I5
Becoming unusually clumsy and fumbling simple tasks.
Peter was late, and that was concerning. Of all the people Tony had worked with, superpowers or no, he was by far the most punctual. In fact, despite thoroughly wracking his brain while he waited a few extra minutes, he couldn't come up with one time he'd ever been late to anything scheduled.
A few extra minutes turned into ten minutes turned into half an hour before he gave up on his intern showing up. Kid probably just forgot, but to be safe he dialed his aunt's number to check in.
It went straight to voicemail. Worry bloomed in his chest, not that he'd ever admit it. Probably he'd hear back and find out he was just napping or finally got a date. He wasn't willing to risk Peter's life on that assumption, though, so he shut down his personal office for the day and headed for an apartment in Queens.
May answered the door after two knocks. Peter was directly in sight from the doorway, strewn across the couch and seeming at one with the cushions. For a moment, he let himself believe the kid just forgot for once and got sucked into a TV show or something. That was shattered when he shoved himself off the couch, tumbled into the floor, and attempted a mad dash that was more of a series of stumbles out of the room without any acknowledgement of Tony and May at the front door. He heard harsh retching a moment later and winced in sympathy, no doubts left as to why he never showed up at the tower.
The wincing faded away and was replaced with outright concern when the episode dragged on seemingly forever. His aunt didn't make a move to join him. She must have seen Tony's worry because she jumped into some kind of Mother Mode where she was overly soft-voiced and gentle, only it wasn't toward Peter. It was aimed at him.
"Don't worry about it," she soothed. "It's just a bug. He bounces back from these easy peasy."
"Should he be alone like that, though?" It was bizarre to hear concern in his own voice without being in a life-or-death hostage situation. He didn't want to call the feeling parental, but god dammit, it was.
"Oh, yeah, no worries. Pete'll let me know if he needs anything. I lucked into getting the easiest sick kid ever. Guess you did too now." She stepped back as if to invite him in while he was still reeling from the implication. He took the offer, following her to wait on the far end of the couch, only slightly encroaching on the kid's impressive nest of blankets and decorative pillows. Eventually, the painful-sounding heaving tapered off and Peter shuffled his way back to the couch, looking more worn out and shaky than he did after any of his training missions. He jumped when he looked up.
"Mr. Stark! What are you doing here?"
"What, I can't visit my favorite intern?" he joked with a pause. "You never showed. I was just making sure you weren't dead in a ditch."
He patted the space on the couch next to him. Did the kid even want him to be here? Years of practice made it second nature to keep the indecision out of his expression but it remained planted firmly in his thoughts.
Instead of laying back down like earlier, Peter shifted closer until his head was almost in his lap. Tony tensed in surprise—though what did he expect? Peter was the most touchy-feely person—but it didn't last long when he saw how much more comfortable he seemed. He could get used to this… for Peter, anyway.
May settled in last and received the great honor of having her thighs used as a prop for two smelly teenage boy feet. To Tony, it was a sign of how close the two really were that she didn't think twice about it. He didn't know if he could be that selflessly strong if their positions were reversed.
Tony didn't make a move to leave, and neither of the Parkers asked him to. He used it as a chance to see what Spider-Man was like when he wasn't Spider-Man, realizing he really didn't know the boy behind the mask very well at all.
The Hallmark movie was doing a much better job of holding May's attention than Peter's. She was enraptured while Peter was alternating between actually paying attention to the overly cheesy plot and letting his eyes scan over the rest of the living room, mostly lingering on a section of the wall full of photos of the two Parkers and a man Tony had never seen and the bit of skyline outside the only window.
He dozed through the climax, and that was such an accurate representation of Tony's opinion of the movie that he couldn't hold back a chuckle that turned both Parkers' heads, one stare much sleepier and less amused than the other. Not wanting to bash something the hot aunt liked, he never did explain himself.
The movie was almost over when Peter reached out for the glass of water previously left untouched and sent it hurtling to the floor with a louder smash than he'd expect from such a thin glass. The kid's first instinct was to apologize to his aunt, but all three of them knew he was too weak to do anything about it. Tony jumped at the chance to stop paying attention to the frankly awful movie and shifted Peter just enough to get off the couch, crouch down, and start collecting shards of glass from the wooden floor.
By the time he was finished tossing the glass into the kitchen trash, Peter was strewn out, sound asleep again. There was no way to rejoin the fray without moving him, and something in his heart clenched at that prospect, so he said his hushed goodnights with the feeling that he almost knew his intern now.