Peter and Tony Stark
Hopefully, Peter would never learn of the other kinds—the kinds that tasted so much better than beer. Or, at least, that he wouldn’t make poor choices when he did.
“Arcades?” Peter perked up at that word. His smile brightened. “Shows are good, too. I mean, I’m up for pretty much anything. I’m glad to be somewhere with tall buildings,” he added, almost sheepishly. The spider in him missed swinging.
“That sounds really good. I do miss powerful water pressure. Is there anything we can do back home to fix the pressure?” Peter asked, glancing over Tony’s shoulder at the hotel, then back to his mentor.