Barry ran hot. His body stayed at a relatively high temperature as a result of his powers. That being said, being in cold weather was not the optimal choice for Barry, especially when he walked into the meeting room and instantly felt the temperature cock down about thirty degrees—and the air conditioning wasn’t even on.
Warily and as calmly as he could, he crossed the floor to his seat and sat down, placing his hands in his lap as he glanced around, trying to find the source of the sudden chill.
Diana was busy filling out some paperwork for the museum she worked at.
Oliver was scrolling through his phone with his ankles resting on the table.
Bruce was scrolling through his tablet with his usual void expression, though for some odd reason, he seemed to be in a much fouler mood than usual.
And Hal, surprisingly, was bent over the table, his elbow curled on the table as he laid his chin atop them, an impressive puppy-dog pout on his lips.
Barry looked between his best friend and the Dark Knight, lips forming a small ‘oh’ as he realized the source of the chilliness. He leaned over and whispered, though he had no doubts that Bruce could hear him, “You okay, good buddy?”
Hal didn’t look at him as he muttered, “Spooky won’t gimme a kiss.”
“You know he’s not into PDA, right?”
“Yeah, but it’s me.”
“Okay, but that doesn’t cancel the two out,” Barry logicalized. “Are you really upset that he won’t give you a kiss?”
“He’s upset because I won’t let him have my side of the bed at the manor,” Bruce interrupted, not even bothering to look at them. “I sleep on the left side and I’m not moving and now he’s butt-hurt.”
“I’m not butt-hurt,” Hal griped. “I’m butt-squeezed.”
Bruce inhaled through his nose and glared at Hal. “You are not getting the left side of the bed, you uncomplacent child.”
“Well, you don’t have to be rude about it,” he retorted, pulling himself up to cross his arms over his chest, still pouting like a toddler. “And here I thought you loved me.”
“I do love you,” Bruce corrected, matter-of-factly. “But just because I love you doesn’t mean I’m going to give up my side of the bed for you. It’s my side. You can take the right side.”
“But I don’t like the right side of the bed!” he whined. “I sleep on the left side!”
“I can have Alfred blow up an inflatable bed for you if it bothers you that much,” he offered, and Hal glared at him.
“You’re a jerk.”
Bruce shrugged. “I’ve been called worse.”
Hal cocked a brow. “Oh yeah? Like what?”
“Your boyfriend,” he retorted smugly, and Hal’s face pinched.
“You’re such an ass.”
“I never said I wasn’t. But that still doesn’t mean you’re getting the left—”
“OH MY GOD!” Hal growled. “YOU’RE GONNA GIVE ME THE LEFT SIDE OF THE BED OR SO HELP ME GOD!”
Bruce merely blinked at him and turned back to his tablet. “Oh no, I’m trembling in my Kevlar suit.”
Hal’s face streaked crimson and he whipped his head at Barry. “I’m gonna kill him. I love him but I’m gonna strangle him with his own cape.”
Barry snorted, catching the smirk on Bruce’s face. “I’m sure you will, Hal.”
“ARE YOU DOUBTING THAT I CAN?”
“No, no, I never said that,” he said, managing not to laugh but he was slowly losing the fight.
“YOU KNOW WHAT?! LEMME TELL YOU SOMETHING, BARTHOLOMEW! I AM HAL JORDAN…”