Author's note: Hello people, taking a quick break from my other story while I decide on how to proceed with the next chapter.
Warning: Swearing and male/male
Pairings: Oliver Queen/ Quentin Lance
Disclaimers: The plot I guess that's really about it… What a shame.
Thanks once again to Wtchcool for all the hard work.
Quentin stretched out as the plane slowly made its way to the arrival gate; letting himself relax back into the plush first-class seat, Quentin made a mental note to always fly first class in the future- someone with legs as long as his was not meant for the cramped seats in economy.
Oliver shifted at his side, removing the headphones from his ears and folding them up. Lifting his arms up in his own stretch, Quentin couldn't help it as his eyes moved down, watching as the younger man's t-shirt rode up, exposing the well-muscled stomach to the recycled air of the plane. Tearing his eyes away, Quentin focused on placing his book in his hand luggage, pointedly ignoring the smirk Oliver sent his way, having caught the other's staring.
One of the perks of flying first class, other than the outrageous amount of space that came with the overly comfortable reclining chair, the proper French Champagne and the restaurant quality food,was being the first off the aircraft. Stepping into the terminal located on a Hawaiian island of Honolulu, Quentin took a moment to truly take in just where he was- their first vacation together as a couple…
They made good time through the airport, clearing security and collecting their suitcases before making their way out the front of the airport where a waiting Limo was there to collect them. The driver, dressed in black pants and shoes with a bright pink floral top, smiled at them as he loaded their bags in the back before gesturing them to climb in.
Climbing into the back-seat, Quentin had a moment to enjoy the sight of the palm trees outside before his attention was diverted when Oliver ran his hand down the side of his leg. Turning to face the other man, Quentin noted the fond look in the other's eyes before Oliver leant in for a kiss.
Quentin closed his eyes, letting out a soft sigh as Oliver's lips pressed up against his own; he returned the pressure for a moment, just happy to be able to feel the younger's lips. Shifting slightly,Quentin licked at Oliver's lips, encouraging the younger into a deeper kiss.
Oliver responded immediately opening his own mouth, letting their tongues clash against each other. Reaching over, Oliver tugged at Quentin's waist, pulling him forward, and then continued tugging until Quentin was straddling Oliver's hips, his arms wrapping around the older man in place to prevent him from moving.
Quentin chuckled against Oliver's mouth, wrapping his own hands around the back of his partner's head and neck. The buzzing sound caused Quentin to shoot backwards, only Oliver's arms around his waist preventing him from tumbling to the ground. Oliver smiled as he reached over and pushed a small intercom button located on the door.
"Yes?" Oliver spoke sounding a little breathless.
"Just letting you both know that we will be arriving at our destination in 3 minutes," the voice of the driver answered back.
"Thank you," Oliver replied; the arm still wrapped around Quentin gave a quick squeeze before letting go. Quentin scrambled off the younger's lap, face red, readjusting his clothing as he sat back in his seat. Oliver kissed him quickly on the cheek, catching one of Quentin's hands in his own and giving it a squeeze.
They were still holding hands when they exited the limo. Quentin looked around at the seaside cottage that they stood in front of.
"I figured you would enjoy this more than a hotel," Oliver spoke up, tilting his head towards the front door before his smile widened. "We also have a private beach and no neighbours."
"Oh…planning something, are you?" Quentin replied, letting go of Oliver's hand and walking towards the door, glancing back in time to catch Oliver looking him up and down.
Quentin leant back against the pool lounge chair located on the balcony of the cottage, beer in hand as he watched the waves crash on the shore. He smiled to himself and he took a sip of his beer, leaning back to look up at the stars. The sound of the balcony door opening announced Oliver's arrival, the younger man dressed in a soft grey t-shirt and sinfully tight jeans. With his own beer in hand, Oliver walked over,moving so that he was leaning against the railing, looking at Quentin, a soft smile on his face.
They locked eyes for several minutes before Quentin set his beer on the ground and held his hand out for the other to take; Oliver pushed off from the balcony, walking forward to take the offered hand. Quentin shifted on the lounge chair, tugging Oliver so that the younger man was sitting between his legs, his back pressed against his torso. Oliver leant backwards so that his head rested on Quentin's collarbone, the older man's arms wrapped around his stomach.
"You can never see the stars this well in the city," Quentin spoke up, his fingers dancing across Oliver's stomach.
"I would look up at the stars every night when I was on the island… The first night I truly looked up at the stars was the night my dad…" Oliver broke off, grateful when his only response from Quentin was a squeeze around the middle and a kiss on his forehead.
"I would look up and think of everything that I would do differently if I had a chance to do it all again, what I would change, what kind of person I would be… When I was alone I realised what a horrible person I had been, realised how many people I had hurt. My family, my friends, you…"
"Oliver, nothing that happened was your fault. I know you have probably heard that from everyone a million times over, but I don't blame you, your mother doesn't blame you, neither does your sister." Quentin reached up, wiping away the tears in Oliver's eyes.
"To come out of what you went through, not only with the Gambit, but the nightmare of the island. To survive that long and to be able to come back and get your life back together is nothing short of a miracle… I am so proud of you and this is coming from someone who arrested you multiple times."
Oliver offered a weak chuckle, leaning back further into Quentin's arms, taking comfort in the embrace.
"I was a bit of a brat, wasn't I?" he offered up, his body vibrating as Quentin laughed.
"That is putting it very politely. Brat is a very loose term to describe you when you were younger," Quentin continued loosening his hold on Oliver when the younger shifted to look at him.
"A couple of times I used to jump your back fence to sneak into Laurel's room," Oliver confessed, offering Quentin a guilty look.
"I know."
"You knew?" Oliver frowned.
"Who do you think kept rearranging the furniture and leaving out all the garden tools for you to trip over and walk into?" Oliver's eyes widened in realisation.
"Dinah and I used to sit in the kitchen and enjoy a glass of wine whilst listening to you fumble your way around the backyard."
"…What?"
"You were a good source of entertainment," Quentin added, smiling fondly at the younger.
"Yeah, I suppose I deserved that," Oliver pouted as he turned back around to look out across the ocean. A few moments passed before Oliver spoke again, his voice so soft Quentin almost missed it.
"Did you mean it?"
"Mean what?" Quentin gave an encouraging squeeze when Oliver didn't answer.
"That you're proud of me."
"Yes, Oliver, I mean it. I'm proud of you… Your father would be proud of you, too." Quentin smiled as Oliver made a happy sound in the back of his throat. Tightening his hold Quentin leant back into the seat relaxing, taking in the view.
Oliver was the first to wake up the next morning; he lay still for a few moments listening to the waves outside, after a while he opened his eyes, taking in his partner, who was still asleep. Quentin slept on his side, his back pressed up against Oliver's chest, one arm holding Oliver's own against his stomach, the other tucked under his chin.
Oliver smiled; this was their favourite way of sleeping. He had been a bit surprised when he figured out that Quentin preferred to be held when he slept, but he wasn't about to complain; he was more than happy to be able to hold his partner during the night.
As if knowing he was being watched, Quentin shifted, moving from sleep to wakefulness at a speed that indicated that he had perfected it over many years. Rolling over so that they were facing each other,Quentin whispered a quiet good morning, leaning in for a kiss, his hands resting on Oliver's bare chest. Oliver returned the kiss, his own hand moving to slip under the t-shirt Quentin wore when he slept- Quentin had said he preferred to sleep with it on, Oliver was convinced that Quentin was just shy about his own body.
Pulling away, Quentin moved to get up, pausing when Oliver refused to let go. With a huff, Quentin glared down at his partner.
"Come on up," Quentin pushed at Oliver's chest.
"What if I don't want to get up?" Oliver pouted.
"Well, you can stay in bed then; I, on the other hand, want to have breakfast," Quentin continued, shooting the other a look. Oliver chuckled, letting go and allowing Quentin to get out of bed. Rolling off his own side of the bed, Oliver turned around to face Quentin, taking an exaggerated amount of time stretching, smirking as Quentin's eyes darted from arms, to his chest and down to his abs before the eyes left him completely. Quentin's face flushed as he bit down on his lower lip.
"Oh yeah, the beach was definitely the best choice for a destination."
Breakfast was relaxing; the two sat on the balcony, each enjoying a bowl of fruit and Greek yoghurt, Quentin sipping his tea whilst Oliver drank his disgusting looking protein drink.
"What did you want to do today?" Quentin asked, popping a grape in his mouth. Oliver leered in response before breaking in laughter as a grape bounced off his forehead.
"I have been told a hike up Diamond Head is nice; we could do that before heading into Waikiki for lunch," Oliver offered as an option. Quentin nodded his head in agreement, gathering the empty bowls and returning inside.
Twenty minutes later, Quentin was standing outside the cottage, giving Oliver a look that indicated that he was not amused. Oliver grinned from his position straddling a black motorbike, a helmet in each hand.
"You're kidding, right?" Quentin finally spoke up, walking forward and slinging a backpack over his shoulder.
"Nope… have you ridden one before?" Oliver handed over a green helmet, admiring the length of Quentin's legs in the skin-tight compression pants.
"Not since I was your age," Quentin huffed, handing back the green helmet and taking the black one for himself.
Oliver smiled, leaning forward for a quick kiss before pulling the helmet on and starting the bike. He felt Quentin climb on behind him; his arms wrapped around him as he pulled out of the driveway.
The ride up to the mountain went too quickly for Oliver's taste. Quentin stepped off the bike as soon as it came to a stop; removing the helmet and setting it on the bike, Quentin pulled the backpack higher up his shoulders.
"What do you have in there?" Oliver questioned, securing the bike and storing the helmets.
"Water bottles and a large tube of sunscreen… I'm English, we burn," Quentin turned, making a start towards the trek entrance; he managed a few steps before turning back when Oliver failed to follow, an eyebrow raised.
"Just enjoying the view," Oliver leered, moving to catch up with Quentin, watching the familiar blush cover the older man's cheeks. Oliver's smile widened when he felt Quentin reach out and take hold of his hand as they continued walking amongst the crowd of tourists and locals.
Next Chapter up soon