"Mentor Torment"-Avengers, M, Tony Stark

[SleepingPhlox]

I haven't attempted to write a story in forever.  I just couldn't for a while.  But at the moment every fibre of my being is flooded with an intense desire for sick Tony Stark, so I've tried really, really hard to get back into writing.  I hope the result is passable!

Set post-Civil War.  Not really too spoilery unless you have actively avoided all news about this movie including that one bit from the trailers and previews that everyone got really excited about.  Then the whole story is kinda one big spoiler.

Summary:  A miserably sick Tony Stark follows through on his promise to mentor an excitable, tireless, and very star-struck young Peter Parker.  One or both of them may not survive this day.  Despite being set after the saddest movie in history, this will be decidedly light hearted.

No sneezing in this part, it is just to set the scene.

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Part 1-Introduction

The moment Peter Parker spotted the yellow sports car, he lept from his seat by the window and raced out of the apartment.  He had to double back to grab his rucksack-couldn't forget that, it was the whole point.  Well not the bag, what was in it was the whole point.  Yeah, anyway, he needed it.  Oh, wait, there was the notebook on his desk.  Had to double back again and get that too.  It wasn't as important but he kinda wanted it.

Man, he bet that car cost as much as a house.  Maybe, like, even two houses.  And it looked so cool.  If he could invent some cool new stuff, would he be able to afford cars like that too?  He sure did hope everyone saw him getting into it because, seriously, how important did he look right now!

"Oh my god, this is the best," he babbled breathlessly as he opened the passenger door and plopped his rucksack in the footwell.  "I hope you don't mind, but I brought some extra stuff for you to...oh."  He deflated noticably.  "You're not Mr. Stark.   Where's Mr. Stark?  I kinda thought...well, I thought he'd be here personally."  Peter puffed out his chest and added.  "He's kinda mentoring me.  Taking me under his wing.  You could call me his protege."

"Sorry, kid.  I just have instructions to pick you up and bring you to the tower.  That's about all I know."

Okay.  Well, yes, that made sense.  Mr. Stark was probably way super busy.  He was, like, a superhero, plus in charge of a big company, and he built stuff for the Avengers so...yeah, like he had time to drive around and do his own errands.  Right?  Besides, that probably meant that this guy was a chauffeur or something.  Cool.  Peter had never been driven by a chauffeur before.  Did that mean that this guy had to do what Peter told him to right now?

Only one way to find out...

"Hey, do you think we can stop for ice cream cones on the way?"

"Ice cream cones?  In this car?  Not a chance."

"Oh.  Okay.  Cool."

Peter was met at the entrance to the tower by a smartly dressed dark-haired woman, who escorted him into an elevator.  She pressed a button for one of the top floors, and the elevator ride went on in what felt like an unending silence.

"So, like, do you have any superpowers, or do you just work here?  Oh!  I don't mean that in a bad way, like you 'just' work here, I meant...uh...do superheroes have a special word to call normal people so the normal-should I call them 'non-superpowered'- people don't get offended, or..."

She gave a small smile, bringing a hand gracefully to her face to suppress a laugh.  "No superpowers for me," she said gently.  "Unless you count being able to stay on my feet all day in high heels.   Anyway," The doors of the elevator slid open.  "This is where we part ways.  I have been told to tell you that everything you need is here and you will have assistance in finding whatever else you require."

"Wait-" he attempted to call out, but the doors of the elevator had already closed.  Obviously that woman had made a mistake because he was pretty sure this room was empty.  It was huge, and there were many places someone could be hiding, but it was way too quiet.  And Mr. Stark didn't seem like the kind of guy to play a joke like hiding somewhere and jumping out to yell surprise.

Unless...

Peter poked his head under a couple of desks.

"Hello," he called out cautiously.  "Mr. Stark?  I'm here, I brought my stuff."

"I'm sorry.  Mr. Stark is not present in this room."

Peter jumped and yelped as he was answered by an entirely unexpected female voice that seemed to come out of nowhere and everywhere all at once.   He looked around, not really sure where to direct his reply to.

"Um...hi.  My name is Peter.  I...um...I'm looking for Mr. Stark.  He was going to start mentoring me today.  I think I ended up in the wrong room."

"You are in the correct room.  The boss is busy and will not be joining us today.  I have been instructed to assist you in any way I can.  You can stop looking for me, by the way.  I am the tower's integrated A.I. program.  You can call me F.R.I.D.A.Y."

Now that was about the coolest thing ever, but Peter was now far too dejected to even react to just how cool it was.  All the excitement that had built up in him since he first got the offer to come here and work on his projects with his absolute biggest hero in the whole world...he could almost actually physically feel it whooshing out of him like a rapidly deflating balloon.

"Pardon me for one moment," the omnipresent voice chirped, then oppressive silence followed a small click.

Two floors up, where Tony Stark sat with his head propped up on one hand and a cup of coffee in the other, staring rather blankly at the surface of the desk (if anyone asked, this was a very, very critical part of whatever it was he was meant to be doing) there was suddenly very decidedly not silence.  

This vexed Tony greatly.

"Boss?"

"Whatever it is, the answer is no."

"Boss?  Boss?  Boss?"

"That's not going to work this time.  Leave me alone, I'm busy."

"Yes, very busy.  You haven't moved from that position in twenty minutes."

"I'm thinking.  Leave me alone."

"Just hear me out.  I'm no expert on human emotions, but I'm pretty sure there is an absolutely devastated young man downstairs.  Now you promised you were going to spend time working on projects with him today, and I think you should honour that promise."

Tony raised his head wearily, revealing to thankfully no onlookers that the cause of his current reluctance to move was written all over his face, so to speak.  Weary, reddened eyes; fever-paled skin; the sheen of sweat over his forehead and dampening his hair;  and a nose so red it betrayed the half-box of tissues that had been applied to it since whatever time it was last night that he'd woken up feeling like he'd gone a few rounds with the Hulk.

"I've already explained to you why I'm skipping that today.  I'm not leaving this room looking and sounding like this.  I do have an image to maintain, you know."

"Understood, boss.  Absolutely.  I won't say a further word on the subject.  Now...my, but he is an energetic and curious young lad.  I get the impression he might be rather clumsy, too.  If he gets it in his head to start exploring things that you've deemed restricted...of course I'll tell him not to...but whatever shall I do if he doesn't listen to me?  I have no way of stopping him.  Now lets see, what sorts of things are down there that we wouldn't want curious hands getting into, I wonder..."

"Fine," Tony groaned, using every ounce of his strength to push himself into a standing position.  "I'll go, I'll go.  Half an hour, that's all he gets.  I hate you so much right now."

"Duly noted," F.R.I.D.A.Y. chirped, then re-established her communication link two floors down to startle Peter beyond belief by cheerfully announcing: "Mr. Stark will be with you shortly.  Oh, and I wouldn't let him catch you playing with that if I were you."

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To be continued...

 

[SneezyHolmes]

Oh. OH. OHHHHHHHHHH. Hey, you there? Yeah you, stop writing such cute Tony fluff right this instant! But seriously, I'm eagerly patiently waiting for more!  

[TheMaster]

Ohh this is awesome. I'm really looking forward to reading the next part. 

[SleepingPhlox]

Thank you both!  I very much appreciate it.  Seriously, there is something about Tony that is just so do-this-to-able.  Haven't had this much fun thinking about a character in ages!

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Part 2-Yeah, Nobody's Buying That Denial, Tony

 

Tony trudged down the final hallway on the way to his destination.  Did it always take this long to get from one place to another?  His body ached, and his head pounded with every step.  His stomach had begun to register its slight displeasure at being shifted around as well.  It felt a bit like being hungover, only much worse-with the added benefit of a fever and none of the fun of getting to guess what he'd gotten up to the night before.

He could rule out influenza as being the cause of his illness-both by virtue of the fact that he could still walk, and because he had already scanned himself to determine what manner of invader was currently living inside his body.  Just an ordinary, run of the mill cold, albeit one of the worst he could ever remember having.

Before entering the room, he leaned his shoulder onto the wall and brought the back of his hand up to his nose.

"Hhh'ktchh!  Ktchhh!  Hehhh...ehhptchh!  Ugh..."

He had to wait a second or two for the resulting dizziness to subside, then he entered the room.

Peter leapt up and bounded toward him, in a way that Tony imagined a puppy might, if he ever actually paid any attention to animals instead of finding them unsanitary and annoyingly unpredictable.  The kid couldn't seem to decide if he was going to hug Tony, shake his hand, or go for a high five.  He ended up settling for stopping in front of him and giving an awkward wave.

"Mr. Stark!  Oh man, I'm so glad you could make it after all.  I have stuff I want to show you.  The room was talking to me.  It's incredible.  Can it respond to anything or just what it's programmed to?  Do you think I could get one of those for my bedroom?"

"I wouldn't subject my A.I. to having to live in a teenage boy's bedroom.  But depending on how much she annoys me today, I might let you take her apart to learn how to build your own."  He pushed past Peter in a bid to find a chair as quickly as possible, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands.  "And kid, you know how you're usually up at around an 11?  I'm gonna need you to dial it down to about a 3 today, okay?"  He plopped himself down onto a stool and rested his head in his hands.

"What? I don't understand. Oh, wait, I got it. Dial it down. Can do, Mr. Stark.  You got it.  I-oh wow.  You don't look so good.  Are you okay?  Are you sick?  Is there anything I can do to help?  Can I get you anything?"

Tony shook his head slowly and carefully in an attempt to not unduly cause any further dizziness or pain.  "I'm fine, kid.  I've been working hard lately and I'm really tired, okay?"  He sniffed thickly.  "So lets work on a nice, quiet science project today, got it?"

Peter reached for his notebook, slid it over to himself,  and clutched it close to his chest.  "I totally have to show you something first, Mr. Stark.   Or...can I call you Tony?"

"Absolutely not."

"Oh.  Okay.  Got it, Mr. Stark.  Sir.  Look, at this.  I drew you.  Well, it's not you, it's you when you're Iron Man.  Which is still you, but...you know what I mean."

Tony accepted the paper that Peter was proffering, but immediately had to twist around in his seat to aim an impending nasal explosion away from the kid and down toward the floor.

"Hehh...eehhptchh!  Hnnghtchhh!  Tchhhkh!  Ugh...*sniff*...Dice job, kid.  I bead, id's a liddle weird thad you did thad, bud id's dod bad, add I'b fladdered."  He snuffled to try to clear some of the stuffiness out of his voice.

"Are you sure you're not sick?  Because you sure sound pretty sick to me.  It's okay if you are.  I think the...the 'change' gave my immune system a huge boost too.  It makes sense, I guess, if the rest of me got stronger.  Anyway I don't mind being here even if you're sick because I don't think I can catch it.  I didn't even get food poisoning the other day when I found a two week old burger in the fridge and ate it.  I could probably eat garbage and not have anything bad happen to me."

Tony's face was a mixture of disgust, horror, disbelief, and fascination.  

"Yeah, I dod't thigk thad's sobethigg to brag aboud, kid." He snuffled again, deeper this time.  He tapped the table impatiently.  "Come on, let's get this show on the road. I'm a busy man, Parker, I need to be quick here, I've got things I gotta do."

He slumped down closer to the table, his head feeling heavier and heavier, wishing he'd had the foresight to bring his coffee down here with him.  Caffeine was possibly the only thing that had a remote chance of keeping him going right now.  He sniffled, and sighed.

"Do you need to blow your nose?  I can go get you a tissue if you want.  Aunt May says that blowing your nose is better than sitting there sniffing.  I think she just hates the sound of sniffing though.  Oh, hey.  Here, I have some Burger King napkins.  You can have them if you want...oops, that one's got mustard on it.  Anyway, here."

Tony rubbed his temples.  "I dod't deed theb.  I'b fide."  Another deep sniff to clear his nasal passages long enough to speak.  "Look, if you really want to help...see that coffee machine over there?  There's a mug next to it.  Put the bug udder the black dozzle, press the oradge buttod, add thed press the dubber three.  Cad you baddage thad?"

Great, the stuffiness was now coming back so rapidly that soon he wouldn't be able to keep up with it at all.  Fantastic.

"Yes, sir.  Mr. Stark.  I can totally do that for you."

The kid bounded toward the coffee maker, and not a moment too soon.  Tony had been feeling a drip slowly gathering at the tip of his nose.  A fraction of a second later and it would have reached critical mass and dropped into his lap or on his shirt.  The instant he was sure he would not be observed, he used one of the napkins to wipe his nose as thoroughly as possible, then crammed the evidence into his pocket.  Then, he let his head slowly sink down toward the table until it rested on the inside of his outstretched arm.  The machine had to grind the beans, fill itself with fresh water, heat the water, and then percolate.  That would buy him some time...

____________________________________________

To be continued...

 

[lilysneeze]

Wow Peter so hyper like a ittle kid on a sugar rush  Gotta love Tony though. Wonder when he is going to cave

[Spoo]

8 hours ago, SleepingPhlox said:

Peter reached for his notebook, slid it over to himself,  and clutched it close to his chest.  "I totally have to show you something first, Mr. Stark.   Or...can I call you Tony?"

"Absolutely not."

Okay, I laughed REALLY loudly here.  I can hear this particular verbal exchange so clearly in my head it isn't funny. 

You have a great fic so far! I love Tony in general, but sick!Tony is like ten times better. He's done with everything and just wants to wallow in peace. Poor guy! Hopefully he can hang in there for Peter's sake.  

[this_is_not_me]

I loveeee this so far. Poor Tony. 

[beatlelover22]

Oh this is so great. You characterised Peter so well  Can't wait for more (if there is any)! 

[matilda3948]

 Aww! I LOVE sick!Tony. I recently saw the movie and now I'm definitely craving more Avengers stories. This is so well written and totally in character. Great job!!

[sapphiremint]

I love this so much!  I've missed sick!Tony and you do an amazing job with the dialogue and characterizations.  I especially love how you write Peter; it sounds just like Tom Holland's take on the character! 

[BananaFan]

This is so adorable. I'm guessing you're using the Civil War Spiderman, and you're doing amazing with it  I love the way you write Tony.  Bravo!

[stifledsneezelover]

This is a piece of beauty! I absolutely adore sick!Tony and there haven't been many fics in a while so this was a breath of fresh air for sure! Thank you for this 

[TouchOfGrey]

 Yes! Do continue!

[ohlala8]

Ooooh, I love sick!Tony so much. Happy to see the new movie putting some new story possibilities out there--even ones that aren't horribly angst-ridden.

[VividBubbles!]

This is absolutely lovely! The interaction between Peter and Tony is so spot-on and perfect! I love it!  I can't wait to read more!

[SleepingPhlox]

I want to thank you guys so, so much for the nice comments.  It means so much to me.

Also, yes, this is the Civil War Peter Parker.  I loved his character in it-it was exactly what that character should have been:  a doofy, excitable kid who got powers and is now a doofy, excitable kid with powers.  And the dynamic between Peter and Tony was priceless.  If I can sort of capture that a little bit, I can count myself happy.

I wanted to post this bit forever ago, but am only able to do it now.  The next wait shall not be as long!

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Part 3-The Perils Of Writing About Scientifically-Minded Characters When You Haven't A Clue Yourself...

Tony jumped, startled into a state of high alertness when something touched his hairline just above his forehead.  

"Sorry, Mr. Stark.  I didn't mean to scare you.  I just wanted to check you for a fever. I'm pretty sure you have one.  You're really warm."

He realised that the something had been Peter's hand, and Peter was damned lucky that Tony was as slowed down as he currently was.  Any other time and he would have grabbed Peter by the wrist and slammed his arm against the edge of the table in an attempt to break it before he even registered what he was doing.  The things he had seen, done, and lived through...to say they had made him jumpy would be an understatement.

"It's okay," he panted, choosing to completely ignore Peter's last two sentences.  "Just, maybe don't sneak up on me like that.  Or, you know, touch me.  Ever."  He sniffled, straightening himself up with some difficulty.  His voice had begun to croak on the last sentence, so he coughed before continuing:  "Okay, so what project are you working on?"

"Because you really, really seem like you don't feel good, and I'm kinda thinking that maybe I should come back another time so you can go rest and get better."

Well that settled it.  He may have been contemplating trying to get out of this before, but his relentless stubborn streak was now going to make him sit here and suffer through every moment until it was over or it killed him.  Or both.

"I.  Am.  Fine." he said slowly, his voice betraying every ounce of annoyance that he felt.  "I told you, I'm very tired from working late.  And when I'm tired, I get cranky.  And when I'm cranky, I'm not very nice, so it's not a good idea to-hhhh...hhehNGKCHHU!  Htchhhu!  Hehhhh...hehhhh...hhhhh..."  A long pause, then:  "Ugh. *sniff*  To pi-hihhhTCHHU!-iss be off.  Dow show be the project already."

"Okay, if you say so," Peter mumbled far too chirpily under his breath.  He reached for his rucksack and produced what could have been a large robotic hockey puck.  It was flat, cylindrical, and half disassembled, with wires poking out of where the casing had been pried open.

"Someone threw away a Roomba," he said proudly.  "Can you believe it?  It wasn't working when I found it, but I got it to sort of work again.  It goes in a straight line anyway.  I can understand where the sensors are and how they're supposed to work but...I kinda thought if it could be modified to recognise specific objects...it could be a sort of seek-and-retrieve robot.  What do you think?"

Tony gave a derisive little scoff.  "These things still exist?  On the scale of technological advancement they're more at the 'banging two rocks together' end.  Still, it'll do for a beginner, I guess."

His words may have been dismissive, but his mind was already clicking into gear.  This mentoring thing was actually a great idea.  He had so much wisdom to impart, so why hadn't it occured to him until now to actually impart it?  He sipped his coffee.  He expected the warmth of the liquid to soothe his throat, but instead it hurt like holy hell.  He coughed a few times, finishing off with a loud snuffle and snort.

"Okay," he said, his voice beginning to sound vaguely hoarse.  He cleared his throat before continuing, hoping it would return his voice back to normal.  It did not.  "You're trying to do everything all at once.  You're trying to learn about the tech for the first time, plus trying to...hhnkkgTCHH!...to fix thi'gs a'd bake dew plads before fully..." He sniffed deeply.  "Understanding what it is you're looking at."

He gulped more coffee.  His nose was starting to run with impressive determination and he'd need to send the kid off to refill his mug as a distraction again soon.  He sniffled in an attempt to stem the tide.

"Ever drawn up electrical diagrams and schematics, kid?" he asked.

Peter shook his head no.

"Well congratulations, because today you're goi'g to leard od by owd persodal software...*sniff*...F.R.I.D.A.Y, can you load up Stark Diagramatics on the codsole over here a'd opedd up a dew file?"

"Sorry, I didn't quite understand that.  Can you repeat your request?"

"Fuddy.  Very fuddy.  How aboud do whad I said or Petey here is taki'g your prograb hobe with hib todight."

"Oh my gosh, Mr. Stark.  Really?" Peter effused.

"Of course dot.  Shud up...*sniff*...alright, look.  Here's what I want you to do.  Take this whole thing apart, down to every last screw and wire.  Every single time you remove something, pass it through this 3-D scanner."  He paused to cough.  "It converts it to a diagram outline and perfectly adjusts the size to be relative to the other items you've scanned.  Then you just swipe with your finger until it's in the correct...*sniff*...spot.  Now, this doesn't really have a tutorial mode or help files or...yeah, I made it for my own personal use so obviously I know how to use it.  So F.R.I.D.A.Y. is going to be your own personal help desk.  She'll help you place the elements properly.  All you need to do is to make sure to scan every little bit of this...er...lets call it 'technology' and make sure it's logged on the screen."

When he was sure his instructions had been understood, Tony huddled into himself, pressing his arms into his sides in an attempt to conserve as much heat as possible.  If he was being completely honest, the fact that this would keep Peter quiet and out of his hair for a while was a huge factor in choosing it as a task.  But it wasn't busywork by a long shot.  It actually was a very important skill to learn-he just didn't have the ability to take a very active role in teaching it right now.

And now Tony was free to do the very important things he needed to do which, at this moment in time seemed to consist of staring vacantly at the top of the desk and occasionally sneezing at it.  Sometimes, when he was sure that Peter wouldn't catch him doing it, he would retrieve the crumpled napkin from his pocket and dab the end of his nose with it, to catch the drips that kept forming at the tip of his nose.  They were forming with such alarming regularity, that it was time to take drastic measures to try to keep them at bay.

First he needed to distract Parker.

He tapped his mug on the table, startling Peter out of what had been quite a deep reverie.

"By bug is ebpty, kid.  Dew really ibporda'd job for you.  Every tibe you see this ebpty, fill it up.  God id?"

"Sure thing, Mr. Stark.  Can do.  This program is really cool, and learning about diagrams is really cool, by the way.  Thank you so much.  And FRIDAY is really helpful and nice.  I think she's really helping me get the hang of it."

"Did you hear that, boss?" the A.I.'s disembodied voice chirped.  "I'm really helpful and nice."

Tony buried his face in his hands and sniffled.

"You're on thin ice, FRIDAY.  Very thin ice."

_____________________________________

To be continued!

 

[Spoo]

This just keeps getting better and better!  The dialogue is still completely on point~ Also, poor Tony, man. Putting up with Peter's teenage shenanigans.  On the other hand, I am completely DIGGING this Tony!torture. Feel free to give him a drippy cold any time, SP.  

[VividBubbles!]

I love this so much oh my god I can't stop smiling it's getting a little creepy. Everything is just so in character and Tony and FRIDAY's banter is hilarious and Peter being concerned but also super excited by new tech is just so perfect! Thank you so much for writing this! I didn't know how much I needed this until now. I can't wait to read more!

[BananaFan]

Ghhhh you're doing such a fantastic job with both of these characters, I feel like this could be a legitimate canon story (those are the besssst).  

Guh! Tony's mid-sentence sneezes are killing me, and I looooooove that he keeps needing to distract Peter when he gets super stuffy.

Oh oh oh! AND the snark from F.R.I.D.A.Y. was just perfect!

Pleasepleaseplease continue!!

[SleepingPhlox]

Okay, I have to admit, I have an extreme dislike for ending fics and this one was coming up to where I was originally planning to end it and I kinda didn't want to touch it because then I'd have to say goodbye to it. But this part has been screaming at me for, like, weeks and I had to polish it up and get it up.

Possible messiness warning?  I don't think it's all that messy, but some might, so just in case...

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Part 4-The Point Of No Return (Or, Famous Last Words)

It was a difficult task to blow his nose as quietly as possible and as forcefully at the same time, but upon assessing his execution, Tony judged it satisfactory.  He'd been keeping watch on Peter out of the corner of his eye, and he hadn't registered a reaction from the kid, so he figured his performance had indeed been a strictly private one.  In fact, he had cleared his sinuses so thoroughly that he felt confident it would be quite some time before the uncivilised behaviour of his nose became an issue again.

He had just managed to shove the thoroughly dampened tissue back into his pocket (disgusting, but what were the other alternatives?) when Peter returned with yet another steaming cup of coffee.

"I like your mug," he said.  "It's funny."

"Yeah, it's a real hoot," Tony said in a rather dismissive-and definitely grouchy-manner, though in truth he was rather fond of it himself.

The mug was plain, black text on a white background, in the manner of those insipid "World's Greatest Dad/Boss/What-The-Hell-Ever" designs.  However this one left the choice of final noun blank, and had come with a set of heat-sealing stickers for the mug-owner to fill in whatever description they reckoned fitted them best.  He thought it would be amusing to discard the stickers and leave it the way it was.  Admittedly, he remained proud of that little joke, confident that practically nobody else would have thought of it.

Sipping on the warm liquid, he tested his nasal passages with a slight sniff to be on the safe side.  Only the slightest amount of air managed to make it through, but although his nose was incredibly stuffed up-to put it mildly-at least it wasn't runny.  That was the main thing.  He rubbed his finger underneath his nostrils to subdue a threatening tickle.  That area was dry too.  So far, so good.

He leaned over to appraise Peter's progress on the screen.

"Dod bad," he said.  He winced at how ridiculous his voice sounded, knowing there was very little he could do to hide the congestion-drenched sound at this point.  "At this poi'd the cobpuder is doi'g bost of the work for you.  We'll work od the theory dext tibe.  I'll give you sobe stuff to read aboud it too...hold od..."

He turned away as quickly as possible to aim three harsh sneezes away from Peter and toward the floor.  These triggered a bout of coughing that left him slightly breathless at the end.  He turned back with a sniffle, pinching the bridge of his nose in a futile attempt to massage away some of the dull congestion pain.

He took a deep breath, every hindrance that tried to get in his way just making him even more determined to press on.  

"Electrical diagrabs-" He tried to clear some of the croakiness from his voice. "Are very ibporda'd..."
Nope.  Apparently part of his voice had just up and left for the time being.  No wonder, with the burning pain the coughing had stirred up in his throat.  "Bud I'd deed a whole day to ged idto that.  So for dow we'll...HeeehhhEEESHHHgh!...ugh."

It came on so quickly he had no time to prepare.  With the scant warning he had, he had just enough time to register that he needed to reach for another one of the napkins.  He didn't end up sneezing into it so much as at it, more or less in its general direction.  Granted, it did block some of the impressive amount of spray he produced.  Then again, his hand, his arm, some of the papers and part of the desk managed to catch a better portion of it so the napkin was more or less ornamental at that point.

He brought the napkin to his face, covering his nose and mouth firmly as he paused, waiting for the inevitable others to follow.  Just when he was about to give up hope, or at least just stop sitting there with a napkin on his face like an idiot, his breath hitched quickly.

"HmmphTCHH!  HnnkgTCCH!...ptcchh!"  Another bout of coughing followed, further irritating his inflamed throat.

With a sigh, he set the napkin back down on the desk, hoping to call as little attention to what just happened as possible.  And the kid was staring at him.  No such luck, then.

"Are you okay, Mr. Stark?"

"Mind your own business."

"Yes, sir."

Tony sighed and ran a hand through his hair, snuffling and shifting in his seat in an attempt to find a position that wasn't murder on his sore, exhausted muscles.  He took a swig of coffee to jumpstart his brain, which had descended into a fog.

"Where were we?  I was telli'g you...diagrabs...yeah, we're dot doi'g thad today...ugh..." He looked at the screen.  Oh yeah, that.  Okay.  He could do this.  He leaned forward.  "So you're albosd dode taki'g it apart.  The challedge after thad is-"

Plip.

Tony stopped, stunned, when he wondered-despite having a sinking feeling that he already knew-where that drop of moisture that had landed on the paper on the desk beneath him had come from...

Oh no.  No, no, no, no, no.

He hadn't felt it gathering, hadn't noticed the usual wet tickle as the moisture crawled out of the depths of his nostrils, creeping along the skin at the edges of their openings, and pooling at the very tip of his nose.  He hadn't noticed the slight pull as it grew in weight, growing fatter at the bottom and thinner at the top as it pulled away from its anchor...he was aware of none of that until the moment it was too late, and there it was, an irregular darkened circle on the white surface, growing in size as it spread its damp tendrils outward into the fibres of the paper until it had decided it had soaked in and spread enough.  And then it just sat there, taunting him with its very existence.

He instintively brought his hand up to his nose to make sure that one hadn't brought any friends along with it.  This was followed swifly by retrieving the previously discarded napkin and holding it under his nostrils.  Neither Tony nor Peter knew quite what to say in this situation, and neither of them knew quite where to look, and thus began one of the most awkward silences either of them had ever known.

To be continued...

 

Edited August 4, 2016 by SleepingPhlox

[ohlala8]

So very happy you updated. This one has been pushing alllll my buttons, to the point where I've read it already several times now. The characters are spot-on, too. Poor Tony, I hope he feels better soon...

[VividBubbles!]

 Poor, poor, awkward Tony. And I love how Peter is concerned, but trying not to overstep Tony's boundaries. Their relationship is just so perfect and adorable! I hope to read more soon! (And, as I see you've mentioned this fic will be ending soon, may I suggest/request a Peter fic next? There's a huge shortage of Tom Holland fics and he's honestly the cutest person on Earth so I have no idea why. )

Edited August 5, 2016 by VividBubbles!

[SleepingPhlox]

2 hours ago, VividBubbles! said:

 Poor, poor, awkward Tony. And I love how Peter is concerned, but trying not to overstep Tony's boundaries. Their relationship is just so perfect and adorable! I hope to sea more soon! (And, as I see you've mentioned this fic will be ending soon, may I suggest/request a Peter fic next? There's a huge shortage of Tom Holland fics and he's honestly the cutest person on Earth so I have no idea why. )

  Well, now that you've put the idea in my head, when this one has finished I shall do a sequel in which Peter discovers that no, he does not even remotely have super immunity, and that assuming it was perfectly fine to stick around Tony's germs all day was a foolish mistake...

[lilysneeze]

4 minutes ago, SleepingPhlox said:

  Well, now that you've put the idea in my head, when this one has finished I shall do a sequel in which Peter discovers that no, he does not even remotely have super immunity, and that assuming it was perfectly fine to stick around Tony's germs all day was a foolish mistake...

Ooooh-oooh yes please!  Tom Holland is such a cutie, he is becoming my favorite Spider-Man I think  

[SleepingPhlox]

Again, thank you to the people who say nice things.  And everyone who reads this.  It makes me so happy to be able to share my Tony-torment.

I know this part is rather short, but it had to stop where it did.  The reason will become evident in the next chapter!

 

________________________________________________________

Part 5-Throwing In The Towel So Soon, Tony?

What was just a matter of seconds felt like an eternity as Tony's fever-addled brain ticked over like an old neglected car engine trying to think of a solution to the problem that had just casually landed on the desk like it was no big thing.  His eventual solution was to take a large sip of coffee and go back to business as usual.

Peter's solution, apparently, was to pretend not to notice, turn back to what he was doing...then wait until Tony had a huge mouthful of coffee and then-

"Hey, if you married my Aunt May, could I call you Uncle Tony?"

Admittedly, it was a good solution, because the resultant spray of coffee from Tony's mouth dotted each and every one of the papers on the desk, providing perfect camouflage for his nose's earlier crime.

He coughed and pounded his chest with his fist as dribbles of the brown liquid ran from his lips, through his goatee, before eventually dribbling off the end of his chin and pooling on his shirt.  And then the coughing from the coffee taking a wrong turn set off more coughing from the incredible irritation in his throat, until all he could do was cough and wonder if he'd be trapped in an endless cycle of coughing causing more coughing.  When he was finally able to compose himself, he croaked:

"What the hell, kid?  Don't ever do that to somebody with a heart condition."  He panted with his hand over his chest.  "Where did that even come from, anyway?"

Peter shrugged, the fact that he couldn't see what the big deal was just written in every ounce of his body language.  "You said she was hot.  I was just thinking out loud."

"Well don't think out loud.  Go over stuff twice in your head before you say it out loud.  Three times, even.  Shit.  I say a lot of women are hot.  If I married all of them...I'd have to pay more in alimony than I actually have."  He paused.  "I have a lot of money," he added, for completely unnecessary clarification.

Tony leaned back in his chair and rubbed his forehead and eyes with one hand.  With that last coughing fit, he said good bye to nearly all of his voice, barely able to speak above a harsh whisper now.  Although it wasn't for lack of trying, as he strove with every syllable to use every ounce of effort available to him to force any amount of actual voice to carry his words.  That only seemed to make things worse, the strain was painfully evident, and he decided to give up and just be quiet for a moment.

In speaking of giving up, he was so close to doing the inconceivable:  conceding defeat, saying "Screw this, I'm sick" and going to find somewhere quiet and preferably dark to lie down.  As far as colds went, this one excelled in sucking.  It was apparently trying to raise misery to dizzying new heights as an art form.  And "dizzy" was a fairly apt word to describe it, considering how he felt.  

It was getting harder and harder to hold his head up.  He was aware that his body was shivering and he couldn't do anything to stop it.  His head was pounding, with a particular concentration of pain right behind his eyeballs.  He could already feel his nose starting to run again, although by the time he registered the sensation, the glistening discharge had already found freedom and made its way halfway down to his lip.

He entertained the notion of having to burn his moustache off when this was all over.

And if he ever found out who had given this to him, he was going to thank them with a slap to the face.

Sniffling loudly, he reached for one of the last two napkins left to wipe his nose with.  After what had just happened a moment ago, there was no point in trying to be discreet any more.  This was the lesser of two evils.  He even went so far as to give a quiet, tentative blow at the end.

Not giving any thought to the fact that Peter was watching him warily with a very concerned expression-obviously torn between wanting to ask Tony if he was okay, and not wanting to be told to shut up for his troubles-Tony looked around, stretching his neck to get a good view of the desks around the room.  He leaned over and opened a few drawers until he found what he had been searching for: A ten-inch tablet computer, sleek and black around the screen, with the Stark Industries logo prominently in white across the back.  He held it up between thumb and forefinger.  It was an effortlessly weightless device, singularly so compared to anything else available.

"I'b godda..."  He paused, feeling the beginnings of a sneeze that never came. "Put sobe readi'g baterial od h...hehhh...eeehHEEHHshhh!"  Another slight pause.  "HeeehhhEEESHHHgh!...Hehh...eehhptchh!...ugh..."  He reached for the last napkin.  "You dod't have ady bore of these, do you?" he said, giving his nose another quiet, hesitant blow.

"Uh...just the mustard one."

"I'll take it."  He held out his hand.  "Gimme."  He gave a deep, saturated sniff and coughed a few times as he tried to remember what he had been talking about.  Oh, right.  "I'm going to put some reading material on here for you and I want you to have gone over them before th...hehhh...oh, cobe od!...heehhhESSSHshhh!"  He wiped his nose with the final, mustardy, napkin.  "The dext tibe I see you.  It's all about bluepri'ds and electrical diagrabs."

Peter nodded.  He had already figured out where this was going, so he had started to put his things back into his back.  The Roomba bits, his notebook, the papers-not the drawing though.  He wanted Mr. Stark to keep that one, even if it was covered in several little coffee stains now.  Sure, he was disappointed, but...nah, it would be better to come back another day, when Mr. Stark wasn't so sick-and grouchy!-and would have loads of time to pay attention to him and teach him stuff.  It was better this way.

Oops, a little piece of Roomba innards had rolled away.  He must remember not to forget or lose anything!  He leaned forward to reach it, having to hoist himself up so his knees were on the chair and his hips were on the desk.  Got it!

On his way back, his elbow connected with something.  

"Hey, that's expensive!" Tony shouted in alarm and leapt from his chair to lunge forward to protect his precious machinery...

_________________________________

To be continued...

 

 

Edited August 13, 2016 by SleepingPhlox