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2017-12-23
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Dancing Queen

Summary:

Barry makes an awful pun and Oliver makes an impulsive proposal.

Notes:

Arrow S5/ Flash S3 AU. Laurel's alive and Sam came back to Starling with William.

Apologies for the amount corniness contained herein.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

 

When Mayor Queen's driver pulls up to his boss' apartment building, Oliver is still on his phone. He's been on his phone or in meetings all day, putting out fires, being sneered at by experienced Councilmen, harangued by the city treasury and being coached through dizzyingly complicated legalese by Laurel. He is trying not to drown in it all but can't ignore his night job either, especially considering a certain businessman who had turned up, thinking to offer the new and overwhelmed young mayor a tempting carrot and a large stick. Oliver has been urgently co-ordinating with Diggle and Felicity for the Green Arrow to divest the gentleman of both, post-haste.

His child's mother calling him to demand satisfaction is the icing on today's cake.

"Yes, Samantha, I understand this is the third time-," he absently waves the driver off, juggling his briefcase and files. "I know William was disappointed at missing his weekend with me - yes, I realize that - Sam, I just got sworn in as mayor! - well, yeah it was three months ago but - yeah, I'm still at my night job but I am being careful - yes, I am taking him to the Cardinals game this weekend - I'll make it up him, Samantha, I promise - I'm not lying to him!"

Samantha isn't done with him until he's at the doorstep of the apartment he now shares with Barry. Who had moved to Starling to be with him ("I can be in Central in 10 minutes, Oliver") but who, to Oliver's eternal guilt, has barely seen him this week, what with work and vigilante-ing ("That's still not a word, Barry.") and respective family commitments. He's two hours later than he said he would be today as well.

Oliver unlocks the door, weary apology on his lips, expecting to find takeout on the counter and a speedster flopped forlornly on the sofa, flipping through the cable channels.

What he does find is the delicious smell of baking pervading the apartment, along with the strains of Grease and Barry singing along into a broom. He's in his socks and Spiderman boxers, wearing one of Oliver's t-shirts that hangs so large off his slender frame that it makes him look like a misshapen manta ray. There's icing sugar on his nose and his hair is still fluffy from a shower.

"Better shape up, cause you need a man..." he spins around á la John Travolta, does a double take when he sees Oliver and bursts into a smile like sunshine, continuing without missing a beat - "and my heart is set on you!" flinging his arm out dramatically to point at him. The complete dork.

"You're the one that I want, you are the one I want," Barry sings blithely into his makeshift mic, hustling up to him, "ooh ooh ooh," shimmying from side to side. Oliver grabs him by those enticing hips to pull him in and kiss him as soundly as he can through both their grins. He tastes like icing sugar and almonds.

"What's all this?" asks Oliver when they break apart, gesturing to the kitchen island scattered with baking supplies and trays of fresh-baked doughnuts.

"Well," Barry leads Oliver by the hand to show him his handiwork, steps still bouncing, "I figured you'd be in hot water with Samantha because you had to cancel your last weekend with William 'cause of that thing with the vampire cult -"

They have vampires now, apparently. Because the world isn't already ridiculous enough. "Was that Star City weirdness or Central?"

"Neither, they turned out to be based out of Keystone. You were the one who rolled out the magic stuff, not me. Anyway. Samantha doesn't understand about vampires so I figured she'd be on the war path -"

"She is."

"So your intrepid superhero boyfriend breezed by William's school and found out his class is having a bake sale!" A grown man should not look that much like an adorable labrador that had brought back the frisbee. "And William says Samantha is pants at baking, so if you ride in on your white horse with two dozen homemade doughnuts -"

"I'd earn back some brownie points."

"Exactly. And it makes your interest look more proactive! Which it is!" Barry hurries to clarify as Oliver's face clouds, "You're just really swamped, Oliver. You'd bake all day for William if you had time. But you do have a speedster boyfriend to help out so...I'm just pinch hitting."

Oliver is awash with tenderness and wonder at his boyfriend, bustling around full of effervescent energy.

"Thanks, Barr. You're amazing," he reels him in close by his waist and gently kisses the icing off his nose.

Barry looks pleased with himself. "I am."

"You look like you're almost done." Oliver looks around regretfully.

"Yes, but you can still help me put the icing and sprinkles on the last batch. I know you love them, you lying health food freak!" Barry smirks and pushes the bowl of icing and bag of sprinkles at Oliver, who gladly takes off his coat and rolls up his sleeves.

"Laurel called and told me you'd be held up at work, so I ate and put the leftovers in the fridge for you." Barry continues fluidly dancing around him, opening cupboards and tossing cutlery in the sink.

"That's good. I was afraid you'd have waited for me."

"Babe, I'm a speedster," Barry snorts. "I'd die if I waited for you to eat. This stomach waits for no man, sorry. Not even the one I love."

"Stomach first, man second," Oliver agrees. "I have always suspected this about you."

"Yes. I only love you cause you feed me," Barry nods. He attempts to scoop up some more icing with his finger, only to be swatted away by Oliver. "Hey! That was my icing first!"

"And now its my icing and my doughnut," says Oliver sternly. "Keep those thieving hands to yourself, greedy."

Barry pouts injuredly at him. "Is this love?"

Oliver tugs him close, smears icing on his lips and kisses him in answer. "I don't know. Is it?"

"Mmmm," Barry noses his ear, "and how was your day?" he inquires, wrapping his long manta ray arms around him and trapping him in his own t-shirt.

Oliver buries his face in his lover's hair and huffs. "I don't even want to talk to about it."

Barry's shoulders slump. "Same," he whispers. "I only got through today so I could come home to you."

They hold each other close for a long moment before Barry breaks away. "How about we just not talk about anything serious and concentrate on William's doughnuts?"

"I'll focus on his doughnuts," Oliver leers playfully, letting his hand slide below his boyfriend's waist. "You were in the middle of something when I interrupted. Please continue."

"What?" Barry looks at him befuddled. "You're serious?"

"I'm the mayor, Barry. I'm always serious."

"You want me to dance for you? While you decorate doughnuts?"

"Yup." Oliver smirks and gooses Barry, making him yelp and wiggle away. "Entertain me, serf. Go on!"

Barry gapes at him and then, when he continues to look deadly serious, starts scrolling through the song menu, pouting. An evil grin suddenly comes over his face and -

"Friday night and the lights are loooow..."

Oliver instantly regrets everything. "Okay no wait, I take it back - Barry, no! You know what, you're fired. We're breaking up. Give me the remote."

Barry gleefully spins out of the way and continues singing. "YOU ARE THE DANCING QUEEN!" he yells at Oliver, who cringes in his soul.

"This is the corniest you have ever been in your life." Oliver informs him. Barry does an unrepentant shimmy in reply.

"DANCING QUEEN FEEL THE BEAT FROM THE TAMBOURINE OOOH-" Barry is cut off as a cloud of icing sugar explodes in his face. He blinks and sputters in disbelief.

"Oh, hell no!" he growls when his vision clears, lightning sparking in his eyes. "You're not getting away with that, Queen!"

Oliver meets his boyfriend's glare with a smirk and spins the icing spatula in his hand like a nunchuck. "Bring it, Allen!"

...


Later, Abba is still playing in a low hum in the background, and the two of them lie dishevelled on the kitchen island floor, which is covered in various cake ingredients. Barry's t-shirt (or rather Oliver's) is rucked around his armpits and both their pants are shucked around their thighs.

Oliver falls back onto the sugar-covered floor with a sigh. "I can't believe I had sex with you after that," he groans. "That was the unsexiest thing I've ever seen."

"And yet," Barry grins smugly at the ceiling. "It's not my fault you're easy."

Oliver props his head on his elbow and turns to look at Barry pulling up his Spiderman pants. There is flour in his hair, his cheek and chin are smeared with batter and he's lost a sock. He sees Oliver staring oddly at him.

"What?" Barry asks warily.

Oliver continues gazing at him like he's seeing him for the first time. "I just realized how absolutely awful everything is."

Barry blinks and looks around. "Um. I can clean this up in a minute-"

"It's not that."

"I didn't think Abba was that bad?" he tries, bewildered.

Oliver stands, pulling his pants up and helps Barry to his feet. He pulls him onto the sofa and seats himself opposite him on the coffee table, knees brushing against each other.

"Barry...this week has been awful," Oliver begins, letting his forehead drop wearily onto their clasped hands. "I'm a college drop out, I ran my family's company to the ground and now I'm trying to run a city when everyone knows Im not qualified. I try to look as though I know what I'm doing but I'm in over my head every day. Thea and Laurel are my life preservers and I'm still just keeping my head above water. Not to mention my night job -"

The fatigue settles into his bones but he ploughs on. "It's been five years and sometimes I feel like I didnt make the slightest bit of difference - no, let me say this - I feel like I'm only damming the flood every night and I'll never be able to stop being the vigilante or live a normal life. I have nightmares that this city will drain me of everything I am until I'm nothing but a shrivelled, bitter old man alone in the shadows with my bow.

"My kid is the one thing that's pure and completely good in my life and I've missed so much of his. I am so mad at Samantha and my Mom for that. But I can barely be there for him, or make his Little League games or bake sales. My parents made a lot of mistakes but at least they were there for me. I can't give even that much to my son because the city is taking everything I have. I'm failing him, Barry."

He only realizes his eyes are wet when Barry brushes the tears away with his thumbs, framing Oliver's face in his hands with infinite tenderness.

"Oliver," he leans their foreheads together and breathes his name into the space between.

"But that's not it." Oliver draws back, capturing Barry's hands in his own to look up at him, willing him to understand. "I just realized...everything in my life is completely awful - and I am so goddamn happy." He takes a shuddering breath through the lump in his throat and looks his boyfriend in the eyes. "Marry me."

"What?"

"Marry me."

Barry stares at him, stunned. "I just sang Dancing Queen at you and destroyed our kitchen."

"I know. You're awful. And so corny. You look ridiculous in my shirts. You eat so much sugar that watching you gives me toothache. You keep watching the same three musicals over and over when you can't sleep. It's like living with a five year old. I love you. Marry me."

"This is officially the weirdest marriage proposal ever," marvels Barry, still bemused. "I still don't understand where this is coming from. Is it because you had a bad day?"

"It's because I had a bad day," Oliver agrees, "and then I came home to you being...well, you. And then nothing else mattered."

Tears are now shining in Barry's beautiful eyes as well, clinging to his long lashes. "I love you too."

They fall forward into each other as Oliver crushes Barry to him. "Never leave," he pleads into his neck, where the scent of vanilla and batter is spiced with that of ozone and storms. "Stay."

"Yes," Barry clutches him back just as fervently. "I will."

"You will?" He stills, daring to hope.

"Well, no," Barry amends, pulling back. Oliver's face falls. "You have to do it properly."

His boyfriend gestures imperiously at the floor as he looks on in bemusement. "Properly, Oliver," he says sternly and the light of understanding dawns.

"Ahem. Of course." Oliver pulls a mask of solemnity over the exhilaration surging within him. "I don't have a ring though -," he casts around and spots - "Ah, well this'll do."

He takes the one rainbow sprinkle doughnut he had managed to ice which has been miraculously spared the destruction and ceremonially places it on a napkin on his palm. Then he sinks down on one knee in front of his giggling boyfriend.

"Barry Allen," his laughter fades as Oliver looks at him over the colourful confection, heart open in his eyes. "Will you marry me?"

"Yes," the tears that have been shining in Barry's eyes spill over and he wipes them away hazily. "Yes, I will."

He graciously holds out his pinkie for Oliver to slide the doughnut on and bursts out laughing when they kiss. Barry pulls away and starts eating the cake off his finger.

"What are you doing?" exclaims Oliver. "You can't eat your engagement ring!"

"It's my ring," Barry informs him through a sweet mouthful. "I can do what I want."

"What about me? Aren't you gonna share with your fiancé?"

"Remember what I said about the stomach coming first - Oliver, no!" Barry falls off the sofa with a shout of laughter as Oliver lunges at him.

Hours later, the kitchen speed-cleaned, remaining doughnuts salvaged and safely stored, the two of them lie in bed, fed, showered and sated. They are tucked comfortably and tightly in each other's arms,  two neatly fitted pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. There is no ring but their fingers are entwined with each other's in silent promise.

"Barry?" Oliver murmurs into his fiancé's neck.

"Yeah, babe?" Barry nestles further into his arms sleepily.

"You know I love everything about you."

"Mmm hmm."

"But please - never sing that again. Ever."

There is a contemplative silence.

"Okay. But only because I love you."

Notes:

I just wanted a doughnut. I don't even know, man.