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Hal Jordan fucks the DC Universe

Chapter Text

The first thing that Clark had done when he had dragged Hal into his bedroom was tie his arms to the bed and pulled off his ring. Hal had already been hard under his costume, which Clark was surprised by how unsurprised he was by that. He’d sunken down on him immediately, taking him into his mouth, and the wails had started immediately.

Clark tried not to imagine Bruce on the other side of the wall faced with the sudden knowledge that Hal Jordan was a screamer or the lecture that he was going to give Clark about this tomorrow.

It was fifteen minutes later, filled with Clark stopping every time Hal started getting really into the blowjob and starting again when he seemed to have calmed down, that Hal finally spoke up.

“Clark…” It came as a ragged moan and Clark finally pulled his mouth from the head of Hal’s cock and glanced up at his co-worker’s face. Tears clung to Hal’s eyelashes. “Please.”

Clark immediately pulled back his hand, which had been jerking the red and leaking cock, almost as if he had been milking Hal into his mouth, and moved up Hal’s body, so that he could kiss him softly on the lips, which soon turned into full-on making out.

“Please let me come,” Hal said breathlessly as soon as he pulled back, Hal was trying to find some way to grind up against him, which was bad. Hal was always going against orders.

“You are being punished,” Clark replied softly, dragging one finger slowly up that cock, it really was leaking impressively. He was keeping watch of Hal’s facial expressions, and when he spoke again it was lightly, the kind of voice that made it clear that he was done and that he was going to be strict with Hal from then on. “Every time you try puppy dog eyes I add another five minutes to your punishment.”

Hal whined, but he did stop immediately. He could be a good boy, no matter what Bruce and John said. Sometimes he just needed to be taken in hand.

Clark tapped lightly on the head of the cock as he spoke again. One tap for each word.

“Now, how many minutes should we add for what you said to Ultraman?”

It had been completely ridiculous, finding Hal flirting with his evil alternate-universe counterpart, especially since, if he was going to do it, Clark would have thought he’d try for Power Ring. Hal definitely came down on the fucking your clone side of that debate. Bruce had been this close to kicking Hal off the mission right there and then though, and they’d agreed that he needed to be punished.

Everyone knew about Hal’s thing for controlling doms now. Clark just wished that he would go for a better dom.

Hal’s lips were moving, he was trying to sound out words. It was just that after nearly an hour of edging he was finding it hard to form full sentences.

“Look, I just wanted to ask if he would choke me…”

“You aren’t repentant at all then~” it was another cheerful response that hid a threat of extending the punishment further. Clark encircled Hal’s dick in a death grip as he spoke.

Honestly, the biggest reason that Clark had even suggested this was that he was deeply concerned about Hal’s stated preferred dom type. Having your friend, who was well known for scary levels of self-hate, reference a ‘heavy pain kink’ was concerning, to say the least. Clark would rather he did this with someone who would apply the appropriate levels of aftercare, and not just toss him out of bed without another word.

He gripped Hal’s dick hard enough to cause a slight ache, but not tight enough to cause any serious damage, the gasp that Hal made worryingly indicated an interest in cock and ball torture, but Clark wasn’t going to touch that particular kink with a ten-foot pole. He did, however, slide his over hand down over the Lantern’s perineum.

“Do you know what prostate milking is, Hal?” He asked, rubbing his index finger over Hal’s sphincter.

“I’m amazed that you do, Boy Scout,” and okay Hal was surprisingly a brat in bed, although now that he thought about it Clark wasn’t quite sure what else he had expected.

“30 seconds,” Clark stated in a voice that didn’t offer any argument, and he chuckled softly under his breath at the squawking noise Hal made at that, “and you know country boys make do.”

Clark pushed two well-lubed fingers into Hal and they went in surprisingly easily, he raised an eyebrow at Hal. “You prepared yourself before the mission?” There hadn’t been any time that he’d been alone in the time between then and now.

Hal looked confused as to why that was an issue, tinged with what looked like concern that he had done something wrong and more time was going to be added before he was finally allowed to come. “I was flirting with Ultraman, you know, he seems like the type to thrust right in.”

“Good thinking,” Clark managed to say, although internally he was screaming that Hal needed better taste in doms. He hummed as he pressed his fingertips right up against Hal’s prostate and made a small swirling motion. Hal gave a loud yelp at that, from the next room Clark’s super hearing picked up the sound of a slamming door, as well as footsteps retreating down the hall. Clearly, Bruce had given up on there being any chance of peace quiet tonight.

Clark’s fingers rubbed right up against Hal’s prostate, his fingers rubbing, nudging and massaging as Hal squirmed desperately on the bed, his precum leaking all over his own stomach.

As his breath became more and more ragged, coming in desperate gasps for air now, and his dick looked almost painfully red, already starting to twitch, Clark pulled his fingers out of Hal’s ass.

He ignored Hal’s whines as he moved back up to the head of the bed, finally releasing Hal’s cock from his hold.

It was completely covered in precum. Hal had leaked all over it.

Locking his gaze with Hal’s own, Clark brought his come stained hand up to his mouth and licked it, then, as Hal made a pleading noise he wiped a smear over the man’s own lips, watching as his pink tongue immediately darted out to lick it up.

“C-Clark?” Hal finally managed to say as Clark finished lapping up the come on his hand. “Am I allowed to come yet?”

Clark gazed up at the ceiling, putting on a big show of pretending to think about it. “I dunno Hally, you’ve been pretty bad this week. I have you in my schedule for another hour.”

Chapter Text

A large crashing noise came from deeper in the cave and Bruce’s head snapped up instantly. He narrowed his eyes at the Lantern who was presently holding onto the giant penny with a giant green hand construct, as if he thought that if he was quiet Bruce might not notice him, even though he had just made a sound like a large gong when he flew directly into a 30-foot coin.

“Lantern,” he said finally, after watching Hal spend 3 minutes trying to right the thing. “What do you want?

Which had been a mistake, all things considered, as the answer seemed to have fried his brain. Hal was scuffing his shoes on the floor of the cave and it was obvious that Bruce would have to give him an answer before Hal started assuming things and avoiding him. Sending Guy Gardner to track down whatever planet Hal was sulking on with a message about this? Wasn’t going to happen.

“You want me to what?” He said finally, in the hopes that Hal would explain in words that weren’t ‘please choke me, Daddy’ because really, Bruce’s day would have been ten times better if he hadn’t needed to hear those words. He was fairly certain that Hal had mostly used them to annoy him anyway.

Hal took the opportunity to lean on the arm of Bruce’s chair, speaking only a moment later. “Clark thinks it would be a good idea for me to find a good dom… and to stop flirting with Ultraman and Orion.”

“The latter. The latter is the part you should be focusing on.” Bruce said, using his left hand to browse through some files. “Why are you bothering me with this?”

“Clark also thinks that Arthur doesn’t know what aftercare is and that he would just shove me off the bed as soon as we were done,” the ‘not that I would mind’ went unsaid but was still obvious in the petulant tone in Jordan’s voice. Bruce also didn’t really understand why the two options were apparently him and Aquaman but he’d given up on understanding Hal’s logic processes several years before.

“So, I’m the second choice?” Was what he actually said, preparing to kick Hal out of his cave. Which, incidentally, he was not allowed to enter in the first place.

“That’s not it,” Hal said quickly. “Look, I trust you okay? You’re top three in the people I trust list.”

“Who are the two people above me?”

Hal clearly groaned, which was fine, maybe Bruce would get some peace and quiet tonight. “You’d get to spank me…” Hal had completely changed lines of arguments, and damn him that was actually a pretty good argument.

“Spanking?” He asked, “What else?”

Hal grinned, which only grew wider when Bruce shot him a glare. “Deep-throating,” he said, making sure to flick out his tongue to draw Bruce’s attention.

Bruce gave an almost imperceptible nod.

“Shower sex,” Hal tried again, this was clearly a game to make Bruce react.

“Surprisingly tame for you.”

“Degradation.” There it was, right on cue, as expected.

“Be more specific.”

Hal tilted his head, clearly about to try his luck. “Heavy pain?”

“Absolutely not,” Bruce said blandly, which miraculously managed to stop the sharp stab of anger becoming obviously. “It’s obvious that you don’t really have a heavy pain kink, and you’re really trying to find some way to punish yourself. I will not help you hurt yourself, Jordan.”

Hal shifted uncomfortably on the arm of the chair, which was hardly a Jordan-like thing to do. Maybe he actually felt guilty, or maybe the thing about heavy pain had been to test the waters for something else that Bruce might have been against. “Spit it out,” Bruce said with a sigh.

“There was one other thing that I wanted to try,” Hal said, almost as a whisper.

This was going to be a long night if Hal was going to squirm when talking about every kink. Bruce would have told him to go to Arthur, if he didn’t agree with Clark that the man would probably shove Jordan, who seemed to enjoy teasing him, directly out of bed. He tried to ignore the part of his mind that was already imagining dominating Hal in a big way and loving it.

“It’s watersports.”


Bruce dragged Hal through a mansion until they reached a bathroom that was bigger than Hal’s entire apartment, he also noted that the bath was a big as a swimming pool.

“Huh, thought that you might have a ‘play room’,” he joked, already pulling off his flight jacket and folding it neatly to put it on the towel shelf. Bruce was watching him carefully, with a dangerous glint in his eye. “I am not getting piss on my Dad’s jacket.”

“Just wondering when I gave you permission to strip,” Bruce growled, but he was already tugging off Hal’s shirt, which meant he was being pretty hypocritical here. “Also, after what you suggested? I don’t want to ruin the carpet.”

Hal’s eyes widened, it didn’t take much to confuse him and he was probably trying to figure out if Bruce was joking. He did helpfully step out of his pants when they were opened though, so Bruce hadn’t broken his mind. “Are you freaking kidding me?”

Bruce allowed a small sardonic smile. “Kneel on the ground, Jordan.”

Amazingly Hal acquiesced without much fuss and Bruce strapped a small vibrator to his already half hard dick. He wanted to talk to Hal about not going commando in the field, but that could wait for the pillow talk portion of the night.

“Where the hell did you get that from?” Hal was asking, but Bruce ignored him.

“I-” Bruce said, hand already on the doorknob, “am going to head down to the kitchen to get some water. You… are going to stay here. If you leave this room I will spank you 30 times, if you remove the vibrator I will spank you thirty times, and if you come…”

“You’ll smack me 30 times?” Hal guessed.

The billionaire actually smirked at him after that. The dick.


Bruce had honestly been intending to return to Hal fairly quickly, but he had ended up being waylaid by Alfred before he had managed to escape from the kitchen. Alfred had wanted his help with something, and he couldn’t exactly refuse.

In fact, he had been going to let Hal off, all discussions of spankings forgotten, as there was no way he would have expected him to keep the vibrator on without orgasming for the period which Bruce had been downstairs. Or at least he had been planning to let him off until he saw how wrecked the Lantern looked, cum painted all over his abs. He knew they both needed this, Hal needed some kind of punishment to be able to continue tonight, while Bruce needed to paint his ass red with his own hands.

“You’re supposed to have more willpower than this,” Bruce said, helping Hal settle over his lap. “Count them.” He ordered as he flattened his palm and brought it down against Jordan’s round ass for the first time.

To his credit Hal actually managed to count out all of the strikes with minimal yelping. Bruce made a note to order food for Hal before he went home, was that a normal part of aftercare? Or was it leaning dangerously close to sugar daddy territory.

Hal was already hard and leaking again before the last smack had even landed.

“Lie up against the bath,” Bruce ordered, pulling his pants down far enough to reveal his thick cock. Hal was watching it hungrily, clearly expecting deep throating to be the request that Bruce would meet tonight. It wasn’t.

A stream of yellow liquid shot out, beginning to soak Hal’s light brown pecs and his delicious abs. A shiver ran over Lantern’s entire body as he reached out to take his own cock in hand, jerking it slowly.

Bruce’s bladder was still mostly full though and he aimed lower, coating both Hal’s hand and his cock with warm piss. The noises that Hal was making were filthy, both the sloppy wet sounds of the jerking and the moans that escaped his lips. Then an idea struck Bruce.

“Hal?” He asked, at first only being answered with a groan “Hal? Are you okay with it going in your mouth?”

The sharp nod was almost a surprise, but Bruce edged closer, the stream moving across Hal’s body, soaking his hair and face with piss on the way. Finally, Bruce pressed the still gushing head against Hal’s lips.

Hal opened his lips up easily, suckling at the mushroom shaped head of Bruce’s cock as the stream of piss disappeared down his throat. He was guzzling as if he had been trapped, wandering the desert for weeks.

Finally, Bruce’s bladder seemed to run dry and he pulled back from Hal’s lips, beginning to survey his hard work. Hal’s eyes were half-lidded, and he was still jerking weakly at his cock, under Bruce’s gaze, he spread his legs further, the invitation clear.

“Come on,” Bruce said, reaching his hand out to help Hal up. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Hal accepted the offered hand with surprising ease. “Hey, how about that shower sex.”

“You are completely insatiable, aren’t you?”


Chapter Text

He looked completely ridiculous.

Really, someone should have talked Hal Jordan out of wearing his flight jacket over a dress suit and bow tie. They were just all too used to him, that was the problem. Even Bruce had looked a little fond at his latest stupidity.

That was why Diana had had her eyes on him all night, standing out in a crowd of well-pressed Italian suit jackets, or at least until he had run off to talk to Mister Terrific, who had decided that wearing a jacket bedazzled with the words ‘Fair Play’ was appropriate attire for a ‘the universe didn’t get destroyed’ party. Possibly fashion disasters ran in packs.

It was because she had her eyes on him all night, and admittedly because Arthur looked about ready to try something with the League’s resident bicycle (Bruce thought they didn’t know, but more than enough people had caught him pinning the Lantern to walls in the watchtower. Clark just couldn’t keep secrets), that Hal had been the one she had pulled out of the room when she started to feel certain… urged.

Hal had agreed to lie down on the couch in one of the other rooms in Bruce’s mansion relatively easily, the only concern that he voiced being: “What if they miss us, Princess?”

He shut up relatively quickly though, after Diana had hiked up the skirt of her dress, and it became obvious that she had come to this celebration without putting on any panties.

It was self-evident what was wanted when a woman put her legs on either side of your face, frankly, and Hal was definitely going to respond with a joke, she could tell. That joke was going to completely ruin the mood. She spoke before he could even open his mouth. “Be a good boy, Hal.”

Hal practically dove into her pussy, his nose bumping up against her clit as he started lapping at the juices that were already leaking from her folds.

“Hal,” she warned, and he made a small needy noise at the commanding sound of her voice. He knew this. They had known each other for a long time, Hal had been at the ripe old age of twenty three when the League had been formed about a decade and a half ago, and had been about that age when he had asked her for advice about pleasing Carol, ostensibly because she ‘was the one who he thought most likely to have made a woman come by going down on her’.

Hal furrowed his brows slightly in confusion before the answer dawned on him and he shifted his face upwards slightly and, once there, encircled his lips around her engorged clit. He started sucking it as if his life depended on it and Diana, conscious of how any noise that she made could leak into the other room and make the rest of the League aware of what they were up to, resolved to make as little noise as possible.

But as she looked down into Hal’s eyes she felt that he looked slightly too proud of himself, so, in an effort to take him down a few pegs, she ground down on his face, tickling his nose with her course black curls an absolutely soaking his chin with her juices.

He alternated between licking and sucking, probably deciding that it would go better for him if he worked to get her off, and soon her thighs were clamped tight around his ears as she bucked desperately against his face.

Hal should definitely have brought his ring for this though, he thought as the pressure built up between her thighs. His vision was beginning to swim, and he was finding it more and more difficult to breathe. At this point, Diana was pretty much using his mouth to get herself off, but he found that he didn’t actually care about that all that much.

It was pretty hot actually.

There were five short sharp thrusts before an extra burst of liquid landed on his lips. Did she just squirt on his face? Jesus. He lapped at the juices more, trying to taste more of her as she rode out the rest of her orgasm.

Eventually, though, Diana lifted herself off of his face, and Hal just lay there for a few moments, trying to get his breath back. He could already tell that he was going to need to clean his face off before heading back. It was completely soaked with natural lubricant.

Diana pulled her skirt all the way back down before combing his hair back into a semi-respectable condition. Then she was gone, she’d pretty much left him to deal with himself, but people would probably realize that they were gone soon. He stared at the door of the room somewhat sadly.

Now he just had to deal with his own painful erection.

Chapter Text

“Arthur…” It came as more of a desperate sob than anything else, Hal was almost upset that he could make a noise like that. Both of them had been assigned to Monitor Duty this morning, and it was pretty damn lucky that no villain had made a move in the last three hours. Hal wasn’t quite sure how it had happened, but he had ended up with his legs up in the air, being held aloft with a firm grip, while the king of Atlantis pounded away at his ass.

Arthur moved one hand away from his thigh, however, so that he could clamp it over his mouth. He was obviously trying to keep any more sounds from escaping. Hal wasn’t sure if he wanted him to be quiet because there were others in the watchtower who would hear them and would come in if they heard him cry out (probably concerned that Arthur had gotten fed up and stabbed him), or if he genuinely didn’t want to hear Hal’s voice. Arthur didn’t tend to talk about his motivations.

If it was the former, Hal didn’t really think it was a good idea for Arthur to be fucking him directly on the emergency button. One wrong move and the entire League would be sent out to deal with a non-existent threat.

Arthur didn’t seem to care about that at all though, as he slammed right back into Hal’s hole. Jesus, Hal had sex fairly regularly, and he thought of himself as fairly experienced, but this stretch took some getting used to, the feeling still hadn’t gone away. The Lantern was probably going to be wrecked and gaping afterward. Hal might have asked a lot of stupid questions about whether or not Atlanteans had double dicks in the past, but he hadn’t been wrong, Arthur had to be at least twice as thick as the average man. At least. Maybe more.

As Arthur rammed into his prostate, stars swam over Hal’s vision. Arthur was hitting it every time he thrust now, and Hal cried out again, only to be muffled by the hand currently clamped over his mouth.

“Quiet,” Arthur hissed, only removing his hand from Hal’s mouth when he indicated that he wanted to talk. Arthur slowed down fully, not moving at all, and Hal had to stop himself enjoying the feeling of fullness. “What is it?” Aquaman sounded annoyed.

“Change of shift is in ten minutes,” Hal breathed, he didn’t think that either of them wanted Atom and Hawkman to walk in on them still fucking.

Arthur sighed as he put his hand right back over Hal’s mouth. He apparently didn’t trust Hal to be quiet, which made sense because Hal was, y’know, never silent. Did that sigh mean he had been planning on dragging this out even longer, though? With that kind of stamina, Hal might just take a trip over to Amnesty Bay that evening.

“Touch yourself.” Was what Arthur finally ordered. Okay, so at least he was being listened to, that was a relief, he had almost thought Artie was actually planning to keep fucking him until the others arrived.

Hal took his own, unfairly smaller (he would never have thought of himself as small before he regularly started sleeping with aliens and metahumans), cock in hand, tugging it in time with the thrusts.

One particularly hard thrust against his prostate had Hal coming all over his own hand within moments, and he felt a splash of something hot inside him a moment later. Of course, Arthur would come inside.

Once that huge cock had been pulled out of him entirely, Hal couldn’t help himself, he pressed his fingers into his own hole, feeling how much it was gaping. You could probably fit an entire fist in there comfortably. Holy shit.

Arthur was smirking as he helped him up. “Feel empty already?” Which hadn’t been why he had fingered himself but was unfortunately correct. Hal was definitely heading right over to Amnesty Bay as soon as he was off work.

It was by some miracle that Hal had been able to get his uniform back on before the others arrived to take over their shift. Arthur managed to escape immediately, but Hal had gotten caught.

Trust Ray Palmer to want to talk while his ass was leaking cum.

Chapter Text

“Barry, you need to slow down a little,” Hal was saying, he was such a dick. “I know you’re the fastest man alive…”

Barry shot him a glare. “Shut up Hal, Christ. Please, just stroke me.”

The idea that Hal had been trying for when he suggested in the middle of movie night that he and Barry should have sex, was the standard thought of a dick vibrating against his prostate, but when he had tried to give Barry a blowjob, the speedster had come in his mouth in less than a minute.

20 minutes and some kink negotiating later saw Barry tied to the bed with some green rope constructs.

“Hal,” Barry squirmed as Hal pumped his dick, which was currently decorated beautifully with a glowing green cock ring, in his hand. “Please, it’s been twenty minutes already, please just let me come.”

Hal tilted his head, looking like he was deep in thought. “Hm, when I tried this with Clark, he made me wait at least an hour.”

“Because you have the most willpower in the sector!” Barry cried. “An hour? Hal, please, I can’t…”

Hal looked like he was making some quick calculations. “Ten more minutes, Barry, can you do that?”

Barry took in a sharp breath before he finally managed a nod. With a smile Hal started rubbing Barry again, watching as Barry made breathy little moans.

Hal was stroking him hard and fast, the precum leaking from Barry’s cock lubricating his way. Barry canted his hips lightly, he could feel his orgasm building and building.


Yes. Barry needed this. He just needed to come.

Hal pulled his hand off of Barry’s cock again without a word of warning.

“Hal!” Barry snapped, he could just vibrate his way out of these restraints if he wanted to.

“It’s okay, Bar,” Hal was grinning, and damn him, how dare he enjoy this.

Hal took him back in hand, letting the construct restraints fade out of existence so that Barry could finally, finally, buck up into Hal’s hand. His back was arching. He was practically wailing.

Hal pulled his hand off again, but it was too late, Barry’s cock was already twitching, releasing six different bursts of come that shot directly upwards.

Barry collapsed down onto the bed, unable to summon the energy to do anything else just yet.

Hal was running his finger through the mess that now coated Barry’s stomach, sucking it into his mouth before he moved to throw himself on top of Barry, wrapping his arms around Barry’s neck.

Barry cuddled him back, he was already suspicious that Hal might have been a little affection deprived.

Barry had learned to expect it (although it may have been a surprise to Hal) when his body started to have a reaction to the warm and hard body that was pressed right up against him. His hard cock was soon rubbing up against the inside of Hal’s thigh.

Hal pulled back when he felt it. “Barry?” He asked softly. “Are you hard again already?”

Barry’s cheeks warmed up slightly. “I have a shortened refractory period,” he tried to explain, but Hal was already pulling back.

His eyes were wide, pupils already dilated as he stared into Barry’s face. “Can I-?” He started. “Am I allowed to ride you?”

Barry gave a short, sharp nod, and soon the head of his cock was pressed up against the rim of Hal’s hole.

Hal sunk down on it, lips parted as he let out a quiet groan. Barry let him get himself settled on his cock, worried that him thrusting up into him would end up hurting Hal.

He needn’t have worried. Hal loved it when people were rough with him, and the pace he set as he rode Barry was a hard and fast one.

Barry’s grunts began to fill the room, getting more and more ragged every time Hal descended on his cock. The tight channel clenching around him, combined with the fast pace that Hal was setting meant that Barry was coming in Hal’s ass within three minutes of the first rush.

Hal pressed down in a desperate attempt to keep all of Barry’s dick inside him. “I got an idea Bar,” he said, and Barry instantly understood what he meant as Hal began rocking against him, urging Barry back into hardness, still encased inside Hal’s hole.

The second time around was much sloppier, the cum that was already in Hal’s ass was making filthy noises every time he moved on Barry’s dick. Once, when Hal had sunken down on him entirely, Barry started vibrating his dick. The head of his cock was rammed against Hal’s prostate, forcing the vibrations into it.

The noise that Hal made in response to that barely sounded human, a scream that suddenly broke off. It was loud enough that Barry was worried that someone would call the police on the assumption that someone was being murdered.

Barry grabbed Hal’s hips, keeping him in place so that the vibrations would keep attacking his prostate. Hal thrashed, coming all over Barry’s chest within moments.

Even as he was collapsing onto the Speedster, Barry was still thrusting into Hal’s oversensitive hole, chasing his third orgasm of the night. Hal’s hole was squeezing him as he spilled up into again, but by that time Hal’s face had pressed into Barry’s neck. Barry strongly suspected that Hal was about to fall asleep, still on top of him. The only indication that he was still awake had been the groans with every thrust.

Barry tried to pull out of Hal carefully, but the Lantern whined and gripped at his cock with his ass, trying desperately to keep it inside. The indulgent part of Barry was about willing to fall asleep still inside him, but every other part of him was telling him it was a bad idea.

“Hal,” Barry chastised, “I need to clean us both up, you don’t want to be all crusty and stuck together tomorrow.”

The grumble he got in return sounded vaguely like: “Maybe I do.”

Was Hal Jordan a Brat in bed? How was Barry supposed to deal with that?

Chapter Text

This winter in Detroit was particularly harsh, snow was covering the ground, John was fairly sure they were going to end up stuck inside his house in the morning. John was meeting with his brother for the first time in years. Damon had been pleased to see him, they had hugged, and his baby brother had agreed to spend the night at John’s place. He’d called his husband to tell him just a few minutes before.

It had been a good day. John was humming when he took the trash out.

“You seem happy,” a familiar voice came from John’s left, had he been waiting in the shadows? John didn’t know what Hal was doing here, but he swore to himself that he wasn’t going to get involved in anything stupid.

“Thought that you didn’t leave California during this time of year,” John was so serious most of the time that people assumed he wouldn’t be capable of teasing anyone but tease he did. Despite regularly working in deep space Hal wasn’t really the best in freezing temperatures.

“Speaking of, I’m cold, John.” Okay, Hal was pressing up against him, apparently trying to steal some of his body heat. If John weren’t so used to it, he would have pushed Hal away. Hal was ice cold too, what had he been doing?

“Get inside, idiot,” he said, ushering Hal towards the door, “why did you come here in a bomber jacket, the wind goes right through.” Damon was already standing there.

“Who’s this?” Damon asked, and John prayed to any god that might have been listening that Hal would not try to flirt with his baby brother. He tried mouthing the words ‘do not flirt’ at Hal, but Hal just looked at him, confused (not flirting apparently being a foreign concept to him).

“I’m his partner!” Hal wrapped an arm around John’s waist, and John had to pinch his nose, he’d told the League that he wouldn’t be available tonight due to personal issues. Hal had apparently decided that meant that his role here was to cause as many misunderstandings as possible.

John remembered one evening in particular where Hal had invited him to dinner with the other founding members of the League, this had apparently been because they were partners. It turned out when they arrived that the other members had brought their wives and girlfriends (and Steve Trevor) along with them. Sometimes it seemed like Hal was unaware of the double meaning of the word partner. Either that or he was messing with John.

Of course, the first thing Hal did when he got into the house was getting entirely too friendly with Damon.

John ended up cornering Hal in the kitchen as soon as his brother went to bed. “What the fuck was that?” He hissed, resting his hands on either side of Hal, pinning him between himself and the counter.

Hal, annoyingly, ignored him so that he could steal John’s orange juice right in front of him. He drank it directly from the carton.

“You. Flirting.”

If Hal could stop looking so confused, that would be great. “But I always flirt,” he was saying.

“Not with my brother!” John cried, although he wasn’t quite sure why he had such an issue in this situation, it would be fine by him if Hal stopped flirting with people during diplomatic meetings too. “Not in front of me.”

To his complete surprise, Hal immediately grabbed both sides of his face and leaped forward to plant one on his lips. The silence that followed stretched out between them until John finally returned the kiss with a messy one of his own.

John began to undo his pants, which was when he noticed Hal opening his mouth. “You shut up.” He said immediately.

“I was just going to ask… were you jealous~?”

Already he was regretting this. “Absolutely, and, if you mock me, I will leave you here.”

Hal actually pouted at him, and John was falling for it, he’d learned nothing in the ten years they’d known each other. “Not fair. Especially considering that I was going to offer to suck you off.” He was waggling his eyebrow, he had to ruin everything.

John choked out an affirmative though, and Hal immediately sank to his knees, pulling John’s cock out of his slacks. Instead of directly using his mouth though, he pressed his face up against his partner’s crotch and took in a deep breath.

“What is it?” John’s immediate response was one of concern, a concern that Hal didn’t really want to do this and he was fully willing to bring Hal back up right away.

“Sorry, it’s just the smell.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “You like the smell?”

“Like the taste too. Look, you have permission to just… fuck my throat, okay?”

Hal placed a soft kiss on the end of John’s cock, which mostly just caused John to roll his eyes before he sucked the head of the dick into his mouth. The way he suckled at first felt like he was milking John, but then he opened up his jaw fully.

John moved slowly, he wasn’t sure how often Hal did this (although a small, suspicious part of him was leaning towards ‘a lot’) and didn’t want to make him choke accidentally.

Eventually, he had pushed in fully, the head of his cock right up against Hal’s throat. “You’re doing good,” he breathed, “you’re doing great, Hally.”

He pulled out again, and soon, spurred on by the groaning noises that were escaping from Hal’s throat, he was setting a harsh and punishing rhythm. Hal, to his credit, was taking it well, not choking at all. John’s balls were smacking against his face so hard that he was worried that they would leave bruises.

Eventually, he slowed down completely, dumping his load into Hal’s mouth. Hal swallowed it immediately, even though he’d taken care to allow him the option of spitting it out.

“Jesus,” John breathed. “You really are kinda kinky.” He was already lifting Hal back up, settling him on the kitchen counter.

Within moments he had Hal’s pants down his ankles and his cock in his mouth.

Chapter Text

It had been so easy for Oliver to pin him.

Hal was a skilled fighter and had enough experience with getting into brawls with Oliver that he could have actually stood a chance of winning, or at least of gaining the upper hand for a while. Him taking off his ring, though, had been stupid and arrogant and had instantly made Oliver see red.

Hal landed on his back with an eye that would be swollen by the next day and two hands wrapped around his throat.

Hal was making a choking noise, although it wasn’t entirely clear if he was trying to speak or trying to take a breath, Ollie kept his hands in place anyway, ignoring the movements of the body that was struggling beneath him. He was pissed, and Hal was just making it worse.

Suddenly, Oliver pulled back as if he had been burned, he scuttled back, only stopping when his back hit a tree behind him.

Hal, sat up, suddenly coughing, his eyes were too warm when they landed on Ollie. “Feel better, bro?” He asked.

Hal was always way too understanding of Ollie’s intermittent rages when they had traveled across America together, Green Arrow was forever starting fights with him when he was worried about Dinah or upset about the latest hideous moral cancer that was rotting their very souls. Maybe that was why Ollie had always been jealous of Barry, he had the feeling that perhaps the Speedster, who despite his political beliefs was understanding and rarely, if ever, got angry at Hal… it was easy to think that he might have deserved the title of Hal's best friend more.

Instead of voicing any of his hidden soft feelings though, what came out of Oliver’s mouth was: “Why did you get hard when I choked you?”

Hal shrugged. “It just happens, okay, I don’t know why.”

Oliver was staring at his hands as if they contained all of the secrets of the universe. “Do you like being choked?”

“Well,” Hal sounded embarrassed as he stood up, which was weird, Ollie didn’t think he was capable of feeling shame. “I’m going to get the sleeping gear out of the truck,” he was saying, “we should probably get an early night.”

Arrow couldn’t let him go like that, sounding ashamed of himself. He followed immediately afterward. Hal stiffened, sensing him coming from behind. “I could choke you. If you’d like.”

Hal threw a sleeping bag over his shoulder, chucking it directly at Ollie. It bounced off his chest. “You don’t have to do that much to make for the fight.”

“That’s not why I’m offering!” He snapped. “Look, do you have anyone else who would do this with you?”

“Bruce, Arthur, John (although I think spanking is more his thing),” Hal paused, “Hawkman would probably be down.”

Arrow spluttered, immeasurably offended by that last one. “Hal, please. Never have sex with that fascist.”

“Ollie, I was just messing with you,” Hal was actually laughing at him, how dare he? “Just let me tap out at any point, I don’t want you accidentally killing me.”

“It wouldn’t be an accident.”

Soon, Ollie had Hal straddled over one of his thighs. Both of his hands were wrapped around Hal’s neck. The choking noises that his best friend was making were turning him on more than they should be, combining with the wet slide of Hal’s bare cock against his jeans to make Ollie slowly become hard himself.

Oliver breathed low, trying to calm himself, focusing on his own desire to get off would take his attention off of Hal, it wasn’t a good idea for him to get overexcited here, he needed to recognize when to stop choking.

Eventually, Hal stopped moving, his eyes wide. Oliver relaxed his grip immediately.

Hal took several desperate gasps of air, and when he slowed Oliver moved to put his hands right back around Hal’s throat. The Lantern shoved his hand away; instead, he reached inside Ollie’s pants to pull out his cock. He began rubbing them together.

A heady, musky scent began to spread around them, and as Ollie breathed it in, he found himself leaking more and more precum. The friction of their two cocks rubbing together had him bucking up into Hal’s hand.

“You know, the feeling of the foreskin-”

“Oliver, please! Not now! I’m trying to come!”

Ollie reached out to wrap his fingers around Hal’s throat again. After that Hal was coming within seconds. He jerked them both through every wave of his orgasm. As soon as Oliver’s balls tightened, Hal darted down so that he could catch Ollie’s come in his mouth.

He was gone so suddenly, leaving Ollie in a daze, all he knew was that he had heard a swallow.

When he looked up again, Hal was already wrapped up in his sleeping bag, and Ollie’s fly was still open to the breeze. It was while tucking himself in that he noticed something.

The can of beer he threw at Hal bounced off his head.

“Hey, asshole, how am I supposed to go into town tomorrow with your cum on my pants?!”

Chapter Text

If you put a puzzle in front of Ray Palmer he would work obsessively on it for hours, it had been the primary cause of many of his failed relationships, he would get too engaged in something and start to ignore his partner, entirely by accident.

Interestingly, though, if you managed to catch his attention when he wasn’t working on something, he could be just as attentive towards people.

Take now for instance.

He’d had Hal lying on his back for a good ten minutes as he slowly rolled his balls in between his fingertips, the scientist seemed engrossed in his actions, Hal couldn’t bring himself to ask why he was doing this.

Ray looked up suddenly and gave him a warm smile. “I didn’t expect you to be so well behaved,” he said, and Hal started to protest, why did everyone think he was a brat in bed? Ray cut him off by giving his scrotum a hard squeeze, pulling it down.

Unfortunately, he hadn’t given any real explanation yet, sure it felt good, but Hal was hard, and nobody was touching his cock, and his one attempt to rub his own cock had earned him such a long-suffering sigh that he had immediately started feeling guilty.

He squirmed as Ray squeezed and pulled, again and again, it was with a light touch as if the other man really didn’t want to cause him any pain. Honestly, the action reminded Hal of something though, and he opened his mouth to ask.

“Ray?” Atom blinked up at him, and it became so obvious that he’d been distracted by what he was doing, maybe enough to forget that Hal was even here. Hal just wanted to remind him that there was a goal here. “What are you doing?”

Atom looked confused like he was sure that he had explained this but couldn’t remember when. “I was…” he started but paused as if he had just realized that what he was about to say would sound strange to anyone who existed outside of his own brain. “I was milking you?”

Jesus. Hal swallowed. “The milk isn’t going to come out if you just play with my balls is the thing.” That line was terrible, Hal already felt like he should never speak again.

Ray, for some reason, actually seemed to be mulling that statement over. “Get on your stomach, please, Hal and spread your legs for me.” He paused. “But you’re not allowed to rub your dick. I want to be the one to make you come.”

When Hal did what he was told a pair of hands gripped his buttocks and spread them further, fully revealing his hole to his current partner. He could practically feel Ray’s gaze travel over his anus. The sound of a lid being opened came from somewhere behind him, and moments later a freezing cold finger was rubbing over his sphincter. Hal couldn’t hold back a yelp.

Oh, right, Ray had forgotten to warm up the lube first. He pushed in slowly, carefully. He hadn’t necessarily needed to have done that though, the finger would have slipped in easily.

Two fingers now slid over Hal’s insides, searching for his prostate. By the time the pads of the fingers brushed over the sensitive nerves, Hal was so desperate that he couldn’t keep himself from shoving his ass back, swallowing Ray’s digits down to the knuckles.

“And suddenly the greedy brat reputation is starting to make sense,” it sounded like Ray was teasing him, not as if he was actually mad. He simply re-adjusted his fingers so that he could go right back to massaging Hal’s prostate. “Please try to keep still.”

As soon as they were back in position the fingers of the hand currently occupied in his hole began to rotate, rubbing up against his prostate, the sharp jolts of pleasure were already making Hal curl his toes and grip the sheets hard with his fingers.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he became aware of a second hand grasping his balls again, playing with them like a bag of dice.

Atom kept rubbing at his prostate in a way that had Hal rutting his cock into the folds of the sheet beneath him, he was so desperate for some kind of friction on his cock, for something to fuck, that he was willing to take any punishment from the man behind him.

“Jesus,” Ray hissed, he’d noticed, and he was going to punish him, he pressed his fingers into Hal’s prostate, hard.

Hal’s vision went white, and he was vaguely aware of the feeling of his balls drawing up, ready to come. Ray could definitely feel it too with how tightly he was grasping Hal’s balls. Instantly the milking motion restarted, Atom was pulling on his testicles like they were a damn udder. Moments later cum was spreading over the bed sheets, completely ruining them.

When Hal finally regained his senses, he was on his back, Ray’s fingers still inside his ass.

“I said you weren’t allowed to come from touching your dick, now we have to start all over again.”

Damned perfectionist.

Chapter Text

Hal hadn’t been expecting visitors that night, John had forced him into taking shore leave that day, had said that he had been keeping himself too busy, that he had been overworking himself. John was a hypocrite though, Hal was sure he worked five more hours out of any given day than he did. Every day of the week too.

In fact, given how close this was to the day of diplomatic talks with the red lanterns, Hal was beginning to suspect it had been because John didn’t want him flirting with someone whose bodily fluids were now plasma. Making “but what a way to go” jokes had not helped.

He got home at about nine at night, he should probably have checked in with the League on the way, but it had already gotten dark. Telling himself that it was okay to wait until the morning because he was tired, he flopped down on the couch, turning the TV on for the first time in months. The only thing on was an awful horror movie, horror movies were pretty boring when you didn’t get scared, but he was too tired to bother getting up.

Five minutes into the movie there was a knock at his door. Hal forced himself up with a groan.

“Dinah,” he asked after he swung it all the way open, she looked like she was going to give him a lecture about that. Hal peered around her, looking for Ollie. He wasn’t there. Which, frankly, could only be a good thing. He wasn’t ready to hear a rant about current Earth politics when he hadn’t been near Earth for six weeks.

“Hal,” she chastised. “You’re supposed to check in with the Watchtower when you get back to Earth, even if you’re tired, Bruce…”

She said it too late, and he was already dragging her into a hug. Her lips quirked up into a smile involuntarily. “Made you laugh.” He said.

Dinah did break out into laughter at that. “I missed you,” she replied, finally hugging back.

They ended up on the couch, just talking. Hal refused to turn off the TV so every few minutes the sounds of screams and splatters of gore floated over. Dinah was reasonably sure that was only to see how annoyed she would be though, so she let it go.

“Oh Jesus,” Hal was saying. “John’s been adamant. If I have any more sex with alien kings, I’m on desk duty for a week.”

Dinah shook her head. “Must have been the longest you’ve been without sex. I heard that-”

“You heard what?” He asked with raised eyebrows. Had he really not heard any of the locker room talk? It seemed like the kind of attention he’d bask in usually.

“Have you slept with the entire Trinity?”

Hal snorted. “And Aquaman, and Barry, and…” he trailed off, he’d slept with Ollie when he was broken up with Dinah, but by her face, she already knew. Hell, Ollie had probably told her, he’d made enough threesome jokes in the past. “I think most nights I was with someone.”

“Must have been an awful dry spell,” She was looking at her hands and decided that one of her nails looked a bit jagged. “Hal? Can you get me my purse?”

He took a little too long getting it, which when she turned around turned out to have been because he had grabbed the bag by the wrong end and everything had come tumbling out.

“Dinah?” He asked. “Why do you carry a strap-on in your purse? Do you always carry a strap-on in your purse? Is Ollie that much of a pillow princess?”

“Like you can talk.” She snorted. She didn't mind it herself if he decided to tease Ollie, but if he was going to be a hypocrite… “Wanna try it out?”

Hal was quiet for a few moments before nodding.


She watched as Hal fingered himself with deft fingers, he didn’t seem to be having too much trouble, he looked like he did it a lot. Dinah got a sudden image of Hal, alone on his quarters on Oa, head thrown back with three fingers in his ass, begging for someone, anyone, to stick a cock in him.

She wondered if John ever did if Guy ever did, but it seemed unlikely for either of them. John seemed entirely straight, and even though she loved Hal, she wouldn’t understand why someone like John would ever be interested in him. Guy was a more likely option. However, it would have been hate sex, and Dinah had enough enmity for him to decide off hand that Guy must be extraordinarily bad at sex and that Hal would never go for a second round.

“Hal,” She said, when he seemed to have gotten a little too into it (which admittedly he wouldn’t have done if she hadn’t gotten distracted with wondering about inter-corps relationships), he had four fingers in his ass already and was practically riding them. “Hal, Honey, let me see your hole.”

The skin on the inside clung to his fingers as he removed them, almost as if he was just desperate to keep them inside him right then. As he leaned forward, resting on his elbows and practically presenting himself, Dinah ran a finger over his hole, at least he had managed to get himself adequately lubed up.

She pressed the head of an ivory white dildo up against his hole, it was six inches in length and relatively thick for its length, although right then she thought that Hal could probably take one that was much, much, more substantial. It slid inside with a pop.

With the soft gasps he was making as it started moving further inside, one thing was clear, this man was a bottom if she’d ever seen one.

His legs slid even further apart, allowing her easier access as she thrust into him. The rumors (that Oliver had heard in the men’s locker room and had insisted on telling her every detail of) had said that he would come without being touched if you hammered into him just right, shifting so that the head of the dildo would brush against his prostate she began thrusting in earnest.

Hal’s legs began to give out after a certain number of thrusts; he was essentially keeping his ass in the air, ready and willing to be railed, and rail him she did, thrusting up against his prostate hard enough for him to cry out.

With every thrust she landed a palm strike against his ass, leaving it entirely red, marking him. It didn’t escape her notice that the moment she started spanking him was the moment he began to leak cum profusely. Someone had a pain kink.

Eventually, when he hadn’t quite reached the point of coming untouched even though she was beginning to run out of energy herself, in both her hips and in her hand, she took pity on him, reaching around to clasp his dick in her free hand.

She set just as punishing a pace with her jerks as she had with her thrusts, using his own precum as a form of lube, and soon he was coming all over her hand.

“Di,” he hissed, after a few minutes of rest, with him lying face down in the pillow without moving. “Can I eat you out?”

Chapter Text

Hal would admit, loudly with increasing regularity whenever he was around Oliver Queen, that he actually found Hawkman to be very attractive. Oliver would, without fail, proceed to insult Hal’s taste and shuffle off, loudly grumbling.

He wasn’t even lying, just mentioning it constantly because annoying his best friend was one of his favorite pastimes. It was probably something to do with the man always walking around shirtless that brought out Hal’s thirst. The view wasn’t one that ever got old.

He figured what had happened this time was that he got caught looking. It was the back muscles. They were his weakness. Not that he wasn’t also a pec man. But Carter had turned towards him in the locker room and given him a frankly dangerous grin. Hal had immediately offered the man a place in his bed.

Anyone would have done the same.

Except for the probable exception of Oliver.

Hal was just contemplating whether or not it would be weird to tell someone that you were thinking about licking them everywhere when Carter spoke.

His fingers had already strayed to Hal’s hole, he was exploring his body like it was an undiscovered territory. “Have you ever engaged in rimming before?”

Hal gave Hall’s cock a forlorn look. Carter was just as large and thick as Arthur was, which, since the sea king was currently indisposed with politics and had been for several weeks, meant that Hal was practically gagging to have it inside him. It really was beautiful, veiny, uncut, and absolutely dwarfed Hal’s own dick.

“Later,” Hawkman said shortly. “I will prepare you.” It sounded like a challenge, which meant Hal had to hold himself back from accepting it physically. He was very stubborn.

Instead, he just sighed, putting his forehead right up against the mattress in what seemed to amount to a show of submission.

Moments later he felt Hawkman spreading his cheeks to show off his hole. The long, drawn-out silence made him suspect that he was about to get a comment about Carter wanting virgin tightness, Hal’s hackles began to rise.

The flick of a tongue against his hole was sudden, a flash of wet warmth that made him moan.

“Disappointing,” Carter commented, and Hal swore that he was going to start a fight right here in his quarters. He was going to kill Carter and hide his body in the sun. Or at least he would if the Hawk wouldn’t immediately reincarnate and tattle on him. Oblivious to the murder plan, Hawkman continued: “I expected to find you already wet with another man’s seed. I wished to suck it out of you so that I could claim you for myself. The next time you come to me, you will have another man take you first.”

Jesus, the things this man said.

“Oliver?” Hal suggested, somehow managing to look completely innocent. Carter gave his first laugh of the night, of course, he would like that idea. Oliver, if he found out, would be incredibly angry, Hal wasn’t quite sure how he managed to make so many enemies from people on the same side, but he sure was good at it.

Apparently mollified by that suggestion, Carter immediately pressed his face in between Hal’s cheeks, lathering over his hole until it began to open up for him.

Carter sucked against Hal’s hole in a way that felt hard enough to leave a hickey; actually Hal wasn’t sure if you could get a hickey around your asshole, but the idea definitely fit in with Hawkman’s claiming kink. Almost as if sensing that he had gotten distracted in his own thoughts, a tongue pushed its way inside him.

As it squirmed around inside him, Hal pushed his ass back against Carter’s face. “Deeper, please. Oh, Hell, please fuck me!”

He could feel Carter’s low chuckle against his hole. The man was practically saying ‘later’ with his rumbles. Hal was starting to suspect that the current goal here was for Hawkman to torture him with his tongue.

Eventually, far too soon, Carter pulled back, drool dripping down his chin. He ran both of his thumbs over the sopping wet hole. “Beautiful.” He murmured.

Hal, who was somewhat grumpy because Carter had pulled away before he was able to come on his tongue, grunted. “What’s the hold-up?”

Carter reached across him, dragging the bottle of lube that Hal kept on the bedside table towards him. With deft hands, he lubed up his monster-sized cock. “I was just thinking about how much I wanted to claim you.” As the thick head pushed its way into him, Hal opened his mouth in a desperate keen. Finally, he was finally going to be filled again. “Do you think the others would notice if I made it so you couldn’t sit for a week, or are they used to it?”

It had been so long since he had felt any kind of ache when someone pushed into him. “Use me. Please just use me.”

“Oh, trust me, I will. I’ll throw you over the table in the meeting room and fuck you in front of everyone,” The pace that Hawkman was setting was faster than Hal was used to. “I’m surprised it hasn’t happened before, any of them could take you at any time. Would you like that? People lining up to use you, leave you dripping, your hole so used that you can’t do anything to keep the seed inside anymore?”

His hands were gripping Hal’s ass so tight that he was sure to have bruises the next day, and his balls were slapping against his ass hard enough to hurt. “Please,” Hal breathed. “Carter please.”

Too soon Carter was spilling inside him, doing his pants up, already leaving. Hal hadn’t really expected cuddles. “Let Queen take you tomorrow morning, then come to me.”

A few moments later, the sound of the door sliding shut reached Hal’s ears.

Chapter Text

Most of the time, if you walked into a room and found a group of six of your villains standing there, waiting for you, you would run, or at least call for backup. It had been a stupid suggestion, the last time he’d fought one of them, but he’d ended up coming out to a large house on the outskirts of Coast City anyway.

As Hal surveyed the group, though, it wasn’t a feeling of regret over coming to this place that filled him, it was more like all he could feel was gladness that he wasn’t going to be fucked by a humanoid shark.

A man split off from the group, he was clad in the military uniform of a specific Eastern European country, his red cape flapping as he walked. He circled Hal as if he was prey, his eyes taking in every inch of Hal’s body appreciatively, and if his eyes lingered a little too long on Hal’s ass, well, it wasn’t like they did the same in every fight they had ever had.

“Bito,” a weary voice came, sounding for all the world like he had to deal with this every day. Neal Emerson raised a hand up to Sonar’s chest. “You’re going to make him leave.”

“I was looking!” Sonar snapped. “Polaris, ti prasica.” What followed was ten minutes of bickering, punctuated with shouts in Modoran that made Hal almost glad that he agreed to the rule that he keep his ring in his pocket.

He headed away from the two fighting villains and towards where Goldface had seated himself in the center of the room. If anyone was going to be the ringleader here, it was him.

Dotted around the room, he could see an oddly disinterested looking William Hand, Abel Tarrant, who, to Hal’s knowledge, was supposed to be trying to go straight right now, but who was apparently still in contact with his old buddies, that was probably a bad sign. To the right was Paul Booker, who was actually working with the League right now, their eyes met, and they shared a silent agreement that neither of them would mention today to anyone.

“So,” Hal said, taking a surreptitious glance down at Goldface’s crotch, which showed that he had already loosed his cock from his pants. It was just as golden as the rest of him. “When do we start?”

Goldface’s eyes traveled over to the pair still fighting in the corner, he looked like he was calculating just how long they would be, it must have been a while because he quickly pushed Hal downwards. “Now. Suck me.”

As Hal sank down to his knees, an outraged cry came from that corner. “Prekleto, Kenyon, I called dibs!”

“And I waited for you, Sonar,” Goldface said, pushing the head of his cock between Hal’s lips, “now you have to fuck him when he’s already loose and full of cum.”

Hal sucked at the head of the cock in his mouth as more swears reached them, everyone already knew that the master of sound was a drama queen. Pulling off, he began to lather the golden cock with his tongue. Wait, could the rogue even feel this? A glance upwards showed that his lips were open, and his head thrown back. With a smirk, Hal took the cock back into his mouth all the way.

“Hand? You want his ass?” Kenyon shot behind him, one hand gripping the back of Hal’s head. The question came out as more of a moan.

Black Hand gave them a cold look. “That’s disgusting.”

“Huh, why did you even come if this offends your Christian sensibilities so much?” Goldface didn’t sound like he much cared.

“I thought you were going to kill him,” the look in his eyes seemed almost sad. Weird. Hal figured that he might just want to watch though, that wasn’t a problem for him.

“Tarrant, you’re up next then,” The Tattooed Man stepped up, he was thick, uncut, reminding Hal every inch of the sailors he used to ride when he was in the Air Force, at least until his CO found out. Rich hadn’t told anyone, but he had still insisted that it stop.

Tarrant touched two of his fingers to a tattoo on his arm and two more up against Hal’s hole. He sounded almost disappointed when he said, “you came prepared.”

“You have lube on demand?” Hal pulled off the cock to ask. Kenyon growled at him, and he immediately went back to blowing him. Damn, he was demanding.

Tarrant pushed in, carefully, more carefully than Sonar probably would have. Once he was fully seated he began to move, he moved slowly too, it was driving Hal absolutely crazy, Tarrant wasn’t moving anywhere near fast enough for him to come.

“Figured it out yet?” Goldface was saying, patting Hal’s hair comfortingly. “Tonight is for us, you’re not going to come at all tonight. …In fact: Abel. Cock ring.”

“I’m not putting a permanent drawing of a cock ring on my body for you.”

When Tarrant began to speed up, though, he gripped Hal’s cock tightly, he was sticking to the rules, even though he was going to come himself, that didn’t mean that Hal was allowed to. A hot rush of cum rushed into his hole, immediately followed by a feeling of emptiness and the dreaded awareness of the seed beginning to escape.

“Emerson, you’re up,” the next cock that lined up against his asshole slid in more easily, Hal pushed back to meet it.

Neal hummed. “I can tell you take it a lot,” he didn’t sound disappointed, Hal wondered if he was dealing with Neal Emerson or Doctor Polaris today, but then immediately dismissed the thought. Doctor Polaris would have taken him away from the others to his own personal lair in the North Pole. “By the time the last of us has his turn, you’ll be gaping. Would you like to know what we have planned for later?”

“No spoilers!” Sonar shouted from the side.

“Alas, it would appear that someone doesn’t understand the concept of dirty talk,” Neal resumed his thrusts, the force of which pushed Hal forwards so that he was essentially fucking his mouth on Goldface’s cock every time Neal pushed all the way into him. A rush of spunk filled his mouth sooner than he had expected.

The aptly named Major Disaster asked to have his mouth next, apparently because he was fed up with whining about how loose Hal would be by the time he was done with his ass. He stroked the side of Hal’s face before he pushed in, even though another man’s cum was leaking out of the corners of his mouth and was gentle with him as he drove into his sore throat.

The second load of the night spilled into Hal’s ass, and the third dick slid into him with a “Jebe- It’s like fucking... fucking kaša," Sonar wasn’t precisely careful as he tore into Hal’s ass, apparently so worked up by waiting that he needed to chase his own orgasm immediately. Booker pulled out of his mouth, despite not having come yet, so that he could kiss him and stroke his hair comfortingly. Hal didn’t really mind, he’d been used before, he didn’t understand why his ex-rogue was upset.


Apparently, what they had planned afterward was to use Major Disaster's League communicator to call the League over to the building they’d rented. As the disappointed Trinity’s gaze traveled over his naked body, including his gaping and leaking hole, Hal suddenly felt as if he was in a lot of trouble.


Chapter Text

Hal had never been much of a fan of working with John Constantine, he hated having people dig around in his head, Abin Sur had done it, then Constantine had done it. The thing was, they both wanted to remove his emotions, Abin had done it with fear, and maybe that had been a flag for a whole bunch of later revelations about him. What Abin had done felt less intimate though. Constantine had gotten rid of his romantic feelings, as well as any of his related memories.

But of course, the Guardians had put him on a case that turned out to have a lot more to do with mysticism than anyone could have guessed. Zatanna had been busy with a show, and Doctor Fate had been indisposed with trying to keep together the fabric of the universe.

Hal found himself outside a dilapidated apartment in East London, in the rain, trying to convince the man inside that no, he wasn’t here on League business, and no, he wouldn’t leave if Constantine just asked nicely. What kind of question was that?

“You here to punch me again then?”

Their last meeting had hardly gone well, but what the fuck did Constantine expect?

They’d ended up working together of course, as it soon turned out that the alien sorcerer was trying to summon a powerful Duke of Hell into the mortal realm. Could he not get given any ordinary cases?

As he moved to leave though, Constantine gripped his shoulder. “Hold on, he put a curse on you.”

Right there, on his neck, was what looked like a tattoo. It wasn’t a pentagram, more like four spirals that were all connected to each other.

“What does it do?”

Constantine shook his head, placing a hand over the seal and speaking a few words in an ancient dead language. Nothing the ring could translate, which was weird. He stroked his hand against Hal’s neck, voice oddly soft as he spoke again, this time in English.

“Well it’s getting late in California,” which meant it was about seven in the morning in London, Constantine hadn’t even been to bed yet, “you should go sleep.”

It was then that Hal did something incredibly stupid, he leaned in and kissed Constantine.

Constantine made a surprised noise but didn’t exactly make any move to pull away.

“I could sleep here?” He suggested, fully planning on not getting very much sleep at all.

“Somehow I get the feeling you’re not planning on sleeping.”

They didn’t move from the couch at all, didn’t even take off their clothes, it was just Hal straddling Constantine’s thigh, rubbing up against him.

His knee pressed up against the Scouser’s crotch, Constantine was slowly getting coaxed to hardness. Something about someone riding your thigh did that to people.

Hal shifted, grinding his crotch directly against Constantine’s own, he bucked up against the unexpected touch. This is fine, he decided, just coming in his pants. He’d taken it up the ass from three separate people just a few days before, and he didn’t need or want to be fucked quite yet.

Their lips met in another messy kiss, and Hal wondered if this had what happened all those years ago, the memories of which had been erased. He had been so young when it had happened before he met John or even Guy so he might have come disappointingly fast.

He could feel Constantine fumbling with the zipper of his jeans, getting his cock out of his pants, he pulled out of the kiss, admiring it, before giving it a few exploratory strokes. Hal scrambled to get his pants open too.

With skin finally touching, Hal gave a small gasp at the feeling of the heat pressing up against him. Their cocks rubbed together, leaking precum all over, Hal tried not to think of the other dozens of people who had probably done the exact same thing in his place (which might have been a little hypocritical). Reaching out a hand, he jerked them together. Cum splattered over the couch, and Hal collapsed on top of the other man.

Moments later he was being pushed to the floor. “C’mon, you need to get going already. I’m about to have company.” ‘Company’ turning out to mean ‘a bunch of wizards who are pissed at me’ did not make the sting of rejection any less painful.

Chapter Text

“You wanted to see me, Rich?” Came a cheerful voice from the door, Captain Davis glanced at the clock, he’d actually arrived on time this time. Not that he’d managed to learn basic respect.

The man at the desk sighed, another man would have written up the brat by now, he had never referred to his commanding officer as ‘sir’ in the entire time that he’d been working with him, of course, Rich was weak to the younger man, who’d been thrust upon him days after being officially disowned by his family.

“Sir,” He said, motioning for Hal to sit, “what do I have to do to get you to call me sir?”

Hal opened his mouth, apparently about to say something he really shouldn’t.

“Actually, don’t answer that.” At least Hal was sitting on a chair, and not on the desk. “Do you know why you’re here?” He said in his most commanding voice.

“Hopefully it’s about the plane and not about the-” Jordan started.

“Not about the what?” That Hal was so distracted by something that he didn’t recognize their most common game was suspicious, and what was that about the plane.

“Nothing, Rich, absolutely nothing,” and he stole Richard’s sandwich right out of the box, which was an offense that warranted a Court Martial if he ever saw one. However, he was going to do what Hal had suggested on one previous occasion, he was going to try out a different punishment.

“Jordan,” he said in a low growl. “Come over here.”

The stiffening of Jordan’s body was visible, whether it was because he was that uncomfortable with authority or not wasn’t clear. But if you didn’t respect authority, you didn’t join the military, it was that simple. “Jordan!” He repeated. “Over here!”

Finally, the Second Lieutenant shuffled over with his head down.

“I’m going to spank some respect into you,” he patted his lap, indicating that he wanted Hal to lie across it. “Pants down and call me sir.”

“Rich are you-” Whatever he saw in his Commanding Officer’s face made him stop. “Are you kidding, sir?”

“I’m not kidding, Jordan, over my lap.” He didn’t give any acknowledgment of the other man managing to call him sir, he should have been doing it anyway.

Hal took in a sharp breath, undoing the button of the pants of his uniform trousers and sliding them down. Rich was reasonably sure that Marvin the Martian boxers would have been frowned upon by the higher ups, but he just offered a raised eyebrow.

Hal was shivering as he pulled those down too, he carefully folded the garments, placing them on the desk. The Flight Commander’s gaze traveled over his muscular legs, one with a long, jagged scar running over it.

Suddenly Hal was over his lap, Rich almost chastised him for just jumping straight onto his lap, since his heart had given a tiny jump at that. What he did instead, though, was run his hand over the round, toned ass that had just been offered up to him. His hands were cold, and he heard Jordan give a sudden gasp at the touch.

He couldn’t bring himself to feel bad as the first crack rang out through the room, Jordan didn’t cry out, a quick glance confirmed that he was biting down on his tongue, desperately trying to avoid getting caught.

There was a quick flurry of smacks, painting Jordan’s ass red, but still, he didn’t cry out. Really, he was being good today.

The only change was the rock-hard cock pressing into his thigh, which Jordan was trying to pretend didn’t exist but was painfully evident to anyone with nerve endings. “You’re a bad man aren’t you, Jordan?” He stroked over the red skin, smirking when that resulted in a hiss. “Really dishonorable.

The next time the hand came down, the younger man couldn’t avoid crying out, Davis repositioned him so that his dick was trapped between his superior’s thighs, so that every time the rough hand came down against his ass, he would rub between his thighs.

One. Two. Five more smacks and Jordan is leaking in between his thighs, completely drenching his uniform pants, by the time they reached twenty, sticky cum covered his pants. Rich was going to need to get those dry-cleaned before one of his own superiors noticed that.

“Lean over the desk, Second Lieutenant,” Jordan was slightly disoriented, but he answered the request with a cheery ‘yes, sir,’ he was still ass up, but Rich supposed that was what he got for not specifying.

The Flight Commander pulled down his own, sticky, uniform pants, pushing his cock in between Hal’s thighs. “I’m not fucking you today,” he said, “you have to get in the plane again this afternoon, and it would be better for everyone if you could actually sit down for it.”

Jordan squeezed his thighs together, making the space that the Captain could thrust into smaller, tighter. He grunted in response, increasing the speed of his thrusts. They soon became more desperate, pre-cum lubricating the slide slightly more.

His hips suddenly juddered to a halt, and he painted his subordinate’s thighs with cum. He rested for a moment, gripping Jordan in a hug from behind. Eventually, though, Hal peeled himself out of his grip.

“So, Panchos tonight?”

Chapter Text

“Jesus,” Hal said, brushing his hand over the dick, at least he would say dick, it didn’t really look much like the human penis. “It’s beautiful.”

Kilowog’s penis was dark pink in color, ending in a deep purple, with small tentacles separating off from the main body. Visible through some translucent skin was an orb that Kilowog said with some embarrassment swelled up when inside the partner. He also said that no, he would not be trying that with Hal today, probably because Hal looked a little too excited at that prospect.

Kilowog was apparently a little worried about their size difference, to begin with, and even Hal’s insistence that his ass was well-traveled territory didn’t entirely appease him.

“I showed you mine, now you show me yours,” Hal was already suckling at one of the tentacles, liquid flooded into his mouth, it was sweet, it was good. So Bolovaxian cocks produced their own lube then.

Kilowog pulled him off when it became clear that he was perfectly happy remaining like that for as long as possible.

“I said you show me yours, Jordan.”

Hal reddened a little. “It’s pretty boring.” But eventually let the ring drop to the bedsheets, his construct costume dissolving into nothingness.

Kilowog ran a hand over Hal’s naked shoulder. “Looks like a constellation you could see from Bolovax Vik,” it took a few moments for it to ping that he was talking about the freckles.

“Huh, weird,” Hal didn’t get to voice any further comment, because that was precisely when the alien’s large hands pressed him down against the bed.

His eyes traveled over Hal’s body with great interest, even though it was common for Lanterns to sleep together, the curiosity of what aliens’ bodies looked like, how they had sex and how compatible they were with each other being all too frequent. The Guardians had banned fraternization, but most people indulged in secret.

When Kilowog’s gaze turned towards Hal’s genitals, he asked one question.

“Why does it suddenly change color like that?”

“What?” Hal looked downwards, unable to see anything different. “Maybe ‘cause the blood’s rushing through it?”

“Not that,” One large finger traced the line that went all the way around his cock, and Hal didn’t manage to hold back his hiss. “This.”

“Oh, uh, circumcision. My family’s Jewish so-” He broke off, realizing that Kilowog had no frame of reference for Judaism, or for circumcision. He also knew that he did not want to be explaining Earth religions to an alien when he could be having sex. “Guy still has his foreskin, so his looks different, we can talk about it later.”

Kilowog was willing to drop it, and Hal offered a silent prayer for that. “You said that you had somewhere I could insert into.”

Finally, they were getting somewhere good, Hal turned over onto his stomach, ass in the air. He used both hands to spread apart his cheeks, revealing his entrance for inspection.

Kilowog rubbed one thick finger, already as big as an Earth Man’s cock would be, over it. He rubbed for a good long while. Over a minute. Then he spoke again. “No.” He said simply.

“No?” Hal asked, his voice high pitched. “What’s wrong?”

“Couldn’t fit my finger in there,” Kilowog grunted. “Said I wouldn’t do anything if I thought it’d hurt you. I’m too big for you, Jordan, you just gotta accept it.”

“What if- what if I had another idea?” He pushed himself up onto his knees as he said it.

Steam came out of the other Lantern’s nose as he snorted. “All your plans are pretty terrible, poozer.”

“No, no, this plan is good, okay. On Earth, we have this thing called Sixty Nining.” He had hoped that the ring would be able to translate that, but from how confused Kilowog looked, apparently not. “Okay, so lie down on the bed, Big Guy.”

The bed creaked under the weight of the Bolovaxian, being designed for human use, but it didn’t collapse. When Kilowog was comfortable on the mattress, Hal carefully swung a leg over his head. “Ah.” He said, realizing a problem.

“I was gonna mention the height difference, but I didn’t want to ruin your plan.” Kilowog's voice sounded precisely like he was about to enjoy telling everyone how stupid Jordan had been.

“Not like I need to come tonight,” Hal said lightly, shifting himself further down Kilowog’s body so that he could take him into his mouth. The alien was huge, so huge that Hal could only just fit a third of its length into his mouth. He needed to be smart with this. A sudden flash of inspiration and he tugged at the small tentacles bottom of Kilowog’s cock, sweet blue liquid flowed from the tentacles.  Wrapping both of his hands around the cock, Hal began to jerk it.

He swallowed around the head of the cock, applying suction to it. Kilowog gave a groan from somewhere behind him, so he must have been doing something right.

The alien canted his hips up slightly, which meant that the head of his cock was hitting the back of Hal’s throat. It still wasn’t nearly halfway inside, but Hal nevertheless choked around it.

“Sorry,” Kilowog mumbled, making an apparent effort to keep his hips still from then on.

Hal was sure that his mouth and hands were becoming stained all over by the blue lubricant that was covering them, and he was just wondering how he would get back to his quarters without being spotted when his mouth suddenly tasted like someone had dumped three bags of salt into it. Kilowog had just come without any warning. Hal practically gagged at the taste, but he still managed to force himself to swallow.

As he was trying to recover, strong hands gripped him around the middle.

“What are you doing?!” Hal yelped, being dragged back by his hips, but it soon became apparent that Kilowog wanted to suck him off as well. His mouth was huge, but it was warm and wet, and Hal found himself thrusting down into his mouth. His dick wasn’t anywhere near large enough for the alien to choke on, and Kilowog was essentially just letting him fuck his mouth.

A colossal tongue was massaging the underside of his cock as he thrust, and he gave a grunt of satisfaction.

Hal came into Kilowog’s mouth just a few moments later, and he was amazed when the alien made an effort to swallow as well.

“Hey,” he said, rolling off of the alien. “I have another idea, it’s called rimming.”

“Jordan. Do you ever slow down? Even for a minute?”

Chapter Text

John’s hand squeezed round ass cheeks as his old partner rode him, it was hard not to when they were right there. Hal had come into his office that evening, said something about spending time with him, John had been writing up the events of the last mission when Hal had kissed him.

Now John was sitting on his desk, cock deep in his partner’s ass, it was hard refraining from referring to Hal as his partner, even after becoming leader of the GLC, it was hard shoving down the jealousy every time he partnered Hal up with Kyle, he missed working with Hal, camping on empty planets with him. “Couldn’t you have waited until I was back in my quarters?” John asked, a little more indulgently than he should have.

“Maybe if you didn’t stay at your desk until 3 in the morning I would have,” Hal grumbled, shifting his angle as he brought himself up and gasping as he dropped himself back down.

“You okay?” John asked, concerned that Hal might have hurt himself. He was a pretty big guy, and he hadn’t heard anything about Hal being with someone for a while.

“It’s okay,” Hal seemed unconcerned at least, he didn’t even stop for a moment. “Just feels like it goes deeper when I’m on top.”

John was about to suggest that they change positions to make it more comfortable for Hal when the sound he had been dreading came from behind them.

It was the sound of his office door sliding open.

“Oi!” Guy Gardner’s loud voice came from the doorway. “What’s going on here?!”

If he couldn’t tell just from looking, would he believe any lie that they fed him, John wondered.

“I called dibs for tonight, Jordan!” Apparently not, he wasn’t as dense as he seemed, and dibs? John’s eyes traveled to Hal’s face suspiciously.

“Dibs?” He asked, voice bland as flour.

“Oh, I kinda forgot about that,” Hal said sheepishly. He forgot about it? How could he forget about something like that? “Hey, I got an idea.”

John felt the same sudden dread that he felt every time Hal Jordan said that he had an idea, but Guy actually looked intrigued.

“I can take both of you inside me,” Hal smiled, “at the same time.”

“Jesus,” Guy laughed, and John’s eyes snapped over to him. Guy must have interpreted that as a glare because he continued with a: “you have to admit that’s kinda hot.”

John shrugged at Guy, running a hand over Hal’s back. No matter what Hal said, he was going to worry about him. “Just as long as you don’t get carried away. If I’m gonna be jammed up right next to you, I don’t want friction burns.”

John began to pull out, ignoring the pleading look in Hal’s eyes. Really, he was the one that suggested this and the second he wasn’t being filled anymore he started whining.

As soon as John was free, Guy shoved four fingers into Hal’s ass, seeming oddly concerned with how prepared he was for someone who supposedly hated him.

John, ever helpful, started adding his own fingers, making sure that he was capable of taking eight of them without flinching. Finally, Hal let out a groan: “Enough, I’m not trying to get double fisted here.” John and Guy shared a look before Guy pulled his fingers out with a shrug.

Immediately, Guy had his cock squeezed together with John’s as Hal began to position himself over them, both of them making satisfied grunts as he began to slide down.

Suddenly Hal cried out, and both Guy and John immediately scrambled to pull him off, thinking that both of them at once might have been too much, that they might have been tearing Hal apart (and John was seriously doubting all of Guy’s claims of hating Hal with how quickly he responded), but he shook his head. Dammit, he was planning on toughing it out.

It took almost too long, but eventually, he managed to lift himself up and slam himself back down.

For John, the feeling of being pressed right up against another hot cock as they both bucked into the warm, tight channel was amazing, and then Hal was just wailing, clenching his ass around them and it was almost too tight at that moment.

They began to move in tandem, John sliding up into Hal first, while Guy slid down. Guy set a punishing rhythm though like he just wanted to come and get it over with. John, who preferred to set a slower pace, found himself struggling to keep up with him.

Guy was the one who came first, his cum easing John’s slide even more. John wrapped his hand around Hal’s own cock as he thrust into him, unsure if Hal would be able to come just on his cock. Hal begged the entire way, but come he did, covering John’s hand with white.

The image of Hal gripping his hand and pulling it up to his lips, tongue flicking out to lick his own cum off of John’s fingers, that was what made John come, and that was what would be the image in his head every time he jacked off for the next month.

He eased out of Hal slowly, pulling him into a loose embrace as Guy continued railing on him.

“Hey, Jordan, can I have dibs for tomorrow?” He asked, even though John sincerely doubted that Hal would have recovered by tomorrow.

Chapter Text

Coast City was easy pickings half of the year. The green menace that had appeared in recent months was only there some of the time, no one knew where he went the rest of the time. Presumably somewhere in space, but he left no replacement to look after his turf on Earth. That was dangerous, frankly, but since it helped out Cold, he didn’t really mind.

They’d hit up Coast City about once a year, Flash tended to not hear about it until they had already done robbing whatever joint they’d picked.

It was always the easiest job of their year.

Except for this time. This time a glowing green light had floated down behind the two of them.


“I cannot see Barry being happy about this,” the man was saying, wearing only a green domino mask. That wasn’t really an effective method of keeping a secret identity, if Snart could be bothered he would probably be able to figure out who Green Lantern was in a few hours. “You guys had better not mention it, I don’t want the ‘I’m disappointed in you’ talk.”

Barry couldn’t really talk. Snart wondered if mentioning that the Flash regularly shared their bed would tear apart the Justice League.

Mick shot him a look over the Lantern’s head that clearly said, “Should we tell him?” Snart shook his head, running his thumb over the man’s lips. Green Lantern almost immediately sucked it into his mouth, which was somewhat unexpected. It was like he was desperate for something to be put in there.

“You’re gonna make your rogues jealous, you know. Being kinda unfaithful here.”

“Most of them have already had a go,” The Lantern said, and that was that. They thought they had a messed-up relationship with the Flash. But at least they could actually treat him well, it sounded like Greenie’s villains just fucked him as stress relief and left.

“Gonna make us jealous,” Rory said, missing the implication, Barry hadn’t exactly come to them for sex in a while, it was probably because of him trying dating again, but they missed having him in their bed.

“Sinestro?” Snart asked, he’d met the alien on a few different occasions, and there was definitely a hint of obsession there.

“No, uh, his dick has barbs on it, it wouldn’t be a good idea.” Although that just added more questions about how he knew that.

The blush that spread across his face when they shared a look was new, and a toothy grin spread across Snart’s face.

“You want his mouth or his ass, Mick?” He asked Rory since his opinion on these matters was most important, it was an almost unnecessary question though. Years of experience told him what the answer would be. Mick Rory was an ass man.

“You already know,” Rory smirked, using his large hands to spread the Lantern’s cheeks. “Aren’t going to need a lot of lube here.”

The lantern said something about being surprised that they even carried lube on these jobs, which was fair, mostly it was for having sex in the back of the getaway van.

Snart slipped his fingers into the hero’s mouth, forcing him to open it up for him, the Lantern was being oddly obedient though, so he spoke his next order. “Keep it open,” he said, unzipping his fly.

As one criminal was pulling down his pants, the other was exploring the Lantern’s ass with his fingers. “Didn’t really need to bother with fingering him,” he was saying, leaning in to whisper in the man’s ear: “You really are a cockslut aren’t you?”

The Lantern nodded, probably recognizing it as an opportunity to get fucked sooner. He was oddly easy to read.

Captain Cold pressed the head of his cock against the man’s lips, which he opened gladly. Snart gripped the back of his neck, pushing himself deeper into that throat.

Suddenly the hero whimpered. One quick glance proved that Rory had pushed in, his own personal experience meant that Len knew that Mick was huge, but he had thought that someone who was apparently regularly sleeping with aliens wouldn’t be surprised by it.

Rory moved almost painfully slowly, Len had never been sure if he did that out of concern or because of some sadistic need to have the person that he was fucking beg him to take them harder.

The slurping noises that the Lantern was making were obscene. Maybe it was because of the dominant aura that he projected, but many of Len’s partners would just relax their throats and allow him to fuck their mouths. This, though, this was a man who loved sucking cock. He suckled hard around Len, cheeks hollowing every time Snart thrust into his mouth.

At the same time, the man was moving his hips backward to meet every one of Heatwave’s thrusts. Rory looked like he was considering something. “Think anyone’d notice if we kept him? Doesn’t Earth have about ten other Lanterns?”

By this point, it was almost expected, but that was the moment that a red blur arrived on the scene. “Sorry I’m late, Hal, I was-” and then he just froze, eyes bugging out of his head.

Hal, since that was apparently his name, pulled off of Snart’s cock (without permission he might add) to say: “Hey, I stopped the robbery.”

Barry looked like he was about to have a conniption. Mick decided to take pity on him.

“Hey, Red, wanna join in?”

Chapter Text

“Stranger,” the green-cloaked figure spoke from behind him. If Jordan wanted stealth, that was what he would get, the spirit teleported behind him in turn. Jordan sighed, so the Phantom Stranger annoyed him. That was still delightful. “What do you want?”

The Spectre was one of the few entities who was always present in the Phantom Stranger’s existence, in fact they regularly clashed with each other. Over the centuries their conflicts had been constant, Jim Corrigan had been a rare Spectre host with whom he could get along. However, that was Jim Corrigan. The newest Spectre was someone else. Harold Jordan had been singularly challenging to deal with, from his attempt to bring Oliver Queen back to life, to being utterly against any mentorship from someone who had (frankly) been at the job much longer. Harold Jordan held the position of the second most difficult to deal with Spectre host, after Les Spectreables.

“Again, Harold,” the Phantom Stranger said, “the question is what do you want, as you are the one who is always summoning me.”

Jordan looked confused, but at least he’d learned enough to recognize that it was an aspect of himself who had called over the other spirit. “Was it the catfish?” He asked.

One of the other cloaked figures that were milling around in the room stepped forward; it was indeed the aspect that had a face reminiscent of a catfish, addressing the main body of the Spectre. “I was the one who summoned him. I did so because you are lonely, because you crave touch, and because you turn away any and all of your old friends who attempt to visit you.”

It is hard to deny something that part of you is saying, something that you know is true, but Jordan made a valiant effort in any case. “I’m not-” he faltered, “it isn’t-”

“This isn’t a problem,” the Phantom Stranger said, “you have a job to do if you’re being distracted…”


Neither of them needed to sleep anymore, the Phantom Stranger couldn’t even remember how it felt to sleep on a mattress, but Jordan readily formed a large bed with his thoughts within seconds. He gasped out what he wanted, and the Stranger knew that he would be able to take it, the Spectre was well known for his ability to manipulate his size.

Jordan shed the inner layer of his clothes, leaving him naked except for the voluminous cloak, which he was holding around himself as if it offered him a certain amount of security. So, basically, he wasn’t naked at all.

“You do realize that I’m not able to do anything if you keep that wrapped around yourself,” the spirit said and Jordan, with a sharp juddering breath, released the cloak from around himself, revealing pale, almost translucent skin, the opposite of how it had appeared while the man was still alive.

Jordan spread his legs to give easier access, and the immortal took the opportunity to push one of his fingers into the Spectre. What he was about to do to the Spirit of Redemption wasn’t something that he could imagine the Presence approving of, but it wouldn’t be the first time he’d annoyed the presence.

He didn’t need to be careful since neither of them was precisely corporeal and the Spectre could grow to a massive size. He could probably take his entire arm like it was nothing.

He pushed a second finger into the other spirit, curving them inside of him and rubbing them up against the Spectre’s prostate. Jordan whined and shoved his ass back desperately, nuzzling his face against one of the pillows.

When the third finger slid in the Stranger began to fuck Jordan with them, he watched the way the Spectre’s hole clenched around his fingers as he moved them inside him. He had the feeling that Harold Jordan might have been more sexually active than most before he died, but then he couldn’t imagine Parallax engaging in sexual intercourse with anyone. The biggest threat to the universe had mostly sat on an asteroid in the middle of nowhere, sulking. It would have been three years at least since the Spectre had slept with anyone.

Four fingers were inside the man’s ass now, and Jordan began to expand in size. It was evident that he made himself grow when he was nervous even to the most casual observer, so the immortal slowed down enough to ask: “Are you feeling alright? Would you like me to stop?”

Jordan shook his head but didn’t return to his original size and the Phantom Stranger, taking his word for it pushed his thumb into the Spectre’s hole as well. The other spirit pushed back again, and he seemed like he was trying to swallow the entire arm in his ass.

“Slow down,” the immortal said, using magic to bind the other spirit in place, any other magic user trying to bind the Spectre would probably find themselves brutally murdered, “I’m getting there.”

Slowly, Phantom Stranger pushed further into the Spirit of Redemption’s ass, until his entire forearm was inside the other spirit. He began to thrust it in and out, almost painfully slow and careful at first, but then he started picking up more and more speed.

Harold was sobbing, his ass desperately clenching down on the arm inside him, trying to pull it deeper inside himself using only the muscles in his ass. The immortal decided to give him what he wanted, as the arm continued to thrust hard and deep inside him he came practically untouched.

“Am I gonna need to get redemption for this too?” Jordan asked when he came down from his orgasm, and it took a few moments for that to register as an actual joke. It hadn’t seemed like Jordan was even capable of making jokes anymore. “Are you gonna take your hand out or can we go for another go?”

The immortal could practically feel the Presence regretting his decision to allow Jim Corrigan to move on to the next life.

Chapter Text

Hal was alone in the watchtower changing room, pulling on his sweatpants so that he could take advantage of the gym that they kept on the satellite when Ralph Dibny’s head spoke to him. Just his head, his body was probably situated somewhere in the mess hall. Hal almost jumped, there was something about the way he would do that which always felt a little strange, even if you did eventually get used to it.

“Good, I caught you!” He said, cheerful as always. “Say, Wally was wondering-”

That was the moment that his eyes started wandering, Hal had turned to face him, being unwilling to hold a conversation while staring into his locker. His sweatpants might have been a little low on his hips, and he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Ralph’s eyes seemed to be locked somewhere around his belly button.

“Did Wally want my help with someone?” Hal asked, well aware that Wally was probably trying to drag him into something that he deemed fun.

“No, uh,” while he waited, Hal scratched just below the hem of his sweatpants without thinking. Ralph’s eyes seemed unable to move from that spot. Eventually, he jumped back into motion. “Bats left so Wally was going to do the thing where he orders pizza to the watchtower,” Bruce hated them doing that, he said that it was a ‘waste of zeta technology.’ “We were going to ask if you wanted anything and- would you like some help?”

“Help with what?” Hal asked, his face scrunched up in apparent confusion. The rest of Ralph’s body came rocketing into the room like an elastic band.

“You know, um…” Ralph made a vague thrusting motion with his hips. It was awful. If he could erase that from his memories, he absolutely would. Hal almost wanted to pretend to be confused still, to see how terrible Ralph’s further attempts to explain himself would get.

It would probably be fun.

He cocked his head. “How is that help?”

“I heard that you were… I heard that you needed to have sex once a day and,” he looked suddenly uncomfortable, “I feel like I should shut up now.”

Hal shrugged, pulling off his sweatpants. “Make sure you lock the door, anyone could walk in.”

Ralph scrambled to the door, even forgetting to stretch to do so in his rush.

The Lantern had been going commando, maybe that had been a bad idea when he was about to work out, but it sure made this easier.

Making sure that the other man was watching him, he drew up his legs until his hole, still puffy from the day before, was visible, highlighting it with two fingers.

“Okay, okay, I’m done, I need to fuck you right now,” Ralph ran back towards him, only stopped by a construct hand in front of him. Hal tossed him a bottle of lube.

“Not using fingers is fine, you don’t need to try and stretch me, but at least use a little of that.”

Ralph, who was looking a lot more serious now, began to pull off his spandex costume, pouring the lube over his hard dick. As he pressed up against Hal’s hole, he commented. “Didn’t expect you to have hair back here.”

“Why?” Hal asked, strongly suspecting that he was about to have sex with a man who had never slept with another man before.

Ralph continued, oblivious to Hal’s sudden concern. “Does that mean if someone eats ass, they get a mouth full of butt hair?”

“I’ve never had any complaints, and look, if when Arthur gets done with monitor duty the door is still locked, you know he’s going to break the lock, so we should get started.” That finally got Ralph to push in.

“Hally,” he said, after a few hard and fast thrusts, “Hally, I have an idea.” The sudden stretch came a moment later.

Ralph’s cock was growing inside him, and he cried out at the feeling. He hadn’t expected it, and maybe he should have asked for more lube, but the stretch was slow enough that it didn’t really hurt that much. But it didn’t stop, it just kept growing, growing until it felt like Ralph had his entire arm inside him.

That was when Ralph started to move. Hal already felt so full that he didn’t feel like he could take it, but then he felt the dick brush against his prostate.

It was continually rubbing against his prostate, even when he pulled out to thrust, Hal’s ass was still mostly full. The non-stop press of the cock every time Ralph moved his hips had him wailing, although at that moment he could see the head of Ralph’s dick through his stomach, making a small bump every time he thrust.

Ralph didn’t even need to grab his dick, he was almost frozen in pleasure, recently Hal had been discovering that he was a bit of a size queen, but he hadn’t realized that it was quite this bad. This was pretty up there in his list of hottest sex he’d ever had.

Soon his vision whited out, and when he came to, his stomach was covered entirely in his own cum. Ralph gave him a quick kiss on his forehead before he started to pull out. He had shrunken his cock back down, thankfully, so it came out more easily than it might have done, but that didn’t stop Hal from whimpering, it felt like there was a sudden gust of cold air at his oversensitive rim, and he was almost sure that he was gaping.

“That’s the biggest I’ve ever made my dick,” Ralph commented, stroking Hal’s stomach affectionately, he sounded almost proud. “I can’t believe that you could take it.”

That was when the sound of the lock breaking came from the door, and Hal knew that they had been caught.

Chapter Text

Ace Morgan stepped into Hal Jordan’s apartment, his old partner had given him a key after all, and the first thing that he did was allow his eyes to travel over the muscled expanse of skin that was on display in front of him.

“Well, well, well,” he said, and Hal whirled around to face him. Ace noticed in interest that he was wearing a pair of green panties. Only a pair of green panties.

They were made of a thin mint colored lace, which contrasted with his tanned skin, and Ace could just imagine himself ripping them off if that wasn’t likely to just start a fight between them. Hal was hard. The pink tip of his cock was poking out of the top of his panties, it almost looked as if it was inviting Ace to touch him.

“Is that why you invited me here, then?” Ace asked, hooking his fingers into the straps of the panties, tugging the other man close. They had done this a lot, while in the forces together, fooling around with each other.

Hal wasn’t slender, which was also an interesting contrast with the pretty panties, his thighs were thick, the muscle hard under Ace’s touch as he began to tug the panties off.

“Pappy?” Hal was staring at him, he looked almost like he was sulking, which was weird if they were about to have sex. He was squirming away from the touch, and Ace let go slowly. “This is actually moving a lot faster than what I’d been planning.”

“Oh?” Ace leaned in to give his neck a little nip, smirking against the flesh as Hal shivered. He had a hard time imagining Hal planning anything.”

“Really! I was planning on doing the lap dance thing again!”

That made Ace stop. “The last time you did that you were drunk. You fell off my lap and fell asleep on the floor. I had to explain to Rich that you weren’t dead. I was hoping that I wouldn’t ever have to see that again.”

“Wow, okay last time I try to do something nice for you when you get back from one of those secret missions you never tell me about.”

“That’s kinda the point of a secret mission, Highball,” Ace pushed him down onto the couch, all but ripping the panties off. “And we’ll see if you’re still saying that after I make you scream my name.”

“I’d like to see-” he broke off as Ace ran a tongue over the head of his cock, his mouth formed a moan, which, frankly, Ace was perfectly willing to declare victory over, or he would, if Hal wasn’t already tugging him up to meet his lips with his own.

“Can we do it like the first time?” Hal breathed, and at first Ace’s brain translated that as ‘too fast, probably shit, and with bombs going off around them’ before he realized what Hal meant.

He pulled away from the other man, allowing him to turn over, before gripping both of his ass cheeks and spreading them. His fingers played against Hal’s hole until the man grunted at him and he finally did what both of them had been looking forward to.

He released his cock from his own pants, lubing himself with the bottle that he carried every time he was around Hal and allowed himself to slip in between his cheeks.

Squeezing the cheeks back with his own hands so that he would have something to fuck into, Ace began to thrust.

He moved slowly, feeling the friction against himself. That first night he had just used Hal’s ass to get himself off, he had left bruises on the flesh that had still been there the next morning. Hal had asked for it to be exactly like the first time.

Ace squeezed harder as he thrust harder and harder. The ass in his hands was jiggling every time he moved. But, unlike that first time, he wasn’t willing to let his friend go through the night without coming. He sometimes wondered what was up with Hal that he was okay with it. He reached around to Hal’s cock, which was already hard and leaking.

“Does being used turn you on?” Ace asked, and Hal gave him a little shudder of pleasure. Well, that assuredly answered that question.

The friction built, and Ace pulled back, leaving a spattering off cum directly against Hal’s asshole. “Well,” he said, “doesn’t that look pretty?” He spread Hal’s cheeks so that he could get a better look at his masterpiece. “Beautiful.” He declared finally.

Hard and fast, he dragged his hang against Hal’s cock, regretting how he’d never done that the first night, wishing that he could have just sucked him off. Hal came in his hand within a few hard pumps, and Ace tugged him back into a hug.

“Hey, are you done for the night? Or are you up for that lap dance?”

Chapter Text

Tom Kalmaku was his best friend, the only person that he trusted with this. The only person that he could trust with something like this.

Tom’s touch was soft, and his hands were cool on his body as he gently lowered him onto the bed. Hal could feel callouses rubbing against his skin on every spot that those hands touched, callouses from years of working on planes.

“Jesus, Hal,” he was saying, “I’ve stuck around for a lot of crazy plans, but this…?”

“Is it too much?” Hal asked, his throat felt dry, some part of him felt like he needed to do this, but he would call it off in a second for Tom.

Tom waved a dismissive hand at him, shaking his head. “It’s not that, but I already know if this one goes wrong, I’m going to be the one who has to tell everyone at the hospital why you have a metal rod stabbed through your dick.”

“Can you also tell John why I have to go on medical leave?”

Tom smacked his arm. “I’m telling John that it was your fault. That it was your idea and that you insisted that it’d be okay.”

“See but the thing is, John trusts you more than he trusts me, you could tell him anything, and he’d still decide it was my fault.”

Tom ruffled his hair in an oddly loving manner. “Because he knows that you’re the one out of the two of us with no regard for your own safety.”

Tom took him in hand, Hal was still completely flaccid and began pulling on his dick slowly, coaxing his friend into hardness in less than a minute. When he broke off to look to the side, there was already a pearly bead of precum at the head of Hal’s cock.

There was a case lying on the sheets next to Tom’s hand which was filled with a dozen thin metal rods, all of which were of varying widths. Tom took the thickest of the rods, rolling it between his thumb and his forefinger.

“There’s no way that this could possibly…”

Hal spoke at the exact same time. “Please don’t try to put that in first.”

With a vague thought that he didn’t think that he would be able to put it in at all, Tom slipped it back into the case immediately, replacing it with the thinnest of the selection they had available. He picked up the bottle that he was keeping on the other side of him, and used it to lube up the rod liberally, hoping that the increased slipperiness wouldn’t actually make it more likely to slip while it was inside his friend.

“Are you ready?” He asked, waiting until he saw Hal give a short nod before he began to slowly slip it into Hal’s tight slit, earning a sudden hiss from the Lantern. Tom’s eyes darted upwards immediately to make sure that his friend was still okay.

Hal only shook his head at him. “It was cold, I was just surprised.”

Tom resumed his careful push, watching the way that his friend reacted more carefully from then on. Hal bit down on his lower lip as the rod slowly slid in. He really was gorgeous, only telling him that to his face would probably make Hal’s ego grow a little too large. Instead, Tom blurted out: “Would you let me fuck you?”

Hal’s eyes fluttered open, despite all their years together Tom wasn’t quite able to determine the emotion behind them. “Morning, noon and night. You only need to ask, and I’ll be there.”

Tom could feel his face heat up as he muttered: “We’re at work at noon. I’m not fucking you in the locker room.”

“We could… Ah!” Whatever Hal had been about to say was broken off with a cry as the sounding rod slipped further inside him, he threw his head back, thrashing on the bed, which meant that Tom had to take his hands off of the rod, and press his friend’s hips down on the bed, so that he couldn’t damage himself.

“Please keep your hips still, I’ll need to stop if you can’t,” Tears were forming on Hal’s lashes, but he gave a quick nod, and, well, Tom trusted his willpower entirely.

Suddenly, just a moment later, the rod was fully seated, and Tom rubbed his thumb over the Lantern’s lips softly.

“What do you want me to do now?” Tom asked, stroking a hand up and down his friend’s cock as Hal made shuddering breaths. “Do you want me to pull it out and replace it with the next size up.”

Hal shook his head at that. “Just-” he swallowed. “Just fuck me with this one a little. Please.” He managed to breath out.

Tom was a little concerned with how that might work, but he decided that as long as he moved slowly and was as careful as possible, then everything would be fine.

He slowly pulled the rod back out until just the tip was inside his friend, before exactly as slowly he pushed it all of the way back inside. Hal cried out as it drove back in the second time, and when it was all of the way back inside Tom gave the wet head of his cock, a comforting rub. The head of Hal’s cock was absolutely soaked with precum that was already leaking out around the rod.

He could see the tension build in Hal’s muscles as he forced himself to stay still, and to Hal’s credit despite obviously wanting to speed things up by bucking his hips up onto the sounding rod, he actually did an excellent job of it. Frankly, Tom thought that Hal could do with a lesson in patience.

Tom kept up his slow pace until it looked like Hal’s entire body was shivering and cum started welling up around the rod in his slit in greater and greater quantities. Tom leaned down to kiss him, swallowing the desperate cries that came ass he pulled the sounding rod back out in its entirety.

Hal’s cock was still twitching when he pulled back from the kiss, his pupils were wide, and his lips were parted. Tom leaned back to watch him, taking everything in just in case he never got to see Hal Jordan completely broken down in pleasure again, he only stopped watching as he heard a laugh.

“How pissed,” Hal murmured, taking Tom’s hand in his own, he still didn’t look quite like himself, “do you think Sonar would be if I called his sound gun a sounding rod from now on.”

Tom sighed, deciding to use the opportunity to snuggle up against his friend’s side. “Please don’t. He doesn’t speak English that well. If he starts using it, Guy will never let it go.”

“That’s not a reason not to.”


Chapter Text

Okay, Hal thought, this had definitely been a mistake, he’d owed Orion a favor, offered to help him in an infiltration mission, and now he had been captured.

Captured. Not killed.

He couldn’t think of any reason why he hadn’t been killed.

The sound of footsteps came from outside his cell, forcing him to look up. Didn’t want to be caught off-guard here.

He wasn’t expecting Darkseid to step into his cell though.

“You.” The god said, saying the word like it left a bad taste in his mouth.

“Me.” Hal agreed, not having any memory of being a personal thorn in the side of Darkseid, which generally meant that Parallax had done something. Not that Hal was going to apologize for anything that Parallax might have done to Darkseid.

“The agreement was,” Darkseid gripped Hal’s chin between his massive fingers, “that were I to let the girl go, you would not appear in my presence again.”

That certainly didn’t sound like Parallax, which probably meant that…

“Spectre?” He asked, mostly to no one, he didn’t expect Darkseid to confirm his suspicion. In all the time he’d come back to life, he’d never run into a problem that he’d caused while he was the Spectre.

“Ah, that’s right,” Darkseid squeezed his face, and it felt like his jaw was about to pop off, “you’ve suffered a massive loss of power since last we met, so the question is…”

Hal interrupted by taking a swipe at him. “I can still kick your-” but he found himself being thrown against the floor just a moment later, a dark bruise would form on the left side of his body, where he impacted the ground, the next day.

“The question is,” his captor continued, “what are you going to do to stop me bringing that miserable dreg back here, as is my right, given your flagrant lack of respect for your side of the bargain.”

Hal had no idea what he had done while he was Spectre. It sounded like he had gone so far away from the job description of ‘Spirit of Redemption’ that someone should have taken issue. He did know, though, that if he had saved somebody from Darkseid, then he wasn’t about to just let the evil bastard take them back.

On hands and knees, he edged shakily closer to the god. There was only one thing that he could think of to do, what he thought Darkseid was implying.

He pressed his lips right up against that blue tunic, right up where the god’s cock should be.

Thick fingers grabbed his chin again. “You assume that I want your weak, used up body?”

Hal gave him a strange look. “You don’t?” He was genuinely confused.

Unfortunately, Darkseid seemed to read that as insolence. “I could take it at any time I wanted, worthless human.”

“But I don’t have anything else to give you,” Hal protested, only to feel the fingers gripping his face squeeze, making his mouth open up so that Darkseid could push his fingers inside.

“Let us see how well you can follow orders,” he mused, pulling up his tunic and revealing his cock to Hal’s suddenly hungry eyes.

It was the biggest cock that he had ever seen. He wanted it inside him. He didn’t know if it would it would even fit. He hated his brain for wanting it so much. All of that within seconds of seeing it.

“Do you see now, human, just how superior to you I am?”

Hal was only half listening as he licked an experimental stripe from the base of the cock all of the way up to the head. It practically thrummed with power, Hal wasn’t even sure how that was possible, but it was the only way he could think of to describe the sensation.

When he tried to take it all into his mouth, however, that was when his problems started, and he felt a sudden pain in his jaw from the stretch. The being that he was fellating gave a deep, smug laugh at that, which, in turn, made Hal more determined to take more of it.

He managed to get himself halfway down the cock before he couldn’t get any further, and then he began to suckle. Some part of him was annoyed by the smugness of the Apokoliptian and wanted to prove himself. Hal was known for his stubbornness, and it often got him into trouble.

“Get it wet, human, I won’t be nearly so lenient when I take you for real.”

That was when the cock pulled out of his mouth, cum splattering all over his face, until it was almost completely covered, and beginning to drip down onto his chest.

“You look so much more appealing now that I’ve marked you,” the god said mockingly, gripping his face hard so that he would leave fingerprints on the skin for days.


Two days, and what felt like endless sex, later, Hal found himself naked in Darkseid’s throne room. His ring had long since been taken from him, and he wasn’t quite sure what he was supposed to be doing there.

What he did know was that all eyes were on him, including… as his eyes traveled across the room, they met with a familiar pair of blues. Orion.

Orion who must have been there to plead for his release.

The chain that was attached to the collar around his neck was suddenly yanked downwards so that his face was right next to that of Darkseid.

“Ride me, human.”

Was he serious? In front of everyone? His eyes met Orion’s again, and he knew instantly that this had to be a condition of his release.

He swallowed but didn’t turn away from the crowd. Facing outwards, he swung one leg over the ruler’s lap, lining up the head of that huge cock up with the rim of his asshole.

Slowly, trying to relax as much as possible, Hal began to sink downwards.

He had been taking it a lot over the last 48 hours, but the stretch was still almost too much, he felt like he was going to be torn apart, but eventually, he managed to sink all of the way down.

He felt so fucking full, it was way better than he should have been, and he wasn’t able to hold back a moan. Orion was still staring directly at him, Hal wasn’t quite capable of placing the look on his face, but their eyes remained locked as Hal rode the massive alien cock inside him.

He rode it slowly at first, before Darkseid gripped his hips, moving him faster, practically just using him as a toy for getting off. He was virtually screaming at the constant assault against his prostate, but still it continued, it continued even as he came all over his own chest.

Hal whimpered again as his cock started to harden again, Darkseid hadn’t stopped fucking up into him for even a second, and every ram against his prostate sent sparks of pleasure through him. Orion stood, rushing over as if to grab Hal and run, but was forced to stop, two guards pressing their weapons to his throat.

It was only when Darkseid came inside him, filling him up with what felt like rivers of semen, and Hal had what must have been about his third dry orgasm, that Darkseid threw him into the New God’s arms like he was nothing.

“Now,” Darkseid said, talking directly to Orion as if Hal wasn’t there. “Now, you can have him. Not that I understand why you’d want to.”

Chapter Text

Orion was silent the entire journey back from Apokolips. Hal, whose every bone was currently aching, figured that that probably meant that he was pissed. To be fair, Orion was regularly pissed off in his presence, pissed off in general, and he had a feeling that it was worse whenever he had to deal with Darkseid.

“You okay?” Hal asked, floating closer to him, it didn’t do to have a conversation from several meters away.

Orion, who was apparently not ready to have a conversation, just grunted, speeding up. It was only when they arrived back at New Genesis that Hal actually got an answer.

His answer was being pushed roughly against the wall.

The cry that Orion started out with was unintelligible, the ring couldn’t translate it either. “I can practically smell him on you!” He shouted, and Hal was now sure that he was right in his assumption that Orion was pissed.

Hal wasn’t sure if it was possessiveness, or just in general not wanting Darkseid to fuck anyone, but he was leaning towards the latter. Or, at least he was until Orion slammed their mouths together and he was making out with the strongest of the New Gods.

“Get in the shower,” Orion grunted, it was clear from his voice that he was used to being obeyed. He lightly shoved Hal towards the door of his quarters.

Hal did so, but only because he was going to do so anyway and was too tired to argue, showering was just what you did after two days of sex anyway. He wasn’t exactly surprised by the size of the bathrooms on New Genesis, but he was by the fact that they apparently showered with water. High tech societies tended to go for options that involved hard light because cleaning could be done in seconds.

Teeth bit down on his shoulder, the bite was soft, but it still made him jump. Orion had seemed pissed enough to want to go a few rounds with a punching bag a few moments before.

Instead, his hands were careful as they ran over Hal’s body, exploring his bruises. He lightly tugged on a nipple as his hands moved past it. Some part of Hal wanted to comment on how light the touches were, but he knew that would make the god stop immediately.

“I’m going to clean you out now if that’s alright with you,” Orion breathed in his ear, and Hal gave a short, sharp nod in response. Fingers drifted down to the cleft in his ass, pressing against his abused hole. “Greenie, you are damn lucky the damage isn’t worse,” the god grunted, what sounded like murder in his voice, Hal hoped that didn’t mean he was going to be left here while Orion went back to Apokolips for a fight.

“It wasn’t that bad,” he gasped when one finger was slipped inside him, cleaning out any cum that might have been left inside. “Fuck, that feels good.”

The finger stopped moving at that. “Are you being serious?”

How else was he supposed to react to all of this?! He wasn’t used to someone being careful with him, and for some weird reason, it was a turn on.

The thick finger began to move inside him again, at first rotating but then thrusting in and out of him slowly. His pleasure must have shown on his face because Orion gave a low chuckle.

“We should have done this under different circumstances. Unfortunately, I’ll have to be careful today.” Being implied, of course, was that under different circumstances Hal would have been pounded into the mattress until his throat was worn out from screaming.

Hal gave a small whine of protest, only to be shut up by a swift swat against his ass.

“You would be completely incapable of taking it like this.” He slipped in another finger, thrusting them in so slowly that Hal was starting to get impatient.

He had to admit, though, that as the fingers were pushed in and out of him, no matter how slowly they moved, they were rubbing up against some tender areas, and he knew that there was no way that he’d be able to take anything rougher.

As if sensing the reaction, Orion stopped thrusting his fingers all together, instead, he used the tips of his fingers to press directly against his prostate, beginning to massage it slowly.

Hal’s head fell forward to rest against the tiles of the bathroom as the sharp jolts of pleasure rushed over him.

Orion adamantly refused to thrust his fingers at all, in fact, he pressed Hal’s hips into the wall with his elbow so that he couldn’t inadvertently fuck himself back. He just kept his fingers on that same spot until Hal’s cock began to twitch. Less cum than he usually produced dripped out of him, but he guessed that there was really no way that he could have fully recovered.

That was when he heard the sound of wet flesh rubbing against wet flesh from somewhere behind him, the sound carrying over the running water. A quick glance showed that Orion was jacking off back there, and really, he had to offer.

“Hey,” Hal said, pulling his ass cheeks apart. “You can, uh, come here if you want…”

Orion actually seemed to understand him, Hal wasn’t quite sure if he would, he was half expecting ‘of course I can come here, these are my quarters’ as a response. He pressed right up against Hal, pushing his dick against his hole.

His teeth found Hal’s neck again, and he bit down, harder this time, hard enough to leave a mark. Moments later cum was dripping down from between Hal’s thighs. Almost proudly, Orion pulled his cheeks apart so that he could get a better look at his handiwork.

“Mine.” His possessive voice growled in Hal’s ear.

Chapter Text

The General had a pretty interesting reaction to being called ‘sir,’ which Hal thought was pretty strange given his position, Hal imagined Zod on a military mission, popping a boner every time someone addressed him.

A hand slapped his ass, which, given the Kryptonian’s strength, made Hal glad that he was still wearing his uniform. “Pay attention,” the man snapped.

He straightened his back in response, and Zod slipped an arm around him, carefully pulling his ring off of his finger.

John wouldn’t approve. Hal had come out here knowing that if John found out, he would be disappointed. For his part, he thought that keeping a Kryptonian who had been willing to help them in the past happy with them could only be a good thing. John’s response would probably be somewhere along the lines of “Do I have to watch you 24/7? Don’t sleep with a man it took the entire corps to rescue you from.”

It was impossible to tell who was right in that argument.

Too fast to see, the Kryptonian moved across the room, when he returned he was carrying a strange looking device in his hand.

“I told you to arrive before the suns set,” Zod was saying, “explain to me why you arrived after the moon was already high in the sky.”

Hal tried to explain, “the debriefing overran,” but his cock was already enclosed in an almost painful grip.

“Did I ask you to give me excuses?”

Hal shook his head.

If possible, the pressure around his dick only increased. “No, what?”

Hal let out a juddering breath. “No, sir.”

“That’s right.” The Kryptonian released him, but moments later the device that he had been holding in his off hand was clicked closed around his cock, and the General was locking him up. The cage that now surrounded his cock was ornate, with some kind of attachment that tugged on his balls slightly.

“Until our next meeting then.” He said, clearly expecting Hal to leave immediately.


The next few days were a living nightmare, he couldn’t jack off, he especially couldn’t get anyone else to help him with his problem. One night he had sat up in bed with a set of construct lockpicks, trying to get the lock open. He knew that he would just get an even worse punishment if he had succeeded, but at that point, he just didn’t care anymore.

The only mercy was that Zod hadn’t made it so that he couldn’t piss.

The first morning, he woke up with a painfully hard morning wood, the cage was actually a little too tight when he was sufficiently hard.

John had been concerned when they were in the meeting that morning. He had noticed that something was wrong when Hal had been unable to sit still, he’d been shifting in his seat in a misguided effort to alleviate the pressure on his cock, Hal had nearly jumped when his former partner had rested a hand on his shoulder and asked him if he felt ill.

Hal had never felt so glad for the weird physics-bending ways that their costumes kept their genitals completely obscured, although, skin-tight as they were if you had a dick it should be evident through the uniform.

When he had finally managed to escape from his overly concerned friend, he had immediately returned to his own quarters, collapsing onto his bed with a groan.

At least the awkward situation had made his erection die down a little. It just came back every time he thought about his predicament. Sometimes he hated how horny he could get.


It was only a few days later, when John called him into his office, alone. That was weird, it couldn’t have been for business then.

His brain, unfortunately, started offering up all kinds of sexy theories about why John might have ordered him here, which sadly just made him hard again. He couldn’t even take part in any of them with the cage on! Why was he getting hard?!

The man himself was standing by the window, hands clasped behind his back. He was watching the people who were walking outside.

“Is Guy starting another fight?” He asked, and John slowly turned to face him.

The man’s voice was cold as he spoke, “I got a transmission from General Zod this morning.” Hal’s eyes widened as he heard that, Zod should have sent any request for his appearance to his own room.

Hal managed to keep his own voice carefully free of emotion as he asked: “Really?”

“He asked for you,” John continued, “to meet with him tomorrow. Alone. Naturally, I said no.”

Hal thought of his poor caged cock, that would only be freed if he met with the Kryptonian that held the key. He sounded considerably more upset as he said: “You did?”

John’s eyes, supernaturally green because of his ring, gazed directly into his. “Now, see, that response tells me a lot. Why do you do it, Hal?”

His throat felt like it had dried up completely. John continued his rant without his input.

“Do you feel like you have to offer sex to everyone that you know? Are you trying to… hurt yourself?” The way he said that last part made it clear that he wasn’t happy about the prospect of having hurt his partner.

“It’s nothing like that!” He’d said that too loudly, outside the window he could see Sodom Yat turn his head.

“When what is it?”

I don’t have any friends, floated through his head, it was an old mantra, one that had started around the time of Katma’s death. John was the one who had told him that he was running out of friends and when he had tried to ask the others for help, they had been well and truly done with him too. But if he was honest, his actions had started way before then, that was just the first time that it had become apparent. “It’s pretty obvious that I have to… offer something to people in exchange for their friendship.

“That’s called friendship. The thing you offer in exchange is your friendship! And that doesn’t explain Zod!”

Okay, so apparently now they were yelling, which was their first real fight in years. “Because he worked with us, he’s an ally, and because I want to?”

His former partner was now in his space, glaring at him. “So why, when I was patrolling over Modora, did Sonar approach me and start bragging about sleeping with you?”

Hal inwardly cursed. “Because he doesn’t know how to keep his mouth shut, and it’s not like Barry doesn’t sleep with his rogues too.”

“Barry doesn’t have sex to self-harm!”

“Well, neither do I!” Hal shouted back, well aware that people were probably now listening outside the door. “Look, a while ago, before we met, there was… someone important to me who made it clear that any kind of relationship between us required me… being available. I just don’t want to-” lose you. There was no way he could say that.

John rested his forehead against Hal’s. “Don’t go tomorrow.” He said it was a request, not an order, Hal could hear it in his voice.

“John. I do like sex. This is fun for me. You don’t have to worry about every person that I sleep with.”

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but he definitely wasn’t anticipating for John to say: “Let me come with you.”


Zod raised an eyebrow when he saw that Hal wasn’t alone like he had requested.

Hal shrugged. “He wants to watch,” and at that, a grin slid over the Kryptonian’s face slowly.

“Have you shown him your cage?” He asked, stepping forward to snatch Hal’s ring. “I want him to understand that for tonight you belong to me.” As the costume dissolved, revealing Hal’s bare skin, it became evident that his partner was staring directly at his caged cock, the eyes visible traveled downwards, lingering on the balls that were visibly stretched downwards by the attachment.

The General spoke mockingly. “Him belonging to me means I’m the only one who gets to touch him tonight.”

John growled. “You’re forgetting that I can make Kryptonite, you-”

Hal, who felt like the longer they argued, the longer he was going without getting fucked, suddenly regretted everything.

Zod moved towards Hal, grabbing onto his balls and pulling them downwards sharply. Hal hissed at that, and his cock immediately returned to hardness.

The General’s eyes remained locked with his as he clicked the key into the lock. He didn’t turn it yet. “Beg me.”

Hal shook his head.

“Such a brat. I was hoping that you could be good tonight.” He gripped Hal’s balls again, harder and began to move his fingers so fast that they were practically vibrating.

John rushed forward. “Don’t!” He said. “Just open the damn cage.”

The General regarded him impassively. “You say that, but the truth is seeing him like this arouses you more than anything, isn’t it?”

John spluttered, then, realizing that he wasn’t falling anyone, he allowed his own uniform to dissolve, revealing just how hard he was.

Zod turned back to the other lantern. “You still aren’t begging. Maybe I need to leave you locked in your cage for a few more days.”

John made a small breathy noise at that, Hal didn’t even need to look to tell that he was rubbing his own cock.

“Maybe,” Hal said, pretending to think hard. “You aren’t punishing me hard enough.”

Zod squeezed, it felt almost hard enough to burst his testicles, but he knew how much a Kryptonian would have to hold back to avoid that. Hal practically screamed. “Please, sir! Please! Oh, fuck I- Sir Please!”

The key turned in the lock, the cage opened, and Hal came all over himself.


John was stewing over something on the flight back to Oa. Hal could tell. They’d known each other for long enough to recognize barely perceptible changes in expression.

He flew closer, bumping John’s shoulder with his own. “What are you thinking about?” He asked.

John grunted. “Aftercare.”


Luckily his partner continued. “With Zod, and I’m guessing in general, you don’t ask for aftercare even if things get pretty intense. I don’t know if that’s part of your stupid…” he seemed stuck for the word, “…trade. But, if it is, can you… come to me for aftercare? Even if you’re not sleeping with me.”

Hal was silent, silent enough for John to look up at him.


But he’d stopped moving, clearly trapped in his own thoughts.

“Hal,” John said louder, and his partner snapped out of it.

He shook his head. “Yeah, I- if you’re okay with that, I’d like it.”

Chapter Text

Clark was kissing him softly, which was what he tended to do during sex. He liked to be careful and make the other partner feel as loved as possible. If Hal had one complaint, it would be that Clark was as vanilla as ice cream. Or possibly as vanilla as pouring vanilla extract directly into your mouth.

A pair of cold blue eyes was watching them. Bruce wouldn’t get involved yet. He never got involved while tenderness was still expected.

Clark was huge, with Hal didn’t exactly have any complaints about, but he wasn’t sure if it was a Kryptonian thing or if it was just Clark. Unfortunately, it did make him want to get four fingers into Hal every time they had sex, no matter how much Hal begged him to go ahead and fuck him already or insisted that he had prepared himself, he would insist that he didn’t want to hurt Hal and just wanted to be sure. Bruce always refused to get involved.

“I’m ready, Clark,” Hal tried again, after three minutes of being fucked carefully with the Kryptonian’s fingers. There was no way that Clark could possibly think that he still wasn’t properly prepped.

In response, Clark peppered soft kisses all over his face. “Yeah, now you are, but Hal? You’re really impatient.” It wasn’t like that should be news to him.

Rubbing circles over Hal’s back softly, Clark began to push into him. He was as slow as he could possibly be, and when he was fully seated inside the lantern, Hal grunted at the stretch. His eyes flicked over to Bruce, hoping for some kind of reaction, but the man’s only response was to shift slightly in his chair so that he could cross his legs.”

Clark began to move painfully slowly, pulling out of Hal and pushing back into him at almost a snail’s pace. Hal whined, practically begging Bruce to get involved, he was sure that if Bruce told him to, Clark could agree to be a little rougher with him.

“You know that he likes taking care of you,” Bruce told him, tapping his fingers on the arm of the chair, “and don’t be a brat, you’ll only make your punishment worse.”

Hal was still hard and leaking when Clark pulled out of him, he got right to the edge of orgasm, but he needed Clark to move faster if he was to go over it. The Kryptonian shifted to quickly pull him off, thinking that the erection looked pretty painful.

“Clark,” Bruce warned, his voice was rough and cold. Clark immediately stopped. “Don’t you need to take a bath now?”

They shared a meaningful look, and Clark immediately stood to leave, stopping only to kiss Hal on the forehead. He always left at this point, he never liked seeing his friends hurt each other, no matter the reason. “Yeah, I should get going,” he said when he was at the door, “play nice.”

As soon as Clark was out of the door, Bruce was tying Hal to the bed frame with a rough length of rope, it was a little too tight and dug into Hal’s wrists every time he moved. When the lantern was trussed up properly, he wrapped a blindfold around his face. He wanted to keep him guessing.

“Is that okay?” Bruce asked, and Hal nodded in response, knowing that the other man would untie him in a heartbeat if he gave any sign of discomfort.

Bruce bit him, sucking his skin until he was satisfied with the mark he left, then all contact ceased.

Hal strained his ears in an effort to hear what he was up to, but Bruce was practically a ninja, and he only got an indication of what was in store for him the very moment that a sharp whistling sound reached his ears. It was swiftly followed by a sudden pain over his ass. Hal yelped, burying his face in the pillow, which was, frankly, a ridiculous response, as his ass was still in the air, open for more swatting.

Bruce waited for him to voice his safe word, then three more lashes rained down on his ass in quick succession. Then Bruce finally spoke, apparently convinced that Hal could take what he had in store.

“Are you aware of exactly how many times you have spoken out of turn during a League meeting this month?” He asked, slipping the cane through Hal’s spread legs and running it over his exposed balls.

Hal groaned a negative because he was reasonably sure that Bruce would consider ‘voicing one singular opinion’ as ‘speaking out of turn.’

“Well, I’ve been making a note every time you’ve made a stupid comment. I’ve written every single one of them down. There’s twenty-eight, Hal. We’ve had three meetings this month.”

The lantern made a non-committal noise.

“That means you need twenty-eight lashes, Hal.”

Hal shivered, but he responded with: “Okay, sure, okay that’s fine.”

With no further word, Bruce began to bring the cane down on every part of Hal’s back and ass. Hal was sure that every swing was leaving welts. He couldn’t help it, but he came on the twenty-fifth impact, Bruce was so incensed by his lack of control that he insisted on adding ten more smacks to his punishment. Or at least that was what he claimed, Hal thought he knew him well enough to be able to discern the real reason, and his theory was that Bruce was experimenting to see if he could coax another orgasm out of him.

An awkward silence spread between them as they waited for Clark to return, and they carefully avoided looking at each other until the bedroom door swung open. Clark pulled them immediately into his arms.

He whispered into Bruce’s ear, repeating the words “He’s okay,” over and over again, Clark brushed his lips over Bruce’s forehead as he pulled the blankets around all three of them.

His eyes traveled back to Hal, and he started making comforting circles again, being sure not to brush over any of the welts accidentally.

“I swear, you two are the only people who could fight during aftercare.”

Chapter Text

Kyle had asked if he would let him paint him, and at the time Hal had assumed that he was going to end up losing his entire evening to an attempt to make a perfect portrait, hell, even when Kyle had given him the order to strip, it had made perfect sense to him.

It had had only been after Kyle began to slowly, carefully paint over his mouth that he thought to question his predicament. Of course, it had been strange when the younger lantern pushed him into the bed, exploring his body with his hands, but hey, Hal wasn’t an artist, if Kyle didn’t tell him how to fly planes Hal wouldn’t tell him how to draw. But it had been the moment the paint touched his own body that he felt that something was up.

“What are you doing?” He asked, causing the brush to be pulled away from his mouth at an almost superhuman speed.

Kyle shushed him. “Don’t open your mouth,” he sounded annoyed. “You made my hand slip.”

Then Kyle’s thumb was rubbing softly over his upper lip, collecting the blue paint that had shifted up to Hal’s nose. Kyle offered his thumb. “Suck. It’s edible.”

Hal opened his mouth, sucking on the thumb when it was pushed inside. The paint didn’t exactly taste good, but he wasn’t going to complain.

Kyle hummed, washing off his paintbrush and dipping it into the green paint, Hal was forced to sit completely still as he painstakingly painted a Corps Symbol over Hal’s chest, cheerfully informing him that if Hal squirmed too much, he could and would spank him. He’d apparently been asking John for advice.

The brush moved down his side, and Hal shivered slightly at how much it tickled. He stiffened, trying to avoid letting another Lantern know that he was ticklish, but only got the brush poking the end of his nose.

“Relax,” Kyle said, as he went back to painting one large stripe down Hal’s stomach, “I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

He broke off when he reached the treasure trail, shifting the green paint directly to Hal’s dick, it tickled as it ran over the pink head, and he found himself hardening under the attention.

“Oh, I didn’t expect you to be turned on so quickly.” Kyle switched up the paints, leaving Hal’s crotch a rainbow of color by the time he was done. “Hey, what color paint do you want on your stomach?” He asked.

Hal really had no idea, he didn’t know anything about color theory. “Uh, orange?” He asked, voice clearly unsure.

A grin slowly spread over Kyle’s face as he brought the orange paint towards them. The letter M was slowly traced out on his stomach, followed closely by I, then N, and then finally E.

“Are you kidding me?” Hal asked, suddenly regretting everything.

“It seemed fitting.”

“You want my back now?” Hal asked, already shifting over onto his front, displaying the empty canvas on the other side.

Kyle, apparently unable to help himself, gave the globes of the older lantern’s ass an experimental squeeze, before repeating the action, much harder the second time. “Jesus,” he breathed, “they’re perfect.”

Soft bristles rubbed against the round cheeks, and Hal found himself shifting to give Kyle a better view of his hole, hoping that he would actually get fucked that night. Kyle steadfastly ignored him.

“Oh, this heart looks so good on you!” he leaned back to admire his handiwork, his fingers brushing over Hal's ass again.

When the brush returned, it was right over his hole, and he gasped at the feeling, it circled him, never pushing in, just painted around it, making it more visible. That was when he heard the sound of a phone camera. “It’s okay if I draw you later, right? You look too good right now.”

Hal managed an affirmative response, by that point he was desperate to be touched by something, anything, that wasn’t a paint brush.

Kyle was completely oblivious. Instead, he was perusing his selection of paints again. “Oh, Hal, there isn’t any white paint, but I have an idea.”

It was pretty obvious what his idea was, and Hal guessed that this had been his plan all along.

Sure enough, he could hear the sound of Kyle rubbing one out behind him, making cute little moans and grunts. It wasn’t fair, he should at least be allowed to watch, but Kyle would probably complain that that ruined his artwork.

Within minutes, he could feel hot cum splashing against his back, followed by Kyle playing with it. “Beautiful,” Kyle said, as he pulled back, examining the white swirls that covered Hal’s entire back, “and since you’ve been so good… how about I clean you off,” his tongue flicked out, teasing against Hal’s hole, “you’re practically begging for it.”

Chapter Text

The agreement had happened in the days after they had been forced to team up with the yellows, John wouldn’t have been fine with him being in the room for that meeting, and neither would Guy, both of whom wanted the corps to be able to work with their old enemies with no issues.

Afterward, he had been approached by two of the other Lanterns, who had complained that their new partners were bothering them, and really what could he do, if their new situation was causing undue stress, he would just be helping if he went along with their plan.

He ended up on his knees on the floor of the communal bathroom, waiting for one of the two men he was with to lock the door. Neither of them did.

Sodam Yat’s uniform shimmered into nothingness, and he stepped forward, rubbing his cock up against Hal’s face. You would think that a Daxamite would look almost exactly like a Kryptonian down there, but there were some differences. It was yellowish in color, gradually got fatter the further down the shaft you got, and the underside was covered in ridges until they disappeared under a sheath of skin. Hal opened his mouth, running his tongue over the ridges experimentally, only to be pulled back by Sarn.

“Not yet,” The Rannian ordered, turning his attention to Yat. “You’re rushing.”

Hal was perfectly fine with rushing, because there was every chance that a Sinestro Corps member could walk in on them, and while his own corps had pretty much gotten used to him at this point. He didn’t want that information spreading to the enemy (or not the enemy, he wasn’t supposed to think of them as the enemy), or worse, having them ask to join in.

“He’s right,” Hal bit out, “we should hurry, we don’t know who else might walk in unless you want to join up with Space Ape.”

Sarn considered him for a second, before tilting his head towards the door. “Isamot wishes to join, but I understand your point.”

The Daxamite laughed, pulling Hal closer again so that his face was directly in his crotch. The scent of sweat permeated Hal’s nostrils, making his mouth water for a chance to taste, but he was shoved back on the floor. Sodam gripped his own cock in his hand, pointed it at Hal’s face, and let a stream of urine escape.

The stream of piss soaked half of his face and his hair by the time a flash of green light indicated that Vath Sarn was removing his own uniform. A second stream hit the left side of Hal’s face and began to move further down his chest.

When their bladders were completely emptied onto his skin, Sodam Yat rushed forward again, pushing the head of his dick in between Hal’s lips, as he began to slide into his mouth. He fucked Hal’s mouth slowly because if he moved any faster, his dick would probably make a hole in Hal’s skull, grunting every time Hal slid his tongue over the bottom of his cock again.

The door swung open, allowing a very pissed off looking lizard alien into the room. “Off active duty.” He grumbled. “Swing one punch and Stewart grounds you, but the yellow who tried to stab you gets off scot-free.”

“Have the first go at his ass,” Sarn said because he apparently had the self-control of a saint. “You can take out your frustration with our glorious leader out on his-” he paused when he realized that none of them knew what Hal’s relationship with John Stewart actually was, they had been partners, but the Leader of the GLC could hardly have a partner.

Isamot didn’t even need an explanation, his cock had already extended from its sheath by the time he was directly behind Hal, it was rough and scaly, but only required three quick rubs to start leaking its own lube, so he pushed in without needing to bother with preparation.

He was rougher than he needed to do, making Hal cry out when a particularly hard part of his dick grazed uncomfortably against his prostate, but the sound was mostly drowned out by the Daxamite member in his mouth.

Luckily for Hal, the Lizarkon didn’t really have that much energy in him, and he spilled inside him within a few minutes, pulling out to allow his partner to have access.

Varth was much more careful when he pushed in, and Hal cursed himself for not getting a good look at him beforehand, because he was big, about the same size as Ke’Haan had been, and he could feel the bumps that ran around the middle as they slowly, slowly pushed past his rim.

It was torture, every single time Sarn pulled out, they would tug the rim of his hole as they went, and every time he pushed back in there was a little extra stretch. Hal was hyperaware of every single little movement, so much so that he barely registered the light brush of the head against his prostate.

He was only vaguely aware of the way that Sodam Yat was fucking his mouth slightly harder and was taken entirely by surprise when the salty taste of cum flooded his mouth. Hal spluttered, coughing it out on the floor of the bathroom as the Daxamite looked at him with what resembled disappointment.

“I thought you were going to swallow,” he mumbled, brushing his thumb over Hal’s bottom lip. “We should go again.”

“No,” Sarn grunted, as he spilled inside Hal with one particularly hard thrust. “Stewart wanted us to attend a speech, it’s in five minutes, and if we’re late, he’ll be suspicious.”

A sudden surge of horror hit Hal, he knew that he had forgotten something, and he had been the one who was meant to give that speech, and there was no way that John would ever agree to let him off the hook.

Chapter Text

Hal yelped as cold metal pressed up against his hole, Michael hummed, pressing an apologetic kiss against his shoulder. It was probably a stupid idea, inserting the T-Spheres into him, but Michael had seemed pretty interested in it when Hal had suggested it. Was still interested in it now if the hard cock pressing against his thigh said anything about the situation.

“You need to relax more if we’re going to get them in,” Michael commented, and Hal struggled to bite back his assessment that if Mister Terrific were to warm the spheres up, he might be able to relax. The metal was beginning to warm up on its own.

Michael pushed two fingers into him, making sure that the liberal amount of lube that he had just squirted into Hal covered him completely. Then as he pulled them out, he began to push the first of the T-Sphere’s into him, it was one of the smaller models, one that had been built for stealth, and it was pressed into him effortlessly, Hal’s hole pulling it deep inside him.

The second sphere, slightly larger, followed, pushing the first deeper inside as it entered him. Hal whined, burying his face in the pillow, he wanted to say that everything was moving too slowly for him, but he had seen the size of some of the larger T-Spheres, he would never be able to take them unless both of them were extremely careful.

Michael, for his part, watched with interest as he pushed the third sphere, which was maybe twice the size of the original, into his bedmate. He marveled at the way the ring of muscle stretched around the sphere, and then seemed to swallow it up as soon as it was past the widest point. Michael had heard that Hal was greedy, although that had nothing to do with why he had suggested this arrangement, they had met during the crisis with the Nth Metal and had merely developed a friendship as they worked together.

Finally, he had reached the last sphere, it was one of the first ones that he had made, and as a result, it was much larger than the first few. He slowly, slowly, shoved it inside Hal, and yet the Lantern’s knees still buckled from the strain of keeping his legs held so far apart, and he dropped down low, collapsing onto the bed, whining at the insistent push inside him.

Hal couldn’t keep it in, his hole was gaping around it and trying to push it out already. It was much sooner than he had planned for, but Michael didn’t push it back inside. Instead, he moved up to whisper in Hal’s ear.

“You doing okay?” He breathed out, caressing the other man’s back. “You can let it out now if you need to.”

“No,” Hal said adamantly, shaking his head, “I can keep it in, don’t worry.”

“Clench down on it?” Michael suggested, and Hal’s eyes closed as he desperately tried to clamp down on the ball.

Michael kept on rubbing his back throughout the entire process, waiting for Hal’s expression to relax some more before he spoke again. “Now,” he said, “I want you to push them out, do you think that you can do that?”

Hal nodded, beginning to bear down on the spheres. The largest one was as difficult to get out, as, in much the same way as when it went in, Hal’s rim had difficulty stretching to match its girth, Michael peppered soft kisses over his face as he pushed it past his sphincter, offering him whispers of encouragement, until eventually, the sphere plopped down on the bedsheet.

When Michael had finally repositioned himself so that he could get a better view, Hal squeezed down hard again, trying to push out the second one, but his muscles completely gave up on him, as the second slipped out comfortably and the third was halfway out before he could catch it.

“You should just let them out,” Michael said, starting to think that this had gone far enough, he needed to make sure that he hadn’t done the Lantern any irreversible harm, but Hal stubbornly refused. “Hal...”

Hal stayed utterly still for a good few minutes, before he slowly, oh so slowly, let the third sphere out, and the final one slipped out just a few moments later.

Michael moved closer, examining Hal’s hole, which was gaping, but didn’t seem to be suffering from any lacerations, he tested it with his fingers, but they came out clean. He brushed a kiss across the other man’s hairline, whispering sweet words against his skin.

Or at least Hal was choosing to regard ‘Dumbass’ as sweet.

Chapter Text

Hal really didn’t trust Booster Gold, he thought that the man spent most of his time chasing after fame and nothing that the man had ever said or done around him had made him feel otherwise. Hal knew that Bruce trusted the man, certainly more than he trusted Hal because at least Booster had never gone insane and tried to destroy the timeline.

But, in short, they didn’t get along and tried to avoid each other at all opportunities.

Or at least Hal had thought that had been the agreement.

Hal had gotten caught as he left the gym on the watchtower, sweat was glistening on his skin, and he’d swung his towel over his shoulder, he just wanted to have a shower and get home. It had been a long day, Modora had gone back to not wanting a foreigner involved in their affairs and had spent the afternoon shooting rockets at him when he tried to return their criminal, and one of the missiles had hit his shoulder. His personal shield meant that the result was a large bruise and not a missing arm, but it still hurt.

The door swung open to reveal that Booster was leaning on the door frame, but most importantly, barring Hal’s way. “Bruce told me that I might find you here.” He said.

“Well,” he shrugged, “here I am.”

Booster’s face twisted into something resembling sadness at that response, but Hal wasn’t quite sure why, he was being polite, and he was sure that Booster didn’t actually want to have a conversation with him, he was going to try to drag Hal into his latest scheme.

“Why are you always like this?” The blond snapped, shoving him against the wall. “The rest of the League can be dicks, but you? You won’t even be in the same room as me if you can help it.”

His grip was firm, and his hand right on his bruise from earlier in the day, Hal hissed at the sudden flash of pain.

“Didn’t think you particularly wanted to be around me,” Hal said, gritting his teeth until the pain passed, and apparently the blond saw something in his face because he leaned in with a snarl and bit down on Hal’s lip, hard.

No one would ever accuse Hal of making good decisions, but he had to say that this was pretty up there as far as his mistakes went, taking off all his clothes and spreading his legs for a man who was pissed at him, all in the League’s public gym, where anyone could enter for their daily workout.

Booster pinned him down on one of the mats, one of the mats that was for public use, and really Hal should have said something, but he was too distracted by the feeling of two thick fingers being pushed into him, scissoring him, then pulling out.

His pants had been pulled down with ease, and Hal didn’t bother with underwear when he was working out, which the other man didn’t seem to be particularly surprised by, in fact, he gave a soft laugh. “Is this all to make it easier for people to get to work?” He asked, rotating his hips in a way that was embarrassing enough to make Hal want to get up and leave. He didn’t though, because Booster pressed their lips together at that moment.

Michael nipped at Hal’s bottom lip again, his tongue pushing into the Lantern’s mouth, Hal just let it happen, almost relaxing at the touch. Booster wasn’t really being rough, or at least not as rough as he could be, given that he was still in his power suit, and Hal was just in a black tank top and sweatpants, the other man could take him apart with no effort.

Then, Booster pulled his fingers out of him. He kept his eyes trained on Hal’s as Hal bucked up into the empty air, a slow smile spreading over his face.

“You know,” he said, “I don’t think I’m going to fuck you, I know that you think I’m a self-centered prick, so if I’m gonna prove you wrong, I need to make sure that you get off.”

Hal was about to ask what he meant when a hand was wrapped around his cock, jerking him slowly. A moan escaped Hal’s lips, which only made the man move his hand slower because the bastard was teasing him.

It was only when Hal’s cock was well and truly slick with his own precum that the other man did anything to pursue his own pleasure, he let go of Hal’s cock (to which the Lantern definitely had some choice words) and pressed his own right up against it.

When both of their cocks were gripped in his hand, Booster began to rub them together. Hal squirmed on the ground, a quiet groan forming on his lips, and Michael had to force himself to hold up on kissing them again, three kisses during sex definitely implied something that he was sure that the Lantern would not be happy with.

Hal bucked his hips up in a desperate attempt to get more friction, rubbing himself right up against Booster’s cock, his breathing was ragged, and Booster knew that he wouldn’t be able to hold on much longer. All Michael had to do was appear wholly detached, and all would be golden. Heh, golden.

He wasn’t able to help himself when they came together though, he brought his hand, which had been spattered with semen, up to his lips, licking it clean.

Chapter Text

Sometimes it felt like the only people who could ever understand a Spectre Host, were other Spectre Hosts. Sure, Hal was different, Hal had done something to make sure that his primary role wasn’t killing people in horrible ways, but he was good at listening. He understood that sometimes Jim just needed someone to vent to.

Or, at least, he had thought that Hal had understood.

One night, under the influence of entirely too much alcohol, Hal had thrown an arm around Jim’s shoulder to keep his own balance. “Y’know,” He had slurred in Jim’s ear, “I think I deserve punishment.” The word punishment was drawn out in a way that indicated other, more sexual meanings, and Jim had practically thrown him into his apartment when something began stirring within him at those words.

It was no secret that Hal Jordan was a very sexually active man, and there was no way that he couldn’t know that that was considered a sin. Hal was going to get himself killed.

Hal had passed out on the floor within seconds, meaning that Jim was the one who had to the Lantern onto the bed. He’d have to stay to make sure that he didn’t drown in his own vomit too.

Jim slid down into the chair in the corner of the room with a groan.

Maybe Hal did deserve punishment.

He could do this. He could roleplay. He could ignore the rush of green fire that wanted to get involved.

The sun was already over the horizon by the time he found Hal blinking up at him with bleary eyes. “Jim?” He asked, voice rough with what had to be a terrible hangover. “What happened?”

“You’re right,” Jim replied, waiting for Hal’s eyebrows to furrow in confusion. “You do need punishment, luckily I’m just the man to give it to you.”

Hal swallowed but immediately started taking off his pants, which Jim figured meant that he was excited.

“Of course,” Jim said, lowering himself down on the bed, “part of your punishment means that you aren’t allowed to cum. Now, are you going to behave, or am I going to have to restrain you.”

“I have a question,” Hal said, and that wasn’t a good sign.

Against his better judgment, Jim nodded his head, encouraging the Lantern to speak.

“So, if you’re a ghost, and you fuck me, and someone walks in… do they just see my asshole opening and closing on the bed?”

Jim sighed. “Shut the fuck up.”

Luckily, Hal decided to behave after that so they could get right back down to business.

“Really,” Jim murmured, running one of his fingers over Hal’s rapidly hardening shaft, “you are quite a slut, getting excited this easily. I suppose it’s lucky for me that I’m your first of the day.” The last part was spoken in the same disapproving tone that Alan Scott used when he addressed (or talked about) the younger Lantern, Jim supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised when Hal shivered in response.

“Put your hands up by the bed frame,” Corrigan ordered, and proving that he was perfectly capable of following orders if they were orders that he wanted to follow, Hal complied. The redhead tugged his green silk tie from around his neck and lashed Hal’s hands to one of the posts.

Jim wondered how many times Hal actually topped, he wasn’t planning on letting him cum, but he wasn’t planning on fucking him either, especially with his terrible comment about having sex with ghosts earlier. Luckily, he found a cock ring in one of the drawers of Hal’s bedside table and found himself utterly unsurprised by his discovery.

Hal whined as his cock was gripped hard, and the cock ring slipped down onto him, Jim shook his head in response.

“You were the one who wanted to be punished, don’t whine about it now.” Jim shoved down his pants, he didn’t see any need to remove any more of his clothes, his most important goal was to punish Hal here, after all.

Hal’s eyes never left his face as he slicked the Lantern up, and Jim decided that he really wanted to see the look on his face as he was ridden.

The Spectre could change his own size, which would make it much easier to take a cock up his ass after almost a decade of no sex, but Jim knew that it was a bad idea to go ghosty in this room. He didn’t know if the Spectre would try to hurt his former host, or worse, come up with a whole host of uncomfortable sexual punishments, most of which Hal would probably happily go along with.

So, he rummaged around in the drawer that he had found the cock ring in, finding a half-empty bottle of lube, and quickly, without any preamble, he slicked himself up.

“Thought you might put on a show for me,” Hal breathed out, his voice sounded husky already.

Jim thought about shoving a sock in his mouth, that would shut him up.

The older man spread his thighs out over Hal’s hips, beginning to lower himself down on top of Hal, he pushed the rock-hard cock past the ring of his hole, and just rocked in place. He hadn’t had sex in quite a while, what with his circumstances, and needed some time to adjust.

Hal groaned at the feeling of warm heat surrounding him, giving off the air of a man who had not been allowed to top in months, Jim hummed, deciding to indulge him just this once, and sunk down further, until the brunet’s cock was all of the way inside him.

He moved slowly, watching the desperate way that Hal bucked up into him, desperate for even a little more friction, which was stupid because he was only going to be making his own torment even worse.

Slowly, Jim dragged his hand over his own cock, bouncing on Hal’s cock with each movement of his hands. Jim didn’t miss the way the younger man licked his lips while staring at his crotch, as if he wanted to taste. It was such a shame that he absolutely refused to reward the man’s bad behavior.

Especially not when his skin would look so much better after he had a good spanking, really, Hal had been very bad these last few months, his punishment should last at least a few more hours.

Corrigan found that he was about to cum sooner than he had anticipated, but wanted to regain enough control to continue this punishment, so he couldn’t cum on Hal’s cock, where he might have the urge to keep riding until he had made up for all the orgasms that he had missed in the last decade or so.

He pulled off before he even came himself, moving up towards the Lantern’s face, all the while he continued to rub himself off, leaving his own mark over Hal’s lips.

Hal squirmed against his bonds, trying to get free so that he could jack off, grind against the mattress, anything. Corrigan moved to breathe in his ear, an almost evil grin spread across his face. “Did you think that your punishment was over, Jordan?”

Chapter Text

Colonel Rick Flagg Senior lay in his hospital bed, he had been badly burned in an explosion, but by some miracle he remained alive, this likely had more to do with the alien rescuing him from space than any innate ability, but he had still been shaken by the experience. He lay there in his bed, enjoying his peace and quiet, but peace and quiet couldn’t last long, and he was soon interrupted by a series of questioning taps against his doorframe.  

His eyes flicked to the door, and he almost groaned when he saw Hal Jordan standing there, now he regretted waking up.  

“You crazy old man,” Jordan stepped into the room, not even waiting for Flagg to welcome him inside. “I thought you’d actually gone and died.”  

He had intended to die, and the pounding headache that had started the moment that Jordan knocked on his door made some part of him regret the fact that he had survived. Could he not have been visited by someone a little less loud and a little more helpful?  

“Where’s Faraday?” He asked, voice even gruffer than usual, his throat had been parched for he didn’t know how long. Surprisingly, Jordan held up a glass of water so that Flagg could take a few sips before he replied.  

“He’s at home, it is gone midnight,” he shot a cheeky grin at Flagg, “you’re stuck with me as a nurse.” 

“Pass, there’s no way you could pull off that uniform.”  

To his surprise, Jordan didn’t start a fight in response to that, he just sat down on the edge of the bed, examining the colonel’s face.  

“What?” Flagg snapped, about to tell him that he really didn’t care if the fire had burned his face, he was so uncomfortable with the examination.  

“I was just thinking that if you hadn’t scrubbed me from the mission, I would be lying on the bed beside you.”  

Or dead, Flagg didn’t say, he wasn’t sure where this conversation was going, but it was taking far too long, and if he had been able he would have gotten up and left the room.  

“But since I’m not...” The younger pilot started, before pausing, Flagg wanted to scream. “Look, I want to suggest something, but I’m not sure how you’re gonna react.”  

“You’ve never worried about my reaction to your suggestions before, in fact, you seem to enjoy torturing me with them.”  

“Ugh, okay, you’re being a dick about this already,” he chewed on his lower lip before sighing, “I was just gonna say that the burns on your hands probably make it hard for you to jack off.”  

Really, Flagg should never have agreed to be given a blowjob in a military hospital, but Hal gave him the same disarming grin that he had given him earlier, and he found himself agreeing. 

Jordan settled in between his thighs, tugging up the hospital gown just enough that Flagg’s cock was bared, and the colonel found himself silently thanking the heavens that his crotch hadn’t been burned up in the explosion too.  

He was already hardening with interest when the brunet pressed his nose right up into his balls and took in a deep breath, the shock passed momentarily though, and he found himself smirking down at the younger man.  

“Like a man’s scent then, do you?”  

He had been expecting Jordan to look sheepish when he pulled away, but, instead, he actually beamed at Flagg. “Need to get my money’s worth.”  

He definitely should have left it at that, he didn’t need to know. “Money’s worth?”  

“Bribed the night staff to give me twenty minutes alone with you, they might have thought I was planning on murder. One of them offered to help me hide the body, which I guess means you’ve been your same old cheery self.”  

“Twenty minutes?” Flagg grunted, pushing Jordan’s head back down to his crotch, “you’ve wasted half of that already. Fool.”  

By some miracle, Jordan actually shut up after that. He dropped his head back down so that he could run all over the colonel’s balls, almost seeming to lick up the sweat that had formed on them while he had been stuck in bed. Eventually, though the pilot appeared to decide that he might have needed somewhat more of a sense of urgency about this, and licking his way up the thick length in front of him. If he had slightly more time, he would have liked to ride it, but he supposed that it was his own fault that his conjugal visit had to be cut short.  

The colonel shifted uncomfortably as Hal began to take him into his mouth, the pilot having rested his hand on one of his burns accidentally, but found himself distracted from the pain when he felt the movement of the other man’s throat swallowing around him.  

A vibration told him that Hal was moaning as he sucked him, and a quick glance down proved that Jordan had pulled his own cock out of his jeans and was jerking himself in time with each bob of his head.  

That was it though, the visual proof of just how much the other man was enjoying sucking him off was almost enough by itself to bring him off, but a particularly hard suck pushed him over the edge. Flagg gripped the pilot’s head, forcing him further down, so that his lips were right up against his balls, and then his cum was spilling down Jordan’s throat.  

Hal took it well, better than he expected, well enough that Flagg wanted to have a stern talk with Ace Morgan about anything that might have gone down in ‘Rea. The man rubbed himself faster as Flagg came down his throat until he was spilling all over the sheets himself.  

Kissing him at that moment seemed like the right thing to do, his swollen lips really invited you in, and Flagg would have done so, had he not caught the sound of high heels clicking up the corridor.  

Chapter Text

Hal Jordan and Larry Trainor had been in the same class in the Air Force Academy. Worse than that, they had been roommates. Even ten years later Larry remembered all of the times that Hal had forgotten to study for an exam until the day before and had refused to turn his light off until he was done, and shuddered.  

There had been good moments, of course, they were still friends decades later, but the main one that came to mind had also involved Larry being kept up half the night.  

Larry’s eyes had shot open at about one in the morning, the room was dark, and Larry blinked his eyes a few times, trying to figure out what had woken him up, he was actually about to get up and search for intruders when the upper level of the bunk bed jolted again.  

“Hal?” He asked carefully, he wasn’t sure if his roommate was awake or if he was buried deep in a nightmare.  

A breathless gasp came from above, followed by a shaky “Y-yeah,” Hal’s voice was a lot more gravelly than usual, and it was immediately apparent what he had been doing. Larry half wanted to snap at him that if he wanted to jack off, he should do it in the bathroom.  

Instead what he said was: “You wanna come down here so that I can watch?”  

Hal was quiet for so long that Larry started to think that he was pretending that he hadn’t heard, and he was about to retract his statement when the sound of sheets rustling drifted down to him, immediately followed by Hal launching himself down onto Larry’s bunk and curling up into his side.  

After only a few moments, Hal shifted so that he could take his hard cock in his hand again, giving it a few slow strokes. Larry thought that it looked painful, bright red as it was, and leaking white streaks of cum all over his sheets.  

His own cock was beginning to stiffen in his pajama pants, but he pushed down any urge to masturbate himself, wanting to watch Hal get himself off first. If he saved that image to his spank bank, he would be able to jack off to it later.  

He wasn’t expecting Hal to turn towards him and ask if he was going to take care of his own erection. 

Larry shrugged, but with the way Hal bit his lip, as if he felt guilty about jacking off when Larry wasn’t getting any relief (not that that had been something he was worried about just a few moments before, mind you). He supposed that he could get his own cock out if it would make his roommate happy, so he tugged his pants down just enough that his crotch was bared and began to pull on himself until he was sufficiently hard.  

“Can I?” Hal asked, his fingers straying towards Larry’s dick. Larry gave a short, sharp nod and Hal’s digits wrapped around his cock uncertainly, carefully tugging on it.  

Hal didn’t seem as if he knew what he was doing even as he pulled Larry off, his hand shaking as it pumped up and down his shaft. Larry wondered if this was actually the other cadet’s first time, which was funny given how much of a tease he was when they hung out together.  

He had actually completely forgotten about taking care of himself, he was so absorbed in his work, and Larry shook his head fondly, brushing away the fingers that were clasped around Hal’s cock so that he could take over.  

“Watch what I do, and then copy it,” he breathed in Hal’s ear, Hal was hopeless, but if he was even slightly better at giving hand jobs after this Larry would consider it a job well done. He started off slowly, aiming to allow Hal to get used to the feel of his hand, and only started to speed up when Hal seemed to relax. He rubbed his thumb over the head of Hal’s cock (and gasped slightly when the other cadet followed his lead), fondled his balls, and lightly squeezed the shaft as he pumped it, all the while encouraging Hal to imitate him.  

It was a terrible idea, especially since one of the other cadets could notice, or worse, one of the instructors, but he lightly bit down on Hal’s neck, sucking his skin until a hickey formed. If everything went his way, they’d think that Hal had just been lucky with the ladies again.  

Suddenly, Hal gasped, arching his back and coming all over Larry’s hand, his grip tightening around the other cadet’s cock, even as he bucked up into his hand one last time.  

While Larry was still coming down from his orgasm, Hal slumped against him, burying his head in Larry’s shoulder. One testing poke proved that he was asleep.  

Larry didn’t even have the heart to push him out of bed, no matter how much he deserved it. 

Chapter Text

At some point, Alan must have gotten used to the sound of someone tapping on the windows of his office, he didn’t think he should have gotten used to it though and regularly told Hal that he needed to make an appointment with his receptionist first, but the man never listened.   

Groaning at the way that his back cracked when he stood up, Alan went over to the window to let the younger man in, he had already planned the first two paragraphs of the lecture that he was about to give Hal when he was interrupted.   

“You still here, Old Man?” Hal asked as he tossed his jacket over Alan’s chair. “I swear you’re going to work yourself to death one of these days.” His sarcasm just barely managed to mask his concern.   

“It’s not that late,” Alan retorted, carefully ignoring the way that the clock on his desk read 10 pm.   

“I went over to your house first, but the lights were off, and I thought, hey, I can just wait for him, it won’t be long before he gets back, and yet here we are, an entire hour later, and here you are, still at work.”   

Starting to get annoyed, Alan slammed his laptop shut. “Right, I’m done, no more work for me today. Also, you don’t have a key to my house, if you broke a window...”   

“I waited outside.” Hal rocked back on his heels, looking pleased with himself. “Jay said it was impossible to convince you to take a break but...” he trailed off and didn’t say anything else, he was apparently waiting for something.   

Alan fought the urge to roll his eyes when he realized what it was, he should have known. “Thank you, Hal,” he said, closing the distance between them so that he could breathe in the other Lantern’s ear, “you’re being very good.”   

Hal visibly shivered at that, and Alan couldn’t hold back his loving smile. Of course, if he had figured out how well Hal responded to praise when they first met, their early relationship would probably have been better. He continued his praise, mostly to see the response “I would like it very much if you continued to be good for me tonight.”   

The brunet swallowed but nodded, he was always such an obedient sub. Alan grinned, a rare expression for him, and this was possibly the first time Hal had ever seen it. “Now would you be a dear and take off your clothes for me.”   

Hal scrambled to follow his orders but tripped over his jeans as he tore them off. The only thing that kept him from slamming his head on the table was Alan wrapping his arm around his waist.   

“It’s sweet that you’re so eager, but I think that I might actually prefer your company tonight if you were conscious for it.”   

Hal snorted. “Never heard you say that before.”   

The blond refused to dignify that with a response but fondly pressed a kiss on Hal’s cheek as his let his hands roam all over the other man’s chest.   

Hal pressed himself back against Alan right when the older man took his cock in his right hand and began to stroke it slowly.   

“You’re doing so well,” he murmured in Hal’s ear. “So good for me.” To punctuate his last word, he pressed his thumb directly into the slit at the head of the younger Lantern’s cock, which unfortunately caused him to scream. Luckily for them (or possibly Alan specifically), at this time of night, the office was completely empty, and no one was able to check out the noise.   

Carefully, Alan bent Hal over his desk, asking him if he would kindly spread his legs for him, and Hal readily complied. Hal probably wasn’t expecting Alan to eschew everything else in  favor  of nibbling at the back of his neck, acting as if he had all the time in the world.   

“Alan, Christ, please!” Hal gasped, to which Alan responded with a light swat on the swell of his ass.   

“Good boys don’t demand.” He hissed in Hal’s ear. “Or take the Lord's name in vain.”   

“I’m Jewish,” Hal muttered petulantly.   

“Want to try that again?”   

Medra Aksi   Bashí ,” Alan was going to pretend that he didn’t know enough Spanish to guess what that meant, he wasn’t in the mood for punishment at that time. He just made a warning noise. Hal took the hint. “Sir, please, I just need to be fucked already.”   

There was really no reason to refuse Hal when he asked so nicely, and Alan soon shoved two slicked up fingers inside Hal’s ass, causing him to cry out again.   

The tips of his fingers quickly found the other Lantern’s prostate, and Alan teased him until he was a sobbing and begging mess, inches away from orgasm, before removing them just as quickly, leaving him with nothing.   

Hal started squirming backward in search of the attention that he needed to get off, and Alan couldn’t hold back the laugh that escaped him, making the pilot grumble.   

“I hate when you do this.”   

Alan waited until Hal was willing to beg for it, which was a surprisingly short wait, then he thrust his fingers back into him, pushing four fingers into Hal this time.   

He was relentless as he  finger  fucked his successor, keeping his fingers moving at a harsh pace, even as Hal was wailing and begging for more.   

Then, almost as soon as it had started, Hal was coming for him, spreading his legs for him, begging Alan to fuck him for real.   

“Well,” the blond said, leaning in for another kiss, “I suppose that you do deserve a reward.”  

Chapter Text

Etrigan  was, Hal thought, probably not that much smaller than  Kilowog , in fact, part of the reason that Hal had even decided to try this had been because he wanted to prove to himself that he was capable of taking something of that size.   

Of course,  Etrigan  was a lot rougher with him than  Kilowog  would have been. That was the main downside of fucking a demon unless his soul was forfeit, Hal had asked about that, but he hadn’t really been able to understand the answer through all of the rhyming.   

The thick yellow cock was rubbing in between his ass cheeks, and thick fingers gripped his thighs so hard that the demon’s claws had started to puncture his skin, every single movement made Hal want more, made him desperate for something inside him already.   

The demon growled low in his throat as he pressed the bulbous head of his cock against the human’s hole. Hal just hoped it wouldn’t knot like the time that he’d agreed to have sex with Hugh Dawkins. Except then  Etrigan  opened his mouth.   

“If you wish for us to breed,” the demon started, like the asshole he was, “you must open your mouth and start to plead.”   

Okay, that there was the second downside to sleeping with this particular demon.   

Hal groaned. “Look, I didn’t ask Blood for this, which was incredibly awkward by the way, because I didn’t want to get fucked. So, like, please, just slide right on in.”   

He should have known that wouldn’t be good enough. “This activity will have to pause,” came his response, “until you have given proper cause.”   

Jesus Fucking Christ, the rhyming was almost enough for him to call the whole thing off immediately.  

But the head continued to circle around his hole, teasingly, rubbing against it until he finally gave in. “Please, okay, please master, fuck me.”   

The huge cock began to push in, already stretching Hal impossibly wide even though barely a third of it was inside him. Unfortunately,  Etrigan  spoke again. “You do not need to call me master, it will not make me fuck you faster.”   

Hal would have gotten up and left in response to that, had the demon not slammed into him right then and robbed him of all coherent thought.   

It was bigger than he had expected and bigger than anything that he had ever taken, nothing could have prepared him for the feel of it, the ridges that covered the cock that rubbed his insides every time that the demon moved, the constant stretch and the way that his belly bulged when the demon cock was fully seated. It was an entirely new sensation and took over all of his senses.   

The only sounds that fell from his lips were wordless cries of pleasure, his ability to form words had been completely robbed of him by the constant abuse of his prostate, as the ridges rubbed against it. He swallowed down excess saliva, not wanting to drool over Jason Blood’s vintage bedsheets when one particularly hard thrust had him clenching down around the dick.   

The feel of cum gushing into him was what finally brought Hal to orgasm, after what felt like hours of being built up towards it, only for  Etrigan  to slow down again, Hal suspected that the edging had been a method of torture. It would make sense for the demon to be a sadist.   

The semen pumped into him, filling him up until his stomach was wholly distended, there was so much that it hadn’t even been able to remain inside Hal when the demon pulled out, vast rivers of semen poured out of him. He needn’t have worried about drooling on the bedsheets, because they had been utterly ruined anyway.   

Etrigan  had gone, but he had expected that Blood wouldn’t let him out for very long, and soon enough, Jason Blood appeared at his side, making sure that he was alright after such an intense experience.   

Hal nodded, giving him a weak grin. “I’m fine. Hey, so do you want to have a go?”   

Blood didn't answer him at first, dragging him towards the bathroom so that he could get cleaned up. “You don’t slow down for even a second, do you Jordan?”  

Chapter Text

J’onn  was reading in the breakroom, trying to ignore the chaos that was clearly emanating from Booster Gold and Blue Beetle a few doors down the hall. Sighing, he glanced over to the Lantern on the other side of the table.  J’onn  was about to make a comment when he saw that the other man had fallen asleep, face down, in a bowl of cereal.  J’onn  would leave him to it, but he strongly suspected that Hal Jordan was quite possibly the only person alive who would drown in milk.   

He reached across the table, giving the man’s shoulder a soft shake. “Harold, wake up.”   

Hal did wake up, but he also snorted milk out of his nose as he sat up with a start. “Wha-? Where am I?”   

J’onn  didn’t tend to react to awkward situations such as this one, and in any case, it was impolite to draw attention to people’s more embarrassing moments. “I was merely about to suggest that we retired to somewhere quieter.”   

He had no idea why the Lantern looked quite so enthused with that idea until they were alone together in his quarters.   

Hal turned to him as he started to remove his flight jacket, tossing it over the back of the armchair.  J'onn  realized with some regret that he was going to have to be the person to talk with Hal about respecting other people’s living space. He was completely taken off guard by Hal’s question. “Hey so, I  gotta  ask, there aren’t  gonna  be any big surprises are there? Because there was this one guy  whose  cum ended up feeling like acid and-”   

The alien couldn’t hold back his surprise, and his eyes widened slightly in response. “That was not why I invited you here.” His tongue felt heavy in his mouth.   

Hal looked surprisingly disappointed at his statement.   

J’onn  swallowed, this was a reminder of how difficult dealing with Hal was when he didn’t use telepathy, the man was not logical in the slightest, but in the same time, he would not read his teammates' minds casually. “However, I am not against the idea.” In fact, he had often wondered why he hadn’t been approached before, given the Lantern’s apparent propensity for sex.   

The reproductive organs of Green Martians were almost entirely different from those of humans, prior to arousal, there was a slit in about the same place as there was a penis on a human when aroused, this slit began to open up, allowing various tentacles to extend from it.   

The number of tentacles that the Martian had increased according to its age, and  J’onn , who was of an advanced age for his species, had five tentacles in total.   

They were long, longer than any human penis, but also far less thick. All the same  J’onn  was slow as he willed the first tentacle to push into the Lantern, the natural lubricant that formed on the tentacles allowed them to advance into Hal easily.   

The tentacle writhed around inside Jordan, trying to find the optimal position to release the Martian’s seed into him. The Lantern cried out, only for a second tentacle to extend upwards until it was brushing against his lips.   

Almost too eagerly, Hal opened his mouth to allow it inside. He should probably have been more unsure around alien genitalia. Jordan sucked on the tentacle, which produced more and more lubrication with each obscene slurping noise until the liquid spilled out from between his lips.   

For what must have been close to a minute, the two tentacles worked in tandem, one pushing into the brunet’s ass at the same time that the other shoved itself down his throat, when  J’onn  thought that the other man had had long enough to get acquainted with the feeling the third tentacle made its move.   

It pushed in, stretching Hal almost beyond his limits, he gasped and squirmed on the tentacles until  J’onn  gave his stomach a few soothing pats. The two tentacles in Hal’s ass rubbed together, each pumping precum deep into the Lantern. When the fourth tentacle pushed itself into Hal’s ass, squirming up alongside the other two, he came all over himself within seconds.   

J’onn  didn’t pull out yet though, and he still wasn’t anywhere close to his first orgasm of the night. It was a shame to be with a partner who couldn’t shapeshift to take all of his appendages, so he was forced to rub his fifth tentacle between the pilot’s thighs, fucking it between them as he coaxed the Lantern back to hardness.   

“I should warn you that Martians can last up to seven hours in bed,” he commented, running his thumb over Hal’s lower lip. “I want you to inform me if this becomes too much for you.”   

Hal looked dazed but nodded at him eagerly.  

Chapter Text

Trying to get into Atlantis was a struggle and a half even when Arthur was in charge. The man was grumpy at the best of times and often wanted to avoid talking to Hal if it was possible. So, it wasn’t like Hal would necessarily notice that something was up when he found himself clapped in irons and dragged off to a cell, in fact, he had been planning on asking Arthur if this was some kind of new sex game, presumably about five seconds before he got stabbed.  

In fact, it had only been once he was in the cell, and found himself face to face with Arthur’s brother that he realized that there was more to the situation than  Aquaman  being upset with him.  

The man was gazing down at him impassively, although Hal somewhat hoped that it was just that the size of his mask just hid his emotions. He would have more of a chance convincing the Atlantean to let him go if that was the case. Finally, after some time, Orm spoke: “Did you come here to rescue my brother?”  

Hal actually had not, he had assumed that Arthur would not have lost control of his kingdom since he had last seen him, and he’d wanted to go poke the bear (or whatever the sea equivalent of a bear was) until it snapped (and decided to fuck him). He had already figured out that Arthur wasn’t being kept in the cells though.  

“Where is he, anyway?” Hal said, trying to keep his anger from bubbling into his voice, he was somewhat surprised by the level of anger, given that he hadn’t been particularly close to Arthur, especially not in comparison to other members of the Justice League.  

It was strange to be able to talk underwater, but like with everything, it was because of the ring.  

The Atlantean crossed his arms and sniffed. “These are hardly suitable living quarters for a former king, even one such as my brother. You will not be seeing him.”  

That didn’t exactly help Hal, who had been planning on finding out where his friend was, busting his way out of this cell and escaping to the surface world with Arthur the moment that Orm’s back was turned. His ring glowed as the Atlantean spoke, responding to his annoyance.  

Orm’s eyes flashed towards his ring immediately, and he narrowed them, he must have been talking to some of the surface villains while he was in prison, there was no other way for him to know what the ring could do. “Of course, the simplest way to deal with you is just to remove this ring.”  

It was, perhaps, the only thing Hal could do when he was hit so suddenly with the threat of drowning, alone in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. He knew that he needed to make Orm think that either it wasn’t worth killing him or that he would be of some use, and he needed to do it soon.  

The Atlantean’s eyes had widened in surprise when Hal started to flirt with him, but it had only been a few minutes before he had the Lantern lying prone over the uncomfortable metal table in the corner of the cell.  

Hal didn’t know what he had expected to see when Orm pulled down his scale mail trousers, but it certainly hadn’t been confirmation of all the theories that he had had about Arthur before he had slept with the man. There they were, though, standing proudly up against Orm’s torso, a pair of twin penises, with soft pink scales covering the top half. They were thick too, and Hal would have wondered how he would take both of them if he hadn’t slept with a particular demon, but Orm turned to shout something into the darkness in Atlantean.  

Hal’s uniform had always torn more easily than other Lanterns’, especially considering that it was made of energy, and his co-workers often got annoyed when they saw that he was returning from yet another battle with one of his pecs out there for all to see. But that quality was proving itself useful now that he was being pinned by Orm, and the Atlantean had a large hole torn from his crotch and ass by the time the servant returned with a jug.  

Underwater sex was rough, more so when you had the underwater sex in salt water, where even the smallest abrasion could feel like someone had shoved a red-hot poker up your ass, so lube was a must, even if it felt like Orm wanted to be over that part as quickly as possible.  

When the Atlantean pushed in, it was with only one of his twin cocks at first, whether it was because he didn’t want to tear the human open, or if he couldn’t be bothered to spend the time to make sliding both in at once smooth, Hal couldn’t tell. He did know that he was making a bad decision when he smirked up at the Atlantean and said: “You know you don’t  gotta  be careful with me, I’ve taken way bigger.”  

“I can feel that,” Orm sniped back at him, which meant that Hal was annoying him. Good. “I am only warning you of this because I know you have been with my brother, but jesting about your relations with others is liable to get you your throat torn out when an Atlantean is in rut.”  

He didn’t waste any time pushing his second cock into Hal after that, and the feeling of the stretch was immense. The Lantern let out a cry as the scaled head of one of the cocks slammed into his prostate. His cock was rock hard as the Atlantean rocked back and forth, rather conspicuously avoiding touching Hal.  

Yeah, Orm was definitely the type to hate all humans, and even though it seemed that he was perfectly willing to take an ass which had been offered up to him, he wasn’t willing to show any sign of tenderness. If Hal had to guess, it had probably just been a while for him.  

Hal must have been more fucked up than even he had thought because God  did  he find that thought hot. In fact, it was such a turn on that he found himself reaching down to jack himself off.  

Moments later, Orm was pulsing inside him, and Hal felt something viscous spurting into him, much thicker than human semen. He would have asked whether that was to keep it together underwater, but Orm was still coming, and he just kept going. Soon, his seed had filled Hal up to the point that the Lantern’s stomach was decidedly rounder than it had been when they had started.  

If only Hal hadn’t taken that moment to turn his head to the side if only Arthur hadn’t been standing there when he looked, if only the man hadn’t looked pissed off when he mouthed: “Why are you fucking my brother?”  

Hal was definitely going to get chewed out by the League.  

Chapter Text

Lex’s schedule had him in Coast City for a meeting with the owners of Ferris Air. Nothing more, nothing less. He had been planning on buying the company for a while, and today was meant to secure the deal. Mercy had suggested to him that he should have the meeting through video conference, but experience told him that the best way to ingratiate yourself with people was to meet them in person, he also needed to see how much work he had cut out for him.   

When he finally stepped out of the sleek black car that had been waiting for him at the airport, and into the scalding hot heat of the Californian desert, he rolled his shoulders back, trying to alleviate the ache in his spine. That was the first time that he noticed the pilot staring at him, he was standing off in the distance, at least fifty meters away, too far away to make out his face, but Lex rose his hand in greeting anyway.   

People taking an interest in him wasn’t anything new. Lex was something of a celebrity.   

He didn’t get a response, but no matter. There were far more important people to be greeting today anyway, and he turned his head in the direction of the brunette who was currently making her way across the parking lot towards him. He put on the same smarmy smile that he used for diplomats and politicians, holding his hand out for her to shake.   

“Mister Luthor,” the woman took his hand, and he brought her fingers up to his lips, she laughed, but there was no mistaking the coldness in her eyes. It was one that told him that she would be a difficult customer, perhaps because they had met before.   

Loud footsteps came up behind them, they were coming from the direction of the runway, whoever it was  was  running at top speed, and Lex didn’t have to turn his head to be able to tell that it was the pilot.   


The pilot insisted on being a thorn in Lex’s side for the next several hours, the only time that there was a single moment without him present was when all of the pilots at Ferris had a flight, scheduled for Lex to watch, which showed off all of the planes the company was presently testing. Even then, Carol had to push the man into his aircraft.   

“Mercy,” Lex said, while Miss Ferris was gone, and his bodyguard was at his side in an instant, would you be so kind as to find me some employee files, I want to do some research on our new friend.”   

“Should I take care of him?” She asked impassively as if they were discussing the weather.   

Luthor shook his head, he had a few suspicions, and he wasn’t about to have a member of the Justice League killed. While he was confident that the reaction of the League to Green Lantern being killed would be much the same as the one of the Crime Syndicate to Power Ring’s death (that being: not caring in the slightest and waiting for the ring to attach itself to its next host) he was not willing to risk it. “Not quite yet. We’ll see how things go.”   

Almost as soon as he had opened the file, Lex’s suspicions had been confirmed. He knew exactly why the pilot, Jordan, Green Lantern, was taking such an interest in him. Probably, it was Superman who had told the man that he needed to keep an eye on Lex because he thought that Ferris Air would be used to test new weapons. Superman would be wrong, it was merely good business, but Lex found himself annoyed anyway. No one who had been born in Coast City should have been taking Superman’s side over anything. Superman was the reason that the city had been blown up in the first place.   

“Clear my schedule for this evening,” he said, shutting the file. “I want to pay Mister Jordan a visit.”   


Jordan’s armchair wasn’t particularly comfortable, it was hard, and it was lumpy, and Lex was reasonably sure that he could feel something moving underneath the fabric, but it was also the only furniture going, so Lex sat in it anyway, crossing one of his legs over the other. Jordan was late, by several hours, and he was just thinking of sending Mercy round to all of the bars in the city to pick the pilot up when the door swung open.   

“What are you doing here?” Jordan blurted out, his eyes widening at the sight of Lex Luthor in his apartment, he sounded affronted, and Lex had to work to keep himself from smirking.   

“You did seem desperate to speak with me earlier,” he said innocently, “I assumed that you wanted some more privacy.”   

“No!” Jordan cried, but seemed to have forgotten the ring on his finger, which could easily remove Lex from his residence. “I would never. You want to murder my friend.”   

“Would Superman believe that?” Lex said, examining his fingernails. “If he heard that I had been here, would he have any reason to believe that you wouldn’t sleep with me? Have you ever not had sex with someone who asked?”   

Jordan let out a juddering breath, and his hands were clenched so tightly that his nails must have been drawing blood.   

“I have reason to believe that you even sleep with so-called villains.  Bito  says-”   

“Sonar says a lot of things!” Jordan bellowed but seemed to realize that being so loud would not help him convince Superman that nothing was happening. His voice was quieter when he spoke again. “What do you want?”   

The Lantern sounded so tired that Luthor wondered just what he would agree to at that moment. “I didn’t come here for no reason,” he informed the man, putting a lot of meaning into those words, “and suddenly I find myself wanting to make you say I’m better than Superman.”   

Jordan let out a bark of a laugh. “So, if I don’t have sex with you, you’ll tell Big Blue that I had sex with you.”   

“You don’t need to say it so crassly.”   

Luthor ran his thumb over Jordan’s lips and was amazed when the man dropped down to his knees as if on instinct. “Plus, I might be curious as to why  Sinestro  is so obsessed with you,” Lex commented mildly, pushing down his pants as he spoke.   

Hal was about to make a comment about not wanting to disappoint, but he had never had sex with  Sinestro , when he found Luthor’s cock being shoved into his mouth, effectively shutting him up.   

Hal swallowed around it, he tested the taste of it with his tongue, and as Luthor pushed further into his mouth, he took a deep breath with his nose, leading to him getting a long whiff of the villain’s crotch.   

In a desperate attempt to stop himself choking, Hal allowed his jaw to go slack, hoping that if he made it as easy as possible to move in his mouth, the cock wouldn’t stay down his throat for too long. The plan was for the best really, given that was when Luthor really began to move, he swung his hips back and forth, with the head of his cock slamming into the back of the Lantern’s throat with every thrust.   

Hal tried to keep himself from gagging, but he failed and unfortunately, having someone choking on his cock only seemed to turn Luthor on more, he was something of a sadist. He just kept moving, even as Hal’s throat spasmed around him, and at some point, when his fingers found the back of the Lantern’s head, he gripped the hair hard and began moving the man on his cock.   

One particularly hard thrust had the villain spilling down his throat, and Hal pulled off, tears in his eyes. He didn’t know if it was over, but it probably wasn’t. Luthor wanted him to say he was better than Superman.  

Chapter Text

Guy was moving  slowly,  Guy always moved a little slowly. During sex that was. It was strange given how he tended to act most of the time, but every time he got Hal alone, he took his time, as if he was  savoring  it.   

“Beautiful,” Guy murmured, cupping the globes of Hal’s ass. Hal got the distinct feeling that Guy was referring only to his ass, rather than to him in his entirety. But that was fine, they had issues. Hal could deal with  Guy’s  ass obsession if it made their relationship even slightly better.   

Things were silent for a moment, long enough for Hal to decide to crane his neck to see what was going on, because the other man had just been playing with his ass with absolutely no commentary. He was surprised when he suddenly felt Guy mouthing across his ass cheeks.   

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do this,” Guy groaned, “you’ve been waving this in my face for  years.”    

That wasn’t strictly true, or in any way fair, Guy might have just done whatever he wanted with his uniform, but the fact was that a skin-tight outfit that showed off your ass was the official uniform of the Green Lantern Corps. Plus, Hal had never been showing off for Guy in particular, he just happened to fly like that.   

He informed Guy of that fact, but the other Lantern only smirked at him. “But you aren’t  gonna  stop me showing my appreciation, are you?” He asked.   

“Oh, well, if you’re showing your appreciation that’s different, isn’t it? By all means, carry on.”   

Guy snorted, turning around on the bed and rummaging around for something, Hal tried to ask what he was doing, but then he could hear the other Lantern rubbing oil all over his hands.   

The oil was warm by the time that Guy finally touched him again, rubbing circles into the flesh of his ass. If Hal was honest, it felt weird more than anything, it wasn’t like a back massage, which actually did something to the muscles, it was mostly just his ass being squeezed and played with.   

Guy, for his part, was greatly enjoying himself, he would squeeze Hal’s ass, dig his fingers into the globes, and watch it settle back into place, with only the pink fingerprints that he left indicating that anything had happened. Guy found that he enjoyed leaving his mark on Hal. He thought about spanking him, and only the thought that John probably had dibs on spanking Hal stopped him.   

The only way to make Hal Jordan follow orders was to spank him.   

(That actually wasn’t true. He liked being spanked. There was always a threat he would be purposefully annoying in order to be punished.)   

It was only when Guy pulled one of the globes aside with his thumb that he realized just how beautiful Hal was, and just how unaware of that fact he was. Hal’s hole was gaping, and as Guy watched a rivulet of semen dribbled out of him.   

“I thought I was  gonna  be the only one who fucked you today,” Guy commented, not actually all that upset. He had it cleaned away with one swipe of his thumb.   

“Arthur was insistent. He wanted me to keep his cock warm.”   

But Guy only snorted in response. “Arthur lives in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. He has to be used to his junk being cold. Just say that you’re a slut.”   

“I’m not  gonna ...”   

“Say ‘I’m sorry I’m such a massive slut, Guy.’”   

Hal sighed. “I’m sorry I’m such a massive slut.”   

As a reward, Guy kissed him. But not on his lips. Instead, he peppered his kisses directly over Hal’s hole. The brunet gasped in response, but Guy didn’t let up. Instead, he slipped his tongue into Hal’s already well-opened hole.   

Hal took in a sharp breath, one which Guy hardly noticed, he was already far too engaged in tongue fucking Hal until he screamed, and began grinding back on the other Lantern’s tongue.   

Guy grunted, realizing that he could still taste Arthur inside the other man, and he responded by pulling away from Hal. “How many times did he make you cum?” Guy  demanded,  he was nothing if not competitive.   

“The cock warmer doesn’t need to cum.” Hal sounded confused, and for some reason, that really pissed Guy off.   

“So, I just gotta make you cum once, and then go punch the bastard? I can work with that.”  

Chapter Text

Hal woke up strapped to a metal table, in what looked like the dungeon of a castle, it was damp and grey, and some kind of moss was growing on the walls. He had been carefully positioned so that his ass was jutting up into the air, and honestly, given where he so clearly was, that could only be a problem. He tried to form a construct, something that would help him snap his leather bonds, but his ring wasn’t on his finger anymore. Someone had taken it while he was unconscious.  

“Looking for this, my old enemy?” The man’s accent was Eastern European, and he had a heavy one at that, Hal sighed, he didn’t particularly want to deal with Sonar’s shit today.  

Which brought him to how he had ended up here, Sonar, as happened every year, had been furious that Modora had been snubbed at Eurovision, while the United Kingdom got to compete every year, despite the terrible quality of their songs. Hal didn’t necessarily disagree with his complaints, but the fact remained that kidnapping the British contestant and going on stage in his place was objectively wrong.  

Even if you did end up winning somehow. Hal had to admit that it was a good song.  

But the Justice League didn’t keep him on for him to not go arrest his villains when they committed crimes, so he’d dragged Wladon back to Modora, and somehow ended up here.  

“You!” Hal snapped, glaring back at the man. “What are you planning?”  

If Hal was honest, he had some idea of what Sonar was planning, he was the ‘bow down to your master’ type, a lot of Hal’s villains were the bow down to your master type. It was, in a sense, the essence of their arrangement when they weren’t fighting.  

“I would rather keep my plans a secret for the moment if you don’t mind,” Sonar said shortly, even as he ran a gloved hand over the curve of Hal’s ass, he apparently didn’t realize just how obvious that made his plans.  

It wasn’t exactly a surprise when the villain grabbed the fabric of Hal’s costume and tugged on it, hard, tearing a large hole in the material. The hole must have run right from the Lantern’s lower back, right down to the middle of his thighs. He was lucky that his costume regenerated every time he charged his ring.  

“Wait here,” Sonar told him, Hal could hear the smirk in his voice, the one that said he wasn’t going anywhere.  

There was silence for a few minutes, and when Sonar returned, he had his sonigun with him. Hal hoped that didn’t mean he was planning on killing him. The villain was humming a little tune as he approached Hal again. “I’ve had an idea running through my head for a while, and I think you might be just the man to help me with it.”  

“And what exactly would that idea be?” Hal asked, by then he was ready to get fucked, and he felt like he would be disappointed if Sonar just dropped a lit stick of dynamite next to him and left him there again. That hadn’t even fit in with the sound theme.  

The gloved hand returned to his hole, one of the fingers pushing into him and Hal wondered if the villain would burn that glove when they were done. He might keep it on his pillow. The older man hummed again as he pushed a second finger into the Lantern and carefully scissored them a few times. Then, too soon and almost as soon as it had started, the fingers were gone.  

Cold metal replaced them, to be specific, twin rods of metal began pushing into him. There was only one thing that those could belong to.  

“Are you fucking me with your tuning fork gun?” Hal demanded.  

“Do not call it a tuning fork gun!” Sonar bit back, he punctuated each word by pushing the sonigun further into Hal, until the thicker part of the weapon was fully seated inside of him.  

Slowly, almost painfully slowly, the gun was pulled out of him, then roughly shoved back in. Hal’s cock was hardening beneath him, it was rubbed against the cold metal table as he squirmed, and soon it started to leak.  

That was when Sonar pulled the trigger.  

Hal thrashed, struggling against his bonds as the weapon that was jammed right up against his prostate, started vibrating right inside him. It was intense, possibly too intense, because it wasn’t a vibrator that had been designed for sex, it was a weapon that had been designed to kill Hal, and even though it had clearly been reworked and wasn’t anywhere near its highest setting in the first place, Hal was still struggling not to scream.  

Somewhere behind him, he could hear the sound of a dial being turned upwards but wasn’t able to connect that sound with how the weapon sounded when Sonar increased the intensity on the battlefield. At least not until it was too late.  

He wailed, unable to control himself as his vision whited out. He came, ropes of white flying out to cover the table, but the villain didn’t stop. If anything, it felt like he was increasing the speed of the vibrations again. They seemed so much harder after his first orgasm.  

Maybe he should have been ashamed when he started hardening again, it really said something about his sex drive, but his partner didn’t seem to mind.  

“Yes,” Sonar breathed, squeezing one of his ass cheeks, “I think I am going to keep you.” 

Chapter Text

As was happening astonishingly frequently lately, Hal had ended up being tied up, with an enormous alien circling him. His arms were chained behind his back tightly enough to hurt, and his legs had been chained to the floor. He couldn’t move from his position: spine bent backward so that his crotch and his torso were on display.  

All in all, this could have been a normal, if enjoyable Saturday night for Hal, if not for one problem: the chains that held him in place were red.  

Atrocitus sat before him, lounging on a crimson throne, but he didn’t seem to be paying that much attention to Hal at that particular moment. Instead, he was barking orders at some Red Lanterns who were milling around, something about an attack on Korugar. Hal shifted slightly in discomfort.  

The alien’s eyes flicked over to him, and a broad smile spread across his face. Hal felt distinctly like a baby bird that had been cornered by a cat. “Is this the limit for one of the Guardian’s dogs?” Atrocitus seemed amused, which was strange, Hal had thought his emotional range started and ended at pissed off. 

Hal snarled in response to that question. “Shut up.” He said, then, thinking that might have been a particularly weak rejoinder, he tried again: “Your Lanterns might give up this easily, but I don’t even know the meaning of the word.”  

A spark of rage flashed in Atrocitus’ eyes, so situation normal there, and the chains around Hal’s limbs tightened.  

“I can wait,” the alien growled. With a movement from only two fingers, he indicated for one of the Lanterns that were milling around his throne to take care of Hal.  

One stepped forward, holding a jar of something in his claws. He forced Hal’s lips open without much care and began to pour the contents into his mouth.  

It was wine, a kind of sweet and fruity wine from some far-off sector. Hal’s stomach gurgled, and knowing that he couldn’t take any more, Hal tried to pull away. With a grunt of annoyance, the Red Lantern grabbed the back of his neck, keeping him in place.  

Atrocitus had kept him chained there for hours, and periodically, multiple times an hour actually, he would have one of his Lanterns pour some kind on liquid into Hal’s mouth. He had choked on it the first few times, tried to throw it up the next few, but it had only ever been wine. It had been a while before he realized the real plan.  

It had been at least three hours since Hal had first felt the tingling sensation that meant that he was going to need to piss soon. Now his stomach was hurting, and he imagined that his bladder must have swelled to twice its usual size.  

The only thing that kept him from pissing himself was his willpower. Beads of sweat were forming on his brow as the liquid slid down his throat. He winced when he imagined it settling in his bladder.  

To his horror, he felt the first dribble of urine escape him a few moments later. The uniform construct began to fizzle at his crotch, flickering in and out of existence. He swallowed, it didn’t make sense, he wasn’t a rookie, he shouldn’t have been affected by yellow, but it was happening. The last several hours must have really frayed his willpower.  

That was Atrocitus’ plan. To make him piss in his costume. If he was weak enough for the yellow weakness to hurt him, then the suit (and the forcefield it provided) would completely dissolve, and then he could kill Hal. It was the kind of plan that Sinestro would come up with.  

But maybe he hadn’t noticed. Hal allowed his eyes to flick back to Atrocitus.  

Fuck. He was staring over intently.  

Hal glared at him, he would have flipped the alien off if his arms were free. It wouldn’t translate, but it would be cathartic.  

“Still not giving in?” Atrocitus ran his tongue over his long, sharp teeth. “I can wait.”  

“You’ll be waiting for a long time though, ten hours without checking in... my partner will come looking for me soon.”  

That was definitely not the right thing to say. Atrocitus stood and came over to him. He rested one foot on top of Hal’s body, right on top of his bladder as it turned out. “If he comes,” the alien growled, an almost evil look was in his eyes as he started to apply pressure, “what will he see?”  

Hal’s eyes widened as he realized what he was up to. No amount of willpower could stop what happened next; his bladder started to compress. The force squished his bladder down, and at that point, there was really nowhere else for the liquid to go but out. Urine practically exploded out of his cock, spreading in a puddle under his uniform. There was so much of it, pooling in his costume and spreading up to his torso. Hal gave a whimper when he realized that he wasn’t even halfway done.  

When his uniform began to sputter, fading out of existence, Hal didn’t even notice. He hadn’t even realized that pissing could feel so good, the feeling of relief was immense. He gave a low moan of pleasure at the feeling of warmth spreading over his jeans and his white t-shirt.  

He wasn’t even fully conscious of the sharp blade that Atrocitus formed with his ring, even as it was swung down towards his neck.  

A green bubble formed around him, stopping the blade at the last minute, and John pulled him away. He flew both of them up into the outer atmosphere. “I’m starting to think that you seek out situations like this,” he grunted, keeping his eyes carefully pointed away from Hal.  

He probably wouldn’t appreciate Hal pointing out that he was hard. 

Chapter Text

Hal was almost shocked when he woke up to the sound of his phone buzzing one morning and saw that the person texting him was Bruce. The other man hadn’t phoned him in months, and Hal was sure that Simon and Jessica being available had finally convinced Bruce to remove him from his life. He was somewhat less shocked when it turned out that the text read: ‘meet me in the cave at ten pm.’   

So that meant that either Bruce wanted Hal’s help with a case (which the Lantern dismissed out of hand because that idea required either A: Bruce respecting him, or B: him actually listening when Hal described the people he fought as dangerous. Both of those options were clearly impossible), or he wanted to take out losing Selina on Hal’s ass.   

The question was, did Hal really mind?   

But no, he decided, he didn’t, and this would be a better way for Bruce to deal with whatever was going on with him than going out and fighting every monster in Gotham in one night.   

But by the time Hal actually got through the cave’s  defenses , Bruce was nowhere to be seen. Hal checked his watch, it was ten exactly, something was up.   

“He’s on patrol,” a voice said from behind him.   

Hal whirled around, expecting Alfred, or maybe Damian, only to see  Bruce’s  second son standing there, watching him. Hold on, was Jason Todd even allowed in the Batcave?   

“But Bruce- He would have-”   

“Would have called to let you know the booty call was off?” Hal winced at it being described as plainly as that because that was what it was, wasn’t it? A booty  call . That was when he noticed Jason reaching into the pocket of his leather jacket and pulling out a black object. It was Bruce’s phone. “Yeah, he probably would have, if I hadn’t been the one who texted you.”   

Hal bristled. “If this is going to be some kind of shovel talk-” he started.   

But Red Hood was already cutting him off. “Nah, listen, Bruce can get with whoever he wants, and that’s fine by me. At least as long as I don’t have to hear anything about it. My issue is... why didn’t you ask me if I wanted a go?”   


Not wanting Roy to have to deal with Hal having sex with one of his best friends was the first reason that came to mind at that moment, but the truth was, Hal actually just hadn’t thought about it. “I’m really not having sex with that many people.”   

Hood hummed like he didn’t believe him. “This, of course, being why you’ve fucked your tuning fork villain twice.”   

“He went to my funeral,” Hal bit back, not really sure why he felt the need to defend himself, “if I’m fucking Bruce it’s not like I’m going to say no to someone who was actually sad I died.”   

As soon as Todd grinned at that Hal knew that he’d said exactly the wrong thing. “You know what. You’re right. He is a dick. You up for some revenge sex in his precious cave?”   

So that was how they ended up in the  Batbed , the bed that Bruce used whenever he was too tired to reach his bed upstairs (incidentally, he almost certainly did not refer to it as the  Batbed ). Hal was lying ass up on the bed, and when asked, Jason only said that it was so that he could get a better view.   

“Now you definitely haven’t been fucked this week, old man,” Jason was saying, sliding one finger into the Lantern, “I expected you to be  way  looser than this.”   

Okay, that was a bit rude. “I had a mission,” Hal bit back before he realized that saying that was pretty much the same as admitting that he would have had sex if he hadn’t had a mission.   

“Hmm,” Jason smirked back at him, even as he slipped a second finger into Hal’s ass. “Well, I’m not such a big fan of sloppy seconds, but maybe Bruce is, we should ask him.” It was only when he heard the shutter click that Hal realized that Jason had taken a picture of him. Using Bruce’s phone.   

“Jay-” He started, but the younger man was already pushing into him, and as the head of Red Hood’s cock slipped past his rim, Hal figured that he could always ask him to delete the pictures later.   

Then he was full, Jason’s thick cock had stretched out his hole, forcing it to accommodate for him. Hal shifted, trying to get used to it, or possibly ask if Jason had had some kind of implant, but Jason must have taken it as a silent request to fuck into him sooner. He started to fuck into Hal, harder and faster than he had thought possible by someone who was only human.   

It felt like Jason came far too soon, although Hal knew that if they took too long, Bruce would return from patrol, and he didn’t like to think about what Bruce’s response to this might be, and Hal had come all over Bruce’s pristine sheets several minutes before. Hal felt Jason’s cock pulse and a spurt of something warm and wet settled deep inside him, then it pulsed again, and again, and again, until Hal felt like he might be completely filled with cum. He was going to ask Roy if Jason was a meta, he had to be a meta.   

Suddenly, the cock was gone. Hal felt a dribble of cum slip out of him, which soon became a torrent of cum. He groaned low in his throat, looking for a tissue to clean himself up with. That was when Hal heard the phone’s camera again.   

Jason lowered the screen down in front of his face, showing a perfect photo of Hal’s ass, gaping slightly and dripping with semen. “I’m  gonna  hide this somewhere in the house,” the former Robin said conversationally, “You’re  gonna  have to find it before B does, because I really do want to see his face when he realizes I’ve fucked his West Coast Booty Call.”   

Chapter Text

Bruce would never usually allow him to do this, assist him in catching one of his villains that was, Hal was banned from operating in Gotham. But today seemed to be an exception, both Batman and Robin had been severely injured in a fight the night before, and both had been placed under house arrest until they had recovered. This wasn't exactly anything new, and it had probably happened hundreds of times over the course of Bruce's career, what was new was that Clark'd had too much on his plate to be able to cover the city that night. Hal had been the one the job had fallen to, despite the fact that everyone knew Bruce didn't trust him and would probably never fully trust him, and had given him a long and boring lecture before Hal had even started his patrol.  

Of course, Hal thought, as a gloved hand gripped him by his throat and squeezed, Bruce would probably take his performance tonight as evidence that he really couldn't be trusted.  

Hal wasn't quite sure how much time had passed between the moment he lost consciousness and when he woke up, in a room with a pool in it (if you could call it a room), but he was immediately aware of a feeling of tightness around his cock. The bastard had put him in a cockring.  

The second thing that he noticed was that he was naked, maybe other people would have seen that little fact before, but Harold Jordan had woken up naked after losing a fight more times than he could count.  

That was when he saw his ring, just lying there on a stone table in front of him, if he could just get to it before anyone noticed that he was awake, then he could slip it onto his finger and fly away.  

A blade was pressed up against his throat the second that he moved. Someone had been sneaking up behind him.  

"Are you trying to escape?" A low voice whispered in his ear. "I can't allow that. I need you here so that I can lure in the Bat."  

Hal hissed as the knife cut into his flesh, and cut deeply at that, the man dragged a long line across his throat. As blood began to pour out, he was sure of one thing. He was going to die here.  

But the man, and Hal wasn't quite sure if this was the leader of the League of Assassin's or just an underling, held something in his off-hand. A vial of liquid. Slowly, he uncapped it and poured it over the cut, almost instantly, the torn flesh began to knit itself back together.  

"Do you think that he would come if he knew that a member of his beloved League was in my clutches?"  al  Ghul , Hal was  gonna  just assume that it was  al  Ghul , asked, running the blade down Hal's arms.  

"Nope," Hal replied, popping the p, then, because Bruce deserved it, he added, "if he wasn't out of town, he'd break out the popcorn for this."  

The man chuckled like he didn't believe him; he had a harsh, cruel laugh. "You should hope that he does come because otherwise, I get to keep you. I could use you as target practice for my assassins, or I could torture you. I'm sure a founding member of the Justice League has so many interesting secrets to tell me.  

The knife ran over his skin once more, this time it was dragged down his chest, leaving a line of red in its wake. It looked like nothing so much as an autopsy scar.  

His cock, apparently, did not get the memo that what was being done to him was sick, and began to take notice, thickening as the knife dragged ever closer to it. Hal willed it to stop getting hard, but his willpower, enough to get him into the Green Lantern Corps and wield the most powerful weapon in the universe, was no match for his libido.  

"Interesting." The man laughed again, and it made Hal want to punch him in the throat, which was probably a terrible plan because without his ring he was only an average guy with a few years experience in boxing. There was no way he could beat one of the most dangerous assassins in the world without getting his neck broken. "It seems that you enjoy this."  

Hal blamed Sinestro. It was probably his weird punishments that he used every time Hal stepped out of line that made him respond like this. It couldn't possibly just be that he was kinky, and had a thing for guys that could make him submit.  

When the knife started running across his thigh, Hal swallowed, he might have been able to overcome great fear, but that didn't mean that he couldn't be highly aware of where his femoral artery was, and just how easily a man with a knife could cut through it. The blade drew ever closer to the blood vessel, and the Lantern was so focused on that that  al  Ghul  grabbing his cock was a complete surprise, even more so when he started moving his hand. In a few seconds, the  cockring  had been deftly removed, and the hand was rubbing against his shaft.  

More slices danced across his flesh as the man roughly jerked him off, and pain and pleasure had long since begun lancing together, Hal wasn't sure that he could really tell the difference between the two anymore. One look downwards showed him that the hand on his cock was wet and sticky, stained red by the blood flowing from the wound on his chest. The blood mixed together with the precum leaking from his dick.  

The next cut, though, cut too deep, and blood began flowing from the wound freely. Hal shuddered as cum shot out from his cock. He slumped backward, but the support wasn't there. He was already being tilted forward, into the pool.  

Chapter Text

Two men entered the medbay of the Hall of Justice in a blur of red and green, having just escaped a long battle. Hal was being carried, which would typically have been an insult to his pride, but he found himself surprisingly unbothered by after just having been knocked out of the air by a marauding monster. Although, the fact that the man who caught him, saving him from crashing painfully into the ground had been Jay might have had something to do with it.  

Jay Garrick had always been something of a father figure, although he was definitely more of a father figure to Barry than he had ever been to Hal. He was also the first member of the superhero community that Hal had ever met, and had offered the Lantern some friendly advice when Hal had still been sixteen. Weirdly enough, that had been a future version of Jay traveling to the past, but Hal didn't really understand time travel and preferred not to think about it.  

The speedster lowered Hal onto the bed, all the while being careful not to hurt him, and Hal let his construct dissolve. He figured that it would be easier for the older man to examine him if his clothes weren't in the way.  

Jay sighed as he examined all of the cuts and bruises that covered Hal's body, already going into concerned mentor mode. Some of the wounds were fresh, but some of them were already scabbing over and served as reminders of hard-fought battles earlier in the week. Carefully, the older man ran his fingers over all of Hal's bones, testing to see whether they were broken. He seemed relieved when he discovered that they weren't.  

"You don't need stitches either," he said, running his thumb over an old scar that ran across Hal's lower torso. Hal swallowed at the intimacy of that one small touch and willed his body not to respond to the intensity of Jay's gaze.  

Yeah, that was never going to happen, Hal's body was already reacting. He just needed to find a way to make sure that Jay didn't notice. He swallowed, about to tell the other man that he was fine and could make his own way home, but Jay's eyes immediately snapped down to his throat.  

Hal knew that he was probably about to make the worst decision of his life, but decided that he had to take a risk.  

"Oh, wait, doctor," Hal said, breathily, he was enjoying the way that Jay swallowed in response. "There might be something else wrong with me."  


The entire time he played along, Jay could practically feel Alan glaring at him, which was stupid because the man wasn't there.  

'What do you think you're doing?' Came in Alan's voice, he was angry, which seemed unfair, because Jay knew that he was regularly sleeping with Hal.  

Jay ignored it. It was stupid to argue with what was essentially yourself. He took up the most doctorly position that he could manage and asked in a stern voice. "Where does it hurt?"  

Hal knew what he was doing when he gasped and spread his legs slightly. "It hurts inside," the Lantern's voice came out as a moan, which sent all of Jay's blood directly to his cock. "I think that I need a prostate exam, doc."  

'Shameful,' Jay's Internal Alan said, 'you wouldn't do this with Barry, so I don't know why you think it's okay with my successor.'  

"Barry is pure and innocent," Jay bit back, although unfortunately, he spoke out loud, "I could never even think about doing this with him."  

Hal blinked up at him, looking for a moment as if he was worried about Jay. He probably was, given that Jay was talking to himself. "Are you okay, Old Man."  

Ah, there was the disrespect that Alan was always complaining about.  

"I was just thinking about how much Alan would disapprove if he ever found out," Jay explained, concerned by the grin that flashed across Jordan's face.  

"Ruining my idea for the hottest threesome of my life there, Jay."  

The speedster ignored him. "Now." He said. "About that prostate exam."  

There was a tub of warming lube on the table right next to them, most likely especially ordered in because there were several aliens and Atlanteans on the League, who could never visit doctors' surgeries for fear that their secret identities might be compromised, but who nonetheless still needed to have annual medical exams. Probably Bruce was the one in charge of the exams so that they didn't need to consult with any outside heroes.  

"Hal," Jay said, causing the other man to start, he had clearly gotten distracted watching Jay rub lube onto his fingers, "please pull up your legs so that it's easier for me to examine your prostate."  

Hal nodded, drawing his legs up to his chest, and fully exposing his hole. Hal could behave if you took the right track with him, Jay noted.  

Using one finger, Jay carefully circled one finger around Hal's hole, it was red, and overly sensitive, which was made clear when the Lantern whimpered in response. "Have you been playing with yourself, boy?" Jay asked, sternly.  

Hal nodded in response, pretending to be repentant, but it was clear to anyone that he wasn't.  

"You've rubbed yourself raw," the older man said, pushing his finger inside, Hal's hole practically swallowed him up. Really, the man could be in the running for an orange ring; Jay had never seen someone so greedy. "You see cases like this all the time, men like you so desperate to be fucked that they ride their own fingers in their spare time."  

The Lantern whined, trying to fuck himself on Jay's fingers, Jay indulged him, pushing in another.  

"Of course, there's only one cure." Jay continued, brushing his fingers over Hal's prostate, and smirking as the man bucked up.  

"Please, doc, please cure me."  

Jay couldn't exactly refuse, not when Hal looked so pretty, flushed and begging on the hospital bed like he was, and certainly not when he asked so nicely. Jay lined himself up, pushing into the Lantern.  

Hal practically mewled in response, when he felt the head of Jay's cock pushing into him and spread his legs so wide that the speedster had to grip them and hold them up himself.  

Jay groaned as he pushed in, enjoying the feeling of the surprisingly tight passage spasming around him as Hal tried to pull him deeper inside. Suddenly a thought struck him. "Do you ever think about me? When you're fingering yourself so desperately late at night." He knew that the answer was probably no and that if Hal answered in the affirmative, it was just to play into their roleplay, but the sudden image of the younger man squirming in bed, desperate for him was in his head now, and it was going to be difficult to dislodge.  

To his surprise, Hal nodded. "A lot. Sometimes I get worried about how often it happens."  

That didn't sound like a lie.  

"What do you think about? What do you want me to do to you?" Jay pressed, he was overstepping his bounds, but still, it was about him, so...  

The Lantern shook his head. "I can't tell you."  

"Do you want me to fuck you? Thrust so deeply into you that you see stars?" The speedster asked, thrusting forward to illustrate his point, Hal made a small, desperate noise. "Do you want me to breed you? Do you want me to fill you up?"   

Hal shivered, which meant that he was getting closer.  

"Or maybe, you've already been with Barry, and you want me to vibrate against your prostate, and make you cum until you can't anymore." He let his cock move faster, so fast that it was vibrating, so hard that he could hear the buzzing noise coming from the younger man's ass.  

Hal screamed in pleasure. 

Chapter Text

Kyle had told him all about Deathstroke, how a metahuman who had who in all honestly sounded like he was only slightly enhanced had beaten the entire Justice League, had been able to beat a Green Lantern. Truthfully though, Hal hadn't expected to ever meet the man, he was now spending months at a time in space, and if he did come across the man, he definitely hadn't been expecting to have trouble with him. Kyle had been a relatively young lantern when it had happened and had had no formal training, so he'd thought that might have had something to do with it, and that Kyle had been exaggerating when he'd described how dangerous Deathstroke was.  

At least that was before he'd actually run into the man, presumably having been hired to assassinate a prominent Coast City politician (who may or may not have been Hal's older brother), and had gotten a staff around the head and a sword through his shoulder for his trouble. Even though Hal could have ended the fight in a couple of moments, the mercenary managed to keep dodging his constructs. Hal had to reign himself in because the attacks that missed kept damaging both the building they were standing on and the surrounding buildings, but even when he was being careful, the amount of charge in his ring was still slowly ticking down. Eventually, it gave out entirely. Hal was an idiot. He'd landed himself with no way to fight back against someone who was a much better fighter than him.  

But he also couldn't let the man kill someone (especially someone who may or may not have been important to him).  

So he'd done the only thing he could think of doing.  

He'd offered up his ass.  

The mercenary had laughed deeply, pressed up against him and growled, "You really are a little slut," into his ear.  

Most people would have considered it rude to cut someone's clothes off of them with a sword, especially if you were out on the roof of a building in the middle of a public place, but then Hal supposed that most people didn't kill people for money, so Hal wasn't entirely sure what he had expected. But he made an indignant noise when the cold metal blade slid under his shirt.  

"Don't cut up my jacket," he snapped.  

"You know, I would really be more worried about me cutting up you right now." But Wilson didn't touch the jacket, just moved on to slicing his jeans off of him. Hal supposed at least he wouldn't have to sneak down from the roof of the building entirely naked.  

One thick thigh slid up between the Lantern's legs, pressing right up against his crotch. It began to grind up against him, and Hal's cock hardened embarrassingly quickly from the friction.  

He began to spread his legs slowly, in order to entice the older man to press into him, but it seemed to work too well. Deathstroke roughly grabbed his thighs and pulled them apart until the muscles ached, all so that he could get a look. He was probably deciding whether or not this sex was worth giving up on a contract, and if it wasn't what he could do to make it more interesting.  

He scoffed. Which wait, was Hal supposed to be offended by that, he was definitely annoyed by that reaction. Especially when the man pushed in with minimal preparation. Hal cried out, trying to find some kind of purchase on the cold stone of the roof with both his hands and his feet.  

The mercenary was large, for a human that was, not necessarily for an alien, because there were some aliens out there where if you tried to take them you would end up distended for days, possibly with a prolapse, Hal wasn't sure, he'd never actually tried that. He tended to give up with just a blowjob. But this guy was so large that it was a challenge getting it in, and there was definitely not enough lube, and every centimeter burned as it pushed into him. The Lantern groaned and whimpered, but the other man steadfastly ignored every single noise that he made.  

Hal tried desperately to relax, to make it as easy as possible for the other man to enter him, but it wasn't working, he usually got way more preparation than this. There was only one thing he could do; he opened his mouth to ask if they could slow down.  

Deathstroke pushed all of the way into him.  

Wilson laughed when he yelped. "I told you that you should have been more worried about me hurting you."  

"No, you said..."  

A tongue dragged along the skin of his neck. Hal shivered at the contact. "Next time you try to offer sex in exchange for someone's life, you should try not being a used up whore. Because as things are, I'm considering going and killing that guy anyway once we're done here. What is he, your boyfriend?"  

Hal wasn't going to answer that one, on the off chance that Deathstroke didn't know the identities of everyone in the League, he had to avoid giving such an obvious clue to his identity. "Maybe a used up slut would have sex with you to save anyone's life, did you ever think of that?"  

The man's blue eye was cold as it looked at him, enough so that it made Hal feel like he did already know, and had just been baiting him. Then, he snorted, thrusting in again, somehow even harder this time. He was probably worried that their banter was giving Hal far too much time to adjust, which had actually been the plan because when he started moving again, he set a brutal pace.  

Deathstroke pulled out of him and shoved back in almost instantly, which combined with not enough lube, was making Hal's ass seriously burn from the friction. But the mercenary was ignoring him except as a hole to be fucked, it seemed, or maybe he was just enjoying all the sounds of discomfort that Hal was making, in any case, Hal had offered himself up for this treatment, so he was just going to have to grin and bear it.  

"Too loose," the mercenary said, and Hal gritted his teeth, punching the dude in the head was probably not the best way to get him on your side, and would probably just make him pull out and return to his mission. But damn, he definitely wanted to. Instead, he tried to squeeze down around the thick cock, although it only increased his discomfort.  

Tragically, he could feel himself soften, and knew that he wasn't going to be able to get it back up, probably not even when he would inevitably try to jack off later, only to give up when he couldn't ignore how sore his ass was, and the hot spurt of cum in his ass just proved it.  

Deathstroke pulled out, tucked himself into his pants, and jumped off the roof, all without a word.  

Chapter Text

Hal had thought that when you had sex with your doppelganger, or your clone, or your alternate universe version, it was supposed to be fun. He was quickly being disabused of that notion. Maybe he should have tried a different version, the Flashlight Guy was pretty hot, although he might have been married. This guy was scared of everything, he was scared of topping and being a disappointment, he was afraid of bottoming, he was frightened that if Hal gave him a blowjob he'd try to bite his dick off (which was an incredibly weird fear), he was even scared of handjobs. 

Hal had tried to apologize for even suggesting that they do anything, stepping towards the door, but Power Ring had completely freaked out at that too, saying that it just proved that he was worthless or something. 

Whatever the Crime Syndicate had done to this guy, it had fucked him up badly. 

"Look," Hal said, "we don't need to do anything if you don't want to, but if you do... what would you want to do?" 

"I want to top! In fact, I demand it. Or I ask you nicely if I can top. I don't want to make you mad." 

Hal heroically resisted burying his face in his hands. 

He could deal with this, it was only slightly worse than dealing with Bruce. 

The only way that he could get anything out of this at all was if he took charge. 

Seeing the other version of him naked was quite a shocking experience, they had the same face, looking like twins, although it made Hal feel cold every time he saw his own face twisted in terror. Their similar facial structure had made Hal think that they were identical in every way. They weren't. Power Ring was skinny, so skinny that you could see his ribs, and the veins of his right arm bulged out grotesquely. The first thing Hal had tried to do was pull his counterpart's ring off, but it was stuck fast, it's poison slowly seeping up the man's body. It was a reminder of just how terrible Earth 3 was, and made Hal want to keep his alternate self in this universe where he would be safe. 

He was also way smaller than Hal was, in the cock department he meant. 

Careful to avoid touching the other man's arm (Hal wasn't sure if it would cause him more pain, but he did know that the arm meant that Power Ring was in agony all the time. He didn't want to make it worse), Hal pushed him down on the couch and straddled his hips, sinking down on Power Ring's cock with ease.

Power Ring hated bottoming. It was the only thing that the Crime Syndicate allowed him to do, and he meant ever. He would be called into what he thought was a routine meeting and stripped down. Ultraman would pin him to the table and pound into him as all of the other members of the Syndicate watched his humiliation, then Owlman would pull him into his lap, complaining about sloppy seconds the entire time (not that he would ever refuse to fuck Power Ring). Sea King would use him as a cock warmer. 

If he ever complained they would tell him his tiny, useless cock was unfit to fuck anyone, and that he should be glad that they were even willing to touch him. 

Power Ring hated when they touched him, but the one time he had voiced that resulted in the worst night of his life. Ultraman and Owlman had both used his ass at once, while Sea King used his mouth, he'd been stupid enough to vomit before they left the room. Remembering how the men's faces looked at that moment still made Harold shiver. 

But this, he liked this, he liked having a hot, tight channel clenching around his little dick. It was slick, and every time the Lantern, his 'good' version, whatever that meant, rose up, Power Ring's tiny cock almost slid out the entire way. Maybe that had been what the other men had been on about, when they'd told him that he could never satisfy anyone, but Power Ring couldn't bring himself to care. He was, at his core, a selfish man. He'd gotten what he always wanted, a warm hole to fuck, and he didn't particularly care if the owner of that hole got off. 

One particularly hard bounce had Power Ring falling all of the way out, and he found enough courage to flip them over, so that the Lantern was on his back, and he was the one in charge. 

"Please don't be mad," he begged, even as he pushed into the warm channel. "I don't want you to be mad at me." 

He rutted into his alternate universe self, a chuckle escaping his lips at the thought that the first person he had ever been inside was another version of himself. It was fitting really, almost like a metaphor for his general sex life. 

He could feel the hole twitch around him, almost as if it was trying to suck him further inside, as if it wanted more. Well, greedy holes didn't always get what they wanted, sometimes they just got used. 

Power Ring had been used a lot during his life, he deserved this. The universe owed him this one little thing. 

Something snapped inside him. 

He pounded in, enjoying the friction around his tiny cock for the first time in his life. "You love this, don't you, slut," he growled, as he rutted in, he was going to turn the other man's insides as white as his had been every time Ferris had called him into his office, every time that the Crime Syndicate had passed him around the table like he was a used up fleshlight instead of a founding member, how dare Green Lantern have the love and respect that he'd always wanted, "you'd spread your legs for anyone, but right now you have to put up with me." 

Even when it ended, far too soon, Power Ring was never built for stamina, he tended to be pushed to orgasm multiple times in just one session, he looked smug. His little dick pulsed inside the Lantern, covering his insides with small bursts of semen. "Not useless." He said proudly. 

Hal decided that he should probably refrain from mentioning that he hadn't come yet. 

Chapter Text

Every so often, Hal would head over to a dive bar, one where no one knew his name. Guy would probably be offended by him going to any bar that wasn't Warriors, but Warriors didn't have a glory hole in its bathroom, and he thought that Guy would probably have a lot more problems with him making one than he would with Hal patronizing someone else's bar.  

His stall was in the back of the bathroom, it was the one with the flickering light, and the floor was always slightly wet, possibly because people kept missing in the dark.  

The Lantern kneeled down, letting his knees get damp in the process, and waited. Waiting was always the hardest part.  

It was only about five minutes later that the first cock was shoved through the hole, some nights he was there for hours, once, the bartender had had to come in and turf him out at closing time.  

He was on his third before things started to get interested.  

Hal's first thought when he saw the third hard member shoved through the hole was that it could be Guy's, except that would have to mean that Guy followed him to this bar, and he didn't want to think about that. Besides, Guy's length had that little bend in it. His visitor was probably just some other redhead, hopefully, one who had no connection at all to the superhero community.  

It was thicker than most of the cocks that were shoved through, which was probably an occupational hazard on manning a glory hole, but it did mean that Hal wanted to savor it. He flicked his tongue over the head a few times, before delving it down under the foreskin, maybe it was because Hal didn't have one himself, but he was always overly curious about them, tugging them up with his teeth, tasting them. This one tasted like it hadn't been properly washed in a while, not that he really minded, in fact, he gave out a soft moan, palming himself through his jeans.  

"C'mon, no one comes to a glory hole to not be sucked off," a gruff voice sounded out, punctuated by the sound of a fist knocking against the wall of the stall, "I heard that you were supposed to be good at this. I don't have all day!"  

He started, and heat formed over his cheeks as he realized just how distracted he had been, he gripped the hard cock, giving it a few firm strokes, and eventually lowered his mouth onto it, his cheeks still burning. He moved down the cock slowly, taking in an inch at a time and giving it a hard suck before moving down another inch.  

"Oh fuck," the man breathed, "that's what I'm talking about." He bucked his hips forward as he spoke, and the tip of his cock slammed into the back of Hal's throat. "Take it, slut," there was laughter in his voice as he said those words.  

The Lantern decided that his initial Guy assessment hadn't been that far of the mark. Obviously, this man couldn't really be Guy Gardner, Hal would have recognized his voice if he was, but his personality was definitely similar. Both men liked things rough, and, Hal was guessing, both had more fun the more violent the sex was. If there wasn't a wall between them, he wasn't sure he wouldn't get punched in the face. Hal decided that he was just going to do the things that Guy liked, and hopefully, by the end of this, he would have one satisfied customer.  

He shifted his head so that the man's length slid down his throat every time he pushed his hips forward. It was thick, and the stranger enjoyed it when Hal held it down his esophagus for so long that he started to choke on it. Once, he pulled back long enough to get some breath, and the stranger deposited some precum directly onto his tongue. The Lantern's eyes were glazed over by this point, and he was focusing on nothing but the taste of the cock in his mouth, and rubbing his clothed crotch against the palm of his own hand, but the flavor of cum made him sit up and take notice, he wanted more, in fact, he needed more.  

He took the cock back into his mouth, suckling again, he was now only focused on getting to taste more of that cum, and he found that his effort was soon rewarded, the stranger's dick jerked in his mouth and a torrent of cum exploded from the dick. So much sperm that eventually it filled up his mouth entirely.  

Cum now covered Hal's face, and had seeped down into the leather of his dad's jacket, he wasn't sure if it would survive the dry cleaner this time. Hal's jeans were filled with the remnants of his own orgasm, and he wasn't looking forward to feeling the dampness in them for the rest of the night. The stranger removed himself from the glory hole and threw one last comment over his shoulder as he left the bathroom. "That was great, GL!" His voice was smug, and without another word, the door swung shut behind him.  

Chapter Text

It was probably hypocritical that Hal wasn't allowed in Gotham, but literally every single Gotham vigilante could hang around in Coast City whenever they wanted, at the very least it was unfair. Guy often said it was because they thought they were the center of the universe, Guy was sometimes capable of great moments of insight. Whatever it was though, Hal was going to complain about it when they got out of this situation. 

He'd needed to jump in and save Nightwing from a notorious space pirate and was rapidly learning to regret having done so, because both of them had been dosed with some kind of powder. No, he knew exactly what kind of dust it was, right at the beginning of his career as a Lantern, he'd been forced to work with Salaak for a mission, and he'd let his ring run out of charge next to the shipment of the stuff, what happened next was something that he preferred not to remember. 

When he said they'd both been dosed, that wasn't necessarily true, Grayson was suffering from the full effects of the powder, but Hal's ring protected him from toxins, as long as the ring stayed on, he would be fine. 

Nightwing whined, rubbing his crotch up against Hal's desperately, Hal could feel how hard he was through the fabric. The Lantern gritted his teeth. 

"It's okay, Nightwing," he said, trying to be comforting, "I can get us out of here, as long as I have the ring on, the pollen isn't going to affect me. I won't let anything happen to you." He held his hand up as he spoke, as if showing his ring off to the younger man. 

Nightwing glared at the ring. 

Hal decided to just ignore that response, even if it was a little disconcerting, and pressed on with his speech. "If it's okay with you, I'm going to pick you up now, if we get you away from the toxin, it should eventually stop affecting you, right?" 

Dick wasn't listening to him. Instead, he was staring at something behind Hal. "GL?" He asked, he sounded nervous, maybe Hal would have even pegged him as scared. 

The Lantern whirled around, trying to see what was freaking the younger man out so badly, only to see nothing there. 

When he turned back, his ring was gone. 

Nightwing was quietly slipping it into one of his pockets. Hal's eyes widened, and he reached out towards the man, now that he wasn't protected by the ring, he wouldn't be able to stop the uncontrollable desperation. Grayson danced out of reach. 

As Hal's costume began to dissolve around him, he felt an overwhelming heat spread across his body. His cock began to thicken almost immediately. 

Grayson purred at him, actually purred. "Now that's what I wanted to see," he breathed into Hal's ear, squeezing the pilot's cock through his jeans, "I really want this inside me, do you think you're up to that?" 

Hal shivered in response, but he was still trying to fight against the fog that was now clouding his thoughts. "Dick," he hissed, "give me my ring back." 

Grayson scooted away from him. "You'll have to come and take it from me. That's the only way you'll get it back." 

When Hal tackled him to the floor, he already knew that the pollen had taken over. 

Hal had long since taken to carrying lube around with him, especially since Arthur had started demanding that he act as the royal cock warmer during League Meetings (Hal was suspicious that the position wasn't actually a thing), which had 1) turned out to be weirdly fun, and 2) led to a lot of orgies. 

In his sex pollen induced haze, Hal hadn't bothered taking any care with the younger man's costume and had torn at the material, until the brown skin of Grayson's round ass was visible. Nightwing had immediately spread his legs with a wanton moan, giving the Lantern a good view of his pink and twitching hole. He was showing off for Hal, and that was kind of hot. 

If Hal had any more control over himself under these circumstances, he would have buried his face between Grayson's fat cheeks and eaten him out for hours, but he didn't have that kind of control, and at that moment he just wanted to bury his cock in the tight channel that was being offered up to him. 

So, he had three fingers buried in Nightwing's ass, even is the vigilante squirmed and wailed and begged for more, and he was so hard that it was starting to hurt. 

Dick was rocking his hips forward and backward, fucking himself on Hal's thick fingers, and the Lantern found himself fascinated by the way that the vigilante's hole clung to his knuckles. 

He'd soon pulled his digits out of the younger man's ass, when his moans finally became too much to bear, leaving Nightwing clenching around nothing. Oh yeah, the vigilante was desperate for some cock, and he was definitely willing to oblige. 

So, Hal ended up pressing the bulbous head of his cock up against Dick Grayson's hole, in the middle of a disused warehouse, and it was some of the best sex of his life. His dick slid in without much difficulty. Hal's cock felt like it was encased entirely in warm velvet, and he groaned at the sensation. 

"Please, GL, please, you don't have to be gentle with me, just fuck me," Dick groaned. 

That had been what Hal had been hoping to hear, and he started pounding into the younger man in earnest, enjoying the way that Dick's cock contracted around him, as well as the way that Nightwing's moans kept getting louder and louder each time that Hal thrust into him. 

Not that Hal needed to do all of the work, because the vigilante was bucking himself back onto Hal's cock. Grayson moaned, wrapping a hand around his member. 

One particularly hard thrust had Grayson coming all over himself, painting a line of cum from his dick onto Hal's chest, and Hal wondered if the orgasm meant that the effect of the pollen would start wearing off, but Nightwing only flipped them and started riding Hal in earnest. 

Chapter Text

Even Hal knew that he shouldn’t have been doing this, there was something about having sex with John’s ex-brother in law that just felt wrong, even if he had never met John’s sister. He had, though, decided that his role in the Justice League was to act as stress relief, and it wasn’t like Black Lightning should be exempt from that. Especially when the man looked so stressed recently.  

Or maybe, Hal was just kinda a cock slut, and he was just making excuses.  

“You’ll be hurt,” was the first thing that Jefferson said when Hal made his suggestion, and like... it was cute that he was concerned, but Hal had probably been through much worse pain in his life. Including the time Carol had trapped him on a lightning planet so that she could torture him. “Do you have any idea how many volts I can produce?”  

It couldn’t have been more than he’d suffered through on the lightning planet, where he’d been hit about half a dozen times a minute. “I’ll have my ring on.” He said hoping to relax the man, although both of them knew that the electricity would have to touch his bare skin for him to feel anything, the costume (although it looked thin) just acted like another layer of shielding.  

He’d wrapped a dark blindfold around his head, and collapsed, face down onto Jefferson’s bed, the bed in the grey, barely furnished quarters on the watchtower, not at his actual place. Hal couldn’t remember the last time he’d had sex in someone’s actual home, but that was a relationship thing, for people you cared about. Not a casual sex thing.  

The door creaked open beside him, and soon he felt fingers running along his sides, brushing the top half of his construct costume up, he would have said something about the green parts of his suit being hot, but the older man hissed out the word “freezing...” which meant he’d definitely touched one of the black areas.  

“The dark parts of my costume are cold,” Hal said helpfully, “but it’s better for you to touch them than the green parts.”  

“You could have mentioned that before,” Jeff breathed, but the next thing that Hal felt was fingers brushing against his bare skin, so he couldn’t have been too mad.  


Hal yelped, rolling out of the way of those torturous digits. “Cold hands! Cold hands!”  

“You’ve earned this punishment,” Jeff said coldly, as he pressed his fingers to Hal’s face, “it’s your own fault.”  

It took a while to get Hal back onto the bed after he’d fallen onto the floor in a desperate bid to escape the cold hands, especially after he rolled under the bed, and Jeff had started to worry that he’d actually seriously hurt himself during the fall. Some lame crack about him being scared had had the younger man shooting right out from under the bed though, trying to prove Jeff wrong.  

He was back on the bed in seconds, trying out some pose that was probably meant to be enticing but really just came off as trying way too hard.  

Jeff snorted, and changed the man’s position to the way that it had been before, pushing the fabric (he wasn’t even sure if you could call it fabric) up the younger man’s back with his clothed elbow. His fingertips buzzed and crackled with electricity as he ran them over the freckled skin of the Lantern’s lower back, and Hal gasped in response to the sensation.  

“Hmm,” Jeff said, moving one sparking hand around to Hal’s groin, and groping him through the freezing cold fabric. Hal grunted in response, tugging the lower half of his costume down to around his ankles.  

Jeff took advantage of the situation, gripping his balls in his hand, rolling them around in his fingers. Then, he applied a quick shock to them, causing the Lantern to scream as electricity surged through the most sensitive part of his body.  

He could see the cum slowly dripping out of Hal’s cock, covering the bed (Jeff would need to sneak the sheets into the washroom tomorrow), but he wasn’t done yet. While the younger man was still riding out his orgasm, Jeff pressed two fingers into his hole. Wriggling them as he moved, he soon found Hal’s prostate and rubbed the pads of his fingers up against it.  

Drool escaped from Hal’s mouth as his eyes rolled back in his head, he was already oversensitized from his initial orgasm, but he was going to get even more, and his cock began hardening again in preparation.  

After circling his fingertips, massaging the Lantern’s prostate as he whimpered in pleasure, for what he deemed ‘long enough,’ he allowed electricity to spark across his fingers again. Hal convulsed as the lightning danced across his prostate, and Jeff suddenly regretted not slipping his belt between the younger man’s teeth, he was worried that Hal might actually bite through his tongue.  

He watched as more cum dripped out of Hal’s cock, tears pouring from his eyes as he was bombarded with pleasure, and removed his fingers from the man’s hole as easily as he had pushed them in. He found that he still wanted more.  

Jeff looped his fingers over the waist of his jeans and pulled his pants down enough that his cock was freed. “Jordan,” he said, taking his cock in his hand and rubbing it until it was fully hard, “you okay to carry on?”  

Jordan groaned, wiping his hand over his still wet lips. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He said. 

Chapter Text

Hank Hall leaned back in his chair, taking a bite of sausage and trying to ignore the way that the man who used to be Parallax glared at him across the table. It had been years since the event where they had tried to remake the universe, neither of them really got along with the other.

“What is it?” Hank asked, annoyance seeping into his voice.

“I can’t believe that you made me wear this,” the Lantern bit back, he wasn’t even touching his food. Probably, he was too distracted by the lacy lingerie that Hank had told him to wear under his clothes, although he had layered so many clothes over it that Hank was considering punishing him over it. What was the point of wearing lacy panties if people couldn’t see flashes of them every time your jeans slid down on your hips?

Or maybe Hal was mad at the buttplug, thick as a man’s fist, that Hank had shoved into him that morning, that couldn’t be comfortable.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Hank replied, because he genuinely didn’t, there were a lot of different things that the older man could have been whining to him about.

“I need to go piss,” the Lantern snarled, and Hank could only smirk in response, he’d strapped Hal into a cock cage that morning, with a sounding rod fitted snugly inside his slit. Hal could only piss if someone unlocked him, and Hank didn’t particularly feel like doing it at that exact moment.

“I don’t see any reason that I should be giving you a reward like that right now,” Hank rested his chin on his palm, his grin was only growing wider as he spoke, “you haven’t exactly done anything to deserve it, have you?”

The older man gritted his teeth but wisely decided not to start a fight in the middle of a café. Hawk was completely willing to take the key and leave right then, which would mean that Hal had to get the cock cage removed at the hospital. Hal knew that he would do it, and, as a prideful man, wished desperately to avoid that conclusion. “What can I do that will make you think I deserve a reward?” He asked, finally.

Hank nodded down towards the table. “Get underneath,” he said curtly. “I wanna use you as a cock warmer.” There were more delicate ways to put it, sure, but with everything Hank had heard about Jordan, he definitely didn’t deserve them.

The Lantern’s face drained of both color and emotion in a matter of seconds, it was apparent that he was uncertain about getting on his knees in the middle of a public place. But it was the only way that he was going to get out of that cock cage.

Just when Hank was about to lean forward and remind the man that he had agreed to be Hawk’s slut for the day, Hal closed his eyes, sighed, and pulled the tablecloth up, settling down on the floor in between Hank’s spread legs. When he let go of the cloth, it was just long enough to completely shield him from view. No one would know that he was there.

Cold fingers fumbled with Hank’s jeans, and it took far longer than he would have liked for his thick, heavy cock to be freed from the confines of his boxers. With a groan that it was taking too long, he snaked his hand beneath the table, and his fingers had soon gripped the man’s curly brown hair, and with only a little bit too much force, shoved the man’s head down until his parted lips had swallowed his cock down to the root.

Enveloped in warm heat, Hank returned to his meal, picking his way through eggs, bacon, potato, and sausage as slowly as he possibly could, so that he could enjoy the sounds that Hal was making as he choked on Hank’s cock. Wanting to allow the older man to adjust to his girth at least a little, Hank only rolled his hips forward a few times in the ten minutes that it took him to finish his meal.

But even then, Hank wasn’t willing to let his new cockslut go quite yet, he needed to stay at this table a little while longer, and he needed an excuse fast. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Hal’s pancakes, still barely touched, at the other end of the table. It was a simple matter to drag it towards him, and it was hardly like the Lantern would mind. He already had his mouth full.

He had started thrusting down deep into Hal’s throat, enjoying the way that the man gagged around him, when the waitress came over to refill his coffee. “Where’s your friend?” She asked, still wearing the bright smile that the restaurant mandated, she was apparently oblivious to the wet slurps that drifted down from under the table every time Hank shoved Hal’s head down on his cock.

“Oh, uh, he needed to go to the bathroom,” Hank replied to her, it wasn’t really a lie, Hal did need to go to the bathroom, he just needed to do a lot more work until he was allowed to.

Later, when they had finally managed to get into the bathroom, Hank had the older man pressed up against the wall, and had his tongue shoved down his throat.

“Please,” Hal breathed, when they had finally pulled back for some air, “I need to piss, please let me out of the cage.”

“Just a second,” Hank growled, pulling his cock out of his pants again, his balls were still heavy, and he needed to shoot his load somewhere, and he knew exactly where the perfect place was. He shoved down the older man’s jeans and let the head of his cock slip into the lacy panties.

He jerked himself off furiously, all the while biting down on the Lantern’s neck, at some point he tasted blood, and at the same moment, he spurted his load into the panties.

Hal painted a pretty picture when he took a step back, thick globs of white cum threatened to slide down his thighs, his mouth was parted in need, and, if you looked at just the right angle, there was a fist-sized buttplug straining against the mint green panties.

It was the kind of view people would pay money for, and it was just a shame that Hank had forgotten to bring his camera.

Chapter Text

Hal's entire world was darkness.  

He'd shown up at Bruce's manor one night, and yeah, his main goal had just been to talk, it wasn't his fault that Bruce just assumed that he wanted sex every time they met (it was probably a little bit his fault that Bruce just assumed that he wished to have sex every time they met). Hell, maybe Hal had wanted something else, just after all of the critical conversations that the two of them needed to have. But then Bruce had looked at him in exasperation and told his butler to deal with Hal.  

Maybe Hal was still bristling with indignity when Alfred led him away from the study because it wasn't like Bruce enjoyed hosting dinner parties for the wealthy elite of Gotham anyway, and it wasn't like Hal had burst in on that group anyhow, he'd just gone to visit Bruce in his study.  

Then, when he saw that he was being led to a spare bedroom, rather than to the front door, his indignity turned into confusion. Wasn't Alfred supposed to be kicking Hal out of the mansion? Bruce had said 'deal with' but that tended to mean 'get rid of.'  

That was the first moment that the butler saw fit to speak to him. "Really, Master Harold, you do need to work on your patience," he had said, "luckily, I have just the thing to teach you."  

So that was how Hal had ended up naked on a bed in a spare room somewhere in the manor, with a blindfold wrapped around his head, and with ropes binding him up tightly, apparently, the butler really didn't think that much of Hal's patience.  

He waited there on that bed, waited, and waited, for what felt like hours. He didn't really have much idea of the passage of time when he couldn't see, but he did know that nothing was happening. He couldn't even hear Alfred shuffling around behind him. It couldn't be possible for a human being to move as quietly as that.  

Hal could see this being an attempt to humiliate him, Bruce was totally the type to do that. "Are you still there?" He found himself asking, tongue thick in his throat.  

A switch came down on his ass, and Hal cried out in pain, only to receive clipped tones in response. "I apologize, sir, but I believe I told you that you needed to be more patient." He offered no explanation as to where the switch had come from, which meant Hal was almost sure that he'd discovered Wayne Manor's secret BDSM room.  

Hal whimpered but followed the instructions, and soon enough, he heard what sounded like medical gloves being pulled on, emanating from somewhere behind him.  

The older man was detached when he finally touched Hal, as if this was just another part of the job rather than an intimate act with another human being, there was no licking, which, yeah, Hal hadn't really been expecting, he didn't think that prim and proper British gentlemen exactly went for the whole licking thing. But there was also no talking, and minimal unnecessary touching, kissing was obviously right out. In a way, the lack of touch, combined with the sensory deprivation, only enhanced his sensitivity, so every time fingers brushed up against him, he gasped in shock.  

Goose pimples rose up on Hal's skin the moment that the cold, gloved, lubed up finger rubbed up against his hole for the first time, over-sensitized, it opened up slightly for the digit, because, fuck, did Hal want it inside him right then. That was what he wanted, a nice good finger fucking, it felt like so long since he'd had that.   

Alfred tutted at him when that happened. "Patience," he reminded the Lantern, pulling his hand away again, "or I will be forced to stop altogether."  

Hal definitely didn't want that to happen, not when his hard cock was pressing up against his stomach insistently, he definitely didn't want to be tossed out into the cold, dark night without getting off.  

The butler resumed gently circling Hal's hole with his finger just a moment later, he was apparently satisfied that the Lantern had been suitably chastised and that he would behave himself for the rest of this exercise.  

He kept circling for a minute, possibly far longer, all the while Hal fought not to struggle against his bonds, to buck his hips, or to do anything else that might have implied impatience, he knew that if he did the older man would just stop again. The finger moved torturously slowly, and for some reason, Hal's body was responding, as precum leaked out of the head of his cock and dribbled down his stomach.  

Finally, Alfred must have noticed how good Hal was trying to be for him because he allowed his finger to dip inside. Hal keened in response.  

He gripped the sheets in his fists as the older man's finger rubbed up against the walls of his ass. Then, as soon as he started rutting against the bedsheets, the finger was gone again.  

Hal whined it wasn't fair for the other man to stop right when he was about to come against the bedsheets, he knew that he was being bad at the time, but he'd thought that he was finally being rewarded. Was he going to have to wait until the master of the house arrived before he could orgasm?  

Thankfully, it seemed that Alfred had only left to go get something else, because, within moments, Hal felt the blunt head of a silicone object pressing up against his entrance. "I apologize, Master Harold," Alfred was saying, "I'm afraid the dinner will last far longer than expected."