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Tony woke up early, as a result of going to bed early the night before. And the night before that, and the night before that. Because for the last several days, he’d been fighting off the nasty flu that had been going around the office. He blamed Pepper, really. If she hadn’t forced him into that last meeting, he wouldn’t have ended up being one of the many casualties. Why people were so insistent on sharing their germs, especially with him, was a mystery. He sucked in a deep breath through his mostly unclogged nose and ran a hand down his face. It wasn’t like Stark Industries had a restrictive absence policy. Or he didn’t think they did. Surely they encouraged their employees to keep their infectious diseases to themselves, right? He’d have to look into it. But first- he needed some coffee.
It took a few tries to actually bring himself to get out of bed. Once he’d finally made it he carried himself into the ensuite to get ready for the day. He looked in the mirror and ran a hand over his chin. He needed to shave. Hell, he probably needed to shower as well. Suddenly his stomach rumbled, something it hadn’t done in days. It didn’t take long for him to prioritize coffee and frozen waffles over some basic hygiene. He combed his fingers through his messy hair and threw a robe over his pajamas before shuffling into the kitchen.
As he rounded the corner, Pepper looked up from her tablet. “You’re up.”
Tony grunted in acknowledgment. He yanked the freezer open and grabbed two waffles. He dropped them into the toaster while simultaneously starting a pot of coffee. He could see Pepper looking at him from across the breakfast bar. “What?”
“Nothing.” Pepper smiled and went back to skimming whatever she had on her tablet. Probably a really boring spreadsheet, contract, or statistical graph. “How are you feeling?”
For a moment, Tony watched the coffee drip into the carafe and took stock of his body. He felt a little gross from sweating. His joints were sore but not painful, and he wasn’t completely and utterly exhausted. He could mostly breathe through his nose and the constant sneezing and coughing had died down to a periodic tickle in his throat. Overall, he wasn’t doing too bad . In fact, some food, caffeine, and a hot shower would probably shake off the majority of his lingering complaints. He shrugged his shoulders and carefully placed his hot waffles onto a plate. “I’m feeling mostly better. This plague you fed to me, is kicking my ass.”
Pepper hummed. She set her tablet down and folded her arms on the counter. “It’s Friday.”
“I know what day it is,” Tony scoffed. “I’m not that far gone.”
“Oh.” Pepper grinned slyly. Tony chose that moment to turn his back to her and get a few things out of the refrigerator. “So, you’ve already messaged Peter to reschedule your afternoon play date?”
“No one calls it a play date. And who says I need to reschedule?” he asked, digging around in the various drawers. He shivered slightly as he leaned further into the fridge to reach a spray can from the back. “I just said I’m feeling better.”
Pepper huffed. “You also said this flu was kicking your ass- in present tense.”
“Eh.” Tony leaned heavily against the cabinets as he poured his coffee and topped his waffles. “Semantics.”
“Right.” Pepper smirked. However, her amused expression didn’t last. Within seconds it shifted into a look of concern. “Are you sure you feel up to spending that much time- awake?”
“Ha. Ha. Yes. I’m sure.” He closed his eyes and he took a long sip from his mug. He sighed contentedly and carried it, along with his plate over to the breakfast bar. “I’ve slept more in the last five days than I did in my entire college career.” He cut into his waffles and brought the fork up to his mouth. “Plus, I’m actually hungry. So that has to be a good sign.”
Pepper raised her brows in a dubious manner. “No fever? You wouldn’t want to pass this on to Peter.”
Once he’d had mostly cleared his mouth of the giant bite of breakfast, Tony rolled his eyes. “Jeez. I don’t have a fever, Mom. I sweated it out last night.” He dabbed the corners of his mouth with a napkin and took another swig of coffee. “And thanks to his handy-dandy spidery mutations, the kid can’t even get sick. We’ll both be fine.”
Nothing else was said as Tony devoured his waffles, complete with blueberries and whipped cream, and downed a second mug of coffee. He carried his dishes to the sink and went straight back into his room to take a nice long shower.
Nearly an hour later, Tony, clean and freshly shaved, opened the ensuite door. A thick cloud of steam billowed into the bedroom as he stepped out. He’d spent an absurd amount of time slumped against the shower wall while hot water pelted against his back and shoulders. It hadn’t helped as much as he’d hoped. His muscles were still a little sore and his nose had gone from slightly stuffy to slightly runny instead. He’d had to pause twice mid-shave to wipe his itchy nose. But he could breathe clearly. That was nice.
Gradually, he crossed the room and gathered some clothes from his dresser. He immediately pulled a worn-out band-t-shirt over his head. There was some debate after. But ultimately he decided to replace the towel around his waist with boxers and a pair of soft sweatpants rather than jeans. Tony blew out a breath as he took a pair of socks out of his drawer and he lowered himself onto the edge of the bed. Getting dressed had taken more out of him than he wanted to admit. He considered laying back down, just for a little while. Then it occurred that he would have to change the sheets before that could happen. He groaned and ran a hand down his face. It was fine. He’d just told Pepper he was doing better, and he didn’t want to undermine that by immediately crawling back into bed. Unless- “Hey, FRIDAY? Is Pepper still in the kitchen?”
“Ms. Potts left the penthouse approximately twenty two minutes ago. She has since joined a conference call from her computer in her main office. Would you like for me to relay a message?”
“Nope. I’m good.” Tony tiredly grinned. Logically, he knew Pepper wouldn’t care if he wanted to lay back down. Hell, she probably wouldn’t say a word about it. But he really wanted to keep up the pretense that he was doing a-okay. Fake it until you make it and whatnot. Bottom line, he didn’t want to get caught taking a nap, less than an hour after proclaiming he was well enough to function without one. “Out of curiosity, how long is that conference call meant to last?”
“A two-hour block has been set aside to accommodate a virtual meeting with -”
“Yep. That’s perfect,” he interjected. Two hours would do. “Thanks FRI.”
Swiftly, Tony stripped the bed and went to find a stack of fresh sheets. It took him a few minutes to locate them, but he didn’t have to ask FRIDAY for assistance. He accepted that as a win and moved to start tucking the deep gray material around the mattress. Oddly he was able to change them out relatively quickly and fairly neatly despite his lack of practice. It was exhausting though. His chest heaved with effort as he finally pulled the last blanket back into place and unceremoniously flopped onto the bed.
In less than two minutes, he was soundly asleep.
When Tony awoke, it was to a long strip of light escaping the curtains and falling directly across his face. He cracked one eye open and immediately closed it. “God,” he groggily croaked as he clumsily rolled to his back. He wiped his hands over his face and blinked at the ceiling. “FRIDAY? What time is it?”
“It’s twelfth forty-two in the afternoon, boss.”
Tony's eyes widened. “Three and a half hours? I’ve been asleep for three and a half hours?” He squeezed his eyes closed and rubbed his temples. “How is that even possible?” It felt like he’d done nothing but sleep for the last week. He really needed to get the whole fatigue thing under control.
Slowly, Tony stretched out his limbs and reached for the small bottle of saline on his bedside table. He sat up, inhaled the hydrating mist, and threw his legs over the edge of the side. It took more effort than he would ever admit to actually stand up. But he eventually made his way into the kitchen to grab a bottle of orange juice to carry down to the lab. He hadn't been down there in days. He was certain he had plenty to catch up on.
The bots were happy to see him. DUM-E especially. Tony sighed as the robot chirped, driving circles around him as he attempted to traverse the lab. At one point DUM-E’s claw bumped his arm. He paused to glare. “I swear, if you knock the drink out of my hand, you’re cleaning it up. Then I’m putting you in the corner.” The bot produced a sad trill that made Tony roll his eyes. “Yes, with the dunce cap. So, you better watch it! Pete’s not here to save you.”
As he finally sat down in his favorite rolling chair, FRIDAY helpfully informed him of all the Stark Industries’ deadlines that were approaching. Without hesitation, he chose to ignore them and placed a malfunctioning gauntlet onto his workbench. He turned it over in his hands until he found the source of the problem. There was a small crack along the palm. He leaned back in his chair, hands tucked behind his head and smiled. An easy fix to get him back into the swing of things was exactly what he needed.
It took a little while, but eventually Tony found his groove. His playlist was blasting through the speakers and a plethora of small projects had him moving at a good pace. He got into the workflow. His hands and mind kept busy as he hummed along to the music. He’d just finished calibrating a sluggish thruster when the room abruptly fell quiet. “Hey!” He dropped his tools and glared at the ceiling. “What have I told you about messing with my tunes, FRIDAY?”
“Mr. Parker has arrived,” FRIDAY smoothly announced. “I turned down the music in accordance with the Little Ears Protocol.”
Tony blinked. He’d clearly lost track of time. He looked towards the door. Sure enough, Peter was skipping through it, his school bag bouncing against his back. “Hey, Bud! Hurry up and get over here!” He grinned widely as he pushed his own projects aside to make room for the kid’s. “And FRIDAY switch to the kid’s playlist and preferences.”
The kid smiled as he bound into the break room to grab a quick snack; if you could call a family-sized bag of potato chips a snack. Tony rolled his eyes but didn’t comment. Instead, he waited for Peter to pull a chair up beside him and silently held out his hand. Peter happily dropped a handful of chips into his palm.
For a while, they worked together on the spider-suit. Tony spent at least half of the time complaining about germs, seasonable afflictions and Pepper being out to get him. The kid had the audacity to laugh. He playfully narrowed his eyes in return.
At some point, amidst the banter and upgrades, Tony started to feel a little worse for wear. His nose was still clear but his previously soothed joints had started to ache again. He tipped his head from side to side and rolled his shoulders, hoping to stretch out the kinks. As he did so, a yawn built at the back of his throat. He pressed his lips together to stifle it. After that, the chills set in. Goosebumps climbed up his arms and a shiver ran down his spine.
He tended to keep the lab cool. It was better for working. He also tended to keep a hoodie or two lying around. Mainly the gray MIT hoodie he’d bought during his first year of college. It was thick, warm, and soft from so many years of wear. Although he didn’t see it or any others in his close proximity. He sighed, feeling resigned as he stood up on shaky legs. It took him a little while to spot the elusive hoodie. When he did, it wasn’t strewn across a chair or tossed onto a table. It was on Peter’s back. Not that Peter wearing his MIT hoodie was an unusual sight. The kid had pretty much taken that one over. Sometimes he left with it still on. In fact, at that point, it probably made more sense to call it the kid’s hoodie rather than his own. With a huff, he poked around looking for another option. But there didn’t seem to be any.
Tony sighed as he sat down in his previously abandoned chair. He could go up to the penthouse to get another one. Although, he didn’t particularly feel like making the trek. Instead, he asked FRIDAY to adjust the temperature, making it a little warmer than he would normally keep it. But even after some time, he was still freezing and miserable.
He wanted that hoodie.
He used his foot to propel his rolling chair towards Peter. “Hey, Bud.” He smiled and plucked the back of the kid’s- well technically his clothes. “Think I could borrow my own hoodie for today?”
Peter turned around, his face scrunched up with confusion. “What? Why?”
“Because I turned up the air and I’m still freezing to death!” Tony frowned and vigorously ran his hands up and down his arms.“I have goosebumps! My lips are turning blue!” He sighed theatrically and threw his head back. “For all we know I could be dying!”
“You’re not dying.” Peter grinned widely. “You’re dramatic.”
Tony furrowed his brow and allowed his mouth to fall open in mock surprise. “I’m not dramatic, I’m cold!”
“You’re rich, Mr. Stark.” Peter laughed and gestured wildly towards the ceiling. “You probably have like- a million hoodies upstairs. Why can’t you go get one of those?”
It was obvious Peter was playing. It made sense. An awful lot of their time together was spent bantering. It was easy to smile and play along. Even while a part of him wished the kid would just give in and hand him the shirt. He scoffed and raised one hand. “Why would I go to all the trouble to get another one, when I already have one right here?”
“Yeah. But I’m already wearing it!” Peter grinned. He wrapped the ends of the sleeves around his fists and tucked them under his arms. “You can’t take it if I’m already wearing it!”
“It’s my hoodie!” Tony laughed as he retorted.
Peter’s arms were still folded and the look of amusement had yet to leave his face. “You have more!”
“Come one, Kid. I’ve been sick for over a week.” Tony sighed tiredly but kept smiling. “Shouldn’t you be feeling sorry for me?” The words came out sounding whinier than he meant for them to. The undignified tone seemed to send the kid into another peal of laughter.
“Go get your own hoodie, Mr. Billions.”
“That is my own hoodie!” Tony shot back. He leaned forward to jab a finger into the middle of Peter’s chest. “My lab, my rules, my hoodie! This is non-negotiable!” When the kid made no move to remove the outer layer, he opened and closed his hand in a grabby motion. “Gimme!”
“Wow, Mr. Stark,” Peter said, clearly trying but ultimately failing to keep his tone flat. “And to think I shared my chips with you.”
Despite the ache in his bones and the headache brewing behind his eyes, Tony laughed aloud. “They were my chips, kid! You got them out of my cabinet!”
The back and forth continued as Peter remained playfully stubborn. At one point, he considered wrestling the kid out of the hoodie. But he lacked the energy to even pretend he could win that match. The banter already had him running out of steam. His shoulders sagged as he ran a hand down his face. He knew he should put an end to lab-time, altogether. They could both go upstairs and lounge on the couch. But they’d already taken apart the kid’s web shooters. There wasn't going to be any leaving until they were put back together.
He sighed again and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Do you think you could run up to the penthouse and get me something with sleeves? If you go into my bedroom, there’s a dresser right there as you walk in. Bottom left drawer should have a bunch of hoodies and sweatshirts folded up in it.” He glanced up. Peter’s face had drawn into an unreadable expression. He thought maybe it was unease. He supposed that made sense. The kid had never set foot in the master bedroom before. He’d never had a reason to. And perhaps it felt a little too personal. He was inclined to offer an alternative. “If you’re uncomfortable about going into my bedroom, you can try the hall closet. I might have a jacket in there.”
The corners of Peter’s mouth turned into a deep remorseful frown. “I was just messing around.” He hadn’t finished talking before starting to tug the hoodie over his head. His last words were muffled by the fabric over his mouth. “You can have this one.”
Tony shook his head and placed a gentle hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Nah. It’s fine, Bud. I know you get cold too. Just- go grab me something else, okay?”
With the hoodie already off and wadded up in his lap, Peter handed it over. “How about I grab myself something else?” He smiled, then took off, full speed across the room. He slowed down just a touch as he reached the door, grinned over his shoulder and shouted, “I’ll be right back!”
Once Peter was out of sight, Tony pulled the hoodie on and- jeez it was toasty. Not just because of its quality. It was still infused with the kid’s body heat. He shuddered as the unexpected amount of warmth engulfed him and dropped his head onto the desk. There was no doubt the fever was back. He could feel it all the way down to his bones. Maybe he really wasn’t doing as ‘better’ as he’d thought he was.
What felt like a few seconds later, Peter’s footfalls could be heard echoing towards him. He didn’t feel the need to lift his aching head just yet. A hand fell cautiously against his back.
“Mr. Stark?” Peter asked. “Are you awake?”
“Yep,” Tony replied. He slowly sat back up, closing his eyes for a few seconds when it made his head swim.
“Cool. Mrs. Potts said to give this to you.”
Tony finally opened his eyes. The kid was standing beside him, wearing an old Star Wars sweatshirt he didn’t remember owning. A beat passed and it clicked. It wasn’t his shirt. It was Rhodey’s. He’d borrowed it years ago and never returned it. His eyes passed over the striped sleeves and landed on the bottle of water in Peter’s hand. In his other hand was a sachet of cold and flu medication. He easily accepted them both. “Thanks, kid.” He tore the packet open and dropped the tablets into his mouth. He could taste the bitterness on the back of his tongue as he cracked the water bottle open. It wasn’t until he’d swallowed at least half of the cool liquid that he addressed Peter’s choice in added clothing. “I see you found something to wear.”
Peter hummed in the positive and sheepishly looked down at the faded screen print spaceship. “I didn’t dig around or anything. I just took what was on top.”
That was a lie, and they both knew it. Peter blushed as Tony bobbed his head and grinned. “Sure you did, Buddy.”
Peter looked up and smiled too, no longer looking embarrassed. “It’s comfy.” He ran his hands over the thick sleeves and shrugged his shoulders.
Tony leaned back in his seat and smiled fondly. He wondered how Rhodey would about his sweatshirt being borrowed twice over. He’d have FRIDAY grab an image of Peter wearing it from the lab surveillance feed and text it to him later. He’d include a message that read something along the lines of ‘hey, look what I found. I hope you didn’t want it back. I’m to understand that it’s comfy.’
He laughed quietly, stood up and towed Peter into a light side hug. “It’s always more comfortable when it’s borrowed, huh.”
“Yeah,” Peter agreed. “It definitely is.”