Just Another Day in the Life of Peter Parker

The Enemy Trap: Pt. 1

Flash opened his eyes slowly, letting consciousness fade in. Everything was bright. He squeezed his eyes shut, pulling the thin blankets over his head. Everything was loud too. The cars roaring past outside, the popping of toast outside his room, people walking above him, someone listening to music below him. It was all amplified; he could here what felt like every tiny little thing that moved or rustled. Flash pulled the pillow around his head, and that's when it hit him. This wasn't his bed. His bed was a large, queen-sized one with silk sheets in the middle of a large room that was definitely not near a busy street. This bed was hardly a single, with fading blue cotton sheets pushed up into the corner of the small room. This wasn't his house. 

He bolted upright, pulling the blankets off his legs and froze. His skin was normally a rich olive colour, thanks to his Guatemalan and Italian heritage, but these legs were pale. Like, west European, lives off the coast of Ireland pale.

This wasn't his body. He ran to the mirror and gasped. A pair of wide, hazel eyes stared back, half covered by a mop of hazelnut curls. A white scar mingled with the light freckling on his nose and he was shorter than usual, with long, gangly limbs hanging from an oversized t-shirt and boxers.

"Peter! Breakfast's ready!"

Flash was no longer Flash Thompson.

He was Peter Parker.

Flash whirled around and pulled on a pair of bright pink Hello Kitty pyjama pants (why the heck Parker owned these he would never know,) and walked out into the rest of the cramped apartment. A Italian woman in navy scrubs was running around with hair pins in her mouth and she pulled her long, dark hair into a neat bun. "Toast's on the counter" she said hurriedly, rushing to fill up a drink bottle. "I'm going to be late! Where are my keys?"

Flash held up the the keys next to his stack of toast. 

"Oh thank you." May took them, ruffling his curls. "Stay safe, don't die, call Tony or MJ if you get hurt, I've got a double shift so I won't be back until tomorrow morning." She stopped, studying his face. "You okay? You look a bit dazed. Are you sick?"

"Oh, no, just still waking up." Flash gave her a small laugh and she smiled, kissing him on his forehead.

"Okay. Now I've really gotta go. There's still leftover pizza in the fridge!"

"Got it!"

"I larb you!" And with that she was out the door, leaving Flash alone in his nemesis' apartment. He took the time to look around, observing the small home. The apartment was old, definitely, and was filled with odd bits of furniture they'd had for years. Any cabinet or shelving unit had some form of picture on it, ranging from May's wedding to pictures of her and Peter. There was one of Peter as a small boy, sitting on another man's shoulders. That must be Ben. 

Flash glanced at the clock and panicked. He was going to be late for school. He tore into Peter's room, running back out to grab a piece of toast (gosh he was starving-) and went hunting through the drawers to find something suitable for school. How did Peter even get to school? Train? He thought so, but what time? And from what station? And why were his thoughts so fast and loud and what classes would Peter have and would he be there? Was he in Flash's body? And would he have any tests or anything and was there homework due and he really should ask someone like Ned and MJ but would they think something was off or was Peter always this forgetful-

"OH MY GOSH PARKER! HOW DO YOU TURN YOUR BRAIN OFF!?" It didn't help that he had a song playing on loop at the back of his mind while another part was planning out the day. It was honestly tiring. He yanked a drawer open and the handles came flying off with ease. Flash stared at the knobs in his hands, then back at the now broken drawer. Whoops...