Chapter 11
"Oh my god. Flash. Flash look." He waited until Flash had turned away from crowd watching to point, and for Flash to follow his finger to explain. "That plane has ejector seats. Actual ejector seats. Like something from James Bond."
Flash nodded. "Yeah. It's in case something goes wrong with the plane, you can get out before it crashes."
Peter frowned. "You're no fun," he grumbled, lowering his arm and stuffing his hands in his pockets. With his hood up to protect him from the drizzle falling around them, Peter was the perfect image of a brooding teenager.
"I'm plenty fun," Flash objected with narrowed eyes.
Peter looked at him out of the side of his eyes. "You didn't think the plane painted like a tiger was cool," he accused.
Throwing his hands up, Flash said, "I never said that! All I said was I preferred the one that looked like Captain America's uniform."
"The tiger was cooler."
Flash groaned and ran a hand over his face. "You know, with your godfather so close to the guy, and you seeing him so often, I would've thought you'd like Captain America more."
A shrug. "I like him fine. He's a great guy," he admitted. "But that doesn't mean I want my jet to look like his suit. I'd rather be a tiger."
"Yeah. I bet you'd be just gggrrreeeaat at being a tiger," Flash said, sort of growling the word 'great.'
There was a moment a silence between the two men, and Peter's mouth parted slightly as he stared at Flash, and then Flash's face turned pink in delayed embarrassment. Peter couldn't hold it in. He laughed so hard he had to bend over for a minute.
"Shut up," Flash grumbled, his face growing pinker by the moment.
Peter shook his head. "I didn't expect a Tony the Tiger impression from you," he said, still giggling a bit. "You just don't seem the type to watch cereal commercials. Or eat cereal, actually."
Still pouting, Flash asked, "Oh yeah? And what does my 'type' eat then?"
Another shrug. "Protein shakes? Sausages? The money of billionaire scientists?"
That startled a laugh out of Flash and diffused any tension between them. Peter was glad for the lightened air. It had been just over a week since Flash saw Peter's bruising and, from Flash's own mouth, that meant Peter could go on outings again.
Flash had surprised him today by saying they were visiting the Intrepid Sea, Air, and Space Museum Complex. That meant walking around on top of and inside of an actual aircraft carrier that had been redesigned to host visitors and teach them about military technology, naval life, and space exploration in American history. There was also a pavilion for the space shuttle Explorer and a submarine called The Growler to check out.
They'd already looked at all the planes on the flight deck of the Intrepid – the one that looked like a one or two man version of the X-Jet that showed up on the news sometimes, the Blue Angels jet that made Flash want to attend an air show, the helicopters with shark teeth and angry eyes painted on them, and all the more traditionally painted planes, jets, and copters that made Peter think back to studying the world wars in high school.
Flash then led them back inside the Intrepid aircraft carrier to continue looking around. There were plenty of exhibits to see inside. Peter didn't care as much about the Intrepid's original bell or the other really really old gear that was on display as he did about the planes housed inside the ship that could fold their wings up.
"Like X-Wings!" he'd quietly cheered. Flash just stared at him blankly, which made Peter frown. "Don't tell me you haven't seen Star Wars. No one hasn't seen Star Wars."
"I saw the first one, with the Death Star," Flash said, shrugging. "It didn't seem like my thing."
Peter rolled his eyes. "You're a Spider-man fanboy. You love superheroes. That makes you a bit of a geek. Sort of. You need to watch the rest of the movies too. Even the crappy Attack of the Clones one."
He didn't get Flash to agree to watch anything. Instead, Flash pushed him toward a different exhibit to try and change the subject. Peter wouldn't forget though. No, he'd bring it up later, when Flash was least expecting it.
About that time, it hit him that this was a date. They were wandering the museum, teasing each other, and planning future dates. The air show. A movie marathon. They were flirting, even.
No, no it's not a date. We're not flirting, we're teasing. Friends tease. Friends hang out places. I don't care what Aubrey said, he thought to himself as they continued walking. It's not a date.
Flash liked the part of the Intrepid where you could see all the different instruments used in running the ship, where a recording of voices made it sound like the Intrepid was still receiving orders and messages. Peter liked it too, more because it was the driest and quietest place they'd been so far than because he was fascinated by how a naval ship worked. On the flight deck there were people chatting, wind, that constant drizzle that had started that morning, and the sound of traffic just across the visitors' entrance walkway. Inside the main hanger there was this humming noise, like an engine almost, and more of that chatter that never stopped. With his enhanced senses, all the noise could get overwhelming sometimes.
Though, he had to admit, it was interesting to learn how many boilers it took to power a ship like the Intrepid – eight, the worker said. Comparing that to modern ships, to Tony's flight suit and the S.H.I.E.L.D. air ships and arc reactor technology, made Peter's science brain salivate.
Then they went to the Space Shuttle Pavilion. It required going back outside to the flight deck, but they made a mad dash and got to the pavilion without getting too damp. Peter's first thought was that it was just very dark inside.
"I guess they want it to feel like we're in space or something," he mused aloud as they looked up at the massive vehicle of history that was the Enterprise space shuttle.
With a slight up quirk of his lips, Flash said, "Probably. Did you know they named this thing after the ship from Star Trek? And that a bunch of the cast of the show came out to see it lift off?"
Peter stared at Flash in open surprise. He'd known about the naming thing – it seemed obvious, to him at least, but not about the Star Trek cast. The longer Peter stared, the more uncomfortable Flash became.
"What? I read it somewhere. There was even a really old picture about it," he defended, hunching his shoulders.
Shaking his head, Peter rushed to assure him, "No no no. No, that's-I didn't know that."
"Yes you did," Flash accused with a frown.
"No. I really didn't. I mean, about the-the name, I did, but not about the lift off." He smiled. "That's really cool, Flash."
Flash still flushed, but this time from pride. A few minutes later, he looked straight-up like a preening peacock when they found an entire mural sized exhibit talking about the lift off and the cast. Peter let him have his moment. He actually let him have about five long moments before turning and walking away, which earned him a grunt of disapproval from Flash. It just made Peter grin.
It's not a date. It's not a date, he repeated in his mind despite the way his chest argued. It's not flirty, and this is not a date.
There were simulators at the museum too. Peter wanted to ride all three of them, but Flash wouldn't let him on the G-Force one.
"You're still healing," he said, and Peter couldn't help feeling like Aunt May was standing beside him. Nagging and yet caring a lot at the same time. But he couldn't exactly come out and tell Flash he was perfectly healed. He'd just have to do without the simulator.
Still, they both enjoyed the 4-D Theater and Peter got Flash into the Transporter FX before he could think too much on it and decide that that was too strenuous too. Ever the dutiful bodyguard, Flash did ask him multiple times afterward if he was okay, though.
The last thing they checked out was the British Airways plane. By that time it had stopped drizzling, but the sky was still very overcast, so they didn't get wet walking around outside again. They were both a little disappointed in the giant plane, since the rest of the museum complex was very military or very science and this was a passenger plane. Only two things really struck them about the plane.
"It's a lot….thinner than I expected," Peter said at one point. "They seem so…so big, when you fly in them."
"Wait, why's this say Rolls Royce? Was this plane made by Rolls Royce?" Flash asked a minute or so later. "Those are some expensive ass cars."
It wasn't until they were reentering Queens that Peter groaned. "We forgot to check out the submarine," he explained morosely. How had they missed it?!
Flash relaxed in his subway seat. "We'll just have to go back sometime, then."
The thought of going back to the Intrepid with Flash was a nice one. After they'd watched Star Wars, and maybe some Star Trek. After they'd attended an air show. Peter felt himself begin to blush and mentally shook himself. They weren't da-!
Flash grinned. "And next time, we'll ride the G-Force simulator too."
He held up his fist. Peter looked from it to Flash and back again. It was a rainy day in New York City. Peter had to pretend to still ache from wounds he'd healed from days ago. Still, he couldn't help but smile as he bumped his fist against Flash's. He was just really happy, and looking forward to more fun with Flash, no matter what nosy incorrect classmates said.
...
…
It was hard for Flash to imagine that Peter's chest had been black and blue just under two weeks ago. He kept trying to convince Peter to take it easy, but the photographer seemed determined to be active and reckless. For example, while he had been letting Flash keep him from extra activities like sports, Peter was still pretty rambunctious when it came to his photos. He ran into shoving crowds to get better views and, last week, twisted his torso almost backwards to get the best shot of some bikers moving through town with a police convoy. Flash was so focused on making sure Peter would "Stop. Just stop." that he didn't even remember what the convoy was for.
Still, for almost two weeks, Peter put up with Flash being more of a mother hen than he'd even known himself to be in the past. But one morning, Flash came to pick him up, and Peter had his skateboard.
"What is that?" Flash asked, motioning to the board. Peter opened his mouth, already starting to smirk, and Flash held his hand up to stop the comment. "I swear to God if you say 'a skateboard', I'm not speaking to you for the rest of the day."
"Party pooper," Peter complained and flipped the board in his hands. "I'm going to Flushing Meadows, to the skate park. I've done my healing, and I don't want to get rusty."
"Not a chance. Just because the most severe bruises have faded doesn't mean you should strain the muscles." Flash frowned when Peter rolled his eyes. "I'm serious, Peter. I don't want to see you turn yourself purple again."
With a groan of frustration, Peter dropped the board with one hand and grabbed the hem of his shirt. One quick yank later and he was showing off his full toned and firm torso. Over a foot of medium tan skin, bare of any mark or blemish, just perfect and smooth and inviting Flash to touch it. Wait. Back up.
"See?" Peter asked. "I'm fine. Not a mark on me. I'm healed. Now I'm going to the skate park. You can join or you can go home. Okay?"
Mind still trying to switch back from admiring the shade of Peter's skin and his impressive abs, Flash just frowned at first. Then Peter dropped his shirt and looked at him expectantly, and Flash was forced to get his shit together. "Yeah, alright. Fine. But don't do anything stupid."
Wow. If anyone was being stupid, it was him. What kind of comment was that? They were going to a skate park! Stupid tricks abounded and Peter was likely to fall off his board at least once or twice... statistically speaking. Nothing against Peter's skill. It was just expected.
They didn't call for a car, as they had for most of their other outings per Harry's request. Instead they just hopped the subway to Willets Point and walked the short ten minutes to the park. Peter was planning to skate every inch of the area, but Flash... not so much.
"Yeah, I don't skate," he said as they walked. "I'd faceplant as soon as I tried. But you can, what is it, grind? all the park benches you want."
Peter laughed. "The park is so much more than a couple of benches, Flash. Maloof is modeled after the five boroughs. Each section has rails and obstacles native to places skaters used to skate before the park was made... Or still skate, but you know... Anyway, it's like skating the whole of the city in an afternoon."
Well at least Peter was excited. The biggest draw for Flash was getting to see Peter skate. In all the time they'd hung out, Flash had never accompanied Peter to skate. He knew Peter still did it in his free time, and there had been at least one mention of Tony having installed a small indoor park at the tower for him, because why not, but Flash had never seen Peter skate firsthand.
So Peter went skating, and Flash, who had never been on a skateboard before in his life, stood quietly on the other side of the short wall and watched. He stayed out of the way of the other skaters but kept an eye on anyone rolling too close to Peter... or that Peter rolled too close to. Not that Flash could do anything about them if he wanted to. Not with a dozen skaters zipping around and with momentum on their side.
Mostly, though, his eyes were on Peter. The lithe skater's skin had been perfect, not the tiniest bruise left to show he'd been so injured. Sure, Flash had said to give the healing a week and it had been almost two, but to be that healed? It was a miracle.
After half an hour of Peter doing tricks with his board involving jumping and grinding and, in one case, just doing a handstand on the board, Peter skated close enough to Flash to give Flash a clear view of his grin and the sweat lightly beading on his face. And maybe it wasn't so bad that they came, because Peter looked exhilarated and free and more than a little beautiful, even if Flash tried not to think about it and failed.
In the JFK Banks, Peter did multiple tricks that included pausing his board on the ledge before dropping back in to do another trick, and on the last drop he used the momentum to ollie over the Amsterdam Ave ramps. Another skater zipped over the ramp like two seconds later and Flash wondered how the hell anyone managed to leave the park unscathed if they were that close to each other. Not that Peter seemed to mind. He even waved at the other skater and they gave each other a thumbs up.
Then Peter made his way back to the top of the park, did a kick-flip onto the Brooklyn Banks and stopped. In front of him was the longest rail in the park. It ran down nine stairs, but that didn't seem to faze Peter. He caught Flash's eye and made an excited hand motion at the rail. It was all Flash could do to wave him on encouragingly.
Peter, standing on his board, pushed off and gained speed, and then his board left the ground and he landed on the rail. His balance amazed Flash as he slid down the full rail, the rail perfectly center on the board the whole time, and landed without issue! Then he slid down a short ledge, balancing on the nose of his board, until he was at the bottom of the park. Show-off trick done, he calmly skated his way over to where Flash was watching.
"How's it over here?" he asked, a grin breaking his face. He didn't seem very out of breath at all, although sweat was building around his hairline and his face was turning pink in the sun.
"Cold," Flash answered honestly, shrugging his jacket on further. The lowering autumn temperatures didn't seem to bother any of the skaters. Probably because of all their exertion. Flash motioned to the Brooklyn rail. "That was pretty sweet what you did on the rail there."
"Thanks." Peter's grin couldn't get wider. "Wanna see some more?"
"Sure," Flash said, when what he really meant was 'Absolutely.'
He'd had reservations about Peter's physical wellness, and he still worried a bit about the other skaters, but Peter was amazing at skating. Every time he did a grind or a jump, Flash felt his heart race with secondhand adrenaline. And he was a bit envious too, if he was honest. But watching Peter have fun and trick out? Flash hadn't expected it to be so entertaining.
Now that he was specifically showing off to Flash, Peter didn't leave the bottom of the park. He skated the flat area to get a bit of momentum, and then he was doing kickflips and high ollies where Flash had a close, unobstructed view.
On one pass, Peter glanced up to make sure he had Flash's full attention, as if Flash would ever look away, and then he seemed smug in preparation for the trick he was about to do. He shifted his feet farther back on the board, popped the tail, and then Flash wasn't sure what happened because it was just amazing. The board had spun in a full circle horizontally AND done a full roll!
"The hell was that?" he exclaimed as Peter turned to come back to him.
Definitely looking smug now, Peter said, "A 360 Flip. Pretty awesome, right?"
"I don't know how you're not on your ass," Flash said, which pretty much amounted to the same sentiment. "Man, I could never-"
"You should try," Peter interrupted. At Flash's stunned expression, he elaborated in a surprisingly calm tone. There was none of the usual flustered stuttering Flash was used to. "Not the 360, obviously. But come on. I'll teach you the basics."
Although he had beckoned for Flash to join him in the pit, it was actually Peter who relocated. He hopped the guard wall and set his board on the ground in front of Flash. This was ludicrous, of course, because Flash couldn't even stand on a board, much less ride one, but Peter looked determined.
"I'm gonna look like an idiot," Flash complained and glanced over at the advanced skaters and the group of spectators watching them. Friends or family or whoever. They'd all see Flash fail.
A hand gently bat Flash on the cheek to regain his attention and he found Peter's eyes on him, intense in their stare but set above a soft smile. "Forget about those people. No one gets good by imagining all the people laughing at them. Just think. It's you and me. Nobody else. Okay? Now give me your hand and step onto the board."
Maybe it was stupid, but Peter's confidence infected Flash just a bit, and he did his best to turn the sounds of the skate park and its spectators into background noise. This was a sport, just like basketball, and just like in basketball, paying attention to the crowd instead of the game meant distraction and losing. He slid his rough hand into Peter's outstretched one and let himself be coached on the proper way to step on so as not to lose the board from under him.
Getting on was step one. Then it was balancing. Flash's right hand was still in Peter's, but when he wobbled on the board, he snapped his left hand down on Peter's shoulder and held on tight. The strength Peter always belied was evident as he provided support, and Flash might have held on a bit more than needed just to feel how solid a frame Peter truly had.
Peter laughed slightly through his teaching, but it wasn't a jeering, taunting sound. Instead, Flash found himself smiling in response to it. Peter's free hand pressed against Flash's stomach as he said, "Bend your knees slightly – no, too much, too much. Good. Like that. - And find your balance from here."
"Are you teaching me to skateboard or to fight?" Flash asked, remembering his training at OsCorp.
"Well the balancing principle is pretty much the same so... Yeah. I'm teaching you to fight." Peter chuckled, and Flash felt it under his hands. It made his stomach clench pleasantly, and he hoped Peter didn't notice.
Then Peter's hand moved to Flash's shoulders and fixed his stance, and soon Flash was able to move the board back and forth without totally shoving it out from under his feet. Peter was ecstatic, as though Flash had learned to ollie in one day. While Peter's eyes were down on the board, Flash stared at the other's face. Peter was some kind of abnormality – a mix of brilliant science and adept physical skill. He maintained the innocent excitement of an amateur while possessing the abilities of a professional. He was inspirational in a way Flash never could have understood back in high school, when he'd been too focused on himself and his small portion of the world.
Peter had never seen his world as small. That's what made him different. He was always seeing the world around him and marveling in it, caring about it, bringing everything into focus. And right now, all of that focus was on Flash. It was a pretty nice place to be, if Flash was honest.
Part of Flash wanted to caress the side of Peter's face, right over his cheekbone and down past his ear, right through the sweat gathered there. Part of him knew that was a terrible idea that he should never act on ever. For one, he was technically working and that wasn't professional. But more importantly, Peter had only just broken up with Gwen. It had been a month and a half, roughly, and people like Peter didn't date for the drama. They dated with all their heart. So there was no way Peter was over Gwen, no matter how happy he seemed to be on a daily basis. Touching Peter so fondly, so intimately, would be a breach of trust. It would cross a line in their relationship that was probably never even meant to be acknowledged.
And yet Flash found his hand releasing Peter's shoulder and moving toward his face anyway.
Without the extra hand supporting him, Flash's balance tipped and his left foot accidentally shoved the board out from under his feet with enough force to shoot it off into the grass some fifteen feet away. He fell, his weight dragging Peter down with him, and he expected to hit the concrete hard. But he didn't. Peter tried to right him at the same time he fell, and it ended up with Peter on his back on the ground and Flash hovering above him... almost literally.
Peter's arms were out, hands on Flash's biceps, and he was holding Flash off the ground in a position reminiscent of a parent holding their kid up above them so they could 'fly'. The only parts of Flash on the ground were his toes, but after the shock wore off, he dropped to his knees. Peter dropped him low enough that he could put his hands on the ground, and then he was really and truly covering Peter on the cement. They were close enough to feel each other breathing, the air rushing over each other's faces. They were close enough that, if Flash wanted to, he could easily kiss Peter. Not that he didn't want to, but he'd already learned his lesson for the day. If he tried to kiss Peter now, the universe would probably toss a skateboard into his head. But he still wanted to.
"Holy crap," Flash said with a startled breath. He quickly scrambled off Peter, embarrassment flooding him. His mind wasn't on everyone seeing him fail so epically. No, he was thinking about how close their bodies had been, how strong Peter was, and how it must have looked to others when Flash was covering Peter.
Damn his stupid brain. If he had just listened to his own logic and not tried to caress Peter's stupid, sweaty face, then none of that would have happened. For his part, Peter also seemed flustered, and Flash thought he saw a blush dusting the other's cheekbones... although that could have been the exertion from skating for an hour.
Peter rubbed his hands together and cleared his throat. "So- So not perfect yet. Guess we'll just have to- and- well no kickflips in your foreseeable future, huh?" He pushed himself up then and scrambled off to go find his skateboard while muttering, "Aw crap. Where's my board?"
A deep frown settled on Flash's face and he didn't bother trying to remove it or even trying to get up. If he'd broken Peter's board, it would be the perfect ending to the worst decision Flash had made in the past six months, at least. But when Peter returned, his board was in one piece and he was relaxed.
He offered Flash a hand up. "You alright, Flash?" he asked.
Shaking his head, Flash took the hand. "Yeah. Guess I'm just a bit disappointed in myself, that's all."
"Hey, no worries, man." Peter bumped shoulders with him and motioned toward the street. "If you keep practicing you'll get it. Then maybe we can skate together someday. But hey, how about we go find some lunch first?"
All of the flustered tension had left Peter, and he was back to his relaxed and elated mood from before Flash had tried to broach his trust. Good. Flash hadn't broken it. Not yet.
"Yeah, sure. I could go for a good corned beef sandwich right about now," Flash admitted, and his craving for the food only increased after he said it out loud.
That got a little laugh out of Peter, and the sound relaxed some of Flash's nerves. "Careful now, Flash. I think your tastes have gotten a bit high class since you got access to that OsCorp money," the photographer teased. "A corned beef sandwich?"
"Oh yeah," Flash agreed with a studious nod. "We'll settle for nothing less than the best sandwiches in the city."
"Oh no," Peter groaned, playing along.
"Oh yeah," Flash said with the finality of victory. "We're going back to the Lower East Side. We're going to Katz's."
…
...
The line was out the door. Getting to the counter to order was an exercise in patience. Not losing their ticket was handled like an Avengers mission. But, when they were finally seated against a wall practically dripping in photographs and had their food beautifully plated in front of them, the noise and the hassle was all completely worth it.
This was Katz's Delicatessen. The wall behind the counter was hung with layers of meat, the walls in the dining area were covered in photographs and neon signs, every table was full of chattering and smiling people, and a sign hung from the roof proclaiming "Where Harry met Sally...hope you have what she had! Enjoy!" It was loud, it was crowded, it was expensive, but it smelled like heaven and tasted even better.
Peter had already torn through half of his pastrami sandwich and his pickles, making quite frankly obscene noises the entire time. Flash wasn't sure how to handle it, and his corned beef had been partially ignored in response.
"So," Peter said after wiping his mouth off. "I really appreciate what you've done for me."
Frowning, Flash asked, "What do you mean?" and took the opportunity to take a big bite of his sandwich.
Peter motioned around them, at the restaurant and the people, but also as if to places outside of Katz's. "Taking me to the Intrepid, that movie theater with the superhero movies, the Statue of Liberty, the zoo. I mean, at the Hall of Science you even paid extra for the science playground even though we're kind of too old for it."
That might be true, but it was totally worth the extra money to get them to let Peter play with that giant water screw thing – Archimedes screw, he remembered. Not to mention the spider web. Even though Peter had gone slow and almost seemed determined to get tangled or slip from time to time, he'd been too sure footed and precise to really pull it off. And why Peter would want to seem clumsier than he really was baffled Flash.
"You say all that like you didn't have fun," Flash said once he'd swallowed, before taking another bite.
Peter had started the conversation by thanking him, but the way he listed off the places they'd gone since his break up sounded like he was upset. Given that each and every one of those trips was meant to lift Peter's spirits, he had Flash worried. Had Flash miscalculated? Math had never been his strong suit, but he'd thought he was better at reading people than he'd been in high school.
Running his hands through his hair, Peter said, "No, I did. I really did. It's just-Flash, you've done a lot for me. And I know that you're-that we're not-I know you're getting paid to hang out with me, okay? I get that. But we haven't had a you day in a long time, and-and I think we should change that."
Flash handed him some napkins, earning him a confused eyebrow raise. "You got mustard in your hair."
There was a delightful flush across Peter's cheeks as he worked to get the yellow condiment out of his brown hair. Again, Flash was caught wanting to reach out to him. How warm was Peter's skin over that pink blush? And despite how often Peter ran the napkins over and through his hair, he kept missing one little spot of mustard. Flash could get it. He could run his fingers over Peter's head, through each strand.
Peter's voice knocked him back from those thoughts. "I wanna do something you wanna do," he said. Flash's pulse jumped. "So the next time we go somewhere, I want it to be something you want to do. Not me."
"You trying to say I didn't have fun at all those places we've gone?" Flash asked, trying to sound offended. By Peter's reaction, he succeeded more than he thought he had.
"I'm not saying that," Peter backtracked, holding his hands up. "But come on, Flash. We both know science isn't your thing. And the zoo? You've never struck me as a cuddly animals kind of guy." A little grin. "I mean, until the petting zoo."
Flash narrowed his eyes across the table. "You swore you wouldn't mention it again."
So Flash had a soft spot for baby animals. It wasn't that big of a deal. That didn't mean he wanted it spread like gossip in the lunch room. He was still a little sore that Peter had laughed at him. He'd apologized, but still.
Still grinning, Peter said. "So? Pick what we do for fun next."
They met eyes across the table. He wanted Flash to pick their next outing based not on what he thought Peter would like, but on what Flash would like. It felt…nice. Peter caring about Flash enjoying himself felt really really nice.
He took another bite of his sandwich, nearly all of it gone now, to stop himself from smiling. Peter didn't move a muscle, just staring at Flash like his gaze alone could make Flash give in. It might, if Flash had been putting up a resistance in the first place.
"Barclays," Flash said. Peter gave him a confused look. "They're having a game there soon. A series of them, actually. We can go to that."
Peter lifted an eyebrow. "Basketball games?"
"Yeah." Peter let out a soft chuckle, as if to say 'why am I not surprised?' and then continued eating his own sandwich. Flash frowned. "If you're not interested, just say so."
Shaking his head, Peter said, around his food, "It's fine. I'm interested." Flash opened his mouth to protest but Peter stopped him with a determined look. "We're going to Barclays, Flash."
Flash frowned. He knew sports weren't Peter's thing. Sure, science wasn't his thing and he still went to all those science-y places to make Peter happy, but Peter didn't need to do the same for him. "Peter-"
"Or, I'm going to Barclays," Peter amended. "And, since it's your job to keep me safe and follow me everywhere I go, I guess you have to go too or else I'll be all alone. Who knows what dangers lie waiting in that arena? I could die."
That forced a laugh from Flash. "Tripping down the stairs?"
A shrug. "You never know. I could be mugged. One of Spider-man's nemeses might show up. There could be some freak incident and I get beat up by a basketball flying into the stands." He smirked. "You'll just have to go with me to make sure I don't get hurt, won't you, Thompson?"
Now Flash was smiling. Peter had a knack for getting Flash to smile lately. He'd had a knack for ticking Flash off in school. He'd liked Peter even then, he could admit that now. At the time it had made Flash scared and angry, and he'd become an even worse bully. He still liked Peter now. Older, more mature, more sure of himself, this time the feeling made Flash content, maybe even happy. Whenever he forgot that Peter wasn't interested, at least.
"I guess I will, Parker."
