“Alright Halpert,” Pam coos lovingly, gently nudging Jim. She slowly and sleepily untangles herself from his long arms. His legs surround her as she leans forward from her cuddled position on his chest. His arms are threaded around her waist.
“Hmmm?” he murmurs, waking from a light nap. They had been watching 27 Dresses, as per Michael’s request. Pam agreed that it was an adorable movie, but Jim fell asleep about forty minutes in. Pam realizes that it isn’t because he’s bored, but because he’s tired from their usual nightly activities.
“Bedtime for bonzo,” Pam says with a smile, brushing her fingers through his scruffy hair.
She stands from the couch, unwillingly breaking from his embrace. She yanks the remote control from between the couch cushions and clicks off the movie to save for another night.
She places the remote on the coffee table next to the couch and stretches out her limbs.
His eyes flutter open and land on her as she reaches her fingers toward the ceiling.
Her eyes meet his and she smiles adoringly. His lips break into a drowsy grin.
She kneels beside the couch and presses her lips on his forehead. Her fingers run through his hair and she can see goosebumps creeping along his arms.
“Hey,” he murmurs, his voice strangled by sleep.
“Hey,” she repeats, her eyelids heavy.
“I’m sorry I fell asleep,” he apologizes, stretching his arms out behind him and his legs to the end of the couch. She watches, her mind dancing around the idea that this long, lean man is hers, hers, hers. “I’ve just been so tired.”
“All for good reason, of course.” She smiles cunningly.
He catches her innuendo.
“Anything relating to what we do after work is a good enough reason for me.”
She reaches for his hand and stands up, hoping he will follow. He stands, slowly at first, catches his balance, and then faces her, his eyes suddenly alive. He wraps his arms around her, surrounding her completely, and presses his lips into her curls. She folds her arms against his chest as his warmth serenades her skin and causes her to release a sighhhh.
He lowers his head to meet hers and touches her nose with his.
“Let’s get you undressed.”
She squeals.
They sleepily meander toward their bedroom, their fingers knotted.
She collapses backward on their bed, Jim hovering above her.
“I don’t think I have the energy to put on my pajamas,” he laughs as her fingers stroking his back.
“No need to worry about that,” she whispers into his ear before slipping out from under him and waltzing to their dresser. He rolls onto his back and watches her curiously.
“What do you have up your sleeve, Beesly?”
“Sleeve? What sleeve?” she says coyly as she pulls off her indigo t-shirt.
He sits up.
She steps toward him and stands between his legs. Tugging gently at his red t-shirt, she pulls it over his head. Suddenly, his lips are on hers.
“I thought you said you had no energy left,” Pam says.
“I don’t. Seeing you gives me a nice boost, however.”
She smiles, and reaches for his hand, pulling him toward the dresser.
“What should I wear?”
She has several pajama couplets, like her comfy purple cami with matching pansy shorts, but often times she finds herself more comfortable in undies and a t-shirt of his.
“Nothing?” he makes his statement a question as he pulls off his shorts. She runs her fingers along his chest.
“Jim, it’s the winter. I’m wearing something,” she says, though she would much rather go without the fabrics and enjoy their own warmth.
“Whatever is most comfortable, then,” he says, finding a shirt and shorts for himself.
“Not so fast. I’m dressing you, remember?”
He drops the worn-out red Penn State t-shirt he found and puts his hands up in surrender.
“Let’s put that to good use,” she says, pointing at the oversized shirt.
He is confused at first, but follows her lead. Gently, he places the shirt over her head and releases it. It gracefully coats her body in red.
“Take those off,” she orders, pointing at his boxers.
“Getting risqué, are we?”
She reaches in the drawer and hands him a new pair. “I like these better.”
“But they’re not as cozy,” he whines with a feigned frown.
“Cozy schmozy, Halpert. They’re plain old ugly.”
“I happen to like yellow plaid with sky-blue highlights.”
“They look ridiculous,” she smiles fondly, brushing her fingers along the hem of a different pair. “Besides, I think these green ones look better on you.”
“I will take that into account next time,” he jokes, pulling on the boxers.
“You better, especially because I’m the one who has to look at them,” she laughs, slipping yet another pair of his boxers.
“What is it with you and boxers tonight, Beesly?” he says, guiding her to their bed. His fingers linger on hers once they fold into each other under the sheets.
“They’re cozy, what can I say.”
Author's Chapter Notes:
I plan to keep this series PG, with with mostly little conversations and fluffy stuff. This was more action than usual (not in a bad, way, though!).
Chapter End Notes:
Okay, so this has no angst at all while Truth or Dare did, but that's okay I guess! Pure fluff is nice.
