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“You’re having a gay panic,” says Hal.
Guy rolls his eyes over his pint and flips him off. “Stop running your fucking mouth off, Jordan. You got no idea what you’re on about.”
“Uh huh. Ok, no gay panic. You’re just casually checking out that girl at the bar in the incredibly tight jeans every five minutes, looking up and remembering it’s a guy and then chugging the rest of your drink like beer’s going out of fashion.”
“I am not checking he- him out.”
“You should ask for his number.”
“No.” He swallowed anther mouthful of beer. “And it’s perfectly forgivable, ok? Those jeans did not come from the Men’s side of any department store.”
“Skinnies are in. Oh, heads up.”
Guy turns, and the guy ducks his head and blushes. He’s got trendy stubble and just-dishevelled-enough clothes. There’s a smudge of brilliant green paint across his knuckles. He looks back at Hal.
“Even if he was checking me out – “
“Which he was.”
“And even if I was checking him out – “
“Which you are.”
“And even if I was drunk enough to pursue this – “
“Which you will be, baby, you will be.”
“He’s trendy. And hell, I’m a great piece of ass, but I’m not trendy. I doubt we’re going to have much to talk about.”
Hal smiles. “Just buy him a drink. See what happens.”
*
The ally is cold but Kyle’s breath is hot and shuddery against his neck and his hands are warm in his hair, under his shirt, sliding under his waistband. Guy moves his lips against his forehead in half-kisses and he isn’t sure what he’s doing, isn’t sure if he wants to back away or take this back to his apartment, isn’t sure if he owes Hal a beer or a kick in the teeth but he’ll take this while it lasts.
*
When he wakes up, there’s an arm flung lazily over him and a smell of something musky and new in his bed. He turns and gets a face full of black hair.
Well.
He reaches across and down for an early morning grope – because the day he doesn’t spectacularly push his luck is the day he’s no longer known as Guy Gardner – and
Oh. That’s new.
Kyle shifts under him and pushes his head up from under the covers, eyes screwed up against the sunlight, which would be hilarious if he didn’t look in so much pain.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
Kyle tilts his head into the pillow. “You’re grabbing my ass.”
“And no one is more surprised by that than me.”
“Oh. Oh yeah. The straight guy. I remember.” He starts to pull away and Guy notes with surprise that he’d much rather he didn’t.
“Um. Apparently not. Do you want breakfast?”
*
Hal won’t stop being smug – he never really stops looking smug, but smugger than usual – so Guy’s going to ignore him. He doesn’t even know how Jordan and Carol ended up in the same coffee bar as him anyway. Jordan’s probably stalking him just to ruin his date. Not date. Maybe date.
It’s date number five, and Guy’s fairly sure there’s meant to be a rule about date number five, but maybe that only applies when you’re dating girls. And they have already slept together. And he wouldn’t be Guy Gardner if he didn’t push his luck.
But he doesn’t want to push his luck with Kyle. He wants to sit in this nice cafe with him while he orders something so confusing the barista looks momentarily lost and listen to his stories about his dumb art school friends and make him laugh with equally dumb stories from his life and maybe look at him in his very very tight jeans whenever he gets up.
“Hey,” says Kyle, because fate hates him, “isn’t that your friend from the bar?”
“Ugh, yeah. How do you even remember him? You were, you know – “
“Fucking gazeboed.”
“That a technical term?”
“Art school does things to a man, ok? He’s waving at you.”
And he is, lazily waggling the fingers of the arm that’s draped over Carol, beer in the other hand, watching them like some kind of proud papa bear.
Guy leans across the table, managing to casually rest his hand on Kyle’s forearm. “He’s creeping me out. You want to get out of here?”
Kyle smiles. “I thought you’d never ask.”
They walk along the sea front, and Guy almost puts his arm around him. Almost. He’s still Guy Gardner, Jesus. He’s saved by Kyle leaning over and taking his arm in his.
“Sooo, Guy.”
“Kyle.”
“Are we going to discuss the elephant in the room?”
“I know I’m impressive, Kyle, but it’s not that large.” They pause just for a second while Kyle laughs and rolls his eyes, and he tries to keep a silly grin off his face because he laughs at his jokes. Even Hal just sort of groans and buys him another beer.
“No but really,” says Kyle, pushing his hair back from his face. “You know. You did kind of consider yourself straight before the bar. I distinctly remember you telling me so. I think you even issued it as a challenge. So I just kind of want to clear up – are we hanging out as some kind of odd-couple friendship kind of thing, or are we hanging out in a way that could eventually make us an odd couple.”
“Emphasis on couple.”
“I’m really glad that sentence made sense to you because after I said it I realised it was garbled nonsense masquerading as a pithy comment.”
Guy smiles and leans in just enough to brush a kiss across Kyle’s temple. “Yes. This is a date.”
“Really?”
“I wasn’t sure but now I am.”
Kyle smiles, and then his grin turns wicked and he stops and pulls Guy close. “Good. Because I think there’s kind of a rule about the fifth date.”
*
“Don’t get me wrong,” says Hal. “I love your boyfriend. That came out wrong. I like Kyle a lot, and I am super proud that I helped set up your relationship.”
Guy opens the fridge, hoping to find something that will shut Hal up. There’s nothing but a mournful plate of cheese. He knows how it feels.
“But could you maybe tell him to put some clothes on while he’s painting?”
“Maybe you should stop breaking in.”
“I’m not breaking in. I just know where your spare key is.”
“It counts. Kyle?”
Kyle pokes his head in from the living room. He’s now wearing a pair of sweatpants, but from the waist up he’s wearing nothing but a new paint splatters and Guy wants to drag him upstairs and trace the contours of them with his fingertips.
“Did Hal break in?”
“Uh yeah. Kind of. Hi, Hal.”
“Hi.”
“Sorry about – “
“Forget it.”
Kyle grins and disappears back into the living room. There’s a paintbrush tucked behind his ear and his hair is splattered with cerulean blue. Guy is all kinds of pussy-whipped (ass-whipped? Ew) because he both knows the exact shade and he finds that dumb paint stain sexy.
“So is he living here?” asks Hal.
“No. We just – he ends up here all the time because he’s got his roommates and I live on my own. I mean, Alex is lovely but privacy’s kind of nice, you know? But it’s just him spending the nights here.”
“He’s here now. It’s not the night.”
“Yeah, well, he’s going to come back tonight, so why not just stay?” Hal laughs condescendingly. “What?”
“Guy, what room is the room Kyle’s currently in?”
“My living room.”
“No, Guy. It’s his studio. He told me so.”
“He needs somewhere to work while he’s here.”
“Is his stuff here?”
“…. Some of it.”
“His laptop? His phone charger? His tooth brush?” He raises a glass. “Congratulations, Guy Gardner. Your boyfriend just moved in and you didn’t even realise.”
*
After sex, Kyle curls into him and just breaths. It’s the most contented sound he thinks he’s ever heard. It sounds like someone who’s just found where they fit.
“Me too, kid,” he says, and feels his laugh flutter across his chest.
“You know,” says Kyle, mouth still pressed into Guy’s skin, “the first few weeks, I was almost afraid to touch you. I kept on thinking I’d freak you out.”
“Meh. I fell in love with a man. Weirder things have happened. I tend to roll with it.”
Kyle peers up at him under bedroom-messy hair, bites his lip and smiles and he knows for a fact he’s never seen anything he wants more. He moves his hand from the curve of his spine, skimming his palm across the planes of muscle of his back and up to his face to trace the outline of his mouth with his thumb.
“You know,” says Kyle, tongue flicking out to catch his skin, “you kind of just told me you loved me.”
“Yeeaaah. I was kind of hoping I’d get away with that. Figured I’d just start slipping it in. Heh. Since I’d already started slipping it in.”
“A genuine moment of heartfelt emotion nearly ruined by an over laboured innuendo. Did you go to the Hal Jordan school of confessing your true feelings?”
“When has Hal Jordan been confessing feelings to you?”
“I get coffee with Carol on Thursdays. We discuss you in great detail.”
He smiles and tucks his head back into his shoulder, and Guy lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. He’s so busy being relieved it wasn’t a complete disaster that he almost doesn’t notice when Kyle moves his head until he’s kissing the shell of his ear.
“You know I love you too, Guy Gardner, don’t you?”
No, he hadn’t known that at all. But he turns to Kyle and smiles into his mouth anyway.
*
Guy wakes up Hal by throwing open the curtains. He’s fairly sure from Hal’s reaction that what he just did would be counted by several people as a war crime, but the man had sex in his kitchen. With someone who was not Carol. Which just goes against all their rules.
“Kyle and I are getting married,” he announces.”
Hal raises a hand to cover his eyes. “Jesus, buddy, today? Because I don’t think I’m going to be able to make it.”
“Nope. Roughly six months time when he’s finished his course. Also Carol is coming so please don’t be in the middle of a painful break-up when it happens.”
“We’ve already broken up.” He raises an eyebrow and Hal sighs. “Yes, I know. Hey, can you give me five minutes to find an aspirin and my pants so I can start being properly happy for you guys?”
Guy leaves him cursing and sniffling in the living room and finds Kyle on the balcony, gulping down coffee like a true addict. He wraps his arms around his chest.
“So I told my mom,” says Kyle. “She wants to meet you. “
“I told – I told Hal.” He buries his face in his shoulder and feels a kiss brush across his cheek.
“It’s ok. You don’t want your family to be there, they won’t be there. How did Hal react?”
“He’s still putting his pants on. You know what he’s going to ask, don’t you?”
“Who’s wearing the dress. Of course.”
“By the way, it would totally be you.”
“Are you kidding? I’ve been planning my wedding since I was eight years old. Of course it’s going to be me.”
Guy laughs and spins him, pressing him up against the railings. Kyle’s warm and laughing under his hands as he skims his fingertips across his back, hooks them through his belt loops and tugs him in for a kiss.
“You’re going to be a great husband,” he murmurs against his mouth.
“I know,” says Kyle, “though I can’t cook for shit.”
“Oh Jesus. The pasta.”
“The pasta.”
“I love you, you dumb munchkin.”
“I love you too. Now let’s go and make engagement pancakes.”
