Work Text:
Hey, Underoos, you alright?”
Peter’s head snapped up, the spiderling quickly attempting to rub the sting out of his eyes.
“Y-yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Peter answered, Tony giving him an unimpressed look.
“Kid, you’ve been spacing out all afternoon, ya seem to have the sniffles too, and a sore throat.” Tony crossed his arms, leaning against the workbench.
“I do NOT have the “sniffles,” Mr. stark!” Peter defended. Sure, he hadn’t been feeling the best today, but spiderman didn’t GET sick! His immune system had gotten much better since the spider-bite.
At that moment, a rather aggressive sneeze made its presence known, followed by a coughing fit.
Mr. Stark handed the boy a tissue and raised an eyebrow.
“I feel fine, Mr. Stark, really, you don’t need to worry.”
Tony gave a sigh and sat back down, Peter barely registering the action, nor the muddy sound of a tissue box being placed next to him.
The afternoon went on fairly normally, with the addition of increasingly more.. worried? Concerned? No, that couldn’t be right, Peter thought, glances from Mr. Tony.
.
.
.
“-ou sure you’re alright, Pete?”
Peter’s head tilted at the voice, the brunette giving a mumble of affirmation after a moment. Minute? Peter rubbed his eyes again, there must be something in there, everything was too blurry.
Peter stared down at the mechanical parts in front of him, taking a deep breath (attempting to) breath through his nose. Allen wrench.
Peter stood up, a muffley voice coming from behind him as he took a few steps before the world span.
Peter’s hands shot out to his sides, attempting and failing at regaining his balance.
The spiderling stumbled back to the workbench and leaned against it, head heavy.
“-id! PETER!”
The boy’s eyes drooped as a pair of arms wrapped around him, Peter dropping his weight against Tony. “Mis’r Tony, Can I take n’nap?”
Peter mumbled the words out, face limply squished against the humming arc-reactor.
Whatever the billionaire’s reply was fell on damp ears, Pete already passed out.
=>.<=
When Peter woke up, he felt like SHIT. In fact, perhaps that was an understatement.
The brunette cracked an eye open, lids still trying to droop closed. Peter’s nose was basically non-functional, and he shied away from the glaring light that was causing a pulsing pain behind his eyes.
Peter curled closer to the warm body under him, mind scrambling to piece together who it was.
“mph, hey kiddo.”
Peter scrunched his face up before mumbling something out, still not sure he was correct.
“..dad.?”
Peter felt them still before a deep chuckle sounded. “Hey Pete, feeling any better?”
“No, feel’slike shit.” Peter responded almost immediately, another chuckle sounding from the other person.
The two stayed like that for a while before Peter fell back under sleep.
Needless to say, when Peter woke up for apparently the 5th time, a couple days later, he was fully horrified at calling Tony “Dad,” no matter how brightly the man was smiling at every replay of Friday’s footage.