Arrow ficlet: Blind Difference
Title: Blind Difference
Pairing/Characters: Oliver Queen/Slade Wilson (Arrow)
Genre: PWP
Word Count: 1780
Rating: NC-17
Warnings/Spoilers: Spoilers through most of Season 2
Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow or any of the characters; I make no profit from my wild imaginings
Beta: Unbeta'd
Summary: Oliver speculates on a way to stop Slade from his vendetta against him
Author’s Notes: I have been rather obsessed by Arrow, and decided to jump into the water for 1_million_words' July Pool Party. Yes, this is my first Arrow fic, so make allowances for me! Hopefully I have some grasp of the characters, although I doubt the writers will approve of the memories I've put into Oliver's head.
There may be a need for a sequel, although I make no promises.
NB: this fic can also be read here at AO3
Oliver knew he'd made more than one mistake on the island.
But the worst one was choosing Sara over Shado. Or more precisely, getting into a position where he had to choose one of them over the other.
If only he had done what his mother had done for him with Slade at the end, instead of making that fateful mistake. If he had offered himself instead, perhaps they'd both be alive and Slade would not be persecuting him for the choice he'd made.
Even now he couldn't have said why he chose Sara. It hadn't been an easy choice and it could just as easily have gone the other way, but instead of Slade's hatred, he'd have had Laurel's, not to mention her parents', despite the whole two-timing side of things.
And apart from the whole super-villain thing, that would have been harder to bear.
But what was he supposed to do to stop Slade, now?
There was one thing that might work.
One thing, that relied on Slade remembering something both of them had gone to great lengths to forget. But would it work?
It went back to a time before Shado had joined them; before Sara had appeared like a vision out of Oliver's memory; before the Mirakuru.
~//~
It had been a hard day; grueling. Slade had made Oliver run miles further than he'd been capable of - than he'd thought he was capable of, at least. And the traps set for him; they'd been unexpected and more dangerous than any previous challenges Slade had put him through.
Oliver stumbled into camp, his breath ragged, bare feet aching and bloody. Finally able to stop to rest, he headed for the water bucket, stripping his shirt away and scooping a double-handful of the cool liquid up to pour over his head. He followed this rapidly with several more handfuls that he swallowed eagerly.
"You're improving," Slade's disembodied voice seemed to echo around him, the smooth sounds reverberating off the plane's interior.
Oliver turned, wary in case Slade had some new test for him. But Slade smiled, walking in from the opening slowly, his eyes travelling from Oliver's face to his feet and back. Oliver swallowed hard, unsure what he was seeing in the other man's eyes.
"You made it back in less time than I'd estimated, kid. Fewer injuries too." Slade continued to approach, the unusual small smile quirking his lip.
Oliver said nothing, his breath still short. He sucked in more air, nodding as he swallowed more water.
Unexpectedly, Slade's fingertips touched Oliver's still-heaving chest. Oliver's eyes dropped to look at Slade's fingers, and then up again, his brows drawing together slightly as he met Slade's darkening eyes.
"What?" Oliver asked, the word sounding a little higher than it should.
Slade's fingers slid slowly downwards as he continued to study Oliver's expression. He didn't respond to the question, but Oliver, transfixed by something he couldn't name, didn't ask again.
The fingers dipped lower, tracing droplets of water across the lines of Oliver's body, until they met the waistband of his trousers.
"Take them off," Slade instructed; his voice - or perhaps his touch - sending a shiver down Oliver's spine.
"I…" Oliver started, but then he couldn't get any more words out. Swallowing deeply once again, he was aware of his hands trembling as he pushed his trousers down.
Slade's eyes dropped from where they had held Oliver's to watch the skin slowly being revealed.
Despite the hypnotic quality of Slade's stare no longer being focused on Oliver's face, he found himself unable to do anything other than obey the instruction, letting go of his pants as they reached his knees so that they dropped the rest of the way down, to pool around his ankles.
While Oliver was aware he was now naked, he wasn't fully cognizant of the implications until Slade turned his gaze back up to his face and, at the same time, lowered himself to his knees.
Taking a deep breath in, Oliver was aware of a building need deep inside himself, and the expression in Slade's eyes said that he had seen it long before Oliver had known it even existed. Oliver still couldn't form any words, but his body was speaking more clearly than anything he could verbalize.
Slade's grin was almost feral, and then almost without warning, his lips were covering the head of Oliver's erection. Oliver drew in a shaky breath, letting it out again slowly as he reached for Slade's hair. He stopped before he touched though, unsure if Slade would allow it.
Slade's eyes were focused intently on Oliver's as the man's mouth began to move on Oliver's rigid flesh, and somehow it seemed a lot more erotic than Oliver remembered it being with any girl doing the same thing. It was difficult to remain still under the pleasurable onslaught, but something in the back of Oliver's mind said this was just another test; one he needed to pass or he wouldn't get the reward that orgasm represented.
Though Oliver held back as much as he was able, Slade's mouth was insistent, and inevitably, Oliver's climax hit far too soon. He groaned, his knees feeling weak. As he gave in to the incredible sensation, something tiny inside his mind managed to wonder at the fact that Slade was swallowing all Oliver had to offer as if it was manna from heaven.
He let his hand touch Slade's hair as it slid to the man's shoulder. He needed the support; his legs felt as though they'd give way any second.
Slade drew his lips off Oliver's cock, licking at his lips for the last traces of Oliver's seed, and then grinned up at Oliver. "There's a lot of protein in a man's come, kid."
"Jesus…" was all Oliver got out as he gave in to his legs' desperate need to take the weight from them. He ended up on his own knees in front of Slade, who seemed only amused by Oliver's reaction and his fingers digging into Slade's shoulders.
"Now for payback," Slade rasped, his grin still wide. He pushed Oliver backward.
Oliver, too weak to fight, fell, with Slade following. The sudden fear that Slade had more in mind than Oliver's reciprocation hit him with the impact of Slade's body on his own, and Oliver scrabbled backward.
"Relax, kid," Slade told him as he shifted his weight off Oliver and began to unbuckle his own belt. "Keep still. If you learned anything from what just happened, I won't need to go there."
Heart hammering, Oliver couldn't tear his eyes from Slade's crotch, where his erection now jutted up from its dark, curly nest. He was uncut, and Oliver blinked at the size, curiously glad for the respite from what he'd thought Slade might have wanted from him.
"Protein, huh?" Oliver got out, trying to smile as he got his elbows under himself and levered further upward.
Slade huffed a laugh, straddling Oliver and holding his cock an inch away from Oliver's mouth.
"Payback," Oliver muttered, meeting Slade's eyes. It was unlikely he'd get away with not following through now, although a small part of him wanted it as much as Slade did. He lay back down as Slade shifted further forward, grabbing his nearby shirt to shove under his head for support.
Unsure how to proceed, Oliver managed a smile, meeting Slade's eyes once more as he reached a hand to encircle the base of Slade's cock. Slade drew a breath at the motion, and before he chickened out, Oliver licked at the exposed glans, intrigued, but not turned off by the vague flavor of the man.
"Yes…" Slade hissed.
It took a few moments for Oliver to convince himself that he wouldn't choke, but eventually, he wrapped his lips around the warmth of Slade's dick, utterly amazed at the rightness of this. Remembering what Slade - and some of the women before him - had done for him, he began to move.
Slade groaned, his eyes closing, and tilted his hips slightly to make it easier for Oliver, so he knew he must be doing something right. Encouraged, he added more suction, and sped up the action a little.
"That's it, kid," Slade murmured, rubbing at Oliver's arm with one hand, while the other rested on his own firm stomach.
Oliver swallowed, and the movement must have been good, because Slade's breathing sped up, and as Oliver continued to suck, he let out a series of strangely erotic little noises. Oliver swallowed again, and then Slade was gone. Hot, salty liquid burst onto Oliver's tongue. He swallowed convulsively, taking it down before he could allow himself the thought of what it was and how it tasted.
Slade let out a satisfied grunt and sat down on Oliver's chest, his cock slipping out of Oliver's mouth.
Oliver could only lie there, watching Slade come down from the post-orgasmic high.
From there, it had become part of their routine for a few short weeks: the returned favor; the exchange of 'protein', and the pleasure.
Above all, the pleasure.
One small moment in each day that became important to both of them in that time of hardship and deprivation: that one small moment of gratification.
And although they never kissed nor called it anything like love, there was a caring behind it that Oliver was sure they both recognized, no matter that in all other ways nothing had changed.
And then Shado had joined them.
It had ended as suddenly as it had begun when Shado and her father arrived.
Neither Oliver nor Slade had ever referred to it again.
~//~
The memory was something Oliver had pushed away, determined never to remember, because remembering it meant Oliver would have to deal with how much he'd wanted it and what that made him feel.
And he couldn't for a moment consider what it might mean about how Slade felt.
Pulling the images from the depths of his mind now wasn't an easy task, but once he did, Oliver knew that there was a possibility that whatever Slade had felt then could be something he could use to remind Slade now of how much they had both cared for not only Shado, but for each other too, at one time.
They had put aside their differences once before; perhaps a reminder of that could make a difference now.
Oliver swallowed hard, seeing the remembered image of Slade in the middle of orgasmic bliss once again in his mind's eye.
It might not make a blind bit of difference, but Oliver knew he had to try.
He took a deep breath, and left the lair.
~//~
Pairing/Characters: Oliver Queen/Slade Wilson (Arrow)
Genre: PWP
Word Count: 1780
Rating: NC-17
Warnings/Spoilers: Spoilers through most of Season 2
Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow or any of the characters; I make no profit from my wild imaginings
Beta: Unbeta'd
Summary: Oliver speculates on a way to stop Slade from his vendetta against him
Author’s Notes: I have been rather obsessed by Arrow, and decided to jump into the water for 1_million_words' July Pool Party. Yes, this is my first Arrow fic, so make allowances for me! Hopefully I have some grasp of the characters, although I doubt the writers will approve of the memories I've put into Oliver's head.
There may be a need for a sequel, although I make no promises.
NB: this fic can also be read here at AO3
Oliver knew he'd made more than one mistake on the island.
But the worst one was choosing Sara over Shado. Or more precisely, getting into a position where he had to choose one of them over the other.
If only he had done what his mother had done for him with Slade at the end, instead of making that fateful mistake. If he had offered himself instead, perhaps they'd both be alive and Slade would not be persecuting him for the choice he'd made.
Even now he couldn't have said why he chose Sara. It hadn't been an easy choice and it could just as easily have gone the other way, but instead of Slade's hatred, he'd have had Laurel's, not to mention her parents', despite the whole two-timing side of things.
And apart from the whole super-villain thing, that would have been harder to bear.
But what was he supposed to do to stop Slade, now?
There was one thing that might work.
One thing, that relied on Slade remembering something both of them had gone to great lengths to forget. But would it work?
It went back to a time before Shado had joined them; before Sara had appeared like a vision out of Oliver's memory; before the Mirakuru.
~//~
It had been a hard day; grueling. Slade had made Oliver run miles further than he'd been capable of - than he'd thought he was capable of, at least. And the traps set for him; they'd been unexpected and more dangerous than any previous challenges Slade had put him through.
Oliver stumbled into camp, his breath ragged, bare feet aching and bloody. Finally able to stop to rest, he headed for the water bucket, stripping his shirt away and scooping a double-handful of the cool liquid up to pour over his head. He followed this rapidly with several more handfuls that he swallowed eagerly.
"You're improving," Slade's disembodied voice seemed to echo around him, the smooth sounds reverberating off the plane's interior.
Oliver turned, wary in case Slade had some new test for him. But Slade smiled, walking in from the opening slowly, his eyes travelling from Oliver's face to his feet and back. Oliver swallowed hard, unsure what he was seeing in the other man's eyes.
"You made it back in less time than I'd estimated, kid. Fewer injuries too." Slade continued to approach, the unusual small smile quirking his lip.
Oliver said nothing, his breath still short. He sucked in more air, nodding as he swallowed more water.
Unexpectedly, Slade's fingertips touched Oliver's still-heaving chest. Oliver's eyes dropped to look at Slade's fingers, and then up again, his brows drawing together slightly as he met Slade's darkening eyes.
"What?" Oliver asked, the word sounding a little higher than it should.
Slade's fingers slid slowly downwards as he continued to study Oliver's expression. He didn't respond to the question, but Oliver, transfixed by something he couldn't name, didn't ask again.
The fingers dipped lower, tracing droplets of water across the lines of Oliver's body, until they met the waistband of his trousers.
"Take them off," Slade instructed; his voice - or perhaps his touch - sending a shiver down Oliver's spine.
"I…" Oliver started, but then he couldn't get any more words out. Swallowing deeply once again, he was aware of his hands trembling as he pushed his trousers down.
Slade's eyes dropped from where they had held Oliver's to watch the skin slowly being revealed.
Despite the hypnotic quality of Slade's stare no longer being focused on Oliver's face, he found himself unable to do anything other than obey the instruction, letting go of his pants as they reached his knees so that they dropped the rest of the way down, to pool around his ankles.
While Oliver was aware he was now naked, he wasn't fully cognizant of the implications until Slade turned his gaze back up to his face and, at the same time, lowered himself to his knees.
Taking a deep breath in, Oliver was aware of a building need deep inside himself, and the expression in Slade's eyes said that he had seen it long before Oliver had known it even existed. Oliver still couldn't form any words, but his body was speaking more clearly than anything he could verbalize.
Slade's grin was almost feral, and then almost without warning, his lips were covering the head of Oliver's erection. Oliver drew in a shaky breath, letting it out again slowly as he reached for Slade's hair. He stopped before he touched though, unsure if Slade would allow it.
Slade's eyes were focused intently on Oliver's as the man's mouth began to move on Oliver's rigid flesh, and somehow it seemed a lot more erotic than Oliver remembered it being with any girl doing the same thing. It was difficult to remain still under the pleasurable onslaught, but something in the back of Oliver's mind said this was just another test; one he needed to pass or he wouldn't get the reward that orgasm represented.
Though Oliver held back as much as he was able, Slade's mouth was insistent, and inevitably, Oliver's climax hit far too soon. He groaned, his knees feeling weak. As he gave in to the incredible sensation, something tiny inside his mind managed to wonder at the fact that Slade was swallowing all Oliver had to offer as if it was manna from heaven.
He let his hand touch Slade's hair as it slid to the man's shoulder. He needed the support; his legs felt as though they'd give way any second.
Slade drew his lips off Oliver's cock, licking at his lips for the last traces of Oliver's seed, and then grinned up at Oliver. "There's a lot of protein in a man's come, kid."
"Jesus…" was all Oliver got out as he gave in to his legs' desperate need to take the weight from them. He ended up on his own knees in front of Slade, who seemed only amused by Oliver's reaction and his fingers digging into Slade's shoulders.
"Now for payback," Slade rasped, his grin still wide. He pushed Oliver backward.
Oliver, too weak to fight, fell, with Slade following. The sudden fear that Slade had more in mind than Oliver's reciprocation hit him with the impact of Slade's body on his own, and Oliver scrabbled backward.
"Relax, kid," Slade told him as he shifted his weight off Oliver and began to unbuckle his own belt. "Keep still. If you learned anything from what just happened, I won't need to go there."
Heart hammering, Oliver couldn't tear his eyes from Slade's crotch, where his erection now jutted up from its dark, curly nest. He was uncut, and Oliver blinked at the size, curiously glad for the respite from what he'd thought Slade might have wanted from him.
"Protein, huh?" Oliver got out, trying to smile as he got his elbows under himself and levered further upward.
Slade huffed a laugh, straddling Oliver and holding his cock an inch away from Oliver's mouth.
"Payback," Oliver muttered, meeting Slade's eyes. It was unlikely he'd get away with not following through now, although a small part of him wanted it as much as Slade did. He lay back down as Slade shifted further forward, grabbing his nearby shirt to shove under his head for support.
Unsure how to proceed, Oliver managed a smile, meeting Slade's eyes once more as he reached a hand to encircle the base of Slade's cock. Slade drew a breath at the motion, and before he chickened out, Oliver licked at the exposed glans, intrigued, but not turned off by the vague flavor of the man.
"Yes…" Slade hissed.
It took a few moments for Oliver to convince himself that he wouldn't choke, but eventually, he wrapped his lips around the warmth of Slade's dick, utterly amazed at the rightness of this. Remembering what Slade - and some of the women before him - had done for him, he began to move.
Slade groaned, his eyes closing, and tilted his hips slightly to make it easier for Oliver, so he knew he must be doing something right. Encouraged, he added more suction, and sped up the action a little.
"That's it, kid," Slade murmured, rubbing at Oliver's arm with one hand, while the other rested on his own firm stomach.
Oliver swallowed, and the movement must have been good, because Slade's breathing sped up, and as Oliver continued to suck, he let out a series of strangely erotic little noises. Oliver swallowed again, and then Slade was gone. Hot, salty liquid burst onto Oliver's tongue. He swallowed convulsively, taking it down before he could allow himself the thought of what it was and how it tasted.
Slade let out a satisfied grunt and sat down on Oliver's chest, his cock slipping out of Oliver's mouth.
Oliver could only lie there, watching Slade come down from the post-orgasmic high.
From there, it had become part of their routine for a few short weeks: the returned favor; the exchange of 'protein', and the pleasure.
Above all, the pleasure.
One small moment in each day that became important to both of them in that time of hardship and deprivation: that one small moment of gratification.
And although they never kissed nor called it anything like love, there was a caring behind it that Oliver was sure they both recognized, no matter that in all other ways nothing had changed.
And then Shado had joined them.
It had ended as suddenly as it had begun when Shado and her father arrived.
Neither Oliver nor Slade had ever referred to it again.
~//~
The memory was something Oliver had pushed away, determined never to remember, because remembering it meant Oliver would have to deal with how much he'd wanted it and what that made him feel.
And he couldn't for a moment consider what it might mean about how Slade felt.
Pulling the images from the depths of his mind now wasn't an easy task, but once he did, Oliver knew that there was a possibility that whatever Slade had felt then could be something he could use to remind Slade now of how much they had both cared for not only Shado, but for each other too, at one time.
They had put aside their differences once before; perhaps a reminder of that could make a difference now.
Oliver swallowed hard, seeing the remembered image of Slade in the middle of orgasmic bliss once again in his mind's eye.
It might not make a blind bit of difference, but Oliver knew he had to try.
He took a deep breath, and left the lair.
~//~