"That's right. You're the princess in our relationship." Oliver shot him a grin. "Though, you're starting to get some machismo with all that we're doing. It's a good look on you."
Oliver chuckled. "I tried hitting on Margaret and bombed spectacularly. So, yes, I shouldn't be complaining there."
He glanced down where Tommy was touching him. "I can't feel it. It's all dead scar tissue now. Hurt when it happened. Arrow shot through the back. Punctured my lung, I think. Not sure how Yao patched it up, but he must've done it right since I'm still alive. Of course, he was the one who shot me to begin with, thus beginning the long adventure of marring my beautiful skin."
Oliver ran his finger down the tracked, slanted line bisecting his abdomen above the old puncture wounds. "This one was a bad knife wound. Yao sewed me up with real catgut, or I guess hog-gut. Let me tell you, that stuff stinks when you're making it."