It would be a safe bet to say that Peter Parker wasn't feeling all too great that day, even though it was only seven thirty in the morning.

Although he'd developed a slight cold last night after patrol, he'd been confident that his spidey metabolism would take care of it and he would be fine the next day.

That wasn't the case.

He'd woken up with a stuffy nose and a complimentary headache. He felt awful.

To make things worse, he had school that day which meant bullies, condescending teachers, being shoved into lockers and who knew what else.

Plus he'd bruised his ribs last night on patrol. While the enhanced healing had mostly taken care if it, it still hurt a bit.

With some effort, Peter managed to haul himself out bed and to his closet.

He couldn't afford to take the day off. If he told May that he wanted to stay home, she'd get suspicious and then if she found out he was ill, she would insist on staying home with him and he couldn't do that.

Aunt May was working extra hard by taking multiple shifts to cover all their expenses. He respected the hell out of her for what she was doing and he didn't want to worry her anymore.

He just had to survive the day at school after which he could come home, throw himself on the bed and be miserable in peace.

After making sure that he looked okay and not like he was about to keel over, he went downstairs to find May just getting ready to leave.

"Morning, baby. I've made breakfast and no, it's not burnt today. Just a little crispy."

Peter grinned, despite how crappy he felt.

"Crispy, huh?"

"Yep. Here's your lunch money."

"Thanks, Aunt May."

She pressed a kiss to his temple. "I'll be late tonight," she told him with an apologetic smile and Peter couldn't help but feel guilty. She had no reason to be sorry. Whatever she was doing, it was for him. "Be back before curfew. I love you, honey."

"Love you too, May."

And then she left.

No sooner had she left than Peter sneezed loudly, wincing when his ribs hurt.

Well, hopefully the day wouldn't be too sucky.

Turns out Peter was wrong. As usual. His rotten Parker luck won out that day.

"Hey, Penis!" Flash zoomed past him, but not before delivering a slap to the back of his head. Peter flinched from the impact. Although it was nothing he hadn't been through before, it hurt twice as much that day.

Classes sucked.

His cold didn't go away and the meds he'd taken that morning were useless. The sneezing was the worst. The day seemed to drag on and on, every period felt ten times longer. He brushed off Ned's concerns, stating that he was mostly okay and that he'd be fine.

When the bell rang at three o' clock, Peter was one of the first to leave the building. When Ned asked again if he was alright, Peter nodded.

"I just want to go home, Ned, watch Star Wars in bed and I'll be fine."

"Star Wars? You said you'd be binge watching Brooklyn Nine-Nine with Mr. Stark. It's Friday remember?"

Oh crap.

How had he forgotten? It was Friday which meant lab time and movie nights with Mr. Stark. Ever since that whole Homecomimg incident a few months ago, the man had started mentoring Peter more seriously.

Normally, Peter was always counting down the days to Friday because it was the one thing he looked forward to more than anything else. Since May worked the night shift thrice a week, Pater ended up eating alone on those nights. It wasn't all that bad, but it did get lonely. Sure he hung out at Ned's place a couple of times but on other nights, he was alone in their little apartment.

The last thing he wanted was to bother Mr. Stark with his runny nose and headache. What kid would want to be all sickly in front of Tony-freakin'-Stark?

When they came outside, Peter saw that all too familiar Black Audi waiting for him.

"What're you gonna do now?"

Peter knew that he only had one option. "I'll tell Happy to take me home." The last thing he wanted was to get sick in front of his hero. Nothing would be worse than that.

He got into the car and shut the door. "Hey, Happy."

"Hey kid."

"Could you uh... do you mind taking me home instead? I've got like a ton of homework to do you know?"

"Seriously, kid? Homework? Boss is waiting for you. Said he had some cool stuff planned out."

Peter mentally groaned. Just being in the lab with Mr. Stark was the coolest thing in his life. If the man himself had to say it was cool, Peter couldn't even imagine how brilliant it would be.

Too bad the universe was against him and he felt like crap.

"Could you tell Mr. Stark that I'm sorry? I promise I'll be there next time."

"Yeah okay, kid. No problem."

Thirty minutes later, Happy dropped him off and Peter took the stairs to his apartment. He got in and closed the door and went to his room to grab a blanket.

May wouldn't be back until past one that night so he had until then to get better. He turned on the tv and lay down. Like magic, his head felt lighter.

Probably an hour later, he started nodding off. That's when his phone dinged.

Tony was far more disappointed than he'd like to admit when Happy had returned without the kid.

Homework? Peter was seriously skipping lab time for homework? And Tony was more than capable of helping the kid with his schoolwork. And if he were to be honest with himself, Tony liked spending time with Peter.

Like a lot.

Kid was a damn genius and he didn't even know it. He had a heart of pure gold and was way too precious for this world.

Deciding to find out what the Spiderling was up to, Tony sent him a text.

Tony Stark: Whatcha doing kid?

A minute later he received a reply.

Underoos: Homework Mr. Stark

Tony Stark: Whatcha working on?

Underoos: Chemistry

Tony Stark: Did you eat lunch?

Underoos: Yeah I did.

Tony Stark: Good boy. You wanna come by once you're done with Chem? I was planning on working on the Mark 47. Happy can come and pick you up in an hour.

There was a pause. Five minutes later, he received the kid's answer.

Underoos: I'm sorry Mr. Stark. I really can't make it today. Please don't be too mad at me :(

Tony frowned when he saw the reply. There was no way in hell the kid could give up an opportunity to work on the Ironman suit. Something was off with the kid that day. He could just feel it.

Rhodey called it his 'Irondad instinct' but that was just ridiculous. Tony Stark wasn't anyone's dad.

But he was a tad bit overprotective where Peter was concerned.

And that's how Tony Stark found himself driving to Queens.

When he arrived in front of the Parkers' building, he got out of the car and told Happy to wait for him.

He took the stairs to their apartment and rang the doorbell.

There was some shuffling before the door opened.

In front of him stood Peter Parker with a box of tissues in one hand, a blanket around his shoulders and a red nose.

Peter was sick. Tony's heart clenched at the sight before him. Kid looked adorable but in that moment, the man was more concerned with why his mentee hadn't told him that he was ill.

"Chemistry homework, Spiderboy? Really?"

The boy's eyes widened to the size of saucers when he saw Tony standing at his doorstep and the genius hid his grin. Instead, leaned against the doorframe, crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow at Peter.

"Mr. Stark! What are you uh... what are you doing here?"

"Checking up on you obviously. You gonna invite me in?"

"Er yeah, of course." Peter stepped aside to let Tony into the little apartment.

"Does Aunt Hottie know that you're not well?"

"I'm fine, Mr. Stark, seriously. I'm better now, I swear. Just need a couple hours of sleep and I'll be brand new. May doesn't need to worry about me. She's got enough on her plate already."

Well someone had to take care of this damn kid who was way to pure for this world but lacked self preservation skills in a way that rivalled Tony himself.

"Okay that's it. You're going back to the couch and I'm gonna make you something hot for that cold if yours. Then, we're gonna talk about you not telling me about this kind of stuff. Like homework seriously? Geez kid, what am I gonna do with you?"

He took Peter by the shoulders and steered him towards the sofa. He gently shoved him down to sit and headed to the kitchen.

Peter seemed to snap out of his haze by that time.

"Mr. Stark, I'm fine, honest! You really don't have to do bother. I don't wanna cause any trouble, I'm sure you've got like a whole lot of stuff to do."

Oh god this was embarrassing. Tony Stark was in his kitchen, looking through cabinets for groceries. And here he was, down with the sniffles.

"Nope. I actually don't. And I thought you'd know by now that I don't have to do anything. I'm Tony Stark and I do what I want. Now sit your butt down and let me work."

Peter figured there would be no winning an argument against the man so he sagged into the sofa and closed his eyes. He tried to keep his sniffles at bay so he didn't sound any more pathetic than he looked. Thankfully, his ribs had stopped hurting a while ago so now he only had to deal with a cold and a headache.

That and Ironman in his kitchen. He eventually drifted off into a light sleep.

Tony explored the Parker kitchen and found that it was understocked. He sent Happy a text and a grocery list. He knew that even his grumpy driver had a soft spot for the kid.

He went back into the living room to see that Peter was asleep. He'd curled up on the couch with the blanket bunched up around his shoulders.

With a fond roll of his eyes, Tony gently tugged the blanket from the boy's hands and draped it over him properly. Those adorable chocolate curls were all over his forehead and Tony's hands were itching to stroke them.

Damn it!

Ever since Homecoming, he'd started having these instincts where the kid was involved: keep him safe, keep him from doing dumb shit, make sure Peter was taking care of himself, Hell one time when he'd been talking to the kid over the phone, Rhodey had been in the car with him. He'd called it the dad-voice, whatever the hell that was.

All this was Rhodes' fault.

When Haply returned with the groceries, he knocked on the door. Tony had texted him already, telling him not to knock since Peter was asleep.

Tony opened the door and took the bag from him. "Thanks, Hap."

The driver glanced at the sleeping figure in the living room. "Kid's a little under the weather?"

"Yup. Stupid of him not to tell me or his aunt about it."

Happy cracked a small grin at that. "I'll let you get back to worrying about him, Boss. Call me if you need anything."

"Yeah yeah like you don't worry about him too. Later, Hogan."

Cooking was not something Tony did on a regular basis. When it was just him, he'd simply order some takeout, that is if he remembered to eat. But ever since Peter had started coming over to the Compound, he had started cooking.

Nothing fancy, just the basics needed by a teenager with enhanced metabolism.

From experience, he knew that chicken noodle soup was the best remedy for the common cold. He remembered the couple of times when Jarvis had made it for him when he'd been sick himself.

He set the water to boil and waited.

Half an hour later once the soup was done, he spooned some of it into a bowl and went to wake Peter.

Knowing Peter, he probably hadn't eaten anything much since he'd come home.

Tony set the bowl down on the coffee table and gently shook the Spiderling awake. "Wakey-wakey, hotshot. Stark's kitchen is serving soup today."

Peter blinked owlishly at him as his eyes opened. "Mr. St'rk?"

"In the flesh, kiddo. Come on, up you get. Soup's getting cold."

"Soup?"

"Yeah soup. It's basically a hot liquid dish made of vegetables or meat, sometimes both. You're supposed to be a genius right?" Tony held back a smirk at the kid's drowsiness.

Slowly Peter sat up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and damnit if that didn't tug at the billionaire's heartstrings.

"You made me soup?"

"Duh." Tony sat down next to Peter and held the spoon out to him. "Careful, it's hot."

Peter took the spoon from his mentor and blew on it before he tentatively tasted it. "It's good. It's really good, Mr. Stark."

"I'm Tony Stark, Underoos. Of course it's good." Tony held the bowl for a bit before Peter was sure that he'd be able to hold it in his own.

The teen practically inhaled the soup. It was gone within minutes. "How're ya feeling now, Pete? Any better?"

Peter was having a hard time believing if any of this was actually real. Here he was, sick at home and Mr. Stark had come over and made him chicken soup. Who got this kind of treatment from Ironman?

He let out a small laugh.

"What's so funny, Spiderboy?"

"I was just thinking about how many kids can say that Ironman made them soup. You really didn't have to, Mr. Stark, but thanks a lot."

Peter yelped when Mr. Stark flicked his ear. "For the last time, Underoos, I do what I want and I wanted to do this. Besides, you're special. So deal with it. Why didn't you tell me you were down with a cold? You could've come over to the Compound you know? We could've done the whole Netflix and chill deal."

Peter's shoulders dropped. The one question he'd been trying to avoid all along. "I didn't wanna appear weak. I'm a superhero you know? Heroes don't get sick, Mr. Stark. I've not fallen ill ever since the spider bite."

"For a genius, you sure have some pretty dumb moments, kid. Heroes can have sick days too you know. Next time you're not feeling too hot, you tell me. If you don't, I'll tell Aunt Hottie about the times you broke curfew. Got it?"

So far, Peter had pleaded with Tony to not tell May and he'd managed to get away lightly. Mr. Stark normally let him off with a lecture. He had a feeling Aunt May wouldn't be as lenient.

"Yes, Mr. Stark."

"I'm holding you to that, kid. Now you want anymore of that soup?"

When Peter nodded, the man got up and returned with a refill. "Here you go. You wanna do anything?"

"We were supposed to watch Brooklyn Nine-Nine." Peter was feeling much better after the second bowl of soup. The sleep had done him some good and his nose wasn't as stuffy anymore.

"We were, weren't we?"

Tony tapped his watch twice. "Hey FRI, you heard the kid."

"Yes, Boss." A projection of the Netflix logo appeared on the screen.

Of all the things Tony had planned for the day, he hadn't thought he'd be sitting in a small apartment in Queens with a sick child against his side. Yet, here he was and he didn't regret it one bit.

Halfway through the third episode, Tony felt a weight against his shoulder. He looked down to see Peter's dark head resting against him.

With a soft grin, he asked: "You comfy?"

Peter shot up like he'd been shocked. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Stark, I didn't realise, I didn't m—"

"Relax kid, you're one of the only two people with the clearance level to do this. Better enjoy the privilege."

"Really?"

"Yup."

A minute later, Peter's head came down on his shoulder again.

Good boy.

It was obvious that the kid was nodding off and so Tony turned down the volume. Eventually when the kid was asleep, Tony reached over and plucked one of the cushions and eased Peter into a sleeping position such that his head was pillowed in Tony's lap. He took the blanket and draped it securely over the sleeping form.

The boy didn't stir once. Tony didn't know how to describe that funny feeling in his chest when he looked down at his mentee. Deep down, he knew what it was but he was terrified to admit it out loud.

For now, he was simply content with making sure that the Spiderling got better soon. Finally giving in to the urge, Tony gently brushed Peter's curls off his forehead before lightly resting his hand on the teen's head. He was pleasantly surprised (and touched) when the boy unconsciously leaned into his hand.

All it took was one kind hearted from Queens to take down all of Tony's iron defences and wheedle his way straight into the man's heart. And there he would stay.

Tony's list of people he trusted was very short: Pepper, Rhodey, Happy and now Peter Parker. For some reason, this kid had latched on to him like he could do no wrong.

He wanted to be better for Peter: the boy who looked at him like he hung the moon.

That was certainly proof that Tony Stark has a heart.