DISCLAIMER: I don't own The Flash and Arrow

A.N.: Enjoy reading! ^_^

Oliver inwardly groaned, thinking he was subjected to a kind of punishment.

Torture seems more accurate.

It was an uneventful day until Barry Allen dropped by the Foundry wearing his Flash costume.

Did Oliver mention before that the suit has been distracting him ever since?

There was something about the form-fitting costume that hugged the younger man's body in the right places. Oliver couldn't quite take his eyes off that red leather covering Barry.

Barry is on the lean side, with a runner's physique that gave his arms some muscles that were not thick nor making him look thin either; a flat stomach coupled with abs that were hinted under the suit.

And that was only the upper body.

He has long legs, with thighs that looks strong enough for straddl—running, Christ, because that's what he basically do when he puts on that uniform.

Then there was Barry's backside.

Oliver Queen might be past his playboy phase, but it doesn't mean he can't appreciate assets when he sees one.

There seemed to be a lack of chairs at the moment that Barry decided to lean and hover instead on Felicity's work station. And, damn him, in the process his uniform bearing the strain of that backside of his.

It doesn't look as fleshy or rounded like that of a woman's, or toned like that of some men's, but there's a certain look of softness on it, not that large nor too small either.

Just the right size where Oliver thinks his hands could fit.

Barry's narrow waist seems to accentuate that backside of his more that Oliver would like nothing but to ran his hands on; from the broad shoulders, down the waist, then hips, and—

"Hey, Oliver!"

Oliver was snapped back from his thoughts by Barry himself, looking past his shoulder to greet him and meet his eyes without removing himself from his current position.

And, damn him again, that looks too sexy that it should be illegal.

"Hey," he greeted, clearing his throat when he found his voice hoarse. "You dropped by?"

"Yeah. Want Felicity to look up for the team on some confidential case files. If you don't mind?"

Felicity snorted. "Of course not. The Green Arrow is quite idle for the mean time, that's why Dig can have some family time, and then Oliver is stuck here, hovering over our asses."

Oliver knew it was metaphorical, but she did hit close to what he was doing.

"Not that I mean you're literally doing that. You checking on our asses. I know that's not what you're doing around here, but not that I mind you doing that—Oh, God—I mean, I'll shut up now."

When she went back to her task with pink ears, Barry gave the other man a fond grin.

"The vigilante is not so busy when there are no troublemakers around," Barry commented lightly.

"The criminals don't take holidays," Oliver said.

Barry seemed to agree. He thought for a moment, then a smirk that was uncharacteristic of him bloomed on that fine features (He has some cute cheekbones, Oliver decided) and turned fully in Oliver. "But like Felicity, I don't mind what you're doing."

And just like that, Barry sped away with the information he got from Felicity, leaving Oliver a bit dazed not from the sudden blur but on the implication of Barry's words.

He groaned inwardly for the second time.

Felicity caught up with the situation and gave him a serious look. "Wow, you do realize you have to ask him out at least for a coffee with that intense checking out?"

Oliver opened his mouth to speak, and closed it again.

Asking Barry out is actually a good idea, and was something he should have done before he even began fantasizing on broad daylight his hands all over the younger man.

Are you free on Friday? Lunch on me. – Oliver

Five minutes were yet to pass when a reply arrived.

Thought you'd never ask ;) – Barry

THE END