Peter felt like as if someone had dissected him and taken out his heart. He felt numb all over, everything seemed to be underwater. The only feeling that remained was the forever aching loss of his Uncle Ben. It was his fault, it was all his fault and no one could convince him otherwise.
“With great power, came great responsibility.”
Gwen had tried to understand, bless her heart, tried to reach out but he just couldn’t. The emotions were too much, he just wanted to be numb. Always numb. It was better than feeling this amount of pain, even if he subconsciously thought he deserved it.
“Hey, Parker.” Came a familiar voice that made Peter’s ribs ache in a phantom bruise. He did not have the energy nor mental capacity to deal with Flash right now.
“Not today, Flash.” Peter called in a deadpan voice void of emotion. Opening his locker, head down, shoulders scrunched trying to appear smaller than he was.
“Come on, man. I just want to talk.” Flash stated putting his hand on Peter’s shoulder, he knew that his Uncle had died and felt the overwhelming urge to help especially upon noticing how no one else did but also how Peter was beginning to shut everyone out. Flash new from experience that that wasn’t a healthy coping mechanism and that in the end, it never worked.
Peter didn’t even think before reacting, shoving Flash against the lockers, feet dangling slightly as he heard the mental dent and the air rush out of Flash’s lungs, ugly angry feelings rushing to the surface as tears filled his eyes. He just wanted to be left alone, to wallow in his self loathing and guilt. Why was Flash trying to get in the way of that? Didn’t he want Peter to hurt?
“It feels better, right?” The words were spoken in an almost whisper, close to Peter’s head and only for him. Flash’s hands rested softly on top of his own where he was gripping Flash’s hoodie. His thumbs even started to rub soothing circles over his knuckles, the implication of Flash’s words were too much for Peter to comprehend at this point. The softness of Flash’s touch and the intimate way of talking to him was too much. Peter longed for comfort. Gwen had tried to give him that but it was too soon, Peter had felt like he didn’t deserve it. He still thinks that now, but he craves it, craves someone to hold him and tell him everything’s going to be okay.
“Look, your uncle died. I’m sorry, I get it okay?” The soft but sturdiness of Flash’s voice on top of the gently touches became too much for Peter as he slowly let Flash go back down to the ground. Shoulders bunches around his ears, tears falling from his eyes as Flash slowly wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close and resting a firm but comforting hand on the back of his neck.
The whole world just seem to fade away for Peter then, the sole thing he could focus on was Flash. The sturdiness of his body, the comforting scent of his body wash and aftershave, his steady but firm heart beat, the strong and comforting hand on the back of his neck and finally the muscle arm around his waist. Peter was pretty sure he could stay like this forever. Alas, he could not as the second and final bell rang marking the beginning of class. Nearly all the students had gone after the first warning bell, leaving just him and Flash alone in the corridor. “Come on.” Spoke Flash, tapping Peter’s side and removing his hand from his neck putting some space between the two but still remaining contact by keeping a hand on his shoulder.
Peter, tear stained and sniffly, looked at Flash in sorrow. Desperately hoping that he wouldn’t have to part with the boy so soon and go to class. Seeming to understand Peter’s trail of thought, Flash immediately sent him a warm, quick smile before grabbing the boys hand and leading him out of school.
The walk to Flash’s place was surprisingly quick and quiet, on the subway Flash handed Peter a pair of headphones and kept his hand tucked securely around his. It was almost like as if Flash knew. Knew about Peter’s senses, knew he was touched starved, knew what kind of pain he was in. Flash was the balm that Peter’s soul needed at the moment, and damn Peter’s guilt complex for trying to take that away. For trying to take Peter away from Flash.
Peter barely got to fully take in his surroundings around the surprisingly small apartment, before he was being dragged down the hall to where he assumed Flash’s bedroom was. Anxiety spiked hard in Peter’s stomach about what might take place in there, but one swift look at Flash’s calm and open body language put Peter at ease. He knew that Flash, despite his obnoxious and overbearing personality, always respected boundaries.
The room was small but homey, not well lit and messy but it was so inexplicably Flash. From the car posters on the wall, the ash tray-half full-by the window, the desk covered in text books and random bits of paper to the half made bed and random article of clothing and comic books strewn across the floor. The room itself smelt like old cigarettes, laundry detergent and Flash’s aftershave; something which smelt like old spice and nicotine.
Peter’s brain seemed to switch off then, becoming comatose as too many emotions assaulted him at once. Flash simply took this in stride, trying to keep down his anxiety riddled brain, hoping that he hadn’t crossed any lines and made Peter uncomfortable. He just wanted the boy to find comfort in something, anything really and Flash hoped that by providing him a safe place to do that would help.
Flash tugged off Peter’s shoes and helped him into his bed, stepping back trying to keep a smile off his face as he watched Peter burrow into the sheets, wrapping them around himself and positioning the pillows into specific places. He let the boy do what he wanted as he went to fetch some more blankets and some food, knowing that both boys would eventually get hungry. After getting the food and extra blankets which Peter practically snatched out of his hands, Flash got the TV that was in his wardrobe out and positioned it by the foot of the bed, pulling out some DVDs as he did. Finally when Flash was done setting everything up, he noticed that Peter had stopped fidgeting and was looking at him expectantly. It took a minute before Flash caught on and immediately dived into the nest-because yes, it was a nest at this point-that Peter had made.
The rest of the day was spent with cheesy rom-coms, light conversation and heartwarming touches. As Peter sunk further and further down into a reality that was just Flash and Flash’s room and Flash’s blankets and Flash’s TV. Just Flash in general.
Maybe Peter could allow himself to have nice things in life. Maybe, just maybe he deserved them.