Despite all potential evidence to the contrary previously, Oliver Queen was getting fucking sick of coffee running his life.
Of having to hole up with Mia and an espresso machine in the other side of the apartment when Kate had to absolutely not be distracted in the mornings, just so they could get a quick cup in before work and school.
Of brushing his teeth in his office bathroom before he went home so his wife wouldn't jump him (this happened, and it was fun only the first half dozen times, seriously).
Of the fact that he couldn't kiss Kate anymore, deep in the fog and fire of passion, without that unmissable taste and tang coming along with it. Not even when she'd just had him in her mouth, brought him to his knees with some serious tongue talent; not even kissing her after he'd knelt between her legs and made her scream. It was always there, in the background or layered fine across the top.
They'd tried, of course, to make it work otherwise, but even when they seemed close to having a breakthrough, it never seemed to last. She was stuck this way until her brain rewired itself, which could take months, even years.
It wasn't like Kate and Ollie weren't able to talk through it, to express frustration, to figure things out on a psychological level. It was the emotional level that was the problem, and it wasn't like either of them were particularly good at getting that right. Even when they put in an effort, they were still raging against the invisible bonds that restricted them, including this one.
Poetic, and probably apt to both personalities. It just didn't get them anywhere.
"Look, Ollie, I think you're going at this the wrong way," Mar'i said to him, sipping her cafeteria smoothie through a long curly straw. "You're taking it from a negative approach rather than a positive one."
"But it is a negative."
Mar'i sighed and pursed her lips around the end of the straw for a moment, chewing on it a couple of times as if she were biting back retorts. "Don't whine, Oliver," she said finally, and made a face back at him as he stuck out his tongue at her. "That's the first thing. Second is that it's pretty sound psychology--if you're going to train someone to do something, to make those neural connections, positive reinforcement always, always gets the best results."
Ollie considered this for a second, then sighed. "I'm just so goddamn sick of coffee," he admitted. "I mean, yeah, it could be worse, it could be like, I don't know, needing to wear a pony tail and riding crop or something--not judging, just REALLY not my thing--to have fulfilling sex. But I miss how things were. I want it to be like that again, and both of us know it can't."
"Then maybe you need to make what it is now really damn good," Mar'i said, eyes narrowing as she looked at him. "Make this just as special."
"Yeah," Ollie said, and folded his hands in front of him on the table, staring down at them, at skin and callus and nails and her ring. Hers. "Actually, Mar'i...I think I might have something."
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clouds in my coffee, part two (Kate/coffee)
Date: 2013-04-21 11:03 pm (UTC)Of having to hole up with Mia and an espresso machine in the other side of the apartment when Kate had to absolutely not be distracted in the mornings, just so they could get a quick cup in before work and school.
Of brushing his teeth in his office bathroom before he went home so his wife wouldn't jump him (this happened, and it was fun only the first half dozen times, seriously).
Of the fact that he couldn't kiss Kate anymore, deep in the fog and fire of passion, without that unmissable taste and tang coming along with it. Not even when she'd just had him in her mouth, brought him to his knees with some serious tongue talent; not even kissing her after he'd knelt between her legs and made her scream. It was always there, in the background or layered fine across the top.
They'd tried, of course, to make it work otherwise, but even when they seemed close to having a breakthrough, it never seemed to last. She was stuck this way until her brain rewired itself, which could take months, even years.
It wasn't like Kate and Ollie weren't able to talk through it, to express frustration, to figure things out on a psychological level. It was the emotional level that was the problem, and it wasn't like either of them were particularly good at getting that right. Even when they put in an effort, they were still raging against the invisible bonds that restricted them, including this one.
Poetic, and probably apt to both personalities. It just didn't get them anywhere.
"Look, Ollie, I think you're going at this the wrong way," Mar'i said to him, sipping her cafeteria smoothie through a long curly straw. "You're taking it from a negative approach rather than a positive one."
"But it is a negative."
Mar'i sighed and pursed her lips around the end of the straw for a moment, chewing on it a couple of times as if she were biting back retorts. "Don't whine, Oliver," she said finally, and made a face back at him as he stuck out his tongue at her. "That's the first thing. Second is that it's pretty sound psychology--if you're going to train someone to do something, to make those neural connections, positive reinforcement always, always gets the best results."
Ollie considered this for a second, then sighed. "I'm just so goddamn sick of coffee," he admitted. "I mean, yeah, it could be worse, it could be like, I don't know, needing to wear a pony tail and riding crop or something--not judging, just REALLY not my thing--to have fulfilling sex. But I miss how things were. I want it to be like that again, and both of us know it can't."
"Then maybe you need to make what it is now really damn good," Mar'i said, eyes narrowing as she looked at him. "Make this just as special."
"Yeah," Ollie said, and folded his hands in front of him on the table, staring down at them, at skin and callus and nails and her ring. Hers. "Actually, Mar'i...I think I might have something."
((TBC))