TITLE: Morning after

CHARACTERS: Oliver Queen, Felicity Smoak

SUMMARY: The morning after Oliver and Felicity sleep together for the first time.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Inspired by a Tumblr gifset

DISCLAIMER: Oliver Queen and company belong to DC Comics.

She sat on the edge of the bed, one foot on the floor, the other tucked under her. Part of her wanted to leave now and begin her walk of shame while no one was up yet to see it. She could do it, just quietly pick up her clothes, hide in the bathroom to change and then tiptoe out of the room. She'll have to find her car, which could be a problem since she didn't think the Queens still had valet parking at this time. Maybe she could just call a cab. Then she could just ask Oliver to send her car to her apartment. Or maybe to the foundry.

But that would mean talking to Oliver.

Which kind of defeats the whole tiptoeing out of the room and not waking him up thing.

Felicity sighed and turned her gaze away from the door. She didn't see much of it late last night when she and Oliver stumbled inside. Actually, she didn't see much except for the bed. And Oliver.

She looked around the room, which was the size of her entire apartment. She was mildly surprised by the prevalence of nautical decorations. There were a couple models of ships, several paintings. She would have thought the sinking of the Queen's Gambit would have put off the Queen family from anything water related.

She tried to find other things of interest in the room, but her gaze kept getting drawn to the man who occupied a good portion of the bed she was sitting on. He slept on his stomach, his arms hugging a pillow. He was turned away from her so she felt it was safe to look her fill. Scars criss crossed his broad back. She remembered running her fingers over them last night. Part of the blanket that she was using as a rather immodest cover-up was draped over his lower half, obscuring his backside and legs. Felicity blushed as she remembered digging her fingernails into that taut ass at some point last night. She wondered if her marks would still be there and fought the urge to slide the sheet down just a little to see.

But even if they weren't she still can't pretend nothing happened. She and Oliver will have to talk. About this. About last night. What it means … if it even means anything. Oh God, what if it meant nothing, Felicity thought and felt tears prick her eyes. She'd fought so long and so hard to not want this. It just wasn't in the cards, she'd repeatedly told herself. He goes for leggy, model types, like Isabel. And Laurel. Or women who kicked serious ass, like Helena and Detective McKenna. Oliver Queen does not have relationships with IT experts who have a tendency to babble. Even when he calls said IT expert his partner.

Felicity twisted her fingers together as tears silently fell down her cheeks. She should really leave now, she thought. She didn't want Oliver to see her distraught over a romance that was all in her head. She braced a foot on the floor to stand up when Oliver stirred. She stopped and held her breath, suddenly afraid of what was to come.

Oliver turned his head toward her and smiled sleepily. "Hey," he mumbled, lazily reaching for her.

Without thinking, Felicity took his hand. Then promptly tried to pull it back when she saw his eyes widen, suddenly alert. He scrambled to sit up, his body ready for action. "What's wrong? Are you hurt? What happened?"

"What? Nothing? There's nothing wrong," Felicity stammered as she tried to get her hand back. It was no use, of course, as Oliver only tightened his grip and took the other hand as well.

"But you're crying."

"Oh this? Just allergies. Morning allergies. Oh look, at the time! I should go. Get ready for work. Don't want to be late. My boss, he's always late. But I don't want to be." She wrenched her hands from his grasp and stood up, fully intent on running toward the bathroom, where she could gather herself.

But Oliver was too quick. He bounced off the bed and landed right in front of her. "Felicity?" His voice was gentle as he stopped her with hands on her arms.

She stared at his chest. She couldn't look at him. She didn't want to look at him. Didn't want to see his face. Didn't want to see his concern. Or worse, his pity. "Oliver, please," she whispered, pleading for what she wasn't quite sure. Please let's just pretend this didn't happen. Please let's go back to what we were before last night. Please be gentle when you break my heart.

Felicity didn't know how long they stood there until Oliver stepped back and let her go. She wrapped the blanket around her a little more securely before stepping around him and heading for the bathroom.

"I'm sorry."

The desolation in his voice stopped her and she slowly turned around. However much she hurt, she couldn't stand it when he hurt.

"I'm sorry I screwed it up. I should have taken it slow. I should have asked you out to dinner. Asked you out on a date first. Several dates. I should have let you get used to the idea of us outside work, outside the foundry first before this," he gestured toward the bed.

"But I just wanted to be with you. And I've waited so long to be with you. So last night … last night when you looked at me in the ballroom, I thought you felt it, too."

Felicity was sure she was going to burst from all the emotion churning inside her. Us, he said. The idea of us.

"You want to be with me?"

"Of course, yes!"

"This wasn't going to be a one-night thing?"

"No! Not if I can help it!"

Felicity looked up quickly to check if the rafters shook from the force of Oliver's shout.

"Wait, is that what you thought?" Oliver frowned.

She nodded slowly. "We didn't really talk last night. There was that mind-blowing kiss outside on the terrace, then we were here and …" her voice trailed off. "I thought I was going to get the 'because of the life that we lead, we're better off as friends' speech."

Oliver shook his head and took her hands again. "I'm sorry for messing this up."

Felicity squeezed his fingers. "You didn't. I let my insecurities get away from me and talked myself out of the happiness I felt this morning."

"Apparently, we share that gift."

Felicity chuckled softly at his joke. Happiness. With him. It was right there for the taking. But she couldn't help ask, "Are you sure?"

Oliver pressed his lips gently against hers, "Are YOU sure? You're getting a broken man who still needs fixing."

Her lips curved into a smile. "I think we'll be fine. We'll be better than fine. We'll be great."

"You know what I thought when I woke up this morning," Oliver asked as he tugged her back toward the bed. "Happiest day ever. I had my Felicity finally with me."

Felicity laughed as Oliver dropped on his back, pulling her on top of him. "You are wearing too much blanket," he growled as he nipped her shoulder while his hands tried to unwound the sheet.

"And you are wearing nothing at all."

He just grinned. The man has no shame, Felicity thought. Thank God!

The end