"I'm just gonna be myself," Peter declares. That's how he'll win Liz's affection. He doesn't need a fancy costume or a superhero persona. He'll just be himself, and she'll come to like him for who he really is, spider-ness aside.

Ned gapes at him. "Peter, no one wants that!"

Peter scoffs. "Dude!" God, can he have any support here? He's doing something good – something responsible. Spider-Man's not a party trick. He's a responsibility. And Peter's not going to pull out the webs just to make himself look good at–

"Penis Parker!" Flash yells from his DJ stand, microphone and all so the whole party can hear him. "What's up?"

Literally the entire room turns to stare at him. If there was a spotlight in Liz's living room, it would definitely be centered on him. Never before has Peter wanted so desperately for the floor to open up and swallow him whole.

"Where's your pal Spider-Man?" Flash asks sarcastically. "Let me guess: in Canada with your imaginary girlfriend?"

The room erupts into laughter.

Peter just stands there, frozen.

Fighting Captain America and his friends was so much easier than high school.

"That's not Spider-Man," Flash quips. "That's just Ned in a red shirt!"

Peter glances at his friend. Maybe he was right. Maybe he should bring out Spider-Man. Just this once, of course. Just to shut Flash up. And then maybe he'll mention to Liz real quick about how "his buddy Peter" is a great dude, but only because he'll already be there. He wouldn't go out of his way to use Spidey to further his social life, obviously. He's more mature than that.

But just this once...

The doorbell rings, but Peter doesn't pay it much mind. He's already plotting his escape. He'll find the bathroom – where does he find the bathroom? – and sneak out through the window and onto the roof. Nobody's going to find his clothes if he leaves them on the roof. And he'll swing by real quick, he'll do his handshake with Ned, he'll ask him where Peter is, he'll look for Liz and–

There's a collective gasp from the rest of the party guests. Peter whips around to see what everybody's staring at... And yes, it's pretty gasp-worthy.

Tony Stark is standing in the doorway, a smoothie in his hand and a subtle smirk on his face. His eyes scan the room, and Peter begins mentally debating whether he could escape before Tony sees him.

Unfortunately, Tony finds him before he can do that.

"Hey, Pete." Tony raises his smoothie toward him in greeting, and the other kids scramble out of the way as though he was Moses himself. Even Ned takes a few steps to the side. Peter wishes he could do the same. He doesn't know what he did to get Tony Stark to follow him to this party, but he's not sure he wants to find out.

Despite his wariness, Peter manages to squeak out an awkward, "Hi, Mr. Stark. What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I love partying with a bunch of sweaty, hormonal teenagers," Tony says sarcastically. "No, I'm looking for you."

Peter swallows hard.

Of course he is.

"I heard from Spider-Man," Tony tells him. "He got caught up with something. He's not sure he's gonna make it tonight."

There's an audible groan from the other kids. If he'd been any less terrified of what Tony's doing here, he'd take a look at Flash's face right now. He'd like to know how he's handling the revelation that Spider-Man was actually going to show up – or, possibly more excitingly, that Iron Man did show up.

Tony's gaze shifts to the boy next to them – using the phrase "next to" loosely; even he stepped away the moment Tony approached. "You must be Ned, then."

Ned's eyes go wide. "Uh, yeah," he stammers. "Err, yes. Sir. Yes, sir. I am. Yes." He plasters on a very fake, very uncomfortable smile.

Tony huffs, amused, and turns to MJ by his side. "And you are...?"

MJ cocks an eyebrow. "I am wondering why you as an adult man are talking to a teenage girl you don't know."

Tony blinks a few times, staring at her silently as he tries to formulate a response.

"Sorry," Peter says quickly. "Ignore her."

Tony looks at him questioningly. "So she's... not... another friend of yours."

"Well..." Peter glances at her awkwardly, and even though he's fairly sure she wouldn't take offense to him saying 'no' given that she herself has said that she doesn't have friends, a part of him would feel weird just saying that.

MJ steps in with an answer of, "I'm certainly not friends with a war profiteer whose company sold weapons to whoever was going to kill the most civilians with them."

Again, Tony is left speechless.

Peter, meanwhile, finds himself flinching at the comment. "MJ, please don't–"

But then Tony cuts him off, a slight smirk on his lips as he says, "Smart kid. Keep speaking your truth."

Now it's Peter's turn to stare at him wordlessly. That's his reaction? He likes her? Why is he...?

Tony's attention has already shifted. "Hey, they got snacks here?" he asks. "I'm starved."

And just like that, he walks away. Peter spares a nervous glance at Ned – who looks just as confused as he feels – before going after his mentor. Tony's in the kitchen, already stealing a piece of pizza. Peter gapes at him, as one is apt to do in the presence of one of the world's greatest heroes, though this probably isn't what most people would picture when they think of him. Why does he feel so comfortable here? He wasn't even invited! There's no reason for him to even be here!

"Mr. Stark–" Peter begins.

"Mm." Tony holds a hand up while he finishes chewing his first bite. "Oh, this is good. Where's this from?" He closes the lid of the box to read the name, then opens it back up. "Love this."

"Mr. Stark, what are you doing here?" Peter asks again, more emphatically this time.

"I told you, I'm looking for you," Tony says. "And also eating pizza."

Peter just stares at him, dumbfounded. Tony Stark really is his own breed.

Tony walks up to him and puts his smoothie-holding arm around his shoulders, his pizza held in the other hand. "Walk with me."

"Uh..."

Tony leads him back through the hall, where absolutely everyone is staring at them. If he's looking for some kind of positive out of this, at least now they know he's not lying about the Stark internship. (Except that he is, obviously, because it's not an internship, but he does spend all that time doing hero things, which basically makes it Stark-related).

"You're gonna have to open the door," Tony tells him. "My hands are full."

Peter was very much not aware that they were going outside, but, when they reach the front door, he slips out from under Tony's arm and opens the door for them. Tony gestures with his pizza for Peter to go first, and he spares a wary glance back at Ned before he steps outside. Tony follows shortly behind him, closing the door so they're alone.

Tony takes another bite of his pizza, and Peter just looks at him, waiting. What is he doing? What is even happening right now? He's reminded once again that life would have been so much easier if Ned hadn't gone around advertising his supposed friendship with Spider-Man. He could be out patrolling right now. It feels a lot easier than this.

As Tony finally finishes chewing, he says, "So. You're friends with Spider-Man now."

Peter grimaces. "It's really not–"

"No, no, I respect it," Tony tells him. "What's the fun of being a cool superhero if you can't brag about it, right?" He huffs. "I mean, I barely kept my identity a secret for a week."

"That's not quite what happened..." Peter says awkwardly.

"No?" Tony raises his brows. "You weren't gonna swing by in your Spidey suit that I know you're wearing under your clothes right now and tell everyone you guys are best friends?"

Peter frowns. Well, that he puts it like that... "How did you even find out about that?"

"I have my ways."

Peter just looks at him.

Tony rolls his eyes. "Your buddy Flash posted about it online," he says. "I figured I'd come spare you the trouble."

Peter cocks his head to the side. "What do you mean?"

"This is probably your first real high school party," Tony guesses. "Did I get that right?"

Peter nods.

"I thought so," he says. "Now, look, I know you like heroing. I know you want to help people. But you've gotta take a day and relax; be a kid for once. No Spider-ing around, okay?"

Peter frowns. "Mr. Stark..."

"I'm serious," Tony insists. "You've already dropped marching band and robotics club. What's next, academic decathlon?"

Peter stares at him in disbelief. "How did you...?"

Tony shrugs. "I pay attention."

Again, Peter just stares at him. Does this mean Happy actually does keep up with all his voicemails? Does Tony himself listen to all his voicemails? Oh, god, has Tony been listening to all of his rambling, churro-filled mission reports? He hopes not. That would be so embarrassing. That would be even more embarrassing than the fact that he was going to use his super secret superhero identity to make the other kids like him, and that has been more than enough embarrassment for one day.

Tony sighs. "Look, kid." He tosses his pizza in the grass, wipes the grease on his pants, and puts his hand on Peter's shoulder. "You're still young. I know it doesn't feel like it because no 15-year-old kid still feels like a kid, but you are. And you've still got a few years before you have to worry about adult things like jobs and mortgages and taxes. Don't waste it."

"I'm not wasting it!" Peter protests.

"Yes, you are," Tony insists. "I think it's great to have a nice, healthy dose of Spidering in your life, but you have to do other things. Have fun. Go to parties. Make friends — as yourself, without the suit."

Peter crosses his arms, and he doesn't even care if he looks like a pouty child right now. Tony mimics the movement, crossing his own arms (and then ducking his head to steal a sip of his smoothie, so he's clearly not taking this very seriously).

"Take a Spider break," Tony says. "I just announced to your whole school that you know Spider-Man. That is the best conversation starter a 15-year-old boy can have. Who's that — Liz, right? Go talk to Liz about Spider-Man. Trust me, you're leaving here with a date."

Peter smiles softly at the thought. He could do that. Everything's already set up for him. If he really thinks about it, this is arguably the best way tonight could have gone. And if he and Liz hit things off, maybe he can ask her to homecoming. Or maybe ask her on a date first — a real date; not a party with a hundred students — and then...

Wait.

Peter's frown fades away. "Mr. Stark, I don't have time to date."

Tony scoffs. "You're 15! You have all the time in the world!"

"No, I don't," Peter insists. How can he not see that?

"Yeah? What're you doing Wednesday night?" Tony asks.

"Patrolling," Peter says.

"What're you doing Thursday?"

"Patrolling."

"Friday?"

"Patrolling."

Tony very dramatically slaps his palm against his forehead. "This is exactly what I'm talking about."

"What is?" Peter asks, maybe a little defensively.

"You're only in high school once," Tony tells him, with a shocking amount of sincerity in his voice. "And anyone who says it's the best four years of your life is blatantly lying to your face, but it's also your last chance to be a kid. I know you want to be a hero, but..." He shakes his head to himself and raises his shoulders in a slight shrug. "You need to be a kid first. You had a good thing going on before I dragged you to Germany; a good balance. Now, it's like all you ever do is swing around the city."

"But Mr. Stark, I..."

I was doing it for you.

He catches himself before he says it; before he can embarrass himself further. He's been doing all of this for his approval. He's dropped all these clubs he loves; he's skipped classes and failed tests he should have passed; he's turned down afternoons with Ned, and for what? Because he thought Tony was going to invite him aboard his multi-apocalypse-ending group of heroes?

He's an idiot.

A stupid, unrealistic idiot.

Tony eyes him warily. "This is when you tell me that you know what you're doing and you don't need advice from a washed-up old man with a half-melted strawberry smoothie."

Peter shakes his head solemnly. "No, you're right," he admits. "I've been spending too much time as Spider-Man and not enough time as Peter Parker. Maybe..." He sighs. "Maybe it's time to hang up the suit for a while."

He almost feels he should give the suit back. He doesn't need it. Not really. He doesn't have a future in superhero-ing. He has some amazing abilities, but he's kidding himself if he thinks he can make something of it. He's just a 15-year-old kid from Queens. Nobody wants someone like him on their team of heroes.

But he can't bring himself to part with the suit forever. It has the chance to breathe new life into his social life tonight, now that he's supposedly friends with his own secret identity. And, more than that, it's become a part of him. He is Spider-Man. And even if he can't make something off that, even if he has no future with it, he doesn't want to lose it, either.

And yet, though that's almost exactly what Tony had wanted, that answer puts a frown on his face. "You switched up really quick there, kid."

Peter shrugs, wearing a small frown of his own. "You were right," he says again. That's all there is to it.

"Of course I'm right," Tony says. "I'm always right. But that doesn't mean you have to stop being Spider-Man."

"No, I know, and I'm not going to stop," Peter says. He can't stop. He can't be friends with Spider-Man if there is no Spider-Man. "I'm just... not gonna do it so much."

Tony presses his lips into a firm line, eyeing him wordlessly. Peter awkwardly clasps his hands behind his back. Did he say something wrong? He doesn't think he said anything wrong. But he must have said something wrong, so what did he say wrong?

"Okay," Tony says finally, "I feel like I said something wrong."

Peter stares at him. "You said something wrong?" But he thought–

"You look like I just kicked your puppy," Tony tells him, "and I have a firm no-puppy-kicking policy, so what's going on?"

"It's nothing," Peter says.

"No, it's definitely something," Tony says. "What's going on, kid?"

Again, Peter shakes his head, but this time, he does answer. His voice is quiet, barely a whisper to hide his disappointment as he asks, "I was never going to be an Avenger like you, was I?"

Tony's face softens at the question, and Peter looks at the ground, carefully avoiding his gaze. That was stupid. That was a stupid thing to ask. Of course he was never going to be an Avenger, and he's the only one who didn't know that.

"Is that what this is about?" Tony asks.

Peter shrugs sheepishly.

Tony sighs. "No, you're not going to be an Avenger," he says. "Not because I don't think you can handle it, but because I can't risk you getting hurt on my watch. I don't want to be the one to tell your aunt that you got yourself killed fighting our battles."

Peter nods solemnly. He understands that. If he was in Tony's shoes, he's sure he'd say the same thing. It doesn't make it hurt any less.

Tony puts a hand on Peter's shoulder, and reluctantly, he raises his gaze to meet his eye. "How about this?" he asks. "You can Spider it up three, four days a week, and, say, every other weekend, I'll have Happy take you up to the compound and you can fill us in on anything we missed, and we'll fill you in on what you missed."

Peter's eyebrows shoot up, eyes going wide. "Really?"

"Mm-hmm," Tony hums. "That sound like a fair compromise?"

"Absolutely," Peter says immediately. He gets to go to the Avengers' compound? He gets to talk to the Avengers? Sure, most of the traditional Avengers are war criminals now and nowhere to be found, but still! These are the Avengers! This is the best thing that's ever happened to him! He cannot wait to tell Ned.

"Okay," Tony says, "now, there's half a dozen kids staring at us out the window. What do you want to do about that?"

Peter blinks a few times. That was an unexpected change of subject. "I don't know," he says. "What are we supposed to do about it?" People are allowed to look out the window. He's fairly certain they can't stop them.

"I know teenagers think hugging adults is embarrassing," Tony says. "Are superhero adults exempt from that rule, or would that make you look bad?"

Peter gapes at him. "Are you serious?"

"Of course I'm serious," Tony says. "I'm always serious." (He is not always serious. Peter doesn't mention that.)

"That would not make me look bad at all," Peter says quickly. "That would make me look amazing."

Tony smirks. "I know it would," he says. "I just wanted to hear you say it."

Peter cracks a smile. He's so... him. There's no other way to describe it.

"Alright, c'mere," Tony says, spreading his arms.

Peter wastes no time stepping into them, wrapping his own arms around Tony's torso. He might be a little too enthusiastic right now and he's sure Tony can tell, but he doesn't really care. He'd almost started to think that Tony didn't care; that he used Peter to stop Captain America and then threw him aside when he wasn't useful anymore.

But he was wrong. Tony does care. He just has a unique way of showing it (which includes ignoring Peter's existence for a few months straight, but that's alright. He's a busy man. The fact that he found time at all to keep up with what he was doing means a lot.)

"I'll show you around the compound next weekend," Tony says quietly. "Until then, you want me to stay at your party and make you look good, or do you want me to go and you can take it from here?"

Admittedly, Peter's not sure he really needs Tony around tonight. He kind of feels like he has everything under control right now, and this little pep talk is just the confidence boost he needed. But, at the same time, this is the first he's seen Tony since Germany, and he kind of wants to take advantage of that.

So, after a pause, he says, "I think you should stay."

"Good choice," Tony says. He takes a sip of his smoothie over Peter's shoulder, then lets him go. "Alright, where's Liz? I want to talk to Liz."

Peter's eyes go wide. "What? No!"

Tony starts walking toward the door. "What's she look like?" he asks. "I bet she's pretty."

Peter chases after him. "No, Mr. Stark–"

"I told you you're leaving here with a date," Tony reminds him. "I'm gonna make sure of it."