Author's Note: This was actually written a few months ago, spoilers through 5x13: Stress Relief.

--I--

It had been a long day at work. Not because of any work that he had to do, of course, but because Michael had insisted on having a three hour long meeting about the dangers of male pattern baldness. He didn't let anyone out until he had been completely reassured that his hair was perfect. That night, Oscar dreamt that everyone in the office but Andy Bernard was bald. He didn't even attempt to contemplate the meaning of that one.

--II--

Three months after he and Gil had broken up, Oscar ran into Gil and his new boyfriend at the supermarket. It was just the universe's usual way of mocking Oscar that Gil's new boyfriend was half his age and looked like he had just stepped out of a Calvin Klein ad. It wasn't fair. Oscar was better-looking than Gil. He made more money than Gil. He was the one that initiated the mutual break-up with Gil. Shouldn't he have been the first one to move on? Shouldn't he be the one dating random underwear models every other week? Oscar sighed. He wasn't one for casual dating. As sappy as it sounds, Oscar liked to be romanced. He used to dress up like Julia Roberts from Pretty Woman every Halloween and wait to be whisked away by his rich and charming Richard Gere. Usually though he just got whisked away by a horny Cher. Or a horny Marilyn Monroe. When he got home from the supermarket, he just shoved everything into the fridge and went straight to bed. For some reason, he had a dream that he was Audrey Hepburn in a Star Trek setting. It was weird. Then, he had a dream that Andy Bernard serenaded him with a rendition of "Por ti Volare." Michael really needs to get a better selection of films than Step Brothers for Movie Mondays.

--III--

He was drunk. He hadn't consumed that much alcohol since the first time he had slept with another man back in his college days. Bobby Gorken. That had been a good night. The parts he remembered of it, anyway. So the fact that he found himself thinking that Andy Bernard was kind of charming he chalked up to his blood alcohol level being in the danger zone. The fact that he found himself assessing Andy's body for how doable he was he chalked up to both alcohol and his complete shock at Angela refusing to sleep with the poor guy. Honestly, he wasn't so bad once you got to know him. Maybe it was just the alcohol talking, but Oscar thought he was a pretty decent guy. Andy tried to get Oscar laid. If that's not the intentions of a noble man, then he doesn't know what is. That night, Oscar stumbled to his bed, missing his pillows, not even bothering to change. He had a foggy dream where he might have possibly gotten laid by his wingman.

--IV--

When Angela kissed Andy in front of the whole office, Oscar felt his stomach lurch. He wasn't sure if it was out of disgust or jealousy. He chose to believe it was disgust. He chose to stamp down the thoughts that ran through his head about Andy being sort of cute with his hair mussed up and that goofy grin on his face. He chose to ignore the dream he had that night that it was him on Andy's lap kissing him senseless in front of the whole office. And he chose to ignore the way that his stomach lurched again the next morning when Andy waved to him with that same stupid grin on his face from the day before.

--V--

For the first three days of Andy's first honeymoon, he called Oscar at least once during every single one of his activities. It's not that Oscar didn't like talking to him, he just wasn't getting any work done. And, if he was honest, the more Andy called him, the more he made Oscar wish that he was on those honeymoons with him, and those were thoughts that Oscar didn't want to have. So, on the third day, he and Andy had a fight and Andy vowed to leave him alone for the rest of his life. When Oscar hung up the phone, he felt empty inside. It was ridiculous. Andy was just a coworker, he shouldn't care that much. When 1:45 rolled around, Oscar sat staring at his phone, knowing that Andy was about to go on a hot air balloon ride. He couldn't imagine Andy containing his excitement over that, no matter how angry he was at Oscar. But the phone never rang. When 6:00 came, Oscar sat at his dinner table with the phone next to his plate. He waited. His food was getting cold, but he knew that Andy didn't like eating dinner alone. He'd call. He would. At 6:15 Oscar sighed and dialed Andy's cell number. His voice was clipped when he answered it. Oscar froze, his heart pounding, and he could see Andy in his head sitting all alone in the hotel restaurant with his lips pursed and his eyes narrowed, his arms half-crossed. Finally, Oscar just uttered, "I'm sorry, Andy." There was a long pause on the other end of the line, and then he heard the grin in Andy's voice as he said, "Hey, no problemo, my beautiful bromigo," and he then proceeded to excitedly tell Oscar about his day as they ate their dinner together. That night, he dreamt that he and Andy made love in the basket of a hot air balloon as Andy caressed his face and whispered against his lips, "I love you, my beautiful bromigo." When Oscar woke up, he rolled his eyes at the sappiness of it all. God, Oscar really needed to get laid.