Actions

Work Header

Rating:
Archive Warning:
Category:
Fandom:
Relationships:
Characters:
Additional Tags:
Language:
English
Stats:
Published:
2022-05-07
Updated:
2022-09-12
Words:
5,554
Chapters:
5/6
Comments:
58
Kudos:
681
Bookmarks:
72
Hits:
15,337

5 times Peter Parker falls asleep in an uncomfortable position

Summary:

And 1 time he falls asleep like a normal person

Notes:

Here we go! Six small chapters for me to explore my love of sleepy Peter and my obsession with him falling asleep anywhere that isn't a bed😂 There will be some injury/illness/whump to come and I will add tags as I post each chapter.

Huge thanks to the incredibly talented SticcyFiccies for your endless encouragement, thoughtful feedback and wonderful friendship. Thanks for drawing me into this fandom with your perfection that is Roo-niverse and for putting up with me.

Chapter 1: Uncomfortable (Exhaustion)

Chapter Text

Peter Parker can fall asleep anywhere . 

It’s something Tony discovers early on, when Peter is still in high school and starts spending his Friday evenings at the Tower to work in the lab. The more time that he spends with the kid, the more Tony realizes that Peter is really something else. He’s incredibly smart, remarkably polite for a teenager, and has boundless energy that sometimes makes Tony’s head spin. After knowing the kid for all of six months, he theorizes that Peter’s brain and body are so active that he simply can’t rest until he’s forced to—he’s like a puppy, bouncing around adorably until he crashes hard. 

Not only can Peter fall asleep anywhere, he does , and Tony’s not sure if it’s due to Peter’s terrible sleep habits that rival his own or the fact that he’s an incredibly flexible superhero that he’s always managing to find the most uncomfortable positions to fall asleep in. Sitting up at the table in the lab, head propped up by one hand. Curled up sideways in an armchair when he’s watching TV in the common room. Just the thought of falling asleep in a car makes Tony’s neck hurt, but Peter does it on the regular, his cheek pressed up against the window like it’s a pillow. Hell, Tony’s pretty sure Peter could fall asleep crawling around on the ceiling. 

When the kid, who’s honestly the most energetic human being Tony has ever met in his entire life, shows up one Friday afternoon to work in the lab looking exhausted , it makes Tony’s heart clench with something he realizes is worry. Five minutes in, when Peter hasn’t said much other than a greeting, Tony realizes that the silence he often jokes about wishing for when he’s with Peter is actually quite unsettling.

“How was school?” Tony asks, mind racing as he wonders whether Peter is injured, or sick, and considers not for the first time whether he should really be encouraging a high schooler to go out into the city every night to fight crime. He studies the dark circles under Peter’s eyes and feels like he could be looking into a mirror.

“School was fine, Mr. Stark.” Peter plasters on that damn charming smile of his and raises one shoulder in a noncommittal shrug.  

“Tony,” he corrects. He stuffs down a nagging feeling in his gut that it might be something else, trying to convince himself that Peter is really just tired and totally fine , and suggests a break for a bite to eat.

Peter nods, and though it’s not as enthusiastic as usual, the mention of food has him perking up in a way that makes Tony chuckle. He starts to clean up his work space, and Tony follows suit, though he pauses when he notices that Peter has stopped moving and seems to be staring intently at a spot on the floor. A moment passes, and Tony frowns. He watches Peter blink slowly, zoning out, one hand hovering above his backpack like he’s frozen, then moves slowly across the room toward the boy.     

“Pete?” 

Peter remains still, a faraway look in his eyes. 

“Underoos? The floor really that interesting?” Tony’s breath catches in his chest when Peter doesn’t answer. “Earth to Spider-Boy,” he says, waving a hand back and forth in front of Peter’s face until he blinks and looks up. “You want to tell me where you just went?” 

Peter drags a hand down his face and shrugs, shaking his head as if to clear it.

“I’m kind of tired,” he admits sheepishly. “I had a lot of homework this week, and I’ve been patrolling at night- I mean, not that patrolling is too much or anything! It’s been great, I’ve been helping a lot of people, and I- I had like two essays this week, and a math test, and decathlon team practice, and-”

“Okay, okay. Deep breath,” Tony interrupts. He holds up one hand when Peter almost starts up his explanation again. “How much sleep have you been getting?”

Peter looks down at the floor and gulps. “Maybe like…eight?”

Tony raises an eyebrow. “Eight hours a night? That should be plenty, how are you still so tired?”

“Oh.”

“Oh?” Tony frowns, confused. 

“I meant… eighthoursthisweek .” 

Tony feels his mouth drop open before he can stop it. He closes his eyes and takes a long, deep breath through his nose, holding it until his lungs protest and he has to exhale. When he opens his eyes, Peter is staring up at him with a worried expression.

“Mr. Stark?”

“Tony,” he replies automatically. “ Fuck , kid.” 

Peter hangs his head and wrings his hands together. Tony takes another deep breath and pinches the bridge of his nose. 

“ Peter .” He cringes at his own lecture-voice before continuing with a slightly softer tone. “You can’t fight crime and be a friendly neighborhood spider-man if you’re fighting exhaustion. We don’t need something to happen because you’re not getting enough rest, got it?” 

Peter nods, eyes still on the ground. Tony considers giving him an actual lecture, but  decides to let it go for now, knowing full well he won't be able to handle the hurt look Peter would give him if he does. Shaking his head, Tony sighs, thinking about how soft this kid has made him and wondering when the hell he became such a parent .  

“Come on. Let’s go upstairs. I’m hungry, so I know you have to be starving.” 

At the mention of food, Peter once again perks up, and as they take the elevator up it’s almost as if he hadn’t just been spacing out due to a lack of sleep. The kid is too good at appearing normal. If not for those dark circles under Peter’s eyes and the lack of his usual non stop chatter, and if not for the fact that Peter admitted to hardly ever sleeping, Tony almost wouldn’t have anything to be concerned about.  

It isn’t until they’re upstairs, heading toward the kitchen to grab a bite to eat, that something happens. One minute, Peter is moving with that half awkward-teenager, half agile-superhuman, full bouncing-puppy energy, and the next he’s stumbling right into an end table. There’s a second of tense silence as one of the many decorative vases that Pepper had lovingly picked out wobbles violently back and forth before it tips over completely, and Tony can only watch in horror as it crashes toward the ground. 

Peter’s reaction time is wicked fast, clearly an instinct that came with the spider bite, something that he could do in his sleep, and he catches the vase in a sticky hand before it’s halfway to the floor with ease. But it’s the way he stands there afterward, staring down at the vase in his hands like he’s never seen a vase before, that worries Tony.  

“Nice catch, kid,” Tony says, huffing out a breath of relief. “You…you okay?” 

Peter blinks down at his hands and doesn’t answer. 

“Peter?”  

When finally Peter looks up at him, Tony sees in his eyes that his mind is still somewhere far away.    

“What’s wrong? Are you-” The worry wraps around Tony’s lungs and cuts off his words. 

“Just really tired, I guess,” Peter says softly, voice far away. As if to prove his point, he yawns, the action making his jaw audibly pop. Tony wants to push further, but instead he guides Peter toward the kitchen, one step behind so he can sneakily check Peter’s vitals on his phone. F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s report shows he’s healthy as a horse, per usual, which makes him feel only slightly better. As Peter slides onto a stool at the kitchen island, Tony grabs ingredients from the fridge to throw together a salad to go with the pizza that F.R.I.D.A.Y. orders for them.  

Peter is quiet as he eats, though Tony is happy to see he still has his usual appetite. The exhaustion finally wins after dinner, pulling Peter down when he’s still seated at the kitchen island, feet up on the chair next to him, chin tucked to his chest. One hand is resting in his lap and his other arm dangles at his side. Watching him sleep, Tony feels a fondness that he never would have thought himself capable of a decade ago. 

Fifteen minutes pass and Tony spends them waiting for Peter to wake up, sure that even someone as tired as he had been couldn’t possibly stay asleep in such a position. He watches Peter slowly slide down, knowing he can’t be sleeping very deeply, holding himself upright so awkwardly in his chair, and makes the decision to wake him up and send him to bed.

Tony reaches out to gently squeeze Peter’s shoulder. “Okay, Pete. Time for spider-bedtime.”

Peter’s head jerks up, and he blinks slowly, forehead wrinkling in confusion.

“Let’s get you into a bed, hm? You can’t be comfortable sleeping like this.” 

Peter brings a fist up to rub his eyes and yawns, looking over at Tony through narrowed eyes. He’s still for a moment as he processes Tony’s words, then gives a small nod and slides out of his chair. Tony’s grateful that he doesn’t push back. He stands and walks with Peter to the hallway. 

“Get to bed,” Tony urges softly. “Get some rest.” 

Peter nods again and starts toward his bedroom, rubbing sleepily at his eyes again and looking so young it makes Tony’s heart ache a little. 

“Yeah, thanks, Mr. Sta- Tony. You too.” 

Tony bites back the urge to reply with a wisecrack about sleep being for the weak, because the last thing Peter needs is less sleep. Besides, he might as well get some rest himself, and if taking better care of himself rubs off on Peter, it’ll be worth it.

He just prefers to do his sleeping in a nice, comfortable bed.

Chapter 2: Pretzel (Injury)

Notes:

I'm the luckiest person ever to have SticcyFiccies beta reading for me, truly.
New tags have been added for this chapter. Hope you enjoy!!

Chapter Text

“Thanks, Bruce.” Tony hangs up the phone with a sigh and begins clearing the counter in front of him. He gathers all of the first aid supplies, arranging them in a neat stack on the table, hoping he won’t be needing them again, at least not tonight. Peter’s healing abilities should be kicking in by now anyway and if Bruce is right he’ll be on the mend in no time. For the next day or two, however, Tony is expecting he’ll be playing nurse around the clock to a very battered spider-kid.  

His next stop is the kitchen to grab an ice pack from the freezer. He then heads toward the living room, where Peter had stumbled ten minutes ago. When he rounds the corner, he stops short at the sight before him. Peter is sound asleep, sitting sideways on one end of the couch, legs hanging over the armrest, his upper body twisted so that his face is half-buried in the back rest. His arms are crossed over his chest, and Tony can see both the massive bruise on his left bicep peeking out from under his sleeve and the long gash above his left hip where the hem of his t-shirt is pulled up slightly. 

Tony sighs, wondering not for the first time in his life how Peter could possibly fall asleep in such a position when he’s got a laundry list of injuries that include a broken wrist, probably a sprained knee, and dozens of bruises and lacerations. Except, of course, it’s Peter . Peter, who doesn’t even stir as Tony crosses the room and perches on the couch next to him, sleeping away like he doesn’t have a care in the world.  

Tony reaches out to shake Peter’s shoulder gently and watches his eyelashes flutter. He waits a moment for Peter to open his eyes, but he doesn't, so he keeps a hand on his shoulder and scoots a little closer. 

“Peter?”

Peter’s mouth falls open, breath hitching slightly at the disruption before it begins to even out again. 

“Hey? You fell asleep,” Tony says, and he’s finally met with an irritated grunt. 

“That’s the point,” Peter grumbles sleepily. Tony rolls his eyes at the attitude. 

“You fell asleep twisted up all weird. What if you heal wrong?” Then, softer, he adds, “That can’t be comfortable.” 

“It’s not comfortable being awake,” Peter retorts. He brings a hand up to rub at his face, hissing as the movement pulls at the wound on his side. The discomfort seems to take his breath away for a second, and his mouth opens and closes silently a few times before he’s able to continue, voice strained as he winces. “I heal faster when I’m asleep, anyway.”

Peter drops his hand from his face down to where his other arm is folded across his chest and rests his palm on his forearm, just below his wrist. The skin there is bruised, too, but already looks to be fading slightly. He closes his eyes, but after a minute opens them again to look up at Tony, irritation and confusion lining his expression. 

Tony sighs, realizing that clearly, Peter is not about to move from his spot on the couch. He gives the boy’s shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“At least get horizontal? I can get you a pillow and a blanket?”

There’s a beat of silence. Tony watches Peter visibly gather himself, bracing against the pain before he slowly straightens up. He keeps his injured wrist close to his chest as he swings his legs over the armrest. He squints at Tony, waiting for him to move, and when Tony does he gingerly slides down until he’s flat on his back. 

Tony holds out the ice pack, but Peter’s eyes are already closed again. He places it against Peter’s wrist gently, letting it rest on top of the bruised skin. When it touches him, Peter hisses in pain, face scrunching up at the cold intrusion. After a few seconds, he relaxes again, his breath quickly evening out into a slow, even rhythm.  

“I’ll go grab a pillow and a blanket, maybe a few more painkillers?” Tony reaches down to brush back a strand of hair from Peter’s forehead, his thumb ghosting over the cut above his right eyebrow. “Be right back.”

“Thanks,” Peter mumbles quietly, already half asleep again. 

By the time Tony returns with the pillow and blanket, Peter is out again. In the time Tony was gone he’d switched positions so that he’s lying on his side with his knees pulled to his chest and his arms twisted around himself like a pretzel. Tony tucks the blanket around him and shakes his head fondly. 

He makes a mental note to talk to Bruce about the healing-faster-when-sleeping comment in the morning, then heads to bed himself. He’s not sure he’ll actually fall asleep, not when Peter is still in such bad shape, but he’s sure to set an alarm on his phone for more meds for Peter before he settles in for the night.

Chapter 3: Blanket Fort (Cold Temperature)

Notes:

Oops, sorry it's been so long! I hope you enjoy this chapter! The next one hopefully won't be too far behind.

Thank you to juiceontherocks for being my incredible beta reader and even more incredible friend.

Chapter Text

The first snowflake falls as Peter is almost back to his dorm, landing on his cheek as he darts around other students in an attempt to get inside faster. He’s freezing, every inch of his exposed skin numb from the biting wind. He hadn’t planned on being outside for so long, but an attempted mugging behind the rec center after his last class of the day had kept him out, and even though he’s wearing his Spider-Man suit under his clothes he can’t stop shaking an hour later. 

Peter’s fingers are numb as he unlocks the door to his room. Once inside, he hurries to change into warmer clothes, putting a long sleeve shirt over a t-shirt before pulling on his hoodie, hoping if he bundles up enough he’ll stop shivering and MJ won’t notice anything. He adds a second pair of socks to his feet before slipping his shoes back on, pulling himself together into what he hopes looks like a casual pose as he hears footsteps approach.

Of course, MJ sees straight through him. 

The second she walks in and gets a good look at him, MJ pauses, and Peter’s body tenses against a shiver. She closes the distance between them quickly and Peter can hear his own heart start to beat faster as she kisses his cheek.

“Hey,” she says. “How was class?” 

“Good,” Peter replies, jaw clenching as he struggles to keep his voice even. Just as MJ is about to turn away to drop her bag, he feels his nose start to run and reflexively sniffles against the threatening moisture. 

MJ narrows her eyes. “You’re cold.” 

It’s a statement, not a question. Peter considers outright denying it.

“I’m fine,” he says, shrugging one shoulder. “I’m warmer now.” His lie is punctured with a shiver that he can’t suppress, and MJ frowns. As she sets her stuff down and kicks off her shoes, Peter can see the gears turning in her head.

“Please don’t worry,” he says, sniffling again. 

“Of course I worry about you,” MJ sighs. She crosses the room and grabs a tissue from the box on Peter’s nightstand. Peter takes one gratefully and swipes at his nose. 

“Come with me this weekend?” He asks, just like he does every Friday, and MJ shakes her head with a little laugh.

“I have to work. Not all of us have a billionaire putting us through college,” she jokes, wrapping her arms around Peter’s waist and pulling him in close. “Miss you already.”

Peter leans into her warmth, closing his eyes as he tucks his face against her neck and presses a kiss to her jawline. MJ gasps and leans back.

“Your nose is cold, babe.” She looks down at him, frowning again. “I’m texting Happy to tell him to blast the heater in the car.” 

Peter’s phone buzzes just then, signaling Happy’s arrival, and he pulls on his coat and grabs his backpack before turning back to MJ. 

“Bye, love you!” He kisses her and groans when a shiver runs through his body and breaks them apart. MJ rolls her eyes fondly and kisses the tip of his nose.

“Love you too. Stay warm!” 





The heat in Happy’s car is a welcome relief. In the back seat, Peter adjusts the scarf that MJ had bundled around his neck and wraps his arms around himself. The shivering subsides by the time they arrive at the Tower, but the second he steps out of the car it’s back in full force, as is his runny nose. Snow is falling steadily now and Peter glares up at the sky for a moment before turning to wave goodbye to Happy. 

He jogs inside, entering the elevator and waiting until the doors close to pull the handful of tissues MJ had tucked into his pocket out and drag them under his dripping nose. He rides the elevator up to the common room first to grab a snack. Tony is already down in the lab, and Peter knows he should head down there too, but as soon as he sees the fluffy blanket draped over the back of the couch, he finds himself crossing the room. There’s another blanket folded neatly on the ottoman, and Peter gathers both before sinking onto the couch. 

He’s pulling the second blanket around his shoulders when the elevator dings and Tony steps off.

“Hey, Pete,” Tony greets him. “FRI said you were still up here…and that your temperature is low? What’s going on?” 

Peter shivers and pulls the blanket tighter around himself, nodding. “Not to be dramatic, but I may never be warm again.” 

Tony raises his eyebrows and takes in the multiple layers and blankets.

“Is this that spiders-are-cold-blooded thing? What the hell did you do, play in the snow?”

Peter laughs through a shiver. “I hate snow.” 

Tony sighs and shakes his head in amusement. “I know, bud. Be right back.” 

When Tony returns, he has a stack of blankets tucked under one arm and a mug of hot chocolate in his free hand. He hands the mug to Peter, who grabs it with both hands, holding it close to his chest and reveling in the warmth. The steam from the mug makes his nose run yet again, and he’s only mildly surprised when he looks up to find Tony holding out a box of tissues like he’d anticipated the symptom.

Tony joins Peter on the couch, smiling when Peter immediately leans closer to him. 

“Alright,” Tony chuckles. “Come get in on this body heat.” 

Peter nestles into Tony’s side with a contented sigh, and Tony turns the TV on. By the time they’re halfway through an episode Peter has finished the hot chocolate and added yet another blanket, this one pulled over his head, and has his knees drawn up to his chest. His arms are wrapped around his legs and Tony watches out of the corner of his eye as Peter’s head slowly droops down until his chin is resting on top of his knees. Soon, his breathing evens out as he falls asleep sitting up, curled up in a ball under his mountain of blankets. 

Tony mutes the TV and smiles when he hears Peter start to snore, a faint whistling sound coming from his nose. He looks down at the younger man, all hunched up inside his blanket fort, and rolls his eyes.

“How is that comfortable ?” he whispers to himself, startling when Peter gives a sleepy laugh, eyes still closed. 

“Just is,” Peter murmurs. The blankets move up slightly when he shrugs. “It’s warm.” 

A minute later, he’s asleep again, soft snores floating through the otherwise silent room. Tony sighs and wraps an arm around Peter, pulling him back against his side and settling in for the evening, preparing to wake up to a very stiff back but also a hopefully warm Spider-Kid.

Chapter 4: Bathroom Floor (Illness)

Notes:

Wow it's been a long time since I last updated! Sorry for the delay!

I will add all the new tags for this chapter, TW/CW for mention of vomit in this one.

Chapter Text

In November of Peter’s freshman year of college, a flu bug sweeps through campus and doesn’t seem to leave a single student behind. Peter, MJ and Ned make it through the first two weeks, somehow managing to avoid the illness, which Peter puts down to MJ’s frequent handwashing reminders and the multiple jugs of hand sanitizer Tony had sent him off to college with ( those dorm rooms are germ factories, Pete, trust me ). 

Peter doesn’t think much of it when he wakes up one morning with a pounding headache, chalking it up to the late nights patrolling as the “Friendly College Campus Spider-Man”, as Ned calls him, and he dry swallows a triple dose of Ned’s Ibuprofen with breakfast. He shivers his way through three classes before he realizes something is actually wrong, that he shouldn’t be this cold under three layers and his winter jacket, that his face shouldn’t feel like he’s been out in the sun too long. Once he realizes he feels off, it strikes hard, as if his body was just waiting for him to notice before unleashing absolute misery that flows through his body in waves of fever-heat and unbearable chills. The nausea hits his stomach like a punch, drenching him in sweat and making his vision swim.  

Peter finds himself back in his and Ned’s dorm room without any memory of getting there, and the only thing he can think to do is to take off his shoes and line them up neatly next to the door before he all but collapses onto the floor. MJ finds him an hour later sitting with his back up against the foot of his bed, wearing three coats and no socks. He’s shivering so hard his teeth are chattering. When she presses a couple of pills into his palm, he lifts them to his mouth with a shaky hand, knowing the regular fever reducers won’t do much for him with his metabolism. He watches MJ out of the corner of his eye as she paces the room, talking on the phone, and he picks up Tony’s voice even through the haze that clouds his senses. They don’t want Peter to get Ned and MJ sick, and Peter feels himself nodding until the room spins and he has to close his eyes. 

Tony picks him up that afternoon in his car that draws way too much attention. Peter spends most of the rest of the day at the Tower vomiting. He’s aware, vaguely, of Tony’s presence, always close as he brings Peter water and rubs his back through the worst of it. 

Around midnight, when his stomach is empty and his throat is on fire, Tony guides him to his bedroom and tucks him into bed and presses his hand against the too-hot skin on his forehead. Peter falls asleep and dreams of a raging fire and a faceless figure twisting a knife into his gut.






It’s only 1:00 AM when Tony gets the first alert from F.R.I.D.A.Y. He finds Peter in the bathroom, asleep, sitting up against the sink cabinet with his chin tucked to his chest. 

Tony palms his forehead and frowns at the heat. 103.3 degrees, according to F.R.I.D.A.Y., and no signs yet of going down. He wakes Peter up, then helps him peel off his damp shirt. When Peter stands, his knees buckle, and Tony has to carry him back to his bed. He helps Peter get settled, biting his lip when Peter whimpers and asks for a blanket. He offers a fresh, dry shirt instead before pulling just a thin sheet over his trembling frame, and when Peter asks again for a blanket he almost gives in.  






The second time F.R.I.D.A.Y. wakes Tony up, he doesn’t register the words she’s saying, but her report brings panic bubbling up into his chest that has him gasping for a breath. 

His heart skips a beat when he sees Peter on the floor, curled in on himself, shivering hard. He’s asleep, somehow, and when Tony squats down next to him he moans restlessly, caught in a fever dream, his chapped lips parting in another moan when Tony touches his fingertips to Peter’s sweaty temple. 

Tony sighs wearily and grabs a washcloth from the counter, wetting it and wringing it out into the sink before he squats back down and presses the cloth to the back of Peter’s neck. Peter jerks away with a full-body shiver and a whimper. He blinks up at Tony, confusion twisting his sleepy expression.  

“You’re okay, bud. Just trying to get this fever down some more.” 

Tony moves the washcloth to Peter’s forehead, gently brushing it over the lines on his forehead until they smooth out and rubbing Peter’s arm in what he hopes is a comforting gesture. 

“Th’s nice,” Peter croaks. His voice is hoarse, barely a whisper.

This time, Peter is able to walk on his own back to the bedroom. Now that Peter’s temperature has dropped to 101.9 degrees, Tony lets him add a blanket, which Peter pulls up to his chin with trembling hands. He falls asleep quickly, and Tony waits until his face smooths into a peaceful expression before he leaves the room.  






At 4:43 AM, when F.R.I.D.A.Y. alerts Tony that Peter’s temperature is finally down, Tony groans as his body protests being awake a third time in less than five hours. He stumbles down the hallway to find that once again, Peter has made it to the bathroom but not back to his bed, this time curled around the edge of the bathtub and snoring loudly. His back is twisted in a way that makes Tony cringe. At some point he’d stripped down to just his boxers, confirming that his fever broke, and Tony can’t help but chuckle at the sight.

“Up and at ‘em,” Tony says, keeping his voice down so he doesn’t startle Peter. When he touches his shoulder, he’s relieved to feel that Peter’s skin is much cooler. Peter squints at him and tries to curl tighter around the side of the tub, shaking his head when Tony shakes his shoulder.

“I’ve got a nice, comfortable bed for you. Emphasis on the comfortable part. C’mon.” 

Peter groans, but allows Tony to pull him up and toward the bed. He sits on the edge and Tony helps him drink some water before guiding him down onto his back and pulling the blanket up over him. Peter rolls to his side, pushing his pillow off the bed with a dramatic thump so that he can rest his face directly on the cool sheets, scooting as close to the edge as he can without falling off. 

Tony pulls a chair from across the room to the side of his bed and settles into it, scrubbing one hand tiredly over his face. He looks over at Peter, who’s peeking up at him through heavy eyelids, a silent question in his expression.

“I’m going to stay with you,” Tony whispers. “Can’t have you falling asleep on the bathroom floor again.”

Peter licks his lips and closes his eyes with a small nod of his head. Within seconds, he’s asleep, and Tony smiles, brushing Peter’s hair back off his forehead before he turns off the lamp and settles in for the rest of the night.

Chapter 5: Stressed Out (Psychogenic Fever/Stress Induced Illness)

Notes:

Okay, I couldn’t resist one more spideychelle chapter:) Next one will be irondad, promise! I’m also using this chapter to (barely) fill the Sicktember prompt ‘Psychogenic Fever/Stress Induced Illness’. Sorry it’s a bit short - this chapter has been giving me a hard time for a couple of months now lol.

Chapter Text

“Peter,” MJ begs, watching her boyfriend pace back and forth across the floor of the dorm room. “You’re smart! You’re going to be fine! Please, just, stop stressing for one second!” 

“I patrolled too much,” he says. “I should have been studying for finals.” 

MJ sighs. Peter reaches the wall and stops pacing.

“Maybe being Spider-Man and going to college at the same time wasn’t a great idea,” He groans, leaning forward and pressing his forehead into the wall with a heavy sigh. After a moment, he spins around and slides down the wall until he’s sitting on the floor, landing with a soft thud and another sigh. He pulls one knee up to his chest and pinches the bridge of his nose and MJ frowns, her chest clenching in sympathy. 

She settles back down onto the bed, facing Peter, and they both sit in silence for a few minutes. She’s just about to suggest a snack break when she notices that Peter is rubbing sleepily at his eyes, and a moment later he yawns, his jaw cracking audibly. Instead, she keeps still, pretending to look at her phone while stealing glances at him, and she smiles when she sees his chin drop down to his chest as he nods off. 

Ten minutes later, MJ hears a grunt and looks up from her phone to see Peter blinking awake. He scrubs his sleeve over his eyes, yawning and rolling his shoulders a few times before slumping back against the wall. 

“Can’t believe I fell asleep,” he mumbles. “I need to study.” But he doesn’t move, almost completely still except for a small shiver that runs through him. MJ raises her eyebrows and looks back to her phone, sending one more text before turning it off and tossing it onto the bed next to her. 

Peter yawns again, then sprawls dramatically on the floor, lying on his back and kicking his shoes off before he props his legs up on the wall. MJ grabs her phone and slides off the bed to join him on the floor, resting with her back against the wall, her shoulder pressed up against his leg. She puts her hand on Peter’s chest, rubbing soothing circles as he stares up at the ceiling. After a moment, she slides her hand up to the side of his neck and frowns at the warmth there– Peter’s never that warm, especially not when he’s so tired.  

MJ shifts, leaning down to press a kiss to Peter’s forehead, which is also warm, almost like he has a fever. Her frown deepens, but she quickly shakes her concern and plasters on a more neutral expression as she pulls away, taking in his slightly red eyes and the flush just starting on his cheeks. Leave it to Peter to get sick during finals week. 

Knowing that the stress is doing him no good if he’s actually getting sick– or is maybe the reason he is getting sick– MJ decides that getting him to rest is the best course of action. She lies down on the floor next to him and tucks herself against his side, with her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat and smiling when she feels him wrap his arm around her shoulder. Five minutes pass, and she feels Peter’s body relax, his arm slowly sliding down as he starts to doze off until it hits the ground. 

MJ’s phone buzzes, and she picks it up to see a text from Tony letting her know he’d gotten an alert that Peter’s temperature is elevated, confirming her suspicions. She sends a quick reply, not at all above asking for backup, then pockets her phone and snuggles back against Peter. She’s not entirely sure how he’s able to fall asleep on the hard and frankly pretty gross dorm room floor, but she smiles fondly, already plotting how to get him to move to the bed when he wakes up and listening to his breathing slow and then fade into soft snores.