I decided to change the rating on this story to M because of the descriptive scenes between Roy and Oliver.
Red and Green – Part 4
The first thing that Roy realized was that kissing Oliver was nothing like kissing Thea. With Thea, there was no grappling, no resistance. But with Oliver… the first few seconds couldn't even be called a kiss. Oliver jerked his head to one side, avoiding contact with Roy's lips. Roy felt strong nimble fingers biting into his biceps, shoving at him, but he didn't relent. He wrapped one arm around Oliver's back, squeezing him close, and leaned forward. His lips pressed to Oliver's, his tongue sliding between them, demanding entry. The more Oliver fought him, the more turned on Roy became.
Oliver made a muffled sound of protest, which was silenced when Roy slipped his tongue into the archer's mouth. It was at that precise moment that Oliver stopped struggling, frozen with shock and disbelief as Roy's tongue stroked against his own. How had he failed to anticipate this? Surely there had to have been signs, an indication that Roy had desired him in this manner? Was it desire? Or was it domination? And what about Thea?
As soon as the thought of Thea entered Oliver's mind, it immediately vanished as he concentrated on not reacting to the sensations that Roy was igniting within him. He felt too hot. His lips too sensitive. And the palm of Roy's hand pushing against the tense spot between his shoulder blades burned through the fabric of his shirt.
Roy deepened the kiss, forcing Oliver to arch his back over the railing. The feeling of empowerment was almost overwhelming, but the sound of the careless moan that escaped Oliver urged Roy on. Their kiss became smoldering, a wet tongue gliding over swollen lips. Whether Oliver was acting on instinct, or the need for self preservation, Roy couldn't determine. But there was no mistaking that Oliver was no longer a passive participant in this.
They were two men without any conscious thoughts – just the need for touch and closeness, for a brief moment of release.
Roy pulled away to wetly kiss along Oliver's bearded jaw, causing the archer to let out a frustrated groan of desperation. When Roy spared his prey a curious look, he nearly lost complete control at the sight of Oliver Queen enthralled by his ministrations. Oliver's eyes were tightly shut, his lips barely parted. Wanting to hear Oliver moan some more, Roy dragged his tongue from the base of Oliver's throat, up to just behind his left ear. He was rewarded with a whimper that sounded so unlike the tough ass hero that he'd put on a pedestal last year. He nipped at Oliver's earlobe before growling into his ear. "You know, I really had a thing for you in that tight, green leather. But now, I think I prefer you like this. It's more real."
Robbed of the ability to reply, Oliver could only grit his teeth to keep the noise to a minimum. He had no idea what he was doing. Why he was allowing Roy to pleasure him in this way. He wished he could deny it but Roy's powerful arms locking around his body in a crushing embrace, that hungry mouth seeking his out again, did things to Oliver that he had trouble resisting.
But, just as they were getting into their second kiss, the sound of a key being turned in a keyhole yanked both men out of the private little world that they'd lost themselves in.
Roy released Oliver and backed away, nearly falling down the stairs at a dangerous angle when Oliver suddenly shoved him for all he was worth.
"Oliver!" Mrs. Queen cried out in alarm, her keys dangling from one hand, her purse and boutique shopping bags clutched firmly in the other. "What on earth are you doing?!" She'd only seen Oliver push Roy, so she had no idea what had transpired up until that point.
"Reminding Roy of the way things are supposed to be," Oliver snapped at his mother, looking angry and upset while sounding breathless and slightly confused. He hurried down the stairs, past his mother, and fled the mansion before anyone had the nerve to follow him.
"Roy, dear, are you alright?" Mrs. Queen asked in concern.
Leaning nonchalantly on the railing, having regained his balance, Roy grinned at the head of Queen household. "Yeah. No worries." Damn Mrs. Queen and her awful timing. He'd nearly succeeded in coaxing Oliver out of his shell when the matriarchal figure had gone and ruined everything. Roy had seen spooked horses take off at slower speeds than that.
"What were you boys fighting about?"
It really was funny how Mrs. Queen continued to refer to men over the age of twenty as boys. If she only knew what her son had been up to before she'd walked in the door. Roy shrugged as if to dismiss Oliver's violent display. "I just said something to piss him off. That's all."
"You know, when I was your age, nobody used such vulgar language," she sighed, dropping her shopping bags onto the floor and her keys into the little bowl by the entrance.
"You're not even that old, Mrs. Queen."
She smiled, still taken in by Roy's earnest ass kissing, totally unaware of the lethal killing machine that he'd become. And of the fact that Roy wasn't too fond of her now that Oliver was avoiding her like the plague. Whatever had gone on between mother and son had made Oliver a lot more closed and distrusting than he'd been before. And that was saying a lot!
"Well, thank you, Roy. That's sweet of you to say. Were you looking for Thea?"
"Uh… no. I just came by to see Oliver. I've gotta run now."
"Drop by anytime." Mrs. Queen patted Roy on the arm, sending him off with a look of approval.
Down in the lair of the Arrow, deep beneath the nightclub that he'd built above, Oliver stood stiffly with his arms crossed in front of his chest. He'd been standing like that for the past fifteen minutes. Standing there, refusing to think. To allow himself to feel. Because if he did…
"Must you hover?" Oliver's entrusted cyber genius, Felicity Smoak, gave him an accusing look before spinning her chair back around so that she was facing her collection of computer monitors once more. "Sometimes you creep me out. You just stand there. And you don't say anything. Am I the only one who thinks that's weird?"
"No, that's the way he gets when he's brooding." Sara Lance, known to members of the underworld as Black Canary, stalked over to Oliver with a knowing grin. "So, what is it this time? Laurel or your mother?"
"Neither." Oliver shrugged off Sara's comforting hand, not seeing the flicker of hurt that was automatically replaced with a stoic barricade. "Felicity, could you please hurry up with that location."
"What's the hurry? We've spent four days tracking down this cyber stalker. He only attacks on Fridays. That's in two days. Another hour certainly won't - -."
"Felicity!" Oliver warned in his no bullshit tone that translated into 'shut up!' Although he adored and respected Felicity, considering her to be an honorary sister of sorts, her babbling sometimes tested his patience. When it came to hunting down physically or sexually violent predators, Oliver was seriously lacking in the patience area.
"Whoa! What's got you so riled up?" Sara observed Oliver carefully, watched him sift through emotion after emotion before coming up with one that he could deal with – non-emotion.
"Nothing. I just don't want to see another innocent woman get raped."
"And you won't." Felicity adjusted the glasses on the bridge of her nose and went back to her cyber tracking. "I've almost got it."
"Ollie, what's going on?" Sara continued to pry, curiously amused when Oliver's cheeks flushed scarlet as if some forbidden thought had gotten loose in his head.
"I'm not in the mood to discuss it." Oliver began to organize his bow and arrows, getting ready to bolt as soon as Felicity coughed up an address.
"Well, if you do feel like talking about it, I'm here for you," Sara offered supportively.
"Me too! Although, not in that sense. Obviously. The 'for you' part is kind of ambiguous," Felicity clarified as she handed Oliver a sticky note with an address neatly scrawled onto it.
"Thank you. Both of you." As messed up as Oliver felt at the moment, he still felt grateful to have such wonderful people as his friends and allies. "I just need to shoot a few arrows and get it out of my system." He ran into John Diggle on the way up the stairs and paused to trade a few words with him. "Hey, Dig! Could you do me a favor?"
"Sure, man! What do you need? Backup? Firepower?"
"Not exactly. If Roy shows up, could you go a few rounds with him? I think that he needs to increase his training regimen. You know, all that testosterone and mira-kuru can't be good for him."
Diggle made a sour face and visibly deflated. "Why me? If he loses his temper again, I might just wind up losing an eye or a limb."
"Because he acts differently around you."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"It's a good thing. Trust me. See you later!" Oliver made himself scarce before Diggle could reject his newly appointed mission. If there was one thing that Diggle hated, it was playing babysitter. Now, Roy would be kept busy and out of Oliver's hair so that he hone his thought processes and return to what he was good at – protecting his city.
(The antagonist will show up in part 5, and the angsty drama between Roy and Oliver will continue. Perhaps there will be another confrontation… or maybe not. What do you think?)