Getting All Your Bases Covered
Title: Getting All Your Bases Covered
Characters: Andy, Oscar, brief mention of Creed, Meredith, Kevin. Oscar/Andy.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: For episode 6x01, Gossip
Beta'd: By the lovely werkelijkheid90 and also some help from the little sister, smarmyelf
Summary: Andy thinks he's got it all figured out. Oscar disagrees.
A/N: C'moooon, after Gossip, how could I not? I expect to see more of these reaction/episode tags. Hopefully. But this is just my take on it. Also, this is my first foray into Office fanfiction. Lemme know how I did. :D
Excerpt:
Andy's brow furrows.
"It all seems waaaay too complicated."
"Not really. It's no different to feeling straight. Who you're attracted to is different, not the feeling of attraction itself. I think you're just making it too complicated."
"Oooo, touché, bro," Andy says. "You're like a... a gay Yoda, or something."
Oscar wonders why Andy seems to think Oscar is a sage of homosexual wisdom when he's really just a man who remained primarily closeted for the vast majority of his adult life.
"Soooo, Oscarino," Andy says as he sinks down to straddle a chair in the break room, "I was wondering if you could do me a solid."
Oscar spares him a glance before rubbing his forehead and refocusing on the book lying open on the table in front of him. Andy starts rocking back and forth on his heels, precariously tilting the chair. The look on his face has a striking resemblance to that of a ten year old who's finally grown tall enough to go on the big roller coaster. And they really don't want to go on the big roller coaster, but otherwise their older brother will call them all sorts of unreasonable names and give them a nasty Indian rug burn to remind them that they're a sissy.
Oscar really doesn't want to know what the favor is.
After a few moments of silence, another glance reveals that Andy's look is starting to morph towards that of a kicked puppy, and Oscar sighs heavily.
"What, Andy," Oscar states more than asks. The tightness in Andy's shoulders relaxes a fraction.
"See, the thing is, Michael said that there was only one true rumor," Andy begins. "And it's great that Tuna swam upstream for the big spawn and all, but then it turns out that that wasn't supposed to be the true rumor because Stanley destroyed Michael's car with a tire iron yesterday."
Oscar raises his eyebrows.
"And that got me thinking that Michael might be some kind of psychic," Andy pauses in his narration to make Twilight Zone-esque doo-dooing noises, "and predicted Pam's pregnancy, and since there was actually more than one true rumor, maybe there were more than two true rumors, and I mean, I like beef and I like cake but maybe I like a combination of the two, and I was just thinkin' that, well, since you're the most qualified... that maybe you could help me out."
Oscar attempts to follow the twisting logic and realizes that Andy still hasn't spit whatever it is out. Andy seems to be sizing him up. Oscar doesn't want to know even more than he didn't want to know before. But Andy just keeps staring at him...
"What, Andy."
"...Kiss me," Andy says, and instantly looks horrified.
Oscar imagines their expressions must be pretty similar at this point.
"What?! No!" Oscar chokes out. "How would that completely insane idea in any way be a help to anyone?"
"No, see, I was thinking. I know I like women," Andy rushes to add with a wince, "but maybe I need some kind of comparison, you know, and since you're gay and all, even if you've been not-so-helpful with the fabled gaydar's lack of ability to give me a definitive answer, maybe I've just got to test the hypothesis, and I just thought that-"
"You just thought that I would kiss you and you'd be like Sleeping Beauty waking up from the slumber of heterosexuality?" Oscar asks, more than a little annoyed. "It doesn't work like that, Andy. Kissing a guy isn't going to tell you anything if you can't figure it out for yourself in the first place, and quite frankly I'm a little insulted that I'm the first person who comes to your mind who you think you can use to satisfy your sexually insecure freak out."
Andy's eyes go wide.
"It's not like that!" he sputters.
Andy's brows are knit together in what looks like something between constipation and sincere apology, and Oscar deflates a little.
"Look, I know you're confused right now, but it's not fair of you to try to drag me into this. I can't help you," Oscar says.
Andy slumps with an air of profound depression, his chin drooping to rest on the back of the chair.
"Yeah, okay."
Oscar absolutely does not feel guilty in the slightest. He picks up his book and leaves Andy in the break room.
_______________________________
"How old were you when you knew you were a friend of Dorothy?" Andy asks him in a slightly creepy tone two days later.
Of course, Oscar was being completely stupid in thinking even for a second that they were done with this conversation.
"I really don't see how that's any of your business, and 'friend of Dorothy?'" Oscar asks.
"Slang for 'gay man' dating back to World War II," Andy says. "I've been doing some research on the interwebs. I got really good at research when I went to Cornell. My google skills are legion."
"...Good for you," Oscar says. He goes for the coffee pot, but Andy beats him to it and pours the coffee for him.
"I mean, how did you know?" Andy continues while he pours.
"I just knew, Andy, okay?"
"That's not very specific."
"Why should it have to be? It's different for everyone."
"But it still boils down to 'an enduring pattern of or disposition to experience sexual, affectional, or romantic attractions primarily to men,' right?" Andy asks, complete with air quotes.
"I suppose, but that still means different things to different people."
Andy's brow furrows.
"It all seems waaaay too complicated."
"Not really. It's no different to feeling straight. Who you're attracted to is different, not the feeling of attraction itself. I think you're just making it too complicated."
"Oooo, touché, bro," Andy says. "You're like a... a gay Yoda, or something."
Oscar wonders why Andy seems to think Oscar is a sage of homosexual wisdom when he's really just a man who remained primarily closeted for the vast majority of his adult life.
"Uh... thanks, I guess."
Andy grins and then looks a little cagey.
"It is kind of cutting into my 'me' time to be doing all this research, though..." Andy says. "It'd be easier if I could just get it out of the way. You sure the whole kissing thing is a bad idea?"
Oscar manages an inadvertent and strangled sound of exasperation around his swallow of coffee.
__________________________________________________
"What's the difference between sexual attraction and platonic admiration?" Andy asks at lunch. "Like, is it weird to think that someone looks nice if they're a dude?"
"I don't know what you mean," Oscar says.
"Consider the example:" Andy says, a finger held up for emphasis, "T-bone's tie isn't straight, and since we're performing in two minutes, I point it out to him and notice that he looks particularly fetching in the red blazer. Is that just me noticing the comparative looks of a friend or is that gay?"
Oscar bites back a sigh. The more he talks to Andy, the more he finds himself suppressing sighs, groans, and eye-rolls.
"I think it would depend. It's not necessarily gay to notice that a friend looks nice. If you're questioning why you noticed, then maybe that's an indication that you may have 'noticed' in the sense that you were attracted."
"And if you notice in the sense that you're attracted, that's gay?"
"Maybe. But I wouldn't say it makes you gay if you have the occasional impulse of attraction. Some people think sexuality is more like a spectrum."
"Kinsey," Andy says with a snap.
"Sure."
"Is there, like, a special way you know when a guy is interested?" Andy asks. "Like that time in Winnipeg; Is there a whole gay code and gay taboos when it comes to asking people out?"
"Why would there be?"
"Handkerchiefs." *
"...Sometimes I think certain people shouldn't be allowed access to wikipedia."
____________________________________
"Oscar, wait up!" Andy says, as he jogs toward Oscar's car in the parking lot.
Oscar huddles a little further into his jacket. Because it's cold out. Not because he's bracing himself. Andy holds a brightly-colored pamphlet out to Oscar when he catches up.
"What's this?" Oscar asks.
"It's a pamphlet about the local PFLAG group," Andy says, doing a little bounce on his toes. "I was thinking maybe you might be interested. I was gonna head to the meeting on Friday to gather some more in-for-may-shyown," the last word is pronounced in a ridiculously stressed French accent. "Wanna come with? Maybe you'd even be able to arrange a date with one of the scores of gay men who will no doubt be in attendance."
Oscar tosses his hands up in the air and begins muttering vehemently in Spanish. He opens the door to his car and gets in.
"I'll take that as a 'maybe', then?" Andy asks, voice muffled through the closed window.
"Goodnight, Andy," Oscar says firmly before starting his car.
_____________________________________
"I'm not trying to be weird about all of this, or anything," Andy says apropos nothing.
It's disturbing to Oscar that he has no trouble following Andy anyway. He slumps down a little further in the booth. Meredith, Kevin, and Creed are the only three left at Poor Richard's besides them. Meredith and Kevin are slumped at the bar, and Creed is lurking by the pinball machine for no discernible reason.
"It's just, you're the only person I could really ask," Andy continues.
"I know."
"It's awkward enough realizing that something you always wrote off as a coincidence might not be so much, especially when you're a young...ish... guy who's had a run of bad luck with romance in recent months."
"I know, Andy. It's okay."
They lapse into silence. Oscar takes a few pulls from his beer.
"...annnd you're still sure I shouldn't kiss a guy, just to test it out?" Andy asks awkwardly a couple minutes later.
Oscar prays for the patience necessary to endure the repetitive psychosis of a possibly-closeted, overgrown Wasp of a country club boy.
"Yes, I still think you shouldn't," Oscar says.
"...why not?"
"Because, Andy," Oscar snaps, his temper flaring, "it's not about the kissing, it's about the wanting to kiss! You can't do trial and error when it comes to attraction; either you are or you aren't! You're totally missing the point if you think you need a kiss to test your sexuality, because you should be able to tell before you ever kiss anyone in the firs-!"
And then Oscar's words are muffled even though his lips are still moving because they're moving against Andy's, because Andy is kissing him, and then Oscar's mouth goes slack in shock, and Andy takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss a bit, tongue sliding past Oscar's lips. Andy's hands are gripping Oscar's shoulders from when he pulled them together, and they're close enough that Oscar can feel Andy shaking a little bit, but his mouth is steady and confident, and really, it's not a bad kiss by any stretch of the imagination, and Oscar is so blaming the alcohol for the fact that his hands are fisted in the front of Andy's shirt, his eyes have dropped shut, and somewhere along the way he's started kissing Andy back.
It's fairly short as far as kisses go, lasting maybe ten seconds or so, and then Andy's pulling away, his cheeks flushed pink and his eyes a very bright blue. Oscar's gaping like a fish in an almost certainly unattractive way, not that he wants to be attractive to Andy or anything, and- oh, hell.
"Huh," Andy says. "Huh. I really wanted to kiss you."
Something like an indignant squawk catches in Oscar's vocal chords.
"I wouldn't mind doing it again," Andy says. The beginnings of one of those ridiculous grins quirks up around the edges of his lips. "It doesn't feel weird at all. Being gay is kind of cool!"
"You...you are unbelievable," Oscar says.
"And you're kind of cute," Andy says, like it's as much a surprise to him that he's saying it as it is to Oscar hearing it.
"I must be kind of an idiot," Oscar mutters.
"How come?" Andy asks.
Oscar doesn't answer, and Andy makes a happy little growl-purr type of noise in the back of his throat when Oscar kisses him again.
This is the worst idea ever.
He can freak out about it in the morning
___________________
* The little sis pointed out to me that everyone might not get the handkerchief reference. This is to what Andy is referring. :D
Characters: Andy, Oscar, brief mention of Creed, Meredith, Kevin. Oscar/Andy.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: For episode 6x01, Gossip
Beta'd: By the lovely werkelijkheid90 and also some help from the little sister, smarmyelf
Summary: Andy thinks he's got it all figured out. Oscar disagrees.
A/N: C'moooon, after Gossip, how could I not? I expect to see more of these reaction/episode tags. Hopefully. But this is just my take on it. Also, this is my first foray into Office fanfiction. Lemme know how I did. :D
Excerpt:
Andy's brow furrows.
"It all seems waaaay too complicated."
"Not really. It's no different to feeling straight. Who you're attracted to is different, not the feeling of attraction itself. I think you're just making it too complicated."
"Oooo, touché, bro," Andy says. "You're like a... a gay Yoda, or something."
Oscar wonders why Andy seems to think Oscar is a sage of homosexual wisdom when he's really just a man who remained primarily closeted for the vast majority of his adult life.
"Soooo, Oscarino," Andy says as he sinks down to straddle a chair in the break room, "I was wondering if you could do me a solid."
Oscar spares him a glance before rubbing his forehead and refocusing on the book lying open on the table in front of him. Andy starts rocking back and forth on his heels, precariously tilting the chair. The look on his face has a striking resemblance to that of a ten year old who's finally grown tall enough to go on the big roller coaster. And they really don't want to go on the big roller coaster, but otherwise their older brother will call them all sorts of unreasonable names and give them a nasty Indian rug burn to remind them that they're a sissy.
Oscar really doesn't want to know what the favor is.
After a few moments of silence, another glance reveals that Andy's look is starting to morph towards that of a kicked puppy, and Oscar sighs heavily.
"What, Andy," Oscar states more than asks. The tightness in Andy's shoulders relaxes a fraction.
"See, the thing is, Michael said that there was only one true rumor," Andy begins. "And it's great that Tuna swam upstream for the big spawn and all, but then it turns out that that wasn't supposed to be the true rumor because Stanley destroyed Michael's car with a tire iron yesterday."
Oscar raises his eyebrows.
"And that got me thinking that Michael might be some kind of psychic," Andy pauses in his narration to make Twilight Zone-esque doo-dooing noises, "and predicted Pam's pregnancy, and since there was actually more than one true rumor, maybe there were more than two true rumors, and I mean, I like beef and I like cake but maybe I like a combination of the two, and I was just thinkin' that, well, since you're the most qualified... that maybe you could help me out."
Oscar attempts to follow the twisting logic and realizes that Andy still hasn't spit whatever it is out. Andy seems to be sizing him up. Oscar doesn't want to know even more than he didn't want to know before. But Andy just keeps staring at him...
"What, Andy."
"...Kiss me," Andy says, and instantly looks horrified.
Oscar imagines their expressions must be pretty similar at this point.
"What?! No!" Oscar chokes out. "How would that completely insane idea in any way be a help to anyone?"
"No, see, I was thinking. I know I like women," Andy rushes to add with a wince, "but maybe I need some kind of comparison, you know, and since you're gay and all, even if you've been not-so-helpful with the fabled gaydar's lack of ability to give me a definitive answer, maybe I've just got to test the hypothesis, and I just thought that-"
"You just thought that I would kiss you and you'd be like Sleeping Beauty waking up from the slumber of heterosexuality?" Oscar asks, more than a little annoyed. "It doesn't work like that, Andy. Kissing a guy isn't going to tell you anything if you can't figure it out for yourself in the first place, and quite frankly I'm a little insulted that I'm the first person who comes to your mind who you think you can use to satisfy your sexually insecure freak out."
Andy's eyes go wide.
"It's not like that!" he sputters.
Andy's brows are knit together in what looks like something between constipation and sincere apology, and Oscar deflates a little.
"Look, I know you're confused right now, but it's not fair of you to try to drag me into this. I can't help you," Oscar says.
Andy slumps with an air of profound depression, his chin drooping to rest on the back of the chair.
"Yeah, okay."
Oscar absolutely does not feel guilty in the slightest. He picks up his book and leaves Andy in the break room.
_______________________________
"How old were you when you knew you were a friend of Dorothy?" Andy asks him in a slightly creepy tone two days later.
Of course, Oscar was being completely stupid in thinking even for a second that they were done with this conversation.
"I really don't see how that's any of your business, and 'friend of Dorothy?'" Oscar asks.
"Slang for 'gay man' dating back to World War II," Andy says. "I've been doing some research on the interwebs. I got really good at research when I went to Cornell. My google skills are legion."
"...Good for you," Oscar says. He goes for the coffee pot, but Andy beats him to it and pours the coffee for him.
"I mean, how did you know?" Andy continues while he pours.
"I just knew, Andy, okay?"
"That's not very specific."
"Why should it have to be? It's different for everyone."
"But it still boils down to 'an enduring pattern of or disposition to experience sexual, affectional, or romantic attractions primarily to men,' right?" Andy asks, complete with air quotes.
"I suppose, but that still means different things to different people."
Andy's brow furrows.
"It all seems waaaay too complicated."
"Not really. It's no different to feeling straight. Who you're attracted to is different, not the feeling of attraction itself. I think you're just making it too complicated."
"Oooo, touché, bro," Andy says. "You're like a... a gay Yoda, or something."
Oscar wonders why Andy seems to think Oscar is a sage of homosexual wisdom when he's really just a man who remained primarily closeted for the vast majority of his adult life.
"Uh... thanks, I guess."
Andy grins and then looks a little cagey.
"It is kind of cutting into my 'me' time to be doing all this research, though..." Andy says. "It'd be easier if I could just get it out of the way. You sure the whole kissing thing is a bad idea?"
Oscar manages an inadvertent and strangled sound of exasperation around his swallow of coffee.
__________________________________________________
"What's the difference between sexual attraction and platonic admiration?" Andy asks at lunch. "Like, is it weird to think that someone looks nice if they're a dude?"
"I don't know what you mean," Oscar says.
"Consider the example:" Andy says, a finger held up for emphasis, "T-bone's tie isn't straight, and since we're performing in two minutes, I point it out to him and notice that he looks particularly fetching in the red blazer. Is that just me noticing the comparative looks of a friend or is that gay?"
Oscar bites back a sigh. The more he talks to Andy, the more he finds himself suppressing sighs, groans, and eye-rolls.
"I think it would depend. It's not necessarily gay to notice that a friend looks nice. If you're questioning why you noticed, then maybe that's an indication that you may have 'noticed' in the sense that you were attracted."
"And if you notice in the sense that you're attracted, that's gay?"
"Maybe. But I wouldn't say it makes you gay if you have the occasional impulse of attraction. Some people think sexuality is more like a spectrum."
"Kinsey," Andy says with a snap.
"Sure."
"Is there, like, a special way you know when a guy is interested?" Andy asks. "Like that time in Winnipeg; Is there a whole gay code and gay taboos when it comes to asking people out?"
"Why would there be?"
"Handkerchiefs." *
"...Sometimes I think certain people shouldn't be allowed access to wikipedia."
____________________________________
"Oscar, wait up!" Andy says, as he jogs toward Oscar's car in the parking lot.
Oscar huddles a little further into his jacket. Because it's cold out. Not because he's bracing himself. Andy holds a brightly-colored pamphlet out to Oscar when he catches up.
"What's this?" Oscar asks.
"It's a pamphlet about the local PFLAG group," Andy says, doing a little bounce on his toes. "I was thinking maybe you might be interested. I was gonna head to the meeting on Friday to gather some more in-for-may-shyown," the last word is pronounced in a ridiculously stressed French accent. "Wanna come with? Maybe you'd even be able to arrange a date with one of the scores of gay men who will no doubt be in attendance."
Oscar tosses his hands up in the air and begins muttering vehemently in Spanish. He opens the door to his car and gets in.
"I'll take that as a 'maybe', then?" Andy asks, voice muffled through the closed window.
"Goodnight, Andy," Oscar says firmly before starting his car.
_____________________________________
"I'm not trying to be weird about all of this, or anything," Andy says apropos nothing.
It's disturbing to Oscar that he has no trouble following Andy anyway. He slumps down a little further in the booth. Meredith, Kevin, and Creed are the only three left at Poor Richard's besides them. Meredith and Kevin are slumped at the bar, and Creed is lurking by the pinball machine for no discernible reason.
"It's just, you're the only person I could really ask," Andy continues.
"I know."
"It's awkward enough realizing that something you always wrote off as a coincidence might not be so much, especially when you're a young...ish... guy who's had a run of bad luck with romance in recent months."
"I know, Andy. It's okay."
They lapse into silence. Oscar takes a few pulls from his beer.
"...annnd you're still sure I shouldn't kiss a guy, just to test it out?" Andy asks awkwardly a couple minutes later.
Oscar prays for the patience necessary to endure the repetitive psychosis of a possibly-closeted, overgrown Wasp of a country club boy.
"Yes, I still think you shouldn't," Oscar says.
"...why not?"
"Because, Andy," Oscar snaps, his temper flaring, "it's not about the kissing, it's about the wanting to kiss! You can't do trial and error when it comes to attraction; either you are or you aren't! You're totally missing the point if you think you need a kiss to test your sexuality, because you should be able to tell before you ever kiss anyone in the firs-!"
And then Oscar's words are muffled even though his lips are still moving because they're moving against Andy's, because Andy is kissing him, and then Oscar's mouth goes slack in shock, and Andy takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss a bit, tongue sliding past Oscar's lips. Andy's hands are gripping Oscar's shoulders from when he pulled them together, and they're close enough that Oscar can feel Andy shaking a little bit, but his mouth is steady and confident, and really, it's not a bad kiss by any stretch of the imagination, and Oscar is so blaming the alcohol for the fact that his hands are fisted in the front of Andy's shirt, his eyes have dropped shut, and somewhere along the way he's started kissing Andy back.
It's fairly short as far as kisses go, lasting maybe ten seconds or so, and then Andy's pulling away, his cheeks flushed pink and his eyes a very bright blue. Oscar's gaping like a fish in an almost certainly unattractive way, not that he wants to be attractive to Andy or anything, and- oh, hell.
"Huh," Andy says. "Huh. I really wanted to kiss you."
Something like an indignant squawk catches in Oscar's vocal chords.
"I wouldn't mind doing it again," Andy says. The beginnings of one of those ridiculous grins quirks up around the edges of his lips. "It doesn't feel weird at all. Being gay is kind of cool!"
"You...you are unbelievable," Oscar says.
"And you're kind of cute," Andy says, like it's as much a surprise to him that he's saying it as it is to Oscar hearing it.
"I must be kind of an idiot," Oscar mutters.
"How come?" Andy asks.
Oscar doesn't answer, and Andy makes a happy little growl-purr type of noise in the back of his throat when Oscar kisses him again.
This is the worst idea ever.
He can freak out about it in the morning
___________________
* The little sis pointed out to me that everyone might not get the handkerchief reference. This is to what Andy is referring. :D