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Don't Throw Me Away

Summary:

Hal wasn't blind, he noticed how much Clark made Bruce smile.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Hal wasn’t stupid, but he was a very good actor.

So when Bruce’s glances started sliding more and more towards the newly-single Superman – at every meeting – Hal pretended he didn’t notice. Every look, every subtle head-tilt and twitch of the lips, every smile that Clark pulled out with such ease, when Hal had taken much too long to learn….

Bruce’s hand passed over the small of his back as he joined him at the window, looking down on the marble that was Earth. “I was thinking we could stop for dinner on the way home.” His lips twitched, but he did not smile. “I could use a break from the kids.”

Hal’s heart clenched. Well, then, if that’s how it was – If Bruce was gonna do it, he just wouldn’t let him. “Nah,” he said, turning on his heel, “I’m tired.”

“Are you injured?” Bruce asked, using his professionally distant voice, and wow, it had been a long time since that was directed at him.

He shrugged. “Bumps and bruises. I have work in the morning, though, so I’m going to crash in Coast tonight.”

It wasn’t a lie.

Bruce frowned, but nodded. “Remember you’re taking Damian to that baseball game tomorrow.”

“Yeah.” Hal rubbed the back of his neck. “I know what I promised.” No matter how bad things got between the two of them, he would never make the kids suffer for it.

Bruce leaned in for a kiss, but Hal flew into the air.

“Better get started on those eight hours,” he said, before flying down to Earth.

Bruce wasn’t stupid, either. He’d find a way, but if he started now, he could make it hurt less when it happened.

The next day, Hal left work early, showing up to the manor in that narrow window where Damian was home from school and Bruce was still at his office. “You ready, Pits’l?” he asked, ruffling his hair.

Damian glared at him for the nickname, but they both knew there was no venom in it. “You’re early,” he tutted, fixing his hair.

“You wanna be first in line, don’t you?”

Damian gave him a strange glance, then nodded. “Yes, of course, allow me to change out of my uniform.” He dashed upstairs with a speed that belied his indifference.

“Master Damian is a smart young lad.”

Hal nearly jumped into the air. He loved Alfred – who didn’t? – but he could be more sneaky than Bruce himself at times.

The butler smiled gently. “You’ll have to forgive Master Bruce, it is in his nature to distance himself before taking a leap, though I do wish he’d be more delicate going about it.”

Hal laughed through his pain. “Delicate isn’t his strong suit.”

“Indeed not. Would you like me to drive you?”

Hal shook his head. “Nah, we’ll take my bike.” It was an open secret that Damian both craved physical affection and was equally repulsed by the very idea of it. Taking the motorcycle would give him a good excuse.

“As you wish, sir.” Alfred dropped the keys in his hand. “Do enjoy yourself.”

Hal had the best day of his life, and he tried his damnedest to make it the best of Damian’s as well. If this was going to be one of their last times together, it was going to be a good one. And though that thought made it all bittersweet, he could work with that.

At least until they were walking back in the darkened parking lot and Damian almost shyly asked “Are you and Father fighting?”

Hal dropped his keys and considered saying “no” as he bent down to pick them up, but Damian was smarter than that. “I don’t know,” he said instead, and wasn’t that the truth.

Damian pursed his lips and nodded, then slipped his hand in Hal’s and looked pointedly away, daring him to mention it.

Hal just squeezed back.

Bruce was home when they arrived, and Hal couldn’t not accept Alfred’s invitation for tea and cookies, so he came face-to-face with his boyfriend much sooner than he’d hoped.

“Can we talk?” Bruce asked.

Hal shrugged, Alfred had left to finish something elsewhere, but Tim and Cassandra were there, at least. Bruce wouldn’t break up with him where the kids could hear.

“Alone?”

“No.” He refused. He refused to let Bruce throw him away now that he could get what he really wanted.

Tim and Cass looked up at that and made themselves scarce.

Hal cursed their sensitivity to their father’s moods.

Bruce reached for his hand, and fine, he could let himself have that, could let him rub comforting circles over his knuckles to soften the blow. “What did I do wrong?” Bruce whispered.

Oh, and if that wasn’t the straw that broke the camel’s back…. Hal yanked his hand away. “I’m not as blind as you think I am, Bruce!” he snapped, only half aware he was yelling. He sighed and scrubbed his hands down his face. “Let me save you the trouble, okay? I’ll go pack my things. And don’t worry, I remember, I won’t hurt the kids.”

“What are you talking about?” Bruce demanded. “If you’re not blind, then….”

“Then what, Bruce?”

“Then why can’t you see what I’m trying to do here.”

“And what is that?”

“I’m trying to propose, goddammit!”

Hal stared at him, gut roiling with he-didn’t-know-what. “Yeah, well, I hope Clark says yes. You both deserve to be happy.”

Bruce recoiled in shock. “Clark? You think I want to propose to Clark?!”

Hal shrugged. “Yeah, why not? Everyone knows you love him, but he was with Lois, so you had to settle for me. Well, he’s not with Lois anymore, and I see the way you two act around each other now. Knowing little smiles, just the two of you against the world….” He tried to smile. “It’s okay, Bruce.”

“No, it’s not,” Bruce growled, grabbing him and slamming him into the wall like he hadn’t since the night they met.

Hal felt his breath quicken.

“Listen,” Bruce said, backing off a touch, rubbing his shoulders. “I had the equivalent of a school crush on Superman, but, yes, he was with Lois, so I got over him, and then once I was sure I was over him completely, then I fell in love with you.” He leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together briefly. “I love you.”

Hal was trembling now, he’d fallen too hard, let himself get reeled in. “But he makes you smile.”

Bruce shook his head. “I can only assume you’re referring to the last week or so. Yes, Clark was giving me not-so-subtle knowing glances, I wanted to take his head off for that, and now more than ever, but I was too busy grinning like a fool over what was going to happen later last night. You see, the reason Clark was giving me those looks was because I asked him to switch monitor shifts with me so I could take you to the reservation I made at the restaurant where we had our first date, so I could do this.” He knelt down on one knee and took a box out of his pocket, opening it to reveal a simple band. “Harold Martin Jordan, you challenge me in ways I could never dream of, you make me a better man, and my children love you. Would you do me the honor of becoming my husband?”

Hal stared, suddenly aware that they had attracted an audience. He passed a hand over his face, wiping away the tears he hadn’t even known were there. “Our first date was crashed when Sinestro – my ex-boyfriend – came charging in asking me to be the second-in-command of his Yellow Lantern Corps before proceeding to destroy half the entire city. And you thought it would be romantic to propose there?”

Bruce opened his mouth to defend himself, then shut it immediately, looking uncomfortable.

Hal laughed and tugged him close. “Yes.”

Bruce embraced him wholeheartedly before pulling away to slip the ring on his finger.

Dick whooped.

Damian scowled, then turned and stalked toward the Cave. “Superman dies tonight.”

“No!” Bruce and Hal lunged for their son.

Notes:

Pits’l - Yiddish endearment, kind of like "Little Bit"

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