Domestic
A/N: I actually had another, much whump-ier chapter that I was working on before this; but after seeing some base images while drawing the other day, I needed to write this instead XD
Peter was not having a good day. He was quite possibly experiencing the worst day in the history of ever.
He had gone to bed late the previous night, which was totally his own fault; but he had been expecting to get three hours of sleep... not four. The building's power had gone out sometime after he fell asleep, resetting his and May's alarm clocks so they were both late for school and work. Of course traffic was horrible and the subways crowded, so he missed his first train and had to wait for the next. When he did finally arrive to school, it was in the middle of his third class and the teacher was very unimpressed with him...
He obviously got detention, and Flash absolutely loved that... And while Peter had slowly been standing up for himself against the bully thanks to his dad's coaching, he was in no mood to deal with Flash during lunch. So Peter skipped lunch, just like he did with breakfast, and instead focused on studying for an upcoming quiz. He would probably regret that later, but he currently couldn't care since it was keeping him away from confrontation. Having the confidence he normally did as Spider-Man would have been amazing, honestly... But he was too tired to even attempt such a thing.
He got onto the bad side of three other teachers by nearly falling asleep or zoning out during their lesson, which didn't help him get a confidence boost at all... By the time he got to detention, his stomach was screaming at him for food. He couldn't run to Delmar's fast enough once he was free of that prison...
Except he forgot his wallet at the apartment and there was a new worker there while Mr. Delmar was out sick, and the worker apparently didn't like something about Peter and refused to put the sandwich on his tab...
Peter was already nauseous from lack of food, but he left the store to put his suit on anyway.
An hour into his patrolling, Peter felt like he had made some serious mistakes in life - especially when his vision started going out while he was swinging across the city.
"Karen, I-I think something's wrong...!" Blinking furiously, Peter gained his vision back just in time to shoot another web and dodge a collision with a skyscraper. He swung to the roof of the building, staggering forward until he fell to his knees.
"What's wrong, Peter?" The AI asked, "Your vitals are... slightly unnatural. Should I call for help?"
"N-no... No, just... I don't know..." Peter held himself up with his hands, staring at the ground as his vision danced in and out of focus. "Don't call anyone, just give me a minute."
"Understood."
He tugged off his mask hoping to have some relief, but it didn't help. If anything, without the protection from the mask, he felt even worse. His eyes closed tightly against the sun's brightness, his body feeling unnaturally heavy and slowly pulling him to lay flat against the roof.
Giving in, Peter curled into a ball on the hard surface; feeling slightly better once he was no longer fighting with gravity. But his stomach was still in knots, keeping a constant nausea threatening to bring up what little sustenance he had.
He wasn't sure how long he stayed there, curled up and trying not to die, but he noticed that the sun was starting to set and that he wouldn't be able to stay there any longer... With a heavy sigh, he pushed himself up, his arms shaking dangerously as he tried to get to his feet. His vision blurred and head pounded, but if he concentrated hard enough then he'd be able to travel a little further.
"K-Karen," He started once he had his mask back on, "find the fastest way to Loki's house..."
A map appeared in front of him, a red line weaving around the streets showing him where to go. Taking a deep breath, Peter took a running (fast walking) start off the edge of the building and swinging as best he could down the street.
He figured that he would be able to rest for a while at the house, possibly getting some medicine and food to help out his very weak body. The silence would be nice as well, no cars blaring to worsen his headache; because while Loki owned the house, he didn't live in it. If anything, the man had bought it solely for the purpose of if Peter needed it while on patrol. It was constantly being restocked with food and medicine, there was even a maid that came to clean and change the beds in case one of them needed to crash there for a night or two. Peter couldn't have been more grateful for it in that moment.
Seeing the pale brinks coming into sight, Peter almost let out a sigh of relief as he swung around a back alley. Instead of a sigh though, a groan escaped him as he misjudged his webbing and swung right into the wall. Peeling himself back, Peter climbed up to an unlocked window on the top floor and crawled in.
He unceremoniously dumped himself onto the floor, taking a moment to catch his breath and stare up at the ceiling. Was he still moving? Or was the ceiling moving on its own? He really couldn't tell anymore, all he wanted now was to end the nausea raging inside of him.
His senses went on high alert as he heard footsteps in the hall, forcing himself to sit up and prepare for whoever was coming down the hall. No one should be here, so it had to be a burglar or someone equally bad-
"Peter?" A familiar voice called, the door to the room opening to reveal Loki with eyes narrowed and a single eyebrow raised in question. "Why are you on the floor?"
It was quiet as they stared at each other for a minute, though Peter's mind finally caught up with the fact that he wasn't in danger. He let out a sigh as he flopped back on his back, pulling his mask off.
"It's just you..."
"Should I be offended by that?" Loki crossed his arms, but there was no hostility in him as he took a step into the room and quickly scanned over the boy's body. "You didn't answer me as to why you're on the floor though... Are you injured?"
Peter didn't answer for a while, Loki nearly ready to call Stark for a med-bay, but then he gave what looked like a shrug. "I-I don't know... I don't feel so good... Everything's spinning and I think I'm going to throw up but I also can't move too well... I don't know what's happening..."
Loki frowned, kneeling down next to his son and placing a cool hand on his forehead, "Your temperature is normal... How long have you been feeling like this?"
"After lunch..." Peter's mouth opened like he was going to say something else, but he hesitated for a second before sighing, "I didn't eat though, and I thought that's what it was at first... But it doesn't explain everything else that's happening."
Loki's eyes narrowed, pulling his hand back from Peter's forehead. "Peter, when was the last time you ate?"
The boy didn't dare meet his dad's eyes as he stayed silent, knowing better than to answer such a question after what happened when he skipped just one meal.
"Peter..."
He swallowed thickly, "Pizza yesterday with May."
Loki drew in a breath, his head tilting slightly as he closed his eyes. "Yesterday? You haven't eaten since yesterday?" Standing up sharply, Loki lifted Peter and began marching them both down to the kitchen, "No wonder you're sick! You have a high metabolism, you can't afford to skip meals!"
Peter somewhat blocked Loki out once they started down the stairs, concentrating more on not throwing up all over his dad's suit- No... Loki was wearing a T-shirt. Loki never wears T-shirts.
"You're... not in a suit?" Peter asked, completely fascinated by the dark green and incredibly soft fabric - too lost in his own thoughts to realize he cut Loki off mid-rant. A deep and slow breath reminded him of the trouble he was in, however, and Peter promptly closed his eyes and pretended to be in more pain than what he was.
"No, I am not in a suit today. I was not expecting company, especially not a sick child."
Peter gave a small chuckle just as Loki put him down on a stool at the kitchen's island; he slumped over at first, but pushed himself up just enough to watch Loki go digging through the pantry.
It was at this point that Peter also took note of the fact that Loki was wearing jeans. Loki was in the most casual of casual clothes and he still managed to look good... Peter felt a small pang of jealousy; why couldn't he get those genes from the man?
Loki turned around just then, placing two nutrition bars on the counter in front of Peter with a simple command. "Eat." He didn't wait for Peter to reply before he left to start rifling through the fridge.
Peter unwrapped the first bar slowly, watching Loki with growing curiosity as the man took the egg carton and various vegetables out and placed them near the stove. His curiosity grew when Loki took down a pan and turned the stove on, surely he wasn't going to- Was he? He was. Could Loki even cook?
"I didn't know you could cook..."
Loki glanced back at him, frowning at the half opened and uneaten bar still in Peter's hands. "It's one of my charms; now eat before I make something you don't like."
Peter pouted as he shoved the chocolate nutrition bar in his mouth, slouching more onto the counter. He might feel like he had no energy and his body had weights connected to it, but he still wanted to talk...
Watching Loki move around the kitchen was very interesting though... This alien god that Peter had only ever seen in a suit or Asgardian clothes was standing before him in a T-shirt and jeans, barefoot, and cooking with near professional precision. It somewhat reminded him of when May made sandwiches for lunch on her days off. It was just so... domestic.
A chuckle escaped him as he looked down, smiling at the thought of the God of Mischief being domesticated. In a way it was true, but it still just seemed so surreal.
Loki must have heard him, the man turning around with the frying pan in hand. An eyebrow was raised at him, eyes half lidded, and an unamused frown completing the most perfect deadpan look anyone could have. "What are you snickering at?"
Peter waved a hand dismissively, "Nothing. I'm just not used to seeing you like this."
The brow arched higher. "Like what?"
"This," He gestured towards him, "You know, domestic."
It was silent between them for a while, both of them just staring at each other. Finally, Loki turned back to the stove, reaching a hand for the spice rack behind the stove. "Just for that, I'm emptying the hot sauce bottle in your omelette."
"No!" Peter laughed, sitting up straighter and reaching a hand out like he could magically stop him. "I'm sorry, I was joking...! I'm sorry!"
Loki glanced back at him, taking in the boy's grin and how happy he seemed (if not slightly worried) and he couldn't help the small smile that threatened to grow on his own face.
Because Peter was right. Loki felt very domestic right that moment, cooking an omelette for his sick son in a human house that he owned while wearing these unflattering but comfortable clothes.
Maybe being domestic wasn't so bad...
A/N: Quick explanation for Peter calling Loki by his name! In both the scenarios of Peter and Loki meeting, Peter grew up without Loki being around. So he doesn't really feel comfortable calling Loki 'dad' just yet. Because while this is a oneshot book, I like to think that some of these chapters will be connected. So for now, Loki's title of 'dad' will be privileged only to Peter's mind. But don't worry, the chapter for the spoken title will come! I have it planned out already XD I just want them to have a little more bonding before that happens ;)
Just to be clear, Peter's sickness is based off my own experience. I have a pretty high metabolism; I can sit around all day and drop a pound or two if I'm not careful. If I skip breakfast and lunch, my body can't decide whether it wants to pass out or throw up. I've gotten much better at taking care of myself (after blacking out for a few seconds in front of a really cute guy) but it's still a pain to deal with.
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