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Language:
English
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Published:
2020-04-30
Words:
1,096
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
17
Kudos:
170
Bookmarks:
6
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1,685

It’s Just As Well (But I Miss Your Face Like Hell)

Summary:

Hal comes home after an extended absence.

Notes:

title from Rivers and Roads by The Head and the Heart.

Work Text:

Hal was back.

Barry felt him, crowding against his back underneath Barry’s sheets. Gray light filtered in from gauzy window curtains, and so Barry could see Hal’s tired face when he rolled over to greet him.

“I missed you,” Barry said. He tangled their legs together and Hal exhaled softly. 

“You look good,” Hal said. 

“Your hair is graying,” Barry murmured, catching strands between his fingers. “Again.”

“Aging, Bar,” Hal said, pulling Barry’s hand from his hair so that he can thread their fingers together. “It’s just aging.” 

It’d been, what, a year? Over a year? Long enough for Hal to gray, apparently. 

“I missed you,” Barry said again. He’s emphatic this time, pleading with the same furrowed brows that used to convince Hal to stay another day when they were younger and both still attending weekly Justice League meetings. But, that was then, and “then” might as well have been another scrap of loose universe floating aimlessly in the speed force for all of the good it did them now. 

“I know,” Hal assured him, Hal’s soft smile not touching his honeyed eyes. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against Barry’s, and they’re soft too, and Barry wondered if Hal’s lips still crack in space or if he’s learned to wear lip balm. 

And then Barry wondered about all of the other ways Hal may have changed since Barry had last seen him. Barry was no longer a part of Hal Jordan’s daily life, after all. Barry didn’t know where Hal frequented or who Hal liked to see or where Hal had been or even which of Hal’s coworkers made him roll his eyes anymore. Barry could have asked, but the questions would have fit oddly in the intensity between them. Back when they saw each other more frequently, domesticity and small talk was welcome. But, restricted to what few moments they got between large stretches of separation, asking if Oa had bettered their cafeteria menu felt horribly frivolous. 

“Barry?” Hal asked, pressing his forehead against Barry’s, their noses bending against the other’s uncomfortably as Hal tilted his head quizzically. “Are you okay?” 

Barry hadn’t been kissing back. Barry amended that immediately, darting forward to kiss Hal fervently. He gripped Hal’s bicep with one hand and traveled with the other, tracing and clinging to Hal’s body with a vigor that he hoped would dispel any lingering despondency. 

But when they parted, Barry’s yearning hadn’t bridged the space between them. 

“You need to talk,” Hal said flatly. It was nice that he still noticed when Barry drifted. Nice, but a poor consolation prize for Hal’s extended absences. 

“No,” Barry lied. “I’m fine.” 

“I’m not,” Hal confessed. Barry frowned, but the wrinkles between Hal’s eyes smoothed with the admission. “I wish you’d leave Central and come with me. Saint Walker would take you back; he’d give you a ring. You could stay in Oa’s barracks with me, and I’d take you along on longer assignments.” 

“I wish you’d stay,” Barry shot back. “I wish you’d come back to the Justice League and I wish you’d move into my apartment with me. You could manage the Sector from here, and I’d come home from work to you on the couch.” 

Hal snorted and Barry grinned. 

“Please,” Hal said, nuzzling Barry’s cheekbone. “You’d get sick of doing my laundry.” 

“I’d fully expect you to do your own laundry,” Barry retorted. “But I’d order you pizza and watch re-runs of Star Trek with you.” 

“We can do that now,” Hal offered. “We can even watch CSI: Coast City, if you want.”

“We don’t have a lot of time,” Barry said, sitting up. The blankets slid from his shoulders and pooled at their bare waists. Hal stretched where he lay. 

“What of it?” He asked with a yawn, scratching his stomach absently. “You used to watch trash TV with me all of the time. Now, you act like it’ll be the last time we ever see each other. I don’t like it, Barry. If neither of us will budge—”

“If you won’t stay,” Barry corrected.

“— if you won’t go,” Hal amended with a smirk, “then at least be here with me while I’m here. You’re so fucking distant, and it hurts.” Hal propped himself up on one hand to cup Barry’s face with the other. “We’re too old to be pining like this. I’m here. You’re here. Can we please just be here?” 

Barry pressed his face into Hal’s palm and studied him for a spell. 

“Yeah,” Barry said. “Okay. Do you want to watch a Western instead?”

Hal’s eyes rolled back and he gave a long, guttural moan. “Yes, I want to watch a Western. That’s all I ever want. Christ, I love you.” 

“Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain,” Barry said sweetly as he kissed Hal’s palm before rolling out of bed. Hal flopped down and grinned up at Barry.

“Don’t be such a Protestant,” Hal teased. “Live a little. Take Christ’s name in vain.”

“Not this close to Easter,” Barry warned, fetching his laptop from his desk and bringing it back to bed. Hal took the laptop and opened it while Barry slotted himself behind Hal. Hal scrolled through Netflix while Barry settled comfortably against him. “Speaking of which, were you able to celebrate Passover?” Barry asked.

It’d been so long since he’d asked Hal about remote holidays. Barry pressed his nose against Hal’s skin and sunk into Hal’s warmth. 

Hal snorted. “Sort of. I acknowledged it, but I was in Vega and Tamaranean fare isn’t exactly kosher.” Hal paused and frowned. “I don’t think it’s kosher. Probably not, right? I don’t think I ate any hametz but fuck if I know for sure.”

“I take it you couldn’t tell?” Barry mused. He buried his snort in Hal’s shoulder when Hal selected a John Wayne flick. “Did they even try to explain what they were feeding you?” Barry asked.

“Yes, but Tamaraneans aren’t great at bridging cultural gaps,” Hal said. “They forget that not everyone picks up language and all of its nuance from skin contact alone. To be frank, our rings might be better translators if we hadn’t cut off the Vega system for so long.” 

The movie began, and Hal relaxed into Barry’s arms. 

Limbs entangled, they exchanged little nothings to each other over the sound of the movie, occasionally distracted by each other’s lips or hair or bodies. 

The next morning, Hal would leave again, and Barry would stay. But that burden was the morning’s to bear. 

In that moment, they were content.