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1. The first time, Flash was in high school, and it was bizarre . Not just Spider-Man flirting (Was it flirting? How can you tell?) with him, but the entire situation. He was pretty sure Doctor Doom confused him with the real Spider-Man, which is a testament to the quality of his handmade suit more than anything, but he couldn’t spend too much time being proud about that because Doom was calling him an “insolent upstart” (he didn’t know what either of those words meant) and threatening to kill him (he does know what that means, thank you very much). Doom had just begun another, rant, and it sounded like it was shaping up to be a long one, when Spidey swooped in, all quips and confidence. He picked up Flash in a bridal carry like he weighed nothing, and, pressing his webshooter, thwipped the two of them right out of the building.
“So, blue-eyes,” Spidey grinned, amusement laced in his tone, “how does a good-looking guy like you end up as a captive of Doctor Doom?”
Flash could tell they were headed towards his apartment, and he didn’t want Spidey to come in, just in case his dad was home, so a little more petulantly than he intended, he asked Spidey to put him down. He could swear the wall-crawler waspouting under his mask as he retorted, “Leaving me so soon, hot stuff? And here I was getting all ready to propose.”
Flash grinned. Spidey’s the coolest superhero
ever
.
2. The second time, Flash wakes up in an alleyway, surrounded by trash cans.
“Parker?” he asks questioningly, but once his vision clears, he sees a familiar red and blue mask hovering over him nervously.
“P-Parker? No Parker here, who’s Parker? Never heard of ‘im.”
“Hey, Spidey!” Flash smiles beatifically, always enthused to see his favorite superhero, no matter the circumstances. “I don’t know; the last thing I remember was Parker holding me, and then I woke up here. What happened?”
“You’re gonna be alright. You just, uh, hit your head harder than expected. You should’ve woken up in a couple minutes, but it’s been almost three hours. I was worried about you.”
“You were?”
“Of course. Where would I be without my biggest fan?”
Flash blushed, and Spidey helped him to his feet.
“Think you can get home okay?”
“Sure I can. See ya around, Spidey!” Flash waved to the web-slinger’s retreating figure.
3. Flash woke up, groggy and confused, to see Spidey unstrapping him from a metal chair vaguely reminiscent of a medieval torture device.
“You’re a regular damsel in distress,” Spidey chuckled. “Careful, there’s a shortage of perfect faces in the world. It would be a pity to damage yours,” he said as he removed what looked like a miniature bomb from above Flash’s head. Flash was so distracted by the thought of potentially getting blown up and ruining his favorite orange pants with the black pinstripes that he almost missed Spidey’s comment. It wasn’t until later, staring at the ceiling of his bedroom, that he could spend more time thinking about what Spidey meant.
4. Spidey sighed as he picked up an unconscious Flash and swung away with him, threatening the freaky sun cult—or whatever they were—that if Flash was hurt, they wouldn’t like what happened.
“You’re my best friend, but you get knocked out more than any other person I know,” he said to an unconscious Flash. “Seriously, I’m not sure how you haven’t sustained permanent brain damage by this point. Good thing you’re pretty, so the brains don’t matter so much.”
5. Flash was barely conscious as Spidey rolled up the bottom of his rain-soaked mask to give him mouth to mouth CPR, but he was awake enough to hear him say, “You’ve accomplished a lot, you dumb jock. You’re just too thick to see it. You! War hero! Football hero! I’m talking to you!”
Flash fought to stay awake, but his eyelids felt heavier than lead and try as he might, he couldn’t stop them from closing. He fell into unconsciousness wondering how Spidey could care about a loser like him more than anyone else in the whole world did.
When Flash woke up, Spidey wasn’t there, but Peter and MJ were, radiant as always, and he didn’t really miss Spidey so much when they were there.
6.
Flash coughed and blood dribbled out of his mouth. He couldn’t seem to move his limbs. Spider-Man looked devastated.
“Hey,” Flash said, looking weakly up at him. “We both know you have to go. You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t.”
Even through the mask, Spidey looked desperate, frantic, trying to find a way to save everybody. He shouldn’t be so worried, Flash thought. Flash didn’t really want to die—he had Andi and Venom to look out for, after all—but if he had to go, dying in his best friend’s arms was as good a way as any.
Spidey resorted to the default jokiness he couldn’t help but use whenever he was in a situation he had no control over, tilting Flash’s head and saying “C’mon handsome, you gotta keep those blue eyes open. You wouldn’t want to miss our reservation, would you?”
“Sorry...Peter.”
