Spider-Son & Iron Dad two shots

Teenage Dirtbag, Baby

a/n: short lil oneshot with mcu!flash because sorry gang I just can't help but like him lmao

There's a certain way that secret identities go. Peter Parker in particular balances on a tightrope between what he says and does on a daily basis. He goes to school, he sits through his classes, he eats lunch with Ned, he turns in his homework— He comes home, he puts on a suit, and then Spider-Man takes over for the rest of the night getting up to anything Queens needs fixed.

Last night, Queens needed Spider-Man to protect a man from being mugged in a dark corner in Middle Village, so now Peter Parker walks into school with bandaged stitches holding a stab wound closed.

It's fourth period, the only class Peter has without Ned. The classroom door is locked, the teacher wrapping up a meeting with a student who's in testing, and Peter's doing his best to hinder his tired glare as Flash rambles on and on about his disbelief of a certain Stark Internship.

"I'm just saying," Flash scoffs. "It doesn't make sense that nobody else can even find a link or news article talking about internship entries, and you've never actually given any proof except for a photoshopped picture of you two together."

"It's not photoshopped," Peter replies lamely.

Flash rolls his eyes. "Yeah, you say that, but your hand is like, way above Tony Stark's head, and the 'certificate' is upside-down. Aren't you in a photo editing class?"

"Photography with Ms. Hayden," Peter corrects. He sighs. "You really think that if I wanted to make something fake, I would purposely add in stuff like an upside down certificate?"

"No," Flash scrunches his nose up. He shifts on his feet. "I just think you don't actually know what you're doing, Parker. And you definitely don't have an internship with Tony Stark. It's such a stupid thing to lie about."

Peter huffs with dry amusement. "A stupid thing to lie about is how your name isn't actually Flash."

Flash glares. "I never said that, dickwad. It's a nickname. Just like your real name isn't actually Penis Parker."

"I'm too tired to deal with this right now," Peter says honestly, running a hand over his face. "Can you like, go bother anyone else? Or just— The door's probably gonna open in like, a minute. Is it impossible for you to be quiet for sixty seconds?"

"Who peed in your offbrand cornflakes?" Flash crosses his arms. "Just tell the truth and I'll leave you alone. Admit it, Parker— You don't have an internship with Stark, you made it up."

"I'm not gonna admit something that's not true!" Peter snaps. "God, Flash, just shut up!"

Flash shoves Peter into the locker. "Just admit it! You're a liar and you don't have an internship!"

Peter hits the back of the cool metal at just the wrong edge, and cries out in genuine pain as he feels his stitches tear. Sinking against the back of the locker, he hovers a hand over the wound, his face squishing up, nose flaring, teeth gritting, eyebrows furrowing.

"I— Oh shit, are you okay?" Flash asks immediately.

"Fine," Peter says, his voice coming out strained. "Peachy."

"I didn't— I didn't think I hit you that hard," Flash stumbles. "Holy— Is that blood?!"

Peter looks down at his torso, feeling the spread of excessive warmth through his sweater that's the tell-tale sign of blood. The crimson blooms out from the navy. He curses under his breath.