Chapter Text
Tony Stark lived his life on impulse. If he felt the urge to do something, he usually did it. He just decided and that was that.
So he wasn't too surprised when he found himself playing with Peter's hair. It was just so soft and curly.
Peter had fallen asleep with his head resting on Tony's shoulder. His warm forehead was pressed against Tony, and his soft snores had been right in Tony's ear since he had dozed off.
The room was quiet, and the TV was off, leaving Tony all alone with a sick Peter. Who happened to have very soft hair, as he had found.
Tony's fingers carded through Peter's hair. He let out a quiet sigh, and Tony froze, hoping it didn't wake him up. Instead, Peter nuzzled into his shoulder and snored louder. Tony continued, brushing Peter's bangs back from his warm forehead.
He wasn't sure how long it took, but eventually Tony slipped away into a light sleep as well.
Happy Hogan didn't do kids. But if he knew someone who was even less competent at handling children, it was Tony Stark. Tony had no gauge for how to deal with any age under 18. He would give a 6 year old a Ferrari as a Christmas gift, and offer a 17 year old dinosaur chicken strips as the only possible meal option.
So Happy was certain that nothing could be going well if Peter was sick. Based on the phone conversation he and Tony had, Tony didn't know what was going on. And he was slightly worried by how quickly Tony hung up.
Happy swiped his copy of the room key and let the door swing open. He had an armful of grocery bags he nearly dropped when he stepped into the room. The hotel door began to swing shut agonizingly slowly.
Peter was asleep, curled into Tony's side. He had a hand firmly gripping Tony's right arm. Tony was on top of the covers, still sitting upright, fully asleep. His left hand was resting on top of Peter's head.
Happy set the bags on the table near the door and was reaching for his phone to take a picture - ultimate blackmail - when the door behind him slammed.
Peter shot awake, his grip on Tony's arm tightening to a painful level. Tony frowned and woke up, clenching his jaw in pain.
"Ow, Peter, what?" Tony pulled his hand away from Peter's hair, a flush of embarrassment spreading across his face. Tony's eyes followed Peter's. "Oh, Happy." Peter relaxed and let his hand drop from Tony's arm.
"Hey Happy." Peter said, his voice scratchy and congested.
"Hey, kid. You sound rough." Happy tucked away his phone. He turned to Tony. "I brought some stuff to help. I got soup, tissues, that sort of thing. Do I need to get the car to take him back to his aunt?"
Peter tensed at that. "Don't bother May-" he squeaked before his voice broke into coughing. Tony shook his head.
"May's out of town." Tony explained as he stood up from the bed and stretched. He reached for one of the bags. "I've got it, though. I think you might have to handle explaining to everyone that we can't make it to those events."
"Are you sure you don't need help?" Happy raised an eyebrow. Tony nodded.
"Thanks for this." Tony lifted the bags from the table and took them to the bedside table.
"Thanks, Happy." Peter said from the bundle of blankets.
"Sure. Feel better." Happy walked back to the door and left. All he could think was, "where is Tony Stark and what did Peter do with him?" Tony was not the caretaking type. In fact, Happy remembered him not even coming in to the office during flu season. Peter must have worked some evil magic on him.
"Do you want soup?"
Peter jumped at the question and grabbed the steaming to go container from Tony. He was about to just drink it when Tony also handed him a spoon.
"I see you're doing better." Tony sat down and rummaged through the bag. Peter sniffled quietly into his soup until Tony threw a pack of tissues at him.
Peter took one and blew his nose before setting the soup on the bedside table.
He reached for his phone and found a series of texts from Ned.
"Are you okay?"
"Alright. You aren't going to answer that honestly."
"You need to rest though. You have a fever and I know it."
"Mr. Stark needs to know."
"Does May know?"
"Peter. Respond."
Peter smiled and tapped out a quick response.
"Sorry I was sleeping. Mr. Stark figured it out and May kind of did too before I left. I'm okay. Stop worrying." Peter reached for a tissue and muffled a congested sneeze into it. He was expecting a 'bless you' or something from Tony but didn't get one. He looked up to realize Tony was asleep again. Peter hid a small smile.
Neither he nor Tony got enough sleep unless they were forced into it.