A/N: Hey guys! This is going to be a little mini-series, filled to the brim with fluff, whump, and good ol' hurt/comfort-y stuff along the way. Each one, as described, will have Peter sick, stressed, etc. I hope y'all enjoy! I'll be publishing sporadically. (Also, your feedback is really important to me, so please review or leave a story prompt below!) :)

And now, on to the sickfic….

Chicken Soup

Peter clutched the smooth porcelain sink with trembling hands. He gazed up at his pitiful reflection in the mirror. Why did he have to get sick now? He had just finished hurling out all contents of his stomach, retching until all that was left in him were a few weak, dry heaves. This was horrible, this whole thing was a nightmare. He was supposed to be spending the day with Tony at the Avengers Tower, training and improving his suit's capabilities. Instead, halfway through installing new web shooters, he had dashed out of Tony's lab with a muttered "bathroom" and puked.

Now he was shaking like a leaf and praying to the Lord almighty that Tony wouldn't notice a thing. He turned on the tap and sipped a little water to rid the foul taste in his mouth, then ducked down, splashing his face. It felt like heaven—cool, refreshing. He patted his face dry with one of the fluffy towels, then looked up.

Tony was behind him.

Peter cursed softly under his breath and spun around slowly, plastering a nervous smile over his face. "Hey, Mr. Stark. How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough to know that you've got a grade-A fever."

Peter stepped back against the sink in an attempt to dodge the hand being pressed against his forehead, but to no avail. Tony raised his eyebrows at the heat radiating off it.

"Wow. How long have you been hiding this?"

"I honestly didn't know, Mr. Stark, I swear." Peter replied. He couldn't blame Tony for asking, the kid did have a record for pushing himself too far. However, Tony seemed to sense that he was telling the truth this time and sighed, pulling his sleek phone out of his pocket.

"Alright, champ, let's get you home," he said, the pad of his thumb scrolling through his contacts. "Now where's your Aunt's number?...Ah, here it is-"

"Don't bother calling," Peter mumbled. "She isn't home."

"Really? Where is she?" Tony asked, brow furrowed.

"Business trip."

"Well then, I guess that means you're staying with us for a while."

"What?" Peter looked up in alarm. "No, you don't have to do that, I'll go home-"

"There is no way on earth I'm letting your sorry ass stay home alone with that fever," Tony replied, raising an eyebrow. "Kapeesh?"

Peter sighed in defeat. "Okay."

"Good. Come on, let's get you situated." Tony wrapped an arm around Peter's thin shoulders and led him to the living room. He sat him on the couch, then started rifling through the kitchen cupboards.

"Hey kid, do you like soup?" He called over his shoulder, pulling down a few cans.

"Mr. Stark, you really don't have to-"

"Your job," Tony interrupted, spinning around and pointing a spoon at Peter, "Is to sit there and be sick, okay?" Peter nodded helplessly. "Okay. Now do you want chicken noodle or beef?"

"Chicken." Peter muttered.

A few minutes later Tony plopped down on the couch next to Peter and handed him a steaming bowl. Peter thanked him and watched as Tony flicked through Netflix absentmindedly, finally settling on The Office. Peter dipped his spoon into the bowl and brought it to his mouth, relishing how good the noodles and carrots tasted. Soup didn't usually taste this delicious, right? He ate another spoonful, and another, grinning inwardly when he caught Tony watching him out of the corner of his eye, smiling. They stayed like that for the rest of the afternoon, laughing at Jim and Dwight, until Peter felt his eyelids grow heavy.

Tony slipped the near-empty bowl of soup from Peter's hands as the kid drifted off, his head leaning to rest on the older man's shoulder. Tony smiled. Peter was stubborn, that was for sure, but he was also the sweetest, smartest kid you'd meet. He ran his fingers through the Spidey-kid's hair affectionately.

All it took was a little chicken soup.

A/N: Ahh! You guys! I love writing their father/son relationship. As always, thank you guys so very much for reading. I'm also in dire need for some prompts to continue this lil' series, so if you guys have any ideas, feel free to PM me or leave a review below. That's all for now, and I'll see you guys again next week! :)