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Barry’s uncomfortable. And it not just because the fabric of his shirt keeps irritating the terrible sunburn he got at the beach today. Nor is it because Hal’s wandered off and left him sitting alone at the bar they came to tonight. Though, that’s a little part of it. 

He wasn’t entirely sure what ‘no-bias bar’ meant when Hal said it earlier, but after seeing various couples of various genders dancing and leaving together, he’s got a good idea. 

He’s never had a problem with gay people. His parents and Daryl always taught him to see content of character, not judge based on superficial things, like who someone is attracted to. But being from a conservative state like Missouri, he’s never seen or met many gays. And bars were never really his scene. So, the overtly flirtatious smiles and appraising looks aren’t something he’s used to, especially from other men. 

It was better when Hal was with him. He was a good distraction. For Barry from the stares he’d get, and for the men who’d see someone better looking that would draw their gaze. But unfortunately for Barry, Hal had a short attention span and a bad habit of leaving him alone. The only consolation is knowing that eventually he’d make his way back to Barry. 

So here he is, on his third beer of the night, waiting for his friend to return from whatever he deemed more important than being with his best friend. 

No. That makes him sound jealous. It’s not that he needs Hal’s attention all the time, just that he flew out here for the week so they could see each other. It’s been two months since the last time they were together. And it’s his last night here. With college starting up again for both of them soon and their respective jobs, it’s hard to say when they’ll have time to do this again. 

Barry sighs, moves his gaze around the bar to distract him from those depressing thoughts. He perks up when he notices a familiar head of brown hair at the bar. Even without his trademark leather jacket, Barry can pick him out of any crowd. 

He’s leaning back against the bar top, hips popped out and shirt riding up enough to show a bit of skin. If it were anyone else, Barry would think they were trying too hard to look sexy, but it’s Hal. That’s just him in his natural state. This is only exemplified when he turns to look where Barry’s sitting and meets his eyes, gives him a smirk and a wink like he’s flirting. Barry knows he isn’t, but he feels suddenly shy and it seems like the room’s temperature rose a few degrees. He blames the feeling on the alcohol and returns the look with a small wave.  

The bartender appears beside Hal with a pitcher and two glasses, with which Hal quickly makes his way over. 

“You trying to get me drunk?” Barry laughs. Hal grins toothily at him.  

“Maybe.” He says, “Just trying to get you loosened up.” 

“I’m loose enough thank you.” 

Hal lets out a loud laugh, causing some heads to turn towards them. 

“Yeah right! You’re so tight I could feed you a lump of coal and you’d shit out a diamond.” 

Barry sees a few amused looks from the patrons whose attention had been caught and blushes.  

“Watch what you’re saying around here.” He grumbles, finishing off the last of his pint. Hal rolls his eyes at him. 

“That’s what I mean. You need to chill.” He stresses, emphasizing his point by pouring Barry another glass of beer. 

Barry eyes it warily, already feeling pretty tipsy as it is. He takes it anyway, promises himself it’ll be his last. He can see a pleasant looking flush on Hal’s cheeks. He’s had much more than Barry tonight, having polished off a few before the sudden decision to go out on the town. 

This close Barry can also see the dishevelment of his hair, and the slight swollen redness of his lips. A pang of disappointment flashes through him at the thought of Hal ditching him to just make out with some random girl.   

Hal notices him staring, and Barry thinks he can see a flash of panic in his eyes before he’s smirking again. 

“Had some fun I see.” Barry tries to be causal, but he’s never been that good at hiding his emotions, “Must’ve been some girl.” 

Hal shrugs. He’s not meeting his eyes, and Barry thinks it might be out of guilt. 

“Sorry.” Barry says. Hal swallows his mouthful of beer and frowns. 

“For what?” 

Barry shakes his head, “Nothing, nevermind.” 

Hal gives him an odd look, but smiles anyway. He claps his arm around Barry’s shoulders, but reels back quickly when Barry winces.  

“Shit my bad, man!” he apologizes, laughing, “I forgot.” 

Barry glares at him, but the effect is lost with the upturning of his lips, “Forgot. Right.” 

“Should’ve been more on the ball with that sunscreen.”  

Barry hums in agreement and nods. He knows that he burns easily and brought enough sunscreen to drown himself with, but it happened anyway. All because he didn’t want to ask Hal to help him out. 

He’s never had a problem with getting someone to get those hard to reach places, but this time was different. He felt awkward and shy the whole time they were out. As soon as they got to the beach, exposed to all the sun-kissed, perfectly toned bodies littering the sand. Comparing them to his own pasty skin and his still too skinny limbs and feeling self-conscious.  

And then Hal took his shirt off and Barry didn’t remember him ever being that built. He mentioned starting to work out for his Air Force training, but even still. Barry has been trying to get into shape for the police force for the past couple months, eating well and working out at least three times a week. But he’s still nowhere near the level of muscle mass Hal put on, and the guy eats week old pizza for breakfast. 

It took a lot of goading from Hal just to get Barry to take his shirt off after his display. And it was only made worse when Hal joked about being blinded by his white skin, then grabbed his bicep a moment later and asked if he was working out. Barry had snatched his shirt up, fully intending to put it back on when Hal grabbed it from him. He looked him in the eye and apologized, said he meant it, that he thought Barry was looking really good. Then he dragged his gaze slowly down Barry’s body before turning and wandering off to the shoreline. 

And Barry had a hard time looking Hal in the eyes after that. He had no problem keeping them off the rest of him, though. The low hang of his swim shorts on his hips and that expanse of bronzed skin catching his gaze every time he looked over.  

That had been weird, noticing these things on his friend. He’s always known Hal was a good-looking guy (he’d have to be blind not to notice), but being unable to look away from him? That was a little strange.  

He had shrugged it off as just not being used to Hal’s new muscle gains. Now that he’s drunker and can be more honest with himself, he’s not so sure that’s the reason anymore. The setting isn’t helping his suspicions that much either. 

He chugs back about half of his pint to ward off any thoughts that might be too uncouth, and it catches Hal’s attention. His eyes widen in surprise before a huge grin plasters his face. 

“Alright bro!” He shouts, pumping his fist into the air a bit. Barry closes his eyes to steady himself a bit before reopening them and grinning back.  

Hal leans forward into his space. His eyes are half-lidded and slightly glazed over, but still fixed intently on him. Barry leans forward too, grin still on his face and returns the look. 

They sit like that for what’s probably only a minute, but feels like much longer. Barry doesn’t really know what’s happening between them, but the gaze Hal’s shooting him gains heat the longer it’s kept, and Barry can feel it echoing through his lower abdomen. He finds himself leaning closer, Hal’s eyes drop to his lips and— 

“Am I interrupting?” 

The voice startles Barry into jumping backwards. Hal stays put, but his gaze is drawn to the man now standing at their table. Barry looks at him too, taking in the six-foot-four mass of muscle and hair.  

“Uh, no.” Barry says quietly. The guy is big, and pretty handsome if Barry’s being honest. It’s intimidating. He sees Hal glance over to the guy. He doesn’t say anything at first, just leans back into his chair. 

“What’s up, man?” he says then, coolly. He’s not bothering to hide his annoyance with the man. Barry’s a bit confused at his random hostility until the guy sidles up closer to Hal’s side and into his personal space. 

 “Just wanted to talk to the pretty boy sittin’ here.” The man leers. He leans his weight onto the table, back to Barry, obviously trying to put himself in between the two friends. 

Hal juts his chin in Barry’s direction, “Then talk to him.” 

Barry blinks and straightens at the acknowledgement. The guy looks back at him, giving him a once over. He scoffs, sneers at him before turning back to Hal. 

“Funny, too.” He says, “I like a guy who can make me laugh” 

Hal rolls his eyes, “Is that what you want me to do? Make you laugh?” 

The guys leers at him and he’s not even looking at Barry, but he can still feel how gross that look is. 

“You can make me do other things too, pretty.” 

Hal laughs humourlessly, “What, come? No thanks, man. I don’t swing that way.” 

Even with that admission and Hal’s clear distain for him, the guy persists, leaning more into his space. 

“C’mon pretty, don’t be shy. I saw you with that dude near the bathrooms. I think you swing whichever way you want.” 

“Even so, I don’t want to swing your way.” Hal says. Barry can tell he’s starting to get riled up. He can see it the tense line of his shoulders and the clenching of his jaw. He knows a fist fight is coming soon, and the last thing he wants is to spend the rest of the night patching Hal up. The guy seems oblivious to this, still attempting to pick Hal up. 

“Hey now, I just want to have some fun.” 

He takes Hal’s arm, crossing an unspoken line. Barry’s not going to stand by and let this guy grab his friend like that. Not to mention this is definitely the tipping point for Hal’s ‘fight’ response. So, he stands up, pushes himself between the two men.  

“He said no.” he states firmly. 

The man let’s go of Hal’s arm, allowing Barry to move more in front of his friend. He knows he doesn’t have to do that, standing in front of Hal like he’s a helpless child, but the alcohol is dulling his sense of rationality, and it’s sending an overwhelming need to protect through him. He just doesn’t want Hal to get hurt. He’d back off if Hal asked him -- unlike this asshole -- but he hasn’t yet, so Barry stands his ground. He can hear Hal rise out of his seat behind him, though. Feels his steady presence there, watching his back like always. 

The man sizes him up, smirking.  

“Why don’t you go find someone else to bother, man. You think pretty boy is gonna want some little twink like you?” He laughs, “Trust me. You’re not his type.” 

Barry scowls at him, tries to will away the flush he feels coming at the thought of him and Hal…like that. 

“He doesn’t want you either,” he reiterates, trying to speak calmly and slowly so he doesn’t have to dodge punches, “so maybe you should find someone who does.” 

He mentally shudders at the thought of unleashing this guy onto some other poor man, but he wants to get him out of here before Hal decides he’s done with Barry’s diplomacy. Unfortunately for him, it’s the man who gets tired of it first, and he shoves at Barry. He’s already on unsteady footing from the beer, so the small push sends him stumbling back into Hal, who catches him.  

Hal steadies him against the table and starts forward, fully intending to teach this guy a lesson. Barry reaches out and grabs his arm before he can do anything stupid, like starting a fight and getting himself beaten up or arrested or worse. 

“Hal, stop.” He says, tugging the arm, “Let’s just go.” 

Hal doesn’t acknowledge him, instead tries to shrug the hand off. The man puts up his fists, fully ready to fight or defend. But before either of them can start swinging, some bouncers appear and grab the man. 

“Alright buddy,” one of them says, “that’s enough.” 

The other one asks Barry if he’s ok, and he nods. They pull the guy away towards the back exit, and Barry sees them all leave through it.  

“Sorry about that,” a voice calls out behind Barry, “He’s been here a few times before, corners guys like that every time. He won’t be coming back.” 

Barry turns and sees it’s the bartender come to check on them. Hal glares at him and scoffs at the attempted apology. He reaches into his pocket for his wallet. 

“Yeah, whatever.” Barry can hear him grumble, “I’ll cover the tab.”   

He pulls out the only cash he has, not enough for all the beers they’ve collectively had. Barry pushes his hands away and pays the bartender himself, then grabs Hal’s arm again and pulls him out of the bar. Both of then glance around when they’re out, looking to make sure the man didn’t stay to meet them outside. When they’re sure he’s not around, they relax. 

“I’m sorry, Bar.” Hal says, rubbing the back of his neck, “Usually that place is pretty cool.” 

“It’s ok. I know you wouldn’t bring me somewhere just to get into fights.” Barry says, then smiles, “You save that for Oliver.” 

Hal chuckles at that, but still looks guilty. He looks out across and down the street, probably searching for somewhere else they can go. Barry reaches out and places a hand on his shoulder. 

“Why don’t we grab a sixer and head back to your place?” He suggests. After what just happened, and knowing how intoxicated he is now, he wants to go somewhere private and comfortable. 

Hal looks like he’s going to say no, like he wants to continue on until morning, or they end up passed out somewhere. Barry gets it, he’s flying back to Central tomorrow and he doesn’t want to waste any time he has left with his buddy either. That’s why he wants to go back to the apartment, so they can spend time together one on one, talk and reminisce without interruption or distraction. 

He makes up Hal’s mind for him, wraps his arm around his shoulders and directs him towards an idling cab. Hal resists at first, whining about how lame Barry is, but Barry doesn’t let up. He shoves him into the back seat and gets in. Hal directs the cabbie where they need to go. 

“If you were anyone else I’d ditch you.”  

Barry smiles, feels warmth spread through his chest because he knows that’s true. While he has a tendency to wander, he never leaves Barry behind. 

He looks at Hal and takes in his relaxed features. An easy smile and half lidded eyes are directed at him. Barry’s seen Hal give similar looks to cute girls, and it’s alarmingly similar to the one they shared in the bar. He blames it on the alcohol again, and realizes he’s been doing that a lot tonight. Did he even have that much to drink? 

He can feel heat rise in his cheeks at the thought that maybe…maybe every heated look and lingering touches between them have been genuine. He doesn’t know how to feel about that. 

Hal’s smile grows when he notices the blush. He crushes Barry to his side in a hug. 

“Thanks for protecting me, Bar.” He croons, then laughs loudly. Barry winces as it echoes through the car. He sees the cabbie glance through his rearview mirror at them. 

“Didn’t do much protecting I don’t think,” Barry replies, pulling back to sit straight in his seat. Something heavy falls onto his shoulder as soon as he’s comfortable. He looks over and gets an eyeful of messy brown hair. Hal’s leaned fully into him, his eyes closed.  

“My hero.” He says softly. Barry can feel the corners of his mouth lift, and he pats Hal’s leg.  

Hal’s eyes open and meet his. He’s smiling softly. Barry feels his heart skip a beat and looks away. 

-- 

The cabbie speeds off as soon as he gets his money, but not before he throws out a few slurs at them. Hal flips off the cab as it drives away, while Barry pretends that he didn’t hear and flees to the building’s door. 

As they head up, Hal starts up his complaining again and even tries to convince Barry to go to a nearby dive bar he and Oliver frequent. Barry feels like his tongue will fall out of his mouth for the amount of times he says no. When they get inside Hal immediately opens two of the beers they bought, and sets the rest out on the plywood and milk crates acting as a coffee table.  

When Barry first saw it -- and some of the other questionable furniture in Hal’s tiny bachelor apartment -- he thought Hal was playing some elaborate joke on him. But he wasn’t. He claimed the only things worth spending money on were made for comfort, like a bed. And the couch, which is fortunate for Barry, who’s been sleeping on it for the past few nights. 

He flops down onto it, and relaxes into the cushions, closing his eyes. He feels a hundred times more at ease sitting inside the apartment, just the two of them. Hal fidgets beside him, clearly feeling the opposite. 

“Bar, this blows.” 

Barry opens his eyes just to roll them. 

“Hal, relax.” 

Hal lets out a longsuffering sigh, letting his head fall back against the couch in annoyance. Barry closes his eyes again and smirks. 

“There, that’s better.” 

He can feel Hal’s glare burning into him. Opening his eyes, Barry turns his head to return it mockingly, sticking his bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout. They sit like that for a few minutes before Hal’s glare morphs into something more like a leer. 

“Twink.” He grins. 

Barry flushes, “Shut up.” 

“Guess you’re gonna need to bulk up a little more.”  

Barry scowls at him, more upset that he’d bring up what happened than the jab at his physique. He wants to forget that whole thing, not think about how some guy could just walk up to his best friend and treat him that way. He thinks back to the confrontation, and suddenly remembers an important detail of it. 

“You weren’t with a girl.” He blurts, “Earlier, I mean.” 

Hal gapes at him, but quickly covers up his shock with a shrug.  

“No.” 

Barry says nothing, just keeps watching him. He feels himself get inexplicably upset at the revelation and frowns, turning his gaze to the floor in front of him. 

“It’s not a big deal is it?” Hal asks. He sinks into himself almost imperceptibly.  

Barry shakes his head, smiles at him softly, “Of course not.” His eyebrows furrow in thought, “You should be careful though. AIDS is still pretty—“ 

“Barry! Holy shit.” Hal shouts. He sits up straight, “It was just some fun. I’m not gonna let some guy fuck me in the ass or anything!” 

Barry flushes at that, clears his throat awkwardly. Hal shakes his head at him. 

“Sorry.” Barry mumbles. He picks at the label on his bottle.  

Hal waves him off, “Whatever. I’m safe with girls, what makes you think I wouldn’t be with men?” 

“Lack of the ability to impregnate?” Barry tries. 

Hal snorts, “You dork.” 

Barry grins at him. He can feel the tension slide out of the air, and lets the alcohol cloud his mind again. Hal falls back to his previous position beside him, and throws an arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer. Barry allows it to happen, feels his shirt rub against his sunburn, but ignores the irritation. 

“What a shithead.” Hal says suddenly. Barry furrows his brows at him. 

“The dude.” Hal explains, “Sees me with one guy and think he knows me. My type.” 

He huffs and takes a long swig of his beer. Barry watches him, takes a drink of his own.  

“You saying you like ‘twinks’?” Barry asks, using air quotes because he’s not actually sure what that word means. Only that apparently, he is one. 

Hal gives him that easy smile again, but his eyebrows are drawn together, like he’s in deep thought. He doesn’t answer, just takes another sip of beer. 

“What’s a twink?” Barry asks suddenly. Hal chokes on his beer. 

“You serious?” 

Barry nods. 

“Young guy, skinny, kinda more pretty looking than handsome.” Hal explains, “You’re a bit of a twink.” 

“I’m not that skinny!” Barry protests, “At least not anymore.” 

Hal laughs at him, gives his shoulders a squeeze.  

“Listen Bar, I know you’ve been working out and all, and you’re definitely not as scrawny as you were, but you still got a long way before you’re anything but a bean pole.” 

Barry glares at him, feeling pretty put out, “Fuck off.” 

Hal’s eyes widen at the curse and it sets him off laughing again. Barry crosses his arms over his chest and frowns at him. 

“Shit Bar, how much have you had?” 

Barry finishes the bottle in his hand, “Not enough for this betrayal.” 

“Aw Barry,” Hal coos. He brings his hand up to grab at Barry’s chin, squishing his face and shaking it back and forth a bit, “You’re a sexy bean pole. Totally my type.” 

Barry slaps his hand away and pushes him into the arm of the couch, ignores he laughter he hears in favour of grabbing another bottle and opening it. He flicks the cap at Hal, who’s not even paying attention enough to bat it away. 

“You wish you could have me.” He mutters, making himself comfortable on the couch again. He feels the world spin a bit when he sits back and thinks he should take it easy on this next beer. There’s a weird half-stifled noise that comes from his friend and he glances over to see Hal biting his lip, doing nothing to hide the big grin on his face.  

“Do I?” he asks. 

Barry moves his eyes to a spot on the floor and considers it a bit. He thinks he makes a pretty good boyfriend. He’s smart, he’s going to college and has a career plan. He tries his hardest to be a good person and to make others happy. He’s funny…well, he thinks he’s funny. 

“Yeah?” he replies, then pauses, thinks a bit more. 

“Yeah.” He decides more firmly, “I’m a catch.” 

He looks over to his friend again, and catches the tail end of what looks like Hal giving him a ‘once over’. 

“What?” 

Hal startles out of his gaze and smiles at him again. 

“Nothing.” He shrugs, “You are pretty cute. And that workout routine has definitely been good to you.” 

Barry looks down at himself, clenches his hand and watches the newly formed muscles in his forearm contract. Flexor pollicis longus, flexor digitorum profundus, his mind supplies. 

“You think?” he asks. 

He looks back to Hal again, and sees him lazed into the arm of the couch, legs spread open and beer bottle perched precariously between them. His eyes are half-lidded, lips quirked up slightly. 

“Yeah.” 

Barry watches him lift his arm behind his head to support it. The action causes his shirt sleeve to droop, and Barry to get an eyeful of his more developed muscle. He frowns, feeling less proud of his progress now. 

“I don’t know.” He shrugs, “I feel like I’m getting nowhere.” 

He sees Hal take a swig of his beer out of the corner of his eye. The couch cushions dip beside him as Hal leans forward and sets the beer down, then shuffles toward him. He curls a leg underneath himself and wraps an arm back behind Barry’s shoulders. 

“Nah man,” he says, “You’re definitely bigger.” 

Barry shrugs a shoulder, “I’ll never be as big as you are.” 

Hal sticks his free arm out and flexes, “I’m not that big. Not like Clark was or anything.” 

He’s not sure what compels him to do it, but Barry reaches out, brushes his fingers across the firm muscle of Hal’s bicep. He thinks he hears a sharp intake of breath, but he’s too distracted to acknowledge it. Hal relaxes his arm and flexes it again a few times in quick succession, making the muscle dance under Barry’s fingers. Barry smiles, and drags them down until his hand drops back to his lap. 

Hal drops his arm again, letting his hand rest on the cushion in the gap between his shin and Barry’s thigh. He leans more into Barry’s space, and Barry can feel the hand behind him come to rest gently on his shoulder. They’re close, sitting closer than strictly necessary on the big couch, but it doesn’t bother him. It feels nice. 

It’s the alcohol, he thinks to himself, and repeats it when he finds his eyes following the line of Hal’s nose down to his lips. 

“What’s it like…kissing another guy?” he asks before he can think about it. Just the alcohol talking. 

Hal watches him a moment before he responds. 

“It’s different,” he says, “there’s stubble, lips aren’t as soft, but it’s still good.” 

Barry nods in understanding, but he can’t really see how that would be as good as kissing a girl. 

“It’s not really how it feels that makes it good, though,” Hal explains, as though he’s reading Barry’s mind. 

“How do you mean?” 

A shoulder is shrugged up, “Dudes are more…forceful, I guess. Every kiss is like a fight, y’know? Both of us wanna be in charge.” 

Barry’s mouth pulls up in a small grimace. 

“Doesn’t sound that great at all.” He says, “Sounds like you’re kissing the wrong guys.” 

Hal laughs, “According to a lot of people, me kissing any guy is wrong.” 

“I don’t think it’s wrong.” 

Hal’s watching him again, his mouth drawn in a tight line, eyes darting back and forth between his. Barry smiles softly at him. Hal’s hand squeezes the cushion near Barry’s thigh.  

“What guys should I be kissing?” he asks. 

“Guys like me.” 

The hand on the cushion squeezes harder before releasing. Hal brings it up to run his finger through his hair. He looks almost nervous when he does it. 

“You?”  

“Me.” 

Hal huffs out a small laugh, shakes his head, “No.” 

“No?” Barry repeats, laughing, “C’mon, why not? I thought I was your type?” 

Hal breaths out a loud huff, “What, do you want me to kiss you?” 

Barry bites his lip. Does he?  

He drags his eyes across Hal’s face, takes in the line of his cheekbones, and the freckles speckled across them. Studies the curve of his lip, and the small scar that crosses his eyebrow. 

Gazes into dark brown eyes… 

“Yes.” He breathes. Those eyes widen, and then so do Barry’s. 

“I-um…” he stutters, “I mean—“ 

He doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know why he said yes in the first place. Hal’s not saying anything either and Barry doesn’t know how he’s reacting, if he stepped over some boundary that he shouldn’t have…Hal’s fooled around with men, but he shouldn’t just assume he’d want to fool around with Barry— 

Not that Barry even wants to, he just got a little bit too curious. He’s been drinking and he doesn’t know what he’s saying— 

“Bar!” 

Barry jumps at the sudden shout and realizes he’s been saying all of this out loud. 

“Sorry.” 

“Christ, you really can’t hold your alcohol.” Hal says, rolling his eyes, “Relax, I’m not offended, just a little surprised is all. I mean, I know we’ve been kinda...flirty this week, but I figured you were just letting loose a bit.” 

He mutters, “Didn’t think I’d have a chance or anything…” but it’s too low for Barry to really pay attention to over the loud panicked thoughts in his mind. 

“Flirty?” He squeaks. 

“Yeah.” Hal says, like it’s obvious, “All the touching and the looks and shit…that time you gave me the ‘big eyes’. Fuck, I almost grabbed you right there.” 

“The—“Barry swallows, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, “the ‘big eyes’?” 

“Yeah, girls do it a lot. When they’re shorter than you, they look up with just their eyes instead of tilting their whole head. Big eyes.” 

Barry stares at him, “I never knew about that.” 

Hal grins, grabs his beer off the table and takes a drink. 

“Yeah, should’ve figured. You’ve never really been good at catching that stuff.” Hal says, almost fondly, “Too much time spent up here.” 

He taps Barry’s forehead with his finger. Barry frowns. 

“Does this mean I flirt like a girl?” 

Hal barks out a laugh, “No! No, it was just that one thing.” 

Barry nods, “Alright…” 

He thinks over the past week, tries to remember any instance of him trying to flirt with Hal, but he comes up with nothing. He remembers the excitement of visiting, the bone crushing hug when they first saw each other…he remembers thinking about how tactile Hal was being, even for Hal. But the touches just made him happier to be here rather than bothering him. They were a tangible reminder that his friend was there, beside him, so he touched back to create more of that feeling.  

And he remembers their banter, how natural it came to them after months of being apart, their only contact being letters written hastily in whatever moments they had free. He doesn’t remember saying anything that could be misconstrued as flirtatious. He joked around about Hal’s endless stream of girls…he did make some comments about Hal’s new physique, but…that was just congratulatory. He admired Hal’s hard work, and wanted him to know. 

All that being said, he’s not surprised he was oblivious to Hal’s flirting. He’s never really been good at taking those hints.  

“I didn’t realize I was doing that,” he says, “Flirting.” 

Hal smiles at him, shrugs his shoulder in careful nonchalance, “Should’ve figured.” 

“Well, it is me.” Barry says, trying for humor to diffuse the awkwardness. Hal just smiles and nods shortly. He takes the bottle from Barry’s hand and sets it on the floor. 

“I think that’s enough for you.” 

Barry chuckles, “Yeah, thanks.” 

Hal nods again then shifts around on the couch so that he’s back facing forward. His arm is still around Barry’s shoulders, though. And Barry is hyper aware of the hand resting on one, gently squeezing every so often as they sit in an awkward silence.  

“Hal?” Barry says eventually. 

Hal turns to him, eyebrow cocked up in question. Barry watches him for a moment before leaning in, swallowing that nervous hitch in his throat, and kisses him. Hal’s mouth had parted in surprise as Barry leaned in, so his kiss lands clumsily on Hal’s upper lip. And his eyes are open, and this close he can count every eyelash and freckle. He can see Hal staring back at him in shock. 

He pulls back ready to apologize, but a hand comes up, grips the back of his head and pulls him forward again. Their mouths press together a bit more firmly this time, Hal taking his time to snake his tongue out to lick at Barry’s lips. Barry only hesitates a moment to open up to it, letting it lick in gently before sliding past teeth and further.  

A small, involuntary noise leaves him and cuts through the silence. Barry feels embarrassment creep up to colour his cheeks, but the sound seems to spur Hal on. Gets him to lean closer, run his hand down to grab at the back of Barry’s neck and hold him there. There’s a bite at Barry’s lip and then Hal’s pulling away, but his hold on him doesn’t falter.  

They breathe against each other. Hal rests his forehead against Barry’s, eyes closed, while Barry tries desperately to collect his thoughts. 

He doesn’t understand how that felt so good. There was stubble rubbing against him and a strong hand dictating his movements and the distinct smell of beer and cologne, the exact opposite of everything he associates with kissing a girl. And yet he liked it. A lot.  

It worries him. There’s a difference between thinking about it and experimenting, and actually enjoying and wanting it. 

And he wants it, he realizes. He can feel it coursing through him as he reaches up to clench Hal’s shirt in his fist and pulls. How it spreads low in his abdomen when their mouths meet again and Hal lets out a startled moan. He tugs at the shirt more at the noise, trying to get Hal closer. Instead Hal pushes him back into the couch, and Barry is confused and embarrassed again for a brief moment, but then the shirt is tugged over Hal’s head and tossed away. He grabs Barry by the collar and pulls him in again, not hesitating before fucking his tongue back into his mouth.  

Barry understands why Hal felt that men are more forceful when they kiss, and he doesn’t know why he expected Hal to be different. His friend is full of fight and vigor and brashness, how else would he kiss?  

Barry’s not the same, he’s never been one to lead in these situations. He prefers learning what his partner wants by how they move against him. How they show him what makes them cry out and shiver. He likes being led; can’t really bring himself to take too much control. He wonders for a moment if that’s what Hal wants, for Barry to push him down and force his tongue down his throat instead.  

But then Hal’s grabbing him, pushing him to lie down across the couch so he can straddle Barry’s hips. Pulling him up by the collar to lick at his mouth before tugging the fabric over his head and shoving him down again. Leading without hesitation. It’s like they were made for each other. 

He shakes that thought from his mind, instead focusing on the irritating pain he feels when he hits the pillow, the rough fabric rubbing at the red skin on his back. He winces and Hal breathes out a half-hearted apology against his lips.  

Then that insistent tongue is back, and there’s hands sliding down his sides, tickling at his ribs and stomach. He reaches up to push his through Hal’s hair. Fingers trail down to tease at the edge of his jeans before Hal reaches back up, grabs Barry’s hands and forces them down into the cushion beside his head. They push a little harder before letting go, and Barry’s mind is clear enough to take the hint and keep his hands in place. 

Hal trails kisses down Barry’s neck to his chest, then lower, shuffling down the couch to plant a few along hipbones and the trail of hair between navel and waistband. Barry tries and fails to stifle a moan, and Hal sits back up, shoots him a filthy smirk before letting his fingers ghost over the bulge forming in Barry’s jeans.  

“It’s OK to make some noise, Bar.” Hal breathes, fingers stroking a bit harder, “I wanna hear it. Wanna hear you.” 

The hand finally presses down firmly, moving to gently palm at Barry’s dick. It’s not much, but after a long time of having nothing but his own hand, it feels amazing. He bucks up into the touch, an embarrassingly loud noise emitting from him as he watches the hand.  

“That’s it.” Hal grins.  

His other hand tries to clumsily undo Barry’s belt, and Barry wants so badly to grab him and hug him close. Kiss him like they were before and grind into him. But he doesn’t move, just lets Hal unzip him and push the denim away. Groans when he strokes him through the thin fabric of his boxers. 

He drags his eyes up to Hal’s face, sees teeth biting hard into his lower lip and the dark, lust-filed gaze fixed on him. He feels like he should be self-conscious, feel exposed under that look, but he doesn’t. 

There aren’t any secrets between the two of them, they knew almost everything about each other. Everything but this, and to Barry it feels like just another page turned in the book, though an unexpected one. He never thought he’d know what it was like to be kissed by Hal, to be touched by him. He figures Hal never thought he’d know what Barry would look like when he’s being stroked off, what noises he’d make. 

He would never admit this sober, but Barry can remember when he was a teen, late at night, he’d recall stories Hal would tell him about his exploits with girls. He’d wonder what it was like to be that close with a girl, to have sex, and eventually his thoughts would turn to his friend. What it would be like to be close to him, be looked at by him like he is now. To touch and taste…but he brushed that off as general curiosity. Thinking about sex and imagining it through stories Hal had told him, of course his mind would make those scenarios. That’s all. 

Like now, imagining Hal’s exploits at the bar, being curious. Of course it led to this.  

A gentle brush of skin against the sensitive underside of his dick jolts him back to the present. It makes him jump a little and gasp, causing Hal’s motions to stop. They stare at each other for a moment before Hal starts to remove his hand, Barry almost jumps out of his seat to stop him. 

“No!” he yelps, making Hal pause, “Keep--I want—“ 

He cuts himself off when he grabs Hal by the shoulders and pulls him back, pressing their mouths together once more. He feels a hand snake down again, this time nudging under the waistband of his boxers and curling directly over his cock. A swear is forced past his lips and into Hal’s mouth and he can feel the responding chuckle breathed back into his own. 

Hal shifts his body and is suddenly pressed fully against Barry, his hips nestled in between Barry’s thigh and the back of the couch. Barry can feel the hardness pressed into his leg, and shifts into it. Hal swears as his hips jerk forward.  

Barry pulls back a bit to look at him, moves his leg again and gauges the response. This time its quieter, Hal’s eyes drift shut and his mouth parts slightly to lets out a small gasp. The hand on Barry’s cock slows and stops. Eyes open again and bore into Barry’s, and he gazes right back into them.  

At some point, Barry’s hands made their way to rest on Hal’s waist again, and when he realizes this he grips on a little harder. He tugs on Hal’s waist, trying to move him closer for a moment before changing his mind and moving them down to undo Hal’s jeans instead.  

He whimpers when Hal moves his hand from his cock to stop the ones at his jeans.  

“Bar, you don’t have t—“ 

Barry cuts him off with a kiss. Distracts him with it so he can push his hand away and continue undoing his belt and zipper. Hal moans into the kiss, and Barry can feel the smile there too, confirmed by the faint laughter he hears as well. He licks into Hal’s mouth as he pushes the zipper apart. 

He’s not sure if he should be surprised that Hal decided to go commando. It does make him pause for a moment, a flash of uncertainty shoots through him when he runs his fingers up the shaft. But it’s quickly replaced with the hot flush of arousal when Hal moans, loudly, into his mouth.  

They separate, Barry looking down to watch his hand slowly curl around Hal’s length. It’s not the first time he’s seen Hal’s dick, not even the second or third if he’s being honest, but it is the first time he’s seen it hard. It’s different, seeing it this way, but good different. He likes the feel of hard flesh in his palm, the low moan he gets when he strokes it down to the base.  

His eyes dart back up when Hal nudges his head against Barry’s, noses pressing together before mouths meet. Hal’s hand makes its way back to Barry’s cock, and they stroke each other off in tandem. Barry’s free hand reaches up to grasp at Hal’s shoulder, fingers scratching into the skin as he breathes heavily into Hal’s mouth.  

He can feel himself getting close even though Hal’s only really just begun touching him. It’s been too long, Hal’s setting a fast, smooth rhythm and it’s been way too long.  

“Sh-shit…Hal, fuck!” 

He cries out, a short-strangled noise, and comes. Hard. It shoots out of him, some high enough to reach his chest. His eyes catch Hal’s as the orgasm rips through him and it only makes it feel more intense. Hal watches the whole thing with rapt attention.  

Barry can only shut his eyes. He breathes deeply and tries to ward off the oncoming embarrassment of how quickly he came. There’s shifting beside him, and it alerts him to the fact that he still has Hal loosely grasped in his hand. He opens his eyes and meets Hal’s again. 

Hal doesn’t look like he’s going to make fun of him, like Barry was worried about. More like he wants to devour Barry whole.  

Barry apologizes anyway. 

Hal shakes his head, “That’s was hot as fuck.” 

He takes the hand that was still resting on Barry’s dick and drags it up, smearing the come on his fingers with whatever made it up Barry’s stomach and chest. Barry grimaces at the mess and Hal grins. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll help you clean up…” He props himself up to straddle Barry again, “After I finish making you dirty.” 

He grabs his own cock this time, stroking lazily. Barry moves to rest his hands on Hal’s thighs, but he’s stopped. His wrists are grabbed and placed above his head again, and held in place by one of Hal’s own. Barry swallows, feels his dick twitch in interest as he follows the line of Hal’s body down to where he’s stroking himself off again. 

He meets Hal’s eyes and shifts under the hand holding him. He wants to touch him again, make him gasp and produce those noises, but Hal shakes his head. His hand his moving faster now, and Barry can tell he’s close by how he tries desperately to keep his eyes open. 

“D-did I really make you come that hard Bar?” He asks, and Barry’s post-coital, alcohol-soaked brain tries to comprehend why he would ask that.  

“Y-yeah? Don’t think it’s ever been that good.” He answers honestly, and gets a choked off moan in response. 

“Oh, fuck yeah,” Hal moans, motions getting quick and sloppy, “Just for me, huh?” 

Realization hits Barry like a ton of bricks and he has to hold back from rolling his eyes. Of course Hal would get off on praise. He feels a surge of exasperation and fondness rush through him and stretches out in a sigh, grinning softly. 

“Just you, Hal.” 

Hal doesn’t respond, just makes these small keeping whines that go straight to Barry’s spent dick. He watches Barry, let’s his eyes drag over the lines of his face and body. Barry watches him, too. Takes in the flush on his cheeks and the way kiss reddened lips curve around gasps and moans. He looks into dark eyes, wishes he could see the gold in them that he loves and tells Hal before he can think about it: 

“You’re beautiful.” 

There’s a string of curses, followed by a short cry of his name, and the tightening of the hand on his wrists. Hal’s come paints Barry’s stomach, drawing lines where Barry’s own missed. It turns him on and kind of grosses him out at the same time.  

His hands are finally freed, but a heavy body collapses on top of him. Hal’s breathing hard, coming down from his orgasm, and if he wasn’t crushing Barry into the couch and making a worse mess of them both he’d let him stay as long as he wanted.  

“Hal,” Barry chokes out, “I can’t breathe.” 

Hal grunts in reply and moves to lie beside Barry instead of on top of him. Unfortunately, he chooses the wrong side and falls off the edge of the couch. Barry is knocked to his side when it happens, and he can feel some of the come on his stomach wipe onto the couch. He hears Hal curse from the floor. 

“Fuckin’ knocked over the beer.” He groans. Barry glances over the side of the couch, and sees Hal’s head lying in a puddle of alcohol. He has drying jizz on his stomach, and his dick is still hanging out of his pants, and Barry can’t help but laugh. 

“Are you OK?” He stutters through giggles. Hal sits up and shoves at him. He’s glaring, but Barry can make out a small smile on his face. 

“I’m fine, asshole.” He grumbles, running a hand through beer-soaked hair. Barry’s still giggling, drunk on alcohol and orgasm, and Hal’s looking at him with overwhelming fondness.  

But his face falls quickly, “You got jizz on my fuckin’ couch dude!” 

Barry stifles his laughter long enough to apologize, and it slowly peters out when Hal stands and shucks off his pants. He gets an eyeful of Hal’s ass, and it was hard to tell earlier at the beach, but it’s nice. Barry wants to reach out and grab it— 

“C’mon dude, let’s get this shit off of us.” Hal says, and reaches out to him. Barry stares at the hand before grabbing it and letting himself be pulled off the couch. He feels odd when Hal lets go of his hand to stride toward the bathroom, but he brushes it off and follows. 

The bathroom is small, only just big enough to house a toilet, small sink, and cramped shower. Hal jumps straight in after he turns on the water, but Barry’s a bit more hesitant. He fiddles with his already undone jeans, not sure if he’s supposed to wait or join.  

This is different from his experience with girls. He’s never felt this unsure of himself afterwards with them. A passing thought reminds him that it’s because he’s supposed to do these things with girls, that’s why. He’s not supposed to kiss his male best friend and touch his dick and make him come, that’s why.  

His stomach sinks. He feels sick.  

The shower door opens again and Hal sticks his head out, water dripping down his nose and off his chin. He’s frowning, but his eyes are warm and comforting. That sick feeling slowly fades. 

 “You gonna clean up, you gotta get in now. Hot water doesn’t last long.” Hal says. Barry smiles and shoves his pants down, dashing into the small space quickly. They’re standing close enough for their breath to mingle. 

“Forgot.” Barry replies, shifting around in an attempt to get some of the water, “I don’t know how, though, since I’ve been taking cold showers all week.” 

“Dude, not my fault you’re too slow to get to the bathroom first.” 

“You pushed me out of the way every time!” 

Hal laughs, “Yeah.” 

Barry’s about to jokingly scold him for being a bad host, but then there’s strong hands spreading soap against his stomach and the words catch in his throat. Hal smiles at him when he jumps in surprise. 

“Said I’d help you get clean.” 

A flush spreads across Barry’s cheeks before he can stop it, and he smiles back. Hal makes quick work of the mess, and spreads the soap up Barry’s chest. He tries to scrub it across Barry’s face too, but his hands are batted away. Barry tells him to move so he can rinse off, but doesn’t expect to get a face full of water when Hal decides to duck away quickly.  

He hears Hal shut the shower door on him, laughing as he sputters and blocks the water spray. When he turns it off and gets out Hal’s already dried off. He’s holding the towel out for Barry, and when Barry steps closer he wraps it around his shoulders, rubbing at them to dry him off. 

The sudden flips in Hal’s demeanor is confusing. He’ll look at him softly, be comforting and warm one moment, then play around and be crass the next like nothing ever happened. Barry doesn’t know what to think of it, just takes some comfort in the fact that things aren’t awkward now, that Hal is still acting like his best friend even if it’s interrupted by brief, more intimate moments. 

It’s only when they leave the bathroom that the unsure feeling Barry had before returns. He watches Hal jump into his bed, and wonders if he can join him, or if it’s time to back off now. He turns to the couch and sees the come dried to the fabric and grimaces. He really doesn’t want to sleep there tonight.  

“Bar,” Hal calls out sleepily, “Just get in the bed, man.” 

Despite the invitation, Barry still hesitates. He’s thinking about grabbing the boxers left in the bathroom just in case, but then Hal’s lifting the blanket up and groaning at him to just get in, so he does. 

The blankets have barely settled around him before his arm is being pulled to wrap around Hal’s stomach, and he’s spooned up against his back. 

Barry snickers, “Never thought of you as a cuddler.” 

Hal turns his head enough to glare at him. 

“Hey, I take care of my dates, alright?” 

“I’m your date?” 

Hal’s eyes soften, and he looks at Barry a moment before he lies his head back on the pillow. 

“You’re my friend.” He sighs. Barry thinks it sounds almost sad, but he can’t fathom a reason why he would be upset. Except maybe the fact that Barry leaves in less than eight hours. 

And suddenly Barry’s upset, too. He hugs Hal closer and buries his head into the space between his shoulder blades. A hand grabs his and holds it tightly. They fall asleep like that. 

-- 

Barry remembers that night fairly clearly for how much he drank. He can also remember the morning after. Waking up late, rushing around through one of the worst hangovers he’s ever had, and trying to get his stuff together so he didn’t miss his flight. 

He remembers waiting for the cab with Hal in silence. And when it came and he didn’t know how to say goodbye. How he wanted to kiss Hal, say they’d see each other soon even though they both knew it would be months, maybe even a year.  

He remembers looking out the rear window of the cab, seeing Hal standing outside his apartment building and feeling his heart break. 

The reaction he had confused him then, but he knows what it all meant now.  

He turns to look at Hal lying beside him. He’s eating one of the donuts from the box, and when he’s done he smears the glaze between his fingers, staring at it, before speaking. 

“You know,” He says, still playing with the glaze, “Every time I came home I had to see that come stain and be reminded of what happened.”  

Barry grimaces at the thought of that stain being there and seen and maybe even sat on by someone. He keeps his mouth shut, though, when he gets a glimpse of Hal’s furrowed brow. He staring intently attached his fingers and doesn’t look at Barry when he speaks again. 

“For a week I’d see it and I was reminded of that night. The whole week, actually… from when you got there, to that night, and that miserable look you gave me when you left. It was constantly going through my mind and I realized…” he sighs and shakes his head, finally breaking his gaze from his fingers, “And it wasn’t even just then. Before that, when we were in high school…fuck, it’s been a long time.” 

Barry nods, reaches fingers out to brush over the skin on Hal’s arm before taking hold of it.  

“Me too.” He says quietly, “It took me a while to realize, and even longer to admit it to myself, but…me too.” 

Their eyes finally meet and Barry smiles at Hal. 

“Better late than never.” He says, and Hal smiles back. He pulls the arm Barry’s still grasping up and over Barry’s shoulders and pulls him close.  

“You would know.”  

Barry laughs and rests his cheek next to Hal on the pillow. He takes in his profile, the fading freckles on Hal’s cheeks, the gray hairs starting at his temples, and the lines forming around still vibrant brown eyes. Eyes that turn to look back at him with a fondness that rivals his own.  

He feels his heartbeat pick up. He suddenly feels nervous and unsure of this whole thing all over again.  

Barry raises an eyebrow, “You waited a week to clean the couch?” 

“I was rarely at home to do anything about it!” Hal explains, “And then Ollie was coming over one day and I said ‘fuck it’ and just flipped the cushion.” 

“And eventually got around to cleaning it?” Barry tries.  

Hal shrugs, “And eventually forgot about it.” 

Barry slaps a hand over his eyes. 

“Oh my god, Hal.” 

He hears faint snickering beside him. 

“And eventually sold it to some couple for some extra cash.” 

Barry opens his fingers enough to see Hal grinning at him. 

“You’re not serious.” He says, but Hal’s grin only widens. 

“Absolutely.” 

Barry groans and tries to roll away, but Hal rolls on top of him and pins him to the bed. He lifts up his still sugar-coated fingers in front of Barry’s face and wiggles them. 

“Wanna help me clean up?” He asks, a suggestive smirk stretching his lips. Barry cocks an eyebrow at him. 

“After that story it might be better to teach you how to clean up.” 

Hal rolls his eyes, but he’s not deterred. He presses in further, letting his fingers dance along Barry’s lips teasingly. Barry shifts his head away every time they get close. 

“Seriously, that’s so unsanitary Hal. That was probably their first couch they bought together! And then they flipped the cushion and saw tha—mmph!” 

Fingers are shoved into his mouth despite his protests. Hal has a self-satisfied smile on his face, and Barry glares at him, but licks the glaze off anyway. When he’s done he tugs the hand out of his mouth and makes a show of how disgusted he is about it.  

“Ugh, for all I know you don’t even wash your hands regularly.” He gripes. 

Hal shrugs, “I don’t” 

“Eugh.” 

He’s pinned down again. Hal looms over him, looking decidedly finished with their conversation. 

“Shut up and kiss me asshole.” He demands, and presses their lips together without waiting for a response.  

“Oughta clean that mouth of yours.” Barry replies into the kiss. He feels a huff of laughter against his lips and smiles back.