Alpha Tony, Omega Peter sickfic ‘Howard buys Tony an Omega Part 3’
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You don’t need to have read those to understand this lil fic :) x
Tony wakes up slowly, to sharp pain in his throat and an inability to breathe through his nose.
He groans when he realises he’s sick.
That’s great, that’s just what he needs. First week home for summer from college, and he’s contracted some delayed flu-virus that makes swallowing feel like his throat’s swollen to a degree that should make breathing completely impossible.
He goes to sit up when something brilliantly ice-cold presses against his forehead and he sinks back into the pillows with a moan of relief. He opens his eyes to see Peter, of course, his little angel, with a gentle smile, holding the icy wet flannel over his Alpha’s forehead. “Don’t get up, Alpha,” Peter says gently, “you’re sick.”
Tony sighs. “I think you’re right,” he manages, his throat convulsing painfully with every word. “God, Peter can I have something to dri-“
There’s fine china gently nudging at his lips and he would roll his eyes if he didn’t think it would make him dizzy, and he holds his head as steady as he can as Peter tips the cup. It’s tea, Tony thinks, with an unusual taste and it soothes momentarily as it goes down- just a little too hot, which makes him feel like the germs in his throat are getting a good kicking. “It’s ginger and leaf tea,” Peter informs him, pulling the cup away once Tony’s drained half of it, and picking up a napkin to dab at his mouth.
Tony pulls away from the pampering, struggling to piece it all together. How does Peter have everything all ready?- how did he- he sits up, the icy flannel slipping down his face while Peter’s dainty hands fret to push him back down, but Tony doesn’t stop until he’s propped up by the headboard and he can see his room.
The windows are all open, and the warm summer sunshine seeps in through the early morning. There’s- he blinks, there’s medicine and nasal drops and lozenges and fresh sheets all folded on his desk. And on the bedside table- there’s tea and soup and sparsely buttered toast- little warm bread rolls too, tucked into the side and almost bursting with meat filling. “Did you- baby, when did you get this all ready?” Every word hurts to choke out.
Peter shushes him. “I woke up a few hours ago,” he admits, “you were really hot, and I knew you were gunna be sick and I wanted to be ready.” Peter winks at him cheekily, “be a good little Alpha and lemmie take care of you.”
Tony swats at him but misses by a mile.
Peter coos at him delightedly, before lifting up the tea. “Drink.” He insists lovingly, and Tony does.
Omegas are made to care, and it’s clear Peter’s in his element. Luckily, Omegas can’t catch the same viruses as Alphas, so Peter’s happy enough to come in and out of his room, and snuggle right up to him, while Howard calls good morning from the safety of the hallway. Tony drifts in and out of deep sleeps, but every time he wakes up, be it dark outside, or the heat of the afternoon, Peter is there with some new delicacy, and there’s a freshly cut bouquet of flowers on his desk (he’ll find out, when he’s better, that Peter would roam the Stark gardens picking out flowers he thought were even a hundredth as beautiful as Tony).
He wakes up and it’s pitch black outside, but the lamp in his bedroom is on and casts a warm golden glow over them. He snuffles a little, and sees Peter put down his book and smile, carding his finger’s through Tony’s hair. He leans into the caress. “I made you some warm, nutmeg cookies,” he murmurs, and Tony’s mouth waters, “you can’t have chocolate, but these are sweet and yummy, just like you.”
Tony feels lips kiss his cheek, and then in a haze of wonderment he’s fed bitesize pieces of cookie that melts on his tongue- flavours like chestnut and oak bursting across his mouth, and he notices with some small relief that it hurts to swallow just a little bit less.
After the cookies, Peter gives him a spoonful of medicine that’s sharp like lemons but it numbs him, and then through muffled ears, he hears his boy reading to him.
Old Omega fairytales, about omegas lost in the woods, tempted by evil, only to be saved by an Alpha. Of Alpha’s crooning to fair omegas trapped in towers- he dreams of spires and dense forests and Peter in a crown.
Everything aches, and he feels remarkably feeble considering he’s been lying in bed and sleeping for the past three days, as he shuffles to the bathroom. Peter keeps licking his neck apologetically, calling him big and strong and brave and it should be patronising, but it’s not. It’s just lovely. He feels like he’s in a nice warm embrace.
There’s already a hot bath run for him. The water is pink and Peter’s obviously put something in it. It smells like strawberries.
As his omega helps him strip, he manages to give him a little wink and Peter nuzzles him and says coyly: When you’re better.
He’s left alone for a while, to sink into the bliss of the liquid. It soothes him, and he’s almost back to sleep when Peter comes back, deliciously naked though Tony realises sadly that he can’t even get an erection in this state-
The boy climbs into the bath with him, and bathes his Alpha.
His hands are like magic, they work into every muscle, they run through his hair, tangling and untangling in tantalising strokes. The steam helps him breathe better, and Peter rinses him off, doing all of the work, before towelling him dry. Peter looks in his element like this, his face happy and pleased at getting to care for his alpha, at helping him get better.
It’s the same look that Peter gets whenever Tony comes top of the class, or punches another Alpha in the face for murmuring suggestive things to his boy. It’s pleased, and proud, and completely in love.
When he gets back to his bedroom, the sheets have been changed, and they’re crisp and cool underneath him. Peter snuggles up to him and feeds him sourdough and chicken soaked in gravy, and then steamed carrots all with his dainty little fingers, and Tony hopes his boy knows how much he loves him. He loves him so much and-
“I know, Alpha,” Peter giggles, a little shy, as he lifts some fruit cake he make to Tony’s lips.
Ah, he’s been talking out loud.
He sucks on a lozenge and falls asleep, and knows that whatever happens, Peter will be right there beside him when he wakes up.
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