Archive of Our Own

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Fixation: an obsessive interest in or feeling about someone or something or the action of making something firm or stable.
Hal knew, logically, that he had a problem. One did not come to be hiding naked in their anthropology professor’s closet without some significant issue. Said professor was attempting to talk their unexpected guest into leaving, but something deep within Hal felt dirty, used. He sighed audibly. He didn’t know why he was surprised. This was starting to become a pattern. Perhaps he was drawn to Dr. Thaal Sinestro because of some deep-seated self-hatred that led him to hiding in a closet like last season’s khakis.After what felt like hours the woman seemingly incapable of taking a hint left. Hal peaked through the crack in the closet door to see Sinestro sighing, running his hand through his thick black hair. It was almost humanizing. Hal had only seen this man as a stern professor or as an even sterner lover. Somehow, this depressed him more.Hal jumped a little when Sinestro opened the doors, smiling at him apologetically. “That woman does not read people well. Which is disconcerting given that she teaches psychology.” Sinestro’s mouth curved upward, smiling at his own joke. Hal tried to smile back, but his heart wasn’t in it.“Where were we?” Sinestro purred, wrapping an arm around Hal’s waist and pulling him from the closet. Hal did not resist but he was pretty sure that his lack of interest was clear. Sinestro leaned forward to lick at his neck, a usual favourite. Hal simply went limp, only groaning when his knees started to feel weak from standing for too long. Maybe he could just push his emotions aside long enough to get off. It wouldn’t be the first time. Sinestro paused. He slowly lifted his head from the crook of Hal’s neck and looked him in the eyes. Not for the first time, Hal noticed that his lover’s hazel eyes looked either green or yellow, depending on the lighting in the room. Today they actually contained some form of emotion, which was surprising. “Jordan? Hal?” Sinestro asked. “Are you alright?” “Oh yeah,” Hal scoffed, “I’m peachy. I just love being shoved into a closet with no pants on. It really gets me going.” “I’m sorry about that, but...” Sinestro looked a little apologetic, which was almost insulting. “I can’t lose my tenure, Hal. You know that.” Hal rolled his eyes. He’d heard this same shtick many times before. If Sinestro cared so much about tenure, he wouldn’t have started this...thing. “Yeah, sure, whatever.” Hal looked away. “I’m just your dirty little secret, is that it?” Sinestro gave him a pointed look. “I don’t appreciate that insinuation.” “Too fucking bad,” Hal snapped, “because I didn’t appreciate being stuffed into a closet for fifteen minutes.” “I thought we talked about this when we first started this relationship--” “Relationship? That’s rich. I’ve never been on a date with you, or met your friends, or done anything remotely romantic with you. This isn’t a relationship. You don’t love me.” No one really does, Hal added bitterly in his head. He regretted even saying the “L” word, but it was too late to take it back. “Hal,” Sinestro said, as gently as he could, “we’ve only been intimate for a few months. We don’t know each other well enough for love yet.” Hal blinked away tears. Just fucking typical. Sinestro was right, of course, but it still hurt. He was someone else’s dirty secret, not even worth getting to know, not even worth any deeper connection than the physical. “You know what, fuck you.”Sinestro raised an eyebrow. “What?” “I’m out of here.” Hal stomped across the room to his discarded clothes, pulling them back on with enough force to slightly rip his t-shirt. “I’m done with this shit.” “Hal?” Sinestro sounded actually surprised. “What are you doing?” “I’m leaving,” Hal spat, “that’s what I’m doing.” Sinestro groaned. “Oh, stop being so childish Jordan, I’m only pointing out the facts.” “The facts are that you don’t give a shit about me,” Hal snarled, “and I’m done.” Hal wanted Sinestro to stop him, give him some indication that he cared. Sinestro simply stood still, staring at him awkwardly do up his belt. The professor didn’t seem angry, sad, or even annoyed. Hal wiped his tears on the back of his hand, flipped off Sinestro, and stormed out of his lover's condo, slamming the door behind him. It wasn’t until he got to his car that he realized that he left his underwear inside. He wasn’t going back to get it. He needed to maintain some dignity.

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Reputation: the beliefs or opinions that are generally held about someone or something.
 All Hal Jordan ever wanted to do was fly. Like a lot of kids, he idolized his father. Martin Jordan was a hero to all three of his sons, his legacy immortalized as a test pilot, family man, and soldier. Hal supposed that was an after-effect of dying young. Jessica Jordan never let her children hear a bad word about their father after he died, though she had choice words for Ferris Aircraft. Jim and Jack loved Martin in their own way but quickly stopped wanting to be just like him. But Hal never grew out of it. He was going to fly, just like Daddy. Even though Dad had been out of the air force for years before he died, Jessica never lost touch with her military wife friends. It was almost as if they never left the base. The Jordan family lived in Coast City, but their little neighbourhood was made up of mostly military families. Everybody knew everybody. That was where the problems started. *** The first time Hal Jordan was called a faggot, he was in elementary school. Of course, it was over something stupid. He didn’t want to share his cookies at lunchtime with Danny Stedman and subsequently got called a rude name, one so rude that the lunchroom supervisor grabbed the offending brat by the arm and dragged him from the room. Hal asked his mother what it meant later, while his brothers watched TV in the next room. Jessica Jordan sat at the table reading a book and watching the timer for supper’s meatloaf ticking down. Hal coloured absentmindedly, more focused on finding an answer to his question than his colouring page depicting a kitten playing baseball. He wanted to see if the next instance of being called faggot warranted a punch to the face. Not that punching Danny was a bad idea. His mother told him never to say it because it was a cruel word. “But Mom,” Hal protested, pouting as he poked at his colouring book with a blue marker, “what does it mean ?” “Hal,” Jessica put down her book and glanced at Jim and Jack, who were still watching Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, then back to Hal, “you’re too young to understand what that word means. It’s just not an okay word.” “But why is it mean?” Hal whined, wondering why he had been called a faggot if it was so awful. Jessica sighed. “You know the words Ms. Wilton told you about on Martin Luther King Jr. day?” Hal nodded eagerly. “Well, the word that other kid called you is a very similar word, but for gay people.” “What’s gay?” Hal asked, laying his markers on the table. He stared intently at his mother and watched as she struggled to find words, her brow furrowing and her fingers tapping on the table. “It’s a dude who likes dudes,” Jack yelled from the living room. Jim told Jack to shut up and stop interrupting TMNT. Jessica told Jim to speak to his brother with more respect, quickly turning back to Hal. “A gay person is a person who loves people who are the same gender as them. Your brother is half right, but ladies who love ladies are gay as well, but they're also called lesbians. Some people don’t like when other people love that way, so they use rude words like...well, like “faggot” to insult them. That’s why you shouldn’t say it.” “Oh,” Hal said, retreating into his thoughts, contemplating the word in a new way. “So why did he call me that word then? I’m not gay.” The timer went off, filling the room with an obnoxious electronic chime. Jessica sighed and stood up. “I  don’t know, Hal. To that other little boy, it was probably just a word. He probably didn’t know what it meant. Can you set the table, honey?” This answer satisfied Hal. He finished his picture and got up to set the table for supper. “Danny’s pretty dumb anyway. He doesn’t know what most words mean.” “Danny? The Stedman’s boy?” Jessica set the meatloaf on the counter. She pulled back the curtains and looked out the window at the identical house across the alley from them. “I’m calling his mother. He keeps stealing Jim’s lunch money too. Honestly, if he keeps up acting like this he’s never going anywhere in life.” Hal stopped, setting the forks down and glancing at his mom. “But if someone is gay, that’s okay, right?” Jessica, who had already grabbed the phone affixed to the kitchen wall, looked at Hal in surprise. Hal noticed the lines around her eyes for the first time. She sighed. “Of course, Harold.” Hal nodded, turning back to the tableware. *** The Ferris family was a staple at the Jordan household. Jessica refused to speak to Carl, but Christine was still very close with the entire family. Christine and Carol came over whenever Carl left town for business trips, Carol usually bringing a game of some sort that the boys had never seen. Jack ignored her, for the most part, playing the game but not really interacting either. He was too good to play with “kids stuff”. Jim was madly in love with Carol and hung on every word she said. Hal just thought she was the coolest person he had ever met. She had cool hair and a loud laugh. More importantly, she knew everything about planes. The four kids enjoyed biking to the playground near the house. Jim and Jack would play on the monkey bars and Carol and Hal would swing together, talking.   “I just want to fly,” Hal told her one day, kicking his legs out to try to go higher. “It’s all I want. Even when I’m on the swings I feel like things make more sense.” Carol laughed. “We’re like, 11. I don’t know how you can know what you want to do already. My Dad is always telling me that I’m going to take over the company. I don’t even know if I want to. I have no idea what I want!” She kicked at the rocks under the swing. “You don’t have to do what he wants,” Hal said, looking back up at the sky. “But I get it. I don’t know what I want either.” Carol scoffed. “What do you even mean? You already know you want to be a pilot.” “I don’t know much else,” Hal admitted, slowing to a stop. He looked out at the playground. His brothers seemed so carefree, chasing each other around and pushing each other. The sky seemed so open, blue faintly streaked with oranges, purples and pinks. Even Carol, lost as she was about her future, was so confident and self-assured. Hal just felt empty, sometimes. “My Mom won’t ever let me join the airforce. I feel weird all the time. I just feel...lost, I guess.” “I hate that our parents think they can control our lives like this.” She groaned, trying to slow her swinging. “I hate it. I just want to be able to have fun and do my own stuff. Adults suck.”“Yeah,” Hal agreed, staring at his feet, “but I still don’t know what to do.” “It’s okay,” Carol stopped beside him. “No matter what happens, I’ll be your friend. We can figure it out together.” Hal smiled at her and reached out his hand. She gave him a fist bump. Hal felt less empty, but the confusion still swirled inside him like a storm. ***Hal didn’t give the word “faggot” much thought again until puberty. He heard the word all the time in the music Jack listened to, but it didn’t really bother him. He was always too busy, too focused on sports or planes or cartoons. Neither girls nor boys were interesting to him for most of his childhood. They were fine enough pals, yeah, but he was way more excited to watch the ballgame on TV or play kickball after school with his friends. Then he started growing. Everything hurt all the time and he was so hungry. He felt weird all the time, too. He had a funny feeling every time he saw a pretty girl or a cute boy. It couldn’t be normal, he'd thought, he wasn’t gay. Jack, being the loving older brother he was, told Hal he was turning into a werewolf. Jessica quickly corrected Jack but wasn’t able to explain what was happening either. She bought him books instead. The weird books she got him said it was normal to like girls, and he did, very much. He was just starting to notice Carol, his oldest and probably prettiest friend. Her hair was quickly recategorized from “cool” to “gorgeous”. The book also mentioned that some boys liked boys, and that was fine. Hal also realized, when he was watching an interview with Ryan Reynolds on TV, that he really liked boys too. His books didn’t say anything about liking both.  Hal soon became convinced that something was wrong with him. He tried to ask his teacher. She informed him that sometimes kids get confused in puberty and then grow out of it and said little else on the subject. This seemed reasonable to him, as he felt confused most of the time. The teacher told him that, if he was confused like that, one day he’d realize how lovely girls could be and he wouldn’t be lost anymore. Jessica talked to Hal after he told her what he learned at school that day. She said that some people are gay and some people are straight and that was okay. Being different doesn't mean being lost, she said. She didn’t mention liking both. Hal asked if people grew out of being gay. Jessica told him that people sometimes question whether or not they’re gay, but as they realize who they are they are less confused. Hal figured he’d grow out of it, then, if he was just confused. Yeah, that was it. He’d meet a nice girl when he was older. Maybe he’d get married to Carol. It would be okay.  It would. It had to be. ***“Hal Jordan, you are the worst!” The cheerleader stamped her foot, her face turning red. What was her name again? God, it was so hard to remember. All the girls on the squad wore the same clothes, even out of uniform. Ballerina flats with leggings and a long sweater. What was it with those long sweaters? Was it more comfortable? Hal shook his head. What’s-her-face was still staring at him with a look that said she was considering kicking him. Hal shifted to the side. “I am, am I?” he smirked, turning on the charm. “That’s not what you said yesterday, Katie.” The girl clenched her fist. “My name is Ashley, you colossal ass!” Ooooh. That was the problem. It was all so clear. “I can’t believe you tried to go out with three girls at once and made no effort to hide it. You’re so stupid.” “You all look the same, you can’t really blame me.” Hal scoffed. He did feel bad, though. Now that he remembered her name, it was all coming back. He made out with Ashley at a party and said he’d call her on Monday. It was now Thursday. He also made out with Katie at the same party, and he did call her, thinking it was Ashley. This is what happened when you stayed drunk most of the weekend, apparently. He also made out with Kimberly, and he texted her a couple of times. They were all interesting girls. Katie collected vintage bottle openers. Kimberly helped her parents foster rescue dogs, she wanted to be a vet. Ashley liked old German movies and she knew how to sail. God, any one of them would be a great girlfriend. But he went and fucked it up.  Like he did everything. “You’re...you know what, Hal? I think you have problems.” Ashley frowned. “You need to work on yourself because you’re a fucking mess.” Hal smirked. “I’m not the one screaming at some guy who didn’t call them in the middle of a hallway.” He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder at the crowd gathering. “I may have problems, but at least I’m not a spaz.” Some guy hooted. A frown briefly crossed Hal’s face, but he plastered the swagger back on. No weaknesses. No cracks. Ashley flipped him the bird and stormed off. A few people made “oooh” sounds and Hal’s shoulders slumped for a minute. This wasn’t working. He couldn’t keep this up. Not for much longer. But he could for today. He slung his backpack over his shoulder, noting the clink of empty bottles in his backpack. He tried to stay sober at school,  but he was going to replenish his “after-school special” as soon as possible.*** Carol found him. She usually did. His oldest friend knew his habits well. If he wasn’t drinking he was running up and down the bleachers or doing push-ups in the grass or some other workout. His mother wondered why he didn’t go to the gym. Hal hated the change room more than almost anything else. He felt like the instant he stepped into the smelly room, a neon sign over his head lit up reading “I’m a queer”. No, the deserted bleachers were safer. He could change in the bathroom and complete his workout with a run home to shower. Carol shielded her eyes from the sun, staring up at Hal coming down the bleacher stairs. “You’re a real piece of work, you know that, right?” “Nice to see you too, Carol.” Hal panted. “What do you want?” “That was a really shitty thing you did, playing those girls like that.” Carol frowned. “I don’t get it, Hal. The other guys are only after ass but you actually liked Ash and Katie and Kim. I know you did. But you treat them almost as bad.” “Why is it any of your damn business?” Hal asked, dropping to the grass to do push-ups. Maybe Carol would take a hint, but that was unlikely. “Were you drunk all weekend again?” Carol asked. Hal said nothing. “Oh my God, you were. Hal, what the hell?” “I got invited to a lot of parties, so I was busy all weekend. Because I actually have a social life.” Hal got up and tried to run back up the bleachers. Carol followed. “I get invited to the same parties but I don’t get 'Hal Jordaned'.” Hal stopped. “What does that mean?” “Completely wrecked.” Carol raised an eyebrow. “Totally wasted. Take your pick.”“Haha, you're so funny.” Hal rolled his eyes. He moved to start running again but stopped himself. Carol was staring at him. Not in an angry way, which he expected, but in an almost sad way. Like his mom looked at him. “What?” “Hal, what’s going on with you? Ever since sophomore year you’ve been always drunk or belligerent and screwing somebody new every week. Your grades are great, yeah, but you’ll never get into the air force if you keep acting like such an idiot.” “What, are you concerned or something?” Hal scoffed. “Yeah, I am,” Carol said with no hint of annoyance or frustration or even humour. “I feel like I don’t even know you anymore, and I’ve known you forever.” “It’s…” Would Carol understand? Would she tell his mom out of ‘concern’? No, he couldn’t tell her. He just couldn’t. “Don’t worry about it, Carol. I’ll figure it out.” Carol sighed. She didn’t believe him. “Whatever, Hal. I’ll see you later.” She turned and walked off, not looking back over her shoulder. Hal watched her long black hair swish behind her as she left. He knew Carol was looking out for him, but he couldn’t tell her. She wouldn’t get it.She wouldn’t know why he was still so confused. He should have figured this out years ago. *** Hal liked girls, but guys were different. At least, the ones he knew were. They didn’t want to wine and dine. Okay, maybe the “wine” part. The guys at his high school were straight-laced army brats, some living in a civilian area for the first time in forever. Their parents knew his parents. Some knew his brothers. They were clean-cut, all American boys. Mostly older than him. Athletes, student council types. But they liked to drink, and they weren’t as straight-laced as they seemed. All it took was a little booze and Hal knew he was getting lucky. Granted, he was usually blitzed too. He didn’t usually feel sick until after. It usually started at a bush party or something, too much booze and too little supervision. Hal would arrive with his friends already buzzed and would pal around for a bit, be one of the guys. At some point, somebody would get him alone. He was an easy drunk. Sometimes he wondered how bad his reputation was, but it didn’t matter when he had a tongue in his throat or a cock in his mouth. Girls liked to face you, but the guys he knew liked to fool around from behind. Maybe it was easier for them to imagine a girl that way. He always took it because it was the only way these guys wanted to play. They were gay enough to fuck a guy in their backseat, but not gay enough to have something up their butt. It was sad, almost. Sometimes Hal cried during. At least if he was face down they wouldn’t see it.Sometimes they wouldn’t remember his name and sometimes he wouldn’t tell them. It was how he treated girls, after all. He was a jerk. It was what he deserved. When Chad or Steve or whoever finished Hal would drink until he blacked out. If he fucked more guys while he was out he didn’t know, but it was easier that way. If the guys could call it a drunk mistake, so could he. He wasn’t gay, after all. He wasn’t really sure what he was. When Jack picked him up at the end of the night he always looked concerned but said nothing. Hal usually had a few hickeys and a wicked hangover the next day. His Mom tried to talk to him, but he couldn’t tell her. He was already joining the airforce as soon as he was out of high school. Having a faggot son would just hurt her even more. She didn’t want to send him to treatment, either. In her eyes that would disgrace his father’s memory--that’s what she told Jack when she thought Hal was passed out. Hal was already a disgrace, and he knew that. That’s why he had to fly. He just had to. To show that his father’s legacy was more than a drunk miserable queer.

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Complication: something that introduces, usually unexpectedly, some difficulty, problem, change, etc.
Hal Jordan graduated with honours and stayed sober for his graduation ceremony. Before the ceremony, he handed out a rose to all the girls he had hurt during his high school career. Some threw it back in his face, but most accepted with a smile and a hug. The guys he hooked up with refused to look at him.  That was fine. Carol got two roses. She thought it was cute. His mother kept reminding him to apply for university. A month later, as soon as Hal turned 18, he enlisted. He woke up at 5 am to catch the bus to the enlistment office and be there as soon as it opened. When he got home, half of Hal’s stuff was on the lawn. Jack had seen him there on his way to work, apparently, but Hal didn't care. He borrowed a little bit of money from Jim to take a cab. The problem with being 18 was that Hal was young enough to make stupid, stupid mistakes and old enough that his actions had consequences. His mother upset and disowning him? A consequence yeah, but an expected one not one preceded by a stupid mistake. Jack needed to stop putting shit in her head, but Hal was pretty sure that she hoped the military would sober him up. Oh god, was she ever wrong. Carol enlisted too because of course, she would. She was rich as hell but was determined to make it her own way, including paying for college herself by joining the force. Hal didn’t see much of her. He didn’t really see much of anyone or anything. He did see a guy who was a couple of years ahead of him at school, but aside from a wave, the guy didn’t acknowledge him. He arrived at the base right outside Coast with the clothes on his back, a couple of pictures of his Dad and a beat-up copy of The Forever War. He was ushered into the barracks by a commanding officer, and given his training fatigues. Hal wanted to feel like he was where he was meant to be, but he felt sick. He mostly felt like a pretender. He was used to being a pretender. He had been pretending for most of his life. He kept it together for most of his training, but damn, did those boys like to party. It was like high school on steroids. He never got into the smoking habit like the rest of the guys, but he went hard into drinking. He enjoyed the company of his fellow recruits, but he had to do whatever it took to fit in. Some of the guys hated “queers”. Most of the others didn’t care. It didn’t really matter, really. If he was found out he would be kicked out. Do not pass Go, do not fly jets. He made it his mission not to sleep with anyone during training, but being close to attractive people of both sexes was really, really hard. So he drank. He partied. He talked about girls and listened to the same music as the homophobes. He didn’t sleep. He didn’t really eat. But things would be okay, he thought. His brothers were close to giving up, but they hadn’t. His mother would be proud of him once he got clean and became a successful pilot. His friends never saw him. Carol was starting to get tired of him, but she would see how good the army was for him, how close he was to living his dream. He could take the pretending. He just wanted to fly. When he got in the air, that wouldn’t matter. He was wrong.*** Hal was called into his CO’s office on a Monday. He was hungover, grumpy, and sore. He had almost failed his mission at last night’s bar-hop, but he kept it together. He just drank more. While he wasn’t exactly a model recruit, Hal was sure he hadn’t done anything to warrant this discussion. His headache pounded in the sunlight streaming into the office as he saluted and stood before being asked to sit. “Private Jordan,” the CO started, “I’ve been informed by another recruit that you’ve been abusing alcohol heavily while in training.” Hal wondered who ratted him out, but he didn’t see the point in lying. “Yes sir,” he said, “I have been overindulging in alcohol on the weekends. I do not drink during the week, sir.” “Your training instructors note that you seem frequently hungover and tired. Is this accurate?” “I have had difficulty sleeping, sir. I am trying to adapt to a new schedule. I will work harder.” The CO nodded. “Jordan, you realize this is behaviour unbecoming of an air force member.” Hal wanted to roll his eyes. It wasn’t like he was doing anything his peers weren’t doing. He just wanted to fit in. However, if this was going to torpedo his dream before he even started he would change. “Sir, I understand your concerns. I will attempt to obtain help for my problems and will make every effort to abstain from alcohol.” “I appreciate the honesty,” the CO said, “but there are other issues that have been noted.” “Sir?” Now Hal was confused. Maybe...no. How would he know? “Are you a homosexual, son?” Hal’s heart dropped. His chest tightened and his palms began to sweat. No. It was impossible. How...no, that wasn’t important right now. How did he know? “No sir, I am not a homosexual.” “Is it not true that you have had relations with other boys while in high school?” Fuck. “Sir, I…” “After I heard about your drinking problem, I asked one of my officers that attended high school with you about this issue to see if it was a long-term issue. Allegedly, you had intercourse with one of his friends. Is this true, son?” This couldn’t be happening. Hal’s head spun. “Sir, I…” “Jordan, I was willing to overlook your drinking problems until I heard about your ‘escapades’. Now, I trust my officer a lot more than I trust some fudge-packing queer. I will not have faggots in my air force. I will not allow it.” “Fuck you.” Hal spat. “What did you say, private?”“You’ve already made your mind up about me, sir. Nothing I say is going to make you any less of a bigoted asshole. I’ll get my stuff and leave without incident, you have my word. But there is no need to be derogatory. Do NOT fucking call me a faggot, sir.” Hal growled, standing up. He was done. “Your father would be so disappointed in you.” The CO said, shaking his head. Hal punched him in the face. As he was forcibly “escorted” from the base he saw Carol running out of her barracks. There were tears in her eyes. At that moment, Hal knew. He just knew. She ratted him out. She told the CO about his drinking.  Carol fucked him over. He flipped her the bird and spat as he was ejected from the premises, officially dishonourably discharged. ***At least his mother was happy to see him. Jessica Jordan was surprised to hear about Hal’s discharge, but she was quick to forgive him and welcome him back into her home. It only took a week for things to return to normal. Jack stopped by after he’d had a chance to settle in and was ready to scream at him, but Hal’s black eyes cooled him off quick. After that, they both seemed so self-satisfied. Don’t go into the military, they had said, nothing good will come of it. Well, nothing did. Hal could only take so much. He ditched after supper and went for a walk, hood pulled over his face. Fuck everything, he thought. He passed familiar buildings faster and faster until he found himself somewhere he didn’t recognize. It didn’t matter. He kept walking. He wondered what would happen if he just kept walking forever. I didn’t choose this shit, he thought. I just wanted to fly. That’s all I wanted. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. Hal glanced up at the sky. He wondered if his father would have been proud of him either way. His father was good and kind and didn’t care who you slept with as long as you were a decent and mostly kind person yourself. But Hal wasn’t decent and kind. He was a fucked up kid with no idea how to grow up. A car honked at him. Hal ignored it, pulling his hood tighter. The car slowed to follow him. Hal wondered if he wound up in a bad neighbourhood. Getting jumped would just figure, he thought. Take the rest of me, why don’t you. It ain’t worth jack. “Hal!” He picked out his name. He glanced at the car and saw Carol in the driver’s seat, tears drying on her face. Hal flipped her off for the second time that day and broke into a run. Carol followed him, keeping pace. “I’m in a car, dipshit, you can’t run from me!”“Leave me alone!” Hal yelled back. He didn’t want to see her. She would give him some shit about how she only did it because she cared. If she really cared she wouldn’t have told the CO. She would have talked to him. She...it didn’t matter. Fuck her. “Shouldn’t you be at the base?” “I left! I asked the CO about why you left and he called you a faggot so I quit!” Carol sped up. “I didn’t know you were…” “Fuck off Carol, I’m not gay!” Hal growled, breaking into a run. “It’s none of your goddamn business!” “Just come with me, Hal! I’m sorry!” “No!” “Please!” Carol whined. Hal glanced over. She was crying again. Her eyes were bright red, thin lines of mascara running down her cheeks. “At least let me take you home. Your mom is worried about you.” Hal stopped. Carol stopped. Hal looked at her for a long moment and sighed. “Fine,” he said, “but don’t talk to me.” Carol nodded and Hal got in. He leaned on the window and stared out at the city. Coast City was so beautiful. He loved this place. He never wanted to live anywhere else. All he had wanted was to protect it, really. The bright lights, the optimism, the beautiful waterfront...this place had so much if you knew where to look. The city was the only one he needed, maybe. Hal shook his head. He had been listening to too much Red Hot Chili Peppers. He looked out the window again. The waterfront was getting closer, not farther away. Also, they were getting higher. “Carol?” “I thought you didn’t want to talk to me.” “Where the hell are we?” Hal recognized the hill, sort of. He had been here before, but when...didn’t matter. He wanted to go home. He told Carol as much but she said nothing, finally parking on top of the hill. “Remember when your dad used to take us up here?” She asked. Hal looked out the windshield. He did remember. This hill was in a park in a less-urban, more rich person area of Coast. There were trees everywhere. Hal remembered coming here to watch the fireworks with Dad, and Jack, and Jim, and Carol...he frowned. “Why did you bring me here?” Hal asked. “To talk about the past, how things used to be great until I found booze? You think that’s going to make me forget about how you shat on my dreams?” “I just wanted you to get help!” Carol’s neck whipped around to face him. “I didn’t know you’d get discharged. I knew you wouldn’t listen to me, so I went to your CO. I thought he could force you to straighten up, that you’d listen, I didn't know he'd talk to that guy from school…” “That wasn’t your call! You think just because your Dad makes planes for the army you get to talk to whoever you want? You say you want to make it on your own, but using Daddy’s name to ruin my life is the exact opposite!” “That’s not what this is about!” Carol snapped. Hal got out and slammed the door. Fuck this, he was walking home. Maybe he could find enough change somewhere to take the bus. There was at least one fountain nearby. Carol got out, grabbing his arm. “Hal, please! I’m sorry.” Hal stopped when he heard her crying, yet again, reluctantly coming back up the hill.What's she got to cry about?  He thought. She's not the one who lost their dream.Carol wiped her tears on her sleeves. “You’re right. I guess I did assume that my position would make him listen. I never considered how it could go wrong. That’s my fault.” Hal moved around her and parked his butt on the hood of the car. Carol joined him. They stared out at the city together, out at the ocean and beyond. “No, it’s mine,” Hal said after a long silence. “What?” Carol asked. “You know what the worst part is, Carol?” Hal smiled up at the sky, almost serenely, with tears running down his face. “I fucked this up a long time ago, all by myself.” “I still shouldn’t have---” She stopped. “How do you mean, you fucked it up?” “I was born,” Hal laughed, “I was born a faggot.” “What does that mean?” Carol asked. “Are you...are you gay?”“No. Yes. Kind of.” “Bisexual?” Carol offered. “Yeah,” Hal leaned back. “I was born a fence-sitting, bisexual queer. I fucked this up myself.” “You didn’t choose that,” Carol said, quietly. “You didn’t ask to be this way.” “You’re right,” Hal said, “I didn’t. But I could have dealt with it better.” “Is that why you drink so much?” Carol asked. “Settle down Dr. Phil.” Hal rolled his eyes. “I’m just saying that I tried to act tough and act like I was some big shot so no one would see that I felt lost inside.” “Do you still feel lost?” Carol asked. “Carol, I’ve never stopped feeling lost.” Tears started streaming down Hal’s face. “I went from confused to lost to fucked up, and now I don’t know what I’m going to do with my life. I can’t achieve my dream because I’m a fa---” “Don’t say it.” Carol shook her head. “The army kicked you out because they’re a bunch of bigots. It’s not your fault.” “Still though, Carol. What do I do now?” Hal flopped back against the windshield. “You could come work with me,” Carol offered. Hal rolled his eyes. “I’m serious. Me trying to use my family name to meddle with your life got you into this mess. I can at least use it to help you get out of it.” “Thanks, Carol,” Hal smiled, reaching his hand out to her. She grabbed it, squeezing it gently. “I need to figure this out myself. I don’t even know if I still want to fly.” “Maybe you should focus on getting clean first,” Carol said, looking Hal in the face. “Your drinking is a problem for you. I want to help you. But on your terms.” Carol smiled at him. Hal returned the look. “Yeah, you’re right.” “And you should tell your Mom about all this.” Hal groaned. “I’m serious, Hal. She wants to help you.” Hal groaned. “I really don’t think she wants to hear about how her son is a slut and an alcoholic.” Carol flicked his hand. “Only one part of that is true. You’re a drunk, yeah, but you’re mostly just troubled.” Carol flopped down next to him. “You could always become an airline pilot. It’s not as exciting as the air force but you can still fly. You can do it until you’re old and grey, unlike our wonderful US military.” “Worse pay.” Hal pointed out, frowning. “But it’s not a bad idea.” “Ferris Aircraft is always looking for pilots.” Carol smiled. “If I’m going to going to be taking over for Dad, I want someone I can trust flying my planes.” “You trust me?” Hal sat up, scanning his friend’s face for any sign of mirth or sarcasm. There were none. Carol stared at him, nodding. Hal felt tears prick his eyes. Carol squeezed his hand harder. “Come on Harold, let’s get you home.” Carol sat up, sliding off the car. Hal followed, getting into the passenger's seat. He took one last look at the city, the water around it, and the sky above it. It wasn’t only beautiful. It was his home, full of hope and promise. He smiled at Carol. She started the car, told Hal to pick the radio station, and drove home through one of Coast City’s signature bright nights. ***Hal tried to drink his morning coffee, but his hands shook too much to lift it. Jessica Jordan sat across from him, giving him a strange look. She sipped at her tea, flipping through her newspaper. The sun streamed in from the window overlooking the backyard. The kitchen hadn’t changed much since he was a child. The garden was new, though. Jessica planted a few hyacinths, lilies and marigolds, as well as a rose bush. Hal wasn’t really a flower guy, but he liked them. He desperately wished that Carol hadn’t been called into an emergency meeting at Ferris Aircraft. Carl was, evidently, very happy that she was back. What he needed to say would have been much easier with her around, but Hal knew he couldn’t chicken out of this. He didn’t want to be a coward anymore. “Mom,” Hal started, “I need to talk to you.” Jessica put down her paper. “I kind of gathered that. What’s going on?” Hal tried to take a deep breath. It was shaky and shallow. Jessica grabbed Hal’s hand. “You’re scaring me, Harold. Please tell me.”Hal sighed. “I don’t want you to hate me.” “Oh, my darling.” Jessica rubbed his knuckles. “Even when you went against my wishes and joined the army, I didn’t hate you. Even when I found vodka bottles in your backpack, I didn’t hate you. You’re my son. Nothing could ever change that.” Hal’s face burned and his eyes stung. Wetness dripped down his cheeks. “So you knew about the drinking.” “Of course I knew,” Jessica scoffed. “You weren’t exactly subtle. I never knew...I didn’t know how to help you. I thought that once you were out of school we’d work on getting you into treatment. You weren’t stealing, or getting into trouble, and your grades were fine. I didn’t know it was so serious.” “That’s…” Hal sighed. “That’s part of what I wanted to talk to you about. I guess there’s no hiding it. I think I might be an alcoholic. I need help. I’ve already lost so much, I can’t afford to lose you, or Jack, or Jim, or Carol, or my future, or…” Tears streamed down Hal’s face as he rambled. Jessica stood up, her chair creaking against the old linoleum. She wrapped her arms around her son, stroking his hair and placing a kiss on the crown of his head. “You won’t lose us, my darling. I’m sorry I didn’t intervene sooner.” Hal felt wet drops on his head. “It’s not your fault, Mom. I got myself...well, partly, into this mess.” “Partly?” Jessica stopped stroking. “Hal, what do you mean ‘partly’? Carol said…” “Carol didn’t know the whole story.” Hal leaned into Jessica. He hoped that she wouldn’t move. He didn’t want to have to look her in the eyes. His Mom paused completely, then moved to his side, kneeling on the ground beside him. Hal grimaced. He should have known things wouldn’t be that easy. “What is the whole story?” She asked, tears shining in her eyes. “I was discharged from the army...because they…” Hal’s hands balled into fists. “I’m so sorry, Mom. I should have told you. I should have told you from the start, maybe I wouldn’t be in this stupid situation if I’d been just a little braver…” “Hal, please tell me,” Jessica stated simply, looking into Hal’s eyes. “Mom…” Hal took a deep breath. “I’m bisexual. My CO found out about some of the guys I fooled around with in high school and he kicked me out. I was just discharged at first, but…” Hal’s voice broke. “...he called me a faggot and said Dad would be disappointed in me. So I punched him in the face.” Jessica’s eyes were wide with shock. Hal braced for his mother’s hatred. His prepacked bags were tucked under the bed upstairs just in case she threw him out. It was unlikely, given that she had nothing against gay people (she watched Ellen every day) but he also knew that people reacted differently to bisexual people than to gay people. They were fence-sitters. Greedy. Somehow queerer, less acceptable. Hal started to shake. He closed his eyes, openly crying. “That bastard.” Jessica spat. Hal’s eyes shot open. Jessica knelt beside him, shaking with rage, brows furrowed. “How dare that horrible pig of a man call my son a fa...something like that. A cruel, awful word like that.” She frowned, looking away from Hal. “I don’t understand how that kind of bigotry still exists.” Hal shook his head. “I don’t know,” he whispered, “I don’t know, Mom.” Jessica looked up at Hal. “I love you, Hal. Who you love doesn’t change that.” Hal slid off the chair and knelt next to Jessica. Without saying a word, Hal pulled her into a hug, sobbing into her shoulder. His mother froze for a moment and returned the hug just as fiercely, crying softly.*** Hal made three promises to his mother: that he would go to rehab, enroll in college, and ‘try not to break too many hearts' in the process. Rehab was the first step in the process. To Hal, it was probably the hardest. He watched his mother help Jack and Jim pack the car that would take him to Evergreen City’s premier rehabilitation centre--a stipulation from Hal because he didn’t want to run into anyone he knew--with something between forced detachment and shaky nervousness. Jack snapped at him to come help, and Hal dragged himself to his feet, taking his suitcase outside into the summer day. Once it was loaded in the car, Hal fished his phone out of his jeans. Carol hadn’t replied to his text about leaving. It hurt, but Hal understood. Carol actually had her shit together, she had a demanding job and a busy schedule. Still, he wanted to see her once more before leaving for 30 days. Jim appeared beside him, carrying a couple of bags of chips and cans of soda under each arm. He smiled nervously at his older brother. Hal reached out to ruffle Jim’s hair, Jim deftly ducking away. He had come out to Jack and Jim after coming out to his mom. Jack had only scoffed and said, “I knew that already”. Apparently, Hal was less subtle than he thought. Jim, though, Jim had gone silent after the discussion and hadn’t really talked to Hal much since. It was the opposite of what Hal had been expecting, in all honesty, and it bothered him. Jim had always looked up to him. Hal felt like a shitty role model but he did his best. He wanted to talk to Jim alone about it but Jim tried to avoid being alone with him. Jack had to bribe him with chips and soda to make him come for the drive at all. Jack exited the house, Jessica trailing behind him. Jessica was wiping away tears. Hal looked away. “Are we ready to go?” Jack asked, jogging to stand beside Hal. “Did Carol get back to you?” “No,” Hal groaned. “We’ll call her when you get out. I promise bro, she’ll be here waiting for you to come home.” Jack clapped a hand on Hal’s shoulder. Hal smiled weakly and looked back down at the phone. His weather app told him it was sunny skies all day. Great. Jessica hugged Hal from behind. Hal turned around, scooping his mother up and swinging her around. She laughed, more tears streaming down her face. Hal set her down without breaking the embrace. “You’ll call us, right? And you’ll do everything the counsellor says?” “Yes Mom,” Hal said, crossing his fingers over his heart, “scout’s honour.” “You were never a boy scout,” Jim piped up, earning a punch on the shoulder from Jack. “I’m so proud of you, Hal.” Jessica squeezed his hand. “I love you.” “I love you too,” Hal said, sliding his phone all the way into his pocket. “Let’s get going,” Jack playfully grabbed Hal by the cuff of his jacket. “Or else we’re going to be here forever because Mom won’t let you go.” Hal let himself be led into the car, waving goodbye to Jessica. Jim followed, though a bit more hesitantly. The youngest Jordan brother slid into the back, next to the suitcases. Hal tossed him a soda and Jim smiled a bit, but then went back to looking out the window. The drive to Evergreen City wasn’t long, and Jack was good conversation for once, but Jim’s silence seemed to stretch on and on. Hal couldn’t even enjoy his chips. Eventually, Hal snapped. “What, Jim?” “I didn’t say anything,” Jim replied sullenly. “You keep staring at me, or out the window, or into space, and you haven’t talked to me in a week. So I ask again, Jim, what is your deal?” Jim frowned, crossing his arms, jerking his head towards the floor of the car. “Is it the alcoholic thing or the bi thing? Because really, that’s all that’s changed in the past week.” “Hal, stop accusing Jim of shit.” Jack snapped. “I’m not accusing him, I’m pointing stuff out.” Hal retorted, glaring back at Jim. Jim looked up sheepishly. “I don’t care that you’re bi.” “Oh?” Hal raised an eyebrow. “I just...It’s just hard, you know? You think of someone one way your whole life, and then it turns out that they’re not that way...it’s just weird. I’m not used to it.” Jim locked eyes with Hal. “I’m just trying to process all this crap.” Hal folded his hands. Of course, it would be a change for Jim. He was selfish not to consider that his 15-year-old brother might not know how to handle a family member coming out. He stares out the window. “I’m sorry.” “For what?” Jim uncrossed his arms. “You were born bi, and I get why coming out isn’t the easiest thing in the world. It’s just a change. I’m trying to get used to it.” “I’m still Hal,” Hal said, turning around to face his contrite brother. “I’m still the same flyboy I’ve always been. Now you just know that I like booze, chicks and…” “You ARE not finishing that sentence,” Jack interrupted. “I don’t care that you’re bisexual either, but I don’t want to hear about dicks and my brother.” “That’s kind of homophobic,” Jim pointed out. “I don’t want to hear about my brother doing chicks either!” Jack slammed his hand on the steering wheel. “I don’t want to hear about my siblings fooling around.” “You sound like a PSA, dude.” Hal laughed. “No one says fooling around anymore.” Jim laughed. “Like one of those 1950’s ones. ‘I’m worried my children are fooling around and catching venereal diseases!’” “I’ll turn this car around, just watch me!” Jack took a playful swipe at Hal, who dodged and flicked a chip at his forehead. Jack shouted something about driving and Jim flicked chips at both his brothers. By the time Jack’s car pulled into the parking lot of “Evergreen Heights Treatment Center” it was covered in chip dust and soda. Jim sniffled a bit as he handed Hal his suitcase. “Do what Mom said, okay?” He asked, staring at his feet. “I want you to get better so you can come home.” Hal tilted Jim’s head up to look him in the eyes. “I promise,” he said, pulling Jim in for a hug. Jim immediately tried to squirm out of it. Jack wrapped them both in a group hug. “Call us and stuff, okay? And try not to annoy too many people.” “Me?” Hal said with mock indignation. “Never.” ***Hal did not need detoxing so he was taken directly to his room. The walls were covered with pictures of Jesus. Hal asked one of the staff members who the hippy was. The staff sputtered a bit before sighing. “You know, I’m Jewish. I’d really like to know what the deal about this hippy is too.” Hal smirked. “If I find out, I’ll let you know.” Hal’s actual counsellors did not find his jokes about hippies nearly as funny. Their loss, in his mind. While he was relieved that the centre was affirming some of the religious stuff got stale real quick. Like chapel, aka, nap time. Hal knew he couldn’t get kicked out for leaning back and daydreaming the whole time the minister droned on and on about sin and redemption, but he was pretty sure some of the staff members wanted to send him packing. His counsellors warned him about using flippancy and humour as a shield to avoid actually confronting how he was feeling, telling him it wasn’t a habit he wanted to get into. Personality traits weren’t habits, though. He was having trouble changing the way he looked at the world and, though he made progress, he could tell his counsellors weren’t always unhappy. Not annoying people was harder than he thought. Still, he was only there for 30 days. Then he could go back to...what, exactly, he didn’t know. He wasn’t welcome back in the army, he hadn’t even thought about where he wanted to go to college, he had no job, and Carol still hadn’t texted him or called. He’d be going back to living with his mother, his avoidant younger brother, and no one else to call his friend. The counselling had to be working because Hal wasn’t craving drinks anymore. His only craving was for companionship, and that couldn’t be found at the bottom of a bottle.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Infatuation: an intense but short-lived passion or admiration for someone or something.
Oliva Reynolds seemed like the only “normal” person in rehab, but even that was a stretch. She was pretty sure she could read minds, which was her main motivation for getting sober, and even for Hal that was a little bit weird. She was a little older than him and had a decent job as a saleswoman, no doubt aided by her latent telepathy. Normally Hal would have avoided someone like her, someone sure they knew all the answers but didn't tell you any. But she was also bisexual, which meant he had way more in common with her than any of the other born-again weirdos at the centre.Olivia liked his company. This was pretty clear since she always asked him to sit with her at meals. She was pretty, Hal supposed, with her strawberry blond hair and perky nose. She was also whip-smart and Hal enjoyed listening to her twist the words of their counsellors around on them. She always seemed to know what he was thinking, so the mind-reading thing might not have been that far off. Olivia and Hal soon wound up spending all their time together outside of group, going for walks around the ‘peace labyrinth’ (usually devolving into games of chase). Olivia told Hal she knows that he likes her because she can read his mind so they should just date. Hal just kind of agreed. It was better than staring at his phone in the dark, waiting for a text that was never going to come. The counsellors were concerned, as ‘relationships’ between patients were expressly forbidden, but their ‘romance’ consisted of holding hands at meals, going for walks, and the occasional kiss when the staff weren’t looking. When Olivia completed her stay in the program and left, she shook Hal’s hand and gave him a napkin with a phone number written on it. A week later Hal called her. She didn’t recognize his voice, asking ‘who is this’ enough times to get irritating. Hal heard a woman’s voice in the background, asking ‘honey, who is it?’. He hung up. Something in him felt a little bit dirty, even though he rationally knew it wasn't his fault. So much for telepathy, he thought, staring down the white halls of Evergreen Heights with a crumpled napkin in his hands and the barest hint of a tear in his eye. It didn’t hurt, not really, but damn did it sting. Hal walked back to his room, hands in his pockets, tossing the napkin into the nearest trash bin. ***His counsellor told him he had ‘intimacy issues’. They thought it was easier for him to be impersonal and to form temporary connections than to risk a broken heart. This surprised them, they said, because he took risks everywhere else. Hal’s brave, but not there. His heart was a bit rattled, a little bruised. They asked him about his father. They asked about what kind of man he was and how he felt about risk-taking. They asked if he was a cold father or a warm father. Hal responded with a snarky quip about them sounding like cliches. They didn't laugh. Hal told them that his father took risks but loved fiercely and bravely. He understood that his job was dangerous, but tried to downplay it for the kids. The counsellor wrote this down. Hal winced. They asked Hal if he knew why he felt afraid to show his vulnerability to others. Hal responded that if you get called a faggot enough times you start to clam up. The word made the counsellor visibly uncomfortable. Good, Hal thought, it’s not a comfortable word. The counsellor asked him if he’d made peace with being bisexual. Hal didn’t really know. He just wanted peace with himself, his whole self. His counsellor used a metaphor about flying. They told him that a plane needs to go through safety checks before it takes off, and needs more than one person to stay on track. Hal told the counsellor he felt more like a bird sucked into an engine than a pilot most days. The counsellor circled that, reminded him that it’s his choice to be the bird or be the plane. He could fly or he could get stuck. Hal said out loud, “I’m going to fly.” The counsellor had him end his subsequent sessions like that, repeating “I’m going to fly” like there was any doubt he would. Hal learned not to. *** Hal left the Evergreen Heights Treatment Centre with a fancy new chip and a terse goodbye. His brothers picked him up and they had burgers on the way home. He almost told them about Olivia, but decided to push her out of his mind completely and focus on stealing Jack’s fries while he drove. Jessica and Carol waited for him at home with a pizza and a cake. Hal hugged Carol and it was like they’d never been apart. Jessica made a crack about marriage that Carol assured her was pure fantasy. It wasn’t, though, not to Hal. He tried to call her more, tried to see her more, but Carol’s life hadn’t slowed down the same way his had. Her job was the most important thing part of her life. It’s what her father had always wanted. A bitter part of his brain told him that Carol was smart enough that she would have been flying by now if she stayed with the army. But Carol wasn’t a pilot. Her down-to-Earthiness had always been what he liked about her. It was only when she overstepped that she came crashing down to Earth. Hal knew she was smart enough to realize what she was meant to do, even if it wasn’t what she always wanted. It was easy to be bitter. He wanted to be, maybe. He didn’t really know what he wanted. It was easier to let it go.It was easy to forgive her for everything. Hal was pretty sure this meant he loved her. A voice in his head that sounded like his counsellor said that maybe he forgave her so easily because he doesn’t realize his own worth. Carol took him to the movies one night and wouldn’t let Hal buy popcorn. He tried to hold her hand during the flick but she just looked at him and shook her head. On the way home, she stopped in a parking lot. “I’m sorry if I led you on, Hal, but this wasn’t a date.” “Why not?” Hal tried to hold Carol’s hand again. She let him. “I care about you, more than I care about anyone else in my life.” “Don’t do this,” Carol’s hands shook. “I care about you too much to hurt you, Hal. Don’t make me hurt you.” “I think we could be happy together.” Hal leaned forward. She leaned away from him, her shoulders pressed against the driver’s side window. “I don’t,” Carol said, looking into Hal’s eyes. “Maybe someday, but not now. No, I’m not even going to say maybe someday, because I don’t know.” She took a deep breath and looked away. “You’re kind of a little chaotic, Hal. Your life is a bit of a mess, and it has been as long as I’ve known you. My life isn’t anymore. I...I can’t see that changing.” “I love you.” “I love you too, Hal,” Carol said, separating their hands but turning back towards him. “But we’re better off as friends. You know that, don’t you?” Hal didn’t but he nodded anyway. He tried for a half-smile. “I’m sorry.” Carol patted Hal on the shoulder. “We’ll always be friends, Hal. I’ll make sure of that.” Hal said nothing, nodding. Carol pulled out of the parking lot and drove Hal home in silence. *** Hal was a little late to enrol for college in the fall, but the advisor said he could start in the winter if he wanted. Hal decided against it and got a term position with the city shovelling snow and salting the roads. His parents had put enough aside for his schooling, but Hal wanted to save up enough to live on his own. Jim’s constant question of ‘who is he texting, is it his boyfriend or girlfriend’ was starting to get old, and he wanted to give Jessica a little bit of peace. She said she wanted him to stay, to live with her as long as he wanted, but he could tell she didn’t mean it all the time. When summer rolled around he took a job lifeguarding, where he met Barry Allen. Somehow Barry was hired as a lifeguard, despite being late for every shift and barely able to carry a pool noodle without dropping and tripping over it. Hal still preferred to talk to the weird clumsy dude who wouldn’t shut up about science than his underaged female coworkers who agreed with everything he said. It was a little creepy. Barry was going into forensics in the fall and was in desperate need of a roommate. Barry also had a fantastic ass, so Hal considered his offer. It was only after getting to know Barry a little more that he realized that a) Barry was very, very straight and b) they had a lot in common. “Do you ever miss your Dad?” Barry asked one night after closing while they fought to stack paddleboards. Hal thought of a joke. The shield, again. He paused. “I do. I never stopped. It’s like breathing now. Eat, sleep, miss my Dad. It’s automatic.” “Hmm.” Barry nodded, reaching past Hal to grab a stray board. “I miss my Mom the same way, I think. I think about her so much I don’t notice thinking about her anymore. Everyone I talk to says it sounds crazy, to have it be such an automatic reflex like that. But you get it.” “Of course I get it,” Hal finished his section, moving to help Barry with his. “My Dad was my hero. Everything I do, I wonder if he’d be okay with it. If he’d be proud.” “You’re a good dude, Hal,” Barry said. “Of course he is.” “Thanks, Bar.” Hal stepped back, sitting on the grass behind them. “You’re an even better dude, so I know your Mom is proud of you. And you already know that your Dad is.” Barry beamed, flopping down next to him. “You’re the only person who doesn’t talk about my Dad like he's a monster.” “You say he’s innocent and that’s good enough for me.” Hal shrugged. “Plus, he raised you for part of your life, so he can’t be all bad.” Barry gave Hal an awkward side hug. “You’re the best, dude.” “Yeah, yeah,” Hal returned the hug awkwardly, patting Barry on the back. “I know you said you weren’t sure about being my roommate, but....” Barry detangled himself from Hal’s limbs. “I think we’d be awesome roommates. And I got approved for student loans.” It occurred to Hal that he’d never actually had a platonic, actual friendship-type relationship with a guy since, like, middle school. He didn't count his army buddies, or the guys he just sort of hung around with in high school. He wasn't actually sure if he could do it, but he was done being afraid. Hal nodded, smiling. “Of course Barry. I’d love to be your roommate. If you can handle the whole ‘bi’ thing. And the recovering alcoholic thing.” “I’ll make sure you stay recovered. And as long as I don’t see you banging assorted dudes and chicks, I’m good. I’m not so insecure or backwards that I think you’re just moving in with me to sleep with me.” “You’re too gangly for me anyway,” Hal laughed, narrowly avoiding a paddleboard thrown at his face. Hal and Barry moved in together in August, a few weeks before school started. They managed to score a sweet deal on the top floor of a house. Their housemates in the basement were a couple of quiet library science students with a very cute cat. The two men considered having a party, but Barry didn’t really know a lot of people and neither did Hal. They settled on having their respective parental figures and Hal’s siblings over for dinner and then watching Star Trek and binging on junk food. It was comfortable and fun and Hal felt warmth in his stomach he hadn’t yet felt without the aid of booze. ***Hal realized two things in his first week of university. One, staying sober on campus was almost a class in itself, what with welcome week beer being shoved in everyone’s face. The second was that high school did jack shit to prepare him for the reality of university. His locker was nearly impossible to find, nobody talked to anyone else and his 100-level professors didn’t bother learning anyone’s names unless you really, really screw up. Barry managed to do that in his chemistry class by lighting his sleeve on fire. Hal was also amazed that the seats at the front of the classrooms filled up first. He was stuck somewhere in the middle of his physics 102 room, trying to see around some behemoth and his friend, mohawk lad. He felt lucky that he was a whiz at physics, or else not being able to see the board would have tanked him. He looked up from his phone when a pretty blonde girl with tanned skin slid into the seat next to him. “Is this taken?” she asked in a very quiet voice. Hal shook his head. “Nope, I’m apparently one of the few people who doesn’t like the front row.” “The boards are too big,” Hal noticed her gloss-pink lips and bright green eyes as she talked, “You’d hurt your neck up there.” “Exactly. If you got a nosebleed you’d drown.” The blond girl laughed. It sounded a little like tinkling bells. “My name’s Hal.” Hal stuck out his hand. “Arisia Rrab.” She said, meekly grasping his fingers. “It’s nice to meet you.” “Likewise,” Hal said, flashing his signature grin. Arisia blushed. Her innocence was refreshing, perhaps more than it should have been, after years of pining for worldly Carol or a bunch of hormonal boys. “If you’ve got any questions, just let me know. I’m pretty good at physics.” “Maybe we can study sometime,” Arisia said, glancing away. Hal jotted his number on the top of her notebook. The class started around them, but all Hal could do was watch Arisia watch him. What Hal didn’t realize was that Arisia’s innocence wasn’t only a personality trait. She was the single daughter of a very protective father. She wasn’t allowed to have male friends who weren’t related to her. Arisia confessed one day that the reason she chose Coast City University was that none of her equally protective male cousins went there. She also told Hal that her father read all her text messages. Hal’s own contact information was saved under “Haley” and his picture was some random girl Arisia found on Google images. That should have deterred Hal, but it didn’t. He’d never dated or fucked anyone like Arisia before. She was like honey, golden and sweet and perfect. He was a little afraid of her Dad, but he wasn’t at CCU. At their ‘table’, secluded in the back of the library, it was like they were the only two people in the world. They hung out and ‘studied’ after every physics class. Sometimes they 'studied' in the darkened corners of the library, where he barely had to touch his girlfriend to make her moan.  She was so pure that Hal felt like he was corrupting her by just being around her. When she gasped into his mouth he felt like he was sucking the light out of her. When he told Barry this, his friend told him to stop being so dramatic. Arisia didn’t really care about his bisexuality. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure that she really knew what it meant. He avoided telling her about how much he got around. She avoided mentioning her Dad too much. After six months of dating, Hal started to get frustrated. He wanted to do ‘boyfriend and girlfriend’ stuff, like wine and dine his beautiful flower, take her to movies and dinner, hell, even bring her over to his place so she can meet the neighbour’s cat and so they could screw in his room rather than in secluded corners. But she wouldn’t. She had to tell her Dad where she was at all times. He had the Snapchat location function turned on and he knew when she wasn’t where she said she was--apparently he lost it at her when her best friend drove her home from a concert and had to stop to get gas because she didn’t tell him she was going to the gas station. Hal started to feel less like a boyfriend and more like a secret. It didn’t feel good. Hal was reminded of his dark days, the days where he pretended, the days where he lied all the time. He wasn’t sure he loved Arisia enough to be taken back there. Hal gave her an ultimatum: tell her Dad she had a boyfriend or she won’t have one anymore. He told her that he was no one’s secret, he was done living in a closet. She said her father wouldn’t approve of him. Hal didn’t care. Other people’s approval meant jack at this point. He just wanted to hold hands with his girl in public. Arisia kissed him goodbye after dinner in the cafeteria one night and told him that she couldn’t let down her father. Hal told her it must be nice to have a father to let down before leaving without looking back. He deleted her number and ignored her texts. He didn’t delete her picture until Barry told him it was getting creepy. Even then, he saved it onto his hard drive in a folder with a gibberish name. Eventually, he did delete it. By accident. ***Barry’s student loan was apparently not enough to cover his massive appetite, as Hal rapidly found out. Luckily for him, Barry’s friend Cisco knew a guy who owned a kind of concert-hall meets club. They were always looking for people to work as ‘roadies’ for the smaller acts who don’t have their own, even bean poles like Barry Allen. Hal got roped into doing some under-the-table work from time to time. He was much more built than his friend. Barry may have been a running addict but Hal diversified his workouts, thank you very much. Barry woke up Hal on a Saturday afternoon. Hal had been up studying for an English exam and fallen asleep on the couch. “Great American Short Stories” was flopped open to his left, and “Masters of American Poetry” was flopped open on his right. Hal wasn’t sure which one he hated more, but he was determined to pass this test because they were reading “Fight Club” next. His tea had already evaporated and a crusty bag stuck to the side of his favourite “Die Hard” mug. “Huh?” Hal blinked, swatting at Barry to get him to stop shaking his shoulders. “Get off me, dude. What time is it?” “2 pm,” Barry answered, glancing at the clock. “How late were you up?” “Ugh,” Hal rubbed his eyes, “doesn’t matter. The real question is why am I awake?” “My boss called me and said Terry has the flu and can’t come in today, Geoff is hungover and Mark is still at the hospital, but tonight is British Invasion Night and we have a whole bunch of bands from England coming in and we really can’t afford to mess this up but we’re three people short and…” Hal groaned, facepalming. “Slow down, Barry. You’re going to give yourself a heart attack.” “Right,” Barry took a deep breath, “sorry. Basically, we’re three guys short and my boss was wondering if you could come in with me today and haul some equipment. He needs us there in 2 hours. He says he’ll pay double the usual.” Hal looked down at his books. “I have an exam to study for--” “Yeah, on Monday.” Barry put his hands on his hips, staring down at Hal with his best approximation of puppy dog eyes. He looked more like he was trying to hold in a fart. “Come on, Hal. Please? You’ll have all day tomorrow to study. I’ll buy you dinner?” Hal stood up slowly, stretching out the kinks in his back. “Okay, fine. But you’re also buying me lunch today. And supper.” Barry sighed dramatically. “God, fine. Just shower and shave or something and I’ll buy you a burger on the way there.” “Make it two burgers or I’m not showering.” Barry groaned. “Ugh, fine. Hurry up though, I don’t want to be late!” They were still fifteen minutes late. Barry insisted on ordering two chicken sandwiches with special sauce, which took longer to cook than both of Hal’s cheeseburgers. Barry’s boss, Alan, looked unimpressed with both of them when they arrived but quickly had them working, setting up the stage and figuring out where the merch tables were going. The bands would be arriving early, he was told, to rehearse in the unfamiliar space. Alan had already sent his niece to the airport to pick up a couple of the bands. The others were driving in from other stops on their US tours. Hal and Barry worked together setting up the additional speakers before going around to the walls, stapling posters to them to advertise the bands and contribute to what Alan liked to call ‘the aesthetic’. “These bands have stupid names.” Hal groaned, stapling a poster to a wall while Barry narrowly missed his thumb. “Blaenavon? King Nun? What is this?” “I mean, look at the great bands of the past.” Barry stepped back, glancing at his work. “Led Zeppelin? Smashing Pumpkins? City Boy? None of those bands had great names either. It’s a creative thing.” “It’s still stupid.” Hal glanced down the poster in his hands. “Mucous Membrane? Seriously?” “I dunno, mate.” A very British voice said behind him. “I thought it was clever.” Hal turned around and found himself face to face with an extremely attractive dude wearing an expression somewhere between smug and bored. He was smoking a long cigarette, hands stuffed into a worn brown trench coat. The stranger’s bright blue eyes were framed by spiky blonde hair and his face was peppered with just the right amount of stubble. Hal nearly swooned but managed to keep his attraction in check. Something about the man in front of him gave him a weird vibe. It was almost like he was wearing vague arrogance as a mask. It wasn’t bad weird, but it was still a little bit odd. “And you are?” Hal asked with a raised eyebrow. “Johnny Conjob,” The guy started, pulling his smoke out from between plush lips in a movement Hal was pretty sure he was supposed to notice, “but you, love, can call me John Constantine.” “Wow, I’ve never met anyone with two stage names before. Unless one of them is actually your real name.  I’m almost impressed.” Hal crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall. John smirked. “If you’re sticking around for the show, I promise I’ll try my best to turn that ‘almost’ into a ‘very’. I’m the lead singer and guitarist for Mucous Membrane.” He moved closer to Hal, putting his cigarette back in his mouth. “So you’re the one responsible for that name. I don’t think I’d brag about that.” Hal adjusted his back against the wall, the leaning taking its toll, but still moving forward. He found himself drawing closer to John Constantine than was probably necessary for ‘friendly banter’. Hal caught Barry staring at the interaction while continuing to put up posters. “As I said, love, I thought it was clever. And King Nun was already taken.” “How long were you standing there?” Hal asked. “Long enough to get a good look at you.” John placed an arm beside Hal’s head. “Doing anything after the show?” “If I’m picking up your insinuation, probably you,” Hal replied, moving until he was nose to nose with John Constantine. The man smelled like cigarettes and aftershave, the most stereotypical manly smell possible. Hal loved it. “Meet me at my bus after the last set. It has our apparently odious band name scrawled on the side, can’t miss it.” John patted Hal on the shoulder. “As much as I’d love to banter with you, my band is going to get real testy if I’m not there to rehearse with them. I’ll see you later.” John blew a kiss and sauntered off to the backstage area, winking at Hal before going into the green rooms. Barry was at Hal’s side in an instant. “Did that just happen?” Hal shook his head. His heart felt like it was trying to escape his chest with how fast it was beating, which was not helping him will his raging erection down. At least his ‘work pants’ were loose. “I think so.” “Do you have protection?” Barry asked. “I like how that’s the first thing you’re concerned about. Not that your friend is potentially sleeping with someone who calls themselves ‘Johnny Conjob’ on purpose.” “You don’t know how many shows he picks up cute dudes at. You don’t want one night of fun to make you miserable forever.” “You’re such a mom friend, you know that?” Hal retorted. “But I don’t.” “I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but…” Barry glanced around before leaning forward, “Alan keeps some condoms and lube in his office.” “How do you know that?” Hal asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. “Dude, ew, no. I know because he told me about it after I made out with a girl after a show. Let me tell you, your boss telling you he has condoms for the same reason? Massive mood killer.” Barry frowned. “I don’t want to ask him though. I might be able to sneak into his office during the show…” Hal laughs. “Look, just get me some before the end of the show. I’ll owe you one.” “Like...not having to buy dinner?" “Yeah, no. Sorry, Barry, you still owe me food and I’m not a cheap date.” Barry grumbled to himself, stomping away. “Maybe you should get Johnny Conjob to buy you some dinner!” “Sounds like I’m already getting some sausage later!” Hal yelled back. Barry shuddered and walked faster, leaving Hal to chortle to himself and finish with the posters. Four hours later, Hal waited nervously outside of an ancient spray-painted hunk of junk that called itself a tour bus. After helping take down part of the show he passed the rest off to Barry to go straight to the Mucous Membrane bus. Barry was the one on the payroll, after all. John didn’t exactly lie, the show was impressive. The energy and passion were electrifying. However, Hal’s nerves felt like live wires for a different reason. He was getting cold in his bomber jacket. He fidgeted with his one-year chip in his jacket, which he never left home without. He checked his phone, ignoring the winking emoji-filled text from Barry. If John Constantine wasn’t outside in 15 minutes, Hal was going home. “Hullo love!” John jogged out of the club, smiling at Hal. “I almost thought you wouldn’t show!” “What can I say? You made that ‘almost’ a ‘very’.” John beamed. “While I’d love to hear you tell me about how great my music is, I think I’d rather get to know you a bit better.” John unlocked the bus and opened the door for Hal, bowing a little. “After you, darling.” Hal stepped into the tour bus. It was more of a converted van than a bus, but it still had a few tables and what appeared to be a bed. “Want a beer?” Hal felt his chip in his pocket. “No, I’m good” was barely out of his mouth before John was on him. John pinned him to the wall, yanking Hal’s pants halfway down his calves. His trenchcoat was spread wide open around him, giving Hal access to everything. John’s hands were rough from years of guitar playing and slick from gripping the mic. His short nails scraped up Hal’s thigh, spreading them expertly. Their mouths crashed together. Hal tasted smoke. “How do you still have this much energy after that set?" “Cocaine and years of practice,” John grunted into Hal’s ear. Hal rolled his eyes. “Kidding about the cocaine part. I drink a lot of coffee and I wash it down with energy drinks.” “Gross,” Hal said, in between kisses, “but I guess whatever gives you enough energy to pick up guys after shows is a lucky break for me.” “I get up to some mischief, it’s true. Boys are nothing but, women the same. None like you, though.” John squeezed Hal’s dick and Hal keened into his hands, legs flopping open wider. John’s hand snaked under his balls and gave them a squeeze. “You’re one of a kind.” Hal fought to get at least one of John’s three belts off. “What does that even mean?” “Just what I said, love. You’re a beaut. I’ve never seen a more leggy bloke before.” “I could come from your accent, fuck,” Hal moaned, finally working John’s pants off. John shoved his fingers in Hal’s mouth and Hal sucked eagerly.  Hal tried to dig a condom and a small packet of lube out of his bomber jacket, mercifully still on. John smirked. “So eager,” John laughed, taking his shirt off and getting his pants and boxers down. Hal passed him the condom and lube and John opened it with his teeth. “What’s your name, love?” “Hal.” Hal kicked his pants off to some corner of the bus. “Hal Jor--” “Don’t need the last name, darling.” John grabbed Hal’s hand and pulled him towards the back of the tour bus. Hal registered the makeshift bed again, noticing now that it was pretty much a couple of seats and a few blankets spread over top. “I just need to know if you like it on your back or bent over.” “I want to see you,” Hal admitted. He was done with being fucked face down in the back of vehicles. Plus, he’d never had a guy like John Constantine before. His long spiked hair, stubbly cheeks and enchanting smirk were the exact opposite of an army brat, and he was loving it. John stroked the side of his cheek with one spit-shining, lube-slick hand. “I like that idea.” John purred, pushing Hal back on the bed. “Get your legs up Hal, I’m going to make you feel magical.” Hal obeyed without question. John pushed in, hitting Hal’s prostate with one thrust. He wasn’t kidding about practice, Hal thought, the breath knocked out of him. His dick throbbed painfully, wedged between both their stomachs as John thrust. The musician above him threw his head back, revealing his manly neck for Hal to bite. When his teeth connected John stuttered, letting go of Hal’s hips to pull Hal up by his hair for a bruising kiss with too much teeth. Hal started moving back against John and John reached down and gave Hal’s dick a rough tug. “You are perfection, Hal darling,” he whispered, “feels so good inside you.” “Fuck,” Hal moaned. He was so close. His back was arched so much that it hurt, but he didn’t feel it. The press of John inside him and the pressure on his dick was too much. If John talked again… “Just like that, love. You're a great lay. You’re like a dream.” Hal came, coating his stomach and his lover’s with a sticky white mess. John thrust messily until he collapsed on top of Hal, kissing Hal’s panting face on the way down. After a few minutes, John stood up, dragging Hal with him. The weird positions Hal’s body seemed to warp itself were starting to ache. John gave him an apologetic look, though still staring hungrily at his half-naked partner. He grabbed a smoke from a nearby table and lit it, passing it to Hal. Hal shook his head, looking around for his clothes and shoes. “You are the best lay I've had for a while, mate.” John groaned, flopping into a chair. “I really do mean that.” “Uh, thanks.” Hal found his pants and pulled them back over his aching backside. After some consideration, he replied, “you too.” He found his shoes and started putting them back on. John smiled, probably the first real smile Hal had seen on him. It made his knees weak. The next phrase out of his mouth made Hal’s blood run cold. “I’m gonna need you to get out quick though, love. The band’s going to be back soon.” “What?” Hal sputtered, dropping one of his shoes on the floor. It clattered, rattling some bottles nearby. “What the hell are you talking about?” “You’re a great lay, Hal Jordan, but I don’t want me bandmates to get the wrong idea.” “And what,” Hal’s eyes narrowed, “would the wrong idea be, Mr. Conjob?” John sighed. “Look, my mates don’t know, yeah? The music industry, especially the rock scene….well, upper management is not exactly welcoming. Not to the musicians, at least. I haven’t come out to my band.” He looked away from Hal, staring off at a stained wall. “I’m sorry, but I’m not ready yet.” Hal sat beside John. His anger, moments before threatening to explode, subsided. He had been in the same place before. “I understand.” “How do you do it?” John asked. “I saw you and your lanky friend talking and he seemed alright with you flirting with another bloke in front of him. Forgive me if I’m wrong, but I’m assuming that you’re out.” “Yeah,” Hal said, shaking his head. Flashes of his old CO entered his mind, as well as the boys he used to know in high school. “But it wasn’t...you know what, that’s a long story. I’ll be here all night if I tell you the whole thing.” John smiled at Hal, putting out his smoke. “Want to go grab a beer and have a chat?” John leaned back against the wall of the bus. “No pressure, love, but I think I want to hear your story.” He pulled out his phone to presumably send a quick message to his bandmates.  “I don’t drink,” Hal replied, “but I’m always up for a pop and some nachos.” “I’ll pay,” John said, buttoning up his trenchcoat and patting Hal on the shoulder, “if you drive.” “You’re going to regret that,” Hal smirked, “because I’m not a cheap date.” John’s radiant true smile graced his face again. “Regret? Not you darling, not ever.” ***“So you got kicked out of the army for being bisexual, went to rehab, and now you’re in university to be a pilot?” John sipped his beer. “Christ, you weren't wrong. That is a story and a half.”Hal rested on the bar, picking at his third plate of nachos. “Yeah, I guess. The point is, being out wasn’t easy, and it wasn’t really my choice. If I hadn’t been discharged, I might not have come out at all. But I’m glad I did, and I’m okay now. Things are easier.” “How do you mean?” John asked. “I know my family and friends like me for me. Their acceptance of me isn’t based on some false idea of who I am. And if someone won’t talk to me because of it, then I didn’t want them in my life anyway.” John chomped on a peanut. “I can see it. You know, I admire you, Hal. Your life hasn’t been easy--” “Newsflash Constantine, neither was yours.” Hal interrupted. “Shush.” John playfully pushed Hal on the shoulder. “But you’re fearless. You really are fearless.” “Thanks, John,” Hal looked down at his food. He moved a piece of tomato around with a chip. John smiled. “Look, love. I really like you, and I know I’m not going to find another lay as good as you for a long time, but we can’t really date. After this tour, I’m going home to London, and I’m going to stay there for a good long time. I’d still quite like to stay in contact, though.” “So like, pen pals?” Hal fished his phone out of his pocket. “Maybe more like text buddies with the occasional nude selfie. You didn’t get to see all of my tattoos, after all.” Hal felt a similar stirring in his groin. “I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.” He slid his phone across the bar to John. “You’re a cool guy, John Constantine. You don’t need to hide behind a cigarette and a fake name to be awesome.” “But it helps,” John slid the phone back. Hal glanced down and saw that John put his real name in the phone, with his stage name next to it (as if Hal would ever meet someone else with the last name ‘Constantine’). “Thanks, Hal. A lot. I’m glad I met you.” “Ditto.” Hal pushed away the last of his cold nachos and jerked his head towards the exit. “How about you settle the tab and you can show me some of your ink before I take you back to the bus?” John chugged his beer and slammed a hundred-dollar bill on the counter. “It’s like you read my bloody mind, mate.” ***“You seem happy today,” Barry commented, reading over Hal’s shoulder. Barry immediately turned away when he saw the selfie John sent him from the tour bus bathroom. Honestly, Hal would have thought that Barry would have learned not to do that by now. Hal hadn’t known that inner thigh tattoos were a thing he liked, but John’s alchemy circle was working for him. “I can see why,” Barry cringed. “Did you guys do it? Are you two dating?” “Well, mom,” Hal teased, “yes, we did it twice, and no, we’re not dating. He lives in London, Barry. Neither of us wants a long-distance thing right now. We’re just going to text. He’s not out yet so I think he just needs someone to talk to about bi stuff.” “That’s super cool,” Barry said, flopping down on the couch next to Hal. “Is this your first casual, one-night stand since high school?” Hal considered for a moment. “Yeah, actually.” “How does it feel?”“It feels...I thought I’d feel dirty, but I feel like we connected on a human level. Plus, we were face to face the whole time. That’s...not something I’ve done before.” “Too much information.” Barry shook his head. “But cool.” Hal immediately texted Carol and told her about the show. Surprisingly, she had heard of Mucous Membrane before. With John’s permission, Hal sent her one of the tamer selfies he had received. Carol called him immediately, bombarding him for details. Hal just smiled and told her to get out of the office and go to more shows.***Hal groaned, shifting in his metal seat. He glanced around at the first years crowding into the classroom around him. Even though he was only 22, his 17 and 18-year-old classmates seemed extremely young. He was used to his advanced aviation classes, and being in such a large room full of freshmen made him feel both ancient and crowded. The tiny metal chairs and tinier metal surfaces didn’t help either. Hal glanced at his notebook, “Anthropology 101” scrawled across the first page. He immediately started drawing airplanes in the margins. He mentally kicked himself. He was so eager to get into his aviation coursework that he ignored all his electives. His advisor told him to get going on those or be stuck doing a bunch of pointless courses that he was going to hate in his last semesters. So “anthro” was his last class of the day, following economics and aviation safety. Hal wasn’t even really sure what anthropology was, but it was that or art history. His classmates seemed to quiet down. Hal looked up from his drawing of a Boeing 747 and stared at the man who was, presumably, his professor. The man had a certain air about him like he knew all the secrets of the world and was displeased by them. He had slicked-back jet black hair, a thin moustache and frowning eyes. His pinstriped green suit also accentuated an attractive figure. Hal found himself unable to look away. His classmates seemed to be in the same kind of awe, and a silence fell over the room as he descended the stairs to the front of the classroom. The man set his briefcase on the podium, the sound echoing. His eyebrows were perfectly manicured, accentuated by the questioning raising of his left brow. Hal also noticed, for the first time, that his teacher had a distinctly red tinge to his skin. “Good afternoon, welcome to Anthropology 101. ” the professor started, his voice a silky purr with a vaguely European accent. Hal felt a familiar stirring in his loins. Accents just...did it for him. “I am Dr. Thaal Sinestro. You will call me Dr. Sinestro, or Doctor. I only tell you my first name because I was told I had to.” The classroom laughed. Sinestro smirked. “And before you ask about my skin tone, I will tell you that I only just returned from Albania, where I was part of a team excavating Phoenice. I am extremely sunburnt, and I am aware that I look like a lobster.” “Best looking lobster I’ve ever seen” was out of Hal’s mouth before he could stop it. His classmates snickered around him. Hal wanted to dig a hole in the ground and bury himself beneath the humanities building, but instead of blushing or looking away Hal just pasted a smile on his face as Dr. Sinestro looked at him. He didn’t appear to be angry, but rather it seemed that he was assessing Hal. The professor shrugged. “That’s one man’s opinion, Mister….” “Jordan. Hal Jordan.” Sinestro smiled. “Mister Jordan, then. If you think flattery will raise your grades, you are sorely mistaken. Or you’ve never had good lobster.” The classroom erupted in laughter again, quietly quickly as Sinestro raised his hand. The man had gravitas, that was for sure, and a controlling aura that could keep a room full of freshmen quiet. “Now, please turn to the syllabus and I’ll explain what we’ll be doing this semester.” Hal smiled to himself, eyes flitting from his syllabus to his enchanting professor. Despite his brutal sunburn, Dr. Sinestro was probably the best-looking man Hal had ever seen. Even John on stage just didn’t compare. However, he was seriously considering dropping the class the longer Sinestro talked. Hal realized, looking down at the reading list,  that he had no idea what anything meant and he was having a lot of trouble concentrating on the definition of anthropology when Thaal Sinestro’s sexy, vaguely bored voice was explaining it. But he would push through it. It was just anthro 101. How bad could it be? *** “I can’t believe you failed anthro 101.” Barry chortled, nearly dropping his instant noodles on the ugly 70’s carpet of their apartment. Hal glared at Barry from across the table, poking at his salad. Barry lived off of shitty noodles, pizza and pasta. If he wasn’t a running addict, waking up two to three hours early to run the track at the school gym, Hal was sure Barry would have died of heart failure. “I didn’t fail anthro,” Hal retorted, mouth half full of spinach, “I just failed the first quiz.” “Anthro is the easiest class ever,” Barry waved his fork at him, smirking, “and you flunked the first quiz.” Hal groaned. “I just don’t get anything about anthropology. I don’t how you learn anything about how people act from looking at pots or watching a bunch of tribespeople who live in the rainforest cook leaves or some crap.” Barry shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I had no issues with it because forensics is kind of similar, it’s guessing behaviour from clues and stuff. Have you asked your professor for help?”Hal face planted into his salad. “Bar, I can’t. He’s too distracting. He’s so hot, you have no idea.” “What’s his name?” asked Barry. “Dr. Thaal Sinestro.” Hal drawled out Sinestro’s whole name. Barry typed the name into the university directory. “I had Dr. Leslie Tompkins. She was pretty good. A forensic anthropologist by trade. Oh, I found him.” Barry clicked on the picture. “I guess he’s hot? He looks like a European movie star from the ’40s. More handsome to me than hot.” “I think he is European.” “You definitely have a type, my friend.” Barry laughed. “His voice is so smooth, like chocolate.” Hal swooned. “I can’t concentrate on half of what he says.” “Maybe that’s why you failed.” Barry snickered. Hal lifted his face out of his food. “I mean, partly. You see me reading the textbook at night, dude. It’s not like I don’t try. I don’t get it.” “Yeah, you’re right. You work hard at school, I think I’m mostly just surprised.” Barry put his head in his hand, thinking. “Maybe you should talk to your prof, then,” Barry said, “or at least a TA. I’d help, but I don’t remember diddly squat about that class.” Hal nodded. “You’re right. I’ll talk to him tomorrow.” Barry smiled. “Hey, maybe you can score his number for some ‘extra tutoring’.” “I want that honours degree, dude. If I have to get an A on my back, I’ll get an A on my back.” *** Hal tried his best to pay attention to the lesson, but he was nervous. He swore that Sinestro knew it, and his eyes kept flicking in his direction, but there was no way his professor could pick him out from any of the others in the class. Hal had come prepared--he wrote out what parts of the quiz he didn’t get, and put stars beside the points from the lesson he wasn’t getting either. Though he put actual effort into his appearance, he wasn’t there to flirt. He had worked too hard, fought through too much, and wanted to be a pilot too badly to let anthropology be his undoing. His favourite forest green button-up, brown leather bomber jacket and tight grey skinny jeans were just an extra. As the other students started to file out, Hal made his way to the front of the class. Sinestro raised an eyebrow at him, which Hal was starting to think was his default way of acknowledging people. He wondered how that worked with the tribespeople in the forest the professor mentioned researching in his earlier years as an anthropologist. Hal led with his papers, trying to get through the through of freshmen. Finally, Hal was in front of his professor. Hal’s mouth was dry. Thaal Sinestro was much more attractive up close. Now that his sunburn was mostly gone, Dr. Sinestro’s skin was a warm olive tone. Hal could see the different shades of green and yellow in his eyes. He hadn’t expected his professor to have such beautiful eyes. It was quickly becoming a problem. “Can I help you, Mr. Jordan?” Sinestro asked, voice slightly less bored than usual.Hal cleared his throat. “You remember me?” “Well, it’s not every day one of my students flirts with me so openly, and by calling me a crustacean at that.” Dr. Sinestro smirked. “Quite bold.” “I, uh, well, I like shellfish.” Stupid! Hal screamed at himself. Stupid, stupid stupid! “But not anthropology, if your test scores are any indication.”Ah, Hal thought, straight to the point. He felt a little burnt at the insinuation. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, because…” Hal took a deep breath. “Look, Doctor, it’s not that I don’t try.” He opened his textbook and showed the notes covering the pages, then the notes from class jammed into the book. “I do the readings, I write notes in class, but I’m just having a lot of trouble getting it.” “Hmm,” Sinestro held out his hand, pointing at the notes. Hal passed it over hesitantly, noticing the airplane doodles in the margins. The professor read over the paper before handing it back to his student. “I can tell you’re working hard, Mr. Jordan. Forgive me for my earlier implication. I will do my best to help you.” Sinestro’s eyes made a pass over his body. Hal smiled. “Thank God, because I need a lot of help.” “Where shall we start?” asked Dr. Sinestro. Well, over the desk...Hal thought. He said, “I guess first...what is anthropology?” Dr. Sinestro groaned. Hal smirked.*** “You’re telling me, this whole time, that the definitions were this straightforward!?” Hal sputtered, nearly throwing his textbook on the ground. Thaal Sinestro grinned across from him at his desk. “Why don’t the textbooks explain it like that?” “I’m not sure.” Sinestro leaned back in his chair, spinning slightly from side to side. “Honestly, this is one of the better textbooks out there. Most of them use excessive academic language. It’s hard to stomach.” “I thought you’d be all for that,” Hal said, glancing around the office at the degrees, awards, pictures and maps covering the walls. It was hard to tell what colour the walls were underneath the organized spread of achievement. “You’re a doctor and all.” Sinestro shrugged. “This is a 100 level class. I want my students, at the very least, to learn something and come away with an appreciation for the subject. I can’t do that if the textbooks make sense to me and not to them.” “There’s something to that.” Hal nodded. “I already like anthropology better. It could just be your teaching, though.” Hal winked. Sinestro didn’t react to the flirtation. “I’m glad to have helped you. I hope that your next quiz is improved.” “If it isn’t, I’ll just have to come back.” Sinestro gave Hal a look that Hal couldn’t quite place. “You’ll have to bring me coffee, then. I may be contractually obligated to help you, but bribery is always appreciated.” *** Hal stopped by after receiving a 86% on his next quiz with a latte for Sinestro. Sinestro smiled and invited Hal in to watch a short documentary with him. ***Hal found himself visiting Thaal Sinestro in his office once a week. Some of the new concepts weren’t making sense, and he was stuck on his paper. That’s what he used as justification for sitting in Sinestro’s office until the sunset streamed in from the small windows. They often found themselves watching documentaries and videos, and Hal could easily get Sinestro going by asking about his many adventures on digs and interviewing tribespeople in remote regions around the world. He just loved listening to the man talk. Hal found himself texting Carol and John less and less as he got closer to his professor. Even Barry noticed that he seemed more and more distracted. As Hal got to know Sinestro, he wanted him more and more. Hal was pretty sure that Sinestro was starting to want him back. He had seen Thaal chase other students out of the office for him, and Sinestro was finally starting to ask him personal questions about his life and his goals. He seemed more relaxed, touching Hal on the shoulder or the arm when he made a good point or a halfway decent joke. Sinestro was calm, cool and collected, so it was hard for Hal to tell if this just meant Sinestro thought of him as a friend or if it was something more.   Hal started to notice Sinestro looking at his mouth more, even when he wasn’t talking. Thaal brought coffee for Hal too, if he purchased one for himself before office hours. And Hal was pretty sure Sinestro had given him a once over when Hal bent over to pick up a book he ‘accidentally’ dropped. Of course, there could be other explanations for Sinestro’s behaviour. Maybe Sinestro was just lonely. Hal had never heard him mention friends,  kids or even a partner. Asking out the professor was a risk, but Hal had never shied away from risks before. Why start now?*** “Off, Jordan,” Thaal said, levelling a glare at the man. “Come on, Sin,” Hal replied. Their tutoring sessions had been lasting longer and longer, and Hal had been getting bolder. It was clear that Dr. Sinestro was attracted to him, and he had been slowly pushing it. Today he wore Barry’s running pants, which he prayed his roommate didn’t notice were missing. They just hugged his ass better than anything in his own wardrobe. His favourite t-shirt from high school had the same effect, riding up as he parked his butt on the small table that was always inexplicably at the front of the classroom. “It’s not like you use this table.” “Still,” Sinestro snapped, “it’s not a chair. It’s not designed to hold any sort of weight.” “You calling me big?” Hal teased. “You’re almost a grown man, hardly a child.” Sinestro raised his eyebrow. “Though you certainly dressed like one today.” Hal hopped off the table and sauntered towards his professor. “You don’t like Top Gun?” “I don’t watch a lot of American movies.” Sinestro retorted. “Colour me unsurprised.” Hal stood next to Sinestro. “What do you watch, then?” “Is there something in the lesson you didn’t understand, Jordan?” Sinestro said evenly, jaw tight with irritation. Hal backed away. “Geez, sorry. I just wanted to ask if you could help me understand what ethnography means because I’m not getting it.” “Do you genuinely not understand even these basic terms, or are you looking for excuses to see me outside of class?” Sinestro asked, annoyance creeping into his voice. “I have no time for some starstruck boy straight out of high school desperate for attention.” Hal found himself growling in response. “I’m a practical guy, Sin. I need abstract concepts broken down into concrete language. Sorry, I’m not a social scientist, but I just want to do well in my electives so my average doesn’t get tanked. If you don’t know that about me by now, then I’m done.” Hal frowned. “And I’m not some ‘boy’, and I’m not fresh out of high school. I’m 22.” Thaal Sinestro actually looked shocked. Both eyebrows were raised. Hal took that as an accomplishment. “I...Forgive me, Mr. Jordan. Hal. You have such a cavalier attitude that I suppose I misjudged you.”“Yeah,” Hal retorted, “you did.” “Well, ethnography is basically the systematic study of a culture, a cultural object, or a person. It’s a very scientific branch of anthropology, very in-depth. Researchers often live with and form relationships with the people they study, which is why I don't do it. I would actually recommend that you take this approach to your final paper, and pick something you know very well to examine.” Sinestro spoke as Hal wrote everything down in his notebook. “Is that all you wanted?” “Yeah, I actually understand the readings better now. I’ll have to reread them later.” Hal said. “And that’s a huge help for my final paper.” As soon as Hal finished jotting things down, Sinestro slowly pulled the notebook out of his hands. Hal stared at him, watching Sinestro’s elegant hands place the notebook on the barely-used table. Sinestro purposefully stretched as he was doing so. Hal’s pants were suddenly, and noticeably, way too tight. “I said, is that all you wanted?” Hal shook his head. “No, sir.” “What do you want, Hal Jordan?” Sinestro purred. “Do you want me to bend you over this table and have my way with you?” “Yes,” Hal answered, without hesitation. “As I suspected.” Sinestro grinned devilishly and steepled his fingers. “But of course that isn't going to happen." Hal’s jaw dropped. “Why not?” “Stop making that face immediately. I didn’t say we weren’t going to, as the kids say, fool around--” “Please don’t say that,” Hal groaned. “--because, quite frankly, I think you were put on this Earth to tempt me. We’re just not going to disrobe in here.” Sinestro held out his hand. “Come along, Jordan. We’re going to my office, where I am going to take you on my desk. Any objections?” “None at all.” Hal sprang to his feet and practically ran out of the classroom, leaving his bag on the desk but using his textbook to cover his crotch. He didn’t want to risk running into his other professors with a massive erection, though he suspected that would raise his grade with some of them. Ten minutes later Hal was face down on an ancient desk, staring at the even more ancient carpet and assorted trinkets thrown to the floor by his very eager lover. Thaal Sinestro had a firm grip on his hair with one hand while the other had two fingers buried deep inside him. God, it had been too long. Hal’s dick pressed painfully against the desk and he rocked against the wood for some form of relief. “Stop that,” Thaal whispered in his ear, “I’ll tend to you soon enough,” Hal whined but stopped his movements. “You look so pretty, all flushed like this. You know that, don’t you? You’re a very pretty man, Mr. Jordan.” Hal keened, leaning back on Thaal’s fingers. Sinestro let go of his hair and ran a finger down his spine before yanking Hal’s head around for a bruising kiss. “Keep talking,” Hal panted. Sinestro entered him in one push. Hal almost screamed, but Thaal clamped a hand over his mouth. Hal licked the hand and Sinestro groaned behind him, pulling Hal back and reaching under the desk, wrapping a hand around Hal’s thick erection. The hand at his mouth left. It quickly went back to pulling Hal’s hair while pushing him into the desk while Sinestro focused biting on Hal’s neck. Sinestro growled in his ear and Hal came all over the wood. Sinestro followed quickly behind him, biting a very noticeable mark into Hal’s neck. He pulled out slowly and Hal savoured the sensation. Hal fought to catch his breath, rolling onto his back to get a glimpse of Sinestro. His normally perfectly put-together teacher was a mess. His expertly gelled hair had shiny strands poking out, framing Thaal’s face and neck. He was incredibly flushed, from his face all the way down to his chest, peeking out from his unbuttoned shirt. If Hal was younger he would have been hard all over again, but at the moment the desk just dug into his back. Sinestro leaned forward, finally giving Hal a proper kiss. "You're a wicked creature," he said against Hal's jaw. "What am I going to do with you, Jordan?" Hal slumped against him, boneless, and sighed. "Whatever the hell you want." *** “This can’t continue,” Sinestro panted into Hal’s ear, Hal pressed against the wall of his office with both legs wrapped around Thaal’s waist. “I could lose my tenure.” “Semester’s almost over, and you say that every time,” Hal said breathlessly, finding it hard to breathe with Sinestro’s body pressed so close to his own. “So that seems a little hollow. I won’t tell if you won’t.” Sinestro groaned. “You’re truly an incubus, Jordan. A beautiful creature dripping with sin. We both know I can’t stop.” “Then don’t, Sinestro.” Hal squeezed his legs, pulling Sinestro in further. “Don’t stop.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Maturation: To bring to full development Sinestro pinned him to the bed. Hal was a little bit love drunk and laughed when his back hit the mattress. Thaal growled and bit at Hal’s throat. Hal was glad it was Friday because he knew he was going to have massive hickeys all over his chest and neck. Exams stress even professors out, it seemed, because Thaal was a tightly wound coil of pent-up energy. Hal wrapped his arms around his lover’s neck, burying his fingers in Sinestro’s gelled hair and pulling him down for a kiss. He rutted against Thaal’s leg, feeling his partner tense above him. The grip on his wrists got tighter. Thaal let go to reach over to the bedside table, grabbing their half-empty bottle of lube. Hal was instantly grateful. He was a little sore already. Thaal insisted on starting as soon as Hal opened the door.  Hal kind of wanted to eat first, since he came to Sinestro’s house directly from school, but there would be plenty of time for that later. They had the whole weekend, after all. And Hal needed it. The end of another semester brought its own sets of stressors. He was doing okay in his 300 level physics and math classes, but English 325 was kicking his ass. The professor took marks off for every mistake in MLA formatting and Hal always seemed to forget what period went where when citing journal articles. He almost missed anthropology, but not enough to take another course in the subject. It wouldn’t be the same without Sinestro. Hal pulled one of Sinestro’s fingers off his other hand, the one not occupied with getting lube where it needed to be, and sucked it into his mouth. He needed some stress relief himself. Then, maybe, he could convince Thaal to watch a movie and get some supper. Maybe they could go out. Now that Hal wasn’t Sinestro’s student, surely it wasn’t a big deal… He wanted to go on an actual date. They were practically a couple already. Hal only texted John with bisexual life advice and Carol with normal friend stuff. He didn’t flirt with anyone and hadn’t been on a date in six months. Hal was sure Sinestro hadn’t either since he was with him every weekend. Hal was in too deep. He knew that. When he wasn’t with his former professor, Thaal Sinestro was all he thought about. When he was with him, he refused to leave his side. It hurt, truly, being a dirty little secret, but Hal’s adoration overshadowed it. He had never felt so intensely for anyone before, not even Carol. It scared him, but he wasn’t going to run from it. “Please,” Hal moaned, “I need you, Sin. I need you in me.” Sinestro plunged a finger into Hal’s tight passage. Hal keened, back arching off the bed. The phone rang. Hal pulled Sinestro into a kiss, trying to force him to ignore it. A pretty classical tune continued. Sinestro pulled his finger out and went to the ensuite bathroom to wash his hands, pulling his phone from its wall charger in the process. Hal glanced after him, trying to pick up pieces of the conversation. Sinestro let the water run, likely so Hal couldn’t hear him. Hal rolled his eyes and pulled himself up to a sitting position. He wanted his phone if only to play Sudoku until Sinestro was done. He stood up, stretching, wondering if he left it in his pants pocket or coat pocket. Thaal stormed out of the bathroom. “That woman!” he hissed, pulling his shirt back on. “She’s on her way here to return some stupid book!” “Who?” Hal asked. He sat back down on the bed, flopping into its softness. “Dr. Nodell. I lent her a book last week and she insists on returning it tonight because she’s in the area. I kept telling her not to worry, but she just wouldn’t take a hint…” “So?” Hal yawned, stretching out, trying to be seductive. Thaal wasn’t looking. “So, if she sees you here I will lose everything.” “I’ll just stay in here, then, with the door closed.” Hal crossed his arms. The blankets were soft and warm beneath him. “That’s not...what if she hears you? You’re going to have to hide.” “What?!” Hal jumped up, crossing the room towards his lover. “No way. No fucking way.” “Hal, stop being so juvenile, and…” A knock sounded through the house. Both men froze. “Quickly,” Sinestro threw open the door to his massive walk-in closet, “get in.” “No.” “Hal,” Sinestro pleaded as another knock sounded, “please.” Sinestro turned and left the room. Hal watched him leave, walked into the closet and shut the door behind him. *** Barry was half dozing on the couch when Hal got home. The slamming door jostled the man from his nap, and Hal almost felt bad. He cursed the fact that Barry was home at all. Fresh tears burned in his eyes, and he wiped his face with his arm. Hal didn’t want to see anyone, do anything, he just wanted to go to his room and scream into a pillow. His legs refused to carry him there. He just leaned against a chair, hands beating against the table. His roommate appeared at his side, awkwardly staring at Hal’s hands. “What’s wrong?” Barry asked, eyes wide with concern. “What happened?” “I need a drink and I’m not wearing any underwear.” Hal blurted out. Barry had been living with him for too long because he didn’t even flinch. “I’m not letting you drink, but I’ll get you some boxers from your room.” Barry went to Hal’s room and back with lightning speed, handing him a pair of boxers decorated with Christmas trees. They were probably the tackiest thing he owned, but they gave him a small level of comfort. Hal silently went to the bathroom to change. He noted a couple of fading love bites on his hips, quickly pulling his underwear over them to cover the traces of Sinestro on his body. What usually brought a smile to his face now just disgusted him. When he came out of the bathroom Barry was in the process of making them both a sandwich. Hal sat down at the table and pressed his head against the sub-par wood. Barry sat beside him, patting his back. “It’s going to be okay,” Barry kept repeating. “No, it’s not,” Hal said into the table. “Course it is,” Barry said. “Whatever this is, it’ll pass.” “That’s the problem.” Hal lifted his head off the table. “This crap keeps happening. I don’t think I’ve ever had a real relationship in my entire life. I’m always someone’s dirty little secret.” “Something happened with the professor?” “He told me to hide in a closet because some other professor was coming to the house to drop off a stupid book. And then he basically said we didn’t really know each other.”    “Ouch.” Barry squeezed Hal’s shoulder. “He sounds like a douchebag.” “I really liked him,” Hal admitted quietly. “I liked spending time with him. I liked talking to him. I thought he actually cared about me.” Barry was silent. He couldn’t meet Hal’s eyes, choosing instead to stare at the table. Finally, he spoke. “I feel really sad for you. I don’t really know what else to say, but I feel really sad for you.” “Why?” Hal said bitterly. “It’s sad that people treat you like that. You don’t deserve it.” Barry turned Hal by the shoulder to look into his eyes. “I hope you know that.” “I guess I don’t,” Hal laughed nervously, “because this keeps happening.” Barry didn’t laugh. “You’re a good person, Hal. People just suck.” Hal felt tears prick his eyes. “Thanks, Barry. I needed that.” Barry smiled at him, an expression full of warmth. “Wanna watch Terminator and order pizza?” “Hell yeah.” Hal smiled back. Two hours later, and well into Terminator Two: Judgement Day, Barry and Hal sat on the couch eating sandwiches. Hal’s phone went off again right as the Terminator sank into molten metal. The device was between Hal and Barry on their cheap IKEA couch, placed in such a way so that Barry could keep Hal from talking to Thaal but close enough for Hal to check at a glance if his mother or any of his other friends were texting. The high-pitched ding-a-ling signalled yet another text message. Barry groaned. Hal pointedly ignored it. Loud 80’s rock started to play and the phone made a low groan as it vibrated against the couch. Barry grabbed the phone and stuck it under the couch cushions, which only succeeded in making the groaning vibrations louder. “Can you just tell him to leave you alone or something?” Barry said through gritted teeth. “When I stormed out of his house I yelled ‘fuck you’. I thought that was pretty clear.” “This is worse than when you broke up with Arisia.” Barry pulled the phone out and took a look at it. “Carol says that your ex-boyfriend sounds like a dick and that she can come over if you want.” “Tell her I’m okay, but maybe we’ll have coffee next week.” Hal ran a hand through his hair. “I wish she would have dated me. I could have had a beautiful rich girlfriend.” “Who works so much she barely sees you,” Barry pointed out. “You know I love Carol, but she only has one gear and it’s full throttle.” “She’s a determined lady, that’s for sure.” Hal agreed. “But that’s still better than someone who tells you to hide in a damn closet because they can’t be seen with you. Or has you saved in their phone under ‘Haley’.” “It’s a bit sad that the most normal relationship you’ve had is with your sexy pen pal who chooses to call himself ‘Johnny Conjob’.” Barry glanced at Hal’s phone again. “Who, by the way, asked if there was anything he could do to cheer you up. I’m not even looking at the attached image.” Hal smirked, grabbing his phone and clicking on the message. “That does make me feel a little better, but you’re right and that makes me feel a lot worse.” “I’m sorry,” Barry said. Hal shrugged, feigning focus on the movie. “It’s not your fault. You’re just telling the truth.” The phone kept dinging. Hal groaned at the ceiling. “I just want to watch stupid American movies. Is that so much to ask?” “One, Terminator 2 is not stupid,” Barry glared at Hal, crossing his arms in mock offence, “and two, it seems like Sinestro really wants to talk to you. It’s been two non-stop hours of ‘ding ding, loud guitar solo, ding ding, loud guitar solo’.” “He probably wants to return the stuff I left at his place, so it doesn’t pollute his perfect minimalist condo.” Hal scoffed, punctuating ‘pollute’, ‘perfect’ and ‘minimalist’ with a dismissive hand gesture. “I don’t think someone who wants to get their ex’s stuff out of their apartment would call constantly for two hours. For what it’s worth, I think he genuinely wants to talk to you.” “Yeah,” Hal conceded, “probably.” “Do you want to talk to him?” Barry asked. “Obviously not, Bar. I’ve been ignoring him all night.” Hal glared down at his phone. “I can’t talk to him. I don’t even know what I’d say.” Barry nodded. “That’s fair. If you could find the words, would you?” Hal shrugged again. “I don’t know. I feel like I have to, eventually, but right now the wound is too fresh.” Hal smirked at Barry. “You’re a good friend, Barry, but I’m sure you’re just sick of him calling and interrupting the movie.” Barry gave Hal a playful punch in the shoulder. “You’re not entirely wrong.” He glanced at the clock. “Maybe he’ll go to bed soon. He is old, after all.” Hal nodded, turning back to the movie. John Connor and Sarah Connor were driving into the horizon, facing an uncertain future. There was no way to know if Skynet was destroyed or if the machines would stop coming, but they couldn’t go back to the way things were before. Maybe he was reading too much into a James Cameron movie, but something about the ending was oddly reassuring to Hal. He would keep going forward, no matter what was behind him, no matter how uncertain the road ahead was. Hal told Barry his thoughts. Barry laughed and told him to stop reading into a movie about shape-shifting death robots and pick the next film.***Hal glanced up at the door from his position on the couch, slumped halfway to the floor to join his collection of drumstick wrappers, pizza boxes and Pepsi lime cans. The knock was barely audible over Top Gun. The wound was less fresh, Hal having had time to think about what happened from Friday to Sunday, but it still stung. Hal glanced at the clock hanging over the TV. 7 pm. There was no way Barry was back from his date with Iris yet. They were probably still eating ice cream and talking about their future children or some shit. Hal shook his head. It wasn’t like he had actually been dating Thaal, even if he hadn’t fucked anyone else since the first time in the office. He had no reason to be so damn bitter, and even less reason to be bitter towards Barry, who had stayed up listening to him sob about his illicit affair after they made the mistake of putting on a romantic comedy. Plus, Barry had been feeding him ice cream, pizza and soda all weekend, making sure he didn’t touch beer. The knock sounded again. Hal stood up, groaning. He didn’t want to talk to anyone, much less some freaking Mormon who was probably at the door. He dusted the crumbs off his shirt and kicked the pop cans away from his feet. He wondered if the downstairs neighbours lost their cat again. He might be able to work up the ambition to look for Streaky. Of all the things Hal thought he’d see on the other side of his door on a Sunday night, Thaal Sinestro holding flowers and chocolates was the last. The man even had the decency to look sheepish. Hal shut the door. He heard ‘you can’t be serious, Jordan,’ followed by another knock. Hal opened it again. “What?” he snapped, glaring at Sinestro. “How do you even know where I live?” “I dropped you off here a few times, and I, of course, watched to make sure you got in safely.” Sinestro looked anywhere but Hal. “Is your roommate home? I would very much like to talk to you. Alone.” “Barry isn’t here, no, but that doesn’t mean I want to talk to you.” Hal leaned against the doorframe, glancing around to make sure his neighbours weren’t looking. “Why are you even here?” “As I said in my text messages and voicemails,” Sinestro's hands gripped the bouquet tighter, “I just want to talk. But I guess an apology is in order first. I’ve been told that flowers and chocolates are a good way to do so.” “Yeah, for women, maybe.” Hal did like chocolates. Maybe Barry could give the flowers to Iris. “Whatever, come in before someone sees you and ruins your precious reputation.” He moved out of the doorway, pointing at the inside of his house. “And if you judge me on my decor or my cleanliness, you’re out.” Sinestro sighed, stepping past Hal into the house. He slipped off his expensive loafers and walked in, likely noting the state of the place but mercifully saying nothing. Sinestro padded through the living room to the dining room, seating himself at the table as if he belonged there. Hal followed, scoffing. Of course, Sinestro would treat his house like this. It was how he treated him, after all. Hal sat across from Sinestro, leaning away from him. They sat in silence for a few minutes, Hal watching the ticking of the clock. Finally, Sinestro spoke. “I’m quite terrible at this. I don’t apologize often.” “Colour me unsurprised. Here we go.” Hal rolled his eyes.Sinestro looked nervous. He took a deep breath. “I’m so sorry, Hal. I didn’t mean to hurt you, but I understand how I did. I know that my actions and words made you feel shame, and I never wanted to do that to you.” Sinestro reached out a hand for Hal, who just leaned back further. Sinestro sighed. “I’m sorry that I made you feel like a secret.” Hal had never seen Thaal look contrite, or anything other than smug, aroused or annoyed. It was a new look. Hal liked it. “Apology accepted.”Sinestro smiled softly. “Thank you, my dear one.” “Why did you call me that?” Hal scoffed. “I thought we weren’t romantic or dating. You barely even know me.” “You love Top Gun and other 80’s movies. You prefer white bread but you eat whole wheat for your health. You cover fear with confidence. You’re practical without being pigheaded, stubborn without being rude. You look the best in green and you’re passionate about airplanes.” Sinestro listed, looking Hal directly in his eyes, hazel meeting warm brown. “I suppose I don’t know much about your past, but I do think I know a bit about the Hal Jordan of the present.” Hal was a little shocked but tried not to show it. Sinestro continued. “I remember that you told me that you worked very hard for your grades and are working hard for your future. We’re very similar, in that regard. I was born in a fishing village in Malta and I worked very hard to get scholarships to go to university. Then I had to work hard to come to America. I suppose I only saw my own feelings, my own journey, and it blinded me to your feelings. That is...well, I regret my actions.” Sinestro glanced down at the table. “You know, at home in Malta, people like us are more accepted. Things are different here. I suppose I forgot the lens you see the world with. For an anthropologist, that is simply unacceptable.” Sinestro looked back up at Hal. “I’m sorry for that too.” Hal leaned forward, placing his arms on the table. “What’s Malta like?” “It’s beautiful. I suppose everyone thinks that about their home, but Malta is truly breathtaking. There are no tides so the beaches are always full of people enjoying the beauty of the ocean. The people are hardworking, and they try to welcome everyone. I grew up in the village of Korugar, and our village was right on the water. I miss it, sometimes.” “Malta sounds awesome.” “It is,” Sinestro said wistfully, “I hope you see it someday. Perhaps you’ll fly over it. Maybe you’ll get to stop there for a layover.” “Perhaps,” Hal agreed. They sat in silence for a few moments. The clock ticked in the background. “What now?” Hal asked, finally, looking Sinestro straight in the eyes. Sinestro met his gaze. “What do you mean?” “Just that. What now? You’ve come here and apologized, I’ve already said my piece to you, how do we move forward? Do we move forward?” Hal leaned in without breaking his gaze. “What do you want from me?” Sinestro smiled softly. “I’d like to take you to dinner. I might possibly be persuaded to watch one of those awful American movies you like so much.” “Doesn’t answer my question,” Hal said. “Not all of it." “Must I spell it out?” Sinestro sighed dramatically. “I would think my wants are clear from my previous sentence.” “Yes, you must,” Hal said, the barest hint of frustration creeping into his voice. He laced his fingers together on the table. “I’m sick of vagueness and pretty words, Thaal. I want to hear, in plain, concrete terms, what you want out of our relationship. Or else we won't have one.” Thaal stared back, frowning slightly. His moustache twitched a little. Hal did not back down, continuing to stare into Sinestro’s hazel eyes with a steely gaze. He wasn’t bluffing, either. He had made far too many concessions for this man. Sinestro reached forward, clasping Hal’s hands in his own. “I want to move forward. I want to have a real relationship with you. I want to move beyond the physical aspect of what we do together and start prioritizing our emotional bonds.” He looked up sheepishly. “However, if I’ve hurt you in such a way that you don’t want that, I understand.” Hal smirked. “If I didn’t want that at all, you wouldn’t have made it past the front door.” Thaal smiled. It was a real, wide smile. It was one of the most beautiful things Hal had ever seen, made even more precious for its rarity. “You’re going to be the death of me, Jordan. It’s not such a bad way to die.” Hal unlaced his fingers, squeezing Sinestro’s hand back. “Does this mean we’re boyfriends now?” Thaal rolled his eyes. “Yes, Hal, it means we’re boyfriends now.” Hal leaned forward and planted a chaste kiss on Sinestro’s mouth. “Good. Now, about that date…” ***“I’m so nervous,” Hal admitted, looking from the controls of the small plane to his fiance. “I’ve been waiting for this moment my entire life. I can’t afford to screw up.” Sinestro squeezed Hal’s hand. “Exactly. You’ve been waiting for this moment for your entire life. You’re prepared. You’ve flown with the instructors, you’ve done the simulations. It’s just a matter of pushing through the nerves and taking this step.” Hal took a deep breath. “You’re right. I can do this. If I can’t fly with someone I care about, I won’t be able to fly at all. Also, I can’t let you die.” “Well, I always say you’ll be the death of me,” Sinestro replied, smirking, “but I never once thought it would be because you were unable to fly an aircraft.” Hal tried to laugh, but it came out as a wheeze. He didn’t know why he was still so sca--no, not scared, anxious, tense, nervous. This was his dream, wasn’t it?  He glanced at the ring on his left hand, the emeralds and topaz glinting in the afternoon light. Sinestro’s matching ring, right next to his, gave him some courage. At his darkest moments, when he was drunk in school, hiding in the closet, kicked out of the army, forced to face his demons in rehab, his vision was so clouded by pain that he couldn’t see himself ever achieving his dream. He was such a screw-up, a loser, a fa--he would not refer to himself like that, not ever, not anymore. Hal took a deep breath. He thought of his mother, his brothers, Carol (who had kindly lent him the aircraft he was practising in), John, and Barry. They had seen him through his bleakest moments. To give up now would be to let them all down. He thought of all the people who had ever called him a faggot, or a queer, or pushed him face down into the backseat of the car to try to pretend away their own homosexual feelings. He thought of his exes, using him to deal with their own insecurities. Rather than producing a cold, almost nauseous feeling combining regret and anger, he felt a fire burn inside. He would prove them all wrong. He would show them all that they counted him out too soon. He would fly, god damn it. He thought of his father, watching over him. He thought of his Dad’s smile, his devil-may-care attitude, and his unwillingness to back down from a challenge. More than anything, he would make his father proud. Finally, he thought of his fiance, sitting beside him in the cockpit. He never would have dreamed that he’d be getting married to his professor, a man who kept their relationship hidden and who caused him so much shame. But they moved past that. Their bond grew deeper. Though it wasn’t perfect, and they fought often, Sinestro was a doting partner who encouraged the best in Hal. Hal hoped that he could do even half of that for Sinestro. Hal smiled at his love, leaning over to plant a kiss on his cheek. His mind was made up. He began the sequence to start the plane. Sinestro watched with fascination as he went through the same steps he had done a thousand times. Hal felt a warmth bloom inside him. His willpower was unshakable. Hal slipped his father’s aviators on, smiling as wide as he could. “Let’s fly.”