A/N: I'd just like to start off by saying thank you so much for the birthday wishes! It really made my day! Last chapter was a huge success in the reviews department (the most I've gotten so far)! Anyways, the past few days have been pretty hectic what with papers due and such, but I managed to sneak in some writing. I wasn't expecting this chapter to take the turn that it did, but I'm really happy with the changes I've made.
On another note, how hot was that Olicity scene?! I'm ashamed to admit how much I've re-watched it.
Chapter Eight
There was a comforting warmth surrounding Felicity when she woke up. Her arms attempted to thrust forward in a stretch, hitting resistance in the form of a solid figure. Immediately, her eyes opened. Oliver was pressed into her, arms wrapped tightly around her midriff. Her head was directly under his chin, his stubble lightly grazing her temple when she drew back.
"Oh god," she breathed, realizing he was only in his boxers.
And where the hell were her shorts?
He stirred, making her stiffen in his arms. He pulled her closer to his body, murmuring her name into her hair. She waited, counting the seconds in her head, but he never woke up. Her body was pressed so achingly good against his, and she had to physically restrain herself from rubbing into him.
She needed to get out of there. She couldn't think when he was this close. This was the first time they had ever shared a bed together, and the rush of emotions that came with it struck her hard.
As carefully as she could, she lifted his arm from her body. He resisted at first, bringing her closer to him yet again. But her determination gave her the strength to keep trying until his arm was resting along the length of his body, and not draped over hers. After that, sneaking out of her bed wasn't as difficult as she had believed. Surprisingly, he was a heavy sleeper. She nearly tripped over her own two feet, steadying herself and glancing over at him.
He was out.
She left her room, shutting the door behind her with caution. Her eye caught the gleam of her purse when she turned around, and she raced over to it. Inside was her phone, still fully charged from the night before. Her fingers scrolled through her contacts, tapping the screen harshly when she found who she was looking for. It took five rings until the person on the other end picked up.
"Hello?"
"Sara?"
"Felicity? Why are you calling me this early? Is everything all right?"
"Oliver and I slept together," she blurted, beginning to pace around her living room.
"Am I supposed to be surprised here?"
Felicity ran a hand over her head, closing her eyes. "No, Sara. We slept together, like in the same bed. Minus the sex! It was just cuddling and spooning and oh my god, what do I do?"
"Oh," her friend gasped, and Felicity knew she had her full attention. "Well, where is Oliver right now?"
"He's still in my bed. I got out of there and called you as soon as I could."
"OK, here's what you do," Sara advised, "Crawl back into that bed and talk it out."
"I can't do that!" Felicity exclaimed, remembering she was supposed to be whispering.
"Felicity, if you don't talk about it now, you never will."
Felicity sighed, knowing her friend was right. "OK," she agreed.
"Good," Sara replied. "I'll come over later and you can tell me how it went. I have to go right now though because I'm kind of in the middle of something."
There was a small moan from the other end of the phone, and Felicity shoved it away from her ear. "Ew, Sara! Are you having sex?"
"Bye, Felicity."
The phone cut off, leaving Felicity completely grossed out. She tossed her phone onto the counter near her bar stools, feeling as though it were infected or something. Her eyes shut as she gave herself a small pep talk. She could do this. She could get into a bed with Oliver Queen and just talk. It was possible.
Who was she kidding?
Strong arms wrapped around her from behind, and she nearly jumped into the air. Oliver was against her back, kissing along her neck. She nearly sunk to the floor. She always loved the feeling of being held against him. And him sucking on her neck wasn't exactly helping matters.
"The bed felt empty without you in it," he murmured into her skin, tightening his hold on her.
"Did it now?" she asked, voice cracking towards the end.
"Mhmm," he nodded, sliding his hands underneath the cotton of her shirt. "You look really hot in this."
She looked down at her shirt. Crap. Of course she was wearing green. That was his favorite color. Plus, she still didn't have any pants on. Her hands reached behind her, drawing back quickly. He was still in only his boxers.
She needed to get away from him. There would be no talking getting done if he kept doing what he was doing. His tongue flicked over the column of her throat, causing her eyes to roll to the back of her head. The voice inside her head came back, scolding her. She moved out of Oliver's grasp, spinning around to face him.
"What are you doing?" he grinned, already moving forward to grab her again.
"No, Oliver," she denied, pressing her hand to his firm chest. "We need to talk."
"Talk about what?"
"Talk about last night," she answered, drawing her hand back.
"Look, I'm fine with us keeping things up until the end of the month. In fact, I am more than fine with it."
"What? No, I mean about us sleeping together. I mean, we shared a bed for the first time... ever," she reminded him.
"It wasn't that big of a deal, Felicity," he told her, furrowing his brows. "You wanted me to stay, so I did."
"So if I hadn't had asked, you wouldn't have stayed?" she questioned, trying to cover the stab of pain that pierced her heart.
"Felicity," he started, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Why are we talking about this?"
"Because I need some answers, Oliver. Things between us have changed since we started screwing, and don't you dare deny it."
He sighed, turning away from her. "OK, yeah. Things between us have changed. I don't think it's a bad thing though. It's actually kind of expected. Once we end things, everything will go back to normal."
"And you'll be OK with that?"
"Of course I will."
She nodded, trying to keep her tears from escaping. She would not cry in front of him. He had seen her cry on more than one occasion. He was there when her dog died, when her mom pressured her about finding love, and a million other times to wipe her tears away. But this was different. She was crying because of him. Turning around, she wiped her eyes.
She knew what she had to do.
"I think we should end things, Oliver."
"What?"
She didn't have to see him to know what his face looked like. His brow was probably creased, arms extended forward as he physically expressed his shock. Turning around again - once she got her emotions under control - she saw that she had been spot-on.
"We agreed to stop things once the merger ended. It's over now, and there's no reason for us to keep this up."
If he hadn't just told her he was OK with everything between them going back to how it used to be, she would have thought he looked upset. But no, she knew he was only upset because he was losing his quick and easy access to sex. He tried to reach for her, but she stepped out of his grasp.
"Did I do something wrong?" he asked.
"No, you haven't done anything wrong. I just don't see the point in keeping this up."
She forced herself to realize the truth in her words. Oliver hadn't done anything wrong. He didn't promise to catch feelings for her. He didn't agree to fall in love with her. He went into this with the expectation of sex, and sex only. It was her who had screwed up. She broke her own promise.
And she hated doing that.
"OK," he finally said, backing away. "I guess I'll go get dressed."
She stayed quiet, watching him go into her room. She sat on her couch quietly, looking up when he came back out minutes later. He was dressed in his suit from the day before, and there was a sadness in his eyes that she convinced herself she was imaging.
"I'll see you at work, Felicity," he told her, giving her a tight smile before walking out of her apartment.
Felicity cursed in her head. It had totally slipped her mind that she had work today. That was the last place she wanted to be. However, she knew she had to go. If things between her and Oliver were ever going to go back to normal, then she needed to act like it. But for now, while she was behind closed doors where no one else could possible see her, she cried.
And it felt good.
Felicity showered, scrubbing away the scent of Oliver that seemed to have seeped itself into her skin. Her shampoo reminded her of him, her shower reminded her of him, her bedroom freaking smelled like him. She got dressed into her favorite work outfit, needing to feel as normal as possible. The scent of him was overwhelming still. She ran over to her bed, tearing the sheets from the mattress. They fell to a heap on the floor, winkled and useless. The clock showed that she was already late for work.
There was no time for another breakdown.
She left her room, swallowing thickly. All she saw was the couch he had practically lived on, the bar stools where they had spent countless nights chatting obtusely, the floor where they had danced, the table where they had fooled around - to put it lightly- and the kitchen where he had cooked for her and licked sticky syrup from her skin.
God, he was everywhere.
Her last thought as she raced out of her apartment was that she was going to have to burn all of her things. Because her determination not to think about him was so persistent, she took the stairs instead of the elevators. For her to walk down those steep steps in three-inch heels really said something. Once she was near her car, she pushed away the image of him driving it.
The stereo blared The Kin at the start of the engine, and she nearly lost it. Instead, she turned the music off, driving in silence. It took her a while to get to work, but that was mostly because she kept debating whether or not to go back home. Eventually, she was pulling into the parking lot of Queen Consolidated, stepping out of her car. The door of the building opened with ease when she pulled it, her heels clacking against the tile with a purpose.
People looked at her with fear. They knew she was important here. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that this was exactly where she needed to be. Thankfully, there wasn't a line at the elevators. She stood in front of the doors, knowing they would open any second now. As they pulled apart, she came face to face with Ray. He looked up when he saw her, just as surprised as she was.
"Ray, I thought yesterday was your last day," she said, confused as to what he was still doing here.
"It was. I just came by to drop something off for Walter," he explained. "Are you just getting here?"
"Yeah, I was running a little behind," she flushed, making him smile.
"I've had those days." He eyed her, stepping out of the elevator. "I'm sure there's no point in me even asking, but its kind of become a routine for me." He chuckled. "Are you free tonight?"
This was it. This was her opportunity to start the long journey of getting over Oliver. Ray was a nice guy who really seemed to like her for some reason. He made more of an effort to have a relationship with her than Oliver ever had. The choice was clear to her.
"As a matter of fact, I am," she answered, watching the surprise fill his eyes.
"Are you, uh, really?" he sputtered, watching her nod. "Then, would you like to go out to dinner tonight? With me," he quickly added.
"Sure," she agreed. "Is seven o'clock OK with you?"
"Uh, yeah. I'll be there. Just give me your address."
"I'll text it to you," she assured, stepping onto the elevator that had refused to close with her body standing in the way. "Goodbye, Ray. See you tonight."
"See you tonight," he returned, grinning widely.
The doors came to a close, and she reflected on what she had just done. She was giving Ray a chance. He deserved that much. And if it really went bad, at least she could say she tried. When she arrived on her floor, her eyes searched for Oliver. He wasn't in his office. She walked into hers, not finding him there either.
Sighing, she sat down at her desk. Normally, she would be grateful for the lack of work. Now, sitting here in an office connected to Oliver's with glass walls, she would kill for something to take her mind off of things. There were some old cases she had been working on before the merger, and she dug them out of her system. Just as all of the tabs were pulled up, Oliver stepped out from the elevator.
His feet were leading him into his office, his eyes glued his phone. She licked her lips because he had somehow managed to change into one of her favorites of his suits. He glanced into her office, changing direction once he saw her in there. She smiled at him, stuffing down the urge to let her emotions show and pretending like she hadn't just been checking him out.
"Hey, where did you get off to?" she asked, standing up.
"I went to get some air," he answered, putting his phone in his pocket. "Laurel called."
"Ew."
He smiled at her, and she was instantly transported back to the night that had started this whole mess. She remembered having the same response about same person. The world was funny like that sometimes.
"She wants to grab dinner tonight," he continued.
"What did you say?"
"I said yes."
White, hot anger seared through her veins. If he were to be with anyone, Laurel was the last person she wanted it to be. They just weren't meant to be together. Also, the thought that Oliver had gone right back into another woman's arms not even an hour after they ended things hurt.
Then again, hadn't she just done the same thing with Ray?
He looked like he was about to say more, but she found herself beating him to it. It didn't really seem like her choice, because in no world did she ever imagine telling Oliver what she did. Yet, the words tumbled off her lips anyway, almost assuring her a slap of regret later.
"Well, that's good. I actually ran into Ray on my way up here. He's taking me out tonight."
Oliver's jaw clenched. It was an action that she had always found hot, and today was no exception. Her body temperature rose, and she backed onto her desk. A battle seemed to be raging on inside of him. His eyes darkened, and not in that secret way they did when she did something to direct his mind into a very private area.
When he took his first step towards her, her breath caught. He paused, seeming to be processing something. Her eyes studied him, watching as his closed and he exhaled calmly. Then, they were opening again, the sheer darkness of them making her tremble. He was on a mission as he strode over to her, closing the space between them in a few easy strides. His hand enclosed around her wrist, guiding her out of her office and towards a part of the floor she had never been to before. There was a single door that he brought them through, shutting it behind them and surrounding them in darkness.
Her eyes struggled to adjust to the sudden lack of light. "Oliver, where are-"
"Storage closet," he cut her off, dropping down in front of her.
Her heart leaped into her throat as her senses heightened in the darkness. "There's a storage closet on this floor? I never even noticed. How is it that I-"
Again, she was stopped short. Only this time, it was of her own doing. Oliver had pushed her skirt up, spreading her thighs apart with his palms. His breath was hot on her skin, and her arms automatically extended towards him to steady herself using his shoulders. His lips attached themselves to the inside of her left thigh, his stubble scraping against her in the process.
"Oliver," she panted, needing to feel his lips just a little bit higher.
"Don't move," he ordered, continuing to lick and suck on the same spot.
She nodded weakly, though she knew he couldn't see it. Her head hung back limply, sucking in air every time his teeth came into the mix. It was hard to keep from squirming, but soon she was used to the swipe of his tongue and the warmth of his breath. The sounds he was making as he did this were erotic, and she was wondering who was finding more pleasure in this. After a couple of minutes, he pulled away, swiping a thumb across the wet skin.
"That should be good," she heard him mutter, right before starting the same process all over again on her other thigh.
The world crashed down on her as she realized what he was doing. This wasn't one last fuck in the storage closet. This wasn't his way of saying goodbye to the part of their relationship that only seemed to complicate things. No, this was him branding her. This was him claiming her as his own - which he had made perfectly clear this morning, she wasn't. For Oliver, this was his assurance that she would not be screwing Ray today.
That bastard.
She was pissed. She hadn't been planning on sleeping with Ray to begin with, but the fact that it would be impossible for her to do it now infuriated her. This wasn't Oliver's decision to make. She didn't belong to him, no matter what he had called into her skin that night where he was also being a possessive ass.
"Oliver, I know what you're doing," she breathed, feeling his smirk against her her thigh.
"Do you now?" he taunted, only adding to her frustration.
She closed her eyes, wanting to slap him, yet tilt his head a little higher, at the same time. "I'm furious with you."
"Then why aren't you stopping me?"
She paused, pondering the same question. What he was doing did anger her beyond belief, but she also found it an indescribable kind of arousing.
Oliver got to his feet suddenly, pulling her skirt down until it was back in its original place. She didn't question that Oliver knew what he had been doing. Those marks were surely high enough on her thigh to only be seen by someone who she would be getting naked - or damn near it -with.
She shivered as he stood in front of her, only able to see the whites of his eyes. She thought he was done, but then his fingers were working to undo the tiny buttons of her blouse, head dipping downwards to suck on the tops of her breasts. She moaned, hating that he had this sort of effect on her. She was trying to stay strong here, god dammit!
"Just to be sure," he murmured cockily, and all she wanted to do was fuck him senseless.
As he licked repeatedly over her soft skin, she carded her fingers through his hair. She told herself she was a horrible person, but she didn't really care at the moment. What she did care about, was explaining to Oliver what her expectations had been with Ray.
"I wasn't going to sleep with him, you know," she said, feeling him pause.
"I wasn't willing to take that risk," he replied, finally raising himself to his full height as her fingers fell from his hair.
Her anger grew since he apparently didn't think she could go on a single date with a guy without screwing him. "Were you thorough enough, Mr. Queen," she spat, some of that anger obvious in her words.
He responded to her snarky question by slipping a finger into her panties. She moaned loudly, falling into his solid form. She could smell his cologne on his suit, and boy, did it drive her insane. He moved his finger against her, hitching her breath with each stroke.
"You want me, Felicity," he observed, letting out a shuddering breath and speaking again before she could respond. "God, I want you, too."
As if to prove it to her, he thrust his hips into hers. She let out a whimper, feeling his erection pressing persistently into her thigh. Desperately, she reached down to touch him, but his hand caught her wrist to stop her.
"We can't," he reminded her, pulling away. "We're best friends; and after this morning, it was clear that we can't be anything more than that. Sleeping with you again wouldn't be fair to our friendship. I'm not going to do it; no matter how much I would like to. I want you to be happy, Felicity. If Ray makes you happy, then I want that for you."
"If that's true, then why did you mark me?" she asked, confused.
"Because the thought of you fucking Ray literally drives me insane."
She bit her lip to keep in the moan that threatened to escape when he cursed. He rarely swore like that, but she quickly discovered how much it turned her on. Well, it was a little too late now.
"I heard you correctly a couple nights ago, right? You said that I belonged to you and not Ray," she recalled, really wishing it was light enough for her to see his expression.
He didn't speak for a few moments, and she found herself holding in her breath until he finally did. "You will always belong to me in a way that no other guy will ever understand, just like I will always belong to you in a way that no other girl will ever understand. We're best friends, and our friendship is not one that is found often. When I'm with you, it's impossible for me not to be happy. I can tell you anything - and I do. Just the thought of losing that closeness with you... It's inconceivable, Felicity. So, despite the fact that I think you can do a million times better than Ray, I still want you to know that I'll be there to support you with whatever you decide."
"You're willing to accept Ray?" she questioned, her voice a low murmur.
"I'm sure it will always infuriate me, but I'll learn to tolerate it." She could hear his smile and feel the soft touch of his hand cupping her face as he added, "For you."
She grinned cheekily, glad he couldn't see her face. "You do realize that means you can't brand my skin anymore, right?"
She could feel his breath on her shoulder as he let out a light chuckle. "Hey, it bought me a few days to come to terms with everything." His tone was casual as he continued. "And besides, what would you have rather had me do: give you a couple hickies, or kick Ray where it counts?"
She laughed, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. "Is neither an option?"
"Not anymore," he replied, removing his finger from her panties to run it along the hickey on her left thigh.
She sucked in a breath at the loss of contact, imagining the smug smirk he was probably wearing. "It's going to be hard going back to a non-beneficial friendship."
"You have no idea," he muttered, pressing into her a little more forcefully so that she was reminded of just how affected these past few minutes had him.
"Yeah, you won't be able to do that anymore," she told him, letting out a laugh at his exasperated sigh.
"How did I ever manage before?" he groaned, making her laugh little louder.
There were a few moments of silence before she spoke again. "Hey, Oliver? Do you really think we can go back to being friends? Like before?"
He paused. "Felicity, there isn't a thing in this world that would keep me from being your best friend. I need you in my life."
"Someone should alert the media," Felicity breathed, feigning shock. "Oliver Queen is admitting to needing someone in his life."
Oliver chuckled again, waiting a couple seconds before telling her, "Of course I need you, Felicity. I wouldn't be Oliver Queen without you."
Just like this morning, she wanted to cry. The differences between these two moments was insane. It was crazy how their communication was so much better now than it was earlier. She actually felt confident that they would figure all this out. She was sure if he kept saying things like that, they definitely would. He said those sort of things to her so often, she should be used to it by now. Still, sometimes she forgot how sweet he could be.
He pulled away from her then, forcing her to let out a noise of protest as his body heat left hers. She heard him grab the doorknob, expecting him to just leave. That's why she staggered backwards when he lunged into her, bruising her lips with his kiss. His tongue slid into her mouth, hands scuttling along the expanse of her back.
She knew this was a goodbye kiss even though it was the opposite of gentle like normal goodbye kisses usually were. This kiss made her hungry and ache for more. She wondered if she would ever find a guy who could make her feel like Oliver did in just one kiss. The thought that she never would made her sad. When he broke away, her breathing was labored and coming out in short pants. It pleased her that he was in the exact same condition.
"Have fun tonight," he finally said, pausing on his way out the door. "And remember what I said, Felicity. He hurts you, and I'm going to kick his ass."
He left, stepping loudly so that she could hear him grow farther away. The door was cracked open, but she wasn't ready to go outside just yet. She was angry and confused and horny as hell thanks to him. Sure, she had been affected by his actions. However, it was his words that kept replaying through her head. Despite everything, he still only cared about her happiness. And the last part had been just cruel.
How was she expected to move on when he was saying things like that?
Shaking her head, she buttoned her shirt back up and left the storage closet. The bathroom was on the opposite side facing the closet, and she hurried for it. The door was locked shut as soon as she was safely inside, breath leaving her body in pants as she wondered if Oliver had seen her or not. She rolled her eyes, realizing how ridiculous she was being.
Approaching the mirror that hung above the sink, Felicity began to fix her hair. A few locks had fallen out of place, but it was an easy fix. She wiped the smudged lipstick from the edges of her mouth with a wet paper towel, making a mental note to herself to apply more once she was back at her desk. She was about to leave when she thought about what Oliver had done to her.
She needed to see how her skin looked after his thorough sucking. Reluctantly, she undid the buttons of her blouse, gasping as the marks came into view. There were three of them along her breasts; one on her left boob, and two on her right. Her fingers traced over the darkened skin, teeth unknowingly covering her bottom lip.
She really hated how turned on by this she was.
Since her curiosity still wasn't satisfied enough, she pulled her skirt up to see the other marks. They were similar to the ones on her breasts, however, a little darker. He had spent more time making sure these stuck around longer. She blushed, thinking about how close he had been to her.
The night he had gone down on her had been one she thought about quite frequently. He had been, without a doubt, the best she had ever had. His tongue was some sort of gift from God. There were more than one occasion where she imagined him doing it again to her. Remembering that part of them was over now, she couldn't help but feel disappointed.
After trying to convince herself it was for the better, she decided it was time to step back out into the real world. She shouldn't be thinking about Oliver. What had happened in the storage closet had been a goodbye. Now, it was her turn to figure out the person she was a week ago. Ray popped into her mind, reminding her of how he could possibly help her forget all about her conflicting emotions towards Oliver.
That helped her nerves some. She left the bathroom, head raised high in case Oliver was watching.
Oliver was on the phone when she stepped out, his back to her as he overlooked the city. She couldn't hear what he was saying, but she was thankful he was distracted. It was less embarrassing for her as she slipped into her office, trying to focus on her work.
Unfortunately, that call had to end, and Oliver was back behind his desk. Felicity blushed every time she caught him looking at her from the corner of her eye. For someone who was determined to just be friends with her, he sure loved showing her he felt the exact opposite.
A/N: Despite my liking for this chapter, I am really nervous to see your responses. I know everyone is pissed about Ray right now, but just stick with me, OK? I promise nothing too gruesome is going to happen (I am a die-hard Olicity fan after all) between her and Ray. He is just a large contributor to making those two love-struck fools realize how they feel about each other.
Also, I was asked how many chapters were left in this fic. If my planning goes the way I expect it to, then there are probably four chapters left. Anyways, don't forget to leave that review. Thank you! :)
