oh hush my lovely~
His hands were braced against the wall, knees quivering and thighs tense as Barry worked him open with fast, deft fingers.
"You’re so hot like this," Barry murmured in his ear, "doing whatever I tell you, just waiting for me to do something more;” he punctuated the sentence with a harsh thrust of his fingers that made Hal keen.
Barry whispered filthy things to him, called him names he’d never say outside of the bedroom and gripped his hip tight enough to bruise until he came from just the movement of his fingers; Hal felt wrecked in the best possible way.
Barry grins excitedly as he watches the Northern Lights from above, leaning against Hal’s chest. The brunet Lantern has his head perched on top of the blond’s, smiling at both the blond’s excitement and the vivid rainbow of lights dancing along the Earth’s atmosphere. The first time he’d seen the same sight he’d just floated above the world in amazement.
A small velvet box rests in his pocket with a simple platinum band coated so that even the high speeds that Barry moves at shouldn’t damage it. Hal just hopes the speedster likes it. He just hopes Barry says yes and they can enjoy sights like this for the rest of their lives, a red and green and happy.
[[HalBarry, Superbat. ‘Petting’. To put it bluntly, this is shamelessly fluffy crack.]]
Barry first picks up on it a month into their relationship. They’re worn out, sweaty, and curled up. Barry drags his fingers through Hal’s hair without thinking. Hal’s head is resting on his shoulder. One of his arms is lazily drapped over Barry’s stomach. He makes a content sound in the back of his throat that draws Barry out of his thoughts.
“What was that?” Barry asks with a raised eyebrow.
“What was what?”
"Hold my hand."
Barry blinked at the hand held out to him. “You’re not serious, right?”
"Just hold my hand, Barry."
He took the hand and yelped as he was yanked into Hal’s arms. The pilot picked him up and gripped him tight, arms wrapped around him comfortably as he rose up in the air. He kept their fingers entwined.
"We’re- we’re flying," he whispered into the air as Hal flew them over the coastline.
"Yup," the pilot grinned and pulled Barry closer, sharing his warmth in the cold night air. "Do you like it?" He asked.
Barry laughed and looked at him with wide eyes. “Are you kidding? It’s… This is amazing.”
Hal looked at him with a soft, affectionate look and increased his speed. A small green construct formed over his eyes.
"For the bugs," Hal explained.
Barry laughed and immediately regretted it, spitting and spluttering as a bug flew into his mouth. He punched Hal’s shoulder as the man laughed at him. It didn’t make the moment any less beautiful, though.
Hal held his hand tight, took him up to the stars and kissed him in the moon light. No amount of bugs could ruin that.
Hal stroked the soft fur with a contented smile on his face, his legs propped up on the table in front of him, and watched as Barry walked into the room.
"Hey, how was work?"
"Tiring. We got any left overs?" He made a b-line for the kitchen and rumaged around in the fridge. "Persian, excellent. You want anythign?" The blond called.
"No, I’m good."
Barry walked back in after turning the oven on and sat next to the pilot on the couch. “How’s our stray this afternoon?”
"She’s good. We napped for about three hours earlier."
"Not on the bed," Barry groaned and scratched the tabby behind her ears.
"Yep. On the bed. It was filthy.”
He smacked Hal’s arm and settled down. The cat purred happily as the two men fussed over her.
"Just change the sheets before I pass out, okay?"
Hal laughed and nodded. “Sure. But you can clean the litter tray.”
"I hate you."
"We hate you too," Hal held up one of the cat’s paws and batted Barry’s arm with it.
"Y’know what Barry?"
The blond hummed questioningly and turned the next page of his report, checking through for typos and general punctuation problems. Hal sat down next to him at the table with a thud and nuzzled his shoulder.
"I think I love you."
Barry’s heart leaped in his chest. He’d always thought that the moment would be somehow easy to comprehend; one of them would say the words, then the other would say it back, and they’d get on with life. But Barry felt… strange.
"You… you do?" He didn’t believe it, not wholly.
"Mm, I do," Hal smiled at him nervously. Hal did love him.
Barry kissed him.
He kissed Hal fiercely, hands grabbing at him and tearing at his clothes. They fucked on the kitchen floor roughly, Barry’s back bruised and Hal’s knees red and sore from the tile floor. Hal kept whispering those three words in his ear and kissing him softly.
Laying on the floor, messy and satiated with loose muscles and a dopey grin on his face, Hal said it again.
"I love you."
Barry sighed quietly and pressed closer. “You don’t need to keep telling me, you know.”
"I know," the pilot kissed his forehead. "But I like the sound of it."
"I love you too; just- just so you know."