September 25, 2019, 9:37 a.m.
Peter stared at the thermometer in disbelief.
This simply could not be happening.
After the spider bite, his temperature had never been higher than 35.7°C.
Why would it climb to 38.2°C?
It was not as if he could actually be sick, right?
Superheroes did not get sick.
People bitten by mutated spiders did not get sick.
Well.
More precisely, they had not.
Until now.
Peter shifted uncertainly from foot to foot, standing in front of the door to Tony’s office.
Maybe the thermometer had simply broken and there was no reason to worry.
But Peter, actually, felt honestly awful.
What could even make someone sick when that someone basically could not get sick?
Seriously, bullet wounds closed up on him in a day, so what kind of cold could they possibly be talking about?
Of course, deep down, Peter understood there was nothing to worry about.
Even if he had the plague right now, he would be completely healthy by tomorrow evening.
He really had run that experiment.
Well, not on himself, but on a sample of his DNA, in the lab, while following all safety rules – as much as being in the same laboratory as the plague bacterium could be considered safe at all – so there was no reason to worry that he had infected himself with the plague.
He still had to tell Tony, even if it was just a regular cold.
Peter simply had no idea where in this Tower one could find a Nurofen pill.
And if he asked F.R.I.D.A.Y., she would report it to Tony anyway, sending him into a panic.
Or, as Stark himself put it, ‘adding a few more gray hairs.’ “Um, Tony, are you busy?” Peter slipped quietly inside without bothering with such a formality as knocking.
Stark looked at him in surprise, tearing himself away from his papers, and tiredly rubbed his temples, gesturing for him to come in.
Peter would have been much more interested in studying his office, which, for some reason, he had still never been in before, but right now his head hurt too much.
“You’re awfully quiet, kiddo,” Tony noticed, lightly ruffling his hair – and immediately frowned.
“And warm.
Are you okay?
How do you feel?” “Yeah, that’s actually what I wanted to…” Peter suddenly started coughing, which made Tony frown even harder.
“I, um, think I’m sick.
You know, a cup of tea and some kind of pill would be really nice right now.” “But you’re not supposed to get sick,” Tony said in confusion, getting up from his chair.
Great.
Apparently, now he was dropping his work because of him.
“Yeah, well.” Another coughing fit.
“This is the first time since that spider bit me.
Do we have honey?” Tony gave the kid an annoyed look that said, I’m a billionaire, what do you think, do I have honey at home?
while at the same time asking F.R.I.D.A.Y.
to call Bruce.
Peter only blinked in confusion, blaming himself for distracting two people from work because of his impossible cold.
He wanted to tell Tony that there was no need to worry and he only needed some kind of pill, but Stark sharply interrupted him with a look that said, Are you out of your mind?
Peter could already distinguish all of Tony’s existing displeased looks and had given them names.
“Shut up and come on.
I’ll make you a cup of tea with honey.
Or a jar,” Tony added sarcastically, though worry was splashing in his eyes.
Of course he was worried.
His kid had some unknown and potentially deadly illness!
Peter sat on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, watching some movie and drinking tea.
Bruce, after grumbling a little that he was not, in fact, a pediatrician, examined Peter and concluded that he had an ordinary cold.
Tony protested for a while, sighing dramatically and saying, “Am I the only one who remembers that he can’t get sick?
Maybe you should examine him again?
Yes, I understand you’re sure, but what if it’s smallpox?” At the same time, relief was clear in his eyes.
When Bruce got tired of listening to an over-worried Tony, he left, prescribing Peter a day of rest, hot tea, and sleep, leaving the main task of fighting the virus to his regeneration.
Parker even thought Bruce was trying to escape as quickly as possible before Tony started complaining for the fifth time.
Peter hoped that since Dr.
Banner had said everything was fine, Tony would just leave him and go back to work.
He absolutely did not want to distract him from important things, especially over something so trivial.
Although something inside him asked for Tony to stay, Peter decided that would already be too much.
When Stark left, muttering something about ‘a whole mountain of documents,’ Peter was not sure what he felt.
On the one hand, it was relief, because distracting such a busy person from work was too childish.
On the other hand, it was a little upsetting that he would have to sit here alone.
Peter had already been ready to accept his fate and return to watching what was, frankly speaking, not the most interesting movie, when Tony appeared in the room again with a pile of papers in his hands.
Feeling Peter’s surprise, he awarded him another displeased look – You thought I’d leave you here alone?
– making the kid laugh.
“Move over,” Tony ordered shortly, dumping the papers onto the table and dropping down beside Peter.
“And stop looking so surprised.
I still have to fill all this out, and your face is distracting.” Peter giggled quietly, laying his head on Tony and hoping it would not interfere with his writing too much, then turned toward the screen.
Stark muttered something about stupid kids, hugged the child, and slipped his free hand into the little spider’s hair, carefully beginning to sort through his curls.
Peter was not sure at what exact moment he fell asleep.
Probably not even halfway through the movie.
But Tony was still sitting beside him, signing one document after another and not stopping playing with his hair.
That strange habit of his was far too sweet and probably unconscious, so even the team, when they noticed it, did not start making fun of him.
When Peter woke up, he felt much better.
He even felt a little ashamed that he had bothered Tony over it.
And then he realized he was still lying on something warm and breathing.
Oops.
Tony, already having noticed that the kid was awake, smiled and set aside the document he had been reading somewhere farther away.
Peter realized that apparently he had been sleeping on Tony the whole time.
It was not exactly the first time, but Parker still got embarrassed.
“You know, I liked you better while you were asleep.” Tony shifted away slightly, noticing the embarrassment that crossed the kid’s face, and stretched.
“If you start fussing around or apologizing for sleeping, I’ll have to complain to Pepper.” Tony smirked, understanding from Peter’s confused face that this was exactly what he had planned to do.
The little spider smiled timidly, getting up and stretching his limbs.
“I’ll send Bruce a card.
He was right.
Nothing heals like a healthy six-hour sleep,” Tony remarked, getting up from the couch and ignoring Peter’s completely stunned face.
“I slept for six hours?” Horror appeared on the kid’s face, and Tony only laughed.
“You sat with me for six hours?” “Yep,” Stark replied carelessly, forming the documents into a neat stack, probably intending to give them to Pepper.
“I have to say, those were the best six hours of paperwork I’ve ever had.
We’ll do it again sometime.
Or I’ll lend sleeping-you to Pepper.
I think she’ll like it.” Tony, chuckling slyly, picked up the documents, ruffled Peter’s hair – Peter strongly resembling a fish thrown onto land – and left the room, leaving the kid frozen in silent shock.
No, seriously, he had just spent six hours sleeping on Tony Stark!
Peter took a shocked sip of tea, slowly breaking into a smile, and then froze in disbelief again.
It had only just reached him, but had Tony said, “We’ll do it again sometime”?