“You got your toothbrush?” He peers through the darkness, flicking his brights on for a better view.
“Yes.” Her fingers absentmindedly twirl a lock of her hair.
“Toothpaste?” He pops his left turn signal on, checks his mirrors, grips the wheel.
“Why would I bring my toothbrush and not my toothpaste?” Her lips quirk and she glances over at him.
“Good point. Hairbrush?” He reaches over the turn the radio on, hoping the noise will wake him up. A five a.m. flight isn’t exactly the best start to their honeymoon.
“Jim, you do realize there’s no point in even asking me this stuff, right? If I left something at home, we can’t do anything about it now that we’re on the way to the airport.” She sighs, kicks her flip-flops off, rubs her eyes.
“You at least remembered your prenatal vitamins, right, Pam?” He stomps on the brake as the car in front of him comes to an abrupt stop, curses softly under his breath, then quickly looks over at Pam’s stomach. He’s been feeling guilty lately whenever he does anything remotely un-fatherly; he can’t shake the feeling that the baby is listening.
“Yes, I remembered my prenatal – oh, my God, Jim, I forgot my body soap! My special soft pregnant lady body soap! Ughhh.” She groans, lets her face fall into her hands.
“It’s okay, Pam. I’ll still have sex with you if you aren’t silky smooth. Only because it’s our honeymoon, though. Otherwise this kind of thing would be unacceptable.” His nose wrinkles from the strain of trying to hold his happiness inside of him.
“Oh, shut up. Is that your way of saying I told you so?” She reaches into her purse and digs around for some Tylenol.
“Yes.” His hand slides off the steering wheel, settles on her stomach, rubs lightly. Her hair is frizzy and golden in the light from the streetlamps. She eyes the morning stubble on his face, strokes it with her fingertips. Two heartbeats thrum inside of her.
*
Security ends up taking longer than usual, so five minutes before their flight boards, Jim is standing in line in one of those crappy little airport shops outside of their terminal, holding some mysterious new brand of soap and tapping his foot impatiently.
It doesn’t matter what you buy; just get me something that looks like it smells good, Pam had said, peering up at him from her place amongst their copious amounts of carry-on luggage (Jim had over-packed; he’s like a mother hen these days – what if you get hungry? What if you get sick? What if you go into labor? What if, for some inexplicable reason, we need this breast pump even though you’re only five months pregnant?). Her swollen feet lay propped up on the snack bag packed by Jim earlier that morning; her elbow was resting on the medicine satchel.
By the time he’s paid and out the door, the intercom is crackling to inform him that Flight 845 is boarding at gate 4F. Shit. He is not going to miss his honeymoon, thank you very much. He speeds up, rounding the corner to their gate in a near-panic, then stop short with a relieved groan at the sight of Pam still sitting there amongst their things.
“Jeez, Jim, took you long enough,” she laughs, absentmindedly rubbing her belly as she does so often these days. She pushes herself up, grunting as her legs struggle to support her extra fifteen pounds of pregnancy weight. In a flash, Jim’s behind her, one arm reaching around to cradle her waist, the other wrapping itself protectively around her stomach.
“Well, thanks, you macho man, you,” Pam says, blowing her hair out of her face and sticking her tongue out at Jim. “Nice to know how confident you are in my ability to stand on my own.”
“Hey, you’re pregnant, I’m allowed to worry.” He smiles softly, gives her back one last pat, moves away to grab her bags.
“It’s okay; I understand. I’m like that girl from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory who turns into a giant blueberry. Pretty soon you’re going to be able to just roll me from place to place,” she snorts.
“That may be true,” he says, “but you’re my blueberry. Now get your butt in gear before I have to roll you on the plane.”
*
As soon as they lug their suitcases into the room and kick their shoes off, Pam murmurs something about “washing that airplane smell” off of her and practically flies into the bathroom; seconds later, he hears the fan’s whirring, the reassuring flow of water against the porcelain bathtub, the soft noises of Pam’s clothes hitting the floor. As much as he wants to climb in with her, he’s exhausted from the flight and decides that forcing himself to move from the spot where he collapsed on the bed would be cruel and unusual punishment; he pulls out a book and starts reading instead.
It’s almost a half an hour later when Jim catches a whiff of it; it’s light, airy, a lot like peaches and a little like springtime. At first he thinks it’s coming from outside the window, some kind of tropical fruit, maybe, but after a cursory examination reveals only an elderly couple barbecuing hot dogs on their deck below him, he realizes it’s wafting in from under the bathroom door: it's the soap he bought Pam at the airport.
Not a moment after his realization, he hears the shower stop. In the sudden silence he can just imagine Pam stepping gingerly out of the shower, tossing her damp hair over her shoulder, running a towel over her dripping wet body…
The door to the bathroom creaks open. Pam steps out, wrapped securely in a towel, and that delicious scent follows her into the room, even stronger now. She looks up at him and waves. He waves back, chuckling.
“Hi,” she says.
“Hi,” he responds. He can practically taste the peach on her warm skin if he stares hard enough. “How was your shower?”
“Ugh, perfect. I so needed it after the flight and the drive and the getting up early, yuck,” she says, bending over her duffel in the corner and digging through it for a pair of underwear. In two seconds he jumps off the bed, strides over to her, and wraps his arms around her from behind, placing a kiss to the back of her neck. Immediately she tilts her head back to give him better access; he loves this spot, just below her earlobe, and it smells so good now, all fruity and fresh and tangy.
Jim cups her chin, pulls her towards him, kisses her lightly. Pam grins into his mouth. One of his hands slides down to grip the terrycloth-covered curve her hip to pull her closer to him. Contentment settles in the back of her throat and warms her chest; she hums softly.
“Feeling good, are we?” Jim asks, breaking the kiss to nuzzle his way down her neck to her collarbone. She tilts her head back to give him better access, lets her damp hair cascade out of its messy bun and down her back, sighs as his teeth latch onto her skin.
“Mm, yes. Yes,” she murmurs, languishing in the feeling of his lips on her neck, the calloused warmth of his hand on her waist, the sight of his half-hard cock straining against his jeans. Pam reaches up, gently strokes the curls behind his ear for a moment, then lets her hand trail down his neck, skim over the flat panes of his chest, dip lightly into his navel, and settle on the seam of his jeans. She cups him softly, gently, then presses her palm more firmly against him, curling her fingers around his cock through the denim.
“Pam,” Jim hisses, his face contorted in pleasure as he bucks against her tiny hand. She grins in response and massages him lightly with two of her fingers.
“Jesus!” he exclaims, reaching down to grab her wrist and yank it away. “If you want this to go anywhere, you had better stop that right now.” She flutters her eyelashes innocently.
“Stop what, Jim?” she asks, lips swollen, skin above her collarbone colored in dark red bursts from his teeth, and he looks at her in wonder. He still remembers when they first started having sex, remembers like it was yesterday – the trepidation in her eyes, the trembling of her hands, the shy glances and downcast faces. It both amazes and arouses him to see how confident in her sexuality she’s become now, how she’ll bend over and suck him off without any prompting at all, how she’ll bite his neck so hard he’ll have bruises for two weeks, how she sashays her hips and carries herself and winks at him at work when no one’s looking (and sometimes when someone is). She’s a sexual goddess to him; she always has been, but now she knows it, too, and it’s miraculous to see the energy such knowledge instills in her. And as he watches her now, watches her lick her lips with that devilish look in her eye as he leans back to tug his shirt off, he feels a jolt of pleasure rush straight to his cock. He looks at her – her cheeks flushed, her breath coming in pants, a naughty little grin stretching across her naughty little lips – and controlling himself is no longer an option.
He reaches out and tugs at the knot on her towel, loosening it. She looks up at him and meets his gaze head-on for a moment, widening her eyes to let him know she accepts his unspoken challenge. Then she giggles, shimmies the towel down her hips, and gingerly steps out of the puddle of terrycloth on the floor, letting her hands fall softly to her breasts. She cocks an eyebrow at him and lets one hand trail lower, lower, lower to tangle itself in the curls between her legs and the grin on her face is absolutely wicked and oh, fuck, Jim Halpert doesn’t think he knew the meaning of a come-hither look until just this moment.
He growls and takes both of her hands firmly in his, pinning them to her sides and spinning her around so she’s facing the bed. He pushes her down into the sheets; her head falls against the headboard and she gasps lightly. He hasn’t been this rough with her since they discovered she was pregnant. If she’s being honest with herself, she’s missed this, missed Jim just throwing her down and ravishing her for all she was worth, not caring about her swollen ankles or her overly tender breasts, just biting and suckling and pinching and caressing and fucking her into oblivion. She moans aloud at the thought.
“Getting excited, Beesley?” Jim asks, smirking down at her, almost predator-like from his spot hovering above her. She wiggles her hips a bit, pushing them lightly into his burgeoning erection; he hisses in a breath through his nose.
“I’d say…excited is a good word for it,” Pam says. “There are other words I could use, too. Like horny. And wet. So wet, Jim.” She strokes his calf with her foot.
“Well, I might be able to help you with that,” he murmurs, his voice dangerously low, his eyes dark. Just seeing him like this, seeing how obvious it is that he wants to fuck her, knowing that he wants nothing more than to be buried balls-deep inside of her right now – well, fuck, it’s almost enough to make her come right there, and as his eyes leave her face and travel oh-so-slowly down her body she can’t help but moan at the anticipation, at the sensuality, at the sheer heat pooling in her lower belly.
“C’mon, then,” she growls, reaching up and grabbing onto his shoulders. He quirks an eyebrow at her and she smacks him lightly. “Help me out, Halpert.”
In the next instant, Jim’s all over her, his body pushing her against the headboard, his legs tangling with her own, his hands tracing the curves of her hips, his mouth latching onto one of her nipples.
“Uhnn,” Pam gasps, writhing under him as he lightly bites down, just enough for it to be the tiniest bit painful, then soothes the ache with the warm wetness of his tongue. “God, Jim –” She bucks against him as he switches to the other breast, bringing one of his hands up to pinch at the taut, beaded nipple of the first. He suckles, nibbling lightly with his teeth and then releasing it with a pop.
Preoccupied with all of the delicious things Jim’s doing with his mouth, Pam doesn’t notice when he moves his hand lower and lightly drags one of his fingers through her wetness; she gasps aloud, though, when he purposefully brushes his knuckle against her clit.
“Jesus!” she exclaims, biting onto her lip and grabbing onto the covers and digging her toes into the mattress and Jim still can’t get over how sensitive the pregnancy’s made her; before, she didn’t like it when he focused on her clit, preferring the feeling of internal stimulation. In the last few months, though, he’s gotten her off multiple times without slipping even one finger inside of her. It delights him, the way every little thing is magnified for her, every little ounce of pleasure he gives her explodes until she’s completely helpless, writhing and moaning and whimpering and begging him to do something, anything, just-
“Oh, god, Jim, just let me come,” she cries, and just like that his fingers are gone and his mouth is gone and the only bit of him she can feel is his foot rubbing against her own. She looks up at him through the haze of her own desire in her eyes and sees him bringing his hand to his mouth, brushing the finger covered in her juices against his lips.
He can still smell peaches, but now the scent is mixed with that of Pam herself, earthy and bitter and sensual. After all the times he’s gone down on her, it’s become an instant aphrodisiac to him, and he can’t keep himself from moaning out loud as he sucks his finger into his mouth.
The next thing he knows, Pam’s up on her knees and yanking his finger away, replacing it with her mouth, kissing him with all she’s got while quickly tugging his jeans off and then taking his face in her hands, pulling him close to her, as close as he can be, close enough that she can feel every bit of him against her, his skin and his hair and his cock. She can taste herself on his lips, on his tongue, and it’s so fucking hot knowing that that’s her on Jim’s lips, her on Jim’s tongue.
The kiss ends and they part, both panting. Pam impatiently pulls on his boxers and Jim lets out a breathy laugh, reaches down to help her; they remove the striped cloth, the last physical barrier between them, together.
Pam leans forward, shifts herself so she’s hovering directly over him and yes, thank God, he didn’t think he could last much longer, not with her softness and her curves and her curls all around him, surrounding him, making him want to cry out loud and come just from the sensation of being tangled up in Pam.
“Ready?” she asks and he nods, prepares to reach up and pull her down, but she shakes her head ‘no.’ When he looks at her quizzically, she simply says, “Let me do this. Trust me.”
“Always,” he responds, looking into her eyes, and she leans forward and presses a sweet kiss to his lips, but only for a moment, and then she's pulling away, she braces herself on his shoulders and then slides down, ever so slowly, and she’s just taking her fucking sweet time now, isn’t she, and “Jesus, Pam - Pam” - the head of his cock is slipping inside now, her tightness is enveloping him, and he ca feel her slick walls gripping him, pulling him in farther.
Pam groans and, in one fluid movement, lowers herself onto his cock; Jim feels every muscle of her abdomen tense under his hand as his cock stretches her, pushes all the way back until he’s in her totally; totally, utterly, completely in her, and fucking hell, he doesn’t know if he’s ever filled her this completely before, felt her squeezing him this tightly, that’s how far in he is. And he barely has time to comprehend it before she’s moaning and rolling her hips just ever so slightly, just the tiniest bit, really, but she’s still squeezing Jim’s cock and fuck, she’s tight, so tight, and his, too. All his.
“Jesus Christ, Pam, oh, Jesus, fuck, Pam, oh!” He’s always been vocal during sex, but this is just unbelievable; he doesn’t even know what’s coming out of mouth now, names of every deity known to mankind and adjectives he didn’t even know he remembered from his high school Spanish class and little grunting noises that aren’t words and her name, God, her name on his lips, the name of this fucking amazing woman’s who’s lifting herself off of him now and then slamming back down, impaling herself on him, fucking him so thoroughly he can feel every nerve ending in his body tingling with his impending release.
“Jim, oh God,” she hisses, biting her lip and letting her eyes roll back into her head; she reaches up to tweak one of her nipples, tugging on the tight peak with her fingers, and Jim’s so captivated by the sight of Pam’s hand on her breast, Pam’s head pressed against the headboard, the slight curve of Pam’s belly, his own cock plunging in out of Pam’s body – so fucking captivated that it takes him a moment but still his instincts kick in and he reaches up, swats her hand away, cups her breast in his palm.
She’s writhing on top of him now; he can feel her walls starting to spasm, feel her clenching around him, and if he thought she couldn’t get any tighter before then he was wrong because he can’t believe how fucking good she feels around his cock right now, gripping him inside of her, coaxing his own orgasm out of him even as she throws her head back and cries out loud and starts to come. A great big shudder goes through her body and she blindly reaches out, needing something, anything to ground her as she loses herself, gives herself completely to him; Jim grasps harder onto her hips with his hands and even as his nails dig into her skin she relaxes because he’s there, he’s with her, he’s Jim and he’s there and he’ll always be there.
“Oh, shit, Jim, I love you,” she cries out, and he watches her breasts heave with every breath and her eyes flutter beneath her lashes and he can’t hold it in anymore, he’s groaning and he feels his balls tensing and then he’s coming, coming inside of Pam, his Pam, his wife, and oh God.
When he can finally breathe again, he opens his eyes and looks at her. Her cheeks are flushed and her hair is tousled and still a little damp from her shower and there are bright red spots from his teeth and his mouth all over her skin and he can’t deny it, she looks thoroughly fucking ravished. She smiles up at him, all teeth and lips and happiness.
He buries his head in her collarbone, kissing it, nuzzling it. He smells sweat and peaches and Pam and he can’t remember the last time he felt so exhausted and sweaty and deliriously fucking happy.
“Jim?” she asks, reaching up to brush away some of the hair sticking to his forehead. He grins down at her.
“Yes?”
“You’ll still want to do this with me when I’m…really pregnant, right?” She blinks up at him and her hand drifts subconsciously down to rub her stomach. Jim almost laughs, but he knows it’d hurt her so he restrains himself. She needs him to be serious about this.
“Are you serious?” He tangles his hand in hers and they press against her stomach together, both feeling the feminine roundness of her belly. “I have waited for this for…so long,” he continues, “and I…I wouldn’t give it up for the world. I wouldn’t give you up for the world. Or little Beesly-Halpert Junior in here.” He taps at her belly button.
“…even if I turn into a blueberry?” she asks, but the worry is gone from her eyes and her nose crinkles with her smile.
“Especially if you turn into a blueberry,” he laughs, fondly stroking her belly and then letting his fingers fall lower to tangle in the curls at the apex of her thighs. She groans and half-heartedly swats at him.
“I am so not ready for more of that yet,” she grumbles, burying her head into his shoulder. “I’m exhausted. And hungry.” Suddenly her eyes light up. “Jim, your pregnant wife is hungry. Wouldn’t you love to go fetch her something to eat?” Jim rolls his eyes in pretend exasperation, but inside he can’t believe the absolute warmth he felt when he heard Pam refer to herself as his pregnant wife. His wife.
“Alright,” he laughs, disentangling his limbs from hers with a sigh and pulling himself to his feet. She whistles appreciatively at the sight of his naked body and he glares at her.
“You were the one who told me to stop, missy!” Pam raises her hands innocently and shakes her head, eyes wide.
“I’m not starting anything, Jim,” she grins. “I was just admiring my thoroughly ravished husband.” He rolls his eyes and bends over to pick her towel up from the floor, wrapping it around his waist with a smirk.
“Well, no more admiration. Admiration can lead to more…exhausting behaviors and let’s face it. You’re hungry and, honestly, so am I. What are you in the mood for?” Pam pulls the sheets over her body and rolls onto her stomach, kicking her legs in the air.
“No idea. You?” Jim looks back at her with a wicked grin.
“I’m kind of craving some peaches, actually.”
Story Notes:
All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, actors, or producers of The Office. No copyright infringement is intended - so please don't sue! ;)
Title from Just in Time by Elizabeth and the Catapult.
Title from Just in Time by Elizabeth and the Catapult.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Hi, MTT! This isn't my first time dabbling in Office fandom - I write lots of Karen/Pam over on LJ - but it is my first Jim/Pam fic. I'm glad to dip my toes into writing this lovely pairing!
This is by far the dirtiest thing I have ever written, so. Um. Yeah. Wow.
A thousand thanks to my hotass, amazing beta, Marcia.
*
This is by far the dirtiest thing I have ever written, so. Um. Yeah. Wow.
A thousand thanks to my hotass, amazing beta, Marcia.
*
Chapter End Notes:
Well...that was embarrassing. I'm going to curl up in my little corner now.
Thanks very much for reading; I hope you enjoyed it! Comments are love! :)
Thanks very much for reading; I hope you enjoyed it! Comments are love! :)
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