Work Text:
Stephen’s head is aching, his body is sore, and his bedclothes are unpleasantly damp with sweat. He desperately wants a shower, but he’s too exhausted to move. This is the state he’s in when Tony bursts through his bedroom door, declares, “The store ran out of Easter eggs,” and shoves a carton at him.
“What are you talking about?”
“Look,” Tony says, “I know it was the fever talking, but you were really insistent that you needed Easter eggs. I was in fear for my life if I didn’t at least try.”
Stephen sighs. “Just… help me into the shower.”