A/N: Thanks again for taking the time to read and review! Hope you enjoy this latest trope. As always if you have suggestions for more, feel free to share. I've got quite the list now but I'm always looking to add to it.
Trope #4- Having to share a bed
Felicity slid the plastic key card into the slot and waited for the green light to go off before pushing the door open. She turned to see the surreal vision of Oliver Queen carrying her luggage into a hotel room.
He looked around slowly, peering into the dark bathroom. "Is this it?"
Because they were trying to stay under the radar Felicity had to book the room under her name using her credit card. Even with Oliver paying her back there was no way she could afford the penthouse suite with it's multiple bedrooms, and sunken living room.
So they were in what she could afford. Which meant they were in a normal hotel room.
What their room did give them was an unobstructed view to the apartment building across the street, which is why she had specifically asked for the cheap rate, and a room facing the parking lot.
"Sorry, mister billionaire, you're slumming it with the rest of us." she said easily and slipped past him into the bathroom.
"Where should I put your bags?" she heard him ask through the door.
"Either of the beds will be fine." she replied
"Bed," he responded
"What?" she asked in confusion as she exited the bathroom. As she turned the corner she realized what the problem was.
"No. I reserved a room with two beds. Two. Not one." Felicity felt her cheeks flush red in horror, hoping Oliver didn't think she'd done this on purpose.
He didn't seem to be as put out as she was. He laid their bags on the single bed and motioned towards the phone. "Just call the front desk. I'm sure they can move us."
He grabbed the bag containing his bow and quiver and brushed past her. "Text me the new room number. I'm going to go scout the rooftop and get the lay of the place." and in a blink he was gone.
She stood frozen, before she literally shook herself out of her own thoughts and called the front desk.
She tried. He couldn't say she didn't try.
They apologized profusely but there was a convention in the hotel and there were no other rooms available on their side of the building. Ironically they were willing to move her to a two room suite as an apology for their mistake, but it faced the pool, and was five floors too high.
With a sigh and a request that they let her know immediately if they had a cancellation in a two bed room on the correct side of the building she hung up.
Resigned she sent Oliver a text with the same room number and got to work setting up the surveillance equipment.
By the time Oliver unlocked the door it was getting dark and she was on her knees trying to wire a particularly difficult long range camera to her laptop so they could have a continuous feed of what was going on.
"Felicity..." Oliver drew out, not seeing her at first.
"Here," she announced, sticking one hand over the edge of the bed before she continued what she was doing.
"Why are we still in this room?" she felt the bed shudder as he threw the bag on it and sat down heavily.
"There's a convention or something and the only other available room was on the other side of the hotel, which would defeat the purpose of us being here in the first place so I told them to put us on a list in case a room opens up on this side, but I'm not going to hold my breath, and that's just how it's going to have to be." she said this all in one go, and not once did she pause or look over at him while she was working.
"I think I only caught about half of that, but the gist is that this is our room." there was a hint of amusement in his voice, but also something else.
Finally getting the connection to go the way she wanted let out a victorious whoop and crawled out from underneath the table.
She laid her elbows on the top of the mattress and looked up at him. "Yes, that is the gist."
She'd been going over this conversation in her mind the entire time he'd been gone.
"Look, we're both adults. This is a king size bed. There is absolutely no reason we can't share." she said it perfunctorily, and climbed to her feet, straightening her top as she did and actually crossed her arms in front of her while she waited for his response.
Oliver gave her an inscrutable look and laughed. "You practiced that, didn't you?"
Her cheeks flushed and she stalked out from behind the bed to put some distance between them. "I...how...I mean...How did you know?" she said, admitting her defeat
"You didn't ramble. And this right here is a quality Felicity Smoak ramble situation." His smile was genuine
Her mouth opened and shut before she could stutter out a reply, "Oh, and you just think you're an expert on my rambles then, are you?"
"I think it's fair enough to say that I am." her cheeks burned even more and she ducked her head away from him. "I find it endearing."
Her head flew up and her eyes met his. Had she just heard him right?
"Well, you don't need to worry, I mean, we are adults. And we can even use a pillow barrier if you want. I don't mean to imply that we need one. I don't intend on jumping you in the middle of the night or anything...oh my god did I really say that out loud?" Why couldn't she learn? Why did she continue to do the same thing over and over again?
Oliver approached her slowly and leaned down slightly so he could look her in the eye, "Felicity, it'll be fine. I don't think I'm in danger. Like you said, we're adults. We can share a bed."
Felicity took a deep breath and gave him a nod, her wish to have a hole open up below her and swallow her having only decreased slightly.
The rest of the evening passed in relative ease. The cameras and computers were set up to alert if there was any movement in the apartment. The man they were after was due in that night or maybe the next, the intel hadn't been clear on that. Felicity had set the programs up so they weren't tethered to the tech.
Oliver ordered room service and paid cash, which she said did not constitute being on the down low, but he ignored her. They ate quietly while Felicity went over the file she'd amassed on their target.
She kept thinking things were a bit strained between them, but then he'd do or say something that was perfectly normal and she just thought she was imagining things. It was no different than being in the lair all night, she told herself.
Near eleven he decided to do a quick patrol. She knew it was mostly because he was getting antsy sitting in one spot for so long, but she didn't let on.
As the door shut behind him she let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. Maybe he hadn't been on edge all night, but she had.
How was she supposed to sleep in the same bed as Oliver and pretend like she hadn't had this exact same fantasy almost from the day she met him.
She let out an exasperated sigh and threw herself backwards onto the bed.
She had a huge crush on him. Actually it was more than that, she liked him. A lot. Scratch that, she loved the man. Full on, in love, hadn't looked at another guy in months, in love with the man.
And there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it.
After Tommy, whatever had been between Laurel and Oliver had fallen apart. Hell, Oliver had fallen apart. It had taken months for Felicity to get through to him again, before he started sounding like the man he had been before the Glades. But whatever she thought might have been there between her and him, or maybe just the idea that it could be possible, had been effectively quashed. Oliver had been nothing but business since he'd been back.
He sounded like the old Oliver, and acted like the old Oliver, except when it came to her.
She hadn't noticed it at first, but he didn't touch her any more. Not that he had ever touched her that much, but there would be an occasional hand on her shoulder, or a brush over her arm after he'd come back from a particularly difficult mission. But since he'd put the Hood back on after the Glades; nothing.
So she took his cue and did the same. Unless she was patching him up she didn't touch him, and then she was sure to use gloves. She'd never realized how often she wanted to do it, until she couldn't.
With a growl of frustration she forced herself off the bed and opened her suitcase. When she'd packed she knew her and Oliver would be sharing a room and that thought had been bad enough. Now though...
She'd wrestled long and hard over what to wear to sleep in. It couldn't be too revealing, and yet, she didn't want it to be too frumpy either. Typically she wore an old t-shirt and yoga pants but that simply wouldn't do.
In the end she'd decided on a tank style nightgown. The straps over the shoulders were almost two inches wide and it came to her knees, which made it longer than several cocktail dresses he'd seen her in.
As she made her way into the bathroom to brush her teeth and change she wondered if it had been a wise decision. Maybe the ratty t-shirt would have been a better choice.
The bed loomed before her. She wondered distractedly if he had a side of the bed. Then she wondered if their preferred sides were compatible.
She checked her equipment one more time and then eyed the bed warily. She could stay up and wait for him to get back before she chose a side, or she could just get in and hope to fall asleep. Or to at least pretend that she had.
It took no time at all to come to the conclusion that the latter of the two options was the better one.
For a mid-level hotel chain the bed was surprisingly soft, and there were more than enough pillows to make that barrier if she really wanted to. She selected her optimal pillow amount and put the extra one from her side on the floor.
With the lights out and her glasses off, all she could make out was the faint glow from her computer, and various small lights on the camera. She wondered if she should get up and turn a light on for Oliver, but remembered he had the eyesight of a cat and would be just fine.
She had expected sleep to be elusive, as wired as her brain had been, but apparently internally freaking out for five hours about having to share a bed with Oliver Queen was quite draining and she was asleep in minutes.
A shrill repetitive beep drew her from sleep. She blinked open blurry eyes and saw the clock said 2:43 in the morning. A shot of panic went through her that Oliver hadn't come back, until she felt a heavy weight across her stomach.
Fully expecting she was still asleep and dreaming Felicity rolled over slightly to see Oliver right behind her with one long arm draped over her middle.
The beeping continued, and it was only because she was worried it would wake him that she slid out from beneath his arm and padded silently to her computer. Two short key strokes stopped the alarm and she spent a few minutes reviewing the last bit of film. There was no movement in the apartment, but there was a bird that had to decide to perch on the ledge that was barely visible in her sight line. With a heavy sigh she made the necessary adjustments and started the recording again. That task completed she now had to deal with the reality that lay only feet from her.
Turning slowly she observed him for a long time. He hadn't seemed to have moved which she found odd since she had just assumed he would have been a light sleeper. He lay mostly on his stomach with his head turned toward her side of the bed, his arm still outstretched.
With an audible gulp she realized he'd come to bed without a shirt one. Was the man trying to kill her?
Her eyes drifted from her empty space in the bed to the uncomfortable looking chair on the other side of the room. Should she try and sleep there instead?
No. That would look even worse in the morning if he woke up to find her in the chair. Maybe when she got back into bed he'd roll to his other side and wouldn't even know this had happened.
Her mind made up, and with her heart beating so fast she was amazed it hadn't exploded, she pulled the covers back slowly and slid into bed.
At first she lay so far over Oliver's fingers barely made contact with her. She was stiff as a board, and making a pathetic attempt at controlling her breathing when he shifted suddenly.
Her eyes wide, she didn't dare move. He sighed heavily, and mumbled something before reaching out.
She stifled her squeak of surprise as his arm wrapped around her waist again, but this time he was pulling her towards him. He easily slid her his direction like she weighed no more than one of the pillows. His hand clutched the down cover above them as he made another noise, this one sounding more like a sigh of contentment before he was still once more.
Millions of thoughts raced through her mind. The loudest one was shouting 'Enjoy it! You may not get this chance again!' And although that simultaneously made her want to crawl in a hole and die of shame, there was also some truth to it. So she justified it. She pushed aside her fear, and her nerves, and the possibility that this could go horribly wrong in the morning and she decided she was going to just let this happen.
Amazingly as soon as she accepted this path her breathing returned to normal, and her pulse was back to where it was supposed to be. She carefully turned on her side, still facing away from him and tried to just enjoy the moment, instead of letting the butterflies in her stomach get out of control. She fell back asleep to thoughts of doing this in the Queen mansion and how it would be to be able to do this every night.
There were no more intrusive alarms the rest of the night. Something tickling her right leg brought her slowly into that space between asleep and awake. Turning her head into the pillow she cracked open one eye to see a close up view of one of Oliver's tattoos.
Except it hadn't been the pillow she'd turned into, it had been Oliver's arm. She lay as still as possible, now suddenly, and painfully wide awake. His breath was still even, for which she was immensely grateful.
Either she'd turned into him during the night or he'd pulled her in closer, it was impossible to tell, but both his arms were wrapped securely around her, one hand splayed across her ribs, the other engulfing her hip. It was that hand that was currently causing her so many problems.
His nearness was disorienting. She'd only ever been this close to him when he'd been practically on deaths door, and even then she'd had thoughts that had later made her blush. Now, in bed, with the man she couldn't stop thinking about...she was in trouble.
His fingers traced unknown patterns on her skin that made her entire body shiver, as well as a flush of heat that went straight to her core.
He was asleep, she told herself. He wasn't aware of what he was doing. He was probably dreaming of some supermodel, or actress he'd been with before. Or maybe Laurel. Probably Laurel. She tried to tell herself there was no way he knew what he was doing in hopes it would lessen the blow when he woke up and realized who he was with.
She took a slow deep breath and began to move; she couldn't keep laying there and have any sort of hold over her sanity.
As soon as she shifted, Oliver did as well. He rolled more to his back and took her with him. The weight of him was enough to keep her trapped. She now had one hand braced on his chest as his arms held her more securely.
The hand he'd had on her hip had pulled her leg to now lay over his thigh. Her heart rate increased, as a shot of pure desire went through her.
She couldn't do this. She had to get out.
She decided to just be quick about it. Get out of the bed as fast as possible, and hope she could make it to the safety of the bathroom before he was awake enough to know what had happened.
It was a solid plan.
As she gave herself a mental pep talk Oliver's hand became more adventurous as it trailed up and down the length of her bare thigh. She wasn't even going to acknowledge the fact that her nightgown was rucked up about her waist now.
Felicity steeled herself for her next move, but just as she was about to bolt Oliver sighed deeply and buried his face in her hair. "..'Licity..." he mumbled, and she froze.
Heart pounding she tilted her head back slowly so she could see his face. He looked calm, and at peace, and she could count on one hand the number of times she'd seen that since she'd met him. Without realizing she was doing it, she lifted her hand and let it coast along his jawline.
Her eyes followed her fingers as they scraped across a day's worth of stubble. They traced his ear, over his temple, and traversed the shallow lines near his eye. As they trailed over his cheekbone she suddenly went still.
Without her being aware he'd woken up, and now her gaze was locked with his. Blue eyes that were clear, and aware, and fully cognizant of what was happening were staring back at her, and there was no surprise or shock, or anger.
All the nervousness, and uncertainty she'd felt before disappeared, and after the longest of pauses, where neither of them said a word she began to move her hand again, ever so tentatively.
The hand on her leg had resumed as well, he trailed one long, slow path from her knee to her hip where he took his time running along the edge of her underwear.
Her breath stalled in her throat but she didn't stop touching him. When she ran her hand over the back of his head and scratched her nails lightly he let out an involuntary groan that made her stomach do a flip.
His rapidly darkening eyes also let her know that he was just as affected by this as she was, but he still hadn't said a word.
She allowed her hand to fall down his throat, loving the feel of the corded muscles beneath his skin.
"Why don't you touch me any more?" she said breathlessly, unable to remain silent any longer.
His hand left her hip, followed the curve of her waist, and up over her shoulder. As his thumb worked it's way under the shoulder of her nightgown, she swallowed heavily and tried to control her pulse which was rapidly getting out of control.
He studied her intently before letting his hand come up to cup her cheek, "Because I knew if I started, I'd never be able to stop."
She'd stopped breathing, that was for sure. She also might still be sleeping, because this could not be her reality.
"Oliver..." she began but was halted when he lightly pressed one finger over her lips.
"You make me better, Felicity. But I'm not sure I make you better." There was nothing but truth behind his words. He fully believed what he said.
"So why are you touching me now?" she had to know. She needed him to tell her what had caused this sudden change.
The hand on her cheek slid back so his fingers caressed the nape of her neck and his thumb ghosted over the shell of her ear. He drew her even closer towards him before he answered.
"Because I'm a selfish man." he whispered, his mouth a hairsbreadth from his, and then it wasn't.
His lips on hers drowned out any thoughts that may be going through her head. The kiss was wet and hot and slightly desperate. There had months of sexual tension on her end, but she had been completely unaware that he had shared in it as well.
He overwhelmed her. Every sense was heightened, her hands and feet were numb, as blood coursed through her, sending her heart thrumming from his touch.
His fingers were buried in her hair, the hand on her ribs now sliding under her nightgown, leaving electricity in his wake everywhere he touched. She arched into him when his thumb brushed the side of her breast, her hands finally waking up and finding purchase on his shoulder.
Felicity was unable to keep tiny, mewling noises from escaping as he sucked her bottom lip between his teeth and bit down lightly. Her hand flew to the back of his head to hold him tighter, making sure he didn't stop.
Oliver rolled to his back and took her with him. She let out a breathless gasp as she sprawled across his chest and then took advantage of her new situation. Stretching up to reach his mouth again, she let her hands fall to his shoulders, and then begin to work their way south by touch.
She found every scar, every rough pucker of skin marred by violence, and let her fingertips glide over them almost reverently. Her slower pace was matched by Oliver as his kisses left her mouth to find her jawline, followed by her neck.
She gasped aloud when he found a particularly sensitive spot, and then groaned when he used teeth, unconsciously pressing down onto the long, lean thigh that ran between her legs.
Sparks shot to her center at the contact, and taking things slow was suddenly rejected by both of them.
His palms skimmed up her bare back between her shoulder blades, leaving gooseflesh wherever he touched.
In a move she didn't see coming he divested her of her nightgown and flipped her onto her back before she could blink. Her bare chest was now in contact with his. Her hips dropped open automatically to accommodate him.
His arms bracketed either side of her, reinforcing just how large of a man he was. She shivered as she looked up, his blue eyes almost darkened to black. When his hand palmed her breast she threw her head back. Oliver took that as an open invitation to lathe her throat with his tongue and his teeth, working his way down to her collar bone, where she was sure she'd have a mark the next day.
Then, as if she'd been doused with cold water, his previous words finally registered with her. When she'd asked him why he was touching her, he'd told her he was a selfish man.
Was this about her, and him, or was this just a means to an end for him.
Suddenly she was pushing away from him, trying to put as much distance as possible between them. "No! Oliver stop!" she said desperately, as she scrambled out from under him and to the other side of the bed as quickly as possible.
Felicity clutched the sheet to her heaving chest, trying not to think about how he'd just been touching her. She ran a hand over her hair and shut her eyes tight trying to gain some sort of composure.
"What are you doing?" a flash of hurt went across his face and she changed her words immediately, "What are we doing?" because she had to face the fact that even if he was doing this for different reasons she still hadn't stopped him.
He opened his mouth to begin speaking but she wouldn't let him, "God, Oliver. You had to know. You had to know I've had feelings for you. You can't just...play with that. I'm a real person. I don't do fake, and I don't do superficial. This means something to me. And beyond that the work we do means something to me. I can't go backwards now. But if you're not all in...where does that leave us? Where does that leave the Hood?" tears made her vision wavy. "I know I don't fit into your real world, but I fit into the other one, at least I thought I did...I can't...I can't lose that. But if this is some game, or you're just taking advantage of the situation..."
She risked a glance at him. He was still frozen in place, half on his side after she'd barreled out from under him. The stony expression was unreadable, except for his eyes which flicked from anger to hurt, to something she couldn't pin.
He took a long inhale and very deliberately pushed himself backwards so he could lean against the headboard. When he spoke he didn't look at her.
"I got back last night a little after midnight and you were sound asleep. Blonde hair spread over the pillow, and...you took my breath away. It felt so right getting into this bed, with you already in it, and that didn't make any sense to me. And then...I fell asleep, Felicity." he paused, as if he was expecting a reaction from her, and when he didn't get it he turned to face her. The raw emotion made her gasp.
"I never sleep. I train as hard as I do because it's the only way for me to get any rest. I work my body to the point of exhaustion, and pass out. If I don't do that, I don't sleep, not in the ways that count. Since I've been back...it's just how it's been. And last night...I didn't think it would be any different. I thought I would just lay there, but...I slept. Really slept."
Her face flushed at everything she had just said, horror that she'd just crucified him without knowing his side.
"I woke up around five and found you in my arms. It was...peace. I thought that every bad thing I'd ever done couldn't be that bad if I had someone like you in my life. And before I could go down the rabbit hole of my own psyche I fell back asleep; holding you. You are my absolution, Felicity Smoak, but...I'm not sure any one person deserves that sort of responsibility." She could see it in his eyes, he meant every word, and he expected her rejection.
Without a sound he handed her the nightgown he'd taken off of her and turned his head deliberately to the side so she could get dressed. With flushed cheeks she slid it over her head, thoughts whirling over what he had just told her.
"I can't say I'm sorry about what happened. Because I'm not." he said with a small shrug. "But I am sorry if I've made you doubt my intentions." he pushed the covers back and stood in one smooth move. "I think part of me has always known you could be this for me, but I was too scared to ask, because I didn't think I deserved it."
He began to turn away, but she couldn't let him.
"Stop!" she said sharply, as she crawled to the edge of the bed and knelt in front of him. "I need to know...you're all in?"
His hand came up haltingly before dropping over her hair, "I'm all in."
She gave him a brilliant smile, and looked up at him through her lashes, "You could of just said that, you know. Instead of rambling on, it can be a rather obnoxious trait, you know."
The corner of his mouth lifted in response, "Obnoxious?" he quoted, "I thought we had established that it was endearing."
"Did we?" she asked in mock confusion, as she continued to grin at him. Her hands lay lightly on his chest, as his palms slid down her arms to cup her elbows.
"I'm certain we did." he said softly and leaned down to brush her lips with his.
"Well good then, as long as we've got that straight." she deepened the kiss as her arms slid up to wrap around his neck.
"We should take this slow." she said breathlessly as their lips parted.
"That's probably not a bad idea." he agreed and very purposely stepped back. "I'm going to grab a shower, and then maybe we should go over the tape from last night just in case."
She nodded her agreement and watched as he entered the bathroom without looking back.
Felicity sat in half stunned silence unable to fully process everything that had just taken place.
As she heard the water running she made a decision. Before she could change her mind she rose to her feet and made her way to the bathroom. Steam rolled over the top of the shower, the curtain obscuring her view. Without a second thought she pulled her nightgown over her head and skimmed out of her underwear.
If Oliver was surprised when she drew back the curtain he didn't show it.
"What are you doing?" he asked
"I came to tell you we've spent enough time taking it slow." she said with as much control over her voice as possible, and stepped into the shower to join him.
