Work Text:
1
You had always felt different. Off, separate, or not comfortable in your skin. No matter the descriptor, it made you shrink into yourself and try to disappear away from anyone else. The idea of the world perceiving you when you couldn’t even recognize the person in the mirror? That wasn’t who you were and you certainly didn’t want people to think it was, but what else were you supposed to do? It took a lot of soul searching, self-discovery, and a few mistakes but you eventually realized the biggest factor of your discomfort.
You were a man. You were born with the wrong body, you presented the wrong way your entire life. Adding it all together made sense, especially when you thought back to your childhood- a lot of things made sense now. Now you knew, and this was your chance. You knew transitioning into who you wanted to be- who you are- would be a long and painful journey, but it felt worth it. Something finally felt worth it for once.
Staring at yourself in the mirror, you took in your appearance. Your hair was long, nearly down most of your back, though you usually tried to keep it up into a tight bun most of the time. Your closet next to you was full of blouses, skirts, and dresses. Business professional outfits, fit to wear to Dunder Mifflin paper company, where you worked in customer service alongside one of the most feminine women you’ve ever met- Kelly Kapoor. When you first started, she had gone on and on about how you two were going to be the best girlfriends, go shopping and get manicures and whatnot. You weren’t very excited, and after turning her down one too many times to just relax at home instead, she eventually stopped inviting you. After a few repeated outfits, she even stopped commenting on how cute- how feminine- you were. You preferred when everyone glossed over you, eyes skipping your form as if you weren’t there.
Biting your lip, you turn around and eye the suit laid out on your bed. You had gone out and tried on multiple suits- you didn’t bother getting anything tailored specifically for your form, feeling too self conscious for such an act- but you returned with only one that fit well and looked nice. It was a solid colour, a dull khaki. You hoped the dullness would be less noticeable, that you could just slip in without issue. You eyed the full masculine suit in front of you, approaching and letting your hand drag against the rough fabric.
Anxiety welled up in your chest and you took a deep breath, stepping back again. It seemed too big a step, too much all at once. So, what if you took a smaller step? You studied the suit through your floor-length mirror, then turned and returned to it. Instead of lifting the whole outfit, you wrangled the slacks off of the hanger. You slipped them on, buttoned them up, and studied your half-dressed appearance in the mirror. Nothing even really looked that different right now, so a very small step indeed, but it felt different. Your smile slowly grew, and after finally settling that feeling in your chest, you reached into your closet for a blouse.
The drive to work was rainy, the skies full of grey that matched your dull outfit. After rushing into the Scranton business park, you pulled your oversized hoodie off of your form and smoothed down your blouse with a huff. You smiled and nodded toward the security guard, then took the elevator up. That anxious feeling returned- were you really going to do this? Sure, it was only slacks. Plenty of women in the office wore pants to work- but this was your first time. Maybe no one would notice? No one ever noticed you anyway.
Ding! You held your breath as the elevator doors opened, then let it out slowly before finally stepping off. You pushed through the glass doors, nodding toward Pam when she welcomes you in. You watched her do a double take at your appearance, then lowered your head and tried to rush to the annexe where your desk and safe haven remained. You were stopped in your path by a tall figure, and glancing up you were met with those silly glasses. You hardly ever interacted with Dwight, but you heard the stories.
“Y/N, you are in violation of the dress code.” You blink a few times, staring at the man blocking your way. You huff, shaking your head.
“No, I’m not.”
“You’re not wearing your usual skirt with that blouse, nor any of the three dresses you own.” You raise your eyebrows at this, a horrified look crossing your face. He knew how many dresses you owned? Who is this man?
“As far as I remember, Dwight, slacks are allowed per the dress code.”
“Yeah, for men,” Dwight added, crossing his arms. He couldn’t possibly know the spear of hurt that lanced through your chest at those words. You felt unable to continue, unable to think up any sort of response to that. Unable to even breathe.
“Dwight, leave her alone.” You turned to see Pam walk up behind you, placing a hand on the small of your back in solidarity. She couldn’t possibly know the tightening of your chest from hearing that pronoun- but at least she was trying to help.
“It’s in clear violation-”
“There is no violation here, Dwight! Look at what I’m wearing!” You glance down at the same time, taking note of her feminine pants. Comparing the two side by side, you could tell the cut was different for each. How yours widened out and were more masculine- you hoped that they wouldn’t look too closely at that. Returning your gaze to Dwight, you could see a staring contest happening between him and Pam. After a particularly funny raised eyebrow from Pam, Dwight pushed past the both of you.
“Michael!”
“Run, while you still can,” Pam whispers into your ear, and you huff a relieved laugh. Nodding, you walk away from Pam’s hand still on your back, returning to your original path. Before you could get too far, however, you heard your name called from behind.
“Y/N!” You turn, glancing through the various faces before settling on Jim Halpert, one of the best salesmen in the building. Also one of the funniest. “You’re looking fantastic today. Keep it up.” Also, apparently, one of the sweetest.
Unable to respond due to the anxiety choking you still, you nod your head at him with a smile, then hurry to your work.
2
Should you do this?
Earlier, your response would’ve been a resounding yes, but standing here in your bathroom, scissors held open to your hair, you began to wonder. Sure you wanted it cut- well, truthfully you wanted it gone- but maybe you should pay a professional to do it? Taking a deep breath, you let the scissors close.
Cutting your hair was a longer process than you thought it would be. You had to even out the choppy look a few times, but eventually when you finished you felt like you did a decent job. Your hair no longer stretched down your back, tied back and forgotten about. It fell to just above your shoulders, much shorter and much more freeing. Biting your lip, you consider the rest of it. You knew you wanted it even shorter, sure, but you absolutely weren’t confident enough to do all of that by yourself. Maybe you should schedule an appointment with a hairstylist? Or a barber?
Returning to your room, you began pushing through your closet. After the first day of success, you wore the slacks for the second day in a row. Luckily, that had been a Friday, and the following weekend was spent shopping once more. You purchased a few more full suits, only having pulled out the slacks to wear into work since then. There now sat a box in the corner of your closet, full of skirts and three dresses.
You pulled on an outfit, smoothing down your ruffled blouse in the mirror. You frowned to yourself, pulling the sides of the shirt under your armpits and trying to straighten it out more, to fall without showing your curves. But that’s what the shirt was made for, so your insistence was pointless. Eventually, with an aggravated huff, you pulled on your comfy hoodie and made your way out to work.
Short hair was certainly a head-turner, it seemed. Pam had called out your name with a surprised lilt to her tone. This drew the attention of a few people in the bullpen, which began the whispers. By the time you were halfway across the room, it felt like every eye in the room was on you. You heard your name called out behind you, but you pretended to not have heard it, pushing into the break room.
You breathe out shakily, filling the kettle on the counter with water before placing it on the burner. You pull down your favourite mug from the cabinets above, then pulled a teabag from the box you brought in from a nearby drawer. Placing the dry teabag in the empty cup, you were just about to go sit when the door to your left opens, and you look up to see two people entering the break room.
At least it was Pam and Jim. Out of everyone in the office, they certainly seemed the most normal. Jim hesitated at the door, obviously eyeing your new haircut, while Pam took slow steps toward you as if approaching a cornered animal. “So, Y/N,” Pam began, smiling toward you in a stretched way that seemed like she was trying to be comforting while missing the mark. “Did something change? You seem different.”
“You can just say I cut my hair, it’s pretty obvious.” You turn back to the kettle, staring at it and willing it to whistle.
“It is,” Jim agreed from the door, taking a few steps forward. “Looks good, too.”
You startle, raising your eyes quickly to him. “Wait- really?” He nodded, sliding his hands into his pockets. “I had a feeling that everyone was staring because it’s so choppy.”
“It doesn’t look choppy at all!” Pam inserted, smiling encouragingly at you. “It looks brilliantly cut! Where’d you get it done?”
You eyed her, then mumbled under your breath. Pam glanced at Jim with a confused expression, then politely asked you to repeat yourself. You sigh, trying to force a smile. “I did it myself.”
“Wow- that’s- you did this yourself?”
“Like I said,” Jim interrupts, walking around to your other side and leaning a hip against the counter, “Looks good.”
“If you want,” Pam inserts, pulling your attention back to her once again, “I could give you the number to my hair stylist, next time you want a cut?” You bite your lip, turning to stare into your empty tea mug. After a beat, Jim chimes in.
“Or my barber.” You startle once more, your head snapping up quickly in his direction. Your eyes must’ve looked wide and hopeful, as Jim’s smile slowly spread, and he laughed, nodding. “I’ll remember to grab his card next time I’m in.”
3
“Fuck these stupid, floofy, puffed up-”
You growl, tearing the blouse off of your body where you attempted to put it on straight and unwrinkled- instead now throwing it to the floor. You were tempted to stomp on it out of childish aggravation but had just barely refrained. You look back up to your floor-length mirror, slumping at the half-dressed image in front of you. You eyed your bra- you recently switched from padded to sports, and thankfully no one noticed that change in the office- and grumbled under your breath before approaching your closet once more.
Angrily swiping through hangers, none of your blouses appealed to you. You wanted comfortable, not itchy. Straight, formless, and plain- not frilly or cinched at the waist. You push the last of your blouses to the side, growling under your breath in aggravation. You only swiped through half of your closet, and you were now looking at where the remainder of the suits you bought were hanging. Slowly, you felt your shoulders relax as you stared at the hanging dress shirts. You glanced down, checking which coloured pants you were wearing, then quickly grabbed a matching dress shirt.
They were certainly easier to button up as well, though slightly tight in the chest area. You tucked in the shirt, then pulled a belt from your set of drawers nearby to complete the look. Well- not quite complete it. You bit your lip once more as you thought over your new problem. With the lack of a blouse and the addition of a dress shirt, that meant you had to wear a tie. That wasn’t exactly something you were opposed to- if only you knew how to tie one.
You tried and failed multiple times, getting frustrated, sure, but you could see the progress. Glancing at your clock, your eyes widened at the time. You threw the current, wrinkled, tie away and snatched a new one from its hanger. You tried as carefully as you could, and though it sat crooked it was at least there. Enough for work, which you would be late for if you didn’t leave right now.
The weather was grey but lacked the rain that was common in recent months. Generally, you’d grab your hoodie no matter the weather, but something in you felt settled enough to forgo it this time around. You hoped you wouldn’t regret it later.
The business park’s lot was full of cars when you pulled in, having to park in one of the furthest spots. You tried not to run, but you certainly didn’t walk into the building. By the time the elevator dinged, you had completely forgotten about your change in dress. Rushing out of the elevator, you pushed through the glass doors and immediately tilted your head to the side to see the clock. You released a sigh of relief- you made it by three minutes.
“You know,” Pam whispered from her spot behind the receptionist’s desk, and you took a few steps closer, “It really isn’t the end of the world if you’re just a bit late.”
“I wouldn’t care usually,” You begin, glancing warily around the room, “But Dwight’s been kinda up my ass lately and I’ve heard how he harasses people when they’re late.” Pam sent you a sympathetic look, and you took this as the end of your conversation.
Your walk through the bullpen to the annexe was slower lately than before. It likely wasn’t noticed by anyone but you, but you didn’t feel the need to rush by without being seen anymore. Before, feeling the eyes of your coworkers on you created an itchy, crawling feeling across your skin. Now, you’re able to even look them in the eyes.
You smiled at Jim as you passed, his expression stuck in what seemed like one of concentration, directly at you. You tried to ignore the hurt pulsing through you when he didn’t smile back, only followed you with his eyes. You pushed into the break room, beginning your usual routine of filling the kettle for your morning tea. You opened the cabinets above the sink, then furrowed your brow, pushing a couple of mugs to the side. Where was your favourite cup?
You heard the door open, and you began to ask before even looking to see who it was. “Hey, you don’t happen to know where-” You pause, locking eyes with Jim. “Oh, hey.” He still wore that face of concentration, and he took long strides toward you until he stood close. You turn to face him, leaving the cupboards open, laughing awkwardly. “What’s up?”
Jim’s response was to reach forward toward your chest. He tugged, and you felt something around your neck pull and- oh right, your tie! You look down, feeling breathless for some reason as Jim begins to undo your terrible knot. He pulls it free from your shirt, smoothing it out against his chest. He lifted your collar, looping it around your neck, then paused as he held each end out.
“Watch,” Jim mumbled and waited for you to lower your eyes once more to his hands. He had some nice hands, actually. He began the process of knotting the tie, moving slowly as if trying to show you the proper way. You tried your best to take in the silent instructions, but his proximity was making you almost lightheaded. He finished, tightening it up close to your throat, then slowly folded your collar back down over top. He patted your shoulder, his look of concentration finally falling into his usual smile. “There we go, that’s much better.” You look up to face Jim and- wait, wow, had he always been that attractive? Was it getting hot in here?
“Thank you,” You stutter out, your eyes darting between his hazel eyes.
“Dwight has it, by the way.” You furrow your brows, confused. Just then, as if to remind you, the kettle began whistling next to you. You jump, switching the burner off and lifting the kettle from the source of heat to stop the high-pitched whining.
“My cup? Why?”
“Well…” Jim dragged the word out, wincing with a shrug. “Something happened to his mug. He said he grabbed a random one from the cupboard that he didn’t think belonged to anyone, but I recognized it.”
“And you didn’t say anything?”
“Oh I did,” Jim added, smirking and crossing his arms, leaning his hip against the counter. “I told him it was yours. He said you can have it back once he’s finished with his morning coffee.”
“Coffee?” You exclaim, shaking your head quickly, “No, that’s my tea mug! I actually bought that one specifically-” You cut yourself off from a rant that Jim didn’t deserve, groaning under your breath before pushing back into the bullpen. You walk directly behind Dwight, crossing your arms. “Give it back.”
Dwight spins in his office chair to face you dramatically, shooting you a look that only aggravated you further. “Give what back?”
“You know what.”
“Well, unfortunately, I’m in the middle of using it.” You narrow your eyes at him, though he doesn’t flinch. “I’ll return it to the cupboard once I’ve finished my coffee and washed it.”
“Then finish your coffee now, I’ll wash it myself.”
“Can’t do that,” Dwight said, shaking his head. “It’s not appropriate to rush through a cup of coffee. That could have disastrous effects on my body.” You sigh heavily, raising a hand to rub your face.
“Here, just hand it over and I can pour it into another mug-”
“So you can spike my drink? Absolutely not.” You roll your eyes, turning to move as you speak.
“Then I’ll just bring you a cup and you can-”
“Negative, there is no way I am transferring my coffee into a contaminated cup.” You halt your movement, locking your eyes with Jim before slowly turning around, narrowing your eyes at the infuriating man once more.
“How about this, Dwight.” You take a few steps closer, ducking your head down and lowering your voice. “Empty that cup now, or I’ll do it for you.”
“And how exactly do you propose-” Dwight’s annoying comeback was interrupted as he gasped loudly, standing in surprise. It was warranted, considering you had just poured the entirety of the mug onto his trousers. You tried your best to smother your smile, tilting your head with a fake-innocent tone to your voice.
“Oh! Dwight, I’m so sorry! I’m just so clumsy sometimes.” You turned, walking directly back to the breakroom. You heard the predictable ‘Michael!’ from behind but your eyes were locked on Jim, who looked astonished, his hand cupping his mouth that seemed to be hanging open. You couldn’t hold back your smirk anymore, pushing into the break room and heading directly for the sink. You heard Jim enter behind you, evident by his boisterous laugh once the door closed.
“Holy shit! You actually just did that!” You chuckle, turning the hot water on and reaching for the dish soap.
“Well, he’s just lucky I didn’t do worse. I’m very particular about my cups.”
The door opens again and Pam rushes in, pulling the door closed behind her and dropping her jaw at you. You chuckle nervously, shrugging, as she finally speaks up. “That. Was. Amazing!” She rushed forward, taking hold of your arm and shaking you. “I didn’t know you had it in you!”
“Yeah, neither did I,” You mumble, laughing a little less awkwardly as you glance from Pam to Jim. He was watching you with a softer smile now, and a curious look in his eye. You bring your attention back to your mug, rinsing it out before setting it on the drying rack. You put the kettle back on the burner and grab a dish towel to dry your cup off with.
“Regardless, that was amazing, I have to agree with Beesly here.” Jim’s input, while mild, certainly cemented something solid in your chest. You nod slowly at him, letting your smile grow. “I like this new you,” He adds on, his voice quieting down, and you almost forget Pam is still standing next to you. “You’re a lot more confident. It’s-”
Jim was interrupted by the door opening again, spinning around to see who would be walking in next. It was safe to say none of you three expected to see Dwight walk in, carrying his pants in one hand and a hair dryer in the other. He paused on the threshold, wearing only tighty-whities on his legs, and he glared at you. After a few moments too long- though any amount of time is too long when looking at that- he resumed his walk, pushing himself into the men’s bathroom.
Jim puffed out his cheeks, then blew out his breath slowly, turning to look at you and Pam with wide eyes. Pam stood there shell-shocked, eyes so wide it was a wonder they didn’t pop out of her head. The kettle began to whistle, knocking a bit of sense into you finally to turn and lift it off of the burner.
“I could’ve gone my whole life without seeing that.”
4
“Holy hells,” You mumble under your breath, staring at your reflection in the mirror. Gently, you placed your hands against the black, stretched fabric across your chest. You actually felt flat. You felt up and down, tapping against your chest a few times before turning sideways, seeing how far your chest stuck out. Sure, this was your first binder, but it seemed to mould to you like a second skin. You were amazed to actually get the size right the first go around.
You couldn’t help the giddy giggle that bubbled up, raising a hand to cover your smile, more in astonishment than to hide it. Warmth filled your chest, and you couldn’t remember a time when you were so consistently happy than when you finally decided to start transitioning. Even just this moment, it could beat any other moment before this year began.
You finally moved to your closet, pulling your dress shirt off of its hanger and throwing it on. Buttoned up, you check yourself out again. Tucking in your shirt, a look at the mirror once more. You grab a tie- actually one that was gifted to you by Jim, ‘celebrating the new you,’ as if he could read your mind- and moved back to the mirror. You flipped the tie easily through the motions, having had time to practice a lot more since that first day. Your mind flashes back to the image of Jim’s hands so close to you, showing you how to do this properly, although you were more enamoured with how large and handsome they looked as they slowly flipped the fabric around.
Shaking yourself of these thoughts, and tightening your knot to complete your look, you take a step back and admire yourself in the mirror one last time before heading out the door. It was a sunny day, but a cool breeze kept the temperature at a nice level. You drove to work with the windows rolled down, then huffed when your hair kept flying into your face. At a red light, you pulled an old hair tie from somewhere in your car, attempting to grab your loose hair and pull it into a bun in the back. It had grown longer since you had last cut it, but even with the majority of your hair in a nice bun a few strands hung down on either side of your face, defeating the purpose.
You run a hand through your hair, pulling the stray strands to the top of your head before resuming your drive. You managed to snag a parking spot close to the door, and you walk into work with your briefcase and a smile. Pam greets you enthusiastically- having grown close since you’ve begun to open up- and your smile widens as you wave at her. Turning the corner, you smirk toward Jim standing behind Dwight’s desk, sliding something into his drawer. He had looked up at Pam’s voice calling a greeting toward you, and he seemed to fumble with whatever was in his hands as his eyes landed on you. You heard him curse under his breath, looking back to his task as you snicker and walk past, heading toward your daily ritual.
You were pouring the hot water into your mug when Jim finally walked in, smirk firmly in place. You raise your eyebrows at him, picking up the string of the teabag and dunking it a few times. “You seemed preoccupied earlier, Halpert. Planning something malicious?”
“Oh, nah, not malicious.” He leaned against the counter nearby you, unconsciously curling his body toward you, “Just a little practical joke. As I’m sure you know, Dwight just loves them.”
“Oh, I’ve heard,” You snicker, letting your teabag rest to turn and face Jim more directly. “Sometimes I wish I could sit in the bullpen just to watch your pranks. Seems a lot more entertaining than listening to Mr Decker complain about a missed delivery once again.”
Jim scrunches his nose in thought, then puffs out, “Phyllis?”
“Stanley,” You correct with a smirk, watching Jim’s face fall in defeat.
“Damn, thought I had that one.”
“And I complain about him often, Jim. How could you forget?”
“Who, Mr Decker or Stanley?”
“Stanley is actually a sweetheart,” You mention, turning to the cupboard to pull down another mug. “He just doesn’t have the tolerance to put up with bullshit.” Jim’s nose scrunched again, and you tried not to find it cute. It was a daunting task, so you distracted yourself instead, pouring from the pot of coffee on the counter into the new mug you brought down.
“But he’s constantly eyeballing me?”
“Jim, you prank Dwight like every other day. Of course the man is wary of you.” You stir in a couple of spoonfuls of sugar, adding a touch of dry creamer to it. You slide the coffee over toward Jim, reaching instead for the teabag in your cup to toss in the trash. Turning back to Jim, you open your mouth to continue when Jim suddenly reaches forward, taking hold of your tie.
“Isn’t this the one I gifted you like a week ago?”
You hesitate, caught off guard by the random question. His thumb glides against the fabric, silky smooth in his grip. You swallow roughly, mouth suddenly dry, and attempt to answer without croaking. “Yeah. Yes, it is.”
“Looks good on you,” Jim mumbles, and neither of you notices the door behind Jim flying open, Kelly rushing through and bumping directly into him. Like a domino effect, he’s knocked into you, and you’re knocked into the table behind you. As you all try to process what happened in such quick succession, one thing sticks out clearly. In an instinct to catch himself, Jim threw his hands out forward- and they were currently placed against your chest, your arms stuck behind you to catch yourself against the table.
Kelly’s apologies were as quick as she was, the door to the annexe already closing. You thought you heard her mumble something about a ‘fashion emergency’ but you weren’t exactly paying attention to that, with your current predicament. Jim finally realized where he was, springing backwards quickly and raising his hands up, fear coursing through his expression.
“Sorry, sorry, I’m-” He hesitates, confusion taking over his features as he glances down at your chest. Ok, now you were feeling self-conscious again, the tight fabric constricting your chest suddenly very noticeable once more. He seems to shake himself of it, raising his eyes quickly as if worried he’d be caught. “I’m sorry, Kelly kinda-”
“I know what happened Halpert,” You interrupt gently, a light laugh to your voice, “I was standing right here when she came barreling in.” It was quiet as you straightened up, turning to grab your tea and take a drink, something to occupy yourself with. Eventually, Jim’s amiable voice spoke up once more.
“And you have to sit in the annexe with her every day? Rough.” You laugh, having not expected him to say that. You didn’t know what you were expecting of him, to ask about your binder? Maybe he didn’t even notice it?
“Right next to her, yep. We share a cubicle wall.” Jim hisses in sympathy, and you laugh once more. “She’s really not that bad anymore, honestly. At least she’s stopped calling me ‘pretty.’” You take a sip from your tea, then pause midway through. Wait- did you really just say that? Your eyes shoot up to Jim, watching his own eyes flicker between your face and your chest, then back again. You slowly lower your mug to the counter, finding it hard to swallow.
“Well,” He mumbles, taking a step closer to look you more directly in the eyes, “She was right that you’re attractive. Though, I’d use a different descriptor.” You were finding it difficult to find your breath in so close proximity, eyes widening as you look up at Jim.
“Like what?”
“Gorgeous,” He hesitates, biting his lip before adding, “Handsome.”
5
You were smiling at yourself in the mirror. You didn’t feel silly, or childish in doing so. You were smiling because you were happy with your appearance.
This past weekend contained the scheduled barber’s appointment you had made through Jim’s connection. Your hair was finally short. It wasn’t tickling your neck or draping in some sort of feminine way. Going in, you were unsure exactly what style of haircut you would want, but after perusing some magazines, and a suggestion from the barber himself, you ended up with a fantastic cut that showed off the line of your jaw and cheekbones. Where once your hair had curtained your face and hid you from the world- or was pulled back to forget you even had it- now you finally felt free and willing to face the trials ahead of you.
You were giddy going to work for once. Let them look at you, you weren’t hiding yourself any longer. You didn’t need to anymore. You spot Jim leaning against the receptionist’s desk and pushed through the glass doors with a wide grin, just in time to hear the tail-end of Jim’s thought.
“He just keeps getting more and more handsome, Pam, I don’t know what to do.”
“Who does?” You ask, popping up right next to Jim and waving down to Pam. Jim jumped, eyes widening as he turned toward you, then widening further as his eyes scanned the top of your head. You grinned down toward Pam, who wore a mischievous smirk. “Is it Dwight? I bet it’s Dwight.”
“Y/N! How, uh-” Jim stutters, eyes falling away from your new hairstyle, “How much of that-”
“Yes,” Pam interrupts a bit loudly, and you turn to her with your constant grin, “It was absolutely Dwight. Jim thinks Dwight is incredibly handsome and doesn’t know what to do about it.” Right after Pam finishes, a new voice joins in.
“Of course he does,” You jump, turning to watch Dwight walk directly to his desk, not sparing the three of you a glance, “I am the peak male form, everyone should be jealous of me.” Jim glares daggers at Pam, but you laugh along, too giddy to let Dwight ruin your mood. No one bothers to correct Dwight and he begins to unpack his suitcase.
“Well, anyway, a mug of tea is calling my name.”
“Wait, Y/N,” Pam calls out, and you retrace the one step you took away to look back at her. “You’re staying after work for the party, right?” You tilt your head, unaware there was going to be a party, but you shrug.
“Yeah, sure. Why not?” Pam’s grin was blinding in its intensity, and she looks directly at Jim with raised eyebrows. You glance between the two of them, watching them practically communicate with each other just using their eyes. “Am I missing something here?”
“You just never used to stick around for any of the voluntary office shindigs,” Pam answers, shrugging. Jim places a hand on your shoulder with a warm smile.
“We’re just glad you’re opening up.”
“It’s practically inspiring, isn’t it Jim?” You watch the silent communication for another moment, a pang of something eerily similar to jealousy pang through your chest. Nope, you weren’t going to let something that ridiculous ruin your good mood.
“Oh, you hear that?” You place a hand to your ear, turning around to face them while walking backwards toward the kitchen. “It’s my mug calling out to me. Y/N! Save me from this dry and lonely existence! Don’t worry muggy, I’m coming!” You knew you were being silly, but as you hear Jim’s laughter following you, you couldn’t bring yourself to feel embarrassed about it.
The rest of your day, surprisingly, flew by. Jim came by to see you twice more throughout the day, claiming that his usual buddy (Pam) was otherwise occupied with the Party Planning Committee. He complimented your hairstyle, calling you handsome once again. You thanked him for the barber recommendation and you swore you heard him say, ‘I’ll need to thank him next time I see him,’ but that didn’t make any sense. Why would he thank his barber for giving you a haircut?
Before you knew it, you were shutting down your computer and grabbing your briefcase from the floor nearby. Bringing it out into the bullpen, you studied your coworkers. Half were already walking out the door- Stanley was the first to exit the building, you were sure- but there was a decent-sized crowd heading toward the conference room already. You couldn’t spot Jim- until he appeared right next to you.
“Jesus, Halpert!” You huff, shaking your head. “What were you doing, hiding beside the door?”
“Waiting for you,” Jim answers easily, an easy grin claiming his face. You hoped your cheeks weren’t as red as they were warm, turning away from him just in case. “Here, you can set that on my desk.”
He led you over to it, indicating a spot next to his own briefcase, and you couldn’t help the soft smile that crossed your face at the offer. Turning back to Jim, your smile grows when it seems like he’s about to say something to you- until he’s cut off by Pam’s voice in the conference room.
“Jim!” He chuckles, dropping his head in defeat, peering up at you through his eyelashes. Your heart stuttered in your chest at the sight, but he pulled away and went to go assist with whatever he was called over for.
Walking into the conference room, it was certainly decorated, but you still couldn’t tell the purpose of this party. You thought maybe it might be someone’s birthday, but with the cake on the table reading out ‘Happy Quinceanera’ you really couldn’t tell for sure. At least you were assured in the fact that if it really was a Quinceanera, for whatever reason, there’d be a lot more sombreros than there were. (Just knowing Michael would insist, even though you knew better.)
“You know, Y/N,” You turn around, empty plate in hand as you were about to grab a slice of the pink cake. “You’re really not going to attract a mate that way.” You furrow your brows, deciding just to abandon the empty plate to focus on whatever Dwight had going on right now.
“Excuse me?”
“Dressing so masculine. Cutting your hair so short.” He stuck out his fingers as he listed off points, his tone serious, “You’re never going to attract a decent man if you keep trying to look like one.”
“Maybe that was the point,” You mutter under your breath, scanning the room to make sure no one was paying too close attention to your conversation. The room was small though, and while their heads were turned, their ears were definitely perked. Your eyes met Jim and Pam across the room, Jim had just finished hanging whatever decoration Pam had called him over for.
“What, to repel a mate?”
“To look like a man.” You turn, locking eyes with Dwight, who mainly just seemed confused.
“Why would you ever want that? It’s not like you’re a guy.”
“Well, maybe I am! Did you ever think of that?”
You suck in a breath, realizing what you just admitted. Your eyes immediately shoot toward Jim and Pam, hoping beyond hope that they wouldn’t be sneering or disgusted. Instead, they were grinning. They seemed glad, maybe even proud. You quickly look back to Dwight. He was blinking rapidly as if processing this information. Suddenly, in a bout of quick movement, Dwight was leaving the room and plopping himself into his desk chair, turning his computer back on.
“Hey,” Jim’s voice calls gently, and you turn to see him and Pam now next to you instead of across the room. “That was really brave, what you did there. Probably not the way you wanted to come out, granted, but-”
“Did you know?” You didn’t know why you asked, but then again, neither of them had seemed surprised.
“Well,” Jim began, his eyes turning worried.
“We’d suspected,” Pam offered gently, smiling toward you. “Just know that this changes nothing between us, though.” You study Pam’s expression, finding nothing but sincerity. You turn to Jim, meeting his eyes fearfully. Jim’s worried expression softens into something consoling, and he reaches forward to rub your arm.
“You’re still you, Y/N. Although,” He begins a soft smile, ducking his head, “Your new confidence sure is sexy as hell.”
+1
You’ve been out at your work for a month now, and honestly? It was nowhere near as nerve-wracking as you thought it’d be. You didn’t regret it once. Michael was kept on a tight leash with the trans jokes, Oscar came over to congratulate you on coming out and thank you for being the second out queer person in the office, and you found out the reason Dwight had rushed away when you first came out was that he didn’t know that trans people existed and had spent an hour afterwards researching it. If Jim and Pam hadn’t been around, you would’ve sworn that Dwight was the most supportive of you.
However, Jim and Pam were around. They treated you the exact same, joked around with you and invited you in on their pranks. Jim continued his sincere compliments that were starting to sound more and more like flirting, and Pam was growing more playfully aggravated by the day, though refused to explain why. You wondered if you would ever hang out with them outside of work, though they never asked so you never brought it up.
You were so happy now, as well. Not just for your transition, which happened so smoothly and, thankfully, without ridicule. But on top of that, you had gained a confidence that bled into every area of your life- work, friends, even just walking through your local supermarket had you striding with your head held high. Then, gaining Jim and Pam as friends- perhaps even best friends, where at one point they were just coworkers, acquaintances at best? Probably the best part of it all. Although, there was one thing that still had your anxiety racing, and you had no clue how to handle it.
You were hopelessly in love with Jim Halpert.