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The first time Hal came to one of Bruce Wayne's famous galas, getting tugged along by a pretty blonde at his wrist, sporting one of those goofy smiles on his face he reserves for his civilian lifestyle and especially when in a flirty environment... Bruce recognized him immediately despite never having disclosed their identities. Not only did Hal seem to stick out of the crowd because of a cheaper tan suit and with a haircut a little too unruly for this occasion, copper/brown locks hanging sharply off his forehead, but Bruce simply noticed it was Hal by his smile, of all things.
Green Lantern has one of those smiles that can stop you in your tracks, no matter how teasing said smile can be— even someone as stoic and perhaps even as apathetic as Batman can be noticed how Hal can do such a thing with just a mere grin, even when its obvious he himself can be oblivious to his impact unless when trying to flirt. Hal considerably doesn't flirt when within the Justice League, or maybe more accurately, he doesn't flirt seriously with the goal to get bedded, especially with Bruce. Barry sometimes get the chance to see Hal's overly flirty behavior, occasionally even Clark, and while Batman can see it happening as an outsider, he's never on the receiving end of it.
Which is fine. It's no bother how Hal can smile his way into getting what he wants, its no matter how his laugh is equally snotty and beautiful sounding, no matter how his eyes crinkles at their edges when smiling. No matter how those teeth can easily turn into a snarl, canines gleaming against whatever light source and turning brittle with rage, especially whenever aimed at the Batman— and Bruce knows this, acknowledges it if not a little begrudgingly, because he does bring out he worst in Hal. He does make him growl and defensive. It just seems like whenever they are near somehow Batman urges out Hal's own set of negative emotions, even when Bruce actively tries not to poke and prod or generally be invasive. He does try to keep his head on, his voice a more gentle roll than an aggressive tone, but he can't deny the frustration that comes up with Hal either. He's not even necessarily sure why he's so upset too, at least not always. Sometimes it is plainly obvious why he's angry— Hal doesn't listen to the mission plan, he risks himself too much, he's just annoying to Batman's nonchalance. Other times, most times, it's not so simple for reasons even Bruce can't articulate.
But now, as the party swings around them in silks and whitened dresses, Bruce has this strange feeling of yearning. Yearning to be on the other end of Hal's happy smiles, yearning to be anything other than who they are when together. He remembers vividly gazing over a woman's shoulder, her pearl necklace and iridescent eyeshadow lost to blurs as Bruce longingly stared at Hal, and feeling suddenly alone.
It's not necessarily a feeling Bruce is used to, at least not when Hal is involved. He is used to feeling lonely he supposes, is used to that deep sadness of being alone in an empty Manor with no one but Alfred and even then, the Cave is sunken by grief— grief of his parents, grief of simply being Batman. Still, it's not something he looks to in others, especially in the Justice League. He's here to do work, to keep Gotham and in extension, the planet, at a safe level of carefully constructed security, not here to mingle. He's not even here to linger either, not after mission reports nor monthly checkups in the med bay, and especially not at monitor duty when it seems whoever he's with tries to collapse his social walls. However, as much as it is his normal to keep distance and not really interact with the other members outside of mission plans, Bruce can at the very least admit he does yearn for more. Hal Jordan though? That was a surprising addition.
When the end of the evening came, when Hal left the chamber of the party with that blonde woman obviously to do suggestive themes that Bruce Wayne is usually associated with, instead, Bruce left alone. He made sure the party was well organized in its ending before departing back to Wayne Manor in a shiny Aston Martin, leather interior under his fingertips smooth yet with a melancholy sensation to them, and immediately descended to the Cave without hardly a word to Alfred. The Cave's lighting seemed brittle as it illuminated the computer and keys, stagnant in its loneliness. It was too easy for Bruce to piece together who Hal Jordan actually was outside of Green Lantern though. In fact, entirely too easy and making the Batman side of him question certain privacy concerns, but he pushed past it until he was knee deep in information. It was one of those moments where Bruce began to dig so deep into Hal's story that when he realized he was so far, it felt isolating to not be around Hal, suddenly empty and isolated feeling. A chill up his spine, an expression of turmoil and maybe nostalgia for better things, Bruce felt shame as much as he did crave for Hal— and that, that was guilt too. Guilt for the fighting, for even online stalking through Hal's profiles, guilt for existing. It felt like it would eat him alive, closing the computer down and migrating to his bedroom. It felt odd to even think of any of this so closely, so intimately, and he didn't get any sleep that night.
It wasn't a gradual thing, not how Bruce wanted it to be, but when he next sees Hal in his getup for the Green Lantern with the Watchtower looming around themselves almost menacingly, Bruce was not normal about it. "Normal" is a suggestive term, but Bruce immediately could tell he himself was acting different— Clark's questioning although fond stare was a clue to this, as well as Diana's soft acceptance, but even then Bruce was so in tuned to his actions he could tell he was being different, and of course it was around Hal.
It was early in the morning, although slowly veering into the edges of lunchtime, and Batman was only there for monitor duty and simply because he wanted to see Hal again— not something he entirely wants to admit, even to himself. Everyone but seemingly Hal were moving around with the grace of being an early bird and enjoying their own time, regardless of super human identities and interactions, and enjoying coffee. Bruce wasn't surprised to see Hal grudging along with the aftermath of a hangover and a small grimace on his lips, but Bruce was surprised at how he immediately latched onto that detail— Hal sulking, an obvious migraine blooming in his head, and how Bruce's immediate reaction was to get ibuprofen and black coffee with two sugar cubes in it just like Hal likes it. And no, he doesn't entirely remember when he first acknowledged Hal's coffee recipe either.
Bruce sits the coffee mug down casually in front of Hal at the team meeting table, the two ibuprofen pills sitting diligently next to the mug, and promptly leaves the room. He ignores how Hal sits straighter, more attentive with surprise at Batman's gesture, accompanied by a sincere sense of thankfulness along with blatant confusion— mostly because when has Batman ever shown something so casually sweet, and especially to Hal? Bruce knows two things then: he cares more than he wants to, and absolutely likes to confuse Hal probably more than he should.
It goes on like this for a few more weeks, almost routine but incoherent enough to be random still. Batman does something for Green Lantern, however seemingly small, and leaves a very much confused and conflicted Hal in his wake. On the battlefield there is not much change though, but Bruce does notice he bites his tongue more often instead of auguring, which apparently makes Hal subconsciously do the same, just maybe not as much— because Bruce does notice Hal having this internal conflict within himself about auguring and fighting with the Batman, a very scrunched up look on his face usually, and sometimes Hal does look past it and and still does pick a fight. That's not to say Bruce doesn't defend himself however, but he doesn't look and find needless details to argue over either.
The thing that actually bothers Bruce though is not the lack of fighting, but its why he's doing this to begin with. He begrudgingly likes Hal, maybe at this point past the "begrudging" stage. He likes Hal and Hal is none the wiser, probably still sees Bruce as an annoying reclusive human at baseline level instead of what Bruce wants to be seen as… which, now that he thinks about it, what does he want to be seen as to Hal, to anyone remotely romantic? Someone steady at least, and not his persona as Brucie Wayne or even not fully as Batman either, just plain Bruce, which is asking more than anticipated— because it can take a lot out of another person to understand Bruce and his many masks, something he's fearful of even showing in fear of rejection. So he steps back and lets the world turn, lets battles come and go, lets Hal be.
Of course, right when he begins to accept that he won't show himself, that surely no one can truly understand his circumstances, is when things with Hal come to a head.
Like most their interactions, they are both in the Watchtower in the monitor room, hovering around each other afraid to poke the beast. Well, maybe its more accurate to say that's what Bruce is doing since Hal either doesn't notice the tension or chooses not to care, his voice babbling about something or another, which is actually another development in their relationship— Hal talking nonstop. Either he's becoming more comfortable with the idea of Batman listening in or he's gotten to the point of anxiety where he needs to fill the space with some kind of wording, some kind of noise, and Batman happens to be the cause of that. Whichever way, Hal is talking nonsense and empty words, but Bruce finds himself listening in regardless, as if drinking up Hal's whole personality. He hunches a little over a keyboard and eyes track the surveillance system, but he must admit, most if not all his attention is on the other man. Hal is flopped over another chair with his legs hanging off one of the arms, a hand waving around as he gestures wildly and green mask firmly in place, but even then Bruce can occasionally feel Hal's stare on the side of his face. It's not a hard stare but its heavy, weighty, almost too personal.
"You're okay, right?" Hal declares rather abruptly, the question stagnant in the air and lined with conflicting thoughts for a brief moment. It's like he wants to show he cares but he doesn't know how, doesn't know how to voice it or even remotely show it in his body language. For Hal, Batman has always been fickle in ways of not being able to see what he's feeling— Hal can't count how many times Batman has been stoic and unreadable because it happens so frequently, and this time is no exception. But he wants to show Batman something, something good, something pure that they can both lean back on.
Regardless, at the question, Bruce doesn't know what to say still, a clawed finger scratching on the tabletop in slow movements. He knows why Hal is asking of course, Bruce has been acting a little weird from Hal's perspective, a little less than who he was, so he gets it. He understands, but he doesn't know how to even handle this or go into detail about why he's suddenly so enamored with Hal. Is it love or is it just the prospect of a new circumstance? He knows that certainly can happen with people, how they can love the newness of a situation or another person instead of actually liking the person for who they are— Bruce is positive he himself has fallen victim to this too, however much he perhaps wishes he weren't so susceptible. So it is something to think about and not push to the side, and at the same time, he desperately wants to push all of this aside and just tidy his emotions up as "not to be touched." He knows he does that a lot, too.
But now, as Bruce takes too long to answer, Hal speaks up again in a less gritty tone and more of a hesitant one, beckoning the Batman's attention once more.
"What's been going on, Spooky?" Hal asks, but instead of the nickname being a teasing, borderline mocking tone, it is spoken softly, melodic. It's surprising, immediately so. It's suddenly as if Hal is trying not to corner a feral animal, trying to show some mercy, and that almost makes Bruce sad as much as it makes him uncomfortable. He doesn't want Hal to see him so vulnerable and yet, there is that thought there too of whether or not he should be vulnerable anyway.
"I'm fine." He says instead, no matter how Hal hasn't even technically asked, but unfortunately for Bruce, this seems to be the wrong answer for Hal too.
Hal gets this irritated, scrunched up look on his face under his mask, almost as if he bit a lemon or something equally bitter, and gestures a hand as if throwing Batman's claim away. He looks… hurt almost, like he really wanted Bruce to just be honest for once, and now that he hasn't, it obviously makes Hal feel unworthy or at the very least insecure. At most, he just seems annoyed again, like they are back at square one.
"Okay, whatever." Hal mutters dismissively, turning his head to focus on the next computer screen, repositioning himself into a more bunched up position than the lax and fluid expression he was showing. It immediately has Bruce feeling bad, though he does realize the emotion is just barely there, as if he won't even allow himself the luxury to feel it, and then feels bad about that too.
The room is washed in awkward tension but both of them are stubborn enough not to be the first to mention it, and honestly, Bruce is used to leaving things aside and looking past them despite their intensity. Even then, he can practically see the strained energy around them, almost palpable in the Watchtower's conditioned atmosphere, and doesn't know what to do about it or how to even begin to address it. Instead of a conversation he should probably initiate, Bruce breathes slowly and returns to his task for tonight.
What comes next throughout the week is both physically and emotionally draining, mostly because Hal has decided he doesn't want to play nice anymore, his temper roiling off him in practically red rays. He doesn't seem more angry than when they first would argue, but that doesn't mean he isn't passionate in it but nor is he ignorant when Bruce makes any sort of sign of being hurt— because he is hurt, if not just plain offended that Hal thought this would be the "correct" way to continue this feud. Bruce doesn't even want to continue being at each other's throats, it really, but it just seems so easy to do so. It's as if this is the only normal way to interact with one another, no matter how Bruce yearns for better things quietly.
Hal, however much he tries to ignore it, does notice when Bruce is hurt though, Bruce can actively tell in the other man's body language and slight shift of voice, but neither of them do anything about it. Bruce isn't sure if that makes him more upset, although perhaps upset is the wrong word— "upset" seems too emotional, too considerate of his own feelings, which Bruce is notoriously not known for. Either way, he is upset, begrudging so. Hal teases Batman on and off the battlefield now, a generous amount of mocking and disrespect flowing from the Green Lantern like it's his only drive in the world to get under Batman's skin, and though Bruce is slightly unsure about what Hal is currently feeling, it just doesn't feel the same as before. The criticism is not backed by Bruce arguing against it, it's simply just Hal looking for a fight and trying to goad Batman out, and when Bruce doesn't even remotely quip back, Hal gets this weird look on his face. It's almost as if he regrets what he's doing or what he's saying, a new development, but doesn't try to stop it from happening either. It makes Bruce conflicted, and by the other League member's expressions, makes everyone else uncomfortable and perhaps just as confused too. And when that starts happening, when this thing between them starts to impact the Justice League, Bruce knows he must do something about it sooner than later. He will not have it interfere with duty, that's where he draws the line, especially if it has anything to do with Gotham.
So, like most things Bruce does, he doesn't do it by halfs and invites Hal Jordan to another one of his galas. Although he didn't technically invite Hal to the first one, this time it is purposeful, he just carefully constructs the invitation as something that has no ties to Bruce Wayne whatsoever, and waits.
This gala is hosted on a Friday night in a privately funded museum that Bruce rented for the event. It is nothing out of the ordinary and there are no hesitations for other people to try to attend, filling up the museum in waves of silk and velvet, champagne and wine. The energy is glittery yet fake with selfishness that richer peoples are known for, and something that Bruce is unfortunately well versed in falling right in line with them. But since he has invited Hal, he must admit, he is less social unless someone is actively seeking a conversation with him, and if they are rather just trying to flirt into a bed or a thick check, Bruce actually puts an end to to somewhat quickly. He maintains his aloof demeanor of course that Brucie Wayne is known for, fake drunk and half lying through his teeth, but he's actively waiting for Hal, and Hal does come. He enters the party awkwardly but still with a sense of charm, going for the champagne glasses easily enough and trying to enjoy himself. Bruce's eyes track him fluidly, but his hand around his own drinking glass is suddenly clammy, hot and sweaty, and his breath is locked in his lungs.
He doesn't entirely… know how to do this next part. Bruce had wanted to introduce himself to Hal as who he actually, truly is: Batman, Bruce Wayne, Bruce. But now, as the time has arrived, he just stands there dumbly staring at Hal.
It's difficult, this kind of thing: being honest, not only with someone else but just yourself. It has Bruce feeling strung up, his thoughts pointing in all different directions, his voice stuck in his throat, and feeling hallow. Still, with just an ounce of self awareness, Bruce does recognize he does actually want to do this. It does take a good deal amount of effort to begin, but once he does, he can't stop.
Tongue heavy in his mouth, Bruce takes a swig of champagne, puts the glass down on the nearest waiter's tray, and walks up to the Hal in a definitive line. He passes by women in golden dress, men in navy tuxedos, yet all his attention is on the other man, sucking him in. It's almost as if time begins to slow down, Hal's eyes meeting the deep of Bruce's own gaze, eyebrows flitting upward in surprise but welcoming attention. It has Bruce immediately feeling some sort of rock in his chest about how Green Lantern never gives Batman that look, but this time, instead of shoving it down in the deepest parts of himself, Bruce steps around it and continues his approach steadily. The music feels more lively suddenly, louder, but it's still natural when Bruce gives Hal his signature gleaming smile. There's a vague "Excuse me," to Hal before Bruce gently grabs his forearm to tug him down the nearest corridor, the act sudden and unexpected. The man stumbles after the billionaire in obvious shock, but he doesn't try to rip his arm free, if anything he seems to enjoy the adventure if not a little suspicious.
"Whoa, hey, at least buy me dinner first—" Hal is blabbering some nonsense, something that's immediately familiar enough for Bruce to do this next part without much hesitation.
Knowing the building well, he guides them into a spare meeting room, his eyes swimming with uncertainty but still is determined to keep going, halting them both to a stop. The doorway shuts behind them, Hal growing very questionable with pretty crooked brows and a slight slant of his lips, watching Bruce keenly, and Bruce— Bruce drops his eyes to the floor briefly before zipping back upward to stare intensely at Hal, endlessly wondering what the Green Lantern is thinking.
"Look, this is nice and all—" Hal begins, clueless and anxious at the turn of events, but Bruce stops him with just a name.
"Hal." He declares, voice that same deep roll to it when he talks as Batman, expression vulnerable, yet surprisingly open. It has Hal shutting up at least, clacking his mouth closed to stare bewilderingly at Bruce, trying to piece together where has he heard that voice before? It does seem to quickly dawn on him however, face conflicted yet completely certain as he mutters disbelievingly,
"Bats?" The nickname strikes something in Bruce, his eyes blinking softly as he waits for Hal to take in the situation, although there's suddenly no doubt in his mind: he does love Hal, he's surprised it took so long to realize it. The thought comes at the worse time, mostly wishing he would've come to this realization sooner instead, it's unexpected but still is there nonetheless, beckoning Bruce's focus, and Bruce— he could die right now for Hal, bloody and broken on the shiny flooring, and not have an ounce of regret in his heart. God, he would give Hal everything, the moon, the stars, the entire universe even if Hal never reciprocates. That thought is stark in Bruce's head, suddenly bombarded with the idea that Hal could end everything right now with Bruce and Batman, the whole Justice League if he thinks very strongly differently. That fear is chilling, heart wrenching like someone is grabbing at his chest, ripping it to shreds.
But, instead of an outright rejection or even denial, Hal just stares at Bruce with these widened eyes. It has Bruce anxiously scratching at the skin around his fingernails, his gaze moving around the room unsure, before locking intensely onto Hal once more.
"What you asked that night," Bruce licks his lips anxiously but refuses to look away. "I'm not fine. I'm— I'm not." His eyes soften, gaze suddenly wet and somehow even more gentle, watching Hal with his look of pure devotion yet insecurity in himself, in his own words, but not what he is feeling. He wants to take Hal's hands, his own hands twitching unbridled with the need to feel skin on skin, yet holds back just enough.
"I love you and I'm think I'm going insane." Bruce looks so sad then yet so lovely as he admits it, and Hal blanks. His mind reruns every encounter that Green Lantern and Batman have had recently, every scene, every soft moment of truth, like he can't stop the memories from surfacing— but, as they do, it suddenly all makes sense. Batman's small gestures of gratitude, his voice a friendlier tone, his attitude less subtle, and Hal suddenly feels like he's going to drown, and Bruce just— he just looks like a tragedy, his eyelashes wet yet still long, his angled face beautifully sharp and smooth, blue eyes like the Atlantic. Every noise drowns away, swept away by the moment, and Hal can't help but smile a little hysterically.
"Okay." Hal smiles through the word, unexpected tears growing in waves, and can't stop himself from taking Bruce's hands into his own. Bruce is still rigid, but at the physical contact, he hesitates just enough to let his guard lower. He tilts his head slightly, watching Hal uncertainly, not understanding but knowing it's not rejection either, something that is almost unbelievable.
"Okay?" Bruce asks, stricken.
"Yeah, it's okay." Hal says quietly, then, "I love you too, you know."
Bruce blinks, and for once, his mind is slow. "Oh. Good." The confession is blunt in his mind, standing out against all his other thoughts and desires, definitely not sure how to describe what he's feeling nor how to approach it. Hal's reciprocation is not what Bruce was counting on despite wanting it so badly, so so badly — he's not positive what he expected, but now that's it's out there, he smiles.
It's a gradual smile, the type that is disbelieving but slowly accepting too, and suddenly he can't help himself from not smiling. It's a rare thing even for Brucie Wayne to have such a genuine grin on his lips, face getting this reddish blush to the pale skin as he basks in the warmth of equal love. Hal laughs a bit at seeing the Batman smile, their conjoined hands warm in their connection, making Bruce laugh too. It's a soft, intimate moment, both of them having that half laugh half just melting into each other's presences, and it's nice. It's so nice, and Bruce was so not prepared for this— either way, he's definitely not complaining, letting Hal linger closer, his breath gently hot against Bruce's face. It's too easy to just kiss him then, but Bruce goes slow, hovering over Hal's lips before pressing them together in a slightly messy but natural kiss. It's sweet with an aftertaste of cinnamon and then some champagne, Bruce's hands moving to grip Hal's shoulders in a vise while Hal just lets it happen, obviously not as troubled as Bruce is. That trouble though is just from his past of lack of touching someone he truly loves and cares for, he doesn't want to mess this up somehow.
But as Hal pulls back with a. cheeky grin and says,
"So you're a billionaire, huh?"
Bruce just laughs.