Actions

Work Header

Rating:
Archive Warning:
Category:
Fandoms:
Relationship:
Characters:
Additional Tags:
Language:
English
Stats:
Published:
2024-04-20
Words:
1,560
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
17
Kudos:
369
Bookmarks:
31
Hits:
4,524

melt all your art (and drink the paint)

Summary:

It's not like Peter had an eating disorder. The teen couldn’t care less about how many calories he consumed daily. He didn’t suffer from a lack of appetite. In fact, he was often hungrier than his peers due to his advanced metabolism. Nor was the boy concerned about his body image. Peter didn’t have time to worry about his weight when there were assignments to complete and muggers to stop.

Spoilers: Peter struggles with a lesser known ED

Notes:

If you didn't read the tags, this fic deals with an eating disorder known as avoidant/restrictive food intake disorder (ARFID). ARFID is defined as "an eating disorder characterized by avoidance and aversion to food and eating. The restriction is NOT due to a body image disturbance, but a result of anxiety or phobia of food and/or eating, a heightened sensitivity to sensory aspects of food such as texture, taste, or smell, or a lack of interest in food/eating secondary to low appetite." If this is triggering to you, please click off :)

My birthday is in six days and I decided to write this as a treat for myself. Happy Birthday Chara426!

Title from Cavetown's Pigeon

Work Text:

Peter wasn’t a normal teenager. Well, of course, he wasn’t. The teen’s after-school activities included Academic Decathlon and superheroing around New York. He spent his weekends in the lab of Anthony Edward Stark. Tony’s laboratory was his sanctuary. He only let his most trusted confidants inside. And somehow, Peter qualified. 

 

But it wasn’t just Spider-Man and Tony Stark that kept Peter from being a “normal” teen. When asked what his least favorite subject was, Peter’s answer was lunch. 

 

It wasn’t that he wanted to stay in class and continue to learn. He loved many of the subjects Midtown Tech taught: calculus, chemistry, engineering. He appreciated the short break from learning just as much as his peers did. He needed the downtime to hang out with his friends. 

 

And it’s not like he had an eating disorder either. The teen couldn’t care less about how many calories he consumed daily. He didn’t suffer from a lack of appetite. In fact, he was often hungrier than his peers due to his advanced metabolism. Nor was the boy concerned about his body image. Peter didn’t have time to worry about his weight when there were assignments to complete and muggers to stop. 

 

Despite all his reasons why he shouldn’t hate lunch however, Peter still did. Midtown’s cafeteria was large, but not large enough to prevent the smells of different meals from meshing together to create a horrible concoction that made Peter nauseous. Although Midtown’s served lunch was nicer than their public school counterparts, it still looked… well, for lack of better words, disgusting, to Peter. It made it nearly impossible to stomach his meal. 

 

Peter looked in his lunchbox with a sigh. A bag of chips, goldfish, pretzels, and a juice box. Could his food even be considered a meal? No, not really. His food was the equivalent of a child’s snack run. 

 

The teen tried to listen to Ned ramble about a new LEGO set coming out as he tried to stomach his chips. The cafeteria was too bright, too smelly, too loud. He was trying his best, but he felt so nauseous. He couldn’t go without eating though! He’d be starving by the time Happy picked him up. 

 

Not to mention, Peter knew Tony was concerned about his eating habits. The man asked him what he ate for lunch one day and Peter replied honestly. “Is that all?” he replied, concern in his eyes. Of course, the older man was just looking out for Peter. But that didn’t change how his heart sped up how sweat trickled down his forehead or how his face turned red when he tried to explain himself. That he wasn’t only eating junk due to money issues or due to negative body image. That he was just picky, that’s all. Just picky. 

 

Deep down, Peter knew this went beyond normal picky eating. That wasn’t something he was ready to confront. 

 

 

“Hey Peter,” Tony greeted as the boy stepped out of Happy’s car. “How was school?” 

 

“Good…?” Peter replied, raising an eyebrow. “What are you doing here, Mr. Stark? I mean, you live here obviously. Not in the garage specifically, but you know what I mean. You don’t usually greet me when Happy drops me off.” 

 

“We’re actually going to the penthouse first today,” Tony explained. “I have something I need to discuss with you,” 

 

“Oh…” Peter shrugged. “Okay,” he replied, following his mentor onto the elevator. This discussion could be about anything. Yet, the teen had a bad feeling about the subject matter of this talk. 

 

As the elevator opened to reveal the living room of Tony Stark, Peter couldn’t help but blurt out, “Is this about my eating habits?” 

 

Tony gives Peter a sad smile, “How about we sit down, kiddo?” 

 

Peter groans and sits on the couch. But Tony speaks before the boy can try to defend his odd behavior. “Look, buddy. I know you’ve said you’re picky with food before and I completely respect that. However, I’m concerned about your health. Your diet is made up almost entirely of junk food. You know that’s not good for you, kid. I think this is a little more than being a picky eater.” 

 

Peter looks at his lap. “I can’t eat normally, Mr. Stark. I want to, but when I think of foods I’m not used to… I just get panicky…” 

 

“I know, Peter,” Tony replies. “I’m not asking that of you. I just think… maybe it’s time to see Dr. Cho and get a professional’s opinion.” 

 

Peter thinks for a moment. With a sigh, he agrees. 

 

 

“Have either of you heard of ARFID?” Cho asks, scanning both Peter and Tony’s expressions. Both men shook their heads. 

 

“ARFID stands for avoidant/restrictive food intake disorder. It’s also known as SED or selective eating disorder. It’s a type of eating disorder where certain foods can make a person feel scared, anxious, or disgusted. Even if the food in question is considered enjoyable to most people. It’s not about being picky or disliking foods, it’s intense fear surrounding them.” 

 

Peter’s eyes widen, “Are… are you saying I have an eating disorder?” 

 

“You do meet the criteria for ARFID, Peter. But the good news is the disorder is treatable.” 

 

“I need a moment…” Peter murmurs. He’s trembling as he walks out of Dr. Cho’s office. Tony’s quick to follow his kid into the hallway. 

 

“Peter?” Tony’s heart breaks as he sees the teenager curled up into a ball, sobbing. He sits down next to Peter and wraps his arms around him. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.” 

 

“Nothing about this is okay!” Peter sobs. He looks at Tony with bloodshot eyes. “I have an eating disorder! My picky eating is so severe it’s a fucking disorder!” 

 

“Shhh,” Tony comforts. “It’s okay because we know what’s going on now,” the man replies as he rubs Peter’s back. “And like Dr. Cho said, ARFID isn’t just being picky. Yes, a limited diet is a symptom of the disorder, but there’s more underneath the surface. It’s about the anxiety you feel around food and sensory aversions that keep you from having a balanced diet.” 

 

“Still doesn’t make it okay,” Peter murmurs. 

 

Tony sighs, “Maybe not right now,” he agrees. “But Dr. Cho said it’s treatable. How about we go back inside and hear about the treatment options, yeah?” 

 

Peter sighed and walked back inside Cho’s office, Tony right behind him. 

 

Dr. Cho didn’t say anything about Peter’s red eyes. Just handed him a box of tissues as she spoke. “The good news, if any, is you’ll have a whole team of people helping you get through this. Of course, I’ll be involved as your primary physician. But you’ll also have a therapist to address your anxiety and a dietician to guide you through trying new foods. I can recommend some colleagues if needed.” 

 

“Can you email the information to me?” Tony asks and replies with a quiet thank you when Cho nods in confirmation. “Is there anything else I could do for Peter as we’re figuring out his treatment team?”

 

The doctor hummed as she thought. “I’d recommend having him take some form of supplements. Protein shakes are a good option as there are many different brands and flavors. The chocolate ones taste just like chocolate milk, Peter. You guys could go to the health section of the supermarket and see what piques your interest. Of course, this is just the starting point. The supplements will help Peter get some required nutrients as we work on expanding his diet.” 

 

Tony let the information sink in before turning to Peter. “That doesn’t sound too bad, does it, Pete?” 

 

“I guess that’s… doable.”

 

A week later, Peter has his first appointment with his dietician, Kathy. “I see Helen has you taking meal supplements,” she said as he read his file notes. “Tell me how that’s going for you.” 

 

“It’s going pretty good, actually,” Peter smiled. “I wasn’t sure what brand I’d like the best so my mentor suggested getting multiple. So I got chocolate protein shakes and I really like them actually. I already like chocolate milk so not much of a change.” 

 

Kathy beamed. “That’s great, Peter! Now… do you just like the chocolate flavor, or do you like other flavors too?” 

 

Peter thinks for a moment. “Well… I’ve only tried the chocolate one. I think I’d like the vanilla ones though! I’m a little wary of the fruit-flavored ones…” 

 

The dietician smiles, “That’s something we can work with. Peter, do you think you’d be willing to try a sip of a fruit-flavored protein drink?” 

 

Peter goes quiet. The fruit-flavored drinks seem so overwhelming compared to his sweet, chocolate ones. But… maybe he’d really like the fruit ones! And maybe if he liked the fruit flavor, he would like its real counterpart as well. 

 

“I’m… willing to try it,” Peter answered. 

 

“I’m proud of you, Peter,” Kathy grins. “How about we make that this week’s homework to try one fruit-flavored protein drink? It might be helpful to write your thoughts down and we can discuss them next week.” 

 

“That sounds… pretty simple, actually,” Peter replies. “I can do that.” 

 

“I’m glad to hear it,” the dietician smiles. “I know this seems like it, but this is no small feat. You’ve been battling ARFID for years. Even baby steps count towards recovery.”