Chapter Text
If you were to ask Barry when he was younger where he pictured himself at forty, he’d probably give an answer somewhere along the lines of office job, marriage with kids, and a white picket fence. He never would have said anything about divorce or living alone in a two-bedroom apartment. There would be no mention of examining dead bodies’ day in and day out. He definitely wouldn’t have said anything about one day sleeping with his best friend of twenty-three years.
And even if he did see that coming, he would have thought Hal would have the decency to stay for breakfast.
But as it is, Barry is waking up alone. And it hurts just as much as it did two years ago, the first morning after he and Iris decided to split.
He opens his eyes and squints against the light filtering through the curtains. From his position, he can see his clothes still strewn across the floor, but Hal’s are gone. He pushes down any hope he had that Hal might have actually woke up before him and was just in the bathroom or making coffee. Barry should know better anyway. Not once in the time they’ve known each other has Hal ever woken up before him.
He sighs and thinks back to two months ago, when Hal showed up on his doorstep with a duffle bag slung over his shoulder, recently evicted and needing a place to stay. At that point, it had been six months since Barry had last heard from him—even longer since they were face to face. They used to see each other at least once every few months when they were in their twenties and write letters in between. And with the growing and changing technology, cell phones, and social media, they were able to talk more and more often, and would as much as they could. But over the past few years, Barry saw and heard less and less of Hal until he figured Hal was getting tired of his old high school friend and was moving on. He said as much to him over coffee the day he showed up.
“Tired of you? Listen Bar, if that was the case, I think our roles would be reversed. Who could get tired of you?”
He remembers the fond look Hal gave him when he said that and the jump he felt in his chest at it, and how he wondered if it meant anything.
Probably not if Hal’s not here now.
And that thought hurts him even more. As much as he didn’t want to admit it then, he did carry a small torch for Hal when they were young. And he knows those feelings have resurfaced since they’ve been spending more time together. It doesn’t help that they’re basically living together (lived together?). Barry enjoyed the feeling of coming home to someone. After the amount of time he was alone, it was nice knowing there was someone there. Someone who cared and was happy to see him.
Wally stops by often enough, but it’s not the same. He has his own life, and technically he should no longer be a part of Barry’s but…
“Barry, you already have a kid! Wally’s your kid! You’ve taken more interest in him than his biological dad ever did and to me, that’s more important than donating a bit of sperm to make him.”
“Hal —“
“Seriously Bar. Look at how much you’ve influenced his life. He’s going into law enforcement ‘cause he wants to help people, his girlfriend is an aspiring journalist. He’s basically a mini you . ”
“You think?”
“Hell yeah! Well, minus the stick in the ass, but y’know .”
“Ha ha .”
A few weeks into his stay, Hal had finally breached the subject of Barry’s divorce. They had never discussed it much before, at least not enough to get into the reason. Barry had explained it to him simply: he wanted kids, Iris didn’t.
Hal thought it was a silly thing to split over, and this was his reasoning. Barry admits he’s never thought of his and Wally’s relationship that way, and the idea did make him feel better about being forty and childless, honestly.
Hal’s always had a knack for helping Barry see the silver lining. Unfortunately, he’s not here to do that now, and it’s too bad because Barry’s having a really hard time finding it this time around.
He sits up in bed, rubbing the remaining sleep from his eyes. Glancing at the alarm clock on the side table he sees it’s only seven in the morning. Hal must have left last night. He shifts and feels the mess left over on his stomach from their activities the night before and quickly decides a shower would be a good idea.
The silence in his apartment is almost deafening when he leaves his room. All it reminds him of is when he started living alone after the split, filling it with noise from the TV or radio, trying not to think about how he only had himself left for company.
He slowly makes his way to the bathroom and stops short for a moment when he sees leftover beer bottles from last night on the counter. He lets out a sigh and turns away.
--
“I’m telling you Bar; Coast City is where it’s at. The beach, the sun, the girls!” Hal pauses in dreamy thought, then points his beer to Barry, “No winter!”
Barry smiles from behind his own bottle, “I like winter…and I burn in the sun.”
Hal chokes on the sip he just took in laughter.
“Oh, fuck that’s right! Remember when you flew over for the week back in ’98. I’ve never seen someone get so red!”
Barry doesn’t reply, tries to hide the awkward feeling he gets from the mention of that week. Instead, he just turns his head up to gaze up at the night sky and tries not to blush too hard. He can see Hal smirk out of the corner of his eye.
“Yeah, something like that.” He grins. Barry just shakes his head at him, embarrassed. He wonders if Hal's thinking about that night too, and why, if he is, he would bring it up almost 20 years later. Their eyes meet again and Hal doesn't look away, just keep their gazes locked as he kicks his feet up onto the balcony railing.
“You’ve always been so blushy." he says casually, "‘Nother thing I remember from back then. You with girls. Always so bashful.”
The flush on Barry’s face persists at that, and he tries to shrug it off. He's uncomfortable. He wants to change the subject. He wants Hal to just say it, put it out in the open and force Barry to confront it as he does with everything else.
He sighs and shifts in his seat, shrugging.
“Not everyone can be a ladies man like you, bud.” He says, unsure of what else to say.
Hal smirks again around the lip of his beer. Barry watches closely, drags his gaze down the line of his throat to watch his Adam’s apple bob with every swallow.
He drags his eyes back up and catches Hal watching him, an easy smile stretched across his face.
“Maybe not a ladies man.” He drawls, gives Barry a small wink. It's all the confirmation Barry needs. He chuckles nervously and takes a long swig of beer before responding.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean back then,” Hal says, sly as ever, “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
Of course, he does. How could he not? He's been thinking about that night ever since Hal showed up on his doorstep two months ago (and before that. On those late, sleepless nights when stray thoughts of his friend drift through his mind).
He swallows hard. Takes another sip of beer. Gets a knowing look from across the balcony.
He clears his throat and says something he's not entirely sure is the best thing to say right now.
“I went on a date a few weeks before you got here,” he pauses, “with a guy.”
To his surprise, Hal actually looks shocked to hear that. Barry's not sure if it's the guy part, the date part, or even a jealous part that caught him off-guard enough to react that way.
“Barry Allen went on a date?” Hal sits up in his chair, “With a dude of all people?!”
His beer overflows when he slams it onto the table. Barry might have even thought to take it away from him if he wasn’t so offended.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Hal shrugs, gestures with his hands at Barry as if that explains anything.
“Well, like I said, you don’t really have the charm—“
“With girls! You said I can’t charm girls!”
Barry realizes what it sounds like, trying to defend his man-charming powers to Hal, but by this point, he’s buzzed enough not to really think about it too much. Hal’s looking at him like he’s thinking the same thing.
“Bar—“
“It worked pretty well on you.”
Hal’s eyes widen. That’s the first time Barry’s ever outright acknowledged what really happened that weekend. It's the first time either of them has said anything out loud about it. Hal leans back into his chair and keeps his eyes on his friend, but lets them soften.
“Yeah. I guess you’re right.” He says, slowly. He brings up a hand to brush through his hair and sighs.
Barry looks away, flush creeping back onto his face. Hal’s still watching him, fingers tapping rhythmically on his own leg. He bites his lip.
“You always did charm the pants off me.” He jokes, but grows serious quickly, “Or you could have…if you tried.”
Barry doesn’t look back at him, but Hal can see his eyebrows raise toward his hairline.
They’re silent for what seems like forever, Hal unmoving and Barry subconsciously picking the label off his beer bottle.
Barry clears his throat, "You kind of did that for me."
He hears Hal huff out a small chuckle beside him and smiles too. He looks up and their eyes meet for a split second before they look away again. Barry's the one who speaks next.
“It’s late,” he says thickly, “We should…head inside.”
He wets his lips and gives Hal a pointed, heated look and it’s all Hal needs.
--
Barry doesn’t remember when he drifted back off to sleep after his shower. All he knows now is that his mind is filled with a drowsy haze and he can vaguely hear someone shuffling around the room.
The momentary panic that courses through him is quickly replaced by confusion and vague resentment when he feels the bed dip and an arm wrap around his middle. Hal all but plasters himself against his back, and Barry tries his hardest to stay mad at him.
“You’re back.” He mumbles. Hal stiffens, probably expecting that Barry was still asleep.
“How long have you been awake?” he asks. Barry shifts to face him. He can smell the remnants of alcohol on Hal’s breath, but it’s something a little harder than the beers they had last night.
“Long enough.” He replies.
Hal ducks his head away and pulls his arms back. Barry doesn’t remember the last time he saw Hal look guilty. He’s so shameless and straightforward, Barry’s not entirely sure he’s ever seen him this way.
Hal’s eyes meet his again, and Barry thinks he might actually see tears in them.
“I’m sorry,” Hal says quietly.
Barry’s not really sure how to respond to that. He’s upset, but so relieved that Hal came back, so he keeps his mouth shut and just nods. That seems to make things worse. Hal looks even guiltier like he thinks he screwed up even more by coming back.
Barry lifts his hand to place it over Hal’s, strokes his thumb across the thin skin of his knuckles.
“You came back.”
It comes out as more of a question than a statement. Hal grabs the hand stroking his and nods.
“Yeah,” he says, watching their hands, “Yeah, I had to. I—“
He stops, eyes darting back up after a moment. Barry sees something pleading in them that breaks his heart. He gives Hal a small smile, and nods at him show he's listening, that he wants to hear what Hal has to say. That he cares.
It takes Hal a moment, but then he starts to speak and it’s like the floodgates opened on years and years of pent-up frustrations and emotions.
“I just—I’ve wanted that so badly ever since we... But I knew—we live so far away from each other, I knew it would never work out. Not to mention you’d never want someone so fucked up—“
“Hal-"
“You deserved better.” He says, a little too forcefully, “You deserved someone who had a future, who could be there for you…and then you met Iris and I had Carol. It was easier to let you go, seeing you with someone as good for you as Iris.”
There’s an edge to his voice now and all Barry wants to do is stop him, drag the blanket over both of them and hide from the world. But he can't stop this, it's too important for the both of them.
“And things were good for a while…well, as good as they could be for me anyway. But these past couple of months, everything just came back. And last night," he pauses, swallowing hard, "I thought by bringing that night up I forced you into something you didn’t actually want.”
This surprises Barry. While he’s always been a bit too shy to be open with his feelings, he’s always been pretty terrible at hiding them. He figured with the way Hal propositioned him last night that he knew how much Barry wanted it.
Then again, this is Hal. Barry knows he never really believed that anyone really cared for him, no matter how much Barry tried to show him otherwise.
But this doesn't make sense to him. If Hal thought Barry didn't want it, that he had made a mistake...
“Why did you come back then?”
Hal brings their still entwined hands up to rest on his chest.
“I couldn’t do that to you. I know it’s been hard for you since the split. I kept thinking about you waking up alone and I didn’t want to put you through that again.”
His eyebrows pinched together in a way that looks almost pained.
“Guess I fucked that up, too.”
Barry frowns.
“You were hoping to come back before I realized you left?” he asks. Hal looks a bit sheepish, at that. Barry thinks it’s pretty amazing that he can make Hal feel uncomfortable.
“Yeah…I even got some donuts and coffee in case you had, but I knew you’d figure it out anyway.” He says. The corner of his mouth quirks upward, and the lines that appear on his cheek accentuate the stubble there.
“I know you too well.” Barry finishes for him, and it earns him a small smile. Their hands are tapped once against Hal’s chest.
“Better than anyone.”
They fall silent for a moment. Barry’s a bit overwhelmed if he’s being honest. He didn't really think about how things were going to go the morning after, and he was too busy wallowing in self-pity to even consider it earlier on. He’s not quite sure where they stand, if Hal wants to continue like nothing ever happened, or if they’re going to go for it. He’s not entirely sure if he’s ready for that. The date he went on a few months ago was too out of his element as it was. Let alone trying something with his best friend…
He gazes over at Hal again. Takes in his profile and thinks of everything they’ve been through together. Everything from late night sleepovers when they were teens, to getting crappy fast food burgers at three in the morning, to the quiet nights spent on his balcony, gazing at the stars. It won’t be that much different, but at the same time, it’ll be completely different.
Hal must sense his inner turmoil, and it’s a huge statement to the bond they share that he knows exactly what Barry’s thinking. He frowns and lifts himself to hover over Barry on one arm.
“Listen, Bar.” He starts, “I know I’m not made for relationships, but I want to try…with you. I just—I don’t…”
It’s jarring, hearing Hal say he wants a relationship. Barry’s half thinking he’s been replaced with an impostor.
But it is Hal. It is him, saying these things and Barry thinks if Hal wants this then he can try too.
“Yeah,” He says and brings a hand up to hesitantly rest it on Hal’s cheek, "Yeah I want that, too."
Hal lets go of a heavy breath. A smile stretches across his face and Barry matches it. His hand comes up to brush the short hairs at Barry’s temple, and he sighs again.
“I just don’t want to lose you.” He admits.
“You could have lost me by leaving.” Barry counters.
“You would have forgiven me.”
Barry smiles, shrugging.
“Yeah.” he says, letting his grin show his teeth, “I always do, don’t I?”
Hal chuckles. The hand stroking Barry’s hair stops and rests firmly against his head. His eyes soften and dart down a moment to Barry's lips.
Barry knows what happens next, and it’s something he’s now realizing he’s been craving for the past eighteen years.
Hal kisses him, softly. Lips parted slightly, tongue darting out just to taste. Then with more force, teeth biting and tugging at a lower lip. It sends a spike of heat through Barry’s veins.
They part. Barry’s eyes open again and he’s breathless.
“I do have one condition,” he mumbles, licks his lip, “for us being together.”
Hal’s eyes follow the motion of his tongue, a cocked eyebrow the only indicator that he’s listening.
“Mmm, what’s that?”
Barry grins cheekily, “You have to bring me those donuts.”
Hal blinks at him, then glares.
“Are you fuckin’ serious?”
“Yes. Right now." Barry says, pulling back from him, "I’m starving.”
Hal shoves him hard enough that he almost falls off the bed, but gets up anyway, and beelines to the kitchen.
“You dork.” He tosses over his shoulder as he heads out the door.
“It’s my charm,” Barry calls back.
He lies back into his pillows and feels happy and anxious and dazed all at once. The box of donuts is dropped onto his stomach not a few moments later and is quickly followed by a mass of muscle and tanned skin. He wonders how he never once imagined this future for himself.