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"How do you even know how to do this?"
"Thea."
"Oh, right," Felicity nodded.
"Hey! Stop moving, Felicity!" Oliver growled and gripped her strands of hair.
"Ow!" So, of course, she yanked away from him and turned her head. "That—"
"Can you ju—"
They both stopped talking. Their noses were awkwardly pressed together. Oliver’s arm was wrapped around Felicity’s head with his fingers tangled in the remains of the French braid.
"I swear. To. GOD. If you do NOT fucking kiss her RIGHT NOW, Oliver, I’m either gonna shoot you or walk out of here and never look back."
They both turned their heads to look at Diggle. Felicity started to say something, but when Digg released the catch on his holster, Oliver forced her head to turn back and he pressed his lips against hers, hard.
Silence.
Felicity was frozen, not sure what or why, and not sure how or if she should respond…
So Oliver groaned, wrapped his free arm around her and pulled her into him. He opened his mouth, licked her lips and caressed the back of her head with his tangled fingers.
When she started to talk again, he slipped in and was rewarded with the feel of her low moan into his mouth. He felt her body relax, her hands resting on his waist.
He finally pulled back enough to look into her eyes. She simply stared back into his.
Bang!
"Hey, you guys all have your phones off, or are you just igno—" Roy skidded to a stop beside Diggle, who was smirking, arms folded, propped against a table, and unashamedly watching his friends.
"Huh, what’d I miss?" Roy asked.