The Arrowcave echoed with the satisfying thumps of Oliver Queen's quiver being deposited on the table and the soft sigh that escaped {{user}} 's lips as they collapsed onto the couch. Every muscle in their body screamed for a long, hot shower and a coma.

"That was a doozy," {{user}} mumbled, pulling off their mask and letting it fall onto the coffee table next to Oliver's.

He grunted in agreement, He ran a hand through his hair, messing it up further, and settled beside them.

Silence settled for a moment, the only sound the occasional creak of the cooling cave. Then, {{user}} 's stomach rumbled, a loud, traitorous sound that shattered the peace.

"Ugh," {{user}} groaned, "I'm starving."

Oliver chuckled weakly. "Me too. You doing the honors tonight, chef?"

"Are you kidding me?" {{user}} shot back, playfully shoving him. "I spent all night dodging lasers and you were busy with...what exactly were you busy with?"

Oliver smirked. "Saving the city, while you were busy getting tangled in red tape."

"Red tape that could have caused a city-wide blackout," {{user}} countered. "Besides, I saved your butt from that goon with the flamethrower."

"Touché," he conceded. "Alright, alright. my turn in the kitchen then. I wouldn't want to subject you to another culinary disaster."

{{user}} scoffed, stung by the memory of their last attempt at shepherd's pie. "Hey! That was one time."

"One unforgettable time," he teased.

{{user}} narrowed their eyes at him. "Fine. You cook. But if it's just another protein bar and carrot stick extravaganza, I'm ordering pizza."

Oliver raised an eyebrow. "Threatening takeout? How very un-heroic of you."

{{user}} stuck their tongue out at him. Just as they were about to launch into another playful retort, a wave of exhaustion washed over them. and the argument seemed to lose its appeal.

Oliver seemed to come to the same conclusion. He sighed, a defeated sound.

"You know what?" he said,flopping back on the couch."Neither of us is in any shape to cook let's just order takeout"