warning: this fic is about them having an affair, so if it's not up your alley, you should go now before you hate on me.

i was just reading up on katharine hepburn and spencer tracy like a month ago and i felt really inspired so i wanted to write something like that, you know? and personally, i hate people who cheat but i couldn't resist from this one time of dipping my hand in something completely out of my experience and write this.

and because no matter how much i hate arrow right now and how much i find oliver annoying most of the time, olicity is still my ultimate otp, god knows why.

Take my innocent hands and corrupt them.

-Michael Faudet

Entering his closet while fixing his cufflinks, Oliver browsed the array of ties he had bought and been gifted over the last two years, scanning the colors and materials until he saw one that he found appealing today. Upon finishing the fixture of his cufflinks, he reached out for a sage green silk tie and started tying it around his neck, only to curse when he couldn't get it right after two tries.

A pair of hands gently grasped his shoulders and turned him around. He sighed, a natural smile crossing his lips before he even knew it, and let go of the damn tie, allowing the pair of feminine hands to fix it for him. He gazed down, passing the top of her glasses, and willed the pair of intelligent and concentrated shamrock green eyes to meet his blue ones.

When she was finally done, she patted his chest a few times, letting it remain as she gazed up at him with a soft smile, her eyes dancing with joy and lust, her fingers stroking his chest slowly but surely. "You know I hate it when you wear this tie," she enunciated softly, sighing. "I don't even know why I even tied it for you."

The left tip of his lips creased with a barely there smirk. "Because I know how much you love it," he braved.

She mock glared at him and then lowered her eyes to stare at the aforementioned tie. "I remember when I gave it to you on your last birthday. You didn't let me leave for a whole day."

"It's not so much because of the tie rather than because you said you want to see me in green other than when I'm in my suit," he replied.

She laughed at that, snaking her arms up his chest with slow purpose. He sucked in a deep breath and when she met his eyes again, he could see that she knew exactly what she was doing to him. She wrapped a hand around his neck while cupping his cheek with her other hand. It was then that he felt the indentation of the band on her finger on his cheek.

He swallowed, a familiar twinge of displeasure clicking against his chest. "What time does he get back?"

It was a reminder – the golden band on her ring finger – a reminder that no matter how many nights they spent together, how many dinners he cooked for her, how many times she saved his life, that she didn't belong to him. She never would; she never could; he would never let her.

Ultimately, she was Felicity Smoak, CEO of Smoak Technologies, the voice of Oliver Queen's conscience, the backbone of Team Arrow, and wife of Samuel McLaren.

Her smile dimmed and her eyes dulled. He would do anything to put the light back in her eyes, and he was mad at himself that he was the one who took it away, but reality had to catch up to them sometime. "In the afternoon. I have to pick him up."

Oliver glanced over her head at the clock on the wall and clenched his jaw. "In the afternoon you mean around 2?"

She nodded, not following his gaze.

He huffed a sardonic laugh and looked back at her, leaning into her calming strokes on his cheek and closed his eyes, allowing himself a few seconds to relish in the moment. He could spend the rest of his life with her and it wouldn't be enough. It would never be enough, but this was the best he could get, if he wanted her safe and not left a possible widow in the future.

He kissed the top of her head, closing his eyes as he relayed the words stuck in his throat right now through that one touch.

I love you.

He hated events. He despised these functions. Socialites made it as if they would actually do the world some good if they dressed up in expensive Giorgio Armani's and wear exotic Hemera jewelry and attend to some ball or party where they drink twenty year old red wine and talk about taking more money from the poor, under the disguise of some charitable cause.

Oliver Queen of the old wouldn't have a give a crap about these things. He would see an invitation and toss them in the trash, defying the disapproving clucking of Felicity's tongue but obeying the favorable smirk that crossed her lips every time he did it. To be honest, that smirk on her face was half the reason why he tossed those invitations in the first place. It was a privilege to be able to put a smile on that woman's face.

However, Oliver Queen of the now was the mayor of Star City, and he had a responsibility to attend these events because he had to socialize and obtain feedback and gain traction with these people if he wished to proceed with the plans he had laid out for the good of city. He begrudgingly pulled on a tuxedo and prepared a bland speech and ended up here, standing in one of the skyscrapers of Star City with a glass of red wine in his hand, wishing that he could be out there in his suit and actually doing something to help the city.

He glanced at the red wine in his hand and briefly ruminated on how Felicity would have been appreciate – or depreciate – the liquid alcohol. He then looked up and browsed the faces of the attendees for the woman in question, stopping when he found her.

Felicity was clutching the forearm of her husband, making small talk with someone whom face he didn't bother placing a name on. Anyone would have thought she was genuinely interested in whatever conversation she was engaged in; what with the charming grin and the widened eyes. But he could see the way her lips were strained in impatience and her eyes were not shining as they should; she could hardly wait to get out of here.

"Save her before she throws herself out of a building or worse, kill that woman."

Oliver looked back to see John standing next to him. John cocked a knowing brow at him when Oliver pretended to look confused. He sighed, closing his eyes. John always was a man with sharp eyes, and there was also the fact that he had known Oliver and Felicity for seven years and he knew them best.

He nodded and took a second glass of wine from a passing waiter before maneuvering his way through the crowd, offering pleasantries in between, before reaching the married couple.

"Excuse me," he said politely, snatching their attention. He tried not to smile wider when he saw the relief clouding Felicity's face. He also tried to not to look at Samuel because he just…couldn't. "May I steal Miss Smoak for a moment? There's something I have to discuss with her."

"Oh, of course!" Samuel said brightly. "She's all yours."

Oliver allowed a mild twinge of guilt to pluck in his chest. The history between him and Felicity hadn't exactly been kept on the down low and anyone with eyes could easily see that they were bound to end up together when they were still a couple, if not for Oliver's fear of losing Felicity and Felicity getting tired of waiting for him again. And now, even when Samuel was the one who got to take her out in public and kiss her and be a doting husband to her, Felicity and Oliver were going behind his back and betraying his trust. Samuel's trust in Felicity and him was distinctively undeserved but Oliver just couldn't bring himself to feel guilty enough to stop this whole affair.

He offered his forearm after handing her the second glass of wine, leading her slowly towards the doors and out of the room, where they could spend time alone. They made sure to keep to themselves until they found themselves in a barren room with a few office equipment scattered around the space, where Oliver instantly pulled her into him, her back to his chest and him leaning back against the door. He lowered his head to breathe in the scent that he had missed so much over the last week.

She hummed and lifted a hand to stroke her fingers through his hair. "I miss you too," she whispered.

This was exactly why he found himself holding onto her even though he had already submitted into the reality of letting her go. This was exactly why he was risking ruining the marriage of the woman he was so enchanted with even after he told himself that he would stay out of her love life. This was exactly why he couldn't ever move on.

No one knew him like Felicity Smoak. No one could hear the anger in his voice just by hearing the minor hardening of his tone and the edginess of every enunciation of each word except her. No one could see the frustration gripping him just by seeing the tweaking of his brows and the rubbing together of his fingers except her. No one could see him and understand him like Felicity Smoak.

And he desperately needed someone who could do that.

"We can't stay long," she added.

He swallowed, loosening his arms around her so she could turn around and see him. He smiled in appreciation at the way the moonlight esteemed her facial features with pronunciation to the most distinct parts of her profile, casting in such light that she was mysterious and so enthralling at once.

"Then let's make the most of it," he whispered before swooping down to capture her lips.

As he pushed her back against the desk, one of his hands running up her thigh while the other encircled her waist, his hips between her knees and his lips on her neck, he pushed back the agony in his chest and the tightening in his stomach, determined to make the best out of the next fifteen minutes they would have each other before they had to go out to face the world again.

"Oliver, I'm married!"

Oliver pinched the bridge of his nose and nodded, his jaw locked tensely and his hands curled into snug fists. "I know you're married. How can I not when you're always splashed on tabloids and newspaper headlines naming you the sweetest couple in the city?"

Her eyes flashed dangerously and he knew he shouldn't have said that but they were in the heat of the moment and he wanted to make her feel guilty because he felt so stupid all the time for even telling her to go date other men in the first place. And she knew that; she knew exactly how stupid and regretful he felt ever since they started their affair not five months after her wedding but she never voiced it out loud.

Felicity pointed a menacing finger in his direction and snarled, "I married Samuel in the first place because you told me, quite clearly, that we were over." She took one step forward. "And look at me now, sneaking into your apartment to sleep with you when I have a husband at home waiting for me."

"Don't."

"Don't what?"

He swallowed, pinching his lips. He shook his head. "Don't make it sound so…callous. What we have, you and me, you know it's more than just sex." He ran his hands through his hair and groaned. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have…I was being a jealous asshole. I shouldn't stop you from going on this trip with him. It's your two-year anniversary and you should spend it…with your husband."

She stared at him for a moment before she scoffed with no mirth as she took off her glasses and rubbed at the edges of her eyes with her fingertips. Then she put them back on and when she looked back at him, all the animosity from before was gone, replaced by exhaustion and plea. "What do you want me to do, Oliver? Do you want me to divorce him? Because, trust me, Oliver, as much as it is shameful for me to say, I will. Just say the word. Say that you want to be with me like a proper man and ask me to divorce him."

Oliver gaped at him, overtaken by astonishment at her willingness to just give up her marriage for him. He had never seen her like this; she had never done this. In all the years that he had known her, she had been one of the strongest women he'd ever known and she had always stood her ground, strong with her principles.

However, to see her so defeated and so tired now, he realized that he was poison. He was ruining her, destroying her, simply because he was stubborn and he loved her.

"Felicity," he said.

She lunged herself at him with that one word, because she was Felicity Smoak and she was the only one who could hear what he meant with that one painful whisper of her name. They kissed desperately, devotedly, furiously, tenaciously.

"I love you," she whispered against his lips.

He lifted her and carried her to bed to let her know that he returned those sentiments, so much, with everything he had.

"He knows."

"Who?"

"Samuel."

"…You mean –"

"What – what's going to happen?"

"Nothing's going to happen."

"I don't understand."

"Oliver, he's not stupid. What we have is something that I could never have with him, and he knew that right from the start, even when he proposed to me. And he also knows that a divorce wouldn't do any of us – all three of us – any good. So…nothing's going to happen."

"Are you – So you're not breaking up with me?"

"…There's nothing to break up if we're not anything."

"…Okay."

"Okay."

It shouldn't be so surprising that a love as searing and painful as theirs would end with no pain at all; they deserved it after all that had happened.

They were on comms, all of them, even Samuel – who finally learned that Felicity hadn't exactly been a lawful CEO who was just very adept with computers when things got worse and Felicity dragged him down to the lair to keep him safe. All of them were sitting in the lair, the only protected space in Star City from the toxic gas that had been released, except for the pair, who had gone out to save the city and put the lair on lockdown so the rest of them couldn't follow.

Of course, that hadn't happen without Oliver protesting the loudest. And he thought he had won when he kissed her directly in front of Samuel without a care before he strode out, prepared to die. And then she, while everyone was busy calling their family and friends, sneaked out after him and locked the lair down.

And now, having successfully evacuated the city and eliminating the perpetrator who released the gas, they were apart, on both sides of the city, only connected through the comlink. They were too weak to go back to each other, having unable to disable the gas despite the perpetrator being gone. And they were both slowly dying from it.

As they sat at wherever they are, they allowed the one connected on comms to have a chance at listening to them, because they honestly didn't care anymore.

"I'm sorry, Felicity," he said, leaning back against a wall, his hood drawn back and his mask removed. If he was going to die, he might as well die as Oliver Queen.

It took her a moment. "Don't be. I'm actually glad that I'm out here with you."

"But I'm not with you."

"Yes, we are, Oliver." She chuckled softly. "We've always been with each other."

He smiled at that. "Yes, we have," he agreed.

"Do you think…where do you think we'll end up after all this?"

"Anywhere with you is fine, Felicity."

"I don't know." In that pause, he heard her taking more labored breaths. He was doing the same too. "I – I wouldn't mind some mint chocolate chip ice cream."

He laughed, coughing from the effort. He let out a quiet groan when his head spun as he leaned back against the wall and his grip on his quiver weakened even when he tried to grip it again. "I'm…I'm sure there would be."

"…Is it just me or…I don't think I'm seeing right."

He had four legs. "Felicity?" he whispered, scared and letting her know it.

"I'm here."

"I'm…"

"I know. But don't worry. It'll be over…soon."

"Okay."

"Oliver?" He couldn't see anything anymore. Everything was pitch black. Had he closed his eyes? He didn't know. He was so sleepy. "Do you remember that tradition before we go to bed?"

He couldn't help but smile. "You."

"What?"

"I love you…because you're you."

"God, Oliver Queen, a diehard romantic even when we're dying."

"Just for you."

"I love you because you're you too, despite everything." A moment later, she breathed, "I'm going to sleep now, Oliver."

His heart broke at that. He licked his lips and forced his tears back. He nodded, even though he knew she couldn't see him. "Okay." His exhale was shuddering. "I'll be with you soon."

When John and Thea found Oliver, he was smiling, a peaceful one at that, and he was looking up at the sky, clear and blue.

When Laurel and Roy found Felicity, her head was hanging but her fingers were wrapped around a ring, not her wedding ring, but the ring that Oliver had proposed to her with all those years ago.

Both of them had their arms stretched out on the concrete, as if they were reaching for each other, even when they were miles apart.

i'm sorry (not really) and please don't hate me. anyway, review and tell me what you think!