Tom Holland/Peter Parker Sickfics

~ Bueller? ~

"Aww sorry to hear that, Bud. Do you think you'll feel better in time for today's shoot?" Jon asked.

"N-No, I'm sorry. I *cough cough* feel very poorly, my doctor advised me to rest." Tom replied.

"They know best; try and rest up. We're going to miss you, pal." Jon said sympathetically.

"Thanks for *sniff* understanding." Tom said with a smile, he had gotten away with this.

"Feel better, Tom." He said before hanging up.

"They bought it!" Tom cheered, Harrison punched the air.

"Get in!" He said happily.

"I can't believe I got away with that, that was one of the worst performances of my career and I never doubted it for a second!" Tom said astonished, he was truly living out his Matthew Broderick fantasies.

"That was worth a Bafta, I swear." Harrison said, in awe of his bestie.

"I should be so lucky!" Tom joked, imagine winning an award for pulling a Ferris Bueller.

"Come on, our massage appointment starts soon." Harrison said as he looked at the time. Tom didn't feel as guilty as he thought he would, he was exhausted and needed to treat himself. He felt physically drained, hopefully he would feel relaxed and ready to get going again by tomorrow for filming.

- five hours later -

"I love a face mask!" Tom told Harrison as he peeled it off his skin effortlessly, they had the best massage that money could buy. Honestly, some people were blessed with magic fingers. Now the pair were back at the apartment, planning on having a movie day to just unwind.

"Your skin looks phenomenal!" Harrison complimented, Tom started blushing. His skin hadn't been the best since the abundance of makeup going into his face and wearing the spiderman mask most days. Oh, the acne!

"Cheers." Tom said as he flopped onto the sofa with a blanket, they were ready to watch Ice Age: Dawn Of The Dinosaurs.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang.

"I'll go get that, it's probably the food." Tom said with a slight huff as he had just sat down, but it's always worth getting up for some delicious num nums. He turned the door handle and was prepared to greet the delivery guy.

Wait, that's not a delivery guy! That was Marisa Tomei, Aunt May!

"Hi Tom, how are you feeling?" She asked in a sympathetic tone, Tom had to think fast. He quickly flopped against the doorway and turned his head and coughed, quickly rubbing his eyes to make them look puffy.

"H-Hey Marisa, still quite *sniff* poorly." Tom said quietly, making his voice sound run down and weak.

"You poor thing, I'm so sorry." Marisa said, she felt really bad for him. Little did she know that this was all an act.

"Where's the food, Tom? You're taking flipping ages." Harrison called out from inside the apartment, Tom's face flushed red with panic.

"Food? What food?" Marisa asked confused.

"Umm...j-just food." Tom said anxiously.

"Oh, well I know a little place in town that makes really nice chicken noodle soup so I thought I'd bring you some to make you feel better. " She said as she showed him the takeout container that was lightly steaming, and it smelt amazing.

"Aww thanks, that was *cough cough* so nice of you." Tom said, he felt really guilty now. He didn't want all this attention, he didn't deserve it at all.