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As soon as Steve had left the master bedroom, Tony sat up slowly and wrapped the heavy blankets around him. He suddenly felt tired, his muscles ached with every move he made and the painkillers had already seemed to lose their effects. The brunette rubbed his forehead and temples and wished for Steve to come back soon. Chocolate always made him feel better, though the effects chocolate brought him were nothing compared to scotch or any other alcoholic drink. Tony’s thoughts immediately wandered off to that warm feeling alcohol caused, the inability to feel small pains, that gorgeous feeling of being able to handle every-fucking-thing. Right that moment Steve walked back in, holding the chocolate. A small smile crept on Tony’s face, when he ate the first piece of the blissful, dark brown chocolate. ‘Feel better?’ Steve asked, after which Tony nodded. ‘Could you get me some scotch, too? Maybe it’ll help,’ the brunette wondered aloud. He then immediately frowned upon Steve’s reaction and Tony’s smile faded, as all the aches increased. He moaned irritated, why did Steve have to make such a big deal about everything? ‘Will you just shut up, get the damn scotch already and stop being an annoying little shi-‘ he snapped angrily, before getting cut off by his own tormented groan.

The sound of the door banging closed, hurt him very much. Not only did Tony realise what he’d done, which made him feel like a dick and scared him for various reasons, but the noise the door caused felt to be shattering his eardrum. When did he become oversensitive to clamour? And like that wasn’t enough torture, his stomach seemed to want more attention. Painful stings moved through his body, fast as lightning and probably as painful. He couldn’t see nor think clear and he wasn’t aware of his body trashing through the bed, kicking the sheets away and ripping – yep, seriously ripping – pillows apart. Then, suddenly, he stopped moving completely. Besides trembling and breathing heavily, he laid there in peace. Or so it seemed. Tony’s inside we’re burning, screaming for some sort of relief. Until the pain was too much to handle. Tony clamped his belly and the last thing he could say – more like groan – before his stomach clenched and threw his contents out, was the name of his beloved husband. 

Wade came back with a cup of soup. The smell spread through the room and Peter tried to sit up straight, but he failed due to the pain that went through his entire body. Wade seemed to have noticed his troubles and put down the cup, before helping Peter to sit up. He smiled thankfully at his aid. Wade sat down next to him and fed him a spoonful of soup. For some reason, it tasted dull, but he swallowed it anyway.
'Your dad may be coming over to pick you up, but he wasn't sure if that would be tonight or another day,' Wade said. 'So I can keep you to myself for just a little longer.'
Peter saw Wade was grinning and nodded. He loved spending time with Wade, but on the other hand it might be better for him to go home. The pain was getting worse and he didn't have the feeling that laying here with Wade would make things better. His stomach wasn't really happy with the hot soup. A moment ago, Peter thought he could keep it in, but now it was like the soup was boiling in his stomach and burning him down from inside. He wanted to ask Wade for a bowl or a bag, but just when he opened his mouth, he threw up all of the contents of his stomach on his clean clothes. His mouth tasted sour and downright disgusting, and he stared at what had been soup a minute ago. 'I'm sorry,' he whispered weakly.