Jim slams Ryan up against the wall. Ryan smells the alcohol on Halpert's breath about a second before he slams his mouth down on Ryan's. It isn't about some hidden love that Halpert had kept hidden for him or some stupid shit like that; it's all because Roy was taking his girl away from him.

He and a few other guys from work had decided to get drinks together after work, and eventually, awkwardly Ryan was left with a very drunk Jim. As in, "Hello, my name is Three-Sheets-to-the-Wind Halpert." And Ryan, in a rare moment of gallantry, was going to drive him home since he was: a) well over the legal limit of drinks and b) the love of his life was marrying a guy who didn't love her or treat her right.

They made it as far as alcove by the bathrooms before Jim made his move.

Ryan pulled away.

"Ugghh, Halpert, what the fuck are you doing?"

Jim steadies himself by putting his hands on either side of Ryan's head.

"You've got like, really gorgeous blue eyes," he says, as if that explained everything.

He moves down to kiss those pink lips again.

Ryan shoves his shoulders.

"Dude, get a grip on yourself."

Jim, unfazed, moves to get even closer to him than before.

"How about I get a grip on you?"

Ryan rolls his eyes. That was cheesy even for an inebriated Jim. He tugs on Jim's sleeve with the intent of dragging him back to the car so he could drop Jim off so he could go home and sleep.

"Come on. We need to get you home."

But Jim just stood there, head cocked to the side, looking at him oddly.

"Do you even know how fucking pretty you are?"

And hell if that didn't stir something inside him. Jim's got his sad, brown doe eyes looking mournfully at him, and he looks like he's gonna cry. And his usual grin is replaced by this thin line of sadness. He looks like he really believes everything he's saying, even though he's too out of it to really be making any decisions right now.

Ryan tries one more time, his voice huskier than before.

"Come on, Halpert. We need to get you home before you do something you'll regret later."

He finally gets Jim home and everything seems like it's ok as they stumble towards Jim's bedroom. He pulls off Jim's shoes as he lays in a tense, silent heap on the bed. He tells Jim that he's leaving now and makes it as far as the door and then Jim's crying, tears falling freely down his face as he loses what little control he had over his emotions.

Shit.

"Dude, it's gonna be ok. You just need to sleep this off, maybe take tomorrow off until the hangover's gone."

He plays it off as if he's just crying because he's drunk and not because he's losing Pam. Ryan tries to ignore the sound of Jim's sobbing, but looking back at him, he's instantly reminded of the lonely nights he spent when he was basically running the whole goddamned company. The nights when all he could think about was Kelly and Michael and Toby as he crashed down from his high. He couldn't leave Jim alone.

Ryan walks over to Jim's side of the bed, the moon bathing them in soft white light.

"I'll stay with you if you want," he whispers.

Jim's eyes slowly open and he kneels on the bed, pulls Ryan by his jacket to get him closer. And before Ryan knows it, they're missing most of their clothes and he's hard and Jim's erection is pressing into his stomach. They're kissing again and all Ryan can taste is alcohol, alcohol, alcohol, and this should feel dirty and wrong, but Jim's lips just fit with his so seamlessly that he can't bear feel anything but the throbbing of his heart and the heat in his groin every time Jim thrusts up.

When they break away for air, Ryan asks him a question. "Did you really mean what you said?"

"About what?" Jim moans as he scrapes his nails down Ryan's back.

"You told me I was 'fucking pretty.' Did you mean it or were you just saying that so I'd come back with you?"

Ryan kisses him behind his left ear.

"Would you be mad if I said it was both?" he answers, Jim bites his neck. He leaves a mark. Ryan grunts.

"I guess it doesn't matter now," Ryan says, kissing down Jim's body.

Ear, mouth, neck, nipple, stomach…He looks up at Jim expectantly. Those fucking blue, crystal blue, eyes looking at him like he'll do just about anything for him. So Jim lifts his hips so Ryan can pull his jeans and boxers off. He whimpers as Ryan opens his mouth and takes him in. He chokes and coughs a few times, never having been on the giving end of this, but Jim doesn't seem to mind. In fact, after he can't take it anymore, Jim's got him by the hair, pumping in and out of his mouth as Ryan lets himself be used. It's not much longer before Ryan hears a pained grunt and feels a salty stream hit the back of his throat a few times before the thrusting stops as he lets go of Ryan's hair.

Ryan quickly spits into the garbage can Jim has on the other side of his bed. He shudders at the taste. No wonder girls don't like to do that; it's disgusting.

When he looks up again, Jim's got this blissed out smile spreading across his face as he sighs in pure happiness. He looks like he doesn't have a care in the world while the afterglow clings to him. But them, his eyebrow twitches and he knows that he's gotta be thinking of her since his smile soon falters and his mouth becomes a frown again. He stops panting and all of his muscles suddenly relax. It's back to reality.

"You should go home, Ryan," he says softly, staring straight up at the ceiling.

Ryan's still hard and his weeping cock has left a wet spot in his boxers, and he wants to yell at Jim for taking advantage of him when it really should have been the other way around. He wants to yell that he's a fucking cock tease to men and women alike and if he really wanted Pam back, all he'd have to do is ask her. He wants to, but all he says is, "Can I use your bathroom?"

It takes him about a minute to jerk off before he's leaving Jim's house to go back to his own. Jim Halpert, the man who could have sex with anyone he wanted and did. Shit.

Ryan gets to the office about an hour late the next morning. He knows he can get away with it since Michael's had this weird man-crush on him for ages. What is with guys just wanting to use him lately? It's actually kind of pathetic.

Jim doesn't show up and he can tell that Pam is worried the way she keeps looking at the door and back to his desk every five seconds.

Kevin teases him about the hickey.

He was wrong. He's the pathetic one.