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Listen, he didn't think they'd get in this situation when they decided to team up, okay?
But, Hal never does tend to have the best of luck when it comes down to it, so hell if he knows what's best.
Either way, both Hal and Oliver are now stuck in an...oddly precarious position. The position being Hal bound on top of Oliver’s lap, both of their legs and hands tied on one of the seats by some kind of magic rope on their own spaceship. There isn’t enough give for either of them to get out, and the ropes seem to burn at any attempt.
Neither of them remember exactly how they got here, just a blast of white light, a weird prickly sensation in their chests, and then nothing.
Given their current predicament, neither of them can actually move much at all. Hal's ring is charging in his room, and Oliver’s equipment is on the far end of the ship floor.
But it seems that the ship is still bound for the Watchtower, from what Oliver can see over his shoulder on the control console, so neither of them are too worried.
Hal, being an impatient git, keeps trying to wriggle his way out of the magic rope that's tied around his wrists which are looped around Oliver's shoulders. Oliver's own wrists are bound around Hal's waist. It’s tight enough that neither Hal nor Oliver want to mess with it too much, lest they lose a limb. So they decide to wait it out. That works for about two minutes until Hal’s decided he had enough.
And listen, Oliver isn't blind, okay? He's aware that while Hal is a git, he's also stupidly hot and muscular, and Hal's incessant moving on his lap makes him bristle with both annoyance and heat.
"Stop messing with it, Hal.” He attempts to maintain the most neutral voice possible as Hal wriggles his legs again. “I don’t feel like losing a hand and it's another hour or two until we land by the looks of it. We’ll be home soon."
"But the ropes are almost loose, if I can just-" Hal strains, wriggling a little more and widening his own legs, slotting himself right into Oliver's hips. This unfortunately, causes the archer's hands to fall just a little from Hal's waist down to the small of his back. A small groan releases from the archer’s lips.
Oh, Hal thinks.
Given the fact that they’re bound by magic rope, Oliver's own ropes tighten even more, pushing Hal impossibly further into his lap as Oliver grunts in pain.
"Well it's making my ropes tighter. Stop fucking with it, Hal." He wills himself not to get hard over this. He’s beginning to think he just might fail.
"Wait, Ollie I think if I-FUCK OW!" The bonds sizzle and tighten into the pilot's wrists, slamming Oliver's head onto his shoulder.
Well, then.
"Are you comfortable yet, Jordan?" He deadpanned.
"Shut the fuck up, Queen."
They sit in silence for almost thirty minutes, breathing each other in. Neither of them move too much, but talking on the current position they’re in feels too awkward.
Hal, who’s been counting down the seconds in anticipation, is overwhelmingly surrounded by the scent of the archer, of pine and carved wood and a hint of some Oud cologne. He absolutely refuses to admit that it's turning him on.
The more they breathe each other in, the more they tense, Oliver’s thighs tensing underneath Hal and the air around them turning heavy with want. Hal squirms in the silence, the small ministrations slowly driving Oliver crazy.
Hal opens his mouth to say something when the spaceship jerks, making him tighten his legs around Oliver's waist instinctively, and pressing his crotch straight into the archer’s. Oh, he thinks.
He sucks in a sharp breath, wishing he wasn't getting hard right up until he feels something right into the divot of his thigh.
Oh. Hal thinks, again.
The silence is almost deafening, both heroes breathing heavily. The spaceship stutters a little, causing Hal to bounce in Oliver’s lap. He’s trying to maintain any sort of decorum he has left until.
"Hal-" Oliver's low voice cuts off as the spaceship jerks again.
"Fuck, I-" and Hal's fully hard now—they both are. There’s no denying they can feel each other's erection, but they both hold their breath (and the last bits of their pride) refusing to say anything more.
Another harsh jerk causes both of them to rock into each other, both moaning at the pleasure rippling through them.
He knows this is a bad idea, knows that it comes with consequences—really bad ones (Lesson 1: never ever get involved with people you work with).
Hal has never been a man who makes the best decisions. He rolls his hips again experimentally, listening to Oliver let out a delicious groan that reverberates underneath him, trying desperately to buck up.
"Fuck,” he moans. “Is this okay? Tell me I can-" Hal tries to lift his head only to see the archer’s eyes heavy-lidded with want.
He snaps. "Shut up and ride me Hal.”
There isn’t much space, but Hal’s been pent up since they left for this mission four weeks ago, and he didn’t particularly fancy getting off with a robot-alien (not that he wouldn’t—it’s just not as fun with metal parts), so it’s been long enough that Hal thinks he could get off just like this. Oliver’s hands themselves to grip Hal’s cheeks with what little give he does have, grasping at them to move into him until his crotch is lined up against the edge of his hip, and Hal’s ass is sitting plush underneath Oliver’s very hard cock.
His borderline sinful groan echoes across the ship as Hal starts to grind into him.
“Fuck, that’s it.” The archer moans into his ear, bucking up into him. Oliver turns his face so that he can mouth at Hal’s neck, letting himself wash over with want want want. He bites and pulls and almost breaks skin, and by the sound of it Hal finds it even more hot when he gets a little rough with his neck.
“Ollie- ah fuck, that’s it, right there,” his voice cracks a little at the end when Oliver finds a particularly sensitive spot behind his ear, and attacks it like a man starved.
Hal’s going at it, grinding himself into the other’s lap like a man starved, and Oliver is grabbing at anything he can to buck up into; his ass, his thigh. He honest to god growls into Hal’s neck when he grinds straight into his cock, the friction causing a delicious trail of heat up his spine. Hal’s rhythm stutters at the sound and it gives Oliver the time to grab his cheeks and press him down into him, letting the desire wash over him as he bucks up into the man on his lap.
“Ah-ah, god-,” Hal lets out a heady moan. “Right there,”
The ship jerks violently, making the men stop. Oliver checks over his shoulder to check the console, “It’s fine, the ship is rerouting.”
The ropes loosen. Both the men have just enough give to wiggle their wrists. They could try to get out now, if they stop here. They both hit this realization at the same time.
Hal shuffles a little to look down at the archer, tests the give to see if it doesn't re-tighten itself. When he lifts his hips up and rolls them back down without any added interference, he looks at the archer. Oliver looks back up at him as he rolls his hips again, hard. He lets out the smallest, “Ah- please.” and that’s all the permission Hal needs.
He lifts his arms to give Oliver space to move his head and crashes their lips as he resumes grinding into Oliver’s lap. Oliver’s new (ish) position lets him grip Hal’s hips with his forearms, holding him steady as he slips his tongue into the other man’s mouth, licking into the heat.
“You’re so fucking full of shit, you know,” Hal starts, pulling away. Oliver goes back to attacking Hal’s neck in response.
“Telling me-,” he pants hard. “Telling me off for fucking around with everyone,”
“But you love it, don’t you?” He lets out a breathy laugh.
“How long have you wanted to do this? Hm?”
Oliver Queen wishes he could shut him up. So, he does. Jams his tongue back into Hal’s throat as he feels Hal laugh into the kiss.
He pulls back to arch right into him again, pressing his finger in between the pilot’s cheeks, feeling the way his stomach and cock twitches at the sensation.
“How long have you?” He replies with another thrust upwards. “Mm, you’re the one always getting on my nerves.”
“Only because you get on mine.” Hal replies, but it comes out more stuttering moan than words.
He’s almost there now, with the way he keeps grasping for some kind of purchase. But with the binds he can’t do much more than kiss and grind.
“Make me come and maybe I’ll stop.”
And well, Oliver thinks, that’s definitely good incentive. Oliver bites down on the sensitive spot behind his ear, “That’s- ah,” he presses his finger roughly into his hole, and grinds right up, and that’s all it takes for Hal to come.
His muscles tense, “Ollie, please.” As he rides it his high.
A few more thrusts upwards and another press into his hole when Oliver comes, "Fuck, that’s a good boy."
Hal comes again at the words. He’s almost ashamed.
They’re both still breathing heavily as they come down from their highs, sticky and sweaty from the exertion. The magic rope has also loosened enough that Hal wriggles his hands free. They both still as they hear the sound of the rope falling onto the ship floor.
“Told you I can get my hands free.” Hal says, eventually.
“Well why didn’t you do that sooner?” He says dumbly.
“Because I was a little busy, you asshole.” He huffs a little, a little dejected. He still hasn’t gotten off of Oliver’s lap, primarily because Oliver’s hands are still tied up, and they're both still too sticky.
The archer noses at his neck after a few minutes of silence, apologizing.
“I had fun,” he starts, kissing at the skin he bruised in apology. “Maybe next time only one of us is tied up, though.”
Hal breathes out a laugh, shaking his head. Oliver kisses him, nipping at his lip. "M’sorry." He moves his lips up across his neck, to his ears. “I’ll fuck you right later.” He whispers and Hal doesn't hide the shiver that runs through him in anticipation.
He eventually gets both of them out of their binds, standing up on shaky and sticky legs.
-
When they land back on the Watchtower, they both hobble out and run to the showers to wash off the evidence. Technically speaking, no one knew there was anything wrong, so they didn't need to worry about anyone waiting for them to land. They do have J’onn check over them for any sort of mind control, just as a precaution.
“Did something happen to you two over there?” He raises an eyebrow.
“Nope. Just a precaution, you know how robots are.” Hal replies, leaning back on his heels.
J’onn clears his throat once, awkwardly. "You are both free to go, then."
By the time Hal finishes packing up to head back home, he runs into Ollie.
“I- hey.” He stutters awkwardly. Oliver just stands, leaning against the door. He looks borderline sinful, wet hair curling against his face.
“Do you wanna give that another go, then?” Oliver cocks his head down to the zeta tubes back home.
Hal smirks. “Only if you make good on your promise.”
“Oh, I intend to.” He smirks right back.