Chapter Text
Hal woke up from his dream with a violence usually reserved for waking up from a head injury mid-fight. He pushed himself up on his elbows, too disturbed to lie still. Next to him, Barry slept unperturbed. The gentle rise and fall of his chest and his relaxed expression was a soothing image. It also stood as a foil to the horribly still Barry that had haunted Hal’s dream. That Barry had been contorted and bloody, with pain etched in his expression. Hal could still see the glassy eyes and yanked back cowl.
Their line of work wasn’t safe or assured, Hal knew this. Hal had always known this; the risk and uncertainty was part of the appeal. Adrenaline was one hell of a drug, and Hal accessed it regularly just by virtue of being a Green Lantern. Barry, too, encountered near constant danger in his role as the Flash. Barry wasn’t in it for the challenge or the rush, of course, but that didn’t mean he was immune to the consequences. Theoretically, Barry and Hal could die in a moment’s notice (and for good this time, never mind past scares).
Barry stirred with a soft sigh and Hal took the opportunity to study him. Barry’s hair was tousled from the pillow and there was a hint of drool coming from his slacked jaw. His hand lay flat and outstretched between him and Hal. Hal had probably been curled underneath Barry’s arm before rolling away in his sleep. Hal wished he hadn’t; now there wasn’t any way to curl up against Barry without waking him.
Then again, maybe he wanted Barry awake. The images of the Barry from his nightmare were still vivid, and Hal could see them every time he closed his eyes. Even aside from the base comfort of having Barry’s body wrapped around him, it would be nice to see Barry moving and blinking and rolling his eyes at Hal’s antics.
Resolved, Hal scooted closer, picking up Barry’s arm and nestling under it and against Barry’s chest. Barry shifted and groaned. He opened his bleary eyes and tucked Hal closer against himself.
“Mornin’” Barry mumbled, placing a clumsy kiss to Hal’s forehead.
“Bar, it’s 3am,” Hal murmured. This position wasn’t exceptionally comfortable: his spine was curved at an awkward angle to keep him from being completely burrowed against Barry, which meant Barry’s face was parallel with his. But Barry’s weight against him was comforting and being so close meant he could see the affection and sleepiness in Barry’s impossibly blue eyes. That was more than good enough.
“Like I said. Mornin’. What’re you doing awake?”
“I had a nightmare.” Hal shrugged as if he hadn’t woken up terrified. “No big deal.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
“Sure." There was a beat as Hal chose his wording. "If we only die one more time… I want to die with you," he finally said, solemnly.
Barry sat up and so Hal followed suit. Barry’s eyes were alert even if his sagging posture and slower-than-usual speech betrayed his exhaustion. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying,” Hal said, “I want to die by your side.”
Barry’s eyebrows were furrowed. He ran a hand through his hair. He opened his mouth and then closed it again. Finally, if only to break the silence, Hal clarified.
“I’m not proposing a murder-suicide or anything. I’m just saying… you matter. A lot. To me. And I need you. So when things go down, and doing what we do they have to go down eventually, then I want to be by your side. Even if we don’t have anyone else, I want it to be us. Side by side.”
Barry’s expression softened, and he pulled Hal into a tight embrace.
“Hal, that’s a roundabout way to say you love me,” he said. “Can I ask what prompted this?” He released Hal so that Hal could look at him as he spoke.
“A dream. Nightmare. Something. The fact that you knew I needed to stay the weekend after the week from hell I just had. The fact that you still go to parties with me, even when you end up in the corner of the room on your phone.”
“You still go to jazz clubs with me,” Barry posed. “Even if you do end up in the corner of the room on my phone.”
Hal grinned and cupped his jaw. “That’s what I’m talking about, though. We’re not the same, but I’m so fucking glad we’ve made it this far.”
“You say that like we don’t have further to go,” Barry said gently, darting forward to peck Hal on the lips.
“It’s just like you to be hopeful,” Hal teased. He lay back down and pat beside him to indicate that Barry should too. Barry did, and he wrapped his arm around Hal and pressed their foreheads together.
The city outside had taken on an ethereal glow, quietly announcing dawn’s impending arrival. In a few more hours, Barry would have woken them up to make breakfast. He’d probably use the speedforce and he’d likely undercook the bacon on accident. They’d have eaten while Barry’d glanced over some case file he’d illegally taken home to review. Maybe a Rogue would have cropped up and they’d have had a Sunday bout. As it were, Hal expected they’d be sleeping in that day.
“Nightmare or otherwise, don’t get freaked,” Barry said. “We have each other, and even if there’s no one else, we will always have each other. I may be hopeful, but you’re willful. So be your default stubborn self and accept that.”
Hal smirked and meant to reply something snarky or meaningful or light. But he just kissed Barry instead. When Barry pulled away, it was to whisper:
“Oh, and Hal?”
“Yeah, Barr?”
“If we only live once, I want to live with you.”