Between Love and Skate 9/9
Author: dettiot
Rating: M
Summary: After an injury ends his chances for a career in professional hockey, Oliver Queen doesn't know what he's going to do. And then he gets an offer to become a figure skater and partner with a beautiful, babbling blonde skater: Felicity Smoak. With a gold medal at the Olympics on the line, can love stick its landing?
Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow. No copyright infringement intended.
Author's Note: So here we are at the end. I have a lot to say at the end, but in this part of my author's note, I want to thank Macha and Callista and youguysimserious and scu11y22 and everyone else on Tumblr who have reblogged and liked my posts about this fic, sent me messages or just generally promoted this fic. Plus, I'd like to thank the readers on AO3 and who have been equally enthusiastic. Because I don't work in a vacuum and knowing that I have so many great people supporting my work is the best feeling on Earth.

Enough sappiness for now-although just wait until you get to the end, I might have achieved a new level in cheesy fluffiness. Enjoy this final chapter! Also, note the rating change.

XXX

Felicity let out a half-gasp, half-laugh as Oliver pushed her back against the wall. "Oliver-Oliver, we're in a hallway."

"Yep," he said, running his hands up and down her sides. Needing to touch her, not to hold her up in a lift or perform a death spiral, but because she was beautiful and amazing and she loved him.

"Mmmm," she said softly, her hands just as busy as they stroked his arms and shoulders. "And-and I'm all sweaty."

"Uh-huh," Oliver replied, kissing along her jaw and tasting salt and sweetness in equal measure. "Remember how I said there was only one way that was more fun to get sweaty? Guess what it is."

Her cheeks went pink, but she smiled at him and slid her hands up to hold his face as she kissed him slowly. Oliver felt like he was drowning, but in the best way. Drowning in her.

He pressed against her, their medals clanking a little, then digging into his abs. "Wait," he said, leaning back from her just enough to reach down, grab his medal, and lift it over his head. The medal hit the carpeted floor with a soft plunk once he let it go. He moved back to keep kissing her, but one of her hands shot out and pressed against his chest.

"Oliver! You just dropped your medal-you just dropped an Olympic silver medal on the floor!" She sounded utterly scandalized . . . but also very confused.

"It was in the way. And you matter more," he said, trying to kiss her again.

She let out an adorable little harrumph of disagreement. "You say that now, and I know it's only silver, but-"

"No, Felicity," Oliver interrupted, looking right at her. "You're more important than any medal, of any color, any time. All the time."

A flash of something went through her eyes and she sucked in a breath. And then she was all but climbing him, her hands gripping his shoulders as she hauled him in for a hot, deep kiss, while her legs lifted up to wrap around his hips.

Oliver moaned as her mouth devoured his, feeling like his heart was going to burst and not caring at all. Because this was like something out of a dream.

Suddenly, it was over and Oliver was left blinking as Felicity lowered her legs from his waist. "Huh?"

Felicity was panting, leaning back against the wall of the hallway outside the locker rooms. "We-we need to shower, and do press, and I need to talk to my mom. And then, you and me . . . I'd like to kiss you without at least dozens of people watching."

"Oh, that sounds good-that sounds really good," Oliver said, grinning at her.

Giggling, Felicity leaned up and pecked his lips. "To be continued?"

"Do you really have to ask?" Oliver said before cupping the back of her head and deepening the kiss.

God, he was already addicted to kissing her. He couldn't get enough. And from the way her fingers twisted in his shirt, how she moved closer to him, he knew Felicity felt the same way. And that was the most addicting, amazing thing of all.

This time, he yanked away. "Showers. Press. Then us."

She nodded and tugged a little on her costume, then cupped her medal in her hands. "Can you believe it?" she asked, looking at the medal for a long moment before gazing at him.

"No. I really can't," he said, smiling at her. He scooped up his medal and winked at her. "Catch you later."

"Not if I catch you first," she said, grinning as he walked backwards from her, keeping her face in his line of sight as long as he could.

No, he couldn't believe what had happened. But it was more about Felicity than winning an Olympic medal.

XXX

One hour earlier

Having your first kiss at the end of your successfully completed long program at the Olympics? It was very romantic.

But it was pretty much the definition of starting something you couldn't finish. Because there was another couple waiting to skate, and they needed to get their scores and find out their standing, not to mention the in-person and television audiences watching him and Felicity lock lips.

Most of all, there were things they needed to talk about and discuss. After they had made out for at least an hour, Oliver thought. Yeah, an hour-that was fair, given how long he had been waiting for this, right? For her?

Eventually, the official from before their program-no less cheerful but now rather embarrassed, too-came out onto the ice and shuffled them off to the kiss and cry. Felicity's face was flushed, but her smile never dimmed and she gripped his hand tightly, not letting go even as they stepped off the ice and put the blade guards on their skates.

Oliver grinned at her. "That felt good."

She looked up at him and pressed her lips together, then gave him an innocent smile. "The program or the kissing?" Then she winked at him before turning to hug Digg.

Oh, she was going to kill him. In the best possible way.

Digg hugged Felicity and whispered something in her ear, something that made her giggle as she pulled away. Then Digg was hugging him, patting him on the back. "You made the right choice," Digg said quietly, reminding Oliver of their conversation in the car earlier.

"It was the only one to make," Oliver said as he stepped back from Digg, immediately reaching out to take Felicity's hand again.

"That's how it should be," Digg said, his hand resting on Oliver's shoulder. "Come on, you two-start getting hydrated while we wait. Probably going to be a bit of a delay as they double-check the video replays."

"How did it look to you, Digg?" Felicity asked between gulps of water.

Their coach's face was impassive for a moment, and then a large smile split his face. "Perfect. I've never seen you two skate so well."

Oliver stole a quick glance at Felicity's face, which was flushed and sweaty and completely beautiful, and gave her hand a squeeze. "That's what I thought. We got the Diggle right, yeah?"

"From my viewpoint, yeah," Digg said. "But you never know how the judges are."

Letting his head fall back, Oliver blew out a breath, feeling the same stab of frustration at skating so well yet having his fate in someone else's hands.

Felicity gently nudged Oliver with her elbow. "Drink some water. No matter what the scores say, we skated like gold medalists and we can be proud of that."

"You are amazing," Oliver said, turning his head to gaze at her. "How are you so smart?"

She blushed and smiled at him, as Digg groaned and shoved a bottle of water into Oliver's hand. "Now I'm glad you two took so long to figure this out, if this is how you're gonna be."

"Jealous, Digg?" Oliver asked, taking a few long swallows. But before their coach could say anything, the public address system crackled to life.

"The scores for Felicity Smoak and Oliver Queen are . . ."

Oliver had never understood figure skating scoring. He left that to Digg and Felicity. So as their scores were announced, he watched Felicity's face. Saw her take in the numbers and do the math in her head. Watched the different emotions flicker across her face: uncertainty, confusion, doubt, disappointment, excitement.

When she looked at Digg and he nodded, Oliver knew they knew the results. "Well?" Oliver demanded, looking back and forth between them.

"Silver." Felicity's voice was a bit choked.

"They probably didn't count the lift-throw jump as a combination, which meant no bonus points for it. It's not in the rule books, so they don't have any way to reward you for it. But with the quad Lutz . . ." Digg said slowly.

For a moment, Oliver felt his spirits sink. Because he had wanted Felicity to win gold. Wanted her to be able to walk away as the best. If she still wanted to retire. And he admitted, it would be nice to finally win gold.

But he knew that Felicity didn't love him because he helped her win gold. She loved him for himself. And that made him a winner, no matter what a bunch of judges thought.

"Hey," he said softly, reaching out to cup Felicity's face. "I still feel like gold." He searched her face, hoping she realized what he was saying.

She gave him a teary smile and nodded. "Me, too." Then she hugged him tightly, burying her face against his neck, and Oliver hugged her back, hearing the crowd roar for them.

Yet he could barely hear them over the pounding of his heart. Because they had just won a silver medal in the Olympics. And because he had Felicity.

XXX

Once they're both showered and changed into their Team USA uniforms-how did Felicity make sweatpants and a warm-up jacket look amazing?-they're ushered into the press room with no time for even a kiss. But they can hold hands under the table, and he can smile at her all he wants. And the reporters and photographers ate up the dynamic between them, even though Oliver and Felicity silently agreed to deflect most of the questions about their relationship in favor of concentrating on their performance.

Although Felicity did get in a long babble about their costumes really suiting Oliver and how the Diggle was only possible because of his strength, "which you all know, because you've got eyes and can see his muscles. Because he's got a lot of them and the costume certainly shows them off and-"

The press really went crazy at that, and Oliver couldn't help grinning at Felicity as she blushed. Then he turned to the mike and shrugged. "Felicity makes her costumes look damn good, so the sentiment goes double for me." And that made Felicity blush harder, and even hide her face against his shoulder for a moment as he kept grinning, although he's pretty sure the flashbulbs are making him go blind.

By the time they get in the car, they're both starting to crash, the adrenaline wearing off. Digg sat up front, driving them, while in the back seat, Oliver stretched his legs out and wrapped an arm around Felicity. She curled up against his side, her head on his chest.

"My mom was so happy," Felicity said sleepily, draping her arm over his waist. "So was my dad."

Oliver lifted his hand and stroked Felicity's hair, touching the soft strands which have dried into gentle waves. "Yeah? Did you guys talk about what he said last night?"

Felicity sighed softly. "A little. I know in a few days, I'll be mad at him again. And I'm going to make him explain himself. But I didn't want to do that tonight."

"Yeah," he said, brushing a soft kiss over the top of her head.

Lifting her head from his chest, Felicity rested her chin on his shoulder and gazed at his face. Oliver felt skittish for a moment, especially when he saw the depth of the emotions in Felicity's eyes. But he held her gaze, savoring being open with her. Not having to hide anymore.

Her fingers reached out and gently stroked along his stubble-covered jaw. "Remember the first night of Nationals?"

He nodded, frowning a little in confusion. "Yeah . . . what part?"

"Afterwards, when we were going back to our rooms?"

Still not following her, Oliver nodded. "Okay."

"You said having to wait to skate the long-it was like foreplay?" Felicity prompted.

"Oh, yeah, right," Oliver said, chuckling a little.

Felicity smiled a little, before her face resumed her serious expression. "Ray and I had broken up already. We had a fight, earlier in the day. He was mad at me. Said I was always distracted now, but it was different from just being distracted by skating. He said-he said-"

"Hey," Oliver said, tucking some of her hair behind her ear, "you don't have to talk about this. What was between you and Ray-you don't have to explain what happened, you don't owe me anything."

"I know," she said softly. "I want to tell you this." She hesitated, her fingers still stroking along his jaw. "Ray said it was like foreplay. Watching you and me together. That it just seemed like a matter of time until we'd . . . until we'd stop playing."

As her words sunk in, her shocked reaction at his offhand choice of words that night made sense. But he still wasn't sure why she was telling him this now. Reaching up, he gently wrapped his fingers around hers and lifted them away from his jaw. He settled their hands on his chest before he spoke. "How . . . how did you take that?"

She pursed her lips, and in any other situation Oliver would immediately kiss her. "Not well. I may have taken the ring off and thrown it at him, for implying I would cheat on him. Not that he was actually saying that-it was my own guilt talking. Because . . . deep down, I knew I didn't love him. Not enough to marry him. But I didn't know how to feel about you, so . . ." She shrugged her shoulders.

Oliver pressed his lips to her temple, then rested his face there. "You know that me and Sara-"

"I got an email from her earlier today," Felicity said quietly. "She told me that it was a one-time thing. And that . . ." Felicity's cheeks went pink, then she said in a rush, "That you weren't thinking about her when you were together. She could tell."

Frowning, Oliver opened his mouth to ask her what she meant, when suddenly, the memory appeared in his mind, freed from whatever alcohol-induced block had been placed on it. The memory of calling Sara 'Felicity'. He groaned and closed his eyes. "Oh my God."

Felicity's voice was amused. "So that really happens? Guys actually say another girl's name?"

"When you're completely in love with someone you think is totally out of reach-yeah, I guess so," Oliver said, opening his eyes to look at her.

Her eyelids fluttered and a small smile appeared on her face. "Well, I'm not out of reach now," she said as she stretched up to kiss him.

With a sigh, Oliver kissed her back. Unlike earlier, these kisses were slow and languid, like they had all the time in the world. Which they kind of did.

He slid his hand along her jaw and tipped her head back, kissing her deeply as he stroked her hip, his fingers grazing the swell of her magnificent ass, when the car came to a stop.

"You two better go somewhere private before I turn the hose on you," Digg said from the front of the car.

Felicity pulled away from Oliver with a jerk, her face flushed bright red. "Oh, Digg, I'm sorry-"

"I'm not," Oliver whispered in her ear, making her slap his shoulder.

"Stop it," she said, her face stern even as her eyes sparkled. "Digg doesn't deserve it."

"Sorry, Digg!" he called out, hearing a snort from their coach as they got out of the car.

Once they were inside the house, Felicity turned to face him, her hands running up and down the front of his jacket. "I need to talk to my mom for a minute. Why don't I meet you in your room?"

Was she saying . . .? Oliver felt his mouth go a little bit dry. "Is this when I say I'll slip into something more comfortable?" he managed to ask, hoping the joke hid just how excited he was by what she might be saying.

"I hope you're comfortable naked, because that's how I'd like you," Felicity said, tugging him down for a long, deep, hot kiss.

When she pulled away, she smirked up at him. "Do you need to reboot your brain?"

"I-I think so," Oliver said, blinking. "Wow. I like this."

"Me, too," Felicity said, kissing him quickly. "Give me fifteen minutes top." And with that, she was gone with a smile thrown back at him over his shoulder.

XXX

So he wasn't naked. Yet. But he was shirtless, and now he was just waiting for Felicity, who had definitely been gone longer than fifteen minutes. And he was starting to wonder just how this was going to work.

He knew they needed to talk. Figure things out. And he thought just making out for a little while-some kissing, some touching-would be enough to hold him over. But right now . . . he just wanted Felicity. Wanted to touch her and hold her and make her feel how much he loved her.

The sound of the door opening made him turn around quickly, to see Felicity slipping into the room. She had changed into a pair of yoga pants and a pink camisole, her shoulders and arms bare. He felt his fingers twitch with the desire to explore her smooth skin.

"Hi," she said softly, smiling at him. "Sorry, it took longer than I-"

But she couldn't say anything more, because Oliver had crossed the room so he could kiss her. And then he kept going until he had pinned her against the door.

"You-you really like backing me up against flat surfaces," Felicity muttered against his lips, her hands running over his pecs and abs with the fingers spread wide.

"Complaining?" he asked, kissing her neck and then sucking oh-so-lightly at the spot where her neck met her shoulders.

"God, no-don't stop," she said breathlessly. "Oliver . . ."

He slid his hands down to cup her ass, lifting her up a little. "We don't have to do this tonight-we can wait," he said, groaning as she wrapped her legs around him.

"No waiting," she said, her arms going around his neck as she kissed him.

"Felicity," he whispered against her lips, rocking his hips against her.

"Why did I wear pants?!" she said, squirming and wiggling until he was cross-eyed. Cross-eyed and laughing.

Using one arm and his chest to pin her against the door, he slid his free hand under the edge of her top, stroking her stomach. "I wanna know why you wore a top. You're killing me, Smoak."

"I thought you'd want to talk, Queen. Didn't wanna distract you," she panted.

"We'll talk after," he promised, leaning in to kiss her deeply.

The way she clutched at his shoulders and neck while rolling her hips against his made him wonder how he didn't completely lose control. And then, when he realized he was sucking on her neck and making her moan, he knew he had lost control.

"God, you're so strong," Felicity said when he got her top off with one hand.

He couldn't help smirking at her as he leaned in to kiss her. She kissed him back, her hands everywhere, her scent everywhere, and he felt himself grow even harder.

"Felicity-bed-"

"Nuh-huh. Right here, right now," she insisted, pressing kisses to his face. "Need you."

So the first time they kissed was very romantic. A story they could tell anyone. But this-the first time they made love? It was a story just for them to begin with.

Nobody else needed to know they made love for the first time against a door, sweat running down his back as he thrusted, Felicity gripping him so tightly, inside and out, and her gasps and sighs mixing with his grunts and whispered words.

And all they said when they came was each other's names.

XXX

Groaning softly, Oliver moved closer to Felicity in bed, wrapping his arms around her. "Okay, so maybe sex against the door should have waited until tomorrow. AKA not the day we did the long program."

Felicity pursed her lips and gently rubbed his biceps. Then she leaned in to press soft kisses to the muscles of one arm.

With a sigh, Oliver relaxed back against the bed. "That is so much better than the stinky balm Digg gave me."

"The one that smells like feet and cherries?" Felicity asked, wrinkling her nose.

"Yep," Oliver said, running his fingers through her hair. "Nice to know my mom was right when she said a kiss could make anything better."

She giggled softly and wiggled up so her face was by his. She lightly ran her fingers along his jaw, her face growing serious. "I'd like to meet her. Your mom, I mean. And your best friend-Tommy, right?"

Oliver gazed at her. "Yeah, his name is Tommy. He'll be glad I can finally answer his question."

Her eyebrows drew together. "What question?"

"When I went back to tell them about the figure skating, he asked me if my partner was hot," Oliver said, letting his fingers slide up and down her spine. "I couldn't tell him, because I didn't know. I hadn't let myself think about whether you were hot or not."

"That is so ridiculous," Felicity said, pecking his lips. "I knew you were hot from the moment I laid eyes on you."

"Well, you're the brains," Oliver said, grinning at her.

Rolling her eyes, she propped her head up on one hand. "Don't dismiss yourself like that. You're smart, too, Oliver."

He settled his hand on her waist, needing to touch her. "We could go for a visit. The whole city will go crazy, but at the bar, we'd be left alone. And Tommy would tell you a bunch of stories about me, and my mom-God, she'd love you."

Felicity's cheeks went pink and she smiled softly. "I'd really like that, Oliver."

"Then we'll do it. In a few weeks-after it stops being quite so cold."

"As long as you're around to keep me warm, I don't mind if it's cold," Felicity said, smiling at him.

God, how did she do that? She made him feel so good about himself-not that she hadn't done that before, but now that they were together . . . it felt so natural.

"I didn't realize how easy this would be," Oliver said, rubbing his thumb against Felicity's hip. "I spent so much time agonizing over my feelings, if I should tell you, how I should tell you . . . and now I don't know why I wasted so much time."

"Because it wasn't a waste," Felicity said simply. "You told me when you were ready and the time was right."

"Two minutes before we went on the ice?" Oliver asked, quirking an eyebrow at her.

She laughed softly and shrugged. "And honestly, telling me while I was with Ray, it wouldn't have worked. No cheating. I feel very strongly about that."

"Me, too," Oliver said, leaning in to kiss her softly. "I've never cheated."

"Mmmm, good," Felicity said against his lips, shifting to slide her arms around his neck. She closed her eyes, snuggling in against him, as Oliver watched her. Marveling that she was here in his arms, in his bed.

But for how long?

Pressing his lips together, Oliver swallowed. "Felicity?"

"Hmm?" she asked, slowly opening her eyes. "Yeah?"

"Do you really want to retire?"

She stiffened ever-so-slightly and Oliver rushed to explain himself. "I'm not asking for myself or because I'm worrying about what's going to happen to me. I'm asking because whatever you decide, I'll be happy with it, but I think if you're gonna retire, you should be sure that there's nothing left for you to do. No regrets, you know?"

A strange kind of silence fell between them as they looked at each other. Felicity's face was screwed up in thought and Oliver wouldn't let himself say anything more. He didn't want to influence her decision-he hoped she realized how serious he was about this, about her. If she wanted to keep skating, he would be her partner. If she wanted to retire and go to MIT, he'd be by her side. If that was what she wanted. He knew he couldn't skate with anyone else, but he was content with what he had achieved in the last year and a half. Sure, a gold medal would be nice.

But a gold medal couldn't love him back like Felicity could.

He was so lost in his thoughts, it took Felicity touching him to shake off the cobwebs. And then he realized where she was touching: just under his right eye, her thumb stroking his skin slowly.

"It's this eye, right?" she asked softly.

Oliver nodded slowly, feeling his heart clench in his chest. He didn't want to make this about him, didn't mean for his injury to affect her choice.

"Maybe . . . maybe I could just take a break. Maybe we both could," she said in a voice just above a whisper. "The year after the Olympics is always quiet, competition-wise, and-and spending the hours and hours I'd normally spend with you, going to movies or having dinner together or in bed-that is so much more attractive a proposition than spending all that time in a rink. And after the year was over, we could decide together."

"Really?" he asked, staring at her.

Felicity nodded, her eyes never leaving his. "I could take classes at MIT . . . we could get an apartment together."

A slow smile began growing on his face. "My dad always wanted me to play hockey for Harvard. I could at least make Harvard happen, if they don't take one look at my transcripts from UM and laugh so loud we can hear them from here."

An answering smile appeared on her face. "Two campus libraries to study in. And make out in."

"You are definitely the genius," Oliver said, bringing his hand up to cup her face as he kissed her deeply.

She giggled against his lips, moving into his arms. When he rolled onto his back, Felicity broke away with a gasp. "I love you."

"I love you, too," he said softly, smiling up at her. "Now c'mere."

"So bossy-that's new," Felicity said, straddling his hips.

"Not bossy," he contradicted. "I just know what I want."

Giving her hair a toss, Felicity stroked his chest. "And what do you want?" she asked. But instead of sounding flirtatious or snarky, she sounded . . . he couldn't put his finger on it. All he knew was there was only one answer to give her.

"You," he said, reaching up and drawing her down slowly into his arms. He kissed her, gently sliding his tongue into her mouth and savoring the slow build-up.

Skating might have brought them together. But love was going to keep them together. And Oliver Queen wasn't ever going to let her forget that.

Her stepfather might not have wanted to give her his name. But someday, Oliver knew he was going to make Felicity a Queen.

End.

Author's Note 2: Well, that's it. I would bet a lot of you would want to see the continuing adventures of Oliver and Felicity, whether they keep skating and try for gold or retire and do the college thing. I don't know if I'll want to return to this universe, but just know that I had a complete and utter blast writing this fic.

At least Oliver and Felicity had sex up against a door? :-)

Thank you to everyone for reading!