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Coast City has beautiful beaches, all white sand and clear, dazzling water. That doesn't stop Barry from feeling miserable as the heat roils over his skin in relentless waves while he floats on a surfboard close to shore. He opted for a short-sleeved wetsuit but he's already regretting it, his arms and legs baking pink under the California sun.
He has been swamped with work and testing DNA samples for the League but Hal managed to persuade him to "live a little." Learning how to surf did sound fun until they started going over the basics.
"Come on, it's not that hard," Hal says and smiles brightly, waterdrops balancing on his eyelashes. He's only wearing black swim jammers that aren't all that different from the cut of his Green Lantern uniform, except they're noticably thinner. He's disgustingly unbothered by the heat.
"Feel free to demonstrate it again, drill sergeant," Barry says without much bite, balancing precariously on his board.
Hal is making Barry practice pop-ups, critiquing his technique when he gets something wrong, which makes Barry suspect he surfs more often than he lets on.
"Alright but pay attention this time," Hal says, runs a wet hand through his hair, and gets on his own board with practiced ease, the movement graceful and fluid.
He leans up on his hands, drops of water racing down the arch of his spine. Barry chews on the inside of his lips as he watches them soak into the shorts above the curve of his butt. He wants to mouth along that curve, he thinks, eyes widening, and promptly falls off his surfboard.
***
Barry isn't blind. He knows Hal is an attractive guy. He just hoped he could stay friends with him without getting inappropriate thoughts about him.
The asphalt around the airfield is reflecting so much heat the horizon is vibrating with it. Barry pulls at the collar of his too warm shirt and squints at the glaring sun. The things he's willing to do for Hal.
It's bound to be cooler inside so after a moment's hesitation, he zips past security and goes to search for Hal. He finds him standing at his locker, riffling through his street clothes. An outdated calendar is taped to the inside of the door, a "CALL BARRY" post-it note stuck to its corner.
Hal slips on his ring and turns to unlace his boots, freezing mid-motion when he finally notices Barry.
"Hey, Barr," he says and closes the door of his locker with a metallic clang. His brows furrow. "Is there a League emergency? Because I'm not sure you're supposed to be back here otherwise, pal."
"No, it's not that," Barry replies and scratches the back of his head. "I just..." 'Missed you', he doesn't say. "...wanted to get to the beach ASAP. I don't have much free time today."
Hal relaxes and leans back against his locker. It creaks under his shoulder, his flight suit parting with the movement.
"Then we better get going before security catches you here and makes a fuss," he says and pulls the zipper further down to change clothes.
Hal isn't wearing a shirt under his flight suit, his dog tags gleaming between his naked pectorals. The metal must be warm to the touch from resting against his skin, golden and sun-kissed all the way down to his abs.
"Earth to Barry," Hal says and Barry's gaze snaps up to meet his.
Hal is looking at him with an amused twist of his lips. Oh, crap. He noticed Barry staring.
It feels like getting kicked in the throat. Barry thinks of a million things to say, one excuse after another, but they all sound hollow.
"I can strike a pose if you want," Hal says and shrugs his flight suit off his wide shoulders, revealing strong biceps, a narrow waist, a defined adonis belt disappearing below—
"Illwaitoutside," Barry blurts out in a rush and gets out of there at superspeed, his ears burning hot.
***
Alright, what the hell.
Hal has always been a show-off and Barry wouldn't put it past him to enjoy the attention regardless of where it comes from but he has never pulled a stunt like that before. He was doing it on purpose, no doubt about it, which means Barry really is busted.
Barry can't stop turning the day's events around in his head once he's back in Central. He's thinking about every glance and every touch while he's stuck in sluggish traffic on his way to work, while he's studying those DNA samples Bruce asked him to look into, then late into the night as he stares at the moonlit ceiling of his bedroom with an increasingly insistent headache. Someone ought to crown him chief overthinker in charge.
He's tired the next day when he arrives at the Watchtower. The whirr of the Zeta-Tube stabs into his ears and he barely suppresses a wince. Hal is waiting for him in the blissfully quiet conference room, leaning against the table with his arms crossed. Barry might be imagining things, but his uniform seems more skintight than usual.
"Hey," Hal says with a smile that disappears a moment later. "Man, you look tired."
"I worked late on the multiverse case," he says.
It isn't a lie, technically, but Hal doesn't need to know Barry lost sleep thinking about him.
"Oh, about that, I was supposed to show you some related documents and videos."
Hal turns and leans over the table to reach for a tablet on the far side. It's the least subtle thing Barry has ever seen and Hal's smirk as he straightens up is confirmation enough that he knows what he's doing.
Barry's eyes narrow, though his ears feel hot again because that uniform is indeed more form-fitting everywhere.
Maybe Hal is teasing him for a bet? Or he just wants to see if he can fluster him.
Barry dismisses the idea as soon as it occurs to him. Hal can be thoughtless but he isn't cruel; he wouldn't toy around with Barry like that just to feed his own ego.
Which leads Barry to another hypothesis. It feels presumptuous at first, or like wishful thinking. He can't discard it outright though so he does what every self-respecting scientist would do and decides to test his theory.
***
They're in the Watchtower showers when Barry carries out his first experiment. He taps into the speedforce as he unzips his suit, glancing toward the other, and sure enough, Hal is looking at him. It would be a fleeting glance under normal circumstances but to Barry's mind running at superspeed, it feels like an open stare.
The gold flash of his eyes disappears before anyone can notice he has used his powers at all. He's saved from having to figure out how to proceed by Red Tornado's voice alerting the Watchtower of an emergency. Their multiversal human traffickers have made an appearance, armed to the teeth with Amazo-grade weapons. They get back in their costumes with only mild complaining and Zeta to the site.
Barry can't help but keep a closer eye on Hal than normal. That one glance in the showers didn't prove anything but now that he's aware of it, he catches Hal looking at him over and over again, laughing and showing off as usual.
"Flash, look!"
Barry is carrying a civilian to safety when he hears Hal call to him. He risks a glance in his direction to check on him—impressive construct, proud posture, gorgeous smile—just as an energy blast shatters Hal's shield and knocks him out of the sky.
Time slows. Barry wastes precious seconds frozen in place watching Hal fall before his brain finally kickstarts itself. He gets the civilian to safety, then zips back to Hal. Trying to catch him is hopeless; Hal hits the ground with a cry, the green light around his body dimming.
"GL is down!" Barry all but shouts into his comm and moves to lift Hal into his arms.
Batman is barking orders in his ear but he's too busy getting Hal away from the worst of the battle to pay attention. His eyes scan the streets and land on an empty pharmacy. The windows are broken and the lights are flickering with a sickly fluorecent glow but it's bound to have something to help Hal.
"Barry?" Hal groans when Barry sets him down on the counter, looking around to reorient himself.
"Oh, good, you're conscious," Barry says and goes to rummage through the cabinets and the storeage room at superspeed. It's not exactly a hospital but he finds bandages and everything else he needs. It'll have to do until the League regroups and they can Zeta back to the Watchtower. "Can you ask your ring to list your injuries?"
"I'm fine," Hal protests. "It'll heal me."
[Power levels at 1%,] the ring chimes in.
"Or not," Hal says under his breath and lets out a resigned sigh.
His uniform starts dissolving as the last of the ring's charge drains, revealing almost flawless, naked skin. Hal once said the scars on his body all predate him becoming a Green Lantern. That no matter the injury, as long as he survives, the ring can piece him back together. Barry has that in common with him, their powers dragging them back from death's doorstep so they can throw themselves into grave danger again and again.
A properly charged ring would be a blessing right now. The skin over Hal's ribs is bruised black and blue, blood trickling from a deep gash. Any embarrassment Barry might have felt at the sight of Hal's naked body is replaced with worry.
"Let me take care of you," he says and steps closer to carefully start cleaning the wound.
Hal leans back with a wince to watch what he's doing, not bothering to preserve his modesty. Barry wouldn't either if he looked that good. Everything about Hal is gorgeous, lean muscle shifting under evenly tanned skin.
"I'd put on a show but everything hurts," Hal says under his breath, entirely too close to Barry's ear.
Barry's gaze snaps to his, eyes wide, his heart speeding up. Hal is looking at him, a satisfied smirk playing around the corners of his mouth. His eyelashes slowly sweep his cheeks when he blinks and Barry isn't sure if he accidentally tapped into the speedforce just to live in this moment as long as he can.
He's drawn to him but doesn't dare to cross that line between them. Hal, on the other hand, does, his lips brushing against Barry's like an unsure question. It's soft and warm and Barry pushes closer, wants to chase the taste. Hal makes a pleased sound in his throat that almost sets Barry's blood aflame.
"So I wasn't imagining things," Barry says when they part, the pad of his finger tracing Hal's deplated ring before he takes his hand.
Hal shrugs and lightly squeezes his fingers.
"The flirting wasn't getting me anywhere so I had to resort to more drastic measures."
"Sustaining injuries in a fight so you have an excuse to get naked is going a bit too far."
"That part wasn't on purpose," Hal says. "I'm not usually naked under my uniform, for one. That's Guy's thing." He bites his lip and Barry is a hair's breadth away from kissing him again. "It's just, I noticed you looking and you could say I was testing a theory."
"So was I," Barry says with a smile. "Hypothesis confirmed."
He stops resisting and leans in for another kiss. Hal hooks his calf around Barry's thigh and draws him closer, tightening his legs around him like he wants to stop him from running away. Not that Barry wants to move, not unless—
Hal hisses in pain, breaking the kiss. Barry places a gloved hand on Hal's hip (it looks so good there) and pulls back reluctantly.
"The others are probably looking for us. We need to Zeta to the Watchtower and get your battery. Then it's back to the battle unless they're already finished."
"You're no fun," Hal says.
Barry fails to suppress a smile.
"We'll have plenty of time to explore this later."
"We better." He kisses along Barry's jaw and leans closer to his ear. "As soon as I heal, the hot surf lessons are back on. And I'm pulling out all the stops from now on."
Barry is certain he'll never learn to surf at this rate.