A/N: This is a cross-post of a fic I wrote a couple years ago after Homecoming came out. I'm planning to post the final chapter in a few days, but if you're impatient, the whole thing is available on ao3 under the same username I have here.

"Hey, Mr. Stark?"

Tony looks up from his phone, sending Peter a curious glance from behind his expensive sunglasses. "Hmm?"

Peter fidgets. "You, uh, you know how to get in touch with Captain America, right? You have his phone number?"

Tony's eyes narrow. "Of course I do. What's this about, Peter?"

"Well…," says Peter. Then he laughs, nervous. "I kind of need a very specific favor."

Two days later, Peter's standing on a rooftop in Brooklyn across from the Captain America, which he's a bit starstruck about even though this technically isn't the first time they've met. But he keeps his cool, he thinks. He hopes. Peter took off his mask sometime between swinging onto the roof and spotting the actual American hero standing next to him, holy shit, so his awe is probably written all over his face.

Peter rocks back on his heels while Captain America — Steve Rogers — Captain America! — mulls over his question.

"You want me to be a guest speaker at one of your decathlon practices?" Steve clarifies, after a silence that's just long enough to border on awkward. "Me? I think I'm technically still a fugitive."

Peter shrugs, says, "You seemed more approachable than the Winter Soldier."

Steve still looks dubious, but Peter can tell the captain's fighting a smile.

So he widens his eyes a little and tries to make himself look endearing, not above using dirty tactics to get what he wants. "Please?"

Steve sighs. Gives in. "All right."

"Yes!" Peter makes a high-pitched, excited noise that he would later describe as totally dignified, and not a squeal, stop smirking, Michelle — and says, gushing, "Thank you so much, Mr. Rogers! Thank you, thank you, thank you! You won't regret this."

Steve's arms remain firmly crossed across his chest, but there's a reluctant smile on his face when he says, "I'd better not."

The team's studying the Economics Guide when it happens. Mr. Harrington says, "Of course, the sale of war bonds increased dramatically after the debut of the Captain America USO tour —"

— and, as if on cue, a window at the back of the room shatters and a fully-uniformed supersoldier rolls in. Never let it be said that Steve Rogers doesn't know how to make a dramatic entrance.

"Sorry about that," Steve says after standing up from his crouch, brushing shards of glass off of himself nonchalantly and nodding in the direction of the window he came in through. Or, well, the frame of the window he came in through. Then he smiles winningly at the room at large and says, "I heard you guys are learning about World War II."

Flash drops his pencil. Peter hears him mutter "Oh my God" under his breath and has a moment of smug satisfaction.

Mr. Harrington's face is priceless. Peter's never seen anyone so stunned, except for maybe the old lady whose cat he'd swung out of traffic on patrol last month. (That was a long story.) Eventually Mr. H gathers himself enough to say, "I-it's an honor to meet you, Captain Rogers."

Steve grins. "Likewise."

Then he saunters over to the front of the room and leans against the edge of Mr. Harrington's desk, casually, as if breaking into classrooms is something he does every day. Considering what he does for a living, this probably seems tame to him.

"Peter recruited me to come speak to you today," says Steve, before winking in Peter's direction like they're sharing an inside joke.

I'm going to owe him so many favors after this, Peter thinks.

"I can't believe you know Captain America," Flash says, later, turning around in his desk to face Peter. "Captain America. How do you know Captain America?"

"And Spider-Man," Ned says, helpfully. There's a reason why he's Peter's best friend.

Flash looks ready to start tearing his hair out. "How?"

Peter says, "What can I say? I'm a man with many connections."

Michelle snorts.