He's never noticed it. During the day, it's drowned out by chirping phones and clacking keys and Michael. But now it's an insistent buzz, bumping against the screen of his brain, mildly threatening but hard to locate. Crazy-making.

He's trying to gather the will to get off the couch and pack his shit and just go for chrissake. But there's the hum and it's new, except he knows it's been with him since he started, and now he's reluctant to leave it.

He closes his eyes, lets his head fall back on the cushion.

One more minute.

The office door opens with a click. Dwight backs in, closing it quietly.

Damn.

"Oh! What're you doing here? The office is off-limits at night."

"Then what're you doing here?"

"Uh..." Dwight glances toward - reception? accounting? "Nothing. Just checking on a noise."

"You heard a noise from the warehouse. In the middle of Casino Night."

"Yes. I mean, no. Stop trying to change the subject. Why are you in here?"

Jim sighs and stands. "I just came up to talk to Pam."

"Pam's here? Where? What did you do?" Dwight glances nervously at his desk.

"We didn't do anything. She's gone."

"Oh. So why did you want to talk to her? Why here? It's a violation, you know."

"You wanna know why, Dwight? You really wanna know?"

"Yes?"

"Because fifteen minutes ago, in the parking lot, I told her I'm in love with her."

"Pam's engaged."

"I know, Dwight."

"To Roy."

Jim closes his eyes.

"Well, she is."

"I know that, Dwight. I just needed to talk to her one more time." Then he mutters, "Except I didn't. I kissed her."

"You kissed Pam?"

"Why am I telling you this?"

"What did she say?"

"She didn't say anything. She just shook her head and left."

Dwight nods knowingly. "That's probably because she's engaged."

Jim groans.

"To Roy."

"God. Dwight." He puts his hands on either side of Dwight's face, shaking him slightly to emphasize his words. "I love her, Dwight. I've loved her for a long time, and when I told her, it didn't go well, and I walked away, but I'm not supposed to give up, ever, so I came up here to... to try again. Can you understand that? Haven't you ever been in love?"

"Of course I have been. Am. Currently." Again, he glances toward a dark corner. "But that's none of your business. Office romances -"

Jim lowers his head, squeezing his eyes shut. Normally he can block him out, or just walk away - why can't I just fucking walk out of here? But Dwight's talking to him, actually gives a shit enough to use words, and his hair is curling around Jim's fingertips. Oh god.

"Shut up shut up shut up," Jim whispers desperately.

But he knows it isn't enough, that the hum's only going to keep going, forever, taking his mind with it. For the second time tonight, he leans in to stop the words.

Except he doesn't have to lean. It's the first time he's ever kissed someone his own height, so when he pulls Dwight in, it feels... equal. And if Dwight wasn't stiff with shock, Jim thinks he might feel almost protected. But Dwight is stiff, and Jim is mostly kissing his teeth, and it isn't quite right, so he backs off a moment, his eyes still closed, his breath bouncing off Dwight's chin and back to him.

"W-what -?"

"Shh."

And this time, he's more gentle. He kisses him softly, but waits, doesn't give up, and after a moment Dwight relaxes slightly. His lips are dry and soft, and when he breathes again, it feels warm on Jim's face. When Dwight's hands come up to rest on his sides, they're large and warm, and Jim's breath comes out in something of a sob. It causes him to open his mouth slightly, and then he's pressing more firmly, and tasting ginger ale and peppermints, smelling aftershave as familiar as his own.

But he can't stand to add that to the things he's leaving, so he pulls away.

His hands drop to rest on Dwight's shoulders. The lapels feel smooth under his thumbs, like her dress. When he looks up, he has to right Dwight's glasses before he can look him in the eyes properly. He doesn't dare dwell on what he sees there, because he's afraid it might be respect.

"Goodbye, Dwight."

It's three steps to the office door, five more to the stairs.

He hears "Wait, don't you mean good night?" just before the stairwell door clangs shut behind him.

He hopes the hum in his ears will stop eventually.