A.N. Well, this turned out how it did. I didn't expect for it to go this far, but it did and for some odd reason I'm really happy with it. Okay, so just think about Ollie and Barry from Arrow and The Flash tv shows, not the comics. I tried not to include too much backstory stuff because I'll be honest I haven't seen either show but I do plan to watch at least the Flash some point soon. Hope you all enjoy this little bit of writing (which I feel I've neglected because of my YouTube channel lately) and hopefully I get back into it soon.
Barry had stopped in his tracks; his new friend standing in front of him. Though distant, Barry noticed Oliver's blue eyes darken as he gripped the bow at his side tighter. But Oliver didn't look angry.
"Ollie?" Oliver didn't move an inch; something seemed wrong with him.
Barry stepped forward, two paces then stopped. Oliver had no move back nor forward. He just stood there like he was some kind of living statue. His grip loosened on the bow, knuckles no longer turning white from strain.
Oliver had seemed fine a couple of hours before; the pair of men sitting in his sitting room in the rich man's mansion. Barry was laughing about something Felcity had done; her having a clumsy day or something. He hadn't noticed his hand, after moving from his face, moved to Oliver's knee.
Barry quickly retracted the hand back into his own lap, feeling his cheeks and neck heat up. The young man didn't even want to look at Oliver's face as he excused himself, making up a quick (and very lame) reason to leave. He was back at his small appartment in a few minutes in Central City. (Being a metahuman had it's advantages!)
The unexpected had happened, when Oliver had ask Barry to meet him back in Starling City over the phone. Both stood there in their costumes, hidden by the shadows of the taller building beside them, despite the abundance of light behind Barry. Oliver only saw the silluette of his friend, whom now slowly edged closer to him.
His bow was placed back into the quiver, the strap over his torso pulling down a little from the extra weight now being carried. Oliver noticed Barry pause in his tracks, studying the movements carefully. Barry was always smart; trying to react quicker than what his opponents could think, running through strategies in his head.
But Oliver didn't want to pick a fight with Barry. He wouldn't have called him if he did.
"Well..." He had reached about arms length from Oliver by the time he started to speak, careful of what to say. Nothing had come out of his mouth after the one word, having the wind nearly knocked out of his from the sudden pressure of having a wall at his back and Oliver in close proximity. Barry hadn't been slow since he was human, and part of him thought it felt nice to feel that way again.
Even from the far distance he crossed, Oliver's eyes were darker, but up close they were closing in on being black. Once again, the same conclusion popped into Barry's head; 'Ollie doesn't look angry.' Barry's body didn't register that his body now almost melded with Oliver's until a slow increase in body heat alerted him; yet neither made any move to get away.
"I never thought that a-" Oliver paused momentarily, a funny look appearing on his face before shaking it off. "A metahuman, would have this much of an effect on me." The tip of Oliver's nose touched Barry's softly. Barry almost wanted to ask what was happening, but began liking the position too much to question anything.
"Tease," that seemed to be the one response Oliver wanted to hear; his lips curling into a tight lipped smirk. Oliver grabbed Barry's wrists, just as his nose slid down the side of Barry's. He bit the other man's bottom lip sharply; a small gasp and groan erupting from the younger man.
"No," Oliver replied as his lips pressed quickly onto Barry's jawline. "This is teasing." Barry wanted to have his wrists back in control, but the grip was tightened and his body shuddered when Oliver kissed the right spot on his neck. Barry was forced against the wall more, loving how this felt.
"Sweet little Barry," Oliver now had his lips close to Barry's, his breath hot against the other man's parted mouth. "What do I do with you?" Barry closed the gap. His eyes closed feeling the contact.
"Ollie," Barry whispered, feeling more kisses on his neck in an instant. "S-stop!"
"You don't like me doing this?" Oliver's eyes were now pretty much the shade of black, pleasure eyes with a sleepy kind of daze like waking up from a nice dream. Barry shook his head.
"I do... Like it." He paused to have more control over his voice. "But this certainly isn't the place."
Barry turned around, feeling Oliver jump into his back. It felt like a few seconds (and maybe it was) to reach Oliver's mansion.
Oliver locked his bedroom door behind them, falling onto Barry as they lay on the large bed. Barry slowly took off Oliver's mask and hood, looking up at the face above him.
"How did we get here?" He asked, one of his gloved fingers tracing a burning hot trail across Oliver's jaw.
"From the alleyway, Barry. The most imperfect and ugly place to start feel this beautiful perfection." Oliver moved one hand from griping the cover to move Barry's mask over his head. His hair would be even more messed up when he was done.