Chapter Text
flash doesn’t remember when his thoughts on peter parker entered “crush” territory, but he knows he hates that. he wants to hate peter. he’s so quietly funny, unknowingly cute, effortlessly smart, and overall just an obnoxiously likable person. flash would love nothing more than to hate him, or even just be able to write this hot swirly feeling off as jealousy, but he knows better.
that’s also a lie. flash doesn’t know anything. he doesn’t know how to cope with the fact he likes a boy, how to talk, how to flirt. he didn’t go to the same schools as peter before- his dad sent him to some rich private middle school, peter went to public schools. freshman initiation at midtown tech was the first time flash saw peter, and he wanted to be peter’s friend. peter didn’t really hang out with many people outside of decathalon, just some chubby guy named ned, and they always talked about star wars. flash liked star wars too, but he just didn’t know how to talk to them.
there was one thing flash knew how to do. in his old private schools, he was always seen as painfully average. rich but not the richest, smart but not the smartest. it was eat or be eaten and he quickly picked up the habit of tearing others down. track and bullying, the two things he actually excelled at.
-
the first time flash made fun of peter for some stupid star wars pin on his backpack in late freshman year, the whole table laughed. peter’s eyes filled with hurt and embarrassment, but he said nothing. flash wishes peter had called him a dick or an asshole, or asked to be left alone, that would’ve felt better than that kicked puppy look that made flash want to apologize immediately. he felt bad. but he didn’t say anything.
there was one time when he very nearly said something. when peter was gone from school one day, ned came up and cornered flash outside the gym.
“i don’t even know why i’m bothering to tell you this,” ned hissed. “but peter’s uncle just died. they were really close and peter is super upset and if you say anything and make him feel worse-“
“woah, hey,” flash protested, trying to push ned away in a calm and nonthreatening manner. “are you joking? come on, i- i would never sink that low.”
ned raised his eyebrows but said nothing, and flash tried not to feel offended since he had no right to be. the thought of peter was more important right now. flash knew something was weird with parker’s parents, but he had no clue he lived with his aunt and uncle. definitely didn’t think that his uncle was near death, either.
“is... is peter gonna be okay?” flash asked slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. “like obviously this isn’t good, but—“
“why do you care?” ned asked, sounding both defensive and actually curious. flash just shrugged and looked somewhere far away that wasn’t ned. the silence was awkward and long until ned shook his head. “whatever. just don’t be a dick, alright flash?”
of course not, he thought as ned walked away. peter didn’t go back to school for two days, and flash could barely stand to look at him when he did. poor peter just looked so sad, not speaking or joking around in class as usual.
flash wanted to say something, do something even; some sort of gesture for peter that might make him feel even a little bit better. unfortunately they didn’t make cards that said “sorry your uncle died. also i’m sorry i bully you all the time but i swear i don’t mean it.”
he never mentioned it or talked to peter about it, but he definitely laid off for a while. peter was the first to say something again, though flash can’t remember what. it was in english and it was actually probably an insult, but he was smiling when flash met his eyes. flash smiled back and definitely didn’t think about it for the rest of the day, and week, and whenever he was spacing out in class.
-
sophomore year wasn’t much different. flash still liked to make fun of peter, yet the two of them almost hung out, or so flash liked to think. they had a lot of the same classes and were still on decathalon together. peter was smarter than flash and flash started calling him penis parker.
there was one moment. an almost moment, a brief connection between the two teens that flash probably thought about too much. after one particularly rowdy decathlon meeting, abraham invited them over to his house for a bit. flash pretended to only consider it, but he already texted his mom that he was going to a friends house.
everyone was in the backyard under the gazebo, smiling and joking around and eating chips and guac, and flash excused himself to run inside for another soda. in the soft patio lights, peter looked truly at ease. happy. pretty. flash felt weird watching him and his mouth and his hair and his hands, so he got back to finding cups to take outside.
“jeez, flash, i thought you were fast,” a voice came from behind him, and flash turned to see that peter had entered the kitchen. “or do you like snooping around houses?”
“ha ha,” flash said sarcastically. “what are you looking for? abe’s kitchen is full of everything except what’s being looked for apparently, so good luck.”
peter hummed and kept looking in the pantry, muttering a quiet “aha!” and coming back out with a box of cosmic brownies. he grinned and started opening the box immediately, pulling out a pack and raising his eyebrows to flash. “split it with me?”
“sure,” let’s get married. they split the brownie and looked back out the window at the get together quietly.
“you know,” peter started. “i bet you act like you hate us more than you actually do.”
“oh that’s what you think?” flash scoffed, truly fighting away a grin. peter definitely noticed anyways.
“i know it,” peter insisted smugly. he elbowed flash, who elbowed him away a bit harder. it was a mess in his brain– no matter how much he wanted peter in his life, the thought of peter actually knowing how he felt was too terrifying. he tried to glare at peter but he wasn’t sure it worked because peter still had the ghost of a smile on his face.
they walked back outside and flash tried very hard to be... normal. he was nice, held back needless mean comments, he even called peter by his name. still, he could feel the others wariness, the dislike. when he drove home, he definitely didn’t think about what peter said.
-
flash learned from a young age what was okay and what wasn’t in the thompson house. it was okay to be athletic, but it wasn’t okay to get bad grades. it wasn’t okay for boys to like other boys. his dad yelled at the television when gay marriage was legalized, something about faggots that flash didn’t hear because he shut his bedroom door and turned his music up louder.
it wasn’t okay to get grades below a B, but B’s weren’t really okay either. A’s were expected, B’s were met with discontent glares and comments about laziness or lack of focus, and everything else was met with harsh words and harsher hands. in class it was easy to act nonchalant about a 79 on a test, but at home he hid his grades and avoided the topics until of course his dad found out. then there was a much higher price to pay than just a possibly lowered GPA.
he knew it wasn’t okay to talk without being talked to when his dad worked a hard day. he knew it wasn’t okay to talk about his sister celia anymore. it’s okay to use the car, because malcom knows that his sons popularity is important. it makes them look good if they look richer.
working out is always okay. flash might’ve seemed scrawny, but he worked up muscle. it helped a lot- he could play on teams more, run longer, and whenever his dad came home drunk or angry he felt less weak. he could protect his mom more.
flash didn’t like his house much.
-
one time somebody at school called flash gay. he had just thrown out his lunch and was putting his earbuds in to walk to class, when somebody shouted “hey fag thompson!” for some unknown reason. people nearby laughed heartily and flash put on a sneer, ignoring the way the back of his neck began to burn.
weird girl from decathlon, michelle something, caught his eye as he walked away. she wasn’t exactly sitting with peter and ned, but they were at the same table, and the two boys were obviously pretending not to notice what just happened. michelle however was meeting his eyes with a loaded look, a cocktail of understanding and sadness and sympathy. it pissed flash off.
that afternoon at decathlon practice, michelle plopped herself in the seat next to him without a word. she pulled out her sketchbook and flipped through it for a second before smirking when she found what she was looking for.
she shoved it into his lap. “that’s you.”
he shot her a wary glare before looking down at the page and seeing that it was, in fact, a messy sketch of him. there were little hearts doodled in his eyes as he looked at something off the page.
“thanks,” he muttered. “why did you do that, you some kinda stalker?”
“i like to draw people in crisis.”
flash scoffed again. “i’m not having any kind of crisis.”
michelle snorted and flash pushed the sketchbook back at her. “are you trying to tell that to me or yourself?”
“who do you think you are?” he snapped, suddenly feeling cornered despite michelle not moving at all. “you don’t know anything, alright weirdo? so back off.”
he stormed out of the room without saying anything else, slinging his bag over his shoulder. flash wasn’t in a crisis. there wasn’t anything wrong. he had his life under control.
“flash!”
just the sound of peter’s voice set off a chain of emotion in flash’s brain, and he turned to round on peter quickly. he stepped closer and closer without noticing until peter was backed up against the lockers, looking afraid.
“what? what the hell do you want?” he tried not to yell, because part of him knew this anger was misplaced. he heard peter’s converse squeak on the floor as he shifted uncomfortably.
“are- are you okay?” peter stammered. “flash, whatever is up, you—“
“nothing is up, penis parker,” flash spat. hurt flashed in peter’s eyes but this time flash really was too upset to notice. “so why don’t you go bother someone else?”
peter’s eyes narrowed and he huffed, shaking his head and looking away. “fine, flash. fine. have a nice day.”
the words were cutting, and the silence of the hallway after peter pushed flash back and stormed away was deafening. flash balled his hands into fists and ran all the way to his car, leaning his head on the steering wheel to catch his breath and wipe the back of his arm over his watery eyes. he then pulled out a pen and piece of paper from his bag, staring at it hard before trying to be honest with himself.
1. i am
1. i like
1. peter parker
1. i want
he cussed loudly balled up the paper and threw it out the window before driving himself home.