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Chapter Text

“Oscar.”

Five eighty-eight plus fifteen percent

“Oscar.”

Six forty-six twenty. Add the - 

“Oscar!” Angela shouted, breaking his concentration. Oscar looked up to see her holding out a stack of white envelopes with an annoyed expression on her face. 

“Angela, I was in the middle of something,” Oscar said, looking back at the sheet. Five eighty-eight plus fifteen percent is six forty-six… no six seventy-six twenty!

“Now you can be in the middle of something else.” She shook the envelopes in his direction again. “Paychecks for the warehouse. I need you to drop them off.”

“Sorry, why can’t they come up and get them?” Oscar asked, dropping his pen down on the desk, already knowing this was going to be an argument he wasn’t going to win.

“There was a large shipment that went out earlier. They’re all sweaty. Do you want the office to smell like sweaty men?”

“Don’t!” Angela and Oscar said to a giggling Kevin simultaneously. 

“I am working on a spreadsheet that you said was urgent. Can this wait?” Oscar asked, turning back to Angela.

“Sure.” Angela dropped the stack onto Oscar’s desk. “I’ll call Darryl right now and tell him that Oscar has his paycheck and will bring it down whenever he feels like it.” Angela picked up the phone and hovered her index finger over the button that called down into the warehouse.

“Oh, man. I wouldn’t tell him that,” Kevin said with a serious shake of his head.

“Thanks, Kevin,” Oscar said with an eye roll and stood up to put on his coat that was hanging off the back of his chair. It had been freezing when he got to work a few hours ago, and he could only assume it was equally as cold in the warehouse. The last thing he wanted before the weekend was to catch a chill and be stuck in bed. He wasn’t as young as he liked to believe he was, and truthfully, getting sick only got worse with age. The last time he had a cold, he had to take three days off work, and Angela made sure her displeasure was known.

“You should be thanking me,” Angela said as Oscar grabbed the checks. “You were practically begging me to let you do this a few months ago.” 

Oscar didn’t respond to that and headed toward the stairs that led to the warehouse. Angela wasn’t wrong. He had insisted on this task two months ago, around Christmas, when he thought he had a chance with Matt in the warehouse. He made sure to avoid him and the warehouse in general as much as possible in the last two months so neither of them could relive the trainwreck of Pam’s attempts at getting them together. It was by far the most humiliating experience in all of his time at Dunder Mifflin, and considering who his boss was, that was really saying something.

“Keep comin’ back!” Oscar heard Darryl shout at whoever was driving the forklift as he stood at the top of the stairs. He glanced around the warehouse and let out a relieved breath when he didn’t immediately spot Matt. Hopefully, he was off on a delivery, and this would be a quick and painless task. Oscar headed down the stairs and cursed himself under his breath for not buttoning up his coat.

“Hi, sorry for the delay,” Oscar said, holding out the stack of paychecks. 

“That’s all of ‘em?” Darryl asked, holding his hand out. Oscar nodded and handed them over and then, with both hands free, quickly buttoned up his coat. 

“I don’t know how you can walk around in this weather with just a long-sleeved shirt on,” Oscar joked. 

“We move around a lot.” He shrugged as he looked through the envelopes for his own name. He looked up when he heard the sound of the forklift turning off and cupped his hand over his mouth. “Paycheck!” Darryl shouted. 

Oscar watched with dread as Matt stepped out, looking as attractive as he always did. He was slightly more buttoned up than everyone else, likely on account of having just come from outside.

“Heeeey.” Oscar waved to Matt awkwardly before sticking his cold hand back into his pocket. 

“Hey, Oscar,” Matt said, and Oscar couldn’t believe he actually remembered his name this time. Oscar cringed at how desperate he was for attention from an attractive man these days that something so simple as remembering his name was enough to please him.

“Matt,” Oscar responded with a head nod. Darryl looked between them and let out a small breath of amusement. 

“I’m gonna go hand these checks out. Oscar’s right, though; it’s pretty cold in here, and you’ve all been working really hard. Why don’t you go and get some coffee for everyone since you’re already bundled up? My treat.” Darryl pulled out some cash from his pocket and held it out to Matt, who took it with a smile.

“Sure,” He said to Darryl, and then, “Nice to see you again,” to Oscar and turned to walk away.

“Hold on,” Darryl said with a twinkle in his eye, and Oscar felt like whatever was coming, he wasn’t going to like it. “You should take Oscar with you to help carry everything.”

“Oh, no.” Oscar shook his head. “I really should be getting back upstairs. Lots of numbers to crunch.”

“You gonna let this poor man carry all that coffee on his own? Damn, Oscar. That’s cold.” Darryl looked at him with fake disapproval while Oscar just sputtered in response. He really wished that his New Year’s resolution was to grow a backbone instead of learning to make cheese. 

“No, of course I’ll help. I’m just going to call up to Angela really quickly to let her know,” Oscar pointed to the phone on a nearby desk and Darryl waved him off.

“I’ll take care of it. You’re doin’ me a favor after all,” Darryl said with amusement, and Oscar wished the ground would open up from underneath him and swallow him whole. 

“Ready?” Matt jogged over to them, pulling a grey beanie down over his hair to cover his perfectly symmetrical ears.

“Sure are, am. I sure am,” Oscar stammered. Ridiculous. He wasn’t that good-looking.

“Great,” Matt grinned and waved toward the open warehouse door for Oscar to follow him. Okay, that was a lie. He was ridiculously good-looking. And he even knew Oscar’s name 50% of the time. Oscar thought they were going to take Matt’s truck at first since it was so cold, but it appeared that he was set on walking. Oscar would’ve offered to take his Lexus, but he left his keys in his bag upstairs. Who knew? 

“Headed somewhere?” Oscar turned to face an upbeat but slightly confused-looking Andy Bernard. 

“Yes, we’re getting some coffee for the guys in the warehouse,” Oscar explained. 

“Oh. You know, we have coffee upstairs.” Andy looked over at Matt and then back at Oscar with a raised eyebrow. 

“The stuff around the corner is better,” Matt said to Andy like it was a secret. Maybe it was. Oscar certainly had never heard that before.

“Zuko’s?” Andy asked, and at Matt’s nod of affirmation, “Nice.” Andy bit his lip for a second, and Oscar was about to tell him to get on with it because he was too cold to just be standing around having whatever conversation this was.

“We should get going, Andy. You know what Angela’s like.” Andy nodded gravely. He knew what she was like more than anyone except maybe Dwight. 

“The faster we get there, the sooner we can both get back to work,” Matt nodded in the direction they were headed before Andy interrupted them.

“Right. Rightio!” He pointed at them and then looked back at the building before turning back to face them. “It’s like two blocks away, and it’s pretty cold out. I can drive you in my Prius if you want. I’ve got a ton of cup holders and heated seats…” Andy offered, pulling his keys out and shaking them enticingly. 

As much as Oscar liked looking at Matt and his stupid attractive face, the idea of heated seats on his frozen (very much going to be paying for this excursion later) back sounded heavenly. He opened his mouth to accept Andy’s offer, but Matt and his stupid attractive mouth beat him to it.

“Nah, man. A little fresh air never hurt anyone. Thanks, though, Anthony!” Matt said, with a face so genuine that Oscar couldn’t help but wince on Andy’s behalf. Not that he needed to because Andy winced on his own behalf. Turning around before it got any more awkward, Oscar took two large steps to catch up to Matt, and off they went. 

“The coffee machine in the warehouse has been on its last legs for the last month and a half.” Matt glanced over at Oscar after about a minute of silence, where Oscar tried and failed to think of something to say. 

“Oh?” Smooth.

“Yeah, Darryl tried to see if we could expense a new one, but the scary woman upstairs said no, so he asked Michael, and he said yes, so he bought it, and we’re just waiting on the new one to get here,” He explained. That sounded about right and exactly what every other person did in the office when Angela told them no. He wasn’t sure why anyone went to her in the first place. Everyone knew if you needed to expense something that wasn’t pre-approved, you had to go straight to Michael if you wanted any chance of getting any money back.

“Sorry about that,” Oscar apologized. “I review most of the expense reports and do the calculations, but she has to sign off for final approval. I do remember her grumbling about something earlier this week, so I’ll assume Darryl’s reimbursement went through, and you won’t have to walk to get coffee when it’s 15 degrees outside.”

“I don’t mind it.” Matt took in a deep breath, and Oscar could see from the lack of discomfort or shivering that he meant it. “Did you know in Scandinavian countries like Finland they leave the babies outside in the cold to nap? It’s supposed to be good for their immune systems.”

“Actually, Finland isn’t part of Scandinavia,” Oscar couldn’t help but point out. “I haven’t heard that about the babies, though. My Mexican family would never.” Oscar let out a laugh just thinking of the expression on his mother’s face if anyone suggested she do that with her own children. He was sure Matt was absolutely correct about the benefits, but he would personally rather nap in a comfortable bed covered in blankets with the fan on and heat blasting. 

“Why’s that?” He asked as they crossed the street. Oscar could now just make out the sign from the coffee shop that he’d somehow never noticed before. To be fair, the coffee upstairs was pretty decent, and when it wasn’t, Oscar would have tea instead. It didn’t make sense to him to stop for coffee when he could just as easily bring his own for home if he had to. This was not at all a reflection of his eyesight. 

“My mother was very protective of us when we were young. She lives a half hour away but still likes to call and check in to know where I am. When I was seven, my sister jokingly told her that someone had probably kidnapped me because I got out of school four minutes late. She punished my sister and made me stay in the house as well because she wanted to keep her eyes on me.” 

“That wasn’t a very nice thing of her to say,” Matt said with a frown, and he wasn’t wrong.

“She has always been a little bit of a troublemaker.”

“And you weren’t?”

“She majored in dance and philosophy, and I majored in accounting like my father,” Oscar explained. 

“Well, think of it this way: if you hadn’t majored in accounting, I’d be getting this coffee by myself.” Matt opened the door, and Oscar was glad for the cold because he felt his cheek reddened. That almost sounded like flirting.

Oscar let out a small noise of pleasure as the warmth of the coffee shop hit him. Something that quickly turned to a look of horrified dismay when he saw how packed the place was. 

“Angela is going to be furious,” Oscar said with a heavy sigh when he saw the length of the line. There were about six or seven people ahead of them, plus another five or so waiting for their order. Oscar had no idea how many coffees they were about to order themselves but imagined it would take longer than a minute to make. 

“While you’re late, you should order a warmed pastry. It’s really good.”

“How good?” Oscar lifted up on his toes to try and get a look at the display, but he had little luck.

“It’s no pâté, but great with a coffee.” 

“Ugh,” Oscar made a face. Of course he’d bring that up. “Please don’t remind me of Pam’s blatantly embarrassing meddling.”

“It was pretty bad,” Matt agreed.

“Did you really like the pâté or did Pam make that up?” Oscar didn’t think Matt was much of a pâté kind of a guy, but then he didn’t really know him as anything other than the hot guy who worked in the warehouse.

“Oh, no. I liked it. At first, I thought it was like bean dip or something.” Bean dip? “I never heard of pâté before and looked it up when I got home. I’m not sure I would’ve tried it if I knew what it was, but it tasted good. I wish I knew how to make fancy stuff like that.” 

“I took an extended vacation a few years ago and took a cooking class in France,” Oscar said. “Gil, my ex, said we needed more culture in our diets, so we took the class. Mine came out better, and he never said it directly, but I could tell it annoyed him.” Oscar shook his head in amusement. Had that really been three and a half years ago?  

“France? Wow.” Matt gave an impressed nod and moved up with the line. “I’ve always wanted to go to Europe.”

“You’ve never been?”

“Nah.” Matt shrugged.

“If you could go anywhere, where would you go?” 

“Italy,” Matt answered immediately. Oscar raised an eyebrow, and Matt looked away shyly. “This is a little embarrassing, but I remember watching the Lizzie McGuire movie with my little sister and thinking that Italy looked awesome. A couple of buddies and I were talking a few months ago about maybe celebrating our 10-year reunion in two years by taking a trip out there.”

Oh no. 

“College reunion?” Oscar asked hopefully.

“High School,” He clarified. Oscar cursed himself for being an excellent accountant because he was instantly able to do the math in his head. Matt was twenty-five years old. He’d had flings with much younger men before, but potentially dating one? That’s what it would’ve had to be. He couldn’t just have a fling with someone who worked in the same building. He’d seen enough of that in the last few years to know that unless you were in it for the long haul, it wasn’t worth it. Besides, he was just getting comfortable with the fact that it was okay to go to bed at 10 pm. He couldn’t imagine trying to relive his mid-twenties. Oscar felt suddenly freezing as he glanced at the door to see if someone had opened it and let the chill in, but no. The door was closed, like any possibility of doing anything with this man.  Oscar was thankful that it was now their turn at the register, which saved him from having to respond to this new revelation.

“... and for you?” Matt turned to Oscar expectantly.

“I’m fine,” Oscar waved him off. “I’ll just make some when we get back.”

“He’ll have,” Matt looked up at the board, “the Cocoa Mocha Late, but leave it out. That one’s my favorite.” He told Oscar and handed over the cash. Oscar whispered a thank you under his breath but didn’t have the heart to tell him that he didn’t like sweet coffees. 

“Name for the order?” The barista asked.

“Victor,” Oscar responded jokingly. Not being in on that, though, the woman wrote it down and handed Matt his change, which Oscar was pleased to note that he dropped all of it in the tip jar.

“Not my money,” Matt grinned, and Oscar had to stop himself from biting his lower lip over how good-looking this man was. Maybe a fling wouldn’t be that tragic. Sure, they had nothing in common, but who needed conversation these days? Oscar reasoned with himself as they headed toward the other end of the store to wait for their order.  “So…” Matt sat down at a table that just opened up and gestured for Oscar to take the seat in front of him. 

“Soooo…” Oscar repeated, but not nearly as suave. “Any big plans for the weekend?”

“I heard the weather’ll be nice,” Matt checked the time on his phone quickly before turning his attention back to Oscar. “Probably play some video games, maybe hit up a bar or something with the guys. You?”

“Same,” Oscar joked, and Matt laughed. “No, probably just a quiet night in with a bottle of Spanish red and a book. No big plans.” Great, he sounded like a 70-year-old widower.

“Oh,” Matt frowned, and Oscar tried, and probably failed, to hide the offended look from appearing on his face. There was nothing wrong with spending the night in. Okay, so tomorrow was Valentine’s Day. But it’s not like Matt’s plans were that great, either.

“What’s wrong with that?” Oscar asked, and Matt’s eyes widened.

“Nothing, I just figured you’d be doing something a bit more romantic, but then I don’t know how long you’ve been together. Hell, if you were single, I’d have asked you to go out for drinks.” Oscar stared at Matt with a baffled expression on his face.

“Sorry, I have no idea what you’re talking about. How long who has been together? I’m single. I’m very single.” Oscar stressed the last word, and Matt looked equally confused. Oh good. At least there was one expression that didn’t look good on him.

“Oh. I just assumed… The guy with the Prius. I was getting a vibe that you two wereeee,” Matt made some leading motions with his hands, hoping Oscar would pick up what he was putting down, and oh my god, did he.

“Andy!?” Oscar said loudly. He winced and then leaned forward to repeat: “Andy Bernard? You thought I was dating Andy Bernard? That’s ridiculous. Sorry. That was rude,” Oscar rubbed his eyes with his hands. 

“I thought his name was Anthony?” Matt scrunched up his face, and either he was really bad with names, or he was kind of an idiot. Maybe both.

“Order for Victor,” the barista called out. They both quickly rose from their seats and headed to the counter where two coffees sat and not the several others that Oscar knew they ordered. “We’re a little understaffed today. It’ll be about ten more minutes for the to-go order. I’m sorry about that!” They said apologetically, and Oscar had no choice but to nod in understanding as Matt handed him a whipped cream monstrosity.

“It’s so good!” Matt assured him as he took a sip of an equally horrifying-looking blended drink. It was ten degrees out, and the man got an iced, blended sugar bomb. Oscar could never. He hid the look of distaste behind the mountain of whipped cream and chocolate drizzle and took a polite sip. It took everything in his entire body not to immediately gag. That one sip was sweet enough to make him set a mental reminder to have his blood sugar checked at his next appointment with his primary care doctor. 

“Good, right?” Matt said knowingly. He didn’t know shit. It was terrible. But Oscar could fake it with the best of them and just nodded.

“Mmhmm…” He said with a fake smile. Oscar glanced over at the counter and watched as the barista called out the name of another large take-out order. The coffees were all snuggly packed in a travel box with handles that, from a quick glance, Matt was easily capable of carrying on his own. He was sure Darryl knew this when he sent him, and Oscar needed to make sure to remind him to never, ever, ever try to be his wingman ever again. Which also reminded him…

“There isn’t a vibe, by the way. Andy and I… no. We’re just coworkers,” Oscar explained firmly.

“Got it. He didn’t seem too thrilled about us going off alone to get coffee together,” Matt said in explanation for his initial assumption. 

“That’s just how he is. He likes to be included in everything. Trust me, there is nothing remotely romantic there. Plus, he’s painfully heterosexual.”

“Painfully heterosexual?” Matt let out a surprised laugh. 

“Yes. He’s so straight, in fact, that he designated himself as my ‘Wingman.’” Oscar put the disgusting coffee down to do air quotes.

“Your wingman? Like, trying to hook you up?”

“Exactly,” Oscar nodded. “We went on a work trip to Winnipeg a little over a year ago, and he spent the entire trip trying to set me up. It was a disaster.”

“Why was it a disaster?”

“He has the worst gaydar I’ve ever seen in my life,” Oscar said dramatically. “We were on our flight. I’m in the middle seat, and he’s sitting in the aisle. He decides that he isn’t going to rest until he gets me laid, his words. So what does he do? He leans over and asks the man sitting by the window if he’s gay.”

“Was he?”

“No! And the flight had only just taken off.” 

“Yikes.”

“Tell me about it. Then we’re having drinks at the bar of the hotel, right? He sees two men sitting nearby and not only does he think he’s going to hook me up with one of them. Oh, no. He tries to hook me up with both of them!”

“Really?” Matt looked like he couldn’t believe it, and ouch, but that wasn’t the point.

“Yes, really. He orders two drinks and, despite my telling him not to, walks straight up to two strange men and asks them if they think I’m hot and want to sleep with me. It was mortifying.”

“Sounds like a pretty bad trip,” Matt slurped through his straw, and Oscar was slightly disturbed to see that he had almost finished it. 

“It wasn’t so bad, actually.” Oscar looked down at the table and scratched at the wood with his fingernail. “We actually had a lot of laughs despite the constant references to ass,” Oscar looked up and held his hand out to stop Matt from speaking, “Don’t ask!”

“I won’t ask,” Matt agreed. “I’ll also take your word for it that he’s straight.”

“Oh, he is. We ended up getting pretty drunk that night, and I may have drunkenly suggested that he call his, well, now his ex -fiance and ask her about some… personal concerns he and I both raised about the happenings or not happenings of their relationship if you catch my meaning.” Oscar tried not to be a gossip most days, but it was really hard not to sometimes. He didn’t actually spell it out, but he was positive he didn’t need to. It was pretty obvious what he was implying. 

“I don’t. What did he say to her?” Matt asked. Okay, maybe not so obvious. 

“To-go for Victor,” the barista called out, and Oscar was glad for the interruption. It felt wrong to air out Andy’s dirty laundry. 

“Is Victor your middle name?” Matt asked as he grabbed the box and headed to the door. 

“Yes,” Oscar lied as he grabbed the door and opened it for Matt to walk through because, offended or not, his mother raised him to have manners. It also made it less awkward than saying, no, this is the name you called me after having an entire conversation at the Christmas party. 

“You forgot your drink,” Matt said, looking over Oscar’s shoulder to the mostly untouched coffee still sitting on the table.

“Ah, my mistake,” Oscar said in the worst acting of his life and did an awkward jog back to the table to grab the coffee. “This is pretty big; I might skip lunch.” Oscar followed Matt outside and took another sip. Bleh! It somehow tasted even sweeter now that it had cooled down. At least it was still warm enough to keep his hands from freezing.

“Did you bring something in, or were you planning on ordering?” Matt asked as he adjusted the box in his arms.

“I made some egg salad. Funny story, I made us, Andy and I,” Oscar clarified, “sandwiches on that same flight I mentioned, and he went on for a bit about how he had just the thing at home that would’ve taken what I considered an already perfectly made sandwich from good to great. So when we got back, he brought in this ‘secret ingredient’ and added it to the sandwich, and as much as it pained me to admit it, he was right. So now, every time I bring in egg salad, Andy makes this big show of taking this unlabeled shaker out of his desk and making sure I add it before anyone can see it. I don’t have the heart to tell him that I am fully aware that it’s Lawry’s salt.” Oscar was a man who knew his way around seasonings, but if Andy wanted to do something silly by pretending it was some kind of a secret, who was Oscar to stop him? 

“He seems like an interesting guy,” Matt stopped at the corner and hit the button for the crosswalk with his elbow.

“He can be a little much, but he usually has good intentions. Do you remember when he got a marching band for Erin’s Secret Santa?” Oscar laughed and shook his head. “It was ridiculous and over the top, but at least he’s not boring.”

“I didn’t realize that was the same guy. How do you hire a marching band anyway?”

“It didn’t really go the way he wanted,” Oscar continued, unintentionally ignoring Matt’s question to finish his own train of thought. “There was this whole debacle with the birds and Michael outing him as having done it; you were there, I’m sure you remember.”

“Sort of?”

“I told him if he was ever my Secret Santa to never, ever even think of getting me anything to do with animals. Unless it was a gift for my dog Gerald.”

“I’m allergic to dogs. It’s funny this one time-”

“Gerald is a great dog. I brought him in to work one day when I knew Angela was going to be out, and Andy said, ‘Take it from one Dog to another; this is a fantastic dog!’ He calls himself Nard Dog,” Oscar glanced at Matt briefly to explain, “That’s his nickname because his last name is Bernard, I guess. I’m not sure if someone gave him the name or he gave it to himself, probably the latter back in Cornell.”

“Cornell?”

“That’s where he went to college. It’s practically his entire personality, at least in the earlier days of him coming to Scranton.” Oscar stopped walking when he noticed Matt was no longer standing next to him.

“Sorry,” Oscar looked down awkwardly. “I’m talking a lot because my face is cold.” Let’s pretend the red on his face was from the cold, not the embarrassment of boring this man to death.

“Huh,” Matt said, and Oscar took a sip of his gross, now freezing melted whipped cream to keep himself from shouting “WHAT?” at him.

“This guy. Has he tried to hook you up outside of that trip to Toronto?”

“It was Winnipeg, actually.”

“Winnigpeg,” Matt rolled his eyes, and Oscar deserved it. 

“A few times at Poor Richards, but it’s gone pretty much as badly every time. One man was there with his wife, if you can believe that! Like I said, terrible gaydar.”

“Has he ever tried to get you to ask me out?” Matt asked curiously, and Oscar froze. He tried to think whether or not Andy had ever brought Matt up to him in conversation before and came up blank.

“No. He hasn’t,” Oscar confirmed.

“That’s a little weird, right? I understand having bad gaydar, but it’s not a secret that I’m openly gay.”

“Okaaay?” Oscar waited to see where he was going with this, and similar to Darryl making him go out in the first place, he wasn’t sure he was going to like this either. 

“He insists on being your wingman but tries to hook you up with what I can only assume are obviously straight men that he knows will not actually go out with you but hasn’t once attempted to set you up with the only other openly gay man in the building?”

“He. No.” Oscar tried to find the words, but they wouldn’t seem to come. The cold weather had taken over his brain, and he couldn’t think of a single response.  

“I work in the warehouse, but don’t need an accounting degree to do the math here,” Matt said with a raised eyebrow and continued walking. 

“I’ve known Andy for a few years now. I think I’d know if he was interested in men or me specifically.”

“Look, I was telling the truth earlier. I’d be interested in going out for drinks with you if you were interested. And I don’t want to say I know exactly what’s going on for sure between the two of you, but you spent most of this coffee run talking about this guy who almost definitely has a thing for you, too.”

“I don’t have a thing for him,” Oscar denied. That was insane. He had never once considered Andy in that way.

“I think you should at least talk to him. And if I’m wrong, I’ll happily take you out for that drink.”

“Dinner. You’re asking a lot here,” Oscar joked awkwardly.

“You got it,” Matt said as they made it back to the warehouse.

“Welcome back,” Darryl said, giving Matt a heavy pat on his shoulder. “Did you guys have a good time? Have a good conversation?”

“I have to go. I can feel the lasers in Angela’s eyes from here,” Oscar smiled and waved at both of them. “See you later.”

“See you,” Matt said and gave Oscar a look that said talk to him. And then mouthed the words ‘talk to him,’ so the look was really just overkill if he was being honest. Oscar headed up the stairs, two at a time, to get back to his desk before Angela sent out an angry mob to find him. He still had to finish that report, which wasn’t going to be easy, considering he now had Matt’s insane accusation in his head. He walked through the door to the bullpen and let out a sigh of relief to see that Angela was in a meeting with the Party Planning Committee to discuss what went wrong at the Valentine’s Day party earlier this week and likely hadn’t realized he was gone so long.

He headed to his desk and let out an annoyed groan when he realized he was still holding the coffee. He quickly removed his jacket and put it on the back of his chair in case Angela came back and headed to the kitchen to dump it.

“How was your coffee date? You were gone for a while,” Andy said suggestively, but his smile looked tight, which was… interesting.

“We got there, and it was packed, so it took a while for the order.” Oscar wasn’t sure why he left out the fact that it very obviously was not a date. 

“You make out in the bathroom? Let deux become uno?” Andy poked at Oscar with an empty spoon before using it to mix his tea.

“Yes, Andy. The loud coffee shop was filled with so much sexual tension that we had no choice but to ravish each other in a cramped bathroom stall.”

“That’s how I know you’re lying. Their bathrooms are all wheelchair accessible and fairly large.” 

“Yes, that’s definitely what gave it away,” Oscar shook his head with a small smile. He noticed Andy’s shoulders loosen, which was an odd thing for him to notice, but it was not like there was anyone else in the room to pay attention to. Andy flipped around so his back was against the counter and took a sip of his tea while Oscar grabbed his empty cup from the cabinet.

“Didn’t like the coffee?” Andy asked, and Oscar shivered.

“It was revolting,” Oscar said truthfully. “There is something to be said about a plain, black coffee with a splash of creamer.”

“I’ve only ever had tea from there, but you can’t really go wrong with throwing a tea bag into a cup of water, am I right?”

“I’ll remember that for next time.”

“Next time? You’ve got another coffee date planned already?” Andy asked, and Oscar wasn’t sure what possessed him to say the next words, but he couldn’t stop himself.

“No. But he asked me out to dinner tomorrow night.” Oscar lied. He was still sure he wasn’t interested in Andy, but a small part of him wanted to know if Matt was right. The twitch by Andy’s left eye was so brief that Oscar would have missed it completely had he not been looking directly at him. 

“Nice,” Andy said, taking what was probably a scalding sip of tea. “He must really like you if he’s taking you out on Vee Tee Dee.”

“Uh huh,” Oscar nodded and watched as Andy pushed away from the counter and headed toward the door.

“Well, I hope you have a good time, and fall in love, and drive off into the sunset on a forklift after your super awesome gay wedding. I can see if Here Comes Treble is available, but it’ll cost you. We’re very expensive, I'm not sure you'll be able to afford us.” 

“Andy, wait.” Oscar really didn’t want to mess with his head, but he couldn't just ask him about his sexual identity at work. Not when Kelly Kapoor had eyes and ears everywhere. 

“Hmm?”

“I had a small favor to ask. As my Wingman,” Oscar said with a serious expression.

“Yes,” Andy agreed immediately.

“You don’t even know what it is yet,” Oscar said with a frown.

“It looks like someone isn’t up to date on the Wingman handbook. When you’re called upon for Wingman duties, the answer is always yes. It’s the code.”

“Okay, well, Wingman or not, if you don’t want to do what I’m going to ask you, you are required to tell me no.”

“I didn’t write the code, Oscar!” Oscar stared at him while he slowly mixed his coffee. “Okay, fine. You tell me what you need, and I’ll tell you if I want to do it or not, which I probably will. I take being a Wingman super seriously, and also, I don’t really have much else going on tonight.”

“I was wondering if you’d be willing to do some groundwork for me,” Oscar said cryptically.

“What kind of groundwork?” Andy raised an eyebrow, intrigued. 

“Matt told me to pick the restaurant, and well, a meal can make or break a date.”

“Obviously.” Andy scoffed.

“There is this French restaurant just outside of Scranton that opened about a year ago. Le Petit Mensonge.” 

“Okay, did you want me to check out the Yelp reviews?” Andy asked.

“No,” Oscar shook his head. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been on an actual first date . Years. I want to make sure it goes well. Would you be willing, as my wingman, of course, to come to the restaurant with me tonight to try out the food and make sure I don’t make an idiot of myself?”

“Oh, I dunno, is Take 6 the most successful acapella group of all time?” Andy asked with a laugh.

“Yes?” Oscar answered hesitantly. 

“Yeah, their debut album won two Grammys, Oscar!” Andy said happily.

“So that’s a yes?” Oscar looked to him for confirmation.

“Of course it’s a yes. What time were you thinking?”

“I have to go home first to walk and feed Gerald, so around 7? 7:30?”

“Sounds like a plan, C-Span!” Andy confirmed. "Looks like you get to try out my heated seats after all!"

“That’s not necessary, Andy. I can meet you there. You don’t have to go out of your way.”

“I won’t hear of it. If Matt asked you out, and if he was a gentleman, he was probably going to pick you up. So if you want to keep those first-date disasters to a minimum, we’re gonna need to dry run the hell out of this.”

Oscar’s eyes widened in surprise. This wasn’t what he meant at all, but what was the harm in trying? Best case scenario, the food was delicious, and Oscar could finally cross this restaurant off his list. He’d wanted to try it for a while but had trouble finding someone to go with him. Worse case, they had nothing to talk about outside of work, and Matt was wrong about all of this. 

“Okay, let’s do that. I’ll text you my address,” Oscar agreed.

“I’ll pick you up at 7. Exactement!” He finished with an exaggerated French accent as he left the room and got an unexpected chuckle from Oscar. He was still pretty sure he wasn’t into him as anything other than a friend, but he could use this as a way to see if Matt was right about both of them. 

Oscar grabbed his sandwich out of the fridge and headed back to his seat, but not before stopping quickly at Andy’s desk to silently pull open the top slice of bread. Andy looked around to make sure no one was watching, pulled out a small shaker from his drawer, and sprinkled some of the red seasoning on top of his sandwich. Oscar gave him a thumbs up in gratitude as Andy preferred not to verbally draw attention to the exchange. 

Oscar put his coffee down and took a bite of his sandwich as he sat down at his desk. He quickly pulled his phone out of his coat, texting Andy his address. He shook his head in amusement at the quick response of: “Merci!” and got back to working on the spreadsheet again. 

Five eighty-eight plus fifteen percent…

Chapter Text

Oscar held one tie just below his neck, tilted his head in consideration, and then held up the other tie to compare. He was being ridiculous. This wasn’t a date, and despite Matt’s claim saying otherwise, he was not interested in Andy Bernard. He was interesting, for sure, but in the sense that he’d worked with him for a few years now, and he still had so many questions for and about him. Things that had been on his mind for years, but he’d never actually gotten around to asking. Like how does someone with an Ivy League education with access to his parents' money and connections end up working for a struggling paper company in Pennsylvania?  Maybe he’d ask him tonight. During their casual meal as coworkers. 

Oscar put both ties back on their hanger and thought about foregoing one altogether. It’s not like Andy was going to care what color tie he was wearing. It was a French restaurant. The lighting was probably going to be terrible anyway. He unbuttoned the top two buttons of his white shirt, glanced into the full-length mirror, and shook his head. These pants definitely required a tie. 

He glanced at the clock, and if Andy were going to be on time like Oscar suspected he would be, he had less than ten minutes to finish getting ready. He fed Gerald as soon as he got home and then struggled to get him to go outside for his evening walk, as was usually the case in the winter. Gerald hated the cold and wouldn’t go out unless Oscar dressed him fully in a sweater and some booties. He was in rare form that evening by taking twice as long as usual to do his business, and Oscar had been worried he wouldn’t have time to shower at all. Luckily, he had just enough time to shower and make his hair presentable before dealing with the issue of figuring out what the hell to wear. 

“Blue it is,” Oscar said aloud as he headed back into his walk-in closet. He paused on a pair of dark blue slacks that perfectly matched his blazer. He didn’t want to look like he just came home from work, removed his tie and called it a day. He was having dinner with Andy, who he was certain would be wearing something loud. Oscar didn’t want it to come off looking like Andy was out at a business dinner with his accountant. He is an accountant. But no one needed to know that. 

Deciding a little color never hurt, Oscar grabbed a pair of powder blue slacks and a black belt. He added the blazer and looked in the mirror one more time. He unbuttoned one last button and nodded his approval at his reflection. He looked nice, but not too nice. Definitely different enough from his usual attire that Andy would notice. That was the point of this whole thing, right? To see if Andy was interested in him like Matt insisted that he was. 

No sooner than he got his shoes on, Oscar’s doorbell rang. He glanced at the clock: 7 on the dot. With one last glance in the mirror, Oscar headed to the front door. 

“You be a good boy for me while I’m gone, okay?” Oscar said to curious Gerald, who was sitting comfortably in his doggy bed in the corner of the room. He opened the door, ready to tell Andy he needed a second to put on his coat, but was taken aback by Andy’s appearance. 

“Oh.” Oscar paused in his open doorway and stared. Andy was wearing a brown wool blazer that he’d never seen on him before. Under that was a dark red sweater over a light blue collared shirt. The light over his front door wasn’t strong enough for him to make out if Andy’s pants were corduroy or slacks, but whatever the material, they fit him very well. 

“Were you expecting someone else?” Andy laughed but looked slightly worried that maybe Oscar had forgotten and was actually waiting for someone else. Oscar tried not to flinch at being caught giving him a once-over, but he looked good. Sue him. 

“No, no. I guess it’s just been a long day. You look really nice,” Oscar said with a tinge of embarrassment.

“I’m just glad I’m not the only one not wearing a tie. I thought about it and tried on three or four different ones, but the reviews said this place wasn’t super fancy, so I figured I’d go a bit more caszh. You look great, though. Lovin’ the powder blue. It’s definitely your color.”

Before Oscar could respond to the compliment, Gerald took that moment of distraction to shoot out behind Oscar’s legs and run out the front door. Thankfully, Andy’s reflexes were faster than Gerald’s little legs, and he was able to scoop him up before he got very far.

“Be careful he doesn’t like people!” Oscar warned. 

“What do you mean? He’s a sweetheart. Aren’t you? You’re a sweet boy,” Andy said to Gerald in a cutesy voice that Oscar would’ve found obnoxious on Gil but somehow worked for Andy. Much to Oscar’s surprise, Gerald didn’t yap at Andy or bark like he did with most new people. Instead, he licked Andy’s hand and wagged his tail happily. Something Oscar had never seen him do with anyone other than himself. 

“I’m being rude, please come in.” Oscar moved aside to let Andy in the house. He hadn’t planned on that happening and quickly glanced around to make sure there weren’t any big messes anywhere. Much to his relief, the place was as immaculate as always. He watched in appreciation as Andy put Gerald down very gently on his doggy bed. Some people forgot that dogs were not like cats and that you couldn’t just let them hop out of your arms. Oscar shook his head at Gerald in disapproval. He couldn’t get him to go out of the house without two layers, and he just ran out the door when Andy showed up and fawned all over him? Traitor. Gerald huffed in response and spread out on his bed. He turned back to Andy, who tried not to make it obvious that he was scoping out Oscar’s apartment. 

“I’ve been here a little over a year,” Oscar explained. After his last decent raise, he’d sold his house for something a bit more modern and closer to downtown. While he missed having more space and a backyard for Gerald to run around in, this was much more aesthetically pleasing to his taste.

“It looks like you,” Andy observed, and Oscar wasn’t sure he wanted to know what that meant in Andy’s mind. 

“What’s that?” Oscar asked instead, looking at the red box in Andy’s left hand. 

“Oh!” Andy held it out to Oscar, who took it hesitantly. “Tomorrow’s Valentine’s Day, and I figured Matt was probably going to bring you chocolates, so I got you some. You might want to work on your surprised face for him because you looked like I was about to hand you a bomb,” Andy joked.

“This is very nice of you, Andy, but I don’t think he’s going to bring me chocolates.”

“If he’s a gentleman, he will!” Andy responded, scandalized. 

“I guess we’ll see. Matt doesn’t seem like the heart-shaped box of chocolate kind of guy.”

“It’s shaped like a football.” Andy pointed out, and huh, it was. He probably wasn’t wrong. This is likely the exact box of chocolates Matt would give him if he hadn’t made up the date altogether.

“It also looks like it’s been opened.” Oscar turned the box in his hands.

“Yeah, because the ones that came in the box are probably gross. I stopped at a chocolate shop on my way home from work, got some truffles, and swapped them out. I’d rather not have given you any chocolates at all than bad ones.” Oscar opened the box, and sure enough, there were a dozen truffles of various colors and flavors.

“Would you like one?” Oscar held the open box out to Andy.

“They’re yours. Besides, don’t want to ruin my appetite.” Oscar closed the box and nodded. That made sense. “Can I use your bathroom to wash my hands before we go?” Andy looked at him hopefully. He glanced at Gerald, and right, he licked his hand.

“Of course, just through there.” Oscar gestured in the direction of his bathroom. He waited until he heard the sound of the door close before he opened the box, popped a chocolate in his mouth and let out a pleased hum of appreciation. He then checked his reflection in a small mirror on the wall to make sure there was no chocolate residue on his lips. “Not a word!” He pointed at Gerald, who watched him with his usual judgmental expression. If anyone ever questioned whose dog he was, you’d just need to take one look at him and know. 

“Ready?” Andy asked as Oscar finished buttoning up his coat. “Your dog's name is Gerald, right?” He whispered to Oscar as if worried that Gerald would overhear him and be offended. He probably would, so that was a good move on Andy’s part.

“Yes,” Oscar confirmed.

“Good night, Gerald! It was nice to finally meet you!” Andy waved to the dog, whose tail started wagging like crazy. Unbelievable . Oscar shook his head and grabbed his keys. 

“Be good!” Oscar reminded him before shutting and locking his front door. “If I didn’t have a full-time job, I’d go to Florida for the winter like my mother,” Oscar said as he rubbed his hands together to keep them warm.

“A little fresh air never hurt anyone,” Andy said in a mock serious voice as he unlocked his car. Oscar let out a heavy breath in amusement at Andy, repeating Matt’s words from earlier in the day. He got in the passenger seat, pleased to see that Andy was right about the seatwarmers. 

“How long have you had him?” Andy asked as he pulled away in the direction of the restaurant. 

“Three years.” Oscar smiled, remembering the unexpected surprise of Gerald coming to live with him. “My brother-in-law had originally wanted him for the kids, but my sister is allergic. So after a lot of tears and begging, I agreed to take him.”

“Aw, Uncle Oscar is a big ‘ol softy, after all,” Andy teased. 

“Tell me about it.” Oscar shook his head. “I feel bad about leaving him alone while I’m at work, but my nephew David is going to school at the Univesity of Scranton, and he stops by to feed and walk him before his afternoon classes start.”

“He must love that.”

“They both love it as much as they both hate getting Gerald into his winter outfit.”

“Oh my God, Oscar, please tell me he has a big fluffy sweater!” Andy’s eyes widened with joy and Oscar couldn’t help but pull his phone out.

“He does.” Oscar scrolled through his photos trying to find the one he took the week prior. He found it just as Andy pulled into a parking spot. “Here,” Oscar leaned over so that Andy could see his phone. “Don’t let his expression fool you; this is his second favorite one. His first favorite is his raincoat.” Oscar went to that photo next, and Andy quickly reached out to grasp Oscar’s wrist to stop him from taking his phone away.

“Are those galoshes?” Andy asked in a voice that sounded like he may actually explode from how adorable the picture was. 

“Yup, Mhhh,” Oscar cleared his throat. “Yes, that’s exactly what those are. Look him a while to get used to it, but he loves them now.” Oscar also melted the second he saw Gerald in them, so he couldn’t blame him. Oscar glanced over at Andy to see that his attention was still on Oscar’s phone, along with his hand on his wrist. Not wanting to pull away abruptly, Oscar pressed the button twice to the photo of Gerald and David. 

“Is that your nephew?” Andy asked, and Oscar nodded. 

“He’s one of two people (well, three now, he supposed) that Gerald won’t start barking like crazy at on sight.” Oscar went to the next photo, which was just of David. “Isn’t he handsome?” Oscar beamed with pride. Andy nodded as he looked at the photo and glanced at Oscar quickly.

“He looks a lot like you,” Andy observed as he dropped Oscar’s wrist and turned off the car. “Hope you’re hungry because I amaffamé.”

Oscar nodded silently as he followed Andy out of the car and into the restaurant. He was right about the lighting. It was terrible in the way that most restaurants that tried for romantic ambiance were. 

“What’s with the lighting? We’re gonna need a flashlight to get to our ta-aaaaaaable for two?” Andy cut off his whispered remark to Oscar, his voice rising when the hostess appeared.

“Do you have a reservation?” She asked, and Oscar blinked. 

“Ummm,” Oscar looked at Andy quickly in a panic. It didn’t occur to him that they’d need one.

“Oui. Réservation pour Bernard!” Andy said in an exaggerated French accent. Oscar raised an eyebrow when she looked at the reservation list and smiled, telling them to follow her.

“Why do you have a reservation?” Oscar leaned over the table and asked Andy as soon as they were left alone. 

“I read the reviews, and a bunch of people said don’t sit by the kitchen door because the smells of other food could mess with the way your food tastes, so I wanted to make sure we had one far away. I didn’t know if you had a reservation and, if you did, where that table was, so I figured best to be cautious.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think we’d need one.” Oscar picked up his menu to give himself something else to concentrate on other than his embarrassment. 

“You should probably go talk to the hostess now about tomorrow.”

“Hmm?” Oscar asked as he read the list of appetizers.

“For your date tomorrow… with the warehouse guy. You might need to find somewhere else to go if they're booked up. Would be pretty funny, though, if the same people were working and they saw you bring two guys in here two nights in a row.” Oscar wanted to look up at Andy, who was rambling at this point, and tell him that there was no date with the warehou… with Matt. He could’ve told him that Matt assumed he and Andy were dating, and they both could have a laugh about it. What he couldn’t tell Andy, however, was that he actually wanted to go out to dinner with him tonight. No pressure or expectations for it to be anything other than what it was. Just to see if Matt was right. If the brief spark he felt between them back in Canada was just the product of too many Long Island Iced Teas or something else entirely.

“Yes, I guess I’ll just…” Oscar pointed at the hostess station and stood awkwardly, knocking into an empty chair behind him. “Excuse me,” Oscar said to the chair and then looked back at Andy, who was smiling at him. Oscar closed his eyes briefly and let out a heavy breath to get his head back on straight and then headed for the hostess station.

“Pardon,” Oscar said to get her attention, “Hello,” he looked down at her name tag, “Marie.” Oscar let out a small hmmf noise as he realized she shared the same name as that Concierge woman in Canada. Funny coincidence. 

“Is there a problem with your table, sir?” She asked.

“Oh, no. No, no. The table is perfect. Thank you. I was just wondering… if you… had the time?” Oscar cringed as he asked the question, having pointed to his watch in doing so. She raised an eyebrow, and he let out a short, forced laugh. She stared at him for a second before slowly leaning forward over the lectern and glancing at Oscar’s watch.

“It is seven thirty-two. Will that be all?” She looked up at Oscar and leaned back to her normal standing position. 

“Yes,” Oscar smiled, a blush covering his face. “Thank you, Marie. That’ll be all.” He ducked his head and headed back to the table in the biggest walk of shame since prom night senior year of high school when he pretended to be drunk and fell asleep on Evie Nelson’s laundry so he didn’t have to have sex with her. Oscar knocked into another chair as he approached the table, not bothering to apologize this time. Maybe he wasn’t the problem here? Maybe it was the chairs? And the lighting. And the way Andy was currently looking at him.

“Well? They able to fit you in?” Andy asked, rising up in his chair slightly while Oscar sat. Oscar pretended the little clench in his stomach was from the display with Marie and not the tiny gesture Andy just made. 

“Yup,” He lied, pulling his chair closer to the table. “Tomorrow at 8:30.” 

“Shweet,” Andy said, his enthusiasm not quite matching as he looked around the restaurant. Oscar shifted in his chair and looked back at the menu. Before he was able to ask Andy if he knew what he wanted to order, he was interrupted by a waiter.

“Bonjour. I am Remy; I will be your waiter for this evening. May I start you with something to drink?” Remy asked, giving Andy a once over that Oscar wasn’t a fan of at all. Who just openly leers at someone else's coworker like that?  He didn’t even know they were currently on a fake date that was secretly, maybe also an actual date. Did that make it worse? Probably. Actually, no, it definitely did. Where did he get off?

“Do you have any recommendations?” Andy asked before Oscar was able to give Remy a pointedly annoyed stare. 

“The de l'île de Paris is popular. Vodka, rum, Chambord, gin, triple sec, simple simple syrup, and cola.” Oscar shook his head. Absolutely not. He was not about to let the French version of a Long Island Iced Tea be his downfall tonight.

“I’ll try it,” Andy shrugged and went back to his menu. 

“I’ll stick with water for right now,” is what Oscar should have said. “Same,” Is what he actually said, clearing his throat.

“Parfait!” He said and walked away. 

“Oh, man. I could really go for a parfait.” Andy groaned. “I didn’t eat much today, so I’m hongry!”

“I didn’t eat anything outside of the sandwich earlier,” Oscar admitted.

“You had that insane coffee, too. That didn’t fill you up?” Andy teased.

“Hilarious,” Oscar rolled his eyes, but a smile broke out on his face anyway. “Have you figured out what you wanted? Did you want to share an entrée?”

“Sure. I was thinking about ordering the rillette,” Andy said but pronounced it rill-yet with a French accent. 

“That’s not how you say that,” Oscar laughed.

“Excusez-moi! I’ll have you know my French is, to borrow a word, parfait!” Andy looked at Oscar with fake insult. “It’s Rill-yet!

“Non! Comment tu dis… Re YEET!” Oscar said in his own attempt at a French accent. 

“Actually, it’s ree-YEHT!” Remy reappeared and placed their drinks down next to them. Oscar’s mouth closed with a snap. “Were you thinking of ordering the rillette?” He asked, once again emphasizing the correct pronunciation. Oscar mentally removed cash from his tip. He’d still give him the entire tip because he wasn’t a monster. But mentally... He’d just got a good 2% of it knocked off.

“Yeah, we’ll have that. And can we get two glasses of your driest red? A Pinot from Chasseurs de Lune, if you have it?” Andy asked. Remy smirked as if to say of course we have it. Oscar took off another 1%. 

“Very good. Anything else?  Have you decided on your entrée?” 

“We’re going to need another minute,” Oscar said with a fake smile and scrunch of his nose. 

“Of course,” He said, giving Oscar a forced smile, and walked away, presumably to put in their entrée or flirt with someone else’s date. Or not date. He still hadn’t decided. 

“Can you believe him?” Oscar leaned over to whisper to Andy, face full of annoyance. “Actually, it’s ree-YEHT!” Oscar mocked. “Where does he– what?” Oscar stopped mid-rant at the sound of Andy practically giggling in his seat. “What?” Oscar repeated.

“You, Oscar Martinez, got Actually’d!” Andy exclaimed with joy. I can’t believe I got to witness it. No one at work is going to believe this!”

“Very funny. I get it. I’m the worst.” Oscar shook his head and looked over in the direction Remy left.

“No, I think you’re great,” Andy said casually. Oscar looked at him, taken aback by the compliment. Andy wasn’t looking back, though. He was staring at the menu, squinting in the low light, and Oscar quickly moved to do the same.

“Wow, that’s strong!” Andy made a face at the cocktail he’d taken a sip of. Oscar glanced at his own drink with a slight sense of dream. He really didn’t want to get drunk, preferring to spend this evening with a clear head. Taking his own small sip, Oscar wrinkled his nose in distaste. 

“The Chambord was an… interesting choice here,” Oscar said, trying to be as polite as possible.

“This kind of tastes like cough syrup.” Andy stuck out his tongue briefly to make a yuck face before taking a sip of water. “I guess the only two places you can get a good iced tea these days are Long Island and the South.”  

“I don’t know, I remember you going through them like water in Winnipeg,” Oscar joked.

“Yeah, they were pretty good.” Andy smiled. “Shocked I was able to walk the next day.”

“Bad decision in a glass,” Oscar reminded him with a teasing eyebrow raise.

“I don’t know. I mean, the end of the night wasn’t great, but everything before that? I had a really great time hangin’ with you. We should’ve done that more.”

“Still could.” Oscar shrugged. “We’re doing it now,” He said and then quickly looked down at his menu, feeling stupid for some reason. “The chicken dish looks good.”

“I was thinking of getting the Fruits de Mer.” Andy pointed at his menu, and Oscar let out a small chuckle. “What? Bad choice?”

“No, I was just thinking that Matt probably would’ve thought it was actual fruit,” Oscar whispered, remembering that he thought Oscar’s pâté was bean dip. BEAN DIP!

“Is he not into French food?” Andy asked, confused about why Oscar would’ve chosen a French restaurant if that were the case. Oscar could’ve slapped himself in the face. 

“He’s half French, actually,” Oscar lied. “Doesn’t speak a word of it, though.”

“I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have French food with, so he’s in for a treat,” Andy said genuinely, and Oscar couldn’t keep it up any longer.

“Look, Andy, there’s something–”

“Here we are!” Damn it, Remy!

“Oh, that looks delish!” Andy said as Remy put the dish of rillette and two glasses of pinot on the table. 

“Are you ready to order your entrées?” He looked at Oscar, and the ‘now’ at the end of that sentence was clearly implied. 

“Yes, I’ll have the Fruits de Mer,” Andy decided.

“Excellent choice,” Remy said with a grin and looked over at Oscar.

“I’ll have the Poulet,”  Oscar said quickly, taking Andy’s menu and handing both of them to Remy, who was about to owe Oscar money at this point if he kept interrupting and flirting with Andy. Remy rushed off, and Oscar turned to look at Andy again, who had spread some of the rillette on a piece of toasted baguette. Oscar watched as he took a bit and chewed it carefully, trying to decide if it was any good or not.

“It smells better than it looks, but it’s pretty good,” Andy decided, licking a stray bit of crumb off his lip that had Oscar clutching at his own knife as it hovered over the plate.

“Oh?” Oscar asked as he spread some on his own slice of bread. 

“I’ve had better. Did you try that awesome Pâté de Canard at the Christmas party? I was thinking about it for an entire week after. I kept meaning to ask Pam where she got it.” Oscar stared at him in surprise.

“How’d you know it was Pâté de Canard ?” Oscar asked, and Andy scoffed. 

“Come on! The Cognac was kind of a dead giveaway. The pork belly mixed with the duck liver was a surprising touch. Probably the best pâté I’ve had in the United States. Did you get to try any?”

“I made it, actually.” Oscar felt his face heat over Andy’s praise, and suddenly, the awful lighting was a blessing. His friends always enjoyed his pâté. He’d tried a few different variations over the years, though he really felt like he nailed it this time around. But other than Pam’s excessive fake compliments, not having eaten any of it, he hadn’t gotten much feedback from his coworkers. 

“No way!” Andy’s eyes widened. Oscar nodded around a bite of rillette, and Andy was absolutely correct that it wasn’t as good as Oscar’s pâté. “I wouldn’t stop talking about it during a six-way call with Here Comes Treble the next day.”

“You really enjoyed it that much?” Oscar scratched at the tablecloth with the nail of his index finger, feeling strangely shy for some reason. 

“Uh, yeah! They hung up on me after like eight straight minutes of me talking about it. I didn’t know you could cook like that.”

“I took a class when I was in France. We did several types of charcuterie, but the pâté was my favorite part.”

“I apprenticed under a fromagerier in France during a study abroad when I was at Cornell!” Andy said excitedly. 

“I worked as a bartender to put myself through college. I would’ve loved to have studied abroad.” Oscar said wistfully.

“You know, Oscar. Between my cheese and musical talents and your pâté and drinks skills, we’d throw the cocktail party of the century.” Andy let out a sigh as he presumably imagined what that would be like. Oscar found that it was an easy scenario to picture.  

They picked at their appetizer, and Oscar used this brief bit of silence to really study Andy. He couldn’t have been more different than Matt. His face was not as chiseled and had more pronounced wrinkles, likely from the various ways he managed to contort his face most days. He briefly recalled telling Andy that he had kind eyes. The lighting was way too dim to really see them, but the softness in the way he looked at Oscar across the table told him that was still the case.  Unlike Matt, Andy didn’t have a stupidly perfect face. But it was a handsome one with character. Andy was interesting to look at. Oscar found he preferred interesting over perfect. 

“I got something on my face?” Andy asked, moving his napkin to his mouth.

“Yes, right here.” Oscar reached his hand out toward Andy in a brief moment of insanity before quickly moving to touch his own face at the corner of his mouth. 

“Thanks, Oscar.” Andy wiped at the nonexistent piece of food. “That would’ve been embarrassing.”

“Mmm,” Oscar hummed around another bite of food and almost choked when Andy reached his own hand out and touched Oscar’s face.

“Sorry,” Andy flushed and sat back down. “You had a little bit of crumb on your chin, and our waiter is a little bit weird and keeps looking over here soooo…”

“You noticed him flirting with you?” Oscar felt vindicated that it wasn’t just in his head.

“Yeah, who does that?” Andy shook his head with distaste. “Make sure he’s not your waiter tomorrow because your date’s gonna be, like, way hotter. Remy’ll probably try to sneak his number into his jambon-beurre!”

“That’s not true.” Oscar shook his head before he could stop himself.

“You’re right. I don’t think they have that here, but-”

“Matt is very good-looking, yes. But you’re not so bad yourself,” Oscar said in a light tone, hoping Andy wouldn’t read too much into it.

“Thanks,” Andy said, his expression exactly the same as the last time Oscar complimented him in Canada. “You know-”

“Andy, if you’re, once again , about to offer to have sex with me to satiate an unhealthy habit…” 

The sound of a throat clearing caused both men to jump. Remy stood near them with their plates, clearly having overheard the conversation.

“Fruits de Mer,” Remy said, putting the plate down in front of Andy without looking at him this time. “Poulet à la Provençal. Bon appétit.” He walked away from the table quickly, and Andy tried and failed to hold back a laugh.

“You saw him coming, didn’t you?” Andy asked with a grin.

“Maybe.” Oscar shrugged and cut into his chicken. He may have seen Remy walking with their food. He also may have had a slight bit of panic at the compliment that left his mouth without his brain's permission and used that as an opportunity to interrupt whatever it was Andy was actually going to say. Getting Remy to stop flirting with Andy was just a fun bonus. 

“Mmm,” Andy moaned, his eyes closing as he savored the first bite of his meal. 

“Good?” Oscar asked, shifting in his chair. 

“You gotta try this.” Andy scooped up a shrimp and some broth on his spoon and held it out to Oscar. Oscar looked back and forth between Andy and the spoon three times. If it were on a fork, he could’ve pulled it off with his fingers or transferred it to his own using a knife. Not as easily done when liquids were involved. He looked back into Andy’s expectant eyes one last time before leaning forward and taking the whole spoon into his mouth. He slowly dragged his mouth off it, chewing the fish slowly, then licking his lips to chase the flavor. 

“Mmm, you’re right. That is delicious.” Oscar opened his eyes and looked at Andy, who was staring back at him, wide-eyed, his spoon still hovering in the air between them. He realized, quite immediately, that Andy probably meant for him to take the spoon with his hand before eating it. 

“I- Yeah. It’s good. How’s yours?” Oscar wanted to kick himself. He’d clearly made him uncomfortable. Oscar cut a piece of chicken, added a few vegetables onto the small plate he’d used for the rillette, and handed it to Andy. 

“Smells good,” Oscar said, keeping his eyes down on his own plate as he took a bite and was relieved to find it just as delicious. He was worried when their appetizer was only okay that the rest of the meal was going to be disappointing. He was glad to be proven wrong after having waited so long to try this restaurant. The pleased hum Andy made as he presumably tried Oscar’s food told him that he agreed. 

“Mmhmm. Good choice,” Andy said. Oscar nodded and took a sip of his wine. “So you think he thinks I’m a prostitute?” Andy asked, and Oscar almost choked.

“What?” His eyes widened as he looked up into Andy’s amused face.

“Remy.” Andy glanced over Oscar’s shoulder briefly and was relieved to see that his stupid mouth hadn’t once again ruined what was turning out to be a fun evening. 

“Eh, he’ll probably think I was one if I showed up with another man tomorrow,” Oscar joked.

“If?” Andy asked, and Oscar silently cursed. Of course Andy would pick up on that.

“Lighting is pretty bad in here. Not sure if my eyes can take two nights in a row.”

“I’m sure the chairs’ll be glad to hear it,” Andy's voice was serious, but his smile gave him away.

“Don’t!” Oscar pointed at him, unsuccessfully holding back his own grin. 

“You’re right, though. You’ll want to pick somewhere with better lighting so you can stare into Warehouse Guy's dreamy eyes,” Andy said with whimsy.

“You know his name is Matt, Andy.” Andy shrugged one shoulder. 

“Are Matt’s eyes kind, too?” Oscar could’ve taken the question as part of his continued teasing, but the way Andy was moving around his food with his spoon told a different story. Matt was a nice guy, but Oscar barely knew him. In fact, he was struggling to remember what color his eyes even were. They were brown, right?  

“I hadn’t really noticed,” Oscar admitted. What he did notice, however, was the briefest upward tick of Andy’s lip that had Oscar wondering if Matt really was telling the truth after all about Andy’s interest in him. 

Though, if he was right about that. Maybe he was right about Oscar as well. If he was being completely honest with himself, this evening was showing him a different side of Andy that he’d only gotten brief glimpses of over the years. Oscar found Andy to be surprisingly charming and funny. Even more surprising, they had a lot in common. 

They chatted casually about work and their shared hobbies as they ate their food. Andy also enjoyed biking since it was a lot less dangerous than running. Oscar argued that either one could end him in the hospital if Michael were around. Having brought up Michael, the conversation quickly shifted to their Canada trip and how Andy was still convinced that the man on the plane was gay. 

“But the shirt!” Andy exclaimed. 

“Just because it was a pink shirt doesn’t make it gay, Andy,” Oscar argued back.

“It was an Eton dress shirt, Oscar. Trust me! I have it in both solid blue and houndstooth check. I know an elegant shirt when I see one.”

At the mention of Eton, Oscar changed the subject to his three-month trip to Europe on Dunder Mifflin’s dime. Andy apparently hadn’t heard the full story behind why he was gone so long, and Oscar was even more surprised to hear that Andy had originally sat at his desk while he was gone.

“I was new and trying to figure everyone out because that’s kinda my thing. I heard Angela and Kevin talk about you, but mostly in the way that Kevin kept messing up and Angela counting the days until you got back.”

“I’m surprised she missed me at all.” Oscar found it highly unlikely, and Andy was probably just being nice.

“I didn’t even know you, and I couldn’t wait for you to get back,” Andy said truthfully.

“What? Why?” He’d be lying if he said he didn’t get a little jolt in his chest at Andy’s words. Oscar tried to remember his first day back and was drawing a blank on any interactions he and Andy may have had that day. 

“You had this really adorable picture of Gerald hanging behind your monitor,” Andy recalled, and Oscar nodded. He loved that picture. “And I remember thinking that he looked like a really happy dog, which meant that you were probably a really good guy.”

“Wow,” Oscar said, feeling flattered that Andy had that opinion of him without having even met him.

“Plus, you like dogs , and I’m the Nard Dog , so I thought maybe you’d like me.” Andy shrugged, and Oscar could see that he hadn’t intended to tell him this, so he kept quiet while Andy finished. “I wasn’t really close with anyone outside of Karen and Tuna back then, and it would’ve been pretty sweet to have another friend at work.” Oscar thought back to afternoons in the breakroom when Andy would sit at the same table as him or near him during meetings in the conference room. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen it. 

“I’m sorry, Andy. I had no idea,” Oscar didn’t stop himself this time from reaching out and putting his hand over Andy’s, the tips of his fingers grazing his wrist briefly before pulling back to his side of the table. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m not that interesting.”

“Are you kidding me?” Andy looked at him, borderline offended. “You’re the smartest person I’ve ever met, and I went to Cornell!” 

“I may have heard that,” Oscar smiled at him. Andy tilted his head to the side and smiled back and oh no . That small jolt turned into a full-on clench. Oscar hid the sharp inhale behind a clearing of his throat as he took another sip of wine. 

“You wanna know what I missed the most about sitting at your desk?” Andy leaned forward, and Oscar had seen that expression before. Directed at him even. Only this time, there weren’t six Long Island Iced Teas to blame for it. 

“Unlimited access to Kevin’s candy jar?” Oscar joked. Andy shook his head, and Oscar watched as Andy looked down at his napkin and made a show of unfolding it.

“I needed new notepads, and I asked Angela if we could order some. She said you had a bunch in your desk and used a key to unlock it.” Oscar wrinkled his nose at that information. He didn’t even know she had a spare key. However, now was clearly not the time to dwell on that.

“Right on top was a stack of notepads. I pulled them out, and underneath them, I found a really cute paper butterfly. It was awesome. I looked for an extra stapler a week later and found a little crane.” Oscar’s mouth opened a fraction in surprise. Should he have been annoyed at Andy snooping around in his desk? Absolutely. Was the reverence in Andy’s voice as he talked about Oscar’s origami enough to make him forget all about that? A hundred percent. “I wanted to show Karen, but I always put them back right away. Felt like a cool secret that only I knew.”

“I used to do it more openly before Angela started complaining that I was using company time for a children’s hobby.” Andy glanced up at him briefly before going back to his napkin.

“I ended up buying a book on the subject and practiced for a week when I heard you were coming back. The day before you came back, I finally got one just right and left it on your desk after they moved me. But it was gone the next morning. I think the cleaning crew must’ve thrown it away.”

Andy held out his napkin with both hands to Oscar. It was folded into the shape of a small boat. Oscar reached over and grabbed it gently from both ends, his fingers resting on top of Andy’s palms as he lifted it, trying to keep it together. 

“Why didn’t you ever mention this before?” Oscar asked curiously. He loved origami and would’ve loved even more to have someone to talk to about it. 

“Dunno,” Andy shrugged. “You came back, and that whole day was kind of a disaster, and then I punched that hole in the wall and went to anger management. By the time I got back to work, it felt like too long had passed for me to casually bring it up. Stopped making them after that, but I still remember how to make this one.” Andy pointed to the boat.

“This is really good, Andy.” Oscar ran his finger along the edges. “If you ever wanted to take it back up, I’d be happy to teach you.”

“Yeah?” Andy looked at him hopefully, and Oscar wanted to lift his own white flag and wave it in defeat. Matt was right. He was definitely into Andy.

“Absolutely,” Oscar nodded with a smile that turned to an eye roll when Remy appeared.

“Lovely hat,” He said, looking at the napkin. “How was everything?” He asked, taking their empty plates.

“Delicious,” Andy said, frowning still from the comment about his boat being a hat.

“Would you care for dessert? The special this evening is a Coeur a la Creme with a raspberry coulis.” 

“I’m a bit full, but that sounds kind of awesome. Did you want to share?” Andy looked at Oscar, who nodded. Why not. Who knew when he’d come back here again? “We’ll have one of those with two spoons.”

While Remy went to get their dessert, Oscar showed Andy how to make an easy swan with his own napkin, which took just enough time for the man to return with their dessert. It was a little too sweet for his tastes, but Andy really seemed to enjoy it. And Oscar really enjoyed Andy enjoying it so it worked out well for the both of them. 

In fact, he was so distracted by Andy licking a bit of raspberry coulis off the side of his mouth that he almost missed him grabbing for the check.

“No! I’m paying!” Oscar said firmly. 

“No way,” Andy shook his head.

“Andy, I invited you !” Oscar tried to reason with him, but Andy handed his credit card over to Remy before he was able to even suggest they go 50/50.

“If the wa…Matt… asked you out, that means he’s going to pay. So I am paying and I won’t hear another word about it.”

Oscar felt like Andy’s words had just slapped him in his face. Had he read this all wrong, and Andy wasn’t actually into him? After all, he was a decent actor, and there was a good chance that he was just pretending so that Oscar would be comfortable on his fake date tomorrow. Andy, having noticed the distress that must’ve been all over Oscar’s face, added in what Oscar assumed was pity:

“If it doesn’t work out with that guy, then you can buy me dinner next time.” Oscar felt the dessert sitting like a rock in his stomach, knowing there wouldn’t be a next time. Especially not when he found out that Oscar had lied to him about having had plans with Matt in the first place. These things always had a way of coming out eventually.  He probably should tell him first. Maybe on the ride home. No need to make a scene in the restaurant.

“Ready to go?” Andy stood. Oscar glanced one last time at the boat Andy had made before following him out of the restaurant and to his car.

Andy put on some music on the drive back, which Oscar was thankful for. Andy hummed along to some acoustic version of a song Oscar was too distracted to recall who the singer was. Regardless of Andy’s pretending to like him tonight, he could tell the man had a good time and put in a lot of effort. It would be a shame to tell him tonight and ruin that. He’d tell him on Monday. Hopefully before finding out from anyone else.

They pulled in front of Oscar’s house, and Oscar jumped at Andy’s loud exclamation of “Wait!” as he quickly got out of the car and opened the door for them.

“Matt is not going to open the door for me, Andy,” Oscar said with full confidence. Who even does that any more?

“Okay, maybe not. But he should at least have manners enough to walk to you to your door,” Andy said and dramatically waved his arm in the direction of Oscar’s house. Oscar couldn’t help the laugh that punched painfully from his throat as he followed Andy to his front door.

“Merci pour cette… awesome evening!” Andy said as he held out his hand. Oscar took Andy’s hand in his and held his breath because he could’ve sworn, for just a brief second, Andy looked like he was considering kissing the back of his hand. He didn’t. Oscar refused to consider whether that would’ve been better or worse if he had. “If tomorrow is anything like tonight, he’s gonna have a great time.”

“Thank you, Andy.” Oscar let go of his hand and shoved it in his pocket so Andy couldn’t see him clench it. “You can be my Wingman anytime,” Oscar said in a terrible Val Kilmer impersonation, and Andy’s answering grin was bright enough to burn. After Canada, he may have immediately watched Top Gun. The movie was surprisingly homoerotic and unsurprisingly not to Oscar’s taste, but Andy’s happiness right now was worth ten terrible 80s films.

“B.S.,” Andy responded, “You can be mine.” Oscar looked down and shook his head to hide the heartbreak in his eyes even as he smiled. “Night, Oscar.”

“Good night, Andy,” Oscar raised his eyes and watched as Andy started to walk away, and then… he stopped. And then he turned. He was biting his lower lip, the playful expression that was on his face a moment ago now gone.

“Changed your mind about the bill? I have some cash on me if you want?” Oscar offered, confused by the abrupt change in Andy’s body language. 

“What if he tries to kiss you?” Andy blurted out the question.

“What?” Oscar’s eyes widened as Andy walked back to where Oscar was standing.

“At the end of the date,” Andy continued, “What if he had a really good time and he was like, wow, this guy is amazing, and fun, and super hot, and he would be kicking himself if he didn’t kiss you when he walked you to your door?”

“Oh,” Oscar looked into Andy’s eyes and saw hope and want. “I suppose, if that happened, I’d tell him that I had a really good time too, and I thought he was surprising and wonderful… and very attractive.” Oscar licked his lips, “and I’d be disappointed if he didn’t.”

Andy didn’t waste another second before closing the distance between them. He got a hint of raspberries on Andy’s tongue, and Oscar couldn’t remember the dessert tasting this good. Oscar pulled back to take in a breath, and his confession fought its way out on the exhale.

“I never had a date with Matt tomorrow. I made it up,” Oscar admitted. Andy opened his eyes and looked at Oscar silently. “He thought you and I were dating and told me that I should talk to you about that, and it spiraled a little, and I’m sorry I lied to you about it. I’m not going out on a date with him.”

“I know,” Andy whispered as he fought back a smile.

“You know?” Oscar shook his head in confusion. “How?”

“While you were on your super fun coffee date, I may have overheard the warehouse guys saying they were going to Atlantic City this weekend. And that since Matt and Darryl had the biggest trucks they were driving.”

Oscar leaned forward to rest his forehead on Andy’s shoulder, Andy’s laughter shaking him slightly. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Oscar said, pulling back to look at him in disbelief.

“I had no idea why you asked me out, but I wasn’t about to say no. I’ve been into you for a while now, and I was super jealous that you went out for coffee with him.” Maybe Matt was a lot smarter than Oscar gave him credit for. He owed the guy several sugar bomb coffees. Or maybe just a gift card and he could get his own, Oscar decided as he pulled Andy in for another kiss. 

“No offense, but I’m super stoked he’s not into you,” Andy said as he pulled away and quickly added off Oscar’s frown, “because if he was interested in you and wanted to fight me for you, I’d probably lose pretty badly. He’s a pretty big guy.”

“Funny, because I was just thinking that it was a good thing you were actually interested in me because I definitely couldn’t afford to send you on a three-month trip to Europe,” Oscar said, and Andy leaned in for one last kiss before reluctantly pulling away.

“Anything other secrets you’re keeping form me?” Andy asked jokingly. Actually…

“I know about the Lawry’s salt,” Oscar admitted, and Andy gasped.

“Noooo!” Andy threw his head back, and Oscar’s eyes traced the line of his throat and despite having been full from dinner, suddenly felt starving. “Really?” Andy looked almost disappointed. Like Oscar would stop asking for it, which was definitely not the case.

“I like having it be our secret thing, though,” Oscar said truthfully. “If that helps.” Apparently, it did because Andy kissed him again. 

“Have dinner with me tomorrow night,” Andy whispered against his lips.

“It’s Valentine’s Day,” Oscar reminded him, and Andy nodded.

“I want to go out again. On a real date, where we both know that’s what it is.”

“Only if I pay,” Oscar insisted. Andy looked like he was going to argue so Oscar had no choice but to throw his own words back at him. “You said that if things didn’t work out with Matt I’d buy you dinner. You can't take it back now.”

“See, I told you! You’re seriously the smartest guy I’ve ever met.” Andy took Oscar’s hand in his and kissed it this time. “Tomorrow? At eight?” Oscar nodded, and Andy backed away toward his car again, giving a small wave off to Oscar’s right. Oscar turned to see Gerald in the window, excitedly wagging his tail. He waited for Andy to pull away before going inside to greet Gerald, who he was happy to admit has always been an excellent judge of character. 

“I know,” Oscar said as he picked his dog up and scratched behind his ears. “I really like him, too.”

Oscar walked into his bedroom, putting Gerald down gently on his mattress, and went into his closet to plan out his outfit for their date. Oscar, remembering Andy’s comment about blue being his color, would end up wearing his nicest blue sweater. Andy chose a pink checkered houndstooth pattern. Andy was right. It was a very elegant shirt.