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Bruised ribs, dislocated shoulder, maybe a concussion--not bad for the aftermath of wrestling a monkey-rock-lizard thing the size of a barn. His shielding took most of the beating, but the fact that anything went through the barrier at all said a lot about that alien species' strength. Also said a lot about how that mission went.
Hal already dreaded handing in his report. Not to Oa-- that was done via Lantern ring as soon as he was conscious and (almost) coherent. No, what he didn't look forward to was telling the Batman he fudged up a recon mission, even with Superman as backup. It wasn't a collossal failure, mind you, but Batman.
Unless of course Clark already managed a debriefing on account of his teammate being unconscious. He hadn't been out for that long, maybe. Hal was definitely blacking out as they closed in on the Watchtower, and it couldn't have taken that long to patch up his pathetic injuries and dump him in the med bay. He really hoped the boyscout did him that favor.
Pity he couldn't ask. Not even Clark was in the room with him. Maybe the guy was in a meeting?
Hal had only begun to glance around at the empty beds when the door slid open.
"Hey, Bats." He raised a hand. "I'd sit up, but I'd really rather just keep weight off my ribs and I can't reach the damn--Oh, thanks."
It was painfully quiet as the bed slowly folded up. Even sitting up, he didn't feel any better being at the end of Batman's unreadable gaze, white lenses or no. Over the years he'd learned to read things off that stony jaw, but apparently Spooky had also learned to confuse him. But only if he tried harder than usual. Hal didn't think that was even possible.
"There's another switch behind your pillow."
"Really? Why didn't anyone tell me that? That's a pretty inconvenient place for it. What if I couldn't get my arms up there?"
"I'll let the techs know. Hal. About today, Clark told me what happened."
Not 'Superman' and not a report. So this wasn't a 'you disappoint me, Lantern' talk. Still, Batman sounded strained. Hal braced himself for the last two possibilities.
"I know it didn't go as planned, but I did get the info I needed and both of us are fine."
Batman didn't seem to hear him. "You entered the planet without him. I distinctly remember that you asked him there for your protection."
Hal coughed out a laugh. "Protection? He wasn't my chaperone, he was back up. And that's what he did. The planet's sentient species don't like outsiders--I had a hard enough time getting in there as a Green Lantern."
"It's the same planet you suspected--correctly-- that smuggles aurem weapons. They could have very well used their arsenal on you."
"And they didn't--morons, right?--and I called Clark in and we got out."
A twitch in that hard-edged jaw. "This is the kind of arrogant, careless stunt I'd have expected from you five years ago, not--"
"Hey--" He could hear the crack in that voice now. Something he thought only he and Clark ever heard.
"I don't care how the Corps directs your missions. If you involve the League you stick to orders--"
If he let Bruce keep going like that, he'd probably get a suspension or something. And then he'd have to deal with Bruce's guilt over having said something he shouldn't have. So Hal bent forward, ignoring the sharp pain in his side (maybe he needed more painkillers) and tugged Bruce toward him. With the guy's bulk, though, it was more of pulling himself up, and then he pressed his lips just at the corner of Bruce's mouth.
The kiss immediately shut the other guy up, but Hal kept at it. Just that gentle touch, moving over Bruce's lips and feeling Bruce's warm breath, his hand at Bruce's nape. Not many moments later he felt his lover kiss back. He took this as a sign to pull the cowl back, because he wanted to see those blue eyes.
Predictably those eyes watched him as if afraid Hal'd disappear if they blinked. He smiled in the kiss and actually pulled Bruce onto the bed with him. Bruce just silently went along with the movement.
Gentle sometimes quickly led to impatient and desperate with the two of them, but Hal kept it slow. He let the wonder and need in Bruce's wandering touch drag out. He let those fingers rub his old scars as much as they wanted. Let those rough palms brush his face as much as they needed.
In the end only Bruce got off (quickly and quietly, once they got to that), and he shook his head when hands went to his waistband. Instead he kept Bruce tucked beside him and dotted that open face with kisses.
Hal was guessing the talk with Clark went less like a post-ops and more like the big guy rattling off in guilt about all his mistakes and not explaining that Hal was fine. As Hal lay unconscious for several minutes. With Bruce standing there. He could already imagine Clark stopping and noticing all those little things only someone with super senses could. 'Oh god. He's fine--Bruce, he's fine.' Hal didn't have to dye Clark's underwear neon green, if that was the case.
There was a mumur muffled on his shoulder. "You're still an idiot, Lantern."
Hal let out a whoof of a laugh. "Yeah, keep talking dirty to me."