A/N: Written for fandom_stocking.
Content
Considering where Oliver had spent the last five Christmases, spending this year's Christmas season in a hospital probably shouldn't have seemed so bad. Still, Diggle felt for the guy. He'd had a rough few weeks. Hell, Oliver had had a rough few years.
"Brought you a gift," Diggle said and set a pint of ice cream and a spoon on the small table next to Oliver. He'd briefly considered tossing it over, but figured that wouldn't be the kindest thing to do to someone who'd broken a bunch of ribs.
Oliver turned his head to look, only the barest hint of surprise showing on his face. "Dig, you shouldn't have. Except, wait, hospital food's still as shit as I remember, so actually, you really should have."
Diggle sat down in the stiff hospital chair. "You're welcome."
"Peppermint?" Oliver asked as he worked the lid off.
"It seemed fitting, being vaguely Christmas-like and all," Diggle said, shrugging. He also hadn't failed to notice the candy canes Oliver and Thea seemed to constantly be sucking on. "I hear they're letting you leave tomorrow."
"That's what they tell me." Oliver stuck a spoonful of ice cream in his mouth and closed his eyes, humming a bit in pleasure. So, okay, the peppermint had definitely been a good choice. "You know, it's too bad, the PT they're giving me doesn't do much for the guy looking to get back into the vigilante business."
Somehow Diggle didn't think Oliver was going to be getting back into 'the vigilante business' after a collapsed lung, three broken ribs, and a concussion any time soon, but it was probably best not to mention that. "No worries, I'll be happy to knock you on your ass a few times for a bit of a refresher."
Oliver's smile almost made it to his eyes, so Diggle counted that as progress. "I knew I could count on you, though I think your memory might be failing you. Somehow I can't recall you ever being able to knock me on my ass."
Diggle shook his head in disappointment. "Head trauma. That's too bad. Maybe they can still fix that."
"Yeah, I'll mention it to the nurses." Oliver gestured to the tub of ice cream. "You gonna help me eat this or what?"
"It's your gift, man, I didn't want to presume."
"Well, presume away."
"I would, but I only brought the one spoon."
"I spent five years on an island. Sharing a spoon doesn't even come close to grossing me out." Oliver paused, halfway through the act of scooping out a glob of ice cream. "Unless it bothers you."
Diggle took the proffered spoon. "Are you kidding? There's no such thing as boundaries in the army." He licked the back of the spoon and handed it back to Oliver.
Oliver still didn't look precisely happy, but his face wasn't as drawn and his shoulders had lost a lot of their tension. He looked closer to content than Diggle had seen him in a long while. "No boundaries, huh? You'll have to tell me about that sometime."
Yeah, content. That was a good word. "Will do," Diggle said.
End