Chapter 12
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Flash was not surprised when he was called in to see Harry Osborne. Harry called him for update meetings once a week, on Tuesday because Peter was at Avengers Tower in the afternoons. He was a little surprised to see Harry sitting at the table in the meeting room, staring intently at something on the computerized screen contained in said table, instead of standing to greet him with a smile like he usually did.
Flash stood silently once the door was shut behind him. He didn't speak or move, waiting. Harry flicked his finger and whatever he was looking at changed to a different image. From where he was standing, Flash thought it was a billing statement.
"Intriguing," Harry said at length, not lifting his head. "Mr. Thompson, how long have you been working as Peter's bodyguard?"
With a confused furrow of his eyebrows, Flash responded, "Four months, Mr. Osborne."
"Four months and six days," Harry corrected. He lifted his eyes now, fixing them on Flash.
Harry Osborne was not a physically imposing man. He was thin and gangly, more so than Peter had ever been. While Flash knew Harry had some martial arts skill, he was still not afraid of the smaller male. After all, Flash had some training as well. But Harry had presence. He could take up the whole room without saying a word. If he was happy with you then the room seemed larger, brighter. If he was upset with you then the very air around you felt oppressive.
Flash felt the world shrinking more with every second Harry's gaze lingered on him, his eyes dark and a definite frown on his lips. "That sounds about right."
"And how long were you expecting to use company profits to date Peter?"
"What?" Flash gasped, feeling off center. Dates? He wasn't dating Peter. He wanted to, but he wasn't, because Peter didn't...He didn't...Right?
Harry flicked his wrist and the documents he was looking at were displayed in the air between himself and Flash. It was a billing statement, like Flash had thought, for a credit card. Glancing at the account number at the top, Flash realized it was for the credit card Harry had issued for him upon employment.
The whole screen was taken up with purchases Flash had made in the past few weeks. Pizza at that place Peter really liked. Two tickets to the New York Hall of Science, including mini golf and the science playground. Several trips to the American Museum of Natural History for different exhibits. The Intrepid Sea, Air, and Space Museum Complex tickets. That dollar theater Flash had found showing old superhero movies on Mondays showed up a few times. The Statue of Liberty ferry tickets, with crown access. The tickets for seats at Barclays Center. To the Central Park Zoo. Food at Calexico, Souvlaki GR from that day he and Peter just happened to pass it, The Cinnamon Snail, Van Leeuwen Artisan Ice Cream from right after the break up, and about a half dozen other food trucks where Flash remembered nearly bullying Peter into letting Flash buy him something to eat. Katz's Delicatessen a few times.
At least Flash had paid transportation costs with his own money.
"I see you're having some issues finding a good excuse," Harry noted, standing from his seat slowly. "Don't bother coming up with one, because there isn't one good enough. You are meant to be his bodyguard. That means guarding him from anything you decide is dangerous for him. That does not mean using your company business card to ferry my friend around all of New York City on dates."
It took a good shake of his head for Flash to manage speech. "I assure you, sir, I did not mean them to be dates."
He would have liked them to be dates, but that was not his intention when taking Peter to those places and paying for all that stuff.
"Then what did you mean by all this spending?" Harry asked. It sounded like a loaded question but Flash did his best to answer truthfully while also in a way that a paranoid rich friend might sympathize with.
"I'm sure you know that Peter's girlfriend broke up with him," Flash began. A dark look passed over Harry's face as he nodded. "He was hurt by the break up. You could even say he was verging on depressed. Now, Mr. Osborne, you may be Peter's friend, but so am I. I don't really understand all the science stuff that you and Peter do, but I know he likes that sort of thing, so I tried taking him around to places to get his mind off of Gwen and back on to the other things he cares about. Science. Learning. This city. I was only trying to help out a friend, like you would."
Harry lifted the eyebrow not hidden behind his bangs and gave Flash a considering look. His eyes wandered from the top of Flash's head to the bottoms of his feet, then back up to stop on his face. After what felt like a lifetime, Harry reached over and swiped a hand over the tabletop, making the floating images vanish, all without looking away from Flash.
He nodded and seemed to relax, though Flash did not. "Eugene 'Flash' Thompson," Harry said in a sing-song voice. His lips quirked up on one side and he slid his hands in his pockets. "I hired you as a bodyguard because you and Peter were acquaintances in high school and because you fit the profile I was looking for. You still do. And honestly, I don't care if you want to be Peter's rebound."
"I-" Flash tried to say but Harry cut off his words with a hard look and kept talking, voice measured and speech slow.
"If it helps you spend more time with him; if it makes you more prone to protect him; if he is the first and last thing you consider in every situation, then I don't care if you want to write sonnets about Peter's eyelashes or have his name carved into the surface of the moon. However, whatever you do while trying to woo Peter..." Harry started walking closer to Flash, who kept absolutely still and wary. Harry was shorter than Flash, shorter than Peter, but not by much. He stopped just before his right shoulder met Flash's and tilted his chin up so his mouth was near Flash's ear. "Do it with your own money, not mine."
There was a warning and a threat in the statement that Flash understood. He worked for the Osborns protecting Peter Parker, but the Osborns had the power to make his life hell if he ticked them off enough. Then Harry fluidly spun around Flash and headed for the door, which opened when he reached it without him having to lift a finger.
"Have a great week, Mr. Thompson," he said casually before one of his bodyguards shut the door and Flash was alone in the room.
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It was a really dumb idea. Like, a super bad idea. Still, no one could say Flash was rational when he was upset. So it really was no surprise when he left OsCorp and went looking for a fight.
He was angry at Harry for threatening him, for not listening to him, for throwing Flash's feelings for Peter in his face. He was also frustrated. Was he that obvious? Did Peter know? Was he just humoring Flash? The thought made Flash antsy which made him want to punch something. No, it's wasn't smart. No, it wasn't right. But that was how it was.
Luckily he found a group of four guys hanging out in an ally and looking suspiciously at a nearby store. They had patches on their jackets that matched one of the gangs in the neighborhood, and that ended up being enough for Flash.
It took a tap to one's shoulder and a punch to the guy's face when he turned around, then Flash was involved in a full on brawl. His training at OsCorp, and before that, were on his side. Flash could easily take all four of them out with only minor injuries to himself.
Except he quickly realized he wasn't fighting four guys. Five other guys had come from somewhere while Flash was busy dodging attacks. One against nine. He didn't like those odds. Still, he'd asked for this fight so he was going to fight to win.
He dodged a punch from the guy he originally hit and then felt arms grab him from behind. Dropping his body a little by bending his knees, Flash grabbed hold of his attacker and flipped the guy up over his shoulder. The guy landed hard on his back and didn't get up, instead just lying there and groaning. One of the other guys, one with a long ponytail, landed a punch to Flash's face but he rolled with it so the fist just skimmed him. Flash took ponytail guy out with a punch to his gut that had him on his knees.
Flash's luck seemed to run out then. A guy with a buzz cut shorter than Flash's kicked Flash in the back of the knees, making him fall, and it was all downhill from there. He caught the next fist that aimed at his head but missed the kick to his stomach from the other side. Still reeling from that hit, he wasn't able to stop the blow to the head that knocked him to the pavement.
The guys were saying something but Flash was too busy trying to think of how to beat them, and blinking away the spots in his vision, to pay attention. He hated getting hit in the head. It made thinking difficult and brought up bad memories.
Flash pushed himself up and, when no one stopped him, jumped up. He was instantly in a fighting pose, fists raised to protect his head from further attack. Except that there was no further attack. Two guys were backing toward the exit of the ally, three were lying on the ground in pain, and the other four were pinned by webbing to the wall.
"Now now, boys," a teasing and familiar voice said behind him. "You were talking so big just a second ago."
Flipping around, Flash came face to face with Spider-Man. Well, face to mask. Spider-Man had a knife in his hand, which he crushed in that one hand and then threw toward a dumpster behind him. Amazingly, without him even looking, it went in.
"He started it!" One of the two remaining fighters shouted, pointing at Flash.
Spider-Man looked at Flash then, head tilted curiously. A rush of shame welled up in Flash. He'd talked a big game to Captain America, been real good about only doing minimal fighting while protecting Peter, but he was still so far from being as good as Spider-Man. And Flash wasn't just some guy. Spider-Man knew who he was, knew that Flash admired him so much. Now he'd let his hero down. The pain in his chest hurt more than the pain in his head.
Spider-Man shot out two strands of webbing, catching both slowly fleeing men before they could take another step. In less than five seconds they were pinned next to their friends. "Well then, you all can stay here and take the time until the webbing dissolves to really think about your life choices. After all, nine against one? Those odds just aren't fair. And as for you," he said as he turned on Flash.
Flash didn't try to run, ready to accept Spider-Man's punishment with whatever remaining pride he had. Spider-Man shrugged and then shot webbing at Flash. It covered his mouth. Then stuck his wrists together. Flash let out a rush of noise through his nose and in his throat, shocked. Spider-Man walked until there was almost no space between himself and Flash.
"I guess you're coming with me, tough guy." Without any more warning, Flash was whisked away into the air.
Flying through the air with Spider-Man was awesome. Even with webbing holding him captive and preventing him from talking, the rush of the air against his face and the way his stomach dropped whenever they started to fall again was exhilarating. And the whole time, Spider-Man had a hand wrapped around him while in return his arms were locked around Spider-Man's neck. Flash just wished he knew where Spider-Man was taking him. The police? For one street fight?
Finding himself at his own apartment was not what he expected.
Spider-Man quickly slid them both in through a window - not the same one he'd given Flash cake through, thankfully, since Flash wouldn't have fit - and then shut it behind them. Flash took a moment to take in the fact that Spider-Man was in his bedroom. His idol was in his apartment.
Yeah this was happening.
Then the masked vigilante cut the webbing away from Flash's mouth and the bindings holding Flash's hands together. Of course the first thing out of Flash's mouth was, "So I'm not in trouble?"
Spider-Man placed his hands on his hips. "No, not really." Then he crossed his arms. "I would like an explanation for why you thought fighting against nine thugs was a good idea though."
Flash almost flinched but managed to hold it back. "It wasn't nine thugs. It was four. The other five showed up after the fight started."
Now the superhero rolled his head and shoulders, like Flash imagined he was also rolling his eyes. "Right, cause that's so much better. Still not an explanation, Eugene." He waved a hand at Flash in a 'come on, tell me' motion before re-crossing his arms.
Flash hated his first name. He hated remembering it yelled in unlit hallways in slurred tones at all hours of the day and night. He hated reading it on letters sent home or left on his desk in regret. Nothing got him riled faster than someone using his first name.
Peter used his first name.
Thinking back on it, Peter probably used "Eugene" to get Flash riled up on purpose. He would always leave whomever he'd been bullying alone and turn on Peter the instant his first name was used. Crap. Peter had won every fight they'd been a part of without ever throwing a punch. And all this time Flash had thought he was the tough one.
With an outward groan, Flash felt his anger slip away. He ran his hands over his face. "Bad day at work," he explained vaguely.
"Oh, did you get thrown through a brick wall and land on a rotary phone too?" Spider-Man asked, sounding genuinely interested.
Flash lifted an eyebrow at him. "Uh, no. I got chewed out by my boss."
"But did you land on a rotary phone?" Spider-Man repeated, his tone mocking and unlike anything Flash had ever heard from a superhero before. Except maybe Iron Man.
It took Flash a moment or two before he realized what the superhero was doing. "Dude. You've seen The Hangover?"
The spandex clad hero shrugged and scoffed. "Duh."
Flash let out a single laugh. Spider-Man watched dumb comedies just like anyone else. Somehow that made him feel better.
He let out a long sigh and rolled an aching shoulder. "You ever like anyone? And I mean like, 'dating'-like. Actually maybe 'spending the rest of your life with them'-like. Verging on 'what's wrong with morning breath'-like."
"Uh."
Flash pushed forward before he could get an answer. "Which is stupid, right? No one likes morning breath. And I'm hardly marriage material." He used his right hand to gesture to all of himself. Spider-Man tilted his head to the side like he was considering Flash's marriage qualification too. "And man, I was a prick in high school. Grade A douche. Meanwhile you're...you. Obviously if you ever liked someone you're perfect for them."
"Hardly," Spider-Man scoffed. "Lots of missed dates, having to leave in the middle of a conversation, not to mention the lying? I doubt you're much worse than me." He held his hands out to the sides as if presenting himself. "I wouldn't put much faith in any advice I could give, but if you want to ask me something, shoot. I'm durable, I can take it."
That got another single laugh out of Flash. "Alright."
He sat on the edge of his bed and looked at his hands while he spoke, so only Spider-Man's feet were in view.
"I got chewed out today by my boss because he thought I was using company money to date-" Flash paused. Peter was practically Spider-Man's official photographer. That meant Spider-Man probably knew who Peter was. If Flash wanted an unbiased opinion, he'd probably best not mention Peter by name. "-this guy," he finished lamely.
For a moment the room was quiet. Red and blue feet shuffled around within Flash's vision. Then, "Well were you?"
"Hm?"
"Using company money to your own advantage?" Spider-Man clarified. "Cause, sorry, that's actually an offen-"
"No," Flash interrupted, looking up. He could felt his cheek throb with the movement and knew he'd have a nice bruise in the morning. "I wasn't. It apparently looked that way, but it wasn't what I meant to do."
Spider-Man let out a short breath, then a tiny groan. Reaching up, he gripped the bottom of his mask around his neck. As he began to pull it up, Flash's heart sped up. Was he taking off his mask? Why? Was Flash supposed to look away or something?
The mask stopped when it could be propped just over Spider-Man's nose, still hiding most of his head and face. Flash wasn't sure if he should be happy or disappointed.
"Whoo, it gets hot under there," the super man let out. "You ever wear one of those face masks people put on so they don't cough on others when they're sick, or what doctors wear when doing surgeries and stuff?" A nod. "I always hated that feeling of your own hot air blowing back on your face. Ick."
The skin Flash could now see was lighter toned than he'd been expecting, but not pale. There were no scars or blemishes visible, only clean and smooth skin along a soft but authoritative jaw and down the long neck. His mouth was ever so slightly crooked, reminding Flash of Peter's mouth. Which just brought him out of admiring his hero and back to the current problem at hand.
"Anyway," Spider-Man said, "do you even like the guy they thought you were dating? I mean, would you like to date him? Or, not worry about morning breath with him?"
Flash nodded. "Yeah." Spider-Man's mouth curved down a little and Flash felt a shot of annoyance. "What? I never thought you of all people would have an issue with two dudes dating." Now Spider-man had his head tilted and a lopsided frown on his lips. "You're a superhero. You help everyone. I've never heard of you discriminating."
Spider-man shook his head. When he spoke, he sounded a bit lost. "No...No, that's not...I was just thinking about...I didn't know that you- That is, do you...Can I-"
It didn't sound like Flash was talking to a superhero. Instead, Flash would say this must be what talking to Spider-Man out of costume was like. He sounded much less confident, more like just another young guy like Flash. The back of Flash's brain picked up, telling him he recognized something in the way Spider-man was talking, in this nervous, thoughtful tone.
Seeming to come to some decision, Spider-Man frowned again and nodded. Then, before Flash could move, Spider-Man took the two steps to stand between Flash's legs. His gloved hands cupped Flash's face gently, and then Spider-Man leaned down. Flash had enough time to realize what was about to happen, for his eyes to widen, and then Spider-Man's lips covered his own and he was being kissed by New York's Friendly Neighborhood Wall Crawler.
He was being kissed by New York's Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man.
He was being kissed by Spider-Man.
He was being kissed by-!
Spider-Man pulled back, hesitated, then seemed to fold in on himself. He pulled his hands away from Flash's face and held them close to his chest, a guilty frown pulling down his visible features. "I-I...I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-I gotta go." He pulled his mask fully on and turned away.
Flash regained control of his mental faculties soon enough to dart after the fleeing hero as he slipped out through the window again, but he wasn't quick enough to stop him. He watched Spider-Man swing around the edge of the apartment building next to his and then the red and blue hero was gone.
Leaning out his apartment bedroom window, Flash's brain whirred.
He liked Peter Parker. He wanted to kiss and date Peter Parker. But Spider-Man had just kissed him. Did that mean that Spider-Man liked him? Like, that Spider-Man wanted to date him? If he did, what was Flash supposed to do? Say 'No, sorry, I'm interested in a dorky photographer who studies biology and physics'? This was Spider-Man! It was like saying 'No' to the President of the United States!
"Shit," Flash let out, his head dropping forward to lean on the edge of the window. "How did this even happen?"
…
…
The door clicked shut with what sounded like abnormal loudness in the quiet house. Aunt May looked up from her reading, looked Peter over once, and frowned.
"Honey, what's wrong?" she asked, shutting her book.
Peter dragged his feet over to the couch and dropped into the cushions like he had no bones in his body. Leaning his head back to look at the ceiling, he asked, "How long is okay before liking someone new?"
Aunt May turned a bit to face him better. "What do you mean?"
"I mean…Back in high school people broke up all the time, and then like two weeks later they're with someone else. I always thought that was wrong. I mean, you were supposedly in love with whoever and then only two weeks later you're totally over it and you've moved on? That doesn't seem possible," he groused, waving his hand idly in the air like that would make his point for him.
There was quiet for a moment and then Aunt May placed a hand on his knee. "It's okay to start to move on from Gwen," she said quietly.
Peter sat up straight so he could look at her but didn't move enough to dislodge her hand. "We broke up just over a month ago. And she broke up with me. I shouldn't like anyone new this fast," he berated himself.
"You can't help who you like, Peter," Aunt May responded firmly. "And I doubt it's anyone new. You're so busy all the time, I have to think it's someone you already knew. That means there's history there. That means you know them."
Did she know he meant Flash? Flash was the one he spent most of his time with now, but he could mean someone at the Bugle or college or that he'd run into someone from high school again. She didn't know that. She couldn't know.
"It's unfair."
"To whom?" Aunt May asked as if he'd offended her. "To Gwen? Sweetie, she's a nice girl. I really liked her, but that doesn't mean you have to punish yourself because it didn't work out. And just because you like someone else doesn't mean that Gwen wasn't important, or that your relationship with her wasn't important. It just means that you're ready to heal. It means that there is someone else out there who can be just as important to you, make you just as happy."
Peter tried to look away and suddenly his aunt's hands were holding his face in place, her fierce eyes staring directly into his.
"There is nothing wrong with moving on, Peter."
The conviction was so strong in his aunt that there was nothing Peter could do but believe her. How many times had she chased away his doubts with pure will power? He wouldn't have been the school photographer without her. He wouldn't have pursued Gwen without her. Heck, he probably wouldn't still be Spider-Man without her. Aunt May was his solace and his guide.
Wrapping Aunt May up in his arms in as tight a hug as he would dare give her, Peter whispered, "I love you, Aunt May," into her hair.
She gently rubbed up and down his back. "I love you too, Peter. I always will."
…
…
tbc
