Ficlet in response to the AU prompt "hugged the wrong person from behind" chosen by meghanqueen and an anon on tumblr as part of the AU fic meme I'm doing to celebrate hitting the 1K followers mark :)

Hope you guys like it!


It dawns on her almost instantly.

The several extra inches in height. The husky smell that, though unfamiliar, feels simply right. The impossibly toned abs beneath her hands. The broad back against her front.

This definitely isn't Tommy.

Frozen in place Felicity lingers still clutching non-Tommy, blue eyes widening when said best friend comes back into his bedroom and halts by the threshold at the sight that greets him.

The stranger's middle rumbles against her hands then, his throaty laugher breaking the deafening silence and finally re-starting her brain function; hands leaving taut muscles as if she were burning.

Next he's turning around until their eyes meet; her jaw now on the floor, her skin turning a deeper shade of red by the minute.

She can blame slumber really: having just woken up from a much needed nap on the spare room next door and then proceeding to hug who appears to be the handsomest man alive (because seriously, who would've second-guessed walking back to your best friend's room and finding a man wearing his hoodie?)

"You are not Tommy," are the first words that leave her lips. No shit!

Muscles mc-handsome simply smirks at that, fully amused at how tongue tied he's left her. And yup, that seems like an accurate nickname, she thinks as her eyes wander south to the six-pack that greets her before a cough brings her mind out of the gutter.

Tommy appears to be as amused as the man before her, and Felicity can see a hint of joy in his clear eyes when they land on their company, particularly when the man's attraction to her becomes obvious.


His voice comes more like a invitation than an introduction, a fact she sets aside for a moment as the name echoes in her mind.

It takes her longer than it should considering how familiar she is with the Merlyn mansion, having spent countless hours between its walls over the five years she and Tommy have been friends, especially after she had begun tutoring him after hours, as was the case today.

This time she can blame muscle… Oliver's piercing eyes for her failing brain.

"You're Oliver Queen," she finally croaks, coughing before going on, "the Oliver Tommy always talks about. Wow, you look nothing like the pictures."

More athletic and with a better haircut; definitely hotter.

A snort by the door makes her suddenly aware that's been said out loud too; her brain apparently still malfunctioning.

Felicity's embarrassment barely falls under panic levels when casting a glance back at Oliver she sees him smiling, eyebrows shot upwards but looking even more intrigued than before.

"Felicity, I take it?"

A shy nod is her only reply, lips pressed shut lest she blurts out something worse.

"Pictures didn't make you justice either."

His suave response is proven to be genuine when thin lips curl up in a boyish smirk, excitement shining in his deep blue gaze as it bores into hers.

Something spreads within her, an unfamiliar warmth that feels as right as his musky smell had when being in her arms. Her skin pales back to normal, a smile of her own finding place in nude lips as comfort replaces anxiety.

"Of course," Tommy mutters by the door, though neither friend pays him much attention.

Of course they would hit it off. Of course Oliver would fall for her. He'd seen it coming miles away, from stray comments when stories about the other had been heard, and curious questions once their names had been overheard while he was on the phone.

His childhood buddy, a brother in all the ways it counted, and the girl best friend from another town.

"Come find me once you two are done with the whole eye gazing," Tommy shouts smugly as he walks out the room and down the hall, dialling Laurel as he goes.


Her voice is laced with excitement as she picks up after the first tone.

"You owe me fifty bucks."

Thanks for reading!
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