Tony wondered which ice cream place would generate the least fuss if Iron Man walked in and bought a couple of cones. Or cartons. Yeah, that would be better. Peter loved this stuff, he thought as he descended upon some 16 Handles place.

"Frozen yogurt?" he muttered a minute later. "Well, alright."

He got two of the biggest possible cups and filled them to the brim with every flavor that looked good, making a mental note to ask Peter what he wanted next time. This was going to be disgusting. On his way back Tony saw at least two tourists snapping pictures of Iron Man flying by with frozen yogurt in hand. That'd make a cool desktop background. He should look for it online later.

Peter was clearly waiting for the door to open. "Hey, fro-yo! Even better!"

"How is frozen yogurt better than actual ice cream?" Tony demanded, handing Peter his cup. Peter drew back his mask enough to get food into his face and started stuffing himself. "Also, this is going to be nasty, I forgot to ask what you wanted."

"This is perfect," said Peter. At least, that's what Tony thought the kid had said; his mouth was already so full of frozen yogurt that it was hard to tell that he had said anything at all, honestly.

Tony couldn't reply. He started poking his spoon at the fro-yo mountain monstrosity he'd concocted. "What flavor's this?" he asked Peter, pointing to one particularly bright blue patch.

"You're doing it wrong, Mr. Stark. You gotta just eat it. Take a scoop with your spoon." Tony did so, still eyeing the blue. "And now put that in your mouth."

Tony closed his eyes and tried it. It… didn't kill him. Okay, that wasn't so bad. It was almost good. He could definitely acquire a taste for this.

Peter cheered for only a second before resuming his terrifyingly efficient attack on the fro-yo in front of him. "See," he paused to swallow, "the trick is to just keep eating so your tongue goes too numb to tell if you like it or not. Ow! Ow ow ow."

Tony was on his feet immediately. Peter was clutching at his head and making a noise like whimpering. "What is it? What's wrong? Should I call those doctors back in? Is it-"

"Brain freeze," wheezed Peter.

"You little jerk," said Tony, sinking back into his seat. "I have heart problems, you know."

The rest of their snack was finished in near-silence. Not perfect silence, because it was continually broken by giggles from Peter at the occasional gagging sound from Tony.

"Oh," said Tony abruptly, after a couple of minutes of this. "Your aunt is going to kill someone."

"I was supposed to be in-"

"Fourth period, yeah," completed Tony. "What did you tell your friends? Anyone know where you were going?"

Peter fidgeted. "I mean… I kind of implied it. I couldn't say too much, because… I should call."

Tony passed his phone to Peter, and then took it back. "Never mind, I don't want your friend to have this number. I'll ask SHIELD for a burner to borrow or something."

He started to rise. "It can wait!" Peter burst out. "Don't- don't go."

"Okay." Tony returned to his seat. "Fine. Sorry."

"Thanks for the fro-yo, Mr. Stark," said Peter, in an obvious attempt to gloss over the emotional tension. "It was sweet."

"That had better not be a pun, kid. You know those are my thing."

Peter grinned. "It might have been. There's no need to ice-scream at me."

"Dear lord, that one was worse," said Tony, raising his eyes to the ceiling. "I've created a monster."

"Are you going to finish that?" Peter pointed at the rest of Tony's fro-yo.

Tony pushed it over to him without a word, hand on his stomach. Where did the kid put all of that? And how did he keep it down? Ugh.

"FRIDAY? Remind me never to eat this stuff again."

A bing in his ear. "Reminder stored. Frozen yogurt has been added to the list of regretted foods consumed once and not again. Would you like to go through the list now?"

"No," said Tony quickly, seeing the look of curiosity on Peter's face. He pointed at the wide eyes. "This is not ending up on… on Instagram, or Tumblr, alright?"

"Wouldn't dream of it," said Peter innocently, but his face said plainly that he knew full well that Tony had no idea what secret account Peter had on either platform.

"You better not," grumbled Tony, already planning to enlist Pepper's help in combing the internet for this. "I'm a techie, I'll find it."

"You mean you'll get Pepper to find it for you?"

"You're lucky I like you."

Peter smiled. "I know."

Peter was feeling much better after consuming something like ten pounds of frozen yogurt in one sitting, which probably wasn't the usual reaction to that feat. But he was smiling and his entire abdomen was numb with drugs and cold, so what did he care?

"Can I get back now? It's probably about dismissal time by now. I think I must have missed lunch." Peter thought about his backpack, still webbed to the roof with his civilian clothes.

"Did I just buy you twenty pounds of cold dairy for lunch?" Mr. Stark was staring at the empty cups with dawning horror. "Wait, what time is it?"

"I'd say it was more like ten pounds," said Peter as FRIDAY answered, "It is forty-five minutes past one o'clock."

"FRI, we've talked about this. Quarter to two, or one forty-five, none of this 'forty-five minutes past' stuff. You're better than that. You sound like a smartwatch."

"I'd certainly hate to be a disappointment," Peter could hear FRIDAY say from next to Mr. Stark's ear, and if AI could smile she definitely would have been smiling. "I could be replaced by Apple technology."

Tony scoffed. "No, you couldn't."

Peter cleared his throat. "Hey, uh, class? School? Remember those?"

"Not really, thank god," said Tony absently, and then he seemed to realize what Peter had meant. "Oh! Right. Yeah, I'll see about getting you discharged. Give me a second?"

He looked at Peter. Peter looked back, confused. What was he waiting for? And then he remembered his own don't go, and he stammered, "Uh, yeah, go, I'm fine."

"Alright. Holler if you need me."

Mr. Stark was back in seven minutes and thirty-seven seconds, or four hundred and fifty-seven seconds, which Peter had absolutely not counted while waiting. "C'mon. You've got places to be."

Peter hadn't been back on the school campus for longer than twenty seconds before Ned was bowling him over. Literally. "Dude! Where were you?"

"Oof," Peter muttered against a t-shirt, "you're on my face."

"Sorry," Ned said, standing up and dusting himself off before extending a hand. "You alright?"

"Ow."

"Sorry! Whoa, how did that hurt you, don't you have, like-"

Peter shushed him before he could finish the sentence. "I've… had a weird lunch break," he said carefully. "And you will never believe where I went."

"I'm gonna bet you can't tell me here," sighed Ned. "Classified information. Avengers only."

"Spiderman's not an Avenger," Peter said automatically. "Yet, anyway. But I'll definitely tell you everything after school."

"This had better be good," he heard, and there was MJ, her arms folded but not angry so much as intrigued. "You disappeared for the entire fourth period and lunch. I thought your aunt texted you? Why are you back?"

"I- it wasn't that bad," he said, fumbling for a believable story he hadn't already used. "She, um, she sliced herself in the kitchen by mistake and she's really bad with blood, so she overreacted."

"Isn't she a nurse?"

"So what'd I miss?" Peter asked Ned, pretending he hadn't heard. Ned obliged and pulled out some notes that were mostly doodles. "Wait. This isn't for my class."

"No, but these are." MJ produced some hardly-better notes, but they were definitely for Peter's fourth period.

"I thought you weren't in this class?"

MJ shrugged. "Bio didn't miss me. I never raise my hand in that class anyway."

Peter stared at her. "Thanks," he said finally. She rolled her eyes.

"Whatever, Jedi boy."

"Oh man! This weekend! Can you believe it?" Ned said, bouncing as they walked back to the building. "I hope we get good seats, and…"

Yeah, Peter thought, my friends are the best.