Archive of Our Own ^beta

The room was still, with no alarm clocks blaring or sirens outside to rouse the occupants. The morning sun was spilling in from the eastern windows, lighting the room on fire in its harsh glow. Oliver blinked himself awake, looking down at the lithe body wrapped around his torso. He knew Barry was awake from the speed of his breathing, but it felt nice to just sit back and revel in the touch of another. “Good morning,” he said with a pleased smirk, stroking Barry’s hair.

“So, not that I’m complaining about you staying here, but when do I get to hang out with you at your place?” Barry asked. They had spent the night together at Barry’s for the third time that week. Barry wasn’t looking up at him, meaning he wasn’t expecting a real answer - he was just talking to talk.

“Is that how they say good morning in Central City?” Oliver asked with a chuckle. He leaned his head down and kissed the crown of Barry’s head, causing him to curl up tighter.

“It is when the bed in Central City is the only one we’ve been using for the past three months,” Barry countered, but Oliver could hear the smile in his voice. This time, Barry did look up at him, his eyes reflecting the glow of the sunlight illuminating the room. “I know you’re not ashamed of me, so what’s holding you back, Ollie?”

Oliver averted his eyes, partly from embarrassment and partly from the fact that Barry’s eyes were utterly perfect, especially this early in the morning. Oliver knew better than to trust his impulse control right after waking up. “You’re right. I haven’t been as forthright about it as I should. It’s William.”

Barry sat up, confusing creeping into his gaze. “What about William?”

Oliver’s jaw set tight for a moment before he returned Barry’s gaze. “He knows about me being the Green Arrow, but he doesn’t know about you being the Flash.”

Barry shrugged. “So?”

“I don’t lie to him, Barry. It’s part of our deal.”

“Have you told him we’re dating, yet?” Oliver faltered, issuing a nod from Barry. “That’s what I thought. So why can’t I meet him, and we just change the lie of omission to what I wear in my time off from work?”

Oliver swung his legs over the edge of the bed. “I’ll think about it,” he muttered.

“I know how things are different whenever William’s involved,” Barry said, putting a hand on Oliver’s. “It’s because you haven’t figured out if you trust me, isn’t it?”

“How can you even say that?” Oliver’s words were heavy, because he knew where Barry was going with this.

“You trust me as your ally and your partner. I’m asking if you trust me as someone who William should meet.”

It was like one of Oliver’s own arrows had pierced his heart. He nodded, fisting the bedsheet as he struggled with his thoughts. “I promise, I would never do anything to hurt William, or the relationship you have with him,” Barry said quietly.

Silence crept into the conversation, and neither man moved for quite some time. Finally, Oliver stood up from the bed and gave Barry a warm, but sad, smile. “Give me some time to think about it, okay, Barry?”

“Take your time, Ollie, but I can’t wait forever.”

“I know. And I promise, you’ll have your answer soon.” He pulled a shirt on over his head before asking, “So. Breakfast?”

To say Oliver was nervous would have been an understatement, and Barry could tell. The normally stoic, resolute stone that was Oliver Queen was a twitchy, impatient mess through most of the midday. After giving the okay for Barry to meet William after breakfast, Barry had noticed him looking at Barry more often, even trying to hide his gaze several times. The cogs turning in his head were almost visible: Did I do the right thing? I can still call it off. Will William like him? He’s the Flash, of course William will like him. Barry, get out of my head. And stop making up single-person conversations about me, while you’re at it.

Lunch prep had been a disaster, too. Ollie dropped an uncracked egg on the floor - they’d be getting the gunk out of the tile for months - and somehow managed to tip over the pitcher in the fridge, sending lemonade everywhere. He had tried to start cleaning it, but it was painful to watch, so Barry did it instead. The entire time, Oliver’s face had bounced between embarrassment and remorse.

Even on the train to Star City, Ollie’s leg would bounce up and down absently as he stared out the window at the passing terrain, chewing on his thumb all the while. At first, Barry thought it was cute, to see such a radically insecure side of Oliver, but as their train ride continued, his heart gradually sank to wondering if this was actually too stressful a situation to be healthy.

“Hey.” Barry reached over and took Oliver’s free hand, shocking the man into the present. “You can still say no. You haven’t told William you’re bringing anyone home with you.”

Oliver looked down at their entwined fingers for a moment, a sad smile slowly spreading across his face. He squeezed Barry’s hand, then pulled away from it to reach for his phone.

Watching intently, Barry’s brow knitted together. “What are you doing?”

Soon, the phone was at Oliver’s ear, both of them waiting patiently.

Suddenly, Oliver grinned. “Hey, buddy. Just calling to let you know I’m en route back to town, and I’ll be there in about an hour or so. Is Raisa cooking tonight? Good. Can you ask her to prepare an extra seat? I’m bringing someone I want you to meet.” Barry swallowed hard. “No, it’s not a girlfriend.” Oliver laughed. “Do you want it to be a surprise, or should I tell you now?”

Barry hitched an eyebrow. What was that man up to?

“You wanna know now. Okay, then.” Oliver gave Barry a confident grin. “I know how much you wanted to meet the Flash.” He pulled the phone away from his ear, Barry clearly hearing yelling on the other end of the line. “Hey, calm down. I didn’t say he was the Flash, did I? He’s really good friends with him, though. I bet he’d be willing to tell you some stories.”

Barry watched in near panic, his blood running cold.

“‘Almost as good,’ huh? I’m sure my friend will be glad to hear you’re so excited.” Oliver nodded. “Uh huh. Yeah, I love you, too. See you in about an hour.” He hung up and pocketed his phone, his grin bright.

Barry gave him a wide eyed stare. “What are you doing, Ollie? You just nailed yourself to the wall! I can’t not meet him, now!”

Oliver nodded. “I know. Takes the easy way out away from me.” He reached down and took Barry’s hand in his again. Leaning close, Oliver’s eyes penetrated into Barry’s very core. “You’re important to me, Barry Allen, and important people meet my son.”

Barry tried to smile, but his face fell. “Are you sure this isn’t too much pressure on you? You’ve been kind of a wreck all day thinking about this.”

“I can’t deny that I’m nervous,” Oliver agreed. He brought Barry’s hand up and kissed it, only losing eye contact long enough to gaze down at the spot where he kissed as he ran a thumb over it. “I’ll be okay. The two most important men in my life need to know each other.”

Barry’s smile succeeded this time, and he leaned in for a deliberately long kiss. They pressed their foreheads together and basked in each other’s presence as the train continued along its way.

“William?”

Oliver closed the door behind Barry as he called into the apartment.

“In here, Dad.”

Barry could feel his heart in his throat, and boy, was it beating fast, even for him. He let Oliver lead the way into the kitchen, where Raisa was stirring something on the stove while William pored over a large book at the kitchen island.

“I’m home,” Oliver announced with a warm smile. His smile was returned by everyone present, although William seemed distracted. “What’s that? Homework?”

“Science homework,” William muttered. “Photosynthesis.”

“Ooh,” Barry hummed, stepping forward. “ATP synthesis?”

“No, we did that last week. Now we’re looking at diurnal versus nocturnal plantlife and how they get their nutrients differently.”

Barry grinned, but Oliver scratched his head absently. “Nope, it’s all Greek to me. Oh, William, this is my friend Barry. Barry, William.”

William swiveled the bar stool to face Barry, an arm outstretched. They shook, then promptly returned to the science book laid out before them.

“I, uh, guess I’ll leave you to that, then,” Oliver muttered, rubbing his hands together.

Oliver took Barry’s jacket and moved them to the coat closet, stopping to stare into the kitchen on his way back. Barry had plopped down on the bar stool next to William and was giving some grand gesture of something growing up and out. William laughed, a sound Oliver hadn’t heard in some time. A smile crossed his lips, his chest warm.

Stepping back into the kitchen, Oliver said, “You bookworms take that to the kitchen table. Raisa, do you need any help with dinner?”

“If I did, Mr. Oliver, I’d ask William to help me,” she said with a smug grin.

Barry snorted as he helped William migrate tables. Oliver just shook his head, a mockingly pained look on his face. Raisa winked at him and handed him a spoon to use. Content to be doing something useful, Oliver nodded in appreciation and sidled up to the stove next to her.

Dinner went off without a hitch. Barry told William a few stories involving the Flash and his friends, and Raisa grilled him about what it was like to be a CSI. It had been some time since dinner had felt so lively, causing Oliver to think about Barry leaving to head back to Central City soon. He looked down at his setting at the table, quiet.

“Everything okay, Ollie?”

Oliver looked up to see all three people around the table staring at him with worry. He smiled, silently grateful for their concern. “I’m fine. Just kind of dreading having to eat dinner tomorrow without Barry around to liven things up.”

“Maybe he can stay the night?” William asked, his eyes pleading with his father. “You guys are dating, right? He has such cool stories about the Flash. Can he stay for just one night, please?”

Oliver opened his mouth to reply, but his phone buzzed in his pocket, interrupting him. Glancing at it, he saw the tell-tale name on the screen issuing a slight emergency with the others. He glanced up at Barry, then at William. “Sorry. I have to run for a bit.”

William cast a nervous glance at Barry, who nodded. “Is there trouble?” he asked.

“Felicity needs my help with something, is all,” Oliver said, moving around the table to kiss the top of William’s head. “Barry and Raisa will be here, I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Okay. Be careful,” William said.

“What he said,” Barry added, pointing at Oliver’s son. This was met with a warm smile as Oliver exited the room.

It was well past ten by the time Oliver returned to the apartment, tired and battered from a gang causing issues outside of the Glades. He looked around the still, dark living room, almost expecting thugs to jump him at this point, slowly managing to shake off his Green Arrow-induced paranoia and make his way to the hallway. The light was on, and William’s door was open. Oliver took a step forward, but stopped as he heard...was...was that singing ?

“You won’t need me forever,
But I’ll still be here,
For we all have our nightmares
Even me, my dear.
From now on, if you need me,
You can sing this song
There’s a light in the hallway,
Burning all night long.”

Oliver’s breath caught in his chest. Barry was singing to his son. There, standing in the brightly lit hallway, Oliver’s balance wavered. He caught himself on the wall before he fell. His vision blurred, and his face burned. His grip tightened on the jacket in his hand, and his heart threatened to beat straight out of his rib cage.

Barry appeared in the hallway, giving Oliver a grin as he turned and closed William’s door quietly, leaving it cracked. He stepped up and threw his arms around Oliver, but before he could say anything, he saw the tears falling down his face. Concerned, Barry led Oliver into the living room, where he helped him sit down.

“Ollie, what is it?” Barry asked quietly. The look of concern on his face twisted Oliver’s stomach even further.

Oliver couldn’t find the strength to reply for a moment, so he just shook his head and took a deep breath. Finally, “You, uh, you have a beautiful voice.”

Barry blushed, squeezing his hand on Oliver’s knee. “That’s not why you’re crying. You’re Oliver Queen. You don’t cry.”

He was right. Oliver Queen was a statue. He only let his emotions show out of obligation, not out of domination. But this was different. He hung his head, wiping his eyes with one hand. “I just never expected-” His voice cracked, interrupting him. He paused, composing himself once more. “I didn’t think you’d be so good with a kid his age.”

“You don’t sing to kids in their tweens, Ollie.” Barry squeezed his knee again. “William’s still processing what happened to his mother. He asked if I could stay with him until he fell asleep.” Barry chuckled and shrugged. “He said he felt safer knowing the Flash was looking out for him while his dad was out being a hero to other people.”

Oliver sobbed into a laugh. “He knew?”

“I think he knew after the first story,” Barry admitted. “I guess I was pretty bad at separating my experiences from Barry’s experiences.”

Oliver reached down and took Barry’s hand. “Thank you. And I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For thinking William and I weren’t ready to have someone else in our lives.”

Barry’s lopsided smirk faded, his eyes softening. He squeezed Oliver’s hand. “I’ve never felt more honored in anything I’ve ever done.”

Oliver dropped his gaze, looking instead at their clasped hands. “I love you, Barry.”

Another squeeze. “I love you, too, Oliver.”

Oliver sniffed and looked up at Barry, a sad smile on his face. “So, I know we said we’d ‘use’ my bed this time, but maybe we can just sleep tonight?”

Barry laughed. “Of course.”

Barry pulled Oliver over to him and put his arms around his shoulders. They stayed like that for a long time, unaware of passing time. It all just felt right .