Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

August 1989

"Missouri? You're sending me to Missouri?" Hal repeats. He can't have heard right. She can't really mean it, can she?

"I bet you can't even find it on a map." Jack comments. 

"I can too, Jackass-" 

" Harold . You're going, and that's final. Have your bags packed for Saturday morning. And for the love of God, don't take that jacket with you." Jessica Jordan says, turning away from her second child and effectively ending the conversation.

Hal does what's expected of him as an angry teenager - he storms out of the house, and slams the door behind him for good measure. He shoves his hands in the pockets of his jacket and starts on his way to the bus stop a few blocks away. 

He had only gotten home half an hour ago. He had been at an airfield again, Arden this time, to watch the pilots test a new jet. He had lain on the cracked and dusty desert soil outside the chain-link fence perimeter and watched it pass by overhead. He had grinned when he heard the familiar boom of the sound barrier being shattered. The sound often frightened others, but to him it invoked memories of growing up by the Edwards air base and hearing it regularly as jets flew over their house.

He used to bring girls, and the odd boy or two, out to Arden and Ferris. Impress them with stories his dad had told him, and put his arm around them whenever a sonic boom made them jump. That was when he was still allowed to drive his mom's car. He lost that privilege last month, and since then he's been relying on the bus and a few friends to take him there. No more nighttime desert makeouts for him. He still has the beach though, and over this summer he's figured out where the local cruising spots are. 

His mother had warned him a few days ago that if he was caught near a jet one more time she'd send him away, to somewhere far from the airfields. He never thought she'd actually make good on her threat. He's sure Jack snitched on him, judging by the way he had smirked at him when he walked in the door and their mother had started shouting at him. The dust in Hal's brown hair only confirmed his guilt. 

"Central City. What the fuck even is there in Central City?" He mutters to himself, kicking at a piece of gravel that had escaped someone's shrubbery and winded up on the footpath. 

He's trying to picture the city. It's got that big arch, hasn't it? No, that's St. Louis. Central City is the one with that massive bridge on the edge that goes nowhere, over the border into Kansas. There's some story behind that, probably, but he can't remember it.

His mother told him he'd be staying with some cop who has a foster son his age, and attending school with him for the term, which is starting on Monday. The cop was called Darren or something, Hal hadn't really paid attention. The idea of living with a cop was unappealing, not that he'd ever had trouble with them, but friends of his had. The thought of spending the start of his senior year in the Midwest with a bunch of hicks was the worst part. He should be here, in California, attending parties and getting his kicks, like he's been doing all summer. 

It's not as if he's some delinquent. He doesn't consider himself to be one anyway. He's not completely innocent, no, but he hasn't done anything that warrants sending him halfway across the country. Sure, he's had a few beers in his time, but who hasn't engaged in a little underage drinking? His mom doesn't know about his less than straight activities, he's been pretty careful about that. His grades are good for the most part - not spectacular, but he's not a complete slacker. Okay, so maybe he misses classes, or ditches school altogether sometimes, so he can go watch test flights. But it's the summer, that doesn't matter right now. Or it shouldn't. 

But to his mother, it does. She's told him time and time again that he's not allowed to become a pilot. He's not allowed to talk about planes, or even think about them. All the models he had constructed with his dad as a child were thrown out. The old picture books he had on aviation history were tossed. His well worn VHS copy of Top Gun had escaped her for a while, but one day he put it on and found that several episodes of Full House had been taped over it. That really pissed him off. 

She found several issues of Flying and Aviation History hidden under his bed, along with some old porn magazines he had found in Jack's room after he left for college. She had been more upset by the planes than the porn, and he wishes he could say he was surprised by that. 

The only flying-related thing he'd managed to keep was his dad's jacket. He'd insisted upon it. His dad had given it to him to hold that day, and he wasn't letting go of it. 

There's no way he's not taking it with him. 

He takes the bus down to the beach. It's one of the few quieter spots, which isn't populated by tourists at this time of year, or day. He watches the sun go down from a grassy dune, hidden away from everyone else. A group of kids his age are playing volleyball further down, with a makeshift net and a court drawn into the sand with pieces of driftwood. Usually he'd charm his way into joining them, but he doesn't much feel like it right now. They've got another week to enjoy the beach before school, but it doesn't seem like that'll be the case for Hal. 

Contrary to what Jack thinks, he does know where Missouri is. Roughly, anyway. It's landlocked. He can't imagine what it must be like to be so far from the coast, from the ocean. He can't believe there's some people who've never seen it.  

His dad wouldn't send him away. He wouldn't be telling him to give up his dreams of flying. His dad would probably be taking him inside the fence at Ferris to watch him fly. Like he had that day. 

The sky right now is bright orange, like the flames that had engulfed his dad's plane when it crashed to the ground. 

He knows his mother's fears aren't completely irrational, even if she has taken her hatred of aviation it to an extreme level. She's trying to protect him. She doesn't want what happened to her husband to happen to her son. It's her way of coping with what happened - avoiding the reminders of him. Unfortunately, Hal is a walking reminder. Because what's his way of coping with the loss? Trying to be just like his dad. 

It's not just his mom who's taken notice. Whenever he sees them, his dad's old pilot friends comment on how he looks more and more like Martin as he gets older. So do relatives at Jordan family get-togethers. Hal can always see the way his mom's mouth forms a line when she hears those remarks. 

Her fears are rational, yes, but he's not afraid. People expected him to distance himself from all things flying after he witnessed the crash. Any normal person would. But instead, he returns to the site of his trauma, and places like it, and risks witnessing another crash. He's even seen a close call or two over the years. The image of his dad's plane going down and exploding in a fiery inferno still haunts his nightmares, and yet he wants nothing more than to get in a jet himself. His mother doesn't understand it. Neither do his brothers. Hell, he doesn't even understand it. Is he crazy? It's debatable. 

He's so lost in thought he doesn't hear the footsteps behind him, and suddenly there's a hand on his shoulder. It's almost dark, the sky is now shades of blue, with a hint of green by the horizon. When he looks up he can see Brett grinning down at him. Dark, close cropped hair and a tank top displaying his muscles and tattoos.

"Oh. Hey." He says half-heartedly. Brett had been one of his...poorer decisions. He's three years older than Hal, and he had been rough in an unpleasant way. He'd had a hard time hiding his ragged voice, and his mom thought he had been smoking. He went with that explanation, even if it made her mad, because it was better than the truth. Hal's been avoiding him for a few weeks, but it seems his luck has just run out.

"Why don't we go somewhere more private and have a little fun?" 

Hal removes Brett's hand from his shoulder. "No thanks. Not really in the mood."

"You wouldn't be here if you weren't." Brett says, crouching down behind Hal and tightly wrapping his arms around him, pinning his arms to his sides. 

"Back off." Hal hisses, wiggling in an attempt to throw him off.

"You know you want it." He growls, nipping at Hal's neck with his teeth.

Hal is tall, and pretty strong, but the few years he has on him makes Brett stronger, and the position he's sitting in isn't giving him much room to move. He thrashes, kicking up sand. The logical thing would be to cry for help, but bringing attention to them would compromise him too. He tries to elbow Brett, but can't get his arm to move enough. This isn't looking good. 

Brett twists him around and shoves him face first into the sand. It gets in his mouth and he coughs and spits. He continues thrashing - he's not going to give up. No way. But he's pinned down, and Brett is grabbing at the waist of his jeans, trying in vain to tug them down while Hal fights. His heart pounds in his chest. 

"Get the fuck off my brother, faggot!" 

" Shit ." Brett hisses above him.

The weight on Hal's legs is suddenly gone. He hears the soft thump of feet running on sand and the rustling of the dry grass as Brett makes his getaway.

Exhausted, Hal shakily pushes himself up onto his elbows and spits sand out of his mouth. Relief washes over him. 

The next thing he knows there's hands under his arms, hauling him roughly to his feet. He's face to face with his unexpected saviour, Jack. The relief he had just been feeling is suddenly drowned out with shame.

"What the fuck, Hal?" Can't you go two hours without getting in trouble?"

Hal pushes away and brushes off his clothes. "Who says I was in trouble?"

"In case you didn't notice, he was going to fucking rape you." Jack spits, pointing down the beach in the direction Brett ran.

Hal doesn't reply, instead avoiding eye contact and running a hand through his hair to shake out more sand. It's true, he supposes, but hearing Jack say it out loud is strange. He feels he should have been scared by the whole ordeal, but honestly it just seemed like another shitty occurrence to top off what's been a shitty day. And not for the first time, he wonders what the hell is wrong with him. 

"Don't tell me you're into that shit."

The way Jack says it feels like a punch to the chest. He's not surprised by it, but it still hurts. 

"I'm not - I wasn't -" He meets Jack's eyes then, brown like his own, and stands up straight. He's not afraid of him. In fact, in the last year Hal has outgrown him, despite the two years between them in age.

"Not this time. But other times." Hal tells him. 

Jack sighs and grabs Hal's arm. Hal lets him tug him in the direction of the road, where his car is parked. They get in, and Jack starts up the engine. A few minutes later they're leaving the view of the coastline behind, heading back towards the city. 

"Are you going to tell her?" Hal asks. He can hear the weariness in his own voice, and feels it too.

Jack doesn't avert his eyes from the road. The street lights flicker over his steely expression. 

"No." He says at last. "Not this time. Listen, I couldn't give a shit if you're a pansy -"

"I'm not. I like girls too." 

"Whatever. I don't care. But let's be clear, Hal. This isn't me covering for you. I'm not telling her because Mom doesn't need another reason to worry about your ass." 

It would be a nice gesture, Jack keeping it to himself, if he hadn't emphasised that he isn't doing it out of brotherly affection. 

"If you know what's good for you, you'll stay away from guys like that. And you'll stay away from planes, too."

"I can't." 

"Yes you can. You just won't."

Hal rests his head on the window and looks out at the street they're driving down. Teenagers sitting in restaurant windows with friends, enjoying the last bit of their summer freedom. An old man shuffling out of a corner shop with a single carton of milk. A couple smoking in a doorway. They pass by the local recruitment centre. His gateway to freedom. Not a particularly appealing gateway, or an easy one, but it's the only one he has.

"I'm going to enlist." He tells his brother. 

He's never spoken about his plans with any of his family, but they must know. They're all counting down to the 20th of February, just like he is. 

"Mom will stop speaking to you."

"I know."

Jack scoffs. "You really don't care, do you?"

"I do care! Of course I do. It's not my fault she won't support me."

"And you know why she won't Hal? You know why she is so desperate to stop you?" 

"I'm not gonna end up like dad." 

"No, you will . You know you will. Someday you're gonna crash just like he did, and you don't even care, because you've got a fucking death wish." 

Does he have a death wish? Who knows. Death doesn't scare him, that's for sure. But then again, very few things do. 

They pull into their driveway and Jack cuts the engine. He turns to Hal.

"You've got an opportunity here to turn your life around. And if not for your own sake, do it for her."

Jack opens the door and climbs out of the car, then slams it shut again. Hal sits in the passenger seat for an extra moment before getting out. Jack is already at the front door, turning the handle. 

"Jack?"

His older brother grunts in response.

"Thanks. For saving me earlier." Hal says quietly.

"Don't count on me saving you next time." 

He slips in the door, leaving Hal standing by the car, feeling like something has been scooped out of his chest, leaving a hole there. He stares at the house. It's a small bungalow on the edge of the city. They moved here after the accident, and it's been his home since he was twelve.

It hits him for the first time all that he's giving up by following his dreams. Jack's right. If he joins up, she'll stop speaking to him. It's possible Jack will too. He won't be welcome back here when he gets leave from the Air Force.

Is it worth it? 

He looks up, and although there's too much light pollution to see any real stars, he spots the blinking red light of an aircraft overhead. 

Hal slams the car door shut and goes inside. The light is on in the kitchen when he looks down the hallway, and he sees his mother sitting at the kitchen table, her back to him. She had to have heard him come in, and yet she hasn't moved. He keeps walking towards his bedroom and quietly shuts his door with a click. 

He kicks off his shoes and flops onto his bed. The lump in his throat which had started building up the minute he stepped into the house is almost painful now. His eyes prickle with tears and he squeezes them shut. He fights them for a little while, but for once he's tired of fighting. He rolls onto his side and eventually lets the tears dampen his pillow. 

Chapter Text

The bells ring as the door of the shop opens.

"Hey, Barry." The middle-aged man sitting behind the counter greets as the teenager enters. Bryan Adams's 'Summer of '69' plays on the little radio next to the till. An electric fan hums and slowly turns back and forth next to it. 

"Hi, Craig."

Sunlight streams in through the large windows of the shop, illuminating everything. Barry walks towards the counter,  glancing at the racks of comic books on the way. He clutches the strap of his backpack in a habitual, comforting way. 

Craig instinctively reaches behind the counter and picks up a cardboard box. He plonks it onto the table and adjusts his large glasses. He quickly flicks through the thin brown paper bags in the box. Barry patiently waits in front of the till, looking at the posters advertising various comic series, and even a fanzine or two. 

Craig stops. "Aha. Here we go." 

He pulls out one brown paper bag filled with several comics. Barry's name is written on it in black pen. "Okay, The Gray Ghost, Star Trek, JSA, Green Lantern and The Flash . That all?" 

Barry nods. He's had more or less the same comic pull since he was ten. "Yeah, thank you. I might have a look around before I pay, if that's okay?"

"Sure, go ahead." Craig says, well used to this by now. He puts the box back under the counter and leaves Barry's bag out. The shopkeeper leans back in his chair, turning up the volume on the radio as 'Words Don't Come Easy' by F.R. David starts playing. 

Barry wanders around the shop, seeing if there's anything else that takes his fancy. He picks up a back issue of Fantastic Four - he'd heard the last story arc was good. He spends a while browsing, letting time slip away from him. People come and go from the shop to collect their Wednesday pulls while he peruses the brightly-coloured comics. He doesn't pay them much attention, and they don't take much notice of him either. 

He knows he should try and make more of an effort to talk to people, especially here, where nobody is going to judge him for being a nerd. But alas, every time he opens his mouth either he says something awkward, or no sound comes out at all. 

Craig has invited him to join the weekly D&D he runs in the shop on Friday nights several times. Barry always replies with 'maybe next week' or 'I have plans .' The latter is almost always a lie. He rarely has plans. 

The D&D sounds like fun, but he's worried he isn't creative enough to come up with a cool character, or that people will be annoyed at him for trying to join in the middle of a campaign. 

He almost sighs aloud to himself. Another summer gone. He had told himself that he'd try to be more outgoing this summer, and make more friends. Darryl had made a point of lifting Barry's curfew altogether, trying to get him to go out while most people were trying to keep teenagers at home, but Barry is always back by dark, or before it. 

His dad tends to ask about his social life a lot, and Barry usually makes up something about hanging out with Daphne Dean and her friends. Henry always nods and tells him it sounds like fun, but Barry knows he doesn't believe him. He hates his dad thinking his son is a loner, but it's not far from the truth. 

He does hang out with Daphne sometimes, but not as often as they used to, and when they do it's almost always just the two of them. She actively tries to include him in things, but he always feels like his presence is...unwanted by everyone else when they're with a bigger group. He often hears her friends whisper to each other, asking why Daphne invited him. 

Barry takes a glance at his watch and is taken aback at the time. He's been here for over an hour. He's still holding the Fantastic Four comic he picked up, and he feels silly, carting it around the shop with him for so long. 

Barry shrugs off his bag and goes back to the counter to pay Craig and collect his pull. He thanks him and puts the comics into his bag. One good thing about lacking a social life - plenty of spare money for comics. 

He leaves the shop and steps out onto the street, taking a second to adjust his eyes to the bright sunlight. It's hot and humid, and for the hundredth time he wishes for the summer to be over. It's not just the unbearable weather that he can't stand, but the boredom. It's hard to find ways to fill the time when you don't have many friends to hang out with. He'd much rather be sitting in a chemistry class. 

Barry starts walking, staying in the shade of the buildings as much as possible, and twenty minutes later he's at his usual shaded spot, under a tree in a small park. It overlooks the Missouri river, which runs between Central City and Kansas. Further downstream he can see the infamous Bridge To Nowhere. 

He pulls out a sandwich he had picked up on the way and unwarps it. Barry quietly reads his comics while he eats. Every once and a while he cracks a smile at a joke, or gasps at a plot twist. 

He's so absorbed, he doesn't notice the boy sneaking up behind him and hiding on the other side of the tree. He reaches around the trunk, bottle in hand.

Barry splutters in shock as cold water is suddenly poured on his head. He ducks and tosses his comic out of harm's way.  When he turns the boy has already run back to his friends. They're all pointing and laughing. The ringleader is Lance Basilla, the guy with the bottle was Chris McCall. 

It's not the first time they've bothered him. Far from it. Back in fifth grade Barry had stood up to them to protect another kid they were bullying. They moved their efforts onto him and never moved off. 

Barry glares at them, which only serves to make them laugh harder. As if he could ever be a threat to them. He sighs and shakes the water off as best as he can. What a waste, he thinks. 

On the bright side, his comics escaped. And hey, it wasn't Fanta this time. His hair won't be sticky and smell like oranges. 

Barry packs up and heads home. To his surprise, Darryl is already back from work, sitting at the small kitchen table and reading a newspaper.

"You're early." Barry remarks, walking into the kitchen and shrugging his bag off his shoulders. 

"I've got some news."

Barry's heart leaps, but he tries to keep a neutral face. He knows it's highly unlikely, but he can't help but wonder if there's been some new evidence in his mother's case. Something that could prove his dad's innocence and get him out of prison. 

It's unlikely, but he has to hope. 

"Remember I was telling you about that old friend, Jessica Jordan?" Darryl says, folding up the newspaper. He's still wearing his work clothes. 

Barry nods, sitting down at the table. He tries not to look crestfallen. Darryl had mentioned the possibility of some Californian kid coming to stay with them a few weeks ago. Nothing had exactly been finalised, and Barry had sort of hoped it wouldn't be. 

"Well, she called me earlier, saying she'd finally made up her mind. Harold will be flying in on Saturday morning." 

Barry wonders what on earth this Harold could have done to warrant his mother sending him halfway across the country. He can't imagine having much in common with him.

"So are we putting the spare mattress in my room?" Barry asks.

"If that's alright with you."

"Yeah, it's okay."

As an only child, Barry's never had to share his room, and he hasn't had a sleepover since elementary school. Having a stranger sleeping on his floor will definitely take some getting used to. 

"I'm sorry it's such short notice, but I think this will be of benefit for you both. He might help you get out of your shell a bit, and you can keep him on the straight and narrow."

This could be of benefit. He might make a friend. Or Harold could turn out to be an asshole, and Barry's life will become hell. He really hopes it's the former, but his optimism has let him down many times.

"Have you met him before?"

"Not since he was ten or eleven. Doubt he remembers me." Darryl shrugs. "So, what do you want for dinner? Pasta?"

"Sounds good."

The phone in the hallway rings after dinner, and Darryl gets up from the couch to answer it. Barry continues watching the documentary that's on TV. It's about the moon landing. It's a repeat, he's seen it already.

Darryl pokes his head round the living room door, holding the phone's receiver up to his chest. "It's for you."

Barry gets up to take it from him, and Darryl sits back down. There's not many people who could be calling him. Barry steps out into the hallway so the cord is less stretched, and leans against the wall. He puts the receiver to his mouth. 

"Hello?"

"Hey, Barry."

"Oh, hi Daphne." 

"How's it going? Any good comics today?"

He smiles. She doesn't read many comics, not anymore, but she always remembers they come out on Wednesdays. 

"Yeah, Flash was great, as usual. I really liked the new issue of Green Lantern though. He had to fight a guy wearing wooden armour, but he found a really clever way of getting around it by - sorry. Nevermind. I'm rambling."

"No, no, it's okay! I might borrow it from you some time. Actually, I called to ask if you were free Saturday. We're all going out to Drake Lake one last time before school starts if you want to join us. I'm driving, I can pick you up."

"I...can't."

"You can't? Or you don't want to?"

"No, I really can't. There's a student from California coming to stay with us, he's arriving on Saturday."

"Oh? Well, maybe he could come along, meet some people before school starts." 

"Oh...I don't know."

She giggles. "Oh, Barry. A few hours of socializing won't kill you."

He rubs the back of his neck and sighs. "I know..."

"Well, if you change your mind you're welcome to join us, and so is your Californian. Is he cute?"

"I don't know what he looks like. I mean, not that I'd be a good judge of that or anything. All I know is that his name is Harold, and he's some kind of delinquent." 

"A delinquent, huh?" She says, sounding amused by his choice of words, "I guess we'll see. Give it some thought, okay? It would be nice to see you there."

"I will."

"I gotta go before my dad starts complaining about the phone bill. Bye!"

"Bye, Daph."

She hangs up. He listens to the tone for a second or two, then puts the phone back. Rather than watching the rest of the documentary, he decides to go up to his room and enjoy having it to himself while he still can. 

Chapter Text

On Friday evening Hal takes a visit to his dad's grave. It's modest. A simple grey headstone with a cross carved into it, and the words ' Martin Jordan. Beloved husband and father.' His dad had been Catholic, but he never took Hal and his brothers to mass or anything. Hal can't remember him being very religious, though he was definitely scolded for 'taking the lord's name in vain' a few times. As if his dad didn't cuss himself. 

There's some old, battered rosary beads draped in front of the headstone. Hal thinks Nana Jordan left them there before she died. She's buried a few plots down. 

Next to the beads is a burnt out candle in red plastic casing that hasn't been lit in a while. There's a small American flag stuck in the dirt, which is almost bleached white from sun exposure. Beside it is an old model plane, the only one that hadn't been thrown out or given away. Hal had placed it there years ago, and it hasn't moved since. 

It's always odd to look at the headstone and the grass. His final resting place, so they say. Hal doesn't consider it to be. He went down at Ferris, not here, but he's not allowed to go near Ferris. He's not allowed to go anywhere right now, he's pretty grounded, but his mom allowed him this.

His memories of the days after the crash are a bit of a blur. There's only some bits and pieces he remembers. There had been some sort of fuss over the planning of the funeral. His mom, being Jewish, wasn't very familiar with the Catholic customs or prayers, but still wanted to play her part in planning it. She had been stressed out of her mind and grieving at the same time. 

Hal hadn't exactly been to many funerals prior to it, Catholic or otherwise. He'd never heard the rosary be prayed in full till then, and holy hell was it long. Jack had to take Jim out two 'decades' in, because he was little and didn't understand that he had to be quiet. His cousins had taken turns starting each 'Hail Mary' prayer, and he felt bad that he couldn't join in, even though he didn't think his dad would have cared. 

It had been a closed casket funeral. Nobody said anything to him, but he knew why. His dad had been burned so badly he was unrecognisable. Not even the best of morticians could have gotten around that fact. Not being able to see him made it harder to accept that it was actually him in the coffin. It didn't seem real.

Relatives and family friends put their hands on his shoulders and told him they were sorry. They had treated him with extra caution, more so than Jack or Jim, like he was a wounded animal. He heard them whispering about him over their sandwiches. Saw the whole thing, poor boy. What was Martin thinking, bringing him to the airfield? He knew the risks.

Hal had gone to sleep wearing his dad's too-big jacket, swimming in the brown leather every night for a week. He only took it off when he had to dress up for the funeral, and once it was over it was right back on him again. 

He puts his hand in one of the pockets of it now. It fits him a lot better these days. He pulls out a lighter and crouches down, tilting the candle to see if there's any stub of the wick left. There is, so he lights it, and then stands back again. 

"Hey, dad. I won't be able to come by again for a while, so I thought I'd say hi. Mom is sending me away. I don't really want to leave, but Jim pointed out one upside to it - I get to fly there. I'm amazed she didn't try to send me on a bus ." He can't help but smile a little.

"It's just a commercial Boeing, not exactly as exciting as an F-16, but it'll be the first time I've been in the air since you…" he trails off.

"Anyway. I went out to Ferris two weeks back. I saw Carol."

He doesn't see her very often, only spots her occasionally from a distance when he's hanging around the Ferris airfield, or in the city. He'd probably be able to get a lot closer to the planes if he befriended her properly, but he doesn't want to run into her dad. So he settles for distance. 

She goes to a private school on the other side of the city. He came across her at a party a month or so back, and they got talking. He had been drinking a little, and he thinks she had been too. It's probably how they got onto the topic of the crash. She had been there that day too. It was somewhat of a comfort to know that someone shared his trauma, even if she seemed far more well-adjusted than him. 

Their talking turned into making out at some point, and he can't quite remember who initiated it, but it was good. That's all it was though. Hal had definitely considered her a few times over the years. She's smart, attractive, and they have a common interest in flying. But he just can't get past the fact that Mr Ferris had some responsibility in his dad's death. 

"Y'know, she's started taking flying lessons. Private ones. So I guess she'll be a pilot before me." Hal says.

He can't help but be a bit resentful of her. She's got pretty much everything that he wants. She doesn't have to enlist for a chance at earning her wings like he does. She won't have to run away. 

"Mom told me not to bring your jacket with me. She hates me wearing it all the time, because it reminds her of you. But I promised you I'd hold onto it. Besides, Missouri gets cold in the winter, right? So I'll need it." 

Hal wonders if it'll snow. He's never seen snow in real life before. 

"That's kind of it, really. I'll be back in a few months. Bye, dad." 

He crouches down and blows the candle out. 

There's a knock on his bedroom door that night, while he's packing his suitcase last minute. Hal grunts in response and the door opens. Jim pokes his head into the room. 

"Hi, Hal."

"Hey." Hal replies, not looking up from the t-shirts he's folding.

"You packed yet?" The twelve-year-old asks, stepping inside. 

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Hal mutters, then regrets it. Jim doesn't deserve his frustrations right now. He's probably just trying to say goodbye to his big brother. Once Jack goes back to college he'll be on his own. Hal feels bad, but it's good practice. He'll have to leave Jim when he joins the Air Force anyway. 

"Sorry. I'm almost done." Hal says, walking over to his small collection of cassette tapes on the shelf by his desk, so he can decide which ones to bring with him. 

"Will you write to me while you're away?" Jim asks, looking at him through glasses too large for his face. It surprises Hal a little bit. 

"Uh, sure. If you want me to." 

"I'll write to you too." 

Hal nods. At least there's someone who's sad to see him go. 

"Mr. Frye will meet you at the airport. Call me as soon as you get there." Hal's mom says, reaching out to fix the collar of his shirt. He's embarrassed, but tolerates the gesture. He had  been ordered to put on his 'good clothes' for the trip, the ones he wears on the rare occasion they go to the synagogue. He wanted to tell her that nobody dresses up for flights anymore, but starting an argument seemed like a bad idea today. 

They're at departures, and about to say goodbye to him until winter break. His mom gives him a hug, which is something she hasn't done in a while, so he's not sure how to react to it. She tells him to stay out of trouble and be polite to Mr. Frye. Jim also gives him a hug, and Hal ruffles his hair a little. Then there's a very awkward moment with Jack, who doesn't make any move to hug him, but instead just nods his head. 

Hal turns around then, gripping his suitcase, and walks towards security, holding his head high. He tells himself not to get upset, because he'll be coming back to them this time. Next time he leaves he probably won't. 

He gets through security without hassle. The staff are nice to him once they realise he's an unaccompanied minor, but because he's almost eighteen, they don't baby him. He appreciates it. He's asked if he's ever flown before, and he can't help but smile and tell them about his dad. He doesn't mention the crash. 

Once he's in the terminal he goes to the bathroom and changes into jeans and a sleeveless white t-shirt, then throws his jacket over it. Much better. 

Hal picks up a Star Trek comic book in the little newsagents to read on the plane, and while he waits for the boarding call he watches the planes taxiing their way onto the runway and taking off through the large window. Now that his mom is out of sight he can let himself get excited. 

He doesn't have to wait long, thankfully, and he makes sure he's one of the first on board. He's never flown commercial before, and he's amazed by just how spacious it is compared to the tiny cockpits his dad used to sit in. 

The flight attendants go through the safety procedures, and for once he pays attention. His dad used to just say 'put on your seatbelt and don't touch anything, don't want you accidentally ejecting yourself now, do we?'

When they finally taxi onto the runway he's buzzing with anticipation. There's an old man in the seat next to him who raises an amused eyebrow. 

"Nervous, son?"

"No, sir. I'm excited." 

Hal relishes the sound of the engine - though it's not as loud as a jet - and the rumble of the takeoff. And then they're in the air, and he's watching the buildings and people on the ground get further and further away. They soon break through the clouds and fly above them. 

He forgets about the comic he was supposed to be reading, and spends most of the three hour flight staring out the window, listening to the tapes he brought on his Walkman. Queen, Bowie, Elton and U2. He's got the Top Gun soundtrack too - he had hidden it by putting a different sleeve in the case. He wishes he had thought of that sooner, because he might have saved the movie that way too. 

They arrive in Central City at 1:00pm local time, and Hal can't help but feel disappointed when the wheels hit the runway. When the plane lands people start applauding, which baffles him, but he joins in. 

It's hot and humid when he steps off the plane, and he slips on his sunglasses. There's no ocean breeze blowing in, making the air feel heavy. He probably looks stupid wearing the heavy leather jacket in such weather, but he doesn't really care. Hal follows the other passengers across the baking concrete to the terminal, the heat radiating off it distorting everything. The signs direct him to baggage reclaim. 

Their flight's luggage hasn't come out onto the carousel yet, so he approaches the wall of payphones. Hal puts his carry-on bag in between his feet and fumbles with the change in his pocket, looking for a quarter. 

He slots it in and dials their house phone. He leans against the wall and listens to the dialing tone as he waits for it to connect. Music plays over the airport's sound system. Hal thinks the song is ' The Living Years' by Mike and the Mechanics. Not really his kind of thing. 

"Hello?"

"Hi, Mom. I survived." He tells her. She can't see the smug look on his face, but she must sense it. 

"That's not funny, Harold." Jessica scolds, and he bites his lip to stop himself from laughing.

The joke might have been in bad taste. Okay, definitely in bad taste. He knows she was probably counting every minute past the time his flight was due to land, and getting more and more worried. But hey, if anyone is entitled to crack a joke about it, it's him. 

"Are you with Mr. Frye yet?"

"No. Decided to call you first. I'm waiting for my suitcase to appear." He says, glancing back over at the carousel. A second later he sees it come out onto the conveyor belt. "Oh, there it is now."

"Grab it before it gets stolen. And don't keep Mr Frye waiting, go find him. Call me again tonight, alright?"

"Yes ma'am." He says, then hangs up. 

It's not long before he's walking through arrivals and looking around for Darryl Frye. He finally spots a middle-aged man in a blue button-up shirt, holding a sheet of paper with Harold Jordan written on it in black marker. He makes his way over. 

"Mr. Frye?" he asks. 

"Ah, there you are, son." He greets with a smile, holding out his hand. Hal shakes it. "My god, you're the spitting image of Martin." 

He feels his chest swell with pride at that. "Thank you, Sir."

"It's alright, you can just call me Darryl." 

Hal nods. "Okay. I uh, usually go by Hal." 

"Alright, Hal. You hungry?" 

Hal nods again, "Yes Sir-Darryl. Sorry." 

Darryl laughs, and starts walking. Hal follows him towards the exit. "It's alright. Took Barry a long time to stop calling me sir too."

"Is he your foster son?"

"Yes. He's at home, tidying his room. We'll pick up some lunch on the way. How do burgers sound?"

Chapter Text

Barry is supposed to be tidying his room, and it's not going very well. Time ran away from him, like it always does, and he left it to the last minute. It's also only now he's realising how much his room exposes him as a nerd. 

He picks up his old Flash helmet replica and puts it on top of his wardrobe along with an old science project. The corkboard with all of the evidence and news articles from his mother's case is hidden in the back of it, turned around. That would definitely freak out his guest. He usually has to hide it from Darryl anyway, so it's pretty used to spending time in his wardrobe.  

Barry gathers up a stack of books on his floor and places them on his desk. He picks up the first one and opens the front cover. He cringes. This was due back at the library two weeks ago. He glances back at the stack and wonders how many of them are also late, and how much in fees they'll incur. The librarian is very nice, and she likes him, but her patience will eventually wear thin. 

"Hey."

Barry yelps in a totally manly fashion and drops the book on his foot, causing him to hiss in pain. He snaps his head around.

Leaning nonchalantly against his door frame is probably the most handsome guy he's ever seen. His own age, anyway.  Wavy brown hair, side-parted. Longer in the back, as is the fashion. His skin is an attractive golden brown from the sun, like a movie star. He's got a sort of Tom-Cruise-in-Top-Gun thing going on, with the sunglasses and the leather flight jacket he's wearing. Daphne read in some magazine that Tom Cruise is only 5'8" though, and this kid is a lot taller than that. He's definitely taller than Barry is. 

He closes his mouth, hoping his gaping wasn't horribly obvious. Then he remembers that he has to reply, and he opens it again.

"H-hi."

"Sorry. The door was open. I didn't mean to scare you."

"No, no, it's okay! I'm Barry. Allen. Barry Allen." 

His guest smoothly takes off his sunglasses, revealing warm brown eyes, and Barry has to stop himself from swooning at that gesture. The other boy puts his hand out. 

"Hal Jordan."

What ensues is probably the most awkward handshake Barry's ever experienced in his life. 

"I thought your name was Harold." Barry says, mid shake.

"I prefer to go by Hal."

Barry nods in understanding. "My full name is Bartholomew." 

Oh god. Why would he tell him that? 

"That's...unfortunate." Hal says, making a face that lies somewhere between pity and amusement. "Uh, Where should I put my stuff?"

"Oh! Uh, wherever you want. Just - make yourself comfortable." Barry gestures widely around the room.

"Thanks." Hal says, stepping into Barry's room properly. He drops his bag and suitcase on the floor.

"The mattress is for you, but you can sleep in my bed if you want." Barry tells him, immediately realises what that sounds like, and backtracks. "And I'll sleep on the mattress instead, y'know. I don't mind. It's quite comfy actually. We take it camping sometimes."

Hal gives him a little smirk. He's clearly enjoying Barry making a complete fool of himself. "The mattress is fine."

Barry rubs the back of his neck and looks at the floor, embarrassed. 

Hal takes a glance around the room. He might as well be looking into Barry's soul. His room is his safe space, and he can't help but feel a little violated. Hal's eyes settle on the Star Trek III poster. He points at it.

"You like Star Trek?"

"Uh...yeah." Barry wonders if he should have taken the poster down. All of his posters. They're exposing him too much. Hal is probably going to make fun of him for his nerdy interests.

"Awesome, me too. I like space." 

Barry is gobsmacked. So they do have something in common, other than age. 

"So do I." Well duh.

"Uh...we picked up some burgers on the way here. Better eat them before they're cold." Hal throws a thumb over his shoulder, pointing towards the door. 

Barry nods in agreement, and Hal walks out again. Barry hesitates in the room for a moment, so he can openly cringe at how awkwardly he handled that, and then follows him downstairs to the kitchen. 

"You two acquainted? Good." Darryl says when they walk in.

They pull out chairs and join him at the table, picking out their burgers. Darryl chats with Hal. He asks what his school is like back home, if he plays any sports (while side-eyeing Barry), if he can drive (once again side-eyeing Barry), that kind of thing. 

Hal isn't a part of any teams, but likes baseball and volleyball. He also surfs from time to time, because of course he does. 

Hal has a driver's licence, unlike Barry, who relies on the bus and his own two feet to get places. Darryl has offered to teach him how to drive plenty of times, but the idea of it stresses him out for some reason he can't explain. Besides, he likes people-watching on public transport. There's no time to think when you're the one behind the wheel.

"Barry, why don't you take Hal out this afternoon and show him around, introduce him to a few people?" Darryl suggests, snapping him out of his thoughts. 

Barry's stomach drops. 

"Uh...I don't think there's anyone around."

"Why not?"

"Daphne said everyone was going out to Drake Lake today."

"Oh, we used to go out to Drake Lake all the time as kids. I can drive you boys out there after lunch if you'd like?"

"Yeah, that sounds great, actually." Hal says. 

Great, Barry thinks , My excuse for getting out of socialising wants to socialise. He can't argue without making himself look like a loser, so he goes along with it. 

"Sure...why not?" 

Once they finish their lunch, they grab some towels and snacks, shove them into their backpacks and get into Darryl's car. The lake is about a twenty minute drive away. 

Hal is amicable and talks a lot the whole way there. He asks Barry who his favourite Star Trek character is and they launch into a conversation about it. It puts Barry more at ease, and distracts him from the impending disaster that undoubtedly awaits him at the lake. Darryl has no idea what they're talking about, but he smiles every once and a while, probably glad to see Barry talking to someone his own age.

Hal's favourite character is Captain Kirk, which doesn't surprise Barry at all. He's known him for barely an hour, but Hal certainly has that dashing, main character charm going on. Barry quietly admits that he likes Spock, and Hal agrees that he's pretty cool too. "After all," He says, "You can't have one without the other." 

Drake Lake is in a small national park not far from Danville, and Darryl drops them off by the entrance, knowing that the sight of a cop car, unmarked or not, will quickly disperse the gathered teenagers. So, Hal and Barry have to walk the rest of the way to the lake. 

Darryl gives Barry some change, and points to the phone booth by the ranger's cabin, telling him to call when they want to be picked up. The park closes at eight, but he says if they want to hitch a ride with other people and stay out later they can, just call and let him know. 

"He's pretty chill, for a cop." Hal says, as they watch Darryl's car drive back towards the city. "Most kids would kill for this kind of freedom."

"Yeah, I guess so."

Hal tilts his head at Barry curiously. "Something tells me you don't take advantage of it much." 

"I go out sometimes. Just...not a lot. He trusts me to stay out of trouble, so he's not that strict." Barry shrugs. 

They start walking, following the signs directing them to the lake. It hasn't changed much in the years since Barry was last here. The afternoon sun filters through the trees and flickers over them. It catches Hal's hair and illuminates it, emphasising the summer highlights. He has his jacket wrapped around his waist, meaning his sunkissed arms are exposed, and they're...very nice. 

Barry is just admiring how fit he is, that's all. Because he isn't very fit himself. The only exercise he does is when he's running to catch the bus.

"I think my mom was under the impression that I'd be under lock and key out here. Wonder what she'd say if she knew I was already going out."

"Do you go out a lot?" Barry asks, although he's pretty certain of what the answer will be. Hal seems like the popular type. 

"I'm more often out than in. I don't like being cooped up." 

"Is that why your mom sent you here? To keep you in?" Barry asks. Hal frowns, looking at the dusty trail in front of them, and Barry tries to undo his words. "Sorry. You don't have to answer that if you don't want to. It's really none of my business."

"She wants to keep me away from certain...influences, that aren't as much of a problem here."

Oh my god. He must do drugs . Barry immediately thinks. But he doesn't look like he does crack, or heroin or anything. He looks perfectly healthy. 

"Oh."

Hal must see the horrified look on Barry's face, because he laughs. "I'm not a druggie, if that's what you're thinking. I don't even smoke. Well, I've smoked once or twice, but I didn't like it. I plan on joining the Airforce, so I've gotta have a clean record, y'know."

"Me too. The clean record thing, I mean, not the smoking. I've never smoked. I uh, want to be a forensic scientist." 

"What, like dusting for fingerprints and stuff?"

"That's just a small part of it. There's blood analysis, toxicology, DNA analysis, fibre analysis, soil studies, ballistics…" Barry catches himself. "But I won't bore you with the details." 

"Sounds cool. A bit slow-pace for me, but you seem like you'd be smart enough for that kind of thing." 

"Oh. Thanks." Barry looks down, hoping he isn't blushing. Being complimented for his intellect is a pleasant change from bullies tripping him over and calling him a nerd. 

They turn a corner onto another, smaller path and Barry starts to hear shouts and laughter in the distance. He feels his chest tighten at the thought of all the people, and he clutches the strap of his backpack. 

"So, who's gonna be here?" Hal asks.

"I'm not sure exactly. Daphne didn't say."

"She your girlfriend?"

"No, no! Just a friend. My...my only friend, really." He quietly admits. He supposes there's no point in dressing it up, because Hal will see for himself in a few minutes. 

Hal stops walking and Barry almost bumps into him. He pushes his sunglasses up into his hair. He looks down at Barry and his deep brown eyes consider him for a moment. "You didn't want to come here, did you?"

"I - I mean not necessarily...I just...yeah. I didn't want to come. Besides Daphne, nobody likes me much." Barry looks at his shoes, laughing half-heartedly at himself. He almost jumps when he feels Hal's hand on his shoulder. 

"Well then, I'm your ticket. You can use me as a talking point, introduce me to people, that sorta thing. C'mon." 

Hal sets off again, and Barry follows him a few seconds later, jogging a little to keep up with him. The sounds of people and music gets louder, and they start to see the lake glimmering between the trees. 

They reach a small clearing where there's maybe thirty kids, ranging in age from sixteen to eighteen. Barry recognises them all from school, but he doubts all of them know him. 

There's towels and bags scattered around the clearing. Empty cans of soda and beer are scattered around, and a cooler or two. Barry hopes they clean all that up afterwards. Various items of clothing are hanging from the trees, and to Barry's shock he sees a pink lacy bra dangling from a branch. Someone has a boom box playing The B52s' Love Shack.  

Most people seem to be in the water, or close to it, swinging off a length of rope tied to a tree and making large splashes, but others are sitting around chatting on white monoblock and fold-up chairs. A haze of smoke surrounds a group of three standing amongst the foliage at the edge of the clearing, and Barry resists the urge to cough when they walk past them.

"Where's Daphne?" Hal asks, leaning over so Barry can hear him over the music. He's wondering the same thing himself, and his eyes are desperately scanning the area for her. 

Meanwhile, a couple of people have started to take notice of their arrival. Barry hopes that Hal is the one drawing most of their attention. He grips his bag strap tighter. 

"Barry!" 

They turn their heads in sync to see Daphne waving and wading her way out of the lake. Her strawberry blonde hair is darker than usual from the water. She pushes it back from her face and carefully makes her way across the pebbles at the water's edge, then walks up the slope to the clearing. She's wearing a plain blue swimsuit, and Barry can't help but blush, not used to the sight. He hasn't been swimming with her since they were eleven or so, and well, some things have changed. Hal leans over to Barry again and nudges him. 

"Dude, she is bodacious ." He whispers.

"Don't say that!" Barry quietly hisses as she approaches. 

"You came!" She says, beaming at him, pink colouring her cheeks and nose. 

Barry gives her a little smile. "Surprise?"

"Is this your Californian?" She asks, noticing Hal. He doesn't introduce himself, and instead waits for Barry to. 

"Daph, uh, this is Hal." 

"Hi, Hal. I'm Daphne." 

Hal gently takes her hand and kisses it, looking into her eyes as he does it. "Pleasure to meet you. I've already heard lots about you."

Barry wants to roll his eyes at the cheesy gesture, and at the fact that Hal really hasn't heard much about her at all. Hal seems to have the level of charisma needed for it to seem natural though, which is impressive. A little part of him wishes that he got a kiss on the hand too, but he quickly quells that trail of thought. Don't be weird.  

"Oh!" Daphne giggles in surprise, cheeks flushing pink. "Y'know, I asked Barry a few days ago if you were handsome, and he said he didn't know."

"Well, I hope I live up both of your expectations." Hal says with a grin, looking at her at first, but then meeting Barry's eyes. Barry decides to take that as a joke. He seems like the kind.

"Oh...just about, I think." Daphne replies with a similarly cheeky tone. "C'mon, we'll introduce you to everyone." 

She grabs Hal's arm and starts to pull him away, then turns back to Barry. "C'mon, Bar." 

She takes his hand and he lets her pull him along, down to the shore of the lake. The group of teenagers that are in the water are waiting for them. A few of the boys are nudging each other and snickering, throwing Barry glances. Some of the girls bunch together, whispering to each other and giggling. 

They stop right before where the water laps at the pebbles and Barry finds all eyes on him, expectantly, and he realises with horror that he's supposed to do the introduction again.

"Uh, this is Hal. Jordan." He gestures awkwardly, probably not speaking loud enough. "He's from Coast City. He's staying with me for a few months." 

He sharply inhales, wanting to shrink in on himself. Hal gives a small but confident wave. 

"Hi. So uh, how many of you are single?" Hal asks cheekily, leading to an outburst of laughter and giggles. 

Sensing Barry's discomfort, Daphne takes over introductions and starts telling Hal everyone's names. A few people come down from the clearing to see what the fuss is about. Hal easily cracks jokes with them, instantly asserting himself as likeable. Barry finds himself on the edge of the group, just like he expected he would. He wants to blend into the trees and disappear like a chameleon. 

"So, did you two bring your trunks?" Daphne says, and it takes a second to register that she's talking to him as well as Hal. Her blue eyes regard him expectantly. 

"Yeah, I did, but I think I'll pass." Barry says, shrugging his bag more securely over his shoulder. "I've got some comics to keep me busy."

"The real world isn't all that bad, y'know, if you'd just give it a chance." She says to him.

"I've seen plenty of it. A little too much." 

Her face drops. "Barry-"

"Don't let me spoil your fun! I'll just be over here." He laughs it off, pointing a thumb in the direction of a large tree. He makes his way over to it and finds a spot in between the roots to sit down. He slips the bag off his shoulders.

"Okay. Whatever, dude." Hal shrugs. "I wasn't expecting to find any beaches out here, so I didn't pack any, but I'll make do." 

Hal dumps his bag next to Barry. He unties the jacket from his waist and hangs it on a branch above him with care that Barry wasn't expecting. He kicks off his worn white sneakers and shoves his socks into them. Barry takes a comic out of his bag and pretends he's completely unbothered by the boy stripping only a few feet away from him.

Hal reaches over his shoulders and pulls his shirt off, and Barry risks a tiny glance, catching sight of a torso far more toned than his own, and just as tanned as the rest of him. He holds his breath and looks away again. 

Barry doesn't tan much, he burns more than anything, but he knows there's weird tan lines on his arms. Hal has no such patchiness. 

The Californian unceremoniously tosses the rest of his clothes over another branch, lacking the gentleness he handled the jacket with, which leaves him in a black pair of briefs. Barry doesn't look at him for more than a second. One, because it's impolite, and two, he doesn't want to fuel any rumours that already exist, because even if Hal isn't aware of them yet, he soon will be. 

Hal looks comfortable shirtless, in a way Barry never could. Hal nods at him and asks him to watch his stuff, then walks down to the water to join Daphne and the others. Barry watches him go, in a totally not-creepy way. He brings the comic up to his face to hide behind it, and grimances. How on earth is he supposed to sleep tonight knowing that he's in his room?

He sits there for a long time on his own, only looking up when he hears a particularly loud splash from someone jumping off the rope. He occasionally smiles behind the pages when someone (usually Hal) makes a particularly good joke. 

At least he's having a good time. Barry wonders how long it'll be until they turn Hal against him. 

Chapter Text

After a while, Daphne leaves the water to go talk to Barry, and Hal is left alone with the other kids. He doesn't really mind, everyone here is practically a stranger to him anyway, including her. 

"How long are you here for?" A guy with curly red hair asks. Hal thinks his name is Chris. 

"Till winter break. Going home for Hanukkah."

"You're Jewish?" Chris asks. Hal nods.

"So uh…" Chris starts, but trails off. Hal catches the way Chris's eyes drift down towards the water around his waist. 

It's not the first time someone has made a stupid comment like that, and while he isn't too jazzed about it, he'd rather not reveal his offence and have it become something they can use as amunition. So, he calmly sinks back into the lake, lazily threading water with his arms, flashes a grin, and makes a joke instead.

"If you wanna see it you've gotta at least buy me dinner first." 

It earns him a chorus of laughter, just as he was expecting. Two guys on a date. Imagine that. 

"Oh...no. I'm good." Chris backs up a little, putting his hands up. 

"You're not really my type anyway." Hal shrugs. More laughter. 

"What is your type, then?" One of the girls asks. Amanda. She's got her blonde hair tied up in a big red ribbon, and has somehow managed to keep it dry this whole time. 

Hal tilts his head back and hums, like he's thinking. "Y'know, I'm a little partial to blondes. But I don't let it limit me by any means." 

Some of the girls giggle and playfully shove at each other, some in a genuine way, but for one or two it seems more forced, like a performance they're putting on. He pretends he doesn't notice. They have their reasons. 

Hal lets himself lie back and lazily float in the water, smiling to himself. His own charm impresses him occasionally. Perhaps that's narcissistic, but at least he's got something going for him. 

He's not used to such calm water. The tiny waves of the lake don't hold a candle to the ones he's surfed. There's no ocean breeze or taste of salt on his lips here. It's kind of nice, but he already misses the ocean, and the beach. The pebbles at the water's edge here are far less pleasant to walk on than golden sand.

"When did you get here?" Amanda asks. Hal rights himself again, planting his feet on the lakebed.

"I'm fresh off the plane. Dropped my suitcase off at Barry's, ate lunch, and then we came here. Not bad for my first day. Good impressions all round." 

"Better watch your back around Allen." A brunet like himself, Lance, says. He wraps a muscular arm around Hal's shoulders and turns him away from the water's edge. Lance glances over his shoulder to where Barry and Daphne are talking and lowers his voice. "I don't know why she keeps inviting that freak ."

Hal furrows his eyebrows. He hadn't noticed anything odd about Barry, aside from him being a bit shy and awkward. He treads carefully. "What do you mean?"

"His dad murdered his mom." Matthew, a shorter kid with dark hair, says. "He's serving life in Iron Heights prison."

Hal's admittedly shocked. Sure, he figured Barry didn't have a great parental situation - he wouldn't be fostered otherwise - but that's rough . "Okay...what's that got to do with Barry?"

"He's adamant that his dad didn't do it. Constantly defends him. Visits him, even. It's sick." Lance tells him. 

"You know what they say about quiet kids. It's only a matter of time before he snaps, takes a gun from that cop he lives with, and shoots up the school." One of the girls chimes in.

"Like father, like son." Chris adds. 

He finds himself staring back at the harmless-looking blond kid who's wearing a red graphic T-shirt and khaki shorts. The same kid who got excited when he asked him about Star Trek, and politely offered up his bed so Hal wouldn't have to sleep on the mattress. The kid who awkwardly told him that his name was Bartholomew . He slips out from under Lance's arm, ducking lower into the water. 

"Nah, I think you guys are just paranoid or something." 

"And you're not?" Amanda asks. Hal smirks.

"Babe, I'm not afraid of anything ."

"I'd still watch your back if I were you." Chris warns.

"Noted." Hal says. 

"He's probably a fag, too." Lance adds unnecessarily, voice laced with disgust. 

"Yeah, you might catch something from him." Chris says. 

Hal feels an uneasiness in his stomach. He forces himself to keep his face neutral, which is hard, as he has a habit of wearing his heart on his sleeve. That's what he's been told, anyway.

Chris doesn't have to elaborate much on what that 'something' is. They all know. Hal is all too aware of the risks he's taking every time he goes down to the beach at dusk looking to score. The older guys he's talked to say the whole community is shrouded in fear. Cruising is far less popular now than it was a decade ago, and there's only a few brave - or stupid, depending on your outlook - souls who dare take part in it. Hal is among them. 

He's not invincible, even if he often forgets. Nobody is. Hell, AIDs even got that actor his mom liked - Rock Hudson - a few years back. She hasn't talked about him since. 

Hal takes some precautions - he uses condoms and gets himself tested as often as he can. He always gives a false name and date of birth at the clinic. The age of consent is eighteen in California, which Hal is not, and he'd rather not be reported or anything. So far the tests have always come back negative. He's not really sure what he'd do if one day they didn't. He doesn't dwell on it. 

"AIDs doesn't spread from close proximity or touch, Chris." One of the quieter girls tells him. Her earlier giggles at Hal's flirting had seemed more performative than the others. What was her name again?

"Yeah, you get it from backdoor action." Matthew adds, causing them all to snort with laughter. Hal quickly joins in, before they can notice his delayed response.

"Ew, Matt. Don't be so disgusting ." Amanda says, splashing water at him. It starts a water fight, and Hal backs away from them a little, not feeling in the mood to get involved. 

Yeah. Disgusting. 

Lance wades over to a rock jutting out of the water, close to where Hal is. There's a half-empty packet of cigarettes and a lighter on top of it. He offers him a smoke. Hal shakes his head. 

"You ever meet one, Jordan? A fag? I hear there's a lot of them out on the West Coast." Lance asks, then puts the cigarette between his teeth to light it. 

Memories flash behind his eyes, of blowjobs in cars and quick fucks in beach huts. Handjobs and makeouts hidden among the dunes. Ducking down and going deathly still when they hear police cars pass in the distance. He loves the thrill of it, and the actual sex of course, when it's not assholes like Brett, but he knows that one slip up will ruin any chance he has of joining the Air Force. 

"One or two."

Lance takes a drag. "Won't be long before that disease kills them all off. They're dropping like flies. World's better off without them."

Hal's fists clench under the water and his jaw is tight. He's never wanted to punch someone so badly, and given he has Jack for a brother, that says a lot. He tries to remain calm. Reacting will only cause suspicion of him. It's not too fun being queer in California, and he certainly doesn't want to find out what it's like in Missouri. 

"I don't have anything against them. Let them live their life, I'll live mine." Hal says, then turns away and wades back to the shore. 

"Get tired of the water?" Daphne asks as he approaches. 

"It's nice, but it's no Pacific." Hal says tersely, zipping open his bag and pulling out one of the towels. He starts to dry himself off. 

"Lance giving you trouble? He can be a bit...difficult."

"No, no. We had an interesting discussion about current affairs. I'm really getting a sense of the political climate out here." Hal says, angrily rubbing himself with the towel. He slips into a pair of green sports shorts and puts his shoes back on. "I'm kinda thirsty. Wanna get a drink?"

"Sure." Daphne gets to her feet. "You want anything, Barry?"

He shrugs. "Okay."

Barry grabs the snacks they had brought with them and they walk up to the coolers in the clearing. 

"You want pop or beer? I'm honestly surprised there's some left." Daphne asks. Hal notes that she doesn't say soda like he does. It's cute. 

"I'll have a beer, thanks." Hal says, then remembers who he's staying with. He whips around to see Barry gawking at him. "You uh, won't tell, will you?" 

The blond seems conflicted, but decides to turn a blind eye. "I...I guess not." 

Hal feels a little bad burdening him with that, but hey, it's not like he's urging Barry to join in or anything. 

Daphne passes the can of beer to Hal, and grabs some soda for Barry and herself. The chairs have been abandoned, so they sit down on them. Queen's Friends Will Be Friends is playing over the boombox now.

Hal pulls the tab on his beer, listening to the satisfying hiss for a second before taking a refreshing sip. He peers at Barry, who is carefully opening his can of Coca Cola, like he's afraid the whole thing will explode on him. Hal wonders how many times people have shaken drinks up before giving them to him. He used to do that to Jim a lot, because Jack used to do it to him. 

He wonders if what the other guys said was true. The thing about Barry's parents. 

He also thinks about what that girl said about quiet kids. It makes no sense - they worry Barry will lash out on them because he's lonely, but rather than be nice to him, they continue excluding him? 

Losing one parent to tragedy is tough, Hal knows all about it. But to lose both of them in one fell swoop? Barry's dad is still alive, sure, but Hal's willing to bet he doesn't get to see him too often. 

"Barry told me he's gonna become a scientist. What about you, what are you planning to do after school?" He asks Daphne, breaking the silence that had fallen upon the trio. 

"I want to be an actress." She replies, with a twinkle in her eye. He takes another sip from his beer.

"You any good?" 

"She's one of the best I've ever seen." Barry tells him. Daphne blushes and brushes some damp hair behind her ear. 

"Oh, I don't know about that. I'm in the drama club in school, but I caught the acting bug playing games with Barry when we were little." 

"Games?"

"We'd act out comic books. Barry would be The Flash, and I'd do the damsel in distress thing. My screams were so convincing, the cops were called one time. Someone actually thought I was in trouble." She tells him, glancing at Barry, who smiles.

"I remember that. My mom couldn't stop laughing." His expression falters a moment later and he looks down at his can, running his thumb along the ridge at the top of it. Daphne gives him a sad look before turning back to Hal. She plasters a smile back on her face.

"So what about you? What do you want to be?"

He grins. "A pilot. Like my dad."

"Oh, that's awesome. Y'know, I've never been on a plane before. Have you, Barry?" 

He shakes his head. 

"You guys are missing out. Flying is the best thing in the world." 

The three of them chat for a while over the music, and Barry slowly becomes more involved in the conversation - making fun of teachers is always a great topic to get people talking. He opens the snacks and they pass them around. Hal doesn't understand how those people look at Barry and see what - some kind of psycho?   

Hal finishes his beer. He kind of wants another, as one isn't enough to give him a buzz, especially when he's drinking slowly, but decides he's not going to risk it this time. For all he knows, Darryl has a breathalyser. And besides, it's not like they're really his to take, he just showed up today. 

After an hour or so a girl comes up to Daphne and drags her away from them, wanting to talk to her about something. She gives them a little wave and promises to talk to them again later. Hal shakes his head and smiles as she joins a group of girls sitting on blankets among the trees. 

"Dude, she is head over heels for you." 

Barry huffs. "Yeah, right."

"What, you don't believe me?"

"Of course not. I'm me, and she's...well...her."

"She is her. And she likes you." Hal points at him with his can.

"I didn't think you could get drunk from one beer." 

Hal throws his head back and laughs. He's not sure if Barry's purposefully making a joke, or if he's just innocent. "I'm not drunk."  

"You must be, to say a thing like that." 

Hal's been told plenty of times that he's got an ego, and they're not exactly wrong. But Barry clearly has none. 

"Why do you think she invited you here?"

"Pity?"

And okay, maybe there is some of that, but Hal can see that's not all there is to it. 

Wild Boys by Duran Duran starts playing, and Hal wonders who made this mixtape. The others, having finally grown tired of horsing around in the water, come up into the clearing and start taking what's left in the cooler, arguing over the last few cans of beer and rock-paper-scissors for them. The losers get stuck with soda.

Lance approaches Barry, who keeps his eyes on the ground, holding his empty can with both hands.

"Move, nerd." 

"There's plenty of seats around, dude." Hal says, casually leaning back in his chair. Silence befalls the group, and all eyes are on them. 

"Yeah? Well this is my chair." 

"Sorry. I didn't realise." Barry mutters, making to get up. 

"No, stay where you are, Barry." Hal says, maintaining a relaxed tone. "He's got no right-" 

"It's okay, honestly." Barry says with an empty smile. He gets up and walks away, back down towards the lakeshore.

Lance turns his attention to Hal. "Listen, you're new, so you might'nt get it yet, but there's a hierarchy here, and freaks like Allen are at the bottom of it." 

Lance drops down into the chair that Barry had been in and opens his can of beer. Hal wants to go over and slap it out of his hands. He thinks he could take him in a fight. But he has to go to school with this guy, who, asshole or not, clearly has a lot of influence around here, for the next few months. Hal feels that he's teetering the line between being in or out of this guy's good book, and he doesn't want to be blacklisted before he even enters the school. He grits his teeth. 

Hal stands up and crushes his can in one hand, looking right at Lance as he does so. Then he goes to find Barry. 

He locates him walking along the lakeshore, away from everyone else. Hal barely has to jog to catch up to him. He's pretty slow.

"You okay?" He asks, putting a hand on his shoulder. Barry seems surprised, like he wasn't expecting Hal to follow him. 

He shrugs. "I'm used to it." 

"Why do you let them push you around like that? They won't ever stop if you don't stand up for yourself." Hal tells him, throwing his arms out. He's not mad at him, but it's frustrating to watch Barry being such a doormat. 

"If they're picking on me it means another kid gets spared. So I'll take it." Barry says simply, but firmly. It succeeds in shutting Hal up. 

Up till now Hal thinks he had been pretty neutral about Barry, still trying to decide his opinion on him. Sure, he seemed nice enough, but now? His respect for him grows significantly. It's certainly not what Hal would do himself in such a situation, if it were him he probably punched Lance a long time ago, but he has to admit there's nobility in taking a beating so others won't have to. 

After a long moment, Hal nods, and throws his arm around Barry's shoulders. The blond tenses up a little at the unexpected affection, but once he realises Hal isn't trying to tackle him he relaxes. 

"You're a strange guy, y'know that? But I think I like you."

"You...do?" 

"Yep. We're gonna get on just fine, Bartholomew." 

Chapter Text

Hal and Barry stroll around the edge of the lake, occasionally passing by other, smaller groups of teenagers or families on a day out. Everyone seems to be making the most of the summer before it's over. 

They talk further about what they plan to do after school. Barry is applying to several colleges and he's hoping his grades will be good enough for a scholarship.  There's also a competition coming up with a scholarship as the prize, and he's going to enter it. Something to do with soil and non-harmful chemicals that increase crop growth. Very Midwestern of him. 

Hal doesn't quite understand everything he's saying, especially when Barry starts going into detail, but nods along. Chemistry and biology have never been his strong suit. He prefers math and physics, but he's willing to bet Barry has better grades than he does in all four subjects. He seems like the type. 

Hal tells him that he plans to get a GED so he can join up in February, rather than wait to get his high school diploma. Barry doesn't seem too impressed when he hears that Hal is going to drop out, but he acknowledges how much thought he's put into his plans, and says he admires his determination. 

"So what does your family think of it?"

Hal has been dodging this discussion all day, but it was bound to come up again sooner or later. 

"Well...my mom isn't too jazzed about it. It's why she sent me here. To try turn me off the idea."

"That's why? You...didn't do anything else?"

"Nope. Well, nothing she knows about, anyway." He jokes. "Pretty extreme, huh?"

Barry doesn't look very reassured by the first half of Hal's answer, but doesn't inquire further.

"Maybe she'd feel better about it if you waited to finish high school?" He suggests. 

"It isn't that part that bothers her. She doesn't want me to join the Air Force, period. Thinks it's dangerous."

"It is dangerous."

"And I don't care." Hal shrugs.

"What does your dad think?"

Hal bites his lip, not sure if he wants to explain all that right now. Clearly Darryl hasn't told Barry about his dad. 

Back home almost everyone knows who Martin was, and what happened to him, but here? Nobody does. He decides he'd like to keep it that way for a little longer. Maybe he'll bring it up when they broach the topic of Barry's parents. 

"He said I could be whatever I wanted to be." Not technically a lie. "What about you? Darryl's probably thrilled you want to work with the police."

"Not…exactly. I like science, obviously, but I have other reasons to become a CSI that he doesn't really approve of."

Well that's a bit cryptic, Hal thinks. Although, it's not as if he's been completely upfront either. 

"But he isn't going to stop me, or send me halfway across the country or anything. Thank goodness. I don't think I'd manage it half as smoothly as you are." Barry says. 

Hal shrugs, and kicks at a stray stone on the ground. "It's only my first day. I've got plenty of time to screw it up yet."

The sun is starting to hang low in the sky now, and the lake reflects the deep golden colour. They've almost walked around the whole thing.

"Hey, you wanna bounce? We can call Darryl." Hal suggests. 

"You don't want to stay out?"

"Nah, not really. It's been a long day." 

They return to the tree they had left their stuff by. Barry gasps, and Hal follows his line of sight, towards the water. 

"No…" Barry says. His comic books have been dumped into the water. Hal's blood boils, and he glances up towards the clearing where he can hear people laughing and talking over the music. 

"Those assholes." Hal mutters, shedding his shoes and socks again. Barry gives him a quizzical look.

"What are you doing?"

Hal walks into the water and wades towards the comic books floating on the surface. "They might be salvageable." 

"Hal, it's okay. You don't have to!" 

"Too late." He says, already knee-deep in the lake. He reaches for one comic and carefully pulls it out by the corner, sopping wet. 

" Green Lantern ." He reads on the cover, tilting his head to do so. The character on the cover is wearing some sort of Technicolour nightmare.  "Why has he got a double collar on his costume? Is one collar not enough?" 

"It was the forties?" Barry shrugs. 

"What are his powers?" Hal asks, walking further in to get to the rest. 

"He can fly, and he's got a power ring that can create anything he imagines. But it doesn't work on wood."

"Wood? That's a dumb weakness. Nice powers though." Hal pauses for a second and then looks back at Barry. "Could he make a jet with it?"

"Yeah. I guess he could." 

"Radical. I'd love to have a ring like that." Hal says with a laugh. He reaches for the next comic. " The Flash ?"

"The Fastest Man Alive. My favourite character." Barry responds with enthusiasm. "He's also Green Lantern's best friend."

Hal nods and grabs the next one. "Aw no, not the Star Trek comic!" 

Once they're all gathered, Hal returns to the shore and passes the dripping books to Barry. "I'm not sure how we'll dry them without the pages sticking together, but it's worth a shot."

"Thank you." Barry says, gratefully accepting them. 

"No problem." Hal shrugs, walking back up the pebble beach to their bags. He dries off and puts his shoes on again, then grabs his t-shirt from the tree. 

His stomach drops. "Where's my jacket?" 

He just noticed its absence. He'd left it right here, hadn't he? Did someone take it? Why would someone want to steal it? It's older than Hal is, for fuck's sake. He looks out at the lake, in case it got thrown in like Barry's comics, but sees nothing. 

"Didn't you hang it up?" Barry asks, carefully wrapping and dabbing his comics with a spare towel. 

"Yeah. But it's not here." Hal runs his fingers through his hair, t-shirt still clutched in his other hand as he scans the area with his eyes. Barry puts the towel down.

"Don't worry, it has to be around here somewhere. We'll find it." 

"Hey, where'd you two disappear to?" Daphne asks, approaching them. She's changed out of her swimsuit, and is now wearing a white t-shirt and acid-wash denim shorts, with a multicolored windbreaker jacket. 

"We just went for a walk. Have you seen Hal's jacket?"

"The brown one with the patches? Is it missing?"

Hal nods and swallows. "Yeah. It's uh, pretty important to me." 

Daphne offers to help look, and they start to scour the surrounding area. She says she didn't see anyone take it, but she hadn't exactly been watching it either. 

It's starting to get dark, and Hal is almost frantic when Barry eventually spots it. 

"How the fuck did they it get up there?" Hal asks furiously, gesturing at it. The three of them are staring up into a large tree. His beloved jacket is thrown over a branch at the top. 

If this was back home and it was some people from school who did it, he'd be far less miffed. He'd know they were just fooling around in a friendly way, but these guys have only known him for a few hours. They certainly haven't reached the 'friendly prank' stage yet. 

Hal makes for the trunk and starts to climb onto the lower branches. Daphne darts over and grabs his ankle. 

"Wait! Those branches further up won't be able to support your weight. Let me get it."

"Uh, you sure?" Hal looks down at her, surprised. He hasn't met many girls who'd climb a tree for him. Or many willing to climb a tree, period. 

He hadn't considered the size of the branches - he just wanted his jacket safely back around his shoulders. Then again, risk assessment has never really been his forté. 

If the upper branches are weak like she said, it means that whoever put it up there must have been small - or smaller than him, anyway. 

"I used to be pretty good at this, right, Bar?" She says, smiling back at him. Hal jumps down, landing with a crunch on some old dead leaves.

" Please be careful." Barry says, concern etched into his face. 

"Gimme a boost up?" Daphne asks, and Hal obliges, helping her onto the first branch. From there, she scales the tree with ease. Count Hal impressed. 

"Dude, if you don't make a move, I will." Hal whispers to Barry, nudging him. He doesn't seem to realise what Hal's getting at.

"Huh?" 

"Got it!" Daphne shouts. She balances herself on a branch and slips it on over her own jacket, which makes Hal...feel things. She finds her way down, and all the while Barry anxiously watches her through his fingers. He gasps when she jumps down and lands in a crouch on the ground. Daphne grins and stands up, brushing off her hands on her legs. 

"I didn't realise you did your own stunts." Hal remarks. She pulls off the jacket and passes it to him. A wave of relief crashes over him when he gets his hands on the worn leather. "Thanks. You're a badass."

The three of them start walking back to grab their bags. Hal puts his jacket on, glad for the familiar weight of it. He doesn't know what he'd do if he lost it. 

"No problem. I haven't climbed a tree in years. I'd forgotten how fun it was." 

"And dangerous! What if you fell?" Barry says.

"You were there to catch me." She shrugs, confidently walking ahead of them. 

Barry looks taken aback by that statement. He whispers to Hal. "I don't think I could have." 

Hal drags a hand down his face in exasperation. Is he really that oblivious? "Barry. My dude…"

"...What?" 

Hal decides to let it go. They gather up their things, and Daphne grabs her own bag from the clearing, offering them a ride home. While she says her goodbyes to the others Hal wonders which one of them put his jacket in the tree. The main suspect is Lance, but Lance is almost as big as he is. He would have put some serious strain on those branches. Did one of the girls do it? Because that somehow makes it even worse. 

They walk back towards the park entrance. Amanda joins them, and the whole way to Daphne's car she talks to Hal and Daphne. She completely ignores Barry, who walks a little behind the rest of them. 

"If you want someone to show you around school on Monday I'd be happy to. In fact, I'll show you around anywhere you want." She says with a smile, feigning innocence. 

Normally Hal would enjoy this. He likes flirting, and he appreciates a girl who's upfront about what she wants. But he can't unhear her earlier remarks, and can't help but notice the way she treats Barry. When she isn't ignoring him, that is. It's like she thinks he's beneath her or something. 

"Thanks. I'll keep that in mind." He says casually, throwing in a wink for good measure. He doesn't have much intention of taking her up on the offer. Barry will be able to show him around.

If it was one of the girls who hid his jacket, it certainly wasn't Amanda. She seems to like him too much, and if she wouldn't let her hair get wet then she certainly wouldn't climb a tree. 

"We're gonna get some Big Belly Burger if you wanna join us." Daphne suggests as they finally reach her car. She unlocks it. "But if not I'll drop you guys home."

"As much as I love Big Belly Burger, twice in one day is a bit excessive." Barry says as she sits into the driver's seat.

Barry goes to open the passenger side door but Amanda steps in front of him and opens it instead, giving him a cold and meaningless sorry that's too quiet for Daphne to hear. 

That's been a common theme today. When Daphne's within earshot all they do is exclude Barry, but when she isn't they're outright nasty. Hal wonders if Daphne is fully aware of how badly they treat him. Barry probably covers it up. He doesn't seem the kind to want to cause a fuss.

"Backseat buds it is." Hal jokes, flashing him a grin over the roof as he opens the back-left door and sits in. Barry gets into the car a moment later and ties his seatbelt. Hal doesn't bother with his belt, and he can hear his mother's voice in his head, chastising him. Barry also gives him a look of disapproval, and he pretends he doesn't see. 

Daphne starts the car, and it makes Hal realise how much he misses driving. Getting his license had given him so much freedom, but he hasn't been behind a wheel for over a month now. God, he craves it. He doesn't imagine he'll ever be allowed to drive Darryl's car, what with the sirens in it and all. 

She turns on the radio, and switches between stations before settling on one that's playing 'Kids In America' by Kim Wilde.

Chapter Text

The journey back to Darryl's house seems shorter than the journey there. Hal pays attention to the various landmarks along the way this time. It almost feels like he's in a different country. There's no palm trees here, that's for sure. They roll the windows down, and Hal can't help but stick his head out, feeling the wind rush through his hair.

In the front of the car Daphne and Amanda discuss some brand new NBC show called Saved By The Bell. Hal hasn't seen it. Barry stays quiet, and stares out the window on his side. Hal glances at him every once and a while.  

It's dark by the time Daphne drops them off in front of Darryl's small house in the suburbs. The boys say goodbye. They watch her car drive away down the street for a moment or two, and then Hal turns to Barry. 

"I'm sorry I put you through all that. If I'd have known-" 

Barry shakes his head and puts up his hands. "S'okay. I told you, I'm used to it. Besides, you would have been bored out of your mind sitting around here with me all afternoon." 

Maybe he's right about that, it could have been awkward. But it's not like they'll ever know now. Hal did enjoy the lake. Parts of it, anyway. He's certainly not opposed to spending an afternoon shirtless, and surrounded by other shirtless people. He's still ticked off about his jacket being hidden in a tree though, and he wants to know who's responsible.

"I think you seem more interesting than you give yourself credit for." Hal tells him.

Barry gives a sad little huff, like he doesn't believe that. He adjusts the straps of his bag, shrugging it more securely over his shoulders before walking towards the front door. Hal waits a second before he follows him. 

As Barry fishes his key out of his pocket, it randomly occurs to Hal that it's going to be a lot harder to get hookups around here. With guys, that is. He could find a girl or two, he thinks, even though they might be  more conservative about that sort of thing around here. Girls are great -  never let it be said that he doesn't like women - but they usually tend to be looking for relationships, and he can't offer that. 

Most don't take kindly to his attitude. He's been called all sorts of things. He thinks he's always made his position clear before starting anything though, so he doesn't understand why they get so upset with him. Everyone knows he doesn't plan on sticking around. When the Armed Forces recruiters visited his school last year he had not-so-subtly asked lots of questions and taken information pamphlets. He hid them in his locker - he didn't dare take them home. 

As for guys, well, most of them aren't looking for anything long-term. None of the ones he's met anyway. It suits him. It's not like marriage is really an option for gay guys, so monogamy isn't as big a deal. He thinks that's kind of cool. But he supposes that's one reason why the community has been hit so hard by this virus. Not so cool.

The gay scene here - if there is one at all - is probably a lot more underground, and the consequences for being found engaging with it probably more severe. Being found beaten and barely breathing in a ditch - that kind of severe. He's heard the stories. 

He met a guy named Danny a few months back who had moved out from Kansas for college. After they fooled around a bit, he quietly told Hal that he was the first guy he'd had since his boyfriend in high school. He had died from internal injuries shortly after a run in with some bastards who thought it fit to beat him up for being gay. The police just didn't care enough to investigate properly, and they got off scott-free. Danny had been desperate to get out of their small town, so he wouldn't have to look at the guys who did it every time he went to the supermarket. Hal hadn't really known how to respond other than say he was sorry. 

His mom had just meant to keep him away from the airfields, but she'd inadvertently cut him off from all of that too. For the best, probably, but as hard as it could be at times, he'll miss it. There were some upsides. Plus, sometimes you just need a good -

"Fuck." He groans, tilting his head back and running both hands through his hair. 

Barry, who had just opened the door and stepped in, glances back at him with big blue eyes, clearly surprised, and a little confused, by Hal's sudden and unexplained profanity. 

"Did you...forget something?" 

Hal shakes his head. "No, no. It's nothing. Ignore me."

They go inside, dropping their bags in the small hallway. Hal shrugs his jacket off, and hangs it on a hook by the door.

"We're back!" Barry calls into the house, dark except for a small light in the front window. He sticks his head into the living room, finding it empty. The kitchen is also empty, but there's a note stuck onto the fridge. Barry goes to read it, and frowns.

"He got called into work." 

Hal leans against the counter. "On a Saturday night?" 

"Double homicide." Barry casually tells him, opening the fridge and peering in. 

"Oh." 

Barry freezes. Then, he shyly peers around the fridge door. "Sorry. That's not a very normal thing to say, is it?"

Hal shakes his head and laughs a little. "No. It's not."

"Sorry. It's not that I don't care or anything - of course I do. That's two people's lives!" Barry says, and there's sincerity in it. "But uh, after a while…"

"You get desensitised?" 

"A little bit, yeah. It's awful." Barry awkwardly rubs the back of his neck. Hal waves it off.

"Hey, don't worry about it. I have a feeling I'll get used to it pretty quick around here."

Barry nods, not looking at him. "So uh, what do you want to eat?"

"Honestly? I'd eat anything right now." 

They heat up some ready-meal lasagne in the microwave, along with some garlic bread. It's not the most nutritional thing in the world, but Hal certainly isn't complaining. 

While they watch their food slowly spin around, Hal lets Barry nerd out and explain to him how microwaves work, even though he already knows. Sort of. Barry just seemed so enthusiastic about it, and Hal gets the feeling it's not often someone is willing to listen. He knows what that's like - he could talk for days about his favourite types of aircraft and all of their features. The differences between F-15s and F-16s. Wingspans, manoeuvrability and top speeds. 

He and Jack regularly used to get into fights that usually started with Jack calling out 'Mom! Hal's talking about planes again!' Hal would tell him to shut up, and a minute later their mother would walk in to see the two of them wrestling on the living room floor, while Jim begged them to stop. More often than not, Hal was the one who would get in trouble for 'starting it.' 

He remembers someone in school saying something about how middle children always get the short end of the stick. The eldest have the responsibility, the youngest get doted on, and the kids in middle just aren't a priority. Hal wishes he could say it's a load of psychological bullshit, but so far his experience with family has fallen in line with that theory. 

While they wait for the food to cool down enough to eat, Barry takes the comic books out of his bag and places them on the kitchen table. They've started to dry, and he carefully separates the pages, trying not to rip them.

"How are they looking?"

"Let's just say they won't be considered collector's items in twenty years." Barry sighs. Hal looks at them over Barry's shoulder. The outlines of the characters are fuzzy from the ink running, but everything is still legible. 

"You fussy about that kind of thing? Not dog-earing the pages and stuff?"

Barry looks back at him in horror. "You dog-ear your pages?" 

Hal snickers. Wow, this kid is a nerd . But not in an annoying, stuck up way. Hal's not really sure how to describe it. He points at the ruined books. "Not comics. They've got pictures so it's easy to find my place. But other books? Absolutely."

"That's terrible. You should use a bookmark." 

Hal shrugs, and feels the corners of his mouth turn up involuntarily. "I guess that answers my question."

"I'm not as bad as some people. I don't keep them all in plastic sleeves with boards. Just my favourite ones." Barry says defensively. 

The blond pulls a fold-up clothes rack out of a cupboard and pegs the comics to it, to let them finish drying out. Hal tips his lasagne onto a plate and unwraps the garlic bread from its foil, then sits down at the table. Barry takes the chair across from him and does the same. 

They fall into silence, and just eat for a few minutes. Hal really wasn't kidding about being hungry. He glances at his new companion every once and a while. Should he ask him about his parents? Or wait for Barry to bring it up himself and act surprised about it?

Hal always hates the pitying looks he gets when he tells people that his dad died in a plane crash. It was tragic, but at least it was an accident. Mostly. He still thinks Ferris is at fault somehow. Negligence. It must be a lot harder to say 'My mom was murdered and my dad's in prison for it.'

He wonders if Darryl told Barry about his dad. When he drove Hal from the airport Darryl told him that he hadn't seen him since his dad's funeral, and Hal had to admit he didn't remember him at all. Apparently, Darryl had known his dad at some point, and at the funeral he told his mom to let him know if she ever needed a hand. So now, years later, she finally takes him up on the offer. Some favour, huh?

"I probably need to make sure I have all the right books and stuff for school. Is there anywhere I can rent them from? Not much point buying books I'll only need for a few months, y'know?" Hal asks, breaking the silence. Barry nods, and his answer is just as sensible as Hal expects it to be.

"We could share a few textbooks for the subjects we have in common. But if you don't want to, I think the school library has a book rental scheme." 

"Yeah, that sounds good. Thanks."

"Have you got notebooks?"

"Only one or two, and some pens and stuff. A calculator. I didn't really think much about school things when I was packing. A bit stupid, considering."

"We can go shopping tomorrow if you want?" Barry offers.

"Sure. I haven't seen much of the city yet. Not on the ground anyway. I got a nice birds-eye view when we were coming in to land earlier."

"I bet." 

Hal looks at the comics drying on the rack, and suddenly remembers something. 

"S'cuse me a sec." He says, getting up from the table and dashing upstairs. 

He returns with the Star Trek comic he had bought earlier and places it in front of Barry.

"It's the same issue, right?"

"Yeah, it is." Barry says, surprised. Compared to the one on the rack, Hal's copy is in mint condition. 

"Do you want it? For your collection? I only pick them up from time to time, but judging from all those boxes I saw in your room, you've probably got every issue from the last few years."

"Really?" Barry looks up at him with his eyebrows raised, like he doesn't believe him. Hal just shrugs and drops back down into his chair.

"Sure. I mean, I'm gonna read it first, of course, but after that it's all yours." 

"T-thank you. That's really nice of you." 

"No problem, dude." 

They finish eating and wash the few dishes together. Barry had tried to do it himself, but Hal told him that if he's gonna be here for the next few months there's really no point in treating him like a guest, because he'll just get lazy.

"So what are the rules around here exactly? How much can I get away with?" 

"I guess you'll have to ask Darryl. He's never really had to lay any down." 

"Seriously? You are such a goody-two shoes." Hal laughs. 

"At least I didn't get sent halfway across the country." Barry says quietly, shrugging, and Hal is a little taken aback at the departure from the politeness he's expressed all day.

"Ouch. Harsh." He says, clutching his chest in mock hurt. The blond looks panicked for a moment, worried he's caused offence. Hal grins at him and gives him a nudge. "I'm just messing with you, dude." 

Hal asks if he can use the phone to call his mom, and Barry tells him to go right ahead, directing him to the table in the hallway. He picks up the handset and dials the number, then puts it to his ear. He leans his side against the wall and looks to where Barry is sitting with his back to him in the kitchen. To his surprise, Jim answers the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hey Jimmy."

"Hal!" His brother greets loudly. His voice then drops to a whisper, and Hal can barely hear him over the line. "How was your flight?"

Hal grins, imagining Jim standing in their own hallway back home, covering his mouth for fear of their mother hearing him. "It was great. I could see the top of the clouds, and the whole city from above before we landed."

"Wow." He whispers. He's the only one of the three of them who's never been in the air. Even Jack took to the skies with Martin once or twice, though he never had the same interest in it that Hal did, and claimed he 'grew out of it' once he hit middle school. Hal still can't wrap his head around that. How could you 'grow out of' flying?

Jim was only five when their dad died, and had been too small to fly with Martin. Not only that, but the sound of the jets and planes frightened him, especially the sonic booms. He doesn't have all that many memories of their dad either. Sometimes Hal feels sorry for Jim, and other times he envies him for not having to experience the same level of grief that he and Jack did. 

Hal can hear muffled speech on the other end and Jim gives him a quick goodbye before passing the phone to their mother. 

"Hal?"

"Hi Mom. I'm at Darryl's house."

"Is he there?"

"Uh...no. He got called into work. But Barry's here. We just had dinner."

"Alright. I'll call him tomorrow. Just need to go over a few things. I mailed a copy of your last report card to the school, I don't know if it's arrived yet." She tells him. "Make sure you go to bed at a reasonable time tonight. You'll need to get settled into the school routine for Monday." 

He rolls his eyes, and he's not even sure why. "Yeah, I know." 

"Don't give me that tone Harold." 

"Yeah, well, excuse me for not being overjoyed about being sent away." 

The words leave his mouth before he can stop them. She goes quiet for a few seconds, and Hal knows his guilt trip has succeeded. But then he starts to feel a little guilty too. 

When she speaks again her voice is slightly muffled, and she's not talking to him, but to Jack.

"Do you want to talk to your brother, Jack?"

Hal can't hear his reply, but it must have been a no, because the phone isn't passed to him, and Jessica tells him goodnight. 

"I love you." She says, and Hal doesn't say it back. 

"Goodnight." 

He hangs up and lingers in the hallway for a minute, feeling an ugly mess of emotions in his chest. Guilt and regret, but anger too. He wants to punch something. His usual punching bag pillow is sitting on his bed at home, and he doesn't think fighting pillows in someone else's house is very appropriate. Barry certainly doesn't seem like the kind of guy who beats the shit out of pillows when he's angry. So far, Hal hasn't seen any anger in him. Just...a quiet sadness. 

As far as Hal knows, Barry has plenty to be angry about. If Hal thought his dad was wrongly convicted of a crime he'd want to fight the world. If his mom had been murdered… 

He glances at the kitchen door again, and Barry is standing right there. A fresh wave of guilt washes over him. Is he still mad at his mom? Absolutely. But at least he still has a mom. 

The blond looks like a deer in headlights. "Oh. Sorry. It's just, you stopped talking - not that I was listening! And you were really quiet, I thought you might have gone upstairs or…" 

Hal grins at him. "Nah, all good here."

Barry nods, but doesn't return the smile, like he doesn't quite believe him. 

They go upstairs and Hal starts to unpack his things. Barry finishes tidying away his stuff. Hal doesn't see the point in it - with two teenage boys living here the room is gonna look like a dump in a week's time - but it clearly gives Barry something to do so he feels less awkward. 

"Hey, so." Hal isn't sure where to start. "I wasn't going to ask, but I was told some things today and I just wanna get my facts straight."

Barry pauses in sorting his bookshelf, with his back to Hal. His head dips between his shoulders, like a puppy that's just been told off for eating a new Adidas sneaker. After a second or two of silence, he speaks. "What did they tell you?"

"Stuff about your parents. Is it...true?"

"He didn't do it, if that's what you're asking." Barry says, and despite his body language, he sounds sure of that view, and ready to defend it. Hal knows he's struck a nerve here, and puts his hands up in defense, even though Barry can't see him.

"I didn't say that. I just wanted to hear the story from you, that's all. But if you don't want to talk about it, I get it. I mean, we only met a couple hours ago."

"It's...kind of a long story. Maybe not now."

"Okay." 

Hal accepts that's all he's going to get for now, and he can't exactly argue with him - not when Hal is keeping things to himself too. 

It's later that night, and they've both settled into bed. Darryl arrived home ten minutes ago. When he stuck his head into the room (after knocking) and greeted them, Hal wondered what kind of horrific scenes he had just witnessed. Barry asked about the case, and Darryl just shook his head and said not tonight , Barry . He told them not to stay up too late, and then went to bed himself. 

The mattress, to Hal's great relief, is quite comfy, though being so close to the floor will take some getting used to. They quietly read for a while. The comic Hal got was quite good, but he's missed a few issues, and he's a little confused as to what's going on. He'll ask Barry to explain it tomorrow, or read the back issues he no doubt has in a box somewhere. 

Barry turns off the light at eleven. It's earlier than Hal would usually call lights out, especially on a Saturday, but he was up early this morning. He crosses his arms behind his head and closes his eyes. 

A minute later, in the darkness, Barry speaks quietly. 

"I...this is probably going to sound weird, but I...I just wanted to say thank you. For being so nice to me today."

"Nice?" Hal asks, turning his head to look up at the other boy. 'Nice' is not an adjective he would use to describe himself most of the time, and plenty of people would agree.

"Yeah." Barry sits up this time, propping himself up on an elbow and looking down at Hal. The room is dark, but Barry's eyes seem to light up a little. "Really nice. Like fishing the comics out of the lake, and standing up to Lance."

"They were being assholes. Any decent guy would have done that." 

Barry goes quiet for another second or two, pursing his lips and glancing away like he's debating on whether or not to speak. He sounds embarrassed. "Nobody's ever called me dude before." 

"Really? You guys don't call each other dude here? I mean, I know it's surfer lingo, but I thought it was more widespread now. Have I been saying it all day like an idiot?"

"No, we do - I mean other people here - do say it. I just meant that nobody's ever said it to me specifically."

It takes Hal a second to catch on to what he means. And yeah, Barry had said earlier that Daphne was his only friend, but he had taken that as an exaggeration. Self-deprecating humour and all that. 

"You...don't have any friends who call you dude? Or bro? No nerdy homies in the chess club?"

Barry sheepishly shakes his head, and Hal feels a pang of sympathy for him. Hal doesn't really have many close friends himself, but he's sort of on a base level of friendship with everyone, drifting from group to group depending on what suits him that day. It's what makes him so popular. It also means nobody really knows him properly, and they never will. An unfortunate side effect of being queer. There's maybe one person who knows him quite well, but they're not the same age, so that relatability isn't there. He can't really call him a best friend. 

He can't imagine what it must be like to just have one close friend and nobody else, especially when that person has other friends who don't like you. It must be incredibly lonely. 

"That's a shame, dude."

The blond huffs out a little laugh. "Your accent makes it even better, I think."

"My accent?" 

"Yeah. Your SoCal accent. You sound like a surfer, or someone on tv." 

Hal had never really thought about it all that much. He didn't realise he had an accent. He supposes you have to travel to discover these things. Barry's own accent is different from his own, but pretty neutral as far as Hal is concerned. 

"Well I am a surfer. Occasionally." He doesn't actually own a surfboard, as much as he'd like to, but he rents one from time to time. Baseball is his true love. 

"How do you manage to be so...cool?"

"I dunno." Hal says with a sigh, like it's unfortunate. "It's just my natural state of being." 

He crosses his arms behind his head again and closes his eyes. Barry doesn't say anything further, and Hal drifts off to sleep. 

Chapter Text

The sun is creeping in through the gap in the curtains. Barry's sleep mask must have come off during the night. He turns onto his side, opening his eyes and briefly glimpsing the handsome, sleeping boy on the floor. He closes his eyes. 

And opens them again. 

That's not normal. His sleepy brain takes a few seconds to remember why there's another boy in his room, and once he does, he can't help but admire him. 

Hal had crawled into bed last night in nothing but his underwear, and at some point during the night he kicked away the blankets, leaving him sprawled out and exposed. His chest rises and falls slowly. His face is relaxed, dark lashes brushing his cheeks. 

Barry turns onto his back again and squeezes his eyes shut. No. Nope. Creepy. Not going to start that.  

This is going to be a tough few months. Barry is usually able to banish thoughts like that because most guys at school treat him like he's a freak, or ignore him completely, and celebrity crushes are just unattainable (Patrick Swayze will sadly never know of his existence). He feels secure in his attraction to women and that's all he needs. Brushing off attraction to men is something he's a master at. 

Or so he thought. Hal has sort of upscuttled that. Not only is he attractive, he's also nice to him. It's a problem. Barry sort of hopes Hal has some awful habit that will turn him off, because otherwise he doesn't think he'll get through this semester with his sanity intact. 

Barry wonders if anyone else has this problem, or if he's the only person in the world who can't decide if they're straight or gay. He's looked through so many books in the library trying to find any evidence of people like him and come up short. There's a couple of male celebrities with ambiguous sexualities, but they're not exactly normal . 

Maybe there's something written somewhere, but it's not in their local library. There's a few books he knows the library doesn't keep. He once asked Nancy there if he could read The Communist Manifesto by Karl Marx, just to see what all the fuss was about, and she told him they didn't have a copy of it. Perhaps their censorship extends to things of a queer variety as well.

He wishes he could decide. Being straight would be nice. Ideal, really. Wife, kids, white picket fence. The whole package. Everything he's been missing out on since he lost his parents. 

Barry hears Hal stir, and he decides to get up so he can use the bathroom first. He doesn't want to change in here, even if Hal is asleep. It just seems indecent, and Barry is far too self-conscious. He quietly slips out of bed and crosses the room to the door. 

He showers and gets dressed in the bathroom, lathers himself in sunscreen, and then goes downstairs. Barry fixes himself some toast and a boiled egg. He turns on the small portable radio which sits on the kitchen window, and brings it to the table, listening to the news while he eats. The local station reports on the case Darryl attended last night, but doesn't give him much more info. 

Hal shuffles into the kitchen halfway through breakfast, a Nike crop top thrown over the same green shorts from yesterday. It's the kind of outfit only athletic guys can get away with, and Barry is very much not in that category. 

"Nice t-shirt." Hal comments. 

"Oh. Thanks." Barry says. He's wearing a red Star Trek V: The Final Frontier t-shirt and some jeans. "Uh, you too."

"Where's the bread?"

Barry gets up and shows him where everything is, and Hal sets about making breakfast for himself, cracking an egg into a pan and switching on the coffee machine. The weather forecast promises more unbearable weather at midday, and Barry considers changing into shorts.  

Hal reaches up to grab a plate from the cupboard and his already cropped t-shirt rides up even more. Barry quickly looks away, guilt consuming him again. 

Hal sits down with his food just as Barry finishes his. Darryl is still in bed. He sleeps in on Sundays - he's not much of a churchgoer. The DJ on the radio announces a New Kids On The Block song and Hal rolls his eyes, reaching for the dial to change it. He flicks through the stations with a piece of toast in his mouth before settling on one that's currently playing Desire by U2. 

"I'll leave a note for Darryl saying we're going into the city." Barry says, getting up and grabbing the stack of yellow Post-its on the kitchen counter. He takes a pen and scribbles a note to stick to the fridge.

"You guys leave a lot of notes, huh?" Hal asks. 

"Yeah. But it's fine, I can manage most things on my own." 

Adults always comment on how mature Barry is for his age, and don't think too much about why that is. He brings another Post-it to the table and sits down again.

"Okay. List. What do you need to get?" Barry asks. 

Hal munches his toast and swallows. He tilts his head back. "Uh…a few more notebooks I guess? Maybe a ring binder…I dunno. I don't usually make lists. I'll know what I need when I see it."

"If I did that I'd forget something." Barry says, writing down what he needs to get himself.

Hal sips his coffee and eyes Barry's empty glass, which previously had orange juice in it. 

"You don't drink coffee?" He asks. Barry's quickly learning that Hal is more observant than he looks. It's terrible, but Barry hopes Hal has bad grades, because he really can't deal with him being handsome, nice and smart. 

"No. I don't really like it." 

They step out of the house shortly after ten o'clock and walk down the street towards the bus stop. There's some kids cycling up and down the block and playing in their front yards. A few of them excitedly wave to Barry and he gives a little wave back. While people his own age tend to dislike him, Barry gets on well with older adults and younger kids. The thing with children is that no matter how nerdy and unpopular you are, being a teenager automatically makes you cool in their eyes. 

A small group runs over to them before they're halfway down the street, and crowds around, blocking the sidewalk. 

"Who are you?" Diana Kelleher asks in that blunt way that children tend to do, pointing a finger at Hal. 

Her dark hair is pulled into a high side ponytail that is already coming apart, though it's quite likely it was only done an hour or two ago. She's eight, and has a very high opinion of herself. Diana once proudly told Barry that her mom named her after a real life princess, because she was born on the day of Charles and Diana's wedding. 

"I'm Barry's friend Hal. I'm staying here for a while. Who are you?" Hal says, looking down at her through his aviator sunglasses and smiling. A warm feeling blooms in Barry's chest at Hal referring to him as his friend, even though he likely just said it so he wouldn't have to explain things further.

"I'm Diana. You're tall." She states, very matter of factly, and Hal snorts out a laugh.

"Barry! Barry! Barry!" 

He feels a hand tug on his shorts and looks down at the small boy who's trying to get his attention. "Yeah, Erik?"

"Justin has pop and - and Mentos and we're gonna make an explosion!" He tells Barry, making an exploding sound for added effect. "He says you know how it works. Do you wanna see?!"

"I'd love to, but Hal and I have to catch a bus. Maybe later, okay?"

"What time does the bus come anyway?" Hal asks, as Diana continues to analyse him with her judgemental green eyes.

"Oh, it's usually here at…" Barry glances at his watch. 

It used to belong to his dad, and his grandfather before him. There's an inscription on the back: every second is a gift. The watch is telling him he hasn't got many seconds right now. His stomach drops.

"...Five...minutes...past…oh god!"

Barry breaks into a sprint, dodging the children and spewing apologies. They just laugh and shout 'run' at him, all too used to it. Hal follows and easily passes him out once they turn the corner and spot the bus. By some miracle, they get there right after the doors shut, and the driver opens them again once he sees the two boys. He looks completely unphased when they stumble on.

"Morning, Barry. New friend?" 

Barry nods breathlessly as he hands over the money for his fare. 

Hal walks to the very back of the bus as it pulls out from the stop and sits down, stretching his long legs across the seats. It makes sense, he seems like a back of the bus person. Probably a back of the class person too. Barry isn't, but he collapses in the space left beside him. Hal bursts out laughing as Barry tries to catch his breath. There's a few others on the bus, mostly elderly folks, who glance back at the two teenagers.

"If you knew what time the bus was coming we should have left sooner. Avoid the last-minute desperate rush and…. asthma attack? Seriously, are you okay?" Hal says, sitting up to put a hand on his shoulder. His eyes are filled with concern. 

"Yeah." Barry wheezes. "Not asthma….just….unfit. And yeah...I know. Time management...is not...my strong suit."

"Uh huh." 

They're both quiet for a little while, as Hal lets Barry catch his breath. The brunet looks out the window at the city he's unfamiliar with, and Barry looks at him. He wonders how different it is to Coast City. More red brick, probably. No palm trees. Barry's only knowledge of Southern California comes from movies and tv shows. 

"Those kids seem to like you." Hal comments.

"Oh, yeah, I guess. I tutor a few of them and their siblings. Maths and science."

"Sounds a lot easier than yard work. That's how I made some money back home."

"It...requires a lot of patience."

Hal snorts. "So does Mr Goldberg's lawn mower." 

They get off at the bus depot in the heart of the city. Barry leads Hal to the nearest stationary shop, and he's grateful to step into the air-conditioned building. He's also glad he changed into shorts, even if it probably contributed to them being late. It's already hot and it's only the morning, so it's bound to be stifling later. They browse the large selection of cheap spiral notebooks and Hal grabs a few. 

"Hey look, this one's got a dinosaur on it." He says, tapping Barry's arm to get his attention. He adds it to the baseball-patterned and the star-patterned ones he's already picked up.

Barry picks up a notebook that has the periodic table on the cover. He has the whole thing memorised, but it's always useful to have. There's also graph paper in it. He finds another, Star Trek themed notepad, which has 'captain's log' printed at the top of each page. He grabs a few extra pens too, because they often run out, or mysteriously 'disappear' from his pencil case. 

Hal, to his great delight, finds a ring binder that has a picture of a jet on it. He's able to tell Barry the exact model of it, who designed it, it's dimensions and top speed. It makes him feel better about his microwave tangent yesterday, which haunted him last night as he tried to go to sleep because of course Hal knows how a microwave works, could he really not think of anything else to talk about? Despite what Hal said yesterday, by now he must have realised how boring Barry really is. 

They pay for their items, and while Barry is barely able to maintain eye contact with the pretty girl working behind the counter, Hal manages to leave her blushing as they exit the shop. 

"How do you do that?" Barry asks as they start walking down the street.

"Do what?"

"Talk to people. Talk to girls."

Hal shrugs nonchalantly. "Oh, it's easy, really. You just smile and compliment them. Not the usual bullshit - like the 'you have the prettiest eyes I've ever seen' kinda thing, because that doesn't work on everyone. They've probably heard that before. You gotta pick something unique - like maybe she's wearing a band t-shirt, so you tell her she's got good taste in music."

"What if you don't know the band?"

He waves a hand. "Just be vague about it." 

"But...then your whole relationship is built on a lie."

"Who said I was looking for a relationship?" 

His answer takes Barry by surprise. "Isn't everyone?"

"Not always. Sometimes you just want a bit of fun."

"So that's all it is? Some fun?" He asks, thinking about all the flirting Hal had been doing yesterday. What was the point of it if he wasn't even looking for a date? Maybe Barry's just old-fashioned when it comes to that sort of thing. Daphne often jokes about him being an old soul.  

"Nothing wrong with having fun. You should try it sometime. It's good for you." Hal says, clapping him on the back in what Barry supposes is a friendly way, but he's not used to it, and it almost knocks him over. Hal laughs and apologises to him.

That's another thing he's learned about Hal. He's a very tactile person. Or maybe Barry just isn't as tactile as other people. He's not used to being touched, and he notices touch a lot more because of it. 

The only person who offers him much physical affection is Daphne. Barry figures girls are more generous when it comes to that. He's not about to go asking Darryl for a hug, because that's just not the nature of their relationship, and the most his dad can offer him is a hand pressed up against glass. His mom used to hug him a lot, and kiss him goodnight.

He feels that awful hollowness again. Thinking about her doesn't hurt as much as it used to, but he doesn't think he'll ever completely get over losing her. It was too sudden and too horrible. But, sometimes, he's able to look back on memories of her with fondness and a smile. 

"Oh, I need to get some stamps, and envelopes. Letter writing stuff. My little brother wants me to write to him." Hal announces suddenly.

"You've got a brother?"

"Yeah. Two."

"Oh, what're they like?" Barry's always wondered what it would be like to have siblings. Maybe he wouldn't have felt so alone after his mom died if he had a brother or sister to share his grief with. Maybe he wouldn't be so lonely, period.

"Jim is the baby. He's twelve. He's annoying sometimes, but that's just what little brothers are like. I guess he kinda looks up to me? His mistake." Hal tells him with a shrug. 

His expression changes to something more negative. "Then there's my older brother, Jack. He's twenty. Studying law in college. He's a prick."

"Oh. I wish I had-"

"A brother or sister? That's what all the only kids say." Hal finishes for him, and then pauses. "You...are an only child, right?"

"Yeah."

"Oh right. See, I know sometimes foster kids get separated and stuff..."

"Sometimes, yeah." Barry nods. His heart rate increases just a touch, and he wonders if Hal is going to try asking him about his parents again.

"I mean, I hate having brothers sometimes, but I wouldn't want to be separated from them like that." Hal says. He pauses for a beat. "Though...I guess I kinda am right now."

"Do you miss them?" 

"Not yet. Ask again in a week, I might miss teasing Jim. Maybe in a few months I'll even start to miss Jack."

Barry wonders why Hal doesn't get along with his older brother. Did they have a falling out or is it just a personality clash? It feels rude to ask.

They stop by the large post office in the centre of the city, and Hal gets what he needs. Barry picks up some stamps too, because they're always useful. He writes to his dad sometimes, and occasionally orders the odd fanzine or two via mail. 

"I think that's everything. So, where to now? Any cool hangouts I should know about?" Hal asks.

"If there are any, I'm not familiar with them."

"Well, where do you like to go?"

"...the library?"

"Pass. Where else?"

"The comic shop?"

"Okay. Let's go then." Hal takes a hold of his arm and starts pulling him along. 

"But there won't be any new comics out until Wednesday!" Barry splutters. "And uh...it's the other way." 

"Oh. Right." Hal turns around and starts walking in the other direction. 

Not long later, Hal is pushing open the door to Central City Comics and the bells above it are announcing their arrival. Craig looks up from the Spider-Man comic in his hands. His eyebrows raise over his glasses, clearly surprised to see Barry on a Sunday morning, and with company too. He's been coming here on his own for years, only joined by Daphne on the very rare occasion. She prefers to go see a movie or get lunch when they hang out, though she doesn't actually say it. 

"Barry?"

He gives him an awkward wave. "Hi."

"Hey, I'm Hal." The brunet introduces himself. 

"Craig. Nice to meet you." 

"Nice place you got here." Hal comments, taking in his surroundings with his hands on his hips. Something catches his eye and he wanders over to take a look. Barry approaches the counter. 

"No offence or anything kid, but I didn't think you had any friends." Craig whispers, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Uh, he's...new." 

"And definitely not from 'round here." 

"He's Californian."

"That makes sense. Well, you're obviously too early - for once - for new comics, but I had a few people come in and add stuff to the corkboard since Wednesday. A few fanzines you might like." Craig says, throwing a thumb over to the notice board at the back of the shop, behind the game tables. There's dozens of sheets and posters tacked to it, advertising various geeky things. 

"Thanks." Barry says, making his way towards it. After a minute or so, a poster advertising another issue of a Star Trek fanzine he's been following catches his eye. Clearly there was enough interest in the last one to warrant organising another. He wonders who else is ordering it. A few slips have already been torn off the poster. 

Barry glances over his shoulder at Hal, who's busy flicking through an issue of the Blackhawk limited series from last year.

He turns back to the advertisement and quickly tears off one of the address slips at the bottom of it. He shoves it into his pocket before anyone can see, then spends another minute looking at the board. 

"Hey Barry, have you read this?"

He goes over to Hal, who excitedly shows him the comic about a team of WWII fighter pilots with various code names, fighting the Axis powers. Barry hasn't read it, but it certainly seems right up Hal's alley. Not for the first time he thinks, wow, this guy is really into planes.

When they leave the shop Hal's got a brown paper bag with the first issue in it. Barry would feel bad about leaving without buying anything himself if he wasn't such a loyal customer. 

"Hey, Is there an In-N-Out around here?" Hal asks.

"In and out?"

"Oh my god. You guys don't have In-N-Out ?" Hal asks, stopping dead in his tracks. Barry walks right into him, and lets out an involuntary oof .

"Sorry! And...uh...we've got Big Belly Burger ?" Barry offers. Hal dramatically puts his hands on his hips, drops his head and sighs.

"No beach, no In-N-Out, no airfields, no..." he drifts off. "This is going to be a tough few months."

Barry isn't sure how to reply to that, so he just says the first thing that comes to mind. "You're going to love Missouri winter." 

Hal groans dramatically, but smiles, and Barry can't help but chuckle. He doesn't often use sarcasm for fear it sounds rude, but Hal seems to appreciate it. 

"I know a diner not far from here." Barry suggests. "It's cheap and the food is nice."

"As long as it's got AC." Hal says, tugging at the front of his t-shirt and starting to follow Barry's lead to the diner. "How do you guys handle this? I mean it's hot back home but at least it's dry."

"It's not the heat that'll get you, but the humidity. I don't like the summer."

"Woah, the weather isn't that bad. Summer is still the best season." 

Barry shrugs. It's not just the weather. He misses school too. "I like the fall."

Hal pushes open the door to Susie's diner and holds it open for Barry, which he thinks is very nice of him. The diner looks like something out of the sixties, and Barry imagines that's because it is right out of the sixties, rather than a stylistic choice. The worn and cracked red leather seating further proves his theory. The place probably hasn't been refurbished in thirty years. 

Barry likes it though. His dad used to bring him here the odd sunday morning, while his mom went to church. He used to go with her, until it became apparent that Barry had little interest in religion, and spent the whole time daydreaming. He's never been the spiritual type. Nora wasn't going to force it on him, and felt she could instill good morals in him without the fear of God. And she did. Henry never went to church, and as far as Barry can recall, his lack of faith didn't cause any conflict between his parents. He wishes he could have those mornings back. 

The diner does a late breakfast on Sundays, and the haze of cigarette smoke that is present in almost every other place is absent here, thanks to Susie's very controversial no smoking signs. Most people disapprove of that policy, but Barry thinks it's a pretty good idea. He's never been a big fan of smoking, perhaps because unlike everyone else's, neither of his parents smoked. Or at least, not during his lifetime. He's seen pictures of his mom holding cigarettes as a teenager, but that apparently stopped once she met the doctor she'd end up marrying. 

They slide into a corner booth, by the window looking out onto the street. Hal immediately grabs one of the folded up menu cards to read through it, pushing his sunglasses up to nestle in his chestnut hair. 

Barry already knows what he's ordering - they do fantastic pancakes here. Big fluffy ones with maple syrup, that used to leave him feeling just a little bit sick as a kid if he ate all of them, so he used to share a plate with his dad. At some point a few years back half a plate stopped being enough to satisfy him, and he'd had one of those weird what the hell, I'm growing up moments. 

Susie herself, a plump, older lady with grey hair pulled into a bun, comes to take their order. Barry hadn't asked, but she told him last year that she only works Sundays now, because that's when her favourite customers come in. Then she winked at him. Her children manage things every other day. She's talkative like that. He usually just nods along to be polite. 

The first time Barry had come here without his dad he had been twelve or so, and she hadn't said anything, but gave him his pancakes on the house. The case had been all over the news - DOCTOR KILLS WIFE - and she'd probably heard what had happened. She smiles at the two boys.

"You've got company today, huh?" She asks, and he feels his cheeks flush, but not from the heat.

As much as Barry appreciates all these people paying enough attention to notice that something is different, he really doesn't need the constant reminders that he's a loner, and neither does Hal. It's not like he always comes here alone - Daphne joins him sometimes, and in total has probably spoken more words to Susie than he has himself. 

He just nods, embarrassed. 

"Pancakes and a milkshake?" Susie asks, but she's already scribbling it into her notebook. He bobs his head again in confirmation. She looks at Hal. "And what about you, young man?"

"Yeah, I'll try the pancakes too. And a soda, please."

"Sure thing." She notes it down and then points at him with her pencil, raising a brow. "Did your t-shirt shrink in the wash or did you buy it like that?"

"No, uh, it's meant to be like that." Hal says awkwardly, which sounds unnatural compared to the suaveness Barry has quickly become accustomed to.

"Kids these days." She says, without any malice, shaking her head and walking away.

It's only then that Hal notices the wallbox at the side of the table, which is hooked up to the jukebox on the other end of the diner. He starts to push the button on the side, flicking through the song catalogue. 

"They're all old ones." He says, sounding disappointed.

"I like older music. Especially jazz."

Hal tilts his head at him. "You're kind of an oddball, you know that?"

From anyone else it might sound like an insult, but Hal lacks the judgemental tone others have. He sounds more curious than anything. Barry shrugs. "So I've been told." 

"Like, you're weird, but also chill? I don't know, dude. I can't figure you out." Hal says, then goes back to browsing the song options. Barry thinks it's a compliment. 

He eventually stops on the second last page, and then starts fishing around in his pocket. He pulls out a fist of coins, and sorts through them, looking for a dime. Barry finds one in his own pocket much quicker, and holds it out to him.

"Here. I have one."

"Oh. Thanks."

Hal pops the coin in and makes his selection, pressing the right combination of letter and number. Nothing happens at first, and the song currently playing - Elvis's Jailhouse Rock - continues. 

"I hope the damn thing works, or else you just wasted a dime."

Elvis finishes up thirty seconds later, and then the next song starts. Barry recognises it - Frank Sinatra's Come Fly With Me. Hal's selection surprises him, but also doesn't. It is a song about flying, after all. It's a nice choice.

Come fly with me, let's fly, let's fly away

If you can use some exotic booze, there's a bar in far Bombay

Come fly with me, let's fly, let's fly away

They listen to it quietly for a while, and then Hal tells him that his parents used to dance to this song. He hasn't heard it in years.

"Oh. That's sweet." 

Hal just nods and looks out the window. There's a hint of sadness in his face, and Barry wonders why it's been years since Hal heard it last. Are his parents separated or divorced now? Darryl never mentioned talking to Hal's dad over the phone. Only his mom. And last night Hal only said he was calling her. Maybe his dad is just away a lot - Hal said he's a pilot. 

Barry brushes away those curious thoughts. It's really none of his business, and he's in no position to judge anyone else's family situation. Besides, Barry hadn't explained his family issues last night, so Hal's under no obligation to share his own, even if it's pretty obvious they exist.

It's odd. Hal presents himself as an open book, but seems closed off too. 

Susie comes back with their drinks, and asks them if they're starting school tomorrow. 

"You must be what - a junior by now?" 

"Senior." Barry says, and her eyes bug out. 

"A senior ? Well, I'll be damned. Time flies. I remember when you couldn't even tie your own shoe." She says. Barry feels himself blush again, and Hal smirks, clearly amused. 

Susie leaves them again and Hal opens his can of coca-cola. "So uh, you're really a loner, huh? Pretty much everyone has commented on it today."

Barry stirs his milkshake and sighs. "Yeah." 

"I just don't get it. Like, what problem do people have with you? People our age, I mean. Everyone else seems to like you."

"Didn't they tell you yesterday?"

"Yeah but - that had nothing to do with you. It was all bullshit they were assuming based on your parents. It was pretty clear they've never actually talked to you, because if they had they'd know you're…" Hal drifts off, trying to find the right word, "...you're really nice, y'know."

Hal shrugs, and starts to pour his coca-cola into the glass full of ice Susie put in front of him. Barry's glad he's occupied because it means he misses the heat that's no doubt colouring Barry's checks. 

He mentally scolds himself. He shouldn't be blushing like this because of a compliment from another boy. The last thing he needs is Hal thinking he's...y'know, a queer, and getting flustered all the time is bound to be a giveaway. 

Along with giving him butterflies, Hal's words offer relief too. If what the others had told Hal was just related to his parents, then that means the other rumours weren't brought up. He's not even sure where those rumours came from. He thinks he's always been very subtle and careful about hiding it, but they were calling him gay before he even realised he liked boys. What did he do to give it away? How could they tell before he could tell himself?

Barry distracts himself by flicking through the song options. He almost doesn't have to look at the number and letter assigned to each song, he's so familiar with them. He slots another dime into the wallbox and plays 'Can't Take My Eyes off You' by Frankie Valli & The Four Seasons. 

Their pancakes arrive, carried out by another server. They both tuck in almost immediately. 

"Holy shit," Hal says, right after swallowing a mouthful, "These are awesome." 

"Best pancakes in the city." Barry agrees. 

They eat quietly for a while, until Hal breaks the silence with what sounds like something between a question and a statement.

"So...Daphne."

Barry looks up at him, not sure where this is going. He hopes not anywhere inappropriate. Suzie might be eavesdropping somewhere. She does that from time to time. "...Daphne?"

"Yeah. Yesterday it sounded like you guys have been friends since you were kids."

Barry internally breathes a sigh of relief.

"We have. We're both from a small town in Iowa called Fallville. She lived next door. Our families both moved to Central City around the same time, and even though we weren't neighbours anymore we stayed friends. She's the only person who stuck by me after...after I lost my mom." 

Hal graciously glosses over the mention of his mom, and Barry is grateful for it. "So you guys are actually Iowans? Like Kirk."

He chuckles at the Trek reference. "Yeah."

"It's nice that you guys stayed friends. So...do you like her?"

"...Is liking someone not a requirement for friendship?"

Hal laughs. "No, I mean do you like-like her? Because I stand by what I said yesterday. She definitely likes you."

Barry's not sure how Hal is drawing this conclusion. As far as he's concerned, Daphne is simply the only person who calls him a friend, which is far more than most offer him. Why would he want to ruin that by asking her for more? And besides, she could have any boy she wanted to. Including Hal, apparently.

"I also standby what I said yesterday. She doesn't like me in that way. In fact...I think she has an eye for you."

"Oh really?" Hal asks, sitting back and tilting his head. A smile plays on his lips.

"I really shouldn't be telling you this, but yesterday she came over to me and she was gushing about you. She uh...she said you had nice eyes." Barry quietly informs him. He can't help but feel like he's betraying Daphne's trust - after all, girls generally tell people things like this in confidence. 

"I have nice eyes?" Hal says, giving Barry a look that demonstrates that fact. People tend to overhype blue and green eyes, in his opinion. Maybe it's because he himself has blue eyes, and doesn't think they're all that special. He's always liked brown and hazel eyes. He remembers watching reruns of Star Trek: The Original Series with his parents, and although Spock was his favourite character, he was mesmerised by Kirk's hazel gaze, which was often emphasised with a spotlight.

"You do. Um, according to her." Wow, really smooth there, Allen.

"I tend to have that effect on girls." Hal says, like it's a known fact. "She had only just met me though, so I wouldn't take it to mean anything. I still think she likes you."

"If you want to think that, alright."

"You still haven't answered my question. Do you like her?"

"...Why do you care?"

Hal shrugs. "I'm just interested, that's all."

"I've never really thought about it."

"You haven't?"

"No."

The brunet chuckles and shakes his head. "You've gotta be the most virginal guy I've ever met. That, or…"

There's something about that which causes an anxious feeling to rapidly take hold of Barry's chest. "Or what?"

"Nothing. You're just very...proper. Like, if you didn't belive in sex before marriage I wouldn't be all that shocked."

Barry's cheeks heat up. Okay, maybe he is a little...traditional, but he isn't a puritan . "I'm not religious. Ideas like that are dated."

"So say, if the opportunity were to arise?"

" Hal. We're in a public place ." Barry drops his voice to a whisper, which makes the other boy laugh loudly. He just knows that his face is bright red right now. 

"Oh wow. Y'know, you're really proving my point about you being incredibly virginal."

" Hal ." Barry pleads, and Hal puts his hands up, grinning.

"Okay, okay. It can wait till later."

Later? Barry hopes they don't return to the topic at all. For one, he's not used to discussing things like this with another person. Whenever Daphne asks if he likes anyone, he says there's no one, so she just goes back to talking about the latest celebrity she's started a scrapbook page for (currently Tom Cruise). He likes to mull over crushes from a safe distance until they pass. 

Unfortunately for him, Hal is quickly becoming a crush, and he is not at all at a safe distance. Barry can't remember the last time he spent this much time with another boy his age. It's like the longest group project of his life, and there isn't any fun science project to distract him. 

Hal also seems to have considerably more experience than he does in...such matters. Or acts like it, anyway. Barry's never even kissed a girl. Well, Daphne kissed him once back in second grade, but they were just little kids then, it doesn't count. 

They finish up their food and pay. After that they're back out into the streets and the sticky heat. The fall can't come soon enough for Barry. They take the bus back to Danville. Darryl is awake, watching tv in the living room, when they arrive in the door with their shopping. Barry can't help but notice the news footage reporting on the AIDs crisis, and the way Darryl shakes his head at it.

Another reason Barry wants to be straight. He's been following the whole epidemic since he became aware of it, consuming all the news and research done. Scientifically, he knows it has nothing to do with one's sexuality. Anyone can contract HIV; through sex, blood transfusions or dirty needles. But there's such a stigma attached to it. The government reaction to the crisis was incredibly slow, because it happened to become a problem in the gay community first, and people saw it as a 'gay disease.' Who cares if they die? 

Barry knows it's unjust. And he hates it. But it's hard to shake off that stigma. 

"There you are, boys. Get everything you need?"

"Yeah." Barry says.

"Good, good. Well, I've been thinking, and I figure I should probably put some rules in place. I was talking to your mother on the phone earlier Hal, and I think it would give her some peace of mind."

Hal doesn't look entirely pleased by that, and it shows on his face, but he nods. Hal did ask about rules yesterday, and Barry figures he was hoping Darryl wouldn't bring it up.

"Well, first things first, if it's illegal, don't do it. I won't tolerate law breaking, for obvious reasons. No skipping school - your mom told me you do that from time to time. Keep your grades up, but don't worry too much about being a wonk like Barry here."

Barry huffs a little in protest, even though it's true - he is a bit of a wonk. Though he doesn't see why that's a bad thing. Better than him failing every class. 

Hal skipping school is news to him. He told Barry he hadn't done anything else to warrant being sent away. Ditching classes sounds pretty bad to him.

Darryl continues. "If you want to go anywhere, Barry goes with you. He needs to get out of the house more anyway." 

Wow. Everyone really seems to be out to make him look as uncool as possible today, huh? How has Hal not realised how much of a loser he is yet? Barry thinks those are some very reasonable rules, but he wouldn't break any of them anyway. 

"Yeah, okay." Hal agrees. 

"Good." 

They take their shopping bags upstairs and get organised for school tomorrow. 

"What if I have like, a date or something? Do you have to come with?" Hal asks, going through his pencil case and sharpening a few pencils. He's sitting at the desk, while Barry sits on his bed, books and bag spread out in front of him.

Third wheeling with Hal and some girl sounds like a nightmare. "I hope not. And I thought you said you weren't looking for anyone?" 

"I'm using the term date very broadly." He wiggles his eyebrows. 

It takes Barry a second to catch Hal's meaning. "...Oh."

"So...back to our earlier conversation." Hal says, twirling a pencil between his fingers. The end of it has clearly been gnawed on. All of his old ones have. It's kind of gross, but unfortunately not gross enough to be a dealbreaker. "Was I right about you being a virgin?"

It's really none of his business. Barry knows he doesn't have to answer him. But he finds himself answering anyway, and giving far more than the simple 'yes' that's required. "I…yeah. But what does it matter? I mean, I'm only seventeen. And I've only been legal for a few months. I've got lots of time."

"Legal? Wait, what's the age of consent here?"

"Seventeen."

Hal rolls his eyes. "Lucky. It's eighteen back home." 

"I...have a feeling that didn't stop you?" Barry asks, and gosh, he can feel his face burning up again. It feels like such an invasion of privacy to ask a question like that, especially when they've known each other all of twenty-four hours. However, it seems like Hal wants Barry to ask about it. 

Hal laughs. "Hell no. I lost my virginity at the end of sophomore year."

"Oh. Was it...nice?" He inquires, and immediately wants to curl into a ball, because he couldn't possibly sound more awkward, oh god. 

"Nice? It was great . I was at a party some of the upperclassmen were throwing. This really hot girl came up to me, a junior or a senior, I'm not sure. And she started hitting on me. I don't think she realised I was a sophomore, but hey, I certainly wasn't gonna tell her. We made out for a while, and she asked me if I wanted to go upstairs. I'm not even sure whose house it was, or who the bed belonged to, but I said hell yeah I do." 

"What was her name?" Barry asks. Hal's smug grin falters.

"I uh...I don't know. Either I didn't ask, or I forgot. I had had a few beers, I think." 

"Oh."

So Hal lost his virginity to a stranger, who was older than him, in another stranger's bed? While somewhat intoxicated? It doesn't sound all that great to Barry. It sounds a bit dubious, if he's being honest.

"What?" Hal asks.

"Huh?"

"You're frowning."

Barry rubs the back of his neck, and looks down at the notebooks laying on his bed. "It's...don't you wish it had been...I don't know...more special?" 

Hal snorts a laugh. "What, like rose petals and candles?"

"Maybe not quite that. Special as in, with someone you know and trust?" 

The brunet stares at Barry for a beat or two, like he isn't sure how to respond, and then shrugs, looking back at the pencil in his hand. "When you're a teenager you take whatever you can get. At a party, in a car. You won't get anywhere just waiting around for the 'right person,' or whatever."

"I mean...if that's what works for you. I just...I want it to be special, y'know?"

Hal rolls his eyes, but smiles. "You're such a romantic. Y'know once we're outta high school and the nerd thing becomes a non-issue, you're gonna have girls lining up."

Barry's puzzlement must show on his face, because Hal continues. "Seriously. You're the kind of guy that girls will want to marry in ten years."

The idea of women queuing up to marry him is ridiculous. "Why?"

"You're gonna be college educated, with a steady income. There won't be any chance of you dying at work - unless you have some freaky lab accident or something - and you're not half bad-looking. Give it a few years, you might look less twinkish." Hal says, pointing a pencil at him.

"...twinkish?" Barry's never heard that word before. Is it some Californian slang that hasn't spread yet? And did Hal just say he was good-looking?

Hal laughs, but doesn't offer any explanation. He picks up another pencil. "Anyway."

Barry continues labeling his notebooks for various subjects, making sure his name is on everything. Often he sees someone using a pen or pencil that looks suspiciously like his, but he can't prove it. He's hoping that it might deter thieves. 

He writes Barry H. Allen on another sticker label. When he was twelve, his dad asked him to change his name, so he wouldn't be associated with him. And sure, it made sense. It might have eased the bullying when he moved into middle school. Even Darryl agreed it might be for the best. But Barry had refused. Why let one false accusation taint the name of the doctor who had saved so many lives during his career? Henry had pleaded with him, but deep down Barry thinks he appreciated the gesture, and that was worth the bullying. Besides, people were going to bully him anyway for being quiet and studious.

His mind keeps circling back to what Darryl said about Hal skipping school. Did he lie to him about it, or does Hal genuinely not consider it a big deal? Can he ask about it? Would he even mind? Hal, for the most part, seems to be much more of an open book than Barry is. 

He clears his throat and immediately regrets it, because Hal turns around and raises his eyebrows at him, with a pencil between his teeth. 

"So um. You...skip classes?" 

Rather than look any way defensive about it, Hal seems amused. "I knew you'd ask about that."

"You uh, didn't mention it."

"I got the feeling you wouldn't be very impressed by it. But yeah, I played hooky a few times."

"Why?"

"To watch test flights. Sometimes I'd hear about flights scheduled during the day, and if I felt I could reasonably miss a few classes to go watch them, I would. I'd get the notes or homework from someone in my class and catch up. It wasn't the end of the world if I was caught, because I still had the work done." 

Barry considers."I still think skipping school is bad but...that doesn't sound as bad as I had imagined."

"What were you imagining?" Hal asks with a grin, shifting in the chair to straddle it, arms crossed over the back. His eyes shine with curiosity. Barry shrugs. 

"I dunno."

"C'mon. I know you were thinking I was doing something far worse than watching a few jets." 

"I'll admit I was expecting something less innocent than looking at test flights, but nothing specific."

"I know you were imagining me getting wasted in a parking lot somewhere."

"I mean...I did see you drink beer yesterday." Barry says quietly. Darryl can't hear them from downstairs, but he worries all the same. 

Hal laughs. " One beer. Bar, I told you that's nothing. I meant to say thanks actually, for letting it slide. I wasn't sure if you'd snitch or not."

"I probably would have. If it were someone else. But I...wanted you to like me." Barry admits. It sounds a little desperate though, so he tacks on, "Y'know, because we're stuck together."

"Yeah, I feel you. I left out the skipping school thing because I wanted you to like me too."

"I do. Like you, I mean. I had some preconceptions about you being a troublemaker - which you still are - but not as bad as I thought. You're a very nice troublemaker."

Hal throws his head back with laughter, and Barry laughs too, because while sincere, it did sound ridiculous. 

"You're pretty cool, for a nerd. You're not the kind of guy I'd usually choose to hang out with, but I like hanging out with you."

Barry feels something in his chest. He really likes this dynamic they have right now, and he hopes school tomorrow won't change it. It's only been twenty-four hours or so, but it feels like they're friends now, and he wants it to stay that way.

Chapter Text

Beep beep beep

Barry groans and reaches out to turn off the alarm. The digital clock reads 6:00am. He rolls over. Barry hears Hal stir somewhere on the floor. 

The next alarm goes off three minutes later. Barry turns it off again. The third time the alarm goes off he hears Hal getting up. Barry decides to wait for the fourth alarm, and buries his face into the pillow. It's okay. He still has time. 

"Hey, what time does class start?"

"Eight." Barry replies groggily.

"What time does the bus come?"

"7.07." 

"Very specific. Alright." 

Hal goes to the bathroom, and Barry drifts off again. The alarm goes off a fourth time. He'll get up after the fifth. He still has time.

Hal is the one who turns off the fifth alarm, back after a quick shower.

"It's 6.15 now. You uh, gonna get up?" 

"Uh huh." 

Barry slides his eye mask up and peeks his eyes open, just in time to see Hal bending over and pulling on his underwear. 

"Oh!" He verbalises his surprise before he can stop himself, and covers his eyes. 

Hal looks over his shoulder, hair still damp, and clearly unbothered by his momentary nakedness. "Sorry. Should I get changed in the bathroom instead?" 

"No, no! It's okay." Barry says, averting his eyes again as he pulls off his duvet and gets out of bed. He grabs the clothes he laid out last night and points towards the door. "I'm just gonna. Yeah."

Barry shuts the bathroom door behind him and slumps up against it. He feels like his face is burning. He simultaneously feels like he's seen too much and too little. Of course it's not the first time he's seen another guy changing, but he avoids it as much as possible. He often waits around in the bathroom after PE until the other boys are finished, before showering and changing himself (resulting in him being late for the next period more often than not). And it's not just because he's worried he'll find them attractive. 

Barry forces himself to think of something else, because otherwise he's going to need to take a cold shower. He mentally recites the periodic table as he strips and steps under the water.

The shower starts going cold anyway halfway through, and he gets out of there as fast as possible. He pulls on some jeans and a blue button up shirt. Nobody's going to notice what he wears, because few people notice him anyway, but his mom always said it's important to be presentable, even if it's just for the first day. He considers a bow tie, but decides against it. 

When he finally comes downstairs he meets Darryl in the hallway, grabbing his car keys. He's wearing a shirt and tie, and holding a box full of case files. Barry sometimes peeks at what he brings home, and even though he's very careful about it, Darryl's probably caught onto him. He hasn't confronted him about it yet, so until then Barry will keep doing it. 

"Barry, there you are. Try not to be late today, son. It's one thing if it's just you, but it's not fair to make Hal late too." 

"New year, new me." Barry says, though he has a feeling it's a resolution that won't last very long. Darryl doesn't seem all that convinced either, but encourages him.

"That's the spirit. Have a good day at school. I trust you'll show Hal around." 

"Have a good day at work." 

Darryl huffs out a laugh and leaves. Barry joins Hal in the kitchen. He's already almost finished his breakfast, and is sitting at the table with the radio, which is rather appropriately playing Manic Monday by The Bangles. Barry wanders over to the toaster. 

"I thought you'd be the kind of person who's excited to go back to school."

"I'm looking forward to seeing my teachers again, I just don't like getting up early."

Hal grins and teases him. "Looking forward to seeing teachers? That's more like what I was expecting." 

"You seem pretty excited too, Mr Too Cool For School."

Hal laughs, and Barry's relieved that his joke landed. Or maybe he's laughing because it was lame? 

"Of course. I mean, fuck classes and early starts, but I'm the new kid. That could be all kinds of fun if I play it right." 

Barry looks over his shoulder at him, making sure to portray his confusion on his face. Being the new kid is fun? Said no one ever. Except this guy, apparently. He's quite sociable, Barry supposes. Hal genuinely seemed to enjoy meeting people on Saturday. Until Lance started being Lance, that is. 

He keeps talking while Barry quickly makes breakfast. "I could tell people literally anything and they wouldn't be able to dispute it. I could say I know a celebrity….who could I know?"

"...Patrick Swayze?"

"The guy from The Outsiders ?"

"...Yeah." Barry was thinking more along the lines of Dirty Dancing , but he doubts Hal has seen it. He'd probably call it a chick flick. Although, he did surprise Barry by liking Star Trek.

"Oh! I could say Tom Cruise." 

Barry doesn't think people are all that likely to believe that, but then again, some are pretty gullible, and Hal is from California. As far as Barry is concerned, he's far more likely to bump into celebrities out there than here in the Midwest. Coast City is between LA and San Diego, after all. 

He sits down across the table from Hal with his toast and orange juice, and a few seconds later Hal gets up, his own plate empty. He takes it to the sink. 

"By the way - sorry about earlier. I probably should have asked before baring it all." 

Barry very nearly chokes on his toast, and quickly covers his face with the glass of juice. "I was just surprised."

Hal looks at him over his shoulder, hands in the sink, "Yeah, I could tell. You don't have two brothers like I do, so I guess you have some semblance of privacy."

He grabs the towel and dries his hands. "Nothing worse than getting caught by your little brother when you're in the middle of jerking off." 

Barry does choke a little this time, and tries his best to hide it. "...I uh, can't say I relate." 

Hal glances at the clock on the wall. "You're cutting things kinda tight, Bar."

The shortening of his name (well, further shortening) is new, and Barry thinks he likes it. "It's fine, I'll just eat my breakfast quickly."

Hal goes upstairs again to brush his teeth and grab his school bag. It's 6:56am, and Barry isn't anywhere near ready to go. 

They finally leave the house and start walking towards the bus stop at 7:05. Halfway there, Barry realises he forgot his calculator on his desk, and runs back for it, once again delaying them. They just barely catch the bus, and stumble on late in a similar fashion to yesterday. The driver looks disappointed, but not at all surprised.

"C'mon. You're a senior now, kid. You know what time I'll be here." 

"Sorry. I'll try to be on time tomorrow." Barry wheezes out, lungs burning from the run. 

"And maybe someday that will be true." She says with a sigh. Barry hears a few snickers from the others on the bus. He's become somewhat of a legend, but not the good kind. They've dubbed him Tardy Allen.

There's not many seats left, and certainly none in the back, so he takes one near the front. Hal slides in next to him, but doesn't look happy about it.

"It's bad enough taking the bus as seniors, but sitting in the front of the bus?" He whispers.

"Does it matter?" Barry asks, though he knows it probably does when you're a popular guy like Hal, who can drive.

"It's like social suicide."

"My whole existence feels like social suicide." 

"Well…" Hal says, like he's going to disagree, but can't think of a counterpoint.

The journey to the school takes fifteen minutes, and while yes, Barry is looking forward to getting back to his usual routine of schoolwork, it gives him plenty of time to get worked up about the social aspect. Breathing is still difficult, even though he's recovered from the mad dash to the bus. Hal asks general questions about school and he gives him quick, one or two word answers. 

"Are you alright, dude?"

"I'm fine." Barry says, trying to push down the tightness in his chest. Nobody else seems this anxious about stuff like this, so why is he?

"Uh huh." 

He needs something to distract himself, so he reaches into his bag and pulls out a Rubix cube. Barry starts to twist it around. Within a minute or so he's got several colours grouped together, and not long later it's solved. 

"Dude. What the fuck?"

Barry looks up at Hal, who's staring at him like he's got four eyes. "Huh?"

"First of all, you solved it, and in like, a minute and a half. How?"

"Oh. There's an algorithm for it."

"An algorithm? For Rubix cubes?"

"Yeah. I could show you, if you'd like?"

Hal looks at the solved cube, no doubt trying to imagine how an algorithm could be applied to such a thing. "I think I'm good. Hey, can I mess it up for you again?"

"Sure." Barry gives it to him, and he immediately starts undoing all of his work. Not that he minds. Hal seems to take pleasure in it.

The bus pulls up at the school and the teenagers spill out, most of them younger than Hal and Barry. The school is a relatively new building. Red brick, about ten years old, and built to accommodate a growing population in the suburb of Danville. The stars and stripes flutter in the breeze high above the entrance, and the Missouri state flag flies directly below it. 

"It's weird being in another state." Hal says, looking up at it and making an observation. "Hey, you guys have bears on your flag. We've got one on ours too."

They walk past students hanging around in the parking lot, leaning against cars, smoking and chatting. He keeps his head down as much as possible, hoping to avoid notice, and grips both straps of his bag. Barry finds it hard to believe he's a senior now. It's strange, going from looking up to the upperclassmen to being one. It seems just like yesterday he was a freshman. 

Hal looks as confident and calm as ever, bag slung over one shoulder and a hand in his pocket. He's wearing Levis and a white t-shirt with the words 'because I was inverted' printed on it. Barry's been trying to figure out what exactly that means all morning, but doesn't want to ask.

"Barry! Hal! Over here!" 

He looks in the direction of Daphne's shout and spots her amongst a group gathered on the lawn in front of the school. She's sporting a green plaid skirt and a white polo shirt. Barry stops in his tracks. 

"C'mon." Hal says, taking Barry's arm and directing him over. 

As they get closer, he recognises the group as Daphne's drama club friends. They still view him as an outcast, but they tolerate him for Daphne's sake. Sometimes they talk to him, but it's usually to ask what the homework was. 

"Remember I was telling you about the guy staying with Barry? This is Hal." 

The ones who weren't at the lake on Saturday introduce themselves. Aaron Hill, Joshua Price, Lori Scott, Tamara Torres, Dana Green and Michael Butler. 

"Cool tee. Top Gun , right?" Michael asks, gesturing to Hal's shirt. He's got dirty blond hair, and is a few inches taller than Barry is. 

Hal grins in response. " Cheeuh . Best movie ever." 

Barry saw Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home several times during the summer of '86, but he didn't see Top Gun - Daphne went to that one with Amanda, Lori, Dana and Tamara. From what he knows about it, and judging by the jacket Hal showed up in, it being his favourite movie makes a lot of sense.

Micheal shrugs. "I wouldn't say the best, but it's definitely good. What's your favourite scene?"

"All of it. You?" 

"Oh...I think the volleyball scene is pretty fun."

Hal very clearly approves of this answer. Barry remembers him mentioning that he likes volleyball, though he's not sure where it would fit in a movie about Navy pilots. "Yeah, it is."

"Tom Cruise is great in it." Lori, a brunette, adds. She's clearly trying to emulate Madonna in her fashion choices, like many of the other girls, with her collection of necklaces and big black hair bow. "Acting-wise, y'know."

"Acting-wise and looks-wise." Tamara, a petite black girl, says with a giggle. Her dark hair is permed and half tied up with a scrunchie. 

"I liked him in Cocktail ." Daphne admits. After much convincing, she got Barry to sneak into the R-rated movie with her last summer. She's got the movie poster on her bedroom wall. It's a very nice poster, with Cruise in a black shirt leaning over a bar, framed by pink neon. 

Aaron, a boy with an abundance of freckles, rolls his eyes at them. "How does every conversation with you guys manage to roll back to him?"

"Because he's gorgeous , Aaron." Dana says, swiping him on the back of the head with her folder, which incidentally is decorated with magazine cut outs of said actor, as well as other heartthrobs. And Madonna, of course. 

Barry stays quiet during this discussion. Best to leave Tom Cruise swooning to the girls. 

"I actually met him once." Hal drops, very casually. Barry wants to roll his eyes now - he's really going to go for it, huh?

"For real?" Tamara asks, skeptical, but clearly hopeful. 

"Yeah, right." Joshua says.

Hal, still playing it off as no big deal, shrugs. "I went for a surf in Malibu with a few friends, and ran into Tom on the beach." 

That would be one of the coolest sentences ever, if Barry didn't know it was all a complete lie. Unfortunately, a few people seem to be buying it.

"What was he like?" 

"He was legit. He signed my board for me. I didn't bring it with me, of course. Not many waves around here." He jokes, easily making the others laugh.

More utter bullshit. Hal told him he rents boards, he doesn't own any. Barry wants to laugh, but doesn't want to give Hal away, especially when everyone is reacting so well to his spiel.

"You surf? That's awesome, dude." Aaron says, seemingly more interested in that than Tom Cruise. 

"From time to time."

"Bet you pick up a lotta chicks - ow!" Dana hits him with the folder again. 

Hal sticks out his bottom lip in a faux-thoughtful way. "A few."

Barry glances at his watch. It's almost eight, and he's pretty sure he needs to take Hal to the office. 

"Uh...Hal?" Barry interrupts. Everyone's eyes immediately fall on him, like they had completely forgotten he was there. He has a feeling he'll get used to that. 

"Yeah, Bar?"

"It's uh, nearly eight. We should probably go to the office." His voice comes out quiet.

"Oh, right. Well, I'll see you guys around." Hal gives them a quick wave. 

Barry gives a glance back as they walk towards the building, and several people don't look too pleased with him for dragging Hal away. He can't say he really blames them. 

He leads Hal through the hallways towards the office and reception, passing couples ferociously tonguing against the lockers and kids pushing and shoving each other. Hal definitely attracts the attention of people - mostly girls - but a few guys turn their heads too, noticing that he's new. 

Lance hasn't appeared yet, to Barry's relief, and they make it to the office without a hitch. However, they really should have gotten there sooner, because the bell for first period rings while the secretary is figuring out which locker and homeroom Hal has been assigned to.

After another minute or two that's sorted out, and Hal is fortunately in the same homeroom as Barry. There's no time to figure out where his locker is though, because they're already late for homeroom, and it's on the other side of the school. 

They finally arrive, a full six minutes late. Mrs Kershaw, an older woman with short permed hair and oversized glasses is sitting at the top of the room. She's been dealing with Barry for the past few years, and gives him a tired look when he walks in. The whole class goes silent, staring up at them. The attention makes him want to squirm.

"Mr Allen, are we going to do this again this year?"

"I'm sorry, Mrs Kershaw." He apologises, winded after his second sprint of the day. He should probably add 'this won't happen again,' but everyone knows that's a lie. 

She leans back in her chair to look at Hal, standing behind Barry in the doorway, and then glances at her class list. "You must be Harold."

"Hal."

"Sorry?"

"I go by Hal."

"Whatever." She says, crossing off his first name and writing Hal over it. "I'll have to mark both of you as tardy."

"Barry was showing me to the office, that's why we're late. It won't happen again."

Barry should really tell him not to make promises like that.

"Well, do you want to introduce yourself to the class?"

"Sure." Hal says, like that isn't the most terrifying thing a teacher could ever ask you to do. "I'm Hal Jordan. I'm from Coast City, California. I'm only here for a few months."

"Alright, take a seat."

Hal closes the door behind him. Barry finds the only two seats left in the class are right up the front, which doesn't bother him - aside from being a prime target for spit wads - but like with the bus earlier, Hal isn't pleased about it. He drops heavily into the chair next to Barry. Whispers start up, and Mrs Kershaw silences them again. 

"I have your schedules." She announces, and starts walking around, passing them out. Barry gets his first, given his name puts him at the top of the roll (and affords him no extra time to be late in the mornings). He carefully studies the schedule, seeing what teachers he has this year. 

Barry is glad to discover that he's got Mr Hegarty for AP physics. He's always been nice to him, and from what he's heard, Mr Hegarty makes tea for his senior classes, which are usually small.

"Hey." Hal pokes his shoulder, making him jump a little. "Gimme your timetable, I wanna see if we have classes together."

"Oh. Okay." Barry says, passing it over and hoping he doesn't look as flustered by that as he feels. He shouldn't be. It makes practical sense for Hal to know which classes Barry will be able to show him to, given he doesn't know the layout of the school yet. 

Hal compares the two, much like how everyone else in the class is doing. "We've got English, Math, Health, and AP Physics together."

"That's great." Hal's in AP Physics? He wasn't expecting that. 

"We've got math after this class. Can we get there fast and grab the seats at the back? Or the middle? Anywhere away from the front. Please?"

"I don't mind being in the front, but okay."

Barry thinks he hides his delight at Hal wanting to sit with him pretty well. 

Mrs Kershaw finishes handing out everyone's schedules and returns to her desk. The intercom switches on and everyone immediately hushes at the sound of a little bell being rung at the other side. The principal starts giving her usual start of year greetings and announcements. She reminds both teachers and staff that smoking is only permitted in the designated area, and any firearms should stay in cars.  

"Please stand for the pledge." 

Everyone stands up, chairs scraping against the floor. They start to rattle off the Pledge of Allegiance, facing the flag at the top of the classroom. 

I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America, and to the republic for which it stands, one nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.

Barry says it with everyone else, but takes issue with it. After his mom was murdered and his dad was imprisoned, he started to pay more attention to the words and their meaning. First of all, he disagrees with the 'under God' part, because he thinks church and state should be separate. 'Indivisible?' Please. When is America not divided? Be the issue AIDs, abortion, or introducing anti-descrimination laws. ' Liberty and justice for all?' His parents certainly didn't get that. He thinks about them every morning when they recite it. 

As much as he disagrees with it, he can't just not say it. He doesn't want to get in trouble, and he doesn't want to draw negative attention. While he might not outwardly show it, at least he can take comfort in the fact that he's thinking critically about it. 

They all sit down afterwards, and Hal leans over to Barry. "You guys still say it in high school?"

"I don't like it either."

Mrs Kershaw gives them a few more announcements, and then lets them talk to each other for the remaining five minutes of the class. 

"Hi, Hal." Amanda greets, quickly approaching Hal's desk. Her hair is in it's usual bow, and she's twirling a strand with her finger, smiling down at him. 

"Oh, hey Amanda."

"Show me your schedule, let's see if we've got any classes together."

"Uh, sure." He says, passing the sheet to her. 

"Math, Spanish and health! Isn't that great?"

"Radical." Hal agrees, without much enthusiasm. 

"I'm still up for being your tour guide, if you'd like. I couldn't find you this morning."

"Thanks, but I've actually got a lot of classes with Barry, so he's gonna show me around."

Amanda finally looks his way, and Barry's discomfort grows under her condescending stare.

"Barry gets lost between one class and the next, he couldn't show a fish around a bowl without being late."

"I'm...quickly discovering his tardiness issue. But it was my fault we were late today." Hal tells her. "Thanks, but I'm good. See you in Math?"

She nods, frowning a little at the realisation that she's just been turned down for Barry of all people. Amanda returns to her own desk by the window. 

Before either of the boys can say anything about that, others start crowding around Hal's desk, and he's cut off from Barry's view entirely. He can hear Hal being bombarded with questions and introductions - everyone's understandably curious about the new kid. He figures he'll just have to get used to it. 

"Hey." 

Barry breaks out of his thoughts and whips his head around to see Daphne sliding into the abandoned seat next to him. He'd almost forgotten she was in his homeroom too. 

"Want to compare schedules?" 

He nods and passes over the sheet, but not before noticing that Hal had marked little stars on all of the classes they have together. 

"Math, English and Health." She says, after checking over it. "I was hoping for a few more, but I'll take it."

"I'll miss you as a lab partner." He tells her, and she laughs.

"Not as much as I'll miss you. Even with you to explain stuff I don't know what's going on most of the time." 

It's a fair statement. Daphne has never grasped science as easily as him, but she excels at English. If Barry was asked to read something aloud to the class he'd stumble over half of the words, but she on the other hand would relish the opportunity. 

"We'll get other chances to hang out." 

"You know, you should sit with us at lunch this year." 

Barry looks down at the graffitied desk. She makes the same suggestion at the start of every year, but it's never lasted long. "I don't think anyone but you wants me there."

"You're not going to ditch Hal and spend lunch in the library, are you?"

He tries to look over towards him, but finds someone's ass in his face, half of the class still gathered around Hal's desk. He turns back to Daphne. "I think Hal can manage just fine on his own." 

"Just for today?" She asks, putting her chin in her hands and employing her pretty green eyes. He caves.

"...Alright. I'll try it out."

Barry usually eats as fast as he can at whatever empty (or mostly empty) table he can find, and then goes to the library for the rest of lunch to study. Besides, he likes getting some work done while everyone else is doing...whatever it is other people do at lunch. Sitting alone for those fifteen minutes or so in the cafeteria isn't all that bad - sometimes a teacher like Mr Hegarty stops by to talk to him. 

The bell rings and everyone gets up. Barry feels a hand grab his arm, and looks up to see Hal. "C'mon, let's get there fast." 

By some miracle, they get there at a reasonable time, and Hal slides into a seat in the second last row of the math classroom. However, before Barry can sit next to him, Amanda claims the seat. Hal gives him an apologetic look, and Barry ends up sitting between Micheal and Daphne in the second row, which isn't too bad. 

"Barry?" 

To his surprise, Micheal is talking to him. "Uh, yeah?"

"I've been told to ask if Hal's single."

"Oh." He can't help the way his heart drops in his chest. "He told me he doesn't really do girlfriends."

Micheal tilts his head thoughtfully. "Well, there's going to be a couple people disappointed to hear that."

He doesn't say anything more to him, so Barry goes back to taking out his textbook. It suddenly occurs to him that Hal doesn't have a book, and that they were supposed to share. He glances back and sees Amanda propping up hers for him. Nevermind. 

The teacher arrives, and after the usual protests about getting right into work on the first day back, they get started on some equations. Barry flies through them, finishing earlier than most. He risks a peek at Hal, and sees him doodling something that definitely isn't a math problem. Either he just isn't doing the work, or he finished early like Barry did. He can't be sure. 

Hal comes up to him again at the end of class to ask for directions to a certain room, where he's got a workshop class. Barry isn't heading that way, but offers to take him there. 

"How did you find the equations?"

"Easy enough." As they walk, Hal swings his bag around to the front and pulls out his grid paper notebook. He flicks to the second page and holds it up to Barry.

"I drew an f-14 Tomcat." 

Underneath the completed (and correctly answered) problems is a pretty decent drawing of some fighter jet. Barry isn't sure what an f-14 is supposed to look like, but it looks right to him. 

"That's really good." 

Hal's chest puffs out a little. "Thank you."

He shoves the notebook into his bag again and they turn onto the crowded stairway. 

"What else can you draw?" Barry asks as he leads the way up the steps. 

"A couple of other models."

"Of jets?"

"Yeah. That's it."

"Oh." Barry feels himself smile involuntarily at how on-brand that seems. 

"Well, actually, I can draw a pretty good dick too." Hal adds, and Barry can't help but laugh at that, as crude as it is. Also on-brand.

"Have you ever tried drawing The Enterprise?" He asks as they reach the third floor. 

"Ohh. That's a good idea. I should try that." 

He shows Hal to the door of his class, and once he's inside Barry starts a mad dash to his own class, dodging people and making hasty apologies. The diversion makes him late for his, which isn't ideal, but not the end of the world considering his reputation. Honestly, teachers would hate him if he didn't get such good grades. 

After that class (which was AP chemistry) they have break time. They locate Hal's locker, which is in a block of spare ones, nowhere near Barry's. Logically, he knew they wouldn't have had lockers close together anyway given the alphabetical order of their names, but he still finds that he's disappointed about it. 

There's two more classes and then it's lunch. They don't have a class together before lunch, so Barry goes looking for Hal with the intention of leading him to the cafeteria.

He finds Hal walking down the hallway with a collection of girls, all of them laughing. Barry stops walking. He wonders if he should interrupt, expecting he'd be on the receiving end of a few glares. They'll be able to show Hal the way. 

Hal looks up and grins, making eye contact with him as he approaches. "You coming to the cafeteria?"

Barry hesitates. "I...I think I might spend lunch in the library." 

"What? C'mon, surely you don't have any homework to do yet." Hal breaks away from the group and throws an arm around Barry, which forces him to start walking again. "We're going to the cafeteria. Where is it?"

"It's uh, this way." He points.

"Awesome."

A part of Barry had been expecting Hal to lose interest in him - especially with all of the attention he's getting from other people - and he's shocked it hasn't happened yet.

They get to the cafeteria, and while they get their food, Hal surveys the room full of tables and students.

"So where do you usually sit?"

Hal's already well aware of Barry's social status by now, so he's frank with him. "By myself. But Daphne asked me to sit with her today."

"Why don't you sit with her all the time?" Hal asks, sliding his tray along.

"The others don't want me there."

"So?"

"...So?"

"Fuck them, that's their problem, don't make it yours. Sit with Daphne."

The way he says it makes it seem so easy. He doesn't understand how Hal can just insert himself into a group and immediately know what to say to make people like him. Hal offers him a reassuring smile, like he believes in him.

Although he still feels nervous and awkward about the whole thing, Barry nods, and they make their way towards Daphne's table. The drama club people and a few others are there, as well as Amanda, who sits on Daphne's left. She pats the space to the right of her, urging Barry to sit down. 

He awkwardly steps over the bench and puts his tray on the table, making only the briefest of eye contact with the others. Hal smoothly slides in beside him with a million-watt smile. 

"Looks like we're late again, huh?" 

"The tardiness seems to be contagious." Amanda comments, causing a bout of giggles to erupt at the table. Daphne shoots her a look that Barry can't see from this angle. She turns back again. 

"How are you finding things so far, Hal?" 

"High school is high school no matter where you are, I've discovered. Though I don't think I've had to say the Pledge of Allegiance since middle school."

"Why not?" Aaron asks. 

Hal shrugs. "Our teachers just don't bother with it anymore."

"Maybe they're communists." 

Barry instinctually freezes at the sound of Lance's voice behind him. The others look up. He keeps his head down.

"What, not saying the Pledge makes you a commie?" Lori asks, raising an eyebrow. 

"Yeah, it does." 

"Nah, I think my teachers were just lazy." Hal says. 

Barry's pretty sure there's a bit more to being a communist than not saying the Pledge, but he can't be sure of the criteria given his lack of access to the writings of Karl Marx. Nobody really seems to know what a communist is, they just like labelling anyone they find 'other' as such. Barry doesn't think he's a communist. 

"You wanna join us Hal?" Lance asks, bending down and leaning on the table between Hal and Barry. He makes a point of elbowing Barry in the head. "Chris got his hands on his brother's mags if you wanna take a look."

Several of the girls look disgusted at this suggestion, and Hal declines. 

"Maybe tomorrow. I'm good here." 

It's a dismissal, but not a complete no, which seems to satisfy Lance. He uses Barry's neck as something to balance him as he stands up straight again. "Alright then."

He leaves, and Barry's relieved that was all Lance decided to do. 

Hal whispers in his ear. "What an asshole."

"Hal, the others were telling me you know Tom Cruise." Amanda asks, leaning over the table so she can see him better.

Hal repeats his fake story about the actor signing his surfboard, which leads on to another conversation about surfing. Barry quietly eats, and tunes out a little, not all that interested. He wonders how Hal looks when he's surfing. Does he wear trunks or a wetsuit? 

For heaven's sake, he's right next to you Barry, get your head out of the gutter. Normally he's not this bad. Maybe it's because of that brief flash he got this morning. Oh no. Don't start thinking about that.

He tries to tune into the conversation again, and finds everyone is now talking about the upcoming MTV Music Awards on the 6th September. According to Tamara, Michael Jackson has gotten nine nominations, and several people at the table are vouching for Madonna's controversial 'Like a Prayer' , or 'Express Yourself' music video to win something. 

"What do you think, Barry?"

He freezes at the sound of his name. Hal is looking at him expectantly, and so is everyone else, though a few of them look like they're trying not to laugh.

Barry has opinions on many things, which he often keeps to himself because few people give a damn what he has to say, but he doesn't think he has an opinion on this. He's not sure when he last turned on MTV. He hasn't even seen the videos they're talking about. 

"Huh?"

"Express Yourself or Like a Prayer? Which video did you prefer?" Daphne asks. 

"I uh...Express Yourself?" 

Lori starts giggling, and soon the others join in. Barry has no idea why. Did he answer wrong? Does everyone prefer 'Like a Prayer?'

"Bet you liked all those shirtless guys in it, Allen." Aaron comments, causing half the table to lose it. Oh. Barry's thinking he should probably watch more MTV. 

"Madonna was hella bodacious in it." Hal swoops in, stealing the attention from Barry in a way he's very grateful for. "Though I've gotta say I preferred Like A Prayer because people were so butthurt by it."

"Yeah, the Pope totally hated it." Dana says. "So did my parents." 

"I thought it was cool of Madonna to address some racial issues. Even if it was in a kinda creepy Catholic way." Tamara adds. 

Barry goes back to trying to be invisible, glad the conversation has moved away from jokes about his sexuality. He's worried what Hal thought of it, but he didn't laugh or make any further comment. In fact, he seemed to steer the conversation away from the topic.

Hal whispers, "You didn't see either video, did you?"

"I don't watch much MTV." Barry quietly admits. 

"Well, I do, so you'll be seeing a lot more of it."  

Lunch finally ends, and Barry and Hal leave the cafeteria together, but Hal is quickly dragged away from him by Amanda, who has Spanish with him. They arrange to meet up later at reception.

Barry runs up there after his AP Biology class, to find Hal already waiting for him, chatting to some guy Barry doesn't know. He waves him over and the other boy leaves. Someone must have given Hal some gum, because he's clearly chewing something. Probably better than the pencils he's been gnawing on all day. 

"Okay, great news, we're going to a party at Amanda's on Friday night." Hal informs him, throwing an arm over Barry's shoulders again as they walk to the Physics lab.

"What?" 

"Yeah, I know, she's kind of a bitch, but I think it'll be fun."

"Hal...what makes you think Amanda would even want me in her house?"

The party must have been planned before they sat down for lunch, it had to have been, but nobody had mentioned it. Barry knows there's a reason Amanda waited to invite Hal until he was on his own. She doesn't want a loser like Barry present. 

"Well I'll just tell her I can't go anywhere without you. Which is true. I think she likes me, so she'll have to deal."

He thinks? Barry thinks Amanda more than likes him. "Okay…what makes you think I want to go?" 

"But...it's a house party?" Hal says, dumbstruck.

"I've never been to one."

"Well then, how do you know you don't want to go? Look at it as...an experiment!" 

Barry sighs. If it makes Hal happy, maybe he can try one house party. As long as Darryl allows it, of course. Such parties usually involve a lot of underage drinking and noise complaints from neighbours. Some guy on their street threw a rager a few years back and his parents sent him to military school as punishment. The gathering at the lake was pretty mild compared to that. 

"Alright. If we're allowed to go."

"And if not, we'll just sneak out." 

Hal throws his head back with laughter at Barry's reaction to that. "Oh dude, your face! I'm just kidding, Bar."

They arrive in physics class and Barry grabs a front row seat. Hal hesitates for a moment before sitting in the stool next to him. 

"You don't mind being at the front of the class?"

Hal shrugs, overplaying his nonchalance now. "I like physics. But not in a nerdy way. Gotta know about aerodynamics and shit to fly a jet." 

Barry chuckles. "You know this is AP physics right? There's only eight people in this class, and you're one of them."

"Okay, I'm in AP physics. Doesn't make me a nerd. I like sports, I get laid, and I get invited to parties on my first day. I'm a very well-rounded individual."

"So I'm not well-rounded? I'm just a nerd?"

"Not necessarily. How good are you at English?" Hal inquires, completely out of the left field as far as Barry is concerned. 

"I...what?"

"You can't be good at math and science and be good at English. It's one or the other." Hal states, like it's an irrefutable fact.

"I get decent grades in English class." He does. Barry likes reading. Even if most of it is science fiction or comic books. He's just not great at expressing himself with words. 

"Not A-pluses, I bet. It's okay. I'm shit at English too." 

"I'm not...bad at English." Barry protests. Hal chuckles and shakes his head. 

Their physics teacher, an Irishman in his early sixties, suddenly bursts through the door. "Sorry I'm late, lads."

He drops his bag onto the counter at the top of the room, then freezes. His index finger sticks up in a cartoonish fashion. "Oh! I almost forgot the kettle. I'll be right back, folks." 

He dashes out the door again, running like someone's threatening his rear end with a hot poker. 

"Mr Hegarty." Barry tells Hal. "He's my favourite teacher."

He returns a minute later with a kettle in hand and immediately starts setting it up on a hotplate. He pulls a bunch of mugs out of a cupboard.

"Alright, who's for tea?"

A couple of people put their hands up, including Barry.

"Lovely." He takes out a box of tea bags. "How was everyone's summer?" 

There's a general sound of 'good' and 'fine' from the class. 

"Good, good. Do I know all of you already?" He asks, while the kettle heats up, blue eyes scanning the class. They land on Hal in the front row. "Oh, I don't think I know you. What's your name?"

"Hal Jordan."

"Hal Jordan..." He repeats thoughtfully. "...Your mother isn't Michelle Jordan, is she?"

Hal's confused expression is unfairly adorable. "Uh, no. My mom's name is Jessica."

"He's from California, Mr Hegarty." One of the other students chimes in. 

"Ohhh, I see. You're a blow in. Whereabouts in California are you from?"

Hal, unused to Hegarty, clearly wasn't prepared for an interrogation on his family history. If any other teacher asked where you lived it would be weird and creepy, but when Mr Hegarty does it it's just one of his cultural mannerisms.

"Coast City."

"Oh yes, I've got a cousin living out there. He's in the hotel business. Frankie Hegarty, in Presidio. You don't know him by any chance?"

"Uh...no?"

"Lovely beaches out there. God, I do miss being near a beach. Did you move here over the summer?"

"No. I'm just staying with Barry for a few months." Hal says, pointing a thumb at him. 

"Ah! No better man." Hegarty says, sending an approving smile in Barry's direction. The kettle starts whistling and the teacher turns to attend to it. 

Hal mouths what looks like 'what the fuck?' to Barry, who just shrugs in reply.

Hegarty proceeds to ask how strong people like their tea and passes out the mugs. He places an old NASA mug in front of Barry and pours out the tea for him.

While the teacher is pouring tea for someone further back in the room, Hal leans over and whispers. "Not that I mind doing nothing, but does this guy do any actual teaching?"

"He's very good when he gets into it. He just distracts easily." Barry tells him. People often take advantage of it, especially when there's a test scheduled that they're not ready for. It wouldn't be high school without some good old teacher-manipulation.

Once all the tea is served, Mr Hegarty instructs everyone to take out their textbooks, and class begins in earnest. Out of his three AP classes, Barry admittedly finds physics the hardest. His true love is chemistry, followed by biology. They're the most important for his chosen field of study, but physics is pretty useful too. Anything to improve his college prospects. 

He glances over at Hal every once and a while to see how he's doing. He never expected the guy who's planning on dropping out to be in an AP course. Maybe he wants to join the Air Force as soon as possible, but still have an impressive application. Why so soon though? Why not wait a few extra months and graduate, rather than getting a GED?

The feeling that Hal isn't telling him something is niggling him again, and once again Barry reminds himself that he's not being entirely open either. He's in no place to ask. 

They're sharing Barry's book, and Hal has moved his stool right up next to his so he can see it properly. He's still chewing the gum, subtly enough that Mr Hegarty won't notice from where he's standing by the chalkboard, but Barry is a lot closer, and he can't help but admire the movement's in Hal's jaw. 

He catches himself getting distracted. No. He needs to pay attention. 

Daydreaming has always been a problem for him. On every single report card his parents, and then Darryl, ever recieved, teachers have made note of it. It's really only become a problem in the last few years as the work has gotten harder. When he was younger he could let himself daydream because he found the work too easy. He really can't afford to not pay attention in AP physics.

But his mind tends to wander when it finds something more interesting to focus on. And right now Hal's jawline is looking very interesting. 

Hal suddenly turns his head to him, and Barry drops his, hoping Hal didn't catch him staring. 

Physics is their last class, and after a quick stop by each of their lockers, the boys walk out to catch the bus home. On the way down the front steps Barry feels someone push him from behind, and he falls forward. Before he can crack his skull open on the concrete, Hal catches him.

"Woah, better watch where you're stepping dude."

"Someone pushed me." Barry says as Hal helps him right himself. "Thanks."

"Pushed you? I was a step behind you, I would have seen them if they did." 

"But I felt…" Sure, he's clumsy, sometimes he falls and that's on him, but other times he distinctly feels someone pushing him, and when he turns around there's no-one there. When he was twelve he broke his arm because of a similar incident.

Barry doesn't believe in luck - it's illogical - but if he did he could certainly call himself unlucky. As well as the random invisible pushes, he frequently encounters little misfortunes, seemingly far more than his peers. He'll often trip over laces that were tied a minute ago, or the heat on the stove will turn up when he's not looking, and his lunch will burn. 

Did Hal push him this time? He wouldn't, would he? No. Hal's been nothing but nice to him all day.

"C'mon, I don't want to sit in the front of the bus again." Hal says, urging him forward.

They manage to get the back seat this time, and it's a strange experience. Not once in his life has Barry sat in the back of a school bus. He's never had the option. 

The two of them get off at their stop and they pick up some candy at the corner store to celebrate the end of their first day. He hasn't done something like that with someone since elementary school. 

"Didn't take you for a cannibal." Hal jokes, pointing at Barry's box of Rainbow Nerds. 

"I didn't realise you liked jewellery." Barry replies, as Hal bites at his candy necklace. 

"I had to leave my jewellery box at home, it didn't fit in my suitcase."

They both laugh. Barry finds he really likes having some company on the walk home. It was nice having company almost all day, in fact. Even if he felt a bit left out at times, it was far less than usual. Is this what other people have all the time? 

Chapter Text

Tuesday is much the same as Monday, except they have Gym class. Barry gets his ass handed to him in dodgeball and afterwards he hides in the bathroom until he thinks everyone is finished changing. When he comes out, Hal is still there, waiting for him on a bench in the locker room. He's already changed out of his gym clothes and is wearing a Coast City Angels baseball t-shirt.

"Dude, where were you?" 

"I didn't think you'd wait for me." Barry says quietly, embarrassed to be caught.

"Were you hiding?"

"No." 

"Well c'mon, we'll be late for class."

Reluctantly, Barry grabs his gym bag and ducks behind a row of lockers. He unzips the bag and starts to change back into his regular clothes. Jeans and a blue Back to the Future t-shirt.

"Y'know we literally live together. Seeing each other half naked is inevitable." Hal reminds him. Every single morning and evening since Hal got here, Barry has been getting changed in the bathroom. 

"I'd rather not." Well, that's not entirely true. He wouldn't mind seeing more of Hal. At all. But the reverse? Less appealing.

"Have you got a secret tattoo on your ass or something?"

"No. I just...like my privacy. Not everyone is as comfortable with themselves as you are."

Hal is quiet for a moment.

"I think that's a shame." He finally says, but not once does he walk around the lockers. He waits for him, and just as predicted, they are late for their next class. In that class, Hal proudly turns his calculator upside down to reveal he's spelled 'BOOBS' on it, and while it's stupidly immature, Barry doesn't like him any less for it. 

On Wednesday, Barry discovers Hal is incredibly talented at making paper planes. One of them gets caught in Mrs Kershaw's hair during homeroom and she doesn't notice it. Everyone is quiet, but eventually someone cracks and snorts, causing everyone else to burst into laughter. The poor woman looks at the class in confusion and demands to know what's so funny, but nobody tells her. People come up to Hal in the hallway afterwards and clap him on the back, saying well done and that was gnarly dude!

Barry would usually disapprove of such behaviour, but it was quite funny, and he was impressed by how well the plane flew. At lunch they sit outside on the bleachers by themselves, as the drama club is having an Important Meeting. Lance and the others are nowhere to be seen, and Barry can only assume they've snuck off the grounds. It wouldn't be the first time.

Hal gives Barry the rundown on how to make different kinds of paper planes. Ones for speed, distance and accuracy. He explains the physics behind them too, and Barry listens attentively, finding it even more charming than Hal's actual charm. 

In return, Barry tries to show him how to solve a Rubix cube, but it's clear it will take a lot of work. Hal seems more willing to learn than he was on Monday though, and throughout the rest of the day he takes it out of Barry's bag to fiddle with it. 

He suggests Hal show his paper aircraft to Mr Hegarty, who also very much approves of them, although he already saw one when Mrs Kershaw walked into the staff room earlier that day. He promises not to tell, and they veer off course to spend a class talking about aerodynamics. Hal is utterly absorbed by it, and even occasionally contributes some interesting points. 

Daphne catches them in the hallway and excitedly tells them that their December musical is going to be Grease . It's one of her favourites. 

"Yknow, you should audition! I think you'd make a great Danny, Hal." Daphne says, putting her hand on his arm as they walk. Barry hasn't seen the film in years, but Hal does have a certain swagger to him. Barry wonders if he can sing. He doesn't know if he could handle Hal being a good singer.

"Or Kenickie. What's that line - A hickey from Kenickie is like a Hallmark card. " Tori adds with a giggle. 

Some girl Barry doesn't know had arrived into class after break time that morning with a massive hickey on her neck, and a rumour had quickly started that Hal was the responsible party. Barry hadn't seen Hal around that time, as they had parted ways to go to their respective lockers, and when he asked about it Hal had just shrugged, neither confirming nor denying it. 

Hal had made it quite clear that he was not a virgin, but beyond that Barry's not sure how experienced he actually is. That event he described might have been his one and only sexual encounter, or it could have been one of many. Hal must have figured that bragging to Barry about sexual exploits wasn't going to earn him many brownie points, because the topic hasn't come up since Sunday. Or maybe he's waiting for Barry to ask? Does he want to ask? He's not sure. 

Hal puts his hands up now and shakes his head. "Oh no. I don't do musical theatre."

"You're dramatic enough for it." Barry remarks. Hal throws his head back and laughs. 

"Hey, where did that attitude come from? Y'know, I think I'm starting to be a bad influence on you." 

The others laugh at that, and he's not sure if it's good or bad. People still clearly don't like Barry, but they seem to be slowly accepting that he and Hal are a package deal. And while sometimes Barry feels like an awkward duck trailing around after him, them being a duo is a nice thought. Maybe things will change after the first week, when Hal figures out his way around and gets to know other people better. But even if that happens, they can still hang out at home. 

Barry hopes they can, anyway. They do their homework together at the kitchen table, listen to music and watch tv. He's now seen both the Madonna videos people were talking about, and finds that he does indeed appreciate the shirtless guys (as well as Madonna herself in a very nice pinstripe suit) in Express Yourself . He feels bad about it though, and hates that they were right. 

That afternoon, Barry visits his dad. He sees him once every two weeks, and the visits are usually two hours long. He wishes it was more.

Barry shifts in his chair, drumming his fingers on his legs while he waits. Finally, he sees the door beyond the glass open, and Henry Allen is led through by a guard. He's wearing the standard orange jumpsuit, like always. His face lights up when he sees his son, and Barry thinks his own face probably does too.

His dad has blue eyes like himself, but brown hair. He's started greying slightly at the temples, and the crows feet have become more defined over the years. People often used to argue who he looked most like, though usually decided he looked like his mom with his blond hair.

Henry takes a seat on the other side of the glass and they give each other a smile before picking up the phones. 

"Hi dad." 

"Hey kiddo." He narrows his eyes. "Have you gotten taller since last time?"

"I don't know." Barry says. He had started growing only over the last year or so, later than most of the other boys. Last he checked he was 5'9", which is just slightly below average. Daphne informed him that he's taller than Tom Cruise, who is 5'8". It was a slight confidence boost.

"I reckon you're about my height now. Seems like only yesterday you were waist high." His dad says, sounding fond, but also a little sad. Once upon a time they had been marking Barry's slow progress on the kitchen door frame, but of course that all stopped. 

"You're back at school now?"

"Yeah."

"Senior year. How about that?" Henry shakes his head. Next thing they know Barry will graduate, and he'll come in here to show him a diploma. His dad won't be able to see him walk across the stage in person.

"I've got some news." Barry says, and his dad's eyebrow raises in interest.

"News? I'm all ears."

"Remember when I said we might have a student coming to stay with us?"

Henry nods. "Some kid from California, right? You didn't seem too pleased about it."

"Yeah. Well, he's here. His name is Hal Jordan." Barry tells him, and he can't help the smile that breaks out on his face when he says his name. 

"And? What's he like?"

"He's...he's really nice. Nicer than I expected. And funny. He's in my AP physics class, and he's really good at making paper planes. Oh, and he likes Star Trek."

Henry chuckles, used to Barry vomiting information whenever he visits. "Does he now? Who's his favourite character?"

"Kirk."

"Basic choice, but not bad." his dad says with a huff. He always liked Bones best, him being a doctor and all. He's missed most of the movies in the last decade or so, and Barry has kept him up to date with detailed retellings. Most recently he recounted The Final Frontier for him.

"He is a bit like Kirk. Kind of charming. He's already popular with the girls." 

Henry laughs at that. "And you're not?"

Barry feels himself blush. "No."

"Well, just you wait til you're earning big bucks, inventing new chemical formulas or medicines. Money isn't everything of course, but it helps."

"Maybe in my free time." Barry says with a shrug. His dad is trying to nudge him towards research or pharmaceuticals rather than forensics. He even suggested medical school a few times, saying he'd be bright enough for it. 

Henry doesn't look entirely pleased by the implications of his response, but lets it slide. They both do. They've had too many arguments about it, and while Barry isn't a very stubborn person, being a forensic scientist is one thing he won't budge on. 

"Well, what's Hal planning to do after school?"

"He wants to drop out as soon as he turns eighteen, so he can join the Air Force." 

"Not the academic type? I thought you said he was taking AP Physics?"

"Not academic like me. But he is smart. He wants to be a pilot. They don't let just anyone be pilots."

"True. So it's worked out? You don't mind having him around?"

"Yeah. I really like having him around."

"Well, I'm glad you and Hal are getting along. It's good for you to have another guy to hang out with." 

Barry hasn't had any proper guy friends since elementary school, back when kids were less judgy and he still had both parents. He knows it's something his dad often worries about.

"Yeah. It's really nice."

"How's Daphne?" He always inquires. Barry wonders if he's expecting some kind of romantic development, but he's probably just asking because until now Barry hasn't had any other friends to ask about.

"She's good. They're going to perform Grease in school. She wants to be Sandy."

"Well, if her elementary school performances are anything to go by she'll get the part no problem. Olivia Newton-John who?"

Barry chuckles. Daphne almost always got the main roles when they were kids. Now that she's a senior, she's practically guaranteed it. Barry, if he was on the stage at all, was usually a bush or a tree stump that had no speaking role (not that that stopped his mom from taking lots of pictures of him in costume). He's never wanted to be the centre of attention, and she's always been the star. Everyone else is just planets orbiting her. 

"What about Darryl?" his dad asks, in that weird tone he always has when talking about him. Barry knows it must be hard, having someone else looking after your kid. 

"The same. He's trying to convince Hal to take up one of the sports in school. I think he just wants to go to the games. He doesn't get opportunities from me." 

"You're good at other things. 

"Yeah, I guess." 

"Speaking of, how's that science project coming along?"

Hal is left alone in the house when Barry goes to visit his dad. It's the first bit of real privacy he's had since last Friday night, so obviously the first thing he does is jerk off. 

After a nice session, he cleans up. He then ponders doing his homework. He hasn't got much, but doesn't particularly feel like doing any of it right now. 

He pokes around Barry's room - he doesn't feel like he can call it their room yet - and takes a more thorough look at things. Compared to his own room, there's a lot more stuff. When he was younger and his dad was still in the Air Force, they moved around quite a lot, and old toys and books often went missing. Barry, on the other hand, is definitely a collector. 

He's got a lot more comics than Hal previously thought. He must have entire year-spanning runs. Some old stuff too. He's also got a few models of various Star Trek ships hanging from the ceiling, the gem of the collection being the Enterprise herself. He really needs to try drawing it some time.

Barry's got several science books that definitely seem to be college level stuff, as well as a lot of sci-fi novels. He finds a stack of books on the floor that were from the library, and past their return date by quite a bit. Being late is definitely Barry's brand. They've been late for the bus every single morning so far, despite Hal's efforts to hurry him along in the morning. Drill sergeants would eat him alive. 

He finds a little box under the wardrobe with a blue clip-on bow tie in it. He tries it on, even though it looks ridiculous with his t-shirt, and he laughs at himself in the bathroom mirror. He wonders if Barry actually wears it. 

There's several certificates and awards hanging on the blue walls, and a shelf with science fair trophies and blue ribbons. Barry had shown him his science project yesterday evening, which consists of potted plants out on the back porch which he measures every day at the exact same time. The ones with his special chemical soil mixture thing are taller and healthier than the ones without it, so he must be doing something right. 

Hal has a look at Barry's music collection. There's a few cassette tapes, including Elton John and Billy Joel. He finds the Dirty Dancing soundtrack, which is...interesting. There's also a number of records, mostly jazz. He wasn't kidding about liking it, then. Hal figures most of the records probably belonged to his parents. Records aren't completely out yet, but most kids their age buy cassettes instead. He sticks one of the cassettes into his Walkman - Franki Valli and the Four Seasons. He remembers Barry played one of their songs in the diner. 

Hal eventually sits down at Barry's desk and decides to write a letter to Jim like he said he would. He's about to use the paper he got on Sunday when he spots a notebook Barry has, with the Starfleet insignia and the words 'Captain's Log' printed at the top of each page. He figures Barry won't mind too much if he uses it, and Jim will definitely get a kick out of it. His little brother is very proud of his namesake, Captain Jim Kirk.

He writes about his new school and tells Jim about Barry, emphasising their shared interest in Star Trek and his obliviousness to Daphne's crush on him. He asks how Jim is finding 7th grade so far. He asks how their mom is, but requests that Jim not tell her he asked. He's still mad at her. 

Once he's finished he folds it up, sticks it into an envelope and seals it with a swipe of his tongue. He prints their address in block letters and puts a stamp (featuring a picture of a dinosaur) on the corner, pausing briefly as he tries to remember which side it goes. 

He takes out his own paper then, and another envelope. Along with Jim, there's one other person he plans on writing to. One letter at least. 

Summer, 1988

Hal had been out cruising one evening. He was sixteen at the time, and still very much fumbling his way around the new world he had recently discovered. It was almost dark, and he'd been talking to some guy, hoping to get lucky. He'd seemed pretty receptive to Hal's prepositions, and Hal was sure he'd be getting off pretty soon. 

He had been about to get in this guy's car, when another man had approached and put his hand on Hal's shoulder. 

"Ah, there you are! I've been looking all over for you. Come along." He'd said, turning Hal around and leading him away, back towards the streetlights. He was confused, and more than a little miffed about being cockblocked. The guy he had just been talking to seemed pissed when he looked back at him. Hal was just about to ask what this man's damage was when he whispered into his ear.

"Trust me darling, I'm doing you a favour, you don't want to get caught up with him ."

Hal shrugged his hand off his shoulder. "I'll get 'caught up' with whoever I damn please."

The man looked about forty-five or so. Even though technically everyone was too old for him, this guy was definitely too old. He was a couple of inches shorter than Hal. Neat brown hair, but greying at the temples. A well-kept moustache. A bit like Freddie Mercury circa Live Aid, without all the teeth. He was wearing a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, tucked into white shorts. One of the 'older queens.' He quietly looked up at Hal with a condescending closed-mouth smile for a second, resting his chin on his hand. 

"How old are you, honey?" 

"Nineteen." Hal said. He'd always looked old for his age, or thought he did anyway. Whenever someone actually cared to ask how old he was he always said nineteen instead of eighteen, because he figured people might be more likely to believe him.

The man had laughed at him. Hal frowned, quickly losing his patience. 

"And you expect me to believe that?"

"What are you, a cop?"

"More of a concerned citizen. You're obviously new around here, so you haven't heard about how Randy back there chews up and spits out boys like you."

"What do you mean chews them up ?" Hal asked, glancing back at the other guy, Randy, apparently. He was lighting up a cigarette and giving them both a dirty look, like it wasn't the first time this has happened to him.

The older man's expression darkened.  "I think you know exactly what I mean."

Hal slowly nodded, feeling a bit sick. "...Thanks for the heads up."

"Oscar Rodwell." The man said, holding his hand out to him. Hal looked at it sceptically for a moment. He didn't think people did names around here. Not real ones anyway. He decided to shake it. 

"Hal."

"Alright, Hal. I'm going to ask again how old you are, and you're going to tell me the truth."

"Eighteen."

Oscar raised an eyebrow at him. Hal glanced off to the side. "Sixteen."

" Good god ." Oscar whispered to himself. "Have you gotten yourself tested recently?" 

"Tested?" Hal knew what he meant. But he didn't want to say it.

"For AIDs, darling." 

That had been a punch to the stomach. It was the first time he'd really had to admit to himself that he was at risk. 

"No." 

"Alright, tell you what." He said, gesturing with his hand. There was a gold band on his ring finger, which confused Hal, because there was no way in hell this guy had a wife. "You and I are going to go to the clinic tomorrow evening. I'm committed to my Michael, but one can never be too careful. We'll tell them that you're eighteen, and get you tested. I know it's frightening, but it has to be done, and the sooner the better. You won't have to go in there on your own."

Hal was dumbstruck. "You're not going to tell me to go home? Or stop coming here?"

"I wasn't born yesterday, darling. I know I can't tell you to stop. I would love to, but we both know that isn't going to happen. You've found this world, and you can't unfind it. The best I can do is to try to keep you safe." 

"Why do you care?" Hal quietly asked.

"Because somebody has to. I don't want to see boys like you make the same mistakes I did." 

Oscar took out a small notebook and a pen. He scribbled an address and a time on it, told Hal to call it a night, and said he hoped to see him there tomorrow.

That was how he had met Oscar. 

Hal had hummed and hawed over whether or not he was going to go. In the end, he figured it would be cowardly not to, and a coward he is not. So, Hal showed up to the clinic the next day, and as promised, Oscar had vouched for him. Hal got tested, and received an appointment for his results. They came back negative a few weeks later, to great relief. Oscar made him promise to get tested regularly if he was going to continue looking for hookups, which Hal figured was a fair deal. 

After that, Oscar became something of a gay mentor for him. Maybe it's a bit weird - okay, it is weird - to be friends with someone who's over twice your age, but not once did Oscar try to get in his pants or take advantage of him, like a few other men had. Hal had almost expected him to, and was surprised when he didn't. Oscar looked out for him and did his best to steer him out of trouble (though unfortunately he hadn't been around the night Hal first met Brett). 

Oscar even invited him to his birthday party last October, and introduced him to his partner, Micheal, who he referred to as his 'illegal husband.' That explained the wedding band. His friends consisted of older gay men and a few lesbians who were all either partnered up or 'widowed' - they didn't talk about why, but Hal could make a good guess. They referred to him as Oscar's baby gay , which Hal hadn't taken too kindly to at first. The camp atmosphere had initially made him feel uncomfortable. Everyone was just so unapologetically gay , so out and proud, calling each other ladies and queens . His internalised homophobia had shunned it. I'm queer, but not that kind of queer. 

He got more used to it as the night went on. They had started regaling him with stories from the sixties and seventies, of the hilarious ways they had avoided drafts and arrests, and Hal couldn't help but laugh along with them. He started to see the gay community in a new light. It was an actual community with far more to it than just shady hookups with strangers. They told him about the pride parades in San Francisco and New York, and about the Greenwich Village Stonewall riots that took place a few years before he was born.

He might have had more fun at this old gay guy's birthday party than he'd had at any high school party, and be didn't even get laid. 

When he told them he was joining the Air Force, some laughed, some looked confused, and others were sympathetic. 

"Oh sweetheart, why would you do that to yourself?" One guy, Frank, had asked, right after taking a puff from a cigarette.

"I dunno Bob, I heard those military boys have a lot more fun than the government would like us to think." Michael added, and there had been another round of laughter. They wished him good luck. 

Hal's not entirely sure if his mom would kick him out if she discovered he likes guys. But it's nice to know that if she ever did, Oscar would help him. Hal hadn't gotten the chance to say goodbye to him before he left, and while Oscar is used to not seeing Hal every week, he'll eventually start to wonder where he is. It's not terribly uncommon for guys like them to just disappear. 

Hal doesn't want him to worry. So he'll write him a letter. Let him know where he is and tell him he's doing okay. Oscar has lost enough friends already. 

He's just signed off the letter when he hears the front door open, and he quickly puts it into the envelope. Barry comes upstairs a few minutes later and freezes in the doorway when he sees Hal sitting at the desk, like he'd forgotten Hal was here. 

He turns off his Walkman in the middle of ' December 1963 (Oh What A Night)' and takes off the headphones . "I wrote a letter to my little brother. Used some of your Star Trek paper. Hope you don't mind."

Barry shakes his head and dumps his bag on the floor. "That's okay. Is he a fan?"

"Yeah. I always take him to see the movies." 

Barry sits on his bed and starts undoing the laces on his sneakers. He's curious about the visit, but last time he asked Barry about his parents he was shut down pretty quick. A different line of questioning is in order.

"Uh, how is your dad?"

The blond pauses, like he wasn't expecting Hal to ask. Then he resumes taking off his shoes. "He's fine. He was just asking me about school." 

"You mention me?" 

"Well...you're living with me, I couldn't not mention you." Barry says nervously, as if he's not sure how Hal will react to that. "All good things."

Hal nods. "Obviously. How often do you get to visit him?"

"Twice a month."

"That sucks." He says. "Do you miss him?"

Barry is quiet for a moment, staring down at the shoes he just took off. He looks sad. "Yeah. I miss him a lot."

After a moment, he lies down on his bed, grabbing his Rubix cube from his bedside table. Hal assumes that's the end of this conversation, and that Barry has closed up again. Fair enough. He turns and writes Oscar's address on the envelope, attaching another dinosaur stamp.

"People don't usually ask me about him. Just my mom." Barry says after a minute or two. Hal turns back around, leaning an arm on the back of the chair. The cube is solved again.

"They think you shouldn't miss him?"

"Yeah. But they don't really know him."

"What's he like?"

Barry smiles, and Hal wonders if the same question was asked about him earlier. "His name is Henry Allen. He was a doctor. A good one. We used to go to Susie's every Sunday and share a plate of waffles. And we used to watch Star Trek together. His favourite character was Dr McCoy. I have to tell him about the movies now because he can't go to see them."

"Sounds like a cool guy." Hal doubts Barry ever gets the chance to talk about his dad like this. 

"What about your dad?"

It's Hal's turn to look at the floor. Barry just shared, and it's only right to return the favour. He takes a deep breath and runs a hand through his hair. His eyes wander towards his jacket, hung on a hook by the door. The golden evening light coming through the window highlights it. Barry follows his gaze.

"Well...remember how I said my mom is like...super against me being a pilot? And doesn't want me going to any airfields?"

"Yeah?"

"It's uh. It's because he crashed. When I was eleven. He died. I was there."

Barry's mouth drops open, and then closes again. He sits up, setting aside the Rubix cube. "I...I'm sorry. I thought he was away on duty, or your parents were divorced or something. I had no idea."

Hal waves his hand, trying to be casual about it. He speaks carefully, determined not to let his voice crack. "Nah. It's okay. I didn't tell you."

He gets up and takes the jacket from the hook. "This was his."

Barry nods. "I thought it might have been. You take good care of it."

Hal shrugs. "Yeah. That's why I kind of flipped out when it went missing at the lake."

He holds it up, looking at the various patches, and the name Jordan on it. To him it's better than any Varsity jacket. 

There's silence between them. Then Barry suddenly lets out an amused huff. "Wow. I want to become a forensic scientist because my mom was murdered, and you want to be a pilot even though your dad died in a crash."

"Well that's morbid." Hal says, surprised at Barry's rather harsh but accurate observation. He laughs a little. "But yeah. Guess we're both pretty fucked up. I know for a fact people back home think I'm nuts for wanting to be like my dad. My mom especially. But I dunno dude...I just wanna fly. I guess that's why I was reluctant to tell you."

"I...I understand. I want to make sure other people get the justice my parents never did. And I want to reopen my mom's case." 

Hal slowly nods. "I guess we have more in common than I thought."

For the first time, Hal feels understood. He's finally found someone who he can laugh about his trauma with, without feeling like a nutjob.

"You said you were there. Can I ask...how much did you see?" Barry carefully inquires.

The images flood his mind. Hal swallows before replying. "Everything. He gave me the jacket right before he got in the jet. Told me to hang onto it for him."

Hal walks over to the bed and kicks off his shoes. "Can I?"

Barry seems surprised for a moment, and then shuffles over so Hal can lie down next to him. There's just barely enough room. They both stare at the ceiling, hands resting on their stomachs.

"I have dreams about it sometimes." Hal confesses. "Well, nightmares. And occasionally something during the day will make me think about it. It used to be a lot worse though."

"PTSD?"

"Dunno. Probably."

"Me too. I didn't see everything, but...I saw a lot. I really don't like blood."

He doesn't get any more specific than that, but the images Hal's mind conjures up are highly unpleasant.

"Forensic scientists see a lot of blood." Hal points out. 

"They do. I'll just have to get over it."

"That's pretty brave of you."

Barry huffs. "Well, I haven't gotten over it yet. Darryl had to write a note excusing me from dissecting animal hearts in biology class last year. Everyone called me a wuss." 

"It was probably gross anyway."

It's starting to get dark now, the light fading from the room, but neither moves to switch on a lamp.

"This is off topic, but I just realised I never warned you about the sleep talking. And walking." Barry says. 

"Oh?" Hal is imagining a very cartoonish picture of Barry wandering around at night with his eyes closed and arms stretched out in front of him. He knows sleepwalking doesn't actually look like that because Jim used to do it when he was little, but the image is still funny.

"I figure I should tell you before it happens. Nobody told Darryl when I first moved in with him and it freaked him out a lot."

"Sleepwalking, okay. When you say sleep talking - is it incomprehensible noises or actual words?"

"Both. Apparently. So uh, if I say anything...weird…"

"Gotcha. Thanks for the heads up." 

They're both quiet for a few moments.

"We should turn the light on." Barry says.

"Yeah." Hal agrees. 

Neither move. Hal doesn't really want to. And not because he still has homework to do. He likes lying here next to Barry. He feels listened to. And he thinks Barry feels the same. 

"You wrote a second letter."

"Yeah. A friend I didn't get the chance to say goodbye to." 

"Oh."

"Thanks for this, by the way. It's nice to talk to someone who gets it."

"Yeah, it is." 

Hal turns his head and Barry does the same. They share a small smile. Darryl calls them then, to let them know dinner is ready, and they both reluctantly get up. 

On Thursday evening, Hal decides to climb out the window. As soon as he puts his foot onto the sill he can feel Barry's now familiar, disapproving eyes on him.

"What are you doing?" He asks, looking up from some notes about his plant measurements at his desk. Hal shrugs.

"Climbing onto the roof of the porch." 

"May I ask...why?" 

"Because I can." Hal says, and continues to maneuver himself out of the bedroom window, which really isn't easy, because he's a pretty big guy. 

"Hal." Barry protests, but he's halfway out, and it's too late. The blond stands up and crosses the room to watch Hal crouch down on the roof.

"This is gnarly." 

"It's dangerous."

"Relax, Bar. I've climbed shit far higher than this. I got on top of an aircraft hanger when I was twelve. And a flag pole."

Barry is silent for a few seconds, probably doing the math and estimating just how high that could be. Hal sits down on the roof. There's a nice view of the sunset over the rows of houses, and the small backyard. 

He turns his head and sees Barry still standing at the window looking out at him and smiles. "Wanna join me?"

"No." 

"C'mon. It's totally safe. The roof isn't even that steep. Measure the angle if you want." 

Barry seems unsure, but after a few seconds he starts to slowly climb out, stopping every so often to figure out the safest way of doing so. Once he has one leg and his torso out Hal offers him a hand. Barry stares at it momentarily before accepting it, and Hal helps him sit next to him.

"There you go. See? Perfectly safe."

Barry still looks skeptical, and hugs his knees, observing the world from this new angle.

"Wish I could do this at home. We live in a bungalow." Hal says. 

"I'm not...very fond of heights." Barry admits, staring down at the lawn in the backyard. It's a bit overgrown, like their own back home, except the grass is less scorched and there's no baseballs or footballs scattered around. His mom doesn't have much time for gardening.

"I'm not very fond of the ground." 

"I can tell."

They're quiet for a minute or so. Hal stretches out his legs and leans back on his elbows, casually reclining while Barry stays still where he is. It gives him a view of the side and back of Barry's head. 

"There's a lot of moss up here." The blond notes. 

"Yeah. Next time we want something we could offer to clean it off."

"I can't believe Darryl said yes to the party."

They had asked earlier - well, Hal had gotten Barry to ask, because he figured he would be more likely to get a yes. Darryl asked if there was going to be alcohol. Hal easily lied and said no, Amanda's parents were going to be home. He was cool with it. 

"I don't want to be hearing anything about it at the station on Monday morning, got it?"

They had both nodded and Hal's amazed Darryl didn't notice Barry's very obvious discomfort with lying. He looked like he was going to shit bricks.

"Were you hoping he'd say no?"

"No. Maybe."

"I know you're nervous about it, but it'll be fine. I'll stick with you most of the night."

"Most of the night?"

"Well," Hal can even hear the smugness in his own voice, "I have every intention of hooking up with someone, but other than that, yeah. And Daphne will be there too."

"Who are you, uh, planning on kissing?" Barry asks, and it sounds so polite and innocent Hal has to laugh. 

"If things go well for me I'll be doing a lot more than kissing . And that's...undecided."

Well, not entirely. He has two people in mind. One, Amanda. He doesn't really like her personality-wise, but she's hot and seems down. He just hopes she's not looking for a boyfriend or anything, because she won't find one in him, that's for sure. 

The second person is Michael. While he hasn't explicitly told Hal that he likes guys, he's made the message as clear as possible to him without saying it. 

For instance, the reference to the volleyball scene in Top Gun. Bunch of sweaty shirtless pilots with Kenny Loggins singing 'Playing With The Boys' in the background? There's nothing heterosexual about liking that scene unless you're a girl, which Hal and Michael are not. 

There's most obviously his membership of the drama club. Stereotypical, yes, but stereotypes are often based in reality, and Hal doesn't subscribe to that stereotype himself, so he knows it isn't universal. He's pretty sure a number of people in the drama club are queer, but none of them are stupid enough to fess up, lest they be treated like people treat Barry.

And lastly, there are all those exchanged looks during class. Queer men, he's learned, are experts when it comes to communicating interest via eye-fucking, strategic glances and once-overs. Most of the time anyway. Shy guys are a little more difficult to figure out, because they can't hold eye contact as well. Michael is decidedly not shy. 

And not bad-looking either. Curly, dirty blond hair and brown eyes. An interesting combination. Like an illustration from that Greek Myths book he had once as a kid, but less jacked. He's not terribly muscular, but Hal doesn't mind. Nice ass, too.

So right now, Michael is the preferred option. There's a third option - Daphne - but she seems far less likely than the other two, mostly because she'd clearly rather have Barry. Unfortunately for her, it seems Barry won't be had any time soon.

He looks at the other boy again, who is resting his chin in his hands and staring out at the setting sun. His hair seems even more golden in the light. At first he wasn't sure why Daphne seemed so enamoured with him, but Barry has a different sort of appeal. Some girls like quiet, sensitive guys. Stability and smarts. The boy next door. 

And as he said before, Barry isn't bad-looking. Still a little baby-faced and skinny, maybe more pretty than handsome. Big blue eyes and light delicate lashes.

"Undecided?" Barry repeats.

"I'll see where the night takes me." 

As for Barry's sexuality? Well it's certainly not jumping out to Hal, despite the jokes about it from others. They don't actually know anything, they're just calling him gay because it's the worst thing they can think of. There's the shy thing, too. Barry can't seem to hold eye contact with anyone for very long. 

The way he reacted to Hal telling him Daphne liked him, and the virginity discussion was interesting, but Barry could just be sexually repressed in general, rather than sexually repressed in a gay way. Maybe it's the good Midwestern boy thing. 

And really, what are the odds they both like guys? Probably pretty slim. Besides, it wouldn't be good to fool around, not when they have to live together. 

"Pretty good view." Hal comments, breaking the silence that has befallen them.

"I can see Daphne's house from here."

"Really? Which one?"

Hal leans closer into his line of sight as Barry points it out, about two streets over. Reasonable walking distance. 

"Pretty lucky you didn't end up too far from each other."

"Yeah." Barry replies, shifting away slightly. Hal returns to his reclined position. 

"You good?"

"I'm fine."

It's clearly bullshit, but Hal doesn't push. Could be just having an off day. Hal gets those from time to time. Or he could be shitting himself because he's afraid of heights. 

Speaking of the roof, Hal wonders how easy it would be to get down from here. He crawls his way towards the edge and looks over. It's really not that far to the ground. If he dropped and rolled immediately…

Hal shimmies his legs over the edge and holds himself up with his hands. 

"Hal!" Barry gasps as he drops himself off the roof. 

He lands in the grass and rolls to break the fall. Hal gets up a moment later and brushes off his jeans. He looks up and sees Barry carefully peering over the edge of the roof, blue eyes wide with shock. 

"Are you crazy?!"

"Yeah. I thought that had been established." Hal says, grinning up at him. "Well. Now I know sneaking out is pretty easy."

"I don't condone that." 

"Course you don't. You think I can climb back up?"

"Please don't."

"Bet you a dollar I can." 

"No."

"Too late." Hal says, already making use of the railings on the porch and the drainpipe. He makes it back up again pretty quickly and triumphantly sits next to Barry once more. 

"You-" He says, poking Barry's shoulder. "-owe me a dollar."

"I didn't accept the bet. And you still owe me a dime from the jukebox on Sunday." 

Chapter Text

On Friday there's a buzz around the senior classes. Even though not everyone was invited to Amanda's party, there's bound to be some gossip and stories afterwards. It only serves to make Barry even more anxious about the whole thing, and he's pretty close to telling Hal he just can't go. 

But Hal seems excited about it, and he doesn't want to spoil his fun. It's fine. He can survive one awkward night. 

They get off the bus that afternoon and instead of going left towards the house, Hal turns right. 

"Gotta go to the pharmacy." He announces. 

"Why?" Barry asks, already following him to the small one nearby. 

"Gotta get condoms." Hal says casually. And loudly. A few others had also gotten off the bus at their stop.

"Hal, there's people around!" He hisses, jogging slightly to keep up with Hal's fast pace and long strides. 

"Well I'm not going to tap without wrapping, am I? A guy's gotta take precautions these days."

Barry can't really argue against Hal actually thinking about safety. This is the guy who doesn't wear a seatbelt when Darryl isn't around and climbs onto roofs for fun. He should be actively encouraging him. But the idea of walking into a pharmacy and buying condoms sounds like the most awkward thing ever. 

They walk through the sliding doors of the pharmacy when they get there, and Hal starts strolling around, trying to locate the condoms. Barry knows where they are, because he actively avoids that aisle whenever he's here, but says nothing. Well, that's a lie. He's peeked once or twice. Out of curiosity. 

"Here we go." Hal says, when he finds them, in what Barry thinks is much too loud a voice. He stands behind Hal, nervously gripping the straps of his school bag and shifting from one foot to the other. He keeps glancing over his shoulder, hoping he doesn't see anyone he recognises. 

Hal is taking his sweet time picking out a box. Barry didn't even know there were so many different kinds. 

"Not as big a selection as back home, but not bad. They've got strawberry flavoured ones." Hal says thoughtfully. "And mint. But those burn. You don't want - well a girl wouldn't want that inside her y'know?"

" Hal. " Barry hisses again, completely mortified. He wonders why people would even want flavoured condoms. He wonders how Hal even knows about the effects of mint flavoured condoms. 

The brunet seems to find Barry's embarrassment awfully amusing, and doesn't hurry along any bit. Has he no shame? Barry doubts that anyone in the Midwest has ever spent this long in the sexual health section.

"Don't be such a prude, Bar." Hal picks up a box and shows it to him. "See this one's got little ribs on it, it's supposed to feel-" 

"Can't you just get the plain ones and go?" Barry whispers, leaning away from the box Hal holds up to his face. 

"Alright, alright." Hal puts up his hands in defence and grins. He picks up a box of XL ones, raising a mischievous eyebrow and Barry quietly swallows. 

"Just kidding." He puts it down and picks up the L size instead. "Maybe I should get a few flavoured ones too..." 

He passes the box to Barry, who almost drops it, and goes back to look at the flavoured ones again. "Strawberry, banana or vanilla?"

"I don't know, vanilla?" Barry squeaks. He looks over his shoulder again. Hal chuckles.

"Figured you'd choose that. Alright." Hal picks up the smaller box of vanilla flavoured ones and takes the other box back from Barry. "Let's go."

Barry breathes a sigh of relief, glad they're going to get out of here, but then Hal turns around again. "Damn. Almost forgot the lube."

"Lube?" 

Hal grabs a small tube of what Barry figures is lube, and a fistfull of small packets. 

"These are easier to carry around." He tells him with a wink.

Hal takes all of his items to the counter and unceremoniously dumps them there. Barry hangs back, and finds himself pretending to look at toothbrushes while watching Hal. The cashier, a girl who Barry thinks is a few years older than them, takes a look at the assortment of sex related goods and then raises an eyebrow at him. 

"You got ID?"

"Don't need ID to buy condoms. No minimum age." Hal informs her with a smile. "I'm legal anyway."

"Whatever, hotshot." She says, starting to cash them through. There's a definite blush on her face as she does so, and Barry wonders if she's ever seen anyone come to the counter with such a selection. Hal didn't even put a chocolate bar, or a random packet of throat lozenges with it to soften the blow. 

"You want a bag?" She asks.

"Nah, I'll just shove it in here." Hal tugs his schoolbag off and unzips it. 

He pays and they finally, finally leave. Barry has had some awkward and embarrassing experiences in his time, but that was something else entirely. Hal is completely unphased. 

"I hate you." He mutters, and Hal throws his head back and laughs. 

"No you don't." 

He doesn't. He really doesn't. And he can't stop thinking about those size Ls. A cocktail of shame mixes in his stomach. He shouldn't be thinking about another guy like that. Even if guys are constantly bragging about their dick size, he shouldn't actually think about their dick size. 

He did get a brief flash of Hal's...on Monday morning, but it wasn't enough to make an assement. Not that he should be making assessments.

"She was totally into me." Hal says, thankfully interrupting Barry's very inappropriate thoughts. 

"I'm pretty sure she was a senior when I was a freshman."

"So?"

"Isn't she a little old for you?"

Hal shrugs. "Never stopped me before." 

Every time Hal says something like that a little red light goes off in Barry's brain. He can't help but feel concerned. But what does he know? He's just a prude, right?

They get home and dump their bags on the bedroom floor. Hal crouches down and unzips his, pulling out his purchases. 

"Why would you even want flavoured ones?" Barry asks, cautiously picking up the box of vanilla condoms like it's going to burn him. 

"For oral sex. Blowjobs. Makes it more pleasant." Hal tells him. "For her, y'know?"

"What...what if she doesn't want to...do that?" 

"Well that's fine. I can still use them. On her. Makes it more pleasant for me."

"What do you mean?" 

Hal makes what looks like a backwards Vulcan salute with his hand and crudely sticks his tongue through his fingers. "Oral."

Barry looks down at the box, trying to ignore the way his cheeks prickle. He's never actually seen a real condom before, only diagrams in those public health campaigns that have started circling since Reagan left office. 

"Aren't they...the wrong shape for a girl?" He asks, confident his face is bright red now. 

Hal stands up suddenly. "Have we got any bananas in the kitchen?"

"What?" 

"I think a lesson is in order." He declares, dashing downstairs. 

Two minutes later, they're sitting cross-legged on the bedroom floor. Hal has grabbed a banana, a notebook and a pen. Also, curiously, a scissors. He takes a packet out of the plain box. "It's a shame to waste one, but education and all that." 

He rips it open and pulls out the condom. A small rubber ring that looks a bit like a nipple. Hal grabs the banana and places the condom on the tip of it. 

"It's important to pinch the end of it to leave some room at the top, especially if it doesn't have the nipplely thing built-in." Hal explains. "If you don't it could burst, which is not very radical."

He passes the banana to Barry, who stares at it for a few seconds before taking it. He holds it still in both hands like Hal has passed him a baby that he has no idea what to do with. Hal bobs his head at him.

"Go on, roll it on."

He pinches the tip like Hal said, and rolls it down the length of the fruit. It's like putting on a rolled up sock. Except it's not soft and dry like a sock.

"It's...moist." He observes.

"Yeah, some of them come with lubrication."

"So why did you get that?" Barry points to the tube and packets of lube Hal had purchased.

"You can never have too much lube, Bar. Sure, girls get wet naturally, but some more than others, y'know? Now, about what you asked earlier." 

He picks up the pen and notebook and starts to draw. "Okay, so I'm better at drawing dicks, but basically, this is more or less what girls have got going on down there. Of course, it varies a little, like dicks do."

He holds up his hastily drawn...diagram and starts pointing things out. Barry's only ever seen diagrams of what the inside parts look like in health class, never the outside. 

"That's the vagina. That's where you wanna be. This up here is called the clitoris. This is your secret weapon. Even some girls don't know about it. It's really sensitive, and they love it when you touch it." 

Barry feels his face heat up significantly at that. This is news to him. He'd never heard of such a thing. While initially skeptical about Hal's impromptu sex ed class, it really does sound like he knows what he's talking about, behind his simplified and casual language. He already feels like he's learned more than he ever did in health class. Sure, he knows the scientific terminology and functions, but nothing practical. 

"It takes a while to develop the technique, but that's how you get her to orgasm. And you want her to, because it feels amazing. Some girls fake it - and they're really good at faking it - but you don't wanna be the guy that makes them feel like they have to, because that's not fun for anyone." 

He takes the banana back from him and takes the condom off it. "Now, you asked how they can be used for oral on a girl."

Barry didn't ask quite that directly, but he's curious. To his surprise, Hal picks up the scissors and snips the top off the condom. He then cuts up the length of it, rolling it out into a sheet of latex. "Behold."

Hal holds it up to his face, grinning behind it. "You put this between her cooch and your mouth, and then you go to town."

Hal places the cut up condom over his little diagram, and Barry can see what he means. They definitely don't cover that in health class. Barry wasn't even aware that was a thing people did. Sure, he's heard about guys getting blowjobs, but girls? Do girls like it? 

"Where did you learn...all of this?" 

"You pick things up here and there. Experience, mostly. And the lady in Planned Parenthood gave me a rundown on using condoms right."

"Planned Parenthood? What were you doing there?"

Hal pauses for a couple beats. "Well, you can get free condoms there. That's why. That...reminds me of something I have to do sometime."

Hal gets up and tosses the latex into the bin beside Barry's desk. "Any questions?"

There is one question on Barry's mind, but despite Hal's openness and relaxed attitude, he doesn't think he can ask it. What about gay people? How do they have sex? Instead, he shakes his head.

"Cool. Well, now you won't die of AIDs or get someone pregnant. You're welcome." Hal closes the notebook, leaving the diagram in there. Barry has a feeling it's only a matter of time until he accidentally pulls it out in class.

"Thanks. It was...interesting. Educational." He means that, even if he's still horribly flustered by the whole thing. 

Hal picks up the banana and unpeels it, seemingly unphased by the fact it had a condom on it two minutes ago. Barry, still sitting on the floor, tries to look away as he gets half of it into his mouth before biting it. Sweet Jesus . Why?

When he finishes eating it, he tosses the peel into the bin on top of the condom, then puts his hands on his hips. "Okay. We need to decide what we're wearing to the party."

"Are we not wearing these clothes?"

"I mean, you can if you want. But considering everyone saw everyone else at school already today they'll probably change their clothes."

Hal opens up the wardrobe, and like every time, Barry's heart rate increases when he does so. Hal had finally unpacked a few days ago and moved his clothes into it (keeping his to the left side), but hasn't yet discovered the corkboard hidden in the back. Sure, Hal knows a bit more about the circumstances now, but Barry doesn't think he's comfortable enough to show him the murder board. Not yet. Or ever, perhaps. 

Hal pulls put a white sleeveless top and holds it up. It has the words 'life's a beach' printed on it in rainbow-coloured writing. "This will do." 

Still facing away, he tugs his plain green t-shirt off. Barry's breath catches at the sight of his back, tanned and muscular. God. It's been almost a week. He should be over this stupid crush by now. 

Hal pulls on the sleeveless top and tucks it into his jeans, then turns around. "Y'know, as awesome as that t-shirt is, I think we could tone down the nerdiness."

Barry looks down at himself. He's wearing a blue t-shirt with the Starfleet logo on the left breast. 

"The blue is still a good colour though. Suits you. So does red."

Hal pulls out a plain red t-shirt and passes it to him. Barry takes it and hesitates. Does he change here? He's not sure he wants to, but walking out to change in the bathroom now is just too awkward. Hal swapped shirts right here so he probably should too. 

Barry avoids looking at Hal as he tugs his own t-shirt off and quickly puts on the other one. He tucks it into his jeans just like Hal did. When he eventually makes eye contact with him again Hal seems completely unbothered, and Barry feels silly for being so worried about changing in front of him. Other boys don't care about it, so why does he?

"You got a denim jacket?" Hal asks, rifling through the wardrobe again. 

Barry nods. 

"Wear that." Hal says, finding it and tossing it at him. When Barry has it on, Hal stands back with a hand on his chin, checking over his handiwork. Even though he's fully dressed, Barry still feels vulnerable having Hal's brown eyes looking him up and down.

"I think you're good to go."

"The party doesn't start till seven."

"Well if you get ready now, so won't be late then."

"Isn't being fashionably late for such social events the done thing?"

"Usually, yes, but with your rep it isn't. Tonight we're going to be early and avoid shitty jokes about being late." Hal says, patting him on the shoulder as he makes his way to the door. 

Barry's eyes wander towards the condom boxes on the floor, and he crouches down to tuck them away back into Hal's bag. Darryl doesn't really come in here anyway, but he'd rather not risk him seeing all that. 

He stands up and stares at the bag for a few seconds, then reaches back in and tears one condom off the strip. He slips it into his pocket. He's not even really sure why. It's not like he plans on using it. It's not like he will even get the chance. Maybe he just likes how grown up it feels. 

He pulls out some homework and leaves the room, with the intention of getting some done at the kitchen table before dinner. He passes by the bathroom, and Hal has left the door open while he shaves. Barry pauses for a moment and instinctually reaches up to touch his own face, feeling little more than peach fuzz. He doesn't have to shave more than once a week, and there Hal is touching things up after shaving last night.

Barry continues on his way downstairs, clutching the books to his chest. He's done the math. Hal's birthday is the 20th of February, and Barry's is the 19th of March, making Hal only twenty-seven days older. Sometimes it feels more like twenty-seven months. Hal is just so much more knowledgeable of the real world, while Barry is too scared to step out and experience it. While he often disapproves of Hal's attitude towards certain things, he also wishes he could be more like him - fearless and unashamed. 

He places the books on the kitchen table, and decides to get some vegetables ready for dinner before doing his homework. That somehow turns into him taking inventory of the fridge and then making a shopping list. It's not until Hal comes downstairs that he realises just how far he's strayed from the original task. 

"You want any help?" Hal picks up a large knife and grins. He mimes some stabbing motions with it, and it takes Barry a fraction of a second too long to realise that he's supposed to laugh instead of stare blankly at him.

Hal's face drops and he gently puts the knife down. "Shit. Sorry. I forgot."

Barry blinks at him a few times. "What? Ohh! Oh, it's okay. I uh…didn't see any of…" he awkwardly copies the stabbing motion, "That."

Hal nods and rubs the back of his neck. "Yeah. Sorry. You want help? What are you doing anyway?"

Barry looks down at his half finished shopping list, the half chopped vegetables, and the undone homework on the table. He sighs. "I'm not even really sure what I'm doing."

Some days he finds it impossible to stay on task without Darryl or a teacher getting on his ass about it. It's incredibly frustrating.

"Well...it kinda looks like you're chopping vegetables." Hal says, grabbing a half-chopped carrot. He grabs the knife again and finishes it off. Hal's not bad at cooking. He told him that he sometimes made dinner when his mom was working late.

Darryl comes home and finds them shaking with laughter, tears in their eyes and teaspoons in their mouths, while trying to chop onions. 

"What are you two doing?"

Hal takes the spoon out of his mouth, "My mom always does this when she cuts onions to stop herself from crying."

"And does it work?" Darryl asks, raising an eyebrow while he puts his bag down.

Hal looks back to Barry, eyes red and watery. "Nope."

They both get another fit of the giggles. God, his eyes are burning .

Darryl comes over and steps between them, taking the knife from Hal. "Why don't you two get some homework done before going out tonight? I'll finish this off."

They do, and then have dinner. By the time that's done it's almost seven. Barry had forgotten to be anxious about the party for a while, with Hal keeping him quite distracted, but as he watches the minute hand on his watch creep closer to twelve again his worries return. 

"You want some?" Hal asks, snapping him out of his thoughts. He looks up from where he's sitting on his bed to see Hal holding out some Axe body spray. 

"Uh...sure." Barry takes it and sprays some up under his shirt. He immediately starts coughing at the scent of it. Some might have gotten into his mouth.

"Girls like it."

"They do?" Barry asks, because while Hal usually seems knowledgeable on this kind of thing, that sounds fake. "Don't they prefer nice smells like fruit and flowers?"

"If you go to a party smelling like fruit or flowers you're going to confuse the other guys." 

Would that be a terribly bad thing? Barry thinks. 

"Keep out of trouble." Darryl says as they walk out the front door. Barry can't help but notice the warning is pretty much just directed at Hal. "Be back by 1am, no later."

"Will do." Hal assures him, closing the door behind them. He tucks his hands into the pockets of his beloved jacket as they walk down the street, and Barry copies him. He feels the plastic wrapper of the condom in his pocket and is momentarily surprised, forgetting he'd put it there. He's glad he remembered what it was before he pulled it out to check. 

Hal got Amanda's address from her, but isn't yet familiar with the street names, so Barry ends up leading the way. Without any bag straps to hold or rubix cube he finds himself fidgeting with the condom package, now very aware of its presence in his pocket. Miraculously Hal doesn't notice. He really shouldn't have taken it - it wasn't his to take. But then again, Hal had been quite helpful earlier, and if he'd asked he probably would have given him one. 

"You okay?" 

Barry nods. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Just...anxious about the party."

"You seem anxious about a lot of things. A lot of the time." Hal notices.

"Yeah. I know. It's stupid." 

"Nah. I just think you need to spend less time in here," Hal tells him, tapping a finger on Barry's forehead, "And more time out here."

He throws his arms out, gesturing generally. 

"How?"

"I dunno. Instead of worrying about stuff I just...don't think about it." 

"You don't think?" Barry asks, and Hal grins.

"Most of the time, no. I just do. Which sometimes leads to me getting myself in some...interesting situations, but I'm very rarely stressed out." Hal tells him, folding his arms behind his head. 

"Interesting like jumping off roofs or giving girls hickies at school?"

Hal shrugs. "I never said I gave her that hickey."

"You know some of the girls have a competition. To see who can kiss you first." Barry tells him, feeling his cheeks heating up. He didn't mean to say anything about it, but it sort of slipped out.

"Oh yeah?" Hal asks, the corner of his mouth curling up. "Who told you that? Daphne?"

"Who else?" 

"And tell me - is she participating in said competition?"

"I don't know. She just shrugged and smiled when I asked."

"Well, thanks for letting me know."

"Yeah. No problem." 

He's not sure he agrees with the idea of the competition, but can't help but think what a wonderful competition it would be to win. 

And there he goes again. He needs to get over this. It's only going to end one way for him - in heartbreak. 

Chapter Text

They walk for about twenty minutes until they arrive at Amanda's house. White picket fence, nice, well-kept garden. The suburban ideal. It's far bigger than Darryl's - Daphne mentioned once that Amanda's dad is a neurosurgeon and her mom is involved in making those workout videos that are really popular, like Jane Fonda, so it makes sense. 

Barry pauses at the end of the driveway and forces himself to take a deep breath. This is fine. He tells himself. Try not to imagine Amanda's disgusted face when she sees you. 

Hal throws an arm around his shoulders and nudges him along. "C'mon. It'll be totally fine."

He rings the doorbell and they wait for twenty excruciating seconds. They can already hear music coming from inside the house. 

The door finally opens to Amanda's face. She's got blue eyeshadow on and her hair half up in a red bow. There's about five different necklaces around her neck, which will no doubt be a nightmare to untangle later. She smiles wide upon seeing Hal. "Hal! You're early."

"First time all week." 

She then notices Barry standing behind him. "And...you brought Barry."

"Course I did." Hal says, patting Barry on the back. He pushes him forward and lets him walk through the door first. Barry does his best to be polite, despite being an unwanted guest. 

"Your house is very nice." He tells her as she closes the door. He immediately cringes at himself. 

"Yeah. Thanks." She gives him what's clearly a fake smile and then looks back at Hal. "Everyone is leaving their jackets on my parent's bed upstairs."

"I'll keep mine with me, but thanks." 

"It's a very nice jacket." She says, brushing a hand on his shoulder and then down his arm. "Is it real leather?"

"'Course."

Daphne appears, walking in from the living room. She is sporting similar blue eyeshadow and black lacy fingerless gloves that go up to just below her elbows. "Hey guys! You're unusually early." 

"It's no mean feat, believe me." Hal says. Daphne gives him a hug, and Barry feels a strange twisting in his chest. He passes it off as anxiety. 

She gives Barry a hug next, and Amanda leads Hal into the living room, where Papa Don't Preach by Madonna is playing. Daphne's hair smells pleasantly fruity, something citrus. Not that he was intentionally sniffing her hair. That would be weird. 

"I was worried you'd bail."

"I nearly did. Many times."

"If Hal is what it takes to get you to show up to things then I'll be very sorry to see him go in December." She says, speaking over his shoulder. 

"Me too." A reminder that his friendship with Hal is probably just temporary and convenient. 

She pulls back and smiles up at him. The hug was longer than the one she gave Hal, which makes him feel marginally better. "C'mon, let's go get something to drink."

She takes his arm and leads him towards the kitchen. "I'm staying here tonight so I can have alcohol this time."

"Oh. I see." He says, trying his best not to sound judgemental. He knows that Daphne drinks from time to time, but he's never actually witnessed it. "I think I'll stick to pop." 

There's nobody in the kitchen when they get there, just lots of snacks and drinks, and Barry wonders if this is what being early is like all the time. There's quite the selection of beverages. Cans and bottles of beer and alcoholic cider, some wine and a 70cl bottle of Smirnoff vodka that looks very intimidating.

"Sensible as ever." She takes a red solo cup from the stack. Why are they always red? "Coca Cola, Fanta or 7up?"

"Uh, 7up please."

"Coming right up." She twists the cap off a large two litre bottle and pours it out for him. She passes it over and grabs a can of hard cider for herself. 

Daphne takes him into the living room, where Hal is helping Amanda, Lori and Tamara move the furniture to arrange it around the perimeter of the room, with a large coffee table in the centre. They must be the first boys here. Although the girls don't like him much better, he sort of hopes the other boys don't show up at all, or at least take their time. 

Cyndi Lauper's Girls Just Wanna Have Fun is playing over the sound system now. Barry stands awkwardly by the doorway for a few moments, holding his cup in his hand and observing the scene.

Hal's jacket is wrapped around his waist as he pushes the floral patterned couch towards the wall. The girls are giggling and commenting on his arms, which are nicely displayed with the top he's wearing. A strategic choice on his part, no doubt. Barry discovered pretty quickly that Hal is quite aware of his good looks. 

"Hey Bar, could use another guy here." Hal says, suddenly looking at him and waving him over. And really, how can he say no?

Barry passes his cup to Daphne with a quick thanks and joins Hal in pushing the furniture per Amanda's direction. He's not sure how much he's actually helping, but he feels somewhat useful, which is nice.  

"Y'know what, I think we should just come late next time, we're being taken advantage of." Hal says, leaning into Barry's ear like it's a private remark, but talking loud enough for everyone else to hear. Another round of giggles follow. 

Once the furniture is all moved Barry finds himself sitting between Hal and Daphne on the couch, and he chats to them, pretending he's not tired from moving it and everything else. Amanda clearly wants to stay next to Hal too, but being the host she has to open the door for other people. More alcohol arrives with guests, most notably a bottle of rum, and Barry wonders how on earth all of these teenagers are getting a hold of so much. Are they raiding their parents' liquor cabinets? Or do they all have fake IDs?

Pretty soon there's about twenty people gathered in and around the living room. Daphne tells them that there shouldn't be anyone else coming, and that it's a small party. Barry wouldn't consider this small at all, but then again, he had been imagining something more akin to parties he'd seen in movies, where the whole grade shows up and completely trashes the place. He's very glad that's not the case.

Lance comes across them, already holding a can of beer, which he points at him. Barry shrinks back into the couch. Lance looks at Daphne next to him.

"Daphne! What is your fascination with this loser?" 

"He's not a loser, Lance." 

"I get that pitying him makes you look all saintly or whatever, but nobody really gives a shit, so you can cut the act." 

"C'mon man, leave it." Hal says, standing up. He gestures to Lance's beer. "Why don't you show me where I can get some of that?" 

Hal throws an arm around Lance's shoulders and they walk into the kitchen. Barry breathes a sigh of relief. 

"God, what an asshole. You'd think he'd have grown up since middle school." Daphne says, frowning. She takes another swig of her cider. Barry stares down at the pink rug, which has a similar floral pattern to the couches and armchairs.

"Daphne...why do you hang out with me?" 

"What do you - you don't seriously believe him do you?" 

"You are a very convincing actress." He points out. 

"I hang out with you because I care about you. And you care about me too." She says, scooting forward so she can turn to face him properly. She puts a hand on his knee and he looks down at it. The gloves are very Madonna-esque. 

"Of course I do." He says.

"They don't get it. They don't know you like I do." 

He looks up and finds her gazing right at him. 

"Daphne! Can you come to the bathroom with me?" Amanda asks, coming up to them and grabbing Daphne's arm. 

"Yeah, of course." She gives him an apologetic smile before following Amanda out of the room. He's not exactly sure why Amanda needs company, as nobody is drunk yet, but it also gives him some breathing room. He's not certain what to make of that conversation with Daphne. 

Hal returns and flops down onto the couch next to him, beer in hand. He sighs dramatically. "I hate being nice to that guy."

He nudges Barry's arm and the 7up in his cup sloshes. "Daphne quickly came to your defence though."

"She's a good friend. Both of you are." 

"Thanks, but you've missed my point entirely."

What if Hal is right? What if she does like him?

Michael comes along, with a drink in hand, and sits on the arm of the couch next to Hal. He crosses one leg over the other. "So, Hal. I think we might have a mutual acquaintance."

Hal looks up at him, momentarily sucking in his bottom lip with interest. "Oh yeah?"

"Are you a friend of Dorothy?"

Barry doesn't know any Dorothys, and wonders why Michael is phrasing the question like that. Is it just theatre dramatics? Or is there some secret school club for cool people that Hal has joined without telling him? 

"Yeah. I'm a very good friend of hers." Hal replies, and Michael seems quite satisfied with this answer. He takes a sip from his cup.

"I can't right now, but we should talk about her. See you later?"

"Yeah, sounds good." 

Michael gets up and walks away again, going to talk to Lori, Dana and Aaron. Hal watches him go, and then takes a sip of his drink, smiling around it.

"Who's Dorothy? I didn't think you knew anyone here." Barry asks.

"Eh, that's not important."

"Is Michael selling drugs ?" Barry quietly hisses, because it's the only reasonable explanation he can think of for that weird and vague interaction. Is Dorothy a dealer? Or another code word for cannabis he hasn't heard before? It has a lot of nicknames. Or maybe meth? Meth is a big problem in their state. 

Hal lightly slaps a hand on Barry's knee and throws his head back with laughter. Barry's brain zones in on the below the belt physical contact, even though it's just his knee. 

"No, Bar. I told you, I don't do drugs."

"Alcohol is a drug." He points out. "It's just legal and highly regulated."

"You're such a square. Don't worry about it."

Barry is about to inquire about the mysterious Dorothy again when Amanda sidles up next to Hal and sits on the arm of the couch. "You look like you know some good drinking games." 

"I do indeed." Hal says, then takes a swig of beer. Barry notes the way his eyes rake over her figure and he resists the urge to roll his. "You got a ping pong ball?"

"No, that's the thing. The only one I know is beer pong, but we can't play it."

Hal considers for a moment. "I know one everyone can get involved in. You got a deck of cards and a pint glass?"

"Sure."

Hal and Amanda set up the game, making room on the table. A large glass is placed in the centre and is surrounded by a ring of cards, facing down. Hal announces it as 'King's Cup' and asks who wants to participate. Pretty much everyone says yes, and they all gather around, sitting wherever they can. The music is turned down to background noise so Hal can be easily heard.

"You playing Bar?" 

"I don't want to drink." He says, and there's a couple of juvenile jeers in response. Hal seems understanding, however.

"Just play with the soda. It's still fun." 

Hal finishes his first beer and opens a fresh one for the game. He explains the rules, which sound terribly complicated, and assures everyone that even if they don't get it they'll pick it up as they go along. 

Barry's just glad there doesn't seem to be any truth or dare element to it. Being the undesirable person people dare girls to kiss is the worst. And truth isn't much better, with that terrifying question - are you gay?

"Amanda, as our host, will you do us the honour of picking the first card?" 

"Of course." She says, daintily plucking one out with her long painted nails. "It's an eight."

" Eight, mate . Choose a drinking buddy."

"Alright. Daphne?" 

"Sure."

"Whenever one of you has to drink, the other does too." Hal explains. Both girls take a sip of their cider. 

Hal pulls out the next card and suddenly ducks down to a squat. " Four floor! " 

Everyone scrambles to touch their hand to the floor. 

"Who was last?" Hal asks, looking around the room. A few hands are pointed around, but most are aimed towards Barry. Hal gives him an apologetic look. "Sorry Bar. Looks like it was you."

He takes a sip of his 7up, feeling his face heat up. Trust him to be too slow.

Lori pulls next. " Five guys ."

All the boys drink. The card after that is an ace - waterfall. Everyone has to start drinking at the same time as the person to their left, and not stop till they do. Lance, who ended up sitting to Hal's left, downs what seems like half of his can, and Hal does the same. Next is six chicks , and all the girls drink. 

Tamara pulls out a ten, and has to pick a category. She chooses types of birds, and starts off with 'duck.' The next person says 'turkey' and so on and so forth. Matt fails to name a bird fast enough, and ends up taking the drink. He pulls out a king next, and Hal tells him to pour some of his drink into the glass in the centre of the table. 

"What are you drinking?" He asks.

"Rum and coke." Matt says with a grin, pouring it in. 

"Aw, fuck dude. Already off to a bad start. Alright. We also have to set a new rule. Got any ideas?"

Matt shrugs. 

"That's fine, I've got a good one. Tiny man."

"Tiny man?" Lance repeats, representing the confusion shared by most of the room. 

"Tiny man. Before you drink, you have to take the tiny invisible man off the top of your cup, can, whatever, and place him down somewhere safe. You have to put him back on when you're done." Hal says, miming the ridiculous action with his thumb and index fingers pinched together. "If you forget about the tiny man you have to drink. The rule is in place until the next one is set."

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard." Chris says.

"Well, people forget about the tiny man a lot, which means more drinking. It works." Hal tells him.

And he's right, people forget him quite a lot. Barry forgets him once or twice, but considering he's just drinking 7up, he's not all that worried. He does remind Daphne of him a few times, when he thinks she's about to forget. 

Seven heaven is much like four floor in the opposite direction, with everyone putting their hands up, but it also catches Barry out. He's not good at speed. 

A jack is pulled out, and a never have I ever is asked. A basic question - 'never have I ever had sex.' A lot of people take a sip. Barry wonders how many are being truthful about it. Hal takes a big swig. Barry doesn't. Daphne doesn't either. He'd have been pretty surprised if she did - he thinks it's the kind of thing she would have told him about. 

Nine bust a rhyme is much like ten, with one person starting with a word and the next person having to come up with a rhyming word, going around until someone fails. 

Even though he's not drinking, Barry finds himself actually enjoying the game. However, he hopes Darryl never, ever finds out. If he knew Barry let Hal play this they're dead meat. Though he's not sure what the punishment would even be - he's never required much discipline. The benefits of being a 'square.'

At some point Hal selects Barry as his 'mate' for the rest of the game. It puts him under more pressure whenever a seven or four is pulled out, because if he's the last to act Hal has to drink too, and he'd rather Hal drink as little as possible. 

There's two you (the person who pulls the card choses someone to drink) and three me (they themselves drink). He wonders where on earth Hal picked up this game.

Another king is pulled. Dana pours some of her cider into the glass and Hal sets another rule, finally doing away with the absurd and annoying tiny man. This time it's 'gecko .' Whenever Hal mentions the word - which could be at any time - everyone has to flatten themselves onto the nearest surface like a lizard, and the last to do so has to, as expected, drink. 

Barry is on his third cup now, and has switched to Coca Cola to change things up a little. Hal is drinking cider now, and Barry thinks it's his third or fourth drink of the night, which is a little bit concerning. He said before that one was like nothing right? How much does that make four?

Daphne goes to the kitchen to refill and returns with what looks like a cup of 7up, to Barry's relief. 

Hal announces the first gecko and everyone scrambles to become lizards. Drinks get spilled and people laugh at the ridiculousness of it. Aside from worrying about Hal's alcohol intake, it's quite fun. He himself pulls a few cards. 

There's another never have I ever question, and Lori asks it. "Never have I ever wanted to kiss someone in this room."

Pretty much everyone takes a drink, including Daphne and Hal. Barry hesitates, but then takes a quick sip. It's not like anyone will know who. 

Barry's not sure how much time has passed by the time there's only a few cards left. The third king was drawn a while ago, and everyone was banned from saying people's first names, a rule which was constantly broken. Daphne pours some of her drink into the cup, having been the one to draw the card. Barry can see everyone getting more and more giggly and rosy-cheeked around the room. Daphne leans into Barry's side on the couch, smiling to herself. She seems okay, just happy.

The final king, rather appropriately, is the last card left on the table, and it's also Hal's turn. He pours what's left of his cider into the glass, and it suddenly dawns on Barry that the last king means the cup has to be downed. 

He thinks of what went into it as Hal raises it up above his head and people cheer. Matt poured some rum and coke into it. Dana poured in cider and so did Hal. Daphne put 7up into it. He doesn't know enough about alcohol to know how bad a combination it is.

Hal stands up on the table and chugs the entire thing while Barry watches in horror. He downs it all in more or less one go and grimances. Clearly a volatile taste. The other boys go ballistic, clapping him on the back and hooting like a bunch of monkeys in a zoo. 

Hal steps off the table, still triumphantly holding the empty glass. He wobbles a little on his landing, and Barry's heart leaps in his chest. He gets up and runs over to him. The music is turned back up, and Duran Duran are singing 'Hungry Like The Wolf .'

"Are you okay?"

Hal nods, bobbing his head a few times too many for Barry's liking. "M'fine. I think I'm done drinking for the night though. Woo! That went right to my head." 

He laughs to himself. 

"This was a terrible idea." Barry thinks aloud, one hand on Hal's arm, steadying him, and another running through his own hair.

"Relax Bar. I'll be sober enough by the time we go back. I'm like...an expert at acting sober in front of my mom. I'm pretty good at acting. Maybe I should audition for the musical." He jokes. 

Hal looks back down at the empty cup in his hand, and then at Daphne on the other side of the room. "Hey, Daph! Did you put vodka into this?"

Vodka? Barry thinks. 

Daphne giggles and shrugs. "I mixed a double shot with 7up!" 

Hal's eyes go wide. "A double shot? Holy shit. What else have you drunk?" 

"Oh...maybe three ciders?" She says. Barry thinks back - had she really drank that much?

"Woah. That's a lot for a girl." Hal sounds equal parts impressed and concerned.

"I feel fine. M'just a little tipsy."

"That's cuz those shots haven't hit you yet." Hal tells her. He looks at Barry. "Keep an eye on her, yeah?" 

"Where are you going?" Barry asks. 

"I." Hal starts dramatically, wiggling his eyebrows. "Am going to get some." 

He wanders off, and Barry checks his watch. It's ten-thirty now, and he desperately hopes that Hal means what he said about being sober enough when it comes time to go home. 

He looks back at Daphne. Lance is talking to her, sitting on the couch with an arm wrapped around her shoulder. She's frowning. Barry has a bad feeling about it, and wants to get her away from him, but also doesn't want to be the one to do it. Where's Hal? He'd know how to sort it out without pissing Lance off. 

Think, Barry, think. Aside from a possible sugar high you're completely sober. Figure it out. 

Lance places a hand on Daphne's thigh and she sloppily pushes it away, trying to duck out from under his arm. Barry finds himself across the room before he notices his legs moving, and he takes both her hands, pulling her to her feet as gently as he can while still holding her firm.

"Hey, Daph, do you want to get some water?"

"Fuck off Allen. If anyone's getting with her tonight it's gonna be me, not your sad little virgin ass." Lance says, standing up and grabbing Daphne's arm. 

Barry fights against the instinct to freeze when faced with him. Lance is drunk, but he's still a lot bigger and stronger than he is, and there's no hope of Barry taking him in a fight. He sincerely hopes it does not come to that, because his first priority is getting Daphne away.

"Ow, Lance, let go!" She says, though it sounds more like a complaint than a demand, lacking her usual determination. Barry thinks Hal's evaluation was right - she has had quite a lot. 

Where's Amanda? She's Daphne's best friend, isn't she? Shouldn't she be looking out for her too? He quickly glances around the room and sees her feeling up Hal's bicep while he smiles down on her, both of them oblivious to what's going on over the music. Ah. Of course.

Tamara appears on Lance's other side and takes hold of his hand. "Hey there, handsome. I've got a friend over here who wants to talk to you." 

Lance gives another look at Daphne and Barry before letting go and following Tamara. The other girl looks over her shoulder and gives Barry a nod and a steely look. He thinks it means 'I'm leaving her with you. Don't pull any shit or I'll kill you.'

He mouths a thank you in reply. 

"Barrrrry." Daphne says, tugging a hand out of his to cup his face. "You're my hero."

She pulls him in for a hug and he feels his face heat up. She hasn't called him that since they stopped playing make believe games. "I think Tamara did more than me." 

She's leaning on him a good deal more than she was when she hugged him earlier, and he steps one foot back to keep his balance, holding her up a bit. Daphne mutters into his shoulder. "I'll thank her too."

"Why don't we go to the kitchen and get you some water?" Barry suggests. 

"Okay." She agrees, but doesn't move, arms still wrapped around him. 

"Uh...Daph? You're going to have to let go. I don't think I can carry you there." He lets out a small laugh.

"No?"

"No. I don't exactly have the arms Hal does."

"Hal has nice arms." She muses. "I think your arms are great too. A little more soft and cuddly." 

"Uh...thanks?" 

"Like a teddy bear. Bear."

"I'm gonna need to walk you to the kitchen, okay?"

"Okay." She mumbles and finally untangles herself. Barry keeps one arm around her to support her and he leads her to the kitchen. He sits her onto one of the chairs and fills a glass of water at the sink. When he turns around she's leaning rather precariously to the side and he dashes back over to right her again. 

"I need you to drink some of this, okay Daph?" He asks, holding the cup to her mouth, his other hand on her shoulder, keeping her steady. 

He manages to get her to take a few sips. Barry thinks through what he's heard and read about looking after drunk people. He's never actually dealt with any drunk people until now, and he's discovered he doesn't enjoy it very much. It's rather stressful. But he wants to help, and he's determined to. 

"How are you feeling?"

"Kinda sick." She says. 

"Okay...should I get a bowl? Or do you think you can make it to the bathroom?"

"Bathroom."

"Okay." He gets her to drink a little more water and then helps her up again. He's not entirely sure if all this moving around is a good idea, but she wants to go to the bathroom, so that's where he's taking her. 

He gets out into the hallway, and he's quite glad he went to the bathroom once already tonight, because otherwise he would have no idea where it is, and she's not in the position to direct him there.

"Y'know, it's a good thing you're sleeping here tonight. You don't have to be home till the morning."

"Yeah…" 

Amanda squeezes Hal's bicep and giggles. If he wasn't attracted to guys he doesn't know if he'd understand it, but he is, so he does. He likes to keep in shape - gotta be able to pass the physical to get into the Air Force. He works out every evening and most mornings, while Barry is still trying to gain consciousness. 

"That game was a great idea. I think people really enjoyed it." She says, and he plays along. 

"Yeah?" Hungry Like The Wolf is drawing to a close. It's a pity. He likes Duran Duran.

"Totally. Hey, do you want to go somewhere a bit quieter?" And there's his in. He's about to nonchalantly shrug and say, sure, why not? 

But he never gets the chance. Someone calls for Amanda, requiring her attention outside. Chris is using a very nice vase as a cup for cider.

She groans in frustration and excuses herself, pushing through people to run out the front door. Oh well , he thinks, maybe later . A song by the Pet Shop Boys comes on next, ' It's A Sin.' He wanders out into the entrance hall with a can of Pepsi and watches through the door as Amanda gives Chris hell on the front lawn for using the vase. Something about heirlooms and neighbours seeing.

He decides he doesn't want to get involved. He's about to go back into the living room when he catches sight of Michael standing halfway up the stairs. They make eye contact. He pointedly gives Hal a once over and then turns around. He starts walking up the stairs, giving him a nice view. He looks over his shoulder towards the top, and Hal unconsciously wets his lips with his tongue. 

He takes one last sip of the Pepsi and then abandons it on the banister at the end of the stairs, following Michael. He checks to make sure nobody is watching. The only two people nearby are Dana and Aaron, making out in the hallway. They pay them no heed.

Later has come sooner than he thought, it seems.

Chapter Text

The bathroom is thankfully empty and Barry somehow maneuvers Daphne to the floor in front of the toilet. It's an avocado green colour, and so is the sink. The tiles on the floor and walls are patterned white and gold. A style that is going out of date faster than people can redecorate. Still, it's more appealing than the varying shades of brown and mustard in their bathroom at home.

"I don't wanna get sick." Daphne groans. 

"I know, it feels awful. But I think you'll feel better after it?" Barry says, even though he's not entirely sure. Drunk puking might be different to regular puking. 

He does know there's few things worse than needing to throw up, and staring into a toilet bowl waiting for it to happen, however. He thinks back to when he was little. What did his mom do when he had a stomach bug? He thinks she rubbed his back. He tries that, and holds Daphne's hair the best he can. 

"It's okay. Just...let it happen."

It does, and he stays there while she gets sick, rubbing circles on her back and keeping the strawberry blond locks out of the toilet bowl. It's not exactly how he imagined his night going, but it's alright. It's a little quieter in here, away from the main bustle of the party. 

Occasionally people stumble to the door, looking to use the toilet or maybe needing to get sick themselves, but they back away to find somewhere else when they see them. Chris does come in and get sick in the sink once, and when he goes Barry momentarily leaves Daphne's side to close the door. He can just about make out Running Up That Hill by Kate Bush playing. 

"Are you finished?" He gently asks, and he really hopes so, because there can't be much more to throw up. It's just liquid at this point, which is good, he supposes, as it means he's less likely to throw up himself with the sight and sound of it. 

"Yeah. M'sorry." She apologies, and she looks up at him with teary eyes, irises startlingly green against the red tint of the scaleras - trust him to think of the scientific term right now. Her mascara has been disturbed too, but she still looks very pretty.

"No! No, don't be sorry! It's okay. These things happen." He reassures her, petting her hair in what he hopes is a comforting way. 

"Not to you."

He tilts his head to the side. She has a point. "Well, no. But I'm boring." 

She moves to lean against him and he puts a hand on her back to support her. 

"You're not boring." Daphne mumbles into his chest.

"I am. It's okay. I've accepted it."

He gets her to drink more water, having had the sense to bring a cup with them. He figures the more she has the better. She already seems more coherent after throwing up. It appears that's one way to sober up.

"Do you want to lie down?"

She nods, and he helps her lower herself further onto the floor, resting her head in his lap. He leans against the cool tiled wall beside the toilet and stays with her.

The bedroom door is closed behind them, and Hal turns the key in the lock, fumbling just slightly. He's at that stage of tipsiness when he feels like he shouldn't be able to do things very well, but is pleasantly surprised when he can manage them. It's lucky he's such a big guy - it takes a lot to get him actually drunk.

Hal passes a queen-sized bed, which has jackets piled on top of it. Huh. This must be the parents' room. He tries to avoid those, but if there's nowhere else, well. Someone tried to get him to make out in some kid's room at a house party one time. The kid wasn't home obviously, but that was too weird. Having a teddy bear staring at you while you've got your tongue in a girl's mouth is kind of a mood killer.

Michael must be thinking the same, because he opens the door to the en suite bathroom. Practical. Hal follows him in, footsteps muffled across the carpeted floor of the bedroom, and that door is then locked too. The bathroom resembles a Barbie dream house playset - everything from the toilet to the bath to the towels on the rack is varying shades of pink. 

The blond leans back against the rose pink sink counter and gives him an intense, hungry look. He is not new to this, which is very good. Makes things a lot quicker and easier for them both. None of that 'I'm not gay so don't kiss me ' Or 'I want a blowjob but I don't give them' bullshit. 

"You know, I had had my suspicions all week. But I had to be sure. I hope the Dorothy thing wasn't too on the nose."

Hal mimics his seductive body language, leaning back against the door and folding his arms. "Not at all. Barry was clueless."

"I had some doubts. You're very good at playing straight. As an actor I have to offer my compliments."

"Not hard when I'm not acting. I like girls."

Michael huffs. "That's what they all say."

Most guys don't believe him when he says he's not gay. They seem to think his declaration of bisexuality actually means he's halfway in the closet, clinging to some semblance of heterosexuality rather than accepting that he's a full blown homosexual. Which might be the case for some people, sure, but he knows for a fact that bikinis excite him as much as the next guy. 

He doesn't understand how you can limit yourself to just men, just women. How can you not be attracted to people of any gender? People are hot. They're just hot in different ways.

"I mean it." Hal unfolds his arms and pushes away from the door in one smooth motion - impressive given he's not entirely sober. "Girls are great. But sometimes…"

He crosses the small room and places his hands over Michael's on the counter, boxing him in. He looks down at him, faces just inches apart. "...sometimes, I like things a bit rougher."

Michael quickly closes the gap and kisses him, and Hal kisses back, matching the intensity. He lets go of his hands so Michael can let them roam, tangling one into Hal's hair. The other goes up the back of his shirt to explore his back.

Hal moves forward to slot their hips together. The hand in his hair tightens and Michael's lips part with a little gasp at the pleasant pressure. Hal takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into his mouth, and he responds, further tilting his head to give him more access. He can already feel himself getting hard, and Michael is definitely getting there too, if what he's pressing against is any indication. 

They've been making out for what feels like two minutes before Michael reaches between them and tugs at the front of Hal's jeans. He inhales sharply and his eyes snap open, feeling an odd jolt in his chest. The other boy notices and pulls back for a second.

"Something wrong?" Michael asks, voice low from a combination of kissing, horniness and alcohol.

"No." Hal quickly answers, and immediately kisses him again, reaching for the button of Michael's jeans. 

What the fuck was that? He thinks, making as quick work of the zipper as is possible when slightly intoxicated. He actually has a fair idea of what it was, but he refuses to accept that Brett might have had some kind of effect on him. Fuck him. He's not scared of sex. He's not scared of anything. He loves sex. 

Hal pushes onwards. Michael unwraps the jacket tied around his waist and it drops to the floor. He gets his zipper down and reaches into Hal's underwear, wrapping a hand around him, feeling him up. Hal groans - it's been what? Two weeks? Three? Since he's had someone else's hand on him, and it feels good . Michael smiles against his mouth. "Not bad."

Hal gets a hand on Michael in return, brushing past the soft hairs, which he suspects are as blond as the ones on his head. He grins. "Not bad yourself."

"Hands or mouths?"

Hal hums thoughtfully for a moment, like he hadn't made his mind up minutes ago when he spotted the bulge in Michael's pants. He drops down to his knees, thankful for the fluffy pink matt on the floor. He's kneeled in some shitty fucking places - gravel is the absolute worse - and this is practically luxury in comparison.

Hal smirks up at Michael, who naturally enough seems to be enjoying the view, and tugs down his pants and underwear, freeing his cock. Uncut, maybe five inches or so. Hal reaches for his jacket and turns it over, trying to find the pocket he put the condoms in. It takes him a few seconds longer than it usually would to retrieve two - fucking rum and vodka - and then he throws the jacket onto a nearby stool. He'd rather not get anything on it.

He tears the condom open and Michael is looking down at him, less impressed than before. Some guys get touchy about condoms, especially when it comes to oral. Oscar told him that if they refuse to wear one, you refuse to blow them, simple as. It's a small price to pay.

"What? I don't know where your dick has been." 

"Just hurry up."

Hal rolls the condom on, and while that brief hesitation annoyed him, it doesn't do anything to quench his thirst. Just thinking about getting his mouth on him is making him feel impossibly harder. There's something so dirty about it that it sometimes simultaneously turns him on and makes him feel like shit.

He finally does get his mouth on him, and had momentarily forgotten about the vanilla flavour Barry had picked out earlier. It's a nice surprise. 

Hal employs all his usual techniques, gauging Michael's reactions to quickly determine what he likes. He's not as slick as he usually is - the alcohol is making him a little bit sloppy, but he doesn't think the other boy notices. Michael's hand finds its way back into his hair, tugging it just slightly, and he lets out a pleased sound around him. He loves having his hair touched. He's not sure why, but it really does it for him.

Before long Michael has another hand covering his mouth to try suppress his moans, and Hal knows it'll soon be his turn. He fucking hopes so anyway, his jaw is getting sore. And if Michael comes and decides he's done Hal might actually punch him. He's too horny and tipsy to deal with that shit.

He does come soon after that, fast enough to be a compliment to Hal's skill, and yet slow enough to not reflect badly on Michael's ability to last. A job well done. 

He grabs the other condom and frees his own cock while Michael catches his breath and dumps the first one, then quickly washes his hands at the sink behind him. Hal stands up and Michael gets to his knees this time, between the sink and Hal, thankfully willing to return the favour. 

Hal leans forward over the sink counter as Michael starts off. He only gives a few brief licks before pulling away and looking up at him. 

"Is this...vanilla?"

"Mmm-hmm." Hal replies, wishing he'd just get on with it, because he needed to come like, three minutes ago. 

"That's a good idea." Michael says thoughtfully, before properly getting into it. His technique isn't fantastic, but it's good enough. Hal figures it's harder to gain such experience in a place like Danville, or even further into the city. He settles one hand into Michael's curls, not pulling or anything, just admiring them. God, he loves blonds.

He's so riled up it doesn't take all that long for him to come with a loud groan. His own hand is good, but nothing beats the real thing. 

After he gets his breathing back to normal they both clean up and make sure there's no evidence of the encounter. Hal slips his jacket on.

"I hope I don't have to say it, but you tell no one, got it?" He warns.

Michael laughs softly. "And out myself too? No way. I can't fuck off back to Cali like you can. I've got far more to lose."

He leaves first and Hal waits a few minutes before walking out himself. He passes by an open bedroom door and sees people gathered around. Matt is sitting half in and half out the window, clearly sloshed, and Amanda is shrieking at him to get his ass back inside. Joshua tugs at his legs and he falls in, landing on his ass with a loud thump. How much rum and coke did he have? Hal continues on his way downstairs before anyone notices him.

He considers tonight a success.

"Where's Hal?" Daphne asks.

"I think he's trying to uh...hook up with Amanda. Or maybe she's trying to hook up with him."

Daphne huffs. "Guess that's why she's not here. Some friend." 

A minute later she starts shaking a little, and Barry realises she's crying. "Hey, it's okay. I'm here."

"I feel like such an idiot. I can't believe I threw up in front of you." She says in between little sobs.

Barry brushes her hair back out of her face and chuckles. "Daph, I'm pretty sure we used to share a paddling pool when we were kids. Really, it's okay."

She laughs a little at that, and Barry wants to keep that up. "Hey, you want to hear a funny story?"

"Okay."

"Earlier today, Hal dragged me into the pharmacy. To buy condoms." He tells her, sure he's blushing. 

Daphne gasps. "Really?" 

"Yeah, I know. I mean, can you imagine me in the condom aisle?" 

She giggles, and he continues. "He spent so long looking at them. I was going crazy, thinking someone would see us. And then he asked me which flavoured ones he should get."

"Flavoured ones? Do they exist?"

"They do." He reaches into his jacket and pulls out the packet he had swiped earlier. He shows it to her. "It's vanilla flavoured."

She gets a fit of the giggles and he can't help but join in - she's always had a gloriously infectious laugh. 

"Does he-" she wheezes "-want his dick to taste like warm ice cream?" 

Barry bends over, clutching his stomach with his free hand. "I'm...oh god...my face hurts from laughing."

Once they finally calm down and catch their breaths, Daphne takes the little package from him to examine it. 

"Why do you have one?"

"I don't know." He admits, cheeks hot. He can't believe he's talking about condoms with Daphne . Usually he avoids any kind of sex talk with her. Which meant not much sex talk with anyone until Hal came along. "It's not like anyone would want to...y'know. Have sex with me."

He thinks back to Lance's comment. If anyone's getting with her tonight it's gonna be me, not your sad little virgin ass. Initially, it had just made him angry on Daphne's behalf, he hadn't really paid much attention to the second part.

"I think you'd be surprised." Daphne says, turning the condom over in her hand. 

He shakes his head. "You don't have to spare my feelings, it's okay." 

"I'm not. I...I think anyone would be lucky to have you." 

Barry sucks in a sharp breath. Oh . 

He huffs and brushes it off, not sure how else to respond. There's a slight panic blooming in his chest and he hopes it doesn't show on his face. "Sure. Hey, can I maybe move my legs? I think they're starting to go dead."

She gives him the condom back, and he returns it to his pocket. He lifts her up, though she's got some more control now, and he stretches his legs out with a groan of relief. 

Her head settles back in his lap and they sit quietly, listening to the distant music. He thinks she's drifting off to sleep and he's pretty tempted to join her. He brushes some hair away from Daphne's face and suddenly feels a surge of affection for her, but not in a romantic sense. He likes being the one to take care of her for a change. She's usually the one looking out for him, and it's a nice feeling to return the care.

There's a knock on the door. "Barry?"

"Yeah?"

Hal barges through, causing Daphne to look up. "Chris said you guys were in here. Hey Daph. You good?"

"Barry's been looking after me." She says, and there's a slight bite to her tone that tells Barry she's not all that impressed with Hal right now. It was kind of bad form for him to wander off on them, knowing full well that Barry has no experience with drunkeness. 

"Yeah. Barry's a good dude." He says, and Barry can't help but notice the slight hoarseness in his voice. It...does something for him. He closes the door behind him. Hal sinks down to the floor and leans against it. 

Barry knows he should be mad at him, but he can't find it in his heart to be.

"You...having fun?" Barry asks, almost afraid of the answer.

Hal smirks and tips his head back. "Cheeuh."

Barry has to catch his breath at how gorgeous he looks. His hair is even more ruffled than usual, and his lips are red. His eyes and cheeks are a little red too. He's definitely tipsy. Barry really shouldn't find that attractive. 

He tries not to think about what Hal's been getting up to.

"I think I wanna go to sleep." Daphne announces, and she lifts herself up, wobbling a little. 

"Woah, careful." Barry says, taking her arms and helping her. 

"M'fine. Just tired. Can you take me upstairs?"

"Yeah, yeah of course."

He glances towards Hal, indicating he'd like some help, and together the two of them bring her upstairs to the guest bedroom, receiving a few looks along the way. It does appear quite bad. Barry sends Hal back down to find her overnight bag, which is somewhere in the hallway. 

Amanda comes along as Barry is setting her down onto the bed, and immediately assumes the worst. She stands in the doorway with her arms crossed and eyes narrowed. 

"What do you think you're doing with her, Allen?"

"Oh, so now you care?" Daphne spits, tears welling in her eyes again. Her words are still a little slurred, far from her usual perfect enunciation. "While you were off sucking Hal's dick, Barry was holding my hair back, like a real friend."

Barry is taken aback by the outburst. She rarely gets angry like that off stage and out of character. Maybe it's the alcohol. The accusation involving Hal...might be true.

"I didn't suck his dick! I don't know who it was! He disappeared before I could even get a kiss from him." Amanda defends, words also a little slurred.

Daphne frowns. "What do you mean?"

"Matt - that little shit - climbed out onto my fucking roof . And he says he saw Hal getting head in my parent's bathroom, but he couldn't see who it was." Amanda explains, nose wrinkled up in disgust. "He was about to get with me , I know he was, but then he dropped me and went off with someone else." 

Barry keeps his mouth shut, not exactly sure what his place here is. He doesn't tend to get wrapped up in drama, and he doesn't think he likes it very much, even if he's not directly involved. He feels like he shouldn't be listening to any of this. 

"Whatever. It still doesn't explain you abandoning me. I went with you to the bathroom every time you asked, and you didn't do the same for me." Daphne says, voice cracking slightly. 

"It's your own fault for drinking so much." Amanda says. She sourly glances at Barry. "But it looks like you got what you wanted, so good for you." 

She storms out then, leaving Daphne upset and Barry quite confused. Hal comes back a minute later with Daphne's bag slung over his shoulder and two glasses of water. 

"She just tried to push me down the fucking stairs! I almost spilled these." He says dramatically, more shocked than angry. He sets one down on the bedside table and drops Daphne's bag onto the bed. 

"Why have you got two?" She asks.

"One for me, one for you, baby." He says, then chugs the other glass. 

"Oh." Daphne says, looking at the full glass on the side table. She seems surprised by the simple, but thoughtful gesture. "Thank you."

Hal just nods at her in response, then points at Barry's watch. "It's 12.30. We gotta get back soon."

"It is? Oh god." Barry says, looking at the watch to confirm. 

"I'll see you downstairs in five." Hal says, patting Barry on the shoulder and winking at him on the way out. He closes the door behind him. 

"Tonight has been very confusing, and I'm not even drunk." He remarks, and Daphne giggles. 

"I need to change into my pyjamas." 

"Oh! Okay." He stands up, with the intention of leaving the room. She catches his wrist. 

"You can stay. I don't mind." She tells him with a shy smile, reaching for her bag. She fumbles with the zip and frowns at it. "In fact, I might need a little help."

He hesitates for a few seconds. He can't help her get undressed, can he? It would be extremely inappropriate. Especially because she's drunk. But his desire to help wins out over his embarrassment. He assists her in getting the pyjamas out of the bag, then turns around. 

"I'll stay here in case you fall over or something." He says, and closes his eyes for good measure. She's a little drunk, but still deserves some dignity. 

After two minutes or so she tells him she's done, and he cautiously opens his eyes. He turns around, and she's standing next to the bed in her pyjamas. Green floral patterned shorts and a short sleeved matching button-up. She's also taken her makeup off with wipes or something, because the ruined mascara is gone. The faint freckles on her nose, which had been a lot darker when they were little kids, are visible again. 

"You're a gentleman." She tells him with a smile. 

Barry bashfully shrugs it off. He pulls back the covers of the bed and helps her get settled in. He moves a small waste bin from the corner of the room and puts it at the side of the bed.

"There's a glass of water here if you need it, and this if you need to get sick again." He points to the bin.

She nods sleepily and closes her eyes. "Thank you, Barry."

He hovers for a second, feeling like he should do something else, but not sure if he should do it. But it feels like the right thing. Especially because he has to leave her.

He bends down, kisses her forehead and whispers, "Goodnight." 

"Goodnight." She replies quietly.

He leaves her then, making sure the door is closed. He lingers for a few seconds, still wondering if he made the right decision, and how she'll take it if she remembers it in the morning. 

He goes back to the party, which is starting to die down a bit. There's a haze of cigarette smoke which he had forgotten about, having been away from the main buzz of the gathering for so long. It's unpleasant. He cringes at the mess which has been made. Though it's quite as bad as he had expected, he's glad it's not his house. 

He spots Tamara in the living room and braces himself with a deep breath before going over and tapping her on the shoulder. 

She raises an eyebrow at him, and he opens his mouth before she can open hers. "Daphne is upstairs in the guest room. Would you mind checking on her? I have to go home."

"What did you do?" She asks, narrowing her dark eyes. Lori, standing next to her, is giving him a similar look.

"Nothing." He puts his hands up in defense. "I just don't want to leave her alone with Lance around."

"He's already left."

"Okay. Good. Um, thank you for dealing with him earlier." He says, and then ducks out of the conversation again to go look for Hal. He finds him in the kitchen, which now has abandoned cans, bottles and red cups abandoned on every surface. All that's left in the snack bowls are crumbs and a few small broken tortilla chips. Hal is chugging more water. 

"Alright. Let's goooo." Hal says, throwing an arm around him. He leans on him slightly, and good lord, he is a lot heavier than Daphne. 

The walk home is...interesting. Hal gets distracted a couple of times while chatting to him about the most random things, which makes him slow down. Barry urges him to walk and talk at the same time, anxious that it's almost 1am. Autumn hasn't set in yet, so while it's cool, it's not cold. 

When they get in the door with a few minutes to spare he's greatly relieved, but a new worry surfaces - will Darryl see right through them?

"On time? That's a miracle." He says, appearing in the living room door. Barry almost jumps out of his socks. The TV is on, casting blue light through into the entrance hallway, but it's just late night teleshopping commercials. His silhouette looks rather imposing.

"If I were Catholic I'd be a saint." Hal says, sounding ten times more coherent than he was when they arrived at their driveway. "Patron saint of getting Barry to move his ass."

"I think one of the qualifying factors for canonisation is that you have to be dead first." Barry says. He's not even sure how he knows that. 

"Your dad was Catholic." Darryl reminds Hal. He looks amused, but slightly suspicious of them.

"Yeah. But mom's Jewish, so." Hal shrugs. "Well, Barry and I have had a long day. I think we'll go to bed now. Goodnight."

He makes a beeline for the stairs, and climbs them without so much as a wobble. Barry watches him in disbelief. He is good at acting sober.

"Barry?"

"Hm?" He looks up at Darryl, doing his best to feign innocence. And he is innocent. He didn't drink.

"Has he been drinking?" His guardian asks, pointing upstairs.

Barry is not used to lying to Darryl, but he takes a leaf from Hal's book and plays stupid. He makes use of his big blue eyes and smiles. "Nothing but pop. I think the sugar crash is finally about to hit him."

"And you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You haven't been drinking?"

"No." The truth. Darryl, thankfully, seems to believe him. A benefit of being such a goody two shoes up till now - he's built up his trust. Barry instinctually feels bad for now betraying that trust, but he's a teenager, isn't he? He's allowed to tell his guardian a little white lie every once and a while. 

"Good. Have fun?"

The night didn't go as expected, but it wasn't necessarily bad. Probably better than what he expected, honestly. The game was quite fun, and he also had fun talking to Daphne, once she stopped throwing up.

"Yeah. I did, actually." 

"Good. You're getting along well with Hal, I see?"

Barry smiles. He hopes the blue light is cancelling out any red that's colouring his cheeks. "Yeah."

"I was worried you'd hate each other. You don't seem to have much in common, aside from your Star Trek show. And I know you weren't too pleased about him coming here. I'm glad I was wrong." He walks towards him and pats his shoulder. "You deserve friends, Barry."

Darryl starts walking up the stairs. "Turn off the tv for me, will you?"

"Sure." 

Barry watches Darryl disappear upstairs. He walks into the dim, blue-lit living room with a smile on his face, and sits down in front of the tv, now advertising gold bars or something. Who is buying gold bars at 1am, he has no idea. His eyes prickle with tears, but it's not because of onions, or because he's upset. 

He feels happy, actually. Above the mix of other confusing emotions tonight stirred up for him. And he doesn't know when he last felt sure of that feeling.

He's got friends . Plural .

Hal is already lying in bed when Barry creeps in, clearly trying his best to be quiet. He fails, knocking over a stack of books on the floor and quietly gasping, which is probably Barry's way of saying shit without actually saying it. He's so uptight when it comes to swearing. The absolute worst Hal has heard from him so far is 'dang it.'  

The alarm clock reads 1:35am, and he wonders just what Barry's been doing. As for what Hal's been doing? Sobering up, and slowly feeling worse and worse. Shame pools in his stomach. 

Barry quietly changes his clothes for bed, and Hal can just about make out his figure in the scant bit of light creeping in above the curtains. Not much muscle beyond what puberty has naturally given him, pale skin. In contrast to the few other times he's seen Barry change, he's not trying to conceal anything. Of course, he doesn't know Hal is watching him, probably thinking he's asleep. He feels like a creepy voyeur, which is just another hunk of shame and guilt to throw on the pile at this point.

Barry slips into bed, and Hal hears him get settled. 

"Hey." He whispers after a minute or two. Barry jumps, in surprise or fright. Most likely fright. He startles easily.

" God , I thought you were asleep." He hisses back, and though Hal can't see, he knows Barry is clutching his chest underneath the covers.

"No. I was awake. Thinking."

"About what?"

He hesitates for a few beats before speaking. "You're a good person, Barry. Not like me. While you were helping Daphne I was getting head in the bathroom upstairs." 

Giving head too. And doing it first.0

The other boy is quiet for a moment, which is fair. How does one even respond to that?

"That doesn't make you a bad person."

Hal huffs. Trust Barry to be kind like that. "Maybe not. Makes me a whore though." 

Barry inhales sharply, clearly taken aback. "I've...never heard a guy call himself that before."

"I've been called it plenty." Hal says, then rolls over and closes his eyes, wishing for sleep to come. 

He doesn't always feel like this after a hookup. Usually he's happy, riding the post-orgasmic high. But tonight his internalised homophobia has reared its ugly head, in combination with other things. He overheard some of what Amanda said earlier, pausing at the top of the stairs to listen.

- about to get with me, I know he was, but then he dropped me and went off with someone else. She sounded upset. And sure, he doesn't like her, but that's just it, isn't it? He would have hooked up with her anyway, and only didn't because Michael came along instead. What does that say about him?

Maybe he deserved that shove down the stairs. 

Chapter Text

Hal gets up first on Saturday morning and goes to take a shower. He doesn't have a headache, but his stomach feels a little unsettled, and he's thirsty. One of the benefits of youth - drinking whatever you like with practically no hangovers. 

He pads back into the bedroom and throws on last night's t-shirt again after giving it a quick sniff. It smells fine. 

Barry shifts in his bed, hair all messed up from the pillow and sleeping mask on. Hal's never known a guy their age to wear one. Until now, that is. The alarm clock on the table next to him says it's 9.30. He won't be up for another half hour at least. 

Hal goes downstairs for breakfast, deciding to skip his workout for now. He sticks to plain toast, lest he unsettle his stomach further, and a large glass of water. Through the kitchen window he sees Darryl sitting on the back porch with a newspaper and a mug of coffee. 

He eats his breakfast on the couch in front of the tv - he wasn't allowed to at home but he figures Darryl might be a bit more lax about it - and flicks through the channels. Time to veg out.

Delightfully, he finds a rerun episode of Star Trek: The Original Series. Sure, it's old and cheesy with terrible special effects, but he enjoys it. He and Jim used to spend a lot of Saturday mornings watching Star Trek:The Animated Series or Scooby Doo. He wishes he'd done more of that before he went away. 

Barry finally appears, wandering in with a bowl of cereal. His hair is still fucked up and he's wearing red plaid pyjama pants and a large t-shirt, with blue slippers to complete the look. Honestly he looks more tired and hungover than Hal does. 

Barry doesn't function well in the mornings. Hal does, to everyone's surprise. He's always been an early riser - or a riser at a reasonable time at least. He figures it's the military family thing. His dad was always adamant that they all get up early on Saturday and Sunday mornings. Even Jack, who was a grumpy thirteen year old by the time Martin died, was always up before nine on the weekends.

"Morning."

"Mornin." Barry greets sleepily. His tired eyes light up a little when he sees what Hal is watching. "Oh, Star Trek."

"Yeah. I think it's the one with the Gorn."

"Neatl. Uh, How are you feeling?" Barry asks as he sits on the other end of the couch.

"You mean, am I hungover? No."

"Oh. That's good."

They watch as Kirk is beamed down to the planet's surface. Hal snorts when he sees all of the desert rocks. While set in far reaches of space, the series was entirely filmed in and around LA, which ruins the magic a bit.

"Let's beam down to this totally alien planet." He mocks,"It's definitely not just SoCal." 

"Don't ruin it!" Barry scolds, gently hitting Hal with a cushion. His mild but uncharacteristic violence only spurs Hal on.

"That's the Vasquez National park outside LA, my mom drove us up there once." Hal tells him with a laugh. 

"No!" Barry places his bowl on the table so he can cover his ears. "You've got to maintain the suspension of disbelief!"

"Much easier when you're not from SoCal." He shrugs.

"Shh."

This day last week, Barry probably wouldn't have dared hit him with a pillow, and Hal takes it as a good sign. He needs to let loose more. A bit of mild affectionate violence between friends is healthy.

They settle down to watch Kirk face off with the Gorn, a giant green reptilian alien, who throws ridiculously slow punches.

"Jim and I reenacted this fight scene when we were there. Jack called us dorks."  

"Who was who?"

"I let him be Kirk. He said I was too tall, so I had to be the Gorn. It was fun, but Mom stopped us when we started picking up rocks." 

They watch Kirk gather up raw materials to make a bomb, while Spock watches him from the starship with great approval, knowing exactly what he's trying to accomplish without being told.

"Look at Spock's face. He's thinking, yeah, that's my captain." Barry says, and Hal has to agree. He'd always admired Kirk and Spock's relationship. They balance each other well. While Spock is the smart and logical one, and Kirk is the more reckless, emotional one, Kirk always has some tricks up his sleeves too. 

"I hate when people call Kirk a dumb womaniser. He's actually really smart." 

"Like you."

Hal raises an eyebrow at Barry, whose mouth drops open. He quickly explains himself. "That came out wrong. What I mean is...well, people seem to think you're some sort of Casanova - and you are, a bit. But underneath that you've got all this knowledge about aerodynamics and engineering. Handsome, but secretly smart. Like Kirk."

It's not often Hal thinks of himself as smart. However he zones in on the other part. "You think I'm handsome?"

Barry looks back at the TV.  "I don't know. That's what the girls think."

God forbid one guy compliment another guy's looks. He nods. "Thanks."

Hal continues watching the episode, trying to figure out what made Barry say that. When the sparkly alien twink shows up in the silver dress he suddenly remembers what he had said.

"I uh, I called myself a whore last night, didn't I?"

"Yeah...you did."

"Sorry. I guess that game of King's did a number on me, huh?" Maybe he can play it off as a joke like usual. He's never shared those thoughts about himself with anyone before.

Barry frowns into his bowl, having picked it up again. "You said other people had called you that."

Shit, he did, didn't he? One step further and he could have given himself away. 

"In like, a joking way. Hal, you're such a whore, ha. I don't mind. I mean, it's a compliment, isn't it? When it's directed at a guy, anyway." 

The other boy is quiet, and Hal feels like Barry isn't all that convinced. Shit. 

"I stole one of your condoms." Barry suddenly announces, whispering like he's afraid Darryl will hear from the porch. 

"...Okay?"

"I'm sorry." 

Hal chuckles. The way he says it is so sincere, it's like it's been eating at him for a while. "Dude, it's alright. Did you...use it?"

Barry's face flushes red and he waves his hands in defence. "No! No, I didn't. Of course not. I don't even know why I took it."

"You're curious. That's fine."

The blond rubs his face with his hands. "It felt good to admit that."

Hal can't help but laugh at him. He meant what he said last night about Barry being a good person. Too good, almost. He makes Hal look ten times worse than he is. Next to him, Hal is a hardened criminal. 

"Keep it. Who knows, it could be useful."

Barry huffs, which usually means, yeah right. 

"Lance called me a 'sad little virgin' last night. Kind of the opposite of what people have called you. Definitely not meant as a compliment."

"He's just jealous of you, because Daphne likes you more than him."

Barry seemingly chooses to ignore Hal's very obvious hint about Daphne's feelings for him. "He was being a creep last night."

"Yeah. When I went to the kitchen with him to get beer he went on and on about her. The things he'd do. I didn't know whether to punch him or laugh at how slim his chances were. It was pathetic."

"He tried to...I don't know. When you left he started talking to her. I went over, and I wanted to tell him to back off, but I just froze. I was too scared to say anything."

"Sorry I wasn't there." He does feel bad for leaving Barry to deal with all that, especially given his lack of experience with these things. It only serves to cement his belief that he's not the good person people seem to think he is. 

Barry shrugs. 

"It was okay. Tamara distracted him. I thanked her later." He puts his finished cereal back onto the coffee table. "I uh, I'm glad you had fun though."

"Yeah."

"You didn't, uh...with Amanda?" Barry asks quietly, avoiding eye contact. He fiddles with the drawstrings of his pyjama pants.

"No. Someone else."

He expects Barry to ask who, but he just nods. "Was it nice?"

"It was alright."

Another episode of Star Trek has started, and he immediately recognises which one it is from the footage of old Air Force jets at the start. It's the one where the Enterprise crew travel back in time to the 60s - then present day to the original audience - and accidentally make their presence known to one of the pilots.

"Oh, this is a good one." Hal says, turning the conversation away from last night's exploits and sitting up attentively. "Probably one of my favourites."

"I wonder why." Barry says with a knowing smile, and Hal hits him with the cushion this time. He's getting more sarcastic. Hal is definitely a bad influence. 

And yes, a big part of why he likes this episode is the planes, but it's not the only reason.

The pilot - Captain Christopher - is brought onto the ship, and Kirk certainly takes a liking to him, giving him a very obvious once over as soon as he appears on the transporter pad. His hazel gaze is highlighted in the same way it always is when Kirk uses his charms. After that, Kirk can't seem to keep his eyes off him. 

"That flight suit must be uncomfortable." Kirk says to him on the bridge of the ship. He turns to Spock. "Why don't you have the quartermaster issue him something more suitable? And then I'll want to meet you and him in my quarters."

Kirk leaves, and Christopher and Spock exchange a glance. Christopher seems nervous. Uhura has a knowing, amused smile on her face. If Hal hadn't seen this episode a million times, he'd say Kirk just arranged a threesome. 

Of course, that's not what happens, and it couldn't happen. That sort of thing wasn't allowed on TV in the 60s, and it still isn't now - at least, not between men. But to Hal, it's still there, plain as day. There's not a doubt in his mind that Kirk is like him, attracted to men and women. And in the future nobody seems to care. Most of the few gay characters he sees on tv are camp and flamboyant - total flamers. And sure those people exist, but they're not all queer men have to offer. Kirk is masculine and popular with girls while still being y'know, fruity. Hal likes to think of himself as being like that. 

He doesn't voice any of this to Barry, obviously. He's never voiced it to anyone. Well, he mentioned it briefly to Oscar, but Oscar was a little busy with activism and cruising in the late 60s to watch Star Trek on Thursday nights. All he was able to offer on the matter was a comment on how William Shatner was a hot piece of ass at the time, and inform him that he was Jewish, which Hal hadn't known previously. Shatner is not a hot piece of ass these days. He's kind of a dick, really, but whatever. 

Darryl comes in and finds them sitting in front of the tv. "Beautiful day outside. Why don't you boys go out and play ball or something?"

"But we're watching Star Trek." Barry says. It's probably the most disobedience from Barry he's seen yet. Hal thinks back to how he was in gym class. There's no polite way to say it - Barry sucks at sports.

"Uh huh." Darryl crosses his arms and leans against the door. "And how many times have you seen that episode?"

Hal and Barry exchange a look. He bets they've both seen it several times. 

"Maybe later." Hal shrugs. "I think we've got some homework to do anyway."

"Well, there's a pair of mitts and a ball in the basement somewhere." Darryl says before going back into the kitchen. He seems doubtful that they'll take his advice, but doesn't push. He's been trying to convince Hal to try out for the football team all week to no avail.

Barry sinks down further on the couch and groans. Hal chuckles at him.

"Well whaddya say Bar? Wanna play ball?" He jokes, then remembers one key part of what Darryl said. "Wait a sec - there's a basement?"

Barry furrows his brows and looks up at him. "Did you not know we have a basement?"

"Well jeez, nobody showed it to me, so how was I to know?" 

There was no real house tour upon arrival. He's mostly been figuring it out as he goes along this week, and asking where things are when necessary. 

"I'll show you. When this episode is over."

When the episode finishes he does just that. Barry opens a door in the hallway Hal hadn't paid much attention to before now, revealing a flight of stairs leading down into the dark. 

"Woah, cool." 

"It's just a basement." Barry says, not getting Hal's excitement. He flicks on the light and starts walking down. 

"We don't really have basements in California." He says, following Barry. He looks around, seeing boxes and old furniture.

"Really? Why not?"

"I dunno. Earthquakes? Hey, how come you guys didn't just put me in here? There's plenty of room." He says, throwing his arms out. He's seen teenagers in movies with bedrooms in the basement. He always thought that was really cool. Convenient for sneaking people in and out, too. 

"It gets chilly in the winter. Darryl thought you'd be too cold, being from Cali and all that." 

"Oh. Yeah, he's probably right." He internally cringes at Barry saying Cali, but lets it slide.

He spots the mitts and ball Darryl mentioned, sitting on top of a box. He picks up the ball and tosses it towards Barry. "Think fast!"

Barry squacks in surprise and fumbles, not at all ready to catch it. It drops to the floor and rolls away. 

"Yeah, I don't think you'll be playing Major League Baseball any time soon." 

He picks up the glove. There's a significant amount of dust on it.

"When were these last used?"

"Sometime in the year I moved in. I think Darryl thought it would be fun, but he quickly realised sports weren't my thing."  Barry tells him, flicking through a box of comics. The collection must be even bigger than Hal thought. 

He imagines eleven or twelve year old Barry fresh after losing his parents and wearing one of these mitts, with Darryl trying to coax him into playing. Trying his best to make him feel more at home, maybe make him smile. It's a depressing image. 

Hal puts the mitt down. He's always loved baseball himself. Jim and Jack both prefer football. Jack played in high school, and was pretty good too - it's the reason he made it to college. Still, Hal could usually count on him to play catch. Throwing a ball back and forth in the evening, shittalking teachers they'd both had, or discussing which actresses they thought were hot. At times like those Hal wondered why they ever disliked each other. 

Damn, it's only been a week. He's not seriously missing Jack, is he? Gross.

Barry suddenly yelps, dropping a comic book he was holding, and Hal thinks, holy shit, maybe there's a serial killer down here. But no, it's just a spider. 

"Dude, seriously?" He says, putting the mitt down to take a closer look at the creature. 

"It came out of nowhere!" 

Hal can't help but laugh. It's not even a very big spider. Barry would have a heart attack if he saw the spiders they have in SoCal. He's pretty sure this time of year is mating season for them, so right now they're all out in force.

"Listen. I respect spiders. They have an important role in the ecosystem and they fulfill it well. But I don't have to like them." Barry says, keeping his distance between himself and the arachnid. 

"You want me to kill it?"

"No! Don't kill it. It eats the flies."

"Buddy of mine in middle school had a pet tarantula. I held it once." Hal tells him, and Barry visibly recoils. "Of course, we have them in the wild too back home."

Hal walks around the basement, picking up things here and there to look at them while he talks. "We've also got rattlesnakes. And scorpions. I got stung by one once, out by Arden's airfield. I tried to hide it from my mom, but she found out. I thought she was going to eat me." 

"Was it painful?"

"Hurt like a motherfucker. But it was okay after I iced it. It wasn't one of the deadly ones. Oh hey! Here's the bat!" 

"Be-" Barry starts.

He gives it a swing and accidentally hits a stack of boxes. The top one, a decades old monopoly game, gets knocked off and colourful paper money flutters everywhere like confetti. The game pieces and little houses scatter into dark nooks and crannies.

"-careful." Barry finishes, rather pointlessly.

"Shit." Hal says, lowering the bat as the last few bits of paper twirl to the ground. 

Barry sighs. They start to tidy it up. Hal is tempted to just chuck everything into the box and call it a day, but Barry insists on organising the money properly. They have a hard time locating all the game pieces, and can't find the thimble. Not much of a loss, as far as Hal is concerned.

"It's fine. I mean, who the fuck plays as the thimble anyway?"

"How many houses and hotels do you think come in the box? I don't know if we've found them all."

"Don't worry about it. I mean, are we planning on playing it any time soon?"

"Well, we've finally got enough people for a proper game, so maybe." 

Living in a house with just one other person seems so strange to Hal. There's always enough people for a board game in his - though that doesn't always mean you'll find willing players, much to Jim's frequent disappointment. Hal wishes he had taken him up on that game of snakes and ladders two weeks ago.

After trashing and untrashing the basement, they decide to actually do their homework like they said they would. Barry changes out of his pyjamas at long last, and they set up at the kitchen table. 

They break for lunch at two o'clock. After that, they finish off the rest of their homework. 

Hal decides to do his workout then, out in the garden - it is a very nice day - while Barry goes upstairs. Darryl has left to get some groceries - options were slim at lunch. He listens to his Walkman while he goes through the motions. 

Once he feels sufficiently worn out from exercise, Hal decides on one final challenge, and climbs up onto the porch roof as quietly as he can, with the intention of scaring the shit out of Barry in his room. A flawless plan. 

He slides the window up and both of them yell, because Hal has horrendous timing, and Barry was in the middle of jerking off. He scrambles to cover himself and Hal quickly turns around, sitting with his back to the window. "Woah, sorry dude."

Barry groans in what Hal can only assume is absolute mortification. "I locked the door, so you tried the window?!" 

"No, I went right for the window." Hal says. He starts to chuckle, not able to help himself. "Sorry, I'll let you get back to it."

"I don't think I can." Barry says with another pained noise.

"Did I kill your boner?"

"Please leave." 

"Well, now you know how I feel when Jim interrupts me." 

"Hal." He wines.

"Okay! Okay! Climbing back down now." He says with a laugh, making his way across the roof. He jumps off it, like before. Above him he hears Barry shut the window again. 

He lies in the grass for a while, wondering how much time he should give him. He kind of needs to change out of this t-shirt, it's all covered in sweat now. 

He's also wondering what it is that Barry Allen thinks about when he jerks off. Hal's got a whole load of experiences and images in his own wank bank. What's Barry got? Hal didn't find any porn mags when he briefly poked through his room. He wonders if Barry's ever even seen a porn mag. 

If he hadn't just seen it with his own two eyes he wouldn't believe Barry masturbates at all. He just seems like the least horny guy Hal's ever met. Too decent and polite for such a thing. He knows that's stupid. Every teenager does it. Even girls. Most of them, anyway. 

Mmm. That's an interesting thought.

If he isn't careful he'll need to jerk off next. You'd think last night would have satisfied him, but alas. His sex drive is unrelenting. He wonders if secretly Barry is just as horny as him, but really, really good at hiding it. Hal didn't see all that much, but he seemed to be having fun until he ruined it.

He sits up. C'mon. That's not fair. He shouldn't be thinking about his friend jerking off. It's one thing to think about a male celebrity, some hot guy he saw at the beach, or some rando he fucked a while back. But a guy he actually knows? That's different. Too weird. He tries to push away those thoughts before the shame comes back around.

He lies back down, absently tearing at the overgrown grass. He's just curious is all. Maybe he should ask. Would Barry even answer that? Probably not. Most guys would, without much hesitation, but him? No.

"What are you doing lying in the yard?"

He turns his head and sees Darryl on the porch, with his hands on his hips and a bewildered expression on his face.

"Oh. Us Californians like to absorb our natural surroundings post workout. Do some cloud watching, when there's clouds to watch. It's good for the soul." Hal bullshits, grinning up at him.

"Sounds like a load of hippie crap." He says, going back inside.

Hal decides to give Barry a few more minutes before getting up and trying to get into the bedroom. He knocks. 

"Heyyy Bar….You decent?"

There's a pause of a solid ten seconds before the door is unlocked. Barry avoids all eye contact. 

"Sorry again." Hal says, letting himself in.

"If there is a god, kill me now." Barry says, throwing himself face first onto his bed. Hal snorts.

"And you say I'm dramatic."

"The window. Oh my god." The blond groans into the bedsheets.

"I was trying to scare you. Which, I mean, goal achieved. But yeah. I should have known you'd take advantage of having the room to yourself." Hal tugs his t-shirt off and grabs a stick of deodorant. 

"Can we just...pretend it never happened?"

"Okay. But y'know incidents like that are inevitable right? Like, sooner or later you'll probably walk in on me beating my meat."

Barry makes some incomprehensible muffled noise, and he's not sure if it's because of the crude euphemism or the thought of walking in on him.

"We're roommates now. That's just part of it." 

He hears Barry move, obviously to look up, because he tiredly asks, "Why are you shirtless?"

"Was working out. Old shirt was gross and sweaty." He looks through his t-shirts, deciding which one to put on. 

"By the way. I couldn't help but wonder, what do you think about when you're, y'know?" Hal asks, making a gesture with his hand.  

Barry frowns and rolls onto his back to avoid looking at him. His face and ears turn scarlet. 

"I saw the way you blushed at the lake when you saw Daphne in that blue swimsuit." Hal teases, grabbing a white t-shirt with the Top Gun logo on it.

Barry covers his face with his hands. 

"I mean, I'll admit it crossed my mind a few times." Hal tells him.

"Do you ever think about anything other than sex?"

"Not usually, no. I'm a teenage boy, after all. You saying you don't?"

"I don't."

"Well, I guess I'm just a whore then."

Barry is quiet for a minute or so, probably unsure of how to respond to that, like this morning. The more Hal says it, the more it will seem like a joke, right?

"You uh, really like Top Gun, huh?" Barry asks, referring to his t-shirt.

"Best movie of all time." Hal says with conviction, taking the cassette out of his Walkman - the Top Gun soundtrack - and holding it up.

"I've...never actually seen it."

Hal stares at him, gobsmacked. "You haven't seen Top Gun?!"

"...No." Barry responds rather timidly.

"No. Dude. Unacceptable. How did you miss The film of 1986?!" He throws his arms out. 

"Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home was out that summer too. I saw it five times."

"The one with the whales?"

"I really liked it. It was a feel-good movie."

"Well yeah, it was funny, but I only saw it once with Jim. I saw Top Gun like...every other week until it stopped showing."

"Really?" 

"Yeah. I fucking love that movie. And we're going to a video store right now and renting it, because you have to see it." Hal tells him, pointing at the floor for emphasis.

"Okay." Barry says, like disagreeing isn't an option. "But can we rent The Voyage Home too?"

"Sure."

Hal grabs his jacket and slips it on. Barry sits up. "Oh, you mean right now, right now?"

"Yes, right now, right now."

Hal pats his pockets to make sure he's got his wallet and then leaves the room, instantly jogging down the stairs. "C'mon!"

"We're going to the video store." Hal says, sticking his head into the kitchen to tell Darryl. 

"I'll hold off on the pizza then. I'm going to a buddy's house to play cards and won't be back till late, so put these on when you get home." Darryl says, putting two frozen pizzas into the fridge. Hal throws him a finger gun.

"Cool. Thanks. Enjoy cards."

He strides back out into the hallway and calls up the stairs. "C'mon, Barry!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" He hears the muffled reply. 

Hal reaches for the front door and opens it, finding a surprise on the other side. 

"Oh! Daphne. Hi."

"Hi." She greets rather shyly, which seems uncharacteristic for her. Her hands are stuffed into the pockets of her windbreaker. She cranes her neck a little to try to look around him. "Is Barry there?"

"Yeah, we're just about to go to the-" 

He hears a few consecutive thumps and a grunt of pain. They both look towards the stairs, half of which Barry has slipped down. Once again his face burns red. "I'm okay! I'm fine!"

"The video store." Hal finishes. 

"Oh? What movie are you hoping to get?" Daphne asks, though she seems more interested in how Barry is doing after his fall.

"Top Gun." Hal tells her with a grin, stepping past her out the door. 

"And! Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home!" Barry adds, winded and wincing as he gets up and walks down the rest of the stairs. He walks to the door. "Hi, Daph."

"Hi."

"You wanna come with us? We'll have a movie night. There's pizza in the fridge." Hal suggests, walking backwards down the drive. 

"Yeah, okay. I mean, how can I say no to Tom Cruise?"

"Great! Now let's go!" Hal urges, pointing down the block with both hands.

Daphne and Barry stand at the door. They glance at each other, and then at him. Hal knows he looks a bit crazy - a lot crazy - but he's excited, god damnit. "C'mon guys, I don't actually know where the video store is."

Chapter Text

Hal finally gets Barry and Daphne down the driveway and onto the sidewalk. A few minutes later the trio are going past the corner shop and down the main street. Apparently there's a Blockbuster store not too far away. Hal and Daphne exchange quotes from the movie as they walk. 

"I actually came over to apologise for last night." Daphne says, sheepishly struggling to maintain eye contact with Barry. "I don't remember all of it, but enough. I can't believe I got sick in front of you. Pretty embarrassing."

Barry shrugs it off, awkwardly laughing a little. "Oh, it's okay. I mean, you just saw me fall down the stairs, so I'd say we're even."

"Thanks for taking care of me." She says, then looks at Hal, like she's just remembered he's here too. "Both of you."

"Nah, Barry here is the real hero." Hal lightly claps him on the back. He still jumps a little at that, but he seems to be getting more used to it. 

The sun has started setting, and it's significantly darker by the time they arrive at the store, with its distinctive blue and yellow lit up sign and bold letters. The white fluorescent lights shine out from the windows, reflecting on the few cars in the car park. 

Hal pulls the glass door open for Daphne. "Ladies first." 

He also lets Barry go through before him. The shop isn't all that busy, just a few people browsing what's on offer. There are shelves upon shelves filled with movies of all genres, and Video Killed The Radio Star by The Buggles crackles through the sound system throughout rather appropriately. The whole place smells like buttery popcorn.

Hal immediately races towards the 'T' section, praying that Top Gun hasn't already been rented.  Relief washes over him when he spots what he's looking for, picking up the box and triumphantly holding it above his head. "Yes!!!"

A couple of eyes land on him judgementally, but he couldn't give a flying fuck, because he's holding a copy of the best movie ever. Well, the case of it, anyway. Daphne giggles at him and Barry rolls his eyes, but smiles, browsing the 'S' section. 

"Is it there? Hal asks, hurrying over to him, clutching his own box tightly. 

"No." Barry frowns. "I think someone else is renting it out." 

"Aw. Well maybe we could get another one. Like Wrath of Khan , or The Search For Spock . Or...we could watch Top Gun twice."

Barry raises an eyebrow at him. Daphne then taps them both on the shoulder. "Look what I found!"

She holds up a pinkish case with a picture of Patrick Swayze and Jennifer Grey on it. 

"... Dirty Dancing ?" Hal asks. "I mean, no offence, Daph..."

"Don't knock it till you try it. Dirty Dancing is really good! Isn't it, Barry?"

Barry rubs the back of his neck. "Yeah. Uh, the music in it is good."

That checks. Hal recalls seeing the soundtrack amongst Barry's cassette collection.

"We went to go see it when it came out. Though Barry missed some of it because he went to the bathroom." Daphne tells Hal, passing the box to him. He takes it and reads the description on the back.

"Alright. But we watch Top Gun first."

"Of course." Daphne agrees, smiling and taking the case back from him. 

Movies selected, they grab some snacks and take everything to the counter. The girl working there locates the correct tapes out back and puts them into the cases. "These movies are pretty popular. You were lucky to get your hands on them." 

They agree to split the cost evenly three ways, and once they've paid they start back towards the house. It's almost completely dark when they get there, which Hal considers perfect movie night conditions. 

Barry puts the pizzas on and sets the little cooking timer so he doesn't forget about them - he has a habit of letting things get burned. Hal is tasked with arranging the snacks on the coffee table in the living room. Daphne uses the phone in the hallway to call her dad and let him know where she is. Hal chuckles when he hears her lie. "Yes, Darryl is here, Dad."

Hal is absolutely itching to get started, but decides to wait until the pizzas are done so they won't have to pause the movie. It's best enjoyed uninterrupted, and fuck knows how many times he's had to stop and start it while watching in case his mom saw. 

The pizzas are finally finished, cut up, and placed on the table alongside everything else. Hal cracks open the VHS case, crouching down. He carefully pulls out the tape, which has a 'rental - not for resale' sticker on it, and puts it into the VCR player under the TV. 

It fails to go in, and he sighs in annoyance. "I can never put these in right first time."

"There's arrows on it." Barry unhelpfully offers. 

"No, duh." Hal turns the tape around and it slots in. He rushes back to the couch and sits next to Barry, who's found himself in the middle.

Whoever last had the tape thankfully rewound it before returning it - there's nothing worse than having to watch the whole movie backwards at super speed before you can watch it properly. A familiar Diet Pepsi commercial featuring fighter pilots plays first. 

"Did you know Top Gun was one of the first affordable VHS tapes because Pepsi paid to put this on it? It lowered the cost so people could buy it to own rather than just renting it." Hal tells them. 

"Oh yeah?" Daphne asks. 

"Yeah. I had a copy, till my mom taped Full House over it." He says sourly. He can still remember the horror when he put in the tape for the last time and didn't see the Pepsi commercial.

"Maybe it was an accident?" Barry suggests.

"Oh, it was no accident."

The Paramount logo appears on screen and the distinctive theme music starts playing. The message explaining what Top Gun means comes up, but he doesn't have to read it. He knows exactly what it says word for word. He could probably recite the whole film from memory if he really tried. 

"On March 3, 1969, the United States Navy established an elite school for the top one percent of its pilots. Its purpose was to teach the lost art of aerial combat and to ensure that the handful of men who graduated were the best fighter pilots in the world.

Today, the Navy calls it Fighter Weapons School. The flyers call it:

TOP GUN."

Hal is convinced it's the best movie opening of all time. The way the suspense builds as they prepare for take off on the sunset-lit flight deck of an aircraft carrier is unmatched. Danger Zone by Kenny Loggins plays (for the first time out of three throughout the film) as the jets take off and he can't help the grin that spreads across his face. He loves this movie.

Hal glances at Barry every once and a while to see how he's reacting to it. He really wants him to like it. He has to.

Much like with the Star Trek episode earlier, he mainly likes the aircraft - and my god is there some beautiful shots of them in it - but there's also a lot of homoeroticism in the film. Surprising, considering it's basically a feature length recruitment ad. A good recruitment ad, but a recruitment ad nonetheless. A few times when he left the theatre after seeing it there were Navy guys with sign up forms waiting outside. It almost made him rethink the Air Force and become a Navy pilot instead, but he'd rather follow in his dad's footsteps. 

Anyway, Cruise's character, Maverick, and Val Kilmer's character, Iceman, exchange some very heated looks throughout. In their first scene together they're practically eye fucking. All that rivalry in the air seems to fuel sexual tension on the ground.

In the bar scene Maverick's best friend Goose makes a $20 bet with Maverick to attain "carnal knowledge - of a lady this time," which Hal takes as a confirmation of Mav's bisexuality. It's a subtle hint that Maverick has fooled around with guys. 

Of course, he doesn't point this out to the others.

Kelly McGillis is smoking hot, and her character, Charlie, is cool, but there's no chemistry between her and Cruise. He does voice the chemistry issue to Daphne, who he thinks will appreciate it, being an actress. She agrees. 

"They're a beautiful couple, but I couldn't see her actually being in love with him." 

"Ice and Mav would make a better couple, honestly." Hal says, laughing so it sounds like a joke rather than a very serious and sincere opinion. 

"But they don't let gay people join the military. Anyway, they're not even friends. Not until the end, at least." Aaaand he's lost her. Oh well. 

He covers Barry's ears, deciding to manoeuvre the conversation away from the matter. "Hey, no spoilers!"

"...What do you mean Iceman and Maverick would be a good couple?" Barry asks. 

"I dunno man. Just - forget I said it." If he explains himself any more it will reveal just how much time he's spent thinking about it. Fantasising about it. 

The infamous volleyball scene starts and Hal grins. The whole damn film is homoerotic, but this scene just takes the cake. He glances across at his friends. Daphne predictably has her eyes glued to the many fine, shirtless men slathered in baby oil. Barry is also paying attention. Could just be because he hasn't seen the movie before, but it's interesting.

After such a fruity game of volleyball, Maverick has to go meet Charlie and reaffirm his attraction to women. When Charlie finally confesses her feelings she has the most dead look in her eyes. There's a sex scene then, which Hal knows was only added in after the test audiences said there wasn't enough moments between Mav and Charlie. The elevator scene of the two of them was also added later. Still, it doesn't detract much. As far as Hal is concerned it's still the best movie ever. 

Once it's over Hal and Daphne both look at Barry, anticipating his reaction.

"Well? What did you think?" Hal asks. 

"It...it's not what I expected."

"The fuck does that mean?" 

"It was very good! Don't get me wrong." Barry says, putting his hands up in defence. "It was definitely very...you."

"Good." Hal sits back and crosses his arms. 

Daphne grins and gets up from the couch, grabbing the second movie. "And now, Dirty Dancing! " 

Hal had almost forgotten about it, still riding the Top Gun high. Well, he got his movie, it's only fair she gets hers. He leans back on the couch with his arms folded and goes into the film expecting to be bored out of his mind. Some romance movie set in the sixties, centered on dancing? Yawn . But it takes him by surprise. It's much more complex than he thought it would be. He finds himself invested - not that he'd admit it.

And hot damn , Patrick Swayze knows how to work his hips. Cynthia Rhodes certainly catches his eye, though he can't say the same for Jennifer Grey, having previously only known her as Ferris Bueller's mean older sister (a character that reminded him too much of Jack).

Jennifer Grey's character, 'Baby,' reminds him of Barry, a little bit. Child of a doctor. Kind of awkward and innocent. A do-gooder who tries their best to help. Baby is determined to go off to college, join the Peace Corps and change the world for the better, in much the same way Barry wants to make things better through working as a scientist, albeit on a smaller scale. 

And he finds he likes Swayze's character, Johnny, too. He's a dancer from a poor background who worked hard to get where he's at, and still he's not entirely welcome in the elitist world the guests of the Catskills resort inhabit. In one scene, Baby asks how many women he's been with, and he talks about all the wives staying at the resort during the week while their husbands work.

"-And they're so rich, they're so goddamn rich, you think they must know about everything. And they're slipping their room keys in my hands, two and three times a day, different women. So, here I think I'm scoring big, right? And for a while, you think, hey, they wouldn't be doing this if they didn't care about me, right?"

"That-that's alright, I understand. You were just using them, that's all." Baby assumes. 

He shakes his head. " No, no that's not it. That's the thing, Baby, see it wasn't like that. They were using me ."

Hal's never seen a male character in anything talk like that, and it strikes him. Johnny makes it clear that he likes sex, but is also aware that people are taking advantage of him due to his lower social status.

Much like people take advantage of Hal's age. 

He knows they do, deep down. But he rarely dwells on it, because it makes him feel like some kind of victim. He's not a victim, damnit. He chooses to go out to that beach and find strange men to sleep with. So he can't be a victim, right?

Just don't think about it, he reminds himself.

At some point the phone starts ringing in the hallway and they reluctantly pause the movie. Barry goes out to answer it. Hal and Daphne not so subtly listen in. 

"Oh, hello Mrs Jordan." They hear him greet her politely. Hal groans and sinks further into the couch.

"Your mom?" Daphne whispers. He nods. 

"Yes, this is Barry. Yes, he's here. Hold on, I'll get him. Nice talking to you."

Barry's head appears in the doorway, holding out the phone, cord stretched. "It's your mom."

Hal sighs and gets up. He grabs the phone and takes it back into the hallway. He leans against the wood panelled wall. "Hi mom."

"Hal. You're in? On a Saturday night?"

"Well I'm here to answer the phone, aren't I? We're watching a movie." He knows why she's surprised - he's almost always out on Saturday nights, and frequently not back till Sunday mornings. He doesn't, of course, mention that he was out last night.

His mom decides to ignore his snark this time. "How was school this week?"

"It was school. Is Jim there?"

"No, he's staying at a friend's house tonight." So she has the house to herself. Lucky her. "Barry was very polite. Nice boy."

"Yeah, that's the Midwestern charm."

"You might learn a thing or two from him." Hal rolls his eyes at that. 

"Did you call me just to lecture me? Because if so, I'd rather get back to the movie."

She sighs. "Goodnight, Hal."

"Yeah, night." He hangs up, and stares at the phone for a few seconds, running a hand through his hair. That was mean of him. Fuck. She just wanted to check in, right? Calls from California are expensive. 

It's her fault it has to be a long distance call in the first place, but still.

He rejoins Barry and Daphne, who look at him oddly after such a brief call, but he says nothing. They press play again. He tries his best to focus on the movie, but mostly he just feels like shit. 

When the infamous 'nobody puts baby in a corner' line is said, the other two say it in sync with Johnny and laugh. The ending is cheesy, but Hal secretly enjoys it. He briefly wonders if he could lift a girl into the air like that. It would be pretty gnarly. 

Once the movie finishes Barry and Daphne look at him expectedly. He shrugs nonchalantly.  "Yeah, it was alright."

"Oh, I think you enjoyed it." Daphne says. She gets up and pokes him teasingly, then grabs a few of the plates and bowls from the table. "Why don't we take these into the kitchen while Barry rewinds the tapes?"

Huh. Interesting. Hal takes the rest and they go into the kitchen, leaving Barry in the living room. He wonders what she's up to. 

She turns on the radio, for some background noise. Or maybe to disguise whatever she's going to say. They start quietly doing the dishes as 'How Will I Know' by Whitney Houston plays. She washes and he dries them. 

After a minute she finally speaks. "Hal, can I confide something in you?"

"Sure. I'm pretty good at keeping secrets." Usually his own. 

"I…" She glances over her shoulder to make sure Barry's not there, and avoids Hal's eyes. "I kind of have a crush on him."

"Really? I couldn't tell." Hal says, voice dripping with sarcasm. 

"Is it that obvious?" 

"To everyone but him, yeah." 

"Oh." Her cheeks flush pink. "You see, I was hoping last night the alcohol might give me the courage to tell him, but...well. You know how that turned out."

Hal hums thoughtfully and holds his index finger to his thumb. "I think you went just a little overboard on the liquid courage." 

"My memory is kind of patchy, but right before I went to sleep...he kissed me. I think."

Hal can feel his eyebrows involuntarily shoot up. "He kissed you?" 

He didn't think Barry was the kind of guy who'd go kissing pretty girls much drunker than him. Hal doesn't even do that.

"Well, not on the lips. On the forehead." She says, pointing to her temple and blushing. "A goodnight kiss. It was so sweet...but I'm not sure if it was real or just a dream." 

Ah, that makes more sense. Well, isn't he a sweetheart?

"You want me to ask him? I can do it subtly." He offers, wiping one of the plates dry.

"Would you? That would be amazing."

"Sure." Hal says. "Yknow, I could be a wingman for both of you. I've been told I'm quite good at it."

She slowly nods. "What if...what if I tried to make him jealous? Do you think that would work?" 

Hal leans against the counter. "It could."

"Would you help?"

"In what way?"

Her green eyes are suddenly cunning, and it's like Hal's seeing a whole other side to her he didn't know existed. "We could pretend to date." 

Well, there's an idea. Hal said he wasn't looking for a relationship, but a fake one might be alright. Provided he can still screw around on the down low. What's the harm? He shrugs.

"Alright. What are the terms?"

"Terms?"

"Y'know. These kinds of things have rules, don't they? Like how much public making out is allowed and stuff."

Daphne considers this for a few moments. "How about we both write down our own rules and compare on Monday?"

"Yeah, okay. Now what's our story? Like, why are we suddenly together?"

"How about...we kissed in the kitchen after a movie night?" She says, passing him the last plate. Daphne then pulls herself up onto the kitchen counter to sit there. She takes out some chapstick and reapplies it.

"So right now?" Hal asks, drying the plate off. He puts it into the cupboard.

"Yep." She says, popping the 'P.'

He briefly thinks of Johnny, and how he was used. But if you know you're being used, and consent to it, you're not really being used, right? Besides, he could use this to gain social credit. It's a win win. So they're using each other.

"Okay. You want me to kiss you?" She nods, and Hal moves closer, standing between her knees. He's about to kiss her, but then pulls back and asks, "You kissed anyone before?"

"I have, don't worry. I know what I'm doing."

"Alright." He figures she's probably had to kiss someone on stage before. Leading lady and all that.

Hal tilts his head and leans in. She tilts hers the other way, and their lips meet in the middle. It's chaste, not at all like the hungry kisses he shared with Michael last night. After only a few seconds they part again, and Hal swipes his tongue out to taste the lip balm, which is now on his own lips. Cola flavoured, he thinks. 

"He should be nearly done with those tapes." Hal says quietly. "He'll probably come in here."

"Exactly." She reaches up and cups the back of his head, pulling him into another kiss. He goes along with it, and after a few seconds decides to risk some tongue. She's receptive to it, and then they're french kissing. She combs her fingers through his hair, nails scratching just the slightest bit. She does know what she's doing. 

He has to remind himself that he can't enjoy this too much. He doubts she'd be too impressed if he popped a boner, so he lets his mind wander a bit.

His breath probably sucks after the pizza and chips, but she was also eating them, so neither can really complain. He wonders how many guys in their school would love to be where he is right now, even if it is just an act. Hmm. This is probably going to piss Lance off big time. Whatever. He'll worry about that later.

"Everything always seems funnier backwards-" Hal hears Barry come into the kitchen behind him. 

He and Daphne part again to glance in his direction, and act surprised like they didn't expect him to walk in. Barry stands in the doorway holding the VHS cases, mouth open and gaping like a fish. His cheeks flush red under the warm yellow light of the room.

"I - I'm sorry. I didn't mean to - I'll just…" He points towards the door. "Yeah."

He hurries out, and Hal looks back at Daphne. "Well, goal accomplished."

He holds up his hand for a high five and she obliges. 

"You're a good kisser." She compliments.

"Thanks. You're not bad either."

They rejoin Barry in the living room, finding him flicking through channels, curled into one corner of the couch. He still seems quite flustered, which Hal thinks he should take as a good sign.

"It's getting pretty late. Tonight was really fun, we should definitely do this again." Daphne says.

"Yeah, definitely." Barry says with a nod, but he doesn't sound completely present.

Daphne makes a point of asking Hal to walk her home, and he accepts. Daphne says goodbye, and both put on their jackets again. Hal gives Barry one last glance through the living room door before they leave, and sees him fiddling with the tv remote, sliding the battery cover on and off. He feels kind of bad, but this will be good for him in the long run, right? How awesome would it be if Hal managed to get him together with his best friend, and the hottest girl in school, before he leaves? Barry totally deserves that.

As they pass by all the surrounding houses Hal asks Daphne how long she's liked Barry.

"Oh...I think I've always liked him. There were other boys here and there, but he was always in the back of my mind. He's just so sweet, and gentle. Smart too. I wish other people could see the Barry I do." She gushes, hands in her pockets.

"Barry's a good guy. I mean, I've only known him a week, but I'd definitely call him a friend."

"You have no idea how happy I am to hear that." Daphne tells him. "I worry about him a lot. I mean, he was always kind of shy, but he really retreated in on himself after...well, I'm sure you probably know the story by now."

"Yeah, I do. It was nice of you to stick by him. Respect." 

"Thanks for giving him a chance, Hal. I think he's a lot happier with you around." 

He takes her to her driveway, and waits to make sure she gets in the door safely. He walks back then on his own, wondering what kinds of rules he wants for this little arrangement.

He's nearing Darryl's house when he starts considering walking past it. His mom was right about him rarely staying in on a Saturday night. He's got his wallet in his pocket. He could get a bus into the city, check out the nightlife. Might even be able to sneak into a club if he finds a lenient bouncer. He's got a fake ID that he hasn't used much, and Darryl won't be back till later. Barry might assume he's hanging out with Daphne. It's awfully tempting.

Despite those thoughts, he turns into the driveway and goes back inside. He doesn't much feel like going out. Some other night maybe. Tonight he guesses he's proving his mom wrong. 

He finds Barry in the bedroom upstairs, already wearing pyjamas and lying on his bed. He's got a record on, playing a song Hal doesn't recognise. 

"Hey." He greets, shucking off his jacket and hanging it up. 

"Hi." Barry replies, a beat or two slower than what might be deemed socially acceptable. 

"What album is that?" Hal asks as one song finishes and the next starts. 

"Kate Bush, The Whole Story ." Barry passes him the sleeve. It looks like a compilation album. "This song is Cloudbusting . I've always kind of liked it."

Hal flops down onto his mattress and they both quietly listen to the song. He can't really tell what it's about. Something about yo yos? Maybe it's one of those songs you have to listen to a few times, or only get after seeing the artist give an interview explaining it on MTV.

On top of the world

Looking over the edge

You could see them coming

You looked too small

In their big black car

To be a threat to the men in power

I hid my yo-yo

In the garden

I can't hide you

From the government

Oh, God, Daddy

I won't forget

Barry clears his throat. "You and Daphne...?" 

"Uh, yeah. We were talking and it just...happened, y'know? She's a cool girl." 

"I thought you said you weren't looking for a relationship?"

Hal folds his arms behind his head. "Dunno. Maybe I've changed my mind. I mean, not many girls have climbed a tree for me." 

"You were with someone else last night." Barry points out. 

"Yeah, I was. But it was just a hookup, y'know?"

He doesn't respond. Neither of them are in the mood to talk much, clearly. Hal gets up and grabs the rubix cube from Barry's bedside table, deciding to give it another try. Barry picks up a book, some old sci-fi novel, they silently listen to the music. It's not the kind of thing Hal usually listens to, and it's a bit weird, but not bad.

"Just...don't break her heart, okay?" Barry finally says.

"I won't." 

According to the album sleeve, the song now playing is called Army Dreamers. From what Hal can understand of the lyrics with the singer's accent, it's about a mother and her son, who has been killed at war.

Our little army boy

Is coming home from B.F.P.O.

I've a bunch of purple flowers

To decorate mammy's hero

Mourning in the aerodrome

The weather warmer, he is colder

Four men in uniform

To carry home my little soldier

He's pretty confident he won't break Daphne's heart. He can't break it if he doesn't have it in the first place. As much as it hurts, the only heart he plans on breaking is his mom's. More than he already has, anyway. 

Chapter Text

On Monday morning Hal notices people staring at him. Which is not all that different to last Monday, really, but he didn't think the novelty of him would last this long. He leans over to Barry in their homeroom class to see if he can get to the bottom of it.

"I know I'm the hot new kid and all, but it's been a week. Why is everyone still looking at me?"

"C'mon Hal, we all know you got a blowjob at Amanda's party." Aaron butts in. His smirk is worrying. 

How do they know? And do they know know? Hal shifts in his chair. No. They couldn't. Whatever you do, don't look at Michael. Don't look at Michael. Don't look -

"Yeah, Matt was on the roof. He saw you, but not the girl. Counter was in the way or some shit." Chris adds. 

"Yeah, spill the beans, Jordan. Who was it?" 

He almost breathes a sigh of relief. They don't know. Thank fuck. He shouldn't have worried - if they knew who it was he probably would have had at least five different slurs shouted in his direction this morning. 

Hal leans back in his chair and puts on a grin. "I'd tell you, but then I'd have to kill you." 

He glances at Barry, hoping he got the Top Gun reference. It would be better with his sunglasses, but it's cloudy today, so he didn't bring them. 

"C'mon man. Matt said you looked like you were fucking ascending. She must have been good." Chris says. Hal rolls his eyes.

"Matt was fucked up on rum and coke. Besides, I don't kiss and tell."

Daphne comes in then, and she gives him a smile as she passes, on the way to her own desk. He returns it. Barry seems to notice this exchange, and so does everyone else.

Chris gets up and rushes over to crouch next to his desk and quietly hiss. " Dude . No way." 

"Nah. Not her. But uh, my chances are looking good." He tells him nonchalantly.

"Lance will kill you, man. He's called dibs."

"Fuck Lance. If Daphne likes me instead of him he'll just have to deal." 

Mrs Kershaw comes in then and they start the usual morning routine of roll call, announcements and the Pledge. After class, Daphne takes his arm in the hallway. 

"Sorry, Barry. Can I borrow Hal for a minute?"

Barry looks between them, clutching the straps of his bag. His face is unreadable. "Uh, yeah. Sure."

"I'll meet you in math class." Hal assures him as Daphne drags him away.

They stop in an empty doorway. Hal leans against the frame and looks down at her. She's wearing a denim jacket today, and an oversized green polo shirt tucked into her jeans.

"Alright, so we don't have much time right now, but have you written a list?" She asks. 

"Yeah." He wrote it out yesterday at breakfast, before Barry woke up.

"Great. Can we meet up properly later to discuss it? At breaktime maybe?"

"Sure."

"See you at the bleachers then?"

"Yeah." He bends down and gives her a quick kiss on the cheek. "See you later."

Hal winks and then goes to math class, confident that a couple of people saw that little move. The rumours about him and Daphne are no doubt already spreading. Maybe people will forget about the blowjob thing. He hopes they do. The less people examine that event, the better. 

He sits in the same seat as last week, and looks over at Amanda. She's inspecting her nails, and doesn't so much as acknowledge his arrival. Shit. He'd almost forgotten about that. 

Their teacher comes in and asks them to take out their textbooks. It dawns on Hal that he had been relying on Amanda to share hers with him, and Barry is sitting a few rows ahead, so he can't ask him. 

He sighs and puts his hand up. "I don't have a book."

"And why not?" The teacher gives him an unimpressed look. The whole class is staring at him.

"Haven't had the chance to get my own one yet." 

Their teacher rolls her eyes at him. "You've had over a week to get the proper supplies, Mr Jordan."

She goes to the cupboard and takes out her spare copy, then walks down to drop it on his desk with a loud thump. "Have your own book next time. Give this back at the end of class."

"Thanks."

After class he rejoins Barry and they walk down the hall together. "I guess Amanda isn't sharing with you anymore?"

"No. But I should probably get my own book anyway. I'll need one for Spanish, too." Amanda had generously shared hers in that class too, and Barry doesn't take the subject, so he's kind of screwed.

"We can try the library at breaktime. It might not be too late to check out the rental scheme." Barry helpfully suggests, and Hal is about to agree, when he remembers his 'date.'

"Oh...can we check at lunch instead? I'm meeting Daphne then." He rubs the back of his neck. 

"Oh. Okay. Sure, that's fine. Lunchtime it is." Barry says, plastering on a smile.

Hal feels another pang of guilt, but pushes it away. This will work out in the long run. 

Daphne finds him at the bleachers at their arranged time, and as soon as she sits down she pulls out her notebook. The cover is decorated with pictures of famous actors and actresses, some current ones - Tom Cruise, Julia Roberts, Patrick Swayze, Molly Ringwald, Michelle Pfeiffer, Michael J Fox - and a few older ones that Hal recognises, like Audrey Hepburn, James Dean, Bette Davis and Marilyn Monroe. 

She opens up the page with her neatly written list and passes it to him. He takes his own folded up and crinkled sheet out of his pocket and gives it to her. 

Her demands are fair enough, pretty much what he expected. They don't tell anyone the relationship is fake, they only have to kiss in public, and they're not going to have sex. He thinks his demands are pretty fair too. No cheesy pet names, no weird matching clothes (or similarly embarrassing things), and -

"Hold on. You want to keep seeing someone else?" She narrows her eyes at him sceptically, looking up from his list.

"Not seeing . Just hookups. We'll be discreet about it, don't worry. Nobody will know." 

She huffs, raising a neatly shaped and sceptical brow. "You sure were discreet on Friday night." 

"Yeah well, Matt walking around on the fucking roof was an unexpected variable." Hal says, leaning back and stretching out his legs. He crosses his arms. "I mean, it's not like we're going to be having sex. I need an outlet for all my raging hormones or whatever."

She purses her lips for a few moments, then gives in. "Alright. But tell me - who was it? On Friday?"

He shakes his head. "No can do. I promised I wouldn't tell."

"No-one?"

"You're a girl, Daph, you know how it is. If I spill the beans, the attention shifts away from praising me to calling her a slut," he laughs, "And if anyone's a slut, it's me." 

She tilts her head at him with interest. "Never knew guys saw the double standard."

"Most don't." 

There's things you tend to notice as a bi guy that straight guys don't. When you've got some guys treating you like some guys treat girls, you become all too aware of the double standard. 

"How many girls have you been with Hal?" Daphne asks, sounding both intrigued and disdained at the same time.

"That's...a good question. Ten, maybe?" He's been with more guys than girls, now that he thinks of it. "Wait a sec, are we talking going all the way or just kissing? Because if so, it's more."

Daphne scoffs in disbelief. "Shut up . You have not."

He shrugs. "I have. I've got serious game back home."

"What about saving yourself for someone special?" She asks. He rolls his eyes.

"That's archaic. And it's a bit late for that, for me. But you'll be happy to know that Barry feels the same way."

"He does?" She perks up, eyes almost sparkling.

"Yeah. You're both saps." 

Daphne smiles, holding her notebook to her chest and staring dreamily across the football field for a few moments. "God, he's just perfect."

She has it bad . 

"I dunno if I'd say that, but yeah, you could do worse." 

Barry has his flaws for sure - he struggles to talk to people, he says weird things in his sleep, he has almost no temporal awareness, he's forgetful, he's uptight, he blushes at the mere sight of a wrapped condom and he's got a shit ton of childhood trauma. He's also kind, gentle, intelligent, and far more forgiving of Hal's bullshit than he should be. 

"Well, I know he's not actually perfect. I've known him for years, remember? But he's boyfriend material, y'know? And Friday night really cemented that fact."

Like Hal had told him - Barry is the kind of guy girls want to marry. Smart, stable and sensible. Hal's more suited to being that mind blowing one night stand she might think of on her fifth wedding anniversary. A What If. 

"He's one to bring home to your parents, that's for sure," Hal huffs out a laugh, "I think my mom likes him more than she likes me, and he only spoke to her for a minute." 

"You don't mean that." 

"Whatever. Break's almost over." Not diving into that right now. He gets up and grabs his bag, slinging it over his shoulder. He offers her his hand, and she takes it, grabbing her own bag with the other. Once they make their way down the steps Hal puts his arm around her - might as well sell the whole couple thing.

"This alright?"

"Perfect." She confirms, and they start to walk back towards the building like that. A picture perfect high school couple, aside from it being a farce, of course.

"Did Barry say anything to you on Saturday night after he saw us kissing?"

"He told me not to break your heart." 

"Really?" Daphne asks, and she gets that mushy look on her face again.

"Yeah. I didn't get the chance to ask him if he kissed you on Friday night though, sorry."

She waves her hand dismissively. "It's alright. By the way, are you responsible for Barry reeking of Axe on Friday night?" Daphne asks. 

"Yeah. Good right?"

"No."

"No?"

"I recommend investing in a proper cologne."

"Y'know you're not actually my girlfriend right?"

"I'm just saying." She shrugs. 

Hal laughs. "Alright. Don't give Barry any more Axe, got it."

After visiting his locker, Barry's not sure what to do with the rest of his break time. He wonders where Daphne and Hal are as he sits on one of the comfy chairs in the senior lounge, munching on a bar from the vending machine and trying to get started on some assigned reading. He's never really gone in here on his own, worried he'll get kicked out, even though he has every right to be here. His brain still hasn't fully accepted the fact that he's a senior. Heck, he's been seventeen for months now, and his brain is convinced he's still fifteen. Maybe that's why he's so reluctant to get his driving permit.

His mind keeps circling back to Saturday night, and walking in on Daphne and Hal making out in the kitchen. It's been playing on repeat constantly. 

He's still trying to figure out how that happened. Hal had been trying to tell him all week that Daphne liked him, and as soon as Barry had started to believe him, Hal went and kissed her. Or maybe she kissed him? Hal had expressed some mild interest in her, sure, and Daphne had said Hal was good-looking that day at the lake, but it still shocked him. 

He supposes he doesn't have to worry about Daphne liking him anymore, but why Hal of all people? Why not some other boy? Now his only two friends are probably going to spend more time with each other than with him.

He supposes he can't exactly blame Daphne, especially considering he likes Hal too. Barry would choose Hal over himself any day.

He can't help but feel disheartened. It's not like he ever even had a chance with Hal, he knows that. But it still hurts. 

His thoughts are interrupted by a looming presence above him, and then his school bag is kicked, sending it sliding across the floor. He watches it go with a sigh, staring at it for a moment when it hits the wall and stops, then looks up, already knowing who it is.

"Is your bodyguard not with you?" Lance asks, smirking down at him. It takes Barry a few moments to realise he's referring to Hal. Bodyguard is better than boyfriend, he supposes. Lance has also made that joke.

"He's not my...um...Hal's hanging out with Daphne." He tells him, hoping Lance will just go away. He's got enough on his mind right now.

"Oh, Is he now?" Lance sneers. "Where?"

"I don't know."

"I guess Daphne finally got some sense and ditched you. But she should be with me ." Lance says. He snatches what's left of Barry's bar and takes a bite of it. 

"That fucking bitch stealer." He mutters while chewing and striding his way out of the senior lounge.

"Snack stealer." Barry mutters to himself. He catches another loud antisemitic insult from Lance before he's out of ear shot. One or two others turn their head at that, but for the most part people pay him no heed.

Barry sinks down in his chair, off put by Lance and his remarks, yet relieved. That could have been worse. However, Hal could be in for trouble now. He hopes he can warn him before Lance finds him.

Barry gets up and fetches his bag, then leaves. 

He thankfully manages to get to Hal first, but stops in his tracks when he sees him with his arm around Daphne, walking across the grass. They're laughing about something. 

An ugly part of him tells him to turn around and forget about warning Hal, so he can go to the bathroom, lock himself in a cubicle and wallow in misery until he has to run to his next class and arrive three minutes late. He hesitates for a few seconds, but then awkwardly jogs out to meet his friends. 

"Uh, hi. I have some bad news." 

"You do? What is it?" Daphne asks, slipping out from under Hal's arm.

"Lance is looking for Hal, and he's...well, he's not in a good mood."

Brown eyes roll upwards, and Hal looks more irritated than concerned. "I figured he might be. I can handle him, though. Don't worry."

He pats Barry on the shoulder, "Thanks for the heads up. C'mon, before we're late again."

"See you later." Daphne says to them both, and Hal smiles back at her. Barry feels that ugly twist in his chest again. 

Why can't he just be happy for them? Jealousy makes him feel like a terrible person. 

Hal puts an arm around Barry then as they walk, and he feels slightly better. He's started getting used to the familiar weight of it across his shoulders. As much as he hates Lance's teasing, he does have a point about the whole bodyguard thing. He does feel safer when Hal's around. People are less likely to openly be mean to him when they know Hal will call them out, or show his distaste for it. They want Hal to like them.

"So what's that asshole saying now?" Hal asks him as they make their way through the corridor. 

"He uh...well he…"

"Something about me and Daphne?"

"Yeah." Barry wonders if he should mention the antisemitic remarks too, but he doesn't want to repeat them. Hal doesn't need to hear that.

"He can shove it. He give you any trouble?"

"Nothing much. Stole my snack bar."

"What a dick."

At lunchtime on Wednesday the first casting list for Grease is posted on the drama club notice board, outlining who got the main roles. People crowd around it, and Daphne dashes away from the two boys when she sees what's going on, forgetting about going into the cafeteria. They follow her over, albeit not as hastily.

Barry doesn't believe in luck - as his mom always said, luck is just preparation meeting opportunity, and Daphne has prepared plenty. Even so, he crosses his fingers for her.

"Hey, let her through!" Hal says over everyone as Daphne tries to push her way towards the board. All Barry can see is the golden top of her head, but he hears her gasp of delight. 

"I got the part! I'm gonna be Sandy!" She bursts out from the crowd again and right into Barry, throwing her arms around him. He stumbles back, taken by surprise, but grins. 

"You're going to be a great Sandy." He tells her, hugging her back. 

"Better get working on that Australian accent." Hal quips.

Daphne looks up at him, like she's suddenly remembered something important. She steps away from Barry and pokes Hal in the chest, face suddenly mischievous. "How did you know Sandy was Australian?"

Hal's mouth drops open. "Uh. Is that not common knowledge?"

"I was going to say we should rent Grease and watch it together, but I guess you've already seen it." 

"I - my mom was watching it one night. I wasn't like, actively watching it. I only saw a scene or two." He says, and they can't help but laugh at him trying to excuse his knowledge of the musical. 

"We could still rent it if you want to do another movie night? It would probably help with getting into character." Barry suggests. 

"We can also get your Star Trek movie if it's there. The whale one, right?" Daphne says, and he nods. She clasps her hands together. "Great! Friday night, my place?"

"It's a date." Hal agrees.

Even though Daphne suggested renting Star Trek for him too, Barry suddenly feels more like a third wheel. His brain panics, and tells him he needs to get out of this. "Actually, If you two want to watch it together that's okay, the science fair is only a couple of weeks away, and I still have a lot of work to do on my project."

Daphne glances at Hal and then looks back at him. "But you're the one who suggested the group movie night in the first place."

Barry puts his hands up and speaks in a voice that's probably far too cheery. "It's alright! I have to figure out the best chart to display my data. I've been putting it off."

"If you're sure." Hal says. 

He nods. "Yeah, one hundred percent! Can we go to the cafeteria now? I'm pretty hungry."

Barry rushes off. That was half true. He is hungry. However, he doesn't think he is one hundred percent okay with them having movie night without him. What right has he to be upset about it though? They didn't exclude him. He did. 

God, why did he do that? Sometimes Barry thinks he bullies himself as much as other people do.

Chapter Text

On Friday afternoon as they walk out of the school, Hal asks Barry if he's sure about not joining them one last time. He hopes he'll say he's changed his mind, but just like every other time he and Daphne have asked, Barry brushes it off.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Uh, I have to go, I don't want to miss the bus. Have fun!" 

He hurries away, blond head mixing into the crowd. Hal knows he's just pretending to be okay with it - Barry's shit at lying. But that's the whole point isn't it? To make him feel jealous? 

Even though technically Barry's excusing himself, he still feels kind of bad about it. Daphne's cool, but he'd prefer if Barry was with them. 

Hal walks across the front lawn of the school towards the line of parked cars. Daphne is already there - far more punctual than he and Barry - talking to Tamara, who raises an amused eyebrow when she sees him coming.

"There you are. Barry not coming?" Daphne asks, looking around him just in case he's hiding behind Hal.

He shakes his head. "Nah. He's really playing up the science project thing." 

"Well, now you two won't have a third wheel." Tamara says, winking like Barry's absence is a good thing. "I've gotta go. See you Monday." 

Pretty much everyone knows by now that he and Daphne are 'an item.' He's never really dated anyone before, not since middle school, and those couldn't really be called relationships. It's definitely a new experience, even if it is fake.

He knows the basics of how to make it look good. He'll occasionally land paper planes on her desk when the teacher isn't looking, but the class (and Barry) is. They have notes written in them, and most of the time it's just Top Gun quotes. Nobody else knows that, because she smiles back at him like he's written her a poem. When he's not walking with Barry he's walking around with her. 

It all looks picture perfect. If only they knew Hal got off with Michael in the bathroom three times this week. 

People tease them in a good natured way, and occasionally he gets pats on the back from other guys. Lance has been casting him dirty looks all week, and has tossed a few remarks. There was a particularly memorable moment in workshop class where he glared at Hal while holding a saw, but he hasn't done anything Hal can't ignore yet. 

Amanda has thrown shade at both of them, which Daphne pretends not to care about. It's not as obvious as with Barry, because she's a good actress, but Hal knows she's upset about falling out with her. Even if she was a bitch. He asked her how long they had been friends, and Daphne said since seventh grade. She's no doubt got a lot of blackmail material should she choose to use it.

Tamara leaves them standing by the car. Hal shucks off his bag and tosses it in the back. "Hey, can I drive?"

"What, you don't want to be driven around by a girl?" 

"No, no. I'd let a pretty girl drive me around any day. It's just that...I've been taking the bus for the last two weeks, and before that my mom banned me from using her car. I'm itching to get behind a wheel."

"Why'd she ban you?" She asks, clearly suspicious of him.

"I was driving out to airfields to watch flights. And using it for uh...other things. I'm actually a very good driver." 

"Uh huh. Still no. You're riding shotgun." She opens the driver side door and slides in. 

"Fine." He sighs and sits in the passenger seat. "So….whaddya wanna do?"

She gives him an odd look. "What do you mean?"

"We're not actually going to watch Grease , are we?"

Daphne laughs at him and turns the key in the ignition. "Yep. We're going straight to Blockbuster."

"Y'know, I've got a fake ID. We could go clubbing."

She brushes off his suggestion, and they go to Blockbuster and rent Grease as planned. Hal checks just in case Top Gun is there again, but someone else got it first. After picking up some snacks, they go back to Daphne's house. 

She unlocks the front door. "My parents aren't home from work yet."

"What do your parents do?" Hal asks, stepping into the house behind her. Like Amanda's, it's bigger than Darryl's, but the interior decorating is less noteworthy. 

"Dad's an accountant. Mom's a doctor." 

"Oh, like Barry's dad."

"Uh...yeah. They used to be good friends. Barry and I moved to Central City at the same time because they were setting up a practice together." Daphne tells him, putting the keys into a dish by the door.

Barry hadn't mentioned that part of the story to him. 

"My bedroom's second on the right upstairs. Go on up. I'll get some bowls for the snacks."

"Have you got a TV in your room?" Hal asks, and she nods, walking in the direction of what Hal assumes is the kitchen. "That's cool."

It occurs to him that he's the odd man out here, when it comes to socio-economic class. Sure, Barry's living with Darryl now, but he probably grew up in a house as big as this one. Hal had to share a room with Jack while their dad was still in the Air Force, and didn't get his own room until he started working for Ferris. They just couldn't afford it. Having a TV in his room is one of those 'if I won the lottery' fantasies. 

Hal follows her directions and finds himself in a decently sized room, with pink floral wallpaper, large chunks of it covered with posters. There's a double bed with blue floral sheets. The TV and VCR player are right across from it. She's even got a phone on her bedside table. Yeah, he's definitely the odd man out.

He dumps his bag by the bed and walks around, taking a closer look at the posters. Duran Duran , nice. A few of Morten Harket from A-Ha . A Bananarama poster. Plenty of Madonna and Cyndi Lauper. Lots of old actors and actresses, like that collage on her notebook.

The large Cocktail poster catches his eye, and Tom Cruise features in many others. There's a few from Top Gun that he's very jealous of, especially an A4 size solo poster of Val Kilmer as Iceman, wearing those iconic mirrored shades and a flight suit. 

He's got a smaller version of that picture stuck in the back of his wardrobe. He'd cut it out of one of those teen magazines aimed towards girls. When buying it he had casually placed an issue of Playboy and an aviation magazine on top of it to soften the blow, and when the cashier looked at his unusual selection he'd said the celebrity one was for his sister. She didn't let him buy the Playboy, which was a pity, but he still got what he really wanted.

"You really are obsessed with Top Gun." He hears her remark, entering the room, and he instantly pulls away from the poster, hoping it didn't look like he was inspecting it too closely. 

"I've never really looked around a girl's room like this before." He admits. 

"Too busy doing 'other things?'" She asks, mimicking what he said earlier.

He grins. "Well, that and I don't have any sisters. Your parents won't mind me being in here?"

"Barry comes up here a lot. As long as the door is left a little bit open they don't mind." She tells him, sitting cross-legged on the bed and laying out the snacks.

"I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm not Barry." He can't imagine her parents feel all that threatened by him. 

"Well, we are just watching Grease. I'll say you're in the drama club. They'll just think you're gay." 

"Ha, yeah. Good plan." He says. He wonders if she'd be that blasé about it if she knew. "Can I sit on the bed too, or?"

"Well, where else would you sit? The floor?"

"Yeah, I guess?" 

"Just sit on the bed, Hal."

He does, but he keeps to his own side. He hasn't really had any female friends since elementary school. He doesn't think he could count Carol, because the last time they actually talked to each other it ended in making out. He rarely just hangs out one on one like this with no expectations. Actually, until he came here he rarely did any sort of one on one hanging out with anyone that wasn't somewhat sex related.

"Do you think it's working yet?" Daphne asks. 

"What?"

"The fake dating thing?"

"Uh...I dunno."

"Has he said anything to you?"

"No. He's just acting like he's happy for us. But really I think he's...I don't know. Kind of upset? He's too polite to say anything."

There's a niggling voice in the back of his head saying that it knows why Barry is acting the way he is, but he ignores it. 

"Maybe if we give it more time?" Daphne says. Hal shrugs.

She shuffles closer to him, a mischievous look in her eyes. "So...is there anyone you like? You know I like Barry, so it's only fair you tell me who you like."

"Nobody."

" C'mon . You have to like someone . Is there any girl in Cali that makes your heart race?"

Maybe he should just come up with something. He guesses Carol is probably the closest he's gotten to a crush lately. He had wanted to kiss her that night for reasons other than her being hot, although that was a contributing factor. He'd never talked to a girl who was interested in aircraft, and she knew as much as he did, maybe more. And of course, the shared trauma. 

"I dunno about heart racing, or butterflies and shit, but I guess there's one girl who's pretty cool." He says casually. Daphne's eyes light up.

"Oh! What's her name?"

"Carol Ferris. She's training to be a pilot. I'm kind of jealous of her, actually. Sort of ruins it. That and I hate her dad. Oh, and I'm stuck here till the holidays. So it's a non-runner." 

"Oh. That's a shame. Does her dad hate you too?"

"No. I think it's more of a one-sided deal." He thinks so anyway. Hal's avoided him for years. He must have noticed Hal sneaking around his airfield though. Carol spotted him a few times from a distance, and she told him as much. She's pretty sharp. 

"I wouldn't let that stop you. Oh! Maybe you could write her a letter?" She suggests, perking up.

He gives her a look. "What? No."

"Why not?"

"That's - no. Listen, last time I saw her we were both kind of drunk, we talked about some pretty unpleasant childhood shit and then we made out. Haven't talked to her since. That's all. She's probably got some rich boyfriend at her fancy private school who's set to inherit a company like she is, and has his own car. She wouldn't want anything to do with a guy like me."

Not to mention the fact that she's going to business school, and he doesn't even plan on finishing senior year. 

"I think you've got plenty to offer a girl."

"Well, there's a reason you like Barry and not me. Not that I want you to like me, I understand what our deal is here. But y'know. I'm not the kind of guy you actually date."

"I think you're doing a pretty good job at being my fake boyfriend." She says, poking him in the arm. "All my friends keep telling me so."

"Thanks, but it's not really the same." He folds his arms behind his head and leans against the headboard. "Whatever. I'm better off without someone anyway. I saw what worrying about my dad did to my mom, I wouldn't wish that on anyone." 

"So you're just...giving up on love?"

"Not giving up. Just...deciding to go without. And if you've got a musical number prepared to try to change my mind, I'd really rather not." 

"I don't, but I've got a bunch of romantic movies. Starting with this one." She holds up Grease . 

They put it on, though his attention frequently drifts from it. It's a long movie. Cheesy too, but Hal admits to laughing at some of the jokes. He wonders how many things the school will want to censor in their version. He often makes comments which veer off into completely unrelated conversations, most notably;

"Fucking idiot." Hal mutters, when Kenickie's years old condom breaks upon opening the packet, and he and Rizzo decide to have sex in his car anyway. "She gets pregnant, right?"

"I'm not spoiling it!"

"So that's a yes."

She shakes her head at him, then gives him a curious look. "Are you always careful? With that kind of thing?"

"Well yeah, duh." 

She smiles a little to herself, like she's trying not to laugh. 

"What?"

Daphne giggles. "I just remembered. When I was in the bathroom with Barry last Friday night he showed me a condom he took from you. A flavoured one." 

"He showed it to you? Jeez, earlier that day he couldn't even look at them himself. You should have seen how flustered he was in the pharmacy." He laughs. "It was kind of cute, really." He recalls how Barry had blushed and fidgeted while he'd browsed.

"Cute?"

"Well, you'd probably think it was cute. But he was willing to learn, and I gave him the low down on using them, so you don't have to worry about any of that if you two ever get there." He says, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Oh my god ." She mutters, putting her face in her hands. He can see her ears go pink. 

"Though he's pretty forgetful...hold on." He reaches into the pocket of his jacket and pulls out a little foil packet. She looks up. Her eyes widen in shock, then narrow in suspicion. 

"Why do you bring one?!" Daphne splutters. 

Hal puts up his hands and laughs. Okay, he can see how that looks bad. "Woah. Don't get your panties in a twist. I never leave home without one, that's why."

He holds it out across the bed to her. "In case he forgets to bring one. He's kind of a scatterbrain. You probably know that even better than me."

She stares at it between his fingers, face still red with embarrassment.

They hear footsteps coming up the stairs, and Daphne grabs it, then frantically shoves it under her pillow. Hal picks up a bowl of chips and when her mom opens the door it looks like they've innocently been watching Grease this whole time. Dr Dean - although Hal doubts she goes by her married name -  still does a double take when she sees him. 

"...Hello."

Her hair is a few shades darker, closer to auburn than the light ginger-blond of her daughter, and is cut into a stylish and professional pixie. Hal can see where Daphne gets her looks from.

He gives a little wave. They never really discussed whether or not her parents would be getting involved in this whole fake dating thing, and he really hopes not. The last thing he wants is to get invited over for dinner or something so Daphne's dad can glare daggers at him over mashed potatoes for no good reason. 

"Mom, this is Hal. Remember I said he was staying with Barry?"

"...Yes, I do." She nods, still looking at him skeptically. He tries to appear as innocent as possible, which is difficult, even if he actually is innocent for once. He's usually climbing out a window half naked by now. "Where is Barry? I thought you said he was coming over?"

"We thought so too, but he decided to work on his science project instead. Luckily, Hal was still down to watch Grease with me. He's just joined the drama club."

"Yeah." Hal agrees. He can see the tension in her mother's shoulders decrease upon hearing that. 

"Are you staying for dinner, Hal?"

'Oh, no, thank you. I'll probably go as soon as the movie's over."

Dr Dean nods. "Well, I'll leave you to your movie. Nice to meet you, Hal."

"You too, Doctor."

She nods appreciatively, probably used to people saying 'Mrs' instead, and ducks out of the room again, leaving the door open a few inches. The two teenagers wait until they hear the footsteps go back downstairs before speaking again. Daphne breathes a sigh of relief.

"Oh my god, if she'd come in a minute earlier!"

"I'm sure as a doctor she'd appreciate you taking precautions when it comes to your sexual wellbeing-"

She grabs a pillow and tosses it at him. He laughs. They've missed quite a lot of the movie, but whatever. He'll get to see the school perform it live in December. If he goes. He probably will.

Hal does pay attention to the ending though. Especially Sandy's transformation. Hot damn. 

Darryl gets back from work at 5.30, and a few minutes later he knocks on Barry's door, breaking him out of his deep thinking session.

"Yeah?" Barry looks up from the rubix cube in his hands. Darryl sticks his head into the room and seems surprised to find Barry sitting alone on his bed. 

"Where's Hal?"

"He's at Daphne's house." 

"So why aren't you? I thought the deal was that you go places together."

"...I have to make a chart for my science project."

Darryl steps into the room properly and looks at Barry's empty desk. "Uh huh. And where's the chart?"

"I...haven't done it yet."

"You've lost me, son. What's actually going on here? Are you covering for him?"

Barry frantically shakes his head. "No! No. They're just watching a movie together."

"Were you invited?"

"Yeah. It's just...they're kind of dating each other now. I didn't want to be a third wheel." He tells him quietly, looking back down at the rubix cube. He twists it back and forth in the same way, which doesn't really achieve anything other than a small comfort.

"He and Daphne are dating?"

Barry nods, and Darryl puts his hands on his hips.

"Well I'll be damned. Not even here two whole weeks and he's already stolen your girl."

"He - Daphne's not my girl. And I'm very happy for them, actually." 

"Are you?"

"Yes. No. Not really."

"Jealous?"

"I...I just worry that they'll forget about me. They won't want me tagging along if they're a couple." 

Darryl thinks for a moment, not getting Barry's logic. "But you said they invited you?:

"Yeah, so I made up an excuse."

"Sounds more like you're excluding yourself here."

"I...yeah." 

Darryl sighs and sits down on the end of Barry's bed. "You really confuse me sometimes, y'know that, kid? You don't want to go out most of the time, you have no interest in driving, or sports, and you don't seem to mind losing a pretty girl to another guy."

Barry doesn't really know what to say other than, "Sorry."

Darryl shakes his head and gently laughs. "It's just that...you're so different to how I was at your age. I find it hard to relate to you at times." 

If he knew just how different Barry is, he might not want to relate to him at all. 

Darryl sighs. "If your mother were here she'd probably know what to say. She always did."

They're both quiet for a few moments. 

"Do you wish I was more like Hal? Sporty and popular and stuff?"

Darryl huffs a laugh. "Barry, after what his mother told me about him I was counting my lucky stars you were so well-behaved by comparison. No. I don't wish you were like him. But...it wouldn't hurt you to let yourself have fun from time to time. Go to a few more parties. Or, pick up a sport. Preferably a team one."

Darryl doesn't seem to have anything more to say, so he pats Barry's shin and gets up. "I'm going to make dinner. Will Hal be back for it?" 

"Think so."

"Maybe get started on that chart of yours. Might take your mind off it."

Hal walks in the front door, still thinking about Olivia Newton-John in those high waisted black leather pants. Even if there's going to be nothing sexual between them, he can't say he's not looking forward to seeing Daphne in that costume. 

He dumps his bag in the hallway and strolls into the kitchen, wanting a glass of water. 

"There you are, Romeo." Darryl greets, looking up from the boiling pasta. "Barry says you had a date."

Hal shrugs, opening the cupboard to grab a glass. "Yeah."

"Daphne is a nice girl." He continues, stirring the meat and sauce for what Hal guesses is bolognese. "Probably the only one who gives Barry the time of day." 

"Yeah, she's real cool." Hal fills up his glass at the sink, wondering where the hell this is going. He imagines it'll be somewhere along the lines of 'get her pregnant and you're dead.'

"So tell me, why are you the one dating her?" Darryl asks, pointing a sauce-covered spoon at him in an accusatory fashion. 

He wonders if the 'don't tell anyone the relationship is fake' rule applies to Darryl, but decides it doesn't. 

"Well you see, it's funny, the plan is to encourage him to make a move on her by making him jealous." He explains, taking a sip. "She's head over heels for him."

Darryl stares at him, dumbfounded. 

"What?"

"Hal, I may not have much luck in the dating department, but that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard." 

He puts his hands up in defense.

"Okay, yeah, it sounds a bit backwards. But you want him to get more confident, right? So do I. And what better way to do that than to finally get him to ask her out?" Hal tells him, though it feels a little like he's convincing himself too. "She came up with it, not me. I'm just along for the ride."

Darryl shakes his head as Hal chugs the rest of his water. "Whatever. I'd rather not get involved in teenage drama. I think you're all old enough to sort this out yourselves. But just make sure you're not leaving him out of things, alright? Even if he leaves himself out."

"Course. I don't want to leave him out." 

Hal's about to go upstairs, when Darryl adds, "If you get that girl pregnant you're dead, ya hear me?" 

He can't help but chuckle. Parents (or parental figures) can be so predictable sometimes. "You don't have to worry, trust me."

Hal knocks on the bedroom door - just in case - before going in. Barry is sitting at his desk with some graph paper, notes and a foot long metal ruler. There's a pencil stuck behind his ear. Hal thought he'd be done by now, but then again, Barry isn't always good at staying on task.

"Hey, how's the chart going?"

"Fine." 

"Can I see?"

Barry passes him the sheet of paper and even though it's not done, he can clearly see the comparison between the two sets of data. A kid could read it. "Looks good."

"How was the movie?"

"Eh, it was fine. Can't say we paid it all that much attention. Too busy talking."

"Just talking?" Barry asks as Hal passes the graph back to him. 

"I can be a gentleman when I want to be." Hal shrugs, then takes off his jacket. "You never told me her mom was hot."

Barry rolls his eyes, and Hal laughs. "Kidding. Mostly. Y'know who else is hot? Olivia Newton-John in those pants, holy shit."

"I was pretty young last time I watched it, I probably didn't notice." Barry says, tidying up his work. He's got that closed off vibe about him again.

Hal thinks about what Darryl had said, about Barry feeling left out. He'd been worried about that too. They probably didn't hang out quite as much this week as last week, and Hal wants to make up for it. 

"Hey, remember that kid who wanted to put mentos in the soda? You think he'd still be game for that?" 

"I think we've probably missed out on that invitation by now, Hal. I'm surprised you remembered it."

"I was just thinking we could do something fun and stupid like that tomorrow, y'know?" Hal says, perching himself on the side of the desk, and Barry looks up at him. "Just us guys. I'm all girled out."

"Well...I haven't gotten the chance to pick up my comic pull lately. It's built up."

"Great! We'll go to the comic shop. I think I wanna get some more Blackhawk. Oh, and we could get those gnarly pancakes again." 

Barry smiles, a genuine one that extends to his eyes, and Hal's glad to see its return. He's been acting down this week, and Hal feels guilty for being part of the cause. 

Sitting above him like this, Hal feels a strange urge to reach out and touch his hair. It looks soft. 

He hops off the desk again. 

"Righteous." 

The next morning, Hal gets mail. A letter from Jim, and another from Oscar. He opens Jim's first at the kitchen table. It's much of what he expected - talking about his friends at school, teachers. It's not terribly interesting, but it's from his little brother. Jim says a few neighbours Hal usually does yard work for were asking where he was. At least someone was. None of his friends from school bothered to get in contact, though by now Hal's realised he can't call them real friends.

He opens the one from Oscar. It's nice stationary, though a bit fruity for his taste. There's flowers printed in the top corners of the paper. 

9/5/1989

Dear Hal ,

Thank you for contacting me. I was beginning to get worried when your letter arrived. You wouldn't have been the first person I know to vanish. Though I have to say, your handwriting is quite hard to read at times. 

(Hal rolls his eyes, even though it's probably true. Oscar's handwriting is perfectly legible, of course.)

  I'm sorry to hear you've been sent away, though I can't say I'm sorry that you're far, far away from Achilles's Beach. I think it'll be good for you to cut down on cruising older boys. Though if you do decide to engage with the gay scene, I advise more caution than usual. As you've no doubt discovered by now, Central City is not Coast, and I won't be there to help you if anything goes awry. 

  It's unfortunate to hear that you're staying with a cop - you're very aware of how I feel about them -

(Hal's heard many stories about anti-war and gay liberation protests Oscar attended, especially in the 60s and 70s. He's even been arrested a few times.) 

- but this Barry boy sounds very nice. I hope he's queer. You could use a gay friend that's the same age as you, rather than only having us old queens. 

I'd love to hear more from you, though I understand if your letter was meant as a once off. If that's the case, I wish you good luck. Let me know when you get back and you can tell us all about your adventure over tea (or coffee).

Your self-appointed Fairy Godfaggot, 

Oscar x

Hal snorts when he reads the sign off, being able to perfectly imagine Oscar saying it out loud. He thinks he'll write him back, keep him updated. He can't exactly tell anyone else about how he found another queer guy called Michael. He's not sure he'd really call him a friend though.

He turns the page over just in case, and finds more writing.

P.S: My dear friend Rita was making patches for the Bay Area Bisexuals, and upon seeing them I immediately thought of that jacket of yours. I picked out a subtle one and enclosed it. I'll understand if you don't use it, considering your career choice (christ, do I abhor the military), but perhaps you can sew it onto the inside.

Hal checks the envelope again, and sure enough there's a small patch in there. It consists of two triangles, one pink and one blue, overlapping to create a purple triangle in the middle. He turns it over in his hand. 

When he'd first mentioned that he was bisexual to Oscar, he'd had more or less the same reaction Michael did - 'that's what all you boys say' - but grew more accepting of it over time, even one day telling him all about the Bay Area Bisexual Center he'd learned of while visiting friends in San Fransico. 

Subtle symbolism or not, he certainly won't be sewing the patch on the outside of his jacket. And even the idea of sewing it onto the inside makes him feel uneasy. He's never added his own patches to it before - all the ones on it were his dad's. Adding something like this seems...wrong. 

Hal doesn't like to think about it, but honestly? If his dad was alive he wouldn't approve of him liking other guys. Most dads wouldn't, of course, but his dad was military. 

The back door opens and he shoves the patch back into the envelope. 

"You got your mail?" Darryl asks, stepping in from the porch with the newspaper folded under his arm and an empty mug.

Hal nods. "Yeah."

Darryl peers at Oscar's letter. He's too far away to be able to read it, but can no doubt see the flowery stationary it's written on. Hal folds it up. 

"You haven't got a girl back in California have you? Does she know about your little arrangement with Daphne?" Darryl asks, a little amused smirk on his face as he goes to wash out his coffee mug in the sink. 

Hal puts the letter back into the envelope. Of course he'd assume. "Ha, no. She's uh, a friend." 

"Sure, son. You'd better be careful. Women have a knack for sensing these things even when you're thousands of miles away."

Even if Hal had a girlfriend, he doesn't think he'd be taking relationship advice from Darryl, who's almost forty, single, and stuck looking after two teenagers that aren't even his. He'd honestly rather get it from Oscar, and Oscar's gayer than Christmas. 

"Is sleeping beauty up yet?"

"Barry? No."

Darryl shakes his head and strides over to the door of the kitchen to shout into the hallway. "Barry! It's 11am! Hal's already up!"

He looks back at Hal. "One thing I can say about you is that you get up early." 

"You can thank my dad for that."

Darryl nods. "He was good at keeping time. Wish the same could be said for Barry." 

Hal folds up Jim's letter and returns it to its envelope. Darryl dries his mug and chuckles to himself. "Y'know, it's almost comical. His mother told me that he was born a week late. He started crawling and walking and talking after all the other kids. His hair was so slow growing he didn't need a haircut till he was two. Hell, his voice didn't even properly drop till last year. Sometimes I think he's cursed."

Hal smiles, feeling like he definitely shouldn't be listening to this, but listens anyway. It's nice to learn more about Barry. Especially embarrassing stuff Barry won't tell him himself.

"Sounds like it."

Hal washes up the plate and mug from his long finished breakfast, then gathers up his letters. He bumps into Barry in the hallway - literally. 

"Sorry!" Barry apologises. He's still in his slippers and sleepwear, hair uncombed. 

"It's fine, Bar. Though...I thought we were going into the city today." 

Barry makes that face he always does when he suddenly remembers something, or is reminded of something. Like a golden retriever that's just been asked what it has in its mouth. It's funny.

"I - oh I forgot! I meant to get up earlier but I -" 

Hal laughs. "It's alright, I was expecting you to sleep in. How about you get changed, and we get breakfast at Susie's?"

"But you've already had breakfast."

He snorts. "Like I'd say no to a second breakfast. Especially pancakes." 

They both go back upstairs together, and Hal tidies away his letters - which means shoving them between his mattress and the floor - while Barry grabs some clothes to change into. 

"Your brother wrote back?" Barry asks before turning around. He hesitates for a few moments before tugging off his t-shirt. 

He's stopped going into the bathroom specifically to get dressed, which Hal is glad of. Because it means he's more comfortable. Not for any other reason. I mean sure, Hal peeks at his back, and the blush that extends up from his neck, but he's only human. 

"Yeah, he did. Nothing much of note."

Barry sprays himself with some deodorant (it's not Axe) and then bends over coughing. 

"Eugh, some got in my mouth." He complains, voice raspy, and Hal sympathises. 

"Grody. I hate when that happens."

Still turned around, Barry quickly grabs a red Flash t-shirt that has a large yellow lightning bolt on it and pulls it on. Hal picks up a book and pretends to be busy while Barry hurries to change out of his pyjama pants and underwear. He definitely isn't checking out Barry's ass, which is probably the only part of him that isn't skinny. 

Barry finally turns around and Hal immediately looks away. He flicks through the book. It's one of Barry's old sci-fi novels, he thinks. He didn't really pay attention to the cover when he grabbed it. 

Barry sits on his bed and grabs his shoes. "Oh, is that The Time Machine? It's one of my favourites."

Hal looks at the cover of the well-worn paperback. "Uh, yeah."

"You should read it some time." Barry says, lacing up his sneakers. 

"Maybe." Hal says, though he has no intention of reading it. He puts it back. 

"If you could go back in time what would you do?" Barry suddenly asks.

"Dude, did you not see Back To The Future? Time travel can mess shit up big time."

"Of course I've seen it! And yeah, I know. But if there were no negative consequences? What would you do?"

Hal considers. "I'd wait till I'm a pilot. Then I'd go back in time to before my dad died, to show him my wings."

"That's a nice idea."

"What about you?"

"I...I'd probably use it to find out who killed my mom. Maybe I'd be able to stop them, I don't know..." Barry says, looking down at his half-tied shoe.

"You'd change a lot. Probably for the better though." 

"Yeah. Though...it would mean I wouldn't have met you." 

"Probably not. Is that a positive or negative consequence, do you think?" Hal asks.

"Negative." Barry answers without hesitation.

"Well, you said this hypothetical time travel has no negative consequences, remember? So you can save your mom and still have the coolest friend ever." 

Barry doesn't laugh at that, he just smiles. "Yeah."

The blond grabs his denim jacket - he's been wearing it more since Hal helped him get ready for the party - and his backpack. Hal grabs his own jacket and they head out. 

"You think Darryl would ever let me drive his car? I hate taking the bus." Hal says as they walk past where it's parked in the driveway.

"Probably not. Even if I could drive he wouldn't let me either."

"Wish I had a car like Daphne." 

"She started saving up for one when she was thirteen. She was determined to start driving as soon as she turned sixteen." Barry tells him as they walk to the bus stop.

Hal nods, "Sounds like her. Why can't you drive?"

Barry shrugs. "Just...not interested in it, I guess."

"Not interested? Dude. What kind of teenager are you?"

He sighs, holding both straps of his bag and looking down at the pavement. "Believe me, I ask myself that all the time. Last night Darryl told me he finds it hard to relate to me. I think he thinks I'm weird because I'm not interested in the same things other boys are interested in." 

Hal thinks back to how Darryl had asked Hal about all the sports he likes, the constant hints about getting Barry to learn how to drive, and him trying to encourage them to play catch together. Hal wonders if Darryl agreed to take him in thinking he might be able to help Barry 'man-up' or something.

  "So basically, he called you a pansy without actually calling you a pansy?"

"No, he….well yeah. It kind of felt like it."

"He doesn't know shit." Hal says, and Barry looks up at him, a little shocked at his bluntness. 

"What? He doesn't. What you're interested in has nothing to do with who you want to fuck. A guy could be a linebacker for the school football team and suck cock on the regular." Hal would know from experience. "And it doesn't matter, anyway. Remember that friend I wrote to?"

"...Yeah?" Barry replies, likely confused as to where this is going.

"He's gay. Hell, he's such a flamer that next to him you'd look like GI Joe. He even wrote back to me on flowery paper." Hal laughs. "But he's the only friend from back home that actually cared that I went away. That's what really counts." 

Hal knows he's lucky. He flies under the radar - or gaydar, he supposes - because he doesn't line up with straight people's preconceived ideas. It makes things easier in a way, but it also means people expect him to join in on all the fag jokes. 

"Thanks. But I...I'm not actually...I mean I never said I was -" Barry says.

"I know. I'm just saying. It pisses me off, the way people think it's some kind of joke."  Barry nods, not looking at him. Hal wonders if he's said too much.

They reach the bus stop and sit down. According to the timetable the next service is at 11.45am.  Hal thinks about Oscar's letter. 'I hope he's queer. You could use a gay friend your own age.' 

The bus finally comes, and they get on. Hal decides to leave all that heavy shit behind, determined to have a fun day with his best friend. It's only been a few weeks, sure, but he thinks he can call him that. They go to the comic shop and leave with three weeks worth of comics - Barry was right about his pull building up. Craig kindly kept them for him, knowing he'd be in sooner or later. 

Barry's stomach rumbles aggressively as they leave. Hal remembers that he didn't actually have any breakfast and that they were supposed to go to the diner first. As it turns out, Barry also forgot. 

Susie is there, despite Barry saying she only works on Sundays. She explains that she's covering someone else's shift. The lady remarks on Hal's presence, saying she's glad he's sticking around for now. She also comments on him wearing a t-shirt which is 'the right size.' 

They read the comics while they eat, occasionally showing each other the coolest parts. He likes seeing Barry get excited about the way The Flash deals with a villian in the latest issue. Hal somehow ends up telling him all about the famous aviator Amelia Earhart, and the mystery surrounding her disappearance in 1937, which Barry seems to eat up. No-one else listens to his flying-related trivia like he does. Except maybe Carol, but that was only once. He's been bombarding Barry with it for weeks, and he hasn't told him to shut up yet.

They pick songs to play on the jukebox. Barry chooses 'A Teenager In Love' by Dion & The Belmonts and Hal plays 'Come Fly With Me' like last time.

They talk about the latest NASA news - the selection for the 1990 class of astronauts started yesterday. Hal tells him that would be his ultimate goal after becoming a test pilot - going to space as an astronaut. Barry tells him that he'd rather work on the ground - space travel is still very risky - but if he was in the Star Trek universe he'd definitely enlist as a scientist. 

Hal really enjoys spending time with Barry. And he enjoys the pancakes too, of course. They finish their little day out with some soda and Mentos in the park, and it's just as fun and stupid as Hal expected.   

Chapter Text

It's Monday morning again in no time, and they do the now familiar routine of sprinting to the bus stop at the last minute because Barry couldn't haul ass earlier. Except this time, there's a twist Barry doesn't know about. 

"Oh my god." He wheezes, frantically looking at his watch and then at the bus stop, which is sans bus. "It's gone! We've missed it, oh god." 

Barry bends over and holds his knees, like an old man who's just run a mile. Hal covers his mouth with his hand, trying not to laugh. 

"We're going to be so late. If we get there. I might die trying to walk that distance." Barry exclaims, sitting down on the edge of the bench.

At some point it occurs to Hal that Barry is getting genuinely upset about this, his breathlessness no longer sprinting-related. He puts a hand on his shoulder. "Uh, Bar?"

"Yeah?" Barry asks, head in his hands.

"I uh. I put the alarm clock, the kitchen clock and your watch forward by half an hour last night." 

The other boy is silent for a few moments, then looks up at him. "You did?"

"Yeah. We're early actually. Congratulations!" He tells him, showing his own watch.

Barry groans, and tries to lean back against the wall of the bus shelter, but is stopped by his school bag. Hal sits down beside him.

"That's not funny, Hal!"

"It kinda is. Was. I didn't think you'd freak out so much. Sorry." 

Barry clearly tries, but isn't able to stay annoyed at him for very long. He starts to laugh a little. "The other people who get on at this stop aren't even here yet...I've never been this early."

"Amazing, isn't it?" 

Barry gives him a light shove, which doesn't achieve much. Hal shoves him back, and almost knocks him off the bench. He grabs the sleeves of Barry's multicoloured sweater to stop him from falling. They get a fit of laughter, and when the other kids show up for the bus they laugh again at their faces upon seeing them there.

"For your next assignment I decided on something fun." Mr Johnson announces to the class on Wednesday. A few people groan, doubting the truth of the statement. The teacher continues.

"I want all of you to go to the library and pick a work of fiction. Read it, and write me a review. I want you to cover the following points." He tells them, picking up the chalk. He starts writing on the board. "Characters, plot, writing style and personal reaction. Tell me why I should or shouldn't read it. Four to six pages."

Sounds easy. Barry thinks it's a nice assignment. He glances over at Hal, who is doodling something in his notebook, tongue stuck out in concentration. Barry knows he's going to ask him what the assignment was at the end of class, because he certainly isn't listening right now. Barry makes note of the points in his own notebook before he forgets them. He'll let Hal copy them down later if he wants to.

If he's being honest, he frequently doesn't listen in English class himself. It's just so much less appealing than a science class, and his mind wanders a lot. One time last week he watched two birds tearing stuff out of a bin outside for a solid three minutes. Sometimes something as simple as a sudden heavy rain will tear his attention away. It's annoying.

"I'll give you until this day next week to have it done. If you want to go to the library now, go ahead and grab a hall pass. If you're staying here, please keep the noise at a reasonable level. I've got a very thrilling mystery novel I hope to finish by the end of this period." Mr Johnson tells them, sitting down at his desk and picking up the paperback he walked in with. He cracks it open and leans back in his chair. He clearly doesn't feel like teaching class today. 

Pretty much everyone takes this to mean it's a free period and starts talking to each other. Barry decides he might as well get a head start in picking out a book before all the good ones are taken. He makes note of the date the assignment is due and tidies away his things. 

"Where are you going?" Hal asks, looking up at the sound of everyone bursting into chatter. 

"The library. To pick out a book for the assignment."

"Assignment? I thought he just gave us a free period." 

Barry was right about him not listening. "It could be a free period, but I'm going to get a head start."

Hal roughly shoves his notebook into his bag and gets up from his chair. "I'll come with." 

Barry wasn't expecting him to come, he thought Hal would much rather hang out with the rest of the class, but he isn't complaining. Barry wonders if maybe he feels bad about spending so much time with Daphne. 

Mr Johnson barely gives them a second glance as they leave, engrossed in his mystery. They walk down the empty hallway, shoes squeaking on the polished floor and echoing through the building. 

"What was the assignment?" Hal asks, like Barry knew he would, and he briefs him on the way. 

"Oh. I don't read much books." 

"Many." Barry corrects.

"What?"

"Nevermind. Well, there's bound to be something you'll like. I know a few sci-fi classics. Actually, I might have books at home you could read if we don't find anything here."

From his observations, Hal rarely choses anything heavier than a magazine when reading for pleasure, and they're usually music, space or aviation-related. He's read some of Barry's National Geographic mags too.

They get to the library, which is quiet except for the librarian and a few other students studying. They part ways and start browsing. Every once and a while Barry quietly approaches Hal with a recommendation, and Hal brushes most of them off with a disinterested shrug and a 'maybe.'

Barry finally picks out a book for himself after much deliberation, and then almost yelps out loud when Hal pops up behind him with a manic grin on his face and a twinkle in his eye.

"Found one." He whispers, holding up his chosen book. Top Gun by Mike Cogan. A novelisation of the film. Barry sighs. 

"Really?"

"Absolutely. It's the best movie ever, which makes this the best book ever." 

Barry can think of several flaws in that statement. "You already know the plot of Top Gun, the ending won't be a surprise."

"Exactly. I already know who's gonna die. I'll still be sad of course, but it won't shock me." 

Barry's unimpressed attitude must show on his face, because Hal's smile widens. "Well, Mr Well-Read. What piece of critically-acclaimed literature have you picked out?"

Barry is holding the book down by his side, suddenly feeling a bit silly for judging Hal's choice. 

Hal's face lights up again. "I bet it's a Star Trek novel."

"...no."

The other boy smirks. "No? Then what is it? Show me."

"No." Barry says again, feeling his cheeks heat up as he digs himself a deeper hole. His reaction only seems to bring Hal more amusement.

"C'mon." He says, reaching for it. Barry steps back, causing Hal to snicker.

"Show me the book, Bartholomew ." 

Barry lets out a pained noise, ducking as Hal tries again. "Why did I tell you my full name?" 

He almost ends up running away from him, dodging his attempts to snatch the book. Hal starts laughing too loud for the setting and Barry shushes him, not wanting to get in trouble. Hal somehow wrestles him onto the floor while trying to pry the book from Barry's hands. 

His attempts to fight back are miserable. Hal eventually triumphs, using his extra strength to grab both of Barry's arms and pin them together. He feels Hal's weight on his back, keeping him down. 

Barry goes still, realising the compromising position. If someone were to walk around the corner - well. He supposes other boys wrestle each other all the time, so it's not that unusual, but they're still rough housing in the library, and he doesn't want a teacher to catch them. His heart thumps against the brown carpeted floor, but it's not entirely because he's afraid of getting in trouble.

It's not often Barry finds himself in a position like this. Lance and the others rarely get this physical, knowing that words are enough to dampen his spirit, and when they do, it's not pleasant. This...isn't entirely unpleasant. 

Hal finally grabs the book and quietly reads out the title. " Star Trek: The Lost Years ."

He leans down close to Barry's ear and whispers. His breath is warm and Barry shivers involuntarily. "Liar. You can't judge me one bit." 

Barry gulps, losing his will to argue with him. It's hard to focus on anything other than how close Hal is, and the fact that he's got him pinned down on the library floor, oh god. Why is he still pinning him to the library floor? 

Barry finds he quite likes the weight of Hal on top of him, even if it isn't all that easy to breathe. If Hal shifted a little lower, he'd...

Nope nope, get your mind out of the gutter, Barry. If there was a hell you'd be on a one-way ticket.

 "It's a new one...I...haven't read it yet." He argues weakly.

Hal lets go of his hands and then the weight is gone. Barry stays on the floor for a second, burying his face in his arms. He's almost afraid to turn around, worried he might have the beginnings of a hard-on. Scratch that, he definitely does. God, what is wrong with him? Why can't he just be normal about this? 

"You good?" Hal taps him on the shoulder with his shoe. 

"M'fine" he murmurs in reply. He reluctantly moves to get up, and Hal offers him a hand. He takes it, and then gets his book back. He tries to position it in front of his jeans as subtly as possible.

"C'mon, Spock . Let's check these out." Hal quips. 

"I...uh. Yes Captain?" Barry awkwardly responds with the world's most terrible Spock impression. Hal smiles back at him over his shoulder, like Barry didn't just make a complete fool of himself. 

All throughout the rest of the school day his mind returns to that incident. Especially in boring classes, and especially when Hal and Daphne are kissing each other in the senior lounge during a free period. Barry excuses himself and two minutes later is locked into a bathroom cubicle on the third floor. It's his most frequent hiding spot.

He rests his head against the cool metal door and takes deep breaths, trying to force himself to think of something, anything else. He's not going to jerk off in a school bathroom (though he doubts it would be a first for the school), and he's certainly not going to think about him while he does it.

'Hydrogen, Helium, Lithium, Beryllium, Boron, Carbon, Nitrogen, Oxygen, Fluorine, Neon, Sodium, Magnesium…'

He silently recites the whole periodic table twice, and halfway through the third time he stops and opens his eyes. He steps away from the door and looks at all of the various graffiti. In big black sharpie right in the centre, someone has written 'FAG.' Underneath, a crudely drawn stick figure with an equally crude penis in its mouth and...rear end. It feels like a punch in the gut.

He sits on the closed toilet lid and stares at it for a few seconds, then at the walls. He counts about five different instances of the word. 

Nothing like a good dose of self-hatred to kill a boner. 

After spending maybe six minutes total in there - he thinks, he's not a good judge of time - he finally leaves the cubicle, flushing the toilet to keep up appearances, because during the last minute or so of his session of misery and shame he heard two people come in, and another cubicle lock slide shut. 

When he comes out to the sinks, there's nobody standing there, or by the urinals like he expected. He's sure he only heard one door lock. He looks at the block of cubicles in the mirror while he washes his hands, and sees two pairs of feet under the door. 

Barry freezes, tap still running. His mind first goes to smoking, because sometimes people use the bathrooms for that - especially when sharing a joint - but there's no cloud above the cubicle, or smell that would indicate such. Over the running water he hears a low groan, just barely audible, and a second or two later he sees one person get to their knees. The gap under the door is large enough to tell that those legs definitely don't belong to a girl, and Barry can't seem to tear his eyes away. 

He knows what's going on behind that door, but he doesn't mean he believes it. 

"Is that faucet still on?" He hears a whisper, and Barry finally unsticks himself from the floor. He turns off the water and runs out before he can see or hear anything more. He's already witnessed too much.

He finally stops at the other end of the hallway and leans against one of the window sills. That was - no. It sounded just like Michael Butler. But it couldn't be. Micheal's laughed along with the gay jokes aimed at Barry just like everyone else. 

"You okay? You look like you've seen a ghost." Daphne says, appearing at the top of the stairs. He must look pretty shaken up, because she seems worried.

"I'm fine. And ghosts aren't real."

"Scientific as ever." She smiles. 

"Where's Hal?"

"Oh, he said he had to go to the library and photocopy some textbook or something. I dunno. You wanna get some pop from the vending machine downstairs? You look like you could use it."

"Yeah. I probably could. I, uh, skipped breakfast this morning. That's probably it."

"Running late?"

"Yeah. Even after Hal put the clocks forward." Barry admits, rubbing the back of his neck. "It only worked for one day."

"Well, at least you're consistent." She says with a giggle, then grabs his wrist. "C'mon. You want Fanta, Pepsi or Coca Cola? My treat."

There's a big poster advertising the Homecoming dance next week right next to the vending machine, which Barry reads as Daphne keys in which drinks they want.

"So uh, are you and Hal going to the dance together?"

"I don't know. He hasn't asked me yet." She says, reaching down to grab the two cans from the slot at the bottom.

"Oh. I thought because you two were dating it was a done deal?"

"A girl still likes to be asked." She says, handing him his drink. 

"Thanks."

She shrugs. "Who knows, if someone else asks me first I might go with him instead…"

Daphne smiles at him, and he stares back for a beat or two, then holds out his can. "Cheers?"

She hesitates before clinking her can to his, responding with a confused ' cheers .' Barry wants the ground to swallow him up. Was that all he could think of to say? Could he be any more awkward today?

Maybe she does like me , Barry thinks as he opens his drink and takes a sip. But if that's so, why on earth is she kissing Hal on the regular?

"You sure you're okay?" She asks, reaching a hand up to feel his forehead with a frown.

"Oh, yeah. I'm fine." Barry replies, though he is most definitely not fine.

"Are you going to see your dad today?"

"Yeah."

The bell rings, signalling the end of their free period. He thanks Daphne again for the drink, promising to buy her one next time, and rushes off to class. 

"Is there something bothering you, kiddo?" 

Barry looks at his dad through the glass and finds sincere concern written on his face. He looks down again at the table. 

"Kind of. But I don't want to bother you with silly teenage problems."

"Barry, anything you say is ten times more interesting than what I hear day in, day out in this place."

"It's...hard to explain."

"I think we're both pretty smart guys. Give it a shot."

"I...I think Daphne likes me."

"Oh? Y'know, we'd always thought the two of you were so cute, running around playing your make-believe games." Henry says fondly. By 'we' Barry assumes he means his parents and Daphne's. 

"It's...complicated."

His dad sighs. "It always is, isn't it?"

"She's dating Hal."

That seems to take him by surprise. "She is? Y'know sometimes I forget how much can happen in two weeks… So she's dating him, but you think she likes you?"

"I asked her earlier if she was going to Homecoming with Hal and she said he hadn't asked, but if someone else got there first she might say yes to them instead. She...looked at me like she was expecting something."

Henry nods very seriously, rubbing the scruff on his chin. He always used to be coean shaven when Barry was younger. "I see. So you're trying to work yourself up to ask her."

"No."

"No?"

"Dad...I don't like her like that."

His dad sits back in his chair a little, still holding the phone to his ear and mouth. "Mmm. That is complicated. Why don't you like her?"

"I don't know. I mean, she's perfect right? But...there's someone else I can't stop thinking about. Someone I have no chance with. If I could just forget about them...then maybe I could -"

"Barry, you can't force yourself to love someone. And there's no point being in a relationship you're not happy in."