Archive of Our Own ^beta

Hal Jordan knocked on the door to Oliver Queen’s townhouse. He waited a minute before pulling out his phone and pressing on the screen. The phone chimed for a few seconds before Oliver picked up.

“Door’s unlocked,” Oliver answered. Hal could hear chopping in the background. “Get yourself settled.”

Pocketing his phone, Hal walked in and just entered the living room when he was greeted by the sounds of stainless steel clacking. He followed the cacophony to the kitchen where he saw the breakfast table and the kitchen island covered in grocery bags, some in the process of being emptied. Behind one mountain of grocery, Hal spied Oliver’s blond hair. He was in the middle of chopping a large yellow onion.

Hal peeked over the bags of groceries. “Uh, bud?”

“Oh, we’re making chili,” Ollie answered.

“We?”

“Roy. The kid impugned my honor by saying my chili is for babies.”

Hal smirked when he glanced at the saucepan filled with blackening bits of smoking ground beef on the stove.

“Ollie, your meat’s burning.”

Frantically, Ollie swung around, removing the pan from the heat and slamming a lid on it. He jerked back his hand, now red from the handle’s heat. Hal looked around the kitchen.

“Where’s Roy?”

The door to the balcony slid open. The twelve-year-old boy walked in, juggling a pouch made of crumple aluminum foil. He dropped the pouch and instinctively a green hand shot from Hal’s ring and caught it before it could hit the floor.

“Thanks,” Roy said as he went to the fridge and pulled out a package of chicken breast.

“So all this started ‘cause you talking smack about his chili,” Hal said, the green hand setting the pouch down next to the crockpot right beside the cutting board where Roy started cubing the chicken breast. The green hand zipped right back into the ring.

“It’s not really his chili if he gets it out of a can,” Roy remarked, prompting an indignant huff from Ollie.

“So what’s in the foil?” Hal asked

“Jalapenos and a Bell pepper,” Roy explained. “Etai Hatale’s gran cooked peppers on her grill before cutting them up and putting them in her chili. Normally, there's pork, but Ollie mentioned that you can't eat pork, so I'm using chicken. Should still taste good.”

Hal murmured an intrigued “hmm”.

“Is it really chili if it doesn’t have beans in it, Hal?” Ollie proposed as he poured a can of tomatoes into the saucepan.

“It’s chili because it has chilies, old man,” Roy countered as he put the cubed chicken breast into the crockpot.

“You’re so mean to me, boy,” Ollie proclaimed as he posed theatrically, hand over his forehead. “I just wanna make sure my ward, nay, my adopted son grows up big and strong! How can you grow up big and strong like Big Bow if you don’t have your fiber?”

“God, you’re such a dork,” the boy grinned.

“Dinner and a show,” Hal clapped. “So, as judge for this, what does the winner get?”

“Bragging rights,” Roy replied, in the middle of skinning the peppers.

“Plus, loser has dishwashing duties for two weeks,” Ollie added, pouring in a can of beans.

“Which you’re gonna regret for not getting a dishwasher,” Roy interjected.

“Those things waste too much water,” Ollie retorted. “You know better. Besides, I’m gonna win.”

Roy rolled his eyes.

“Well, either way, I don’t have to cook tonight,” Hal shrugged. “I’ll just be on the couch. May the best man win.”