Despite Tony being a good, intelligent student, he had one rather large shortcoming.
He was out sick a lot. His mother blamed it on his passing out in random areas (the floor on occasions, his makeshift lab bench more commonly) and of course, his not sleeping enough. Something about it hurting his immune system, he wasn't really sure – he'd stop paying attention after he realized her claimed solution was something he in no way wanted to do.
And that's why dozens of years later, he still slept in weird places and for short bursts of time. His immune system had gotten stronger at some point, and he didn't really fall sick all too often (maybe once a year, and never enough where enough medicine wouldn't be enough to get him going again). So, when he woke up one morning with a slight cough, he passed it off as his yearly mild sickness, got up and went downstairs to work.
He continued to work as the days progressed, downing enough water to put an Olympic athlete to shame as he attempted to soothe his raw throat. He knew Steve had noticed from the worried glances the man sent at him, but every time the soldier tried to ask about it Tony would brush him off, insisting it was nothing more than the change of weather.
It took about a week for the full effects to hit him, and damn did they hit. Steve had known something was wrong when Tony didn't come out for his morning cup of coffee – the man had been waking up relatively early lately to finish his project, and Steve knew for a fact that it wasn't done yet. Now it was almost one o'clock and Tony hadn't left the bedroom yet. He tried to squash the worry building up in his stomach as he made his way into their shared room, not bothering to knock before pushing the door open and peering inside.
Tony had squirmed over to the center of the bed, the sheets and comforters wrapped tightly around him like a cocoon. Steve could barely make out a mess of brunette hair and a hint of tan skin from a small opening near the top of the bundle, and approaching softly, he attempted to stick his hand into the small opening and feel at the skin.
It may not have been an effective way to determine health, but it still managed to tell Steve something was wrong with the man. Tony was burning up. His normally tan skin was flushed and uncomfortably warm to the touch, his nose was red and there was a significant amount of bags under his already tired looking eyes. Sighing, Steve carded his fingers through sweaty hair.
"I knew this would happen," he whispered, "when are you going to learn to take care of yourself, Tony?" Withdrawing his hand Steve made his way to the bathroom, gathering up a set of supplies he'd been stockpiling for the past week.
As much as Tony liked to say, he didn't exactly have the best poker face. He could, when he really thought about it, but Steve could typically read him like a book. It was, therefor, no surprise that Tony had been feeling sick for the past week or so. The man's cough had been getting progressively worse, sometimes momentarily waking him up when he was sleeping, and his already small appetite had been decreasing. Steve had tried asking him about it, but after being constantly waved off, he decided this was just something the genius would have to go through. Still, he was a good boyfriend, and he'd made sure to go to the store and gather up everything Tony would want when he was sick.
He smiled now as he grabbed everything out from one of the shelves; a new thermometer (because after searching through every single bathroom in the tower, he'd yet to find a single one), cherry cough syrup (because Tony was a baby and had previously voiced his refusal to take any sort of pills, and Steve had hoped that he was enough of a child to take the medicine so long as it was his favorite color) and a variety of other materials all made their way into the bedroom, spread out on the top of the dresser. He cast another quick look at his still-sleeping boyfriend before shaking his head and walking out, deciding a little extra sleep would probably serve to help.
When Tony woke up, he stared at the clock blankly. His throat hurt like a bitch and he could practically feel the sleep in his eyes. A cough bubbled its way to the surface and forced its way out before he could stop it, causing his body to spasm in pain. He peered over at the clock again, this time actually trying to make out the current time – maybe it was still early enough where he could go back to sleep?
He'd nearly jerked off the bed when he realized that it was nearly 2 in the afternoon, far later than he normally slept (and well past the normal time Steve would let him sleep to). He moved carefully, trying to drag his tired body so he could sit up on the bed, leaving the covers wrapped completely around him.
Within moments the bedroom door creaked open and Steve poked his head in. The blond smiled brightly at Tony, seemingly ignoring his grumpy disposition and the mound of blankets wrapped over his body and head, pushing the door open with his shoulder and making his way towards the bed.
He was carefully balancing a tray in one hand, using the other to steady himself as he bent over to place the tray on the bed. The scent of steaming hot chicken noodle soup assaulted Tony's nostrils, the scent strong enough so that he could smell it despite his nose being stuffy. A glass of orange juice and another of water sat alongside it, and Tony eagerly grabbed the water and downed it, desperate for relief from his painful throat.
Steve chuckled slightly before making his way toward the dresser and grabbing the container of cough medicine. His eyes scanned over the instructions quickly and his hands carefully removed the lid and the tiny attached measuring cup, pouring it the designated amount of red liquid. He moved back towards Tony, placing the tiny cup on the tray and looking down at him expectantly.
"Steve." Tony started, "I'm not a child. I'm fine, I don't need any medicine-"
"It's either this or pills, Tony, you're choice." Steve crossed his arms, looking down at the petulant man below him. His eyes didn't waver for a second, and eventually Tony let out an annoyed huff and picked the cup up, giving it a tentative sniff before shrugging his shoulders and downing it in one go.
He quickly slammed the cup down, coughing and sputtering in an attempt to get the foul taste out of his mouth. The little water he had left quickly chased down the medicine, though Tony could still taste the unpleasant syrup on his lips.
"What the hell was that supposed to be?" Tony asked, attempting to sound irritated despite his hoarse voice.
"Cherry." Steve answered, picking the cup up and walking to the bathroom to wash it out, before putting it back on top of the resealed medicine.
"Tasted like shit," Tony complained, leaning his head back and staring at the still steaming soup. His stomach did a flop at the thought of eating anything, but at least it would get the terrible taste out of his mouth once and for all. He picked up the spoon lying beside the bowl and scooped up a bit of the soup and noodles, blowing on it as well as he could before sucking it down. It burned a little going down, but tasted good and did effectively chase down the leftover taste of medicine. He continued blowing and sipping at the soup, easing it into his stomach and relishing the warmth that was spreading through his body.
When the bowl was finally empty he swallowed down the orange juice, a content smile coming over his face as he struggled to lie back down without releasing himself from his cocoon of blankets. Steve smiled, moving the tray off the bed and onto the dresser and carefully laid down beside the other, awkwardly wrapping his arms around the bundle of blankets that encased his boyfriend. He stroked along the man's back, soothing him until his coughing stopped and his breathing evened out.
"You really need to start taking better care of yourself, Tony," Steve chastised the sleeping man. As if aware Steve was talking to him, Tony grumbled slightly, shifting his weight so more of his face stuck out from the mound of covers. His lips parted and his tongue stuck out for a moment before apparently tasting some leftover medicine, causing his face to grimace and his tongue to quickly return to its hiding place. Steve bit back a laugh, desperate not to completely wake the man, wrapping his arms tighter and smoothing the covers on top of Tony's head.
The man did need to start taking better care of himself, but Steve knew deep down it would never happen. Tony was too damn prideful to admit he was capable of getting sick, and he was far too set in his ways to ever consider changing his habits in order to avoid the occasional bout of illness. Steve would just have to make sure he was around, then, and always able to take care of the other when they needed it. He smiled at the thought before joining his lover in slumber, shutting his eyes and using the soft whirl of the arc reactor and Tony's steady breathing to ease himself into sleep.
Hey guys! I just wanted to say thanks to everyone who has read, favorited, reviewed, or added this story (or myself!) to their alerts! It's only been ten days but so far you guys have been amazing! I'm actually currently a prompt ahead, which means as long as I stay on task there shouldn't be any skipped days (originally I was worried I was going to have to skip updating on Thanksgiving), which is fantastic. I should have enough prompts and ideas to get through the rest of this month, but again, if there's anything specific you want to see please let me know!