"Mister-"
"Doctor." Stephen immediately corrects.
Peter's teacher ignores him. "Mister Strange. I was hoping both you and Mister Stark would be here."
Oh, he already hated this teacher. He may not practice anymore but others still consulted with him and he was one of the Avengers doctors. Mainly Peter's because that boy, like Tony, had no sense of self-preservation. Especially when someone was in danger. If it Peter couldn't get them out of the way, he would step in and take the damage himself.
Stephen's eyebrow twitches in annoyance. "He's on his way. A meeting ran late."
"Very well. I suppose we can start with his behavior in class."
"His...behavior?"
"Yes. He is constantly talking with Mr. Leeds, he has fallen asleep in class a couple of times, and on multiple occasions he has disrupted my class to either ask to go to the nurse or to the restroom."
While the first two problems were adequate reasons to be upset with Peter, the third had Stephen's head spinning. He personally wrote a note to each of the teen's teachers and his principal about Peter's sensory overload attacks, and what to look out for. His attacks had happened since then and none of his teachers complained except for this one. Stephen always wondered why Peter still came home looking defeated. Whenever he felt his senses dial up and tried to get somewhere at least quieter to calm down before it turned into overload, this asshole wouldn't let him.
"Wait a minute." The doctor holds his hand up to stop the teacher before he can continue. "He has a legitimate excuse to go to the nurse or the bathroom when he asks. He periodically suffers from sensory overload."
Peter's teacher, Mr. Smith from the small nameplate on his desk, raises an eyebrow. "I've asked for a note from his doctor."
Stephen really wanted to send this guy free-falling for the next ten years.
"I am his doctor, Mr. Smith, and I did send a note."
"I've done my research, you were a neurosurgeon. Not a pediatrician. I need a real note, from the proper doctor."
"What did you just say?" The sorcerer snarls as he stands and the classroom door opens.
"Down Mama Bear." Tony says calmly as he walks in and takes the empty seat beside his husband, and pulls his glaring lover back into his own seat. "Just because he specialized in neurology, does not mean he didn't study other fields. Stephen is Peter's doctor as well as his parent, so not only did you ignore a real doctor's note, you also ignored specific instructions from a concerned parent. He knows what will help our son through his episodes. You do not."
Tony says all of this as he removes his sunglasses and Stephen reigns in his temper. Usually he was the calmer parent trying to keep Tony from suing everybody, and here they were, roles reversed. The engineer came just in time too because the sorcerer was pretty sure he was close to foaming at the mouth. This teacher was either a complete moron or had it out for Peter.
Maybe both.
Mr. Smith nods stiffly. "My apologies. I'll be sure to be more lenient."
Liar, Stephen thought.
"Is there anything else?" Tony asks.
"There is the matter of his homework and his tests." The teacher says as he pulls out some of the teen's work and pushes it over to the couple. "While he gets all the answers right, it's the way he gets to the solution that I have to mark him down for."
Stephen takes some of the papers and looks through it, and tilts his head as he studies the work. It went without saying that Peter was using different means than what his teacher was showing the class to get to his answers, and Mr. Smith wasn't happy about it. It always irked the sorcerer when people were expected to do things a certain way, when there was almost always another, simpler way to get to the same conclusion. The teacher probably felt inadequate with Peter's brilliance.
The doctor had to hold back a smirk at the thought.
"What's the issue?" Tony asks. "He's getting the same answers as anyone else, he's just using a different method."
"He's using more advanced formulas than I teach."
Stephen raises an eyebrow. "Why not transfer him to an advanced class then? This obviously isn't enough of a challenge for him."
"This is AP Chemistry, Doctor."
"I stand by what I said." The sorcerer says flatly and the teacher's face turns red.
Tony sighs. "We'll talk to him about talking in class and doing the work you teach, but if we find out that you're keeping him from handling his episodes again, I can and will sue you for potential child endangerment and discrimination, at least. Do not test me."
Both parents return the papers to the teacher, and leave the room after moving to their feet without so much as a goodbye or a handshake. They were both pissed at the chemistry teacher's neglect, and that he had called them in to waste their time. This all could have been settled over the phone and without the insult toward Stephen's medical expertise.
Said sorcerer shoves his hands into his jacket with a low grumble and walks past his son sitting on a bench outside the classroom. "Cub."
Bambi-like eyes widen and Peter scrambles after Stephen as he throws his backpack over his shoulder. Tony follows behind them in uncharacteristic silence as his husband continues to seethe, and Peter looks back at him when he senses his mother's ire.
"Am I in trouble?"
Stephen comes to a sudden stop, causing the teen to run into him, and he turns to regard Peter with (what he hopes is) a gentle smile. "No. I'm just angry with your teacher."
Tony finally catches up with them and claps Peter on his shoulder. "Just try not to talk in class...and I know it sucks, but use the formulas he's teaching you."
"They're so stupid though! It makes things way more difficult than they need to be!" Peter complains.
Tony chuckles. "That's school for you. Keep the formula adjustments to lab time and Bruce alright? Your teacher can't handle your brilliance." Peter and his father grin at each other.
"More importantly, do any of your other teachers keep you from dealing with your sensory attacks?" Stephen asks curiously.
"No. My other teachers just let me leave if I need to. They told me not to bother asking and just do what I need to do. I only tell them I'm going if we're not in a classroom." Peter replies.
The sorcerer exhaled softly. "Good. If your chemistry teacher gives you anymore trouble, you let us know. Understand?"
"Yeah."
"Anything fragile in your backpack?"
Peter scrunches his nose. "No. Why?"
Stephen motions for the bag and Peter laughs when the sorcerer tosses it through a portal when he hands it over.
"Your father is buying us dinner."
Tony rolls his eyes. "I'm so glad we had that conversation Stephanie. Quick question though. Where was I?"
"You were there in ego."
"Don't you mean spirit?" Peter asks.
"Nope." Stephen answers, putting emphasis on the 'p'.
After a quick glance around the empty school hallway, Tony sneaks a pinch to Stephen's ass as a comeback and the sorcerer nearly jumps out of his skin as he whips around to glare at his husband. The engineer grins at the grumbled 'douchebag', and Stephen turns back to Peter to lead him out of the school with his hand in soft curls.
There was a cafè nearby that he had seen a few times on his way to Peter's school before and he'd been meaning to give it a try. They just had to walk around the work being done in the sewers. It was no problem either. They avoided anything surrounded by a variety of orange objects, and were in the clear.
At least they thought so until Peter suddenly disappeared.
Tony and Stephen stop and look around, look up, and then when they look down, they notice the open manhole. The one thing not surrounded by orange cones and of course Peter fell into.
"Underoos?"
"It's so gross down here!" Peter's whine echoes from below and both parents bite their lip to stifle their laughter.
"I suppose we'll have to try the cafe later." Stephen chuckles.
"Hey Mom? Are rat/alligator hybrids a thing? I think I just saw one!" Tony leans just a little closer to try and make out the teen's words. "A ratigator."
"Oh. Yes. They like to eat spiders." Stephen says non-chalantly.
"WHAT?!"
Tony grins at the doctor. "You're such an asshole."
"When the opportunity presents itself."
"STOP FLIRTING AND HELP ME!"