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Peter is quick to jump to conclusions; he believes they are in love, and readily expresses his affections for their stoic Team Captain to all that are willing to listen. Michelle is more subtle; in that she dances around the notion of the two dating far to frequently. Nobody, other than Ned that is, seemed capable of grasping Michelle's impregnable need for utmost privacy. It got to the point where Flash is now oh so sure that Peter is delusional. Not that the resident self-proclaimed playboy needed much convincing in the first place. Flash may have willingly stanned time and again anything Spider-man related but he actively refused to acknowledge whatever was remotely going positive for Peter.
Such as the so-called Stark internship. Flash would rather eat his own custom Fedora than ever debase himself into believing the " so obvious" fib, so he had taken to mocking Peter whenever the situation presented itself.
Ah speak of the devil...
Flash spotted Peter's lanky frame next to the aluminium lockers right in the middle of wresting with the padlock, and his thoughts quickly shifted towards how ironic it was that he was below Peter's grade point average and yet the idiot still struggled to remember the combination on an almost daily basis. Flash halted in his steps and properly scanned the area and it was only after making sure that neither Michelle nor Ned were gravitating anywhere close to his person that, Flash thought with a growing smirk, did his hazy plan seem like a pretty good opportunity to execute. Flash stalked over and slammed his closed fist on the locker a few feet away from him, and breathed in is panic. He relished that after all this time Peter still jumps, as if they had never danced this dance before.
"'Sup Parker!" he starts, and Peter stammers a greeting back before successfully cracking the lock open. He starts digging through the many items crammed into that tiny space and Flash barely has a chance to revert back to the glory days of whenever he and his fellow jocks would race to whoever manages to cram their chosen loser into the tiny space as a flyer for the Avengers floats towards the floor, landing next to his shiny black loafers. He eyes the familiar logo.. and suddenly comes up with another plan of action. "Say..." he says in his usual drawl. "How is Black Widow these days?" Flash may have dropped the previous vulgar moniker, but he was still a little shit whenever it came to anything concerning Peter.
Unfortunately for both, Natasha's demise had not been announced to the general public, and Peter's unbroken silence had even someone as emotionally constipated as Flash slowly growing apprehensive. It wasn't any fun when there was no resounding quip, at the very least a whine just so that he could know that his insult had landed, hook line and sinker.
"Cos you know..." Flash tried awkwardly after a beat, "Maybe you could put in a good word for me."
"..." A sniffle.
"H-hey Parker are you actually cry-" Flash, now having actually deigned to spare Peter a glance, froze. The empty look in his eyes was nothing new. Peter was frequently picked on in class precisely because of his absentmindedness; the caller usually hoped to catch him in the act of not paying attention and thereby expose him as a space case "at this prestigious school."
But this was different.
Flash had only seen that look on Peter once before - way back when he had returned after a leave of absence from school, fists tightly clenched around the straps of his backpack heavy on his tiny frame.
Rumors had circulated by and large till a majority had finally put two and two together; his uncle had passed away.
Luckily for Peter, Michelle had chosen that exact moment to materialize as if from thin air next to the nerdlinger. On the other hand;
One glare.
That's it.
That's all it took to get him to gulp back any further remarks, and scurry away from the pair.
Outside, Flash huffs and angrily chucks his expensive leather bag to the back of his now personal Mercedes, slams the silver car door, and revs the engine once, twice before savagely reversing out of the school parking lot in the same fashion a primadonna who had been on the receiving end of some mildly distressing news would.
The next morning when he sees them, Peter has that big goofy-looking grin on his face. And perhaps what was more upsetting to Flash was Michelle's bold move to perpetuate Peter's deranged fantasy by holding his hand.
In a very public, very judgmental setting.
Flash had been in the metaphorical position of picking his jaw up from the dirty school floor when he noticed something else that almost had him retching his Zillion Dollar Lobster Frittata.
After finishing off their quips, Michelle smiled, and it wasn't even one of those smiles that she readily proffered to even him on occasion where they never seemed to reach her eyes.
This one was even complimented with a slight tilt of her head to her right; one could almost drown in the lingering affection wafting from that simple gesture.
That is to say if they managed to survive the sickly sweet sea of laughs garbling out of the munchkin next to her. He seemed to have been on some tirade about how pretty she looked today, and although she initially rebuffed him, she had subtly returned his affections, much to Peter's stammering pleasure.
Flash sighed and after selecting the books for the next three periods, slammed his locker door with a little extra 'oomph' before securing it shut. He quietly shuffled off to his first class.
He let out one final sigh as he settled at his usual desk, still in ample view of the couple, only separating to stumble to their assigned seats.
Sometimes, life was just not that fair.