Model Behavior

Synopsis: Olicity College AU. This sculpting class is the bane of my existence and for the final project (where i'm supposed to use a non-clay medium) i'm going to troll my teacher and make a bunch of silicone dildos. will you donate your dick to my cause?

Rating: E

Pairing: Oliver & Felicity

Characters: Oliver & Felicity

Category: Smut/Humor

Disclaimer: (the usual, don't own, idea was mine though)

A profuse red blush colored Felicity's cheeks as she continued to stare at the model she was supposed to be sculpting, but her eyes kept drifting downward, unable to stop glancing at his… package. She had never been a prude, which was probably the reason why she took this sculpting class in the first place, aside from it being an art requirement in order to complete her degree. But dear lord, the man sitting before her was well endowed and she couldn't stop staring at him!

He cheeks reddened even more when he caught her staring and she instantly looked away, her eyes diverting to the lump of clay on her table. She hadn't done jack shit with it yet, having been too preoccupied with staring at the model's body to even remember she actually needed to do something with it by the end of class or her professor would have a hissy fit. (Professor Rochev was known for being a bitch and chewing out her students, and Felicity regretted not looking her up on before taking the class, otherwise she would have chosen the other one with Professor Wells, since Iris kept raving about how awesome he was with his students.)

"Time!" came her professor's shrill voice, proclaiming that the end of class was nearing and that they had to clean up before being allowed to leave the room. (That was another thing about Professor Rochev, she was a neat freak. Even one little speck of clay left on her tables resulted in a stern yelling. Just watching one of her fellow students getting chewed out made Felicity uber careful of cleaning up after herself before she left the room.)

Rolling her eyes, Felicity stood up, unable to believe she'd spent so much time staring at the model instead of doing her work. It was uncharacteristic of her. All the other class periods had been a breeze, and she'd made due with her lack of skill by creating unique pieces that were more abstract than anything. But real life was turning into the bane of her existence because the models kept getting more and more beautiful. This male specimen in particular had caught her overactive imagination and set it on fire, rendering her useless in class that morning.

Felicity regretted it even more when Professor Rochev said, "Don't forget, your final project is due in two weeks. You must use a non-clay medium in order to complete it. The final piece must be at least three inches by three inches and as detailed as possible. Anyone who fails to complete it or ignores the requirements will fail the class. You are dismissed."

"God, that woman is evil," Felicity grumbled as she started picking up her things, making sure to clear off her table of the unused clay.

"You can say that again," she heard a strong, masculine voice reply from beside her. Looking up, her eyes met the clear blue of the model she'd been ogling for the past hour and a half. Her mouth dropped as she felt her face begin to turn a deep shade of red. God, he was even more gorgeous close up, and she couldn't tear her eyes away from his body as he slipped on the black robe he walked into class wearing. He was all tanned flesh and bulging muscles, tall, with dark scruff peppering his chin and cheeks, and short cropped dusty blonde hair atop his head, the perfect length for running her fingers through.

Felicity chided herself for thinking those thoughts, but then his piercing blue eyes stared back at her and she suddenly realized he was smiling, his pearly white teeth and dimples on full display. She swallowed hard, trying to remember what she was doing before he turned his gaze on her, but even her name seemed like a distant memory at this moment. Completely awestruck that the man was even talking to her after all the time she'd spent practically leering at him, she found herself at a loss for words. It didn't happen often, but when it did, it ended up being a sight to behold, as her friends told her. And she was doing it right now, in front of this handsome stranger who continued to stare back at her like she was the sun.

What the hell was going on? Didn't he say something earlier? What was it? Again, she couldn't remember because his smiled had turned into a frown, and, oh god, no, that did not look right! Not on that beautiful face! She had to say something.

"Wha… I… Um… Uh…" Felicity sputtered out, and he was smiling again. Damn that man and his dimples. They really worked for him. "Sorry, too much going on in…" She waved her hand around her head. "Here." He chuckled, and, dear god, even his laugh was amazing, like soulful music to her ears.

"Thank you," he replied, and Felicity realized she said that out loud,. "Yeah, you did."

Slapping her hand over her forehead, it hit with a wet plop and she remembered her palm was still sticky with clay. "Can this day get any worse?" Felicity muttered to herself, pulling her hand away from her face and knowing she had a big gray stain on her skin from it. Shit! How could she have been that stupid? And in front of Hot Model Stranger to boot?

"Hot Model Stranger? Really?" he asked, sounding immensely amused by her lack of brain-to-mouth filter today.

"Oh, my god!" Felicity groaned. "I need to stop talking, like, now. Right now would be great, but apparently my brain wants nothing more than for me to embarrass myself in front of you so I'm just gonna try the trick my mom taught me where I could backwards from three. Here goes… Three… Two… One."

"You know, Isabel said my name at the beginning of class," he replied, still smiling as he took her hand and led her towards the row of sinks at the back of the studio classroom. The calloused pads of his fingers on her skin was warm and sent jolts of electricity running through her. Felicity had never felt like that before, never felt her blood begin to simmer in her veins from just a simple touch. Her heart began racing as he turned on the faucet and pulled her hand beneath it.

"Sorry, I wasn't exactly paying attention. A little to focused on not grabbing Professor Rochev's attention for being ten seconds late," Felicity says as she washes the clay off her fingers beneath the spray of warm water.

"Oliver," he answered the unspoken question that lingered in the air as he leaned against the tiled wall and continued to watch her. Those azure eyes were warm and inviting, and she thought she could easily get lost in their depths if she wasn't careful.

"Felicity," she finally responded, her brain clicking into action in order to remind her that this conversation wasn't one-sided. "And I'm really sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable today. I swear, I was just trying to figure out how to sculpt your thing… Sculpt you! And dear god, please let the earth open up beneath my feet and swallow me whole because this is just turning into one of the most awkward conversations I've ever had in my life."

Felicity closed her eyes, trying to get her thoughts under control, but then felt a hand beneath her chin, tilting it up before a warm, wet cloth brushed over her forehead. Opening her eyes just a crack, she found Oliver wiping away the remnants of clay on her skin with a paper towel, and her heart leapt into her chest. This was not what she expected, at all. Felicity tried not to read into it, but holy shit, this was getting out of hand way too fast. Never in her life had she felt this attached to someone she'd just met, let alone someone she'd already seen naked. As awkward as her mouth had been for the past few minutes, she was dumbfounded by his response. He seemed to be ignoring her word vomit and unintentional innuendos, and it made her feel incredibly relieved. No one had ever done that before.

"Thank you," Felicity whispered when he finished cleaning her face.

"You're welcome," Oliver replied with a smile. The paper towel fell into the wastebasket at their feet and silence enveloped them.

It wasn't as uncomfortable as Felicity expected it to be, especially since he couldn't seem to stop smiling at her. God, what was with this guy? It should have made her feel weird, but instead, it made her feel happy. She felt giddy that Oliver seemed to want to remain in her orbit long after required.

"So, um, you and Professor Rochev…" Felicity started to ask before pressing her lips together. "Shit, sorry, that's way too personal."

"Not exactly. I mean, I was pretty much on full display for everyone today, so I guess you can say personal was checked at the door as soon as I walked in," Oliver answered. "And Isabel and I… biggest mistake of my life. Never again."

"Then why did you model for her today?" Felicity's curiosity was piqued.

"I'm everyone's go-to model for this part of the class," he said as they began walking back to her desk so she could gather her things. "Besides, it's really good money."

"Ah, okay, then, that answers my next question." She picked up her backpack and slung it over her shoulder. "Well, Oliver, it was nice to meet you," Felicity replied, making her way to the door. He followed a step behind her, and as she pushed it open, he held it for her.

"It was nice meeting you too, Felicity," he said with that dimpled smile that made the butterflies in her stomach instantly wake up and start to flutter about. She responded with a smile of her own before leaving the room.

The following class period, Oliver was perched in front of her class again, bare for all to see, and his eyes lingered on her as she tried to work on the sculpture she was supposed to finish that morning. Unfortunately, she was failing miserably, and this time, Professor Rochev called her out for it.

"Miss Smoak," her voice cut through the room, making all heads look up at her as she sauntered over to Felicity's table, her nearly black eyes narrowing at her progress. "This is pathetic," Rochev simply said. "Have you not learned a single thing this semester about proper technique and form? Or are you just terrible at grasping these simple concepts?"

Felicity's face flushed for a completely different reason this afternoon: mortified embarrassment. Her mouth hung open as Professor Rochev continued, "I feel like I should just fail you now and spare myself the indignity of having to deal with your final project, which from the looks of what I'm seeing right now, is probably going to be just as terrible as this… thing… you're currently trying to make."

Tears pricked the corners of Felicity's eyes as she mumbled, "I'm sorry, Professor. I'll do better on my final project, I promise." Rochev sauntered off, rolling her eyes.

Everyone continued to stare at her, but she kept her head down, unable to deal with the judgement she would most likely see from her fellow students. She so desperately wanted to make a run for it, drop this class and take something else, but the drop date had already come and gone, meaning she needed to stick it out for a little while longer and pray to god she could pay Iris to make her a sculpture in order to pass this damn class. She didn't care if she received lower than an A for it, just as long as she never had to deal with Professor Rochev ever again.

By the end of class, Felicity's sculpture remained unfinished, and she simply gave up, throwing the sticky lump of clay into the trash before she walked over to the sink to wash her hands. She hadn't looked up at Oliver ever since Professor Rochev called her out, fearing she'd get the same judgement from him, but then she felt a hand on her arm, warm, calloused fingers inching their way up her skin, and she knew it was him.

"Hey," he softly whispered. "Are you okay?"

Felicity merely shook her head. She was afraid the tears she had managed to keep at bay would being to fall the minute she opened her mouth, so she remained silent. Averting her eyes from his scrutinizing gaze, she turned on the faucet and began washing her hands. Gray swirls ran down the drain until her fingers were clean, but she still couldn't pull away from the warm water. It felt comforting, just like the hand now rubbing up and down her back.

Years had passed since anyone showed this much concern towards her. Yeah, Iris was her friend and had always been there for her, but they had never had to deal with this kind of fallout. It shocked and surprised Felicity when she looked up and saw the concerned expression on Oliver's face. Before she knew it, tears began streaming down her cheeks, making the world go blurry even with the glasses perched on her nose.

Suddenly, she was surrounded by warmth as two strong arms wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her into a well muscled chest, and Felicity realized that Oliver was hugging her as she cried. It felt strange, having a man she barely knew a couple of days ago comforting her as she broke down in front of him. Truthfully, it should have been mortifying, but, wow, it felt really nice. He was just so warm and inviting and solid that she clung to him, burying her face in the soft terrycloth of his robe.

Felicity pulled away a few minutes later knowing almost instantly that her makeup had smudged and she probably looked like a racoon. But Oliver didn't seem fazed. He continued to smile down at her, the warmth in his eyes enveloping her as he reached out to wipe the tears away from her cheeks. "Feel better?" he quietly asked, his hands cupping her chin.

A sigh escaped Felicity's lips as she leaned into his touch. God, how had she gotten so addicted to it so quickly? Her life wasn't some kind of fairy tale. It was far from it, actually. But suddenly, she felt like Cinderella at the ball with a real life Prince Charming staring down at her. Maybe, just this one time, fairy tales did come true, but then she made the mistake of playing back Professor Rochev's cruel words, and the magic of the moment faded.

"A little," Felicity meekly admitted, but in reality she still felt terrible. Professor Rochev always been this terrible of a person?

"Yes," Oliver answered, and she realized she'd spoken her thoughts out loud again. Thankfully, the room was empty aside from the two of them.

"Then why did you…?" Felicity suddenly found herself asking, but quickly snapped her mouth shut knowing just how terribly intrusive the question was.

"I was drunk," he flatly replied. "Like I said, big mistake I never want to make again."

Felicity nodded. "What she really needs is a taste of her own medicine," she grumbled. "I'd like nothing more than for my final project in this class to be a big 'Fuck You' to Professor Rochev, but I'm better with computers and code than I am with non-clay mediums."

For a moment, Oliver remained silent at her side as they walked back to her table so she could gather her things for her next class. Then, he said, "What about those fancy new 3D printers they've been talking about on the news? I'm pretty sure at least one department on campus has one. Maybe you could create something using that?"

He was being terribly sweet, suggesting something that she could actually understand in order to create her final project. "But the subject matter is still my problem. What could I even create that would just slap her in the face? Well, not literally, but, you know what I mean?" Felicity replied.

"How about you think it over these next couple of days and when the idea comes to you, give me a call, and I'll let you know if it's feasible?" Oliver suggested. He grabbed the notebook she carried in her arms and the pencil that had always remained tucked behind her ear, and scribbled something down on the inside of the cover. He handed them back to her and she found his neatly scrawled name and phone number. A smile lit up her face as she gazed up at him, completely awestruck.

"You… You'd actually help me with this?" Felicity asked, feeling rather unsure of herself for the first time in a really long time.

"Yeah," he answered, almost a little too quickly, but countered it with, "I mean, you sound pretty smart if you're working with computers and code, and I really don't want you failing this class because Isabel is being a bitch."

"Um… Okay," Felicity agreed, feeling something intense spark inside her. If Oliver was willing to help her on her final sculpture, then she was sure as hell going to let him. After all, it wasn't everyday that something this handsome and this sweet offered his services for nothing in return. She wasn't going to turn him down, that was for sure. "I'll do some thinking tonight and tomorrow, and if I'm still having trouble, I'll give you a call."

"Sounds good," Oliver said, his smile beaming as he skimmed his fingers down her arm before giving her hand a little squeeze.

The butterflies fluttered to life again, and Felicity felt like she was on cloud nine. She nodded before practically skipping out of the room towards her next class of the day.

End Part 1

AN: I had to split this up into 2 parts because it was getting really long.