AN: This story might seem odd at places, but I'm writing it in a hurry and far from a happy mood. If things doesn't make sense or seem rushed I'm sorry. I'm just in a very lonely and scared place right now. I'm writing this as therapy while trying to push the fear of that my boyfriend might break up with me. I just wanted to write something happy, and svgurl410's Ollie/Clark fics have always made me smile. So, yeah.

A cliché way

Oliver was a jerk. Clark walked down the street in a pace a little too quick to be human. People didn't seem to notice though. Not that Clark was aware of them at the moment, but if he had he would've been thankful for how invisible he really seemed to be to his surroundings. His thoughts were off the street, elsewhere, still in that office. Still with that blonde, smirking, know-it-all Oliver Queen.

Why was it that he always thought of the things to say now? When the conversation was since long over?

He growled to himself as he sped on. Thoughts of speeding back and cracking the very clever lines he just made up kept popping up, and were quite tempting. However, the blonde was obviously more skilled than Clark at this. Even if he put his heart and soul into trying to win he wouldn't.

Sure, he could play the guilt trick. Clark always did that when being nervous. And it always worked. He won, but it wasn't a real victory.

Nervous… why was he nervous when in the presence of the older man anyway?

He pushed the questioning thought away as soon as it had appeared. It didn't matter. This wasn't about him. This was about the jerk. Oliver. Why was it that Oliver seemed to… enjoy it? Every single argument, every fight and disagreement. He'd be upset at times, he'd yell at times… but all in all, he'd seem to enjoy it as well. And he kept calling Clark his friend. Was Oliver a friend? Clark wasn't even sure of that. All he could think of was that superior smile, those glittering brown eyes, and he was suddenly twice as annoyed as before.

There was nothing that calmed him more than gazing at the stars. They were so distant, so beautiful, and always seemed so… friendly. He could barely remember why he'd started star-gazing, but it was a damn good thing that he had.

He was so focused on the starlit sky that he didn't hear the sound of the car as it pulled up outside of the barn. Nor did he hear the other man approach until a cough alerted him of the visitor.

Clark looked up. He had been expecting his mom, or Chloe… maybe even Lois. Not Oliver. It actually took him a few seconds to realize and accept that the blonde was standing in his room, at midnight.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, and leaned against the railing. This was his territory; if Oliver wanted to pick up where they left he would be prepared. He wouldn't lose on home ground.

Oliver sighed, and his expression softened. He almost looked hurt, or even lost, where he was standing. Clark could do nothing but stare at the older man, he'd never seen him express emotion so openly before. "Clark…" the blonde's voice almost sounded broken. "Why can't we be friends?"

He didn't know what to say. He felt completely nonplussed. They argued, they fought, and that was their thing. He had never entirely thought of Oliver as a friend, but not as a stranger or associate either. Oliver was… something else. He didn't know what. All he knew was that it was different. "You mean like the Smash Mouth song?" He even smiled when he said it, he wasn't sure if he meant it, or if it was a joke, he just couldn't think of anything else.

The blonde just looked even sadder. Clark couldn't stand it. Oliver was the strong one, the flirty one, the secure one. He wasn't supposed to act like this. "Please, just… no, not like that. I'm serious Clark. This is not how I want things to be between us."

He tried; he really tried to think of something to say. His mind helpfully went completely blank, and he silently cursed at his brain for malfunctioning when he needed it the most. "I… I really don't know what to say Oliver."

A normal person probably wouldn't have noticed, but Clark did. He rarely looked anywhere but at the older man's eyes whenever he was around. Even if he couldn't win he could always read him that way. His eyes were still sad, but it was almost as if a glimpse of hope had appeared now.

Oliver took a step forward. When Clark didn't move but just continued to stare at him he took another. He stopped a few feet away from Clark. Invading the brunette's personal space was something he knew was a bad idea.

"I see how you are with the others; with Chloe; with the guys in The League; with Lois. I want that, Clark. I don't want us to keep this up. You're", he hesitated. He didn't know how much he could say. He didn't know at what point he'd scare the younger man off instead of actually getting him to listen. "You're a wonderful person Clark. You care about everyone, and you always try to do the right thing. All the time, you never stop caring. But… I've been thinking. Who is there for you? In a position like yours, someone that carries the burden on so many on their shoulders must get very tired. And frustrated. I've thought about this for so long, Clark. But whenever I try I fail."

He eyed the brunette closely. His eyes were wide open, but yet it was impossible to tell his thoughts. It almost looked like he was about to say something, but then his mouth snapped shut once again.

"I don't think anyone is there for you, entirely. The more I think about it the more I want to be that person." He hesitated. How far could he go? "But you obviously don't want me in your life. So I'll leave now."

He turned around, and his heart felt heavy. He had no idea of what he had expected to accomplish with this. The more he thought about what he'd just done the more stupid he felt. The pain in his chest got worse for every step he took, but he knew when he wasn't welcome.

The whisper was so silent that he could barely here it. At first he thought it was his imagination.

"Oliver…"

He didn't stop. It was too silent; it was what he wished to hear. It wasn't actually happening.

"Oliver, Ollie, Oliver!" It wasn't a whisper anymore. He took one more step, and the next second he felt a pair of warm arms embrace him. "Don't!"

Clark's exclamation really hurt his ears, but he welcomed the pain. He didn't say a thing; he just leaned into the embrace. If this was a dream he never wanted to wake up. If this would never happen again he could happily die tomorrow.

"Don't", the brunette was whispering again. This time he could hear better though. "Please don't leave Oliver. Don't leave me." The words seemed so full of pain that they cut through Oliver's heart like knives. Careful, but still with a bit of force since the brunette's embrace was far from light, he turned around. He was shocked to see tears in Clark's eyes, and the knives pushed even deeper. Getting his arms free from where they had been trapped between their bodies he hugged Clark tight.

"I won't", it was so much more than words, so much more than just a whisper. It was a promise.

They were silent for a moment.

"Man", Oliver said, and smiled. He pulled himself away from the younger man enough to look at him. "We could've chosen a less cliché way to start out, couldn't we?" He was happy to see that his words brought a slight smile to those beautiful lips and sparkling green eyes.

"I guess we could've. But I don't care." Clark went silent again. Just meeting the blonde's eyes and letting the seconds slowly pass by.

Oliver returned the glance, feeling his heart do all kinds of crazy shit in his chest. Whatever it was doing it wasn't beating normally anymore. "Clark, I have to confess something." His heart acted up even more as he spoke the words. Thinking about what he was about to say made him more scared than he'd ever been in his entire life.

He noticed how the brunette went paler, and hurried to continue. He wasn't sure what Clark thought he was going to say, but he didn't want to make him feel anxious. "If I don't allow myself to kiss you right now I think I might go insane."

The younger man simply stared at him for a moment, and then he looked both curious and unsecure. The next second he leaned in a little, and Oliver didn't need a clearer sign than that. When their lips met he knew that this was right. This was the one.

He was in heaven.