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Tap-tap-tap.
Flash groaned, keeping his eyes shut tight.
Tap-tap-tap.
Although it was awfully persistent, Flash ignored it, and pulled the closest pillow over his head.
Knock-knock-knock.
The sound was definitely being made on purpose, there's no way it wasn't. Someone or something, in the dead of night, was making the sound.
Reluctantly, Flash put the pillow aside. He sat up and rubbed at his eyes, finally moving over to the side of his bed to put his bare feet on the cold, wooden floor. He made his way over to the window where the noise was coming from. It was probably some stupid bird banging its face on his window again. Stupid birds and their stupid eyesight.
Flash stretched, arms reaching above his head as he got closer to the window until he saw it. Or, rather, him. Flash froze, arms still stretched above him awkwardly. It was Spider-Man. The real Spider-Man, red suit and all, silhouetted by the moonlight. Flash was suddenly conscious about how ridiculous he looked, with his arms hovering above his head and his mouth halfway open in what was once a yawn. He quickly shut his mouth, and felt his cheeks warm as he put down his arms. He walked the last few steps over to his window hastily, and opened it without hesitating. Flash leaned against the now opened window with his arms crossed, hoping it made him look cool. Nice save, Flash.
"Hey, Spider-Man. What are you doing here?" Flash asked, deepening his voice to sound a tad more suave. (Not that he wasn't already. In fact, Flash liked to think he was super cool and suave when he needed to be.)
"Hey, Flash, sorry for waking you," Spider-Man wheezed. Flash didn't know what was up, but he could immediately tell something was off. Maybe it was because of Spider-Man's shortened breaths, or the way he seemed to sway.
"It's fine but... Spider-Man, are you... Are you drunk?" Flash asked it with a hint of skepticism, because he really didn't want to believe it, but all signs seemed to point towards the neighborhood hero being hammered. The slurred speech, the swaying back and forth, the shaking hand that gripped the side of the window, and yet... Something just wasn't adding up in Flash's mind.
"What? No! I'm not drunk, Flash, why would you think that?" Spider-Man asked, and seemed to crack a bit of a smile. Not that Flash could ever know for sure, since, from what he's seen, Spider-Man hardly ever took of his mask.
"It's because you're acting all-" Flash immediately stopped his train of thought when he saw it. Blood was cascading out of Spider-Man's side and trickling down the hand he was using to apply pressure to the wound. "Holy shit," Flash cursed, "you're bleeding!"
Spider-Man laughed, and it was an awful, wheezing sound. "No shit, Sherlock," he said sarcastically.
Flash ignored the weak attempt at lightening the mood in exchange for freaking the hell out. "Come inside!" He demanded.
"At least ask me out to dinner first," Spider-Man joked again, but did what Flash told him to.
"I've- I've got, uhm..." Flash racked his brain for what he would need in such a situation. He was normally good at these sorts of things. First-Aid just seemed to come naturally to him. Except this was an unusual circumstance, because it was Spider-Man. It's not everyday that an injured Spider-Man showed up perched on one's window. "Bandages!" He said, "just, uhm, give me a minute. I'll be right back."
Flash darted off to the nearest bathroom, which just so happened to be conjoined to his bedroom. Ah, the pleasures of being rich. He grabbed every medical instrument he could think of. Bandages, hydrogen peroxide, towels, a fresh bowl of water...
Once Flash had everything he thought would be necessary, he made his way back to Spider-Man.
"You're going to have to, uh, remove the top part of your suit." Flash said. "You know, so I can-"
"Yeah, I've got it. No problem." Spider-Man said, and began gently removing the top half of his suit. He was careful not to graze his side as he let it slip off his shoulders and fall until it hung around his waist.
Now Spider-Man stood in all his glory in front of Flash, nude from his waist up to his neck where he still wore his mask. Flash felt his cheeks burn, and he had to shake himself in order for him to focus on the task at hand. It was comfortably silent as he began by dipping one of the towels into the water and used it to clean up some of the blood dripping from Spider-Man's side. As he did so, he noticed that some of the features on Spider-Man's chest were eerily familiar. There was a small scar over Spider-Man's heart, and another just above his belly button. Now that Flash considered it, the scars weren't the only thing familiar about Spider-Man. His voice, for one thing. Flash knew that voice from somewhere! If only he could figure out who it reminded him of. There was also the fact that he knew...
"Hey, Spider-Man, can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"How do you know my name's Flash? And how do you know where I live?" Spider-Man froze immediately upon hearing the questions. And, yeah, now that Flash thought about it, it was really strange that Spider-Man knew these things.
"Uh, the... The Washington Monument! I was there when that freak accident happened, remember? I saved you and all those other students in the elevator. I remembered you from then, and, uh, I know where you live because a friend told me you were good at first aid. Even though It did take me a while to find your room, because your house is huge!" Then, it clicked.
"So you really are friends with Peter Parker." It all made sense. Of course Parker would tell Spider-Man if he knew anyone good at first-aid. Since he really was friends with Spider-Man, it was only logical for him to let him know where to get help during emergency situations. It was such a Peter Parker thing to do that Flash nearly smiled.
"What makes you think that?" Spider-Man asked cautiously, and grew tense.
"He's the only one, other than my parents, who knows I'm good at first-aid." Flash said, matter-of-factly, and it was the whole truth. Spider-Man nodded once sharply and seemed to relax.
"Do you want to be a doctor or an EMT or something?" Spider-Man asked, testing the waters. Flash grinned, glad to finally have someone to talk with about his dreams. He would've talked to Parker about it, but they're not really friends, especially not at school where just about anyone could judge Flash for who he hangs out with.
"Yeah, a doctor. It's always been my dream to save lives. Sort of like what you do." Flash said, and Spider-Man seemed to smile. "I'm going to have to put some hydrogen peroxide on that if it's gonna heal," Flash said, gesturing to Spider-Man's side. "It looks infected, so I think it's necessary, but it's going to hurt like a bitch, so brace yourself."
Spider-Man nodded and took in a breath as Flash proceeded to dab a hydrogen-peroxide covered towel onto the wound. Impressively, Spider-Man didn't even flinch or make any sound at all that would indicated he was in pain. Once again, Flash had the weirdest feeling of déjà vu, as if he has been in this exact situation before.
"So... does this happen often?" Flash asked.
"Actually, no." Spider-Man said. "By now my quick healing powers normally kick in, but I guess that whatever disgusting thing that criminal hit me with did something to throw my powers out of balance, haha."
"You have super-speedy healing powers?" Flash asked in excitement.
"Yeah, I do. They're pretty kick-ass." Spider-Man said. He laughed and Flash chuckled right alongside him. Flash started to wrap the wound with bandages and noted somewhat regretfully that soon Spider-Man would have to leave. He had come to enjoy the light banter they had seemingly built in a matter of only a few short minutes. "You know, you're pretty cool, Flash." Flash felt his cheeks warm at the compliment, and he ducked his head to hide the stupid smile that he couldn't hold in. It might be the nicest thing that anyone's ever said to him.
"Thanks, Spider-Man. You too. I mean really, really cool. You're the coolest." Flash shut his mouth before he embarrassed himself any further. "Anyways, I'm all done, but be sure to get some rest and take it easy. You've lost a lot of blood." Flash said as he stepped away from Spider-Man before he could do anything dumb. Like squeeze his shoulder... Or caress his masked face.
"Thanks, Flash, I will, and I really appreciate it. Sorry again for barging in and waking you up." Spider-Man said as he pulled up the top half of his suit and began to dress himself.
"It's totally fine! You didn't barge in, I invited you. And you can wake me up anytime... I- I mean-" Spider-Man laughed lightly as Flash scratched his ear nervously.
"I know what you mean." Spider-Man said, now fully dressed in his suit again. "I'll be sure to do that, but I should probably get going. Y'know, crime-fighting."
"Yeah, of course," Flash said, "I'll see you later, Spidey." He felt like a dork as he said it, but wanted to test out the nickname. This time Flash knew for sure that Spider-Man was smiling wide under his mask.
"See you later... Flashy." Spider-Man said and gave him finger-guns as he stepped over the windowsill. Flash couldn't tell if he was teasing or flirting. Probably both. "I'll be sure to tell Peter you say 'Hi'." He said, and then leapt from the window. Just like that, Spider-Man had vanished into the night.
It didn't register until minutes later, after Flash had cleaned up the medical supplies and had gotten back into bed, that Spider-Man was going to tell Parker he said 'Hi'.
Well, shit.
That was going to be an awkward conversation.