Chapter Text
“Hey, Mister Stark,” Peter said as he scooted into the passenger seat.
Glancing briefly at his mentee, Tony replied, “Hi Underoos. Let’s get this show on the road, shall we?”
Peter nodded in response, pulling out his earbuds, and Tony kicked the car into gear.
They were going to a conference for completely air-safe vehicles today, and though Tony personally felt the topic was extremely boring, he knew Peter would have an interest in it. Plus, the kid would decidedly make things more fun for him.
“So, how was school?” Tony asked, trying to lift the heavy silence that had settled into the car not long after they took off. “Anything exciting happen?”
Peter shook his head. “No.”
Tony looked at Peter’s pale complexion and wished he wasn’t driving so that he could place his full attention on Peter. He had been awfully quiet, Tony noticed, which wasn’t exactly what Peter was remembered for. Until now, Tony didn’t even realize the kid could stop talking.
“Are you alright there, Pete? You’re not looking so hot,” Tony said.
Peter replied, “I’m fine, just a bit tired. Patrolling went late last night, and I had a bunch of tests today…” he trailed off, not providing any more of an explanation.
Tony looked at Peter’s glazed-over eyes, eyeing him carefully. At the same time, though, he was slightly relieved the kid wasnt sick. He was just exhausted, that’s all. Nothing a good night’s sleep couldn’t fix. Just as a precaution, he said, “Okay. Try to get some sleep in the car, and tell me if you start to feel any different.”
Before Tony had finished his sentence, Peter had already drifted asleeep.
“We’re here,” Tony whispered, nudging Peter awake. He had napped the rest of the three-hour drive there, and though he got rest, Peter had felt impossibly more tired than when he fell asleep.
”Mmgph,” Peter mumbled. He rubbed his eyes and sat up gingerly, the headache he had earlier returning full force. He considered telling Tony but decided against it. This conference was obviously important if he had invited him along, and Peter wasn’t going to ruin it all because of some stupid headache.
Clearing his throat and praying he didn’t sound too gravelly, Peter mustered some excitement into his voice. “Yay.”
Even in his less-than-healthy state, Peter couldn’t help but be impressed by the magnificence of the building. White alabaster covered the wassl, and red tapestries with golden trimmings served as curtains for the large rectangular windows. Peter’s awe quickly diminished, though, as the harsh lights of the many chandeliers caused him to squint. Not even a minute after he arrived, Peter wished he could leave.
Tony had gotten whisked away by two men wearing overly-priced suits, leaving Peter to wander by himself. Before walking off Tony said to Peter, “I’ll be right back. Eat some snacks, buy a drink, do whatever you want— but know that people are going to want to have small talk with you. You are my intern, after all.”
Peter planned to do none of those things. Especially not eat. To accompany his throbbing head, his stomach had started uncomfortably churning when he awoke earlier. All he wanted to do was go home and curl into a ball of patheticness.
Peter found a small table in the corner of the room, but he didn’t get very far before someone stopped him, asking meaningless questions about his internship with “The Amazing Tony Stark”.
And another.
And another.
At this rate, he would never be able to sit down. Peter was shaking, his legs threatening to buckle underneath him. Sweat dripped down his brow, and yet nobody seemed to notice. It was as if he were invisible. Peter spotted Tony in the crowd and made his way towards him. He felt bad for asking Tony to bring him home, and the thought of even mildly inconveniencing Tony made his stomach churn.
No, wait. That wasn’t just the guilt.
Peter pushed his way towards his mentor, pointedly ignoring the various men and women trying to wave him over. When he got there, Tony was engrossed in a conversation with a blond woman wearing a way-too-tight ponytail. They were talking about something that had to do with…. Car exhaust?
“Mister Stark?” Peter whined, pulling at Tony’s sleeve. He absolutely hated himself for acting so childish, but his stomach was turning more violently and saliva was pooling in his mouth— oh gosh he had to get out of here.
“Mister Stark?” He tried again, pulling harder.
“Just a sec, kid,” Tony said, absentmindedly prying Peter’s fingers off his arm. Peter swallowed compulsively, feeling himself grow increasingly warm. He had to get his man’s attention. Now.
”Tony,” Peter choked out. “I don’t feel—” Peter’s stomach lurched violently and his hand flew to his mouth, the conversation between Tony and the other lady coming to an end.
”Shit,” he heard Tony swear. Peter hunched over, his eyes squeezed shut. He forced the mouthful of vomit back down his throat, knowing he had only delayed the inevitable.
“Let’s get you to the bathroom.” Tony said, yanking Peter’s arm.
They had barely managed to get into the stall before Peter collapsed to his knees, coughing out a string of bile. The next heave was more productive, sending a heavy stream of vomit into the back of the toilet bowl.
Tony’s tentative hand on Peter’s back was doing nothing to comfort him, and Peter’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment and exertion. He didn’t need to see the man’s face to know he was cringing.
“It’s okay, buddy. Just let it all out.” Somehow, the statement made Peter feel even worse, sending tears to his eyes.
“I’m so—sorry, Mister—” Peter rasped between dry heaves. “Stark. Blurhg—oh, that was gross—” Peter was cut off by an undignifying belch, sending his head right back over the toilet.
“There’s no reason to apologize, kiddo. I just wish you told me sooner.” When Peter was done with that round of vomiting, he spoke, “I did try to tell you.”
“Yeah, three seconds before you barfed your guts out. I’d appreciate a warning at least thirty minutes in advance. Five hours, maybe, to allow me to uninvite you from this conference.”
Peter knew Tony meant it jokingly, but it still stung nevertheless. And in his fevered state, it hit that much harder.
Fresh tears sprung to his eyes. “I’m so sorry. Like, super sorry Mister Stark for ruining everything I shouldn’t have come you shouldn’t have invited me I always make everything worse—”
”Woah, woah, woah, kid. Take a breath,” Tony soothed, cutting off Peter’s rambling. Fat tears rolled down Peter’s cheeks, and he was hiccuping uncontrollably. Peter looked at his mentor with round, almost frightened eyes.
“I swear, kid, I’m gonna ban you from apologizing.”
“Sorry.”
Tony rolled his eyes, but his features softened. “Pete, you’re not a burden. You need to understand that. Nor are you an inconvenience, or an annoyance, or any of these other things you like to tell yourself. Okay?” he waited to see Peter nod before he continued. “And you certainly don’t make anything worse. In fact, you make my life better. That’s part of the reason I invited you, ya know. I knew that with you here, things would be more bearable.”
“So…” Peter blinked. “You’re not mad?”
Tony looked incredulous. “Of course not! Kid, you really need to learn how to read people better. Now, are you ready to go home?”
Peter was about to shake his head no, but Tony was already lifting him up. A new wave of nausea rolled over Peter, and before he knew what was happening, he was bringing up what little food was left in his stomach all over Tony’s expensive suit.
Tony unceremoniously dropped Peter, taken aback, regretting it when Peter slumped to the floor with as much grace as a rag doll. Peter didn’t seem to mind, though, as his thoughts were otherwise occupied.
With one arm snaked protectively around his abdomen, Peter grumbled, “I think you need to learn how to read people better, Mister Stark.”
Tony laughed. “Jeez. Didn’t know you got so feisty when you were sick. I was expecting at least some remorse, considering you just puked on my suit.”
Peter really wasn’t in the mood. Remembering Mr. Stark’s comment about how he apologized too much, he just said, “Whatever.”
“I don’t think I like this Peter very much,” Tony replied, ruffling Peter’s hair fondly.
The End