Chapter 12
Unsurprisingly, the Halloween decorations were still up.
Big, brown Trader Joe’s bags cluttered the kitchen table, which gave Stephen a mild sense of relief. Then again, Tony did love to get down and dirty with a cheap bottle of Cecelia Beretta prosecco. There was a good chance he had sent Pepper to get him four or five or eight bottles of the bubbly pink drink…with a few boxes of organic circus animal crackers for Peter.
Childish singing could be heard wafting down the stairs; Stephen recognized it from one of Peter’s shows, though he could not remember which one. They all had a way of sounding the same. As he toed off his shoes, a somewhat desperate Tony called out, “Stephen? Is that you?”
“Yeah!” Stephen called back, looping his scarf around the hall tree (right next to one of Peter’s adorable little bucket hats with a hippo on it). “You in the nursery?”
“My room, actually.”
Stephen smiled and shook his head. After such a stressful morning, it was unsurprising that Peter would want to remain as close to his caregiver as possible. He would want to feel safe; he would want to feel protected. He would want to know that if he closed his eyes, his father would be there to greet him upon his wake.
And, of course, Tony would be unable to deny his little duck the request.
“I’m comin’ up!” Stephen announced as he made his way up the narrow stairwell.
He then walked past the unused nursery and right into Tony’s room. A surprised laugh overtook him, and he threw a hand over his mouth.
“What?” Tony could not help a nervous laugh on his own. He was lying on his back with dozy Peter nestled beside him. The Little had a leg hooked over his daddy’s, one arm flopped over his head and the other arm holding an orca stuffy to his chest. A pacifier was bobbing steadily in his mouth. Stephen was a bit surprised to see that Peter was dressed in just a basic onesie. On closer inspection though, it did appear that his cheek and forehead were still slightly pinkish, meaning the fever had yet to ebb.
“Where’s his temperature at?” Stephen asked.
“Hanging out at ninety-nine-point-nine,” and Tony did not sound too happy about it. “Hey, little duck,” he then turned to the languid puddle that was Peter and kissed him on the cheek, “did you see who’s here?”
Peter’s eyes were open, but they seemed mostly focused on the television. Tony’s prompting though caused them to slowly slide over and lock on to Stephen’s.
“Stee-ben…?”
A tiny smile crept out from either side of the pacifier.
“Yeah, it’s me,” Stephen crossed the room and sat himself down beside Peter on the bed. “Feeling a little better now that we’re home?”
Peter nodded.
“Stee-ben…”
“Yes?”
Peter just continued to smile.
“He’s still a bit fussy,” Tony sighed, “I think he’s tired, but he will not nap.”
“No nap?” Stephen had not broken eye-contact with Peter. He shifted his adoring expression into one of surprise. Peter made a small gurgle and began tugging at the fins of his stuffed whale. “He does seem a bit more alert though.”
“Enough to watch some Bubble Guppies; huh buddy?” Tony leaned over and gave Peter’s thigh a tickle.
“Dah-dee…”
“Has he eaten?” Stephen asked.
“A little of everything Dr. Banner suggested. What he really wants the most is applesauce, but I was worried that might be too much sugar.”
“It can cause constipation too,” said Stephen, “gotta watch that stuff.”
“Huh, I didn’t know that,” Tony said before giving Stephen a big smile, “you know; it is just so nice and convenient to have a doctor for a boyfriend. Really, I don’t know why I didn’t do this sooner.”
“Uh-huh…,” Stephen raised a suspicious eyebrow.
“And since you are here and you’re so knowledgeable and helpful-”
“Just spit it out.”
Tony smiled sheepishly at his boyfriend.
“Peter won’t take his medicine.”
“What do you mean?”
“What do you mean what do I mean? He won’t take his medicine.” Tony sounded like the most obvious thing in the world. As if he were totally powerless over the feverish boy in a onesie.
“It’s just liquid Pseudoephedrine,” Stephen shrugged, “they probably gave him some at the hospital.”
“They did…and I was supposed to give him more about an hour ago…”
“So?”
“He gets upset with me,” Tony said with a pout, “and he rolls away, and he kicks…”
“You kick?” Stephen looked back to the Little in surprise.
“Baby bunny kicks,” Tony quickly amended. “I’m just really worried his fever’s going to come back if I don’t keep up with the schedule…”
It was hard to fault Tony for his lack of conviction around the medication. Peter had probably never been sick enough to warrant a trip to the emergency room. Up until that morning, the worst Tony ever had to contend with was a few seasonal sniffles. They kind of thing that that required nothing more than a warm bath, a little vapor rub on the chest and bedtime cuddles.
“I was hoping you could help me,” Tony said in a quiet voice, “Peter knows you’re a doctor; he trusts you.”
“Of course,” Stephen did not miss a beat, reaching over to give his boyfriend’s hand an assuring squeeze. “Go ahead and get the medicine. I’ll see what I can do.”
“You’re the best,” clear relief washed over Tony’s face, “thank you.”
While Tony was gone, Stephen decided to prepare Peter for the inevitable.
“Peter, you know you need to take your medicine to feel better, right?”
Peter shook his head dramatically from side to side then hid his face behind the orca stuffy.
“This is Doctor Stee-ben’s order,” Stephen crossed his arms, hoping that might get the seriousness of the situation across to his patient.
It did not.
“Stee-ben,” Peter happily cooed at him. He then let his pacifier slide out of his mouth so he could suck on the orca’s dorsal fin.
“When your daddy gets back, I am going to give you your medicine.”
Peter shook his head.
“Peter…”
“No!” The boy chirped.
“See what I mean?” Tony had re-entered the room; a brown bottle in one hand and a medicine syringe in the other. “He can’t be reasoned with.”
“I find it’s quite difficult to reason with anyone in a diaper…”
Tony shrugged.
“That’s fair.”
Together the men discussed the best plan of action. Since Peter liked to wiggle and squirm (and possibly kick), Tony thought it would be best that he hold the boy in his lap while Stephen fed him the medicine.
“Interesting how you have positioned him with his legs facing me,” Stephen deadpanned as Tony got the boy settled.
“Again, bunny kicks. I promise, they don’t hurt.”
“Deh-dee,” Peter did not seem the least bit alarmed that the offending medicine had returned. Why would he? He made it clear to daddy that he did not want the yucky orange goop! And daddy always listened to him.
Stephen pulled the medicine into the syringe and held it up for Peter to observe.
“Now, you are going to take 30 milligrams of this every four hours; understood?”
“No,” Peter smiled at him.
That chubby-cheeked smile…
Stay strong, you can do this. It’s what’s best!
“Peter, say ‘AHHHH’,” Stephen demonstrated for him.
Peter sucked in his lips and shook his head.
“This is going about as well as I expected…,” Tony muttered to himself.
“I know you don’t want to get sicker and have to go see Dr. Banner at the scary old hospital, right?” Stephen held up the syringe again, “Come on, open up.”
“Please,” Tony placed a kiss on the crown of the boy’s head, “just let Doctor Stephen give you your medicine…”
Stephen could not believe he was stuck in such a ridiculous stand-off. Yes, Peter was the most precious Little in the world and, yes, he had just gone through the horrible ordeal of being admitted to the hospital. But he needed to take his medication. It simply was not up for debate.
That was when the cold, prickling realization that Peter was not his Little came creeping down Stephen’s spine. The situation was as delicate as the arachnoid membrane; Tony was asking for help, Peter needed to take the Pseudoephedrine…but he could not demand too much of either of them, less he break the tiny threads that held their relationship together.
“Are you comfortable opening his mouth for him?” Stephen asked tentatively.
“Like…force him to take it?” Just speaking the words seem to leave Tony shaken.
“Try to keep in mind that this is for his own good,” Stephen said quickly, “I know, it sounds cruel. But letting him just get sick all over again is not a better option. If his cold doesn’t improve, it could turn into a sinus infection or pneumonia-”
“Okay, okay, okay,” Tony said quickly and sighed. Defeat was once more spreading across his face.
Pull back, take it easy…
“I’m not trying to scare you, just trying to be honest,” Stephen attempted to tamp down the sterile doctor tone of his voice, “if it makes you feel better, you can blame it all on me; I can be the bad guy. Trust me, I’m used to it.”
“No…he needs to know that his daddy wants him to take his medicine too. I don’t want us to always be playing good cop, bad cop…”
Stephen paused; an immense need to unpack that statement took over him. The word always rang out like a siren in his ear. There was also a mention of defined roles, how they would handle Little care…always…
“Stephen?”
“Hm?”
Tony was smiling at him as a bored Peter slouched down in his arms.
“Dah-dee…no…”
“There are other options,” Stephen said, “what’s your stance on bribery?”
“Is that a good tactic?” Tony was clearly not keen on the idea. In private conversations, he had brought up concerns about Peter being a bit spoiled. Peter was, after all, the only Little of a wealthy man who adored him from the top of his curly-haired head to his adorable, wiggly toes…and the boy seemed to know it. Too often Tony found himself giving in to the mildest tantrum or letting the advice of Peter’s teachers and fellow caregivers slide because, well, would one more bowl of ice cream or staying up an extra hour really do that much harm?
“I’m not a caregiver,” Stephen began, “so, really, it’s up to you.”
“No,” Tony shook his head, “no, I want Peter to understand that it’s important to listen to doctors and to take medicine when he’s sick. Otherwise, this’ll just be a problem every time…What do you think?”
“I think you’re right,” Stephen smiled.
Tony smiled back.
Peter made an unhappy grunt.
“Peter,” once more, Stephen held up the syringe, “look at me.”
Begrudgingly, Peter did so.
“You know I’m a doctor, right? And you know your daddy loves you very, very much and would never do anything to hurt you. So, me and your daddy need you to be a good boy and take your medicine.” Slowly, Stephen moved the syringe toward the boy, adding a firm, “Enough of this. Take your medicine.”
“It’ll help you feel better,” Tony added with a kiss on the boy’s cheek.
Whether or not it was because he agreed with his caregivers or because Peter was finally tired of fighting, no one knew for sure. All Stephen knew was that Peter’s resolution lapsed and his mouth opened just enough that…
“In it goes!”
Stephen pushed down the level and watched broken-heartedly as Peter grimaced.
“Oh, such a good boy!” Tony was quick to praise his boy and cover his face with kisses. “Such a good baby, daddy is so proud of you!”
“Yes, he is,” Stephen added, “we’re both very proud of you, Peter.”
Peter continued to look disgusted, his tongue darting in and out of his mouth in a misguided attempt to rid his mouth of the medicine-y taste.
Later, Tony brought up some sliced bananas and toast (both with a touch of peanut butter). Stephen eyed the meal warily but said nothing.
Whereas applesauce had the tendency to cause constipation, Peter’s small dinner had the opposite effect and soon he was whimpering for a diaper change.
“Yes, let’s get you cleaned up and down for the night,” Tony cooed as he lifted the boy from the bed, “maybe Stee-ben will read you another story.”
A story was not needed though. After a warm bath with his lavender soap, Peter was completely passed out.
“I think I should keep him here with me in the bed, just in case,” Tony looked to Stephen for a second opinion.
“Until his fever stays under one hundred for a consecutive eight hours, that would be my recommendation.”
Peter made a sudden snuffling snort around his pacifier, drawing the attention of the two men. Together they waited as Peter’s odd noises stilled and the boy tightened his grip around his orca.
“Dah…dee…”
“I should let you two get some rest,” Stephen placed a chaste kiss on Tony’s lips; far more chaste than what he wanted. “It’s been a long day.”
“Thank you,” Tony whispered, “for everything. I don’t know how I would have gotten through today without you.”
“I still should have been there,” Stephen shook his head, “when you texted, I should have-”
“It’s okay, really,” it was now Tony’s turn to lean in close and place his lips on Stephen’s; choosing to be a tad more forceful and flicking his tongue across the slight opening of the doctor’s mouth.
“What was that?” Stephen asked as they parted.
“Just wanted to make sure you knew I wasn’t mad at you.”
“Message received…”
“Dah-dee…?” Peter whimpered again.
“I should go,” Stephen began to pull away. “Call me tomorrow morning and let me know how he’s doing, okay?”
“Yes, Doctor Strange.”
Stephen smiled.
“Call me Doctor Stee-ben.”