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By Bre (dust2dust34)

Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Arrow.
Rating: Explicit
Author's Notes: Part of my Heartbeats Olicity ficlet collection.

Summary: Alternate 3x17 ficlet. It isn't a kiss on the cheek they share in the foundry.

"Thanks."

"For what?" Oliver asked, brow furrowing in confusion as he watched her approach. His heart stuttered when she didn't pause, when she didn't stop. Instead, a slow grin lifted her lips as she said, "For proving me right."

He knew she was going to kiss his cheek. He knew that was where she intended her lips to go by the way she grabbed his arm and lifted herself on her toes to reach him. Oliver knew that, in some place where he was more calm and logical.

He knew that.

It didn't stop him from instinctively turning to catch it, though. He just moved, without a single thought to what he was doing or why he was doing it, he turned into her touch and where her lips were supposed to have brushed his cheek, where she was supposed to have let him go and he was supposed to have never touched her… instead, she kissed his lips. It wasn't beautiful or graceful or anything for the books, but it was. It was everything. Everything he didn't let himself think about, everything he felt in the pit of his stomach whenever he was near her, whenever he could watch her when she wasn't looking, whenever she smiled at him or their eyes caught. But those were mere seconds, seconds to carry him through his decision – his choice – never to be acted on.

Until her lips touched his.

They both froze. He felt her grip on his arm tightening, her stutter of breath. She was pressed so closely to him he could feel her heart racing, humming in time with his own, and then she pulled away. He expected her eyes to be wide, for her to play it off, to say something to alleviate the tension that was filling the room like concrete, but she didn't.

Oh god, she didn't.

Instead Felicity's eyes were hooded, her breathing heavy, her grip tight. His hands tingled with awareness, his body like a live wire waiting to be satiated, and everything since seeing her leaning on Palmer in the office, since seeing them be so light and carefree with each other, laughing and easy and so… so perfect, but with the wrong man…

He snapped.

"Felicity," Oliver breathed and he grabbed her face between his hands, pressing his lips to hers. She made a sound, a quiet unassuming sound and she froze for a split second, long enough for him to realize what he was doing, but then she reacted. She responded.

She moaned against his lips, kissing him back with equal ardor and every single inch of him positively sang. He felt her fingers grappling at his jacket, squeezing it in tight fists before they were pushing underneath, against his chest, pulling him closer. The kiss was everything that hadn't been said since that night of their date, since the scene outside QC, since the hospital – everything that he had wanted but had denied himself for so long.

It had been the right decision, he knew this, but he couldn't stop. He'd wanted her for so long, he'd needed her for so long, and she was here.

Everything became instinct. She dropped her purse with a loud clang as he moved to shove her jacket off her shoulders. Her hands dragged down to the hem of his shirt, pushing up underneath it and he hissed when her nails scratched at his abdomen, at his jeans, tugging him closer.

He didn't realize he was moving them until she stumbled, her lips never leaving his, and Oliver swooped down, tugging her dress up to lift her up into his arms. She said something – his name – before her lips were on his again, her arms around his neck, her nails scraping at his scalp as they carded through his hair.

Every inch of him was so alive – he'd thought being near her was a drug, but this was so much more. She was everything, the one to challenge him, to love, to live with him, to be with him… everything.

Her back hit a stone column somewhere, he didn't even know where he had walked them, but neither cared. Her hands were moving down, tugging at his clothes as they nipped at each other's lips, and her deft fingers found his belt. She fumbled with it for a second before he hiked her up higher and braced her against the wall, his hands flying to his belt to do it for her. He had the belt undone and his jeans unzipped before either could think about what was happening.

For so long he'd denied himself of her. Loved her from afar, knowing she deserved so much better, knowing he could never give her the life she truly deserved in this world, be everything she deserved, but just this once… just this once, he needed to be selfish. He needed her, and she was here, needing him back just as strongly, and he wouldn't have stopped for anything in the world.

"Oliver," she whispered, grasping his shoulders and he released his cock, pressing himself between her legs where he was met with a thin barrier. She shoved her hand between them and pressed the material aside, and he pressed the back of his hand against the wet heat there, his eyes closing with a deep groan.

"Don't stop," she said, pulling back. He looked at her, and she cupped his cheek, both of them pausing as she met his eyes. She shook her head, eyes brimming with emotions he'd never seen reflected so clearly back at him, repeating, "Don't stop, Oliver."

Without a word, he found her entrance and thrust in. She groaned at the shallow depth, her eyes nearly rolling closed, but she kept them open, kept them locked on his as he gritted his teeth.

"Please," she said, nodding her head rapidly, something so much more than anything physical passing between them before he nodded back.

And then he thrust home.

It was powerful and quick – it was months, months, of pent up emotions, frustration and anger and pain and loss. It was like they had been on the brink since that first night, waiting for each other, waiting to finish what had just started to begin before everything blew up in their face.

He growled her name, pressing her up against the wall, his hips pistoning against her, and she keened against him, pressing her chest into his, grasping his shoulders. His lips found her pulse point, kissing up to her jaw and she pulled his head up, their lips crashing together.

He felt the beginnings of the tingle in the base of his spine, every nerve in his body starting to burn as his crisis fast approached. He braced her against the pillar, reaching between them and finding the sensitive little nubbin that had her gasping, his name falling from her lips over and over until she fell. She came with a sharp yell, her back bowing, her silken walls clamping down on him, and he lost all control, nailing her to the wall as he thrust into her, harder and harder until his own orgasm shattered through him.

"Felicity," he gasped, hugging her to him as tightly as he could. She said something that he couldn't hear past the rush of white noise in his head, but he did feel her hands grasping the back of his neck, felt her fingers on the side of his face as she cradled him between her legs, and he shivered at her touch.

For the longest time, he could only think one thing:

Home.

The End

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