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“No,” says Hal, staring at the series of metal rings protruding outwards from Wayne tower. “That’s not true. You kids are trying to kill me.”
“It’s the truth,” says Jason, smirking and leaning on his heels. “Bruce does pull-ups from here.”
“You can fly,” says Damian. “If we were trying to kill you, we’d put poison in your food. Or something. Hypothetically.”
Cass just nods. She’s already perched on top of one of the rings, the 103-story drop apparently not fazing her in the slightest.
“If you really want to beat Bruce, you have to do it without the ring,” says Jason. “Fear of death is an integral part of the workout.”
Hal grits his teeth and tries hard not to scowl. Spend a day with my kids, said Bruce. It will be fun, said Bruce. They won’t throw any weaponry at you, I promise said Bruce. Hal would pay for a normal day of Damian’s throwing stars right now.
“The ring is staying with me.”
Jason raises his eyebrows and tries to look both innocent and offended. It’s a look that must have worked brilliantly on him when he was fifteen, but is less effective now he’s nearly the same height and build as Hal. “I wasn’t going to suggest you leave it with me, jeez. Leave it with Cass.”
“Cass might have the willpower to actually work it and fly away.”
They all look at Cass expectantly. She shrugs. “Probably.”
“So are you going to do it?” says Damian. “Or are you going to pussy out?”
“Damian! Don’t use language like that.”
“Sorry, Hal. Are you going to wuss out?”
He sighs, strips off his jacket and throws it to Jason. “Fine. Don’t steal anything from me while I’m gone.”
“Sure,” says Jason. “I’m gonna go wild with the two dollars and the packet of eight-month-old Jolly Ranchers in your pocket. Fuck’s sake, Hal, even your pockets are sad.”
“Whatever,” Hal says, gripping tight to the first ring. “Let’s do this.”
“Green Lantern seen zipping past Wayne Tower,” Bruce intones, reading from supergothamwatch.com. “ ‘At first the Lantern seemed to be in some kind of freefall from the tower, but then he turned back up so fast that he caused two windows on the second floor to shatter. It is not clear at the time which supervillain he was fighting.’ Do you think I should call in with an anonymous tip that he was defending his masculinity from the barbs of an 11 year old boy?”
Hal winces and rubs his hands together, trying to lessen the friction burn. It doesn’t work. “Look, it’s not my fault. Jason made some off-colour comment about me not being to keep up with the ‘workout you put me through’, and then I said that I was in the air force and I was sure I could keep up with whatever Batman devised, and then they made up this ridiculous story about you doing pull-ups off – “ Bruce raises an eyebrow. “Holy shit. Holy shit, you actually do it, don’t you? You insane motherfucker. What if you fall?”
“I’m not going to fall. I’m Batman.”
“You’re just lucky Steph and Tim weren’t there.”
“What? I thought Steph and Tim were the nice ones.”
Bruce makes a motion with his face that could be an amused smile. It doesn’t bring Hal a great deal of comfort.
“You’re kids hate me,” he wails, draping himself over the edge of Bruce’s chair.
“That’s not true. They actually find you rather amusing.”
“Not helping.”
Bruce turns and kisses him. It’s not a placating kiss, it’s not chaste in any way. This is the way Bruce kisses him when he needs him, his hand wrapped around Hal’s jaw, his mouth hot and unsure and demanding like he’s unsure whether he’s ordering Hal or begging him. The first time Bruce kissed him like this, Hal knew Bruce was in love with him. It didn’t matter, in the end, that they took a further six months to say it to each other. Hal knew.
They pull away. Bruce pushes his mouth into Hal’s neck and kisses him lightly just behind his ear.
“Just so you know, Hal, I’ve always found you perfectly up to any workout I might put you through.”
“Is that so.”
“Mmm.”
“Because I feel like you haven’t shown me your really punishing routines.”
“And I will, I promise. But first you and I have something else to attend to.”
“Is it that drug cartel you think Clayface was working for?”
“Nothing that easy, I’m afraid. I actually promised Alfred a family board-game night, and I promised that you would be in attendance.”
Hal covers his face and tries not to groan. “Dead. This family wants me dead.”