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"Oliver?" The other man doesn't look up and Barry sighs. "Oliver, do you know where you're going?"

"We aren't going anywhere Barry."

"Just because we don't have a fixed destination doesn't mean I appreciate being lost."

"We're not lost, Barry."

Barry smirks. "Okay. Whatever you say, hun."

Oliver's raises a brow, but he still stares intently at the map. "Hun?"

"Yep."

"You don't call me pet names unless you want something from me."

Barry raises his hand in mock surrender. "Fine. I want to stop at a hotel."

"Why?"

"We've been driving all day. It's late. And we're lost."

Oliver frowns. "Fine. You win. A hotel." Oliver starts the car. But you're responsible for finding one."

"I would," Barry says calmly, "But we have no signal." Oliver tries to frown at Barry gets back on the highway, but amusement wins over and he smiles. 

"I'll stop at the nearest rest stop. I have to use the bathroom anyway."

"You could've peed in the bushes back there."

"Stop."

 


"I found a hotel."

"Not now Barry."

"It's a small inn on Exit 95."

"Barry I know where you're going with this and I swear if you say it--"

"We could've been there if the car hadn't broke down."

Barry really should know better. Oliver's the Arrow for Christ's sake. The kid's really pushing his luck.

Although he is right. Their car has broken down. And it's one o' clock in the morning and, once again, Oliver and Barry find themselves at the side of the highway.

"Am I lying?"

Oliver sighs. He looks up from the hood of the car and says, "If I say no will you let me fix the car?"

Barry snickers. "Maybe."

"It's worth the chance. No, Barry Allen, you aren't lying."

Barry's triumphant smile (Barry's everything, in fact) is preventing Oliver from being frustrated. It's virtually impossible to be frustrated when he's around Barry. That's why he said yes to this "road trip," although that term might not be entirely accurate because aren't you supposed to know where you're going in order for it to be a trip?

It takes a bit, but Oliver finally gets the car up and running. He slams the hood down and exclaims, "Finally! Where was that inn you said?"

"Exit 95," Barry says, then he frowns. "But babe--"

"What is it now?"

Oliver reads Barry's smile as Sorry babe! I'm about to say something annoying and cute. "Do you think we could stop off to get some snacks? I know we could've picked some up at the rest stop, but I wasn't really hungry then, and I..." He trails off.

Silence. Then Oliver mutters, "You're lucky I love you."

"Awwww! That's the sweetest thing--"

"Barry."


 

"No."

"It's not that much! Add you know how my metabolism is."

"Yeah. But right now I don't exactly have the money to buy twenty-seven bags of Lay's barbecue chips."

"You can have a couple of bags."

Oliver can sense the small amount of people in the store watching them, can feel their confusion and second-hand embarrassment. But Barry seems immune to it, because he continues to stand with five bags of chips in his hand.

"I don't want any chips, Barry."

"You said you were hungry too." Barry smiles. "And besides, I wouldn't be hungry if a certain someone hadn't refused to stop for directions until it was too late."

Oliver laughs to keep from screaming. "We'll order Chinese when we get to the inn."

"I want chips now, Oliver."

"You sound like a five year old child."

"Fine. Sorry, sweetie."

Oliver's cheeks turn a bright red and Barry smiles. "That's cute."

"Not now Barry." Oliver's said the phrase "not now" more times during this trip than in his entire life. 

"Okay. How about I get ten bags of chips, and I'll pay for it? We can still get Chinese, since I'll be hungry when we get there."

"I'll pay for half."

"No, you pay for the other seventeen bags of chips I want."

"Barry!" Oliver exclaims, and by now the entire store is staring at them. But Barry just winks and heads over to the cashier.

Barry's cocky, Oliver knows that from all their training sessions. There's a voice in his brain nagging him to shut him up when they gets to the inn.


 

"Well," Barry says, panting, "That was unexpected."

Oliver laughs, his voice just as breathy. "Well, you've been annoying me all day. Thought I'd shut you up."

"I thought you said you loved me."

"I do."

"Awwww, look how sappy you are. If everyone knew the real you like I did, no one would ever believe you're the Arrow."

With a role of his eyes, Oliver rolls off of Barry. His clothes are sticky and sweaty, and fatigue is starting to set in. "I'm going to go shower," Oliver calls.

"You're ordering Chinese afterwards, right?"

"Barry, it's six in the morning. We just had sex with our clothes on. I don't think Chinese is the best option right now."

"You promised."

"Tomorrow."

"Chinese for breakfast?"

"Chinese for breakfast." Oliver didn't think he was the type of person who ate Chinese food for breakfast.

But a long time ago, he didn't think he could make Barry Allen happy, but we all know how that turned out.