A Slice Of Life, Death And Everything In-Between

Blueberries and Hot Chocolate

A/N: Hi ya'll, happy (late) Thanksgiving! 💖🥰 I hope everyone had a very safe and happy Turkey Day and are enjoying your leftover pie LMAO I thought I'd write some IronDad today since I'm still getting over a cold so here's some sick spider-baby and his lovingly annoyed IronDad LMFAOOOO I hope you all enjoy! 💙💚💙💚

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The first thing Peter notices when he blinks awake is how cold he is.

Not really freezing, just chilled, colder than he would have liked and missing the feeling of Tony's arms around him and the man's heartbeat in his ears. Sitting up slightly, Peter's blanket falls from around his shoulders, pooling on his lap and he reaches up, rubbing at his eyes with a fist. The cabin's quiet, the TV playing a Disney movie on low and vaguely the 15-year-old watches Rapunzel jump from her tower home, swinging on her long hair down to the bright grass below.

Sniffling, Peter shivers, manages to convince himself to move from the comfort of the sofa cushions, the carpet under his bare feet soft.

Shuffling around the coffee table, his red and gold blanket wrapped around his shoulders like a wrinkly cape, the spiderling finally ducks through the kitchen doorway just as Tony's turning the stove on low, a pot of what looks to be milk simmering.

"Hi, bubba." The genius practically coos, turning to look at Peter with a gaze so soft and sweet that the boy ducks his head, his cheeks heating. Leaning into Tony's arm across his shoulders, Peter glances from his own feet, toward the steaming pot. "You feeling okay?"

Clearing his throat, Peter nods. "Not too bad now. My, uh, throat's still a little itchy, though. What're you making?"

"Hmm." Humming, Tony carefully sets the spoon down along the top of the pan before turning back toward his kid, gently resting his palm along Peter's forehead and then down his neck, grinning at the way Peter half-heartedly ducks away from the tickling. "Hot chocolate. Mama's recipe and all that. You don't feel as warm. Did you sleep good, kiddo? You barely even noticed when I got up earlier, which is weird for you—"

"Yeah, I think I was just, like, super tired." Rubbing at the back of his neck, Peter swallows. "Pepper and Morgan are still at the store? I wonder how long that line is, jeez—"

Laughing again, Tony carefully shuffles to the side, pointing with the spoon toward the cabinets right above Peter's head. "Oh, no, no, buddy, they're back now. Went outside to do some sort of gardening? I dunno, Morgan was so excited about it, I had to tell her to stop yelling about blueberries so she wouldn't wake you up. Grab me two mugs, will you please?"

Doing as asked, Peter grabs both his own spidey-printed cup and Tony's Iron Man one, setting them on the counter as Tony grabs a bar of chocolate from the fridge, breaking a few pieces off. "You know, I think I did dream about blueberries now that you mention it—"

"Oh really?" Stirring the chocolate into the milk, Tony reaches over, brushing a stray curl away from Peter's forehead, his mechanical arm whirling. "It didn't go all Charlie and the Chocolate Factory on you right?"

"Naw, I think I was running away from them—there was a really big hill. I dunno, it was weird."

"She didn't wake you up though, right, bambino?" Glancing up, Tony studies his son's face, his own slightly pinched.

"Who? Morgan?" Peter shakes his head, hopping up onto the counter beside the billionaire, lightly tapping at the man's shin with his toes. "She didn't. I was so tired, I don't think even the Hulk smashing in here would've woken me up."

"I believe it, honestly. You were snoring, these like, little tiny baby kitten snores. It was adorable."

Groaning, Peter covers his face, feeling his cheeks heat in a raging blush. "Stop, Dad, that's so embarrassing."