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Getting dolled up to go out as his alter ego always settled Hal, like his own version of that meditation thing Batman prattled on about sometimes. Between intergalactic missions for the Lantern corps and monitor shifts on the Watchtower when he was planetside Hal could hardly hold down a regular job, but that was ok when his favorite hobby made enough to pay for the rent on his shit apartment. Whenever he could, Hal shed the skin of “Hal Jordan: former Air Force Pilot and Earth’s Senior Green Lantern” to put on the persona of Miss Miley High, confident and daring drag queen. The first step was always makeup- olive eyeshadow, long lashes, and a bold red lip for her signature look. Then came the old-fashioned aviation inspired jumpsuit, short brunette wig, and white bandana tied over her hair. Lace up heeled boots, white gloves, and a fur lined bomber jacket completed the look. She spent a little extra time making sure every inch was perfect because tonight was a special night at the club, Billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne was in town and had rented out the whole club Miley performed at to throw a private party. A phone alarm reminded her to stop stressing, grab her shit, and leave before she spent hours in front of the mirror fixing imaginary flaws.
A whole crowd of rich business men, trust fund babies, and local influential people milled about around the stage waiting for the show to start but from her hidden vantage point backstage Miley couldn’t spot the guest of honor. She wasn’t even really sure he was there yet, Brucie was known for late and dramatic entrances after all. Just as she was about to turn away and retreat backstage before the show began a ripple of excitement rang through the assembled crowd, catching her eye and drawing it to the source. He was here. In a daring but tasteful cut-out suit and an artful amount of body glitter Bruce stood uncharacteristically alone in the doorway of the club as the paparazzi yelled questions and cameras flashed behind him, lending him an ethereal glow. The moment event security shut the door behind him the man was swarmed by another horde of admirers and Miley almost felt bad for him, even a vapid nepo baby like Wayne had to get sick of constantly being surrounded by people. Now that she’d caught a glimpse of the host she retreated backstage to warn the other queens and club staff the man of the hour had finally arrived.
Hours later she really did feel bad for Wayne, the man hadn’t had a second to himself the entire night. Mind made up Miley strutted over to where he was trapped by a group of young business men, silently grabbed his hand with an exaggerated wink at the suits, and tugged him away. She kept pulling him but it wasn’t until they had arrived in the dressing room and she released his arm that he finally spoke.
“I don’t think I’m supposed to be in here,” he said, sounding a bit odd. Miley turned to look at him and found him standing just inside the door with one hand over his eyes. Quite respectful for an internationally renowned playboy. Interesting.
“No one’s back here but us, you can drop the hand. And normally you wouldn’t be, but it seemed like you could use a break and this might be the only place no one would look for you. Plus if they do come in here we can just hide you behind a dressing rack,” Miley replied, shrugging. The hand slowly came down and migrated to rub sheepishly at the back of his neck.
“Thank you. You’re right, a break would be nice,” The soft smile he sported now was much nicer than the big grin he’d been wearing for his adoring fans. Miley reminded herself not to fall for it, the man in front of her had broken more hearts than she’d had hot dinners. “How did you know? If you don’t mind me asking,” The billionaire continued a moment later, looking at her curiously.
“Well I haven’t seen you alone all night. Figured that had to be draining,” She shrugged again, hoping he didn’t ask why she’d chosen to help him because she really didn’t have an answer. It had just felt like the right thing to do.
“Right again,” The man laughed. “You know, I don’t think I caught the name of my saviour. I’m Bruce, and you are?” He stuck out a large hand for her to shake like she was another networker on the floor.
“Miss Miley High, but you can just call me Miley,” She took the proffered hand anyway because the guy was just trying to be polite.
“It’s nice to meet you Miley,” He said all rough timbre and sincerity, a boyish grin on his plush lips. Oh she was so fucked.
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Hal had thought he was fucked that night but that was only the beginning. They had really hit it off then, talking and laughing in the dressing room for hours. They hadn’t even noticed any time had gone by all until the others started returning to get ready to go home. Unwilling to say goodbye forever, Bruce had given Miley his personal phone number and asked if she’d like to grab a bite to eat once she was off the clock. He’d even told her that if her superiors gave her any trouble about missing most of the party to tell them it was all his fault. Against her better judgement Miley had clocked out and left with him. They’d gone to a 24 hour greasy spoon diner, the kind she’d assumed a man like Bruce would never set foot in. After milkshakes, burgers, and more compelling conversation Miley had invited Bruce back to her place for a night cap. A night cap that coincidentally turned into an all night affair.
It’d been six months since then and they still saw each other as often as they could. Bruce had gotten to know both Hal and Miley, never treating him with anything but respect, just as Hal had gotten to know the real Bruce that lived behind all the glitz and glamour. Neither of them minded that sometimes the other had to cancel- Hal for badly concealed League and Corps missions, and Bruce for business meetings and the kinds of family emergencies that come with having a gaggle of children at home. This kind of casual relationship worked well for them, too well honestly.
All this led to Hal sitting on his couch in his shitty apartment staring at the green ring in his palm and waiting for Bruce to walk through the door, debating whether tonight he would tell the other man he was a Green Lantern and about to leave for a year long mission on the other side of the universe or break up with him without explaining and hope by the time he got back Bruce will have forgotten him. The sound of the lock turning in the door snapped Hal’s hand shut around the ring and he rose to meet the other man. When Bruce entered he looked as torn as Hal did.
“Hal. I have to tell you something,” Bruce’s voice was as grave as his face.
“I have something I need to tell you too,” Hal admitted around the lump in his throat.
“Would you like to go first?” Bruce offered, ever the gentleman.
“Can we go at the same time?” The taller man nodded and Hal took a deep breath, “Ok. One three. One… Two… Three!”
“I’m Batman.” “I’m a Green Lantern!”
“Lantern?!” “Spooky?!”
“No! No way! You’re fucking with me and it isn’t funny Bruce! I’m being serious, I’m a Green Lantern. See?” Hal practically shoved the Lantern ring in the ravenette’s face frantically. The larger man calmly removed the limb from his face but kept a gentle hold of it while he looked Hal in the eyes.
“I believe you. Now I need you to believe me. I’m not fucking with you Hal really, I am Batman.” Those last three words dropped in a growly register the former pilot was all too familiar with, there was only one person on this planet or any other that sounded like that.
“Holy shit, I banged Batman!”