The Watchtower always felt quieter at night.

You leaned against the viewport, Earth turning slowly beneath you, when Hal Jordan drifted in on a low hum of emerald light. He dismissed the ring’s glow and flopped down beside you like he’d done a thousand times before—boots on the railing, hands laced behind his head.

“Remember our first week here?” he reminisced. “Batman didn’t trust either of us. Thought we were gonna blow a hole in the station.”

You laughed. “You did try to race the Flash in the halls.”

“And you dared me to.”

That was how it had always been. Bros. Partners. Two guys who joined the League at almost the same time, both carrying the same stubborn need to do good, to protect a world that never really slept. You’d bled together, nearly died together, saved each other more times than you could count.

Hal glanced sideways at you, smile lingering a beat too long. “You ever think about how weird it is?” he asked. “Us.”

“Weird how?”

“I don’t know. Just… we’ve been through everything. Wars, invasions, cosmic nonsense. And somehow you’re still the one I look for in a room.”

You shrugged, pretending your chest hadn’t tightened. “Guess that’s what lifelong friends do.”

“Yeah,” Hal murmured softly. “Friends.”

Silence settled in, heavier than usual. Hal sat up, suddenly restless, rubbing the back of his neck. The confidence he wore like armor cracked just enough for you to notice.

“There’s something I—” He stopped, exhaled a sharp laugh. “This is stupid.”

“Hal,” you smiled, turning fully toward him. “When have you ever stopped because something was stupid?”

That earned a crooked grin. He met your eyes, really met them, and for a moment the Watchtower might as well have vanished. He leaned in—slow, hesitant, like he was testing gravity itself.

You felt it then. The almost. The impossible awareness of how close he was, how familiar and unfamiliar all at once.

Hal froze inches from you, breath warm against your cheek. His eyes flicked to your mouth, then back up, panic and something unspoken colliding. “I— I shouldn’t,” he whispered. “We’re… you’re my—”

“I know,” you whispered back, voice just as unsteady.

He pulled back like he’d touched fire, standing too fast. “Sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

You watched him, heart pounding, the space between you suddenly vast. “Yeah,” you cleared your throat quietly. “Me neither.”

Hal managed a shaky smile. “Guess I’ll… go do patrol.”

“Yeah,” you echoed.

As his ring flared and he vanished off to a Zeta Tube, you stayed by the viewport, staring at Earth—and wondering when friendship had started to feel like something else, and how long both of you had been pretending not to notice.