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Peter entered the bathroom, only planning on quickly washing the grime off of his hands, except his now ex-boyfriend walked out of a cubicle, not seeming to notice his presence yet. Flash seemed out of it, Peter would know because the other is usually so alert. But after further inspection, Flash did seem really tired, though it was hard to tell from appearance alone because of the makeup.
Though Peter can see that the other seems less alert and more sluggish, he’s usually not that slow in washing his hands nor does he usually get the cuffs of his sleeves even slightly wet. That and Flash looks zoned out, he hasn’t even looked at his reflection yet to see if there’s anything to retouch. A movement brushed his sleeve higher for a moment but it was long enough for Peter to catch the tell-tale sign of a forming—or worsening bruise.
Peter stilled and he came over, Flash finally realizing he was there. Peter grabbed his sleeve with his still wet hands—yeah, Flash is already pissed—and pushed it up further, Flash only now realizing what his intentions were and pulled his arm free of Peter’s grasp. But it was already too late by then.
“Don’t stop me,” Peter pleaded and took Flash’s arm into his hands again, gently pushing up the sleeve. It was a faint yet tender hand-shaped bruise though not too faint to mistake it for something else but a bruise. “Is…Is this all of it?” Peter asks, voice cracking with disbelief as he continues to stare at the bruise wrapped around Flash’s thinning wrist.
After a moment of hesitation, Flash acquiesced, cursing his soft spot for his ex. He shook his head, a strand of his hair escaping from behind his ears and framing his face. “No, that’s…” he sighed, “that’s the best one.” Peter’s grip on his sleeve tightened. “My back took the worst of it.”
“Can I see?”
Flash clenched his fist tightly for a second before he gave a defeated sigh, “lock the door, please?” Peter nodded and went to lock the door while Flash stripped off his layers. He faced the wall, giving Peter a clear view of his beaten and battered back, lacerations and bruises so dark and stark against Flash’s warm brown skin which currently lost its usual glow.
Peter reaches, hands shaking, as he lightly touches the tender wounds, his hands retreating immediately when Flash winced upon immediate contact. The bruises were red and tender, so it couldn’t have been older than two days. It didn’t look like it received proper treatment so has Flash been dealing with it the whole time when his clothes probably brush against them? Has he been in pain this entire time? How long?
Peter gulped, “hold on. Let me care for these.”
“We’re not dating anymore, why do you care?”
“Just because we’re not together doesn’t mean I can’t care for you. My job is literally to save people I have no connection with.”
Flash stayed silent, moving to face the mirror instead, and let Peter do his thing, his fingers twitching in some particular sore spot, Peter catching his tells and apologizing every time the pain spikes and burns. Tears roll down Peter’s cheeks the longer he looks at the canvas of bruises. He looks down and then looks at the reflection, looking at Flash’s expression. "How come I didn't see the signs…?"
Flash shrugs, "that was the goal. I only invite you when they're away. Plus, they don't often hit me. One of the rare times."
"What made your dad beat you?"
"Some minor shit. I don't know. He looks for the smallest shit to nitpick."
"...your eye twitches when you lie."
Flash was silent for a while before he snorted, "perceptive."
"Tell me… please ."
He sighs, "I…I wasn't enough, again. This time, I got everything A+ but I wasn't the top student, you know."
"Top of the class…? That's…that's me."
"Yeah, and, you're incredibly, insanely smart. Like, really really smart," Flash said with a proud smile. "And, well, I’m not as smart as you and I…I was tired. My mom's monitoring my diet, the vegetarian one I was enforced with. And with how jam packed my schedule was, I was just so so so so so tired. It's been building up for a long while. So, uh, my grades took a hit and they weren't happy, surprise surprise.
So I tried harder, pulled more all-nighters, holed up in my room longer, spent less time on self-care or anything else, really. I couldn't afford to sleep in class and catch up after school, like I used to do, because I have more stuff to do afterwards. So, really, in short, beating you for that position fair and square was…impossible. And I'm a realist, not an idealist. I'd say I'm not a fool, but you, well, you..prove me wrong, a lot."
"You could have asked me to do slightly worse than you for a little while. You could have said something, I'd have done it."
"No! See, this is exactly why I didn't say anything. Because you'd do it because you're just that nice. But that's taking advantage of you and I can't do that. And you're on a scholarship. With all the spidey shit, you're already late so many times and you're not really good at Literature and barely passing. I couldn't have done anything that would risk you losing your scholarship, not when it's already at such a risk. And if you lose your scholarship, you'd hate yourself for making May work harder to pay your fees. I couldn't do that to you."
"Is this why you broke up with me?"
Flash shrugs again and looks up, trying to will in the tears. He sniffed and, with a low whisper, he confessed, "I couldn't let you see how broken I am."
Peter, now fully crying, pulled him into a hug, careful of the fresh wounds on his back. "Now who's the idiot?" Peter whispered, it was meant to be some sort of joking quip like Spidey always does, but his sadness just ruined the entirety of it.
"Seeing as you'd still go into a flamed up building without proper precautions or protective wear, I'd still say it's you," Flash answers with a light tone as he caresses Peter's curls, trying to comfort him like he used to do.
"You're not broken…you're just hurting."
Flash chuckles humorlessly, "everyone is. This is stupid, people have gone through worse. At least they're gone most of the time."
"Neglect is a form of abuse, you know that." They were silent for a while, before, "remember what you said before?"
"I say a lot of shit, Pete."
"You said that we shouldn't compare traumas. That we're all hurting and just because people have gone through worse, doesn't mean you're hurting any less. That everyone's lives matter and so do their experiences because they exist in their own book where they're the main character, and that means that no matter how 'insignificant' their problems seem to be, that's a significant piece of their book.
That the world is just one big library of people's autobiographies that will inevitably be lost to time, but they still existed. That we need to learn when to stop thinking about the big picture and learn to focus on the finer details. That we need to stop thinking about how insignificant we are in the grand calculus of things because, at the end of the day, we're the most significant ones in our book."
Flash snorts, "that's a stupid block of words said by a stupid seventeen year old that wanted to sound wise."
Peter smiled, "well, to a fellow seventeen year old, it sounded wise."
"We're only children, you know".
"Children and adults alike learn from one another. You said it once before, we're always changing and developing and that sometimes, we don't share the same values or beliefs or mindsets as our younger self. So maybe in a few years, I will find it stupid. But, as of now, it comforted me and I want it to comfort you, too. Are you?"
"Yeah. But I don't think it was the words that did it for me. It was…you."
Peter blushed, "you were never this cheesy before."
Flash chuckled, "you bring out the worst in me."
Peter rolled his eyes, "gross. Seriously."
Flash fiddled with the string of his sweatpants, still keeping eye contact, "well…sometimes it's someone's presence that comforts you, even if they spew bullshit. Sometimes it's all about the feelings, aren't they?"
Peter nodded and they broke off the eye contact. "I," he cleared his throat, "no offense, but, I think you were really stupid."
"A lot of people would argue that I always am."
"And people tell me I never listen, why should I start now?"
"You really should listen to them once in a while."
"Okay, fine. But, really. With our long history and relationship, both before and after the romantic or sexual part came in…don't you think that maybe we've gone through enough that I wouldn't leave you just from seeing another angle of the bad stuff?"
Flash bit his cheek, "no, I know. You're…you're not that type. And that's the worst part. Because you're just so good of a person and I'm…well, I'm me . I'm Flash Thompson, the idiot asshole. Or Eugene Thompson, the useless idiot. I'm just me and I don't like me and if I don't like me and if my parents don't either, then…why would you be any different?"
Peter's expression softened and tears pricked his eyes again at the waves of sadness that Flash kept tightly sealed behind his usually bright onyx eyes.
"I was scared because you just came into my life and you just looked at me so softly and so lovingly and adoringly and shattered everything I ever knew. I felt so safe around you and not because you're a literal superhero. You could have not gotten those powers and stayed like a wet noodle and I'd probably still feel safe and warm around you.
My entire life I was told I was useless, that I was an idiot, that I was not enough. And I spent my entire life so far never feeling like I am enough because, deep down, I know that I'm not. I'm not and never will be good enough for my parents no matter how much I kill myself over and over trying to satisfy them when they never had the capacity to care about me enough to be content with me.
Then you came in all lovey dovey and cringey and then I felt so loved and warm and safe and…enough. I was shitty to you before we got together that I didn't feel like I had to put up a façade to please you. I didn't have to be like the perfect golden trophy child. At first, I didn't care much. But then you started courting me and I was just so scared. Because having someone meant having a weakness.
When we dated, secretly but officially, I was just waiting for the other shoe to drop. But it went on longer…and longer…and longer..and I..I got really fucking scared. The longer it got, the more anxious I got, the more paranoid, the more terrified. I was scared that any minute now, you'd wake up and realize how bad of an idea this is. Or you'll get too hurt and leave.
I was scared that you'd see all of my ugly and see it as that, ugly. I was scared that you'll come to your senses any minute and that you'll leave me. And I was scared that the next dejected expression you pull would be the one you'll have before leaving me. So…I left. I didn't want to be rejected by you so I thought if I left instead, then it wouldn't hurt as much. But it did. And I'm not sure what hurts more: staying with you or straying from you.
I wasn't okay…I haven't been for a long time, probably. I saw how guilty you are from hiding our relationship. And I saw how tired you get whenever I push you away. How angry you are inside but you're just so tired that you don't even argue with me.
I saw how awful our relationship got the longer we were together. But I couldn't fix my own issues and it kept affecting us. And you're so stressed and conflicted about your identity and you channeled it through your fights with me. We were both hurting. So why not end it, right?"
Peter nodded, "but the pain didn't stop."
Flash nodded, "yeah. It didn't."
"We have separate issues that weren't related to our relationship but we kept bringing it up and fueling our fights instead of working it out by supporting each other. And, in the end, we made everything worse.
We kept bottling things up and kept telling each other that we can talk about it together. But we didn't and instead of fixing the actual root cause of the detriment of our relationship, we ended up just making it worse. Because we were both too scared to be too vulnerable."
"We're so fucking stupid, aren't we?" Flash smilingly asked, sniffing slightly.
"We're seventeen," Peter shrugged with a faint chuckle. "I heard we were meant to make a lot of mistakes at this stage of our life."
"I miss you."
Peter looked up at Flash, "I do, too."
"I'm really sorry for hurting you, again."
"It'll happen again. But, if we can maybe do without the breaking up thing?"
Flash smiled a closed-lip smile, much closer than before, "yeah, I can do without the glares, actually."
"Maybe don't break up with me so harshly then."
"I don't think I'll be breaking up with you again."
"Are we just going to keep leaning in closer and talking or are we gonna kiss?"
Flash grinned and pressed their lips together. Peter's eyes fluttered shut and he leaned in, smiling against Flash's lips. He missed this. They missed this.
"Can you tell Jones not to give me a shovel talk two-point-o though? She's scary."
Peter laughed, "that's what you get for breaking my heart, love."
Flash smiled. Yeah, maybe he shouldn't have done the breaking up thing.