𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐌𝐄 university student ; sagittarius ; brown lipliner ; lowkey im a nail artist ; dc comics ; in love with 𝐫𝐨𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐩𝐞𝐫 <3 ; fab five fan club ; dickroy nation ; new to writing ; only comic facts ; dm are open if you wish to talk!
𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐌𝐄 university student ; sagittarius ; brown lipliner ; lowkey im a nail artist ; dc comics ; in love with 𝐫𝐨𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐩𝐞𝐫 <3 ; fab five fan club ; dickroy nation ; new to writing ; only comic facts ; dm are open if you wish to talk!
The fandoms hatred for Dickbabs high key gives Ableist and that you’ve mainly watched teen titans stuff.
Also saying that Barbara has no character outside of dick is blatantly wrong and misogynistic. Also it gives projecting a little because Starfire is actually given like nothing besides being used to further Dick or any other male characters storyline ( which is incredibly unfortunate and I’m excited for her new show, hopefully they explore her character more than just her relationships and expand upon her character)
Also I’m open to talk about this cause I personally don’t ship either lol
Warnings: suggestive sexual content, friends to lovers, childhood friends, jealousy, jealous!Roy Harper, Green Lantern!Reader, Hal Jordan being an embarrassing father, Oliver Queen being equally embarrassing
Summary:
After months away in deep space, you return home with Kyle Rayner beside you.
Roy Harper is happy to see you.
He is considerably less happy to discover how comfortable the two of you have become.
Author’s Note:
written for this request
The first message reached you shortly after Earth appeared beneath the clouds.
DINNER AT SIX.
Green letters hovered across the inside of the construct surrounding you, accompanied by the neutral chime of your ring. The message had come from Roy, although the capitalization suggested Oliver had been leaning over his shoulder while he typed it.
A second one appeared before you could respond.
HAL SAID SIX. OLLIE SAYS SEVEN. DINAH SAYS THAT MEANS WE’RE EATING AT EIGHT.
You smiled.
Four months away should not have made the sight of Earth feel unfamiliar, but deep-space assignments had a way of distorting time. You had slept beneath violet suns, negotiated with governments that measured age in migrations rather than years, and spent the last three weeks aboard a vessel where every corridor smelled faintly of copper.
Earth was blue, loud, and comfortably predictable by comparison.
Another message appeared.
I SAY YOU OWE ME FOUR MONTHS OF MOVIE NIGHTS.
You opened a response channel.
I WAS PREVENTING AN INTERPLANETARY WAR.
Roy answered almost immediately.
SO YOU ADMIT YOU MISSED THEM.
You were still smiling when Kyle drifted closer. His green aura brushed the edge of yours without resistance. The rings adjusted automatically, preventing the fields from disrupting each other as the two of you descended through the atmosphere.
“Is that Harper?” he asked.
“No.”
“Your ring displayed his contact identification.”
“My ring has become disrespectful.”
“It also increased the oxygen flow when you started smiling.”
“That sounds medically unnecessary.”
“I think it was worried.”
You dismissed the messages. “I can leave you in Nevada.”
Kyle glanced toward the expanse of desert beneath you. “Hal invited me to dinner.”
“Hal once invited a man home because they were both angry at the same vending machine.”
“Did the man come?”
“He stayed for three days.”
“Then Hal has excellent instincts.”
“You’ve met him before?”
“Briefly. He spent most of the conversation arguing with Guy.”
“That was meeting him.”
The two of you broke through the last layer of cloud together. Coast City stretched beneath the late afternoon sun, its streets and beaches rendered in familiar lines that your ring identified before you consciously recognized them.
Hal’s house appeared near the edge of the city. The place had always looked too ordinary for a man who spent half his life carrying the weight of entire worlds. The siding needed repainting. The backyard fence leaned slightly toward the neighboring property, despite Hal insisting every spring that he had fixed it. The roof above the garage had been replaced during your last visit, although the new shingles failed to disguise the dent where Kilowog had once landed without warning.
Three vehicles crowded the driveway. One belonged to Oliver. One was Dinah’s. The third was Roy’s truck.
Your ring increased the oxygen flow again.
Kyle heard the chime. “Concerned.”
“Quiet.”
You descended into the backyard before he could say anything else.
Hal stood behind the grill in a faded apron, arguing with Oliver over whether a burger could be considered cooked when the center remained visibly pink. Dinah sat at the picnic table with a glass of lemonade, watching the disagreement with the resigned expression of someone who had already accepted that neither man would listen to her.
Roy was leaning against the porch railing.
You noticed him before anyone else. His red hair had grown slightly longer while you were gone, curling around his ears and at the nape of his neck. He wore a dark shirt with the sleeves pushed over his forearms, exposing the scars and freckles scattered across his skin. One ankle was crossed over the other, and his posture suggested he had been standing there casually rather than waiting for the first glimpse of green light in the sky.
Then Hal looked up. The spatula fell from his hand.
“There she is.”
You barely had time to dismiss your uniform before he reached you. Hal wrapped both arms around you, lifted you from the ground, and squeezed hard enough that your ribs protested despite the protective layer of energy your ring maintained around you.
“You’re late,” he said into your hair.
“By eleven minutes.”
“You came from space. You should have left earlier.”
“I came from another galaxy.”
“Traffic?”
“Terrible.”
His arms tightened again.
The teasing slipped from his voice when he said, “Welcome home, kid.”
Your throat tightened. Hal had called you that from the beginning, when you were fourteen and newly chosen by a ring neither of you understood. He had been your instructor first, then your guardian, and eventually your father in every way that mattered. The legal paperwork had come later, after years of family dinners and emergency contact forms on which neither of you knew what category to select.
You pressed your face briefly against his shoulder. “I missed you too.”
He set you down and immediately began examining you.
“You’re thinner.”
“I’m wearing fitted clothing.”
“When did you last eat?”
“On the ship.”
“That isn’t a time.”
“Three hours ago.”
“What did you eat?”
“Kyle made something.”
Hal looked over your shoulder.
Kyle had landed several feet behind you and dismissed his uniform. “Pasta.”
“From a packet,” you added.
“It contained all the necessary nutrients.”
“It contained powder.”
“Powder can be nutritious.”
Hal turned toward the grill. “I’m making her two burgers.”
“Make her three,” Oliver called.
“I can feed myself.”
“You clearly can’t,” Hal said.
Dinah rose to greet you, wrapping you in an embrace that was gentler than Hal’s and somehow warmer. Oliver followed, kissing your temple and informing you that he had personally prevented Hal from serving dinner two hours early.
“You arrived at three,” Hal said.
“I was helping.”
“You brought one bag of chips.”
“They were good chips.”
You laughed against Oliver’s shoulder before pulling away.
Roy had not moved from the porch. His gaze rested on you with a steadiness that made the backyard seem quieter than it was. The messages had been light, but his expression held something more complicated now that you were standing in front of him.
Relief, perhaps.
You crossed the grass.
“Harper.”
“Lantern.”
He waited until you reached him before unfolding his arms.
“You planning on greeting me properly?” you asked.
“I sent four messages.”
“One of them said you were charging interest on missed movie nights.”
“Emotional interest.”
“That isn’t a thing.”
“It is now.”
You opened your arms. Roy regarded you for another second, making a show of reluctance that neither of you believed. Then his hands settled around your waist, and he pulled you against him.
Your arms went around his neck. Roy hugged differently from Hal. He did not crush you or lift your feet from the ground. He held you carefully, one hand spread between your shoulder blades while the other rested at the curve of your waist, his forearm firm against your back.
The position brought your face close to his neck. He smelled like soap, machine oil, and the faint leather scent that clung to his equipment. Four months of alien air disappeared beneath one familiar breath.
“You took your time,” he murmured.
“I came home as soon as the assignment ended.”
“Could’ve staged a coup.”
“I was trying to prevent one.”
“See? Lack of initiative.”
His voice remained easy, but his hand tightened against your back.
You closed your eyes. “You missed me.”
“The crime rate increased while you were gone.”
“That sounds like a yes.”
“Property damage also increased.”
“You tracked property damage?”
“I was bored.”
“Because you missed me.”
“Because there was nothing good on television.”
You leaned back enough to see him. “You could have watched our list.”
“You said I wasn’t allowed to continue without you.”
“And you listened?”
“I have principles.”
“You broke into my bedroom when we were sixteen because you thought Hal had confiscated your arrows.”
“He had confiscated my arrows.”
“They were in Oliver’s car.”
“Where Hal put them.”
“Hal moved the car because you kept looking through the windows.”
“He was concealing evidence.”
You laughed.
Roy’s gaze dropped to your mouth.
His thumb moved once against your side before becoming still.
The contact made you abruptly aware of how little space there was between you. Roy’s chest rested against yours. Your arms remained looped around his neck, and his hand sat low enough on your waist that the warmth of it reached through your shirt.
Before either of you could decide what that meant, Kyle spoke behind you.
“Am I interrupting?”
Roy released you. You stepped back, trying not to react to the sudden absence of his hands.
Kyle approached with the duffel he had brought back from the assignment hanging from one shoulder. He looked from you to Roy, apparently registering nothing unusual about the way Roy’s jaw had tightened.
“Kyle, this is Roy Harper,” you said. “Roy, Kyle Rayner.”
“We’ve met,” Kyle said, extending his hand. “Briefly.”
“League meeting,” Roy replied.
“That was it. You had the exploding arrows.”
“I have several exploding arrows.”
“The ones shaped like boxing gloves.”
Roy stared at him.
Kyle frowned as he reconsidered. “Those might have been separate arrows.”
“They were.”
“Right.” Kyle smiled and shook his hand. “She talks about you.”
Roy glanced toward you. “Does she?”
“Mostly when something breaks.”
“I talk about him when other things happen.”
“Sometimes when something catches fire,” Kyle continued.
“That was one story.”
“You mentioned the chili incident twice.”
“Because it was funny.”
Roy released Kyle’s hand. “The chili was sabotaged.”
“You forgot it was on the stove,” you said.
“The stove ran hot.”
“You went to the store.”
“We needed sour cream.”
“You were gone for forty minutes.”
“The first store had the wrong brand.”
Kyle nodded with genuine interest. “This explains a lot.”
Roy’s attention sharpened. “About what?”
“Her standards for cooking.”
You covered a smile with your hand.
Kyle had not noticed anything. That was the worst part. His friendliness contained none of the deliberate edge Roy seemed to hear in it. Kyle was simply tired, pleased to be back on Earth, and apparently eager to meet the person who appeared in half the stories you told during long patrols.
Roy looked less pleased with every passing second.
Hal shouted from the grill. “Kyle, you want cheese?”
“Sure.”
“American, cheddar, or the one Dinah bought because she thinks we need to expand our horizons?”
“Cheddar.”
“Coward,” Dinah said.
Kyle set his bag near the porch. “Do I need to do anything?”
“Keep Hal away from the propane,” you said.
“The propane is fine,” Hal called.
Oliver pointed toward the grill. “He already singed his sleeve.”
“It was deliberate.”
“It was your favorite jacket.”
“Exactly. Tactical sacrifice.”
Kyle went to help, leaving you beside Roy.
Roy watched him cross the yard.
“He’s staying?”
“He has his own apartment.”
“I meant for dinner.”
“Hal invited him.”
“Hal invites strangers into his house.”
“Kyle isn’t a stranger.”
“Apparently.”
You studied Roy’s profile. “Are you being weird?”
“No.”
“That sounded weird.”
“Maybe four months in space affected your hearing.”
“My ring monitors my hearing.”
“Your ring is an enabler.”
Before you could press him, Hal called your name and demanded that you explain why the grill had begun making a clicking sound.
By the time you turned back, Roy had moved toward the table.
Dinner began at seven forty-three, which Dinah declared a personal victory.
You sat on one side of the picnic table with Kyle beside you. Roy sat directly across from you, one arm resting along the back of the bench while Oliver and Hal continued arguing over the proper way to season grilled corn.
For the first twenty minutes, everything felt almost exactly as it had before you left.
Hal asked too many questions about your health while pretending they were questions about the mission. Dinah wanted to know whether the diplomatic settlement would hold. Oliver listened to your explanation of the border dispute with surprising attentiveness until Hal revealed that he was actually waiting for an opportunity to compare the hostile planetary government to a city councilman he disliked.
Roy said little. He watched you.
You noticed every time his attention moved toward your face, your ring, or the small bruise along your wrist that had not quite faded. He noticed when you pushed aside the tomato from your burger and silently reached across the table to take it. You stole several fries from his plate in exchange.
The familiar rhythm should have relaxed him.
Then Kyle took one of your fries too.
Roy looked at his hand.
Kyle ate the fry without noticing. “Did you tell them about the negotiations on Vespasi?”
“I was getting there.”
“You have to tell them about the ceremonial robes.”
You groaned. “I absolutely do not.”
Hal leaned forward. “What robes?”
“The local council required diplomatic delegates to wear traditional clothing,” Kyle explained.
“What kind of clothing?” Dinah asked.
Kyle reached for another fry.
Roy moved his plate slightly out of reach.
Kyle switched to yours instead. “They were elaborate.”
“You said I looked nice.”
“You did look nice.”
“Then why did you laugh?”
“Because the sleeves were wider than you were.”
“You walked into a door.”
“The hood obstructed my vision.”
Oliver looked delighted. “Do you have pictures?”
“Of him walking into the door?”
“Of both.”
“My ring recorded the entire ceremony,” you said.
Kyle pulled his phone from his pocket. “I transferred a few.”
“You what?”
“For the mission archive.”
“You sent one to Guy.”
“He asked how negotiations were going.”
“You sent him the one with the crown.”
“You were wearing it.”
“It was six feet tall.”
“It was culturally significant.”
“You added sparkles.”
“The original image lacked drama.”
Roy looked between the two of you. “You have matching costumes?”
“Diplomatic robes,” you corrected.
“Matching diplomatic robes.”
“They weren’t matching,” Kyle said. “Hers were green.”
“Of course they were.”
“Mine were blue.”
Roy’s brows drew together. “Why blue?”
Kyle shrugged. “They thought it complemented her outfit.”
You felt Roy’s gaze settle on you.
“It was an arranged color scheme,” you explained.
“They also thought we were married,” Kyle added.
The table went quiet.
You closed your eyes. The misunderstanding had lasted less than an hour and had been corrected before negotiations formally began. It had not mattered enough to mention in the mission report, but Kyle delivered the information as casually as if he were commenting on the weather.
Roy’s hand became still around his glass.
Hal looked sharply at you. “They thought what?”
“The council assumed Lantern partners meant married partners,” you said. “We corrected them.”
“Eventually,” Kyle said.
Your knee struck his beneath the table.
He winced. “Immediately. We corrected them immediately.”
Roy leaned back. “Lantern partners.”
“It’s the standard term for two Lanterns assigned to the same mission,” Kyle explained.
“I know what it means.”
Kyle smiled. “Right. Sorry.”
Roy’s expression did not change.
You reached for one of his fries. He moved the plate back within your reach before you could ask.
Oliver took a slow drink, watching Roy over the rim of his glass with obvious amusement. Dinah noticed too. Her mouth curved, although she was kind enough not to say anything.
Hal was less restrained. “Why didn’t you tell me an alien government tried to marry you?”
“They didn’t try to marry us.”
“They prepared one room,” Kyle said.
You turned toward him. “Kyle.”
“What? They did.”
Roy’s glass touched the table with a quiet click.
“One room?” he asked.
“The lodging coordinator thought we were married,” you said.
“And there was a cultural prohibition against changing assigned accommodations after sunset,” Kyle added. “It was complicated.”
“So you shared a room.”
“We shared a suite.”
“It had one bed,” Kyle said.
Your ring could not protect him from you on Earth without a valid threat assessment.
You considered providing one.
Roy’s gaze moved from Kyle to you. “One bed.”
“I made another one with my ring.”
“It disappeared when you fell asleep,” Kyle reminded you.
“I slept on the sofa.”
“For an hour.”
“Then the sofa disappeared.”
Roy folded his arms. “Because you fell asleep.”
“Yes.”
“In the bed.”
“At the edge.”
Kyle nodded. “She kicks.”
“I kicked you once.”
“Three times.”
“You were stealing the blankets.”
“They were communal blankets.”
“There is no such thing.”
Kyle glanced toward the others. “She also talks in her sleep.”
Roy’s expression shifted.
You felt heat rise into your face. “I do not.”
“You do.”
“What did I say?”
“I couldn’t understand most of it.”
“Most?”
“You said Roy’s name once.”
Every head at the table turned toward you.
Kyle continued eating his burger.
The silence apparently failed to register.
Roy’s voice was quieter when he asked, “She did?”
“Probably because she was trying to remember the chili story.” Kyle looked at you. “That was the night you told me about it, wasn’t it?”
“I don’t know.”
“You also stole my pillow.”
“I was asleep.”
“You tucked it under your arm and told me to get my own.”
Roy’s jaw tightened.
Kyle finally seemed to notice that the conversation had changed.
He looked around the table. “Did I say something?”
“No,” Roy replied. “You’ve said plenty.”
“Roy,” you warned.
“What?”
Kyle glanced between you. “Should I—”
“Tell us about the weapons shipment,” Dinah said smoothly.
Grateful for the change of subject, Kyle began explaining the criminal operation that had complicated the final week of your assignment.
Roy remained quiet.
You watched him instead of listening. His irritation was obvious now, although he kept it contained beneath the rigid set of his shoulders and the small crease between his brows. He was not angry at you. You knew Roy well enough to recognize the difference.
He was uncomfortable. Worse, he was trying to hide it.
When Kyle reached across you for the mustard, his shoulder brushed yours. Roy’s gaze followed the movement.
You leaned back slightly.
Kyle thanked you and continued speaking, unaware that he had just made Roy’s grip tighten around his fork.
A few minutes later, he casually rested his arm behind you along the top of the bench to make room for Hal when he squeezed past. His hand remained several inches from your shoulder.
Roy stared at it as though Kyle had produced a weapon.
You bit the inside of your cheek.
There was something almost endearing about his complete inability to disguise jealousy once you knew what you were looking for. Roy had always been quick to needle anyone who paid you too much attention, but you had assumed it was the same overprotective instinct he applied to most of the people he loved.
This felt different.
It felt promising.
Then Kyle leaned toward you and quietly asked whether you had remembered to deactivate the translator implant before it reset overnight.
You turned your head to answer him.
From Roy’s angle, the movement must have looked intimate. Kyle’s face was close to yours, his voice too low for anyone else to hear, and one of his hands rested on the bench behind your back.
Roy stood.
The bench scraped against the patio stones.
Everyone stopped speaking.
“I need another drink,” he said.
His glass was still half full.
Oliver looked at it. “Do you?”
“Yes.”
Roy took the glass with him and crossed the yard toward the house. The screen door snapped shut behind him.
Hal watched him go. “What’s wrong with Roy?”
Oliver stared at his best friend. “You really don’t know?”
“Know what?”
Dinah sighed. “Fourteen years.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means you owe me fifty dollars,” Oliver said.
“For what?”
“The bet.”
Hal frowned. “That bet expired when they turned twenty-one.”
“You don’t get to invent expiration dates because you’re losing.”
You pushed away from the table.
Kyle looked concerned. “Did I offend him?”
“No.”
“Are you sure? He seemed fine when we arrived.”
“You didn’t do anything.”
“I kept taking his fries.”
“You took everyone’s fries.”
“That might be the problem.”
“It isn’t.”
Kyle lowered his voice. “Do you want me to apologize?”
The sincerity in his face removed any remaining suspicion that he had been trying to provoke Roy. Kyle genuinely had no idea what he had done, because he had done nothing except behave with the ease of someone who had spent months beside you.
That ease was the problem.
“It’s okay,” you said. “I’ll talk to him.”
You left the table before Hal could ask another question.
Behind you, Oliver said, “Pay up.”
“I still don’t understand what we bet on.”
“That’s why the odds were so good.”
The kitchen smelled faintly of charcoal smoke and whatever seasoning Hal had spilled across the counter earlier.
Roy stood at the sink with his back to the doorway. His half-full glass sat beside him while he ran water over his hands, even though there was nothing on them that needed washing.
“You left my welcome-home dinner,” you said.
“It’s Hal’s house.”
“He cooked for me.”
“He burned food in your honor.”
“It was touching.”
Roy shut off the faucet and reached for a dish towel. “Kyle wondering where you are?”
“He thinks you’re upset about the fries.”
“He should stop stealing people’s food.”
“You drank from my milkshake the first time we met.”
“I was fourteen.”
“You finished it.”
“You said you didn’t want the rest.”
“I said I wanted a napkin.”
“You were unclear.”
You stepped farther into the kitchen and pulled the back door closed behind you. The sounds from the yard softened to a blur beneath the hum of the refrigerator and the quiet rush of water still draining from the sink.
Roy dried his hands longer than necessary.
“Talk to me,” you said.
“I am talking.”
“You’re pretending to wash clean hands in Hal’s kitchen while sulking.”
“I don’t sulk.”
“You left because Kyle leaned near me.”
“He was practically sitting on you.”
“He was asking about my translator.”
“That isn’t better.”
You blinked. “How?”
“I don’t know. It sounded intimate.”
“A translator implant sounds intimate?”
“He whispered.”
“Because Hal was talking.”
“Hal’s always talking.”
“So everyone who wants to speak to me should leave the yard?”
Roy tossed the dish towel onto the counter and braced both hands against its edge. “I know I’m being an asshole.”
The admission surprised you into silence.
He looked down between his hands.
“I know Kyle didn’t do anything,” he continued. “He seems nice. He’s probably great. Everyone likes him.”
“You like him.”
“I liked him before tonight.”
“You dislike him because we shared a bed?”
“You didn’t share a bed.”
“We technically did.”
His head lifted.
You tried not to smile. “For part of one night.”
“That isn’t helping.”
“I’m trying to understand.”
“You understand.”
“I think I do, but I want to hear you say it.”
Roy laughed once without humor. “Of course you do.”
He pushed away from the counter and turned to face you fully. The kitchen was not small, but his movement changed the room, making the space between you feel more deliberate.
“You disappear for four months,” he said. “Then you come home with a guy who knows what you look like in ceremonial robes, knows how you sleep, knows the things you say when you’re dreaming, and apparently spent half the assignment sharing rooms with you.”
“One room.”
“That distinction isn’t making me feel better.”
“He knows those things because we were working together.”
“I know.”
“Kyle isn’t interested in me.”
Roy’s mouth tightened. “He called you his partner.”
“He is my partner.”
“I know what it means.”
“Then why are you acting like he announced an engagement?”
“Because he can go with you.”
The irritation left his voice as quickly as it had come.
You stared at him.
Roy looked toward the window rather than your face. “He can fly out of the atmosphere beside you. He understands Corps assignments, alien customs, whatever the hell a translator implant does. When you tell him something happened three sectors away, he knows where that is without pretending he’ll look it up later.”
“You look things up?”
“Sometimes.”
“Roy.”
“He fits into that part of your life.”
The words emerged reluctantly, stripped of the humor he usually used to conceal anything that might hurt.
“And I don’t,” he finished.
Your chest tightened.
Roy had never asked you to give up the ring. Even when you were younger and assignments frightened both of you, he understood that being a Lantern was not something you could separate from yourself. The ring had chosen you, but Hal had taught you that the choice to answer belonged to you each time.
Roy had always respected that choice.
You had not realized he believed it was taking you somewhere he could not follow.
“You fit into every part of my life,” you said.
“That isn’t true.”
“It is.”
“Do you talk about me on Oa?”
“All the time.”
“Kyle knows the chili story.”
“Everyone knows the chili story.”
“Great.”
“He knew your name before you met.”
Roy’s gaze returned to yours.
“You were the first person I called after my promotion,” you reminded him. “You helped me choose the apartment I barely use. You have access codes to my ship.”
“The ship tried to eject me.”
“You insulted its navigation system.”
“It took us through an asteroid field.”
“It was avoiding a solar flare.”
“It could have mentioned that.”
“You argued with an artificial intelligence for twenty minutes.”
“It started it.”
You stepped closer.
Roy watched you cross the remaining space between you, but he did not move away.
“When the assignment became difficult, I wanted to talk to you,” you said. “When Kyle made me laugh, I thought about whether you would have laughed too. When I couldn’t sleep, I listened to the messages you sent, even the one where you complained about a delivery driver parking in front of the building.”
“He blocked the entrance.”
“For thirty seconds.”
“It was inconsiderate.”
“I know.”
You stopped in front of him.
Roy’s hands hung at his sides, close enough to touch you but held carefully still.
“Kyle can go into space with me,” you said. “That doesn’t make him home.”
Something shifted in Roy’s expression.
You continued before courage failed you. “You are.”
He stared at you.
The refrigerator hummed behind him. Somewhere outside, Hal laughed loudly enough that the sound carried through the closed door, followed by Dinah telling him to lower his voice.
Roy did not seem to hear any of it.
“You should be careful,” he said.
“Why?”
“Because I’m already jealous enough to hate a perfectly decent guy over some fries.”
“I noticed.”
“You telling me things like that isn’t going to help.”
“I’m not trying to help.”
His gaze dropped to your mouth.
The warmth beneath your skin spread lower.
“What are you trying to do?” he asked.
“Get you to admit why you’re jealous.”
“I thought I just did.”
“You admitted Kyle fits into my Lantern life.”
“He does.”
“You haven’t admitted why that matters.”
Roy looked at you for a long moment.
His voice was quieter when he said, “Because I’m in love with you.”
The words settled between you with startling simplicity.
You had imagined hearing them before. Sometimes after long missions, when exhaustion stripped away your better judgment. Sometimes during nights spent on Roy’s couch, your feet tangled beneath a blanket while he pretended not to notice when you leaned against him.
In your imagination, he always delivered the confession smoothly.
The reality was better.
Roy looked irritated by his own vulnerability, his shoulders tense and his hands curled as though he needed something to hold. There was no performance in it. He was not trying to charm you or make the words less frightening with a joke.
He was only telling the truth.
“How long?” you asked.
His expression became wary. “Does it matter?”
“I want to know.”
“Seventeen.”
Your lips parted.
Roy gave a small, embarrassed shrug. “Maybe sixteen. You wore that green dress to Dinah’s birthday and threatened to throw me off the roof because I said it made you look like a traffic light.”
“You said a sexy traffic light.”
“You remember.”
“I remember throwing you into the pool.”
“You ruined my jacket.”
“You deserved it.”
“I still thought you looked good.”
You smiled despite the ache in your chest. “You’ve been in love with me since we were teenagers?”
“Unfortunately.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You were seventeen.”
“So were you.”
“You had just started training off-world. Every time I saw you, you had another story about some planet I couldn’t pronounce. You looked happy.”
“I was happy.”
“Exactly.”
“That doesn’t explain anything.”
Roy sighed and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “You had a whole universe opening up in front of you. I wasn’t going to be the guy who asked you to stay because he finally figured out what everyone else already knew.”
“You think loving you would have made me stay?”
“I thought it might make leaving harder.”
“It was already hard.”
His hand lowered.
You closed the last inch between you and placed your palm against his chest.
Roy inhaled.
His heartbeat moved quickly beneath your hand.
“You were always the hardest part,” you said.
His fingers settled around your wrist, holding you there. “You don’t get to say things like that after letting me think you and Rayner were sharing a honeymoon suite.”
“It was a diplomatic residence.”
“One bed.”
“I built another bed.”
“It disappeared.”
“You were listening closely.”
“I was suffering.”
You laughed.
Roy’s eyes narrowed, but his thumb moved over the inside of your wrist.
“You’re enjoying this,” he accused.
“A little.”
“I walked away from dinner because Kyle leaned close to you.”
“I saw.”
“Oliver’s never going to let me forget that.”
“He’ll be too busy collecting his bet.”
“What bet?”
“I’m not sure, but Hal owes him fifty dollars.”
Roy closed his eyes. “They bet on us?”
“Apparently.”
“I hate our family.”
“Our family?”
His eyes opened again.
You smiled.
Roy’s hand tightened around your wrist.
“That was deliberate,” he said.
“Maybe.”
“You’re a menace.”
“You missed me.”
“I did.”
The honesty in the answer erased your teasing.
You raised your other hand to his face, letting your fingers follow the edge of his jaw. The faint roughness there caught against your skin.
Roy became very still.
“I missed you too,” you said.
“How much?”
The question was soft, but his gaze had darkened.
You moved closer until your body brushed his. “Enough to think about you while I was sharing that bed with Kyle.”
Roy’s hand left your wrist and settled at your waist.
“That’s cruel.”
“Nothing happened.”
“I know.”
“I slept for four hours. Kyle complained that I stole the blanket. We spent the next morning arguing with a council about mining rights.”
“I know.”
“You’re still thinking about the bed.”
“I’m trying not to.”
“Do you want help?”
His fingers flexed against your side.
“You should probably explain what kind of help you’re offering.”
You rose onto your toes and kissed him.
Roy froze.
For one terrible second, you wondered whether you had misunderstood everything. Then his hand slid around your back and pulled you firmly against him.
He kissed you like he had been waiting years and resented every second of it.
The first press of his mouth was almost careful, but it lasted only until your fingers slid into his hair. Roy made a quiet sound against your lips, turned you with him, and walked you backward until your shoulders met the closed back door.
One hand braced beside your head. The other remained at your waist, his thumb pressing into the narrow strip of skin exposed where your shirt had shifted.
You kissed him again before he could speak.
His mouth opened beneath yours.
Roy had always been tactile. He threw an arm around your shoulders, leaned against you on the couch, and touched your back when guiding you through crowds. You had spent years pretending those casual points of contact did not leave warmth behind.
There was nothing casual about him now.
His body settled against yours, solid and hot, one thigh easing between your legs as he deepened the kiss. Your ring registered the increase in your pulse and offered to perform a medical scan.
You silenced it with a thought.
Roy pulled back just far enough to breathe. “Did your ring just say something?”
“No.”
“It chimed.”
“It’s nosy.”
“Can it see us?”
“It doesn’t have eyes.”
“Can it record us?”
“Not without authorization.”
“Good.”
His mouth returned to yours.
You laughed into the kiss, and Roy’s hand slid from your waist to your hip. He pressed you more firmly against the door, his thigh shifting until the pressure made your breath catch.
He noticed.
Of course he noticed.
Roy drew back, his lips brushing yours when he spoke. “That okay?”
“Yes.”
“You sure?”
You used the grip you had on his hair to pull him closer. “Harper.”
His mouth curved against yours. “That sounds like a yes.”
He kissed the corner of your lips and moved lower, his mouth tracing your jaw before settling against the side of your neck. Your head tipped back against the door.
Roy’s hand slipped beneath the hem of your shirt.
His palm spread over your bare side, warm and roughened by years of archery. His thumb moved beneath your ribs while his lips found the place below your ear that had always made you shiver when he touched it accidentally.
There was nothing accidental now.
“Roy.”
He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to your pulse. “I’ve wanted to hear you say my name like that for a long time.”
“How long?”
“Don’t make me answer questions while I’m trying to kiss you.”
“You were the one who wanted honesty.”
“I’ve changed my mind.”
His teeth grazed your skin.
Your fingers tightened in his hair, and Roy exhaled against your neck. The sound sent a sharper rush of warmth through you.
“You keep doing that,” he murmured, “and your dad’s going to find us in a situation nobody wants to explain.”
“My dad has been waiting for this since we were teenagers.”
“Hal threatened me when I asked if you had a date to prom.”
“He threatened everyone.”
“He showed me the ring and said space was very large.”
“That was subtle for him.”
Roy lifted his head. His lips were flushed, and his hair stood unevenly beneath your fingers.
You had known him almost half your life.
You had never seen him look at you quite like this.
His gaze traveled over your face before dropping down the length of your body. The movement was unhurried, open enough to make heat gather beneath your skin.
“You’re staring,” you said.
“I’m making up for lost time.”
“You had fourteen years.”
“I was trying to behave.”
“You were terrible at it.”
“That’s probably why Hal threatened to leave me in space.”
You hooked one finger into the collar of his shirt and drew him back. “I could protect you.”
“From a Green Lantern?”
“I’m a Green Lantern.”
“You’re biased.”
“I’m very biased.”
Roy kissed you again, slower this time. The edge of desperation softened into something deeper, although his hand continued moving beneath your shirt, following the curve of your waist before stopping just below the band of your bra.
He gave you time to object.
You didn’t.
His fingertips traced the edge of the fabric.
Your hips shifted against his thigh.
Roy broke the kiss with a rough breath. His forehead dropped against yours.
“You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”
You looked down between your bodies.
“I have some idea.”
“Don’t.”
You smiled. “You’re the one pressing me against a door.”
“You kissed me.”
“You confessed your love.”
“You accused me of being jealous.”
“You were jealous.”
“I’m still jealous.”
“Kyle has probably eaten all your fries by now.”
Roy groaned and buried his face against your neck. “I was starting to forget he existed.”
“You brought him up.”
“Because you’re evil.”
“You love me.”
“Deeply unfortunate.”
His mouth returned to the mark he had left on your neck.
You turned your face into his hair, breathing him in. “Kyle really isn’t interested in me.”
“I believe you.”
“He’s going to be horrified when he realizes why you left.”
“I’ll apologize.”
“You’ll apologize?”
“Eventually.”
“You were rude to him.”
“I shook his hand.”
“You interrogated him about cheese.”
“He seemed suspicious.”
“He asked for cheddar.”
“Exactly.”
You laughed, and Roy lifted his head.
For a moment, the jealousy and humor faded. He touched your cheek, his thumb moving slowly beneath your eye.
“You’re really home?” he asked.
The question carried more weight than the words should have held.
You understood anyway.
“For a while,” you said. “The Corps approved two months of Earth rotation. After that, I’ll probably take shorter assignments.”
“Probably?”
“I can request them.”
“For me?”
“For myself.” You leaned into his hand. “Because I’m tired of pretending Earth is only somewhere I visit between missions.”
Roy studied your face. “I don’t want you changing your life because I was an asshole over Kyle.”
“I’m not changing it for you.”
“Good.”
“I’m making room for you.”
His expression softened.
“That’s worse,” he said.
“Why?”
“Because now I want to kiss you again.”
“That sounds terrible.”
“It’s a burden.”
You tugged him closer by his shirt. “Be brave.”
Roy’s mouth had barely touched yours when someone knocked hard against the other side of the back door.
Both of you went still.
“Dinner’s getting cold,” Hal called.
Roy closed his eyes.
You pressed your lips together to keep from laughing.
A second voice came through the door. “You’ve been gone long enough for the burgers to qualify as leftovers,” Oliver added.
“We were talking,” Roy said.
“Sure you were.”
Hal knocked again. “Also, keep the door unlocked.”
“It is unlocked,” you called.
There was a pause.
“That isn’t better,” Hal replied.
Roy lowered his forehead to your shoulder. “I’m never coming back here again.”
“You say that every time.”
“This time I mean it.”
“You promised Hal you’d help him fix the fence next Saturday.”
“I’ll fake my death.”
Oliver’s voice came next. “We can hear you.”
“Go away,” Roy said.
“We’re trying to eat dessert.”
“Then eat it.”
“Kyle asked if he should save you pie,” Hal added.
Roy lifted his head. “Tell him to stop being so nice.”
You laughed hard enough that your shoulders shook beneath his hands.
Roy stared at you for a moment, then began smiling despite himself.
“This is your fault,” he said.
“You were the one acting jealous.”
“You slept in another man’s bed.”
“You’re never letting that go, are you?”
“Maybe in ten years.”
“You were in love with me for almost that long without saying anything.”
“That’s different.”
“How?”
“I suffered quietly.”
“You walked away from dinner in front of everyone.”
“I said quietly, not subtly.”
Hal knocked again. “Are you dressed?”
Roy looked toward the door with something close to despair.
You caught his face between your hands and kissed him before he could answer. The sound outside disappeared for several seconds beneath the warmth of his mouth and the immediate tightening of his hands around your waist.
When you pulled back, Roy followed, trying to continue the kiss.
“We should go outside,” you murmured.
“We really shouldn’t.”
“They’re waiting.”
“They can keep waiting.”
“Kyle might eat your pie.”
Roy’s eyes opened.
“You fight dirty.”
“I learned from you.”
He looked at your mouth, then at the door, visibly weighing his options. “We’re continuing this later.”
“That sounds threatening.”
“It is.”
“How much later?”
Roy’s hand slid down to your hip. “As soon as I figure out how to get you out of your father’s house without being shot into orbit.”
“My room has a lock.”
He stared at you.
You smiled.
Roy’s gaze darkened all over again. “You can’t say that while I’m trying to behave.”
“I thought you gave up on behaving.”
“I’m trying to preserve what remains of my relationship with Hal.”
“He’ll survive.”
“I might not.”
You opened the back door. Hal and Oliver stood on the other side. Dinah remained at the table, watching with her chin resting on one hand. Kyle sat beside her with a plate of pie, his expression concerned.
Roy immediately removed his hand from beneath your shirt.
Hal’s eyes moved from your swollen lips to the mark on your neck and then to Roy’s rumpled hair.
His face went completely blank.
Oliver held out his hand. Without looking away from Roy, Hal reached into his pocket, took out his wallet, and placed several bills in Oliver’s palm.
“You bet against us?” you asked.
“I didn’t bet against you,” Hal said.
“You said they’d take another five years,” Oliver replied.
“I was being realistic.”
“You thought I was going to wait five more years?” Roy asked.
Hal looked at him. “You waited this long.”
“That was different.”
“You were scared.”
“I was respecting her career.”
“You were scared,” Oliver repeated.
Roy pointed toward the driveway. “I can leave.”
“You just said you were never coming back,” you reminded him.
Kyle looked between the two of you.
His gaze paused on Roy’s hair, then your neck.
Understanding slowly crossed his face.
“Ooooh,” he said.
Roy folded his arms.
Kyle placed his fork down. “Were you jealous of me?”
“No.”
“Yes,” everyone else said.
Kyle looked horrified. “I didn’t know.”
“I know,” you assured him.
“I kept talking about the bed.”
“You did.”
“And the robes.”
“Yes.”
“And I put my arm behind you.”
Roy’s expression tightened. “You can stop listing things.”
“I’m sorry.”
Roy sighed. “You didn’t do anything.”
“I ate your fries.”
“That was personal.”
“I’ll get you more.”
“See?” Roy looked at you. “He’s impossible to hate.”
“You tried.”
“I committed.”
Kyle pushed the plate of pie toward him. “Peace offering?”
Roy considered it.
“What kind?”
“Apple.”
“With cheddar?”
Kyle frowned. “Why would it have cheddar?”
Roy accepted the plate. “All right. We’re good.”
Hal pointed the spatula at him. “You and I are talking later.”
Roy took a bite of pie. “About what?”
“Boundaries.”
“You invited me.”
“To dinner. Not to make out with my daughter in my kitchen.”
Roy glanced behind him. “It’s technically her kitchen too.”
“That is not helping you,” Hal informed him sternly.
Oliver shook his head. “Nothing you say is going to help you.”
“The chili was not my fault,” Roy said.
“It burned through a pot,” you reminded him.
Roy glanced toward you. “Are you on my side at all?”
You stepped closer and slipped your hand into his.
His fingers closed around yours immediately.
“I’m standing beside you.”
“That isn’t the same thing.”
“It’s what you’re getting.”
Roy looked down at your joined hands.
His expression softened despite the audience.
“I’ll take it,” he said.
Roy stayed until the others began leaving.
Kyle departed first, collecting his duffel from beside the porch after apologizing twice more for accidentally making Roy jealous. Roy claimed he had not been jealous at all, which might have been more convincing if he had not kept one hand on your waist throughout the conversation.
Dinah hugged you goodnight and whispered that she expected details later. Oliver kissed the top of your head, gave Roy a look that promised he would be hearing about tonight for years, and followed her toward the driveway.
Eventually, the last of the guests had gone, leaving you, Roy, and Hal behind. Hal washed dishes with unnecessary force while Roy carried the remaining plates in from the backyard. The silence between them grew heavier with every trip.
You leaned against the counter and watched them avoid eye contact.
Finally, Hal shut off the faucet.
“You hurt her,” he said, “and I’m sending you to the edge of known space.”
Roy dried his hands. “Fair.”
“I’ll revoke your house privileges.”
“That seems worse.”
“It is.”
“Dad.”
Hal looked at you. “I’m being supportive.”
“You’re threatening him.”
“I threatened him years ago. This is a reminder.”
Roy set down the towel. “I love her.”
Hal’s expression changed.
The words sounded different here than they had when the two of you were alone earlier. Less desperate, perhaps, but no less certain.
“I know,” Hal said.
Roy blinked.
“You know?”
“I’ve known since you were seventeen.”
“Then why did you threaten me?”
“You were seventeen.”
“That seems unfair.”
“It was extremely fair.”
Hal looked toward you. “You love him?”
You met Roy’s gaze.
His hand found yours beside the counter.
“Yes.”
Hal exhaled and rubbed both hands over his face. “Great.”
“You don’t sound happy.”
“I am happy.” He lowered his hands. “I’m thrilled. My daughter is dating Oliver Queen’s son. This is a wonderful development that cannot possibly make family dinners more complicated.”
“Roy isn’t his son,” you said.
“Tell Oliver that.”
Roy’s thumb moved across your knuckles. He looked at Hal before saying, “I was planning to take her back to my place tonight. Are you okay with that?”
You glanced at him. “You know we don’t need permission.”
“I know.” Roy’s fingers tightened gently around yours. “I’m asking because you’ve been home for six hours, he’s your dad, and I’d rather not start this by being more of an asshole than necessary.”
Hal stared at him for a moment.
Roy held his gaze without backing down, although there was nothing challenging in his expression. He was not asking Hal to decide for you. He was acknowledging that taking you away on your first night home mattered to the man who had spent four months waiting for you to return.
“I know you are.” Hal looked toward you. “You’re an adult. I don’t get a vote.”
“You get an opinion.”
“Oh, I have several.”
Roy’s mouth twitched. “I assumed.”
Hal pointed at him. “Breakfast is at nine. Both of you.”
“We’ll be here,” Roy promised.
You leaned against Roy’s shoulder as his arm settled around your waist. He turned his head and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, the gesture so easy and affectionate that your chest tightened.
Hal watched the movement. Something fond reluctantly softened the concern on his face before he turned back toward the sink.
You waited until his back was to you before murmuring, “Nine is optimistic.”
Roy’s arm tightened around you.
“You’re going to kill me,” he whispered.
You looked up at him. “Be brave.”
His smile was slow, warm, and just dangerous enough to make your stomach tighten.
Behind you, Hal dropped a plate into the sink.
“I heard that.”
You pressed your lips together, but Roy made no effort to hide his smile.
Hal set the plate down with exaggerated care. “I’m choosing to believe the two of you are capable of exercising judgment.”
“That seems optimistic,” Roy said.
“Roy.”
“I’m done.”
“You said that like you expect me to congratulate you.”
Roy glanced toward you. “Do you think he wants me to apologize?”
“I think he wants you to stop talking.”
“That feels unreasonable.”
Hal pointed toward the front of the house. “Go before I reconsider how maturely I’m handling this.”
You pushed away from Roy long enough to cross the kitchen. Hal’s irritation softened before you reached him, and when you wrapped your arms around him, he held you tightly enough to remind you of the moment you had landed in the backyard hours earlier.
“I’ll be back for breakfast,” you promised.
“I know.”
“And I’ll message you when we get there.”
“I was going to ask.”
“You always do.”
“You spend months crossing galaxies without telling me when you’ve slept, eaten, or entered an active war zone. I’m allowed to ask for one message when you travel fifteen minutes across Coast City.”
“You’ll get your message.”
Hal kissed your temple before releasing you. “I’m glad you’re home.”
The words caught somewhere beneath your ribs.
“Me too.”
Roy waited beside the counter, giving the two of you the moment without trying to interrupt it. When Hal finally looked toward him, Roy straightened slightly.
“Nine,” Hal said.
“We’ll be here.”
“Not nine thirty.”
“Nine.”
“And don’t let her claim she isn’t hungry.”
“I know what she’ll eat.”
Hal studied him for a moment, apparently reassured that Roy knew the answer without needing to think about it.
“Fine,” he said. “You can keep her.”
“That wasn’t really in question,” you reminded him.
“I was talking to myself.”
Roy took your hand as you passed him. Hal followed the two of you to the front door, where he repeated the breakfast instructions and watched from the porch while you crossed the driveway. His truck sat beneath the yellow wash of the streetlight. He opened the passenger door for you, one hand resting against its frame.
You looked from him to the open seat. “I can fly.”
“I know.”
“My ring could have me at your apartment before you finish walking around the truck.”
“I know that too.”
“But you still want to drive.”
Roy’s mouth curved. “I’ve spent four months waiting for you to come home. Let me have fifteen more minutes.”
The answer softened something inside you. You climbed into the truck.
Roy shut the door and circled the front, sliding behind the wheel a moment later. He started the engine but did not immediately pull away. Instead, he rested one hand against the steering wheel and looked toward you in the dim light from the dashboard.
“What?” you asked.
“I’m checking.”
“Checking what?”
“That this actually happened.”
“You accused Kyle of seducing me with cheddar cheese, confessed that you’ve been in love with me since we were teenagers, and made out with me in my father’s kitchen.”
“I didn’t accuse him of seducing you with cheese.”
“You found his choice suspicious.”
“It lacked imagination.”
“You asked for cheddar on the pie.”
“That was different.”
“How?”
“I was establishing dominance.”
You laughed, and Roy’s expression softened as he watched you.
He reached across the center console and touched your face, his thumb moving over your cheek with none of the urgency that had shaped his hands in the kitchen. This kiss was gentler too, lingering without deepening into something that would keep you parked outside Hal’s house until he came to investigate.
When Roy pulled back, he did not move far.
“You can still change your mind,” he said.
“About going home with you?”
“About any of it.” His fingers slipped into your hair. “You got back today. The dinner turned into an interrogation, I behaved like an asshole, and now everyone we know thinks we’re dating.”
“Are we not?”
Roy paused. “I was trying to be responsible.”
“You’re doing a terrible job.”
“I’m out of practice.”
You leaned closer. “I had four months to miss you and almost fourteen years to fall in love with you. I’m not changing my mind.”
The last of the uncertainty left his face.
“Almost fourteen?”
“You were annoying when we met.”
“I was charming.”
“You drank my milkshake.”
“You weren’t drinking it.”
“I was looking for a napkin.”
“We remember that evening very differently.”
Roy kissed you once more before finally putting the truck into reverse.
The drive to his apartment was familiar enough that you could have followed the route with your eyes closed. Coast City passed outside the window in quiet streets and warm storefronts, smaller than the worlds you had crossed but more precious for the lives contained within it. Roy kept one hand on the wheel and the other linked with yours across the center console, his thumb moving absently over your knuckles whenever the truck stopped at a light.
His apartment looked almost exactly as it had when you left.
Your green mug remained beside his in the cabinet. The blanket you always stole was folded across the back of the couch, and a stack of takeout menus occupied the corner of the coffee table. Beneath the television remote sat the movie list that the two of you had been working through before your assignment.
You picked it up.
The last completed title had been crossed out in your handwriting. Everything beneath it remained untouched.
“You really waited.”
Roy locked the door behind him. “I told you I have principles.”
“You watched three seasons of that detective show without me.”
“That wasn’t on the list.”
“That was a technicality.”
“It was a legally sound distinction.”
You lowered the paper. “Four months is a lot of movie nights.”
“You owe interest.”
“Emotional interest?”
“I established the terms before you entered Earth’s atmosphere.”
Roy approached until the coffee table pressed lightly against the backs of your legs. His hands settled at your waist, and the look in his eyes made it clear that the television would not be in use immediately.
You rested your arms around his neck. “How were you planning to collect?”
“I had several ideas.”
“Any of them involve an actual movie?”
“Eventually.”
Your ring chimed.
A message from Hal appeared between you in glowing green letters.
NINE MEANS NINE.
Roy looked at it. You looked at him.
A second message appeared.
AND EAT SOMETHING BEFORE BED.
Roy closed his eyes. “He’s going to do this all night, isn’t he?”
“Probably.”
“Can you block him?”
“He raised me.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
You dismissed the message and curled your fingers into the back of Roy’s shirt. “The ring has a silent mode.”
His eyes opened. “That might be the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“You’re easily impressed.”
“I’ve been waiting fourteen years. Let me be impressed.”
Roy drew you against him, his mouth finding yours as the movie list slipped from your fingers onto the couch. Beyond the apartment walls, Earth continued turning beneath the same stars that had followed you across three sectors and four long months away.
The universe would still be there tomorrow.
Tonight, you let Roy pull you closer, and you stayed exactly where you wanted to be.
credit to @uzmacchiato for the cherry divider and @toxisyddy for the Arsenal divider ❤️💛
