Work Text:
“It might be inappropriate for you to continue as my executive assistant,” Oliver says solemnly.
Straddling his hips, wearing nothing but her glasses, Felicity tilts her head to the side. “It might be?”
He’s fully dressed, leaning back against her headboard. Her hips feel lush under his hands, and if he gives them a little pinch, she’ll squirm. “Miss Smoak, where do you see yourself in five years?”
Too much pinch. She squeaks, jumps, and collapses into giggles on his chest. “How about ‘naked in my boss’ lap’?” she says into his neck, a little breathless. “Or would that be unprofessional? Come to think of it, it would be extremely professional, if I were in that profession. Which I’m not, despite popular opinion at QC.”
Gently, he takes hold of her shoulders and sits her back up. “Not funny.”
Her smile twists into something wry. “Your secret identity is a billionaire playboy. Mine is your blonde secretary with no relevant experience.” She kisses him on the nose. Loudly. “It’s a little funny.”
“Do you want the IT department?” he says, all joking aside.
She laughs anyway. “What? No. There goes all the convenience and closeness we’ve got now, and it would not look one bit better.”
He doesn’t mean to brood, but that must be what’s happening, because she tips his chin up and makes him look her in the eyes. He sighs. “I should probably give you my job.”
“If your name weren’t on the building in letters thirty feet high, that would be a great idea.”
He finally asks the obvious question, which should have been the first one. “What do you want to do?”
She sits back on his thighs. “What we’re doing right now works pretty well.”
“You’re not concerned with the fact that, on paper, we’re still employer and employee?”
“I know things the paper doesn’t know,” she says, scooting in close and rolling her hips against his. “It works, babe. Let’s keep doing it.”
“But,” how can he put this tactfully? “Popular opinion at QC – “
She uses a variation on his favorite tactic for stopping her rambles, but the kiss she pulls him into does not land on her mouth. Her nipple is already hard against his tongue. “Oliver. Seriously. Not even caring.”
They keep doing what they’ve been doing.
It works pretty well, if he does say so himself.