"Promise to Depart"
Disclaimer: Do you know how many changes I would make if I owned "Arrow"?
It's not their first time together, but it has been awhile.
The last time was before Oliver started dating McKenna Hall. She broke things off with him this morning. It's not the end of the relationship that comes as a surprise, but the fact that the Hood's only role in it was failing to protect her from a bullet.
Tonight, more than ever, is about stress-release. Oliver doesn't want to think about McKenna moving to Coast City (or the rough patches his friendship with Tommy is going through). Quentin wants to forget his recent encounters with his ex-wife. Seeing her would have been bad enough, but that she suggested Sarah's still alive—when Sarah's death was the beginning of the end of their marriage; when she's made no attempt to contact her sister or either of her parents (and how could that not be the first order of business upon a return to civilization)…
Their bodies entwined, they can forget their respective issues for a while.
Dawn is still ages away as Oliver scrambles for his clothes in the detective's bedroom. Brave as both men are out on the city's streets, they have yet to muster the courage to face the morning-after.
As usual, they've hardly exchanged any words tonight, so Oliver is caught off guard when Lance breaks the silence.
"You know, you've got big ones—naming your night club 'Verdant.'" Lance continues before the billionaire can make a pun. "Someone might find that suspicious, seeing as how green is the vigilante's favorite color."
This is dangerous territory. They both know that Quentin knows Oliver's secret, but they both know that as soon as they acknowledge it, the detective will arrest him (again). It is his duty to find the murderer and put him away. None of their nightly encounters can change that.
"Last time I checked, liking the color green wasn't a crime, Detective." Queen's smile doesn't flicker, though mentally he concedes that as covers go, his is a bit flawed.
"Lucky for you," Quentin grunts. He rolls over on the bed, shutting his eyes, dismissing the billionaire. Lance is ready to go to sleep and pretend that this, too, never happened.
Oliver knows this is his cue to leave, but he can't resist riling the other man one more time. He creeps up to the bed and drops a kiss on Quentin's cheek before he can protest.
"Goodnight," Oliver whispers, before swiftly striding from the room.
Author's Note: The name of this short one-shot appropriately comes from a short piece, a prelude by AFI that some of you may know as "Kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep."
If you're hungry for more Quiver, go check out my current fic, "Black Bird; Green Arrow."