Tony waited patiently while Steve took to his inhaler -- giving him time to adjust, to let the meds settle in until he could breathe better. He most definitely was not having any kind of internal crisis about how his boyfriend was a child he basically had to take care of now. Nope. That'd come later, no doubt.
The question of whether or not he was sick didn't come quite as a surprise -- it sort of followed through with the conversation, after all. But he'd never really been asked that before. Not so upfront, anyway. Leave it to kids to just ask instead of wondering, or maybe just poking around at the idea of it slowly. "Sometimes I am," he said after a moment of consideration, because it was true. Maybe not in the same way this little Steve was but -- still. "Sometimes I have bad days," he decided on saying, because that was true, too. And because he knew Steve had that problem too, when he was sick. Wanting to relate wasn't a bad thing. He got it.
"And no, I'm not really a doctor," That didn't mean he didn't give the shot like an expert anyway, though. He'd had some practice. "At least, not that kind. I have degrees that are doctorates. In science and mechanics though, not medicine."