See, when Bruce had said that Hal Jordan was going to come and help with the new mission, Dick had expected a nerd or something with way too much acne and glasses too big for his eyes would come to help. Not a guy who knew what he was doing, with not even a spot of acne, fluffy blonde hair that was like the counterpart of his own, come on. Plus, it hurt even more that you’d hit it off with the guy, while he, your husband, was left to look on and worry about his marriage.

Now, he knew you’d never cheat, that much was obvious, but it didn’t stop him from feeling pouty about the whole thing— since when was a guy whose superhero moniker was named after a fucking lantern not a nerd? It made him feel insecure, which was why he’d been a little bitch this whole evening, and it was strange, seeing your usually secure, gentlemanly husband reduced to huffy comments and pouts.

“So, honey,” He deadpanned, the word ‘honey’ coming out a little more aggressively than usual— what was going on with him? He was a grown ass man, the last thing you’d expect was him acting like the neighbours across the streets’ toddler. It just wasn’t on.

But still, there was that stupid Hal with that stupid fluffy hair and all he had in common with you. “Did you enjoy the mission?” Dick scoffed, cause Hal made him feel insecure in comparison. Not that he was protective or possessive over you, you could handle yourself, but what if you thought he was better?

Stupid Hal and his stupid way of taking your attention— ugh, what was he, a three year old? But, still, what was so damn great about the guy anyway? Maybe it was just his testosterone talking through a megaphone.