Mean Nothing

“This doesn’t mean anything.”

Hal leans up on his folded arms, still lying under his sheets and stares at Sinestro’s back. The Korugarian is sitting on the side of the bed, turned away from him, but still naked from earlier. Hal doesn’t say anything, just watches as the muscles in Sinestro’s back tense and the man stands up.

“This doesn’t mean anything,” Sinestro repeats, still not facing Hal.

“Who are you trying to convince?” Hal asks, lying his head down. “Me or you?”

“I’m explaining it to you Jordan,” growls Sinestro, vile yellow uniform reappearing on him. “To make it clear that…”

“What? That this changes nothing?” Hal taunts, voice silky soft. He doesn’t bother to lift his head and barely opens his eyes. “You really thought I’d think letting you fuck me was going to change anything Sinestro? I’m not stupid. I know this doesn’t mean anything. Just get out and go away.”

Hal rolls over the face the wall, shutting his eyes all the way. He hears Sinestro take a step toward the bed, then the bit of snarl as the Korugarian turns away and the sharp cracking sound of the balcony’s glass door being slammed shut. Hal curls up into himself, wondering as he reaches the edge of sleep if Carol will let him have a day off. He needs it. He needs to patrol and try to lose his thoughts. Needs to find new bruises to replaces the ones Sinestro left on him after sex so when he looks at them he won’t be reminded.

Sex didn’t change a damn thing, but Hal really wishes it had meant nothing.