Oliver slipped on a normal pair of dark blue jeans, a pair he wore when he went out, which did not involve whoring. That's what he was. People brought his mouth. His arse. But this was all he could do. He was good for nothing else. His body was freshly washed, skin red and a little sore from scrubbing the feeling of dirtiness away. His mouth tasted overwhelming minty as he had cleaned it with mouthwash and toothpaste, he had been half tempted to use soap.

He then grabbed a brown Henley from one of his draws. It was a nice shirt that really showed off his chest. Like the jeans, he never worn them on an "outing". The same went with his trainers, boxers -which he never saw the point of wearing when he was working-, even his socks. He wanted to be clean. Oliver, tonight, was a whore free zone.

Every time Slade came to visit, Oliver stopped working. Slade would hire him multiple times a week for two weeks, sometimes every night. He paid well and Oliver saved up before hand to make sure he would be able to survive only on what Slade paid him for. The reason he did this was because it was nice to not shell his body for two weeks. Two weeks where he went to spend time with a friend at night and looked at other means of work in the day. It was a tight squeeze only being with Slade for that time period but it felt like a little holiday and Oliver had missed it dearly.

"Okay." Oliver sighed, eyeing himself in the bathroom mirror which was all fogged up, minus the area he had wiped away with his hand. He took a breath. "I'm going to see Slade." he smiled uncontrollably. He knew his name. His smile fell when his thoughts went else where. He really hoped Slade did not want to have sex... He frowned. His shoulders shook with a sad laugh. "I'm a whore." His said into the mirror, eyeing his own dull green eyes. It was all he would ever be good for.

Slade grinned when he opened to door to find Oliver stood behind it. He moved back, opening the door further. "Come in." he said, throwing his dress shirt over the butt of his hand gun that was slotted in the back of his jeans.

Oliver nodded with a smile, stepping inside.

It was a nice room with cream walls, white borders and oak floors. The seating was leather, the TV a large flat screen sat on top of a oak set of draws with brass handles.

"I meant to ask before. Where did you learn about the meanings of flowers?"

"It's just something I picked up over the years." Slade said shutting the door, he held his arm out to the sofa. "Feel free."

"Thank you." Oliver said, walking over and taking a seat. The news was on in the back round, showing the headlines which would be explained further for the next hour. Nothing he was overly bothered by. "Do you know the meanings of the different coloured tulips? The ones in the park were red, pink, purple and yellow."

Slade hummed in thought. "Tea?" he asked, as alcohol and coffee where a no go.

"Please." Slade always had such good tea. Not that Oliver was a fan of it or anything. He did not always have the money to spend but like not having to work or getting to wear his "normal" clothes, it was something he only really got to do when he was with Slade which did make it kind of special.

"Well, red is love." Slade said, "It has to be, every flower that can be red is either love or passion." He stepped over to the kitchen, placing his gun in a draw. "Yellow tulips mean happy thought, not sure about pink but purple I know for a fact represents royalty."

Oliver snorted.

"What?" Slade peeked his head around the corner to look at the blonde.

"It's nothing." Ollie said, waving the topic away with his hand. "Does purple generally represent royalty or just tulips?"

"Generally, I think." The Aussie shrugged. He looked around the kitchen, trying to think of where the kettle would be hiding. "Like how white means pure and innocent and black is sympathy."

"I had an aunt living in France." Oliver started. "She used to grow these little blue flowers, the middle was yellow and they smelt amazing. I forget what they're called but I know they were nicknamed mouse ears because of the leaves."

"I think I know what you mean. They're European, that's all I know."

Oliver smiled, shoulders shaking lightly. "This conversation is getting pretty girly." he said, standing and walking over to the kitchen, to find "ah ha"ing when Slade found an electric kettle in a cupboard.

"Well I do have steaks in the fridge." Slade suggested, "Although stake and tea is a little odd but I'll make it work."

Oliver was speechless. He had not eaten stake since he lived back with his family, no one had cooked for him since Tommy's attempts when Ollie had lived with him. "That's not... No. Just..."

Slade looked at him with a cocked brow.

"You don't need to."

"I would like to. It's up to you but," Slade smirked. "I can cook a good steak."

Oliver frowned, his eyebrows had that conflicted wiggle.

"I like spending time with you." Slade said, placing the kettle down and leaning against the counter. "I haven't seen you in a year and I want to make it up to you."

"You don't have to."

Slade nodded. "I know but I would like to."

Oliver paused for a moment longer. Slade was going to cook for him? Make it up to him? Why? Finally he nodded. "Okay."

Slade smiled, moving over to the fridge to get the milk and stakes.

"Oliver."

Slade hummed in question, looking over to the blonde.

"My name. It's Oliver." Ollie explained.

"Oliver." Slade said, testing the name on his lips. "It's nice."

Ollie gave a shy smile.

Sitting on the leather sofa; bellies full, multiple cups of tea drank, Slade and Oliver had been talking for nearly two hours. Most of it was about Ollie -avoiding his work on the streets of course- and it had the blonde wondering what had happened to Australian.

"If you don't mind me asking." Oliver started. "What were you doing this past year?"

"That's hard to say." Slade said, his voice sounding lower and more husky.

"I'm sorry." Oliver quickly said. The two had been facing each other, both with they're arms on the back of the sofa. Oliver's long pale fingers just an inch or two away from Slade's. When Ollie spoke, he realised that Slade may have been uncomfortable so he pushed himself away which in term made his hand slip ever so slightly and brush against the large tanned hand.

Slade threw his hand back like it had been burned, although his dark eyes showed an almost blank expression.

Oliver pulled his hands to his chest. "I'm so sorry."

"It's fine." Slade said, shaking his head. "A lot happened."

"I shouldn't have asked or touched-"

Slade cupped Oliver's cheek, looing dead into his eyes. "It's fine kid."

Ollie felt himself stop breathing. He just stared into those dark eyes, feeling the warmth of Slade's hand on his cheek. Slade never really touched him before and it felt so good. He felt himself relaxing and exhaling onto the Aussie's wrist.

Slade ran his calloused thump along Oliver's cupid's bow. "I've missed you."

Ollie smiled. "I've missed you too." he said, feeling his lips move along Slade's rough skin.

The silence was oddly comfortable. Too comfortable. That was when Oliver felt his gut squeeze, his breath cut out which after a few second made Slade raise a brow. Looking into those wide eye with his deep pools of black, long eyelashes falling half closed.

Oliver wanted to touch Slade, to kiss him. He had not felt that way for anyone since he started this life back when he was nineteen.

Slade was not moving away or any closer, enough time had passed that he must have seen the cogs moving in Oliver's mind and yet he did nothing. Did not even wet his lips as a hint, a reassurance or a push. It was all Ollie's choice and he wanted more than anything in that moment to just do it. Fuck fear and self-loathing, and grabbed Slade's face, pull him forward and kiss him. Feel those full lips, warm and wet against his.

The blonde wanted to know if the Aussie's eyebrows would lower in concentration, if he could feel his heart beat race from his neck, if the flavour of meat and herbs would somehow taste sweeter from his mouth.

Oliver lifted his hand to Slade's, running his nails along the back of the tanned hand, his fingertips sliding between Slade's fingers. "I should get going." he added quickly, "But I'm free tomorrow night."

Slade smirked. "Alright." he took his hand back, flexing his fingers so his nails ran down the inside of Oliver's hand.

The ticklish trails make Ollie want to shift, especially when they ran over the centre of his palm.

Oliver's phone started to vibrate, very near moving across the rosewood coffee table. The blonde only just stopped himself from jumping. He grabbed the phone. He felt relieved because, as much as he wanted to stay, he was now out of this bubble of a moment, he could go away and think about what his next move should be but upon seeing who exactly was calling him, Ollie gave his phone a annoyed look, his lip twitching in sudden loss of humour.

Lance

The Sargent was all for texting arrangements, calls only meant that he wanted to meet up right then. After cancellation and cancellation, the guy wants to set something up tonight? Seriously? Ollie hung up the phone, standing up from the sofa.

"So, here tomorrow? Same time?" Oliver asked.

"Of course." Slade said, moving to grab his wallet from his pocket.

Oliver held up a hand. "No. It's fine." he smiled. "I had fun, plus you cooked." he pointed out. This night, these feelings. Oliver did not want them to be ruined by Slade paying him for it.

The Aussie nodded, pressing his lips together in thought. "Okay." He said, grabbing a few notes from his back pocket and passing them to Oliver, between his index and middle finger.

Ollie gave the older man an odd look.

"For a cab." Slade explained.

Oliver gave him a deadpan look.

"Would you just walk otherwise?"

Oliver smirked and took the notes.

Oliver left Slade's room with a smitten smile on his face, even as he called the cab company on his way down the elevator. Making his way to the bottom floor, he sat down in the lobby. He did not have to consider about seeing Lance later tonight, it was his time off after all, like every time Slade... It was then that he realised that at some point in the next week or so Slade would be gone once more. His insides felt pained, his chest empty and cold like his heart had been sucked into a void.

Ollie sighed, his head knocking the wall behind him. He spotted the man at the desk looking a him a couple of times and he left exposed, like he could see what the blonde was. Oliver tugged his sleeves down to hide his skin and tried his best to act casual.

A smile pulled at his lips when he realised that he a name for Slade now. He pulled the mobile from his pocket and selected the contact list. Changing Aussie to Slade. The lack of a picture, number or even an email still bothered him deep down but he could not help grinning like a floor as he eyed the name.

His cuffs slipped back down, the cool air from an open window caused goosebumps to raise on his skin but he was on cloud nine. He could honestly not give a shit.