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With a deliberately calming exhale, Hal donned his civilian clothing before walking out of the Metropolis alleyway.
A moment later, he cursed, "Fucking shit fuck!" as the cold prickled through his single layer of clothing and thin denim jacket. A passing mother sent him an aghast look as she clutched her child's hand tighter to her side.
"Give me a break," he argued, but she just hurried down the street, the slushy snow beneath her feet bursting. Hal ducked back into the alley to layer up with the suit under his clothes because it was damn cold in Metropolis in February, which no one deemed important enough to tell him despite his being from the coast on the other side of the country where things were considerably warmer this time of year.
As he trudged through the slush with the nonchalant Metropolitans, he was scowling for all of a minute before he remembered why he was here and who he was here for.
The scowl begrudgingly turned into a pout, before his face went a little red with heat rather than the biting cold.
It wasn't every day that Superman called him up. In fact, it was even rarer than every week. If Hal was being completely honest, it'd never actually happened before. He'd been chilling with Barry when Supes contacted him all casual-like, asking if he wouldn't mind being back-up when he went and investigated some evil-doer who got their hands on kryptonite or something. Hal didn't retain all of it, because he'd kind of been replaying the words Hey, Hal, since Kal said them in the first place.
Hal had played it cool and said he'd be there in ten rather than right away, and got one of those nice-sounding Superman Chuckles when he said he'd even bring lunch if Supes promised not to bring the cranky Bat along.
“That was Superman,” Hal said, smug, pushing himself off from the other's couch and cracking all his joints with a stretch.
Barry squinted. “Liar.”
“'t was,” said Hal, smug as a bug. “Needs my help, called me up specifically and everything.” He'd even sounded worried, all if it's not too much trouble, and Hal had almost cooed. “Isn't even bringing Batman along.”
Barry's face cleared up, then. “Ahh, right— Bats is out of commission, sprained his ankle or something. That explains it.”
Hal threw one of Iris's comfy couch pillows at him and left out the window with Barry's cackle echoing behind him.
The paper bag of subs he picked up from his favorite spot in Central was starting to tear a bit in his hands from how tightly he was gripping it. He shuffled a bit closer to the nearest skyscraper as he paused, trying to warm up his hands. The sky was cloudy, but the bright kind that meant that it'd probably snow again before evening hit. Even though it was clear of flying men, Hal could easily imagine Kal weaving his way through the towering buildings overhead as he fought Luthor or whatever stupid foe that though they could take on a Kryptonian who'd grown up determined to protect Earth from any evil.
With a scuff of his boot, Hal turned and caught sight of his reflection in the shimmering glass windows behind him. He fixed his hair a bit from where it'd gotten lightly mussed in the flight. His eyes re-focused and he caught sight of a little girl staring at him from the other side of the window.
She was snickering.
He scowled again, dismissing her with a wave of his hand as he kept on walking.
The building Superman requested they meet at was still a good walk's away, but Hal wanted a moment to collect his thoughts. Despite Barry's knowing looks following Superman's particularly heroic moments or friendly, dorky jokes, Hal wasn't completely gone on Kal— he didn't even know the guy's secret identity, for one, which sometimes annoyed him enough to ignore his good morning greetings at League meetings (though he usually caved because Superman's lost little look made everyone cave, alright, even Wonder Woman). On top of the secrets that burned a hole straight through his day tripping space fantasies, he also knew that Superman was in the weirdest on and off again thing with Lois Lane, who Oliver had informed him to be the craziest person he'd ever met, point-blank. Hal wasn't getting in the middle of that, even if sometimes Kal smiled and touched his shoulder and his chest would get all warm and he wanted to die a little bit when Kal removed his hand.
So, no, he wasn't pining— He was simply admiring from afar, and was also a close friend of the boy scout so of course he was willing to give up one of his rare free Fridays to help the guy, and— Whatever. There was evil to be fought, and Green Lantern had to help, big blue eyes and warm smile present or not. He was taking the long way about it because he needed to make sure he was in the right mindset, or something. Not because he was trying to calm his blush down.
Besides, Superman also requested he try to stay incognito to avoid alerting the evil-doer of Lantern's presence and give them time to amp up defenses for him. The man was so protective. Hal sighed, wistfully, before shaking it off as he finally arrived at the building.
The Daily Planet building was hard to miss even in this weather, given that the thing was like a beacon back to Earth from across the system. The globe seemed to perfectly encapsulate all of Metropolis — big, gold, and pristine. If he hadn't heard all of Superman's war stories about the criminal element, he'd wonder why any capes took station there at all.
He supposed the globe did do well at representing Lex Luthor's bald head, who was the usual suspect behind Supes's issues and also representative of the shining capital of the world. Hal should flick him a big green middle finger one of these days. Or flick him with it, right off the Planet's globe.
Snickering evilly at the thought, the only buzzkill of the idea was the disappointed look Superman would probably have across his face. Batman would probably be lecturing, too, the killjoy. Hal would just have to defend himself, all over Lex Luthor, just waiting like an idiot for Kal to consider him as something more than the team loud mouth or reckless member that flicks bald billionaires off buildings.
Once again disappointed with the reality of things compared to his fantasies, Hal sulked inside the building. It was a busy place, which meant it was sort of easy to sneak right on to the elevators. He'd take the stairs up to the roof, but flying around kinda makes a guy resent walking a million flights when he could just take the lift.
There's a little old lady and a harassed-looking intern in there— the kid's eyeing up his subs so Hal sends her a little glare and she huffed like he was a spoilsport or something. She gets off first, second floor, just as a guy walks on, the two of them sharing a smile and a nod.
At first glance, Hal doesn't really spare him a thought. It's second nature, really, to size people up, but sometimes people are just so nonthreatening they go past the radar without a blip. But then the old lady beamed at him from across the elevator, chirping, "Hello, Clark."
Hal gave him another glance, startling a bit when he realized the guy was staring at him. The guy quickly looked away, past Hal to smile at the old lady. "Hello, Mrs. Perez."
"How are you?"
For some reason, the guy sent a nervous little look at Hal. Hal raised his eyebrows at him, which made his cheeks go a little pink as he averted his gaze. "I'm— Well, thank you. How're you and the boys?"
The old lady tittered and started talking fondly about what sounded like two little brats, so Hal took the opportunity to eye up the other guy.
With a more concentrated assessment, Hal reevaluated his initial dismissal. Not because he seemed threatening, but because he seemed kind of stealthily hot. After Hal assessed someone's menace, he assessed their attractiveness, and this guy almost escaped his notice despite being quietly— beautiful, for a lack of a better term, because the guy was really handsome but in a way that was kind of stunning. He wore astonishingly ill-fitting clothes, had a coffee stain on his tie that would make Oliver cringe, and his dark hair was an absolute mess atop his head, but he was beautiful behind the big black frames and in the soft curves of his shoulders. Hal's mouth felt a bit dry just looking at him.
"—and so I told him— oh, dear, that's my floor. Clark?"
Hal stopped staring at Clark's chest (his pecs were straining under the fabric, what the hell) to look up at his face, where Clark was already staring back at him, eyes widened a bit. Hal smirked, and Clark visibly swallowed.
"Clark?" Mrs. Perez kind of sounded amused as she began exiting the elevator.
Clark jolted into action, offering assistance via elbow, though she waved him off, eyes glittering. She muttered something in Spanish that Hal didn't quite catch because now he could see this guy's ass game and it was insane— like vigilante-level insane ass game.
Then the doors closed and they were alone.
The elevator jolted into motion and Clark jumped and flung himself to the wall of the elevator like someone had thrown him back. His hands looked so big as they wrapped around the elevator rail, and Hal took a deep breath, counted to three in his head, and leaned against the opposite wall, arching what he knows to be an attractive eyebrow.
"Where are we headed?" So smooth.
Clark's lips parted, seemingly speechless. "Uhh— Hh?"
This jacket always worked, Hal cheered internally. He gave a little nod to the buttons on the wall next to him. "Going up, right?" He bit his tongue on a 'going down' joke, because Clark seemed like he was barely handling the most surface-level flirting here.
Luckily, Hal had twenty-three more floors to go to convince him that they need to get drinks and touch each other. Like, yesterday.
The guy brought a hand up to the back of his neck and scratched, almost bashfully. "Yeah, I— Twenty-second."
Hal pressed the button, then leaned against the wall in a leisurely slouch. He had spotted the Daily Planet reporter badge early on, but was more obvious in catching it now. "You a journalist, Mr... Kent?"
Kent was gripping the rail behind him with both hands now, staring at Hal like there was an upcoming quiz on the subject of him and he already knew he was gonna fail it. Hal almost preened.
"Yeah." He squirmed a bit. "And— You? What are you doing... here."
Hal's smile broadened, fully aware that a killer dimple was making its way into his left cheek now. "Talking to you, of course."
"Oh." Clark's cheeks were really red, and he was stammering, "Right, so I— You— We—"
Hal took pity on the poor guy. "It's Hal."
Clark blinked, and his eyelashes were very long. Hal doesn't think he's ever grown enamored with anyone's face as quickly as he has with this guy. "You..."
"Well, it's Harold, but if you call me that, I can't promise I'll stay on this elevator ride with you for anything longer than ten more floors," continued Hal, tilting his head to the side and grinning, trying his best to let Clark know he doesn't bite. Yet.
Clark was regarding him carefully, face still flushed but he finally seemed to be drawing himself together. "You're going to the top floor, though," he pointed out, cautious. "Wouldn't that be a pain to have to hike up all those stairs?"
Hal shrugged. "I've put myself through worse for pettier reasons."
A surprised little laugh, and Hal felt his chest go unexpectedly warm at the way it filled the small space. "Oh?" Clark huffed, still tentative but less so. "Sounds like a story or two's there."
"Now, put that pen away, Mr. Kent," Hal reprimanded. "No stories there that you can write, not without breaking a bunch of non-disclosure agreements."
Another laugh, nice and loud, and Clark's eyes brightening. "I've dealt with worse for what I'm sure are less interesting stories," he replied, wry.
Hal was a bit dazed by his laugh. "Oh?"
"Lex Luthor gets really mad when you investigate him in any capacity, including when he secretly got really interested in collecting Justice League figurines."
It was Hal's turn to laugh, then, surprised and the flush from his chest rising up to the tips of his ears.
"You never told me what you're actually doing here," Clark reminded, some of the tension finally leaving those broad shoulders.
Fuck. “I'm a, uh.” Hal cast a furtive look around the elevator for an idea, only to remember the bag of subs in his grip. “A delivery guy.” Fuck, fuck, Kent was screwing up his game. "See?" He was gesturing with the bag in his hands now, ridiculous.
The other man looked at him, with something like amusement dancing in the depth of his eyes. “Long trip for a sandwich.”
Hal glanced back at the bag, which read Central City Subs.
“I'm also a pilot,” he added, feeling so very much cooler after doing so.
"Mhm," said Clark, and now that he'd relaxed a little, a small smile curling up into those cheeks that had a lingering darkened tinge, he was even more unbearably attractive. And he was flirting back. "Hal, I—"
He was interrupted by the doors beginning to open, and Hal cursed the evil person on the other side— he dropped the subs and slammed a hand down on the 'doors close' button. He smiled brightly at the confused man on the other side. "Elevator maintenance, so sorry about this, you'll have to get another ride."
Ignoring the protests that were soon muffled by the doors closing, Hal hovered closer to Clark as the elevator went back in motion. Clark was watching him, amusement definitely winning out over the anxiety and bashfulness.
Hal would take a moment to appreciate how soft the look in his eyes was but they were rapidly running out of floors. "So, are you gonna say yes when I ask you out now?" he asked, sending a paranoid look at the floor number rising higher.
Clark reddened again, but, after a moment, said, "Depends."
"On what?" Hal complained, but an involuntary smile was already overwhelming his expression.
Clark's smile was both shy and cheeky. "Are you gonna say yes when I ask for your number?"
Hal's smile made his cheeks ache. "Well, if you're gonna pull my arm off about it." He put a hand out and Clark pulled out his phone and brought up the contacts app. The homescreen was what appeared to be him and his mother on a farm, which was unbearably endearing.
Hal quickly entered his information ('Sexy Elevator Guy. HAL, Not The Other One') and gave it back to Clark, feeling his heart skip a beat when Clark immediately typed something and his phone buzzed in his back pocket, assuring Clark's interest. Clark looked up at the buzz, or maybe something else that emanated from Hal, who felt a bit silly because he'd seemed to sway closer and closer to Clark.
But Clark didn't move away. He was still smiling, but it was terribly soft now.
Hal wanted to kiss him so badly and they'd only known each for the duration of an elevator ride. Barry was never gonna stop making fun of him for this.
The elevator stopped. "That's me," murmured Clark.
Hal swayed just a bit closer, before taking a step back. He couldn't help it— Clark looked brilliant when he was flustered.
"That's you," he echoed, a bit nonsensically, but Clark laughed anyway, and it was kind of awesome.
"See you around, delivery guy Hal," Clark said, sliding past him to exit. His movements were slow, reluctant.
"Hey, hey, I'm also a pilot," Hal protested.
Clark smiled, all cheekiness and beautifulness. "I suppose we all have our day jobs," he said, and then the elevator doors closed and Hal was left to look at the pathetic look on his face in the reflection of the shiny doors.
Then he pumped his fist in the air, letting out a loud whoop as he did a victory leap. He narrowly avoided braining himself on the elevator ceiling but nothing was taking him down from his high— not even the thought of Superman up on the roof, waiting for him with a painfully patient expression across his face.
The top floor was the busiest, of course, which made it easy for Hal to slip past everyone to get to the roof access door, even with the stupid grin plastered across his face. He took the stairs three at a time and his cheerfulness only grew stronger when he reached the roof and realized the place was empty. He'd beaten Kal and now he could gloat about it forever.
Things were looking up, Hal thought gleefully as he settled down in full uniform, pulling a sub out of his bag. His days of pining after Superman were behind him — he's got a date with Clark Kent, after all.