Just Like John Wayne (The Office, Ryan/Kelly, R)
title: Just Like John Wayne
fandom: The Office
pairing: Ryan/Kelly, blink and you'll miss it Pam/Karen
rating: R
notes: For lily_268, who was having a bad day. I know it's like, a week after the fact, but hopefully it helps anyway, chica. My eternal gratitude to dementedlove and transgenics for looking it over and reassuring me it didn't suck, even though neither of them watch the show, and scarletangel68 for liking it even though she does watch the show. :D Also, uh, I have no idea how to spell Kelly's last name. I got a couple different versions from a couple different places. I went with the one that seemed most popular.
Kelly likes to pretend that when Ryan acts indifferent, it's because he's really, really emotional inside, but he's too manly to let it show. He's like...John Wayne.
Most days, she can handle it. She can be enthusiastic about the relationship enough for both of them. But some days, even though macho is so in right now, she just wants him to hold her hand without looking embarrassed or kiss her in front of people without doing that weird side-to-side glance thing.
She read in Cosmo, or Elle, or one of those magazines with Reese Witherspoon on the cover (and oh my god, how devastated was Kelly when Ryan Phillipe dumped her? Kelly cried for days, because if Reese can't even hold onto a man, how is Kelly supposed to?) that even though it's kind of cruel, withholding sex is a really good way to get your man interested again. Kelly hasn't tried it yet, because sometimes she thinks if she withheld, Ryan would just be relieved that he could go find it elsewhere, but she is getting desperate. They've been dating for over a year and he still hasn't. You know, she tells Pam furtively, flicking her eyes in a general downward direction really, really fast so Pam won't think she's slutty.
So one night at Ryan's, instead of blowing him after pizza and Halo like usual, she picks up her purse, gives him a kiss on the cheek, and tells him she has to be in bed early because she's just not been feeling herself lately. He looks a little confused, but it's Ryan so she's not sure if that's a reaction to her changing things up or not.
The next day at work, he keeps giving her these little glances, but when she looks up at him, he looks away. She invites herself over for dinner, as usual, and when she's doing the dishes, she makes sure the water splashes her very thin, very white shirt, and pretends she doesn't notice it's basically transparent when she has to lean in front of Ryan to grab her purse on the way out.
The next day's Saturday, and she spends most of the day at Ryan's apartment, dusting and vacuuming and tidying in very...breathable fabric. She notices not a lot of Halo gets played, and she really hates to impose, but can she use his shower? She's all dirty and sweaty and she really needs to get out of these clothes. She considers it a victory when Ryan has a hard time choking out a simple, "Sure." She takes a little bit more satisfaction than she should in leaving in one of his t-shirts, sans bra, soaked hair weighing the shirt down and not leaving much to the imagination, blowing him a quick kiss and apologizing, but she just really, really needs to get home.
Sunday she spends at home, turns the phone off so she won't even be tempted to answer if it's Ryan. She soaks in bubble bath and does her nails and gives herself a facial, because come Monday, she expects the war to be won.
Sure enough, Monday morning Ryan is there bright and early, and Michael's not even there yet, so it's not like he sent Ryan on a breakfast sandwich run.
Kelly purposely strolls past his desk, and she knows she looks cute in her new purple heels with the flower at the toe, and her ivory knee-length skirt (she looks way good in white, even Ryan told her that once) and a violet blouse.
Ryan raises one hand in greeting, and that's more than he's ever done, but it's still not enough. Kelly keeps walking.
She gets all settled in and heads for the bathroom, because there is a routine for making the most of your mornings, and she follows it to a tee. Lip gloss needs to be touched up, hair needs to be flipped, cleavage needs to be plumped, and her reflection needs a daily affirmation (“You are hot, Kelly Kapoor!”)
She's halfway through re-glossing when the door opens, and god, she hopes it's not Meredith coming in to throw up before she starts drinking again, or Phyllis to refresh her perfume. If it's one or the other, though, she'd take the puking over the perfume. Ew.
But it's neither, it's Ryan, and she's already composing a thank you letter to Cosmo or Elle or whatever it was, because he's looking at her like she's the Secret Super Mega Amazing Combo Attack Cheat for Halo or whatever it is he does.
He doesn't even wait for her to turn around, and ew, that's kind of dirty, right, pressing all up against her, and she is not going to let him ruin this skirt, it cost her three hundred dollars and - oh. Oh. His hand's sliding up her knee, up her thigh, and ok, maybe if the skirt gets ruined it's not the most important thing in the world. But the blouse, he better not touch the blouse, because it was a gift from someone, she doesn't really remember who -
And ok, she guesses that's not really a big deal either when he pulls the buttons apart and wraps his pale hands around the cups of her super cute bra (it's violet to match her blouse and shoes.)
And even the bra's not really a problem when he rips some of the lace trying to get it apart, and geez, it's even a front-clasping one because she thought they might have this problem, but she thought he'd be in front of her like he's supposed to be, so it would be easy with a front-clasp, but now he's behind her and she should've gone with the white-lace back-clasp.
He finally gets the thing apart, and let it never be said playing video games does nothing for hand-eye coordination. His thumbs flick over her nipples, and she's seen him use that move more than once on those little joystick things on his controller, but oh, she's going to have to quit nagging him to quit playing so much if this is the end result. She shudders, stares at him in the mirror, at both of them, and oh my god, they are going to have the cutest babies ever.
He seems to be really into watching himself in the mirror, too, but there's only so many things you can do in this position (and she's not having sex in the women's bathroom with her hips digging into the sink, thankyouverymuch) so she turns around, spins on her little heels and that's a move she's been practicing, pushing him back into a stall. No way is she getting caught having sex in the women's bathroom, either. She's a little more discreet than Pam and Karen, who didn't even bother to leave a note on the door or anything, and Kelly really didn't need to walk in on that.
Ryan lets her push, and really, did she expect anything else out of him? She pushes until he drops onto one of the (closed, thank god) toilets, knees wide and face open, looking up at her like she's a goddess and she could definitely get used to this. She doesn't see why it's so hard for guys to go a little while without sex, anyway, there are alternatives, and she just happens to have three of them in pink, purple, and baby blue. They're gonna come in handy when she needs to pull this kind of stunt again.
She wastes no time getting him unzipped, and he uses those pale hands to push her skirt up over her hips, pulls her matching violet lace panties down, and when she sinks down onto him, she remembers why alternatives are just that: alternatives. To be used when the real thing isn't available.
He's warm and thick inside her, and oh my god she's glad she snagged this one before the rest of the girls got to him, because he's cute and funny and smart and he might not be the most considerate of lovers, but he knows what he's doing in bed. Or in a stall, either way.
Ryan lets out this groan, nothing like the one he makes when his guy dies in the game, nothing like the one he makes when Kelly makes plans for them without asking him first, but like he's totally happy to be where he's at, and Kelly's not sure he's ever made that noise before. She flexes (Kegel exercises are so worth it) and he bucks up, fingers digging into her hips and head thrown back against the wall. Yeah, he's definitely never made that noise before.
She runs her fingers through the hair at his temples and pulls him forward, his eyes closed but his lips seeking out her nipple and latching on in the same way she can find her emergency lip gloss in her purse without even looking. Kelly twists a little, settles back down on his lap and that must have been a really good move, because he grabs her back and it kind of hurts a little, but the way he pushes up into her, the way his free hand comes up to stroke his thumb over her the sensitive little nub between her legs like he really wants her to enjoy this makes it ok. Oh, more than ok, and he better not think he's ever getting away with not doing that again, because he obviously knows exactly what he's doing.
Kelly grabs his face and pulls it up to meet her, lips sliding against his (her lip gloss is really glossy) and she comes with a high-pitched gasp into his mouth. Ryan's usually totally quiet when he comes, mouth pursed and face in this really concentrated look like he's doing paperwork or something instead of having sex, but this time he goes, “KellyKellyKellyKellyKelly,” and she really feels like she's accomplished something here today.
They're both just sitting there, Ryan's face back in her cleavage and Kelly using her pinky finger to wipe the smears of lip gloss away from the skin around her mouth when the door opens, and there's a quick scuttle of feet before the stall next to them opens and Meredith's going, “Oh god, I'm never drinking again.” Pause. “Don't quote me on that.”
Ryan stands up, quick like he usually does after sex, but this time he helps her straighten out her skirt, smooths a hand down over her hair, and gives the bra a quick, helpless glance before he bolts.
Kelly goes back to the mirror, re-applying the gloss and making sure she only looks a little bit like she just had before-work sex.
fandom: The Office
pairing: Ryan/Kelly, blink and you'll miss it Pam/Karen
rating: R
notes: For lily_268, who was having a bad day. I know it's like, a week after the fact, but hopefully it helps anyway, chica. My eternal gratitude to dementedlove and transgenics for looking it over and reassuring me it didn't suck, even though neither of them watch the show, and scarletangel68 for liking it even though she does watch the show. :D Also, uh, I have no idea how to spell Kelly's last name. I got a couple different versions from a couple different places. I went with the one that seemed most popular.
Kelly likes to pretend that when Ryan acts indifferent, it's because he's really, really emotional inside, but he's too manly to let it show. He's like...John Wayne.
Most days, she can handle it. She can be enthusiastic about the relationship enough for both of them. But some days, even though macho is so in right now, she just wants him to hold her hand without looking embarrassed or kiss her in front of people without doing that weird side-to-side glance thing.
She read in Cosmo, or Elle, or one of those magazines with Reese Witherspoon on the cover (and oh my god, how devastated was Kelly when Ryan Phillipe dumped her? Kelly cried for days, because if Reese can't even hold onto a man, how is Kelly supposed to?) that even though it's kind of cruel, withholding sex is a really good way to get your man interested again. Kelly hasn't tried it yet, because sometimes she thinks if she withheld, Ryan would just be relieved that he could go find it elsewhere, but she is getting desperate. They've been dating for over a year and he still hasn't. You know, she tells Pam furtively, flicking her eyes in a general downward direction really, really fast so Pam won't think she's slutty.
So one night at Ryan's, instead of blowing him after pizza and Halo like usual, she picks up her purse, gives him a kiss on the cheek, and tells him she has to be in bed early because she's just not been feeling herself lately. He looks a little confused, but it's Ryan so she's not sure if that's a reaction to her changing things up or not.
The next day at work, he keeps giving her these little glances, but when she looks up at him, he looks away. She invites herself over for dinner, as usual, and when she's doing the dishes, she makes sure the water splashes her very thin, very white shirt, and pretends she doesn't notice it's basically transparent when she has to lean in front of Ryan to grab her purse on the way out.
The next day's Saturday, and she spends most of the day at Ryan's apartment, dusting and vacuuming and tidying in very...breathable fabric. She notices not a lot of Halo gets played, and she really hates to impose, but can she use his shower? She's all dirty and sweaty and she really needs to get out of these clothes. She considers it a victory when Ryan has a hard time choking out a simple, "Sure." She takes a little bit more satisfaction than she should in leaving in one of his t-shirts, sans bra, soaked hair weighing the shirt down and not leaving much to the imagination, blowing him a quick kiss and apologizing, but she just really, really needs to get home.
Sunday she spends at home, turns the phone off so she won't even be tempted to answer if it's Ryan. She soaks in bubble bath and does her nails and gives herself a facial, because come Monday, she expects the war to be won.
Sure enough, Monday morning Ryan is there bright and early, and Michael's not even there yet, so it's not like he sent Ryan on a breakfast sandwich run.
Kelly purposely strolls past his desk, and she knows she looks cute in her new purple heels with the flower at the toe, and her ivory knee-length skirt (she looks way good in white, even Ryan told her that once) and a violet blouse.
Ryan raises one hand in greeting, and that's more than he's ever done, but it's still not enough. Kelly keeps walking.
She gets all settled in and heads for the bathroom, because there is a routine for making the most of your mornings, and she follows it to a tee. Lip gloss needs to be touched up, hair needs to be flipped, cleavage needs to be plumped, and her reflection needs a daily affirmation (“You are hot, Kelly Kapoor!”)
She's halfway through re-glossing when the door opens, and god, she hopes it's not Meredith coming in to throw up before she starts drinking again, or Phyllis to refresh her perfume. If it's one or the other, though, she'd take the puking over the perfume. Ew.
But it's neither, it's Ryan, and she's already composing a thank you letter to Cosmo or Elle or whatever it was, because he's looking at her like she's the Secret Super Mega Amazing Combo Attack Cheat for Halo or whatever it is he does.
He doesn't even wait for her to turn around, and ew, that's kind of dirty, right, pressing all up against her, and she is not going to let him ruin this skirt, it cost her three hundred dollars and - oh. Oh. His hand's sliding up her knee, up her thigh, and ok, maybe if the skirt gets ruined it's not the most important thing in the world. But the blouse, he better not touch the blouse, because it was a gift from someone, she doesn't really remember who -
And ok, she guesses that's not really a big deal either when he pulls the buttons apart and wraps his pale hands around the cups of her super cute bra (it's violet to match her blouse and shoes.)
And even the bra's not really a problem when he rips some of the lace trying to get it apart, and geez, it's even a front-clasping one because she thought they might have this problem, but she thought he'd be in front of her like he's supposed to be, so it would be easy with a front-clasp, but now he's behind her and she should've gone with the white-lace back-clasp.
He finally gets the thing apart, and let it never be said playing video games does nothing for hand-eye coordination. His thumbs flick over her nipples, and she's seen him use that move more than once on those little joystick things on his controller, but oh, she's going to have to quit nagging him to quit playing so much if this is the end result. She shudders, stares at him in the mirror, at both of them, and oh my god, they are going to have the cutest babies ever.
He seems to be really into watching himself in the mirror, too, but there's only so many things you can do in this position (and she's not having sex in the women's bathroom with her hips digging into the sink, thankyouverymuch) so she turns around, spins on her little heels and that's a move she's been practicing, pushing him back into a stall. No way is she getting caught having sex in the women's bathroom, either. She's a little more discreet than Pam and Karen, who didn't even bother to leave a note on the door or anything, and Kelly really didn't need to walk in on that.
Ryan lets her push, and really, did she expect anything else out of him? She pushes until he drops onto one of the (closed, thank god) toilets, knees wide and face open, looking up at her like she's a goddess and she could definitely get used to this. She doesn't see why it's so hard for guys to go a little while without sex, anyway, there are alternatives, and she just happens to have three of them in pink, purple, and baby blue. They're gonna come in handy when she needs to pull this kind of stunt again.
She wastes no time getting him unzipped, and he uses those pale hands to push her skirt up over her hips, pulls her matching violet lace panties down, and when she sinks down onto him, she remembers why alternatives are just that: alternatives. To be used when the real thing isn't available.
He's warm and thick inside her, and oh my god she's glad she snagged this one before the rest of the girls got to him, because he's cute and funny and smart and he might not be the most considerate of lovers, but he knows what he's doing in bed. Or in a stall, either way.
Ryan lets out this groan, nothing like the one he makes when his guy dies in the game, nothing like the one he makes when Kelly makes plans for them without asking him first, but like he's totally happy to be where he's at, and Kelly's not sure he's ever made that noise before. She flexes (Kegel exercises are so worth it) and he bucks up, fingers digging into her hips and head thrown back against the wall. Yeah, he's definitely never made that noise before.
She runs her fingers through the hair at his temples and pulls him forward, his eyes closed but his lips seeking out her nipple and latching on in the same way she can find her emergency lip gloss in her purse without even looking. Kelly twists a little, settles back down on his lap and that must have been a really good move, because he grabs her back and it kind of hurts a little, but the way he pushes up into her, the way his free hand comes up to stroke his thumb over her the sensitive little nub between her legs like he really wants her to enjoy this makes it ok. Oh, more than ok, and he better not think he's ever getting away with not doing that again, because he obviously knows exactly what he's doing.
Kelly grabs his face and pulls it up to meet her, lips sliding against his (her lip gloss is really glossy) and she comes with a high-pitched gasp into his mouth. Ryan's usually totally quiet when he comes, mouth pursed and face in this really concentrated look like he's doing paperwork or something instead of having sex, but this time he goes, “KellyKellyKellyKellyKelly,” and she really feels like she's accomplished something here today.
They're both just sitting there, Ryan's face back in her cleavage and Kelly using her pinky finger to wipe the smears of lip gloss away from the skin around her mouth when the door opens, and there's a quick scuttle of feet before the stall next to them opens and Meredith's going, “Oh god, I'm never drinking again.” Pause. “Don't quote me on that.”
Ryan stands up, quick like he usually does after sex, but this time he helps her straighten out her skirt, smooths a hand down over her hair, and gives the bra a quick, helpless glance before he bolts.
Kelly goes back to the mirror, re-applying the gloss and making sure she only looks a little bit like she just had before-work sex.