Archive of Our Own ^beta

Loving Barry Allen was easy. He made it easy without having to lift a single finger or spare it a single thought.

From the moment they met, through a badly placed construct during a spontaneous several hero team-up that had caused the speedster to trip and tumble across the street, knocking Hal over into a heap on the ground, he had been radiant. Barry had jumped up, pulling Hal with him, brushing the concrete dust off of them as he apologized for running into him, even though it was Hal’s fault. They had been lectured after the villain was apprehended by Superman and Wonder Woman for standing around during a fight and paying attention to their surroundings, but the small smile that he was sent made the disappointed look Batman gave him worth it, lighting up the evening more than the streetlights that had survived the fight.

He was wicked smart, ridiculously funny in that nerdy way of his, insanely kind and loyal despite what life had thrown at him, and unimaginably beautiful, though Hal let the thought pass his mind only from time to time over the course of their friendship, choosing to focus on his friend, Barry, instead of his potential boyfriend, Barry.

They met up both in and out of costume, much to Batman’s chagrin, since if someone paid close enough attention to civilians Hal and Barry and noticed how close Green Lantern and the Flash were, they might as well have kissed their secret identities goodbye, so much so that some gossip magazines had taken to wondering if there was something more going on between the emerald knight and the scarlet speedster. Hal, who had found the article while doing a google search of himself, showed it to Barry, the two of them laughing into their burgers, joking about what wasn’t.

It didn’t remain a “wasn’t” for long.

After a time, and Iris and Barry had split but agreed to remain friends and Carol had broken it off with Hal for the last time, their feelings began to shift.

Hal considered Barry one of his closest friends, like he did Oliver, but in a different way. Ollie was like a brother to him, but the thought of calling Barry the same caused a shiver of disgust to go down his spine. The closest he could get to describing the feeling he had when around Barry was what it used to be like around Carol, where he didn’t have to put up a front to show the world, and just felt relaxed. Free, and safe. Shielded.

Barry, he had revealed later, one evening while curled up on a blanket under the stars, had been drawn in almost since the very beginning, awestruck by the man behind the ring, with his cocky smile, fierce need to protect, and heart of gold. His affection for Hal, that he had believed to be one-sided, hadn’t been the reason for his break-up with Iris, but it had been a contributing factor, on both of their parts.

But Barry, with a crimson blush adorning his cheeks, carrying a rose that had seen better days, likely from traveling across the country at superspeed, had been the sight that met Hal one afternoon as he left Ferris Air. Barry had thrust the flower towards him, and, stumbling slightly over his words, had asked Hal if he wanted to get coffee sometimes, or get dinner and catch a movie. He had almost left to avoid the embarrassment of hearing Hal say no, starting to speed away to go cry to Iris or some of his friends from work, when Hal reached out to stop him, brain finally coming back online, registering that maybe Barry wanted the same thing, felt the same way he did.

Hal had agreed, taking the rose with a matching blush on his own face, smiling shyly at Barry, who promised to figure out the best course of action for their first date with a grin before he disappeared.

The date had been wonderful, a picnic in a park in Central City, near a duck pond with a glowing fountain in the middle, the basket filled with fancy homemade sandwiches, a container of fruit, and a couple chilled bottles of sparkling grape juice. Barry had also come prepared with a list of what he called “typical first-date questions” to get to know each other, and though they already knew each other really well, it was incredibly endearing. It had started raining as they were finishing eating, and they had giggled like schoolboys as they packed the basket again and ran for cover, drenched when they made it back to Barry’s house, hair plastered to their foreheads and smiles across their lips.

Barry had insisted that Hal change into a clean set of loungewear after he toweled off so Barry could run their clothes through the wash, so Hal would have his own dry clothes to wear back home. They had watched Star Trek Episode IV: The Voyage Home, throwing quotes and jokes back and forth, shushing each other when they got to their favorite parts so the actors’ voices were clear, ending the night with a quick kiss before Hal, clad in his dried clothes and glowing green uniform, set off back to Coast City.

There was something in the way, after Hal had moved into Barry’s home with him, that without needing to really talk, they could manage a household and make meals that would satisfy the pair, really spoke to how effortlessly in tune with each other that they were. In the kitchen, when they both were available and able to cook, with neither working either of their two jobs or sleeping off a long shift, they had their typical tasks, Hal manning the stove or whatever needed to be cooked in an appliance, Barry chopping up vegetables, but could easily switch between the two, to the point that eventually, if they switched who was using a knife, it almost seemed like there had just been one person using it all along.

They typically didn’t agree on what channel they set the small radio on the corner of the counter to, Hal preferring rock over the jazz that Barry listened to, but if there was something in the oven, or nothing on the stove that could burn at a moments notice, and a slow song came on the radio, Hal would sweep Barry into his arms and begin swaying from side to side, singing the lyrics to him quietly. Barry would return the action, though less often, whenever a particularly lovely Elvis or Sinatra song would come on, twirling him around the island, dipping him low at the end of the song before pulling him back up into a kiss.

It was in the way that that Barry would pull his legs over his lap when they were watching television together, absentmindedly kneading at his calves as Hal dangled a shoelace over the side of the couch, trying to get the attention of their kitten, Goose, so she would play with him. Goose, however, preferred Barry’s company to his, and would either demand his attention by meowing loudly until either Barry moved Hal’s lower legs off of his lap to make room for the demanding ginger feline, or picked her up to place on top of his legs, where she would push at his lounge pants until she was comfortable, her little claws digging just through the fabric.

The cat, though she was technically Hal’s, since Barry had given her to him as a birthday present, was taken care of mostly by Barry, since Hal couldn’t very well take her on space missions with him, but he was also the one more likely to spoil her with toys and treats, and she knew it. When Hal came home from space, she expected things from him and would try to use the same tricks that worked on Barry on him, but they all failed. He thought Goose was just being affectionate in the way that cats did, where they would stay around until they had had enough attention, but he had seen her do the same to Barry, and receive a small treat in response, like a Pavlovian reaction.

Barry was fantastic with kids, both in and out of costume, with those he did and didn’t know previously. Wally loved visiting them, in part because of Goose, who he was actually allergic to and wasn’t allowed to play with unless he took his medication, but also because his Uncle Barry always had some new story about the Flash and was always willing to play the villain when Wally wanted to play heroes, complete with a laugh that sounded eerily similar to the Trickster's.

As the Flash, on several occasions, Hal had seen him cheer up a child crying for a missing parent with a piece of candy and got them talking about something they found interesting as he looked for their parent and brought them back together, leaving the kid giggling and their parent thanking him before he left with a smile and wave, a trail of yellow lightning in his wake.

Hal knew he loved the speedster long before Barry got down on one knee during dinner one night, pulling a green velvet box out of his pocket, eyes twinkling as he opened it, revealing a golden band with green and red stones in it, asking if Hal would marry him. If Hal were a prouder man, he would deny the tears that came to his eyes that night, but he was secure enough in his own masculinity to acknowledge that he had cried a bit that night; they both had, their first kiss as an engaged couple tasting of red wine and the salt of happy tears. Barry, however, after they had finished dessert one-handed, the others clasped, with a new ring sitting on Hal’s finger, had bounced off into the living room, declaring that Hal would be the one to clean up since Barry had set up the meal, calling out a quick “My ring, my rules!” before Hal began arguing it.

He was understanding and lovingly protective, able to rouse Hal from his nightmares and soothe him back into slumber easily, never questioning what caused it, only how he could help. Barry had them too, and he could do the same without needing a second thought. As heroes, especially people who had witnessed the death of one of their parents at such an early age, they did have nightmares often, but after the ones that were really bad, sometimes they would just lay in bed together, Barry warm against Hal’s side as he filled out a crossword puzzle from the giant book that Clark had given him, Hal playing a trivia game on his phone to thoroughly distract himself, the only noises in the room the scratching of Barry’s pink gel pen and the little questioning noises he made while he thought. And in the morning, either after they had woken back up, or once it was an acceptable time for breakfast and they could drag themselves out of the safety of the covers, they would make breakfast, calling in sick to work, and spend the day together with Goose, playing board games or putting together the impossible to solve puzzles they bought online.

Even after Hal would be gone in space for months at a time for whatever the Guardians wanted him to do as Green Lantern, Barry would simply welcome him back home with a smile, kiss, and a home cooked meal before curling up with him in bed to let him sleep. Hal knew that it was hard on Barry, him being gone all the time and having an erratic schedule for when he was home and when he had to leave at a moments notice, since his blue alien bosses didn’t seem to understand that he had an entire life outside of being a space cop, but he didn’t complain.

To Hal, Barry was perfect, and everything he wasn’t.

“I can’t do this, I can’t do this, I can’t do this.” He paced the dressing room, tugging at his tie and cufflinks, running his fingers through his carefully styled hair, catching a glimpse of himself in the floor length mirror every so often, noting the panic in his green eyes with the golden spot near the iris in the left, that Barry joked was a sign that the two of them were destined.

Oliver and Guy each looked up at him, ignoring his miniature freak out for the third time that day, turning back to the game of cards they were playing. Guy seemed to be playing poker, if the pile of beads in front of him was any indication, but Ollie, from what he had been doing with the deck, was playing a modified game of gin.

“Just calm down, Jesus, Jordan. Take a seat, stop messing with your hair, and put your suit jacket on.” Guy laid his hand of cards out in front of himself. “Ha! Read ‘em and weep, bow boy. Full house!”

Oliver squinted and put his own cards down. “Full house? I thought we were playing gin, not poker.”

“Gin was the last game. Keep up, old man. Jordan, I can’t believe you picked this guy to be your best man over me. Unbelievable. Even Kilowog is better at cards than this.”

“Okay, cool, you guys are bad at cards, great. Can we get back to my problem? What if he doesn’t show up? What if he’s late? Barry’s always late! I can’t be left at the altar; Carol and Tom would never let me live it down!”

Guy breathed in, held it for a second, and released it in a short burst before standing up, determination shining in his eerily pale eyes. He grabbed Hal by the shoulders and spun him into the seat he had just vacated, glaring at him when he tried to get back up. “Sit the fuck down, Hal, before you wear a hole in the floor.”

Hal worried at his bottom lip. “Ol, did you worry that Dinah would leave you?”

The blond shrugged, shuffling the cards. “Why should I have?”

“Because Dinah is too good for you like Barry’s too good for me.”

Oliver sighed and turned fully to face his friend. “Hal, Barry and I might not see eye-to-eye on basically anything, and I’m not the guy’s biggest supporter, but he loves you, and he would not run away from this.” He stood, slipping the cards into his pocket and straightening Hal’s suit quickly. “Alright, your hair is artfully tousled, I guess. Now, it’s time. Ready?”

“If I say no?”

“I’ll tell you it’s not an option. You’re marrying your beau whether you think you’re ready or not.” Guy led them out of the room and walked through the door that would put him on Hal’s side of the altar, at the same time that Clark walked in on Barry’s side.

“Good luck.” Oliver, the jerk, with a wink and a salute, walked through the door a few seconds after Guy.

He took a breath to steel himself and adjusted his white suit jacket and green shirt, opening the door and stepping through as the music changed to the wedding march. With the way the chapel was set up, he wouldn’t be able to see Barry until they reached the altar, and he could feel his heart racing as he tried not to stumble and trip. His gaze dropped to his shoes, and as he moved past where his groomsmen and best man were standing, his gaze fell on the special dress shoes that he knew Barry owned, since they were temperature and friction resistant, and he smiled.

He slowly lifted his head, looking appreciatively up Barry’s black slacks, red blazer, and white shirt, to his face, Barry looking over him as well, a large smile on his face, tears shining in his eyes. He was beautiful.

Barry was known for running, but he hadn’t run from this. He was here.

Loving Barry Allen was easy, and Hal would for the rest of his life.