Tom Holland/Peter Parker Sickfics

~ All In This Together ~

Summary: With most of the Avengers sick with the stomach flu, Peter makes everyone watch High School Musical.

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"Ugh, I feel worse than the time I rode the Cyclone rollercoaster with Bucky." Steve whined, curling his knees up to him chest as his stomach churned. He was barely clothed, wearing a pair of boxers and a tank top, but that didn't stop the sweats.

"It just feels like a bad hangover, except the thought of a greasy brunch makes me feel nauseous." Tony said, wishing he just had a hangover and not the stomach flu. Natasha gagged with her fist to her mouth.

"P-Please don't talk about brunch, or grease or anything!" Nat pleaded, she rarely got sick and was hating the way she felt. She had a massive grey blanket wrapped around her with a hot water bottle against her stomach.

"And how come you didn't get sick, it's so not fair!" Nat whined, giving her best bud Clint a death stare.

"I'm a father to three kids, I'm immune." Clint claimed, he had dealt with sickness too many times to count. He placed a tray of beverages on the coffee table, herbal tea for Natasha, ginger ale for Tony, and some tepid sink water for Steve. They all had different tastes when it came to recovery.

Clint looked at his watch to check the time.

"Bruce should be back with your medicine soon." He announced, the three heroes all groaned in unison.

"Don't even start with me, you need it." Clint said, putting on his serious Dad voice.

"I'm still figuring out the likelihood that Steve and Nat got sick at the exact same time." Tony said as he rubbed a hand over his forehead, despite his pounding headache he needed to know. It felt oddly suspicious to him.

"Just a coincidence, it's not like we've been fondue-ing!" Steve said, trying to defend himself. But again Nat just gagged.

"Shut the fuck up unless you wanna see last night's dinner!" Nat warned, debating whether or not she needed to throw up, staring at the bucket on standby.

"Knock it off, otherwise I'm taking away the remote!" Clint warned, everyone suddenly went quiet. It was too quiet. Clint scanned the couches, Steve and Tony were curled up together on one side and Nat was solo on the other, but right next to her was a small dent in the cushion that appeared to be shaped just like Peter's ass. But he wasn't there.

"Is Peter still in the bathroom?" Clint asked the heroes, the last he heard Peter had gone to the bathroom to vomit but hadn't heard from him since. They all nodded.

"Maybe he fell asleep?" Tony said.

"Maybe it's both ends?" Steve said, that thought grossed everyone out.

"I'll go check on him." Clint volunteered, heading to the bedrooms.

Peter felt awful, he had been throwing up on and off for an hour, his stomach ached and he was incredibly tired. He flushed the toilet before sliding down the side of the bathtub where he was leaning against, he had run out of strength. He curled up into a ball and shivered against the cool tiles.

"Honey, I'm home." He heard Clint say as he knocked on the bathroom door.

"Don't come in." Peter whimpered, crawling back to the toilet, he had to throw up again. He lifted up the lid and lowered his head down, starting to retch.

Clint just opened the door, saw the sick spider child on the floor and knelt down next to him.

"Aww Buddy." Clint sighed sympathetically, starting to rub Peter's back as he threw up again. Peter hated it, every second. But Clint was a professional back rubber, he had done this with all his children at some point.