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“Ollie, careful!” Laurel says, her grip tightening on Oliver's shoulders as she laughs into his mouth. They're at her (mercifully empty) house and both of them are more than a little tipsy - to the point that Ollie is reaching out with both hands to stop himself bumping Laurel against the doorframe to her room. “You're gonna drop me if you're not careful.”
“You're so bossy,” Ollie complains, and it's obvious he wants to sound grumpy but he doesn't quite manage it when his tone is still edged with clear amusement and more than a tinge of arousal. (That and Laurel gets the feeling that he likes being told what to do.) “I told you the couch would be fine.”
“You're not the one who has to sit and watch reality TV with her dad on that couch and keep a straight face after everything we -”
Ollie interrupts her with a kiss, open-mouthed and sloppy, so she can taste alcohol on her tongue and playful laughter in the back of her throat.
“I guess I'm here now,” he says against her lips. “We're here now.”
“I'm glad we are,” she replies, and it's not that their smiles fade, exactly, more that the intensity that has been growing between them the last week is suddenly pushing its way to the fore.
“So am I. I've missed you,” Ollie says softly.
“We've literally spent the last four hours together -” she starts to say, but then she catches on, noticing the burning way his eyes sparkle as he watches her with sudden sobriety. “Oh. You mean you've missed me.”
“Yeah,” he whispers, just before Laurel kisses him back, and it seems that's Ollie's cue to move from where they are in the doorway. His shirt is already off and she's down to her skirt and bra, but as he fumbles behind her to undo the clasp while attempting to lower her onto the bed, Ollie somehow loses his footing and they both fall in a heap to the floor.
And for a second Laurel wonders if the spell is broken by the slight pain in the back of her head where she fell backwards, but once Ollie peers at her and sees she's okay their eyes meet and Laurel barely realises her shoulders beginning to shake. Oliver laughs too, and in that moment his weight is warm, not uncomfortable, on top of her, and his eyes light up with sheepish laughter.
“Sorry,” he whispers, and with a pant he gets to his feet and holds out his hand to help her up.
She grins back, and once she's on her feet too she stands on her tiptoes, arms going around his neck, and answers him with a kiss. “It's okay,” she replies, and rather spontaneously she pushes at his chest until he's lying on his back so she can straddle him. Ollie looks surprised for a moment (this is still - kind of - new territory for them both, after all - or at least territory that neither of them have gone near in three years) but then he smiles up at her, letting her explore his abdomen with her palms.
Her hand moves down a bit, so she can feel the tension in him as he exhales slowly. She wants to move her hand down more, but something stops her and she pauses. But then, unexpectedly, Ollie's hand closes gently around Laurel's wrist and their eyes meet once more.
“Do you want me to stop?” she says uncertainly.
Oliver doesn't answer, instead putting his free hand on the back of her neck, lowering her mouth to his in a careful kiss (with just the slightest scraping of his teeth against her lip). At the same time, though, the hand he has around her wrist tugs hers lower, and when Laurel's knuckles brush against the hardness in his pants, a shiver goes right up and down her spine.
She presses down harder - he groans this time and once again she hesitates.
This time, though, he reaches up and kisses her, pulling her more firmly onto his lap, and says quietly, “I'm okay, pretty bird.”
“Just - having deja vu?” she asks, her hand pressing a soft line down his jaw.
“Something like that,” Ollie admits.
“We don't have to -”
“I want to.”
Laurel wriggles a bit, the friction the movement causes making him groan again, and then her bra is off and when she kisses him this time it's - different. And not just because they're eighteen this time, or because up until now the pace they've gone has been lazy, languid, the two of them taking the time to get to re-know each other, or even because her bare breasts are now flush against Ollie as he moves to kiss her neck.
No. It's different because when, later, she feels him kiss the top of her head and she nestles more comfortably against his chest, the words “I love you” leave both their mouths at the same time. And this time Laurel wonders, heart brimming with hope as her eyes widen with incredulous pleasure in time with Oliver, if this could be the start of something that will last forever.