[A smile graces his face at the sound of Peter laughing. Tony always considers it a win when he can get someone to laugh, even if it may be at his own expense. Having Morgan has softened him a lot, possibly in ways that Peter is still getting used to.
Humming as he hovers his hand several inches above Peter’s chest, he grunts when Friday whispers a diagnosis to him through his glasses.] Sounds like it. Personally, I’m surprised you managed to catch the flu, but maybe your abilities don’t extend to immunity to illness. Congrats, you’re still more man than spider.
[ He is still getting used to it but he likes it-it's a good look for Mr Stark. Though he feels little guilty for doping himself up on cough syrup-super gluing tattoos to the ceiling and of course being absolutely useless today because he's definitely too sick to do much more than complain about being sick. ]
Ugh. This is bullshit, Mr Stark. [ He whines, voice still squeaking at certain syllables. ] What's the point of having a super metabolism if I can still get sick?
Bullshit, huh? You kiss your aunt with that mouth? [Tony’s still smiling, of course, because he’s not exactly a paragon of clean language. There have been more than a few occasions when Morgan heard the wrong words at the wrong time, but he tries not to feel too guilty about it. Tries.
Tucking his arm back in at his side, he taps the metal-covered fingers against his thigh.] Well, metabolism doesn’t always equal immune system. You’re probably right about the medicine, though. If it keeps up, we’ll call Bruce. For now, I subscribe bedrest, orange juice, chicken soup, and a movie marathon.
Yeah, that’s what I’m saying. [ He smiles and pats Peter’s shoulder, touch light to compensate for the weight of the armor still wrapped around his hand. ] Look on the bright side, you can still use sick days like everyone else.
[ It’s probably a small consolation for a young man who just found out he isn’t entirely impervious to human weaknesses, but it’s the honest truth. Tony knows what it’s like to be knocked down a few pegs, and in the end it will make Peter feel that much more awesome when he builds himself back up. ]
Alright, looks like I’m retiring from the medical care sector and starting up a restaurant. Want to come eat downstairs on the couch, or are you comfy up here? I could bring in some of Morgan’s stuffed animals to keep you company. [ He smirks at that, imagining Peter whining from beneath a mountain of soft fluffy things. ]
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Humming as he hovers his hand several inches above Peter’s chest, he grunts when Friday whispers a diagnosis to him through his glasses.] Sounds like it. Personally, I’m surprised you managed to catch the flu, but maybe your abilities don’t extend to immunity to illness. Congrats, you’re still more man than spider.
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Ugh. This is bullshit, Mr Stark. [ He whines, voice still squeaking at certain syllables. ] What's the point of having a super metabolism if I can still get sick?
And I probably can't even take normal medicine!
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Tucking his arm back in at his side, he taps the metal-covered fingers against his thigh.] Well, metabolism doesn’t always equal immune system. You’re probably right about the medicine, though. If it keeps up, we’ll call Bruce. For now, I subscribe bedrest, orange juice, chicken soup, and a movie marathon.
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[ It isn't like May curses all the time, but on occasion-when she's really upset about something. Like walking in on her nephew in a Spider-suit. ]
So, what you're saying is that I can left like twenty tons but the flu can still knock me flat?
[ How is that even fair? He sniffle a little from the congestion and lets out a huffy sigh. ]
Yeah-yeah chicken soup especially sounds good.
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[ It’s probably a small consolation for a young man who just found out he isn’t entirely impervious to human weaknesses, but it’s the honest truth. Tony knows what it’s like to be knocked down a few pegs, and in the end it will make Peter feel that much more awesome when he builds himself back up. ]
Alright, looks like I’m retiring from the medical care sector and starting up a restaurant. Want to come eat downstairs on the couch, or are you comfy up here? I could bring in some of Morgan’s stuffed animals to keep you company. [ He smirks at that, imagining Peter whining from beneath a mountain of soft fluffy things. ]