Word Count: 563
Warnings/Spoilers: none/none, post series
Disclaimer: all characters belong to the WB/CW
Summary: Clark finds Oliver in his bed. Or does he?
A/N: for cw_land's Big Bang Challenge, prompt: fantasy
The last thing Clark expected to see when he walked into his bedroom that evening was Oliver Queen. Sure, he was used to Oliver barging into his house univited by now and considering he pulled the same thing on the other man more often than not, he really couldn’t complain.
But this wasn’t like any other situation. No, this time, Oliver was in his bed. Not only was he in his bed, but he didn’t appear to be wearing any clothes, though he was only visible from the waist up.
“So,” Clark said, trying to keep his voice casual. “Are you making a habit out of this?” He had heard how Oliver had tried to … distract Tess, when she had almost caught him in his Green Arrow gear. It never crossed his mind he would ever experience it first hand though.
Clark was greeted with a smirk. “Maybe. I’m hoping for a different response this time around though,” Oliver retorted.
“I’m afraid you’re going to be disappointed,” Clark said, trying not to blush. “Please tell me that you’re not completely naked under there.”
“Why don’t you come here and find out yourself?” Oliver challenged, grinning. “I promise that I don’t bite.” His smile widened. “Unless, of course, you wanted me to.”
This time, Clark couldn’t hold back the blush. “I don’t get it. What are you doing?”
“If you don’t get it by now, then obviously I’m doing it wrong,” Oliver replied, leaning back into the pillows. “Clearly I’m trying to seduce you. I would’ve been more subtle but well, you don’t respond to my flirting so this is my last resort.”
“But … but … why me?” Clark sputtered. “And wait, flirting?” Normally, he would be embarrassed by his inability to speak properly (even more so now that he was a reporter) but he figured the situation was a … unique one.
“Oh, Clark,” Oliver sighed. “How can someone with x-ray vision be so oblivious? Yes, flirting. Anyone with eyes can see I’m crazy about you.”
Crazy? About him? But Oliver possibly couldn’t feel like he did, could he? No, wealthy, handsome playboys who could have anyone they wanted didn’t fall for farmboys-turned-reporters.
This had to be a dream.
“It’s not a dream,” Oliver said suddenly.
“Are you reading my mind?” Clark asked curiously, slowly making his way to him.
“I don’t need to,” Oliver told him. “Your emotions are written all over your face. Why don’t you come over here and I’ll show you exactly how real this is?”
“Is this a game?” Clark wondered, stopping right by him. “What do you want from me?”
In one quick move, Oliver sat up and pulled Clark to him. “Everything,” he said softly.
Clark leaned forward, caught up in the moment, ready to capture those perfect lips, finally taking what he had wanted for so long and …
Promptly fell out of his chair. Startled, he looked around. What just happened? He was not in his bedroom at all. No, he was in his office at the Daily Planet.
Was that just a dream? Well, technically he had never gone to sleep so … a fantasy? Oh God, I was fantasizing about Oliver Queen. And it had felt so real too!
But the worst part was that he desperately wished it was real. And there was nothing he could do about it.