was asking of him. If she thought that this would make everything better, she was wrong. He wanted so much more than just this sexual connection, he wanted everything that Pam was and would ever be. That did not mean he would refuse her now. He did not have enough strength to say no to her now, not when she wanted to do this, not when he wanted to do this more than anything in his fucking life.
"Okay," he told her simply. His hand moved from his stomach to rest over the bulge in his boxers, his fingers softly stroking the skin beneath the cotton. If this was all that would ever happen between them, then he was determined to make it last as long as possible. And if he was going to be completely honest with himself, it would not be long. Not when it was with her.
"His fingers tweak my nipples through my bra as I pull his belt from his pants, my fingers working his fly down." He groaned softly as he pictured Pam's small hands on the opening of his pants, his own hands holding her pert breasts, her hard nipples jutting out proudly.
"I reach inside his boxers and grasp my hand around him, rubbing my thumb over his tip."
His own hand slipped beneath his boxers and mimicked the movements of her dream hand, stroking the swollen head. His hips jumped of their own accord, shoving his cock deeper into his fist. Oh no, it would not be fucking long at all. He felt as if he was in a dream himself, listening to her arousing voice but he knew if he actually was dreaming all of this would not be taking place over the phone. She would be here with him now, her rosy skin pliant beneath his fingers, her eyes dark with arousal, her sweet smelling hair tickling his chin as he nuzzled her neck. He could not stop the trembles that wracked his body as he slowly stroked himself as she continued.
"I slide my hand down slowly, stroking him and he pulls my breast from my bra, his lips latching on to a nipple."
He could see himself doing in, taking the harden tip in his mouth, suckling and nibbling, her head thrown back in ecstasy. He wanted to tell her everything he would do to her, all the pleasure he could give her, that he wanted to give her but his fuzzy mind could not form coherent words. All he could muster was a strangled grunt, his hips lifting off the bed as his hand sped up.
"All I want is to feel him inside of me and I pull him closer, my skirt sliding up over my hips. He reaches a hand between my legs and strokes the satin of my panties with his long fingers," she whispers to him, "I’m wet."
He moaned loudly, his hand tightening around his cock. Two simple words sent him into tailspin and a thousand erotic images of Pam filled his mind and he wondered what she was doing right now, alone in her bed as he was. Her breath was coming quick but he could not tell if it was from nervousness or arousal. He hoped it was a little bit of both. Was it possible she was laying in the dark as well, taking courage from its cloaking safety, her hands slowly straying across her own body? Was she stroking her fingers over her dusky nipples, a hand sliding down over her smooth stomach, slipping under the elastic band of her panties?
“Shit,” he hissed through clenched teeth at the pictures that filled his mind. He thought he heard her faintly whimper but she continued talking before he could listen more closely.
"He pushes the strip of cloth to the side and touches me tenderly but I can't stand his patience. I guide him, wrapping my thighs tight around his hips and he's inside me, filling me up completely."
He could feel himself getting closer, his hips bucking in time to the stroking of his hand, the fantasy that Pam drew for him proving to be too much. He had countless fantasies about Pam, the things that he would do to her and the things that he wanted her to do to him. He could imagine what she would feel like beneath him, when he was inside her, how he would make her cry out in pleasure. Instead it was Pam doing it to him, driving him towards the edge of release and he wanted to thank her, but he did not want her to stop talking. He was so close, so very close.
"He moves slowly at first, worried that he might hurt me but I urge him on, thrusting my hips to meet his. His fingers slide down between us and he plays with me, wanting me to come before he does."
He could feel his balls tighten at her erotic words and he knew it would not be long. His breath was coming out in gasps, sweat drops formed on his brow and his hand worked faster.
"He kisses me deeply, his tongue matching his thrusts and I can only hold on as I feel myself come apart beneath him, shuddering and shaking around him as he continues to stroke inside of me. Again and again, I've never felt anything as good as being in his arms at that moment. I bite his shoulder to keep from screaming and he is whispering all sorts of wonderful things into my ear."
His hand tightened around his cock and he moaned loudly as it all became too much for him. His mind began to spin, pleasure filling him from head to toe as he pulsed again and again. He could never be sure of what he heard, his own breath was coming out of him in gasps, soft grunts issuing from his lips but as he spilled his seed onto his stomach, he swore he heard an answering moan of pleasure come from the other end of the phone.
"Pam, I-Oh, God...Pam!" he groaned between clenched teeth, his eyes closed tight in pleasure. He stroked himself a few more times, trying to stretch out the pleasure, trying to ignore the silence that was now seemed to echo on the phone.
As the sexual haze he was in began to disappate, a feeling of guilt swept over him. What had they done? This was his best friend, his best friend who was fucking engaged and he had just had phone sex with her. The pleasant daze was gone and he felt like the biggest ass in the world.
"Pam, I..." he began, trying to end the silence that had descended on them.
"I have to go," she said quickly, her voice full of apprehension and fear, "Roy's home."
A click sounded over the phone and he knew she was gone. He looked at the cell phone in his hand and then down at himself, where the evidence of what had just happened still covered him. He slammed his fist into the mattress in frustration, tossing the phone across the room. It had not been his idea, he had not started any of this but he felt like it was all his fucking fault.
He cleaned himself up and climbed back beneath the blankets, curling up in the fetal position. He felt ashamed and used and completely pathetic. He told himself that what had happened tonight was the most that he could ever hope to have from Pam, that nothing more would ever come from it.
He did nothing to stop the tears that began to spill from his eyes as he tried to escape into sleep and his dreams, the only place where he got everything that he wanted and he could be happy.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Okay, I do not know where this came from. This started out as a humourous piece about Phyllis’ one night stand comment in “Sexual Harassment” and then it somehow became about Jim angst and has now transformed into angsty smut. WARNING: There are dirty words ahead because it’s from Jim’s POV and well, Jim’s a guy. Also, Pam is a bit OOC, at least from what we see on the show. I happen to think that both her and Jim are quite different away from the cameras. Oh and if masterbation makes you uncomfortable, may I suggest you keep walking, there’s nothing to see here. Other than that, please read and tell me what you think.
All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
im_a_guestage is the author of 2 other stories.
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