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It was just after two in the morning, when Tony finally removed himself from the lab and dropped down on the couch in the penthouse living room. Of course, he knew the more reasonable thing to do would be to head into the master bedroom and get some sleep. But for whatever reason, he didn’t feel inclined to do so. Probably due the copious amounts of coffee he’s been drinking during his engineering binge. He’d just flipped the television on and kicked his feet up onto the coffee table when he heard footsteps padding towards him. He turned around to find Peter standing just outside of the hallway with sleep mussed hair and soft rumpled pajamas.
“Mr. Stark?” Peter croaked, looking more asleep than awake.
“What are you doing up, Kid?” Tony questioned. The kid had claimed exhaustion hours prior and put himself to bed. He hoped he’d not inadvertently woken him by flipping through the channels.
“I-” Peter began, pausing to yawn so widely his eyes visibly watered. “I don’t feel good.”
“You don’t feel good?” Tony stupidly repeated. Because the kid had seemed fine earlier in the evening. He’d eaten dinner and tinkered in the lab while happily participating in their usual banter. Though he supposed that didn’t particularly mean anything. The kid could have gone to bed feeling absolutely fine only to wake up feeling off. “Don’t feel good, how? What’s wrong, hmm?”
Peter shrugged his shoulders, vaguely gesturing towards his head and stomach. Unsure of how to decipher such an ambiguous answer, Tony's eyebrows furrowed as he beckoned the kid forward.
“Come here, Kiddo,” he said softly. Peter shuffled towards him, eyes half-lidded. But rather than standing in front of him, he dropped down onto the couch and fell instantly into his side. Tony reached around, best he could to place his hand on Peter's forehead. And even though the kid’s body was already overly warm against him, he was surprised by the amount of heat he found there. “You’re warm,” he stated.
“Don’t feel warm,” Peter mumbled, then shivered violently.
“You want me to get you some water and fever reducers?” Tony asked, assuming that was what the kid had come out of his room for.
Peter shook his head and momentarily pressed his lips together. “Might throw up.”
Tony looked down at Peter’s face. It was both pale and flushed at the same time. He looked utterly miserable. “Did you want me to- call May for you?” he offered, half expecting the kid to request to go home. But again, Peter shook his head.
“She’s working,” he said. Then he scooted down further so that his head lay on Tony’s lap.
At that point, Tony was out of ideas. He’d offered the only two things he knew to offer. Not knowing what else to say, he tilted his head and asked, “Well, what do you need from me, Buddy?”
Peter swayed his head, not really offering an answer as he buried his face more deeply into Tony’s thigh. He pulled his legs up onto the couch next, whining as he huddled himself into a ball.
“Why did you come find me, then?” Tony asked, his brow creased with mild confusion..
Peter shrugged. “Just wanted you,” he said, his words muffled from where he’d not bothered to turn his head.
Tony's chest filled with warmth as he watched Peter melt further into the couch. He went to adjust his own position, in hopes of getting a bit more comfortable himself, only to realize that Peter had taken hold of his shirt and wasn’t letting go. “Well, you’ve definitely got me, Bud,” he chuckled, while half-heartedly attempting to shake his arm free from the kid’s stickiness.
Peter sighed contentedly as he rubbed his cheek against the soft material of Tony’s worn-thin jeans. Tony gently ran his hand up and down the kid’s back as a result.
After a few minutes of quietly sitting together, Tony gave Peter’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Should we move this cuddle-fest into your room? Might be more comfortable than this couch,” he suggested.
Peter shook his head, murmuring “Don’t wanna move.”
Tony smiled softly and patted the kid on the back. “Okay, Baby. You don’t have to move.” He chuckled lightly when the only response he received was a contented hum.
With Peter determined to remain by his side on the couch, Tony turned the volume down on the television and began to extend his fingers through Peter’s deep brown curls. When he was sure the kid was asleep he managed to awkwardly gather him into his arms and not without effort, carry him down the hallway. It was quite the task. Peter was nearly as tall as he was, making it difficult to maneuver him through the bedroom doorway without knocking any of his lanky teenage limbs into the frame. He breathed a sigh of relief when he was finally able to lean over the bed and place Peter onto it without waking him. When he moved to stand up and pull away, he realized that his sleeve was still steadfastly stuck in Peter’s grasp. As he tried to tug himself free, he was met with two big brown feverish eyes staring up at him.
At that moment, Tony resigned himself to his fate. Although it wasn’t with any amount of begrudging. He could think of far worse things than spending the evening attached to a sick and clingy Peter Parker. “Scoot over, Bud,” he whispered.
After no less than three extended blinks, Peter asked, “You’ll stay?”
Without hesitation, Tony nodded. “Of course I’ll stay,” he said, wondering when he’d grown so attached to the kid. My kid , he thought to himself as he watched Peter languidly scoot towards the middle of the bed.
Once Peter had stilled, Tony lay down beside him. Seconds later he felt an overly warm face burrowing into his shoulder, while the hand not connected to his sleeve spread across his abdomen. Once settled, he resumed his duty of untangling the tiny knots in Peter’s hair. Within minutes he could hear soft snoring and feel hot puffs of breath penetrating his sleeve. He glanced to the side, finding the kid’s eyes closed and his face completely lax.
“You’re making me soft, you little shit,” he whispered mostly to himself. Then he leaned in to kiss Peter’s temple. As his lips pressed against the heated skin, he made a metal note to get the fever reducers the moment he was released from the kid’s warm embrace. “But I wouldn't change it for the world.”
Peter hummed, perhaps more awake than Tony had realized and whispered, “Love you too, Dad.”