Chapter Text
1.
It starts on the day that Sinestro says, “You fly extremely well.”
His tone is casual—indifferent, even—but Hal’s face lights up in a smile nevertheless. Compliments from Sinestro are incredibly rare and he savors each one.
“You think so?” Hal asks eagerly. They’ve spent the entire day in the California desert, running drills and practicing constructs. Sinestro says that the location is ideal because they are unlikely to be disturbed by anyone, civilians or otherwise, but Hal knows that Sinestro prefers hot temperatures and full sunlight.
It’s nearly sunset now, and the world is turning golden, the sand and rock formations and scraggly desert flora all taking on a soft glow.
“You have an affinity for it.” Sinestro’s eyes (the same color as the desert, the same color as the sky) meet his and Hal’s heartbeat actually skips like he’s a damn teenager or something. “Your people have never been flight capable, have they?”
“No,” says Hal. “Not without a plane, I mean.”
“Watching you fly, I might believe otherwise.”
Hal really hopes his face isn't turning pink, but it sure feels like it is. “Thanks,” he manages to say despite the heat flooding his chest. “Thanks, Sin. It means a lot.”
If Sinestro has noticed anything amiss, he does not acknowledge it. “I should hope so. I do not give praise lightly.”
Hal can’t help but laugh, which releases some of the tension in his body, but he still feels like he’s about to explode. “Yeah, I noticed.”
Sinestro smiles faintly and the points of his ears lift. The senior lantern hadn’t exactly been thrilled to be assigned to babysit a new recruit and Hal had been equally unhappy to be bossed around by a complete stranger. Things had been rough at first, and not helped by the fact that Sinestro misinterpreted Hal’s human penchant for making direct eye contact at all times as an ongoing attempt to challenge his authority.
Once they went on a few missions together, though, the dynamic between them had shifted and they’d slowly started to bond. Hal had opened up about his father and his past, and Sinestro shared the story of how his wife and young child had been killed in a terrorist attack at the height of the civil unrest on Korugar. These days, Hal thinks of Sinestro as more of a partner than a mentor.
Whatever their relationship is, Hal doesn’t want it to end.
“Until next time, then?” asks Sinestro. His skin is like molten copper in the sunset.
“You don’t have to go,” Hal says.
Sinestro tilts his head to one side and his long ears flick lightly. His ears are always more expressive than his face. “I must return to my sector.”
Unable to make a coherent argument to the contrary, Hal simply reaches a hand out for him—
—and Sinestro reaches back.
2.
Sinestro practically tears Hal’s shirt off and throws him onto the bed. Laughing, Hal sits up partway and watches his partner undress himself. Beneath his uniform, he wears an interesting outfit obviously designed for warm weather, a long blue tunic with a wide fabric belt over matching trousers, all meticulously embroidered in multiple colors.
Sinestro unwinds the belt and sets it aside. Hal reaches over and runs his fingers over the patterns curiously. The fabric is some kind of lightweight linen, and the embroidery feels nice on his fingertips.
Sinestro sheds the long tunic, followed by the trousers. He’s still wearing loose beige undergarments, but what Hal can see of his body is completely hairless.
A minute later, Hal is flat on his back and Sin is on top of him. Their bodies press together as Sinestro alternates between kissing and biting. Hal kisses back, eager for another taste of dark lips and crimson skin. Unnaturally warm hands explore his body, feeling up his thighs and hips and chest.
Though the overall structure of their hands are the same, Sinestro’s are so slender compared to Hal’s, his fingers long and narrow and tipped with black nails. Hal catches Sinestro’s left hand and interlaces their fingers to study the differences. Their rings tap together softly.
“What is it?” asks Sinestro.
“Nothing,” says Hal. “Just looking.”
Sinestro bites his neck again. His teeth are razor sharp, another difference between them, and Hal can feel the blood trickling onto the sheets. Hal runs his hands over Sinestro’s arched forehead and through his hair until he finally pulls back.
“Come here,” gasps Hal, reaching for Sinestro’s waistband. “Let me…”
Sinestro ignores this in favor of pulling back and removing Hal’s jeans, followed by his underwear. He pauses abruptly, staring down at Hal with a slightly furrowed brow. His lips part as though he means to ask a question, but no sound emerges.
“Uh… something wrong?” asks Hal, unpleasantly self-conscious. Belatedly, he realizes he has no idea what Sin was expecting from him—nor what to expect from Sin. Something bigger? Something smaller? Tentacles? Pincers? Teeth?
After a moment that lasts too long to be comfortable, Sinestro meets his eyes again. “No, nothing.” He leans forward to kiss Hal’s forehead. “You’re perfect.”
“Are you sure?” asks Hal, completely unconvinced.
“I am.” Sinestro kisses him again, this time on the lips. They break apart after a long moment and Sinestro pulls the last of his clothes off.
Sinestro’s cock is about the size and shape that Hal was expecting, but uniformly placed along the entire length are dark, pointy studs about a quarter of an inch long at the base and descending in size approaching the tip.
Now it’s Hal’s turn to stare. “Uh,” he says, pushing himself up on his hands. “What are those… sharp things?”
“Spines,” says Sinestro, as if this is the most obvious thing in the world. “Korugarian females require them to trigger ovulation.”
“That’s… different,” says Hal awkwardly. “It looks like it’s going to hurt.”
Sinestro nips his lower lip. “It will not. I give you my word.”
Hal stares at it, thinking. If Korugarian females can handle… that… then he should be able to too, right?
“Here.” Sinestro takes Hal’s wrist and guides him to wrap his fingers around his length. “You see?”
Hal tightens his hand. The spines are not as sharp as he assumed they would be. In fact, they have a bit of give to them, and it sort of reminds him of one of those dotted condoms.
“If you’re still uncertain, we can trade positions,” offers Sinestro. “Or I can use a construct on you.”
Hal shakes his head. “I’ll try it. Just go slow, okay?”
“Of course.” Sinestro kisses his forehead again. “And you will tell me if it becomes unpleasant?”
Hal nods. “Yeah. Promise. Just—hold on. We need…” He rolls toward the bedside table and grabs a half-used tube of lubricant. It’s got Carol’s fingerprints all over it, and from the way Sinestro’s nostrils flare, likely more than that. Hal pretends not to notice as he passes it over. “Use this.”
Sinestro works slowly, which Hal appreciates. He doesn’t want to think about what might happen if Sin is too fast or too rough. Warm hands spread his legs apart, and then warm fingers work him open. Hal allows his head to fall back as he closes his eyes and just feels.
When Sin finally asks him if he’s ready, Hal murmurs softly in agreement. Still in no great hurry, Sinestro pushes into him. To Hal’s surprise, it really doesn’t hurt, though it might have if Sin hadn’t spent so much time on prep. The sensation kind of reminds him of some of the weirder toys that Carol has used on him in the past, but there’s a difference between a plastic toy and a real alien. The feeling of the spines scraping against him sends incredible sensations shooting all the way up his back, and a moan escapes his lips.
Sinestro is still moving at a careful place, with slow and shallow thrusts, but now Hal wants more. He shifts his hips and wraps one leg around Sinestro’s waist in an attempt to pull him closer, but Sinestro just smiles down at him and says, “Patience.”
“Sin, come on,” whines Hal, digging his heel into Sinestro’s lower back to no avail. “I’m ready.”
“Are you?” Sinestro gives him a smirk. “I think I’ll be the judge of that.”
Hal hooks his other ankle over the edge of the bed and tries to drag himself lower onto Sinestro, but his partner just holds his thighs firmly in place.
“Come on, Sin!” cries Hal, not caring if the neighbors hear. “Sin, please.”
“Oh, you’re pretty when you beg.” Sinestro picks up one of Hal’s limp, shaking hands and brings it to his lips for a kiss. “Almost irresistible. Almost.”
“Sin, please!” His entire body feels like it’s on fire as he clenches down on empty air. “Please, please, I need you.”
Part of him is afraid that Sinestro really does plan on torturing him forever, but after a little bit more teasing, Sinestro begins to fuck him in earnest, driving himself in up to the hilt and pulling nearly all the way out over and over again as Hal screams and digs his fingernails into Sinestro’s shoulders. The spines feel so good that Hal vaguely finds himself wondering why he’d ever been nervous in the first place. They’re wonderful, increasing sensitivity and touching him in ways he’s never been touched before.
“Mine,” Sinestro gasps in his ear. “You’re mine, Jordan.”
“Yours,” Hal agrees, delirious with pleasure. “Yours, yours, yours—”
Sinestro bites his neck again. It’s probably an alien thing, he’s done it so many times now that it’s got to be instinctive or cultural or something, but Hal has forgotten how sentences work so he can’t ask about it.
“You’re going to be so good for me, aren’t you?” asks Sinestro, thrusting all the way into him again.
“Yes,” moans Hal. “Anything you want, Sin.”
A warm hand wraps itself around his cock, and a dark magenta thumb strokes the tip. “Come for me, then.”
It doesn’t take long for Hal to obey. He’s vaguely aware of Sinestro praising him, vaguely aware of his partner finishing inside him. He comes back to reality just as Sinestro is turning him onto his stomach and raising his hips. They’re not done. Hal tries to lift his head, but Sinestro pushes his face back into the pillow.
“Hold still, pet,” he says, his voice soft.
“Sin?” he mumbles. Sinestro enters him again, and Hal forgets what he was going to say.
This position feels a little more impersonal, but Sinestro is no less enthusiastic, setting a vigorous rhythm that leaves Hal moaning and drooling into the pillowcase. Warm hands drag his hips backwards and forward, and he imagines he’ll have bruises in the shape of handprints tomorrow. The thought is oddly thrilling.
Every time Sinestro drives into him, Hal feels his mind go blank and all he can think is more, more, more. Sinestro is speaking to him, but Hal has no idea what he’s saying, just that it sounds sweet and approving. The knowledge that he’s being praised doesn’t feel as good as the cock inside him, but it is a close second. He’s always wanted Sin’s approval, ever since the day they met. He’ll do anything for more of it.
Hal comes without being told to, which earns him a light smack on the ass and a teasing reprimand, but he can tell without even turning around that Sinestro isn’t really that annoyed with him.
When they’ve both finished, Sinestro finally allows Hal to collapse onto the mattress again. Hal rolls onto his side and Sinestro lays down behind him, pressing his lips to the back of Hal’s neck and wrapping an arm around his waist.
“Good?” Sinestro asks.
“Really good,” murmurs Hal, turning partway to nuzzle him.
After a few minutes of peaceful silence, Sinestro begins to purr.
3.
Hal is eager to see Korugar, but it takes months of nagging before Sinestro finally agrees to bring him home with him. Hal is kind of hurt—he’s not that embarrassing, is he?—but he knows not to take it too personally. Sinestro is secretive by nature, and it takes a long time for him to open up.
When they’re about half an hour away from Korugar, Sinestro says, “I suppose there is something you ought to know.”
Hal doesn’t pause in his flight, but he does turn partway to look at Sinestro. “What’s wrong?”
“My people are going to assume you are female when they see you,” says Sinestro. “Do not take offense.”
“Female?” repeats Hal. “Me? Why?”
Sinestro drifts a little closer until he’s near enough to tap a slender finger against Hal’s forehead. It takes Hal a moment to understand his meaning.
“Are you serious?” Hal begins to laugh, but then he realizes something. “Wait. Is that why you—you—you thought I was a girl!”
Sinestro looks flustered, which is a new experience for Hal. “You have a very small forehead.”
“It’s not small!” cries Hal, who has never given a single thought to the dimensions of his head in his life. “It’s average!”
“Jordan—” Sinestro appears to give up on this line of conversation. “The point I am attempting to convey is I do not wish you to take offense when my people inevitably believe you to be female due to the sexual dimorphism that exists in Korugarians.”
“It’s fine, it’s fine,” says Hal, who is still trying to wrap his (average sized) head around this new development. “Just—jeez, okay. I wasn’t expecting that. Just because of my head? I mean… I’m not shaped like a girl, I don’t think.” He gestures to his chest area. “You know?”
“You are not shaped like the Star Sapphire,” grants Sinestro. “Most Korugarian women are not either.”
“Oh.” Hal stares ahead as they fly onward. “Okay. I guess. Yeah.”
“Do not worry, Jordan. If anyone refers to you as female, I will correct them.”
And Hal hears himself say, “What if you didn’t?”
Horror blossoms in his chest as he realizes what he’s just said. Sinestro looks at him curiously, but there is no mockery in his face, no scorn. “Would you prefer that?” he asks, his tone so casual that he might as well be enquiring about dinner options.
“I don’t know.” It’s possibly the most honest thing he’s ever said in his life. “Maybe.”
“I see no harm in it.”
Hal waits for the other shoe to drop—it can’t be that easy, can it?—but there is only silence.
“Thanks,” says Hal, speaking so quietly that he doesn’t think Sinestro will actually catch it, but one of those long pink ears flicks and he realizes he was mistaken. Sin hears everything.
Sinestro slips his hand into Hal’s and laces their fingers together.
They remain like that the entire way to Korugar.
4.
Korugar City is an enormous, colorful city perched on the edge of a desert. From high above, Hal can see vibrant gardens and sparkling turquoise canals weaving their way through streets lined with houses and buildings made of sand-colored stone.
The moment they land, they are greeted by enormous crowds of civilians. Hal finds this a little unsettling, but apparently the arrival of two Green Lanterns is cause for celebration on Korugar. As Hal is introduced to one important person after another, he is careful not to smile with his mouth open because the Korugarians, like many species, see the display of teeth as a threat.
It only takes a minute or two to see that there is indeed a distinct difference in Korugarian head shapes. The males have the same arched foreheads as Sinestro, while the females have what Hal considers human-looking heads.
It’s not the weirdest example of sexual dimorphism he’s ever seen—some alien sexes look so wildly different from each other that he wouldn’t even clock them as members of the same species without the aid of the ring—but it is funny to think he resembles a Korugarian female and never had any idea until today.
Other than that, though, Hal can’t see any unexpected differences between the males and females. They’re almost uniformly tall, and their limbs are long in proportion to their already-long bodies. Though the females do have some curves, they’re generally more slender than the average human woman.
The Korugarians are all shades of deep crimson or vibrant magenta, and they all have jet black hair, save for the elders, who have gray or white. Their eyes come in every color of the rainbow, and glow faintly against their dark sclera. They wear flowing outfits made of solid-colored fabric covered in rainbows of dense embroidery and leather sandals.
Studying them a little more closely, Hal notes that the males are mainly dressed in long tunics belted at the waist with loose calf-length trousers beneath, and their jewelry is solid gold. The females wear shorter tunics, some short enough to show midriff, belted at the underbust with ankle-length trousers. Some of the women also have gauzy scarves on their heads held in place by heavy decorative circlets studded with colorful gems.
There’s no sign of any of the political turmoil that claimed the lives of Sinestro’s wife and child so many years ago. The city seems peaceful and clean, with somber-faced officers in black uniforms keeping the crowd in order.
It turns out that Sinestro lives in a palace at the heart of the city. This, he claims, is because the Korugarians recognize the importance of his work, unlike the humans, who never give Hal the recognition he deserves. Hal waves this off. He doesn’t want recognition and he especially doesn’t want his enemies knowing where he lives.
The palace isn’t just Sinestro’s home, it’s also an important political building where nearly all of Korugar City’s elected officials work. Sinestro is apparently very involved in Korugarian politics, which sounds both stressful and boring. They’ve only just settled in an enormous bedroom with a gorgeous view of the city when the calls start to come in—reports, petitions, requests, and more.
To his credit, Sinestro works through them very quickly and turns his attention back to Hal the moment he is done. Still, laying in his arms and watching him work only affirms to Hal that he does not want anything to do with politics.
5.
The next morning, Hal wakes as the sun is filtering through the gauzy curtains. Sinestro, who had apparently risen much earlier, enters the room carrying some kind of woven basket. He places it on the mattress just beside Hal.
“What’s that?” asks Hal groggily.
“See for yourself.”
It’s not like Sin to be mysterious, so Hal sits up. He figures it’s probably breakfast or something. Removing the lid, he catches a glimpse of dark green fabric and something that glints like gold.
Lifting it from the basket, he realizes that it’s a short tunic, similar to the ones he saw yesterday, embroidered in metallic gold. He stands up and holds it against his body. Short is an understatement.
“If you do not care for it—” begins Sinestro.
“N-no, it’s great,” interrupts Hal, suspecting he’s still asleep or possibly hallucinating. “I’ll try it on now. But it might not fit.”
“I had it tailored to your measurements.”
Hal looks at him in confusion. “When did you take my measurements?”
“I used the ring. I did not think you would object.”
Hal reaches into the basket again and withdraws a matching set of trousers, ankle length. Dreamlike, he undresses himself and begins to pull the Korugarian clothing on. A small part of him, the only part that isn’t screaming wordlessly, wonders how Sin managed to get custom-tailored clothes so quickly. They’d only arrived yesterday.
Sinestro moves closer to adjust the top and Hal looks down at himself. His stomach is fully visible, which he’s not ashamed of, he’s got abs, but it’s a weird feeling when combined with the fact he isn’t shirtless. The pants are pretty comfortable, kind of baggy, and sit at his natural waist.
“Here,” says Sinestro, opening a wardrobe to reveal a full-length mirror. “Look.”
Hal looks. He looks… like himself, wearing alien clothes. He turns from side to side, considering the width of his shoulders and the narrowness of his hips. It’s all wrong, isn’t it? It’s ridiculous. The Korugarians will see him for what he is in an instant, forehead or not.
“What’s wrong?” asks Sinestro.
“Nothing,” says Hal, looking away from his reflection. “I just… maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe we should tell them the truth.”
Sinestro gives him a searching look. “What is the truth?”
“I’m a man,” says Hal. “That’s all there is to it, and I can’t change that by putting on some different clothes.”
He almost expects Sinestro to argue with him, but he only glances casually back to the mirror and says, “You might use your ring to fill it out.”
“I—what?” asks Hal.
Sinestro arches an eyebrow at him. “On your hand you carry one of the most powerful artifacts in the universe. I understand this might be a terrible shock to you, but it is capable of conjuring more than enormous fists.”
“Yeah, but…” Hal stares at his chest. “How will it work?”
“Did Kilowog not teach you how to construct disguises while you were in boot camp?”
“He did, yeah.” It had been a particularly annoying class, meant to teach skills needed for the sort of stealthy or undercover missions that Hal is totally unsuited for. He looks up to the mirror and back down to his chest. “But…”
“If the ring can make you look like a member of an entirely different species, it stands to reason that it is capable of making minor alterations to your body shape, does it not?”
“I guess?” says Hal, wishing he could just go back to bed. Sinestro gives him another eyebrow raise. “Okay. Fine. But if I look stupid, we’re gonna forget the whole thing, okay?”
Sinestro tilts his head slightly forward, the Korugarian equivalent of a nod, and moves away. Hal studies his reflection, thinking about what he wants to do. The ring won’t really alter his body, it will be more like a hard light hologram. In practice with Kilowog, he’d woven disguises around himself, wearing them like a suit of armor. He’d never had them under civilian clothes.
Even with the ring’s allegedly limitless potential, he doesn’t really want to look like Carol. No offense to her, she always looks great, but Hal thinks that kind of jarring change might not be good for him. Besides, there’s no way Carol’s figure is going to fit into these clothes.
He guides his ring through subtle alterations, adding millimeters here and there, working so slowly that he expects Sinestro to get impatient and shout at him to stop messing around. To his credit, he doesn’t. Instead, he moves out of Hal’s field of vision completely, leaving him to work in peaceful silence. Hal can tell he’s still in the room somewhere, but he’s completely immersed in his constructs now.
Finally, after what feels like hours but was probably only around fifteen minutes, Hal takes a step back so he can examine his entire reflection. He’d been avoiding this so far, only focusing on one piece at a time, but now it’s time to face the whole picture. He takes a deep breath and prepares for the worst.
He is still himself, recognizably so, but the ring has made an unmistakable impact. He stares at the new distance between his hips and his waist, entranced. It’s so mundane, and yet somehow overpowering. He brings his hands up to his reshaped chest. It feels the way constructs always do, like it’s thrumming with electricity or magic or something, but it looks real, blending seamlessly with his skin. It’s really not significantly larger than his pecs had been, but the fabric of his shirt falls completely differently now.
As he’s busy taking this all in, Sinestro walks up behind him and places a gauzy emerald veil over his head, followed by a jeweled golden circlet to hold it in place.
“You look lovely,” he murmurs into Hal’s ear.
Hal is too overwhelmed to speak. All he can do is throw his arms around Sinestro’s neck and kiss him endlessly.