Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Looks like Barry is the lucky winner.” 

Barry eyed Bruce, his lips pulled into a thin line, the scowl he was holding back just barely forming on his face. Hal knew that expression all too well: the mixture between being genuinely displeased at the outcome and Barry’s inability to be anything other than nice and a good sport about his situation.   

But at the first sign of his faltering smile, Hal knew Barry had cracked; the reality of what just happened finally settling into that big brain of his. 

Took him long enough. 

Hal snickered into his fist, narrowly avoiding the playful hand aimed at his shoulder as Barry sighed, resigning to his fate. “Shut up,” Barry grumbled under his breath, glaring at the shortest stick curled in his fist, as if picking it just unleashed a thousand curses—his own personal Pandora’s Box.  

“Aw, don’t be like that, Bar,” Hal admonished, internally wondering why Barry had gotten all wound up getting the short end of the deal this time. Normally, the speedster was game for any mission he’d lost to the popsicle sticks, embracing his bad luck with optimism, but something about this one….  

“Oh, fuck.” 

That was probably why. 

The color drained from Barry’s face, the speedster’s already pale features whiter than snow. Hal’s eyes drifted to the other unlucky Leaguer, the matching short popsicle stick breaking under their grasp. 

“Absolutely not.” 

“Hell no—” Barry and Ollie shouted at the same time, the two blondes both assuming fighting stances, their fists raised at each other. “Never in a million years,” the archer growled,  his eyebrows narrowing in disgust. 

“Like I’d ever consider you an option,” Barry bit back, his voice dripping with repulsion, his face as equally as scrunched. 

Hal had to admit, he was a little turned on by how hot Barry looked—the way his upper lip curled in a snarl, how the red dusted across his cheeks as he got heated, how—

Hal snapped himself back to reality as Ollie lunged forward, his arms outstretched. The Lantern’s two best friends were about to go at it and no one else in the League was intervening, not even Dinah. 

Hal hated how much his friends disliked each other. They always fought over everything; the only time they were ever relatively calm was when they were with him. And even then, Barry and Ollie still fought, Hal getting trapped in the middle of every little petty spat. 

Safe to say if Barry and Ollie went on the mission together, things would not work out in the League’s favor. Sure, they could set aside their differences if it was absolutely necessary, but this mission in particular…. 

“I’d never fake-date Barry Allen even if my life depended on it.” 

“And I’d sooner be dead than be seen with Oliver Queen like that.”  

Yeah. 

The mission would blow up in their faces if those two had to go undercover as a couple. So Hal did the only thing he could think of before Barry and Ollie destroyed each other. 

He opened his big mouth. 

“I’ll date Barry.” 

“W-what?” Barry whipped his head around, his blue eyes wide. His anger was long gone, his expression a mixture of shock and something more, something like…fear. 

Shit. 

Hal shouldn’t have said that. He shouldn’t have let his stupid heart take over, his innermost desire pushing itself to the forefront. He shouldn’t have been so emotional. 

But the way Barry also looked at him with a spark of hope in those gorgeous blue eyes, his gaze unwavering as they met Hal’s own…it made the Lantern hold on to whatever willpower remained and face the situation he’d volunteered himself into before he cowered and ran away.  

“I’ll go with you, Bar. I owe Ollie anyway.”  

This was the last time Hal did something for Ollie out of the goodness of his heart. He was already regretting his decision to pretend to be a fake couple with Barry. But in his defense, it wasn’t a good idea to begin with—Hal was thinking with his dick rather than his head, impulsive as always.

He’d psyched himself up for the mission over the week. 

They were to pose as a couple spending a romantic weekend at a Couples Retreat. Their mission was to snoop around and figure out the plans of a thieving pair staying at the location, their next presumed target in Coast City. Normally, the Justice League didn’t go after thieves, leaving the street crimes to other heroes or the local law enforcement, but this particular couple had been stealing League items. First, it was a Kryptonian crystal on loan to the Metropolis Science Museum, then it was a pair of magical weapons from Themyscira and Atlantis stolen from National City. Some form of item relating to every member of the Justice League had been plucked, including one of Bruce’s Batarangs—the Dark Knight claimed it was pure luck that it’d been stolen, but Hal knew Bruce didn’t want to admit he’d left it embedded in a Gotham building somewhere. 

Barry’s old boots got swiped from Central City’s Flash Museum a few weeks ago, making Hal the last member on the list. Hence Coast City. There weren’t any current Green Lantern exhibitions going on, but a local businessman had invited Bruce and Ollie to a conference of some sorts, with an exclusive auction reserved for the richest of the rich after hours. 

That was happening at the five-star hotel next door. The rest of the League was staying there, living it up—curse Hal for unhinging his jaw and blabbering: that could’ve been him. 

But then, Hal would’ve never gotten the chance to be with Barry like this. Like lovers. 

God, he’d been crushing on Barry for years at this point. 

It was hard to tell when Hal’s feelings shifted into something more romantic after all the time being just friends because he’d always felt…different…around Barry. Not like when he was with Ollie or Dinah or even Carol. Hal just kinda assumed that’s what friendship with Barry was like—and it’s not like he had many experiences of what a healthy friendship should’ve been—his heart always warming when he was around the speedster. 

But then Barry had gotten seriously injured and the first person he smiled at when he finally gained consciousness was Hal. His brilliant blue eyes searched for the Lantern’s until they met, before he shakily reached for Hal’s hand, ignoring the other Leaguer’s concerned questions. 

Hal felt sparks when they touched, their fingers interlacing as Barry held onto him like a lifeline. 

And his heart fluttered.  

That’s when Hal knew he was really screwed. 

He couldn’t—not with his best friend in the whole wide world. 

At first, Hal shoved those stupid emotions away, denying any semblance of it. But ignoring what he’d felt in his chest had eventually become debilitating. The jealousy, the annoyance, the hurt. Hal couldn’t bear to not finally admit that he felt something for Barry. 

When he finally freed himself from the shackles of his repressed emotions, he’d finally felt a sense of relief. But that stupid, gnawing, yet warm feeling that lodged itself in his chest since he first met Barry never went away. 

Maybe Hal had always been in love with Barry Allen. 

Love.

Funny thing about that. 

Hal never thought he was the kind of person who would experience the type of love portrayed in the movies—the epic romance for the ages. He fooled around with whoever was around at the right time, hurt Carol too many times to count, and ran away from anyone who got too close. 

He claimed he was just guarding his heart from the inevitable disappointment. 

But Hal knew the truth—it was something he’d buried long ago. 

He was afraid. Afraid of loving someone like how his parents loved each other just for them to not get their happy ending. Hal saw how everything fell apart after his father died—how his mother struggled without her soulmate, how their family disintegrated beyond repair. 

But with Barry, commitment just felt…natural. Like Hal was meant to love him, like they were meant to love each other. There was no fear—only hope (or so Hal claimed, but deep down, deep down, he was terrified of what this meant for their friendship). 

Yet no matter how much Hal flirted, Barry never seemed to pick up on his signals. The speedster was just that oblivious (or the other, more realistic explanation that Hal didn’t want to face was that Barry totally knew and just didn’t want to play into it because he didn’t feel the same way toward the Lantern). 

Still, that little fire in Hal’s heart burned strong. Sure, the flame may have shrunk over the years (he’d hit a low when someone so much as flirted with a clueless Barry three years ago), but Hal’s feelings for his best friend never entirely dissipated. Even if nothing ever happened between them, Hal was determined to love Barry like he deserved to be loved. 

That didn’t mean Barry’s unintentional rejections didn’t hurt. The way he’d flash a confused look at one of Hal’s blatantly obvious flirtations or when he’d shake his head and smile oddly if Hal got a little too handsy during their hangouts…. 

But then the flicker would suddenly grow stronger when he least expected it—Hal’s heart wanted to burst out of his chest on those particular days when it felt like Barry wanted Hal too. When Barry’s eyes spoke of something more.  

Was it so awful to hope that Hal could finally get the love story he’d always dreamed of? 

Was it so awful to hope that Hal wasn’t delusional and in over his head, driving himself mad with fantasies? 

Was it so awful to hope that Barry also loved him back, that his feelings weren’t so unrequited? 

Yes. It was. 

Because Hal would just break his own heart. 

Barry had looked so uncomfortable when Hal offered to sub in for Ollie as his fake date. The way the speedster’s breath hitched in his throat, how his eyes widened and his shoulders tensed, his hands balled into fists.  

Hal had internally frowned, the initial twinge of jealousy when Ollie was first paired with Barry growing into something more akin to disappointment. Barry would rather act all lovey-dovey with Ollie, a guy he claimed to despise, than play along with Hal. 

It was like Barry hated the idea of them together. Like he was disgusted that Hal would ever think to consider himself relationship material because the speedster would never think of them as anything besides platonic.  

Hal sighed as Barry handed him the spare keycard, the two weaving their way through the crowd of other couples. 

Maybe Hal Jordan and Barry Allen were just meant to be best friends. 

Nothing more, nothing less. 

“This is us, Bar,” Hal smiled as he waved his thoughts away, trying to lighten the mood. Someone had decorated the wooden door to their room with heart cutouts, much like the others in their hallway. In the center, there was a whiteboard with their names scrawled in calligraphy, also matching the rest of the resort. 

“Mr. Allen and Mr. Jordan.” 

Hal sighed again. He should’ve volunteered for Barry instead—it would’ve been less awkward trying to fake it with Ollie. At least with him, Hal wouldn’t have to worry about overstepping boundaries and accidentally acting too real. If Barry even so much as suspected Hal’s feelings for him…. 

He couldn’t risk it.  

But this was Hal’s chance. His chance to show Barry that he was a catch, that he was worthy of his friend’s love, that he wanted to be his. 

Hal sucked in a breath. 

“After you, darling,” the Lantern smiled, holding the door open for the speedster, an inviting hand gesturing to the room.  

Barry rolled his eyes, shaking his head as a softly huffed “Hal,” escaped his lips. 

Hal’s heart dropped as he watched the back of Barry’s head. Okay, maybe that was too forward—it probably made Barry feel uneasy, especially since they were alone. Hal had to pull back and make sure he just tiptoed the delicate line separating their friendship and something more, so as to not make things weird, while also simultaneously trying to send Barry a message about his feelings. 

“Oh.” 

Hal closed the door and glanced around Barry’s shoulder. The speedster had frozen in the middle of the room, his blue eyes trained on the bed. 

Wait. 

There was only one bed.  

Of course, there was only one bed. They were at a couples resort, for crying out loud. 

But that wasn’t what Barry was staring at—no, it was something much worse.  

Someone had decorated the bedspread with a heart made of red rose petals. In the center, there was a pair of beach towel animals cuddled together, completing the surprise.

Hal stared at their inanimate faces, the black paper cutouts for eyes seemingly mocking him. “He doesn’t love you back,” they suggested, their voices infiltrating Hal’s mind to punch him down like the devil on his shoulder. 

Hal felt the sudden urge to unravel the towels. 

But that would make him look like a crazy person. 

Well, crazier.    

“Bar?” Hal placed a curious hand on his best friend’s shoulder, his gaze shifting toward the blonde who still hadn’t moved. “You good?” 

The speedster whipped his head around, his eyes finally focusing, his features softening as they looked at each other. Hal saw Barry’s fist slowly unclench from his periphery, the tension melting from his body as he inhaled, a small smile gracing his lips.   

“Yeah. All good, buddy.” 

Ouch. 

The way Barry’s smile never reached his eyes, the way he could barely hold Hal’s eye contact, the ‘buddy.’ 

Hal knew Barry was lying. 

He was so not good. 

Goddammit. 

This was going to be a long weekend. 

“They have a water slide here, Hal.” 

Hal snorted as Barry held the brochure up for the Lantern to see, the gaudy, exaggerated picture eliciting a laugh from both of them. You’d think a resort charging as exorbitant prices as this one would’ve hired a better marketing team. Then again, all the brochures and flyers Barry had shown him all had the same outdated look—maybe they were a relic from the past. 

Hal crossed his arms and leaned his back against the bulletin board to meet Barry’s eyes. “Why are you looking at the activities, anyway? I thought Bruce already decided on the itinerary.” 

Barry shrugged from his position at the brochure rack. “Unlike some people, Harold,”—Barry unsubtly coughed under his breath—“I’m actually working.” 

Hal playfully scoffed, rolling his eyes at the jab as Barry replaced the informational flyer and grinned at him, his nose crinkling in that cute way. 

Oh god, the way something as small as Barry’s smile made Hal’s heart leap in his chest like a little schoolboy with a crush. 

He was fucked, that’s for sure. 

“I’m scouting our targets,” Hal mumbled under his breath, turning his head away so Barry couldn’t see the rapidly forming blush on his cheeks. “Someone has to actually identify them first.” Contrary to what Barry thought, he wasn’t just trying to flaunt his muscles by posing by the corkboard, thank you very much. People-watching while his ring scanned everyone he saw was contributing more than whatever Barry was doing. 

The speedster must’ve read his mind, Barry playfully bumping their shoulders together before scratching the back of his neck—a little nervous tick that manifested whenever he felt embarrassed. “Well, I’m looking at the activities they offer. We know from Bruce’s profile that the couple who pulled off heists are flexible people. I thought finding a yoga schedule might help,” Barry shrugged, pointing to another eye-sore brochure that looked like someone had vomited neon all over it.  

Hal hummed, considering. That actually made sense—then again, anything Barry did made infinitely more sense. If they could figure out when the couple would be out of their room, they were free to snoop around. “Smart thinking, Bartholomew,” Hal teased, elbowing the speedster’s arm affectionately. “This is why I picked you instead of Ollie.” Well, that and the other reason. 

Barry seemingly brushed Hal’s revelation off, his smile fading ever so slightly before he cleared his throat, eyeing the tan line on Hal’s finger. “So, did you get anything?”  

Hal shook his head, fiddling with the ring hidden in his tropical shirt pocket. No potential matches yet. 

“Hard to scan everyone when you’ve been distracted by that clerk, hm?” 

“Oh?” Hal felt the smirk form on his face as he followed Barry’s eyeline, his gaze landing on the blonde female staffer facilitating the check-in process. Hal’s heart raced with excitement as he bit back the wide smile threatening to spread across his features. Could it be? “Is my Bear jealous?” 

Barry exhaled and shook his head before crossing his arms defensively. “No. Shut up,” he denied, the flush across his cheeks saying otherwise as he resolutely looked away from the Lantern and bit his lip.    

Hal’s heart grew as Barry’s blush deepened, the reaction from the speedster and fluttering in his chest giving him the confidence to be bold. “No need to be insecure, Bar,” he smirked, dialing up that classic Hal Jordan charm up to a hundred. “Besides,” Hal whispered, his lips just barely brushing against Barry’s ear as he poured all his sincerity into the confession. “I’ve only got eyes for you, darling.” 

The dark blush that suddenly formed on Barry’s face was worth all of the gags and groans Hal received from his earpiece, Ollie being the loudest protestor.  

Barry shivered against Hal’s closeness as the voices also filled his radio, the red color of his ears deepening. His golden hairs tickled Hal’s forehead as he turned and arched an unimpressed eyebrow at the Lantern before Barry shyly smiled, his hand flitting to the back of his neck again.    

Holy fuck, their faces were so close. Hal’s gaze fell to the speedster’s mouth as that pink tongue grazed across those plump lips, the moisture glistening from the warm fluorescent lights. 

He heard Barry’s breath hitch as his eyes met Hal’s, those gorgeous blues searching—searching for whatever Hal was looking for as well? For permission? For confirmation?  

Hal unconsciously leaned forward as if being pulled in by Barry’s gravity. God, those lips were so kissable. 

Everything seemed to move in slow motion as Barry’s eyes became half-lidded, almost as if he felt the pull too, the magnetism between them. The corner of Hal’s mouth ticked upward, his heart fluttering in his chest as Barry, too, grinned. 

Was Hal reading this right? What could’ve prompted—?

“Jordan, focus.” 

Hal flinched, snapping out of the daze that had almost made him kiss his best friend. The draw—the want —that had been in Barry’s eyes was all but gone; no trace of what Hal thought he saw remained. 

Fuck. 

“Jordan.” 

Hal clenched his jaw and inhaled, calming his hammering heart. He didn’t know whether to thank Bruce for saving him from making the biggest mistake of his life or to kill him for quashing what little confidence he’d had left about Barry’s feelings. 

Judging by the startled look on Barry’s face, a thanks might be in order. 

Hal internally sighed before he rolled his eyes at Bruce’s gruff voice, nervously running a finger under the collar of his tee shirt. 

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry.” 

So what if Hal had forgotten the rest of the Justice League was listening? They’d all heard worse before. 

But that was a stark reminder that the League would hear any amount of Hal’s emotional vulnerability on the mission. He had to keep his feelings for Barry in check, at least when their comms were active. When they were alone…. 

Hal just had to be strategic about his moves. Push, but not too much pushing. Keep it fun, but make sure his intentions were clear. 

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Perhaps an afternoon focusing on the mission could distract him enough from all these…feelings. Clear his headspace and whatnot. 

“C’mon, Bar,” Hal smiled, offering his hand to the speedster before pulling back, second-guessing himself. They didn’t have to be physical to act like a believable couple. Besides, everyone else was in their own little world—they wouldn’t notice if that one gay couple wasn’t holding hands. It’d probably make Barry more comfortable if they didn’t immerse themselves in too deep, anyway. “We might have more luck at the beach.” 

Barry’s eyebrows furrowed before he nodded, following the Lantern’s lead. The speedster quickly caught up to Hal, a small, lopsided smile plastered on his face as he playfully bumped their shoulders together, the awkwardness from that…moment…replaced with the all too familiar feeling of friendship.

Friendship. 

Hal looked down and internally laughed before he motioned toward the hallway leading outside. He couldn’t believe he was foolish enough to think Barry actually wanted to kiss him.

“After you,” Hal plastered on his trademark megawatt smile, holding the door open for Barry. 

The speedster flashed a grin back, holding the other end of the door for Hal as the Lantern rolled his eyes and humored Barry, taking the lead once again. Barry and his stupid chivalry that made Hal’s heart flutter and cheeks warm like an idiot. 

And his stupid heartbeat only got faster when Barry hesitantly grabbed Hal’s arm, looping his own around the Lantern’s upper bicep. “Hal, I—”

“Hal?!” 

The Lantern’s stomach dropped to the base of his abdomen when the two people calling his name collided, the dread filling his body. It couldn’t—that voice. 

Hal and Barry turned toward the owner of the shocked exclamation, their expression just as horrified as the two heroes.  

“Jack? And Jim,” the grip on Hal’s arm tightened. “What a surprise,” Barry acknowledged, turning to the former, his eyebrow raised in a silent inquiry. Did you know about this?  

No, Hal signaled back, equally lost and desperate for answers. What the hell were they doing here? 

Barry cleared his throat from beside him, the speedster subtly motioning to the brothers and wives before him. “What a surprise, right Hal?” Barry prompted again, pushing for the Lantern to initiate a question-and-answer. If the Jordan brothers were here…how would that affect the mission…? 

“Yes, what a surprise,” Hal managed through gritted teeth, his anger aimed more at the people on the other side of the oddly quiet JL comm than his brother Jack. Didn’t Bruce do a full profile of everyone staying at the resort? How did something as big as this slip under their radar?  

Barry placed a calming hand on Hal’s chest with his free hand, as if reading the Lantern’s mind. It wasn’t Bruce’s fault for not catching this—Hal should’ve been more thorough in his pre-mission research and asked his ring to identify any persons of interest ahead of time. They’d all had a busy week, anyway. 

Hal smiled, gently nudging the arm that still held onto his bicep until Barry let go, before slyly slipping his hand into his best friend’s instead. Hal squeezed Barry’s palm, eternally grateful for his presence—a much-needed comfort amidst all the chaos.  

Barry beamed back as their fingers slowly intertwined, his cheeks flushing as he looked away before their eyes met again, blue on brown. Hal’s heart soared in his chest as Barry ran a delicate thumb over the back of his hand; the speedster’s smile widening as they continued to stare at each other. 

Hal wished they could stay like this forever. Just him and Barry, and no one else. 

Alas, his big brother had to go ruin Hal’s peace like he always did. 

“You’re one to talk, Hal,” Jack scoffed, his arms crossed disapprovingly. “You disappear for months on end and act like we owe you an explanation for why we’re here,” Jack gestured to himself and Janice, and Jim and Susan. “If you bothered to show up to any family gatherings, you’d know Mom got us this resort package.”  

Hal clenched his jaw, biting back the urge to get up in his older brother’s face and cause a scene. “I was busy,” he spat, his grip on Barry’s hand tightening as he unconsciously pulled the latter closer. 

Jack’s brow furrowed at the movement before he snorted; the older brother was clearly unsatisfied with Hal’s blunt answer. “There you go, making excuses again. You missed Jim’s birthday last month, yet you somehow found time to come here with him?” Jack’s voice was seething as he eyed Barry, as if the speedster caused all of Hal’s absences, as if he couldn’t believe Hal would consider Barry to be more important than his own family.  

Well, believe it. The Justice League was more of a family to Hal in the past decade than his blood relatives ever were. Exhibit A: even if Hal and Bruce had their differences, Spooky at least cared about Hal’s well-being and bothered to check in on him when he returned, unlike Jack. To be honest, if it hadn’t been for his niece Helen and Jim’s wish that the brothers stick together, Hal would’ve broken off contact long ago. 

Barry shifted uncomfortably beside Hal, the speedster bouncing on his heels as his eyes flitted between the brothers. Sure, Barry knew about the Lantern’s familial issues, but Hal had always tried his best to never directly involve his friends in any of his drama, always finding an excuse to whisk them away if things got too hairy. 

Hal hated how he made Barry feel so uncomfortable, how he’d gotten caught in the crossfire. But Hal also appreciated that Barry let him do that talking, that he recognized this was the Lantern’s battle to fight. 

“Don’t talk to Barry like that,” Hal clenched his free fist, the anger welling up in his stomach and threatening to bubble over as he replayed Jack’s words in his mind. He had no right to say that, especially since Barry had been nothing but just shy of the sweetest whenever he happened across the Jordan clan.   

Jack held Hal’s gaze, the politician in him coming front and center as he crossed his arms. “I didn’t say anything,” he feigned ignorance.  

“You implied it,” Hal growled, the annoyance forming in his chest just quelling with another comforting squeeze from Barry. The speedster’s silent communication was right; he should just take the high road and walk away before the inevitable shouting match.  

“Excuse us,” Barry caught Hal’s signal, managing a smile for the both of them, tugging the Lantern away from the other four. “We really should get going. It was nice seeing you,” the speedster hummed out of obligation before pointedly waving to only Sue, Jim, and Jan. 

Jack was going to develop lines if he kept scrunching his face in anger like that.  

Hal exchanged a snicker with Barry at the mutual thought before he nodded, allowing himself to get led away. 

Too bad Hal didn’t even take a step in the opposite direction before Jack piped up again. “I’m surprised he’s still with you. We all thought you’d end up with Carol, but look at how that worked out. You never call, you never write; you’re unreliable. Carol was smart to get out when she did and he should, too.” 

Hal whipped around and shoved himself in Jack’s face, Barry’s grasp on him long abandoned. His brother knew just the right buttons to push, knew all about his relationship insecurities. Hal snarled, the disrespect to both Carol and Barry pushing him further into “let’s get physical territory,” his immense willpower the only thing holding him back from socking his brother square in his jaw. “You can go fuck yourself—”

“Why don’t—” Jim finally interjected, inserting himself between his older brothers as he pushed his glasses up his nose. “Why don’t we all meet for dinner? Tomorrow night?” He suggested nervously, his eyes flickering between his siblings. “Make up for lost time?” 

Barry’s hand curled around Hal’s forearm, the speedster gently breaking the Lantern from his tunnel vision. We don’t have to if you don’t want to. He shook his head subtly, his blue eyes waiting for Hal’s decision. 

Hal smiled softly, the corner of his lip rising as he felt the warmth of Barry’s supportive gaze spread through his body. We don’t have to if you don’t want to. 

Barry grinned back, his fingers tracing the veins down Hal’s wrist before it rested comfortably in his hand, the residual sparks of lightning from the touch sending pulses throughout his arm. Your call. 

“Please, Hal?” 

Ugh, the things he did for his baby brother. Besides, maybe doing this family dinner would get Jack off his back for the rest of the weekend—less interference on the mission and his alone time with Barry. 

“Fine.” 

“Jack?” 

“Sure. Anything for you, Jim.” 

Hal fought the urge to roll his eyes as Jack played up his cooperation for Jim. Just because they both agreed to a group dinner didn’t mean all their family problems would miraculously fix themselves in the end. Although, Hal suspected Jim already knew that and just wanted to at least have one family gathering without things turning into an embarrassing shitshow in front of the children, unlike previously. 

The power of being the youngest of the bunch. 

Hal internally laughed, giving Jim one last glance before he left with Barry, already dreading the hours before tomorrow. Hopefully, the Justice League work would be enough to distract from all the drama. 

Besides, as long as Barry was there, it couldn’t be that bad, right? 

Right? 

Another hour, another regret. 

Hal was gonna kill Ollie after this. Or should it be Bruce? 

Why not both? Seemed they were both not forthcoming to the fact that they wouldn’t have been able to go on the mission, anyway (secret rich brat club or whatever). Sure, Ollie and Bruce could’ve pulled double duty, but Hal knew they would’ve made a very convincing argument to Clark to find a substitute, and once you got the Boy Scout on board…. 

At least Ollie didn’t deny that he picked the shortest stick—just that it was with Barry. Hal knew that, at the end of the day, Ollie and Barry would’ve set aside their differences for the good of the League. But the Lantern also knew that it would save a lot of headaches if someone else swapped. 

Why Hal had to be that guy, he had no idea. 

Hal wished he could go back in time and stop himself from opening his big, dumb mouth. Or maybe, the Lantern smirked as he glanced at Barry sitting at the desk—the speedster’s face was currently buried in his laptop—he could convince Barry to do the time traveling for him. Guardians know the former had more experience than Hal; plus, Barry could deal with the time stream repercussions better. 

Perhaps he shouldn’t throw Barry under the bus like that, Hal thought jokingly. Besides, he should face the consequences of his own actions like the Green Lantern he was. Hal still had time to turn things around. 

And how was that going? 

Hal sighed, removing the laptop from its place on his legs before leaning his weight against the headboard of the bed. The worst thing that could’ve happened, happened—someone from their civilian lives appearing—Jim, and more specifically, Jack. And they’d invited him to dinner, too. Now Hal had to actually play into this couple’s act with Barry—make it all believable. 

That was the easiest part. Hal didn’t even have to think about it—loving Barry was like breathing; he just did it unconsciously, so naturally. No, it’d be much harder to find that balance, to make sure the others bought their act while simultaneously holding back just enough so Barry didn’t realize Hal’s feelings were actually real. 

But would it be so bad if Barry figured it out? Maybe then Hal could skip all the scary, mushy confession stuff in between and just jump to the part where they were together.

That is, assuming Barry reciprocated Hal’s feelings. 

Argh. Why did love have to be so complicated? 

Hal glanced at the back of Barry’s head again, the speedster’s fingers flying across the keyboard, the clack-clack-clack sound filling their room. Barry must’ve felt the stare because he briefly paused, raising his arms to stretch his back and crack his knuckles before he looked forward, his eyes meeting Hal’s in the mirror mounted on the wall at the desk.  

Fuck. 

Hal quickly glanced away when he saw Barry’s soft grin, his blue eyes glimmering in the light of the fluorescent yellow lamp. If Barry asked, Hal could just attribute his blush to the bad lighting in the rest of the room—it totally wasn’t because of that smile that made his heart flutter. 

No comment. 

Whew. Thank goodness. 

Hal let out a slow sigh, returning his laptop to its original spot on his lap. Despite the regrets and curveballs from earlier, the rest of the afternoon hadn’t been all that bad. After scanning the rest of the couples at the resort with his ring, Bruce and the others next door were able to identify their thieves from the data—a one Mr. John Smith and Ms. Jane Smith—their birth names unknown, no trace of their past—like ghosts. 

Who apparently also had powers. From what Bruce could gather, the couple was involved in a freak accident from their time as LexCorps employees. The chemicals from their failed experiment rewired their bodies, allowing them to not produce any DNA markers. That’s why it had taken so long for the League to confirm anything—the strand of hair Clark found in Metropolis and the fingerprint Barry lifted in Central City had all been dead ends. The only reason they ever got anywhere was because Diana had coincidentally worked at the Atlantis exhibition the day of their Aquaman robbery and overheard something about a heist.  

The man—John Smith—went by The Safecracker (he’d arrogantly left a business card at the Flash Museum; it was like they wanted the Justice League to chase them). Besides the fact that their villain names were getting more outlandish, the only reason Hal had remembered the name was because, during last week’s Justice League brief when Bruce pulled up the presentation slides, he’d made some dumb throwaway joke which had earned a small chuckle from Barry. 

The woman—Jane Smith—didn’t have an alter ego like her husband. And also unlike her husband (who could crack any safe and bypass any security systems with the flick of his hand), she had no physical powers. From what the League could hypothesize, Ms. Smith always carried a purse with her that acted as the doorway to a pocket dimension, sort of like Hal’s Lantern ring. 

Bruce had the foresight to install a new set of hidden cameras a few days before the Flash heist after a Martian rock sample on loan to Star Labs from J’onn vanished. The League’s Flash Museum cameras captured the thievery, and Hal had to admit, he was impressed after watching the video feed. The couple had the entire heist choreographed to the tee, their movements so graceful and fluid, like a dance they’d rehearsed a million times. 

At least, that’s what Barry had said when Bruce asked for a group analysis on their video call a few hours before. Hal had been a little distracted, his mind elsewhere when Barry gave the debrief for the both of them. He’d only regained his focus when Clark inquired about the ring and Barry subtly elbowed him to attention, listening to the conversation for a meager five minutes before he drifted again, obsessively replaying all of his interactions with his best friend.  

Barry’s hand had been warm and so, so soft, unlike Hal’s, which were blistered and calloused from flying jets and Lantern missions. They were rough and scared, which Barry didn’t seem to care about, the speedster ever so gently running a slender finger over the jagged skin of his knuckle.  

Hal’s heart had gone into overdrive when Barry did that, his ears red from embarrassment. Thank the Guardians they’d left Jack and Jim by then—if his brothers saw how flushed Hal’s face was…. 

But that little gesture wasn’t even the best part. 

Barry never let go of his hand. Not until they returned to their room hours later to get ready for dinner. 

Hal’s heart had dropped a little when Barry let go; he missed the warmth of the speedster’s touch, how their hands just seemed to melt into each other, fitting like they were always meant to be in that position. 

But then Barry had smiled that smile reserved just for Hal and he couldn’t complain. The one where the corners of his eyes crinkled and one side of his mouth curled upward more than the other, the one where the reflection in his eyes seemed to form little heart shapes (okay, maybe that last one was Hal projecting). 

Dinner at the resort was mediocre; Hal had eaten better and cheaper. But again, he couldn’t complain because Barry had hooked his ankles around Hal’s underneath the table, the Lantern’s pulse skyrocketing when he realized. 

The night had made Hal think that maybe…. Maybe Barry wanted more than just best friends. Maybe Barry wanted to come home to Hal every night after his shift and hug him and kiss him and just… exist with him.   

And then all the momentum just disappeared after the League call, Barry burying himself in the laptop to work on their assigned tasks. 

That’s when it hit Hal. All the affection, all the smiling, the looks; it was just for the sake of the mission. Like it was intended to be—just romantic enough for it to be believable to others, but not to them. 

Because Barry could never like Hal like that. Not in the way Hal loved Barry. 

The flame burning in his chest faltered. 

Maybe Hal was in over his head, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that Barry felt something as well. Yes, he’d denied his feelings being requited, but that stupid hope in his heart remained unwavering, punching its way into Hal’s mind. 

What if? 

What if Barry felt the same? 

Hal bit his lip, sneaking another glance at Barry. The speedster was still working on his laptop, one half of the screen analyzing the video feed from the Flash Museum, the other half open to a shared document with Bruce.  

Hal felt awful for taking advantage of this opportunity with Barry, the guilt gnawing at his heart, but he had to test out the waters, see where they stood. Show him he was worth it to love, to take a chance on for once. 

A job for tomorrow’s Hal, the Lantern thought, stifling a yawn. He hadn’t realized how exhausted he was—test piloting a jet for Carol at the asscrack of dawn, flying over to Gotham for a preliminary League meeting, then back to Coast City to make the resort’s check-in time.

“Let’s go to sleep, Bar,” Hal whined, closing the laptop before stretching with a fatigued groan. “I’m beat,” he hummed, trying to sound as tired as possible in order to convince his workaholic best friend to join him. 

Barry paused from his place at the desk, looking at Hal in the mirror before turning, their eyes locking. “Alright,” he grinned, inhaling a deep breath before touching the comm in his ear. 

That was surprisingly easy, Hal thought, beaming back as Barry stood to get rid of the knots in his back. 

“Hal and I are signing off for the night,” Barry tapped his ear, presumably talking to Bruce, nodding after the affirmative message back. He flashed another smile Hal’s way as he slowly removed the comm, setting it beside the Lantern’s (Hal had taken it out as soon as they’d gotten back from dinner). 

Barry returned to the computer after plugging their comms into the charger Bruce made for them, speaking to Hal over his shoulder. “You can wash up first, Hal. I need to write up a summary for the others,” he spoke absent-mindedly, his fingers already flying across the keyboard.  

There it was. Barry couldn’t just stop, could he? 

Hal internally chuckled, placing his closed laptop in the dresser drawer under the television. “Hey, Bar,” Hal mused, resting his hand on the speedster’s shoulder, “Don’t get carried away, hm?”

Barry tore his gaze from the screen and placed his hand over Hal’s, their eyes meeting again. “I won’t,” he beamed, giving Hal’s hand a reassuring squeeze, his eyes crinkling into that half-moon shape, his lips curling upward into that smile he only reserved for the Lantern again.

Oh god. 

Hal beelined to the bathroom as fast as he could without running like a dog with its tail between its legs, fighting the blush that was rapidly forming on his face. He braced himself against the sink counter, his heart echoing like a drum in his chest, his breathing labored and rapid. 

Fuck. The things Barry did to him.   

Hal wasn’t sure he could make it through the weekend knowing that all this—them dating—wasn’t real. Barry wasn’t—he’d never—he doesn’t love you, he doesn’t love you, he doesn’t—

“Hal, are you okay?” 

He didn’t even realize he’d closed the bathroom door, but he was thankful he did. If Barry saw the state he was in…. Hal sighed, rubbing his hand over his face in frustration before he sucked in a deep breath, turning on the tap to clear his mind, the water soothing him. 

“Yeah. I just…,” Hal coughed, holding the doorknob with his free hand, hoping Barry wouldn’t try to come in.  

He could hear the gears turning in Barry’s head on the other side, the speedster wondering whether to open the door or not at Hal’s cut-off sentence. “Okay,” Barry replied after a beat, his voice muffled. “I’m gonna run over to get some pajamas from Ollie. I forgot to pack them for us earlier.” 

Hal released the breath he was holding, hurriedly splashing water over his face to cool down. “Alright.” 

“Back in a flash!” 

Hal let out a small laugh at that before finishing the rest of his nightly routine. Barry returned a couple of minutes later, the room door opening with a click from the keycard before it closed, the speedster locking the door and replacing the deadbolt. 

“All done.” Hal exited the bathroom, holding the door open for Barry, his eyes drifting to the pajamas his best friend had changed into. 

Green Lantern jammies. 

Hal burst out laughing, holding his stomach as he doubled over. “Oh god, Bar,” he sniffled, laughing harder when Barry pouted, his cheeks red with embarrassment.

“I’m gonna kill Ollie after this,” Barry mumbled under his breath, smacking Hal in the face as he tossed the other set to the Lantern. 

Hal caught them before they fell, his shoulders dropping in disappointment. Flash pajamas, really? How on the nose was this? 

“Dammit, Ollie,” Hal groaned, rolling his eyes as he shucked off his shirt, reluctantly changing.  

Too bad Barry had disappeared into the bathroom before Hal’s show, his killer body on full display. Yeah, they’d seen each other naked before, but this was different; there was a certain tension in the air. 

There went his chance to show off his ass, Hal grumbled playfully, putting on the rest of the outfit. He ruffled his hair, shuffling around as he folded their clothes and placed them in the closet before taking his ring off and setting it next to Barry’s on their bedside table. 

“Hey.” 

Hal looked up from fluffing the pillows as Barry returned, the speedster fidgeting with his fingers as he stood on the opposite side of the bed.  

“Yeah?” Hal smiled, untucking the duvet from under the mattress, walking toward Barry with a curious head tilt. Don’t tell him Barry wanted to work again? 

Uh oh. The nervousness was back, Barry running his hand along the back of his neck. “I-I was thinking….” 

Hal’s smile widened into a mischievous smirk as he leaned into Barry’s space. “You were thinking….” 

Barry flushed, gently pushing Hal back with a hand on the Lantern’s chest, the speedster shaking his head at Hal’s antics. “I’m gonna get some extra bedding from the front desk. I thought I could sleep on the floor tonight and tomorrow we could switch.” 

“What?” Hal reeled back, his brow furrowed in confusion at Barry’s proposition. That hadn’t even occurred to him; the bed was more than big enough to fit the both of them. Hell, it wasn’t like they hadn’t shared a sleeping space before, and in the few times they had, the bed had been much smaller. 

Hal didn’t know why it was such a big deal to Barry now.  

Well, there was one reason—Hal shook his head and immediately shoved that thought down, not wanting to stifle the hope that still flickered in his heart. Barry was just trying to be polite about their boundaries, offering a compromise because they hadn’t discussed their sleeping arrangements yet. 

“The bed, you can go first…,” Barry’s voice trailed off, the speedster misunderstanding Hal’s reaction to his idea. “I can go—”

“Bar, c’mon,” Hal hummed, gesturing to the bed before them as he cut his best friend off, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Clark could join us and we’d still have wiggle room. Besides, the floor can’t be good for your back,” Hal smiled, affectionately running his fingers down Barry’s spine before immediately pulling back when the latter shivered from the contact, the Lantern’s eyes widening at his mistake. Oh crap; that was too forward of him. Fuck. 

If Barry thought Hal had overstepped physically, he said nothing. Instead, the speedster reluctantly agreed, absentmindedly fiddling with the corner of a pillow. “I guess. But Hal—”

Hal sighed, his hand falling to his side disappointedly as Barry refused once again, the speedster stuttering over his words in an explanation. Hal didn’t want to pressure Barry into something he clearly didn’t want, but he also knew that there was no reason they couldn’t just share the bed like two best friends who just needed a place to sleep. It was getting late, anyway, and Bruce had crammed in an entire morning of activities that they had to be up in six hours for.  

“Barry,” Hal tried again, reaching for his friend’s wrist so the speedster would look at him. “It doesn’t have to mean anything, man,” Hal shrugged, staring into Barry’s eyes so his best friend knew he was sincere, that it truly didn’t have to mean anything more.

“Okay,” Barry nodded after a pause, returning Hal’s affection with a caring squeeze on his hand. “You’re right, Hal. The bed is big enough.”

Hal beamed back at Barry’s small smile, the Lantern’s heart skipping a beat as the latter blushed, his cheeks coloring that pretty red. Barry grinned wider, looking down before his eyes met Hal’s again, his brow furrowing as he coughed, his gaze now trained on their still-tangled hands.  

“Shit, sorry,” Hal jerked back, removing his grasp from Barry, his ears heating in embarrassment. He’d gotten so used to the feeling of Barry’s hand in his that he’d forgotten that best friends didn’t usually just do that with each other. 

“It’s alright,” Barry chuckled, the small smile returning as he walked around to the other side of the bed. “Shall we?” He gestured, hesitantly pulling back a corner of the blanket. 

Hal hummed, mirroring Barry’s movements. It was an awkward shuffle to get themselves under the covers, but they eventually settled, Hal resting his head under his hands while Barry lay beside him, stiff as a board. 

Oh god, he was cute. Hal internally chuckled, turning to his side as he leaned on an elbow, gazing at Barry’s coffin-like sleep position, his body completely tucked in from the neck down. “Relax, Bar, I don’t bite,” Hal snickered, trying to lighten the tension that was as thick as molasses. Anything to make Barry more comfortable and not absolutely hate Hal for convincing him to sleep together. 

“I know,” Barry slowly opened his eyes, tilting his head in Hal’s direction before he looked away, biting his lip. “I know,” he mumbled just out of earshot from Hal, almost as if reassuring himself that everything would be fine even though Barry clearly wasn’t. 

Fuck. 

Hal pushed too far. He could feel Barry’s fingers speed fidgeting underneath the covers, the speedster most definitely overthinking and regretting his decision to say yes to Hal. The Lantern had heard the uncertainty in Barry’s voice when he’d agreed earlier, but Hal had selfishly looked past it, thinking that Barry’s physical comfort mattered more than his emotional comfort. 

Hal was a shitty friend for not recognizing he was overstepping their platonic line. He should’ve considered Barry’s feelings instead of only thinking about his own. 

Did it suck that Barry seemed to absolutely hate the idea of them sleeping together? Yes. And did it also suck to know that Hal was the reason Barry was totally miserable? Yes. 

A crack formed in Hal’s heart, the tiny flicker of hope he had about him and Barry threatening the fade into obscurity. But none of that mattered right now besides his best friend’s happiness.  

“If it really bothers you, I can sleep in the other direction.” 

Barry made a noise of confusion before he perched up, Hal’s stirring intriguing him. “Hal, I—” The speedster whispered, his eyebrow cocked in confusion as his gaze followed the former’s movements.  

“It’s alright, Bar,” Hal reassured, his pillows already moved to the foot of the bed, the Lantern crawling under the blanket beside Barry’s legs. “I should’ve offered before, anyway.” 

Barry’s brow furrowed further as he sat up, his lips pulling into a small frown. “Hal—”  

“Can you get the light?” Hal interrupted with a yawn before turning away from Barry, determined to not let his friend see his devastated face. Because then Barry, like the saint he was, would ask if Hal was okay and Hal would have to tell the truth because he could never lie to Barry. And then Barry would reject him after his confession because he could do so much better than a fuck-up like Hal and because he had never and would never reciprocate his feelings.  

The room was still lit. “Bar?” Hal reminded, shaking his negative thoughts from his head as he buried himself further into the blankets. 

“Y-yeah. Got it.” 

Hal could hear the mixture of a forced smile and sadness in Barry’s voice as the room plunged into darkness, the only source of light coming from the thin gap between the front door.  

“Thanks.” Hal sighed, running a frustrated hand over his face. That wasn’t the reaction he was expecting. He definitely did something wrong if Barry had felt the need to fake his emotions around him. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

Hopefully, tomorrow’s Hal would have more luck. 

“Night, Barry.” 

“Goodnight, Hal.”

Chapter Text

“Nothing here,” Hal hissed, closing the drawer with a construct, careful not to leave any fingerprints behind. Unlike some people—their thieves, cough cough—he actually had the potential to leave behind DNA evidence. Luckily, the hard light constructs from his ring took care of that, allowing Hal to snoop around and touch as much as he pleased. 

Hal had offered to let Barry use his constructs, but as soon as the door closed to the room in question, the speedster had pulled out black nitrile gloves from his back pocket—“You can never be too prepared, Hal.”   

Stupid nerds and their travel-sized forensics kits. 

“Nothing here, either,” Barry whisper-yelled from the bathroom, the hinges on the sink cabinet creaking painfully as he tried to shut it, the sound only getting louder the slower Barry pushed it closed. 

Hal bit back a snort at Barry’s hushed curse, moving to sweep the bed for hidden objects. It was unrealistic, sure, but they could never be too careless. 

As expected, nothing there either. 

Dammit, Hal groaned, reeling the construct back into his ring as he rubbed his neck in frustration. 

The purse wasn’t in their room. Barry reported as much when he rejoined Hal, the speedster relaying their findings to J’onn on the other side. 

Another dead end; a half day wasted following a non-resulting lead. Even the bugs they’d planted in the room yesterday came up empty. 

The League was clearly dealing with an experienced couple—a pair of people who knew how to protect their plans. Clark, J’onn, and Diana had gone over the audio tapes from last night during breakfast, the verbal exchanges between the couple revealing nothing. 

Their only clue was the ruffling of pen on paper. Barry suspected the couple communicated their more secretive plans through a written medium, fearing anything spoken was being recorded. Plus, paper was easier to get rid of, especially with a purse that housed a pocket dimension—universal trash can, anyone?

They were smart—Hal had to give them that (god, Bruce and Barry would have his head if they heard him praising the thieves)—and paranoid, though justifiably so. 

But Hal thought he and Barry were smarter. They’d noticed that the purse never left Ms. Smith’s arm, the latter taking it to every activity since breakfast (Bruce had somehow switched things around so that Hal and Barry were in the same place the Smiths were in). Hal knew the purse was important, but surely you didn’t need to take it everywhere? Breakfast, Hal understood—gotta pay to eat. A couples massage—sure, maybe they wanted to leave a tip. Couples painting—lost Hal there. Besides, each room in the resort had a personal safe to lock precious belongings; surely it’d be easier just to leave it? 

Although, Hal supposed with an object as powerful as that purse, you’d eventually want to take it everywhere, keeping it close. Just like Hal and Barry still wore their rings despite being out of costume. 

So Hal may or may not have dragged Barry away from their walk to lunch when he saw Ms. Smith without her purse. What better opportunity to snoop around their thieves’ room than when everyone else was eating?

“Are you sure?” J’onn’s voice rang through Hal’s comm, the Martian calmly asking for another check. 

Hal pinched the bridge of his nose as he huffed, internally frustrated with himself. He swore Ms. Smith took it off for lunch; the purse was nowhere on her shoulder. And Hal knew Barry could vouch for him, the speedster having sped away to check when Hal initially begged him to leave lunch and break into another couple’s room. 

“Perhaps a later time,” Diana chimed in at Hal’s non-answer answer, her reassuring tone giving Hal a small confidence boost, pulling him from his disappointment. Diana was right—they still had the rest of the afternoon and tomorrow to figure things out before the supposed heist was to go down. 

Hal just hated being useless after such a big potential lead. Once again, he’d let down the League with his impulsiveness, forcibly dragging Barry down along with him. How could Barry ever trust Hal after another one of his classic fuckups? 

“I followed you because I wanted to.” Barry’s features softened, the speedster flashing a bright smile as he gently rubbed Hal’s shoulder, the Lantern’s unspoken inner turmoil nothing new to him. “You and me, we’re always a team,” Barry hummed, reaching forward to comfort Hal as he wrapped his muscular arms around the latter’s neck. 

Hal snorted to hide the way his heart leaped in his chest, leaning into the embrace and encircling Barry’s waist with tanned arms. He sighed against golden blond hair, remembering their promise to each other, the ultimate forgiveness. “You and me, Bar,” Hal repeated, pressing the subtlest of kisses to Barry’s skin, his lips just barely grazing the space behind his friend’s ear.

God, Hal hoped Barry couldn’t feel the way his heart echoed, their torsos pressed flush against each other. He was suddenly very aware of everything in the room—the rumpled bed sheets because the housekeepers hadn’t come by, the hastily tossed notepad on the bedside table, the overstuffed drawers full of disguises Hal had combed through earlier, the smell of Barry’s vanilla shampoo and the hint of cologne that clung to his skin….

Cologne?  

Since when did Barry wear cologne? Since when did Barry bring cologne? Hal was pretty sure it wasn’t on their list of packed items Bruce had painstakingly gone over with them a couple of days ago; but then again, Hal tuned most of that meeting out when Barry had pulled out his notebook and started taking notes. 

Hal hesitantly sniffed behind Barry’s ear before smiling internally, selfishly thinking that Barry had put it especially on for him. It smelled like the expensive kind, the type that only someone with as much money as Ollie could give them—or in Barry’s case, Bruce—the scent somehow richer and deeper than the cheaper ones Hal used to parade around with, the type you only put on for special occasions.

Or for special someones…? Hal stifled a giggle; he couldn’t get the thought out of his brain, the delicate musk that clung onto Barry’s skin intoxicating, like pheromones. The cologne was just concentrated enough that only someone getting as close as Hal could detect it; otherwise, it’d go unnoticed by passing strangers. 

Hal’s heart fluttered at the romanticized idea. Barry knew they had to get close for the mission—act like a couple and do all the things couples do. Maybe this effort was his subtle way of telling Hal that he reciprocated, that he wanted him too. 

“Bar,” Hal pulled away from the embrace first, his arms still firmly anchored around Barry’s waist, a newfound confidence filling his chest. 

“Yeah, Hal?” Barry looked up, their gazes meeting as the speedster shifted, his hands sliding down the front of Hal’s shoulders until they rested on his chest. 

Holy fuck. 

Hal sucked in a breath, glancing away to calm himself before finding Barry’s eyes, the speedster’s blue iris filled with something akin to anticipation. 

Maybe…. “Listen, Bar, I—”

“Someone’s coming,” Clark interrupted, the urgency evident as he repeated Barry’s name, relaying the sound of a keycard from the other side of the door. Hal nodded, giving the speedster the okay as he let go of his friend, Barry quickly scooping Hal up and phasing through the connecting wall, reappearing in the adjacent hallway. 

The Smiths had just entered their room, the husband hurriedly slamming the door closed behind his wife. 

“That was close.” Hal shivered as his molecules stopped vibrating, discharging the excess static electricity on Barry’s flannel, the yellow sparks briefly dancing across his clothes before they fizzled out. 

“Hey!” Barry playfully frowned, bumping their shoulders together as he took up the rest of Hal’s static and grounded himself (normally the ring absorbed the electricity from phasing so Hal didn’t have to discharge through Barry, but since they were in their civies…). “That hurt.” 

Hal rolled his eyes at Barry’s childish pout, knowing the lightning had no effect on him. He chuckled, helping Barry de-fluff the stray fabric fuzzies that stood on end from the charged electrons, patting down his flannel sleeves. “Aw, I’m sorry, baby—”

“Mr. Allen. Mr. Jordan.”

Hal froze at the shrill voice, his shoulders tensing as the hairs on the back of his neck stood up, a chill running down his spine. Barry similarly paused, the speedster’s eyes widening as they met Hal’s before his gaze flickered to the person behind them, his breath catching in his throat. 

Maybe if Hal didn’t turn around, she’d go away. 

“Mr. Jordan,” the feminine voice reiterated, the sound of that sparkly green pen clacking against a clipboard matching the tempo of Hal’s heartbeat, the Lantern’s anxiety shooting through the roof. Don’t, Hal motioned to Barry as he gripped the sleeve of his flannel, begging his best friend to just speed them away even if it meant exposing their powers in front of a civilian. Hal absolutely did not want to interact with the Head of Activities again (not after that fucking breakfast fiasco—they’d showed up right before the dining area closed and caught an earful because they wouldn’t make it to their first scheduled activity). 

She’s staring me down, Barry subtly tapped the morse code on the back of Hal’s hand, his ears becoming redder with embarrassment as the trio stood in a silent standoff, neither side willing to give in.  

“I see that you two have not checked in for lunch.” 

Hal underestimated how much of a stickler she was for protocol. She reminded him of Bruce—that fucker could never get off his case and let him have his freedom. Luckily for Hal, he knew just how to deal with people like this (thank fuck for Bruce, huh?).  

“Marge,” Hal turned around and plastered on his trademark smile, his voice dripping with artificial sweetener as he opened his arms in a show of goodwill. “We were just—”   

“It’s Director Marge to you, Mr. Jordan.” The older woman frowned, the pen tapping on the clipboard becoming more irritated as Hal continued forward, the Lantern finally stopping and getting the hint when she flashed a glare that could rival Batman’s. 

It was scary how she did that; the growl alone associated with the gaze was so eerily similar to Spooky. If Hal didn’t already know Bruce was Bats, he would’ve assumed Marge was—they both had that fucking attitude that exuded “holier than thou” and those fucking rules they never strayed from (they definitely trained at the same school for overbearing assholes).

Barry must’ve caught on to the similarities because he stifled a giggle behind Hal, hiding his outburst behind an embarrassed fist. “Hello, Marge,” Barry greeted after he collected himself, looping an arm around Hal’s so he could pull him away if things got too heated (just like at breakfast, Hal thought affectionately, replaying the interaction in his mind). Barry’s hand was so warm and his features had looked so soft when they ran away together, giggling like little boys, and his lips—

“May I remind you, Mr. Jordan,” Marge interrupted Hal’s daydreaming with a tapping foot, her hands now on her hips as she ran an unimpressed eye over him. “Lunch ends in ten minutes. We don’t want a repeat of breakfast, do we?”

Hal internally rolled his eyes at the suggestion—so what if he and Barry had skipped breakfast and missed the first part of their couples massage? There was a queue in the parlor, so they would’ve had to wait, anyway (and Barry totally didn’t sneak out when they were waiting to steal some offered food from Arthur next door). Marge was just mad because they weren’t sticking to her meticulously pre-planned schedule—which, okay, Hal could understand that after working with Bruce for so long—but she was taking her anger out on Hal when there were clearly two of them in the couple. 

Although, even someone as asshole-y of an asshole as Marge could recognize Barry was a saint. And Saint Bartholomew could use that to their advantage.  

“Marge,” Barry beamed, his smile more fake and saccharine than Hal’s, his face the embodiment of sunshine. “We just thought we’d take a late lunch today.” Barry nuzzled his chin against Hal’s shoulder, pressing himself close as he slipped his hand into Hal’s, entwining their fingers together in an intimate hold. “We were…busy.”  

Holy shit, Hal’s heart damn near burst out of his chest, his hold on Barry’s hand tightening as the speedster looked at him, his blue eyes glimmering. There was definitely a blush forming across Hal’s cheeks, his neck becoming redder as Barry continued staring at him with that fucking look that made his insides turn into mush.    

Hal didn’t even care that Marge could see the goofy, love-struck smile that formed on his face when Barry grinned and playfully stuck out his tongue. God, Hal was so gone for this man. 

“Oh,” it was Marge’s turn to color, her ears glowing a bright red. “I see.” her eyes narrowed, that momentarily stunned expression replaced with the usual hardened jaw as her gaze landed on Hal and Barry’s intertwined hands. “I understand that this resort can bring about certain…feelings. Please refrain from acting on your passions, as it will interfere with my schedule. This is your first warning, gentlemen.”  

“What?” Barry and Hal whipped around at the same time, confusedly watching the older woman beeline away to catch another couple straying from her schedule. Feelings? Passions? What the hell did that mean? 

Evidently, Barry recovered from the shock first, his face flushing as red as his suit. “Oh, Hal,” he bit his lip, embarrassed, as he brought his hand to his mouth, dropping Hal’s grasp. “She meant—”  

Oh shit. Marge was implying he and Barry almost missed lunch because they had gotten distracted and were having sex. Fuck, now things were awkward between them because they’d played it up too much and Hal made it too obvious that he was in love with Barry and—

“Barry,” Hal calmed himself with a stuttered breath, hoping that his best friend hadn’t seen right through him. “I didn’t—I mean….” God, Hal’s heart was beating a million times a second, the fear rising in his throat as his voice trailed off, all his confidence lost. How could Hal avoid addressing how realistically he was playing into this fake dating thing without breaking his own heart and facing rejection? How could Hal explain his feelings so they could recover from this and still remain friends at the end of it?    

Barry’s stomach grumbled. 

Thank fuck, Hal internally sighed in relief as Barry’s blush deepened, the speedster hurriedly pulling him toward the dining room to avoid further mortification. “C’mon, Hal!” 

“Sounds good, Bruce. We’ll call back in a couple hours.” Barry mumbled as he ran a finger along the collar of his shirt before closing the video chat panel. His hair was a mess from running his hands through it, the frustration from the conversation with the rest of the League evident. Barry sighed, craning his neck back to stretch it before inhaling, flashing a tired smile at Hal. “Ready to go?” Barry hummed, the edges of his body blurring as he sped into his adorable red sweater, his hair now tamed. 

Hal chuckled as he fixed his own brunette head, running a careless hand through to push any stray strands from his face. He’d switched out the tee shirt he wore underneath his flight jacket for a nicer button-up shirt to look somewhat presentable in front of his brothers, his good looks doing the rest.      

Fucking hell. Hal couldn’t wait to get this stupid dinner over with so he could get back to the mission and get back to Barry. 

Mission, mission, mission. 

At least the others had more luck than Hal and Barry. Ollie and Bruce figured out the Green Lantern item in question was a newly unearthed scrap from Abin Sur’s ship. Hal thought everything had blown to pieces when Abin’s ship had originally self-destructed, but evidently, some remnants must’ve detached during his predecessor’s entry into the Earth’s atmosphere. 

The local businessman holding the auction at his hotel had let the information slip when Brucie Wayne flashed his big bucks and fluttered his eyelashes, begging to get an exclusive of the oh-so-important alien artifact. J’onn and Clark had verified the piece from Bruce’s recorded footage—it was definitely from Oa and Abin Sur’s final mission. 

The League told Hal the news last, when the Lantern was sitting in their bedroom next to Barry. Hal couldn’t believe it—if Abin’s ship got sold to some fat cat who would never know the importance of what they’d bought with more money than Hal would ever see in his lifetime…. The scrap was an integral part of Green Lantern history and possibly the only remaining physical evidence of Abin Sur left. It belonged on Oa, in their Hall of Lanterns, next to Abin’s statue.   

The good news was that the archaeologists and the hotel owner didn’t know it was from Abin Sur, just that it was alien in origin. The owner assumed the metal-like material was connected to the Green Lanterns because of the green color—which, fair assumption—thinking he could hold a secret auction and make a good buck by offering it to the world’s richest. It was rare to have any souvenirs from a Green Lantern battle because hard light constructs never left a trace, making Hal the hardest hero to steal from. He had no Museum, no ancient culture, no external weapons to loot—hence, why their thieves saved Green Lantern for last.  

That meant someone was feeding the Smiths information if they knew about such a secretive auction that even Bruce and Ollie weren’t aware of until two weeks ago. 

What had started out as a thievery of a Kryptonian crystal had blown into something larger than the League imagined. To an outsider, they could easily dismiss the items as simply Justice League-related, but unbeknownst to them, all of them were personal. A crystal of his mother from Clark’s baby ship, the first Batarang Bruce had thrown with Dick as Robin, Ollie’s old hood costume and Dinah’s old choker from their first mission with Roy as Speedy, the boots Barry had worn when he’d accidentally universe jumped and first met Jay Garrick, and now Hal’s Abin Sur connection. Not to mention the cultural artifacts from Diana, Arthur, and J’onn’s homeworlds. 

There were more pieces to the puzzle. Something they weren’t seeing. 

“Have fun on your date,” Ollie interrupted in a sing-songy voice, teasing Hal through their private comms channel. 

Goddammit. The whiplash from changing topics gave Hal a headache. He nearly jumped from his seat on the bed, hurriedly waving Barry off as the latter glanced over in concern. 

“It’s not a date.” Hal turned away from Barry and hissed under his breath, hoping Ollie would comprehend the scathing tone of his voice. If Barry had heard that, Hal wasn’t sure if Dinah would still be friends with him after her husband’s mysterious and unfortunate death…. 

Ollie seemed unfazed by Hal’s unspoken threats; he could imagine the archer carelessly brushing him off with a dramatic hand as he spoke up again. “Yeah, whatever.” 

Hal internally snorted at the reaction; he could hear the eye roll from the other side of the comm as Ollie crossed his arms, his eyebrows raised in disbelief. Next, Ollie would mumble some variant about how he didn’t understand what Hal saw in Barry before backtracking because Dinah would reprimand him. It was the same drill as always—Hal gushing about Barry and getting all flustered and Ollie groaning and declaring his disapproval while Dinah laughed at their childishness from the sidelines.

“Ha ha, Ollie,” Hal bit back at his other best friend’s latest dig at Barry, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’ll tell Barry you said that about him,” Hal snickered, retying and tightening the laces on his shoes before gesturing to his ear, playfully mocking Ollie with his free hand as Barry smiled on at him while adjusting his bowtie. 

“Good,” Ollie’s high-pitched voice echoed in Hal’s ear, the static crackling as the volume cut in and out. “You tell that asshat—oh shit —I hope you remember to use protection—Pretty Bird—” Ollie’s comm cut out for the final time, the sound of Dinah shooting a rushed ‘bye’ before everything faded into silence the last communication Hal received from the League. 

Guess he and Barry were on their own until this dinner thing blew over. Hal sighed before laughing into his hands, the reality of his situation finally dawning on him. Dinner with his brothers. As a couple with Barry. Pretending to be in love with Barry when he actually didn’t even need to because he was already really so madly in love with him. 

Hal laughed again as he ran a frustrated hand over his face. If only he hadn’t opened his big mouth and impulsively volunteered to go on this mission with Barry. If only he hadn’t acted on his jealousy because it’d hurt too much seeing Barry being all lovey-dovey with another member of the League, despite knowing everything was fake and only for the sake of the mission. If only Hal could’ve gotten over his feelings for his best friend sooner and accepted that nothing could ever happen between them. Then this whole thing wouldn’t be blowing up in Hal’s face and he could still keep their friendship intact because walking on eggshells around each other was utter torture. 

But then Hal would’ve never known what it was like to hold Barry’s hand like that. What it was like to see him all flustered when Hal called him darling and flirted just past the line between friendship and something more.  

Hal could take all that he could get. If it meant that they were still friends at the end of all this and Hal could continue shoving his feelings away without Barry wondering.   

“Sorry for dragging you into this, Bar,” Hal stood up and sighed, brushing the imaginary dust from his jacket. “You can still back out if you want to,” Hal smiled, unconsciously reaching forward to adjust his friend’s crooked bowtie; he noticed the left side was higher than the right.

Barry blushed under Hal’s touch, the speedster’s cheeks immediately coloring. “It’s—It’s alright, Hal,” Barry whispered, his gaze flickering down to Hal’s hands before they met the Lantern’s, blue on brown. 

Oh fuck; Hal sucked in a breath and looked away as Barry hesitantly reciprocated, adjusting the neckline of his shirt collar and flight jacket. He’d secretly hoped that Barry would’ve taken the obvious out to avoid witnessing the disaster that would ensue at dinner. Hal could just make up an excuse about Barry not feeling well or something, just so the speedster didn’t need to be caught in the middle of a family fight. And it wasn’t like Hal hadn’t disappointed his brothers before and backed out of bringing dates around his family. Of course, Jack would just call his bluff and sneer at Hal’s cowardice—he would never bring around someone who would stick around long enough because of his commitment issues. 

But that’s just it. This was Barry—someone Hal had seriously considered and wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Someone he wanted to introduce to his family as his lover and not his best friend, unlike all the other times Barry had joined them. 

The first meeting Hal had with his brothers in months and his relationship with Barry had to be fake. Because Barry didn’t actually love Hal like Hal loved Barry.

What a fucking joke. 

Hal internally groaned as he plastered on his trademark smile to hide his emotions, his charm dialed up to an eleven. “After you, Bar,” Hal smiled, throwing an affectionate arm around Barry’s shoulders as he led them out of their bedroom, the speedster playfully rolling his eyes as he played along.

Barry soon broke away from Hal’s embrace, his hand trailing down to grasp Hal’s own, his thumb brushing gently across his knuckles. Startled, Hal whipped around only to see Barry taking the lead, the speedster resolutely staring ahead as he dragged Hal behind him. 

Hal had to stifle an excited smile as watched the back of Barry’s head, his heart doing jumping jacks in his chest. Barry had said nothing, not even flashing him a smile of acknowledgment like he usually did as he kept a fast pace. The only sign that he knew Hal was still following him was the constant affectionate squeezes, which Hal eagerly returned. 

If Ollie saw the expression on Hal’s face right now…. 

And god, those tight fucking pants (Hal couldn’t help his drifting gaze). 

Barry couldn’t know what he was doing to Hal, right? 

Fuck. 

First couples’ yoga and the run club, now this. A series of targeted attacks toward Hal’s willpower. 

Barry had always liked yoga—“it’s nice to slow down to normal, human speed sometimes, Hal”—incorporating it into his daily routine whenever he could to ground himself. Personally, Hal didn’t see the appeal, but Barry had hyped it up so much that he reluctantly went to the class (it’s not like he had a choice, anyway; the Smiths were there, too). 

Boy, was Hal wrong about yoga. 

Now, Hal knew it made him a bad person for viewing a calming exercise like yoga as something sensual, but he just couldn’t help it. Not when Barry wore those tight, stretchy pants that somehow made his ass look bigger than it already was. Thank god most of the exercises the instructor made them work through as a pair were back to back so Hal could at least control his wandering eyes (but it was probably worse that way because the feeling of Barry’s ass pressing against his, and especially when they had to bend over…). 

Someone put Hal in horny jail and throw away the key so he couldn’t get out. 

Served him right, anyway. Apparently, Ms. Smith had taken off her purse and placed it on a nearby bench during the class. It could’ve been the perfect opportunity for Barry to rummage through it and gather more clues. 

Granted, Hal had been a little distracted to notice and by the time he did, the session was over and the purse returned to Ms. Smith’s arm. Sue him—Hal was a man who had priorities, people. 

They’d gone running after yoga, the Smiths leading the pack of couples around the resort grounds and beachfront. Hal had thought, surely, Ms. Smith would take off her purse for this, but she’d ended up adjusting the strap and wearing it like a crossbody bag, so it never left her sight. Another clever trick, Hal had snorted in disbelief, shaking his head as he followed Barry, the speedster keeping a close, but not suspicious, pace behind the couple. 

The Smiths slowed down whenever they neared the fence separating the hotel next door, almost as if they were analyzing their plans, looking for uncovered exits and lapses in security. Barry had also pointed out that they were probably also watching for rich persons of interest a la Ted Kord or Lex Luthor, among others (Clark had growled into the comm when a familiar-looking black car pulled into the underground garage with Delaware license plates). 

Given that Hal and Barry hadn’t been able to extract anything else from the Smiths—they really didn’t talk, did they? (and J’onn had shot down the telepath question Hal had)—Bruce resigned to form a plan that would hopefully lure them out at the auction. Hal and Barry returned to their bedroom to clean up for the video call before dinner, the Lantern carelessly shucking off his shirt as soon as Barry closed the door.     

They had stared at each other, both flushing at the situation Hal awkwardly put them in. He hadn’t meant to strip in front of Barry like that, but it’d become a habit after missions to head straight to the Watchtower showers without a second thought. And while Hal and Barry had seen each other naked before, it’d never been like this—not when they were both conscious (not knocked out from a mission or without a charged Lantern ring) and totally not surrounded by romantic signals hammering down on them (that was probably Hal just projecting).  

Hal attempted to take control of the situation by making a flirty joke to lighten the tension between them—a ‘like what you see, Bar,’ or a ‘my eyes are up here, Bar,’ or even a ‘take a picture, it’ll last longer, Bar,’ but Barry suddenly began slowly removing his shirt, leaving the Lantern speechless. 

Hal’s breath caught in his throat as he raked his gaze over Barry’s body. The sweat glistening off his skin and trailing down his lightning scars, his chest heaving up and down and up and down, hypnotizing Hal. 

God, Barry looked so good even when he was a supposed mess. It was truly unfair—the universe did have its favorites. 

If Hal had a devilish smirk on his face, Barry said nothing; although the blush that was rapidly spreading down his neck told him otherwise. Instead, the speedster took Hal’s inability to move as an invitation to go first, the speedster slipping into the bathroom and shower to wash up. 

Hal hated to see him leave but loved to watch him go. 

The shower curtain closing had snapped Hal out of his trance, the Lantern following Barry so he could take advantage of the free sink. Barry answered with an affirmative after Hal’s curt knock, the latter using a spare towel to dry himself off while Barry showered.  

The sound of water pelting against the tub did all sorts of things to Hal. He shamelessly imagined the water dripping down Barry’s perfectly chiseled body, washing away all the sweat and grime, leaving him all sparkly and clean (what Hal would give to be a water drop, blessed with the opportunity to run all over Barry’s torso).  

And what if…what if Hal thought about stepping into the shower with Barry? What if he pulled open the curtain and saw the speedster waiting for him in his nude glory, his eyes hungry and his lips parted, inviting? 

Hal immediately berated himself for being so horny again. He was gnawing on the bars of his enclosure and the only remedy was Barry Allen. 

Fuck. 

Hal quickly excused himself from the bathroom before he went crazy. Being too close to Barry was becoming too much of a problem; he had to distance himself before he sabotaged everything. 

The universe was really testing Hal today. 

Barry emerged from the bathroom freshly showered, his dripping hair pushed back neatly. His bath towel hung low across his hips, his V-line clearly visible (if Hal looked closer, he could also see the faint outline of something else). And then Barry had smiled that adorable, shy fucking smile when their eyes met and Hal lost it, bolting to the bathroom and slamming the door shut. Hal’s heart just about burst out of his chest as his blood rushed downward, the cold water doing nothing to help his problem. 

Hal had to bite the inside of his cheek to avoid any suspicious noises as he helped himself. If Barry ever heard, Hal seriously considered high-tailing it to Oa and never coming back. 

Thankfully (at least Hal hoped), he’d avoided the trip to Oa. Slowly, Hal stepped out of the shower and grabbed the towel Barry had left him, wrapping it high and tight around his waist.  

Maybe his release had given him some confidence, but Hal changed his mind after seeing himself in the mirror, adjusting the towel to rest lower, the base of his happy trail poking itself out. Two could play at this game. 

Barry’s blush meant everything to Hal. He’d frozen, his neck and ears coloring that deep red as his eyes followed Hal’s every move, the Lantern grabbing clean clothes to change into. 

Hal could feel Barry’s gaze on him as he bent down to put on some underwear, his ass on full display. Cheekily arching his back, Hal slowly slid a leg into his pants, gasping as the zipper mysteriously got caught on his bulge, the Lantern moaning in frustration as he adjusted himself and slipped into the other leg.   

Barry audibly gulped. 

Hal turned around with a smirk on his face, his blush equally as prominent. If that reaction meant what Hal thought it did….

Barry’s wet tongue flicked across his lips as their eyes met, his pupils blown wide. The corner of Hal’s mouth curled upward, the Lantern eagerly stalking toward Barry like he was about to devour him. 

“Allen.”  

Fuck Bruce and his somehow supernatural perfect timing. He may have been a lifesaver in the past, but now he was Hal’s biggest cockblocker. What would have happened if Bruce hadn’t interrupted? 

Hal shot daggers at Bruce when he came onto Barry’s computer screen, the speedster rubbing his neck apologetically as he turned on the camera. Barry looked almost disappointed, like he’d also wanted to see where things would’ve gone, like he wanted Hal too. 

Please, Barry, don’t give him hope. Hal’s jaw hardened as he tried to hide his expression, stomping his feelings away in favor of the video call.  

Hal and Barry had so far come up short on clues. The Smiths were clever to not let up anything in public, and even in private, they rarely said anything out loud (sorry Clark, but no super hearing to the rescue). And while J’onn could use his Martian telepathy, he couldn’t seem to penetrate their mind—perhaps a brainwave dampener? 

Again, Hal wasn’t really paying attention to all that stuff. The only thing he managed to catch without Barry elbowing him as a reminder was the temporary backup plan turned potential primary plan. Ollie and Bruce would make a joint bid on the Lantern artifact and place a tracker on it once it was in their possession. Then, while the auctioneer verified the payment, Bruce and Ollie would excuse themselves and let the Smiths rob them. The plan was to follow the tracker and hopefully recover the rest of the stolen League items. For backup, Clark would pose as a private reporter for Wayne and keep tabs. Diana, J’onn, and Arthur would go undercover as private security, while Hal and Barry stayed behind at the resort in case something went down there. 

They’d ended the call when Hal was able to repeat it back to Bruce, which, of course, Hal completed on the first try. His heart fluttered with encouragement when Barry looked on supportively, the speedster never doubting his competence. Hal’s mind may have wandered, but he was still sharp and a great multitasker (thanks, years of practice learning how to juggle his feelings while simultaneously maintaining his friendship with Barry).

Barry, Barry, Barry. 

Did Hal mention how awesome Barry Allen was? The way he always stood by Hal and was his number one supporter, the way he always explained things to Hal in an intelligent, but non-condescending way, the way his blue eyes would light up and sparkle—

Hal snapped himself out of his thoughts when he heard Jim call out his name. Barry turned to him, allowing the Lantern to catch up as they fell beside each other, their steps in sync. 

Hal smiled at Barry as he removed his hand from his best friend’s grasp, instead resting it on the small of Barry’s back. He gently led Barry forward, pulling out his chair and pushing it in for him when he sat, the speedster squeezing his hand in thanks when they were both settled. 

Jack sat opposite Hal, his older brother zeroing in on his and Barry’s hands when neither let go. Hal could tell he was about to ask about their relationship when a waitress arrived, swooping in to save him from the interrogation (Hal was sure to get an earful of questions after they ordered). 

Surprisingly, Jack mentioned nothing about Hal and Barry, the older brother only targeting his attacks toward Hal and his inability to commit to the family. Maybe Jim had wrangled Jack in, somehow.  

Or maybe it was because Jim had a big announcement and didn’t want infighting. Because Sue was pregnant with her and Jim’s third child, the couple breaking the news to everyone after the entrées had arrived.    

Jan immediately congratulated Sue, the older woman throwing her arms around the younger in a big bear hug. Following his wife’s example, Jack stood up and patted Jim on the back, holding his wine glass up in a cheer, celebrating another addition to the Jordan clan.

Beside Hal, Barry smiled, clapping at the joyous occasion before clinking his water glass against Jim’s offer. Barry hummed as he took a hesitant sip, nudging Hal with his elbow, the Lantern lifting his own cup to congratulate his younger brother and his wife. 

It seemed like his brothers’ lives were all moving so fast, and here Hal was, stuck. No kids, no house, no nothing. Not even his boyfriend was real, because he and Barry weren’t actually together, no matter how much Hal had desperately wished they were. 

Sometimes, Hal thought he used up all his wishes on maintaining his survival (especially on Lantern or League missions), leaving no room for his love life. That could explain why nothing had progressed in his relationship with Barry (it was just an excuse to blame someone else rather than have Hal take accountability—he could easily confess and move on after the rejection, but his fear took over every time he mustered up the courage).

Barry ran a reassuring thumb across Hal’s knuckles, his grasp on their hands tightening. He knew of Hal’s insecurities, of feeling like he was behind in life because of his inability to commit to anyone, combined with his duty to the Green Lantern Corps. It made for a time-consuming mess, leaving Hal with very little wiggle room for anything besides Ferris and the Justice League.  

That’s why Hal always showed up for Barry whenever he was Earthbound. Because he wanted Barry to know that he could always count on him, that he could be a reliable partner for him, someone he could lean on during times of hardship. That Hal was worthy of Barry’s love and attention, that he would even sacrifice his own comfort for Barry. 

Hal hoped Barry had noticed his efforts to be with him despite his limited time on Earth. His actions conveyed how much he cherished him, how much he loved him. Of course, Hal didn’t expect Barry to reciprocate his feelings because their friendship meant everything to him, but if it helped…. 

Barry flashed a shy smile at Hal, his crooked grin making Hal’s heart flutter in his chest and the butterflies dance in his stomach. Delighted at the blush forming on Barry’s cheeks when Hal beamed back, the Lantern boldly grabbed their still intertwined hands, placing a soft kiss on Barry’s finger, his lips just barely grazing pale skin.

The deep flush on Barry’s neck that followed made Hal’s heart soar, recharging his love battery. Yeah, Hal could do this.  

Too bad Jack had to interrupt their tender moment, the older brother barging in to disrupt Hal’s peace like he always did. “Obviously, I’ll help with the expenses,” Jack announced, standing smugly with his arms wide open. “We know how much a new baby can cost.” 

Jack’s smile then turned vicious, the older man licking his lips like a starved wolf waiting to devour their herbivore prey. “What about you, Hal?” he feigned innocence, his now curious look masking his maliciousness. 

Hal fought back the urge to eye roll at his brother’s blatant flex and strike. He knew Jack would do this, would attack Hal’s poor financial stability and his flakiness. Yes, it was true Hal couldn’t commit money to helping Jim’s family because Carol couldn’t pay him a constant salary, and yes; he wasn’t reliable enough to babysit the kids because he was always leaving Earth, but that didn’t mean Hal wasn’t willing to help in any way he could. Because even if Hal felt ostracised by Jack and their mother, Jessica, Hal was still willing to put up with their bullshit for the sake of their family. 

Barry tensed when he heard Jack’s scathing words, the speedster opening his mouth to defend Hal before the latter interrupted, silently telling Barry to pull back with a reassuring wink.    

“Isn’t Jack’s offer wonderful, babe?” 

Shit. 

Hal didn’t know why he said that. The ‘babe’ had just slipped out.

But Hal could test the waters, see where things landed. It was a horrible time to say it, he knew, but Hal couldn’t help that his mouth moved faster than his mind, like it always did. 

Hal’s heart pounded in his ears as he awaited Barry’s response, the world suddenly slowing to a crawl around him, like he’d accidentally gained superspeed, the tick-tick-tick sound of his watch stretching into what felt like an eternity.   

Sadly, the only reaction Hal got out of Barry was a cocked eyebrow before he blinked, reeling back slightly. Barry huffed, shaking his head exasperatedly as he looked down and smiled to himself, finding Hal’s gaze again as he looked back up like he always did when witnessing Hal’s antics (but if Hal had glanced closer, he would’ve noticed Barry’s free fist clenching in surprise before it migrated to his leg, pinching down to stifle his excitement). 

Dejected, heartbroken, and fully convinced that interaction meant Barry absolutely hated the pet name and wanted nothing romantic from him, Hal quickly scrambled for another phrase, his eyes widening in horror. “I mean—It’s great you offered first, Jack. I’ll help, too.” 

With what money? Hal could sense Jack’s question, the older brother furrowing his eyebrows in disbelief. Sure, Hal may not have the funds now, but he could figure something out by the time the baby arrived. Maybe he could beg Carol for some extra hours or ask if Bruce or Ollie had any odd jobs for him to earn some spare change. 

Barry nodded encouragingly as Hal offered his skills for the time being; Jim had previously talked about getting a deck built in his backyard but never got around to it because contractors in Coast were expensive. And with a new baby on the way, Jim and Sue definitely didn’t have the funds to hire anyone. Besides, Jack wasn’t exactly handy like Hal—mechanical engineering degree, anyone? 

“I think that’s an awesome idea, Hal,” Barry smiled, his sparkling eyes restoring the confidence that had previously waned. Hal’s heart skipped a beat when Barry blushed, the speedster tucking an imaginary strand of hair behind his ear when their eyes met; the hope in Hal reignited. That ‘babe’ slipup was just a little flub, something he could brush off as sticking to the mission; Hal could still recover and find another opportunity. 

“Thanks, Bar,” Hal hummed, squeezing his best friend’s hand as they continued with dinner, the second entrée arriving in the nick of time. 

The third course came quickly after, the waitress preparing a flambé table side, the fire burning into a large column. Hal shifted in his seat, tugging at his shirt collar. This shit was too fancy for his tastes—he’d much rather be eating burgers with Barry on a rooftop somewhere, anywhere, than here. 

But Barry seemed to enjoy the show, the speedster’s face lighting up in excitement as the alcohol ignited before it evaporated, leaving only the flavor. Hal smiled at Barry’s childlike wonder as he placed an arm around the back of his chair, Hal’s eyes tracing over his best friend’s angelic features. 

Maybe Barry liked fancy things like this—opportunities like these were rare to come by; either the restaurants were out of their tax bracket or because Barry’s too-fast metabolism made it impossible to be full on the meager portions they served. Hal should file that away for later—maybe for a birthday dinner with the two of them, when Hal could save up just enough money to pay for the bill.  

“What?” Barry questioned Hal with his eyebrow after the food was served, the Lantern’s gaze never leaving his best friend’s face. 

Hal glanced away shyly when he felt the heat in his cheeks, licking his lips nervously before he turned back, shaking his head. “Nothing, Bar.”

The short answer didn’t seem to satisfy Barry, but he reluctantly dropped the subject when Hal distracted himself with the food before him, shoving a forkful into his mouth. Hal internally heaved a sigh of relief at the avoided confrontation, ignoring the way his heart pounded against his ribcage. If Barry pressed further, Hal wasn’t sure he could come up with a lie fast enough, blurting out a blatant flirty response that was sure to raise eyebrows because ‘You’re just so gorgeous, Bar’ and ‘I love it when you light up like that’ weren’t things you say to your best friend that you totally only love platonically and definitely not romantically. 

But maybe the silence after Hal’s “nothing” was even more damning. Sue shot Hal a knowing look, her smirk very telling of how much she saw through his feelings, of how Hal didn’t want to act so overly affectionate with Barry in front of his brothers because he was still a little afraid of just how much he loved Barry. 

Damn those reporter instincts. First Iris, then Clark, now Sue. Hal really needed to stop hanging out with people who could sniff out the truth he wasn’t ready to admit to himself. 

Something in Hal’s periphery caught his attention. Barry subtly touched his comm, the speedster hiding the gesture by scratching the back of his ear. 

Please, Hal hoped, begging for a bailout. He could already see Sue whispering to Jim, the reporter presumably gearing up to ask something about Hal and Barry’s relationship (thank god they’d rehearsed their cover stories before this). 

“Hal…,” Barry hissed under his breath, his lips dangerously close to Hal’s ear. “We really need to go,” he signaled, his eyes silently gesturing to the rest of the table. 

Hal nodded, placing a calming hand on Barry’s knee as he wracked his brain for excuses. Knowing Jack, he was sure to pester them about why they were leaving in the middle of dinner. 

Fuck it, Hal was always the more impulsive of the two. 

“Barry and I really need to go.” Hal hastily stood up, wiping his mouth with the cloth napkin before dropping it beside his plate. The more urgent he could make this seem, the less questions would be asked.  

Jim frowned, his eyebrows scrunching in disappointment. “But they haven’t served dessert yet.”  

Hal’s heart dropped to his stomach. He always hated making Jim upset. “I know, Jimmy,” Hal muttered, trying for some semblance of damage control. “But Barry and I really—” 

“Yeah, run away, just like you always do, Hal.” Jack stood and faced the Lantern, his hands clenched into fists. “Tell Jim you don’t have time for him. Again.”  

Hal fought back a snarl, his older brother purposely goading him for a fight, his fists slowly curling into his palms. A younger, more hot-headed Hal (a la an hour earlier Hal) would’ve taken the bait, but Barry was right beside him, his fingers intertwined with his, the speedster running a soothing thumb over a protruding vein. 

I’m here, Barry’s eyes whispered. 

I know, Hal smiled back, squeezing Barry’s hand thrice to show his appreciation. God, he was just the best.

Which is probably why Hal blurted out what he did, his mind wandering to other things. 

“We’re gonna go have sex.” 

Barry made an odd strangled sound, his voice getting caught in his throat, almost like he was choking on his own spit. 

The others were the same, their expressions a mixture of shock and disgust—Jan had frozen, her fork held in midair, and Sue held her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide. 

Jack grimaced, his face contorting into something beyond discomfort as he became unrecognizable. Jim took the news a little better, but he looked equally appalled, his jaw dropping so far down Hal thought it almost detached from his skull. 

Barry was so gonna kill Hal for this. But sue him; it was technically Barry’s fault—if he wasn’t so handsome and amazing and just all around a great guy, Hal would’ve never declared what was on his mind. 

And besides, the look on everyone’s faces was totally worth it. 

Hal finally broke out in laughter when he and Barry left the dining room, the speedster hurriedly shushing Hal as he pulled him along, his grip firm like a parent holding their wander-prone child. 

“Have sex, really?” Barry side-eyed Hal, his cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. “That’s what you went with?”

Hal stifled a chuckle when Barry glared daggers at him, frightening the Lantern a little (but it was also kinda hot, arousing him). “Sorry, it was the second thing that came to mind.” 

“You couldn’t have said the first thing?” Barry grumbled, his tone accusatory as he picked Hal up and phased him through the door. 

Hal cringed when Barry set him down and poked him with a finger to release the residual static electricity, the lightning draining into the speedster. Barry wasn’t gonna like this, Hal contemplated, but knowing how stubborn his best friend was meant Hal had better confess sooner rather than later. And that adorably pouty look wasn’t helping Hal either.

“I was gonna go blow you off?”

Okay, that Batglare was scarily accurate. 

“Shit, Bar!” 

Hal deserved the unimpressed lightning shock from Barry, the sparks flitting from Barry to Hal. He also deserved the chorus of groans coming from the League comms.

“Listening!” Ollie shouted, his virgin ears forever tainted (his words, not Hal’s). 

“Second it is!” Barry declared at the same time, furiously apologizing to the League for forgetting about the open comm line. Hal had to fight back an eye roll at his Midwestern politeness, throwing an arm around Barry’s shoulders to reassure him. 

“How much time?” Hal asked, already scanning the Smiths’ room for any missed or new clues since lunch with his ring. 

“Ten minutes, tops,” Bruce replied, his voice gravely and unimpressed with Hal’s horny excuse to get out of dinner earlier. “Hurry.”

“Only way I know how,” Barry chortled, flashing a god-awful yet endearing wink at Hal. 

The Lantern could only snort, shaking his head exasperatedly as he let go of Barry, glancing around the room in an effort to contribute. There had to be something they’d missed before or something the Smiths had carelessly forgotten to hide that would lead the League on the right path.   

There. The notepad on the bedside table. Hal’d been so distracted with Barry last time, he’d totally forgotten to run it by his ring. 

“I got something,” Hal hummed into his comm before gesturing to Barry, the speedster watching as the ring’s beam traversed the front page, the indentations from a pen materializing onto his construct. 

“Neat trick,” Barry smiled, playfully bumping their shoulders together as the ring parsed through the scribbles, trying to match them with every known language.  

“Yeah. Batman’s pretty great, huh?” Hal’s smirk widened when Barry scoffed, the speedster shaking his head in mock disbelief, them both knowing that Barry had been the one who’d first shown Hal that writing indentations on pieces of paper were potential clues, back on one of their earliest missions together. 

“Flirt,” Barry exasperatedly huffed when Hal winked, his sigh contradicting the rapid pink blush forming across his cheeks.

“Only for you, babe.” Hal laid it on thick this time, the moment just coming naturally to him as he replaced the arm around his friend’s shoulders, pulling him close.  

Barry’s face flushed completely red, his ears almost glowing as Hal’s lips barely grazed his skin, whispering about how gorgeous that sweater looked on him, how those rolled-up sleeves that exposed his forearms—   

[Scan complete. Unidentified language. Perhaps a combination of English and Binary code.]

The fuck? Hal frowned at his ring as he pulled away from Barry, his eyes dancing across the construct image of the lifted text. The notepad…the Smiths must’ve written in some sort of personal code if Hal’s ring couldn’t decipher it. A combination of English and Binary code? Like the zeroes and ones that computers used? 

Maybe the “language” was a cryptogram—one of those cipher code thingies that Wally had been into when he was younger; the ginger had an entire activity book filled with them stashed in Barry’s house somewhere.

Barry seemed to think the same, the speedster relaying the idea to Bruce and the others. Clark would fly to Barry’s house and retrieve the book while the remaining Leaguers checked out the local library for more information. 

Hal conducted one last scan of the room with his ring before he signaled to Barry, the latter nodding in understanding. They had to get out of the room before the Smiths returned. 

Smiling, Barry looped his arms under Hal, picking the Lantern up with ease. Hal reluctantly settled into his best friend’s arms, his elbows held in discomfort at the thought of phasing for the second time in five minutes. The only thing that saved Hal from protesting was the feeling of being pressed against Barry’s very nice chest, those rippling muscles, and that embrace that felt just right. 

“Do you have to carry me?” Hal joked, trying his best to distract from how heated his face felt. 

“Don’t I always?” Barry smirked as their eyes met, the speedster’s blue eyes twinkling with mischief. 

Shit. 

Hal suddenly found himself splayed against a wall in an empty hallway, Barry cackling before he caught Hal in his arms as he fell forward. 

Hal spared Barry a nasty look, the latter laughing even louder as he held his stomach with a free hand and doubled over, Hal in tow. They stumbled, Barry tripping over him and inadvertently pressing the Lantern against the wall again, their limbs a tangled mess. Hal snorted, somehow managing to catch Barry in the process, his arms hooked under Barry’s before Barry’s face miraculously smushed in Hal’s chest as they lost balance again.  

“Bar, I—” Hal chortled before he stiffened, realizing he had accidentally slipped a knee between Barry’s legs and brushed it against his crotch. 

Barry froze, his face bright red as his mouth blubbered like a fish, scrambling for an explanation. Hal was equally embarrassed, the Lantern’s face no doubt matching his friend when he realized his thigh was still pressed against Barry’s now noticeably larger bulge. 

“Mr. Allen, Mr. Jordan,”—oh thank fuck; Hal never thought he’d be this glad to see Marge—“This is the second time I’ve caught you straying from your schedule. If I catch you one more time, I’ll have no choice but to let you two go.” 

Marge’s stomps slowed to a more cautious pace as she approached them, a startled gasp leaving her throat when she awkwardly paused, standing just far enough to give the perception she was talking to them, but adamantly refusing to get closer. “Mr. Allen…?” Marge clicked the end of her pen irritatedly when Hal and Barry remained silent, her clipboard resting against her hip as she tapped her foot impatiently. 

“Sorry,” Barry barely croaked out, his flushed face hidden behind Hal’s flight jacket. “We-we were—” A muffled moan escaped Barry’s lips as he pushed himself away from Hal, his cock once again brushing against the inside of Hal’s thigh. 

Hal had to bite back a groan himself, the contact through the pants stimulating. He coughed, unsubtly adjusting his crotch, his face surely as red as Barry’s suit by now. “We—” 

Marge zeroed in on Hal’s movements, the older woman shooting an unimpressed look at the couple. “Spare me the details, Mr. Jordan,” she resigned, pinching the bridge of her nose, the pen lodged between her middle and pointer fingers. “One more penalty,” Marge reminded, wagging her pen in Hal’s face. 

The Lantern’s eyes narrowed when he noticed the design of the pen, the realization running through him like an electric shock. 

“Hate to cut you off, Head Director.” Hal stepped back from Marge and grasped Barry’s hand, the speedster understanding the silent squeeze Hal gave him. “But my boyfriend and I were busy,” Hal smirked, his lips curling playfully as he wrapped a tight arm around Barry’s waist, pulling his best friend further into his embrace. 

The sound of Barry’s breath hitching made Hal’s heart flutter with excitement, but the kicker was Barry immediately relaxing into Hal’s arm and leaning his head on his shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world. Barry made all the butterflies in Hal’s stomach activate, sending tingles throughout his body, from the tips of his hair to the ends of his toes. 

Marge’s eye twitched irritably at the affection. “Dismissed,” she angrily waved them off, the whistle hung around her neck whacking her in the face as she spun around. 

Hal would’ve burst out laughing and gotten them thrown out for strike three if Barry hadn’t slapped a hand over his mouth to silence him. The speedster’s neck was equally red as he tried to restrain himself, burying his face into Hal’s shoulder to muffle the sounds of his laughter. 

They ran back to their room in a fit of giggles, Barry and Hal collapsing on the bed beside each other, their legs dangling off the edge. 

“Marge is totally working for them, Bar.” Hal stared at the ceiling before turning to Barry, his breath catching in his throat as beautiful blue eyes met brown.  

“Or she’s just really into her job,” Barry hummed, letting out a small chuckle. “Drill sergeant-esque.” 

Hal propped himself on an elbow, raising a disbelieving eyebrow at Barry. 

“She’s probably working with them.” Barry agreed, his lips pulled into a thin line. “Crap.”  

Hal snorted at Barry’s inability to curse despite the dire circumstances, the speedster’s eyebrows twitching as he presumably ran through their interactions with Marge, trying to pinpoint how much she knew. Them bumping into her twice within the vicinity of the Smiths’ room couldn’t just be brushed off as a coincidence anymore; she was probably the lookout. And as the Head Activities Director, Marge could track anyone who strayed from their designated places, identifying them as potential interferences. 

Good thing Hal was so effortlessly proficient at being in love with Barry that Marge thought they were just another horny couple eager to have sex anytime and anywhere.  

“Hey, Hal?” 

“Hm?” Hal’s features relaxed into a content smile as he looked down and raked his gaze across Barry’s face, the latter blushing under the stare. 

Barry shyly averted his eyes before he looked back up at Hal, his hands resting on his stomach, his fingers nervously fidgeting. “Was that what you figured earlier? You looked like you had a revelation, for once.” 

For once. Hal playfully rolled his eyes at Barry’s jab, the speedster flushing when he realized his unintentional insult. Barry bit his lip, the smile returning to his expression a moment later when Hal laid back down and turned toward him, beaming. 

Hal’s heart did a little somersault in his chest when Barry’s grin widened, his eyes sparkling brighter than any star Hal had ever seen. 

God, he was so in love with Barry. Hal loved how they could silently communicate with each other, loved how Barry knew his tells, loved how easily they had slipped into being a couple…it gave Hal hope that maybe, just maybe, Barry wanted him too. That Barry wanted him as more than just a best friend. 

“That pen was the same,” Hal finally whispered, his eyes finding constellations in the popcorn ceiling to distract from his very heated face.  

Barry made a noise of intrigue from beside Hal. “As the one in the Smith room?” He finished Hal’s observation, the speedster blurring around the edges of his body before he stabilized, his form solid again. 

“Think they’re onto us?” Hal knew Barry just went superspeed mode to check on the Smiths, confirming both Hal’s pen theory and Marge’s whereabouts. 

“It’s better to assume that they are.” Barry sighed, reluctantly taking out his phone to text their updates to Bruce as the others were still out and about in Coast City. Bruce quickly replied, the Dark Knight confirming Marge’s involvement—apparently, Marge wasn’t even her real name, but Hal had never met such an aptly named person for the Head Activities Director that he almost, almost asked Bruce to change it for her, the mischievous twinkle in Hal’s eye earning a light shove from Barry. 

The string of curses when Hal dramatically fell off—slowly slid off—the bed prompted an unsolicited video call from Bruce. Annoyed, Hal reluctantly picked and dusted himself off when Barry summoned him, the speedster pressing himself against Hal so they could both fit on the phone screen. 

Bruce made the executive decision to pull Hal and Barry back while the others handled the situation. The League still needed to decode the notepad for any clues, and risking getting caught by Marge again could jeopardize their mission if they weren’t careful. 

Exhausted, Hal yawned when Barry ended the call and dropped his phone amongst the sheets, the speedster turning to smile softly at him. 

Fuck, their faces were really close. A millimeter forward and their noses would touch, their lips just a movement closer from slotting against each other. Hal’s tongue unconsciously flicked across his mouth in the heat of the moment, Barry’s eyes trained on the motion.   

Maybe it was the almost desperate look on Barry’s face, maybe it was his parted lips and that gorgeous pink blush, or maybe it was the gnawing voice in the back of Hal’s mind telling him to just fucking go for it, but Hal hesitantly reached for Barry’s bowtie, flicking the edges before he tugged on it, pulling Barry closer. Their noses bumped into each other, Hal tilting his head as his breath grazed Barry’s lips in a small chuckle, the speedster shivering in response. 

“H-Hal,” Barry stuttered, his cheeks bright red, his pupils dilated. 

“Yeah, babe?” Hal absentmindedly fiddled with Barry’s bowtie, his heart warming when he realized this one was his favorite, that Barry was wearing the pattern especially for Hal. Smiling, Hal’s pounding heart echoed louder in his ears when Barry’s big blue eyes locked on anticipating brown ones, his stomach turning into mush at the intimacy between them.  

“Hal…,” Barry’s voice trailed off when Hal inched closer, tan fingers brushing the underside of Barry’s jaw. Just a hair’s-width more and they’d be kissing…. 

“We’re not actually dating, Hal.” 

Oh. 

Oh. 

Right. 

“Sorry.” Hal stiffened before jerking back, his heart shattering into a million pieces at Barry’s whispered rejection, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion when Hal had leaned forward to press their lips together. 

How could Hal have been so stupid to think that Barry actually reciprocated his feelings? That Barry harbored anything beyond platonic emotions toward him, that he wanted Hal the way Hal wanted Barry? Barry was just playing it up for the mission like he was supposed to, clearly drawing his boundaries between their friendship and the romance act while Hal had blatantly ignored them, his head clouded with fantasies best friends shouldn’t have about best friends.  

“I’ll wash up first, Bar.” 

The bathroom door shut, and Hal silently cried into his hands, muffling the sound with his ring. He felt like Barry had torn out his heart and stomped all over it, but that was a stupid thought because Barry wasn’t at fault for Hal’s broken heart. If anything, it was Hal’s own doing because he’d mistakenly interpreted Barry’s friendly interactions as something more, reading into things that fed his delusions. 

Hal gripped his chest, his shirt balled into his fist as if trying to hold his bleeding heart. He had to lock his feelings in a box and throw away the key for the sake of the mission and for the sake of their friendship. Hal Jordan would rather forgo his own happiness and put out that fire that burned in his chest if it meant keeping Barry Allen in his life. 

Fuck. 

Maybe love wasn’t in the cards for Hal.

Chapter Text

“See ya, Jim.” Hal waved goodbye to his younger brother as he rounded the corner, pushing the cart toward his room. He and Barry—mostly Barry—decided to forgo lunch in the dining hall, the speedster opting to remain on his computer. Hal, having spent countless Watchtower shifts and sleepless nights with Barry, knew that the workaholic would often lose track of time and forget to feed himself, his mind focused only on finishing the task at hand. 

When Barry showed no sign of stopping, Hal volunteered himself to grab lunch to go so they could eat while they worked. Someone had to look out for Barry and make sure he didn’t starve himself.  

Hal internally smiled when he thought of Barry, his heart slowly repairing itself from the previous night. Sure, Hal may have gone to bed heartbroken, his feelings completely shattered and stomped all over, but the morning brought a new hope, his stomach filling with butterflies once again. 

They’d ended up tangled together, Barry’s arm thrown around Hal’s waist and his nose pressed against his back, spooning Hal from behind.  

The feeling of his best friend’s warm body against his had startled Hal when he’d woken up, the Lantern unsure how they got in that position, especially since he was pretty sure he’d slept at the foot of the bed again, his body turned away from Barry. Then again, Hal basically blacked out from exhaustion last night, so maybe they did sleep on the same side together and he just forgot as the tiredness overwhelmed him.   

As much as Hal wanted this moment to last, he couldn’t, in good conscience, continue his indulgence. Barry cuddling up to him was just an accident, and Hal would be a horrible person if he tried to take advantage of the situation and remain in this position, fantasizing about how amazing the hug made him feel, about how his heart fluttered. 

Hal bit his lip as he slowly lifted Barry’s arm and wriggled out of his embrace, grimacing when Barry groaned, his face rubbing against the pillow. Exhaling a sigh of relief when Barry settled, Hal quickly set his friend’s arm down and turned, his torso facing the speedster. 

God, Barry looked so peaceful when he was sleeping. 

Hal’s smile widened as his gaze traced over Barry’s face, memorizing every little detail of his best friend. The way his eyebrows just furrowed, his pale skin creasing before it relaxed; his lips, so soft and pink and kissable, and his chest rising and falling with every breath, mesmerizing Hal. 

It hurt so much that Hal couldn’t tell Barry he loved him, his heart clenching in pain. Barry would never ever feel the same and reciprocate Hal’s feelings, no matter how much he hoped. Hal was just forever meant to live beside Barry as his best friend and nothing more. 

But if it meant keeping their friendship, Hal would give up his feelings for Barry. If it meant staying in each other’s lives and growing old together, Hal would forget about his feelings for Barry. 

But maybe it was better knowing Barry didn’t want Hal. Knowing that the best person in the world would never feel the way Hal felt about Barry because he could do leagues greater than him. Because he didn’t deserve to be subjugated to Hal’s emotionally unavailable self and his fractured heart, because Barry deserved so much better than the dumpster fire that was Hal Jordan.  

Maybe if Hal were any other person, Barry would love him back. Maybe he needed to be more like Bruce, more disciplined and less impulsive, or like Clark, more Midwestern, sweet, and caring, or more like Diana, more thoughtful and compassionate.

Sometimes Hal wondered why Barry was still friends with him after all these years. But this was Barry Allen, the man who could see the good in everyone. So he had to see something good in Hal, too, right?  

Hal just wished it were romantic love. No matter how many times he’d shoved those jitters away and told himself that he was fine with being just friends with Barry, Hal wasn’t fine. He wanted to hug and kiss Barry and whisper sweet nothings into his ear whenever they fell into bed together at the end of the day. He wanted to cook and clean and decorate their house together; he wanted that domesticity, that stability with Barry. 

A younger Hal would’ve run away at the first thought of commitment, his fear of being tied to one person taking over his rational mind. But as Hal accepted his feelings for his best friend, he realized that he really wanted to build something permanent with Barry, wanted to come back to him and call him home. 

But Hal would give up all his dreams if Barry ever found someone else. Because Barry’s happiness mattered more to Hal than his own; if Barry was happy, Hal was happy. As long as they were still friends. 

Best friends, Hal decided as he propped himself on an elbow and stared down at Barry. Best friends and nothing more. 

Slowly, Barry’s eyelids fluttered open, his eyelashes capturing what little natural light filtered through the window curtains, turning them golden. He looked like an angel, his face soft and glowing from a restful night, his eyes sparkling despite the lack of illumination in the room. 

God, Hal wished he could wake up to this every day. He should savor the moment as much as he could, watching as Barry sat up and stretched, the speedster’s shirt just barely rising up to expose pale skin. 

Hal had to look away when he felt his cheeks flush, the room suddenly feeling very hot.  

Barry flopped back down, his head bouncing against the pillow before he turned and curled against Hal, their elbows touching. 

“Mornin’,” Hal smiled through the excitement of their contact, his heart fluttering in his chest as he looked down at Barry’s gorgeous face. 

“Good morning,” Barry shyly whispered back, the speedster biting his lip as he hesitantly reached up to brush a stray strand out of Hal’s eyeline.  

Oh, fuck.  

Hal colored, feeling the heat return to his face. Maybe Barry….?  

“Lunch in one hour, lovebirds!” Marge’s voice interrupted from beyond the door, the Head of Activities stopping at every room in the hallway. Soon, her footsteps slowly faded, Hal and Barry bursting into a fit of giggles as they remembered the whistle slapping her face last night.

Then Marge’s words settled in. Barry and Hal panicked, realizing they’d totally slept in and missed the morning League debrief. Barry scrambled for his phone, the notifications popping up in a rapid-fire when he turned it on, the color draining out of his face when he read Bruce’s text. 

Hal’s phone had made a similar noise when he plugged it into the charger, the texts from Ollie all some variation of yelling at Hal to ‘wake his ass up’ or asking if Barry was ‘that good’ last night. Hal flushed when he saw that one, his phone immediately getting thrown across the room when Barry asked to read it, his eyes curious. 

“Room service,” Hal pitched his voice an octave higher, playfully forming a construct apron after the door closed. The Lantern smiled, wheeling their cart of food and docking it next to Barry’s desk, the latter glancing up with a raised eyebrow, acknowledging him with a placating hum. 

Hal’s expression fell at Barry’s reaction. He’d been working non-stop since they woke up, speeding through brushing his teeth, before immediately hopping on a video call with Bruce, ignoring his grumbling stomach and the granola bar Hal offered him.  

Pouty and disappointed, Hal had eaten the granola bar himself while Barry chatted with the League, Arthur updating them on their progress. J’onn, with the help of Wally’s old cryptogram book, decoded the notepad, which outlined the Smiths’ plans to steal the piece from Abin Sur’s ship. They were going to rob the highest bidder when they were verifying the payment with the auctioneer, just like Bruce predicted. Since the League had already accounted for this, there was really nothing else for Hal and Barry to snoop around for—their work was done. Tomorrow, when the auction went down, Hal and Barry just had to stay behind and keep tabs on Marge and watch out for the Smiths in case they returned to the resort. 

Hal interpreted Bruce’s brief as an invitation to relax since they had nothing until tomorrow. Imagine his surprise, when after the call, Barry joined the League’s Watchtower server and began clacking away on his laptop, his fingers flying across the keyboard. 

Twenty minutes later and Barry was still in the same position Hal left him in when he returned. Sighing, Hal uncovered the large tray of food he’d borrowed from the kitchen staff—his good looks were useful for something, after all—wafting the smell Barry’s way, hoping it was enough to distract him. 

Barry’s nose twitched. Hal smirked, his expression smug as the speedster cartoonishly turned toward the smell, his mouth hung open in anticipation, the drool practically falling out of his mouth. 

“Eat up, Bar,” Hal chuckled, serving himself a plate before he pushed the rest of the food to Barry, the latter eagerly accepting the utensils.

Lunch finished quickly, Barry practically licking the food container clean as he scrapped the last morsels with his spoon. Hal snorted, not before stifling his laughter when Barry flashed him the stink eye, his lip curled upward in displeasure. That only made Hal want to laugh more, the Lantern hurriedly taking the utensils from Barry’s hands and cleaning up, pushing the cart out the door to avoid a playful super speed bump to the shoulder. When Hal deemed himself safe, he huffed contentedly, returning the borrowed cart back to the kitchen. The manager who’d let Hal take it in the first place thanked him, pushing two ice cream sandwiches into Hal’s hand. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be taking a break?” Hal raised a confused eyebrow when he spotted Barry’s gaze back on the laptop screen. “I thought Bruce said to relax.” As much as Hal hated to agree with Bruce, he was right; Barry had devoted way too much time to the League mission, blatantly ignoring the very expensive resort before them. 

“This is me relaxing, Hal.” Barry’s reply was met with an unimpressed eye roll. Hal snorted, perching himself on the edge of the desk as he invaded Barry’s space, his arms crossed. “Five more minutes,” Barry sighed when he met Hal’s eyes, his hands clasped together like he was begging Hal for permission, “I promise.”  

He promised, he said. Hal internally snorted, shaking his head. Five minutes would turn into ten, then an hour, then into who knows how long. “Alright,” Hal resigned under his breath, reluctantly giving into Barry’s plea because he just couldn’t say no to the speedster. “Five more minutes.” 

The smile on Barry’s face was worth the disappointment. Hal grinned back, tapping the melting dessert with a tan finger before he stood. “Ice cream’s for you, Bar.” 

Hal’s original plan was to abuse the shit out of the resort waterslide, riding it as many times as he could. But just as he’d changed into his swim trunks, his Lantern ring alerted him. Another GL from Sector 2813 informed Hal of some stray space debris on a direct trajectory to the Asteroid Belt, which could knock an asteroid off course and send it to Earth. 

Sighing at the interruption, Hal slipped out of the resort and immediately suited up, notifying the League of his little detour when he was airborne. 

Five asteroids were hurtling toward Earth in the vacuum of space. Hal heaved a sigh of relief—he’d dealt with much worse on such short notice before. Besides, something like this was rookie work; he’d finish in no time. Hello, waterslide! 

Hal encased the asteroids with his ring, dragging them behind him as he weaved around Mars, heading for the main beltway. After conducting a quick calculation, Hal slingshotted the asteroids back into the belt, the sun’s gravity pulling them into the revolving stream. 

The ring confirmed the return of the asteroids, Hal patting himself on the back for his good work. Another day, another disaster prevented. Hal messaged the Sector 2813 GL, affirming that he’d taken care of the issue, letting the former return to their patrol. 

The sun barely peaked out from behind the Earth’s curvature as it illuminated the right side of the planet in its somehow soft light. His world looked so beautiful; the ocean blues mixing with the green and brown, the white of the Arctic blinding as Hal flew closer. 

It was times like these that made Hal truly appreciate what a wonderful gift the Green Lantern ring was. To be able to view the Earth, not as an outsider, but as an inhabitant, to bask in its grace with a cosmic perspective—no borders, no wars, just a planet of souls existing. 

Hal really should take the other Leaguers up here more often—to show them how truly wonderful space was. He’d taken Barry a few times, the speedster always staring at the multitude of galaxies or supernovas or black holes with wonder-filled eyes, like he was seeing them for the first time (which he was).

But without fail, the thing Barry was most excited for every time Hal dragged him out on a space adventure was turning around and seeing Earth floating in the vastness of space amongst the stars. His eyes would widen and he would gasp, his hands held over his heart as his gaze flickered over the entire planet, the speedster slipping into Flash time as he attempted to memorize the curves of the continents. 

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Barry would say every time. And every time, Hal would look at Barry, at the person he loved most, at his entire world, and reply, “Yes.” 

The speedster was apparently still working on his laptop, the ring confirming his status. Hal huffed, not surprised that his best friend hadn’t been true to his word, getting lost in his head again. 

Well, it was always Hal’s job to pull him out. He wouldn’t let Barry lose himself and Barry wouldn’t let Hal get lost in the stars. 

“Bar?”

“I’m almost done, Hal, I swear.” Barry’s apologetic voice echoed through Hal’s ring. “Five more minutes.”

“You said that last time,” Hal hummed, flying parallel to a dried river basin on Mars. “You promised me, Bar.” Hal pouted like a child, his arms crossed over his chest even if Barry couldn’t see him. 

Hal could feel Barry’s grimace at his accusatory tone. “I know.” Barry shuffled around, his voice muffled before the quality cleared. “Gimme an hour. For real, this time, Hal.”

The line went static when they both paused. 

“An hour,” Hal compromised, whipping around Mars to sling himself toward Jupiter as the call cut off. He needed a flight around the solar system to clear his head, anyway—think about things. 

Hal’s heart sunk to the pit of his stomach as he approached Venus, the planet named after the Love Goddess. 

Why did it feel like Barry was trying to avoid him? Constantly pushing back their hard-earned personal time, ignoring his pleas to just take a break….

Maybe Hal had gone too far with that kiss from last night; maybe he had overstepped Barry’s boundaries. Or maybe this was Barry’s silent way of telling Hal to pull back, to not get carried away with the whole fake-dating thing. Because they were best friends and just best friends. 

But this morning, the tension, Barry’s constant blushes…. That had to mean something, right? Please tell Hal he wasn’t delusional, that he wasn’t making all that up in his head, that there was a real possibility Barry liked Hal back. 

He thought, just maybe, this fake-dating thing would help his chances with Barry, but all of this had just shown Hal that Barry didn’t want him back, that he was just playing into the romance for the mission. 

Barry Allen was a damn good actor for making Hal puzzle over their every interaction. Was any of it real? Did those intimate touches mean anything, did the pet names make his heart flutter, did Barry actually feel love for Hal like Hal did for Barry? 

I love you, Barry. Do you love me back?

Hal’s heart yearned for answers to questions he wasn’t ready to ask.

The moon steadily appeared in Hal’s vision, the Lantern feeling conflicted. Should he go back to Earth, to Barry, or run away to the moon to avoid his problems like a coward? 

Disheartened, Hal took the sharp detour to the smaller space rock, slumping against the side of an impact crater, the remnant perfectly shaped to the arch of his back. Hal sighed, curling his knees to his chest before he buried his face in his hands, another frustrated huff escaping his throat. 

Loving Barry Allen was so easy. But why was progressing, mustering up the courage to confess, so hard? It seemed with each step forward, Hal took three steps back, breaking the Lantern mentally so that he lost his confidence, convinced that Barry didn’t see him the same way.

But he was Hal fucking Jordan. He never let anything stop him from pursuing things before, so why stop now? 

Because this was about Barry. His best friend in the whole wide universe, his anchor, and sometimes the only reason he came back to Earth. If Hal fucked up—which he definitely would—Barry would just leave him and Hal would blame himself for ruining their friendship, for destroying years’ worth of memories because of a dumb crush.  

And then Barry would take him back because he would give Hal a second chance like the saint was, and Hal would ruin that too. They’d be over after that, Barry cutting Hal off from his life forever, the Lantern left alone to mourn the best relationship that ever happened to him. 

Hal stifled the fear in his chest, his blood pressure rising. He couldn’t—not when Barry wasn’t—

“Hal.”

Clark hovered above the Lantern, his cape somehow billowing behind him despite the lack of wind. He looked so stereotypically Superman (the hands on his hips, the effortless curl falling across his forehead, the stars somehow shining, making him glow), that Hal had to pinch himself, thinking he’d accidentally fallen asleep. Maybe his consciousness had sent Clark to smack some sense into him.   

Alas, Big Blue was real, his shoulders raising with a hearty chuckle. “You’re not dreaming, Hal,” Clark beamed as he settled beside the Lantern, playfully bumping their shoulders together. “Figured you might want some company.” 

Hal snorted at how easily Clark had read him, those reporter instincts picking up Hal’s anguish 200,000 miles away. “I thought you were helping with that earthquake?” He deflected, bashfully burying his face in his elbow when Clark laughed again, picking up on the stalling.  

“I heard you sigh.” 

Of course, he did. Hal turned to his friend and dramatically rolled his eyes, shoving away all 200 pounds of muscle; Clark indulging him as he tipped over with an “oof.” 

That made Hal feel a little better. He let out a small chuckle, his shoulders untensing as he let go of his legs and stretched, placing his hands behind his head. Clark mirrored Hal’s position, albeit more modestly, his legs crossed and arms clasped across his lap. 

They stayed quiet for a while, Hal basking in the silence of the universe. 

“You know,” Clark eventually hummed, his thumb tapping against his knuckle. “I thought you two were dating when we first met.” 

Clocked Hal just like that, huh? It seemed like everyone besides the person in question knew about Hal’s romantic issues. 

“Oh?” Hal said for lack of a better reply, absentmindedly running his finger in the lunar soil. As much as Hal wanted to avoid unpacking years of repressed feelings for Barry, he appreciated Clark’s ability to just know how to ease him into the conversation without feeling pinned against the wall, suffocated. 

“Mhm,” Clark nodded, a nostalgic look in his eyes. “When you said ‘partners,’ I thought you meant life partners not partners in crime,” he elaborated, snickering at himself for the past misunderstanding.

Hal exhaled a small chortle, shaking his head when the Kryptonian met his gaze. “Yeah, no.” He looked at the ground, dispirited, before looking back up, shrugging. “We’re just friends.”

Clark raised a skeptical eyebrow. 

Alright, alright, Hal wouldn’t believe himself either. But maybe, maybe if he kept telling himself that they were best friends, maybe he would actually accept it and finally get over his feelings for Barry. Then everything would go back to normal and Hal wouldn’t have to walk on eggshells and dance around their friendship every time he was with Barry. Then Hal wouldn’t have to worry about overstepping that delicate line between platonic and romantic; wouldn’t have to worry about taking things a step too far, flirting a little too seriously, and fearing losing Barry forever. 

“He doesn’t want me,” Hal glumly declared, his chin propped in his palm. There was no use in toying around with the idea anymore, deluding himself with fantasies that would never come to fruition. Barry just didn’t reciprocate Hal’s feelings in a romantic manner, instead only loving him platonically, like the best friends they were.  

Clark pat Hal’s leg optimistically, the Kryptonian flashing him with that infectious smile. “That’s not true. I think he’s just afraid.” 

Hal frowned before squinting his eyes at Clark doubtfully, the latter implying that Barry reciprocated, that he also wanted Hal just as much. “Of what?” The Lantern snorted, his shoulders tensed defensively. “Of being a bad boyfriend? We all know if the relationship fails, everyone would be on Barry’s side,” Hal sighed negatively, playing into Clark’s assumption, humoring him. 

There was a momentary pause before Clark inhaled and placed a hand on Hal’s shoulder, his lopsided smile understanding. Yet Hal hadn’t missed the way Clark’s eyes seemed to imply that they would talk about Hal’s little self-deprecation later, his expression full of concern. 

“I think…,” Clark mulled over the words in his mouth, his head tilted in contemplation. “I think he’s afraid of ruining the friendship. Kinda like you are.” 

Wow, was Hal that obvious? And if Barry really did like him back, were they both that fucking oblivious? 

He was surprised Ollie hadn’t mentioned a League betting pool already. 

“No comment.” Clark raised his hands in surrender when Hal shot him an inquiring look.   

Well, fuck. Hal knew he was deep in the denial, his mind shutting down absolutely any sign that Barry could possibly like him back despite his heart yearning for the opposite. Because if that were true, Hal had to face the reality that his fears could become real, that trying something more with Barry would lead to their inevitable breakup. Because it was easier to live in his delusions, stuck in a fantasy land than accept that Hal’s dreams weren’t that far-fetched and that he could actually get what he’d wanted for so long. 

Because then everything would change between them, would change in Hal’s life. He liked where he was now—the League, the Corps, his friendship with Barry. Something as big as a new relationship with Barry would throw his delicate balance off and possibly cause Hal to self-sabotage and ruin his own life, reducing him to the man he was before Barry, before everything was good.  

But maybe…nothing would change. Everyone in the League already thought Hal and Barry acted like a couple, their love for each other disgusting (Ollie’s words) and god-awful (Bruce’s words). If their biggest critics could call them out like that, maybe there was some truth to the possibility of mutual feelings. 

And Clark wasn’t the lying type. He wouldn’t string Hal along on some false hope that Barry felt the same just to backtrack with a guilty face and a hasty “oops.” Clark was a reporter, a guy who sought the truth, a guy who would never be that cruel to Hal. 

Still, something in the back of Hal’s mind bit back at his reignited hope. Why would Barry want him, too? Hal was an asshole, an incompetent man who couldn’t even keep his own place, crashing at Barry’s house whenever he was Earthside, someone who also flirted way past what was considered appropriate for best friends. 

“He deserves better than me.” 

“Better than a Green Lantern?” Clark tapped the symbol on Hal’s chest, his smile bright. 

“Better than Hal Jordan.” 

There went Clark’s sighs again. Hal shrunk into himself, curling into his protective ball when he felt the former’s gaze on his pathetic self.   

“Don’t sell yourself short, Hal,” Clark encouraged, gently stroking his back. “If you were truly as awful as you think, Barry wouldn’t still be around.”

Hal caught the unspoken “Barry wouldn’t love you if you were a piece of shit,” from Clark’s comforting rubs. “I guess,” Hal resigned, shelving the information for later, his heart and mind too overwhelmed from thinking about Barry too much.  

There was another round of silence, Clark’s hand never leaving Hal’s back. 

“Hey…,” Hal hummed, turning his head to meet Clark’s eyes, a construct plane forming from his ring. “Can you see all the way to Oa?”

“Yeah.” Hal appreciated how easily Clark dropped the subject and indulged him, pushing the plane back toward the Lantern. 

Wait. 

All those times Hal had pleasured himself in the safety of his quarters, Barry’s whispered name leaving his lips as he climaxed, blond hair and blue eyes clouding his brain. All those times Hal had to jump in the cold shower to soften his problem, fantasies of Barry touching him with those slim, pale fingers reversing all of his efforts. 

“Do you look?” Hal froze, bewildered. “Or listen…?” Fuck, he hoped to the Guardians that Clark hadn’t. His innocent self didn’t deserve that exposure.

Thankfully, Clark didn’t catch on (if he did, he resolutely ignored it to spare them both from the embarrassment). “Sometimes. If Barry asks.” 

Hal made a noise of confusion as he cocked a confused eyebrow, the silent question written all over his face. Why would Barry ask about him? 

Clark simply smiled, his head tilting in knowing tell. “He misses you.”

Oh. 

Carol came after Clark. Her violet light flickered across Hal’s vision, twinkling like a star as she approached them. 

“I’ll take it from here,” Carol grinned at Clark, the Kryptonian nodding at the reprieve as she settled on Hal’s other side. 

“Hungry?”

“Starving, actually.” Hal’s stomach grumbled when Carol tossed him a takeout bag from Big Belly Burger, the Lantern encasing it in his aura so he could eat. God, Hal had been out here so long he’d forgotten that he’d run away and skipped dinner. The sudden reminder from Carol was a blessing. 

“Have fun,” Clark winked, his voice laced with a hidden meaning Hal definitely wasn’t meant to understand, Carol chuckling at the gesture. 

Hal eyed Clark suspiciously as he lifted off, his cape once again fluttering behind him despite the lack of air. “See ya, Supes.” He dragged the goodbye out, phrasing it more like a confused question than an optimistic farewell. 

Weird. What were Carol and Clark hiding from him? 

“Dinah and Diana called.” 

Hal hadn’t even opened his mouth to ask the question yet. Of course, they called, Hal snorted, his features eventually softening as he leaned his back against the crater. 

Aw, they cared about him. 

“Gossiping about me in your free time?” Hal lazily smirked, his lip curling upward when Carol met his gaze.

“Obviously.” She mirrored Hal, her grin wide. “You just make it so easy,” Carol dramatically flipped her hair before propping herself beside Hal, her head resting against her hand, her eyes sparkling mischievously.

Easy, huh? Hal internally shook his head, his pouty face on full display. “I’m insulted,” he huffed, crossing his arms like a child, his bottom lip quivering as he played into the bit. 

Exasperated, Carol rolled her eyes and bumped Hal’s shoulder with her own, her hand reaching to ruffle Hal’s brunette locks. “Shut up and eat, Jordan,” Carol sighed, patting the brown paper bag in Hal’s lap before she snuck out a fry. 

He got the hint. 

Hal smiled, purposefully taking a huge bite to placate Carol, the latter grimacing in disgust when Hal dramatically moaned at how good the burger tasted, declaring the flavors melted on his tongue. 

“Save that for Barry,” Carol teased, her smirk wide. Shocked and appalled, Hal flushed at the remark before choking on his food, eliciting a belly laugh from the Star Sapphire when she saw his expression. 

The betrayal. They agreed to only talk about Hal’s Barry problem when he brought it up, not her (Hal always said that, but he really admired when Carol could read between the lines and talk about it anyway because he was too emotionally repressed to open up and strictly avoided conversing about his feelings). 

Scared that Carol was going to make another jab about Barry, Hal wolfed down the rest of his burger and shared his remaining fries. Carol hummed appreciatively, eating the last handful before she stuffed the trash in her ring, offering to throw it away back in her office. 

“I noticed you’re not at our spot.” Carol inhaled, her eyes inviting as she gestured to her open side. 

Hal cracked a small smile in understanding, the Lantern shifting to rest his head on Carol’s shoulder. He fully relaxed into the embrace when Carol threw her arm around him, her steady breathing soothing Hal. 

“Bar found this one, actually.” By accident, Hal should add. It was on one of their earliest space adventures, when he was on a break with Carol, their final relationship still another three on-again-off-agains away. Hal had wanted a different place away from the one he usually shared with Carol, the spot reminding him too much of them and their issues. Barry, ever the empathetic saint, obliged, racing around the lunar surface, searching for the best stargazing spot to call their own before Hal distracted him, the speedster crashing into the crater. 

It’d been too funny not to declare the crater their spot after Hal had to dig Barry out of the pit, the latter too embarrassed to run himself. They forever memorialized it with a moon rock, Hal convincing Barry to place the round stone in the crater center when he promised to never tell a soul what had happened.  

“Ah,” Carol exhaled after the silent pause, her chest rising with a chuckle at Hal’s dopey expression. “I guess that means you like him more, hm?” 

Hal snorted before lifting his head to look at Carol incredulously, the almost bitter tone hidden beneath her teasing a surprise. He thought they’d left things on good terms, had talked all their problems out. “Jealous?” Hal flashed his trademark smirk to mask his puzzlement, hoping he was reading Carol wrong, hoping that she didn’t have any lingering feelings for him. 

The unimpressed look said everything. 

Okay, Hal was an idiot. But hey, when you’re Hal Jordan, you tend to be unforgettable. 

Carol playfully ruffled the base of Hal’s hair, snapping him out of his little ego trip. “Get a grip, Jordan,” she exhaled, the disappointment in Hal’s intelligence written all over her face. 

He deserved that, too. Decades of knowing each other meant Carol could tell when Hal was getting a little too arrogant and needed to be brought down a peg. Honestly, thank goodness she was still willing to put up with him after all the shit he put her through when they were dating.    

“Alright, c’mon,” Carol patted her thighs, her grin knowing as she waved off Hal’s unspoken flattery. 

Hal could only smile wider as he laid his head in Carol’s lap, the latter running a hand through his messy strands. They always used to do this as kids, continuing into their adulthood and even after they’d broken up, the one constant in their relationship. “Yes, ma’am,” Hal mock saluted, Carol frowning as she cringed.

She claimed she hated when Hal did that, but Hal knew she secretly liked it, the endearing strokes becoming softer in Hal’s hair. 

Carol’s hand suddenly paused, her body stiffening against Hal’s. 

“What is it?” Hal cracked an eye open, his fist at the ready, his ring glowing with power. Sinestro? Mongul? Or worse, a Guardian come to finally reprimand Hal’s ass for the inappropriate use of a Green Lantern ring when he had unholy thoughts of Barry? 

Oh no. Carol’s calm expression had turned sour, her smile falling from her lips as Hal glanced up at her, her entire demeanor sad.  

“I thought you and Barry were going to immediately get together after our final breakup,” Carol admitted in a quiet voice, her eyes refusing to meet Hal’s as she fiddled with the Green Lantern symbol on his chest.

“Huh?” Hal seemed to do that a lot lately when it came to conversations about love. Was this an intervention? Clark and Carol tag-teaming…. 

Carol laughed this time, the corners of her lips forming a small smile. “No.”

Shit. This was about Hal’s unanswered question regarding Barry earlier, wasn’t it? Her suddenly bringing up her unspoken thoughts about their breakup, Hal asking she was jealous of…? 

“I already knew you had feelings for him, Hal.” 

Fuck. 

“Is that why you ended our relationship?” Hal frowned as he sat up and faced Carol, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. If he’d known that Carol thought that at the time, he would’ve done everything in his power to reassure her, to show her he and Barry had nothing between them. That they were just very close best friends. And maybe he would’ve even asked Barry to come over and explain their admittedly borderline homoerotic relationship to alleviate her doubt, to show Carol that there was nothing to worry about, that he’d never think about another when he was in love with her.  

“It might’ve been part of the reason,” Carol confessed, a weak smile returning to her lips. “You can deny all you want, but you were in love. You just hadn’t realized it yet.”

“Carol, I—” 

She silenced Hal with a small shake of her head before she gestured to the violet symbol on her chest. Carol understood love more than anyone, that’s why she was a Star Sapphire. With her ring, she could detect great love in one’s heart, even if that person couldn’t see it yet. 

Maybe she was right. Hal had thought he wasn’t in love with Barry by the time of their final breakup, but honestly, the months leading up to it said otherwise. Barry was the first person Hal came to when he returned to Earth, the first person he confided in when the Corps wanted him to take on more hours, pulling him away from his League duties. Barry was the first person Hal thought of when anything remotely reminded him of Earth out in the loneliness of space, memories of him never ceasing to light up his face and brighten his mood. 

Carol had always been the second when Hal guiltily realized that he should’ve thought of all those things about her instead of Barry.  

Perhaps their breakup was inevitable. Yes, Hal and Carol loved each other deeply, but it wasn’t in the way they’d both hoped for, not the type of love Hal had for Barry. 

“We were always better off as friends.” Carol agreed, her grin widening despite her somber tone. “I don’t think we were ever going to progress beyond our little back and forth, no matter how hard we tried.”   

Hal’s shoulders slumped when Carol’s hand fell to her side, the Lantern grasping it to comfort her. “I’m sorry we didn’t work out.” 

“I’m not,” Carol shrugged, her voice full of acceptance, her voice laced with the satisfaction of finally getting closure. “I found someone who loves me and so did you,” she beamed, her pink glove disappearing to momentarily reveal the engagement ring on her finger, her features softening as the diamond sparkled in the starlight. 

Hal wished he could share Carol’s sentiment. In the years since they ended things, Carol had found a better man and gotten engaged within months of knowing each other while Hal was stuck, still desperately pining after Barry, too scared to jeopardize their friendship. Because as long as Barry showed no interest, Hal was determined to maintain the delicate balance between best friends and something more to protect his heart. Hal never overstepped too much, pretending everything was normal between them so as to not reveal his feelings.  

Besides, if something ever did happen…. “He’s just going to leave, like you did.” Hal’s heart seized, his face contorting in pain at the thought despite how stupid he sounded. Barry would never abandon Hal after everything they’d been through, their promise of “you and me” echoing in his mind. But if Hal broke his own heart first, if he decided things would never work out for them, maybe he wouldn’t have to face reality and actually come to terms with the possibility of Barry reciprocating. Because then nothing would go wrong because they would remain friends, no icky feelings getting between their relationship. Hal could continue to live in a world where nothing would change between him and Barry and everything would be just fine. 

Except when it wouldn’t. Except when Hal would desperately yearn for Barry whenever he so much as looked at him and he would realize that he was fucked. 

“So that’s it. You’re just going to give up.” Carol huffed, her lips pulled into a disapproving frown, her eyebrows furrowed. It was less of a question and more of a statement of resignation, Carol blinking at how stupid Hal was acting.   

The silence was damming. 

It’s not like Hal wanted to give up, per se. It just seemed that everything he tried blew up in his fucking face. The flirting, the touching, the not-so-joking-confessions that had more meaning than Hal intended, none of it got through to Barry (or worse, what if they did, but Barry ignored his advances because he was too nice to properly reject Hal, afraid of hurting his feelings). Hal thought he’d made it pretty clear for Barry, letting the speedster take the lead, but what if Hal just wasn’t seeing Barry’s decision? What if Barry was silently rejecting Hal all along, letting him down gently, so as to not embarrass him, so they could keep their friendship?

Maybe Hal wasn’t blind about the fact that Barry loved him too. Maybe Hal was blind to the fact that Barry didn’t love him too.  

“Hey.” Carol snapped Hal out of his spiral, the Lantern returning to his senses when she pinched his nose. “You’re doing it again.” Carol scolded, lips twisted in displeasure as if she physically felt Hal’s self-deprecating energy. “The Hal I know would never doubt himself.” 

Barry had said the same thing to him once. “You never doubt yourself, Hal.” 

So why was Hal so afraid of the idea that Barry could love him back? 

He was already mourning the loss of their friendship despite not experiencing the relationship that could’ve led up to that, his denial stopping him from pursuing his happiness. Because it was easier to just ignore the signs than accept his fear of everything that could go wrong ever manifesting if Hal ever confessed and Barry actually reciprocated.  

Hal would never know what would happen unless he asked. Yes, things could go horribly wrong and Hal could run the very real risk of them never talking again. But things could also go so unbelievably right, and Hal could finally give his heart what it’d wanted for so long. 

Barry deserved to know how much Hal loved him. Even if things didn’t go Hal’s way, Barry at least should know about Hal’s affections so he could move on from the rejection, unburdened by his feelings. 

Or maybe, just maybe, Hal could hope that the confession would go his way.  

Carol smiled, satisfied at Hal’s epiphany. “Go for it,” she whispered, her lips brushing across his forehead in a soft, encouraging kiss.  

Hal mirrored Carol, beaming with his toothy smile. The ember flickered brighter in his chest, growing into a flame, his confidence slowly restoring itself as he powered up his Lantern ring. Hal may have fucked himself over, running away from Barry like a coward, but he could still make the most of the time he had left. There was that formal ball Barry had roped him into (he hoped he hadn’t missed it) and the private time they had in their room; Hal just had to find the right window of opportunity.

“Race you to Coast?” 

Carol smirked, her aura glowing as she took off in a streak of pink. “If you can catch up.”  

Hal did not catch up. Carol left him in the dust, only slowing down when they neared the resort, coasting along the beach before she pulled up, hovering in her victory. “I thought you said you won some of those races with Barry,” Carol smirked, her hair flowing gently in the breeze. 

It was going to be a chilly night.  

Hal chuckled as he shrugged nonchalantly, his back toward the city. “He let me win.” 

“Aw, and you still don’t think he likes you.” Carol teased before her eyes widened, her smirk curling mischievously. 

Something behind him must’ve surprised her. Hal turned, following Carol’s eyeline before his gaze settled on the roof, a familiar head of blond hair just barely visible against the contrast of the dark roof. 

“Oh Hal, he waited.” Carol’s expression softened, her hand clasped over her heart. “Well,” Carol inhaled, hovering closer to the Lantern so she could give a reassuring clap on Hal’s back. “Don’t chicken out,” she advised, her finger wagging in Hal’s face matter-of-factly, reminding him how predictable he was when it came to expressing his emotions. Hal had cowered away from his true feelings so many times with Carol when they were still together, the admittedly much-needed call out didn’t surprise him. Honestly, it was kind of refreshing that Carol was totally on board with this whole Barry thing—Hal had never thought he’d see the day when they were encouraging each other to pursue their own loves, finally free from the toxicity of their past relationship. 

“I believe in you, Hal.” 

Carol’s smile was genuine. And that was the boost Hal needed to decide he was ready. He would confess to Barry tonight, tell his best friend what he’d held in his heart for so long, tell Barry how he made Hal feel.  

“I believe in me, too.” 

Carol hummed approvingly, moving to dust Hal’s shoulders and tame his windswept hair, giving the Lantern one last once-over before she beamed, her pink aura glowing brighter. With a wave, she streaked toward Ferris, a touch of violet energy diffusing into Hal’s suit in her wake. 

Hal’s heart thundered in his chest, the residual Star Sapphire power charging his emotions, his face flushing. He smiled, watching as Carol’s light dimmed before he turned toward the resort, flying to Barry, to his best friend, to his love. 

Fuck, Barry was already wearing a tux. Hal knew he’d skipped out on dinner, but he couldn’t have missed that much of the night, right (even though he was secretly counting on blowing off the dance Barry dragged him into)? 

That wasn’t entirely true. Yes, Hal dreaded going to the stupid fucking dance the resort put on for the last night, the formal dress code and the upscale dinner, and all the things Hal hated about these types of events. But Barry had flashed those gorgeous blue eyes at him and practically begged Hal to go “for the mission,” and Hal just couldn’t say no. It would be like kicking a puppy, and Hal didn’t want to see Barry’s smile fall. 

Maybe Barry was just getting ready for the dance. But knowing how chronically late his best friend was, Hal wasn’t too confident that he’d returned on time if that outfit meant anything.

But maybe Barry had put it on early because he’d really looked forward to hanging out with Hal, the excitement causing him to change early and be on time for once. 

Who was Hal kidding? Barry probably stayed too late for dinner and super sped into it at the last minute when he realized he was late. 

Hal stifled a laugh, already imagining the pout on Barry’s face when the Lantern teased him for his poor timing. Barry would get all blushy as he playfully bumped Hal’s shoulder, the offended, “Hal,” escaping his lips in a high-pitched tone, his eyes sparkling with affection.    

Determined to at least make up for some time, Hal beelined toward the resort, his power trail illuminating the night sky.   

Barry visibly perked up, the speedster’s gaze trained on Hal as he landed, his feet gently settling on the rooftop. “Come here often?” Hal joked for lack of a better greeting, his blush at Barry’s piercing look thankfully hidden behind his mask. God, was his heart beating that fast? 

“Not really,” Barry bit back a laugh as he shook his head, his hand clasped on the back of his neck. 

Oh shit, he was nervous, too, Hal internally freaked out, his uniform calmly retreating into his ring with a low thrum, his green aura disappearing along with his mask. “Bar, I—” Hal inhaled, shoving down the unease in his chest as he stepped forward, intending to apologize. 

But Barry reeled back, his free hand clenched. “Were—were you with Carol?” He quietly asked, his gaze never meeting Hal’s, his stare fixated on the ground. 

And Hal’s heart cracked with guilt. Did Barry think he ran away just to go get back together with Carol, that he didn’t have feelings for him? No, no, no, Hal couldn’t let Barry believe that; he couldn’t let Barry shrink into himself because of his jealousy. 

His jealousy? 

Hal took a tentative step forward, Barry still not looking into his eyes. But he didn’t move back this time, so Hal smiled, the small victory fueling the flame in his heart. “We just talked, Bar. She’s engaged.” 

“Oh,” was Barry’s reply, the speedster slowly unclenching his fist before he found Hal’s eyes, a hesitant smile gracing his lips. 

Huh. Maybe Hal really had been that fucking blind to Barry’s affections. Now that Carol pointed it out, Barry wasn’t exactly subtle, always wearing his heart on his sleeve, his blushes telling. He was just like Hal, thinking that they’d gotten away with hiding their feelings when, in reality, they were both too oblivious. 

There was still a little prickle of doubt in Hal’s mind, like all of this was too good to be true. Because good things didn’t happen to Hal Jordan, because a shitty man like him didn’t deserve to be loved by Barry Allen. 

You never doubt yourself, Hal. Barry’s words echoed in Hal’s mind again, encouraging him. 

“Listen, Bar, I—”

“I thought you bailed,” Barry interrupted, his arms hugging his body, his gaze falling to the ground before he looked up and met Hal’s eyes again. He fidgeted nervously with his fingers, his mouth down-turned in a thin frown. 

Hal snorted to hide how his heart absolutely clenched at the sight. “I almost did,” he admitted, hesitantly reaching forward to touch Barry’s shoulder before he bailed, thinking his friend wouldn’t appreciate the gesture right now. “But that doesn’t matter. I’m here now.”  

“You’re here now,” Barry agreed, that adorable smile that was only reserved for Hal returning his lips, his eyes so full of affection as he glanced at him behind his eyelashes.  

Fuck. How had Hal ever thought Barry didn’t reciprocate?   

“If you change fast, we could probably make the last half.” 

“Yeah?” Hal smiled, his heart skyrocketing into the stratosphere.  

“Yeah,” Barry beamed back, his eyes sparkling.

They did not make the last half. 

Hal had fumbled with his outfit, the stupid fucking dress shirt refusing to button up all the way. Fed up, Hal decided to just leave his collarbone exposed, the top two buttons undone (and if he caught Barry staring at his bare chest, that was a bonus). 

Instead, Hal and Barry haphazardly stumbled into the ballroom, the DJ announcing the last dance of the night, the music transitioning from a more upbeat electronic song to a slower, more sensual one.

Hal sighed disappointedly before pulling Barry further into the room, toward the edge of the crowd. He’d thought they’d have more time together. 

Despite the setback, Hal vowed to make the most of the moment. Five minutes, tops. He could do this. “May I have this dance, darling?” Hal smiled, inhaling calmly before offering his hand for Barry to take. 

Barry beamed back, the speedster gently slipping his hand into Hal’s, his slim fingers caressing tan skin. A spark of electricity fizzled between them, Hal feeling the tingle travel from his hand down his spine, his heart fluttering with excitement. Barry was just as nervous as he was.

Boldly, and maybe recklessly, Hal closed the gap between them, resting his free hand on the small of Barry’s back (his little up-ticked breath almost caused Hal to pull back, afraid, before Barry relaxed into the touch, placing his hand on Hal’s shoulder). 

They swayed for a while, Hal determined to keep his eyes locked on Barry’s before those gorgeous blues made him flush like crazy, his face no doubt the color of Barry’s suit. Hal looked away like a coward, his smile widening as his heart pounded loudly in his chest, drowning out the music until everything sounded muffled. God, he was screwed. 

Hal’s gaze eventually settled back on Barry’s, the latter’s face equally as flushed (or maybe that was just the lighting—yeah, Hal was still in denial). Barry bit his lip and grinned, his eyes flicking to Hal’s lips—please don’t tell him that was just his imagination—before he looked back up, his eyelashes fluttering almost flirtatiously. 

Woah. Hal inhaled, his heart skipping a beat. Hesitantly, he released the hand he still held and moved his downward, both hands wrapping around Barry’s waist. Is this okay? Hal silently asked, his grip light as he tread into unknown territory, dangerously toeing the line between their friendship and something more. 

It’s more than okay, Barry seemed to say back, his free hand rising to rest on Hal’s shoulder before he encircled Hal’s neck with his arms, his fingers lightly brushing at the base of his hair.  

And then Barry flashed Hal that affectionate, reassuring smile, and Hal fucking melted, his heart practically jumping out of his chest to give itself to Barry. It was now or never; quick, before Hal lost his confidence and ruined everything because of his fears. 

“Bar?” 

“Yeah, Hal?” Barry hummed, his face somehow a lot closer than Hal had remembered, their chests just barely touching. 

Fuck. 

Hal licked his lips nervously, the way Barry’s eyes narrowed in on the motion not lost on him. “I’ve—I’ve been thinking…,” Hal started, glancing away before he met Barry’s gaze again, brown on blue. “About us.”

Barry raised a curious eyebrow, his sharp inhale full of hope. “About us?” He quietly whispered, his eyes searching for a tell that this was a prank, that it wasn’t what he wanted to hear, that Hal was just joking around like he always was. 

Hal’s heart broke when he saw Barry’s expression, his face a mixture of anticipation and fear. He hated how he’d made Barry feel like he wasn’t being serious about them, how Hal hadn’t been honest enough about his feelings for Barry to clearly understand his intentions. 

Well, that stopped now.    

“Barry, I—It’s always been you, Bar. Me and you; like we promised.” 

Goddammit. 

That was as close to a verbal “I love you,” as Hal was gonna get. In the end, he’d given into his fear, the three fucking words he was always so afraid of preventing him from showing his true feelings once again. 

But, in a way, what Hal had said meant more. And Barry was smart; he could read in between the lines. 

Hopefully. 

“Yeah,” Barry exhaled, his features softening as his grip tightened around the Lantern’s neck. “Me and you, Hal.” His smile widened, the corners of his eyes crinkling adorably. 

Oh, thank god.

Barry felt the same. 

Hal’s shoulders untensed, his grin mirroring Barry’s. Me and him, Hal repeated, his heart soaring in his chest, his entire body jittering with the excitement of what this meant for them. He loves me back, he loves me back, he loves me back. 

Slowly, Hal removed his hand from Barry’s waist and reached upward, brushing his thumb across his pale cheek. Barry blushed in response, his gaze flitting to the finger on his face before they met Hal’s, his eyes sparkling beautifully despite the dim light. 

Fucking hell. 

Hal gently shifted his hold to cup Barry’s jaw. Humming, he lifted Barry’s chin, his vision tunneling as they trained on Barry’s lips, the speedster’s sweet breath mixing with his own. Yeah, Hal knew it was a bad idea to just initiate and not ask, but his hands were moving faster than his mouth could get the words out, his body just itching to move forward and press their lips together. A moment more and he and Barry would finally experience their first kiss.

Something seemed to click in Barry’s brain when Hal’s eyes became half-lidded, his head tilting unconsciously. Barry stiffened, his hands flying to Hal’s chest as he pushed the Lantern back, his face red with embarrassment. “Let’s call it a night, Hal.” He hurriedly waved, his limbs gesturing wildly, his eyes looking everywhere but at Hal. “We have to be up early tomorrow.” 

And then Barry disappeared in a gust of air, leaving Hal shocked and alone on the dance floor.

Did Barry just…? 

Was that the rejection? 

Hal froze, his mind still playing catch up as he processed everything that had just happened. He’d thought he’d made it clear for Barry, put all his cards on the table. Hal thought he poured his entire heart out to Barry, but Barry just turned right around and ripped him into pieces, utterly destroying him.  

Guess everyone else was wrong. Barry had never and would never reciprocate Hal’s feelings. Hal couldn’t believe he was naïve enough to even consider their thoughts, to let them feed into his stupid fucking delusions, to let them think that Barry ever felt anything beyond friendship.

But a small part of Hal thought he was being impulsive, jumping to the easiest conclusion because his heart couldn’t handle it. Maybe Barry wanted him too; maybe Barry thought Hal was playing into the mission again and wanted a more private confession to be sure; maybe Barry— 

Or maybe it just wasn’t meant to be. 

Hal jerked awake, the soreness from his back killing him. He’d slept—or attempted to sleep—on the very edge of the bed, trying to give Barry as much space as he could without face-planting onto the floor. The awkward position had strained his muscles, his entire body feeling like ass. 

Things had been awkward when Hal returned to the room, the tension in the air thick. Barry was already in bed, his back to Hal, his body completely covered in the blankets. 

Hal knew Barry wasn’t asleep, but he treated him as such, silently moving around the room as he undressed and tucked himself in. 

The room had been too quiet, their alternating breaths the only sound among the darkness. 

“Night, Bar,” Hal eventually sighed, his frown deepening when Barry didn’t reply. Guess they weren’t gonna talk about it, then. 

Exhausted, Hal quickly fell asleep before the sensation of falling awoke him, his body jump-starting his brain. Hal groaned, giving himself a deep stretch before he turned toward Barry, the speedster missing. 

Hal let his hand fall on the empty spot in the bed.   

Maybe he couldn’t sleep; Hal thought, dragging himself up and out. Perhaps the beach? 

Ah. There Barry was.

Hal spotted a familiar blond leaning against the railing on the pier, his arms hugging himself as the cold wind whipped around him. Barry shivered, his head turning just enough for Hal to notice as he approached before Barry visibly relaxed, recognizing Hal’s footsteps.  

The way the tension drained from Barry’s shoulders as the alarm faded away into relief warmed what was left of Hal’s heart. He could feel the pieces start slowly patching themselves, Barry’s implied comfortability and familiarity working overtime like a bandage to keep Hal intact. 

It was a small step forward to mending their friendship. 

Barry inhaled when Hal slipped his flight jacket around his shoulders, the speedster staring at him in surprise before his eyes crinkled, his smile blinding. 

And Hal’s heart skipped a beat again. God, the way a fucking expression made him just melt inside. How pathetic was he? 

Hal, excitedly, beamed back, hesitantly reaching out to adjust the collar before Barry’s finger brushed against his. Jolting at the electric shock—and the way his face heated at the contact—Hal’s arms fell to his sides, his gaze fixated on the water. 

He couldn’t get too caught up in his feelings again. Not when Barry didn’t feel the same. They were just friends, nothing more. 

But what if….

No. It was better for Hal to assume the worst than get his hopes up again just to have them shattered again. He’d already spent years hiding his feelings for Barry, repressing them for the sake of their friendship; how bad could the rest of his life be?

Yeah, Hal was fucked.  

“Hey, Hal?” 

When had Barry moved so close to him, their shoulders practically touching? And why were their faces suddenly a mere inches away from each other, Barry’s hot breath ghosting across Hal’s lips? 

“Yeah, Bar?” Hal flashed a small smile as he stifled the hope in his chest, praying his best friend couldn’t see through the facade he’d put up. Praying that Barry couldn’t hear how loudly his heart echoed against his ribcage. 

“I um—” Barry bit his lip as he flushed, his hand teleporting to rub at the back of his neck in a nervous tick. He smiled, his blush deepening as Hal stared intently at him before he looked away, his free hand gripping the pier ledge until his knuckles turned white. 

Oh god. 

Here it comes. The rejection Hal was expecting, the simple phrase that would prove that Hal loved Barry with every fiber of his being, but Barry didn’t love Hal back because he wasn’t in his heart. 

“Back there….,” Barry hummed, his gaze still not meeting Hal’s, his eyes anchored on the ground. “Back there and all those other times when we were alone. Were you going to kiss me?” 

Oh? 

Oh. 

Oh shit. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Could that mean…? 

“Yeah,” Hal croaked before clearing his throat, his confidence returning. “Yeah,” his voice cracked again when Barry’s head jerked upward in surprise, wide blue eyes finding brown. 

“And it wasn’t just for the mission?” Barry searched Hal’s eyes, his own so full of fear. 

Hal shook his head, his hand reaching forward to clasp Barry’s, their fingers intertwining. “It never was,” he whispered, pouring all his vulnerability into his confession. 

That was all the confirmation Barry needed to lean forward, his smile wide. 

And Hal, like the idiot he was, pushed Barry back with a hand on his chest, self-sabotaging like always. He laughed bitterly, his head dropping as he stared at his feet. “We’re not actually dating, Barry.” Hal had to give Barry an out, give him the chance to take back everything he’d said because this wasn’t what he really wanted, this wasn’t what he really felt in his heart.  

“Oh. Right.” Hal looked up to find Barry frowning, the hurt in his expression devastating. He looked so confused, his eyebrow furrowed, his face just so…sad. And yet, there was a small flicker of hope, his blue eyes bright and determined. “But if we were….” 

“If we were….” Hal’s breath caught in his throat, his body frozen in shock. Barry wasn’t rejecting him; he wasn’t absolutely disgusted that Hal had pushed him away? 

“Would you kiss me if I asked?” Barry’s features softened, his eyes sparkling like stars under the moonlight.  

Hal blinked in disbelief as Barry reached for his hand, their fingers once again intertwining. “Are you?” Hal whispered, the desperation in his voice like a man begging for his life. 

Barry beamed shyly as he looked at Hal from behind his eyelashes, his pupils dilating. “Yes. Please, Hal.”

Hal couldn’t tell who moved first, but suddenly his hand was cupping Barry’s face and Barry was gripping his waist like a lifeline. Their mouths pressed against each other slowly at first, exploratory and cautious, before Barry smiled against his lips, driving Hal wild. Things soon turned passionate, Hal’s hand moving to the back of Barry’s neck to pull him closer, his head tilting to deepen the kiss. 

It was everything Hal had dreamed of and more. Barry tasted so delicious, his kisses soft yet assertive, like he had also been waiting his entire life for this moment. He made Hal feel so safe in his arms, his happiness permeating through the kiss as he melted into him, their bodies becoming one. Like it was always meant to be. 

Hal didn’t think his heart could soar any higher, but when Barry smiled into their kiss again before pulling away, he knew he was done. No more running away from his fears of commitment, no more taking missions to avoid confrontations about feelings, no more doubts about Barry’s love for him.

Barry pressed their foreheads together, their breaths syncing as the heat from the kiss faded. Hal whined, reluctantly opening his eyes, gorgeous blues greeting brown when they met, his heart fluttering in his chest.  

“Barry, I—” Hal groaned, his nose nudging Barry’s so they could kiss again, his already recovering swollen red lips irresistible. It didn’t matter that they had to wake up early tomorrow (this morning, really), Hal wanted nothing more than to press their lips together and kiss Barry until his speed-healing couldn’t catch up with Hal’s hunger anymore.  

Barry shivered under the Lantern’s stare before he pecked Hal’s mouth and cheekily pulled back. He yawned, his eyes teary from the cold air (or was it the happiness from their mutual confession). “Bed?” Barry tiredly broke away first, his innocently inviting gaze dangerous. 

“Bed.” Hal agreed, his smile wide. He was feeling sleepy.