First off, this chapter is going to change the content rating on this collection in a big way. Those of you with an objection to smut should leave now. Second, I've been working on this for awhile. I always wanted to do a follow-up to that 3rd chapter and this direction felt both surprising and logical. Plus I'm giving Felicity what the show has denied her for three seasons.
Just one last quick note on Oliver's characterization before we get down to business. Remember this is him without the island, the promiscuous man slut version. I think there's 2 ways you can go about him as a lover in that case: terrible or aficionado. I went with the latter here.
The place clears out by 10:30. So Felicity hops up onto a shelf behind the counter to rest her feet while they talk.
"So the girl who stood you up, you have any idea why she didn't show?" she asks.
"Um, yeah," Oliver mutters, averting his eyes and running a hand through his hair.
"You did something bad, didn't you?" she asks, tilting her head and giving him a look of admonishment.
"It definitely wasn't good," he admits, though that's not entirely true. He doesn't so much regret his time with Sara as the getting caught part. They had fun.
"You cheated, didn't you?" she guesses and he frowns in response. "So...? Spill." He stares at her a moment, knowing the truth will hurt his chances, but then decides to hell with it. The cheating probably turned her off anyway.
"I slept with her sister," he admits and her eyebrows shoot up in surprise.
"Wow," she says. "You seriously thought she would take you back after that?"
"Worth a shot," he says with a shrug.
"You're lucky all she did was stand you up. I would have pushed you into traffic. Or hacked into all of your electronics more likely. You get what I'm saying."
"I think Laurel prefers to delete my number and never speak to me again," he replies and saying it out loud, he really wonders how he could have fooled himself into thinking she would show up tonight.
"What about the sister?" Felicity asks, interrupting his thoughts. "Are you still gonna see her?"
"Well, I haven't talked to her," he admits. "But I don't want to date Sara."
"Sounds like you don't really want to date anyone," she mutters. He opens his mouth to object, but the ring of the bell on the door interrupts him.
"Hey, Kate," Felicity says and jumps off the counter.
"Hey, babe," a brunette in the same waitress uniform as Felicity says and Oliver feels disappointed that he somehow read this girl wrong. "Creepy guy come in yet?"
"A while ago," Felicity replies.
"Yes!" the girl exclaims and pumps her fist in the air. "You have class early, right?
"Yeah, I won't be back until the afternoon."
"OK. I'm gonna go put my stuff in the back and then you can go."
"Alright," she says with a quick nod. She turns to Oliver when they're alone again and smiles.
"Well, I really liked talking with you," she says with a nervous smile, setting down his check.
"Yeah, me too," Oliver replies, taking out his wallet. "Keep it," he says when he sets down a wad of cash much larger than his meager bill.
"Wow, thanks," she says. "And thanks for keeping me company tonight. Gets kinda boring in here sometimes. Burt's a good cook, but not much for conversation," she adds and points a thumb at the man scowling to himself in the kitchen. "I was actually surprised you didn't head off to the nearest club and find a girl to get your mind off your ex as soon as you realized she wasn't coming."
"Well, to be honest," he starts, ducking his head as he puts his wallet away to hide his embarrassment, "before I realized you were gay, I was sorta hoping you might be that girl."
"What?!" Felicity exclaims, fumbling as she drops the pen and notepad she uses to take orders.
"Yeah, I mean, usually I'm better at telling—"
"I'm not gay," she interrupts, pushing her glasses up her nose as she straightens up again.
"Really?" Oliver asks, his interest coming back full force. "You and that girl aren't...?"
"Kate?" Felicity says incredulously. "No. No, no, no. She's my roommate. Though you're not the first person to make that mistake," she adds, staring off into space a moment before refocusing on him a moment later. "Wait a second," she says, "you were making a pass at me even though you literally just told me your last girlfriend broke up with you because you slept with her sister?"
Oliver gives his most charming shrug in response.
"Wow, that is...that is bold," she says and he's pretty sure there's at least a hint of admiration underneath the censure.
"So does that mean you aren't interested?" he asks.
She laughs and gives him a look, but before she can respond, her friend comes back.
"Alright, Smoaky, you're free," she says and then pauses when she sees she's interrupted them.
Felicity glances between them and then considers Oliver a moment before holding up a hand and saying, "wait here."
"OK," he agrees, smiling as he watches her go. She smiles back at him a moment before turning and sharing one of those wide-eyed, pointed looks with the brunette that he's seen women do when they want to say a whole bunch of things without actually speaking.
The Kate girl turns to look at him once Felicity is out of the room, tilting her head and eyeing him.
"You're Oliver Queen," she says as she walks behind the counter.
"In the flesh," he replies and spreads his arms.
"Mmm," she hums, looking him up and down. "Felicity said you came in here sometimes, but I didn't really think you'd slum it just for good pie."
"People make a lot of bad assumptions about me," he says with a shrug.
"Right. Like that your haircut looks better in real life than in photos."
"What's wrong with my hair?" he asks defensively.
"It just doesn't fit you," she replies. "It's nothing personal. At least you've got other things going on. Not every guy can pull off long hair."
"I'll keep that in mind," he says with a frown, though he won't really. What does this chick know anyway?
"Ready?" Felicity asks, returning from the back.
"Yeah," Oliver replies, grabbing his jacket off the back of a chair.
"Have a good night," she says to Kate with a wave.
"You too," she replies and unsubtly waggles her eyebrows. Felicity blushes and smiles shyly up at Oliver as he holds the door open for her. He follows her out and they walk down the steps together then pause on the sidewalk.
"So...did you drive here?" she asks.
"Took a cab," Oliver replies.
"Really? I thought you'd have some fancy sports car."
"My parents stopped buying me cars after I wrecked the second one," he admits. She gives him a look over the top of her glasses that he's seen many times on his mother and Laurel, but they usually don't smile when they wear it.
"Where's your car?" he asks with a smirk.
"I walked. Our apartment's not far from here," she explains and points down the street.
"You were planning to walk home alone in this neighborhood at this time of night?" he asks, shocked.
"I do it all the time," she says with a shrug.
"Now that is bold. Let me walk you home," he offers, holding out a hand for her to lead the way. She smiles, ducks her head and sets off.
They walk in silence for the first block or so. Felicity seems to look anywhere but at him as she fidgets with the straps of her purse while Oliver simply watches her, wondering why she's gone quiet when she's barely stopped talking for the last few hours.
"So—" he starts, only to have her interrupt him with a rushed, "so is this is just about sex?"
"Excuse me?" he asks, taken aback.
"This whole flirty-flirt act, talking with me four hours and walking me home—you're doing it because you're hoping to get laid, right?" He considers her a moment, trying to think of what he can say that won't sound awful.
"Well, I did really like talking to you over pie," he offers, which earns him a moue and an eye-roll.
"OK, fine, but it's really about sex, right?"
"Isn't everything?" he replies with a smile, hoping she finds it charming. She considers him a moment, her face scrunching, and then breathes a soft, "OK."
"What?" he asks, even more surprised.
"OK," she repeats more firmly. "Let's do it," she adds and then blushes before she takes a deep breath and starts again. "Listen, you're obviously not looking for a relationship and I just got out of one—though not as recently as you, of course. So why don't we have some mutually beneficial fun? Finals are coming up and I could use the stress relief. No strings, no feelings, just sex. Then we go back to our lives and maybe we act all weird around each other when you come into the diner from now on."
He turns to face her and steps in close, raising his arms to run his hands down her arms.
"Who says we have to be awkward after?" he asks, smirking down at her.
"Well," she starts, stepping closer and fiddling with the front of his jacket and she stares shyly at his chest, "I don't know. Maybe we won't mesh physically or you'll feel weird about coming into the diner with your girlfriend if you get her back or...hey, you've been tested recently right?" she asks, finally looking up into his eyes. "Because if the rumors are true about how much you get around, then sleeping with you might be a health risk."
"Ouch," he says, only half joking.
"Safety first," she replies and he can't help but laugh.
"Clean bill of health," he promises and raises a hand. "Scout's honor."
"As if they'd let you in," she quips and then her smile falters a bit. "So what do you think?" she asks.
Oliver doesn't answer. Instead, he closes the space between them, takes her chin in his hand and gently presses his lips to hers.
The kiss is soft and sweet and he likes the taste of her—he'd like more. He pulls back after a moment and finds her looking up at him through her eyelashes. Unconsciously, her tongue darts out to lick her lips and Oliver can't imagine how he could turn her down.
"How close are we to your place?" he asks, voice husky.
"Close," she says lowly. She wraps her hand around his and leads the way, soon turning to climb the stoop of a nice if slightly rundown older building.
She drops his hand to open the door and he presses against her back, gripping her hips in both hands. She pushes back into him as she pulls open the door and then escapes his grasp as she walks through it, smiling slyly back at him over her shoulder as she moves toward the central staircase. He returns the smile and quickly follows her inside. He intends to catch up to her, put his hands on her again, but when he reaches the stairs, she's just far enough ahead of him that he gets a perfect view of her ass and he thinks that perhaps patience is a virtue in this particular case.
Oliver does catch up, however, when they reach the top of the stairs, grabbing a handful of Felicity's ass and squeezing until she makes a small noise in the back of her throat. He loosens his grip, smoothes his hand over the curved flesh and feels himself getting hard at the prospect of touching her without fabric in the way. The thought becomes even more enticing when she stops at a door halfway down the hall and he presses against her. He ducks his head to kiss her neck, biting her skin. She hisses in a breath and he hears her slam a hand against the door a moment before pushing it open. He follows her in and kicks the door closed behind them, reluctantly letting her go so she can slip off her coat. He does the same and tosses his coat next to her things on a nearby table. He blinks rapidly as she turns on a hall light and finds her wringing her hands.
"Um, so, my bedroom is that way," she says, pointing down a hall, "but we don't have to go straight there if you wanna, like, have a few drinks in the living room. Though I guess we have to move into the bedroom at some point. Kate won't be home until morning, but she wouldn't appreciate it if we—"
He stops her from going on with a kiss. In Oliver's experience, talking is rarely the best way to get over awkwardness in these situations. Action is always the better solution. Felicity doesn't seem to mind, though, as her hands come to rest on the sides of his face, mirroring him.
Oliver starts walking them in the direction Felicity said her bedroom was in, but she's a bit short and he can't quite do that and kiss her in the way he wants at the same time. So, he drops his hands to her waist and picks her up, feeling pleased with himself when Felicity makes a sound of surprise before wrapping her legs around him. Women always love when he does that. He tries the first door on their left as he walks down the hall and starts to turn into it when she grabs his hand and pulls away from him.
"Bathroom," she says a little breathlessly. "It's the last door on the right," she adds and turns to point, pushing their hips closer in the process. He grunts and tightens his arm around her waist and she smirks down at him, looking even more pleased with herself as she brings both hands down onto his shoulders and uses them as leverage to grind even harder against him.
"Fuck," he mutters, his free hand flying to her waist to direct her to do it again. She bites her bottom lip and he wonders how she ever could have thought they wouldn't have fun together.
Oliver loosens his grip around her body until he's sure Felicity can hold herself up and then slides his hands to the front of her waitress uniform so he can start unbuttoning it. He can't believe she's wearing it. It's like something out of a movie—sky blue material with a white collar and buttons that go almost the full length of the dress. But he guesses it makes sense for that place. The outift has clearly been passed from waitress to waitress over the years if its frayed edges are any indication. Still, she makes it work for her, or maybe her legs would look that good in any dress.
He's undone as many buttons as he can reach by the time he walks them into her bedroom. He sets her down and kicks the door closed behind them, but instead of finishing the job, she reaches up and slips the sleeves down her shoulders one arm at a time and then wriggles until the material pools at her feet—her eyes locked on his the whole time. And while he wants to walk to her and touch her bare skin, it won't matter if he's not at least semi-naked too. So, he kicks off his shoes and then reaches back to pull off his shirt. When he can see her again, she's giving him that sort of slack-jawed, desirous look he's seen many times before. Oliver would be lying if he said that the reason he spends so much time in the gym cultivating that six-pack isn't because of how much he likes seeing that look.
"Wow," she says, shaking her head a bit as she refocuses on his face. "You're..." she adds and then just raises an eyebrow and shakes her head in admiration instead of finishing. Oliver is about to laugh when he's distracted by the way she reaches back and pulls the band out of her hair, letting it fall in loose waves around her shoulders.
"You too," he says and is so caught up in admiring her that he almost topples over while he's pulling off his socks.
"Thanks," she replies and then tries to hide that she's laughing at him by leaning over to place one hand on her bed to steady herself as she kicks off her shoes. Felicity manages to toe off one sock before Oliver reaches her, but he wraps his hands around her waist–the skin warm and soft–and picks her up before she can remove the other. She gasps in surprise but quickly wraps her legs around his hips and her arms around his neck. He smooths his hand down her leg until he reaches the material of her sock and then slides it off her foot, twirling it a second before flinging it across the room. She's still giggling about it when she leans forward and presses her lips to his again and he's smiling as he lays her down on the bed.
Oliver has always enjoyed the intimacy of the first skin-on-skin contact, the soft, supple warmth of a woman's skin pressed against his, but he doesn't get quite as much as he'd like as he settles himself on top of Felicity because she's still wearing her bra. So, he slides his hands up her back, enjoying the way she grinds their hips together as she arches her back, and unhooks her bra. He pushes up onto his knees and brings his hands around her body, sliding them under the loose fabric of her bra and grazing the edges of both nipples with his thumbs. She bites her bottom lip and leans up slightly, wanting more, and Oliver files that information away.
He likes to take his time with the women he fucks, explore them, find out who they are through their bodies and what they like. So, after he helps her pull off her bra, he cups both breasts in his hands, kneading them as he leans down to kiss her again and feeling pleased with himself at the way she sighs when he adds extra pressure on her nipples. He releases her immediately though, sliding his hands up her arms to interlace their fingers and keep them pressed to the mattress when his lips leave hers to trail open-mouthed kisses down her neck and chest. She whimpers when he takes one nipple into his mouth and, a little later, he feels her nails dig into the back of his hands when he lightly bites it. He pulls back and blows softly on the damp skin, watching it pucker and making her squirm underneath him and then moves to the other side to repeat the process. He lets go of her hands after, dragging them down her arms again so they can pick up where his mouth left off as he kisses lower, taking special care to linger at her stomach when he realizes how ticklish she is.
Oliver lets go of her breasts, giving each nipple one last pinch before he does so that Felicity's hips buck slightly just as his mouth reaches the top hem of her panties—a grey, cotton, practical number. She probably wouldn't have worn if they'd met in a club or a bar like most of the women he sleeps with who aren't named Lance. The sudden thought of the sisters is unwelcome at this particular moment considering this is exactly the type of behavior that lost him Laurel in the first place. But he doesn't want to think about that right now.
So, he pushes off the bed and drops to his knees at its foot. Felicity lets out a startled yelp as he grabs her by the hips and drags her to the edge then moans softly as he presses his mouth to her inner thigh, sucking the flesh between his teeth before letting go and dragging his tongue across her skin as he moves up. His scruff scrapes against her and she gasps softly. Interesting. Oliver usually likes to be clean-shaven, but he's been too busy trying to convince Laurel to take him back the last few days to devote too much time to his appearance. He doesn't like that thought either and looks up to remind himself who he isn't with.
He finds Felicity staring down at him over her breasts in clear anticipation of what he'll do next. Now that brings him back to the moment. He keeps eye contact as he pushes back and then hooks the fingers of both hands under the fabric of her panties at her hips, sliding them off and tossing them away. He looks down at her, finally naked, and is surprised to notice that she's not fully shaved either.
"Sorry," Felicity says, drawing his attention to her face as she squirms a bit. "I haven't been with anybody lately so I—" She's interrupted when Oliver roughly throws her legs over his shoulder, slips his tongue inside her and runs it from bottom to top, pausing a moment to flick her clit. He pulls away and smirks at the way she's staring down at him.
"I like the way you taste," he says, mostly because it's true, but partly because he doesn't want her to feel self-conscious. Oliver's never really cared what women do or don't decide to do in terms of grooming. It doesn't really change the experience much, just tells him more about each woman.
He presses his lips to the soft skin of Felicity's inner thighs and snakes his hands up her sides to find her breasts, rubbing her nipples as he moves his mouth back to where she wants, at least, close to it. He gently runs his tongue up the creases of her thighs and places kisses on her outer lips, letting his tongue barely slip inside her to taste the building wetness. Her fingers tangle in his hair, urging him on.
"Oliver," Felicity begs, voice breathy, and he barely has time to feel pleased with himself before another unwanted thought invades his mind. Nobody calls him that. He's been Ollie as long as he can remember. Laurel only ever calls him by his full name when she's angry at him. He imagines what he's doing right now would probably make her even angrier than she already is. Damn it, why can't he just enjoy himself for a night?
Frustrated, Oliver seeks out Felicity's clit with his tongue, locking his lips around it and sucking it hard into his mouth. Her reaction is immediate and while the way she gasps, arches her back and fists both hands in the sheets makes Oliver wish he'd taken off his pants before he started, he regrets rushing. She's clearly more sensitive than he expected and now he's messed up the slow build he likes.
He recommits himself to taking his time, sliding his tongue down to circle her opening and dipping his tongue in, fucking her with it before he moves back up to gently circle her clit. She starts to tremble beneath him and her breathing gets heavier so he moves back down, not ready to make her come yet. When he repeats the process, he tries flicking her clit instead and the reaction isn't as strong. She whines when he retreats again and he takes a moment to smile to himself. The next time he returns his mouth to her clit, he circles it with his tongue and then flicks it instead when it seems she's getting too close before retreating entirely.
He keeps that pattern going–advance, retreat, advance, retreat–until he's pretty she can't take much more. The next time he pulls away from her clit, Oliver release one of her breasts too and slides his hand down her body. Instead of using his tongue this time, he uses his fingers, pushing two inside her. Her back arches off the bed and she moans. He starts to move them in and out of her, matching his pace to her breathing as it grows quicker. He leans forward again and circles her clit with his tongue, feeling her flutter around his fingers as he does.
"Please," Felicity begs, barely able to gasp the word between breaths. And Oliver complies. He sucks her clit into his mouth and flicks his tongue against it at the same pace as he curls his fingers inside her. She soon cries out in the most maddeningly wonderful way and Oliver has to push up higher onto his knees so he can keep going as she arches up off the bed, extending her orgasm as long as possible.
He pulls away after she starts to come down, but only long enough to stand and take off his pants before he's moving her up the bed and spreading her legs so he can lie between them. She doesn't hesitate to kiss him as he leans down and he slips his tongue inside her mouth just as she slips her hand between them and takes hold of his cock. He grunts and shuts his eyes, focusing on how good it feels as she strokes him too slow to do anything but tease. When Oliver opens his eyes, he finds Felicity smirking up at him with full knowledge of what she's doing. He leans down and kisses her hard and doesn't stop until he leaves her breathless. He trails his lips down her chin to her neck and then up again to nibble lightly on her ear lobe.
"How do you want it?" he whispers.
"Can I get on top?" she asks, almost bashfully, which Oliver finds sort of cute considering what her hand is doing.
He wraps his arms around her and rolls them over so quickly that Felicity lets out a startled, "oh!" when she lands on top of him. He smirks up at her and she smirks back before she sits back on her heels and wraps her fingers around his cock again. She starts to stroke him and he's wondering why she's still smirking at him until she leans down and drags her tongue from base to tip. His head falls back onto the pillows as he sighs.
Now it's his turn to fist his hands in the sheets. He closes his eyes as she swirls her tongue around his tip before taking him into her mouth. He's just thinking how good it feels when she pulls away, but he only has a moment to feel disappointed before she moves her mouth to his balls and strokes him with her hand again, picking up the pace. She keeps that pace going when she starts to suck him again, her hand moving to massage his balls. It feels amazing, but Oliver's not sure he can take much more. He wouldn't mind finding out if she'd let him come in her mouth, but that's not the relief he's looking for tonight. He wants to fuck.
"Felicity," he groans, trying and failing to stop his hips from rocking with her movements. She takes him in as far as she can and stays there and just as he's reaching to pull her away, she looks up at him through her eyelashes and does it herself. He places his hand on her chin and runs his thumb over the mischievous, sexy smile on her lips. She crawls up the bed and leans over him to reach into the bedside table and Oliver takes the opportunity lean up on his elbows and take a nipple into his mouth, hearing her gasp before she sits back deliciously onto his cock. He feels a pang of disappointment when he hears he familiar tear of a condom wrapper. Oliver prefers to pull out, but he supposes it's probably a good idea. The last thing he needs when he's trying to get his girlfriend back is to make a mistake with some diner waitress.
Any disappointment he feels is quickly forgotten, though, when Felicity sits up on her knees, firmly grips his cock in her hand and locks eyes with him as she rolls the condom on. She repositions herself over him and Oliver grabs her hips as she slides down onto him, groaning at the feel of it. She bites her lip as she comes to rest on his lap, pausing a moment to get used to his size.
Felicity starts slow, rocking herself back and forth. His fingers dig into her hips as she moves as Oliver struggles not to turn her over and pound into her. She braces herself with her hands on his stomach and pushes up slow before sliding back down. She does it again and again and again, faster each time, until her breaths are coming out in high moans and he's panting. But just as Oliver thinks he might come, she stops and starts rocking back and forth at that achingly slow pace again. He pushes up onto his knees a bit to try to thrust into her, but she pushes off him a bit, placing a hand on his chest and giving him a look he wouldn't dare disobey.
When she starts to ride him again, the strokes are shallow, teasing. Considering how terrible this night started, Oliver is pretty pleased with how things have turned out. He never would have guessed the cute little diner waitress would be such a fun lay. He watches her moving above him–bottom lip trapped between her lip as she moves–and he decides he'd like to be biting that lip instead. He reaches up, wraps her hand behind the back of her neck and pulls her down, kissing her roughly. She moans into his mouth as she moves her hips faster and Oliver grips her ass, urging her on.
He tries to resist taking control as long as he can, but the next time Oliver bends his knees and thrusts hard into her, he gets a sharp cry of pleasure in return. Felicity pushes up onto her hands to meet his thrust next time and they both moan at the feeling. They move together, faster and faster, their movements becoming more erratic until she suddenly screams his name and her nails dig into his chest.
Oliver watches Felicity as she comes and God how he loves that. Making girls scream in pleasure, watching them lose control, feeling them come around him—that's why he has such a hard time staying faithful. He enjoys this moment too much.
He thrusts sharply into her a few more times and then comes too, groaning. They continue to rock against each other until their movements stop completely, collapsing onto the bed to catch their breaths. Still panting, Oliver takes her face in both hands and kisses her, soft but passionate. One of her hands comes up to grip his arm while she uses the other to push up off him. He lets go of her long enough to throw the condom in the nearby trash and then pulls her back to him, enjoying how soft and swollen her lips are now as they kiss.
She eventually pulls away and lays back on the pillows. He does the same and reaches out the hand laying between them to touch her again, his fingers tracing patterns on her stomach. She turns and smiles at him, looking sated and tired, before she sighs and looks back at the ceiling and he follow suit.
"The rumors are true," Felicity mutters to herself, so low he barely hears it.
"What?" Oliver asks, turning his head to look at her.
"Oh, um, nothing," she says, averting her eyes and looking bashful despite what they've just finished doing.
"No, you said something about rumors, what did you mean?" he insists, turning on his side and propping his head up on his hand.
She twists the top hem of the sheets in her hands, still not looking at him before she answers. "Uh, just, um, that I've heard rumors about how good you are in bed. Which you shouldn't really be that surprised by considering how much you get around. And–not to inflate your ego which doesn't need it–they're definitely true."
"Glad to hear," he says and reaches out to turn her toward him so he can kiss her. "So what exactly are these rumors?" he asks a moment later, genuinely interested. Felicity turns fully onto her side to stare at him and Oliver imagines that if she were still wearing her glasses, she would be giving him that look over the top of them.
"Come on," he says enticingly, but she only frowns at him more. "I'm sure I could find a way to make it worth your while," he says, his hand sliding down.
"As much fun as I'm sure that would be," she says, stopping his hand's progress, "I've got a class really early in the morning and I need to get to sleep stat or I'll be beyond the help of even coffee."
"Oh, OK," Oliver says, surprised and disappointed. Usually, he's the first to make an excuse to go.
She rolls away and sits up, making the absurd decision to make sure the sheets cover her as she finds the underwear he took off her and then pulls on an oversize shirt from the top of a nearby dresser. Oliver has never been one for modesty and stands up, blocking Felicity's way as she tries to leave the room. She gives him a startled look and he leans down and kisses her before she can say anything. Her hands come up to his stomach, the nails digging in slightly, before she pulls away to give him a slightly dazed look.
"I had fun," he says lowly, hoping he might convince her to have a little more, despite her early class.
"Me too," she says, blushing, and then steps back, dashing his hopes. "Well, good luck with your girlfriend situation," she says out of nowhere. "Maybe the two of you will be back together by the next time I see you in the diner again."
"Maybe," he agrees, though he doesn't believe it.
"You can find your way out, right? I want to jump in the shower and get ready for bed."
"Yeah," he agrees, feeling that same, unexpected disappointment again.
"Great," Felicity says with a smile and then scoots around him to open the door.
Oliver stares after her until she disappears into the bathroom down the hall and then heaves a sigh before starting to collect his clothes. He hears the shower turn on just as he finishes getting dressed and suddenly gets the strange urge to undress again and climb in there with her. He doesn't know why he's feeling so attached to this girl and decides getting distance between them is a good idea. There's an odd feeling gnawing at him as he descends the steps of her building, but before he can analyze what it is, his phone interrupts his thoughts. He takes it out of his pocket and frowns when he sees Tommy's face lit up on the screen. He considers not answering for a moment, but then realizes he'd prefer his friend to whatever he was thinking before. He hears the unmistakable sounds of a party as he brings the phone to his ear.
"So did she show?" Tommy yells, the last two words slurred by alcohol.
"No," Oliver grumbles.
"I told you!" he yells, before Oliver can elaborate. "Well, stop moping at that awful diner and come have fun."
"I don't know, man, I'm kind of tired—"
"Shut up!" Tommy yells. "I'm not taking 'no' for an answer. I'll text you the address," he adds and then hangs up.
Oliver frowns down at his phone in annoyance and notices the clock. It's not even 1 a.m. yet. The night is young and he would never end it this early. Besides, this newly minted day is already off to a pretty strong start. So why end it?
His phone buzzes with the promised address (with surprisingly few misspellings) and he considers it a moment before texting back "on my way."
Thanks for reading and leave some feedback if you have a second. I'll be posting 1 or 2 drabbles a day for the next few.