williams fork

anonymous asked:

William totally shipping his daddy and Barry tho

I drabbled again. I’m not even sorry.

An Outsider’s Perspective

Oliver hadn’t planned on running into Barry during his time with William, but William seemed all too happy to have Oliver’s friend join them, and both Barry and William had looked so hopeful, and, well, who was he to refuse them?

He’s starting to regret it, though. Every warm feeling towards Barry that he’d repressed – every ounce of love and devotion that he’s felt towards the younger man seems to flurry through him as Barry sits next to him in the diner booth, and William stabs at his chicken nuggets with his fork across from them, eyes fixed on his plate.

“You look tired,” is one of the first things that Barry tells him in a concerned voice.

Oliver peers at his friend, narrowing his gaze. “Well, work has been sort of… tiring, lately,” he offers weakly, eyes darting towards his son, and Barry nods in understanding, ducking his head with his lips dipped into a frown.

“You know, if you ever need any help for, uh, work-” Barry tells him, and it’s with a meaningful look that pierces right through him, “You can always ask for help. I’d race over in a heartbeat.”

It’s a simple statement – something that Oliver’s always known, but the tone, the look in his eyes, the way that Barry nibbles on his bottom lip… it’s laced with a meaning that he can’t quite decipher.

His son, though, having been distracted from playing with his food, is now staring between the two men with a smirk on his face, and Oliver sends him a questioning look. “What’s that look for?”

“Nothing,” William shrugs, abandoning his fork and dipping one nugget into his ketchup. “Mom didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend.”

“That’s not-” Oliver starts in an attempt to correct his son.

“We- we’re not-” Barry splutters, a panicked look sent in Oliver’s direction, all wide-eyed and adorable and fuck, Oliver just wants to reach over and kiss him right then and there.

William just raises his eyebrows, though, sending them a skeptical look, and damn, the kid is way more perceptive than Oliver would have expected from someone his age.

“I should, um… I should go,” Barry practically squeaks, face flushed and eyes adamantly avoiding Oliver’s gaze.

It doesn’t take a lot of thinking. He reaches over and clasps his hand over Barry’s, before turning his palm to lace their fingers together, and Barry’s expression goes from panicked to confused in a matter of seconds, soft eyes once more landing his own, questioning.

“We’ll talk about it later,” Oliver tells him gently, giving his hand a gentle squeeze and sending the younger man a soft smile.

“Y-yeah.” Barry replies, his own lips spreading into a hopeful smile. “Later.”

They’re so lost in staring into one another’s eyes, that Oliver barely registers the grin lighting up his son’s face as his eyes dart between the two men, proud of himself for being right about the obvious nature of their relationship.