Work Text:
Tony knows he should get up but he really, really can’t. Everything hurts like hell. He's also having a hard time breathing, his throat is itching and his vision is blurry. He should have known he would catch the flu going around one of his classes this past week. He might have always had a pretty strong immune system but Peter had a horrible stomach bug that kept him up for nearly three days straight. The mountains of schoolwork he had to grade didn’t help, either.
Turning his head, he’s glad he learned to be an early riser. He still has about three hours before he needs to wake Peter up for school. His son’s babysitter, Harley who was one of his students once, won’t be free until two because of his classes. Usually, that’s when the young man would pick Peter up from school ten minutes away from the university.
He mentally goes through his friends’ schedules and realizes Steve has today off. Blindly grabbing his phone from his nightstand, he stares bleary at the screen and scrolls through his contacts. Tapping the blond man’s name, he presses the phone to his ear as he sniffs, his nose clogging. When the call connects, he just starts talking, not letting the other man get a word in. “ Steve .” He whined, elongating the name with a cough at the end. Sadly, it isn’t even for dramatics. “I feel like shit and I need someone to look after Peter.” He sniffs, this time for a little bit of theatrics, burrowing deeper into his comforter.
The line is quiet for a beat until a voice that is decidedly not Steve says, “You know, when you didn’t call me, I assumed you’ve already deleted my number.” The voice is deep, much deeper and much gruffer than Steve’s. Then Tony’s brain registers the man’s words and connects the voice and holy shit . He called Hot Doctor TM . The same Hot Doctor he went on an impromptu date about three months ago now. The one he didn’t get to call because he realized he needed to get full custody of Peter ASAP. The one he had wanted to call so, so, so, so bad but Peter had to come first. Next thing he knew, it has already been weeks and he felt like the opportunity had passed him by. He doesn’t regret prioritizing Peter but he does regret not calling immediately and telling the man he would be indisposed for a few weeks and can you please, please wait for me ? Not in those words, exactly, because he’s not a teenager, but the gist is the same. “Anthony?” comes Hot Doctor’s voice. He must have been silent for too long.
Tony was totally planning on apologizing, maybe beg for another chance and use his pathetic state to his advantage. Unfortunately, what comes out of his mouth is, “I know it looked like I ghosted you but my son needed me and that took time and I thought it was too late so I didn’t call, but I really do need someone to look after him because I’m pretty sure I will pass out if I try to get out of bed.” Tony tries to stop the cough trying to break through but it turns into a full fit instead. He knows his sentence may ran a little but he rarely had a brain-to-mouth filter on a normal day, much less when his sick.
It's silent for a moment, he’s little sniffs the only sound. When he’s about to check if Hot Doctor— Stephen, his name’s Stephen Tony stop objectifying him —hung up, the other man mutters, “If I couldn’t tell how sick you actually are, I would assume you were secretly a serial killer.” Tony blinks, wondering how the other man could have reached the serial killer angle. Before he could speak, the doctor continues, “Fine. Send me your address.” Tony would have snarked and asked how he would know the other man isn’t a serial killer himself when Hot Doctor hangs up. Rude .
He still sends him his address.
*
Tony has been playing on his phone for maybe twenty minutes or longer when his phone starts to ring, Hot Doc— Stephen ’s name flashing on the screen. When he accepts the call, Stephen simply says, “I’m at your door.” before hanging up. Asshole . Tony’s pretty sure he’s in love.
Groggily, and with great reluctance, he gets out of bed but keeps the comforter wrapped around himself. He doesn’t bother wearing shorts over his boxers and leaves his dress shirt mostly open to where he left it the night before. The doctor’s aware he’s sick and he’d really rather not leave his impromptu babysitter hanging.
He takes a peek in Peter’s room, checking if his son is still asleep. When he’s sure the boy isn’t waking up anytime soon, he proceeds through his penthouse to let his guest in. When Tony opens the door, Stephen is looking to the side with a light frown on his face. His hair is a little messy, a little curly, even. It's a far cry from his perfectly styled hair during that date. He's still gorgeous and Tony still wants to climb him like a tree. Unfortunately, that’s when his body decides to sneeze. Instinctively, he grabs a collar from his shirt to keep the sneeze contained.
(People who sneeze on their hands are disgusting as they spread germs around with their grabby paws. Those who sneeze on their elbows are only mildly better until someone grabs their arm.)
Tony sniffs, quite pathetically if you ask him. His eyes are a little watery, blurring his vision a little so he wipes his eyes, removing the tears. When he looks back up at the other man, he’s pretty sure Stephen’s looking at him with fondness and no one can tell him otherwise.
He lets the doctor in with a wave of his hand as he walks to the couch and flops down, his aching body needing some rest. When he hears some rustling, he realizes the other man has a few plastic bags with him in his hands, setting two on the coffee table. Because the penthouse is practically an open plan, Stephen easily finds the kitchen and drops the remaining bags on the bar top table. Without a word, he rummages through the kitchen and Tony lets him be. He did ask for the doctor’s help. So he decides to simply go back to sleep.
*
He doesn’t know for how long he slept but the light shaking woke him up. Tony blinks slowly then looks at his guest, his brain still trying to boot. When he gains better awareness, he sees Stephen hovering beside him. He hums, letting the doctor know he’s awake.
“You might want to be the one to wake Peter. He doesn’t know me and I don’t want to scare him.” The other man says when he saw he had enough of Tony’s attention. The doctor stands back up and Tony watches him walk towards the kitchen, pulling something out of the oven. A few moments pass as he tries to get his bearings, getting out of the couch with a groan. He takes one of the surgical masks from a box on the coffee table, not wanting to pass the flu to his son by accident. Taking a glance at the clock, he realizes it’s just about time he has to wake Peter up. He wonders if he mentioned it to Stephen at some point or if it’s a coincidence.
Tony quietly opens the door to his Peter’s room, sniffing as he does so. He gently sits on the bed, combing through the boy’s hair as he gets a little more comfortable. “Hey, baby. It's time to wake up.” He says gently, watching as his son’s brows furrow, groaning his displeasure. Sometimes the kid’s an early riser, sometimes he’s not. He keeps combing his boy’s hair, a gentle reminder to get out of bed. Finally, Peter slowly opens his eyes, staring blearily at him. He can’t help the smile on his and he’s sure it’s obvious in his eyes. He's sure he’ll never get used to how much love he feels for his son. “Come on, kiddo, it’s time for school.”
“M’kay, daddy.” Peter mumbles, slowly getting out of bed, rubbing his eyes. The boy doesn’t even ask about the mask, having used one a few times before, as he gets out of bed. His son goes to his personal bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his face. Tony stands there, watching as Peter goes through a routine he’s made since Tony gained full custody of him.
“I called someone to help today, Pete.” Tony says just as the little boy’s drying his face. He shuts his eyes tight, willing the sudden dizziness to go away. He just has to help Peter go through his routine and take him to the kitchen so he can get back to resting.
“Uncle Steve?” Peter asks, grabbing the comforter still around Tony as they walk side by side.
He shakes his head at the question. “He’s a new friend, sweetheart.” When they reach the open area, he can see Stephen’s back is to them. The doctor is bobbing his head lightly, his hips swaying as if his tapping his heels. He finds that quite adorable.
Stephen must have heard them because he turns around and smiles; all soft and sweet and gentle. By god, this man is impossible. “Hello. You must be Peter.” He then says with a soft voice, smiling at the little boy. Tony’s a little tempted to pinch himself because he really doesn’t remember Stephen being soft in any way or form. He remembers a cocky man with more than enough intellect to back it up. He remembers a man who can outwit him easily. He remembers Stephen being sort of nice, yes, but he doesn’t remember him being soft . Although it may be because one day date isn’t really enough to fully know someone. Before all the drama with his ex-wife, he has wanted to know more of the doctor.
Peter glances up at his father, wary but curious nonetheless. Tony simply smiles and gently pushes him towards the other man. “Hello.” The little boy mumbles, smiling shyly up at their guest. Tony wants to coo at his little boy and from where he’s standing, he’s pretty sure the doctor feels the same.
Stephen sits on his haunches, now a little more at Peter’s eyesight. Still smiling, he says, “I’m Doctor Stephen Strange, I’m one of your dad’s friends.” and holds a hand out to shake. Tony appreciates how the other man is not treating his little boy like a dumb kid.
Peter has a determined look on his face as he takes the outstretched hand to shake. The doctor’s eyebrows twitch and Tony can tell the firmness of the little boy’s handshake is a surprise. “And I’m daddy’s Peter.” That’s the moment Tony can tell Stephen is hooked on the boy’s charm.
*
After the initial introduction, Stephen lets Tony go back to bed to rest. He knows Peter won’t give the other man much trouble. He’s always been a good boy, Sunset's bad parenting aside. Peter's going through therapy and he’s been assured his son’s been coping well. Still, he wishes he’s known what was happening with his ex-wife then maybe he could’ve easily won the original custody battle. Maybe Peter wouldn’t have had to go through that trauma. Or maybe he still would have lost, especially with how many friends her family had within the justice system. He's just lucky Peter’s pediatrician is a friend from MIT Sunset never really knew. Add the fact that she’s insanely terrifying. He'll forever be grateful for Natasha helping him get his boy away from his ex.
As he listens to the quiet movements outside his door, he lets himself drift back to sleep.
*
When Tony wakes again, he’s feeling a little better. The medicine has clearly helped, along with the soup Stephen fed him earlier. His throat still feels itchy and he still has a slight cold but he doesn’t feel like he’s gone through hell. He sits up slowly, testing how achy he still feels. It's a lot more bearable now than it was earlier. He doesn’t feel like he’d want to die anytime soon, anymore.
He gets up once more, comforter still around him, as he glances at his alarm clock. From the looks of it, he’s been sleeping for almost four hours now. He's pretty sure it’s time for his next dose of medicine and so he walks to his personal bathroom first, taking the flu medicine he always keeps there.
When Tony gets out of his room, the sight of Stephen reading one of his favorite books greets him. The other man is sitting on his couch in an easy pose (thanks, Bruce ) , brows furrowed in an adorable way. Tony's still muddled brain whispers that this is a sight he’d like to see regularly. He tries to shut that part of his brain down with little to no success.
He must have made some noise because Stephen suddenly lifts his head from what he’s been reading. The other man places something in between the pages between closing the book, letting it rest on his lap as looks Tony over. “How are you feeling now?” the doctor asks, his gaze clinically roving over Tony’s body.
“A little better.” Tony says, his voice breaking at the very end. He's breathing easier but his body’s still aching. His head isn’t throbbing as badly, though, and his throat isn’t as itchy. It'll probably take another day or two for him to recover.
Stephen hums, stares him down for a few beats then gets back to reading. “There’s food in the microwave if you think you can handle it.” He says, almost absently, as Tony moves towards the kitchen to get some water. As he takes sips from his glass, he opens the microwave to see a bowl of something that looks like a soup. Taking off the cling film cover, he’s hit by the scent of a cream of mushroom soup, if he has to guess. It definitely smells great and he’s pretty sure it’s not from a can.
He gingerly takes the bowl and puts it down on the bar top table, along with his water glass. Tightening the comforter around him, he takes a spoon from the cabinet, actually excited to be eating. Taking his seat, he tries out a spoonful first. It's still warm and it feels soothing as he feels it go down. The warmth gives him tingles and so he keeps eating until there isn’t any soup left. He knows he’s pouting but he really, really wants more.
Tony sits there for a while, wondering if he should demand more. Then he comes to the conclusion that he practically has no dignity left after calling a date never called to help with his son. Demanding more food isn’t going to make things any worse. He's already crashing downhill, why not enjoy descent.
Mind made up, he looks up to ask Stephen for more soup to see the other man looking at him already. He can tell the doctor has a soft smile on his face, how could he not? His eyes are soft as they look at him and he’s pretty sure the heat on his face isn’t because of the flu. Stephen even has the audacity to widen his smile, his eyes crinkling beautifully.
Quick, say something suave , Tony thinks.
“Peter was being abused by his mom.” So of course, that’s what he says. That is the furthest thing from suave. It is so far from suave it can be called lame if the words aren’t so serious. This is one of those moments where he wonders where his playboy reputation has come from. Clearly, he cannot be trusted to say something smooth.
Stephen blinks, obviously surprised at the weird segue. But Tony knows this is something he should address, especially since last time they spoke, Peter’s mom has full custody of him.
“After our impromptu date, I found out Peter was being abused by my ex.” He starts, and he can feel the mood shift from playful to something more serious. He looks down, avoiding the other man’s eyes. “After the divorce, I tried to get custody of Peter. But Sunset has a lot of relatives in politics, so I knew all along I couldn’t win no matter how hard I tried.” He fiddles with the edge of his comforter, composing the words he wants to say. “I knew she can be cold and negligent but she’s always hired a nanny to care for Peter. My dad was the same, so I thought it was normal. I thought I’ll just fill all the space she left myself, like what my mom did.” He clenches his fist on the comforter, angry on his son’s behalf. “At the time, I thought he was being bullied at school because he’s the youngest. He's quiet, you know? Sometimes he’s a little shifty. Then I found out most of the kids actually liked him.” He takes a shaky breath, not wanting to go into details. “It was mostly verbal at the beginning. When I found out, I tried to get custody of him again. When I couldn’t, I confronted her.” Just thinking about their conversation makes his blood boil. He still wishes he could have put her behind bars. Unfortunately, she’s from a political family, which means she does have more power than Tony does, even if he comes from old money. Unfortunately, the Carbonell name doesn’t even mean much in the US.
Tony swallows thickly, folding his arms on the table to lean forward, hunching in slightly. “She told me no one would believe her to be abusive, that people would be more inclined to put the blame on me. She told me she’d destroy me so that I can never see Peter again. So, I stopped and hoped my son will forgive me for being a bad father when he’s older.”
Neither of them speaks for a moment. Tony feels tense, ready to defend himself for not fighting harder for Peter. He's overheard it enough from some of his coworkers, whispering about how he let his son be abused. He's seen the way Peter’s teachers look at him, like they blame him for the boy being meek and afraid. He's experienced being sneered at by other parents when they find out he didn’t manage to go against his ex-wife. It doesn’t matter how much his friends assure him he did the best he could, he still feels like he let Peter down.
“You’re not a bad father.” Stephen’s voice, soft as it is, breaks Tony out of his musings. When he looks back up, the other man has an intensity in his gaze that makes him want to shiver. “I know what a bad father looks like and I know you’re not one.” Tony looks away, uncertain on how to deal with that intensity. “When you were asleep, Peter can’t help but talk about you.” There’s a fondness in his voice that earns him more points from Tony. “You’re his idol. Hell, you’re practically the sun to him. He knows you love him more than anything and it’s clear how proud he is to be your son.
“Sometimes, you have to lose the battle to win the war. In your case, backing off was best for you and Peter. You were his solace from his mother and that probably helped more than you think it did.”
Tony’s speechless for a moment. Then, he clears his throat, throwing a quick glance at the doctor before looking away. “Thanks.” He says thickly, not sure how to handle a near stranger say what all of his friends have been trying to say. Moreover, it sounds so factual that he’s more inclined to believe Stephen.
The doctor gets back to reading as Tony clears the table. He washes his spoon and bowl, leaving it to dry on the rack attached to the faucet. He puts his glass by the water dispenser, where he and Peter usually put their glasses because they can both be pretty lazy with washing dishes. Realizing he should probably get more rest, he makes a move to get back to his room. Just as he reaches the hallway that would lead to the bedrooms, he pauses, a thought suddenly coming to mind. As he reaches a decision, he does an about-turn and marches towards the couch where Stephen is reading. Without pause, he flops down beside the other man and maneuvers himself so he can rest his head on the doctor’s lap. Thankfully, it simply brings the man amusement.
Tony shifts some more until he has his head nearly buried into Stephen’s stomach. “Comfy?” The other man says dryly, some fondness leaking into his tone. Even without looking, he can tell there’s a smile on Stephen’s face. He knows the other man isn’t really expecting a response from him so simply hums in response. He hears a scoff from above before feeling the doctor move, probably to get back to reading.
They're silent for a while—Stephen focused on the book and Tony trying to get some more rest. Then. “I really would have called, you know.” Tony mumbles. He’s aware of Stephen taking a pause, waiting him out, so he continues. “It’s just a lot of bad happening at once and I was scared of calling.”
From above, he hears the other man hum. “Then I guess we’ll just have to try again, huh?”
Tony wonders if he’s still smiling when he falls asleep.