Title: Lullaby
Author: Diva0789
Fandom: Arrow (CW)
Pairing: Oliver Queen/John Diggle
Genre: Romance. Slash.
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: None.
Completed: YES.
Disclaimer: Not Mine. Never Will Be.
Summary: Just a little porn ficlet. Ollie can’t sleep without John beside him.
A/N: Also posted on Ao3.
I rated this mature because, while there is sex – there is no penetration.
Thanks to nostalgic-musings from tumblr and my friend Lillith for looking this over for me.
I know I’m kinda jumping the slash ship here, but I couldn’t help myself. I’m still getting a hold of the characters, so it might be a little OOC. Just a warning.
This was written before episode four aired, so what took place in the episode isn’t mentioned.
~*~
Oliver Queen was used to not sleeping. He’d rarely slept deeply on the island, and as soon as he returned home the nightmares had started up again.
And then there was John.
It hadn’t been easy at first. John was good man with strong values. What Oliver was doing hadn’t sat well with him; but over time that changed. He was as involved in The Hood’s schemes as Oliver was now. Oliver did his best to keep John away from the actual fighting. John didn’t have a secret identity to protect him. He couldn’t lose anyone else.
John seemed to understand because he never protested when Oliver asked him to keep away from certain areas. It also helped with an alibi. Oliver had realized that, as unlikely as it was, people would eventually notice that Oliver was never in the same room at the same time with The Hood. John kept up his bodyguard duties even if Oliver wasn’t there anymore. Whenever Detective Lance got in his face, John was there to back up whatever story he spouted.
He knew the lying didn’t really sit well with John, but he did it to protect Oliver.
It hadn’t taken long for them to fall into bed together. Oliver was broken and John…he understood that Oliver didn’t need to be fixed – he just wanted to feel safe.
John gave him that.
Ollie sighed as he shifted on the floor rug once more. John was working late. There was several charity things coming up, and with the violence that followed Oliver around – and his mother’s fear of The Hood – John was required to coordinate as his family’s head of security.
Realizing he wasn’t going to be getting any sleep without John, Oliver climbed nimbly to his feet and headed for the shower.
He slept in the bed when he was with John. Oliver was used to sleeping on a cave floor – John was not. He didn’t mind it so much when he had John beside him. When John wasn’t though? He couldn’t stand it; hence the floor.
He stripped quickly and stepped into the burning hot spray. Hot showers were something he’d missed ridiculously on the island. He tended to linger when he didn’t have anywhere else to be.
He wasn’t sure how long he’d been in the shower when he felt a draft of cool air. He turned his head and smiled when he saw John stripping his suit off through the glass. He reached for the knob to turn down the hot water a bit so he wouldn’t burn his lover and waited for the big man to join him. He loved that John was broader than him. Loved how safe he felt with those thick arms around him.
Oliver had always worn a mask, even before the ship went under. All the drinking and partying hadn’t been just because he was bored. He wasn’t comfortable with the way he looked at men. He’d been afraid. He’d loved Laurel, but he’d always been drawn to a pair of long legs and broad shoulders. And when Laurel hadn’t been enough to stop the thoughts or the wanting? He’d started sleeping with anyone who even hinted they might be interested. Tommy though it was great. Oliver had hated himself.
Now? He was less concerned with his attraction for men. He had John and that was all he needed. His focus was on other things.
John’s big hands gripped his hips and pulled him back to rest comfortably against the bigger man’s chest.
Oliver hummed in pleasure, relaxing.
“Couldn’t sleep?” John asked softly.
Oliver shook his head, “Not without you.”
He sighed when he felt John’s lips moving over his shoulders and throat, his hands smoothing over his slick skin; not ignoring the scars, but not lingering either. He just melted when John reached his cock and started playing with it; rubbing the thick head softly, teasing the length, and reaching down to rub his balls. He reached back over his shoulder with one arm, curving his hand around John’s head, pulling him closer as he moaned softly and shifted his stance, giving John more room to work.
“John,” he murmured.
“Shhh,” John whispered, “I’ll take care of you.”
Oliver didn’t doubt him for a second, but his pleading must have moved John somehow because he gripped Oliver’s cock firmly and started to stroke.
Ollie couldn’t help his low moan. He loved John’s hands so much, especially when they were on his body. He tried to keep his whimpers and moans quiet, but he couldn’t help himself. He was touch starved and John always gave him what he needed. He body arched and squirmed in John’s embrace; he gave himself completely over to John and the pleasure John created for him.
It had been so long. Five miserably long years without anyone’s touch but his own. After a while he’d stopped masturbating. He’d had no desire for anything but off that forsaken island.
He gasped hard, his body tensing.
“John, John, John,” he groaned and then his cock erupted and he cried out, turning his face into John’s, wanting to be closer as his cock jerked with each pulse of his release.
His cries trailed off into whimpers and mewls that John swallowed with his drugging kisses. His body shook. It didn’t matter how often John touched him; his body was unused to the release, especially with the intensity John inspired in him.
After a few minutes he calmed enough to turn in John’s arms for a proper kiss, a hand trailing down the bigger man’s chest to reach his erect cock. John pulled him closer with a quiet moan as he wrapped his hand firmly around the thick cock and stroked, greedy for John’s pleasure. He wasn’t gentle. John preferred a tight grip and rough strokes and Oliver wanted to give John everything he needed.
“Give it to me,” he whispered, “Please, John.”
John made a rough, broken sound and came; biting down on Oliver’s shoulder to muffle his loud groan of pleasure. Oliver couldn’t help his own moans, but he pressed his face against John’s to try and quiet them.
Eventually they settled and Oliver slipped his arms around John’s waist, hands coming up to stroke his shoulder blades as he relaxed into John’s embrace. John held him tightly, just the way he liked; their slick, warm skin pressed together, his hand drifting below the waist to stroke the cheek of Oliver’s ass possessively.
Ollie sighed in contentment.
“Bed?” John asked quietly.
“Bed.” Ollie agreed.
They cut the water, stepped out and dried off quickly before making their way into Oliver’s room. John kept walking to the door, naked as the day he was born. Ollie watched him double check the locks on the door so they wouldn’t be interrupted or caught. John was gorgeous; big, dark, and so protective.
Oliver slipped under the covers and waited for John to come back, slipping into bed with him and pulling him close.
He wiggled until he found a comfortable position, draped half over John and then sighed.
Now he could sleep.
~The End~
A/N:
Thanks for reading!
Also, this is the first thing I’ve written in nearly a year. So, be gentle?
ConCrit is appreciated – Flames are not.
Diva0789 