Chapter Text
Flash avoided Peter for the next week. He would've felt bad about it if he wasn't positive Peter was doing the same.
But it worked out mostly, seeing how Flash was an instructor for the Academy and Peter had long since graduated and only ever came to the Triskelion when he was dropping off a report or going on a special SHIELD mission.
But still, they avoided any possible interactions with each other. Flash didn't even take his class out for their weekly city patrol, too afraid of running into one red-and-blue clad arachnid.
He wasn't sure how much Peter remembered from that night, but it was enough for Peter to get all stiff and awkward whenever he and Flash were in proximity of each other. Eye contact was a no-go, and if they needed to speak it was the briefest of sentences, until one of them inevitably broke and left the room.
Honestly, Flash couldn't blame him. Peter was probably very embarrassed that he'd gotten wasted, and confessing his (fake) love for Flash was probably salt on the wound. The awkwardness made sense. Peter hadn't been in his right mind and it was probably super embarrassing to think about, so Flash was more than happy to avoid it.
In fact, Flash didn't feel particularly keen on bringing it up himself. Sure, they're little game couldn't go on forever, but Flash was not eager to hear Peter let him down easy, even though he ran through the rejection thousands of times in his own head.
It just hit differently hearing it out loud.
Thus, they avoided each other at any means necessary and it was going pretty well until MJ and Harry decided to get involved.
Curse good friends looking out for their other friends' well-being.
"Okay, what's going on between you two," MJ demanded one day during lunch hour, slamming her hand on Flash's very nice, standard issue SHIELD desk where he was at work grading papers. Normally, he might not have minded a distraction, but the look in her eye could upper-cut Galactus and he vainly attempted to hide behind the paper in his hand.
"What do you mean?"
"Come on," Harry said, the faceplate of his armor sliding up to reveal his face. "Peters' been acting strange all week. MJ told me about what happened at the party."
Flash's cheeks pinked but he kept his head bowed, pretending to mull over one of his students' answers in hopes that they wouldn't notice. "What is there to tell? Nothing happened."
The two shared a look, which was never a good sign. It was a doubtful look, meaning they weren't buying into his shit, meaning they weren't going to let him off easy. He wondered if he could make it to the door and out of the building in time to catch a helicopter to the city - hide in the urban jungle for a while and pretend he wasn't avoiding them. It must've shown in his face because MJ shifted her weight, blocking his view of the door, and Harry crossed his arms. The man wasn't necessarily intimidating, but Flash knew the lengths he would go for Peter, and that was more than enough to get his message across.
Who was Flash kidding anyway? He wouldn't make it 5 feet from the desk.
He sighed and put the paper down, "Nothing happened," he finally said, "I just took him home, tucked him in bed, and left."
Please buy it. Please buy it. Please buy it.
Venom cackled unhelpfully when MJ pursed her lips and leaned over the desk, eyes narrowing in a way that said she was not buying it. Flash tried to keep his expression neutral, but MJ had this strange habit of looking into people's very souls. A few seconds passed and he shifted uncomfortably, fidgeting with his pencil.
Whatever she saw in the deepest pits of Flash's soul made her sigh and pulled a chair, similar to Flash's old football coach when he announced that they would not be going to nationals. She looked like she was about to give him bad news or life advice. Maybe both.
"Look," she said, "Peter told me a little about what happened, but he was so drunk I need to get it from you too. Obviously something happened, and don't try to tell me it was nothing. You guys haven't been able to look each other in the eye since the party."
Flash blew out a rough breath, rubbing the back of his neck, "Nothing really happened, okay," he insisted, "Peter just...he just said a lot of things. A lot of...drunk things..."
"Like what?" Harry asked, sitting on the edge of Flash's desk. It creaked under the weight of his armor and he quickly got back to his feet.
"Like...I don't know, just stuff," he sighed, leaning forward on the desk, "Look, he was drunk so I know he didn't mean anything. He was just talking about..." he blushed at the reminder of Peter leaning into his body and running his hands over his biceps. He tried to forget the feeling of his skin, but Venom liked to play it over and over again in his head until it was his own brand of torture, "He just said that he, you know, likes me. Likes me, likes me. And that he, uh...wanted to kiss me," Flash coughed into his fist at this, "And that he wanted me to show him how to get jacked."
MJ rolled her eyes, expression equal parts fond and exasperated, "Of course he did."
"Yeah, that sounds about right," Harry laughed.
"But look, I know he didn't mean any of it. He was drunk and he probably wasn't even sure who he was talking to, so I'm not holding it against him. It's just been...kind of awkward, I guess."
MJ and Flash shared another look. It struck Flash as different, like he was missing the main point in his own argument. He scowled, looking between the two, "What?"
"You don't think he meant it?" Harry asked slowly, as if making sure.
Flash shrugged, "Of course not. He'd been drinking Asgardian liquor all night. He was slammed. He couldn't walk without falling over his own feet and he wouldn't stop playing with the spikes on my armor. Besides, he was spouting a lot of weird stuff, and I know how much alcohol can...you know, affect people."
Harry looked like he wanted to say something else but MJ held up a hand. She was looking at Flash very carefully now, like he was a particularly hard equation that needed solving.
"I really think you should talk to Pete," she said.
We agree, Venom piped up, rather unhelpfully.
Even the thought made Flash's stomach flutter and he shook his head, "No. Why? What do we need to talk about? We're fine. Peachy-keen."
"You guys can't even look at each other, Flash."
"So..."
"So, you need to talk to him and he needs to talk to you. Do you want things to be awkward between you two all the time?"
Flash shuffled his stack of papers, mumbling quietly, "No. I guess not..."
"I didn't think so. Just talk to him, okay. You'll both feel better."
He gave a flimsy nod, unable to look her in the eye. As an extra incentive she leaned in close and added, "And if you don't, I'm telling Peter about all those self-insert Spider-Man fanfictions you wrote."
Flash's back snapped so straight he felt a pop. "What?" he squeaked.
"Every single one of them, including the fan art."
Flash shot to his feet as MJ turned to the door, "I didn't draw those, they were gifted from readers!" he babbled, "Come on MJ, I was 17 you can't hold those against me."
"I won't if you talk to him," she shot over her shoulder.
Harry was looking at Flash wide-eyed, "You wrote Spider-Man fanfiction?"
Flash collapsed back in his chair.
"Do you have links?"
He banged his head on the desk.
MJ's threat stood true.
She sent him links to those very fanfictions, with a devil emoji and everything, and Flash immediately called Peter. It was tense and awkward, even over the phone, but Peter agreed to the meet-up.
They settled on a favored cafe.
The Silver Spoon had always been a popular hang-out for the Midtown High populace, and it was just as homey and familiar as all the other times he'd gone there as a teenager.
Flash found a corner booth and squeezed inside. Venom was hiding as a black shirt today, but kept trying to peep out of it to get a better look at the place that was highlighted so fondly in Flash's memories. Flash had to keep pushing it out of sight before he was kicked out for being in possession of an alien-like goop thing. They had a no-pets policy and Flash wasn't sure how that translated over to symbiotes.
He ordered himself a coffee while he waited and then a sandwich as an afterthought. Peter was running late, but Flash expected as much. Appreciated it, actually. It gave him time to scramble together something to say for when he did arrive.
15 minutes later, Peter was running in, hair messed, face flushed, and clothes wrinkled. "There was a mugging," he said in explanation as he slid into the booth. Flash raised an eyebrow. "And a break-in. And maybe a very small car chase, but that's beside the point," Peter waved his hand as if to physically brush his excuses to the side, "What did you want to talk about?"
Flash was pretty sure he knew, particularly because Peter was rubbing the pad of his two middle fingers against the palm of his hand. Something he did whenever he was scared or anxious, like he was preparing to throw a web.
"Uh, yeah," Flash said, straightening up. "Yeah, um...we need to talk."
Peter nodded slowly, clicking his tongue, "Okaaaay."
"Okay."
They tapered off into silence.
"So-" Flash started at the same time Peter said, "Well-" and they both stopped, and then laughed.
Thankfully, they were interrupted by the waitress coming back and sliding Flash his orders. He took the coffee but slid the plate over to Peter, who looked down at it in surprise.
"Thought you might be hungry," Flash said, blowing on the steaming liquid in his mug.
"Thanks," Peter said, happily digging in, "I am."
On the one hand, it made something warm glow in Flash's chest to see Peter smile like that, eyes bright and cheeks flushed pleasantly as he took a bite, but on the other hand, that meant Flash had to get this conversation going now that Peter was busy eating.
Venom squirmed in response to Flash's anxiety and he shifted his butt in his seat, tapping his finger on the table.
"So, we need to talk," he repeated lamely and Peter nodded, bent over the plate so he didn't get crumbs everywhere. "So um, about what happened the other night. You know, when you were...not yourself."
Peter's cheeks pinked at that but he hid it behind a well-timed cough. He swallowed the bite in his mouth, though it looked like it didn't go down easy. "Yeah," he said, "I guess we should talk about that." He looked about as awkward as Flash felt.
Before Peter could go on, Flash sighed. He might as well just rip the bandaid off. "Look," he said, "Don't...don't worry about it, okay. I know you were really drunk and not in your right mind. I know you didn't mean any of it, so we don't need to hang on it, alright. It was just a long, silly night - no hard feelings, I promise. I just...don't want things to be so awkward between us anymore."
It already took him so long to get on the level he was at with Peter right now, he didn't want to land right back on square one after years of making amends for their early rocky relationship.
Peter stared at him in surprise. The words sank in slowly, and a peculiar expression flitted across his face. Flash wasn't quite sure what to make of it. "You didn't think I was being serious?"
Flash shrugged, "I mean, you were pretty slammed. You were saying a lot of weird stuff, and I figured," he shrugged again, more helplessly, and rubbed the back of his neck, "I just kind of figured maybe you were feeling..."
"Horny?" Peter asked at the same time Flash said "Lonely," and Flash quickly took a long sip of his coffee as Peter promptly shoved half of the sandwich in his mouth, wide-eyed and looking mortified.
"Or that," Flash squeaked, and cleared his throat, "But - but don't worry," he added hurriedly, "I'm not going to hold that against you. I mean, we all kind of...it's nothing to be ashamed of or anything...just - I won't hold it against you. It's fine. I blame the alcohol more than you, so..." he trailed off again.
Flash expected Peter to look relieved, or at least happy to get off easy - but instead he looked oddly troubled. His shoulders dropped and his fingers picked at the crust of his sandwich.
"I-" he started, but it tapered off. He shifted in his seat, sitting closer up to the table like he was hyping himself up. Flash sat up straighter, curious now, and maybe even a little eager. Peter was struggling with the words though, his eyes trailed down as he bit at his lip in thought.
Flash tried not to focus too much attention to those lips, but it was a hard feat to do. Especially the way Peter was biting them. He took a long sip of his coffee to distract himself.
"It wasn't just the alcohol," Peter finally blurted, eyes flitting from the table, to Flash, then back to the table. "The things I said, it wasn't the alcohol."
"Oh," Flash blinked, "Did you take something else?" His eyes widened and he clutched the edge of the table, leaning forward, "Did you do drugs?!"
"What?" Peter recoiled, "No. No, I didn't do drugs, that's not what I'm saying."
Flash exhaled in relief. That was good. He never pegged Peter - Spider-Man - as the type to do drugs, and even so, Flash himself has always been averse to them. Couldn't compete in sports if you were drugged out of your mind after all.
Peter swiped the air frantically, as if to get rid of the last few minutes, "Okay, okay, just...no I didn't do that. What I'm saying is," he gestured with both hands, as if trying to point something specific out to Flash, "I...kind of, maybe, sort of...meant what I said."
Flash blinked, "You mean like-"
Peter nodded, though his face was starting to flush red, "Yes...kind of. Um...I was drunk, like seriously drunk, and I'm not denying that. If anything, that was what probably got me to actually get up and admit my - uh - feelings. Yeah, just..." he coughed in his fist, "Liquid courage and all that. MJ said I should just say something, but you can't just SAY something like that, right? I mean, it's weird. N-not that it's weird liking you, I mean it's just weird talking about feelings. Not that people shouldn't talk about their feelings, I just don't have a good track record with these kinds of things, and I'm not really good at this, and I think it's kind of obvious," he laughed nervously, one hand threading through his hair. "Heh, where's a villain attack when you need one, right?"
"Wait, wait, wait-" Flash waved his hands in the air, "Hold on. Let me just...clear it up. You," he pointed at Peter, "like me?" That pesky feeling of hope was creeping into his heart now and it only fluttered faster when Peter nodded. It was like a shrapnel bomb of happiness in his chest, igniting him with a warmth that belonged on toasty winter days in front of a fire.
But there was something else. Something dark and gloomy that took over just as quickly that had Flash's shoulders falling. He looked up at Peter, expression sad, "Why?"
Peter gave him a weird look, "Why what?"
"Why would you like me? That doesn't make any sense. I - this is me we're talking about. Why would you like me? You're you."
"And you're you, and me thinks you're pretty neat," Peter clarified, leaning forward on the table. His shoulders fell a little too as a new thought came to him, "I -I mean, if you don't like me back, I get it. Feelings not reciprocated, that's cool That's...that's fine. I don't blame you. It's uh," he leaned back in his chair, suddenly embarrassed. "If you want to stay friends."
"No. No," Flash reached across the table to grab his hand, "That's just it. Our friendship. Even that doesn't make sense to me. I just...I don't understand why. I was...I was horrible to you, and you just...I don't understand how you could have feelings back."
"Feelings back?" Peter repeated, and his eyes lightened, "Wait, so you do like me?" Then the other words registered and his mouth fell open in understanding, "Oh you're talking about..."
"Yeah."
"About all those times you-"
"Yes."
"And the swirlies and locker-knocker time?"
Flash covered his face with his hands. "Yes, those."
It was silent for a few seconds and when Flash peaked through his fingers, Peter's expression had softened and he was smiling. He grabbed his backpack, which was plopped on the seat next to him, and stood up. "Come on," he said, throwing a few bills on the table to pay for their food - Flash was surprised he'd remembered his wallet at all - "Let's go for a walk."
Flash took a final guzzle of his coffee and followed him wordlessly. It was nippy outside, the chill of a storm on the horizon, but Venom easily regulated his body temperature to accommodate. Peter huddled in the jacket he'd brought, pulling it tight around him. He gestured with his head, "Come on, I think we need to talk."
"Isn't that what we were doing in there?"
"Yeah, but it's crowded in there and stuffy and I don't like the idea of people eavesdropping. Central Park isn't far from here, plenty of room to openly chat."
Flash couldn't argue with that and followed him down the street. They walked side-by-side, not talking, but it wasn't very awkward either. Flash let himself relax and enjoy the other man's company. Peter was smiling to himself, arms swaying a little even though they were stuffed in his jacket pockets.
Despite the clouds brewing above the building tops, it was a pleasant day. Flash smiled as well, enjoying the cool wind on his face. Being outside, and not cooped inside a cafe, was doing wonders to his nerves - he felt better already, and he wondered if that was why Peter suggested the location change.
They entered the park and followed one of Aunt May's favorite roller-blading trails.
"I wasn't so sure I liked you at first," Peter finally admitted, keeping his eyes on his feet. Flash glanced at him once, but kept his eyes fixed ahead as well.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. I was confused, I guess. Thought I just enjoyed how much you admired me - or, well, how much you admired Spider-Man. It was kind of nice to have someone who just...supported me no matter what anyone else said. For the longest time I thought that was the only reason I felt the way I did, and that wasn't very fair to you. To use you as my own personal ego-boost, I mean."
"Oh..." Flash grimaced, looking up at the sky, "But that...wasn't the case?"
Peter smiled, "No, that wasn't the case. I was still super weirded out, though. Like you said, we have a bit of a history. Thought there was something wrong with me for liking the guy who used to bully me."
Flash's shoulders sank next to his heart, "Yeah."
But Peter bumped shoulders with him, his smile kind, "Yeah, but that's when I realized something else. You're not a bully anymore, and I'm not some smartass kid getting shoved in a locker. We're adults now. We've grown past that. We've...changed. Both of us, I think. For the better."
"What did you need to change," Flash scowled, "I was the one shoving you into lockers."
Peter hummed, not exactly disagreeing, but said, "I have my own issues I've grown from. Besides, I wasn't exactly the nicest to you as Spider-Man either. All those times I left you waiting in those lockers? Or brushing you off? Yeah, that was kind of intentional," he winced, "Sorry about that by the way."
Flash shrugged, "Eh, I deserved it." It had hurt his feelings though, waiting there in the dark for Spider-Man to come back for him. But once he realized who it was behind the mask it all sort-of made sense. It was a complicated mix of emotion.
"Sorry about...everything," Flash said, "All those things I did to you in high school. I wasn't exactly the nicest guy."
"But you're a lot better now," Peter said, matter-of-factly, "Just the other day you helped that little ol' granny across the street. And I saw you talking to that little boy after the fire a few weeks back. It was really sweet."
Flash blushed, ducking his head, "It was nothing."
"It was something and it was great. Really great. I just..." Peter looked down at his feet, "I realized how much you've grown. You're not picking on people anymore. You've always been a team-player, and it really shows at the Academy. You're a natural born leader. I just...I guess it's grown on me."
Flash pinked at the praise.
"But," Peter added, "There is something I need to know before we go one. Just so we're all clear here, do you like me?"
Flash blinked, "Yes. I thought we covered that."
"No, I mean do you like me as me? Or do you like me as Spider-Man?"
That...was a question. It was true Flash had a crush on Spider-Man for the longest time, long before he ever found out Peter and his idol were one in the same. But finding out they were the same person? That had been a shock. It had taken weeks for Flash to come to full terms with it. His feelings had gotten complicated - equal parts awe, guilt, wonder, and shame. To think that he's been picking on his hero for years and never knew.
The line between Peter and Spider-Man was so distinct at first. Something Flash had a hard time seeing side-by-side, but the more time he spent with Peter and Spider-Man, the more those lines blurred together until there was only one picture.
"You," Flash said, "Both of you. You're the same person. I like you as you."
Flash couldn't help but think he'd given the right answer as Peter smiled, looking as though he'd won a million dollars. Right answer or not, that was how he felt. It was no longer just Peter or just Spider-Man. It was both of them. Flash loved joking and spending time with Peter just as much as he loved fighting crime and training with Spider-Man. Maybe if he'd actually tried hanging out with Peter in high school, they could've had this talk a lot sooner.
"And I like you as you," Peter said, his arms swinging a little happier at his sides.
They came to a stop next to a small pond and watched it ripple as the wind picked up. It wasn't bad enough to warrant finding cover, but maybe they should soon. Neither of them had brought an umbrella.
Peter sighed and sat down on one of the benches, watching a small family of ducks gathering together, following their mama back to their nest. Flash sat next to him, wishing he were close enough to feel his warmth. As if reading his mind, Peter inched closer so they're legs were pressed together.
"So, do you wanna try?" Peter asked.
Flash blinked, "Try what?" his eyes went to the water, "Swimming? It's a little cold for that."
Peter rolled his eyes, "No, not swimming, do you want to try...us?" He peeled his eyes away to look at Flash. His fingers wrung together nervously.
"You mean like dating?"
"Yeah. I'm...I'm free Friday night if you wanna catch a movie or something. Or do something else, I-" he ducked his head, rubbing the back of his neck, "I don't know, I'm not the best at this."
Flash leaned forward eagerly, "No, that would be great! I mean...I'd - I'd like that, if you want to."
"I think I want to."
They shared a smile that's interrupted by a crack of lightning that draws both their eyes.
"I guess that's our cue to go," Peter said. Flash stood up, offering his arm. His heart fluttered nervously, Peter only just asked him out, maybe he was acting too forward? Was offering your arm something you do on the actual date? Or should he wait?
Peter didn't seem to mind and nodded his head politely. "Why thank you," he said and took Flash's arm. Venom must've been letting Peter's body heat in again, because Flash feels the warmth of his arm and delights in it. They're about to head out when Peter pulls something out of his backpack.
Flash had been wrong. He had brought an umbrella.
"MJ thought it might rain," Peter shrugged, opening it and holding it above both of their heads "And what can I say?"
"She's usually right," they say at the same time, sharing a smile.
They huddled together under the umbrella as the rain began to pour, but to Flash, it could do nothing to staunch the warmth of Peter Parker's hand.