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Chapter 12!

Thanks to everyone for sticking with me! Hope you all enjoy this chapter as well! :)

Story: Never Say Goodbye
Pairing/Characters: Collie, Lollie, Chlimmy, Lexana, mentions of past Clana
Rating: R
Disclaimer: don’t own anything
Warning: slash, mentions of m/m sex
Spoilers: season 6, starts at 6x04, Arrow
Summary: That night at the penthouse was not the first time Clark met Oliver Queen. He has met him before but he just doesn’t remember where or when. But as the memories return, Clark finds out that his fateful summer in Metropolis is not as long gone as he thought it was.

Chapter 12

The officer didn’t ask too many questions so Clark was free to go. He had to duck reporters who were all vying for his attention and headed back into the museum. Immediately, he searched for Oliver. When he spotted him, he made his way over.

“Hi,” he said, gaining his attention. “How are you feeling?” Earlier, he had seen police officers talking to Oliver.

“I’m fine,” Oliver said, “Had to answer a few questions . . . how about you? The press and police didn’t bother you too much, did they?”

“They were just doing their jobs,” Clark assured him. “And it was okay . . . I managed.”

“Want to head out?” Oliver offered. “The journalists should be gone by now.”

“Yeah, let’s go,” Clark agreed.

The paparazzi was still around but they managed to make it back to the limo with little problem. Once they were inside, he relaxed. But he could feel Oliver’s eyes watching him.

He met Oliver’s gaze. “Is everything okay?”

“Clark,” Oliver said slowly, “You hugged me.”

“I didn’t make you uncomfortable did I?” Clark asked worriedly.

“No, no,” Oliver said quickly. “It’s just, you said something that caught my attention. You said I had a gun to my head again . . . what did that mean?”

Oh, god, was he stupid or what? He had been so happy Oliver had been okay, he hadn’t been thinking. Of course he had been referring to the first time he had saved Oliver’s life but Oliver didn’t know that!

“Did I say that?” Clark asked, trying to look confused. “I don’t remember.”

“You did,” Oliver said, “You’ve never seen me with a gun to my head before.”

“I don’t know, Oliver, I don’t remember,” Clark lied. “I mean, you got shot before . . . Lex shot you, remember? I must’ve been thinking about that.”

Oliver didn’t look convinced. “But you didn’t see me get shot.”

“Oliver, I don’t know!” Clark said, “I really don’t remember what you are talking about . . . I was scared for you. I was babbling . . . don’t take it too seriously.”

“All right,” Oliver replied, “I suppose you’re right.” But he knew that the other man didn’t buy his explanation for a second. At least he had dropped the subject though.

There was no more talking for the rest of the ride . . . just an awkward silence, with neither of them knowing what to say. Clark was relieved when they finally reached the farm.

“See you later,” he said, exiting the limo but was stopped when Oliver grabbed his arm. He looked back at him.

“Clark,” Oliver said, letting go of his arm. “Thank you . . . for saving me today. I’m really glad I went with you.”

He smiled. “You’re welcome. I’m just happy I was lucky enough to be there.” Without another word, he left, closing the door behind him.

But only when the limo disappeared from sight did he enter the house. His mom was there waiting for him and she hugged him the minute he was inside.

“Clark, I heard what happened,” she said, concern evident in her voice. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine mom,” he assured her.

“Is Oliver okay?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he replied, “He’s good. And don’t worry, nobody saw me do anything out of the ordinary.”

“I know that,” Martha said, “You’re not careless with your abilities.”

He smiled at her confident tone. “I’m sorry I worried you,” he said, “I should’ve called . . .”

“It’s okay,” Martha responded, “I knew you were fine . . . I saw it on the news. But I was just worried.” She smiled. “You may be older now but you’ll always be my little boy.”

He hugged her gently. “I know, mom,” he said, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” his mom told him.

He was truly lucky. Sometimes he went into self pity mode but he really felt happy about his life. He missed his dad like crazy but he had a lot of good memories with him. And his mom was still there. A stable household, caring friends . . . what more could he ask for?

His heart ached for Oliver . . . what was the other man doing? Going home to an empty penthouse. He suddenly felt guilty at how short he had been with him.

I’ll go call him now, he thought. He pulled away from his mother. “I hope I didn’t pull you from work,” he said.

“No, I was finished,” she assured him. “I’m making dinner.”

“Need help?” he offered.

“I’m fine,” she laughed, “I’ve made pie . . . so why don’t you go get cleaned up? You must be tired.”

“Pie,” he repeated, smiling, “Mom, you always to know how make a guy’s day.” She laughed again.

He made his way upstairs and as soon as he got into his room, he pulled out his phone. He dialed the familiar number and waited. One ring, two rings, three rings . . . finally, at the fifth ring, Oliver picked up.

“Queen here,” Oliver said. He sounded out of breath, as if he had run for his phone.

“Oliver, it’s Clark,” he said.

“Oh hey Clark,” Oliver said. “Everything okay?”

“I was just checking to see if you got back okay and if you were holding up all right,” Clark told him.

“That’s nice of you,” Oliver replied. “I’m fine though. How are you?”

“I’m fine,” Clark said, “Is this a bad time?” Oliver was always polite but he could tell he was a little impatient.

“Oh no,” Oliver said, “Lois is here.”

“Oh,” Clark said, understanding. “Sorry to interrupt.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Oliver was quick to assure him. “She heard what happened and came to check on me.”

His heart sank, as he wondered how exactly she was taking care of him. But he knew exactly what the two of them must’ve been up to when he called.

“That’s good then,” Clark said. “I should go . . . I just called to check in. I’ll let you get back to Lois.”

“Thanks for calling Clark,” Oliver said.

“You’re welcome,” Clark responded.

“Talk to you later then?” Oliver said.

“Yeah, bye Oliver,” Clark said and hung up.

Closing his phone, he went to take a shower. He needed to distract himself from that phone call and the images that were popping up in his head. But all he could think of was Oliver and Lois . . . Oliver and Lois on Oliver’s bed, on the couch . . . just together. Tears prickled in the back of his eyes as he realized that they would be having sex on the same bed that the two of them shared years ago.

He had no doubt that the couple was sexually active but he preferred to remain in denial about their relationship. After his most recent phone call, he couldn’t do that. It was time to accept the situation for what it was. Oliver was crazy about Lois and had nothing but friendly feelings for Clark. And he, clearly a masochist, had fallen in love with Oliver, another person he couldn’t have.

The rest of the evening moved by slowly. Dinner was excellent, his mom a wonderful cook as always, but the food wasn’t giving him as much satisfaction as it usually did. Even the pie, which was his absolute favorite food in the world, did nothing to get him out of his depression.

His mom noticed his change of attitude but she didn’t say anything, knowing that if he wanted to talk, he would. At this point, he was content with just wallowing.

After dinner, he headed straight to bed, where sleep did not come easy. He was tossing and turning for hours before he finally drifted off. His dreams, he found, were much more pleasant than reality, filled with Oliver and no Lois, just the way he liked them.

However, dreams eventually ended and when the sunlight hit his eyes the next morning, he groaned, trying to bury his head back in the pillow.

To his surprise, there was no pillow around. He opened his eyes and looked down, finding himself a good five feet off the bed. He let out a tiny yelp and ended up falling back onto the bed.

Floating . . . of course. He thought he had stopped doing that years ago. At least he landed on the bed and it didn’t break. Clark stared the ceiling for a few minutes before turning to his side, ready to get out of bed.

His eyes fell on the doorway and he froze. Because standing there staring at him was none other than the man responsible for his good dreams. Oliver was looking at him, his expression a mix between bewilderment and wonder.

Clark opened and closed his mouth several times, words not cooperating with him.

“Good morning?” he said, weakly.

“Good morning,” Oliver replied. He was still staring and that was when it hit Clark that he was just dressed in pajama pants. Usually, he didn’t sleep with a shirt on and he was thankful that the previous night he had chosen to wear pants. Most nights he just slept in his boxers.

He blushed furiously immediately upon his realization. “So,” he said, avoiding Oliver’s gaze, “When did you get here?”

“Your mom let me in as she was leaving,” Oliver explained, “She thought you’d be up.”

He glanced at the clock, and found it was already 9:30. “I must’ve overslept,” he said, “Most of the time, I’m awake by now.”

“It’s cool, even I sleep in now and then,” Oliver offered. Clark met his gaze and gave him a small smile.

“Well, I have to get dressed,” Clark said slowly.

“Should I come back later?” Oliver asked.

He shrugged. “If you want. I should be done soon . . .”

“I’ll wait,” Oliver told him.

“Okay,” Clark agreed. He walked toward Oliver but Oliver wasn’t moving, just watching him with an unreadable expression.

“Excuse me,” he said.

“Oh sorry,” Oliver said, moving so he could get past him.

“You know,” Clark commented as he was about to exit, “You don’t have to wait here. You can wait in the living room.”

That seemed to snap Oliver back to reality. “Yeah, of course,” Oliver said quickly, “I’ll just . . . go wait in the living room then.” Clark watched, confused, as Oliver headed out of the room and down the stairs.

Odd, he thought. Oliver had been acting strangely. He shook his head and went to the bathroom, ready to start his day.

After quick shower, he got dressed and went downstairs, where Oliver was sitting at the kitchen table, a lost look on his face.

“You okay?” Clark asked. Oliver smiled and nodded, not saying anything.

“Sorry,” Clark said, “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long.”

“It’s fine,” Oliver replied. Clark opened the fridge and starting looking through, deciding on what to do for breakfast.

“Can I get you anything?” Clark asked, pulling out eggs and the orange juice.

“No, I’m good,” Oliver responded.

Clark set the items on the table and searched through the kitchen for the proper pans. “You sure?” Clark asked, “I can whip something up. I’m doing it right now.”

“You cook?” Oliver asked, surprised.

“My mom taught me,” Clark said, “She realized that with my appetite, I needed to know how or when I live on my own, I’ll starve.” He grinned, “I’ve gotten pretty good at it, if I do say so myself. I promise I won’t poison you.”

Oliver laughed. “Thanks but I’m going to have to decline. It has nothing to do with your cooking abilities though. I’m just not a breakfast person.”

Clark frowned. “Not a breakfast person? So you . . .what, don’t eat breakfast? Hasn’t anyone ever told you breakfast is the most important meal of the day?” And when had he started becoming like his mother?

“I usually just stick with juice or something in the morning,” Oliver said, shrugging, “It’s no big deal.” Looking at Clark’s less than amused expression, he bit his lip. “Big deal?”

God, he’s adorable. He groaned inwardly. Who was he kidding? He would never get over Oliver Queen. This wasn’t anything like his feelings for Lana. Lana had been his childhood crush, a fantasy. He had idealized her and when they got together, he wasn’t expecting all the problems, hadn’t expected that she wasn’t perfect after all.

Lana too wanted to be saved and nobody could give her exactly what she wanted so she would never be satisfied. Privately, he wondered whether she would ever find someone. He knew for certain it wouldn’t be him that would spend eternity with her. Would it be Lex? Well, only time would tell now.

As for Oliver, the blonde was destined to find true love. Oliver himself may not believe it but he knew one day, somebody would capture that wonderful heart. The older man had so much love to give and Clark only wished that he would give that love to him.

Because if he did, Clark would do everything in his power to make him happy for the rest of their days. But alas, it was not meant to be. Friendship was all that was on the table and Clark would take whatever was given.

“Clark?” Oliver’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts and he met the now concerned brown eyes.

“Oliver,” he said, “I’ve made a decision.”

“Should I be worried?” Oliver asked.

“I’m going to make us breakfast,” Clark declared, “And you’re going to eat it.”

“Clark . . .” Oliver started.

“Now Oliver,” Clark interjected, “You don’t want to hurt my feelings do you?” He widened his eyes and gave a perfect pout.

“Clark why do you need powers anyway?” Oliver asked wryly, “If you flash that look at anyone, I think they’ll voluntarily give up.”

“Does that include you?” Clark questioned hopefully.

Oliver sighed. “That includes me.”

Clark grinned. “Great! Now you relax and prepare to be surprised! Do you have any allergies that I need to know of?”

“Just peanuts,” Oliver informed him.

Clark nodded slowly. “Okay, sounds good then. Do you have any aversions to anything? Hatred of eggs? Dislike of pancakes?”

“Clark,” Oliver said, sending him a warning glance.

Clark took great pleasure in ignoring him. Instead, he concentrated on the task at hand. Completely engrossed in cooking, he didn’t realize that Oliver’s eyes were trained firmly on him the entire time.

“Can I help?” Oliver asked.

“Just sit there and look pretty,” Clark responded.

“You think I’m pretty?” Oliver said in a teasing voice. Clark stopped as his words replayed in his mind. He could practically hear Oliver’s smirk.

No, he said silently, I think you’re beautiful. But he would never say those words aloud.

“Sure Oliver, you’re very pretty,” Clark joked.

“Why Clark,” Oliver said, batting his eyelashes playfully, “I never knew you felt that way.”

“Oh yes, didn’t you know?” Clark said dramatically, “I’m mad about you!” He placed a hand over his heart. “I just couldn’t deny it any longer.”

Oliver had stood up too and was trying to keep a straight face but his eyes were shining in mirth.

“Oh Clark, I’ve waited so long for you to say those lovely words!” Oliver proclaimed, “I think I’m going to pass out!” Then he proceeded to fall into Clark’s arms, continuing with their act and Clark caught him easily.

That was when the joke ended. Brown eyes met green and Oliver grew serious. The intensity of his gaze made him shiver. Oliver was moving closer, this time he wasn’t imaging it.

Clark didn’t push him away. Oliver came closer until his lips were barely an inch away from Clark’s. His eyes fluttered shut and Clark leaned in, ready to meet Oliver’s lips in what would be their first kiss in three years.

Chapter 13
Tags: category: slash, collie, fandom: smallville, fanfic, ship: clark/oliver, story: never say goodbye
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