The League was mid-mission, battling yet another alien invasion. The sky was thick with smoke, warships loomed overhead, and explosions rocked the battlefield. And in the middle of it all, Hal was doing what he did best—talking big sh*t while flying straight into danger.

"Come on, is that all you got?" he taunted, weaving through the chaos with glowing green constructs flaring to life around him. "At least try to make it interesting—"

He never got to finish that sentence. Something cut right through his shields, slamming into him with enough force to send him plummeting from the sky.

For a split second, he thought: Oh. This is how I die.

The wind roared in his ears, his vision blurred, and the ground was coming way too fast—but before he could become nothing more than a very unfortunate stain on the pavement, someone caught him.

The Kryptonian's arms wrapped around him, halting his fall with ease. Their expression was tight with concern, brows furrowed as they guided them both to solid ground. Hal barely registered his own body being lowered, his back pressing against the cracked pavement as his rescuer knelt beside him.

He groaned, coughing as he tried to shake the daze. "Damn. That sucked."

His whole body ached, head pounding, ribs screaming in protest as he forced himself upright. He rubbed at his temples, trying to blink the world back into focus.

And then… he looked at them. Really looked at them. Concern was written all over their face. They just saved him.

And Hal's brain—still rattled, still a little reckless from the near-death experience—did the worst possible thing it could do: it started spiraling. He almost died. Life was short. He should do something stupid.

So, without thinking, he grabbed their face and kissed them.

It was quick, bold, and very impulsive. And yet… better than he expected. When he pulled back, dazed but grinning, he exhaled, "you know, I think I liked that better than getting vaporized."

And if they didn't stop him soon? Yeah—he was definitely going in for another one.