Smoke Gets in Your Eyes

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/38491810.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: Rape/Non-Con
Category: F/M, M/M
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Captain America (Movies), Iron Man
(Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel
Movies)
Relationship: Steve Rogers & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Morgan Stark
(Marvel Cinematic Universe) & Tony Stark, Steve Rogers & Natasha
Romanov, Peter Parker & Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Morgan Stark
(Marvel Cinematic Universe), Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, James "Bucky"
Barnes/Sam Wilson
Character: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Peter Parker,
Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Edwin Jarvis, Sam Wilson
(Marvel), James "Bucky" Barnes
Additional Tags: Tony Stark is Good With Kids, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Steve Rogers
is Good With Kids, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Tony
Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Steve Rogers Acting as
Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Misunderstandings, Fluff, Mutual Pining,
Peter Parker & Morgan Stark are Siblings (Marvel Cinematic Universe),
Bisexual Steve Rogers
Language: English
Series: Part 6 of In Like a Lion
Stats: Published: 2022-04-20 Updated: 2023-07-27 Words: 155,529 Chapters:
101/107

Smoke Gets in Your Eyes

by Finny3120

Summary

Formerly a captain in the Marines, Steve Rogers has been caught in a downward spiral
these past couple of years. After losing his job (and his girlfriend) to his former boss, he
accepts the unusual temporary arrangement as nanny to Tony Stark’s two very young
children. What’s meant to last weeks turns into months as Steve not only begins to love
Peter and Morgan, but their widowed weapons manufacturing father as well. As Steve
becomes an integral part of the Stark household, he begins to heal from his past trauma.
And- the Starks need him too.

A Nanny/Marvel crossover that is no longer a oneshot…

Notes
Ran across this idea on Tumblr a while ago and couldn't stop thinking about it haha. It was
very fun to write~
 Chapter 1

Steve had lost his temper. Again. And that was stupid because he knew that his boss had just been
looking for a reason to fire him.

Still, the thought that he was going to be replaced by his boss’s girlfriend, who had been his
girlfriend until about two months ago, was almost so absurdly bad that it was laughable. He’d liked
Sharon, had thought she liked him, and then he’d introduced her to his boss at one of their art
shows-

He needed to find a new job. He couldn’t focus on what had just happened- he hadn’t even
particularly liked the job- and he needed to find a new job now before he was forced to move in
with his mom in that cramped Brooklyn apartment. She’d be thrilled, he knew; he’d be trying to
chew his own leg off within a couple of weeks…

He pulled out his phone. “Nat, I need a job,” he said without preamble when she picked up.

“Are you kidding me?”

“Why would I joke about this?” He lowered his voice. “I’m about to be homeless or worse- move
in with my mother- so you have to help me. Please. I’ll take anything at this point.”

“Oh, god, Steve.” She sighed. “Alright, let’s see what there is. You wouldn’t be good at a desk
job- I’m not going to bother with those… you don’t have any medical licensing… that wouldn’t
work…”

“I know I’m a fuck up,” he said despairingly. “I dropped out of art school to join the army. I have
no transferable skills. I’m a meathead who likes to draw.”

“Alright, alright, come down from the ledge. I didn’t mean to insinuate you had no skills. There’s
just a lot of jobs that wouldn’t be great for you.” She paused. “How about delivering for a chemical
company? You need your big beefy muscles for that, meathead.”

“Delivering chemicals?” he asked doubtfully. “Is this just a fancy way of saying I’m a drug
dealer?”

She snorted. “No, dumbass. Actual chemicals and supplies. Like to use in a private lab. Come
down to my office, I’ll sign you up. You can start today.”

“Who actually has a lab these days? Dr. Jekyll?” But he started walking towards the nearest
subway. “Thanks, Nat.”

The first three deliveries were surprisingly normal. It hadn’t occurred to him that private labs could
mean private colleges and small research groups. He’d felt like a specific kind of FedEx worker,
reminding him of working the docks with Bucky when they’d been teens. Scientists had signed for
whatever it was they were mail ordering and he’d gone on his way.

No fanfare. No brains needed. No interesting aspects to the job. But he couldn’t complain- he
needed the work.

This delivery on the other hand… He’d spent at least five minutes- wasted five minutes, really-
gaping at a very pricey looking old Manhattan townhouse that looked like it had overtaken the next
five plots as well, if the fencing detail was anything to go by. He thought for sure he was in the
wrong place, but- he checked his delivery schedule again- he definitely wasn’t.

‘There’s a private lab in here? Why?’ he wondered, loading up his dolley. This he left in the back
of his supply van. Better to make sure he was in the right place before hauling it up all those stairs
to the front door. He rang the front door bell, feeling his palms sweat for some reason. A man
answered the door. “Hi,” he said awkwardly. “I’m Steve Rogers. Are you Mr. Stark?”

A kind if somewhat amused smile. “I’m Mr. Jarvis, actually. Mr. Stark’s butler. He’s been
expecting you. Please, come in.”

“Oh, well, actually I think that I need-” But the butler was already disappearing into the house and
he hastened to follow. He couldn’t help but feel like a mistake had already been made.

He felt out of place in this townhouse for sure. It had definitely been expanded into the neighboring
units; it was huge. He was like the proverbial bull in a china shop. And next to the butler with his
suit and English accent, he felt like a total schlub. The company polo shirt was at least a size too
small.

The front of the building had looked almost like a museum, all carefully cut flowers and
impersonal decorations, but back here- jeez, Steve thought. It was like moving from night to day.
Or vice versa. One doorway and he’d stepped into some futuristic lab, all metal and sharp, clean
lines. Steve wanted to take out his sketchpad. Was that a robot hanging in the corner?

“Mr. Stark, we have a Mr. Rogers to see you about the job,” the butler said drily and Steve would
have corrected him- because there had definitely been a misunderstanding- but then he saw who
the butler was talking to and the words died on his tongue.

In the front rooms, he’d been expecting someone old and suave, definitely rich and thus snooty;
when they’d entered the lab, he’d changed his mind. ‘Eccentric nerd,’ had been the words floating
most often through his head.

This man in front of him was neither. Or rather- he was something of both, perhaps. Young- Steve
estimated in his late thirties- brunette, and god- he was gorgeous. He had an air of sharp
intelligence about him and, even though he was dressed in old jeans and a Metallica t-shirt, Steve
had the impression he’d look just as good in a suit. His mouth was dry. The butler left, the small
click of the door shutting the first indication that Steve needed to talk.

“There’s been a mistake,” he said quickly.

“A mistake? You just got here. And I was beginning to think you couldn’t talk.”

“I shouldn’t be here- well, not like this- You think I’m someone else, I think.”

“I think you’re Steve Rogers unless Jarvis is off his rocker, which to be fair- he’s in his seventies
now- so he might be. Does this mean you don’t want the job? Cause I’ve got to be honest, I was
just coming around to the idea of a man filling the role. I started coming around to it,” he checked
his watch, “approximately seven minutes ago when you walked in the room.”

All of this was said with a faint smile as though Mr. Stark was half flirting with him, half not. Steve
didn’t even know what job the man had in mind. Stupid as it was, he half wanted to find out. Half a
dozen impure thoughts had insinuated themselves in his head and he chased them away half
heartedly. Something for later, perhaps.

They were interrupted by something- someone- that Steve hadn’t anticipated. And he’d thought at
this point nothing would surprise him about this visit.
“Daddy!” A little girl streaked past Steve, hurtling towards the scientist. He caught her bemusedly.
Steve could hear more footsteps behind him. “Peter was teasing me! He took my toy,” she said
tearfully.

And now there was a boy, maybe a year older than the little girl and practically her twin. “I
wasn’t!” he was yelling, grabbing at the t-shirt, pulling on it. “It was mine first. She took it from
me, but it’s mine-”

“Hey, hey, come on guys, I need you quiet-” He glanced at Steve and Steve gave him a little wave,
pulling his sketchbook out of his pocket. He’d have to wait to clear up the misunderstanding. His
mind was whirling though. Of course this guy had a family. He was amazingly handsome,
apparently very smart, and rich-

“Come on, Pete, I can hold you both-” And he did, somehow holding both kids against his hips. So
not the scrawny nerd Steve had thought. “You guys shouldn’t be in here,” Steve heard him say
quietly. “What have we said about it not being safe?”

“But he took my toy-”

“I did not-”

“It’s mine, it’s been in my room-”

“Hey, if we can’t come to an agreement, neither of you can play with the toy,” the brunette said
softly, rocking them both in his arms. This was a universally unpopular statement- they both started
to protest.

Steve decided to take pity on the scientist. Raising his voice slightly over the din, he suggested,
“What if we found a different toy for both of you to play with? Then later on we can figure out
who owns what?” ‘The sooner we resolve this, the sooner I can explain I’m here to drop off
Rubidium, Argon, and Selenium and then go-’

“That sounds like a good place to start,” Mr. Stark agreed, his dark eyes looking at Steve
speculatively. “Is that okay, Mr. Rogers? Or should I say, Captain?” So he’d caught the markings
on Steve’s old jacket. Steve blushed a little under the scrutiny. “Mr. Rogers is fine. I’m not a
captain anymore.”

‘It didn’t matter if this took the rest of the afternoon,’ he thought. This was his last delivery and
then he could clock out. And spend tonight considering his options.

“Once a captain, always a captain,” Mr. Stark joked lightly. He glanced from one kid to the other.
Both of them brunettes, with his same fine features. “Pete,” he decided, kissing the boy gently.
“Do you want to lead the way? Show Captain Rogers where your rooms are?”

Peter sniffled. “I could,” he agreed, but now he was suddenly shy. Still, Mr. Stark set him on the
ground, running his fingers through the boy’s curls. “Are you a captain of a boat?” the boy asked
Steve.

The artist felt inordinately fond of the little boy. “No, I was a captain in the army. But now I’m not.
I bet you have a cool room.”

“It’s upstairs.” Peter surprised him; he took Steve’s hand. His small fingers barely closed around
three of Steve’s. It made his heart hurt a little. He and Sharon-

“Lead on, Petey. Daddy’s still got to finish talking to Captain Rogers.” Apparently that name was
going to stick for the duration of this visit. Steve found that he didn’t mind.

The kids’ rooms were up on the second floor. The disputed toy went into Mr. Stark’s back pocket
with little fanfare. Both kids looked upset at its loss but they didn’t argue, to Steve’s surprise.

Pete pulled Steve into his room. “Oh, are you a builder like your daddy?” Steve asked, looking at
the Legos projects scattered around the room. Pete beamed. He nodded shyly, showing Steve his
stuffed animals next, and a wooden train set that Peter seemed to be building. “These are really
cool,” he said, holding up one of the curved s turn sections. “Hey listen, kiddo. I still have to talk to
your dad. Can you build something cool and I’ll see it maybe before I leave? Is that okay?”

The kid nodded again, grinning up at him. Steve felt like he’d done something right for the first
time all day. And it had been a very long day. “Good boy,” he said softly, patting Peter on the back.

He made his way across the hall to where the girl’s room was. He still hadn’t even learned her
name. Mr. Stark was sitting on her bed, talking to her in low tones, and Steve almost backed out
again, but the scientist had seen him. He waved him inside. “This is Morgan,” he said, almost like
he’d read Steve’s mind. “Morgan, how old are you?” he straightened out her dress, which had
twisted around her waist.

She looked up at him. Morgan was bold where Peter was shy, he realized. “I’m four,” she said,
holding up five fingers.

“Four years old, wow,” Steve said softly. “I would have guessed you were seven. You’re so tall.”

She grinned. “That’s silly. I’m shorter than Peter- and he’s five and a half.”

“Oh, okay. Thanks for clarifying.”

Mr. Stark tapped her on the shoulder. “Go make up with Petey. Tell him you’re sorry, okay?” She
looked at him and then sighed, like he’d given her some Herculean task to do. But she waltzed out
of the room, looking in much better spirits than she’d arrived in.

Neither man spoke for a minute. Steve scooped a doll off the ground and handed it to the brunette.
Mr. Stark looked at the doll carefully, and then set her aside, tucking her into the head of the bed
with a mass of other dolls and stuffed animals. “So you can see why I need a nanny,” he said
abruptly.

Steve laughed; he couldn’t help it. “That’s what you’re trying to hire me for?”

Mr. Stark looked up, half surprised and half amused. “Well, I was about to. But you did say there
seemed to be some mistake. So what are you actually here for?”

“I’m delivering some chemicals you ordered.”

Mr. Stark laughed at that. “Of course you are. Well, don’t worry. I tip well and you’ve been here
for probably an hour longer than you expected. I can compensate for that.”

“If you don’t mind my saying, you don’t seem to need a nanny. You do well with them yourself.”
He wanted to ask- where’s your wife? He didn’t.

Mr. Stark glanced through the open door of Morgan’s room and across the hall into Peter’s. They
could hear the kids playing together now, laughing at something. “I wasn’t cut out to be a single
parent,” he said abruptly. “They deserve more than I can give. And when you add in events like
tonight…” He trailed off.
“What’s tonight?”

“Hm? Oh, Stark charity gala- my father started them. Not really my thing but they do good work.
The kids go a bit bonkers at these kinds of things though. Their behavior has been… unmanageable
since their mom died.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve said and he was. He felt guilty now; he’d been hoping their mom was some
terrible woman who’d abandoned her kids and her husband and moved off somewhere, jet setting
or whatever the rich did these days. Now he was beginning to realize that nobody would have left
these beautiful kids behind by choice.

Mr. Stark had waved off his apology absently. Hears it a lot, Steve thought. “It’s too bad, Captain
Rogers. I’ve had nannies in and out all day and you’re the first one they seemed to like. Let’s get
down to the lab while they’re distracted. I can get you on your way.”

Still… Steve paused at the top of the stairs. Peter was laughing at something Morgan said now,
their previous spat apparently forgotten. “Mr. Stark,” he called down. The man paused half way
down the ornate staircase and turned, cocking an eyebrow at him. “Perhaps I could help out for
one night, tonight. But you’d have to rent me a suit. I don’t have a decent one.”

The man’s lips had curled into a smile. “Rent you a suit? I’ll buy you one. Every man should have
a decent suit in his closet.”

“Oh, but I-”

“Do I look like I’m hurting for money? Jarvis will take your measurements.”

“You should know that I’ve never been a nanny before,” Steve said, feeling slightly absurd.

“Noted. And you should know that Jarvis has been running a background check on you while we
were upstairs.” Steve shrugged; honestly, nothing in this household surprised him anymore. “Any
experience with kids?”

“Plenty of nieces and nephews.”

“Well, we’ll count that. See how you do tonight, at any rate.”

Steve was thinking quickly. It was crazy- and did he even want to be a nanny? Bucky and Sam
would laugh their asses off at him. But… he glanced upstairs. Peter had smiled at him and that had
been the first time in a long time that he’d felt like he’d done something right.

Mr. Stark was at his desk, scribbling something down. “Mr. Stark?” The man hummed, looking up
at him. Steve felt an explosion somewhere below his navel. “What would be the expectations if I
was to take the job?”

The brunette cocked his head. “You’d have to live here full time, but you’d have two days off a
week. We’d have to coordinate our schedules. I need someone to take care of the kids. Make sure
they’re fed, ready for school, do their homework with them, accompany them to their extra
curriculars, and you’d have to stand in for me for some parental functions… My work takes me
away more than I’d like it to.”

“What is your job?” Steve asked, realizing he barely knew anything about this man. Christ, he’d
have to check the job’s detail sheet to know his first name.

Mr. Stark’s mouth curved into the faintest hint of a smile. “I’m a weapons manufacturer, Mr.
Rogers. Family business.”

“Oh.”

“Are you thinking of taking the job after all?” Mr. Stark ripped out what he’d been writing on-
Steve realized it was a check belatedly- and stepped around the desk. He waited for Steve’s
response.

Steve chewed his mouth. It was crazy. He’d just gotten another job- because of a favor from Nat-
and he was potentially throwing it all away for something he might not even be good at. “You
wouldn’t mind a man raising your children?”

Mr. Stark’s eyebrows rose; he was definitely smirking now. “I’m a man, raising my children. If
I’ve been able to hold down the fort so far… I have faith in you as well.”

Steve looked him in the eye. “I’ll take the job,” he said softly.

“Good. Otherwise I’d be paying you a week’s salary for nothing.” He handed Steve the check. “I’ll
see you tonight. At the charity gala. Jarvis will fill you in on the rest.” He was gone before Steve
knew what had happened.
 Chapter 2
Chapter Notes

Not me, shamelessly adding a new chapter to a story I wrote nearly a year ago.

“Natasha, hi,” Steve said, trying for bright cheerfulness.

His friend was instantly alert. “What did you do?”

“Why do you assume that I did something wrong? I’m calling with good news-”

“You sound like a man who just made a stupid decision, Steve,” she said bluntly. “And I have a
feeling this stupid decision is going to impact me in some way-”

“I need your help,” he said, dropping his pretenses all in one go. “I’ve done something rash.”

There was a sigh. “Where are you?” she asked. “Your apartment?”

“No… well, I’m in my room actually,” he said, looking around the room that Jarvis had brought
him to a half hour earlier. “But I’m getting rid of my apartment, actually. Good thing I never
collected a lot of stuff. Sam and Bucky are going to have to help me move; they owe me.”

“Steve, you’re babbling. Give me an address.”

He rooted around in his stuff for the work slip that had Mr. Stark’s information on it. Tony Stark…
Park Avenue address… He gave her the address over the phone. “What on earth are you doing
there?” she asked.

“I’m at my new job.”

“Steve, the chemical supply company closes at 5.”

“Ah. I mean that I’m at my new new job.”

There was a long pause. “I’ll be right over.”

“You’re the best,” he said. She hung up on him. He’d expected as much, really.

Getting to his feet, he looked at himself in the mirror on the closet door. Jarvis had taken his
measurements, given him a brief tour of the house, updated him on what the past five- five!-
nannies had done in their limited scope of time in the household, and had dropped him off in this
room, promising to be back in an hour with his suit. Absurd. Jarvis had literally just taken his
measurements and now he was going to bring back a custom suit, paid for by a guy that Steve had
just met an hour ago himself-

“When I said make yourself at home, you really took it to heart.”

Mr. Stark’s dry tones sounded almost bored, but Steve could swear he heard a hint of amusement
on the edges of them. Steve pivoted- and there was Natasha standing next to Tony Stark, who
Steve had just realized was in an article he’d read just a week ago. “Oh. I should have-”
“No, by all means, invite friends over. Natasha’s charming.” Mr. Stark gave Steve’s redheaded
friend a faint grin. They already seemed remarkably at ease with each other for two people who
had never met before.

“Natasha’s basically my sister,” Steve blurted out. “I thought- well, there’s not much time before
the party- and I thought maybe you’d be more comfortable if there was a woman there with
Morgan.”

“I appreciate your concern, captain, but I assure you that I wouldn’t have hired you if I’d been
worried about leaving either of my children in your care. But you’re more than welcome at my
home, seeing as you’re apparently so close to my nanny, my manny, I was thinking of calling
him-”

“Please don’t-”

“Please do,” Natasha said.

“If I could interrupt, sir, here is Mr. Rogers’s suit-” Good. Jarvis was back. Like the conversation
wasn’t absurd enough. “I might suggest to you that it takes a long time to scrub grease off of skin,
Mr. Stark, and you are particularly covered-”

“I was having an important conversation with my manny, Jarvis-”

Natasha and Steve watched the pair of them continue to conversationally spar with each other.
Natasha closed the door finally. “So… I gave you a job that at least used your limited skills and on
the first day, you decide to quit that job to become a nanny?” she asked.

Steve was just thankful she didn’t call him a manny. “Actually, I haven't told my other job that I
quit yet, but yes, you seem to have gotten some of the details down already-”

“Care to explain what was going through your head?”

Steve floundered. “He’s got these two beautiful little kids and they had this fight about a toy- No,
you know what, that’s not the point. I made one of them laugh. He seemed so sad. And I thought-”

“Oh, Steve.”

“I know it was impulsive. Anyways, tonight’s just a test run. It might not even turn out well. And
then I can go back to being me- dumb, himbo Steve-”

“You’re not dumb,” she said.

“But you think I’m a himbo?”

She shrugged. “If the shoe fits. Okay. So you felt needed. I get that. It’s nice to feel needed. What
is it, exactly, that you’re looking for from me?”

“Well… the party starts in about an hour and I’ve got to get me and two kids dressed… There’s a
little girl. You’ll like her! I thought maybe she’d be more comfortable with a woman helping her
get dressed than me. Just for tonight, Nat?”

“You realize that if you’re going to do this long term, you’ll probably be doing more than dressing
her in the long run? How old is she?” He held up four fingers. “Oh god, yeah, Steve, she’s going to
need a lot of help from you. Are you comfortable with that?”
“I’ve taken care of other little girls before,” he said, thinking of his ‘nieces.’ “But if I’m only here
for one night…”

“I’m helping you this one time.”

“You’re the best,” he said, dashing to her and lifting her in a swooping circle. He set her gently on
her feet, kissing her firmly. “I love you.”

She hung out on his bed while he took a very quick, military-esque shower, scrubbing the grime of
the day off of him. He dried himself briskly, hopping around on one foot to get dressed. She
studied him critically, finally getting up to help sweep his hair back into something stylish, running
her fingers through his hair to tousle it.

“Let me introduce you to the kids,” he said, leaving his suit jacket on the hanger.

He introduced her to both the littles, who had been building in Pete’s room. True to form, Morgan
was incredibly outgoing, practically introducing herself to Natasha, holding on to her hand while
they talked. Pete was far more reserved. His reticence made him look older, but he was tiny. He
seemed to be caught out on a tightrope.

“You’re staying with us?” he asked Steve, his voice very quiet.

“I’m going to keep you company at the party tonight and talk to your daddy about the future. Does
that sound okay?”

“Yeah!” Morgan hollered. Pete nodded slowly.

“Okay, babies. Morgan- Natasha’s going to help you get dressed and maybe do your hair-?”
Natasha nodded. “And Petey, sweetheart, I thought maybe you and I could find something for you
to wear.”

Pete didn’t say anything, his thumb creeping up into his mouth. Steve resisted the urge to kiss his
forehead with great effort. “Okay, pal, let’s look in your closet.”

Steve found a surprising amount of dress wear in the five year old’s closet. He tried to get Pete to
talk; Pete was pretty reticent, all things told. The kid hung on to his dress pants and when Steve
covered his hand with his own, Pete buried his face into Steve’s thigh, breaking his heart a little in
the process.

“Okay, cutie, how about this- blue suit, seafoam green shirt? Do you like that or you want
something else?”

“I like it,” Pete said quietly. He glanced around. “I don’t really like the big parties.” This he
whispered.

“Did you tell your daddy that?”

Pete shook his head violently. “Don’t want to let him down,” he said, even quieter.

Steve tossed the clothes onto the bed. “You could never let your daddy down, Pete,” he said,
kneeling on the ground- his suit be damned- and running his hands down the little boy’s arms. “If
you don’t want to go, maybe we can figure out something else-”

“Will you stay with me the whole time?”

Steve ran his fingers through Pete’s hair. “Absolutely. You can hold my hand, baby.” Pete nodded
his head frantically. “Okay, then. Let’s get you dressed.”

Steve was much more comfortable taking care of this little boy than he’d thought he’d be. He got
Pete out of his play clothes and into the suit with little trouble. Peter was compliant, almost too
compliant, he thought. Steve was just gelling the little boy’s hair up into an imitation of his father’s
when Morgan came busting in.

“We don’t match,” she told Steve, looking Peter over.

“That’s because the two of you are so different,” he said, giving her a smile that he hoped would
make everything okay. “You look beautiful.”

She smiled at that. “This is my favorite dress.” She spun around for him, giggling when the dress
flared out.

“I can see why. All done, Pete.”

Morgan was tugging on his sleeve. “Is Natasha your girlfriend? Do you love her?”

He had to smile at that. Looking up, he saw Nat in the doorway, leaning on the jamb. He gave her
an apologetic smile. “Nat’s not my girlfriend, but I do love her very, very much. Just like I’m sure
you love Peter.”

Morgan was still trying to suss them out apparently. “She’s your sister?”

“Basically.” He tucked Peter into his side and took Morgan’s hand, giving her a little twirl that
made her dress spin out again; she laughed at that. “Do you like parties?” he asked, wanting to get
the emotional lay of the land before they were downstairs. Pete didn’t, she-

“Yes! Parties are fun!”

“It’s almost time, Steve,” Natasha said. “I’m going to head out.”

He let go of both kids, getting up to hug her. “Thanks for- thanks for everything, Nat. I’ll let you
know how it goes.”

“Oh, god, you’d better.” She kissed his cheek, waved at both kids, and was gone.

He was alone. He looked back at them. Peter was sitting cross legged on the ground, patiently
waiting. Morgan was already getting into mischief. He clapped his hands. “Babies,” he called.
“Let’s get my jacket from the room. I can already hear people downstairs. We might as well join
the party.”

Morgan whooped. Pete stood up like he was heading for his execution. Steve was going to have
his work cut out for him, he could already tell.

Steve made his way down the spiral stairs at the front of the place a couple minutes later, holding
one of the kids’ hands in each of his own as they went down. Both kids were minutely vibrating-
Morgan from excitement, Peter from nerves. “It’s going to be fun,” he said, mostly trying to talk
Peter up. The five year old was getting more and more quiet with each step down.

“Uh huh,” Morgan said enthusiastically. “There’s so many people, Steve-”

“Remember to always stay with me or Daddy though, right Morgan?”

“I’ll be good.” But he could tell she was barely listening. He was going to have to watch her.
“Daddy!”

As soon as they’d reached the bottom of the stairs, Morgan had pulled free from his grasp and was
running across the room towards Mr. Stark. “Shit,” Steve whispered under his breath, scooping
Pete up in his arms and taking off at a fast clip, following her through the crowd. So much for a
good first impression.

Morgan had been caught up by the inventor, held aloft on one of his arms. Mr. Stark was talking to
a pretty redhead- who was she?- and swaying with Morgan in his arms. He looked up as Steve
approached, practically smirking at him. “She’s a runner.”

“I’m gathering that.”

Mr. Stark held out his other hand; Steve was confused but Peter wasn’t. Reaching out his hands, he
clearly wanted in on his daddy’s hold. He transferred the five year old into Mr. Stark’s arms,
watching as the mechanic pressed a kiss to both kids’ foreheads. “Look at you, so handsome. Did
you pick this combo out?” Peter shook his head. “Oh, well then Steve’s got good taste, huh?”

“I picked out my dress,” Morgan said, hitting Mr. Stark on the chest. Steve almost told her not to
hit, but didn’t want to circumvent their actual father’s authority. He waited for Mr. Stark to tell her
off, but he didn’t.

“You always have good taste,” Mr. Stark said instead, setting both kids down on the ground.

“Tony-”

Right. He’d forgotten about the strawberry blond. She looked like she didn’t think too much of
Steve. Steve opened his arms and both kids flitted into his hold. “Oh, Steve, I haven’t introduced
you. This is Pepper Potts. She's essentially the CEO of my company.”

“Miss Potts,” he said politely.

“This is another one then? Tony, I have to go greet Mr. Clark. He’s looking lost, by the door.
Excuse me, Steve-”

“You don't enjoy being the CEO of your company?”

Mr. Stark half smiled. “I prefer working in my lab.”

“Oh.”

“Morgan, I want you to listen to Steve tonight. I don’t want a repeat of last month’s gala, you hear
me, little miss?”

What had happened last month? Steve opened his mouth to ask precisely that, but Mr. Stark’s
attention was already shifting. “Have fun at the party, kids. Steve- they shouldn’t be up after 8:30-
have fun-”

And he was gone.

Steve assessed his two charges. Morgan was frowning, watching her father’s retreating back with a
scowl on her face. Pete looked ready to cry. “Come here,” he said, getting on his knees. To hell
with how he looked. To hell with a good first impression. He hugged both kids to him. “Let’s go
steal some appetizers.”
He wondered if they were getting enough to eat this way, harassing wait staff whenever they
chanced upon one. Certainly neither kid looked like they were starving, although they were both
very small for their ages. He danced with both kids on the corner of the dance floor, teaching
Morgan some complicated dance steps that she picked up really quickly. He caught Peter almost
smiling at one point and resolved that if he did one thing that night, he wanted to make the little
boy smile.

Morgan was boisterous, a real mixer. She had no qualms about working the crowd, loudly
introducing herself to the various gala attendees, and virtually dragged Peter in her wake, making
him say hello as well. Steve followed in their wake, trying not to smile. Pete glanced back several
times, almost seeming to ask for help. Whenever his eyes got particularly big, Steve intervened.

“Steve? I have to potty.” That was Peter.

“Got it. Come on, let’s all go to the bathroom.”

Morgan whined. “But I don’t have to go.”

“But Pete has to go. And I’m watching both of you. Do you want to walk over or should I carry
you?” He gave her half a minute to make a decision on her own, but he could see Pete squirming.
“I’m going to carry both of you,” he decided, scooping them up. “Where’s the bathroom, bud?”

“There-” Peter pointed down the hall.

“I want to stay!” Morgan said loudly, hitting Steve on the face.

“Morgan, you can’t hit. Here it is- do you need help?” Pete had this wide eyed look. He shook his
head quickly, pulling down his pants. Steve snagged a stool with his foot and pulled it over to the
toilet. He shut the door to the bathroom, putting Morgan on the ground. She smacked his thigh.

It didn’t even hurt. It was the attitude. He could see a full meltdown brewing. “Morgan, I need you
to listen to me.” She threw herself on the ground instead, going into full tantrum mode. Steve half
wondered what it sounded like outside the bathroom. Christ. He hoped that Mr. Stark really did
trust him with his kids.

“Steve-” That was Pete, barely audible over his sister. He pointed at the toilet seat. “I dribbled,” he
said apologetically.

“That’s okay, Pete,” he said, stepping over Morgan. “It happens.” Grabbing some toilet paper, he
wiped the seat off. “You did good. Let’s see-” Morgan was kind of in the way of Pete washing his
hands. “I’m going to lift you onto the counter. Hang on.”

The four year old seemed to lose steam and then regain it whenever she caught Steve looking at
her. Waiting it out was certainly taking a lot longer than he’d anticipated. He could hear knocking
on the door- that certainly didn’t help- “We’re going to be a minute,” he called through the door.
‘Find another bathroom, jesus-’ he thought to himself.

“I never get to do what I want to do,” Morgan said through sobs.

Peter was crying now too. Steve grabbed him under the armpits and sat him on his knee, sitting
himself on the edge of the toilet, and trying to wait Morgan out. Truth be told, he wanted to
comfort her as well; hitting or not, she was a four year old that had been through a lot in the past
year. He had a feeling she would need to make the choice to approach him first though. He jangled
Pete on his knee.
“Morgan, I want to help you,” he said loudly over her crying. “It’s hard to talk to you like this-”

“You like Peter more than me,” she sobbed.

“That’s not true.”

“You’re holding him-”

“Do you want me to hold you too? I have another knee.” This was a mistake. He never should have
agreed to this. It was crazy to think that he could take care of two emotionally handicapped
children. He’d barely had a childhood himself.

She surprised him by crawling over to him, still hiccuping and sobbing rather theatrically. He took
it for what it was worth- he scooped her up, holding her to him and rocking both of them. “Okay,”
he said helplessly. “Okay. We can do this. I can do this. I think we’ve had enough partying for
tonight. Let’s head upstairs.”

Even Morgan didn’t argue about this. He slipped out of the bathroom, hearing a loud ‘finally!’
from some big blond woman (‘bitch,’ he thought profoundly); he ignored every person he came
across, heading towards the dining room.

Turning a corner, he heard a group of older men in suits talking. He slipped around them, wanting
to get out of there, and heard half of their conversation- “...You see Stark’s newest toy out there. A
male nanny, like we’d believe that-”

“Bold to have him at a charity function-”

“Stark never had an ounce of shame. His wife not even in the ground a year and he’s already
screwing the help-”

There was a burst of laughter and Steve pushed through the dining room, hoping neither kid had
heard or understood any of that. As for him, the back of his neck was burning with shame and
mingled anger. He sighed in relief when he found himself in the kitchen. “Okay,” he said, forcing
himself to sound cheerful. Both kids were looking up at him. He gave them his largest smile. “We
escaped. Yay us.”

Morgan tentatively giggled and after a pause, so did Peter. Steve could feel his heart swelling.
‘Don’t get attached,’ he told himself. ‘You can’t do this long term.’

He brought them up to Morgan’s room, dropping them both on the rug. “How are you guys at
getting out of clothes?” he asked, unzipping the back of Morgan’s dress. “Can you give it a try?
I’m going to get some of Peter’s pajamas and I’ll be right back.”

Zipping across the landing, he picked his way through Pete’s drawers, finding training undies and
fleece pajamas. By the time he was back, Morgan had gotten out of her dress and was helping Peter
yank his pants off. They were laughing.

“You’re so good,” Steve said, placing a hand on Morgan’s head as he headed for her closet. He
found a nightgown and her own undergarments. Nobody had told him if Morgan was potty trained.
Pete had at least, already gone. “Can you put these on,” he asked her, holding the underwear out.
“Let’s see if we can get you to go to the bathroom before we settle in, huh? Pete, I’ll come help
you with the buttons, just a sec-”

“Can Peter sleep in my bed tonight?” Morgan asked when they were both dressed and situated.
Steve paused. “Does Daddy let you do that?”

“Sometimes.”

Steve startled. There was Mr. Stark, leaning on the door. He beamed at the kids as they squealed,
running over to him. “I need my kisses,” he said, squatting down. “I have to go give a really boring
speech,” he complained dramatically, rubbing Morgan’s stomach.

“Ugh, so boring,” she said, throwing her hands up in disgust.

“Did you have fun?” he asked Peter.

Peter stroked Mr. Stark’s face. “Uh huh. Steve showed us how to dance.”

“I was watching. You were so good.” Getting up, Mr. Stark pushed them back towards the bed.
“Go on, get in bed. I- I still have to give that speech. How were things tonight?” he asked Steve.

Steve thought about the night. Trying to keep two kids alive and entertained. Afraid Morgan was
going to do a runner at any point. Poor Pete, who looked like he was on the verge of tears. The big
tantrum at the end. And all the little nasty comments he’d heard all night. “Not bad,” he said.

Mr. Stark looked delighted at that. “Good. Why don’t we keep this test run going for a while yet
then?”

And Steve smiled weakly, nodding vaguely. He felt torn. The kids needed him. He wasn’t good at
this at all. Mr. Stark seemed to need him. He was ruining Mr. Stark’s reputation with all of his
charity donors. “Yeah, for the rest of the weak, at least,” he agreed. “You already paid.”

The mechanic flashed a smile at him. He blew kisses to the kids on the bed and was gone before
Steve knew what had hit him. “Let’s review our days,” he suggested, sitting on the bed. “Anything
exciting happen to anyone? I’ll start- I got a new job-”
 Chapter 3
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Steve had fully intended on calling Natasha the moment after the kids were in bed, but he was up
with them for a solid forty more minutes after Mr. Stark had gone down to the gala, listening to a
blow by blow from Morgan and then reading, at Peter’s request, a story from Frog and Toad.

They’d both surprised him by kissing him on the cheek; he couldn’t help but feel like this was a
mistake he’d allowed- what if he was gone by next week? But he hadn’t been able to say no when
they’d opened their arms to him.

Jarvis had run into him in the hall, standing there with his head leaning back against the door. Steve
had straightened up guiltily but Jarvis was at least smiling at him. “You lived through it.
Congratulations.”

“How many nannies died during the first gala?” he joked weakly.

“The woman three nannies ago left about an hour after we hired her,” Jarvis said, jerking his head
towards the back staircase.

He followed the butler down to the kitchen, helping to plate up appetizers to give him something to
do with his hands. “Why on earth…?”

“Some of the previous nannies have come with their own expectations of the Stark household,”
Jarvis said blithely. “And their own abilities.”

“As opposed to me, who came with no expectations?”

“I do admire your open minded approach.”

Steve grinned. He liked the butler’s dry wit. “They’re very sweet,” he said. “They’re just little
kids…”

Jarvis leaned against the countertops, fixing him with a surprisingly appraising look. “Peter barely
talks these days, while Morgan fills the void by being everywhere at once. Peter shrinks inside
himself. Morgan strikes outward. Frankly, Mr. Stark is very overwhelmed by both. And you have
your doubts as well, Captain Rogers?”

“I want to help. I’m afraid I’ll make it worse for everyone.”

Jarvis’s eyebrows rose faintly but he said nothing to that. Turning, he went back to his task. “Did
you know,” he said to the room at large, “that Peter laughed more tonight than he has in the past
six months?”

“No.” Steve didn’t know what to say. “What did Morgan do at the last gala?” he asked instead.

Jarvis bent to grab saran wrap. “She kicked one of Mr. Stark’s top donors in the shin, overturned a
punchbowl, and then tried to run away when she realized she was in trouble. Mr. Stark had to chase
her down four blocks.”

“Oh wow.”
“They could both use some love and consistent boundaries. Mr. Stark is devoted to them, but his
work puts pressure on him. The kids were very different before Mrs. Stark died. Everything was…
easier.”

Steve wanted to ask what had happened but didn’t dare. “If you see me doing them harm- any of
them- will you tell me? I’ll go the moment I become a problem instead of a solution.”

“I don’t foresee that becoming a problem. Goodnight, Captain. Get some rest- you’re going to need
it.”

And Steve, seeing it as the dismissal that it was, nodded, touching his forehead in a half salute. He
took the stairs up, two at a time, pausing at his room and then moving down the hallway. He
listened at the kids’ door- it was quiet; he pushed his way in, wondering if this was pushing the
boundaries.

Speaking of pushing… Morgan was pushing Peter, even in her sleep, towards the edge of the bed;
she had starfished in the middle. Stuffed animals had been knocked everywhere. Steve picked Pete
up, rubbing his back. He tugged the blanket back into place around her, brushing her hair away
from her forehead. Downstairs, the party seemed to have wound down. He couldn’t hear the sound
of people mixing anymore.

He backed out of the room and into the landing-

“Kidnapping Pete? Good choice.” He jumped nearly a mile. Mr. Stark was at the top of the stairs,
hands out in a friendly manner. “Joking,” he said softly.

“I was just checking on them,” Steve said, feeling his heart pounding.

“Sometimes they cuddle, but mostly Morgan knocks him on the ground by the time morning
comes around. Moving him back to his bed?” Steve nodded mutely. “Smart guy. Come on, I’ll
help.”

Steve followed him into the blue bedroom, handing Pete over. He pulled the covers down. Mr.
Stark pressed kisses to Pete’s curls, laying him down in the middle of the bed. He moved action
figures out of the way, scoffing a little at some of them. Steve felt out of place. He should probably
go. It was just-

Just the way Peter curled up, sucking on his thumb, well- it made Steve’s heart hurt a little. He’d
always wanted babies of his own and just now, when life seemed to be pulling him as far away
from having children as it could, these kids had entered in. “He’s so sweet, Mr. Stark,” he said,
helping to smooth out the blankets. He blushed. “You already know that-”

Mr. Stark glanced up. “He is. Always was. I’m a little more worried about him, than Morgan, truth
be known. He understood more about what was going on…” There was a pained look on his face.
He shrugged. “Morgan’s always been good at getting her needs met, but Pete, he- He’s a lot like
me. He’s trying to be stronger than he has to be. You’ll look out for him, won’t you?”

Steve looked up at him in the shadowy moonlight. “Like he was my own,” he agreed.

“Good.” Mr. Stark twitched a smile at him. Steve made a motion indicating that he should
probably go- the mechanic said one more thing that made him pause at the door. “Captain?” Steve
turned around. Mr. Stark had shoved his hands in his pockets; he stood watch over Peter as if this
was his only care in the world.

“Yes, Mr. Stark?”

 “Hiring you was the best mistake I’ve made in a while.” Mr. Stark’s tone was jocular but his eyes
were harder to read, especially now with the light of the hallway spilling out behind Steve. “Don’t
be hasty, running away from us, huh? Please?”

Steve thought about those men at the party, the jokes they made. About him. More importantly,
about Mr. Stark. What did it matter to Steve if a couple of dirty old men thought he was having sex
with his employer? But it did. It mattered to him because he was attracted to his boss and he wasn’t
going to enter into a relationship with him, not when it would hurt everyone involved, not when he
wasn’t even sure that his new boss was bisexual the way he was.

“I’ll see you at breakfast,” he said, his mouth dry.

Mr. Stark hummed. “We eat at 8:30. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

So yeah, Steve didn’t have the time or the energy to call Natasha after all that. He’d see her the
next day. Instead, he made his way down to his room at last, working his way out of the suit and
hanging it ruefully back onto the hanger it had come from. He wished he’d thought to have
Natasha or someone bring over a change of clothes for him. He was going to have to grab his stuff
tomorrow.

For now though… He climbed under the covers of his bed, sighing deeply. The mattress in this
guest bedroom was definitely higher quality than the mattress he owned in his own apartment. He
wondered what it would be like, living with a family. He’d been alone for a long time now. He half
liked his freedom, half worried that he was never going to find the right person.

Rolling onto his side, he wondered if living in house as a nanny was going to make dating harder.
His mind drifted back unwillingly to his new boss. Beautiful eyes, half a smile on his face at all
times. A little sad though. He must have really loved his wife… Steve wondered what it would
have been like to have been loved like that.

Steve was out before he knew it.

Chapter End Notes

A small addition. No promises that I will continue to update on anything resembling a

consistent basis, but I have always intended on rounding this story out more. Let me
know what you think!
 Chapter 4

Mr. Stark… Mr. Stark was not a morning person. Morgan was. This made breakfast chaotic.

“Why are you wearing the same clothes you wore yesterday?” Morgan asked, kneeling on her seat.
“Don’t you have other clothes? Is that your favorite shirt?”

“Morgan, honey, sit on your bum,” Steve said, patting the seat.

She reluctantly sat correctly. “Where did you go this morning?”

“I have other clothes. I need to pick them up from my apartment. No, it’s not my favorite shirt. I
went for a run this morning. Why were you awake?”

“Because I heard you leaving!”

“You must have bat ears. I was so quiet.”

She giggled, leaning against him, scooting forward again so she was on her knees once more. “I
don’t! I have normal ears! You were loud!”

“Pete didn’t hear me, did you, buddy?”

Peter was beside Mr. Stark, blinking at him sleepily. “No…” He spilled scrambled eggs down his
front. Mr. Stark picked them out of his lap and tossed them back on his plate. Peter yawned. “Can I
have some coffee, Daddy?” Mr. Stark shook his head, grinning at him.

“You don’t drink coffee,” he murmured.

“I’ll be more quiet tomorrow when I go,” Steve promised Morgan.

She looked at him speculatively. Darting forward, she stole a piece of his bacon. He aped shock
and she laughed at him. Morgan swiveled, still braced against the table. “Daddy, are you working
today?”

“I work every day, baby.”

She clearly didn’t like that answer. She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. If Mr. Stark noticed
the silent criticism, he ignored it. Steve estimated this was his third cup of coffee. Not Steve’s
business. He reached across the table and rubbed Pete’s hand. “Want to go on an adventure today?”
he asked.

“I do!” Morgan yelled.

“Inside voice, little miss,” Mr. Stark said. She scowled at him. Poking Steve, she sidled even
closer. “I should go.”

“Of course you’re coming,” he said patiently.

“Where are we going?” Peter asked, looking up.

Steve plucked at his shirt. “I need to get the rest of my clothes as Morgan has noticed. And make a
plan for everything else. I could use your strong muscles,” he added, cause Pete seemed more
withdrawn this morning.
“I’m strong,” Morgan chimed in.

“You both are.”

“Pete can’t carry things. He gets tired,” she insisted.

“I can carry things!”

Steve didn’t understand how each conversation somehow turned out this way. “I know you’ll both
be big helps to me,” he said, because it didn’t seem like Mr. Stark was going to help guide this
conversation. “I’m glad you’re so different from each other. You both have unique strengths.”

“But I’m better,” Morgan said confidently, slipping out of her seat and running out the dining
room. “I’m going to go play!”

“Oh, lord,” Steve heard Mr. Stark mutter under his breath. “Hey,” he said, bending low so that his
face was level with Peter’s. “You know you’re plenty strong. Morgan’s just…” He trailed off,
clearly not knowing what to say.

“Confident,” Steve supplied.

Mr. Stark laughed at that. “Very confident in her abilities. Give me a kiss, Pete.” Pete pecked him
on the lips. “Did you get enough to eat?” The five year old nodded. “Okay, baby boy. Go play.
Steve and I are going to talk and then you guys can have your adventure.”

They watched Pete slide out of his seat, feet hitting the floor with a soft thump. Peter paused…
then made his way over to Steve’s side of the table, hugging his hip. Peter was the one who was
going to break his heart, he decided. Of all the Starks, he was the one Steve knew he was already
desperately attached to. “Thanks, buddy. Go have some fun.” He rubbed Pete’s back.

And then it was just the two of them. “Do you mind me taking the kids with me?”

“No, I give you free reign.” Mr. Stark pulled a bundle of papers out of his breast pocket. “I wrote
down some information about both of them. Uh, here-” Getting up, he took Morgan’s seat beside
Steve. “They both go to preschool three times a week. Morgan’s got dance lessons. Pete’s got
karate. Thinking maybe I should have switched that. Uh, Pete’s got some allergies. Jarvis does
most of the food prep anyways.” He hummed. “There’s always something I’m forgetting,” he
mumbled, running fingers through his hair.

Steve grabbed his arm impulsively. “We’ll figure it out.” Realizing what he’d done, he jerked
away. “Sorry- I’m too handsy.”

There was that half smile. “I’ll never complain about that.”

He felt himself smiling and stopped with an effort. “I’ll keep them safe,” he promised.

“I have complete faith in you, captain.” Mr. Stark got up, smoothing his suit down. “I love them
both,” he added unexpectedly. “It might seem like I care more about Peter. It’s just…”

Steve got up too. “I never thought that.” He started to gather plates. “Have a good day at work.”
That was stupid. He could feel himself beginning to blush and turned on his heel. He thought he
heard a faint ‘you as well,’ behind him as he strode into the kitchen but he didn’t want to double
around if he hadn’t heard correctly and make an even bigger fool of himself.

“Oh, I’ll do that, Captain Rogers.”

He blinked at the butler. “Did you eat?” he asked stupidly.

“I eat earlier than the family. With my wife. You’ll meet her at some point.”

He called his old new job on the way up to his room and let them know that he wouldn’t be
coming back. He shook his hands out, anxiety building as the conversation went on. He looked out
the window of his bedroom, watching an older woman working in the garden below. Was that
Jarvis’s wife?

He called Natasha next. “You know some of us work consistently, don’t you?” she asked drily.

“It’s your day off. You love me.” Anyways, he told her what he needed to do.

“And you need my help with that because…?”

“You owe me! The only shirt I’ve got right now is this monstrosity that the other company gave
me- they’re not happy, by the way- and I swear that you always ask for a size smaller on purpose-”

“It makes your muscles look even bigger!” She was definitely laughing at him now.

“Didn’t know that was a problem,” he mumbled, tying his shoes quickly.

“It’s those muscles that are going to get you some love-”

“Not my good heart?”

“No-”

He was laughing. “I’m hanging up on you. See you in a bit. Let me get the kids ready.”

He started with Morgan, feeling like she was going to be more complicated. Morgan loved the
attention, he could tell. He let her pick her outfit, offering selections for each article. She ended up
dressed in an abomination of stripes, stars, and rainbows. “You make it work,” he agreed when she
asked for his opinion.

Pete didn’t want to pick. “It doesn’t matter,” he said when Steve knocked on his door. Morgan
pushed in after him. “You should wear this sweater,” she said, yanking on a sleeve.

“Okay.”

“Ooh, Morgan, can you help put Pete’s blocks away while we’re picking out clothes?” Steve said.
“Thanks, honey.” He picked up Peter. “I want you to wear clothes that you like,” he whispered.

Peter chewed on his lip. He stuck with the sweater that Morgan had picked for him, but picked a
blue pair of sweatpants and a red shirt. Steve squeezed him. “Good boy. I’m so proud of you.”

Steve had planned on taking the subway over to his apartment, but remembering Jarvis’s story
about Mr. Stark chasing Morgan four blocks, he decided to take the older man up on his offer to be
driven. “Something less showy though, please-”

So he found himself crammed into a car that was still pricier than anything he’d ever dream of
owning in his life, watching the two kids in their car seats. Morgan was babbling. He let her talk,
playing with Peter’s hand.

Natasha was in the apartment by the time he got there. “You’re back,” Morgan hollered, launching
herself at her. “This is where you live? It’s not very nice,” she added, ducking around to look at
Steve’s apartment. Natasha laughed at that. She followed after the four year old.

Steve didn’t really care if she investigated his apartment. He knew he didn’t have a lot- being in
the army, he’d never accumulated much. He’d never gotten used to staying in one place for long.
He did shut the chain lock on the door though- he hoped Morgan would never run out of the
apartment but he didn’t want to take the chance.

“I like the art,” Peter said, hovering near him.

“Maybe we can all paint together,” Steve said, kissing him impulsively on the cheek. He
straightened and found Natasha watching him. He could hear Morgan jumping on his bed. He
blushed. “Make yourself at home, buddy. I’m sorry there’s nothing to play with.”

“I know, I know…” he said heavily, approaching Natasha.

“I said nothing.” She got his suitcase out. “We’re just focusing on some clothes for you today?”

“That’s right.”

“I’ll start pulling your essentials,” she said, opening his underwear drawer. “Morgan- not so close
to the edge.” He was surprised when the four year old moved without argument or complaint.
Natasha began dumping boxers and socks into the suitcase. He pulled jeans and shirts at random,
added sweats, found one sweater, and mentally cataloged the rest.

“Did you tell the others?” he asked, finding a sketchbook and bringing this to Peter.

“Did I update our friends on your life since yesterday? No.”

He scooped Morgan up, pressing a kiss to her forehead. He smiled at her, dipping her backwards;
she screeched happily and he motioned for her to be a little quieter, finger on his lips, but he was
glad she was happy. He dumped her unceremoniously back on the bed. She laughed, scrambling
back over to him.

Natasha was staring at him. He rubbed the back of his neck. “What?”

“Nothing. Just- you’re good at this.”

He rolled his shoulders. “Nah,” he said diplomatically. “I’m not. But I like it.”
 Chapter 5

Steve… Steve was working harder than he ever had before. “It’s much harder than it looks,” he
told Natasha one morning as he was sorting through laundry. “They keep me running.”

She tossed a pair of briefs at him; he slung this into Peter’s basket. “Don’t lie, you’re having a
blast.”

“I’m having so much fun, Nat,” he agreed enthusiastically. “But really, it is like doing a math
problem where the variables are constantly changing-”

The kids had run ramshackle over his life; Steve had allowed it. He’d told Natasha not to tell Sam
or Bucky about his new job yet- they had plans to get together this weekend and he wanted to see
their faces. He’d moved his clothes over, brought the kids to Brooklyn to meet his mom on
Tuesday, took them to and from school on the other days. They’d gone to the library on Thursday.
Steve had met Jarvis’s wife that afternoon; she mostly stayed in their quarters but was lovely. He’d
worked in the garden with her and the kids- everyone had gotten dirty as a result-

And now, here it was Friday night, and Mr. Stark was still out, had been mostly out all week
really, and Steve had both kids propped on the couch, trying to think of something to do. Morgan
was tossing out suggestions, most of them unlikely, none of them feasible this close to their
bedtimes-

“You just have so much energy, Morgan,” he marveled. “We need to find more positive ways to
use it.”

“Like running?”

“No,” Steve said firmly; the story about Morgan’s last pre-Steve gala would forever haunt his
nightmares. “I don’t think Daddy wants us running through the streets. Maybe at a track.”

She squinted at him, swinging her legs and accidentally kicking the coffee table.

“Do you like ballet?” Steve asked, kneeling in front of the couch and leaning on one of his arms to
look at her.

“Kind of…” Morgan tapped her toes inward. “But it’s so slow and Mrs. Henrietta doesn’t like me!”

“I don’t think that she dislikes you, honey.” Steve would have to run some thoughts by Natasha.
She’d done ballet when she was little. “Maybe you need some activities that use up more of your
energy.”

“You could do karate with me,” Peter offered, leaning over and tipping onto his side. He wriggled
around so that his head was in her lap.

“Daddy says that's special for you.”

“I don’t mind,” Peter said, surprising Steve because he knew that Mr. Stark (and he) had felt that
anything Morgan got into would overtake Peter just due to natural exuberance. “You could be my
partner.”

Steve rubbed Pete’s belly. “Would you like that, Morgie?”

Morgan considered it. She leaned forward, rubbing her hands through Peter’s hair. Steve thought it
looked kind of rough, but Pete didn’t seem to mind- “Can I wear a dress?” she asked excitedly.

“Mm, no, honey, everyone wears the uniform.”

“Hmm, maybe then.”

“I’ll talk to Daddy. You can always try it for one lesson. Peter, you really don’t mind?”

“No… Morgan’s silly and she makes me laugh. It’ll be fun!”

“Do you still want to do ballet?” Morgan thought about it. She nodded seriously. “Okay. What
about you, Pete? Do you ever want to learn how to dance? Or do something else-?”

“Do boys dance?”

“I love dancing! Remember at the gala? You guys were so good,” he gushed. He lifted Pete’s shirt,
blowing a raspberry on his stomach. Peter curled into himself, laughing helplessly. Steve pretended
to nibble on Morgan’s toes. God, but he loved the way they sounded when they were laughing.
“Something to think about, buddy. You don’t have to decide tonight.”

“Steve, can we dance right now?” Morgan asked, crawling towards him. She snuggled him, her
arms wrapped around his shoulders.

“Now? I don’t know, it’s almost bedtime-”

“Please?” Peter had joined in, rolling onto his side so that he was looking at Steve with those big,
hopeful eyes that Steve was helpless against.

Steve bit his tongue. “Just a little,” he said. “But only cause it’s Friday. And you guys have to go to
bed afterwards, preferably before Daddy gets home.”

“Because we’ll get in trouble?” Morgan asked, scrambling off the couch to follow him when he
lifted the coffee table out of the way. This he placed way off to the side.

“Because I’ll get in trouble,” he said cheerfully. “Riling you babies up this late.”

“Will you really get in trouble?” Peter asked, dropping down from the couch himself now.
“Daddy’s not mean.”

“I’m just joking. I don’t think Daddy would be that upset with me. But we’ll see- just a half hour
and then we’re putting pajamas on and you kids are hitting the hay-” Steve clapped his hands
together, making Morgan squeal with laughter. He grinned at her. Morgan needed someone to be
just as loud and hands on as she was, sometimes. He’d noticed how much she lit up when he was in
one of these moods.

“Can you find me the remote, Petey? We’re going to need some music-”

He put ‘Crazy for You’ on. Madonna always reminded him of Natasha and Natasha always made
him feel like dancing; she had that crazy, unafraid to dance in public energy that he was envious of
and completely uncomfortable with himself. He hoped he’d be able to channel her. “Okay- we
don’t even have to be good at this-”

He made them laugh by moving his arms like Johnny Bravo, showed them some dance moves
from his childhood, let them both do some spins, and then found that by hanging onto each of
them, he could pull them along with the rhythm.

Morgan had that same crazy energy that Natasha had; she alternated between swinging in wide
circles, very invested in making her dress swirl out, and just straight up hopping up and down. She
sang along to the lyrics, messing them up and giggling whenever Steve laughed.

Steve held both of Peter’s hands in his, moving them in a quick box step. He gave a couple of
theatrical flourishes every once in a while, relishing the movement. Once upon a time, he’d really
enjoyed dancing. It had been long ago-

By the time Waterloo had come on, Steve had completely forgotten his plan to keep it demure.
Picking both of them up, he balanced them on his hips, swinging them exaggeratedly and singing
along to the lyrics. He shook his head like a maniac and they clung to him, giggling helplessly
when he sang the ‘woah, woah, woah’ part of the song. He rotated-

And Mr. Stark was there. “Oh sh-”

“Hi, honey, I’m home,” Mr. Stark said loudly, grinning at him like the Cheshire cat and effectively
cutting him off before he finished the swear.

“Daddy,” the kids hollered, tumbling out of Steve’s arms and running for Mr. Stark. He was
beaming at them. “Daddy, we were dancing,” Morgan said. “It was fun,” Peter added.

Steve was pretty sure he was as red as Mr. Stark’s tie. He dove for the remote, turning down the
volume by nearly half of where it had been. “We, uh, lost track of time-”

“Where on earth did you pick up those moves, Captain?” Mr. Stark asked, his smirk still evident in
his features. “I’m pretty sure they don’t teach that in the Army or I would have joined up-”

“No, no,” he said breathlessly. “They would have hated this in the army- I shouldn’t have gotten
them wound up like this-”

“Here I was afraid you guys wouldn’t be awake by the time I got home,” Mr. Stark said cheerfully,
loosening his tie. “Guess there was no chance of that.”

“Can we stay up more?” Morgan asked.

“No, baby, it’s past 9- wow- Let’s get you ready for bed-”

“I’ll come up with you,” Mr. Stark said. “You can tell me about your dancing while you take a
bath.” They groaned but hung on to him. Steve had the feeling that they would have agreed to root
canals if it meant being with their dad. He turned off the television and followed them up, not sure
if he was superfluous or not. “Can you get the tub filled?” Mr. Stark asked. “I’ll get them
undressed and then I really should change if I’m helping with this operation. Hard to kneel in a
three piece suit- though not impossible-”

“Uh, yeah-” Why did Steve always feel like he’d been hit with the stupid stick every time his
employer was in the room? The thought of Mr. Stark on his knees was doing things to him that
were decidedly inconvenient-

“Steve!” There was Peter at his elbow. He blinked, taxiing down onto solid ground with a painful
bump. “I like dancing.”

Steve kissed his forehead before lifting him into the tub. “Enough to take lessons?”
“No. I only want to dance with you. And Daddy.”

“And Morgan?” Steve asked, leaning onto the side of the tub.

“And Morgan-”

“What about me?” Morgan asked. Mr. Stark carried her into the room and lowered her into the tub
with good grace. He patted Steve on the back as he left. Steve’s shoulder tingled where he’d been
touched. He shook himself alert. “I think we should dance more,” he said to her.

She nodded quickly. “Daddy used to dance,” she confided in him. “Remember Peter?”

“Daddy was a good dancer.”

Steve hummed. His heart was still beating fast, probably from all their dancing together. He
dumped some of their sailboats into the tub with them. He needed to get a grip on himself. The
kids were with him and in a couple of minutes, their dreamboat dad was going to join them, and he,
Steve, was an adult, who could definitely behave himself…
 Chapter 6

Steve had been worried that Mr. Stark was going to continue to make comments to him while they
were working side by side; caught up in his feelings, he thought he was going to definitely make a
fool of himself in that case- but he needn’t have worried.

Mr. Stark came back, dressed in sweatpants and an old band t-shirt, knelt beside him on the
bathmat, and proceeded to spend the entire time listening to Morgan and Peter fill him in on their
week. Like it was the only thing that mattered to him in the whole world.

And it was.

Steve washed their hair, scrubbed Peter’s back with the loofah, and dried Morgan off when they
were both finally falling asleep in the suds, the water growing steadily lukewarm.

She was essentially boneless when he carried her into her room. Pete was still awake. Mr. Stark
wrapped a towel around him and set him on Morgan’s bed. “Is she out? You finally found
something that tires her out-”

“I can hold her if you want to dress her-”

Pete was blinking at them when they finally wrangled her into footed pajamas, tucked her in, and
Mr. Stark had given her kisses. “Now me?” he asked.

“Now you,” Mr. Stark agreed, scooping him up. “Captain, I’ve got this one- you’ve earned a
break-”

And Steve blinked, halting on the landing. “Oh, yeah-” But he didn’t want a break, he liked putting
the kids to bed, especially when Mr. Stark joined them-

“Steve,” Pete called insistently, hanging over Mr. Stark’s shoulder. “You didn’t give me my kiss.”

He felt flustered. In truth, he’d spent much of the past week and a half giving them kisses and he
knew that he shouldn’t have. “Ah, bud,” he mumbled. Mr. Stark had turned on his heel. “I don’t
know-”

“Does Steve give good goodnight kisses?” Mr. Stark murmured to Peter.

The five year old flopped in his arms. “Yes. It keeps the monsters away.”

“Don’t my kisses do that?” Mr. Stark sounded surprisingly confused and- was Steve imagining this
or was he really in trouble?- a little hurt.

“Yes, but I need both.”

“Ah. Captain, you’re not off the hook yet, apparently. My apologies-” He motioned Steve into the
room. Steve hung out on the threshold, his forehead pinched with worry. “What about on the
nights where I can’t put you to bed?” Mr. Stark asked. “Do you feel safe on those nights?” He laid
Peter down, beginning to rub his stomach with the towel.

Peter starfished on the bed, humming happily. He didn’t know what he was doing to them, Steve
thought. He forced himself to walk over to the closet, grabbing pullups and Pete’s dinosaur
pajamas. He could hear them talking behind him. “Steve says you come give me kisses after I fall
asleep.”

There was a pause. “That’s right.”

“So everything’s fine.”

Mr. Stark took the pullup from Steve, working it up Pete’s legs. “I’m sorry I miss so many
bedtimes, honey.”

There wasn’t an answer. Pete was clearly drifting asleep, one hand already creeping up towards his
face. Steve grabbed the hand; they were going to have to work on the thumb sucking one of these
days. “He doesn’t mean any criticism, Mr. Stark.”

“He’s honest,” Mr. Stark said lightly. “Good thing you stuck around- sorry, I thought you were
done for the night. Can you help? Just that it makes it easier to stuff him into these pants-”

“I’m intruding tonight,” Steve said helplessly, picking Peter up, one hand under his bum, the other
around his chest, holding him upright.

Mr. Stark had a faraway expression on his face but at Steve’s words, his face cleared- the features
sharpened and he seemed suddenly aware of his surroundings. “No, Captain,” he said, flashing him
a tiny smile. “I need to do better. Thanks for reminding me.”

And there was nothing Steve could do to convince him otherwise, apparently. As soon as they had
him dressed, Steve folded Peter into a brief hug, kissing the crown of his head. “Here’s Daddy,” he
said softly, despite the fact that the five year old was out cold, transferring Pete to Mr. Stark’s arms
and positively scrambling to his feet.

“Captain-”

There was something speculative in Mr. Stark’s eyes, that curiosity that Steve had never failed to
notice, that he loved- “Mr. Stark?”

There was a turning of his lips, a quirk of a smile, a sadness- “I don’t mind that you give them
kisses. Dismiss that thought from your head, please.”

Steve opened his mouth to argue. Closed it. “Yes, sir,” he said.

“Have a good night, Cap. You’ve earned it.”

And leaning against the bedroom door after he’d closed it behind him, Steve didn’t know what to
think. He headed for his room, changing out of his button down and dress pants, swapping these
for his own pair of sweatpants. He paced in the room, and ended up deciding that he couldn’t sleep,
not just yet.

Finding a shirt, he stole down the back stairs and through the kitchen. Past the dining room and
then- he didn’t know what to do exactly.

He looked around the library, touched the chess pieces set up by one of the armchairs tentatively,
and sighed.

He’d hidden one of his sketchpads in the library a couple of days prior, rather inadvertently- he’d
been sketching and Jarvis had happened upon him- This, he took out as well as a pen. He sat at Mr.
Stark’s desk, flipping idly through the pages.
Before his shift in employment, he’d been caught up in replicating Magritte sketches, interrupted
occasionally by old movie scenes and still lifes of flowers. Lately, he’d been sketching brunettes,
ducks at the park, trees, his mom cooking at the stove… It was a weird shift that he couldn’t quite
account for.

He started sketching anew, sketching the chess pieces for lack of inspiration.

When he’d sketched out most of the different types of pieces, he put his pen down. He knew what
was keeping him up tonight- he did feel bad about Peter’s bedtime request, despite what Mr. Stark
had said- and he should fix it.

Putting his sketchbook under his arm, he got up. Steve eased out of the library. The house was
quiet around him; everyone seemed to be in bed, but he had his suspicions. He squared his
shoulders outside the lab door, wondering if he was overstepping his boundaries. Never sure where
the line was. He knocked.

Moments later, the door opened with a jerk. “Oh, it’s you,” Mr. Stark said in some surprise. “You
don’t have to knock- the doors unlocked.”

“I didn’t know if…” He trailed off, following the mechanic into the room. Right. He was starting
off this conversation, already doubting himself. “I wanted to talk about the kids.”

Mr. Stark eyed him wearily. “Yes, Captain?”

He paused. Now that he was looking the other man in the eye, he had the feeling his intended
conversation would do more harm than good. He changed tact. “Is there a reason for the way their
schedule is right now?” Steve asked in a rush. He winced. That wasn’t how he meant to say it. “I
mean, is it flexible?”

“Thinking about putting Morgan in night school?”

“Yeah, I was thinking she might get a job at the local grocery store and continue her schooling on
the side-”

Mr. Stark grinned, beginning to tighten a bolt on whatever it was that he was working on. “What
was your actual idea?”

Steve thought about how the week had gone. Now was as good a time as any. “I was thinking of
switching Morgan’s days to Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday. And keeping Pete’s days Monday,
Wednesday, and Friday.”

“Miss them when they’re gone? I’d have thought you’d like some mornings off,” Mr. Stark said
cheerfully.

“I was thinking that it would give me the chance to have some one on one time with each of them,”
he said softly.

Mr. Stark glanced up at him. “Alright,” he said.

“Alright? That’s it?” Steve had a whole argument planned out in his head, carefully prepared to
explain why this was needed, why it was necessary.

“I think it’s a good idea. If it doesn’t work, we can always switch it back.” He rubbed his hands on
a cloth. “I assume you want to switch Morgan’s days because she has an easier time making
friends?”
Steve didn’t bother to point out that Morgan’s teachers had confided in him that she often didn’t
have friends in class. Her bossy and overbearing attitude was carrying over to school. Mr. Stark got
the gist of it. “I think it would be easier for her to shift. And Pete’s got a friend in his class.”

“Ned,” Mr. Stark said lightly. Steve snapped his head up. “You don’t think I know my kids’ best
friends?” the mechanic asked, tipping his head.

“It’s not that-”

But it was. For all that Steve knew Mr. Stark tried, the kids still craved his attention, his time.
They got to see him in the mornings and at most dinners, but there was so many hours in between
when Miss Potts was whisking him away or worse, his business partner Obie was with him- Steve
thought that Obie was odious- and the mechanic seemed to be getting pulled in all directions.

“I know you work a lot,” he said softly. “But if you ever wanted to come with me, when I have the
babies…” He trailed off. That was stupid. He was inviting Mr. Stark to spend time with his own
children.

“Do I neglect them, Captain?”

“No, I didn’t mean-”

“I’m looking for your honest opinion. I’m not angry.”

He looked up at his employer. “You seem really tired,” he said. “I worry about you too. And I
think the kids would love to see you more. But no. I don’t think that you are capable of neglecting
them.”

Mr. Stark laid down the tool in his hand, putting it on the desk. “My father never wanted to have
children,” he told Steve. “He wanted a legacy. An heir. He wasn’t a very good father. I put off
having kids for years. I was afraid I’d be just like him. I still wonder…”

“You’re a good dad. The babies adore you.”

Mr. Stark hummed. “The babies love you.”

Steve waved a hand. “They’ve only known me two weeks,” he said dismissively.

“We wanted to have a whole houseful of children,” Mr. Stark said next, surprising Steve with his
candidness. “That’s why Pete and Morgan are so close in age. I had this plan to have like four kids-
wouldn’t that have been ridiculous?- and pull back from my work. I think in another life, I would
have been very happy being a stay at home dad.”

He seemed to realize that he’d said too much, or more than he’d intended to, at any rate. “Good
thing I only had the two. Given how I struggle to meet their needs. Four would have stretched me
pretty thin. Would have stretched you pretty thin, actually-”

“Two’s good for right now,” Steve said without thinking.

Mr. Stark laughed outright at that. “I’m not spending my nights wining and dining, that’s for sure.
So it’s going to be two for quite some time.”

“I should probably go-”

“I like talking to you, Captain. You’re always welcome here.”

He looked up. “You’re never going to stop calling me ‘captain,’ are you?” he asked, smiling
faintly. “You know I’m not in the army any more.”

“It lends you a certain amount of dignity.”

“Oh god-”

“Which you immediately lose when you dance-”

“How long were you watching me dance like that?”

“Not long enough,” Mr. Stark said cheerfully. He rolled his shoulders. “You’re not going to leave
us, are you, Captain? Only, the household has been so much happier with you in it.”

He blinked. Just when he expected Mr. Stark to zig, he always zagged. “I would never alter a
preschool schedule if I wasn’t dedicated to the cause, Mr. Stark.”

“Admirable.”

“They tell me that the babies are super smart- they must have gotten some of your latent genius.
Peter’s reading at a second grade level and Morgan can do addition and subtraction up to twenty-
it’s insane-”

Dumping out a pile of papers, Mr. Stark wordlessly brought over a stool. He gestured to Steve to sit
down. Steve climbed on without thinking about it. “So tomorrow you have your first real day off,”
Mr. Stark said cheerfully. “Any fun plans? Going out on some big date? You’re living for both of
us, you know-”

“I’m going to see some of my friends,” Steve said, shaking his head and smiling. “I haven’t told
them about my change of careers yet.” He almost invited Mr. Stark and then swiftly rejected the
idea. That would have been stupid, he decided. ‘You don’t even call him by his first name,’ he
chided himself.

“Friends can be good. I miss mine.”

“You haven’t seen them in a while?”

“Well… Pep, I do get to see every day but that’s because we work together. My friend Rhodey,
he’s stationed elsewhere right now-”

“He’s in the army?” Steve asked, surprised. He hadn’t expected that.

“Yes, a marine. I could call Happy though. I haven’t seen him in a while since he switched to
Pepper’s side of the operation-”

“You should call your friends,” Steve said gently. “When I first came back from deployment, I let
myself get really isolated. It’s hard sometimes- reaching out- but you deserve to have some fun.
You work a lot-” He cut himself off with difficulty.

“Maybe I will, Captain.”

“Good.” And Steve felt looser again, calmer, even though the conversation had not gone even
remotely the way he’d planned. Sliding off the stool, he straightened himself. “I’m going to bed.
The babies tired me out this week.”

Mr. Stark offered him a hand. Steve took it, surprised, giving him a little shake. “Goodnight,
Captain.”

“Goodnight, Mr. Stark. This time for real.”

 Chapter 7

“You’re a what-?”

“Sam, shut up.”

“You already knew, didn’t you?”

“Guys-”

Steve had been late all day long.

He hadn’t been kidding when he’d told his employer the kids had tired him out the past week. He
slept in, Saturday morning, and god, he hadn’t intended to do that.

It had been the sun that had first woken him up, bursting into his room and slicing across his face.
He’d turned over and slept another two hours, waking up at noon, feeling entirely disoriented. It
seemed like he’d just caught up on all the sleep he’d missed in the past year.

“What-? Why-?” he’d asked, looking at his alarm clock. He had scrambled into the shower, shaved
in a hurry, and dressed even quicker- a gray henley pulled over jeans.

The babies weren’t there. Miss Potts wasn’t in. Mr. Stark wasn’t in his office, nor the lab. He was
beginning to wonder if he’d slept a hundred years and jumped forward into some strange alien
world where no one knew him when he ran into the butler. “Jarvis, I could kiss you,” he’d said
hoarsely. His panic had been ticking up.

“I’m sorry, Captain Rogers, but I’m spoken for.”

This had startled a laugh out of Steve. “Where is everyone?” he asked. “I don’t know why I slept
this late- I never sleep this late-”

“I suspect that Mr. Stark might have turned off your alarm. He tends to interfere in matters as he
sees fit. As for the whereabouts of this house’s occupants- they went to the zoo.”

“Mr. Stark went to the zoo? Really?”

“With my wife in attendance. I believe Miss Morgan wanted to bring you with them, but we
convinced her that you deserved your day off. Here, I made lunch-”

And Steve didn’t even know how he’d spent the day, just that he’d run from activity to activity,
always a little behind, never quite getting everything done that he’d needed to get done. It had been
fun. It had been a little strange.

He’d made it work, he felt.

Until he’d looked at his watch and realized that he was going to be late for meeting his friends.
Yelping, he’d taken two subway cars and ran half a block, nearly knocking into a waitress halfway
across the dive bar they’d agreed upon-

His friends had watched this with great glee- it was visible even from across the room, under the
dim lights. And now-

“I’m a nanny,” he said, taking a sip from his beer.

“You’re a nanny,” Sam repeated, looking like Christmas and his birthday had arrived early,
blessing him with gifts beyond compare. “I’m sorry, my weightlifting, former Marine, brother from
another mother-”

“Sam-”

“Is a full time stay at home daddy for hire?” Sam looked at Bucky. He looked at Natasha. “Why
am I the only one excited for Steve? Come on, show him some love-” He began to hassle Bucky.
Bucky pushed him off, smacking his hand.

Bucky was watching Natasha. “Did you do this to him?” Steve scoffed. She shook her head. “He
did it himself.”

“And you’ve been doing this for two weeks? Dude, I thought we were friends.” Sam bumped
shoulders with him. “This is why you’ve been texting less,” he said, wagging a finger at Steve.

Steve pushed the finger away, grinning at Sam. “Don’t give me that, like the two of you have
noticed…”

“Just because Buck’s riding the Black Stallion doesn’t mean that he doesn’t care-”

“What the alleged Black Stallion means,” Bucky said, swatting at Sam, “is that we’ve been a little
caught up, but we should have checked in more. I didn’t even know you’d lost your job. That
sucks.”

“Brock replaced me with Sharon, can you believe that?” Steve motioned for another round from
the bar. “What a dick-”

“The worst-”

“I always said that he was a douchebag-”

“Okay, okay, start from the beginning-”

And he ran them through it- the argument at the art gallery, the chemical supply company job, the
misunderstanding, how much of a fiasco the gala had been, and the past two weeks. He was
probably telling them more than they wanted to know, but he didn’t care. It was nice to have
something new to talk about. These past few years he’d felt a bit aimless. His friends getting
together, moving into nicer apartments, taking trips. He’d been stuck in the past, remembering
what had happened in the army. But now-

“You know, for as much as we give you shit, you are great with kids,” Bucky said fairly. He
tapped his prosthetic arm meditatively. “We keep telling you that,” he added, giving Steve a
pointed look.

“It’s nice to have somebody’s kids to take care of,” he said lowly, rubbing the back of his neck.
“I’m never going to have babies of my own.”

“Oh, come on-” Bucky threw a straw at him.

“Things are really over with you and Sharon then?” He nodded.

It was funny. When Sharon had broken up with him originally, he’d felt like someone had pulled
his heart in half. And working at the art gallery had just kept her on his mind. But he hadn’t
thought of her at all in the past two weeks. He’d been too busy.
Sam poked him. “We should find you someone new. We should do that tonight-” He sat up,
scanning the room. “Alright, there’s a hot chica by the pool table or, or- there’s a guy at the bar that
looks like he could be fun- dumb, but fun-”

“No, leave him alone,” Natasha said, breaking in at last. She’d been remarkably quiet through this
entire conversation. Her eyes were on him. “Steve’s good all on his own.”

Both of the other men swung their heads to look at her. Steve had left one detail out- he hadn’t said
anything about his crush on Mr. Stark. Natasha had definitely noticed. He blushed, looking down
instead of meeting her eyes. “Of course he is,” Sam said. “But it could be fun for him to get down
with someone, doesn’t have to mean more than it is-”

“Are you okay?” Bucky asked, reaching across Sam and grabbing Steve’s hand.

Steve smiled, interlacing fingers with his best friend. “Of course I am. But Nat’s right- I’m not
really looking, right now. Just want to see my friends. Have some fun. Hear all about your crazy
lives.”

Bucky was gazing at him. He had a way of x-raying Steve, seeing all the things that Steve didn’t
want to talk about. He wasn’t going to be able to keep his secret for long. It didn’t matter- his
friends would be supportive.

Bucky tapped Natasha, turning away from Steve briskly, like he’d figured it all out. “Come play
pool with me,” he said. “Winner buys the next round.”

“Fair enough.”

“Hey, Steve, I’m sorry, man.” Sam slung an arm around Steve, pulling him close.

Steve shook his head, wrinkling his eyes by smiling. Giving him a one armed hug, he kissed Sam
on the cheek. “Don’t be sorry- seriously. I know you want me to have fun. I’m having fun. Also,
there’s like a super case of gonorrhea going around right now-? Haven’t you been paying attention
to the adverts on the subway lately? Probably not the best time to hook up in either direction-”

“You’re smiling a lot more these days, man.”

He blinked. “Am I?” he asked, bemused. “Didn’t I smile before?”

“Of course you did. You’re always this funny, happy guy. Just- I’m happy to see you like this.”

And Steve almost told Sam about his employer at that moment, except some small part of him
wanted to hold it back. Cause Mr. Stark was never going to be interested in him (he’d had a wife
for god’s sake, Steve!) and Sam might have something to say about the way that Mr. Stark teased
him by flirting (Sam was very protective of Steve, knowing what had happened to him before), or
else, maybe Steve was reading into it the wrong way. Any way he looked at it, he was probably
going to get his heart broken in the end. But these early days… these could be fun…

“Come dance with me,” he suggested, yanking on Sam’s sleeve. “Look at those two- they’re going
to be deadlocked for most of the night-”

“Alright. I’ll never say no to an attractive blond-”

And dancing with Sam made him think of dancing with the babies the night before and dancing
with them had reminded him of Natasha and Natasha made him feel safe, so really, as long as Steve
kept dancing, everything was going to be alright. He sang Dolly’s part of the duet playing to Sam,
ignoring the looks they were generating, and Sam played the role of Kenny, and Steve- Steve was
happy.

And that was a nice change of pace.

 Chapter 8

Natasha brought him home with her cause he didn’t want to come stumbling into the Stark
household, smelling like vodka and Sam’s cologne, at three in the morning.

“I’m not even that drunk,” he said, “to be fair. I had two beers tonight. Bucky spilled his drink on
me.”

“You’d deny me my Steve sleepovers?” she asked, hanging on to his arm. “No, we’re cuddling
tonight. You’re going to keep me warm. The nights are cold.”

“Will you rub my feet?” he asked, unapologetic as all get out.

“You know it’s no wonder the others thought we were dating when you first introduced us all.”
She dropped her keys. “Don’t at me. I’m not drunk either. I just always drop my keys.”

“I know you do.”

He sighed happily when they finally got into her townhouse. He began shedding clothes, dropping
his jeans in the front entranceway (“the door wasn’t even completely closed yet, Steve”) and
dropping his coat over her catchall chair. “Do you have ice cream?” he asked, heading for her
kitchen. He chirruped at Sonny and Spartacus- only one of them wanted to be pet, but that was
okay-

“So I’m rubbing your gross feet and you’re eating my ice cream?”

“I’d do for you.” He found her good chocolate chip ice cream and began scooping. “And my feet
aren’t gross,” he added. “I’m a gay man.”

“You’re bi. The straight part of you cancels out the gay part.”

“So… I have no personality-?” She flicked him. “I wash my feet. I don’t piss in the shower. Well-
rarely. But I change my socks every day. Just give me five good minutes.”

“I’m only doing this cause I don’t like going to bed right after coming home,” she said, sitting on
one end of the couch. “And cause you got me my own bowl of ice cream. I didn’t have to beg.”

He draped his feet in her lap. “I’m going to sleep so good tonight,” he said lazily, spooning ice
cream into his mouth. “Got shitfaced. Going to get chip-faced. Ask your questions,” he added.

“You didn’t tell them about your big crush.”

“That wasn’t phrased as a question.”

“It wasn’t a question. Just an observation. Afraid to ruin a good thing?” She found a pressure point.
He groaned.

“What good thing? Nothing’s going to come of it.”

“You sell yourself short.” She caressed his ankles. “I have Thursday off this week. Think Tony will
mind if I join you during your work day?” She picked up her ice cream bowl.

“You know, it’s strange that you call him ‘Tony’ when I don’t.”
“He told me to call him Tony. He probably told you as well.”

“He calls me ‘captain’ all the time. What do you think that means?”

“He’s got a military kink,” she said bluntly. He wheezed with laughter, curling up on his side. His
laugh made her laugh; this pleased Steve. He pressed the heel of his foot into her hip bone, trying
to find the ticklish part of her side with his toes. She swatted him away.

“He won’t mind if you’re there. He already seems to like you more than me-” She poked him
sharply. “I’ll have the kids with me.”

“I like seeing you with the kids.” He hummed. Opening his arms, he gestured her closer, using
gimme hands. “No- we’ll end up sleeping on the couch, Steve. We’re too old for that now. Put your
ice cream away. We’re going to bed. And these boxers leave nothing to the imagination, by the
way. Don’t wear them around the kids.”

“I always wear pants at the house,” he said. He gathered their bowls, stuck them in the freezer, and
then swept her off her feet. “I don’t deserve you,” he said, pressing kisses to her forehead. “Sure
you don’t want me in the guestroom? With my obtuse boxers?”

“No, I deserve my cuddles. Promise me you’ll never stop cuddling me.”

“Never,” he swore.

“Good.”

She got in on the side of the bed farthest from the door and he tumbled down after her, slinging an
arm around her middle. “Get closer,” he mumbled. Shifting, they ended up tangled up in the
middle. “Mm, you’re warm,” he sighed. He rubbed her back, holding her close, and rested his
forehead against hers. “I love you, Nat.”

She sighed, sounding fond. “For what it’s worth, I love you, Steve.”

He woke up Sunday morning to the smell of bacon frying and an extra blanket draped over his
shoulders.

“I’m using your body wash,” he yelled down the stairs. “You can’t stop me!”

He laughed his way through the shower (really, he shouldn’t dance in the tub, but that’s where he
liked to dance the most), washed himself off with her body wash (this one smelled like gardenias
and he felt rather pretty), and borrowed some of her shampoo (honey? Why though Nat?), but he
did draw the line at brushing his teeth with her toothbrush.

She was less than impressed at his chivalry, pushing him down into his usual seat at her table.
“You’re going to buy me a chai latte after this and we’re going to walk over to the Met.”

“Happy to-”

Morgan was waiting for him on the staircase when he got home that night. “Hi, baby,” he said
brightly, hanging up his coat. “I missed you.”

“Daddy! He’s home!”

She let him sweep her up in his arms, giggling when he rocked back and forth, swaying with her
across the entranceway. “Did you miss me?” he asked. “Is that why you’re waiting up? I’d have
thought you’d be playing. It’s almost bedtime.”

“Both of the kids missed ‘their Steve’,” a familiar voice said from behind him.

Steve grinned at the eldest Stark. “Did they? I’ve only been gone one weekend.”

“Weekends are long without our captain,” Mr. Stark said, fiddling with his sweatshirt.

“You smell like a lady,” Morgan interrupted, actually sniffing Steve’s neck like a bloodhound.
“Like flowers. That’s not the right smell, Steve.”

“You’re just used to my cologne.” He put her on the ground. “I stayed over my friend Natasha’s
house this weekend,” he explained, caressing her hair. “I used her bath stuff. So you’re right. I
smell like her now, I guess. Where’s Peter?”

“He’s in the kitchen. We’re making you a surprise.”

‘Cookies,’ Mr. Stark mouthed at Steve. “Run ahead, Mo. Tell Pete we’ve found our missing
housemate. If the cookies are inedible, Captain, you’re not contractually obligated to eat them. But
Jarvis runs a pretty tight ship. With a little luck, he’s on top of things.”

“I’m sure they’ll be fine,” he said with a laugh. He almost told the mechanic that he’d missed him
too, but that would have been stupid of him. “How was the zoo?”

“Oh, the kids want to tell you all about it. We had fun. Hardly any tears.”

“Any high speed chases?”

“Surprisingly no.” Mr. Stark paused in front of the dining room. “Was this your friend Natasha you
were with this weekend?”

He was surprised the mechanic even remembered her name with everything that was going on in
his life. “Yeah. Yeah, we went to a bar Saturday night with my other friends, Bucky and Sam-
they’re dating- and got out kind of late. I didn’t want to wake everyone up. Natasha and I have been
having ‘sleepovers’ since before I got out of the army. They’re not really sleepovers. She’s just a
good friend,” he added quickly, wondering why he was saying all of this. Mr. Stark didn’t care
about what he did on his days off.

“Nobody got much sleep,” Mr. Stark surmised succinctly.

“Yeah, no. Well, some. At like… 4 in the morning? I liked spending time with them, of course, but
I did miss you and the babies,” he said through a yawn. “I’m glad you had fun.”

“Yeah,” Mr. Stark said, sounding distracted. “Come on, can’t keep them waiting. I’ll clock you in,
even-”
 Chapter 9

“There he is- Stark’s new-”

“He really goes out with the kids then? Seems like such an elaborate ruse when I heard that-”

“I can believe that Stark would hire one of those but I wouldn’t trust him with his kids, it makes
you wonder why a grown man would want to take care of children that weren’t his unless…”

He turned around at that one, holding each of the kids’ hands in his. “Pardon me?” he called, fixing
his eyes on the woman that had just been talking. He feigned ignorance. “Were you talking to me-
?”

She had the audacity to look surprised. “Excuse me?” she said back.

He made a motion towards his own throat. “Your voice is a bit shrill- extensive surgery will do
that sometimes- and it carries. I don’t know if you know. I can hear you.” He flashed a grin at her.
She looked like someone had cracked an egg over her head. “Come on, kids. One more block.”

Taking their hands again, he tugged them along. They fell in beside him easily; Morgan was
looking behind her. “Leave Steve alone!” she yelled over her shoulder. “You’re mean!”

He shouldn’t have lost his temper, not in front of the kids especially, but he couldn’t help it. He
was tired of listening to the gossip mill each morning when he walked the kids over to their school,
tired of them hearing what these old biddies were saying, old bitches who were probably married to
the men at the gala who had also thought that Steve was some kind of trophy for Mr. Stark.
Everyone wanted to gossip. Everyone had an opinion.

And the opinion was that he must be some kind of boy toy or worse yet, a pervert? Someone who
was sleeping with Mr. Stark for his money or for access to his children. The second one made
Steve honestly sick to his stomach.

“Steve, were they talking about you?” Peter asked tentatively.

He took a deep breath in. “They might have been.”

“Why do they call you Daddy’s toy?” Morgan asked on his other side. “Daddy doesn’t play with
you. You’re friends.”

“Sometimes adults can be mean to each other,” he said softly. “They like to talk about each other
behind people’s backs if they don’t have something nice to say in front of them. Don’t listen to
those people. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“We’re just going to rise above it,” he said tersely. He’d been having a good morning. “So what are
we going to remember in preschool today?” he asked, moving on.

They thought about it. “Ask for help,” Peter offered.

“Take turns,” Morgan added after a minute.

“Tell the teacher if…?”

“Someone’s being mean.”

“You don’t understand!”

“Oh, you guys are so smart,” he said, his heart full of emotions he didn’t understand. “Right,
Morgan?” She nodded, swinging from his arm. “Right, Pete?” Pete nodded too. Steve bent at the
waist, pressing them to him in a hug. “Okay, babies. I’ll be here at 1 to pick you up. Have fun.”

He walked them to their classrooms. Morgan shrugged her way out of her bag and dropped it and
her coat on the ground. “We’re working on that,” he told her teacher cheerfully, hanging it up in
her cubby.

Pete was next. He’d already caught sight of Ned. Visibly excited, he stood on his tiptoes, giving
Steve a brief hug around the waist. He handed Steve his bag and coat, practically vibrating with
excitement. “Can I-?”

“Yeah. Have fun, buddy-”

And Pete was off, dashing towards Ned. Steve could already hear the two of them talking, their
little voices loud and excited. He dawdled by the door, watching them with bright interest.

“Back again, Mr. Rogers?” Peter’s teacher said with bright enthusiasm. “Peter talks about you
quite a bit.”

He tilted his head. “Does he? We’ve only known each other a little while.”

“You’ve stayed the longest so far,” she said speculatively.

“That’s insane.”

“I agree. I hear his sister has quite the personality.”

Steve felt a rush of protectiveness. Morgan was loud and exuberant and she knew what she wanted,
but she wasn’t a bad girl. It wasn’t her fault she’d had so much turnover this past year. “They’ve
both been through a lot,” he said mildly. Peter’s teacher just nodded. Steve hung up Pete’s bag.
“You have my number if anything comes up.” He waved one last time at Peter.

On the way to the office, he peeked into Morgan’s classroom. She was sitting by herself at one of
the little tables, scribbling away in a coloring book. It made his heart ache. He didn’t know if she
was lonely or not, but he felt lonely just watching her. “Could I give her one more hug?” he
whispered, finding the older woman who led Morgan’s classroom watching him. She shrugged,
letting him into the room.

He tiptoed over to Morgan, putting a finger to his lips when she looked up. She beamed at him,
throwing her arms wide and he knelt down, wrapping his arms around her little body. “I needed one
more hug. You have fun today, honey. I can’t wait to hear about your day.”

“It’s going to be fun,” she said to him, looking up into his eyes. “You tell me about your day!”

“I will. I’ve got to go now- looks like morning meeting is starting. Bye, baby.” He watched her sit
on the rug in between a little girl with an afro and a boy in overalls. Morgan started up a
conversation immediately, just to be shushed. He stepped out into the hall.

Sighing, he made his way down to the front office. He explained the need for a change in hours for
Morgan’s schedule, bought himself a coffee on the corner, and wandered past the townhouse.
He’d taken to walking in the mornings, unused to so much time for himself. He found a little cafe
and sat, sketching the streets around him.

At the gala he hadn’t really cared about what the old guys had said about him. He hadn’t liked it,
definitely felt some of the shame that stigma brought with it, but it had rolled off of him. They
hadn’t felt real- he’d only known Tony Stark one night. Who honestly would believe they were
already in some kind of relationship? These accusations were worse somehow.

Unbidden, he remembered what had happened right before his discharge. Getting to his feet, he
nearly knocked over his coffee. He grabbed it reflexively and dug his phone out of his pocket.
“Sam…? Hey.” He swept his hair out of his eyes. “You still running those groups?”

“Yeah, man. Why don’t you come down? Starts at 10 and I’ll buy you lunch afterwards.”

He took a breath in. “I don’t know,” he said dubiously. “My problem is a little different from most
vets…”

“I won’t call on you,” Sam said knowingly. “You could just listen.”

“I’d have to be back at the school for 1,” he said, throwing his coffee cup away. “Maybe the diner
next to the VA afterwards.”

“Are you having those thoughts again?” Sam asked quietly.

“Just- just a little.” He inhaled. “It’s not as overwhelming as before.”

“Will you get in trouble if you come?”

“No. No, they really don’t track what I do when the kids are in school. It’s weird…”

“So you will be fine. Come on, Steve. I like seeing your big dumb face.”

“Okay. I’m actually feeling better though. It was just a…” He shrugged. His heartrate had spiked,
now it was dropping down again. He still felt out of sorts. He had enough awareness of himself to
know that he’d called Sam for a reason. “I’ll come. I’m walking over now.”
 Chapter 10
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

“Can we sleep in here tonight?”

“No, honey.”

“Why not? We sleep in Daddy’s bed sometimes.”

Steve blinked at her, trying to think about what the right response would be to this. He wasn’t
equipped to have the sex talk with a four year old, nor was he prepared to explain about pedophilia
or reputations or anything else. “I’m not your daddy though. You can share a bed with family
members.”

“Daddy says we’re supposed to treat you like family,” Peter piped up from Steve’s other side.

“Did he?” Steve’s stomach twisted pleasurably at the thought. He didn’t know why it warmed him
from within. Just that it did. “That’s nice but I think everyone would sleep better in their own beds.
But we can read one more story. Just one,” he added firmly, because Morgan looked like she was
going to argue with him. “Decide together.”

They crawled over his legs, spreading out the books on the bottom of the bed. Steve sighed
happily. He, for one, was looking forward to bed. He was exhausted. Already in his sweatpants, he
stretched out, rubbing his socked feet together.

It was raining outside. Pouring actually. Steve liked the noise, liked how warm he felt inside his
room. His apartment had never felt like this. He hoped he was doing a good enough job that Mr.
Stark would decide to keep him. His lease ran out at the apartment at the end of the month and he
didn’t want to go back to it.

“Steve!”

“Mm? Did you pick a book?”

“Yes, we picked this one.” Morgan thumped it down on his chest. He picked it up, turning it over
so that he could see the cover. They crowded him, jamming into his armpits. Pete clung to his side,
his little hand clutching Steve’s shirt as though he was going to run away.

“This is a good choice,” he murmured. “Isn’t this Petey’s favorite book?”

“That’s why we picked it,” Morgan said, pleased.

He squeezed her gently. “You’re so sweet.”

“Me too?” Pete raised his head sleepily. Steve smoothed over his hair, running his fingers over
Pete’s scalp in the way that he knew he loved. “Especially you. Alright, let’s do this…” He
yawned.

“Are you sleepy too?”

“Just a little bit.”

“Daddy could read.”

He laid the book on his stomach, cuddling them both to him. He liked how warm they were, the
way their little bodies fit beside him. How easy they were to hold. He really did think he would
have been a good dad. He roused himself- he still had to read. “I think Daddy’s still a little busy,
honey.”

“No, Daddy’s right there,” Morgan said, laughing. She pointed to the door.

Steve turned his head slowly. He had to grin. There was his boss, leaning against his door jamb,
hands in his pockets. Steve had to wonder at the kids’ preternatural abilities sometimes to detect
their father.

Mr. Stark looked a little surprised- he’d clearly hadn’t realized he’d been spotted- and to be fair,
Steve hadn’t picked up on the fact that he was there either. “Oh, hey,” he said, suddenly aware of
how shabby his clothes were, how presumptuous it was to have the kids in his room-

“Captain. Looks like you’ve done more than your fair share of reading tonight.” Mr. Stark drifted
into the room; Pete rolled over and crawled into the mechanic’s space, leaning into him with a
happy little sigh. “Should I read?” he asked Pete.

“Yes…”

“Not stepping on your toes, Captain Rogers?”

“Never.”

“Alright.” He patted Pete on the bum. “Go lay back down with our captain. You looked very
comfy.” Steve relaxed finally, holding out his arm for Peter. He felt pleasantly heavy, very warm.
Holding the kids always had a way of grounding him. Mr. Stark cocked his head. “Can I sit on
your bed, Captain?”

“Everyone else is,” Steve said amiably. “I don’t see why not. It belongs to you, after all.”

“I might have bought it, but it’s definitely your space,” Mr. Stark said softly, taking a seat on the
edge of the bed. Steve thought that the mechanic looked even more tired, if possible, than he felt.
He wondered what had kept Mr. Stark out of the house tonight.

“You have to do the voices,” Peter piped up, playing with Steve’s fingers.

“And don’t forget to show the pictures,” Morgan added.

“You’d think I never read to them,” Mr. Stark told Steve.

Steve grinned lazily. “They remind me of all of these rules too, if it makes you feel better.”

“It does, thanks. Okay, then-”

For all their criticisms of him, Mr. Stark was evidently very good at reading bedtime stories. Steve
snorted the first time Mr. Stark adopted a higher pitched voice for the female lead and had to stuff
a fist in his mouth to keep from laughing as the different voices carried on.

He was aware that he was falling asleep, even as Mr. Stark began to read. It was the smooth timber
of his normal voice, the small hands playing on his arm- Morgan was tracing shapes onto his arms.
He closed his eyes, starting to drift. (‘Daddy, Steve’s falling asleep-’ and ‘Shh, that’s okay.’)
 He was pretty sure he received some hugs at the end and Mr. Stark’s voice had stopped; he knew
he really should open his eyes again, but his eyelids felt so heavy… Outside the rain came down,
beating a steady timpani rhythm…

It was morning when he woke up next. Someone had taken the heavy quilt out of his closet,
tucking it around him.

He rolled onto his side, letting his surroundings wash into existence around him. Here he was,
laying on top of his normal blankets, where he’d been when the kids had been with him. There
were the books, stacked on his nightstand. Morgan had left her bunny stuffie beside him. It was
5:00am.

He nuzzled his blanket, thinking that he should get up. Still though…

He lifted his head. It was still raining outside, quieter than last night, but persistent. The babies
would be up by seven. He stretched his legs experimentally. He could always take a walk later in
the day, a run if it dried up. Natasha was coming to see them today.

He gave in. Sam had once asked him what would happen if his routine was thrown off, if he
couldn’t do everything just as he’d always had. He hadn’t known what to say at the time.

Today though… Today, he thought it would be okay to take a break.

Chapter End Notes

I'm enjoying the comments on this story, thanks!

 Chapter 11

“We slept in Daddy’s bed last night,” Morgan told Steve over breakfast.

He blinked. “Did you really? Was it fun?” She nodded eagerly.

“I wasn’t sure if there was going to be a thunderstorm on top of all that rain,” Mr. Stark said from
behind his mug of coffee. “Morgan, you kick in your sleep. We’re definitely giving karate a try
with you.” She giggled at him.

“Daddy says we can do sleepovers again. Right, Daddy?” Morgan was eyeing him.

“Yes. Not every night but sometimes I think it would be nice. And I’ll just remember to wear my
cup to bed.”

Morgan had been about to take a sip of her juice. She held the cup up quizzically, looked at Mr.
Stark and then seemed to decide it wasn’t worth it. Pete tugged on Mr. Stark’s shirt sleeve. “Can
Steve join us the next time we have a sleepover?” he asked.

The two men caught each other’s eye. Mr. Stark gave Steve a shit eating grin. “Steve’s welcome in
my bed, but I don’t think I’m his type.” Steve had just taken a gulp of water to cover his facial
expression and he spluttered at this. “No offense, Captain. Pepper does tell me that I need to be
more careful about what I say.”

“I can take it,” Steve said, blotting out the wet spot on the table cloth.

“Am I interrupting something, sir?”

Jarvis had just come out of the kitchen with a basket of warm bread. Steve leaned back. “Mr. Stark
and I were just discussing the possibility of me sleeping in his bed,” he told the butler. Now it was
Mr. Stark’s turn to choke.

“You are his type,” Jarvis said without judgment.

Steve disregarded that completely. “Apparently he’s not mine though. What is my type, Mr.
Stark?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Redheads, I would guess-”

“Huh.” The only redheads he could think of were Natasha and Pepper Potts. Both attractive women
in their own right, but neither particularly interested him. He couldn’t imagine where Mr. Stark
was getting his information. Natasha was like a sister to him and even if she hadn’t been, she
wasn’t interested in any kind of romantic relationship; Pepper, on the other hand, seemed too far
removed, very proper and efficient. He rather liked the opposite, if his crush on his boss was any
indication.

The conversation was clearly flying over the kids’ heads. “I won’t kick you if you do sleep over,”
Morgan promised, giving him some major side eye. “Daddy can sleep like this,” she said, moving
the stuff around on her plate to demonstrate, “and then Peter and I will sleep sideways up here and
you can curl up in the corner like a dog-”

Mr. Stark burst into laughter at that and, after a minute, so did Steve. “We’ll consider this a
maybe,” he told her. “Finish eating. You can play this morning but then my friend is coming over
in the afternoon and I thought we could all do something together.”

“Natasha?” Mr. Stark asked and his voice had lost some of its hilarity.

“Yeah. Is that okay? I could call her-” He should have asked before just making an assumption- but
he’d thought that Mr. Stark liked Natasha and he’d let her help Steve before-

Mr. Stark waved a hand idly. “I said I’d give you carte blanche, captain. The two of you are really
close, then?”

“I like Natasha!” Morgan cheered.

He had to pat the seat to get her to sit down again. “Yes, I knew her from before I was in the army.
She’s been with me through all my ups and downs. I think she’d be a good role model for,” he
jerked his head at the four year old, “both kids if it’s okay.”

“I liked her,” Mr. Stark said thoughtfully. “You’re a lucky guy.”

Something didn’t seem exactly right, but Steve couldn’t quite place what it was. Mr. Stark really
didn’t seem to have a problem with Natasha coming over, but something in his overall tone and
mood had changed when Steve had brought her up. He hoped that the mechanic wasn’t
romantically interested in his friend. That could be awkward.

He’d have to hope for the best.

They were all a little disappointed when Mr. Stark got up shortly after that to head to work.
“Meetings,” he said idly, flashing a smile at Steve. “Pep’s got me in meetings for most of the day.”

Steve had opened his mouth to say that Mr. Stark could join them this afternoon if he wanted; he
closed his mouth again. “See you at dinner?” he asked, getting up and clearing the table of dishes.

“That’s right, Cap. Bye, Mo.” He gave her half a dozen kisses to the side of her mouth. “Bye,
Petey.” He caught Peter up in a one armed hug. “Love you both. Be good for Steve!”

“I’m always good,” Morgan yelled after him. They could hear Mr. Stark laughing from the
entranceway.

Natasha came by before lunch. It had stopped raining hours before and the sun was even
threatening to peek through. Steve let her in at the back door. “We’re about to eat. Sit down,” he
said.

“What’s he making? Gruel?” she asked, waving at the kids. They giggled. She hung up her coat.

“We’re having grilled cheeses,” Morgan said. Steve didn’t have the heart to correct her grammar.
Her tendency to pluralize random words was one of her top ten cute traits. He hoped she’d hang on
to it for a little while longer. Morgan was still talking to Natasha. “Are you going to have one too?”

“I hope so. I’m starving. Hi, Peter.”

“Hi,” he said, rather shyly.

Steve came over to the table, hugging Natasha from behind. “I told you that I love Natasha very
much, right?” They nodded. “Did I tell you that she’s basically my little sister? Just like the two of
you.”

“Did you grow up together?” Peter asked.

She scrunched her nose. “I met Steve when we were teenagers. So I’ve known him for the last
twenty years.”

“How old are you?” Peter asked in wonder.

He laughed outright at that. “I’m in my mid-thirties, sweetie.”

“You’re not going to get married?” That was from Morgan. Steve busied himself with the grilled
cheese on the stove, hoping he’d be able to school his face.

“You can’t marry your brother,” Natasha replied. “Besides, I like living alone.”

“Is he your best friend?”

“I have a best friend. His name is Ned-”

Steve slid another sandwich off the stove. He cut what he had into quarters and brought them over
for the toddlers. “I’m working on yours,” he said in a low voice to Natasha. She waved him off.
The kids were competing for her attention; lucky for them, she was pretty adept at juggling many
conversations at once.

He brought over the final two sandwiches and looked in the fridge for some fruit. Natasha was
watching him. He shrugged at her, a smile digging at the corner of his mouth. “How’d I do,
babies?” he asked, cramming a sandwich triangle in his mouth.

“So good, you’re like an expert at this-”

“Hear that, I’m an expert,” he said, waving his fork at her. She crinkled her eyes at him, shaking
her head fondly.

“You’ve made a lot of grilled cheeses,” she deadpanned.

“Mm, it’s good to be king-”

He herded them upstairs after lunch. “We need sweaters,” he said, ushering them into their rooms.
“Pick something that’s going to keep you warm. We’re heading outside after this.”

“Where are we going?” Natasha asked, following Peter into his room.

“Pumpkin picking-”

Maybe he was overly cautious but he layered them in their fall jackets over the sweaters, found a
pair of boots for both of them, and tied Morgan’s hair back. Jarvis had shown him where to find the
bank of keys for all the different cars and given him his blessing to take any of them. Steve picked
the least flashy number he could find and transferred the booster and the car seat into it.

“Have you guys ever been pumpkin picking before?” Natasha asked, when Morgan was in her seat
and Steve was working on Pete.

“No,” Morgan said excitedly, bouncing her feet.

“Yes, we have,” Peter said just as strongly.

“No, we haven’t!”

“We went when you were a baby!”

“Kids,” Steve interrupted. “No yelling at each other. Pete, you said the last time you went, Morgan
was little?”

“Daddy held her,” Peter said sulkily. Morgan just made a high noise, looking out the window and
refusing to turn her head.

“So maybe Morgan was just too small to remember.” ‘Yikes,’ Natasha mouthed at him as he got
behind the wheel. He nodded imperceptibly. “Well, now you’re both big enough to remember,” he
said, backing out. “Let’s put on some music,” he added cause neither kid seemed inclined to talk.

“They swing through emotions pretty quickly, huh?” she murmured in his ear a while later. The
kids were walking in front of him, looking at pumpkins critically and no worse the wear for their
previous argument. They were even holding hands, something Steve hadn’t technically required of
them.

“Very,” he confirmed quietly. “But they don’t stay mad for long so…”

“How many pumpkins can we get, Steve?”

“One each,” he called.

“Can we get one for Daddy?”

He foresaw himself carrying half a dozen pumpkins into the house if he didn’t nip this in the bud.
“Daddy’s going to share with me and Nat.”

“But who’s going to pick out your pumpkin?” Morgan wheedled.

“I will,” he said firmly, cause this seemed like grounds for another developing argument. “Let’s
look for your pumpkins. Nothing bigger than a basketball. Look-” He held his hands up to
demonstrate. “That’s plenty big.”

The kids took their time picking out their pumpkins, examining each one critically for color, size,
cleanliness (“look Steve, so gross, what is this-?”), and so on. Pete picked his first, predictably.
Steve put the five year old up on his shoulders. He could feel tiny hands holding on to his hair.

Natasha had gone ahead to help Morgan. He watched her kneel in the ground beside Mo, both of
them talking very seriously. “Steve?” Pete asked, sliding his hands down on both sides of his face.
“Are you going to live with us forever?”

“I don’t know about forever, bud, but I’ll stay as long as I can.”

“I don’t want you to leave.”

“I don’t want to leave either, buddy.” He squeezed Pete’s legs where he’d been holding them,
hoping this was reassuring. “Look at me? I’m not going anywhere.”

Pete just hummed. He pulled on Steve’s ears, his fingers wandering.

 Chapter 12

Morgan finally picked her pumpkin with Natasha’s help. Steve suspected that she picked the one
that Natasha liked because she wanted to be like Steve’s friend; he’d noticed a worshipful
expression on Morgan’s face whenever she was around Natasha that just didn’t show up otherwise.

He paid for the pumpkins at the stand, handing a donut up to Pete on his shoulders and Morgan
who was milling around. Natasha was playing Fleetwood Mac on her phone and doing a little
dance; Morgan joined her, vibing and cramming donut in her mouth. The standowner told him he
had a beautiful family and, not knowing what to do, he stammered a thank you.

The kids dozed on the ride home, wind from the open windows stirring across their faces.

Natasha waited until they were both knocked out before she spoke. “You’re super attached to them,
Steve,” she said, leaning back to look in the back seat.

“I know they’re not mine though,” he said helplessly. There was no point in arguing with her about
it. “I’m just the nanny.”

She whacked him on the arm. “What’d I tell you about using the word ‘just’?”

He smiled faintly at that. “To get rid of it.”

“I worry about you,” she said next. “That’s all. We all do.”

“Did Sam tell you about the other day?”

“No, what happened?”

He was quiet, taking the curves at a slow speed. Already the city was looming in front of them. He
could see signs of the suburbs creeping in. “I had a panic attack. The kids were in school,” he
added quickly. “Everyone was safe.”

“What brought it on?”

He rubbed at his eyebrow. “I don’t know. Sometimes it just comes back. I know that I’m safe and
that it’s not happening again, but I just…” He coughed. “There’s that word again. Sorry.”

“I don’t want to bring you down,” she said quietly.

“I’m not feeling down, really. I liked today.”

He woke the kids up when they were back in the little backyard. It was a postage stamp really. He
spread out a blanket on the ground and opened their pumpkins for them. Morgan sat between his
legs to scoop the guts out, looking over at Peter furtively from time to time, as if to check and make
sure she was doing the right thing. Natasha worked on the pumpkin that apparently was the shared
property of all adults in the surrounding area.

He drew a cat on Morgan’s pumpkin with Sharpie. Pete wanted to draw his own design. “We’ll do
the cutting together,” he told Morgan patiently, covering her hand with his to hold the little knives
out of the kit. “Have to be careful.” He helped her saw down the line.

“This is hard,” she giggled.

“But worth it. You’re doing so good.”

Steve ended up doing a good amount of the carving on her pumpkin, which was not unexpected.
Morgan got up, dashing back and forth between him and Natasha and Peter, sometimes twirling
around the yard, though always avoiding Ana’s gardens. Steve felt this was a sign that she clearly
could follow directions when she wanted to.

“I was told everyone was back here,” said a voice behind Steve, when the sun was already
beginning to dip down.

He glanced behind him and found Mr. Stark standing there on the back step in a three piece suit
that made his mouth go completely bone dry. “Hey,” he croaked. The kids launched themselves at
Mr. Stark, hopefully covering his embarrassing reaction. Natasha was smirking at him. She waved
at Steve’s employer. “Hey, Tony.”

“Natasha. You have a good afternoon out with my progeny?”

“Amazing,” she snarked. Getting up, she dusted her knees off. “Steve really loves your children,
you know.”

“I was aware. Hey,” he said, bending to look at Morgan. “Which one’s yours?”

“Steve’s helping. Look-”

“So good,” Mr. Stark said, leaning one hand on Steve’s shoulder. “And the captain only helped a
little, huh?” Morgan nodded. The mechanic laughed. He rubbed a brief circle on Steve’s shoulder.
“What about you, Pete?”

“It’s a monster! It’s got big eyes and wings and mechanical claws-”

“We got a pumpkin for you as well, if you wish to help us,” Natasha said, because Natasha did not
seem to fall under the same spell of stupidity as Steve whenever Mr. Stark entered the proverbial
room. “I even gutted it for you.”

“You’re very scary,” Mr. Stark said with a smile. “But alright- let me change out of my suit and I’ll
come back out. Pepper will kill me if I ruin another suit.”

“I’ll go with you,” Morgan said, taking off after her father. She ran into the house.

Steve blinked dazedly. Natasha was smirking at him and he knew that when his crush did
eventually slip out to the others, she’d have some killer material on him. “Don’t look at me that
way.”

“What way?” she asked innocently.

“You know…”

“Natasha,” Pete said, coming to stand near her. She looked at the five year old, quirking her head.
“Are you going to stay for dinner?”

“Do you want me to?” He nodded minutely. She looked fondly at him. “We’ll ask Daddy if it’s
okay, alright? I won’t say no to spending more time with you.”

Pete beamed at her. “Daddy will say yes,” he said confidently. “Right, Steve?”

“Your daddy is very inviting,” Steve agreed. “He made me feel at home right from the start.” He
gestured Pete close, tugging him into a sprawling hug. “You having a good day, bud?”

Pete nodded vigorously. He thumped his belly and Steve sighed, rubbing slow circles across his
abdomen and rocking him gently. “Good. I love you.” He heard a click and looked up. “Did you
just take a picture?” he asked suspiciously.

“Yep. The others need to see the wonder that is Steve with children.”

“We can’t take pictures of the kids-”

“What’s the picture?” Mr. Stark was back. “Aw, that’s a good one. Text it to me.”

“Seriously-?”

“What’s your number?”

Watching the two of them together, Steve couldn’t help but feel like he’d made a mistake
somewhere along the way. For as weird as Mr. Stark got whenever Steve mentioned Natasha, he
clearly wasn’t against her being around the house. Just as Peter had predicted, Mr. Stark had lost no
time in inviting her to dinner. He felt a weird surge of jealousy and felt a little nauseous.

Natasha looked up at him in that moment and something shifted in her face, away from amusement
to concern. Just a flash of the expression and then it was gone. She looked from him to Mr. Stark,
frowning.

Mr. Stark was examining the pumpkin with a look of utter concentration. “I’ve never carved a
pumpkin before,” he mused.

“Never?” Steve asked incredulously, distracted from whatever was passing between him and
Natasha.

“Never,” Mr. Stark said cheerfully. “Didn’t have much of a childhood. Jarvis could tell you. We
didn’t do this kind of thing.”

“But Pete says you’ve gone pumpkin picking before.”

“I’m surprised you remember that,” Mr. Stark said, looking up at Pete. “You were pretty little
yourself.”

Pete wriggled out of Steve’s loose hold, crawling into the mechanic’s lap. “I remember! Mommy
and I painted the pumpkin!”

Mr. Stark seemed lost for words for a minute. “That’s right,” he agreed.

Morgan pulled on his sleeve. “I don’t remember,” she said.

There was that look of hurt helplessness in Mr. Stark’s eyes. Steve thought he was going to bolt- he
had the look of a runner, maybe that was where Morgan got it from, but- “I’ll try to find some
pictures,” Mr. Stark promised. “I know we took them.” He bit his tongue. “What are we going to
put on the pumpkin?”

The kids were off, hollering suggestions and scrabbling for the sharpie. Mr. Stark backed off from
them a little, watching them tumble in the grass. He nudged Natasha. “If you can imagine, this is
actually an improvement from how they were before we stumbled upon Steve.”

“Steve is actually very calming in his own right,” she said, shrugging. “Here, let’s design
something while they’re distracted…”

They ended up with a passable redesign of the famous Pink Floyd cover. Steve finished cutting out
Morgan’s design and the kids watched him finish Peter’s pumpkin with an easy kind of awe that he
didn’t understand. “Not a moment too soon, either,” he said. “It’s getting dark soon. Hang on.”

Setting Pete’s pumpkin on the steps next to Morgan’s cat, he ran back into the kitchen. Jarvis had
left him a lighter and some candles and he brought these outside. “These only get lit with an adult
around,” he said, looking both kids in the eye. “And the lighter isn’t a toy. It can be dangerous.
Right?”

“Right,” they echoed, watching him. He lit candles in each of the pumpkins then, watching the
looks on their faces as the flames flickered out of the carved holes.

“Going to light my flame, Captain?” Tony had lugged over the last pumpkin.

“That was terrible,” he told him bluntly, taking the pumpkin easily.

“Yeah, true. Shouldn’t make these jokes in front of your girlfriend, either, I guess. Right, Nat?”

She stood on tiptoes to kiss Steve on the cheek. “I would never date Steve,” she said. “Never have,
never will. I was promised dinner actually. Lunch was like 6 hours ago.”

“You must be starving,” Mr. Stark said, and suddenly his voice sounded much lighter and playful
again, sounded that way that always made Steve’s heart beat uncontrollably in his chest.

He lingered in the garden while the others went inside. Mr. Stark had thought that he was dating
Natasha and… that had bothered him? Or was he making things up in retrospect? Mr. Stark liked
Steve’s friend but hadn’t liked when he thought they were dating. He-

“Steve, you coming in? It’s hard enough to explain my presence at the dinner table without you
going MIA.”

“Coming,” he said hoarsely.

It felt like the pumpkins hadn’t been the only things filled with a bright flame. He gathered all the
supplies in a rush, dumping them in the wagon. He pushed this into the garage- he could take care
of it later- and he bounded up the stairs and into the bright house.
 Chapter 13

“I don’t have to go to school?”

Mr. Stark winced at how loud the question was. He rubbed his temples. “We’re changing things
up, honey. You’re going to go to school tomorrow.”

“I don’t like going to school,” she told him next.

Mr. Stark looked surprised at that. “I thought you liked the dolls and story time.”

“But I can do that here,” she said. “And nobody tells me I have to sit all the time!” she added
forcefully.

Mr. Stark was regarding her. “Sitting all the time’s hard for me too,” he said finally.

Morgan’s shoulders fell like a great weight had been taken off of them. She ducked down out of
her chair before anyone knew what was happening and had wriggled into Mr. Stark’s lap the next
moment. “Miss Watson says I spend too much time looking at the books and I’m supposed to be
playing with the others but I don’t like playing with the others. They’re mean!”

“The other kids are mean?”

“Sometimes,” she agreed.

“But not others?”

She sighed. “I like reading. You said it’s good!”

“Reading is good,” he agreed. He looked over at Steve. “Hm. Let me clear some space on my
calendar. Maybe Steve and I can go down there together some time. Talk to your teacher.” He
wiped her lip off. “What if Steve reads to you guys after you come home? I don’t think he’d
mind.”

“I’d like it, Morgan,” Steve said.

“Then you could play with the others and get your book time in.”

She shrugged. “Where am I going today?” She quirked her head at Steve.

“You’re staying home with me, sweetie.”

“But Peter’s going to school?”

He rested an arm on the back of Morgan’s chair. Maybe they’d gone over this too quickly. He’d
hoped that Mr. Stark would have mentioned this change over the weekend, but it seemed like the
mechanic had gotten caught up in something at work and now here it was, Monday, and they were
unprepared. “Pete’s going to school today and then tomorrow when you’re at school, he’ll be
home. I wanted to spend time with you guys by yourselves.”

“Why?”

Steve opened his mouth and closed it. It had been easier to be blunt with her father. Mr. Stark
actually stepped in. “The one on one attention will be good for both of you. Sometimes you guys
talk over each other. Okay?”

“Okay!” She leaned across the table. “Sorry you have to go to school, Pete!”

Pete had been lightly dozing in his french toast. He looked up sleepily. “Ned and I are going to
play Star Wars at recess!”

“So you’re going to have a good day,” Mr. Stark surmised, kissing him on the temple. “Bring me
home some good preschool gossip, hey Pete? You never told me how Cindy’s mom felt about her
new haircut.”

“She was mad,” Peter giggled.

“Why, I thought Cindy looked good with half her head shaved…”

Mr. Stark seemed weirdly distant this morning. Very engaged with the kids, but not too talkative
when he spoke with Steve. Steve wondered if he’d done something wrong. He couldn’t imagine
what it was- he’d been gone most of the weekend.

He’d actually been very excited to come home last night- Natasha and him had eaten Chinese food
and talked their way through the past week’s interaction- and he’d been sure that Mr. Stark was
attracted to him in some way, that he’d acted the way he had because he’d been jealous of Steve’s
friend. Now it seemed like he was wrong.

He shrugged it off. Maybe Mr. Stark had other things on his mind. Maybe Steve was reading too
much into it. He remembered how lost Mr. Stark had looked the past Thursday, when they’d been
talking about his wife. Steve didn’t even know how she’d died or what had gone wrong. Maybe
he’d been stupid to think that just because Mr. Stark didn’t love Natasha, that meant anything else.
He had a job to do-

“You got so sticky,” he marveled after breakfast, using baby wipes to clean syrup off their faces. “I
thought you guys knew how to use forks.”

“We did use forks,” Morgan hollered. He motioned for her to bring the volume down. “You saw
us,” she said, giving him a patronizing look. There it was- that head tilt, eyes wide indignant
expression that she’d inherited directly from her father.

“Then why are these hands so sticky?” he teased, working on her hand now.

“Your hands are sticky.”

“Are you going to have fun without me?” Peter asked, holding onto Steve’s ear.

Steve felt like he was walking a very fine line with these conversations. “I’ll miss you,” he assured
the five year old. “You’re going to have fun at school and we’ll have fun at home and then
tomorrow, we’ll swap.”

He got their coats on and slipped Pete’s bag over his arm. “It’s a little cool out. Should we still
walk to school?” he asked, looking at them. They nodded vigorously. “Then we’d better go.
Remember- no running away. Hold my hands.”

Pete actually did most of the talking on the way over to their school, telling them about his plans
with Ned and about a book they’d read the week before. Morgan jumped in to add her own two
cents from time to time but she was oddly quiet, even compliant.
They said their goodbyes to Pete at the door; Steve hugged them both close, kissing Pete on the
forehead. “We’re going to be back in the afternoon,” he promised. “Have fun, baby.” Even Morgan
hugged Peter, squeezing him and lifting him off his feet a little. They always made Steve’s heart
ache, so cute in moments like this.

“Just you and me,” he said cheerfully, when all the other kids had gone into the school. He lifted
Morgan up, sitting her on his arm. “Hey, good girl. We going to have fun together?” She nodded at
him, her smile surprisingly hesitant. He kissed her hand. “We’re going to have fun,” he promised,
pivoting.

Someone bumped into him then. “Sorry,” he said.

“You really should pay more attention to where you’re going.” The man he’d hit- who had walked
into Steve- was short and broad shouldered and oh god, looked like him- He shivered.

“Steve?”

He glanced over. Morgan was with him, a warm weight on his arm. “Sorry, baby,” he said. “Got
distracted.” He plastered on a smile.

Morgan loved the one on one attention. Craved it.

He walked them back to the mansion, went through to the back and loaded her into the same car
they’d taken to go pumpkin picking. He took her over to Brooklyn, hiding the car in the garage
spot that his father had always parked in, when he’d been alive.

“Do you want to carry the cake?” he asked, holding out the square box. Morgan nodded
enthusiastically. “Okay. Hold it with both hands. And go slow, please- or we’ll be eating it off the
ground.”

“I can be good,” she promised.

“I know you can. Here we go.” He let himself in through the back entrance. “Momma! Ma, we’re
here. You awake?” Morgan giggled.

“Of course I’m awake, it’s nearly 9,” she said, coming from nowhere to whack him on the arm.
“Oh, you brought my Morgan.”

‘Your Morgan?’ he mouthed at her with an air of disbelief.

She covered Morgan’s ears. “You’re in your late thirties with an eye on forty any minute. This
could be the closest I get to grandkids.”

“Mom, I’m 36-”

She shrugged, coaxing Morgan over to the living room where they sat around the coffee table,
playing Chutes and Ladders and eating cake- probably ill advised after Morgan had just finished
breakfast, but he knew she’d run it out by mid afternoon.

Morgan followed his mom around the house, apparently very happy to help put away the dishes
and dust the knick knacks. “If you’re going to break something, break this one,” his mom said,
pointing at one decoration. “Steve’s father gave me that and-” She lowered her voice to a whisper.
“I always thought it was kind of ugly, god rest his soul.”

Morgan laughed outright at that, but she was careful not to break anything. Steve worked on the
washing machine, trying to loosen a hose that had come undone. He listened to them talk.

“Are you excited about going to school on a different day?”

“Daddy says I can still see my old teacher!”

“What about your friends?”

He peeked over the top of the machine. Morgan was absorbed in whatever it was they were doing.
“I don’t have a friend friend,” she said. She honestly didn’t seem to cut up about it. He sighed in
relief.

“Why not?”

“Ma,” he hissed. His mother waved him off.

“I had a best friend but she moved away and then I had another best friend but we got into a fight
and she doesn’t want to be my best friend anymore.”

“What was the fight about?”

“She said I’m bossy!”

His mom tsked. “That must have made you feel bad. Do you think you’re ever bossy?” He’d
expected a quick dismissal- probably a loud one- but Morgan had paused, her little fists held out in
concentration. His mom winked at him. “I think everyone can be bossy sometimes,” she said
diplomatically. “Do you like it when other people tell you what to do all the time?”

Morgan was rubbing a circle into the table with her finger. “No…”

“Well, maybe this new schedule can be a fresh start,” his mother said, rubbing her back. “Just so
you know,” she added, like this was a secret they were sharing, “my teachers told me I was bossy
too when I was in school.”

She brightened. “Did they?”

“Yes. Cause I was.” His mom laughed. “I’m still bossy sometimes, aren’t I, Steve?”

“Sometimes. But I still love you!”

“Steve’s my good boy,” he heard his mom tell Morgan fondly. “He’s always been good.”
 Chapter 14

‘Did you guys seriously both take time off of work for me?’ he texted Sam.

There was a momentary pause and then a ping. Sam’s text flashed across the screen. ‘Of course we
did.’

‘I’m not worth that,’ he wrote back. ‘I could have started this on a weekend, I have those days off-’

He was interrupted almost immediately by a new text, this one from Bucky. ‘THAT’S BULLSHIT
AND YOU KNOW IT’

“Oh my god,” he said out loud, tossing his phone on the bed and going back to his shaving.

He continued to hear pings while he trimmed his sideburns. His hair was starting to get long-
longer than he’d ever had it before. He was going to have to ask Natasha for a trim soon. In all the
excitement of his new job, he’d simply forgotten, but-

“What now?” he said, hearing his phone begin to ring in earnest. “It’s like 7 in the morning, Buck,”
he said.

“You weren’t answering.”

“Because I was shaving,” he said indignantly. “What is it? I’m going to see you guys in like two
hours-”

“I wanted to make sure you were actually cool with it,” Bucky said patiently. “I know one of your
kids is going to be there and you’re a little bit squirrely about the whole gig. If you want your
privacy, I understand-”

“I’m not trying to hide from you guys,” he said, dumping a pair of socks and boxers onto the bed.
“I just know it’s not the most manly job ever-”

“Nothing you do has any bearing on you being a man,” Bucky interrupted. “Nothing that happens
to you changes that either. Tell me you know that. We’re definitely not judging you-”

“Bucky, I love you. You worry too much. I’ll bring Peter with me today and you’ll learn why I’ve
been hiding away- I wanted to keep them all to myself. You’ll like him.”

“Of course I will. Want me to bring anything to the apartment? A bagel?”

“Bucky, they feed me here-” Steve was laughing. “You’re ridiculous. I love you. Maybe bring
something for lunch. Bye-” He hung up before his best friend could continue to mother him.

He dressed in a hurry, jumping into jeans both feet first and then snagging a t-shirt and pulling this
over his head. He vaguely recognized it as a shirt Natasha had gotten for him. ‘Life is Good’
written in rainbow font around a sunburst- she’d gotten it for him during one of the worst periods
of his life and bullied him into wearing it. Now it was one of his favorites, the navy cotton fabric
worn soft by many uses.

He detoured into Morgan’s room first, knowing that Pete was always sleepy in the morning, he
wanted to give him as much extra time as he could. He pulled back one of the curtains just a little,
letting autumnal light fall into the room. Crouching down next to the bed, he brushed hair out of
her face.

He liked the way she slowly woke up, her features going from lax to inquisitive in a series of losses
and additions. He lightly tapped his fingers along the edges of her face. “Good morning,” he
whispered. “New day.”

She shifted under the covers. “Steve, I had the best dream last night,” she whispered, her voice
sleep soft and so very young.

“Do you want to tell me about it while we get you dressed?” he asked. She nodded. “Okay.
Blanket’s coming down.” He made a big show of pulling the blanket all the way off of her.

She wiggled out of bed. “I have to pee.” She wandered away towards the bathroom.

He plucked undies out of her drawer and a pair of socks; these he left on the armchair in the corner.
“Don’t forget to wash your hands,” he called.

He crossed the hall to where Peter was. “Come on, big boy,” he said, rubbing his hands down
Peter’s sides. “Time to start waking up.” Peter hummed. “There we go. I’m stealing this,” he said,
tugging the blanket down. He rubbed a quick circle over Pete’s belly. “Earth to Peter. Come in,
Pete. This is Captain Rogers.”

“Captain Rogers…” Peter slurred.

“That’s right.” He opened Youtube on his phone, picking a James Taylor song. He left this playing
on Pete’s bedside table. Pete was slow to wake up, quick to dress.

He crossed back into Morgan’s room. She’d put the undies and the socks on and was now looking
critically through her closet. “I want to wear a dress today,” she said decisively.

“And leggings. It’s cold.”

“Did you go on your run?”

“I did, honey. Let’s see- you have your cat dress, this one has beakers on it- did Daddy pick that
one out?- oh and then there’s this one-”

“That’s a nightgown,” she said, slumping against him. She pointed at a different dress. “Unicorns.”

“Good choice,” he dropped her to the ground, pulling down the dress. He unfolded a gray pair of
leggings and left those with her.

Pete’s eyes were open this time when he came into the room. He sucked on his thumb absently,
turning his head to look up at Steve when Steve bent over the bed. “I have to get up?” he asked, his
words muffled around the digit. Steve nodded gravely. “Ohhh…”

He undressed Pete who was compliant but clearly not fully conscious. “Go potty,” he said, nudging
Pete in the right direction.

Steve basically dressed Peter, wrestling him into a pair of jeans and a gray cardigan that made him
look like a little lawyer. He supervised them brushing their teeth and helped brush out Morgan’s
hair. She’d requested he learn how to do more than a ponytail with her hair; he’d watched several
videos on Youtube at this point but didn’t dare try any of them. He put a hairband on her instead,
figuring this would keep her hair somewhat neat when she inevitably started running around at
school. She talked her way through the process, updating him on her dreams.
“See, was that so difficult?” he asked, carrying them both down the stairs five minutes later.

“I’m sleepy, Steve.”

“You’re always sleepy. You’re not a morning person.”

“No…”

He drove Morgan to her school, dropped her off, and made his way towards his apartment with
Peter in the backseat, talking to him in a sleepy voice about robots and spaceships and spiders,
which he knew a surprising amount about.

“Hey, listen bud,” he said, parking the car. “Two of my best friends are going to be up in the
apartment with us today. They’re really nice but can be a bit loud. You’re safe with them, just like
you’re safe with me. Okay?”

“Your best friends like Ned?”

“That’s right.” Getting out of the car, he ran around to Peter’s side, unbuckling him.

“Will they like me?”

He lifted Pete above his head, making him squeal. Dipping him down again, he kissed Pete’s nose.
“I don’t think there’s anyone alive who wouldn’t love you. You’re extra special.”

He heard a whistle and instinctively looked- there was Bucky and Sam, watching him from the
front stoop. He hipped Peter, closing the door to the car absently. He grinned bashfully. “I thought
you’d be up in the apartment already…”

“And miss this? No-”

“Oh, god,” he muttered.

Bucky however, held out his hand. “Are you Peter? I’m Bucky. This is Sam.”

Peter hesitantly took the hand outstretched to him. He had a chokehold on Steve’s neck. “You’re
Steve’s friends?”

“That’s right.”

“You have a robot arm,” Peter whispered, so quiet that even Steve, who was holding him, could
barely hear it.

Bucky lifted his prosthetic arm in surprise. “That’s right. Stevie says you like robots. Want to
look?”

“It’s cool,” Pete said quietly, touching Bucky’s fist. He blinked, looking back at Steve. He seemed
to abruptly realize what he was doing- he threw himself across Steve’s shoulders, hugging his neck.

“Well,” Steve said in the quiet that followed. He rubbed Pete’s lower back. “It’s cold. Let’s get out
of the wind.” He fumbled in his pocket for his keys. “You guys really shouldn’t have waited down
here- you didn’t know when I was coming…”

“We were only out there for fifteen minutes,” Sam said, following him up the stairs. “It was nice. I
just miss Bucky’s long hair when the wind blows-”
“You do not.”

“I like it cut short again- is this what he looked like when you were teenagers?”

Steve paused on the threshold of his apartment. He assessed Bucky on the landing. The army had
taken parts of all of them. Still… “He’s as handsome as he ever was,” he said, pushing into the
apartment. “Come on, baby.”
 Chapter 15
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

“So I thought,” Steve said, sprawling out on the couch and hoisting Pete into his lap, “I thought
today we’d just pack everything up and divy it up. And then this weekend I can get a truck and
bring it to the different places-”

“Sure, sure.” The two others were openly watching him. He shook his head at them, rubbing Pete’s
back. He waved them off.

“Petey,” he said gently. Pete lifted his head, looking at him. “Can you help me, baby?”

“Yes…”

“Can you…” He looked around the apartment- “Can you help me put all the food in the pantry into
these boxes? We’ll bring them to donate.”

“What do you want us to do?”

“Um… maybe box up the books and the photos? Take the art off the walls? I’ll bring those over to
my room at the house. The TV too. Otherwise, everything will go into storage for now, I think.
Lucky I don’t have much.”

“I actually don’t know how you lived like this, man.” But Sam said it without judgment.

“Right. Okay, sweetie.” Steve rubbed Pete’s stomach. “Maybe we’ll put boxed goods in one box,
cans in another…”

Pete was a good helper for this kind of stuff. Morgan would have lasted about a half an hour at
most before she’d get bored, but her brother liked to help and was able to devote a solid amount of
concentration to a given task. They were done with the food in a short time and Steve showed Peter
how to wrap mugs in newspaper. Pete leaned against him, a warm weight on his side.

“Hey, Peter, want to see something?” Bucky asked, coming in an hour after they’d started.

Pete perked up. His thumb started to creep up towards his mouth. Steve closed his hand over
Peter’s, stopping him gently. “Uh huh.”

“This is a picture of Steve and me and Natasha. You’ve met her, haven’t you?”

“Natasha carved pumpkins with us,” Pete said, reaching out for the frame. “That’s you?” he asked,
looking at Steve.

“That’s me. See, Bucky and I are about 17 here and Nat was 15. I love this photo.”

“What were you doing?”

“We were trying to teach Natasha how to rollerblade,” Bucky said from his spot at the door. “See
her feet?”

“You didn’t have your robot arm,” Peter noticed.

“That came later.”

“I like you better with this arm,” Pete told Bucky, successfully slipping his thumb into his mouth
while Steve was distracted. He gave it up as a lost cause. Pete got nervous around new people. He
was surprised the kid was saying as much as he was, truth be told. He’d have to apologize for all
the talk about Bucky’s prosthetic later.

Steve took the photo from Pete, rubbing his thumb over the frame. There was him and Bucky,
shoulder to shoulder on his mother’s front steps, and there was Natasha. She’d collapsed into his
lap, looking up at him with a wide grin. “God, Nat looks young. I’m going to bring this home with
me today,” he decided, setting it to the side of the table.

Bucky nodded, pushing off of the door jamb. He pulled Steve into a one armed hug unexpectedly
and went back out to wherever Sam was.

“Come on, sweet boy, you’ve earned yourself a break,” he told Pete. They tumbled down onto the
couch, where Steve read Pete his picture books. It was the boy’s stomach grumbling that clued
Steve in to the time. “Are you hungry?” he asked.

“A little.”

“A little,” he repeated thoughtfully. “Let me find the others and we’ll take care of that.”

He left Pete on the couch, looking at the pictures in his books, scooting carefully around him. The
others were rifling through his bedside table- Sam had bagged up an assortment of condoms and
lube that he tossed to Steve, narrowly missing his head. He stuffed these away in a box with a
muttered oath.

“We found some souvenirs from your time with Sharon,” Bucky said, gesturing to the bed.

He looked over it with some newfound clarity. “We can toss it all out,” he said.

“No sentimental attachment to these tickets from Cats?”

“I hate that musical,” he said vehemently. “Anyways- I’m hungry. Pete’s hungry. You guys-?”

“Yeah, I could eat,” Sam said. He pushed Steve towards the kitchen.

“I’ll make BLTs and then we should probably-” He was interrupted by his phone ringing. He
looked at it and was surprised when it was his boss. “Mr. Stark?”

“Captain. You haven’t left to pick up Morgan yet, have you?”

“No,” he said, immediately checking his watch. It was only 12:15. “Should I have?”

“No. Listen- I cleared my afternoon schedule. I thought I’d pick Mo up and give you some more
time with Peter- does that work? Maybe we could meet up midafternoon? Do something together, I
thought.”

He was surprised but pleased. Glancing up, he saw the other two men watching him. “Yeah. Yeah,
I think that would be great.”

“What did you have planned for this afternoon?”

He shrugged then realized Mr. Stark couldn’t see that. “Just bring them to a playground. Maybe
shop for Halloween costumes. Nothing specific.”
“Hmm. Come by the house around 3:00 and we’ll meet up and head out from there?”

“Yeah. I can do that.”

“Good.” There was a pause. “What have you been doing this morning?”

“Um.” He looked around him. Packing his apartment up while he should have been watching Peter
had felt a little wrong, like he should be doing something more Peter centric. “I’m over at my
apartment,” he admitted. “Pete’s helping me pack- the lease is up at the end of the month. I’ve got
some friends over. I was just about to make lunch.”

“Pete likes to help.”

“Oh yeah, he’s a big help,” he said, making sure to raise his voice. He could see the five year old
peeking over at him. Pete smiled. “Daddy?” he asked. ‘Daddy,’ Steve mouthed at him.

“Are these the friends you mention from time to time?”

“Yes- Annoying as they are, they do help me,” he said, hearing Bucky scoff behind him. “Did you
want to talk to Pete?”

“Sure, put him on,” Mr. Stark said cheerfully.

Steve handed his phone to Peter who was very excited to talk to his daddy in the middle of the day.
He ruffled Pete’s hair, grinning at how animated the kid was. He made his way back to the kitchen,
glad they hadn’t packed all the pans yet. “What?” he asked, seeing the others waiting for him.

“You’re smitten with him,” Bucky said.

“What-? No-” Steve glanced around desperately, waving at the brunette to lower his voice. “He’s
my employer,” he hissed.

“No, Buck’s on to something here, Steve. You smiled the entire time you were talking to him.”
Sam pointed at him with the bread knife. “No wonder you could part with the Sharon souvenirs so
easily.”

“Go back to slicing the bread.”

“Is he attractive?” Bucky asked. Steve refused to answer, digging the bag of groceries out that
they’d brought over. Bucky apparently was googling his boss’s name. A minute- and then there
was a whistle. “Holy shit,” Buck said, showing his phone to Sam.

“No wonder you weren’t interested in anyone at that bar,” Sam said loudly.

Steve could hear a lull in the conversation in the living room. God only knows what Mr. Stark
could hear in the background of his call with Pete. “Guys. Don’t tempt me,” he said, shaking the
frying pan menacingly.

“Steve!” Peter ran into the kitchen. He bounced off Steve’s legs. “Here’s your phone.”

“You done talking to Daddy?” he asked, refusing to be embarrassed by this line of inquiry.

“Yes. He’s coming to the playground with us this afternoon.” Pete was far more excited than Steve
typically saw him. He pretended this was new information; feigning excitement was easy when
Peter was this happy. “Pick me up?”
 “Of course.” He tossed the bacon on the counter, scooping Peter up.

“I’ll cook the bacon,” Bucky said, getting up.

“Maybe we can help Sam,” he told Peter. “You’re really good at putting the mayo on.”

“Are you, Pete?” Peter looked over at his friend and nodded enthusiastically. “That’s good. That’s
good, man. I’m not good at that.”

“I’m a good helper. Right, Steve?”

“So good.”

‘We can do something together,’ he thought, thinking about his phone conversation. It could be
that Mr. Stark felt overwhelmed at the idea of having both kids, true, but… It had kind of felt like
the mechanic had wanted him there specifically, that he was an important part of the puzzle. He
hummed.

Picking Pete up impulsively, he twirled in a pirouette. Peter shrieked with glee. “Again!”

“Again?” Peter nodded. He did another quick twirl, pressing his cheek against the five year old’s.
“I love you,” he said thickly.

Chapter End Notes

Took a lazy day at home so here, have another update. Still reading all the comments,
but writing the story doesn't leave a lot of time to reply in a timely manner. :) Hope
everyone's well.
 Chapter 16

Mr. Stark and Morgan were sitting on the back steps of the townhouse when Steve drove in, a
couple of hours later. “Daddy,” Peter breathed, pressing his face to the window. Steve parked in
the drive, watching his boss come over with Morgan on one hip.

“Hi, buddy,” Mr. Stark said, bending his head to grin at Peter. “You need to go potty before we
leave?”

“I already went, Daddy.”

“Steve, you good?”

Steve was getting out of the car, coming around to take Morgan. “Yeah, I also went potty before
we left,” he sassed.

“I’d hate for you to get a UTI,” Mr. Stark said nobly.

“What’s a-?”

“It’s an infection you get if you hold in your pee for too long,” Steve explained, figuring
sometimes it was better just to provide a simple answer. He heard Mr. Stark getting into the front
seat. “Are you driving?” he asked, incredulous.

“I prefer to drive, Captain.” Mr. Stark set about moving the seat forward and the wheel down,
moving the mirrors. “That okay?”

“Your car, your right,” he said. “There we go, Mo.”

Jogging around the end of the car, he climbed in the passenger seat. Being the nondriver was
unusual for him and felt weirdly intimate. He shivered when Mr. Stark put his hand on the seat
behind him to turn around, something that wasn’t unnoticed by his boss. “Warm enough?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Daddy, where are we going?”

“Playground, baby. I found one that’s a bit out of the way,” he added in an undertone to Steve.
“Might help. Sometimes the press follows me around. Hoping to catch me in a scandal.”

“That’s awful,” Steve said, just as quietly.

“Why are you two whispering to each other?” Morgan called from her spot behind Mr. Stark.

“I was just telling Captain Rogers how handsome he looked in his hoodie,” Mr. Stark called out
shamelessly. Steve gaped at him. He shrugged. “You do look good.”

“Th-thank you,” he said, wondering how he was always managing to make a fool of himself
without doing anything in particular. “How did you get out working this afternoon?”

“I’ve been working on an AI system to help parse through my work with me,” Mr. Stark admitted
cheerfully. “Like a robot,” he called to Peter. “Her name’s Friday.”

“Friday?”
“Like the movie? His girl Friday-? Cause she’s helping me. Anyways, she’s in the beginning
stages, but she already has earmarked several ‘mandatory’ meetings that did not require my
presence. I moved some things around and presto bingo, here we are.”

“I understood like a third of that,” Steve murmured. Tony laughed at that.

“I’ve been thinking about my line of work more and more lately. We should talk about it some
time- maybe when the kids are in bed. I think you’d find it interesting. I’d like your opinion,
anyway. Free to say no, though-”

“You want my opinion on the kind of work you do…?”

Mr. Stark was whistling. “Petey, you seemed to like dancing the other day.”

“I like the spinning,” Peter piped up.

“But you don’t want to take classes?” Mr. Stark glanced back at him at the next light. He seemed
to be exiting the city, heading for the suburbs. A car honked behind them and he looked forward
again.

“No…”

“We should dance with Steve more,” Morgan said firmly.

“Yes,” Peter agreed, his legs kicking forward. “Steve spinned with me today. In the kitchen.”

“Just a little-” Steve didn’t know why he felt defensive about this, just that he felt like he needed to
tell Mr. Stark he hadn’t meant anything wrong by it.

“Daddy, you like to dance,” Pete said next.

“You don’t dance!” Morgan objected.

“But he used to…”

“I took dance lessons,” Mr. Stark confided in Steve while they bantered back and forth. “When I
was a kid.” Steve looked over at him, surprised. Mr. Stark grinned at whatever the look was on his
face. “ My mom’s idea. Important for all the social events. Keeping up appearances. Waltzes,
salsas, tangos. Kind of pretty, kind of boring. My friend Rhodey taught me some new ways to
dance when I went to college. Mom wouldn’t have approved of those.”

“The kids had a lot of fun, the other day,” Steve suggested quietly, stretching his legs out. Mr.
Stark had surprised him by taking the afternoon off. Kept showing up when everyone seemed to
imply that he was too caught up in his own business. He had the feeling that Mr. Stark desperately
wanted to take a more forward approach to his parenting, and didn’t know how. “I wouldn’t make
fun of you if you don’t make fun of me.”

“Mockery wasn’t what I was feeling, watching you the other day,” Mr. Stark muttered under his
breath. “Here we are-”

“What’s the rules when we’re out and about?” Steve asked, turning in his seat.

“Stay in sight, stay nearby, don’t go off with strangers,” they recited, talking over each other.

Mr. Stark caught Steve’s arm before he could exit. “You keep an eye on Morgan, I keep my eye on
Peter?” he asked quietly. Steve smiled faintly; he nodded.
The kids ran ahead of them into the playground, racing each other on the gravel pathway. Mr.
Stark fell in beside Steve, following after them. They called to him, imploring him to watch them
climb ladders and run across bridges. Steve was constant, sure, but Daddy was special. Steve found
he didn’t mind.

“They want you to go up with them,” Steve pointed out, his mouth curving with suppressed mirth.

Mr. Stark had been feigning deafness. He gave Steve a look. “No, you want me to go up there. See
me try to squeeze my ass down that slide.”

“Language,” Steve reproved, adjusting his hat. He handed the cap to the other man. “That mom
over there is watching you. Take this.”

“Really think that a ball cap is going to disguise me?”

“Works wonders! Babies,” he called. “Daddy’s coming up!”

“Yay!”

“I’ll get you for this,” Mr. Stark said without heat. He climbed onto the ship structure of the
playground, easing into the little space at the top of the ladder. Steve took out his phone, snapping
a picture of the mechanic crawling after them through a tunnel. He meandered around the structure,
tracking their progress and feeling a strange sense of protectiveness over all three Starks.

“I’m coming down,” Morgan called from the top of the slide.

“I’m waiting for you, darling,” he called back. “I’ll catch you-”

He snatched her at the bottom of the slide, swinging her up into the air. She scrambled her way
back down to the ground. “Do it again,” she called, already scrambling back up a set of steps.

Mr. Stark slid down the curved slide with Peter in his lap. “Do what again?”

“Fancy lift trick. You went down okay,” Steve said, trying not to laugh. He lifted Pete off and onto
the ground. Pete took off after Morgan. He held out a hand, dragging the eldest Stark back to his
feet.

“I’ll be in traction tomorrow,” Mr. Stark vowed.

“No, you’ll be fine-”

“Steve, do it again,” Morgan called, stomping her feet to get his attention. “Then me,” Peter added.

“I’m right here,” he promised.

“I want a picture of you,” Mr. Stark said, some time later, after the kids had gone up and down the
play structure a dozen times and swung their way around a jungle gym. “Of me?” Steve asked in
surprise.

“With the kids. Is that creepy?”

“Depends on why you want it,” he said, feeling bold. “Lusting after my good looks?”

“A little bit, but also you make the kids happy.”

They looked at each other. The kids were chasing each other, racing around them in a wide circle,
sand flying everywhere. It was hard to see Mr. Stark’s eyes under Steve’s ball cap and he half
regretted handing it over. He clapped his hands. “Babies,” he called. “Daddy wants a picture.
Come back to me-”

And it was easy enough to balance one of them on each hip, Morgan brushing hair impatiently out
her eyes. They allowed approximately one minute for Mr. Stark to snap a photo and then they were
clambering for the ground, taking off towards the swings.

“Will you send it to me?” he asked shyly.

“I’ll send it now.”

“Need a boost?” Steve asked Morgan. He set her on the seat of the swing, holding on to Peter’s
swing so it wouldn’t move while he backed onto it- Pete’s legs were just slightly longer. “I can
push you. Let’s see if you can kick Daddy in the face-”
 Chapter 17

He was having one of those nights again. He laid on the bed, his arms folded across his stomach.
He felt restless, out of sorts. Anxious, ready to run, a little horny- what exactly was his problem?

It took turning over five times for him to realize that he wasn’t going to sleep any time soon.

He touched down off the bed, grabbing his sweatpants.

The house was quiet and dark. It was past midnight. He went down a flight of stairs and padded
along the hallway to the kids’ rooms. They were both asleep. He covered Morgan back up- she’d
somehow managed to kick her way to freedom and was now curled in a ball.

Mr. Stark’s door was open, at the end of the hall. That was weird…

Steve slipped down the stairs, mindful of the step that creaked. Did Mr. Stark want company? Had
he gone somewhere? His work didn’t usually take him away, this late at night. Steve paused in
front of the lab. Mr. Stark had told him he didn’t have to knock, had told him the door was always
open in fact, but he rarely took him up on it, afraid that he’d interrupt him while he was doing
something important, afraid that he wouldn’t want Steve there, afraid of nameless things in general.

He tapped on the door and then pushed his way in, gathering his courage. “Hey,” he said. “I-” He
was losing his nerve, this was stupid. “Am I interrupting-?”

“Captain. Can’t sleep?” Mr. Stark gestured him forward.

“Yeah… No. Was just kind of lying there. I’ve found that it’s best just to get up, walk around a bit,
moments like these. Noticed your door was open. Wanted to make sure…”

“Does that happen to you a lot?”

He drew in on himself. “A fair bit. I push through it.”

Mr. Stark patted the corner of his desk absently. He seemed absorbed in whatever he was working
on but when Steve didn’t move, he dropped the papers, turning his chair around. “I have trouble
sleeping,” he admitted.

“Do you?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s been years since I got some good sleep. It used to be because the kids were little-
even littler, I mean- and we’d be up all night between the two of them, all the diapers and the
feedings and the times they’d cry seemingly for no reason-” He shrugged.

“And lately?” Steve asked tentatively.

Mr. Stark jerked his head a little, pulling himself back from whatever horizon he was seeing. “My
wife got sick and d-died fairly quickly,” he said, his voice a trained kind of neutral. “But it did
seem to also take forever, watching her waste away when she’d been so healthy not very long
before. The year she died, I just kind of fell apart.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve said and he meant it. It was more information than he’d expected or felt he
deserved.

Mr. Stark brushed off his apology without acknowledgement. He scratched at his ear. “It’s been
strange, sleeping alone. I haven’t done it in a decade. You know the other night, when the kids
joined me-? Even with Morgan kicking the absolute shit out of me, I think I slept better that night
than any other lately.”

“Maybe we’ll have to take them up on their offer for a sleepover,” Steve suggested blithely.

The mechanic laughed at that, really laughed at it. “Maybe. Maybe we’ll ditch the kids,” he added,
his eyes twinkling with some mirth. Steve was beginning to think this was the man’s defense
mechanism that he was seeing. Or at least, partly his defense mechanism. “It’s very kind of you to
check on me, Cap.” Mr. Stark turned and saw him still hovering in the doorway. “Really, Steve,
you can come in.”

“You never call me that,” he said, the name jolting him into action. He made his way across the
room, ducking under some electrical wires and sitting on the edge of the mechanic’s desk.

“Well now I know it really grabs your attention,” Mr. Stark teased.

“I like you calling me ‘captain’ though,” Steve said through a yawn. He froze. He hadn’t meant to
say that. “Why do you?”

Mr. Stark’s mouth quirked. For a moment, Steve was sure that he was going to say something
lecherous and he found that he couldn’t wait. The mechanic seemed to rethink it. “At first, it
seemed funny.”

“And now?”

Mr. Stark rubbed the side of his face. “I’d already burned my way through nearly half a dozen
nannies, none of which I’ve liked as much as I like you. It seemed like a good way to keep some
distance between us. You know, in case you didn’t want to stay.”

“Create some distance so that you don’t get hurt,” Steve surmised.

“And it’s a little bit kinky, Captain.”

“You’re a walking HR violation,” Steve told him, laughing despite himself.

“If the flirting makes you uncomfortable, I can stop.”

Steve tilted his head, trying to quickly parse through his thoughts. Calling it flirting was interesting
cause Steve had imagined that this was another way to create some artificial distance between
them, but then here was Mr. Stark, offering to dismantle that distance if it made him
uncomfortable. But Steve had never felt like it had created distance; in fact, he rather thought the
opposite of it. “No. It doesn’t bother me at all,” he said. “So you’d be sad to lose me,” he added,
trying to lighten the mood.

“Devastated, Captain.”

Steve half smiled, half frowned. “I have no intention on leaving. You’d have to fire me first.”

Mr. Stark full on grinned at that. He had a dazzling kind of smile, something that stayed in the
room long after he left it. “So… I put my cards on the table. Why couldn’t you sleep?” he asked
next.

Steve… Steve wasn’t sure he could do this. Still, he thought of Sam. Bucky. And Nat. They’d all
told him he should talk about this, that the shame didn’t lie with him. “When I was in the army,
something bad happened to me,” he said neutrally. His heart thudded in his chest.

Mr. Stark looked up, his expression pained. “You got hurt?”

Steve paused, then flashed half a miserable grin. “In a manner of speaking. I’d never considered
that I would get hurt. Big tough guy and all of that. Uh,” he shook his head. “Tonight I’m thinking
about it.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Mr. Stark’s inquiry was so unexpected, so much softer and gentler than he normally was. Steve
was startled. “No.” The mechanic nodded quickly, backing away. Steve hadn’t meant it that way-
He got to his feet. “Not because it’s you. Well… because it’s you, I guess. You’re my employer.”

“According to Morgan, we’re besties.”

Steve laughed shakily at that. “But that’s the thing. I take care of your babies. I’m supposed to
keep them safe.”

“You do keep them safe.” Mr. Stark stood on his tiptoes, rocking his weight on his feet like a
dancer. “Is there something medically wrong with you that I should know about?” he asked, his
voice curious.

Steve coughed. “No, I’m actually in excellent shape, I think-” He waited for the flirtatious
rejoinder, but Mr. Stark was quiet, looking at him with concern. “No, I, uh- it just makes me feel
weak. What happened. I would never let it affect me when I’ve got the kids. But I… don’t sleep
very well.”

“Captain…” Mr. Stark was frowning. “You can tell me anything. I hope you know that.” He bit his
tongue. He remembered what it had felt like, knew what it had taken from him. “Can I tell you
something?” Mr. Stark asked.

Steve lifted his face. “Yes,” he said. “Of course.”

“I feel like a bad dad sometimes. But more than that, I feel like a bad person.”

“You are not either,” Steve said immediately, more emphatically than he’d meant to. Mr. Stark
smirked at the responsiveness of it all. “I get feeling that way. But you’re not. The kids adore you.”

“Adoration doesn’t equal quality. I loved my dad, for instance.”

“I like you,” he said quietly.

Mr. Stark froze. Steve wavered on the edge of panic. “Thanks, Captain. I’ll try to earn it.”

“You said you didn’t have a very good childhood,” Steve said, wondering if he was pushing his
luck. “What did you mean?”

Mr. Stark tapped his thigh with a screwdriver. He pondered Steve, almost nervously. “I wasn’t the
type of son he’d wanted me to be. Too soft. Not ambitious enough. I lacked a certain ruthlessness
that he wanted. He made his disappointment known.”

“I think you’re perfect,” Steve said without thinking. Mr. Stark laughed outright at that. “Oh
fuck-”

“You can’t take that back, Captain. That’s my compliment now.”

“I meant, I think you’re a good man.” That stole the smile off his employer’s face. “I don’t think
you have to be perfect anyways. I think you try to be good and you are good. Are there things you
want to change about how things are?”

Mr. Stark tapped his lips. “I don’t want to miss any more bedtimes. Any of them. I’m glad they
have you… but I’d like them to have me too. I was beginning to think we were a family beyond
reproach- unfixable, you know?- and then you showed up at our doorstep and I realized that I’d let
everything get out of control. And that’s on me.”

“That’s why you went to the playground with us the other day.”

“Baby steps, Cap.”

“It’s human to need help,” Steve argued. “What you went through- well, I don’t know much about
it, but-” He edged closer. “I’m nothing special.”

“That’s shit,” Mr. Stark said, interrupting him.

His heart was beating rapidly. “Would it be presumptuous to say I’d like us to be better friends?”

There was the ghost of a smile on the mechanic’s lips. “You’d have to call me ‘Tony,’ if we’re
going to be friends.”

Steve rubbed at his neck. “Mr. Stark during the day, Tony at night,” he challenged. “You are my
boss.”

“We don’t exactly have a traditional relationship. But fine- I accept your terms. Do you want me to
call you Steve in return?”

“Not yet,” he said, getting down off the desk. “I’m enjoying being your captain.”

There was a smile on Mr. Stark’s face that said Steve had said the right thing. He found a strange
sense of calm stealing over him. All of the fear and the twitchiness was still there, but it was so
much less. He felt much more tired all of a sudden. “Alright then, Captain. Let me walk you to
your room. We should both take another stab at some sleep.”

“Thanks… Tony.”
 Chapter 18

“Can you do something for me?” he asked. “Can you cut my hair? It’s getting long.”

“I wondered when you’d ask,” she said, running her fingers through his hair. “You’re normally
more punctual than this.”

“Lost track of it,” he admitted.

“Come sit in the kitchen. I’ll get my supplies.”

He pulled her computer chair into the middle of the room and sat, watching her grab scissors out of
the bathroom, a sheet from the linen closet. She mussed his hair as she went by.

“Are you sure you still want me cutting your hair now that you’re a bigtime Park Avenue nanny,”
she teased, slipping the sheet around his shoulders and clipping it in the back with a binder clip.

“Oh please,” he scoffed. “I’m the same person. And you promised you wouldn’t tease me about
the nanny thing anymore.”

“I promised I’d keep it to a minimum.” She ran her fingers through the hair on the sides of his face,
giving him a little scalp massage. “You still want the military special or you willing to let me try
something else?”

He squinted at her. “What do you have in mind?”

“Oh, let me try it. If you hate it, it’ll be easy enough just to cut it down to what it usually is.
Please?” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, leaning heavily on him.

“You won’t be offended if I don’t like it?”

“Have I ever been offended by your opinion yet?”

He considered it. “I guess not. Okay, do your worst.”

She spun the chair around so that he couldn’t see the mirror. “You like being a nanny,” she
observed, beginning to comb out his hair. “This is the longest you’ve stayed with a job in a while.”

“That’s not true,” he said. “I was at the art gallery for almost two years-”

“Yeah, but that’s different,” she said. “This is the longest you’ve stayed at a job you were
enjoying. That’s what I meant.” She began to snip at his hair, expert fingers working their way
back, tugging gently at the strands.

There was something deeply meditative about Natasha cutting his hair, a mindfulness to the
activity he would never be able to describe to anyone else. He remembered when he’d first come
back, after the war. Natasha had been the first one he’d let that close to him. The first one who had
made him feel safe again. “Do I tell you enough that I love you?” he asked.

She paused. “You could say it more,” she said, cupping his face. She went back to cutting his hair.
“But you’re far from distant.”

“Well, I love you,” he said simply. “And I really appreciate you cutting my hair. And finding me
jobs when I skip around. I’m sorry I’ve made you pick up the pieces of my life so frequently.”
She pecked him on the forehead. “Don’t go getting mushy on me. I was going to ask about your
massive crush on your boss.”

He grinned. “It’s not the only thing I have that’s massive-”

“Ugh! You’re so gross, Steve-” She swatted at him, laughing. “Don’t distract me.”

“I was just trying to obey you. You said I was getting too mushy,” he said, putting on his best
innocent look. He batted his eyes and giggled, his shoulders shaking.

“I’m going to cut your ear off if you don’t stop laughing,” she chided.

“Sorry, sorry-”

“So we’re just going to pretend that he isn’t your type, then?”

“How do you figure? Last time around I was dating a blond woman without children in Brooklyn.
Now I’m ‘lusting’-” He put this in finger quotes. “After an older brunette with two very
traumatized babies in Manhattan. A man.”

“Steve, you’re a fucking bisexual,” she said, standing behind him now. “I thought you knew what
that meant.”

“It means I swing wildly in what I want to fuck?” he asked, quirking his head.

“Stop moving around. Look at your toes.” Turning the electric razor on, she began to clip the back
and sides of his hair. While she apparently changed the setting of the razor, she asked him a
different question. Or made a different statement, actually. “So you are sexually attracted to him
then.”

“Yes,” he admitted, feeling defeated. “But not,” he held up a finger, “just because he’s insanely
hot. I have standards. He’s a devoted father and very funny and super intelligent, like I don’t
understand half of what he’s saying, and he’s- he’s-”

But he didn’t have the right words to describe how he felt about Mr. Stark and maybe that was for
the best. He thought about the way the mechanic looked when he stood over the kids’ beds at
night, watching them sleep, and he thought about the spark in his eye whenever he teased Steve.
He- Oh, shit- It was worse than a crush.

“Natasha, I’m in trouble,” he said, leaning back. “I never meant to fall in love. It was supposed to
be a job.”

“Steve, you’re a good man with a good heart. You like to laugh, he likes to joke. You love with all
your heart. You like to save people. He makes you feel needed.” She kissed his ear. “I bet you fell
in love with him two minutes after you met him. You’re only figuring it out now.”

He felt a wave of panic. “I should quit then, shouldn’t I? I’m there under false pretenses.”

She’d started the razor up again, presumably to start cleaning up the edges of his hair. Now she
turned it off again. She spun the chair around so that his knees knocked against hers. She
readjusted, straddling his knees, locking them into place with her own. “Don’t you dare quit,
Steve.”

“What-? But, Nat-”

“Oh, Steve, what is this streak in you that makes you torpedo any happiness you have in your life?”

“I don’t-”

“Let go of the reins for once in your life, Steve- Put your defenses down. I’m actually kind of
begging you,” she said, putting the razor down with a clatter. “Tony’s a grown man. So are you.
You can figure out a way to address this in a mature way.”

“But the babies-”

“Both of you love those kids, Steve. If it turns out that you and him were completely incompatible,
don’t you think you’d figure out a way to still make things work for them?”

He looked up at her. “It would hurt, Nat.”

“I know.” She sighed, backing up a step so that he wasn’t so boxed in. “I know.”

He wetted his lip. “I’m afraid of getting hurt again, Nat.”

“I know you are, Steve. But…” She leaned against his shoulders, her arms pinning him down. She
seemed to ponder it, the best way to say whatever was on her mind. “But you’re denying yourself a
lot of the love that you deserve as well, Steve. If you get hurt, I’m still going to be here. I’ll still
love you. You can sleep on my couch. We’ll eat Ben and Jerry’s together. I’ll cry with you. But
things might work out- and I think that’s what you’re really afraid of.”

He rustled the sheet, knocking some of his hair to the ground. “You don’t cry,” he said.

“I cry every time you cry,” she said, picking locks of hair off of him. “I cried that first night you
came back- remember?”

He gazed up at her. “I won’t quit,” he said at last. “I don’t want to quit.”

“Good.” She pushed him back. “Now sit back. Your hair’s a goddamn mess.”

He was quiet the rest of the time it took for her to cut his hair, letting her do her work. She
hummed a song under her breath, working efficiently, her fingers quick against his scalp. He didn’t
know why he got afraid the way he did. He’d never been this way before the war. It felt like only
part of him had come home. Where had the other part gone? Who was he now?

“Alright, you ready to look?”

“Yeah,” he agreed.

She turned him around so that he was facing the mirror. He studied himself. She’d left the top of
his hair long, much longer than he’d ever been allowed to have it in the army. The sides and back
she’d clipped short, not a buzz cut per se, but something close to it. She mussed his hair with her
fingers. “What do you think? Want me to fix it?”

“I don’t look like a soldier anymore,” he said in wonder.

“To be fair, you’re not a soldier anymore,” she said. “Alright, let me get the clippers-”

“No.”

She glanced down at him in the mirror’s reflection. “No?”

He ran his own fingers through the hair. Longer than it should be, short enough that he didn’t have
to style it necessarily. Soft. He used fancy shampoo now. He’d always used a 2 in 1 shampoo
conditioner combo in the army. And he wasn’t a soldier anymore. He thought about Don’t Ask,
Don’t Tell. He thought about Mr. Stark and the two little kids who were most definitely waiting
for him at home. “No, I want to try it,” he said, his voice sounding a little hoarse to his own ears.
“I’m really not a soldier anymore, am I?”

She threw herself around his neck, pressing kisses to his cheek and his shoulder. “Not a soldier
anymore, but still a captain,” she said cheerfully. “And I love you too. You’re healing.”

“I’m healing,” he repeated softly. “I never thought I would.”

 Chapter 19

Mr. Stark’s phone was buzzing. Again.

“Are you sure you don’t need to get that?” he asked, even though Mr. Stark had already dismissed
it when it first started happening.

“It’s my business partner. He knows I’m busy.”

“Obadiah?” Steve was careful to keep his tone neutral. The older man gave him the creeps.
Something about the way he looked at the mechanic, how possessive he was of Mr. Stark, how he
didn’t seem to like it when Mr. Stark spent time away from the company.

“The one and only.” Mr. Stark seemed to be examining the art on the wall in front of them. Steve
folded his arms around himself. “Pete drew that,” Mr. Stark commented next, surprising Steve.

He looked up. There was a picture with Pete’s messy scrawl at the bottom indeed. He got up. It
looked like Pete had drawn himself, Morgan, Mr. Stark, Steve, and the Jarvises. “We’re a
testosterone heavy household,” he remarked. “Good find.”

Mr. Stark got to his feet as well. This close it was hard not to compare the two of them. Mr. Stark
was shorter, a little gray in his hair, and less muscular than Steve, yes, but also had this incredible
presence about him. He’d thrown a blazer over a kitten t-shirt and jeans. Christ, Steve had tried
harder to dress up for this.

“Obie knows that I’m doing something important,” the other man remarked. “I made that clear. He
just doesn’t think it’s important.”

“He doesn’t think your children are important?”

“He thinks it’s ridiculous that I’m keeping them at their normal pacing,” Mr. Stark said distantly.
“When I was their age my father had already pushed me through a few grades.”

“That sounds terrible,” Steve said, making an effort to keep looking at the artwork in front of them.

Mr. Stark flashed a smile at him. “It was shitty,” he agreed. “I make a fair amount of mistakes, but
I won’t do that-”

“Mr. Stark? Oh, and you brought-?”

“Steve Rogers. My children’s nanny.” Mr. Stark held out a hand, shaking the obviously flustered
secretary’s hand.

“Hey.”

“Right. Mr. Rogers, of course,” she said, regaining whatever had slipped in that moment. Steve
wasn’t sure what people thought when they saw them together, just that he’d noticed whenever
they went out in public, they got a certain amount of looks, whispers, and hidden conversations. He
wasn’t naive, sure, but he’d been dropping the kids off at this preschool for the past month-

Mr. Stark’s phone buzzed again. Steve heard him mutter, ‘for god’s sake’ again as he declined
another call. “Mrs Watson,” he said, reaching out a hand and shaking hers as well. “Let me turn off
my phone and then we can start. I believe you already know Captain Rogers.”
“Yes, how are you, Mr. Rogers?” she asked, glancing his way.

“Good, good. Thanks for meeting with us.” He played with his shirt sleeves nervously. For a
preschool teacher, Morgan’s teacher was formidable. “We wanted to make sure that Morgan is
doing okay in school. Happy, fitting in, so on-” He looked over at Mr. Stark. The other man had
nodded along to what he was saying.

“Academically, Morgan is doing just fine. She says that you read at home every day and it shows.
She’s quick to learn new skills. She enjoys hearing about new topics.”

“And regarding other aspects of her schooling-?”

She looked Mr. Stark in the eye then, not an easy task, Steve knew. “She tries. We’ve seen
improvement, especially recently.”

“How is she struggling?” Mr. Stark asked softly, directly.

“She can be boisterous, hard to refocus, and-” She seemed to think it over carefully. “Adamant in
what she wants, often to the detriment of her relationships with others.”

“Sometimes I think, Mrs Watson, that if Morgan was a boy, she’d be praised for her forwardness,”
Mr. Stark said next. Steve glanced at him. Mr. Stark’s tone was mild, his body relaxed, but there
was something in his eyes.

“Morgan’s qualities could be strengths for her,” her teacher agreed. “I’m concerned that she seems
isolated, however. Does this happen at home as well?”

“She has her brother,” Steve said. “She plays with him. She’s with me or Mr. Stark or my family.”

The older woman dipped her head. “At school, she seems rather reluctant to join in with other
children or new activities.”

Steve didn’t know what to think. On the one hand, they seemed to be implying that Morgan was
bossy verging on a bully, on the other hand, they were also saying that she was shy? Mr. Stark
settled a hand on the back of his chair, his fingertips touching Steve’s back. “What would you
recommend?” he asked quietly.

“There’s a girl in my Tuesday/Thursday classes that gets along well with Morgan. We’ve set up
some opportunities for them to work one on one. Morgan seems to enjoy it. I would keep
reinforcing positive behaviors at home. Perhaps offer other opportunities for socialization. Are
there other children in your life?”

“No,” Mr. Stark said, but Steve shrugged and the mechanic looked to him. “I have some nephews,”
Steve said, knowing it sounded stupid. “Maybe we can set up playdates with them. I can take both
kids to the library more often, museums, different things out in the community-”

Her teacher hummed. “I like Morgan, Mr. Stark,” she said abruptly. “She’s got a good sense of
humor, she doesn’t suffer fools, and she can be very kind when she wants to be. Have you ever
considered grief counseling for her?”

“Grief counseling?” Mr. Stark seemed taken aback. “Her mom died when she was three. I don’t
think she remembers what happened very much, if at all.”

“Kids pick up on more than we give them credit for,” Mrs. Watson said. “I know this is hard to
hear. Death is hard for a three year old to grasp and at four, it’s not much more permanent. But
kids do notice when we’re sad and they notice certain absences. Sometimes their behavior is just
them filling these holes.”

Steve could see something welling up inside of the mechanic. He resisted the urge to touch him;
Mr. Stark had never made much physical contact with him, even in their own home, let alone out
in public- “We can discuss it,” he said, stepping in and drawing off the attention in the room.

“We were all sorry for your loss, Mr. Stark,” the older woman said rather kindly as she got up.
“Take some time to discuss what we talked about. I’ll be back in the classroom. I understand you
might want to dismiss Morgan early, seeing as you’re already here.”

“Yes, we’ll come get her in just a couple of minutes,” Steve agreed, flashing her a smile.

The door closed behind her. “Are you okay?” he asked immediately, unable to stop himself.

Mr. Stark looked up vaguely, as if he’d been somewhere else. “Yes, of course,” he said. He
coughed, clearing his throat. “Captain. I’m grateful you were here. Sounds like you’ve done a lot to
fill the holes in our lives.”

“I don’t know if I’d call them holes,” he said, squeezing the back of his neck. He scooted closer to
Mr. Stark, brushing his knee against the other man’s thigh. “Morgan still has you. You haven’t let
her down at all.”

The mechanic took off his tinted sunglasses then, rubbing at his face. “It never occurred to me that
she’s grieving. I mean, she used to ask where my wife was, after it happened, but Peter-” He
tightened his mouth, shaking his head. “Pete… and then she just stopped asking about her, but
Peter never did, and she seemed content-”

“It sounds like she is happy, overall,” he said, grabbing Mr. Stark’s hand. “Tony… look at me. I’m
your friend slash employee. You’re not in this alone. Try to get yourself together a little more and
then we’ll collect Morgan. My mom has Pete. We can bring her out to lunch or go watch a movie.
Everything will be fine.”

“Does your mom mind being our impromptu babysitter?” Mr. Stark asked, getting to his feet.

“My mom thinks me being a nanny is the closest she’s going to get to grandchildren,” he said,
deadpan.

Mr. Stark laughed at that. “She has no faith in you? You’re so handsome. I’m pretty sure you’re
the kindest man I know. It’s absurd that nobody’s snatched you up so far-”

“And yet, here I am,” he said, his heart beating fast. “I seem to have missed a step at some point.
Come on- let’s go get your girl.”

“I have to go back to SI after lunch,” Mr. Stark murmured. “Problems in our weapons
manufacturing line. That’s part of the problem, isn’t it? I’m always at work.”

“We’ll have a fun afternoon and see you at dinner,” Steve said, holding the door. “Her classroom’s
down this way- I’ll show you.”

Morgan was ecstatic to see both of them, practically vibrating with excitement. She gave Mr. Stark
an impromptu tour of the classroom, introducing him to her classmates and showing him the toys,
sounding so much like she was the mayor of a city that Steve had to chew on the inside of his
cheek to keep a straight face. He collected her coat and bag from her cubby and when she was
finally bundled up and ready to go, he took her other hand.
 Chapter 20

“You’re going to be okay?” he asked again, rather anxiously.

Mr. Stark flashed an amused smile at him. “Captain, I’m giving you an early start to your
weekend. For god’s sake, take it- I can be with my own children for a couple of hours.”

“Of course, I just worry,” he said hastily.

“I know you do. You’re very sweet. But I’ll be fine.” Mr. Stark gave him half a grin. “I’m not
worried so you can’t be either. That’s how it works.”

“I thought how it actually worked was that we take turns being worried so that we’re covered at all
times-”

Mr. Stark laughed at that, his laughter warm and full throated. “Next time I bring the kids to the
movies, I’ll bring you with me. Sound good? I’ll even buy you popcorn.”

“And a soda.”

“Well, that might be asking way too much, Cap.” But he winked.

He wished he could photograph Mr. Stark in these moments when his eyes sparkled with mirth or
the teasing curve of his lips. Thus far, he’d forced himself to abstain from drawing Tony. Bad
enough that he sketched the kids in his absentminded moments, like this morning when they were
both at school…

“Tell you what, Captain,” Mr. Stark said slyly. “I’ll bring you to the movies sometime. Without the
kids even.”

He cocked his head. “Just don’t tell them- they’d be so mad.”

“Then your task this weekend is to find a movie we’ll both enjoy.” Mr. Stark rapped his knuckles
against Steve’s arm. “Enjoy your night out. You coming back here afterwards?”

“That’s the plan,” he said.

“Good. Feel free to visit. I like our nightly conversations…”

Steve nodded, his mouth dry. “I’ll get the kids,” he said. He sprinted up the stairs, looking in
Morgan’s room first, and then in Peter’s. They were building some sort of castle structure with a
combination of blocks, legos, and Barbie household items. He winced a little- the room was a
disaster zone. “Hey,” he said, standing in the doorway. “Time to go.”

“Why aren’t you going with us?” Peter asked as they went down the stairs.

“Daddy wants some special time with you alone. You’ll have to tell me all about the movie.”

“Why aren’t you wearing your pajamas?” Morgan asked Mr. Stark, cutting across Peter.

Mr. Stark had been typing; now, he pocketed his phone. “I don’t look as cute as you guys do in my
pjs. Besides, it’ll be bedtime for you two when we get home. My night will be just barely starting.”
He winked at Steve. Steve shook his head at the man, barely suppressing a grin. “Give Steve his
goodnight hugs.”
“You’re not going to be here when we get back?” Morgan asked, her hands naturally finding their
way to her hips. “Where are you going to be?”

Morgan was going to make a great mother someday, if the overblown indignation was any
indication. She might have been wearing a pair of unicorn footsie pajamas but she looked
formidable. Steve pecked her on the nose. “I’m going to see my friends.”

“You do that a lot,” she said rather accusingly.

“Mm hm,” he agreed. “I like my friends. Come here, Pete.” He squeezed Peter to him.

“Are you going to hug Daddy?”

“You have to, Steve-”

He looked up at Mr. Stark from his position on the floor. “I have to-?” he asked, looking at the
other man appraisingly. Mr. Stark briefly took his hands out of his pockets to hold them open. He
shook his head at Steve’s question. “You never have to do anything,” he said softly.

“Still, for the kids’ sake,” Steve said, pushing to his feet.

“Oh, alright then. For their sake-” He gestured Steve forward.

Mr. Stark hugged like a dad. Somehow, even though Steve was taller than Mr. Stark by several
inches, he found himself folding down into the mechanic’s space. Mr. Stark hugged like a man
would- strong arms and broad shoulders and Steve hadn’t let many other men touch him this way
in a long while. Wrapping his arms around Mr. Stark’s waist, he locked his arms around the man.
“Have fun, Tony,” he whispered.

His friends were there before he had time to get sad.

‘Come on out, loser,’ a text from Nat read.

He had no idea what they were planning on doing that night and hoped they weren’t going to
another dive bar. They’d run into Sharon last week and while he could admit that he was rapidly
falling out of love with her, it had still hurt to see her there being pawed up by his former boss- She
didn’t even like that kind of thing, seriously-

He grabbed his jacket with the flannel lining- Natasha had suggested he might get cold- and let
himself out of the house. There was Sam’s little buggy parked by the curb. “Seriously, Sam?” he
asked, crawling into the backseat. “75% of this car’s population is six feet and over- when are you
going to get a real car?”

“You shut your whore mouth,” Sam said, folding his seat back into place.

Steve jostled a six pack of beer jammed in the space near his feet. He looked at Natasha. “Hey,
beautiful,” he said.

“Hi handsome.”

“Do you know what we’re doing tonight?” he asked.

“We’re not going to a bar,” she said. “Hence the beer.” He sighed in relief, slumping into her arms.
“There’s some ginger ales in the trunk,” Bucky added, reaching back blindly and squeezing Steve’s
knee. “How was your week?”
“Mm, magical, same as always,” he joked, closing his eyes.

“Did you eat dinner?”

“We ate…”

“Don’t get too comfy back there, Skippy,” Sam said, also blindly groping behind him and generally
whacking Steve, Natasha, and Bucky in the process. “Keep those baby blues open, Steve Rogers.”

“I’m not sleepy, just comfortable.”

“Yeah, but you can sleep just about anywhere,” Bucky said sagely.

“So wake me when we get there.”

It seemed like five minutes later they were shaking him awake again; he’d slumped against Nat,
her fingers in his hair, and Bucky’s coat thrown over him. “Oh. It’s later,” he said, looking
speculatively at the sky where the sun had fully gone down now.

“Yep. Come on. Grab your share of the stuff-”

“You really can sleep anywhere, Steve.”

He tucked a cooler against one hip and all four folding chairs under his other arm and stumbled out
into the darkness after his friends. Wherever they were going, it was deserted; there were no other
people in sight. They definitely weren’t in Manhattan anymore, nor anywhere close to it. All he
could see around them were trees.

Natasha flicked on a flashlight. “Watch your step,” she called.

“What are we doing?” he asked, sliding down a path.

“You’ll see.”

They trekked through the woods a short distance and into a clearing. Bucky was already rolling out
a blanket on the ground. Steve pivoted, looking all around them. He could feel himself smiling.
“Are we looking at the sky?” he asked.

“Stargazing,” Bucky confirmed. “You had such a bad time at the bar last week, we thought we’d
do something special.”

Steve closed his mouth. His friends were the best. There wasn’t a good way to express it. Instead,
he set the cooler down on the ground beside the blanket and began setting up chairs. Sam tumbled
down into one beside Bucky; Steve could hear them beginning to quarrel and he grinned- they
were always getting into it with each other.

He opted to lay down on the blanket, folding his arms onto his stomach and looking at the sky
above them. Natasha crawled down beside him. “Hey,” she said.

“Hey.”

“Remember we used to do this when we were teens?”

“We used to try,” he laughed. “Can’t see shit from Brooklyn-” But the warmth of her snug against
his side was familiar. Moments like these, he felt complete again. “Thank you,” he breathed into
her hair. “You guys-”
“So you always liked your stars then, Steve?” Sam called.

He was mentally cataloging the different constellations above him. “Hm? Yes. My dad got me into
it. I miss my dad. This is great.”

They got into it; Steve stuck to the ginger ales. Natasha had gotten them cupcakes from the fancy
bakery in her neighborhood. She had a funny story about tripping in a crosswalk that kept Steve
bent from laughter. They wanted to know everything about Steve’s life.

“So you call him Tony sometimes and ‘Mr. Stark’ other times? Isn’t that hard to keep track of?”

“He’s Tony when I’m off duty-”

“Why not just all the time? Is this some kink-?”

“Ugh, gross. Steve doesn’t have kinks.”

“Of course, he does- everyone does- You certainly do-”

He felt around for Bucky’s ankle, giving it a little squeeze. His friend leaned over, looking down at
him. ‘What’s wrong with them?’ he mouthed at the brunette. Bucky scoffed, shaking his head.
“You’re happy, Stevie?”

Bucky rarely called him that anymore- it was easier to pull off as six year olds than as thirty six
year olds. He blinked gently. “Yes,” he said decisively. “I think I am.”

“He wasn’t what I expected, that time we met him-”

“No, I think he puts on something of a public persona…”

Natasha and Sam had stopped squabbling to listen. Natasha rolled, tucking herself neatly into
Steve’s side. She dropped her head onto his arm. “Sharon was looking a lot at you, last week,” she
said, her voice speculative. Steve shrugged. He’d noticed it too. Of course, these long looks were
interspersed with moments where Brock seemed to be trying to suck the skin off her face. “You
weren’t looking back.”

“You saw what they were doing,” he said rather indignantly. “Who would want to watch that?”

“Nat thinks she was trying to get your attention,” Sam said, taking another sip of his beer.

“She could have just said ‘hi’ like a normal person,” he said drowsily. Sugar from three cupcakes
was making him slightly comatose despite his catnap in the car.

“But you didn’t want her to, anyways.”

“Nah.”

“Steve, there’s something you should know.” He opened his eyes again, quirking his head. “We all
had lunch the other day and took a vote. We think you should tell Tony you’re attracted to him.”

“What…?”

“Tell him you like him, tell him you’d like to get to know him better, tell him more about you,”
Sam delineated for him. “You deserve it.”

He felt a flash of fear, like pain in his chest. “Steve, Sharon didn’t treat you well,” Natasha said
softly. “You deserve better.”

“I’m not going to tell him out of nowhere-”

“He likes you,” she said insistently. “He likes you too. But you’re too similar- neither one of you
willing to make a move, pining away after each other…”

“I’ve known him for barely two months,” he argued. But he knew this was different. He’d been
with Sharon over two years and she’d left him the moment Rumlow had shown interest in her. “He
doesn’t know about me,” he said helplessly. “He doesn’t know-” His breath caught in his throat.

“You haven’t dated any men since you got out of the army,” Bucky observed.

“I made out with that guy on New Year’s Eve-”

“Did you enjoy it?”

No. He’d felt like he was trying to prove something to himself and to those around him. That he
was fine. That he still liked what he’d liked before. And he’d wanted it on some level. But the guy
had tasted like cigarettes and flat beer and he’d shoved his tongue down Steve’s throat and Steve,
Steve had taken it, but no- he hadn’t liked it. He figured his silence was enough of an answer.

“What if we all got together?” Sam tried with the air of someone making a last ditch effort. “You
said his friends are all kind of scattered right now- sounds lonely, man. We won’t out you or
anything like that. But we could kind of… I don’t know. Sound him out.”

“Maybe,” he agreed hesitantly. He shivered. “It’s getting cold.”

“The beer’s run out. Let’s head for the car-”

And they fell about the place, tidying up. Natasha swept her flashlight over the spot after they’d
packed everything up, making sure they’d left nothing behind. Other conversations cropped up, a
little more muted than before.

“Hey,” Bucky said, falling in beside him.

“Hey.”

“You know we love you?”

He smiled. “Yes.”

“You know we’re not forcing you to do anything?”

He ducked his head. “I know that.”

“I’ll love you even if you never say a word to anyone,” Bucky said fiercely. He lowered his voice,
his own flashlight sweeping the ground in front of them. “But Nat’s right. So’s Sam. You deserved
better.”

And Steve knew somehow, that Bucky wasn’t just talking about Sharon. He hummed. Bucky took
his hand.

“I felt like less of a man,” he whispered. “After it happened.”

“I felt helpless,” Bucky admitted.

“I think, sometimes… like who would want to put up with all my baggage?” To his horror, his eyes
had filled unexpectedly with tears. He drew back, coming to a halt.

“You’re more than these bad feelings, Steve.” Bucky gripped his neck, pulling them together so
that his forehead was pressed against Steve’s. Steve inhaled; he missed being touched so
intimately, he really did. Perhaps that’s why Natasha held him so much. “You don’t think you’ll
ever tell him what happened to you?” Bucky asked.

He felt like someone had spilled something cold down the back of his neck. “Why would I?” he
asked, shivering reflexively.

“You said you were kind of becoming friends with him. And that he flirts with you. I just think-”

“He’s not going to hurt me,” Steve whispered. “I know he would never. I just don’t even think he
likes men, not like this-”

“Sure, course, Steve. Hey- you were having fun. I’m sorry, punk.” Bucky let go, taking a step
back. He looked genuinely upset and Steve felt bad that he’d been the cause of this. Of course,
Buck was just trying to help him. Buck had been looking out for him as long as they’d known each
other.

“Thanks for tonight,” he said. “I loved it. And I’ll think about what you guys said.”

“That’s all we ask.”

 Chapter 21

“Steve. Steve!”

Something was tugging on his hand. He snorted a little, waking half the way up. “What…?”

“Steve, wake up-” That was Morgan.

He sat up abruptly, blanket falling to his lap. “Morgan? Pete-? What’s going on, babies? You guys
okay?”

“Daddy sounds sick,” Peter said, trying and failing to launch himself onto Steve’s bed. “He’s
coughing.”

Steve lowered himself down so that he was pressed flat on his belly, leaning over the edge. “Daddy
sent you to get me?” he asked, feeling like someone had hit him with a very large anvil.

“No, we came to get you,” Morgan said, her chin pointed out in determination. “You have to take
care of Daddy. That’s what you do!”

“I take care of you guys,” he said, but he was already waking up more. “Alright, listen, I’ll check in
on Daddy, but you guys have to go back to bed. I’ll walk you back to your beds. Hang on- turn
around.”

“Why?” Morgan asked. Peter had already obediently spun around.

“Cause I don’t have pants on, baby-”

“You sleep naked?” she asked incredulously. “Where are your pajamas?”

“Morgan, please- your dad’s sick.” He waited until she’d turned around, finding his sweatpants on
the floor and climbing into them rapidly. “Adults don’t get pjs like you guys do. Come on.” He
yawned widely. “Hold my hands on the stairs.”

They wanted to watch him fix Mr. Stark; he blatantly refused. After telling them they’d done the
right thing in getting him, he put them both in bed.

They were right though- he could hear Mr. Stark coughing from their bedroom. ‘Must be pretty
bad,’ he thought. The walls were pretty thick here. “Daddy’s okay,” he assured Peter, hustling him
into his bed. “Everyone gets a cold from time to time.”

“You’ll fix him, won’t you?”

“I’ll do my best, buddy. Give me a kiss.” He hugged Pete distractedly. “Night, honey.”

Making his way down the hall to the back of the house, he braced himself on the threshold of the
door. ‘Don’t be a coward,’ he told himself. ‘You were a soldier. Get in there.’ Sighing through his
nose, he knocked briefly on the door and then pushed it open. “Tony?” he called.

A pause. “Captain?”
]
“It’s me,” he agreed, leaning on the doorframe. “Can I come in?”

There was a snick and then the lights were on in the room. Steve groaned, shielding his eyes from
the sudden change in light. “So it’s ‘Tony’ tonight is it?”

“It would be inappropriate for me to be in my boss’s bedroom. I’m hanging with my bestie,” he
said, determined to keep a straight face. “The kids came to get me.”

Mr. Stark had sat up in bed. His face was half covered by the blanket. His eyes looked swollen. He
gazed at Steve miserably. “...they could hear me from their rooms?”

“Everyone in a five block radius can hear you coughing. Have you taken any medicine?”

“No, I just planned on hacking my way into an early grave.”

“So that’s a no? You can’t leave me with the two kids. I’d have to get a real job,” he said bluntly.
“God you look like hell.”

“You’re mean to your friends. I think I want to go back to being your boss-” The mechanic
attempted to flop back down again, but, darting into the room, Steve grabbed his arm.

“I might be mean, but you’re impossible. Did you actually take medicine?” Mr. Stark shook his
head. He pressed his palm to the mechanic’s forehead. Mr. Stark was radiating heat. “My god.
Come on- I’ll make you some tea. We’ll find the cough medicine. And you’re not going to work
tomorrow.”

“I bet we had a beautiful wedding, Captain-”

“The wedding night couldn’t have been too great, I don’t even remember it,” Steve retorted.

Mr. Stark had been about to sneeze, but he inhaled sharply when he laughed, making an odd
wheezing noise. He leaned heavily on Steve, apparently trusting him to get them both down to the
first floor. “You’d remember sleeping with me, best bud,” he said, not really selling it at that
moment by covering his eyes and moaning.

“I’ve never been less attracted to you than at this moment,” Steve said blithely. He forced Tony to
sit down at the kitchen table and began filling the kettle.

“And you are normally…?”

“Everyone’s attracted to you. Look in the mirror. Look at all those jealous biddies at your gala.”
Steve really should shut his mouth. Two hours of sleep apparently loosened his tongue. Still, he
wanted to have a job in the morning.

“Captain, I like this feisty side of you. Is this how you normally are at 2:30 in the morning?”

“Normally I’m asleep and in my bed,” he said, rifling through the medicine cupboard. “Down the
hatch-” He put a little plastic cup of cough medicine in front of the mechanic. “You have a fever,”
he added, palming his forehead again. “Really high. When did you start feeling sick?”

“Uh… Thursday?”

“Tony, that was four days ago.”

“Normally it passes through pretty quickly. And quietly too.” He suppressed another cough.

The kettle was just beginning to whistle and Steve yanked it off the stove before it could really get
going and disrupt the kids more. He poured out a mug of tea for Tony and hot chocolate for
himself.
“You really go above and beyond,” Tony murmured, accepting the mug. “Pretty sure this wasn’t in
your contract.”

“Like I said, after hours you’re just my friend. I’d do this for any of them.”

“Mm,” Tony took a deep drink of his tea. “Was hoping I was special.”

“Oh, Tony, of course you’re special.” He leaned on his hand, yawning. “My best guy-”

“Now, you’re just patronizing me.” Tony coughed again.

“Here-” Invading the other man’s space, he pressed a palm to the mechanic’s chest and pushed him
forward with his other hand. “I used to have asthma, this helped when I was a kid. My dad-” There
was a topic he didn’t want to talk about in the moment. “He used to do this for me.” He rubbed
slow, heavy circles across Mr. Stark’s back.

“You didn’t include physical therapy on your resume,” Mr. Stark commented.

“I don’t like to show off.”

“That is where we’re different, Captain.” Mr. Stark was closing his eyes and Steve turned him,
leaning him against his shoulder. “What happens if I fall asleep here?”

“I know I could carry you,” he said sleepily. “If you’re worried-”

He sat Mr. Stark back up in his seat, blushing faintly. He should have asked before he’d gotten
handsy with the man like this. For all their joking, Mr. Stark wasn’t his friend the way that the
others were.

“So the kids woke you up…”

“Apparently I take care of everyone.”

“You do a good job…”

He looked into Mr. Stark’s mug. Almost done. The coughing had stopped, at least. “Come on,” he
said at last. “Let’s get you back upstairs before you really do fall asleep.”

Pulling the man to his feet, he wrapped an arm around Mr. Stark’s waist. He’d only meant to get
the mechanic up the stairs, but having done so, he figured he might as well walk the rest of the way
to the room.

“Captain… thanks…”
 Chapter 22

Mr. Stark wasn’t at breakfast in the morning. “I called Miss Potts and let her know that Mr. Stark
would be out of the office,” Jarvis said, pouring Steve a cup of coffee.

“You’re the best,” Steve said, feeling like he was weighed down by rocks. He had gone back to
bed after laying the mechanic down and he’d been tired, but he hadn’t slept. He’d laid in bed for
two more hours, thinking about what he’d said and hoping that he hadn’t crossed the boundaries
too far. He’d finally fallen asleep right around the time he normally would have been going out for
a run.

He drove Morgan to school in lieu of walking, took Pete home, and dragged the boy’s lego box
down to the library. “So we don’t wake up Daddy. He needs some extra sleep.”

Steve needed some extra sleep too apparently because come late morning, he fell asleep in Pete’s
bed while the toddler played with his toy cars.

Jarvis woke him at noon. “Ana’s going to get Morgan from school. Would you like me to take
Peter?”

“Oh sh- shoot,” he said, sitting up abruptly. “I shouldn’t have fallen asleep.”

“Mr. Stark says you were up late taking care of him. Makes sense that you’re tired.”

“Did Mr. Stark wake up then?” Steve glanced at his watch. “He didn’t go to work, did he?”

“He’s banned from the lab, the garage, and anywhere else he might do something productive.”

“Daddy’s watching TV,” Pete said, popping up at Jarvis’s side. “I said I’d come get you.” He even
took Steve’s hand as they went down the stairs. Steve got the sense that Peter was leading him, this
time, making sure that he didn’t fall. He felt better after his cat nap.

Mr. Stark was propped on the couch, his attention on the television that they didn’t use too often,
all things considered. “You find him, baby boy?” he called.

“I got him!” He leaned against Steve’s legs when Steve dropped into the armchair across from the
couch. “Daddy says I can’t sit with him cause he’s got germs.”

“Daddy doesn’t want you getting sick.” Steve picked him up under his armpits, settling Pete on his
lap. “Sorry I fell asleep, baby.”

“You needed a nap,” Pete said, petting his hands.

“That’s right.” He looked at the television. “Is this Mary Tyler Moore?”

“I used to watch it with my mom. She loved the show.”

“Mine too,” he said faintly.

Things got more complicated when Morgan came home. “Why are you still sick?” she yelled,
running into the room and skidding into one of the sofas. She managed to startle both Peter and
Mr. Stark, twin frissions running almost like electric energy through the room. “You already slept!
Did you give him medicine?” she asked Steve.
“He took his medicine. Mo, we need you a little quieter, please? Come here-” He drew her into a
hug. She was staring at her dad, giving him something of a death glare. She looked at Steve. “This
is boring,” she declared.

“You’ve only been home two minutes.”

“School was more fun.”

“Why don’t you color with me and Pete?”

“No…”

He wasn’t sure why she was in such a mood- she’d literally been fine that morning, but she did
seem to be heading into something of a sulky state of mind. He gathered the kids up, wanting Mr.
Stark to try to get some rest. Mr. Stark protested that it wasn’t really necessary but he looked
practically ashen.

He brought them back to the playground, hoping that Morgan would run some of her energy (and
attitude) out of her system. Morgan kept him running, chasing her down as she went further than
she was supposed to, swung down the fireman’s pole (nearly giving him a heart attack in the
process), and walked directly in front of a bigger boy on the swings.

Pete was not having fun and he almost wished he had left the five year old at home with his father;
he felt sure that if Mr. Stark had laid down for a nap, Pete would have been happy to go down with
him. As it was, Pete got tugged in Steve’s wake while Steve chased her down from her more
dangerous pursuits.

Everyone was miserable by the time they got home.

The questions started mid dinner. Morgan practically pestered Mr. Stark, leaving no room for the
rest of them to have a normal conversation, the questions ratcheting up in intensity until- “Are you
really sick? Are you going to die?”

Steve opened his mouth to say something- what, he wasn’t sure. Peter surprised them all- he beat
Steve to it. “Stop it! That’s mean!”

“Hey, hey,” Mr. Stark said faintly. He shuffled upwards, trying to sit up. “Come on, kids-”

“She’s always saying bad things! Morgan’s mean!” Pete burst into messy tears, throwing himself
on Mr. Stark’s lap. “You can’t die, Daddy! I need you.”

“Nobody’s going to die,” Mr. Stark soothed. “I’m okay. Come on, give me a hug.” He looked over
Pete’s head at Steve; Steve wrapped his arms around Morgan’s middle, pulling her close.

“I’m not mean,” she whispered to Steve.

It was almost hard to hear her over Pete’s sobbing. “You don’t mean to be,” he said, rubbing her
stomach. “I think you just scared Peter.”

She widened her eyes. “I’m not scary,” she said, her lower lip wobbling.

She ducked under Steve’s arm, crawling up the chair and into Mr. Stark’s lap. He held out his
other arm and she slipped in. When she got close to Peter, he whined, moving away from her. He
was really mad this time, Steve realized, watching Peter tuck his hands away so that only Mr. Stark
was touching him.
“Make him hug me,” she whined to her dad.

“Momo, he doesn’t have to hug you. He’s having some big feelings right now.”

“He’s always having big feelings. What about me?”

“I’m here for both of you. That means I have to give you both love.” He held them both close.
“Pete’s feeling pretty sad right now. Can I talk to him for a little bit? And then I’ll check in with
you?”

“Come with me, Morgan,” Steve enticed. “Please? We can sit on the steps while we wait.” He had
to gently tug on her to get her moving; he was also a little afraid of her bolting when they got
outside but at least they were in the fenced in backyard and he knew he’d be able to run her down
if he had to.

She surprised him, holding on to his hand. He exchanged a glance with Jarvis; the older gentleman
was already heading for the dining room. He exhaled when they got outside. Darkness was falling,
the air was cool. He took his hoodie off, draping it around her. “That’s better, isn’t it? Some fresh
air for both of us?”

Her lip was wobbling. “Daddy’s not allowed to get sick,” she said sharply. She sat down very
abruptly.

“Everyone gets sick sometimes,” he said gently. “Is that why you’re mad?”

“I don’t like it!”

“I know. I know, Morgan.”

“Am I bad?” she asked, breaking his heart a little.

“No,” he said firmly, sitting beside her on the steps. “You couldn’t be bad if you tried. And you
really do try, sometimes.”

She looked at him, turning her head in such an adult fashion that for a moment, it was like talking
to a 34 year old, not a four year old. He laughed at the expression on her face, a mix of surprise and
defiance and humor- that was Mr. Stark’s humor in her face. He grinned at her and after a minute,
her face relaxed into a faint smile as well.

“Come here, get closer,” he said, widening his stance. She crawled up into his lap and he held on
to her, taking some deep breaths. After a minute, he heard her begin to copy him. “It sounds like
Daddy being sick scared you,” he offered gently. She was quiet. “I think Peter felt scared.”

“My mommy was sick a lot,” she said, leaning back into his chest.

“I know.”

“I don’t remember her.”

His heart ached. His dad had died when he was a teenager and he still remembered the feeling of it
all, the constant sense of panic and the shameful relief when he’d finally died. He didn’t know
what was in Morgan’s head- none of them really knew, did they? But he could feel the sadness and
the confusion rising up in her and he wanted to take it away and he knew that he couldn’t.

“Peter misses Mommy,” she said with a nod.

“How do you feel?”

She whacked his knee ineffectually, jutting her little chin out. “I don’t want to be sad all the time! I
don’t want Peter sad all the time! I don’t remember her! It’s just us, here-” She curled into his hold.
“Is Peter going to be mad at me forever?”

“No, Peter’s very forgiving.” He nudged her. “It would be better if you apologized though.”

“But I don’t like doing that either.”

He laughed at that, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close. He dropped a kiss onto the
top of her head. “Nobody likes apologizing. It feels bad when you realize you’ve hurt someone you
love. But you’ll feel better afterwards too. I promise.”

She hummed. Turning around, she played with the collar of his shirt. “Do you ever say sorry?”

“Yes.”

“Is it hard?”

“Yes.” His heart was beating fast. He rubbed her back.

She sighed. Not even attitude this time, just a soft sound he wasn’t sure she’d intended on making.
“Okay,” she said. She threw her arms around his neck, all skinny arms and elbows and he hung
onto her; she needed him too, he reminded himself. Through all the bad behavior, she was just a
scared little girl. Ducking under his arm, she darted back into the house.

He sat on the step, looking up at the sky. He couldn’t really see the stars- there was too much light
pollution for that, but the sky was still beautiful. He could see clouds moving across the sky, deep
velvety pockets that belied the breadth of the sky. Maybe they could all go see the stars together,
he thought. Maybe-

“Can I join you, Captain?”

He glanced behind him. Mr. Stark was there, holding two mugs. He leaned casually on the door.
Steve quirked his lips. “My step is your step.”

“Ah well that’s true.” Mr. Stark handed him one of the mugs. He sounded clearer.

“This isn’t coffee,” Steve said in surprise.

“Captain, it’s 8 o’clock at night. It’s tea. Let’s just say I’m returning the favor.” Mr. Stark shifted
his weight, spreading himself so that they were shoulder to shoulder. “Morgan just apologized to
Peter. That was your doing, wasn’t it?”

“Did she really? I wasn’t sure she would.”

“She’s never really apologized before,” Mr. Stark said thoughtfully. “Not in a genuine way.”

“How’d she do?”

“Oh, she was awful-”

They both laughed at that. Steve could almost picture it; perhaps he should have gone in to watch.
Eh- well if this was her first time, there was only room to improve. “Did Pete forgive her?”
“Of course he did.”

Steve tapped Mr. Stark on the foot with his own. “How are you?” he asked, feeling a little dizzy, a
little afraid. “Are you okay?”

“Mm, feeling better.”

“Good. Nobody here’s happy when you feel sick.”

 Chapter 23

“This is crazy. We could have just gotten a costume at any one of the million Halloween pop up
stores-”

“And miss this fun?”

“We had to go to seven stores to find leg warmers- I’m surprised we found any at all-”

“You had fun with me, Captain. Don’t deny it.”

Steve bent down over the hat he was hot gluing, trying to will away the blush that was forming.
“I’m glad you’re better, Tony,” he said at last.

And he was. Mr. Stark had been rough the first couple of days of the week and had gradually
gotten better, but today was the first day that the mechanic had seemed completely back to himself.
And they’d spent the morning running around, trying to cobble together a pair of Halloween
costumes. For some reason, Mr. Stark had insisted they make the costumes themselves.

“At least they’ll be warm,” Mr. Stark said, sorting through the different bags. “Morgan’s got the
leggings, the leotard, the shorts, a windbreaker, and the leg warmers.”

“I can and can’t believe she wanted to be ‘that lady with the bright clothes on TV’,” Steve said
absently. He’d woken up one morning to find Morgan watching old jazzercise workouts from the
80s; he hadn’t even known there was a channel that picked those up still, but there she was doing
rapid toe touches and walking in place at 6 in the morning with Jane Fonda.

Pete wanted to be a black cat. Hence the cat ears Steve was gluing onto a knit cap.

“You’re a good sport, Captain.”

He flushed. “I want them to have fun,” he said mildly.

“You know what we never talked about?” Mr. Stark said to him next.

“What?”

“I’ve been thinking of changing my line of work,” the mechanic said, eyes on the tail he was
messily sewing to the seat of Pete’s pants. “We started talking about it, but never really got into it.”

“I forgot,” Steve said honestly. He frowned. “What would you do if you weren’t…?”

“I’m not breaking away from my company,” Mr. Stark assured him. “But I was thinking about you.
You said you got hurt during the war.”

“Oh. Yes. But not in the way you might think-”

“Stark industries has been manufacturing guns for the past 70 years,” Mr. Stark continued. “I
inherited the work and my inventions have been used to make some pretty deadly weaponry. I got
to thinking- what if my weapons had been used against you? When you were stationed out there-?
What if I was the one that had hurt you?”

“I was never shot,” Steve said weakly. His heart was beating fast. He looked up. Mr. Stark was
studying him. “But I see your point. So you want to move away from weapons manufacturing.”
“Yes.”

Steve was having a hard time thinking. He put the hat down carefully. “What would you do
instead?” he asked.

Now Mr. Stark’s eyes lit up. “For a long time now, I’ve been thinking about the legacy I’m
leaving. I want to transition our weapons department to green energy, sustainable technology,
prosthetics, internet safety, renewable energy-”

“You never do things by halves, do you?”

“Why would I?” Mr. Stark was grinning at him now and Steve felt some of the dizziness begin to
pass as they moved away from army contracts and weaponry. “Lately I’ve been thinking, how am I
going to explain to my kids that I create weapons? I don’t want them thinking weapons are okay- I
want them to have peaceful, safe lives-”

“They will,” Steve told him. “With the two of us looking out for them, how could they not?”

Mr. Stark busied himself with folding the last of Pete’s costume up. “I know you said you never
wanted to talk about how you got hurt, Captain,” he said carefully. “But if you ever change your
mind…”

“My friends think I should tell you what happened.”

“Oh yeah?”

He worked his jaw reflexively. “Yeah. Yeah, we talked about it the other day, when you went to
the movies with the kids-?”

“What do you want, Steve?”

He shrugged uneasily. “It’s not just you, you know. When I came back from my deployment, I
didn’t want to tell anyone about it. Natasha and Bucky already knew, of course. But I wouldn’t… I
met Sam at the VA? Did I tell you that-? He runs groups, for vets with PTSD…”

“Do you have PTSD?” Mr. Stark, his voice curious and non-judgmental.

Steve swallowed. “No. Not anymore. I was put into this intensive program, helps you process it-? I
was even cleared for service again, if I wanted to.”

“You’re not going to go back, are you?”

He shook his head violently. He knew that even though he’d been cleared for duty, duty was the
last thing that he should do. “Never,” he said. “I’ve had my fill.” He knew that many soldiers
would look down on this. Mr. Stark’s shoulders relaxed. He forced himself to breathe normally.

“Why did you become a soldier in the first place, Captain?”

“Bucky joined up,” he said, a touch confused. “Lots of guys from my old neighborhood did. That’s
how we could afford college. Got us out of our neighborhoods. There was a recession going on…
the money helped my mom. It’s just her…”

Mr. Stark tapped his lips with one finger. “You’ll tell me when you’re ready,” he said at last.
“There’s no pressure.”

“I-” When the mechanic’s eyes turned toward him, he exhaled. He always lost his nerve. Even in
Sam’s groups, it had been hard to talk about. “Talking about it always helped,” he whispered
finally. “When I could. I just- I can’t-”

“Captain,” Mr. Stark said, grabbing his hand and pulling him closer. He palmed the side of Steve’s
face. “You’re verging on a panic attack. Take some breaths with me. Do you want a distraction?”

“Yes,” he gasped.

“Tonight’s Halloween.” Steve nodded. “You’re keeping me company while the kids trick or
treat?” Another nod. “I get a bit nervous, the idea of them out there going door to door.”

“My mom’s house is in a pretty safe neighborhood,” he said, gripping Mr. Stark’s hand, keeping it
in place even though he felt absurd. “My friends-”

“Yes?”

“My friends are nosy,” he burst out. “I bet they’d join us, if you wanted more people around. Keep
us company.”

“Bucky and Sam,” Mr. Stark surmised.

“Bucky and Sam,” Steve confirmed. “They never expected me to be good with kids so they like to
see me ‘in action,’ if you will. Sam’s got some nephews. Bucky’s super protective.”

“You think they’d like to join us, this late in the game?”

“I think they were planning on ‘dropping in’ on my mom either way,” he said. He was finally calm
again. Stupid really, to panic like that. He dropped his hand. Mr. Stark thumbed his cheek before
letting go.

“Give them a call, Captain. The more the merrier, I say,” the mechanic said cheerfully. But his
eyes lingered on Steve and he looked faintly worried.
 Chapter 24

“We’ll meet you at your mom’s house,” Bucky said, when Steve called.

“You’re already there, aren’t you?”

“I told her I’d help with the decorations this year.”

He pulled his phone away from his ear to look at it incredulously. “Why didn’t she ask me? I’m her
son-”

“You’ve got the kids and I like to be handy. Plus, I had the afternoon off from the shop. I’m filling
her in on the gossip-” Here, Bucky cut off, clearly talking to someone else, his end of the
conversation suddenly muffled. Moments later, Steve’s mom was on the phone. “Bucky says that
you’re bringing Mr. Stark with you,” she said, by way of greeting.

“Momma. Don’t do anything that would embarrass me. I’m begging you.”

“Is he cute? Bucky says he’s nice to you. What have you told him about me?”

“Nothing, I don’t talk about my mom to my employer or anyone else- for that matter- Ma, please.
He’s my boss. What happened to making a good impression?”

“It went out the window when I turned 60-”

“I’m hanging up now. We’re bringing the kids and pizzas at five.”

“Bye, baby!”

He wandered down the stairs to the kids’ rooms. Mr. Stark was sitting in the middle of an
elaborately built marble run. Pete and Morgan were attaching the last of the spare pieces to the top
of the run. Mr. Stark brightened when he came back in. “Isn’t this cool?” he asked, peeking out
from behind the bright primary colored sections of piping. “They didn’t have these when I was a
kid. Or, I don’t think they did-?”

“They’re one of those toys that makes kids think,” Steve said, kneeling down on the ground. He
caught Morgan up in a hug when she passed him. “Hi, baby.”

“Who do you think will win the race?” she asked him, holding up a marble.

“Where are you putting your marble?” he asked. She pointed to a spout near her. “What about you,
Pete?”

Peter was examining the marble run carefully, his little tongue poking out from between his teeth.
Steve could almost see the calculations running through his head. “That- that one,” he said,
pointing at a green spout.

“Okay,” he said, trading a glance at the elder Stark. Mr. Stark winked at him. “Ready. On the
count of three: one- two- three-”

Morgan let go early on the count of two, but her marble got stuck in a vortex several times. Pete
predictably won- he’d clearly noticed that it would take longer to run through certain pieces of the
run and had avoided them. He’d thought there might be a tantrum coming, but Morgan just
grabbed a handful of marbles and began to feed them into the different spouts and Pete was quick
to follow.

“Are they coming?” Mr. Stark asked.

“They’re already there. And they’d love to.”

And that was how he found himself wedged into the car hours later, the two kids in their costumes
in the back, and five- five!- pizzas on his lap. “This is ridiculous,” he shot at Mr. Stark.

“I like a good variety, Captain.”

“Turn there- We’d all have to eat 8 pieces of pizza to make our way through all this. Plus you got
dessert-”

“Here?”

“No, the next turn. Yes- Are you listening to me?” The kids were laughing at them.

“I’m always listening to you,” Mr. Stark said, getting out of the car. He began unbuckling the kids,
first Morgan and then Peter. “Do you need help getting out?”

“No, I’ve got it-”

He ‘knocked’ on the door by banging his head against it theatrically. Morgan squealed with
laughter. A minute’s pause and then the door was open- “Give me those,” Sam said, grabbing the
boxes. “You guys buy out the pizza in this town?”

“After you, kids,” he said, gesturing them in. Mr. Stark hesitated on the bottom step, his brow
furrowed. “I’ll stick with you,” Steve promised. “Meeting everyone can be overwhelming. Nat’s
here too.”

“I’m okay,” Mr. Stark said. But he squeezed Steve’s hand on the way past.

He introduced Mr. Stark to his two male friends and his mother- Bucky and Sam were watching
him semi-suspiciously, but Steve’s mother swept him into an unexpected hug, making Steve
splutter. She kissed Mr. Stark’s temple and released him. Steve tried to apologize but then Natasha
was there, pecking Steve’s employer on the cheek and when she hugged him tight, Steve gave up
on trying. Mr. Stark didn’t seem upset, just very, very surprised. Steve didn’t think he’d ever seen
the mechanic so nonplussed.

They ate mostly standing up, except for Natasha who sat on the kitchen counters and his mother,
who sat with the kids at the cramped dining room table, oohing and aahing over their costumes.
‘She really should have been a grandmother by now,’ he thought, with some regret, watching her.

“Will you be lonely?” he asked, wrapping his arms around her shoulders when it was time to head
out.

“Natasha’s staying behind with me to hand out candy. I love seeing all the costumes. Make sure to
take pictures-”

It was probably overkill, having four adults to two little kids, but it made Steve feel safer. “He’s
quieter than I thought he’d be,” Bucky said, while they stood at the curb, watching Mr. Stark walk
up the first walkway to a front door, the kids holding on to his hands.

“Who can get a word in edgewise with your boyfriend here?” Steve joked, stamping his feet. He
smiled at the kids when they ran back to him.

True to his word, he took a lot of photos (possibly too many) of the kids in their costumes and
holding onto Daddy (his phone was rapidly filling up with photos of the Stark family). They
continued their broken conversation for the next four houses, but on the sixth house, the kids
insisted that Steve come up with them.

When he came back, he found Mr. Stark discussing improvements to Bucky’s prosthetic arm.
When he carried the kids back to the curb two houses later, the conversation had moved on to what
Steve was like as a child apparently.

“Bucky lies,” he advised the mechanic.

“So you didn’t like to dress up in your mom’s jewelry then?”

“Uh- mm- Babies, Daddy’s bringing you up to this next door-” He grabbed Bucky around the neck
as soon as the kids were out of sight, mock throttling him-

Pete got cold three streets away from the start and they decided to turn back. Steve wrapped his
coat around the five year old- it was much too big and trailed on the ground, but he couldn’t find it
in him to care. Pete was patient while Steve rolled the sleeves up; Morgan seemed closer to falling
asleep. Mr. Stark was carrying her.

Even Pete looked sleepy by the time they made it to Steve’s mom’s house. He perched in her lap,
telling her about what they’d seen in his soft sleepy voice. She had Morgan leaning against her.

Steve cut up the cake and brought slices out to the others. He crammed himself in between Mr.
Stark and Natasha, occasionally reaching across the coffee table with a bite of cake for his mom.

Sam and Bucky seized Steve as the others loaded the kids into the car. “Guys, the hell-?”

“We think he’s okay,” Bucky said.

“We think you should marry him,” Sam said.

“Oh my god, guys, I can’t-” He pecked Bucky on the cheek, shook Sam by the shoulders, and ran
for the car. “Bye, Momma, Nat, I love you-”

They slept in the next morning. Steve didn’t bother getting dressed for breakfast, just flopped
down in his sweats and a t-shirt that had been mildly ruined by bleach. He had only just filled his
plate when the butler came in. “Captain Rogers, there’s a Sharon Carter in the entrance hall, hoping
to see you,” Jarvis said.

He dropped the piece of bacon he was about to eat. “I’m sorry, what?” he asked, sure that he must
have heard the old butler wrong.

“A Sharon Carter, sir.”

“Oh,” he said blankly. “Oh, I guess-” He got to his feet, feeling rather dizzy. “I’ll be right back.
Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Can I come with you?” Morgan cried.

“No, honey. This won’t take long and it won’t be very interesting-” He got up, wondering what on
earth was happening with his life.
 Chapter 25

“Don’t get in the tub until Natasha comes in the bathroom with you,” Steve said, catching the kids
absently in hugs and squeezing them. “It’s not safe.”

“We won’t-”

“Go hug Daddy, please-”

Mr. Stark was talking to Natasha in the doorway. He caught them up in hugs, pressing kisses to
their faces and onto their shoulders and in their hair.

“Start getting undressed, I’ll be right there,” Natasha said, motioning them back into the room.
“Remember what Steve said about the tub.”

“The movie starts at 8:30. We should be back at 11. You’re welcome to stay in the guest room
afterwards,” Mr. Stark said. “Or I can drive you home.”

“I’ll sleep in Steve’s bed,” she said cheerfully, eyes on Steve’s boss.

Mr. Stark faltered just a little. “Lucky I’m not a jealous man, Miss Romanoff.”

“You’re definitely a jealous man,” she shot right back at him. “Anyways, Steve likes to cuddle.
And he’s good at it.”

“Noted.”

“Guys, please-” Steve was pretty sure they could have fried an egg on his forehead.

“Now we’re embarrassing him.” Natasha caught Steve by the arm, pulled him over, and hugged
him. “Take care of him, Tony. I want him back here in the same or better condition. Or I’ll have to
hurt you.”

“She doesn’t mean that,” Steve whispered, his ears flaming red.

“I think she does, actually,” Mr. Stark said thoughtfully. “She scares the hell out of me.” He
surprised Steve by pecking Natasha on the cheek. She just smiled faintly at him. Steve thought that
Natasha had grown fond of the mechanic somewhere along the way; he didn’t know when.

“Don’t let them stay up too late,” he said weakly.

He followed Mr. Stark down the stairs and through the building towards the back. “Per your
request, we’re taking a less flashy car,” Mr. Stark said. “Although I don’t know why we keep the
limo if we’re never going to use it.”

“How do you expect to blend in, Tony, if you always take the limo?”

“I don’t usually try to blend in. I have a very recognizable face.”

“That’s because of the goatee-”

Mr. Stark faked gasped, slapping a hand down on the top of the car. “If you’re about to suggest
that I get rid of the goatee, we are not going to make it to the movies in time,” he threatened.
Steve opened his mouth to come up with some witty reply and found that his brain had gone
entirely blank. “I like the goatee. I never said you had to get rid of it.”

“You implied it was a problem.” Mr. Stark ducked into the car.

“You’re a problem,” he laughed.

“Wow, what a way to talk to your boss-”

“It’s Saturday,” Steve said, clapping his hands for emphasis. “You’re not my boss for another 36
hours. Right now, you’re just-” Mr. Stark turned in his seat to look at him, all of his attention on
the blond- “Just my friend,” he said lamely.

“You treat all of your friends this badly?”

“Kind of-”

“Alright, I’ll take it.” Mr. Stark put a hand on the back of Steve’s seat, backing out of the garage.
“I picked a theater that was out of the way. Another nod to your privacy sensibilities.”

“I’m trying to think of you. What would people think if they saw us watching a movie together-?”

“So far, I’ve been hearing two types of rumors across the wire,” Mr. Stark said cheerfully. “One,
that you’re a saint. Pshaw- Two,” he held up a second finger. Steve indicated he should put his
hands back on the wheel. “We’re both quite the sinners.”

“And that doesn’t bother you?” Steve asked incredulously.

“Why would it?” Mr. Stark asked calmly.

“They think you’re fucking the man who’s taking care of your children!”

“At least I’m finally getting laid again,” he quipped. “It’s been tough being the pathetic widower
all these months.”

“Tony-”

“Does it bother you? The rumors-?”

“I don’t want anyone to think less of you, Tony,” he said quietly, forcing his hands to lie flat on his
thighs. They were shaking. He clenched and unclenched his fists, forcing himself to abandon his
panic. “I don’t care what they think of me,” he added.

“I care. Do you want me to address this? Pep could release some kind of statement.”

“No.”

Mr. Stark was quiet, making his way through the roads. They were going to be a half hour early at
least. Lots of time to fill. Steve was screwing this up. “I’m not homophobic,” he said.

“I didn’t think you were. Your two friends are gay.”

‘My friends? I’m half gay,’ he had time to think. He nodded instead. “That’s right.”

“Hey,” Mr. Stark said, pulling into the little parking lot behind the theater. He grabbed Steve’s
hand, pulling it over and pressing it to his stomach. “We got off on a weird train of thought. I like
you, Steve. And I’ve needed a friend. Thanks for coming tonight.”

Steve smiled, uncertain. He wanted to be so much more than Mr. Stark’s friend. “Thanks for
paying,” he joked lightly.

Mr. Stark scoffed at him. “I owe you so much more than I could ever pay. Get the popcorn and the
soda, Captain. Get whatever you want.”

Mr. Stark voiced something else as they stood in line at the concession booth. “That was your ex-
girlfriend, the other day?”

“Yeah- sorry, she shouldn’t have shown up like that. I never expected that- sorry-”

“Don’t apologize, you don’t control other people.” They took a couple of steps forward. Mr. Stark
grazed the candy shelves. “Was everything… okay?”

He rolled his shoulders. “The guy she left me for, left her.”

“Ouch.”

He could tell the mechanic had so many more questions, but he was being surprisingly diplomatic.
Steve took a deep breath in. “She wanted to know if she could stay at my mom’s.” Mr. Stark gave
him a look at that. “I know. It’s bold. She was saying she had nowhere else to go-”

“I haven’t dated in a very long time,” Mr. Stark said. “But I don’t think it works like that. Unless
the two of you reconcile-”

“We won’t,” he said firmly. “I’m… not interested in continuing. It wasn’t a good relationship.”

“Hm. You deserve something good, Steve. Next time around.”

Steve watched him as he paid for their concession items. Somewhere along the way, Mr. Stark had
figured out that Buncha crunch was his guilty pleasure; the mechanic chucked a big bag of it at
Steve, who caught it easily. “Natasha thinks so,” he agreed hesitantly.

“Well if you’re not going to listen to me, at least listen to her. Come on- I got our tickets for the
back of the theater.”

And Steve followed him up to a dark corner of the theater. There were four seats on this side of the
aisle and Mr. Stark had chosen the two seats in the middle. Presumably, someone would have to be
pretty pushy to join them. “You’re ridiculous,” he told the older man, dropping his coat and then
Mr. Stark’s onto the aisle seat. Their knees touched when he sat down. Neither of them moved
away.
 Chapter 26

They were sitting in the kitchen.

“Should we play a game?”

“Yeah!”

“Alright, babies, I’ve got it ready. Close your eyes- just a minute- hang on.” He got the cutting
board out of the fridge, hiding it behind a cereal box. “Okay, you can open your eyes again. Let me
explain the rules.”

They were kneeling on their chairs, looking at him surprisingly attentively. “I’ve cut up some fruit
and you’re going to close your eyes when I tell you to. I’ll put the fruit in your mouth and you have
to guess what it is. You can work together if you need to- sound good?”

“Uh huh.”

“Okay. Ready? Close those eyes-”

He pressed a blueberry to Morgan’s lips and she opened it, giggling a little. He did the same to
Peter. “Open your eyes.” They were chewing- “Blueberry!”

“So smart,” he said, wishing he was recording this. “Ready to try the next one? Close those eyes.”

He put the red fruit in Pete’s mouth first this time. They opened their eyes without his prompting.
Morgan looked at Peter. “You know this one,” she laughed.

Strawberries were Pete’s favorites. He was smiling. “Strawberry,” he said, his voice soft and
sweet.

Steve caressed his face. “Strawberry, baby,” he agreed. The door to the kitchen pushed open- Tony
was there. “Mr. Stark,” he said with a grin. “You joining us?”

“I heard a lot of giggling.” He looked at the kids with a mock grave expression. “What’s going on
in here?”

“We’re playing a game!”

“Oh, you’re playing a game.” He leaned against the table, looking at Steve. “Imagine my surprise
when I sat down at the dining room table like I do every morning, and nobody joined me.”

Steve laughed. “Sorry. Jarvis had to run to the store. He’s coming back now.”

“Nobody thought to tell me? I pay the bills.” But Steve figured that Tony was never as offended as
he pretended to be. He made a mock sympathetic face at the man and turned his attention back to
the kids.

“Ready for round three?” Steve asked. They nodded, closing their eyes immediately. “This one’s
harder- hang on-”

Tony sat beside him at the table, watching him put the fruit in their mouths. He touched Steve’s
shoulder; Steve had to work hard to focus on the game all of a sudden. He coughed lightly, feeling
strangely breathless. “Okay, what is it?” he asked.
They were chewing on the fruit. “Apple…?” Morgan asked. He shook his head. She looked over at
Peter. He whispered in her ear, still chewing on the fruit. “Pear,” he said.

“That’s right.” He looked at Mr. Stark. The mechanic was clearly putting the game together as he
watched, looking caught somewhere between amusement and interested. “Do you want to do the
next one?”

“Yes.” He leaned forward. “You guys are so smart,” he added. Steve took one look at the way they
were beaming and dug his phone out of his pocket. He snapped a photo of them quickly, wanting to
remember these moments. He rested his hand on Tony’s arm, feeling a series of small explosions in
his stomach.

When the butler came home ten minutes later, he retreated into his own personal space, giving the
mechanic a guilty smile.

“I can help,” he said, getting up. “You guys want to make pancakes?”

“I’m going to- I have some stuff in the lab I should work on while breakfast is cooking. Jarvis,
you’ll page me when it’s actually time to eat?” Mr. Stark was up and gone before Steve knew what
had hit them. He looked over at the two little kids. “Have you guys ever cooked before?”

“No,” they chorused.

“Sometimes we make cookies with Jarvis,” Pete added, reaching for the leftover fruit from their
game. He pushed a strawberry into Steve’s mouth.

Steve chewed hastily. “Pancakes aren’t hard. Let me get a bowl.” The butler was already taking out
the various tools they’d need. He handed Steve the bowl and the pancake mix.

“He was a lot like the children when he was their age,” Jarvis told Steve.

“Was he? You knew him back then?” Mr. Stark had mentioned something similar at several
different points, but Steve had not really thought about it.

“How old are you?” Morgan asked, looking quizzically at the butler.

“Quite old,” he said gravely. She laughed. “I was originally Tony’s father’s butler,” he added to
Steve, finding measuring spoons. “I came out of retirement when Tony got married.”

Steve did actually wonder how old the butler was, but he felt it would be rude for him to ask. He
made a mental note to help out more around the house.

“Mr. Stark was sweet when he was a kid?” he asked, showing Peter where to fill the measuring cup
to. The boy held the vegetable oil with slightly shaking hands. He helped hold it with his, letting
Pete do most of the work. Morgan dumped the oil into the bowl.

“Very cute, very inquisitive.”

“Daddy’s still cute,” Peter said loyally.

“Yes,” Steve said absently. They watched in mild fascination when he cracked the eggs against the
kitchen table, dropping them in. He started to whisk all the ingredients together to get them started.
“Alright, I’m thinking of a number between 1 and 5,” he added.

Pete got to mix first because Morgan guessed 7. “Honey, you know that’s not between 1 and 5,
you’re a great counter,” Steve said, leaning against the table.

“But it’s my favorite number,” she whispered to him.

He barely suppressed a laugh by leaning on his hand. “Stick to your guns, Mo,” he said finally.
“Never change.”

He stood them on a stool in front of the stove, holding onto them securely while they flipped
pancakes. He was vaguely afraid they’d get hurt but they were careful, having listened to his
admonishments apparently. Pressing Morgan back against him, he kissed her on the temple.
“You’re so good at this,” he whispered to her.

She grinned at him.

 Chapter 27

“I’m surprised you’d agree to another outing with my friends after they grilled you at Halloween.”

“I like your friends. They just want to make sure you’re not working for some jerk.”

“What’s a jerk?” Peter asked, piping up.

“It’s kind of a mean name for a mean person.”

“Why are you using mean names, Daddy?”

Mr. Stark caught Peter’s hand in his, pressing dozens of mini kisses to it. “When I use it to talk
about myself, it’s just a joke,” he explained. “Only adults can do that though. You’re never a jerk.”

“Peter’s nice,” Morgan said.

“That’s right.”

“My friends did like you, even if they interrogated you.”

“Your friends are very protective. I would expect nothing less. You deserve good friends. Oh,
we’re here-” Mr. Stark was looking out the window. He tapped on the divider. “Hey, Hap, wait at
the curb for us? We won’t be that long.”

“I have my show to listen to.”

“Bye, Happy!” the kids chorused. The grumpy driver waved a hand to indicate that he’d heard
them. Mr. Stark let them out of their carseats and approached the front door, holding onto their
hands. Steve could already see his mom waiting on the front steps. He uninstalled the two car
seats, taking them with him. They were going to need the room.

His mom and Mr. Stark were negotiating apparently. “Steve, he’s trying to pay me,” his mom
chided, needling him in the side. “Make him stop.”

“You have to barter with her,” he explained, putting the car seats in the hall closet. “Momma, Mr.
Stark’s not going to pay you.”

“Good.”

“What-? You’re terrible at bartering.” Now his boss looked offended.

Steve stepped obliquely on his toes. “We’ll bring you out to dinner sometime. An even exchange.”

“Somewhere where the kids can come,” she told his boss brightly. Already she was disappearing
into the den, the sounds of the kids filtering in.

“She loves the babies,” Steve explained, rather helplessly. “Even if you fire me, you might have to
bring them by to see her.”

“I thought we established that I had no plans to fire you, Captain?”

Steve didn’t know what to say to that. Standing in the living room of his childhood home, he felt
absurdly like a teenager again. “You want to see where they’re sleeping? It’s my old bedroom.”
Mr. Stark’s eyes lit up. If nothing else, the man was nosy. “Has she kept it the same?” he asked,
following Steve up the tight little staircase.

“Unfortunately, yes. Ma’s my backup plan and she knows it.”

His old bedroom was there at the top of the stairs, a bedroom with light blue walls and gingham
curtains. There was a full size bed squeezed in the corner by the window, as well as the mixed
memorabilia of his teenage years.

“You were kind of a nerd,” Mr. Stark said, pivoting on his feet. “And we have much more similar
taste in music than I thought we did.”

“My dad liked 70s music. So do I.”

“A vintage ‘Hang in there’ cat poster. I need this, Captain-”

“I’ll have Ma wrap it up for you,” he scoffed. He put the bag with the kid’s pajamas and stuffies on
the bed. “We don’t have much time and Happy’s waiting on the curb. Probably attracting a crowd
in the limo,” he complained.

“We’re picking up your friends, we needed the room-”

“You only agreed to these plans because you were able to do them up as flashy as you could.”

“I am what I am.”

“Let’s go say goodbye to the kids.”

Mr. Stark took one more longing look at his bedroom closet. Steve shook his head at the man,
pulling his hand to jerk him towards the stairs. He marveled at how Mr. Stark didn’t let go as soon
as he could have, only stopping when the narrowness of the stairs prevented them from going side
by side.

“Your mom is very agile considering her age.”

“She’s in her late 60s.”

“We might have to make a different arrangement for her someday, if she starts finding the stairs
tricky-”

Steve was luckily prevented from replying to that by their reemergence into the den. The fact that
Mr. Stark cared about his mom and her future made his stomach feel practically fluttery. He was
almost afraid of what he was feeling right then.

They’d taken out a game he recognized from his childhood, Hi Ho Cherry-O or something like
that- the box was turned over. “Momma, we have to head out.”

“Oh, okay, have fun, honey-” She caught him up in a bone crushing hug. “Bye, Tony, dear.” And
even though Steve had explicitly warned her not to, she hugged Steve’s boss too. “You two have
fun,” she said, planting a kiss on Mr. Stark’s temple, now completely going off script.

“I’ll take care of him,” Mr. Stark promised, sounding a little dazed. He gestured his toddlers over
to him, talking low in their ears.

“Don’t give me that,” she said, swatting Steve when he cornered her at the door. “He’s clearly
starved for affection.”
“I like your mom,” Mr. Stark said on the way to the car. He’d absently been touching the place
she’d kissed him. And maybe she was right. Steve thought about how much he’d missed being
touched on a regular basis before he’d started this job. So Steve kept his apologies to himself.

They picked up Natasha first, her being closest to where his mom lived. She surprised him by
choosing to sit next to Mr. Stark. He cocked his head at her, but she refused to acknowledge it.

Sam and Bucky ran up the sidewalk to the limo when they parked down the block from their
brownstone. “It’s starting to rain. Hey, man-” Bucky ruffled Steve’s hair, making him swear. The
brunette just rolled his eyes, scooting around him. “Are you sure we can’t pay you back for the
tickets?” he asked Mr. Stark.

“My plans, my right to pay,” the man said idly. “Do you go to see Broadway shows often?”

“No, because we’re cheap,” Natasha said bluntly. “One of us is usually semi-broke.”

“Usually it’s me,” Steve mumbled.

“I’m surprised that you all like theater,” Mr. Stark admitted, one of his legs bouncing in time to a
silent beat. “You’re all so different.”

“Queers love musical theater,” Natasha told him.

“But only some of you-?”

“None of us are straight,” Bucky told Mr. Stark. “If you start hanging out with us more though,
you could be our token straight,” Sam added, finally squeezing onto the Steve’s other side.

“Guys-” Steve tried to break in.

“Sorry to disappoint you,” Mr. Stark said dryly. “But I actually couldn’t be your token straight
either.” He tapped Natasha on the knee with his foot. “You’re not straight either?”

“I’m ace,” she said bluntly. “And I hate driving backwards- switch with me, Steve.”

“Alright-” Steve was glaring at the three of them. With Natasha in his spot, and him in hers, he had
somehow managed to be sitting next to his apparently not straight boss. His stomach had done
some weird kind of explosion that he’d never recover from. His friends were ecstatic- They grinned
at Steve from their place as the collective audience. He’d been tricked.

“So you’re bi as well,” Nastasha said, as if nothing had happened. “Just like Steve.”

Tony clapped Steve on the knee. “I guess I should know better than anyone not to be so
heteronormative,” he said cheerfully. “No, everyone thinks that I’m straight because I’ve been
married for the past ten years. Was married,” he amended. He was looking speculatively at Steve,
but lucky for Steve, he didn’t voice whatever he was thinking. “So we’re a bunch of queers going
to cry at Rent.”

“The musical where they don’t say AIDs for three hours,” Steve agreed, keeping his face devoid
of emotion.

“Remembering my experience with the 80s, that tracks,” Mr. Stark agreed. He played absently
with Steve’s fingers, looking out the window. Across from them, three sets of eyebrows were going
absolutely berserk. Steve made a motion with his free hand- cut it out-
“Does your mom mind watching the kids, this last minute?” Mr. Stark asked unexpectedly, looking
at Steve. He pretended to be smoothing his hair out.

“Are you kidding? No, it’s going to be like a hostage negotiation getting them back tomorrow.”

“So you guys will have the mansion to yourselves,” Sam observed brightly.

Mr. Stark stopped Steve from lunging forward with a casual hand slung around his shoulders. “If I
get lonely, I know I can find the Captain. Right, buttercup?”

“Why does everyone hate me?” he moaned.

“Nobody hates you,” Mr. Stark said soothingly. “Also, pretty sure I’m going to weep openly at
Angel’s funeral scene. So someone’s going to have to hold my hand during that.”

“Steve,” three voices chorused.

“If that’s a hardship, I can clock you in,” Mr. Stark joked, giving his shoulder a squeeze.

“Oh my god,” he moaned. “The bar better be open when we get there.”
 Chapter 28

“Happy, you’re amazing,” he said, making a decision and ducking his head into the front seat.

The driver shook his head at Steve, his expression unchanged. “You’re getting soaked,” he pointed
out.

It was pouring out. Steve didn’t care. “Worth it! I appreciated you driving us everywhere tonight-
and waiting at the theater-”

“Captain, you’re going to make him blush. Happy, sleep in tomorrow.” The driver cut an
unimpressed glance over at the mechanic. “You don’t need a ride back over to Brooklyn?” he
asked.

“We’ll take the Audi. Night, Hap!”

Happy Hogan had been right. They were getting soaked, standing in the rain like this. Steve
reflected that they could have talked to the driver through the partition instead of out on the
sidewalk- that had been his fuck up- They dashed through the rain and up the front steps, ducking
into the little foyer.

Mr. Stark tsked, looking Steve over as he fit the key into the lock. “You’re going to catch a cold,
Captain, and then where will we be? I’d get out of those wet clothes as soon as you’re through the
door, if I was you.”

“What about you? You were just sick a week ago,” Steve said, refusing to blush and/or
acknowledge half the things Mr. Stark had just said to him.

“I only get sick once per season.”

“That seems like a very stupid thing for a scientist to say,” Steve argued, peeling his coat off and
hanging it up. He tugged the coat off Mr. Stark. “Anyway- I loved the show tonight. They did
amazing.”

“I bet Maureen’s understudy never thought she’d go on,” Mr. Stark said thoughtfully. “Hope the
other girl is okay. Are you going to bed now?”

Steve bit his tongue. “I’m not really tired, just yet.”

The mechanic brightened like he’d said magic words. He looked faintly hopeful. “Change into dry
clothes and I’ll make us hot chocolate?”

“Hot chocolate?”

“I don’t drink at all and you seem to cut yourself off at two beers, which you had tonight. One
before the show and one at intermission.”

“Oh. Yeah, I don’t drink much any more. Hot chocolate would be nice. I just didn’t expect it from
you.” He followed the brunette up the front stairs. “Why don’t you drink?” he asked, thoughts
swirling in his head. “I mean- don’t answer that-”

“I developed quite the drinking problem after my parents died,” Mr. Stark said, loosening his tie.
He began to unbutton his shirt, leaning on the doorframe of his bedroom. “Only way to control it
was to stop. I haven’t drank since I got married. Tempting, last year… But I had the kids. I’ve
never slipped that much. You?”

“I was drunk when I got hurt. Two beers doesn’t do much to me. Loosens me up a little. Still feel
pretty clear headed. That’s important for me.”

Mr. Stark twitched a smile. “Well, that’s one good thing about getting older,” he said cheerfully.
“You learn your limits. I’m not calling you old, by the way,” he added, unzipping his pants and
pulling the button down shirt out fully. “Alright. Come down to the kitchen. I’ll be there soon.”

Steve waved a hand, continuing on to the back stairwell where he could access his bedroom from.
He walked, didn’t run, and he was very proud of this, considering the sight of Mr. Stark practically
undressing in front of him had set off a very strong, noticeable reaction in his body. He inhaled,
taking the stairs two at a time.

He stripped out the soaked clothes like a man on a mission, kicking the door shut behind him
belatedly. Despite his friends’ teasing, he did like being in the mansion alone with Mr. Stark. Fuck-

When he got down to the kitchen fifteen minutes later, he was happy, a little tired, and less
distracted. Mr. Stark was at the stove, stirring milk in a saucepan. “Oh shit, you’re making it the
real way.”

“I know you’ve been giving my kids that cheap powdered crap, but I have still have my standards,”
Mr. Stark said, continuously stirring the milk. “Jarvis left us some cheesecake in the fridge.”

“Jarvis adores you,” Steve said, finding it. Oreo cheesecake. “If I eat this, I’ll wear it, counting
those two beers from before and the hot chocolate now-”

“Have you looked at yourself lately? Where exactly are you wearing this fat you speak of?” Mr.
Stark demanded.

“Sorry. Military mindset. Nat’s not going to want brunch tomorrow. I’ll just take a longer run.”

“You do know I’m like ten years older than you, don’t you?” Mr. Stark teased. “You don’t see me
working that hard.”

“Six,” Steve corrected absently. “You’re six years older than me.”

Mr. Stark put a mug in front of him. “Six, huh?” he repeated thoughtfully. He came back with his
own mug a moment later, sliding into the chair beside him. “Thanks for holding my hand tonight,”
he said quietly. “The scene’s already sad and then thinking about funerals, I just…” He shrugged.

“I’ll always hold your hand if you need it,” he said, trying to sound airy and failing. He looked up.
“Tony?”

Mr. Stark had been eyeing him. “I didn’t know you were bisexual,” he said abruptly. “I really did
think you were straight.”

“I don’t exactly advertise it,” Steve said with a laugh.

“Why not? You should.”

He popped a forkful of cheesecake in his mouth, giving himself some time to think before he
responded. Mr. Stark couldn’t be interested in him. He’d just make a fool of himself. He tried a
different tactic. “You want a revolving door of men- and women, for that matter- coming through
this place?”

“No, I’d hate that,” Mr. Stark said, his mouth twitching into a smile. “But you deserve some fun.”

“I think I outgrew that kind of fun,” he snorted. “Next time around, I want it to last forever.”

“Forever doesn’t always last as long as you think it will, Captain.” There was that hurt
bewilderment that sometimes flashed in the mechanic’s eyes. “Sometimes it lasts just a little
while.”

Steve shifted, leaning against the back of his chair. “If you knew how it ended, would you do it all
over again?” he asked.

“Absolutely.”

That hurt his heart in all kinds of ways. “She was beautiful. Pete got her curly hair.”

Mr. Stark swallowed. “She was very beautiful, yes, but what I liked best about her was her laugh.
She was always laughing. You remind me of her in some ways. In other ways, you’re very
different. I think she would have liked you. In fact, I know she would have loved you. You take
such very good care of our babies. If I was the type that believed in fate and heaven and angels, I’d
say maybe she sent you to us.”

“But you don’t believe in that kind of stuff,” Steve said, trying to lighten the mood a little.

“No, so I’m willing to accept that you dropping off those supplies all those months ago was just a
happy little accident. What we do after that is well within our control though. It’s on me to take
good care of you. Are you happy here?”

“Yes.” Steve swirled his hot chocolate meditatively. Mr. Stark’s words had a way of punching into
him. “I’m happier than I’ve been in a while.”

Mr. Stark hummed. “Good.”

Steve thought about how Mr. Stark had held his hand through the entire second act. He thought of
how the mechanic had admitted he got lonely, sleeping in his bed alone at night. He felt a touch of
fear, a thrill of excitement, something he hadn’t felt in a long time. “Can I suggest something that
completely violates our professional relationship?”

This only intrigued the mechanic. He’d known it would. “It’s Saturday, Captain. We’re just friends
right now.”

He exhaled. “My friends don’t know how we maintain this fragile arrangement,” Steve told him.
“They think we’re insane, Tony.”

“Don’t backtrack now- I want to know what your suggestion is.”

“Ah, well.” Steve could feel his ears flame red. The alcohol was still in his system, making him a
little buzzed. Brave and a bit stupid, all in one, that’s what his mom had told him the first time he’d
come home drunk. He took another sip of the hot chocolate. “You don’t like sleeping alone. I- I get
tired of sleeping alone. If we behave ourselves, maybe we could have that sleepover you keep
teasing me about?”

“Huh.”
“You can say no,” he said, stuffing his mouth with cheesecake. “In fact,” he began, talking around
a mouthful of cream cheese, “let’s just-”

“I accept your offer, Captain. I’ll keep my hands to myself if you do-” Tony’s voice was grave, like
they were making a solemn promise.

Steve had honestly not expected him to accept. His mouth was dry as a dessert. What had he just
done? Still- “Finish up, then-” he said, waving his fork at the mechanic. “I’m tired.”

“Aye, aye, captain. Oh, don’t look at me that way- I’ve been holding that joke in for months. Since
we first met.”

“Should have held it in for longer.” Steve swiped Mr. Stark’s last bite of cheesecake. He ignored
the man’s affronted gasp, grabbing their plates up and dumping them in the sink. “Come on, get-”

“You’re bossy like this.”

“I am what I am,” he said, repeating back Mr. Stark’s usual quip.

 Chapter 29

It was eight in the morning, Steve was awake, Mr. Stark was not, and they were holding hands.

Steve didn’t know what to do about that last part.

Sober and well rested, he had to admit this had been one of his more impulsive decisions; he
couldn’t say that he regretted it- on the contrary, he kind of wished this could become more of a
permanent fixture in his life- but he didn’t know how Mr. Stark was going to take it, when he woke
up.

Mr. Stark was… very warm. He’d wedged himself in Steve’s side, one leg thrown over Steve’s.
Steve had given that leg a lot of thought. It wasn’t aggressive, nor was it necessarily possessive. If
Steve had to guess, he’d say it was an unconscious urge on the mechanic’s part to reassure himself
that Steve was still there.

Last night had been strange.

Having strode up the stairs first, he hung back at the actual door to the man’s bedroom. Steve
could feel the doubts creeping in. He’d thought Mr. Stark would chide him, poke fun a little, but
the man had just opened the door for them, stepping through. “Need to use the bathroom?” he’d
asked.

“No.” He huffed a little. “No, I’m okay, Tony.”

“Right, right, you’re not a toddler. Dad questions- sorry-” The man shrugged, slipping his
sweatshirt off. Steve was relieved to see he had a shirt on underneath it and, for that matter, that the
man was making no other moves to get undressed.

“Which side should I get in on?” he’d asked, trying to guess.

Mr. Stark had chewed his lip speculatively. “Sleep on my side- the right.”

“Are you going to sleep on your side too?”

“Smart ass.” The mechanic flicked him as he went by. “No, I’ll stay on the other side of the bed. I
can be a good boy- you take the lead, Captain.”

He’d felt a flash of desire flow through him at that, and then, just as quickly an overwhelming
sense of trepidation. He was being stupid. “I’m afraid to ruin our relationship,” he’d said softly.
“And… even though I’m,” he gestured at himself trying to convey so much with so little, “could
we just- could we not-”

Mr. Stark had sized him up. “We’re not going to do anything tonight,” he said softly. “You like to
cuddle with Natasha, right? This could be like that. I mean, different cause I’m a lot bulkier than
she is, but-” He shrugged. “You’re welcome to leave at any point if you want to. Or- wake me up.
I’ll go kip on the couch. It’s comfy.”

“I’m not going to kick you out of your own bed.” Steve crawled up onto the right side of the
mattress, sitting cross legged.

“So you dated Sharon for the last two years,” Mr. Stark surmised, peeling off his socks. “When
was-?”
“When was the last time I dated a man?” Steve guessed.

“You don’t have to answer that.”

“Three years ago. Our relationship ended abruptly.”

Mr. Stark slid into the bed on the other side, reaching out to turn out the bedside light. Steve did
the same on his side. They’d lain there in the darkness for maybe five minutes without talking,
each keeping well to their own side of the bed. “I haven’t dated anyone besides my wife since I
was 29.”

“Are you ever lonely?”

A pause. “Sometimes. Not too often. I’ve got the babies.”

“The babies do help.”

“What about you?”

He’d rubbed his arm. “Lonely might not be the right word for it. Afraid, maybe? Like, afraid that I
missed my chance or waited too long at the fair, so to speak- Sometimes I think, what if there’s no
one out there that loves me?”

“You have so many people who love you,” Mr. Stark had whispered. He turned on his side, facing
Steve in the dim lighting. He reached out a hand, taking Steve’s and holding it outside of the
blankets. “So many. My children, first and foremost, your friends… your mom. And me,” he
added. “Goodnight, Captain.”

“Night, Tony.”

And now Tony was waking up. Somewhere in the night, they’d shifted much, much closer to each
other. Steve found that he couldn’t look away. It was the first glimmer of brown, the way he closed
his eyes again, his features soft with sleep. The complete lack of awareness and self-consciousness.
Steve would ruin this man. “Hey,” he whispered.

The nose flared, crow’s feet dug into the corners of Tony’s eyes. His lip curled upward. “Captain,
my captain,” he whispered.

He bit his tongue. “I’m nobody’s captain,” Steve said regretfully, brushing his thumb over Tony’s
knuckles. “How’d you sleep?”

Tony shifted on his pillow, his eyes taking on that calculating, speculative look they normally had.
He seemed to examine Steve in the dim morning light. “I was right,” he mumbled.

“You were right-?”

Lax fingers found his face, traced his jawline. Maybe Mr. Stark wasn’t as awake as Steve thought
he was. There was no way they’d be that openly affectionate with each other normally. “I sleep
better with someone else beside me,” the man said sleepily.

“You’re falling back asleep,” Steve observed.

“Mmm. Exactly. You going on your run?”

“I should.” He didn’t want to. They might never have this again.
Mr. Stark was smiling. “Remember the cheesecake, Cap.”

“How dare you-”

The mechanic tangled his fingers around Steve’s wrist. Steve could feel the callouses there. Maybe
Mr. Stark wasn’t quite ready for him to go either. He hardly dared to believe it. “When are we
picking up the kids?”

“I don’t know… I’ll call my mom.”

“Call her now. See if she wants to go out to breakfast.”

He fumbled around for his phone; he’d left it on the headboard. “Go to breakfast where?” he
mumbled. The mechanic shrugged, holding onto his arm now. He found his mother’s number,
rolling on his back. The bed was very comfortable. He wondered if he could guilt Mr. Stark into
getting him a set of these sheets. He heard the call connect after a few rings. “Momma,” he said.
“Did I wake you?”

He listened to her voice in his ear. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to fall back asleep himself.
She was already regaling him about the kids. He closed his eyes. “Ma, I went to bed late. Want to
make this more of a brunch situation?”

They ran through their options. He wouldn’t ask Mr. Stark his opinion-couldn’t without alerting
his mom. “Let’s go to the Red Arrow. Ma, I love you. I need some more sleep. Bye-”

“When?”

“Half past ten.”

“Ohhh,” Mr. Stark groaned in delight. “Yeah…”

“I don’t want to run.” Mr. Stark made a high noise of approval. “Do you want me to go back to my
own bed?”

“That would be ridiculous. You’re comfortable here. We’ve got another hour of sleep at least.”

That was all he needed to hear. Consequences be damned, he was happy in this moment and Mr.
Stark didn’t seem to be judging him- He pulled the brunette into a loose hold, burying his nose in
the mechanic’s fluffy hair. He sighed, tracing shapes across the brunette’s broad back. “This was a
good weekend,” he murmured.

“Weekend’s not over yet.”

 Chapter 30

“You slept in his bed?”

“Louder, Nat, I don’t think they heard you- in Jersey-”

“What do you mean, you guys shared a bed after the show?” she asked, not troubling to keep her
voice down even one iota. The woman sitting across from them on the subway watched them
without a shade of remorse.

“We didn’t do anything,” Steve said, who was comparatively getting quieter by the minute. “He
held my hand. That’s all. I woke up and he was holding my hand.”

She leaned against him. “You trust Tony,” she surmised. “You really do.”

“He feels really safe.” He glanced up at her.

“You love him,” she said next.

He made a high noise. “I have a crush on him.”

“Oh, well, isn’t it convenient then that you’re lusting after the man you love that you also happen
to live with-”

He gave up. Laughing, he fell into her lap; somehow this seemed to offend the old lady sitting
across from him more than anything she’d clearly eavesdropped from them.

Natasha held his head steady with one hand and rubbed his side with the other. Nevermind that
they were on the subway apparently. He sighed happily. “You guys love to interfere,” he said.

“We love seeing you happy again. This is old Steve we’ve been seeing. This is the Steve that
taught me how to rollerblade.”

He sat up reluctantly. “Do we really want that guy back? You got like, massively hurt
rollerblading. Remember the scrape up your shin? I still see it sometimes when you wear dresses.”

“Yeah, I really ate shit that day,” she agreed. “I loved that Steve. I love this Steve. Here’s our stop,
come on-”

Half an hour later, she’d convinced him to buy them ice cream cones- even though it was
November- and they were wandering outside the shops, licking them. She didn’t try to talk to him
about anything and he loved her for it.

His mind, never quiet, skittered on the daily between his loved ones, the babies, what happened,
his army memories, thoughts about his dad- especially now when he was approaching how old his
dad had been when he’d died, what he should do about the situation with his boss, and paintings he
wanted to work on. “You make my mind quiet,” he said abruptly.

“Is that a good thing?” she asked.

“Very good,” he said, bumping her gently. “It’s too loud in here,” he said, tapping his head. “But
with you…”

She let him trail off without completing the thought. She pointed at a little shop where there were
paintings in the window. “Have you been painting? You could do better than that-”

“Shh, shh, we’re always getting caught when we’re mean about art- No, I haven’t.”

“Why not? You love to paint.”

He paused. His bedroom was small and very comfortable but there was no real room for all the
supplies that he usually used and the chances of the babies getting into it by accident was a very
real risk. “You know how I paint. When I was in my apartment, it didn’t matter if everything was
covered in a drop cloth for a week.”

“Hmm. Let’s go in here- come on-” And she pulled him into a cooking store instead, explaining
how she’d just read a graphic art book about cooking dumplings and how she wanted to try
making some of her own. “But we’re white people, Steve, it probably won’t be any good,” she
said, ringing up the various supplies nevertheless.

He insisted on carrying her purchases home for her, assuring her that he would try her dumplings
no matter what they looked like. “And you were good with the Thai food, I think you’ll be fine
with this,” he added.

She pecked him on the lips, disappearing into her townhouse. He shut the door before the cats
could escape.

He opted to walk home, liking the quiet wash of the city. Above him, the streetlights were popping
on, bathing the sidewalks below in bright pools of light.

Steve felt like he was approaching a point where he had to stop hovering on the fence. He didn’t
just have a crush on his boss- he was falling more deeply in love with the man every day and the
barriers in the way, the ones that had made all of this seem impossible, they weren’t doing their job
anymore. He had the feeling that if this failed, it would be on him, that he’d done the things that
had prevented it from growing.

What did he want? That’s what everyone kept asking him. He knew what he wanted. He wanted to
be loved. He wanted someone to touch him like he was precious. He never wanted to be separated
from the babies. He didn’t want to feel so fragile anymore.

Steve bit his lip, pausing on a corner. He was twenty minutes away from the Stark household now.
Strange that it had been so close to where he’d been, all along.

He should do the adult thing and tell Tony how he felt. See how Mr. Stark felt in return, maybe
confirm that he wasn’t crazy, that there was something there, and yet-

If he told Mr. Stark how he felt, then he’d have to tell Mr. Stark what was wrong with him-

Without thinking, he stepped out into the crosswalk.

There was a squealing of rubber on pavement and he was knocked down. A horn beeped, but there
was a door opening. “Jesus, fuck- are you alright-”

“Sorry,” he gasped, picking himself up off the ground. He’d been hit, nudged really- just enough
that he’d been knocked to the pavement. It was more adrenaline than anything he was feeling right
now. “Was in a rush, wasn’t thinking-” He darted forward, rushing across the street, and waving
guiltily at the driver who’d gotten out to check on him.

That had been stupid. He broke into a run, glad to recognize the residential section he was in now.
Maybe now wasn’t a good time to talk about things. If this was the way he was going to act, just
thinking about the possibilities. He- No. Mr. Stark didn’t love him. Mr. Stark missed his wife and
why shouldn’t he? She sounded amazing. Steve felt another stab of jealousy when he thought of
how Mr. Stark’s eyes looked when he talked about her; he pushed this down. It wasn’t right of him
to feel this way- jealous of a woman who’d died a painfully early death.

His adrenaline was wearing off now and with its increasing absence, he felt his earlier fall making
itself known on his body. He felt stiff, his cheek smarted. He probably looked like a mess. He
resisted the urge to pull his phone out, to use the camera to fix himself up. There was no point.

He sighed in relief when he turned onto his block. Walking back at night had been stupid. He’d
never done it if the kids were there with him.

Mr. Stark was sitting on the front steps.

He drew up short, surprised. “Oh,” he said dumbly.

The mechanic had obviously seen him. His voice called out into the darkness. “Captain. I was
beginning to get worried.”

“Were you waiting for me?” He forced his legs to walk the rest of the way down the block and
stood at the bottom of the steps.

“Yes, cause Natasha texted me like an hour ago to say she was returning you to me and the subway
doesn’t take this long- at least I think it doesn’t, I’ve never take it-” There was a pause. “What
happened to you?” Mr. Stark said loudly, suddenly scrambling to his feet.

“Oh, it probably looks worse than it is,” he said vaguely, wondering what he looked like. “I took a
fall. Little way back. It’s nothing.”

“You fell? You?”

“Mm, I might have stepped out into traffic, like a dumbass.”

“You were hit?” Mr. Stark’s voice had risen to something that Steve had never heard before.
“Come on, get inside. You got hit by a car?”

“I was lightly tapped, it’s nothing,” Steve said, allowing himself to be pulled up the steps. He
looked in the decorative mirror in the entranceway. “Oh. Looks bad.”

“You think?” Mr. Stark sounded a touch hysterical. He disappeared and came back with a first aid
kit. “Are you hurt? Do we need to take you to a hospital?”

“No, I’m fine,” Steve said indignantly. “I literally just fell down. I’d been thinking about… and
then suddenly there was a car there. Where are the kids?”

“I put them to bed.”

“Ah.”

Mr. Stark gripped his chin, cleaning out what was pretty bad road rash on the side of Steve’s face.
“What could you possibly have been thinking about?” he mumbled.

Steve smiled apologetically. “Remember I said I got hurt? In the army? I was thinking about that. I
just… lost my place for a moment. It never happens! I-”
“Relax, I’m not going to fire you,” Mr. Stark said, fixing a bandage over the cut. He began to
examine Steve’s arms- Steve had been wearing his leather jacket. “I’m just not letting you take
public transportation anymore.”

“Technically-”

“If you’d taken the car in the first place, you would have had no ability to walk back home in the
second,” Mr. Stark argued.

Steve was just relieved that Tony had let him out of talking about the incident. He nodded along,
letting Tony mother him a little. When he got up to his room that night, he looked in the mirror in
his bathroom, touching the bandage gingerly. His friends couldn’t know about this. He’d have to
come up with a better cover story.

He couldn’t keep getting hurt. They were going to get sick of patching him back together one of
these days.
 Chapter 31

“I can’t believe he called you.”

“I can’t believe you were going to try to hide this from me.”

He sighed. “I wasn’t,” he argued. “I just don’t like to make you guys worry.”

Natasha frowned at him, tapping his lips pensively to make him stop talking. She inspected his
cheek, her fingers light on his face. “We’re always going to worry about you. We love you like we
love nobody else.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled. He looked up at her, feeling some mirth rising up in him despite everything.
“Mr. Stark’s going to think that we are dating at this point.”

“Tony understands what being asexual is,” she chided him.

“You’re literally taking your pants off right now-”

“Cause you’re going to help me. I have shorts- don’t worry- it just would have been cold wearing
shorts over here. Even though I took the subway. Like a normal person. Here- read the box.
Refamiliarize yourself with the process.” She bonked the box off his head, jumping neatly into a
pair of gym shorts while he rubbed at the place the box had hit. He picked it up, turning it over.

“Oh, no, not this-”

“Tony actually called me, Steve. You scared the crap out of him.”

“I just got knocked down a little,” he said absently, reading the box. “I was distracted.”

“Distracted by…?”

He bit his lip. She laid down on the bed, peeling apart the first strip. This, she pressed to her leg,
pushing down firmly. He sighed. “I was thinking that things seem to be changing, between me and
him. And if things were to change… maybe that I should tell him about the thing.”

“Oh.” She surveyed him. “You know that we all want you to do that. When you’re ready.” He
nodded. “I think the fact that you’re thinking about it is a very good sign.”

“I might talk myself out of it though, you never know-”

She hummed. “In the meantime, help me-” She pointed at her leg.

“Is this my punishment?” he whined.

“Steve, be a man.”

“‘Be a man’ means hurting you? I don’t know that I want to be a man in that kind of world-”

“Be a man in this case means ‘rip the strip’, Steve, and also that the anticipation is killing me, so
would you please-”

“I’m more of an otter than a bear, I’d say, if you were looking for some lumberjack-esque pinnacle
of masculinity who was willing to harm you-”
“Steve, it doesn’t even hurt. I just need you to do it for me. I can’t do it for myself.”

“I actually think that you can-”

There was a knock on the door. “Come in,” she called, grinning at Steve. She laid down,
cushioning her head on her arms.

“Sorry,” Steve said, blushing furiously when his boss very tentatively pushed open the door. “Were
we being that loud? I didn’t think-”

“No, no, the door was slightly open and I was just coming up to…” Mr. Stark trailed off, taking in
the visual tableau in front of him. Them frozen on the bed. Natasha’s legs thrown over Steve’s. Her
pants discarded on the floor. “I could come back-”

“We’re not doing anything,” Steve said quickly, his heart beating fast. “Natasha’s making me wax
her legs.”

“He’s doing a bad job of it.”

“Because I don’t like to hurt you,” he hissed.

“There’s not a ton of pain in waxing if you do it right,” she said loftily. “Tony, you have the look of
a man who’s waxed his body at least once. Tell Steve.”

“You know, I actually have,” Mr. Stark said to Steve, a roguish grin breaking across his face. “But
my wife used to make me help her with this and I can understand the trepidation.”

Natasha nudged Steve with her toes. She held up her leg. “Rip the strip, Captain.” Sighing, he
grabbed it and yanked it off as quickly as he could. “See how good he is at this?” she asked Tony.

“But I hate it,” Steve mumbled, pressing another wax strip onto her leg.

“What were you coming up here for? Want me to leave?” Natasha asked Tony. “I was just telling
him off, like we discussed.” She thumped the bed to the side of them.

“I would never make you leave, especially mid wax,” he murmured to her. He looked over at
Steve, pointing at where she’d indicated he should sit. Steve nodded. Mr. Stark sat down with
good grace. “Actually, it’s good that you’re here,” he told her.

“Why’s that?”

“I wanted to capture our captain for Thanksgiving next week, and I thought he might be more
compliant if I got his friends in the mix,” the mechanic said, speaking to Natasha but with his eyes
on Steve.

Steve looked up, startled. “Wouldn’t I be in the way?”

Twin sets of exasperation leveled on him. “I actually thought,” Mr. Stark said diplomatically,
ignoring that last remark. “That you’d probably have your own tradition for the holiday. And I
wouldn’t want to interfere if you’ve got plans,” his brow was furrowed, like he was actually
worried, “it’s just that the kids like having you around and we have the space.”

“Right the kids,” Natasha broke in. “They’d be devastated.”

Mr. Stark ignored her. “All of this seemed less presumptuous when I was in my lab.”
“You want… me and my friends to come have Thanksgiving here,” Steve surmised slowly, not
sure if he was getting this right.

“And your mom. Especially your mom.”

“My mom’s your favorite, isn’t she?” he asked shrewdly, ripping off another wax strip when
Natasha tried to say something else.

“No, Captain, you’re still my favorite,” Mr. Stark said, his voice teasing. “But your mom gives me
hugs and kisses and you don’t generally do that.”

“Do you want Steve kissing you more?” Natasha quipped at him. She muffled a groan when Steve
pulled two more strips in quick succession. “Look who got over his trepidation.”

“I don’t know, he’s been out there practicing- kissing, that is- and I’ve been wilting here in my
belltower,” Mr. Stark said, now smiling broadly. “There could be a mismatch of skills. For now I’d
be happy to share some pie with the good captain.”

“My mom’s going to want to bring dessert.”

“I’d expect no less.”

“I don’t know what plans Bucky and Sam have-”

“Oh, they’ll rearrange for this,” Natasha said knowingly.

“Are you sure that it won’t be an imposition?”

Mr. Stark was giving him that look, so familiar now. A little worried. A little loving. “You could
never impose on me, Captain. Having you in my life has been a joy.”

He felt like his breath had been knocked out of him. He bent over his task, using the ‘finishing
wipes’ to get the leftover wax off Natasha’s leg. They were quiet, waiting him out. He knew his
eyes were a little wet when he looked up. “I’d like to spend the holiday with you.”

“Good.” Mr. Stark smiled in that way that made crow’s feet appear at the corners of his eyes. He
nudged Natasha. “So Bucky and Sam are up in the air. What about you?”

“I’ll never say no to a free meal,” she told him. “I go where Steve goes.”

“Steve says you’re like his little sister,” Mr. Stark told her, remembering some conversation they’d
had over a month ago. “Is that true?”

“Steve straddles the line between being the protective older brother and the goofy enabling friend.”

“Hard line to keep. Good thing our captain is good at straddling-”

“I’m going to make you wax the other leg,” he protested, breaking into their conversation. “Don’t
test me, Tony-”

“Should I try to make a pie?” Mr. Stark mused, laying down beside Natasha so that his feet were
up on Steve’s pillow. “It’s basically just science, cooking that is-”

“Sounds dangerous coming from you.”

“I think with some proper, adult supervision, I’d be fine-”

“Meaning Steve?” she asked, laughing.

“I bet you make a mean apple pie,” he told the blond. “Big, all American hunk like you. Don’t they
teach that in the ‘Boys Next Door’ school? They wouldn’t let me attend- said they didn’t let
brunettes in, if you can believe it-”

Steve collapsed on his side, laughing helplessly. “Are you flirting? Is this how you flirt?”

“I don’t know, it’s been a while since I’ve flirted. Does this sound like flirting?” He looked over at
Natasha. She nodded gravely at him. He looked at Steve. “Is it working?”

Steve’s mouth had curved into a happy smile. He was trying to cover it. “No,” he said. “No, it’s
not.”

“I’ll have to try harder,” Tony told Natasha.

 Chapter 32
Chapter Notes

Mind the archive warnings.

Life continued on in its funny pattern. Steve brought the kids to school, taking the car in the
morning as it got cooler, walking them in the afternoon if the sun came out. He read books, tidied
up toys, bandaged Morgan’s cut knee when she fell at her karate meet- Mr. Stark had joined them
for the kids’ meet- and sketched when he had the chance.

They were nearing Christmas, just a month away, and he didn’t know what to get anyone. He
hadn’t thought this through the way he should have and the worst thing was, he did this year after
year. But this year, he had some additional people to account for.

And… he had other stuff he wanted to do. This was harder. The night he’d waxed Natasha’s legs,
he’d sat down, called his mom to let her know about the holiday, and then stood in front of his
mirror, trying to practice saying what he needed to say. It had been spotty to say the least.

He didn’t have a lot of faith in himself anymore.

It was two nights later that Steve finally got his nerve up.

Having put the babies away, folded their laundry, gathered the toys left scattered in the living
room, he’d found that there was really nothing left to do but push his way into the workshop,
leaving the laundry basket full of pajamas and blocks by the door.

Mr. Stark waved at him, giving him an absentminded salute and a full hearted grin. “I thought
you’d never come visit me again after last time,” he called over his shoulder.

“You nearly singed my eyebrows off.”

“Seems like an exaggeration. If anything, I saved you a lot of money going to a salon.”

“Tony… Can we talk?”

Mr. Stark reacted to this with considerably more anxiety than Steve had anticipated. He looked up,
putting the tool down that he’d been soldering with almost immediately. “Is something wrong? Did
I do something-?”

“No,” he said quickly. “You’ve been telling me I can talk to you? And my friends have said I
should talk to you. I was just thinking… I’d like to do that now, if you don’t mind. But if you’re
busy…”

“I’m never too busy for you,” the mechanic said, his brow furrowed. “Want to talk here-? Or
somewhere else?”

“I was thinking, maybe the library? I don’t want the kids to hear this, if they come down. And it
might be comfier-?”
Mr. Stark closed all of his holographic screens in a flick of his arm. “The library it is then,
Captain.”

Steve swallowed hard, giving him half a smile. “Thank you,” he said softly. He followed the
mechanic out of the lab and down the hall to the library. He closed the door softly behind them.

Mr. Stark had sat on the couch by the window, one leg thrown over the other knee, his hands
steepled together. Steve could feel his nerve beginning to fail him. He trailed across the room,
glancing into the unlit fire. He brushed his hand against the short hairs on his neck. “There’s really
no reason that tonight’s any different than any other,” he said awkwardly. “I don’t mean to make a
big deal of this.”

“Doesn’t have to be a big moment if you don’t want it to be,” Mr. Stark said softly. “But I’d like to
hear what you’ve got to say.”

“Can I say it quick, before I lose my nerve?” His friend nodded at him, a line forming between his
eyebrows. Steve crossed the room, sinking down onto the couch next to Mr. Stark. He rubbed his
ear. “You’re really nice to me and I never know why.”

“I have a lot of reasons.” But Mr. Stark didn’t push it.

His lips twisted. “Remember I said I got hurt in the marines?”

Mr. Stark nodded, leaning forward. His eyes were dark. They were fixed on Steve. Steve pushed
through it. “I wasn’t shot. There wasn’t any IED like what happened to Bucky-” He inhaled. That
was another thing he didn’t like to think about. “It’s not the worst thing to ever happen to a person.
But I think about it a lot. And it kind of… fucks with my head.”

“You don’t have to minimize what happened to you,” the mechanic said softly. “It obviously
affects you. So it’s important.”

Steve swallowed hard. Now or never. “I was assaulted, my final deployment. Uh,” he winced,
“raped. One of the men serving under me in my unit. He thought I wouldn’t report it. Military code
of honor and all that. You know I’m bisexual. Not ashamed of it, but I always kept it on the
downlow when I was in service. People can be… people can be bigoted. I had punished him. He
was angry at me.”

His mouth had gone dry. Mr. Stark was staring at him, his eyes wide. Whatever he’d thought Steve
was going to say, it hadn’t been this, apparently. “This guy, he found out about me being the way I
was. The way I am. He wanted to humiliate me. He-” He felt himself falter- he’d said too much, he
shouldn’t have told anyone- “I should go,” he said quickly.

“No,” Mr. Stark said, looking slightly panicked. “No, don’t go anywhere, please.”

Steve sat back down, feeling dizzy. “Tony?” he asked, his voice small. “Don’t think differently of
me. I’d hate that.” Water was rising in his eyes; he dropped his head down to hide his face.

Hesitant hands touched his shoulders, like Mr. Stark wasn’t sure he should touch Steve. And that
was silly. They’d shared a bed. Held hands at a musical. Gone to the movies together.

He inhaled, leaning forward to rest his forehead on the mechanic’s shoulder. Mr. Stark’s arms
immediately tightened around his shoulders, one hand coming up to pet the back of Steve’s head.
“That’s what you meant when you said you’d gotten hurt.”

He nodded, feeling very, very tired. “Not shot,” he agreed. “Some days I wish I’d just gotten shot
though. People understand that.” A little hysterical laugh burbled up inside of him but when it
passed through his lips, it sounded more like a sob. “Sorry- this is too much. I don’t know why I’m
talking about this.”

“No.”

He should get up, he knew, try to salvage some of his dignity but god, he did feel tired, felt an
underlying exhaustion that used to keep him in bed for days at times. He’d thought he’d moved
past this, but had he? Apparently not.

Mr. Stark edged closer, essentially holding him to his chest and he felt, absurdly, like a teenager
again. The touch was so familiar, like his dad had held him, that time all those years ago when
he’d gotten into his first car accident.

He straightened up with an effort. He was 36. More than double how old he’d been the last time his
father had held him. And- “It’s been three years,” he said with a little shrug. A forced voice of
calm. “I’m- I’m actually a lot better. Been trying to move past it. The others…” He trailed off.

“Three years isn’t that long ago, Steve.”

“It feels like I should have moved past it by now,” he said urgently. “All of my friends treat me
with kid gloves, still- and it wasn’t- wasn’t-”

Mr. Stark was watching him with those dark eyes. He combed his fingers through Steve’s hair,
something Steve knew he’d seen the man do with Pete and Morgan before, when they were upset.
Hesitant hands framed his face, tilting it up to look at him. “Please don’t diminish what happened
to you, Steve. You’re the strongest man I know. And you got hurt.”

Steve was chewing his tongue. He still didn’t remember everything from that day. “I don’t know
how he got me down on the ground,” he said vaguely. “I know he hit me.” Mr. Stark inhaled
sharply. He looked up, feeling unfocused. “We’d gone ashore and I’d had more to drink than I
should have, but you’d think I’d have been able to-”

Mr. Stark looked anguished. His voice was surprisingly tight when he spoke. “Nobody has the
right to hurt you. No matter how much you had to drink.”

“No, I know,” he said distantly. “I just think sometimes… if I’d had less to drink… I could have
stopped it. You know?”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

He blinked. “Yeah,” he whispered. He cleared his throat. “Yeah. Listen-”

“If you’re going to try to apologize again, I’m going to be upset with you, Captain.”

He laughed, surprised. “I was,” he admitted.

“Cut that shit out.” Mr. Stark sat down next to him, taking his hand and holding it between both of
his own. Steve’s hands were larger, but he could feel the dexterity and strength in the mechanic’s
hands. Strange… He’d forgotten that was one of the things he loved about being with men.

“The guy hit me over the head. Everything just felt really… dizzy.” He didn’t know why he was
explaining himself. “Bucky found me. Stopped it.”

“Good.” Mr. Stark was strangely pale, his usual olive complexion almost waxy.
He could tell the other man had a lot more that he wanted to say and that he was suppressing it. He
covered their clasped hands with his left hand, tracing Mr. Stark’s skin with his thumb. “It’s okay
for you to ask more about it. I know this is a lot.”

The mechanic’s jaw flexed. “I think we both might have reached our limit for tonight though.”

“Some other day then.”

“Did you get counseling? After it happened-?”

He nodded vaguely. “VA provides counseling of sorts. Then after I was deemed fit, I was put into
some groups. That’s how I met Sam, actually.” He felt like he should explain more, on Sam’s
behalf. “We became friends after the group was over. Sam, for all of his,” he gestured vaguely,
trying to encompass Sam’s humor, his pranks, “he’s very professional in his groups.”

“I’ve never doubted that.”

Steve looked at him warily, knowing that he had to say this one last piece, if he was going to be
able to sleep tonight. “I haven’t- I haven’t been like that. With a man. Not since-”

“Okay.”

“I had a boyfriend. At the time- He… he didn’t like all the attention that was on us. Gay’s
supposed to be okay in the army, these days, but…” He rolled his shoulders. “It’s not always really
okay, to be honest. There’s still a lot of queer bashing. I said I understood…”

“He broke up with you? Because you’d been raped?”

Steve felt miserable. “He said it was too much. The attention. And me. I- I felt,” he gestured
towards himself, “undesirable. Like something was wrong with my body.”

Mr. Stark was quiet at that, and Steve was grateful. So many people scoffed at that, when he said
it. People were usually pretty quick to remark away his fears. He knew what he looked like. There
was something deeper, a hurt that went under the skin, that made his surface level seem so much
less important.

Mr. Stark shifted then, turning on the couch so they were almost facing each other. His hands
shifted, holding onto Steve’s hands. Grounding him, whether he knew it or not. There was a pause.
Then he raised each hand, one by one, and pressed kisses to the backs of them. “Sorry, Steve.”

He swallowed. “I really like you,” he admitted. “I do. I like everything about you.”

“For what it’s worth… I like you too.”

They studied each other. Steve surprised himself; he continued the conversation. “Sometimes it
seems like,” he gestured at the space in between them, “there’s something between us? It scares
me,” he admitted. “I’ve been kind of a coward these past couple of years. But it’s also… exciting?
I don’t know if I’m just making it up. But I thought- thought you should know, kind of, what’s
going on with me-”

“There’s a lot to unpack there, Captain.”

“I know.”

“You’re not making up anything. You’re very intuitive. Smart. And braver than anyone I know.”
Mr. Stark slipped closer. He pressed a kiss to Steve’s cheek, a lingering, loving touch. “You’re not
wrong at all.”
 Chapter 33

“Is it okay that it’s just me, helping you tonight?”

She paused in the middle of divvying up their dinner. “What do you mean ‘just you’? You’re my
baby.”

“Mom, I’m 36.”

“You’re never going to outgrow being my baby,” she told him, tapping his hand hard with one of
the spoons she’d been ladling Krapow out with. He licked the brown sauce off the back of his
hand, smiling faintly at her.

“I just know that you love being with the kids and I know you’d probably like to teach them how
to bake pies, that seems like something you’d do with them-”

“The babies are beautiful and I’d like to see them about 300% more than you currently allow-” He
scoffed at her. “But no one, not even them, compares with my own child. And you said you wanted
to talk. Going to tell me off again?” Her eyes sparkled with mirth.

“It turns out that Mr. Stark actually really likes the hugs and kisses,” he told her, because he knew
it would make her happy. “You were right. You’re always right. How do you always know these
things?”

“That wasn’t so hard. When your father died, I missed his hugs the most.” She tugged his sleeve.
“Come on, sit-”

“I’ll hug you more, Ma.”

“Oh, you’re fine. What was it you wanted to talk about?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Remember my discharge?”

“Of course I do. Are you okay?”

He indicated that she should eat. She waved him off, giving him a faintly disgusted look that he
would even suggest it. He sighed, shaking his head at her with a smile. “Momma, I’m fine. I’m
actually feeling better these days.”

“Good.” She twirled pad thai onto her fork. “Have you been thinking about it lately?”

“I think about it from time to time. Not like when it first happened. You… you know that I like Mr.
Stark.”

“You have that big embarrassing crush on him.”

“Mom, please- be serious-”

“I’m only teasing you. I think he’s a hunk. I always hoped you’d end up with an attractive
brunette.”

“You’re the worst,” he said, laughing at her. He inhaled too much air too soon after eating the
spicy Krapow and began to hiccup. “Don’t try to help me, this is your fault,” he told her, swatting
away her hand and grabbing his glass of water. “I haven’t dated any men since it happened.”
“I know.”

“Did you like Sharon? Be honest-”

“No.”

“Why did you let me date her for two years then?” he asked, surprised. His mom had always been
courteous to her, inviting even.

“It’s your life! What do I know? I thought she gave you back some stability, something you were
looking for-”

“It always felt like it was love adjacent. Not quite love but not quite not love either. You know?”

“You deserve the real thing,” she advised him.

“Like what you and Dad had.”

She was gazing at him from across the table. “Love’s not easy, Stevie. I know you remember how
your dad and I would cut it up sometimes and you probably heard us making up, the walls aren’t
that thick-” He shuddered, gesturing her to move swiftly onward. She laughed at him, throwing a
bean sprout at him. “Love takes a lot of work. On both sides. Tony gets that. So do you. I don’t
think Sharon understands that yet. Neither did that other guy.”

“I’m glad Dad never knew… about me.”

She put down her glass looking pained. “About you being gay? Or what that man did to you?”

“Both, I guess.” He speared another pepper, pushed it around the plate in a semicircle, and popped
it in his mouth. “Not because I think he’d be ashamed. I just think…” He trailed off, shrugging.

“Steve, I’m pretty sure your dad knew you were gay.”

He looked up at her. “Did you ever talk about it, before, I mean? Before I told you.”

“Your father wasn’t like us, you remember he could be pretty close mouthed. I know that he loved
you more than anything.” He swallowed hard at that. “I’m sorry we didn’t talk about it sooner.”

“And you knew.”

She laughed then, her face relaxing into that happy smile of hers. “Oh, Steve, I always knew. I
should have tried talking to you about it. I always figured you’d come to us when you were ready.”

“It’s not that I didn’t trust you-”

“What was it, Steve?”

He sucked in a deep breath. “We lost Dad,” he said, the emotion jumping in his voice. “I loved
Dad. But I love you more. You were always the one who got me. I was afraid,” he fumbled his
words, “afraid of losing you too.”

She shifted over, dragging her plate so that she was sitting next to him. “No, you could never lose
me.”

“Do you ever wish you had more kids?”

“No. Ran the risk of getting some truly awful one. We had you. You were more than enough.”

He got up to take their dishes to the kitchen sink and then, returning to her, he hugged her from
behind, pressing his forehead to her shoulder. He felt her hand reaching up to touch his hair and he
clasped this with his own, wishing he could say all the things that were inside of him- how he still
felt guilty sometimes for how he’d felt when Dad had died (relieved), or the shame that came over
him when he thought of that night, getting hit by that piece of piping, falling down- and he wanted
to express how much he loved her.

“I told him about it,” he said instead. “Tony.”

She turned in her seat, looking up at him. “Your assault,” she said.

He stood with his head bowed. “Yes.”

She got to her feet. “That must have been hard.” She wrapped her arms around his chest;
somewhere along the way he’d gotten taller than her, nearly a foot taller. He nodded, not trusting
himself to speak. “How’d he react?”

“He was…” Steve searched for the right words. “Quiet. He held me. Um, kissed my hands.” He
shook his head. It was stupid to tell her these things. Just- he knew what love felt like from women.
It was the way his mom always had one more story to tell him on the phone. How Natasha let him
be the little spoon. Men were trickier. He wanted her advice. “My friends think that he loves me.
You’ve spent some time with him. Think he’ll put up with me?” He tried to smile, but he thought
the effect might have been ruined because she didn’t look amused.

“Let’s work on the pies,” she said instead of answering.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Steve,” she said, bringing over the basket of apples. “You’re always the same to me, no matter
who else loves you or what happens in your life. I hated seeing you hurt because you’re my heart.
But it didn’t change how I felt about you, not one bit.”

He thought he knew what she was saying. He leaned back, letting her hold him up. “Think I’m
moving too fast with Tony?” he asked quietly. “I’ve only known him since August.”

She shook her head. “Sometimes you have to run before you walk.”
 Chapter 34

“Your families aren’t mad at you, are they? Are they mad at me?” he asked, opening the back door
and letting his two male friends in.

“Can’t you say hello like a normal person?” Bucky hugged him, slinging an arm around his neck
and pushing his way bodily into the room.

“My sister’s stuck with her husband’s side of the family,” Sam said, following Bucky in and
pulling the door shut behind him.

“We’re in the way, come on-” He pulled them through the kitchen and dining room and into the
little greenhouse attached to the back of the house. The kids were there, running around after each
other, using Natasha as a shield. “What about you?”

“Between my sisters and their families, my mom was glad to shed some extra guests. We’re doing
Thanksgiving, part two, over the weekend. The laid back version.”

“I miss your sisters,” Steve said, snagging Morgan as she darted past. She shrieked when he lifted
her. “Hi, big girl. Going to eat lots of turkey today?”

“Put me down,” she giggled.

He set her on her feet. She ran off again, yelling to Natasha to watch her. He could see her trying to
do a somersault and he had to look away. Something small impacted the other side of him- Peter.
“Pick me up,” the five year old said, reaching for him.

“Mm, my cuddlebug.” He tucked Pete under his chin, closing his eyes. “Are you warm enough?”

“Am now.”

“This one’s your favorite, isn’t he?” Steve opened his eyes, grinning guiltily at Bucky. Sam had
drifted over to where Natasha was holding court with Morgan and Mr. Stark. Pete had twisted to
look at his face too. “Am I?” he asked.

Steve snuck a glance across the room. “Maybe,” he confided, brushing his nose against Pete’s ear.
“Can’t tell the others. It would make them sad.”

“I won’t tell,” Peter promised. He crossed his heart sloppily. Steve was never going to get past the
little boy’s soulful eyes.

“He’s beautiful,” Steve told Bucky. “Isn’t he?”

“You’re very sweet, Pete,” Bucky agreed. “Steve loves to talk about you.”

Pete lit up. Slinging an arm around Steve’s neck, he hung on tight, nearly choking the captain.
Steve hoped Pete would never lose his cuddliness. “Daddy’s coming.”

He turned on his heel, looking to see that Mr. Stark was in fact coming over. Steve smiled
tentatively at the man. He was a little afraid of what the man must be thinking of him these days,
but Mr. Stark had been nothing but warm. “Hey,” he said, reaching out a hand for Bucky. They
shook. “Do you have the goods?”

“I left it in the car, but yes.”

“Bucky, what…”

“It’s nothing bad,” Bucky promised. “You’re going to like it. Promise.”

“Do you guys all talk to each other? Without me?”

“Only a little,” Mr. Stark said. He held out his hand. “Can I touch you? I want to hug you.”

Steve felt tingly inside. He flicked a look at Bucky who was grinning at him. “Always. You don’t
have to ask.”

Mr. Stark shrugged at that one. Steve had thought the man was going to be gentle with him after
what he’d told him last week, but the mechanic instead pulled him into one of his regular very solid
hugs, squishing Peter in between them. “I’m glad you’re here, Captain. Want me to take this one?”

They divided up in the run up to the meal. Steve took over the TV in the living room, watching the
football game with Bucky, Sam, and surprisingly, Morgan. Steve tried to teach her the basics of the
sport in between exciting moments, but he had the feeling she just liked the chaotic energy from
the room.

His mom found him as the game ended and they switched over to the parade. “Do you need help?”
he asked, leaning back to look at her.

“No, everything’s in the oven. Did your team win?”

“No, they lost,” Morgan said, crawling over Steve and kicking him in the face.

“Aw, well. Do you want to help me set the table?”

They crammed themselves around the dining room table. Steve felt pleasantly warm, surrounded
by all of his loved ones; he couldn’t help but feel like they’d done this for him. He ate too much,
laughed a lot, and ended up dozing in the living room afterwards.

Natasha woke him up some time later. “When did I fall asleep? When did Pete join me?” he
mumbled, squinting up at her.

“You’re getting old,” she teased him.

“Petey never turns down a chance to sleep with someone,” Mr. Stark added, leaning over the back
of the chair to look at him. “I took a picture of the two of you at the height of the narcolepsy- hang
on-”

Pulling out his phone, he leaned down, handing it to Steve and looking over his shoulder. “Oh my
god,” Steve murmured. “We look dead.” There he was, sprawled on the armchair, mouth open,
legs askew, and there was Pete, sacked out on his chest. “We look like something tragic
happened.”

“We’re going to get you the help you need, buddy,” Mr. Stark promised, patting his shoulders.
“Got something to show you. Hang on.”

“You want pie?” Natasha asked.

“Mm, apple?”

“So predictable,” she teased.

“I’m not predictable,” he mumbled, sinking back down into the seat and hugging Peter to him.

The next time he woke up, someone had draped a blanket over him, and Peter was gone. His nose
twitched, smelling baked apples nearby. People were talking around him. He caught snatches of
the conversation- “He’s waking up.” And- “Don’t know why I rushed to put this together,
honestly-”

“Steve, are you awake?” That was Bucky.

He sighed, sitting up very slowly and rolling his head to get the kinks out. “Why didn’t you guys
wake me?” He blinked, the lights in the room very bright compared to his blissful sleep. There was
Bucky, sprawled in the chair next to him. Natasha had wedged herself beside Mr. Stark on the
couch. “Where’s the kids? Where’s Momma?”

“She and Sam are exercising the last of their energy out. I’ll get them. Eat your pie.” Bucky patted
Steve on the shoulder.

“Did I sleep through my surprise?”

Mr. Stark scoffed. “No, we waited for you. Silly Steve, thinking we’d carry on without him.”

“Mm.” He put a bite of pie in his mouth without thinking. “Hey,” he said, grinning stupidly.
“Pie…”

“Is this what he’s like when he wakes up?”

“Well, you should know that-”

“He was awake by the time I woke up-”

The others were coming back. Mr. Stark raised a remote, turning on the television. Peter and
Morgan raced each other into the room, tripping over each other to find spaces. “Morgan,” Mr.
Stark called. “I want you with me, baby.”

“That means you’re mine,” he told Peter. He could feel his mother come up behind him; she
carded her fingers through his hair. “Do you know what he did?”

“Yes, you’ll like this.”

Mr. Stark, it transpired, had digitized quite a bit of old movies from VHS. There was Steve, maybe
Peter’s age, and running after Bucky. There he was, playing with the Barnes sisters. “That’s me,”
Peter said excitedly, the next frame. He was just a baby there, held up by Mr. Stark who was
beaming and crying a little. Steve didn’t know where they’d gotten this footage- he’d never seen
Sam or Natasha when they’d been little. Peter tugged on Steve’s arm. “Is that your daddy?” he
asked.

“Yeah,” he said, feeling very emotional. “That’s my dad.”

“Look, there’s me,” Morgan said, finding herself at last. “And-”

“That’s your mommy,” Mr. Stark said. “She really loved you.”

Morgan had edged forward in his lap, watching the screen almost hungrily. Mrs. Stark was holding
her, dancing and laughing. It can’t have been too long ago. Morgan looked maybe a year younger,
Steve thought.
“I remember that,” Morgan said in surprise. She leaned back onto his chest, looking up at her
father. “Mommy smelled like flowers.”

Mr. Stark was smiling, his eyes wet. “That’s right. She did.”
 Chapter 35

“I have a whole list for you tonight.”

“Great, I have some items on my end too. You start.”

“Do the kids know how to swim?”

“What?”

He looked up from where he was sketching on the margins of his list. He beamed; he loved
startling Mr. Stark. “Do the babies know how to swim?” he repeated. “Cause we’re heading into
winter and they won’t be able to go to the playground soon. I was trying to think of other ways
they could get exercise.”

Mr. Stark considered the question. “We put Pete in swim lessons but that was two years ago. I’d be
really nervous just throwing him back in the water. He’d have to retake them. And Mo- no. She
was too little.”

“Well, here’s another question. Could I put them in swim lessons? We talked about ways they
could socialize outside of school,” he added.

“Hm. Could be a good skill for them to have. Have you asked them about it?”

“I don’t bring things up without talking to you first,” he said absently.

Mr. Stark rubbed the back of his neck. “I’d like to go to some of their lessons. I got to do it with
Pete. I’d hate to miss Morgan’s first lessons.” He tapped his pencil. “Friday, make some room.”

“I don’t want to put more pressure on you,” he said hastily.

“Told you- I’m cutting back. It’ll be great!” Mr. Stark was smiling at him. “Don’t you worry about
that stuff.”

“Your partner seemed pretty aggravated the other day.”

“Yeah, Obie’s having a hard time readjusting. Not sure why. When the babies were literally
babies, I took the whole year off.”

“But since then you’ve been thrown back in-?”

“He was making a lot of changes I didn’t like,” Mr. Stark murmured, signing his way through a
stack of papers. Steve wondered what they could do to get his partner off his back. He wondered
why Mr. Stark kept him on- perhaps he couldn’t get rid of him. “I was thinking of making Pepper
CEO,” Mr. Stark said next, surprising him.

“Could you do that?”

“I can do whatever I want. It’s my company. I still would have controlling interest. She’s better at
the things that I hate anyways.”

“And what would you do?”

Mr. Stark flashed a grin. “Mostly R&D. Push my liberal agenda that Obie hates so much. Ogle you
in my newfound freetime. Only if you want to be ogled.”

“Tony, you’re impossible.”

“Actually, I’m improbable.” He pointed at Steve. “We’ve been seriously slacking on your
professional development, sir.”

“My professional development? I’m a nanny,” he said incredulously.

“So what? You still have goals. Dreams. Aspirations. Dare I say- fantasies?”

“You may not say fantasies. Stop winking. It makes you look like some snake oil salesman carnie
nightmare-” Steve was laughing against his will. “What were you thinking? There’s stuff you want
me to do better?”

“No, Captain, there’s stuff you want to do. I want to know what those things are. Since you’ve
passed the four month vibe check, I figure it’s worth it to put you in some classes if you’d like,
connect to counseling, whatever it is that you think will help you. You let me know.” Mr. Stark
busied himself at these words.

“Classes? Like what…”

“Off the top of my head,” Mr. Stark squinted at Steve, “there’s art classes at the Met. There’s an
astronomy class at the science museum. Both of us could probably benefit from some cooking
classes, to be honest, although we don’t have to take them together- unless that’s something you’d
like- And I think you deserve to have someone to talk to. Not cause I think you’re crazy,” he
amended. “Just cause your life is different now. And I want you to be okay.”

Steve felt a familiar wave of anxiety rising in him, but surprisingly, he was able to recognize it for
what it was. Mr. Stark wasn’t suggesting he see a therapist because he thought Steve was doing
something wrong. “You really care about me, Tony?”

There was that fond look again. “Oh, Captain, I adore you.”

All the hairs on Steve’s arm rose at that. He ducked his head. “I’ll think about it, Tony.”

“That’s all I ask.”

Steve had been completely thrown off by Mr. Stark’s unexpected affection. He pulled out his list.
“The babies are getting bigger,” he said regretfully. “I think they’re going to need some new
clothes.”

Mr. Stark hummed. He pulled out his wallet, absentmindedly taking out a credit card and handing
it over. “Need help with that?”

“I recruited my mom.”

“Hard sell, I’m sure.”

“She was very excited.” He crossed that off, storing the credit card in his wallet. “I’ll bring it back.
Their play is coming up.” The kids were doing a production of the Nutcracker in preschool. They’d
spent the past week talking about it at dinner.

“December 16.”

“That’s right.”
“No need to sound so shocked,” Mr. Stark said, pretending to look stern. “I can remember things.
Some things. Not many.”

“You remember the important stuff,” Steve said loyally. “That’s all my kid related items.”

“Well, we’re blasting through the agenda. What else? Do you want your mom to stay here around
Christmas? Does she get lonely in her house? Or were you planning to spend the holiday
somewhere else-?”

He flapped his hands. “Hold up, stop asking questions. Could I stay here for Christmas?”

“Of course.”

“And you want my mom…?”

“I don’t want her to be lonely and if you normally stay with her at the holidays…”

He needed Mr. Stark to understand the full consequences of what he was suggesting. “Tony, if we
let my mom into this house, we might never get rid of her again.”

“Steve, that’s your mom we’re talking about. Show a little respect.” Tony was grinning. “I had her
over at Thanksgiving and she left us most of the silver-” Steve kicked him. Tony laughed. “If need
be, we’d hire a moving company to carry her back to her house after the New Year-”

He spluttered, throwing down his pencil. “You like my mom,” he accused. “You’d probably keep
her year round.”

“If she promises to kiss me on the forehead every day at least once then I think we can work
something out-”

“I’m going to hug you. You can’t stop me.” Getting to his feet, he swung around the table,
wrapping his arms around Tony’s shoulders. He buried his forehead in the older man’s shoulder,
holding him as tightly as he dared.

The other man turned in his hold, reaching up to cup his face. “I’d never want to stop you.” He
traced Steve’s jawbone. “But I was serious about your mom. I need Mrs. Rogers there on
Christmas day. She’s important.”

“I’ll work on her,” he promised.

 Chapter 36

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

Mr. Stark glanced around the room. Most of the other parents were grouped around the
refreshment table. The kids were still gathered up by the teachers. “Do I do anything that bothers
you?”

Steve was startled. “No,” he said immediately. “Why?”

Mr. Stark waved away the instant reply. “I’ve been thinking about what you told me. The other
night? That was brave of you.”

“It’s really not-”

“I’d like to be brave too. You put yourself out there. So should I.”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Mr. Stark.”

“Tony,” the mechanic corrected. “I like it best when you call me Tony. And there’s no one here,
Captain. Would you call me that instead?” Steve swallowed. He nodded just slightly. ‘Until the
kids are done,’ he mouthed at the other man. “Good. Now, about what I was saying- I flirt with
you.”

“I know you’re just kidding,” Steve said automatically. The kids were running through their
dances again. Morgan waved at them. He waved back.

Mr. Stark raised a hand as well. “I’m not kidding,” he said.

Steve had thought the school auditorium had been rather stuffy before; all of a sudden, it was way
too cold. He shivered. “You’re not?” he asked, his eyes on the stage.

“No. Well- sometimes. I like to joke. But I wouldn’t do it if I wasn’t attracted to you. That’s what I
wanted to say. And I wanted you at Thanksgiving because I’d have missed you. The kids would
have too, of course. You know that. But I wanted you there. I always want you to come home.” Mr.
Stark said all of this rather rapidly. Steve wondered how he’d managed to say a dozen sentences in
one breath.

He looked at the mechanic for the first time since Mr. Stark had started talking. “You’re attracted
to me?” he asked, feeling dizzy. He’d suspected; he’d also denied himself. He’d rewritten all their
previous conversations into a narrative that made more sense. This jarred that loose. “Me?”

Mr. Stark took a sip of his tea. “You have no right to sound so confused, Captain. I promised
myself I’d stop doing this, but look in the mirror, for fuck’s sake.”

“Language,” Steve admonished. “The kids-”

“The kids are like two hundred feet away.” Mr. Stark nudged him. “This is all my way of saying
that if I’m making you uncomfortable, I want you to tell me and I’ll stop. I’ve been selfish.”

“You are not selfish,” Steve said strongly. “You really are attracted to me? You’re not joking with
me?”
“I love your ridiculously blue eyes and your laugh and the way I’m pretty sure you could lift me
over your head if you wanted,” Mr. Stark said gravely. “But I can pretend not to.”

“I like the flirting,” Steve blurted out. “I don’t want it to stop.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He licked his lip. “I like it more knowing that you’re-”

“Insatiably attracted to you,” Mr. Stark supplied for him when it became apparent that Steve would
not be able to say it.

“Yeah, that-” Some kind of explosion was taking place in his gut. He must have heard this wrong.
Right? “There are things wrong with me,” he said, because if they were going to be honest, he
should get this over with from the beginning.

“You keep saying that and I keep telling you I disagree.”

“Ah, but I don’t want you to,” he stumbled over the words, “I don’t want- me- to mess up. I’m
afraid- afraid of-”

“Daddy! Steve!” The kids were running towards them. He waved, biting his tongue.

“This isn’t something you can mess up, Steve. Hey-” The kids were almost upon them. “I thought
we’d have more time to talk. Let’s- let’s talk some more after?”

He felt excited and anxious all at once. “Yeah. Yeah, lets-”

“Steve, pick me up?” Morgan was tugging on his shirt.

He scooped up the kids in both arms, rocking them. “Look who I found,” he said, kissing them.

“You made it,” Pete said, holding his arms out to the mechanic. “I made it,” Mr. Stark agreed
enthusiastically. He took Peter from Steve, curling him in his arms. “I like the behind the scenes
look at this masterpiece-” They were laughing. “But I would never have thought someone would
call you a rat-”

“It’s just a part,” Peter laughed. “I get to fight-”

“My friend’s a snowflake with me,” Morgan told Steve.

“One of these days, I want to meet this friend of yours,” he told her. “Daddy has fun dinner plans.
Let’s get you in some warmer clothes.”,

They ducked into one of the bathroom stalls, large enough to accommodate the baby changing
station, but more importantly, them. “I can’t believe they finally started putting these in men’s
rooms after when I needed them,” Mr. Stark mumbled, poking the station.

“Isn’t that always the way,” Steve said absently, helping Morgan step out of her leotard and tights.
“Find her jeans, they’re in the bag.”

“Where are we going to dinner?” Peter asked, trailing his dress pants on the bathroom floor.

“A diner. Here’s her pants- oh, no, those are Pete’s, take them Pete-” He found a second pair of
jeans and handed these over to Steve.
“What’s a diner?” Morgan asked.

“Little restaurants where you can get hot food fast. We went to the Red Arrow with my mom. That
was a diner.”

“Are we going there again?”

“No, I found a different restaurant,” Mr. Stark said. “Out of the way. Less people.”

“Have we been there before?” she asked her dad.

“No. New experience. New things can be exciting-” He glanced up at Steve. Steve nodded his
head. “They can,” he agreed. “How about her shirt, Tony? We going to send her out like this?”

“Nobody’s going out in public ‘nips out’ in this family-”

“Stop,” he laughed, taking a swat at the other man. He seized the bag. “Here’s Pete’s shirt. Here’s
his sweater- I should have packed this bag better, Mo- all your stuff’s at the bottom-”

“It’s okay. I’m dancing,” she said, twirling in the two by two square space she had to herself in the
crowded stall.

“Who knew dressing two toddlers could be so much like Tetris,” Mr. Stark commented. “Okay, I
think everyone’s decent again-” He hipped Peter.

Steve stuffed all the clothing back in his backpack, picked Morgan up, set her on his shoulders and
took off after the male Starks. He felt such a mix of emotions- elation and joy, fear and anxiety.
Mr. Stark took his hand at the door, leading him to the car and ignoring everyone else.
 Chapter 37

“You get a fake tree?” Steve couldn’t keep the outrage out of his voice, despite his best efforts.
“Why?”

Mr. Stark was looking at him with ill disguised amusement. “Technically, I already have a fake
tree. I pull it out each December. Or rather, Jarvis and Happy do. I take it you disapprove.”

“Vehemently.”

Mr. Stark dipped his head. “I should have guessed,” he said, sounding rather fond. “What do you
do, Captain? Boy Scouts’ corner lot? Dare I say- a tree farm?”

Steve just shook his head at him. Truthfully, he wasn’t in a good place to criticize. The past two
Christmases, he hadn’t bothered to get a Christmas tree. His mom got one. Nat had one. Bucky was
happy to unroll the tree Steve had sketched for them in college. It hadn’t seemed important that he
had anything in his own little apartment with the too small kitchen and the bathroom with poor
water pressure. That hadn’t ever really been home.

There was the sound of tiny feet running through the dining room. “Here they come,” Mr. Stark
said, a smile beginning to dig itself out of the corner of his mouth. “Our babies.”

“When I told them to quickly finish up, I didn’t mean this,” Steve said.

“Daddy, we’re switching-”

“We’re trading,” Peter added. He slid around the table, scrambling into the seat Morgan usually
took. “I’m Morgan now,” he told Steve. “Are you really, baby?” he asked, laughing.

“Does this mean I get to sit next to my little miss?”

“Uh huh. Cause I don’t know what this side of the room looks like.”

“Huh. It’s good to look at things from a new perspective from time to time,” Mr. Stark agreed,
getting to his feet and lifting her into the chair. He pushed the seat in. “Speaking of which, since
we have Steve in our midst for this Christmas season, I thought we might try something new.
Steve would like a real Christmas tree. I thought we could all go together.”

Two heads swiveled towards Steve in twin movement. “A real tree?” Peter asked.

Steve glanced up at Mr. Stark, just as surprised. “We were talking about it. Growing up, I always
got a real tree. My dad and I would cut it down together.”

“Do you miss your daddy?” Morgan asked.

Steve smiled at her. “Yes, very much. My dad was kind. He made me feel safe. I wanted to be just
like him.”

“You are kind and safe,” Pete said absently, beginning to shove a biscuit in his mouth. He ate like
he had two stomachs. Steve wondered what their roly poly boy was going to be like as a teenager.
The five year old didn’t seem aware that he’d poked Steve’s heart.

“You don’t have a daddy either,” Morgan told her father.

“No, that’s right. My dad and mom died when I was a teenager,” he agreed.

Steve glanced up at him, stricken. “They both did?” he asked softly. Losing his dad had been hard
enough. He couldn’t imagine losing both. The mechanic dipped his head, his eyes thoughtful. “My
mom loved Christmas trees,” he said. “Find us a place, Captain. Maybe we can go this Friday.”

Steve didn’t bother to say that he’d already been looking at places. It seemed presumptuous. He’d
found a place that rented Christmas trees, their root system bundled up- the trees got replanted each
year for seven years and then they were left alone. He thought Mr. Stark’s eco-friendly tendencies
would like the idea.

That was how they found themselves in upstate New York on Friday evening, the kids bundled to
the gills in snowsuits and hats, holding each other’s hand. It turned out that Mr. Stark had liked the
rented Christmas tree idea and now here they were at the closest farm that practiced the
arrangement.

“Did you teach them that?” Mr. Stark asked, one finger indicating the two of them hanging on to
each other. “Some kind of safety measure?”

“I make them hold my hand when we walk to school, but otherwise no,” he admitted. “I’d tell you
if it was me. I think they’re very cute like this.”

“Oh definitely.”

They checked out dozens of trees. The kids were fascinated by the process. Steve knew enough
about trees to tell them about the different kinds, showing them how the needles furled out in
different ways, how the branches diverged in different patterns.

“That tree’s too big, baby,” Mr. Stark told Morgan, who was standing reverentially in front of a
twelve footer.

“But it’s pretty.”

“Maybe we can find one that looks like it, but smaller. Like just a bit bigger than Steve.”

“Stand in front of it. I’ll take your picture,” Steve suggested, cause he’d found that more times than
not, taking a picture of something was enough for the kids to be able to move on from it. “We’re
just using anything as a measuring tool now, aren’t we?” he added in an undertone to the mechanic.

“Shush. Now go stand over by that tree that’s about the size of three goats stacked on top of each
other-”

“No,” he laughed.

It took some heavy negotiating but they finally found a tree that both the kids liked, a feat done
with surprisingly few arguments or tears. “I like the way it smells,” Peter told Mr. Stark.

The mechanic squatted next to him. “Do you really? What does it smell like?”

“Steve,” Peter said solemnly.

Mr. Stark laughed outright at that. “It does smell like Steve’s aftershave,” he agreed. “I like the
smell too.”

Steve was turning red, despite the cold. “I’m going to- hot cider- I’ll get us all some. Hang on.”
“You must be pink from the cold,” the woman at the cider booth told him cheerfully. He nodded,
not trusting himself to talk.

Somehow they’d gotten the tree on top of the car by the time he came back. He tested the kids’
ciders before handing them over; they were sitting in Mr. Stark’s lap and looking very sleepy
indeed. “We’re both going to end up finishing these,” he mused, indicating the kid’s cups.

“Seems likely,” Mr. Stark whispered.

“You know what I’d like,” the mechanic said some time later, as they were driving home. He
glanced in the rear view mirror more than once. Steve looked back too. The kids were sacked out
in their car seats. “What’s that?” he asked absently.

“I’d like a good night’s sleep.”

“You don’t think you’re going to sleep well after this? I don’t even know how you got the tree up
there by yourself and we’re still going to have to get it down before we’re done-”

“Captain, maybe I’m being too demure- that is one of my greatest failings-”

“You, demure-?”

“I thought maybe you’d stay in my bed tonight,” Mr. Stark said quietly. He tapped the display.
“You’ve been off the clock for the past seventeen minutes. Friend a la friend.”

“Just to sleep? I mean…” Steve went pink. “Or… you want more?” He glanced into the backseat
self consciously, but the kids were definitely knocked out, Morgan slumped forward, the harness
holding her up, Pete lolling to the side. They couldn't hear Tony and Steve. He inhaled, looking
back at Tony. Waiting.

“I thought maybe just some companionship tonight. I wouldn’t be opposed to some cuddling,” the
mechanic added mildly, staring out of the front windshield. “But I want you to be comfortable.”

Steve reached over tentatively, caressing the side of Mr. Stark’s face. Steve's hand slipped lower,
grabbing on to his bicep. Just feeling the strength there, the muscle below the skin. He worked his
fingers over the muscle, quiet and enthralled by the sensation, by being able to touch without
regret. The man shivered under his touch. “Will you hold my hand again, Tony?”

“Absolutely.”

“And… could you kiss me on the cheek like you do sometimes?”

“I’ll never turn down that offer.”

Steve looked out at the world. Peaceful, cold, with a hint of snow to come. “Tony, I’d like that,” he
said. He wanted more. He was afraid to do more. This would be a good start. Wouldn't it? "Could I
touch you? In other ways? I just," he blushed, "I like your- everything. I've been wanting," Christ,
he couldn't say these things with the kids back there, unconscious or not, "wanting to touch you
since I met you. Is that creepy? It's creepy. I'm-"

"Captain, I'll be fascinated with anything you decide to do. You have my permission, heart and
soul. As much or as little as you want tonight. But I'll definitely kiss your cheek. I like that too."

"Good," he managed.
 Chapter 38

“You need help?”

“I’ve got it- are you sure that you can lift that on your own-” Steve cut him off by lifting the tree
bodily off the ground. It was heavy, yes, but not out of his realm of possibility for what he could
lift. Mr. Stark turned, one kid asleep on each hip. “Christ.”

“I’ll follow you.”

“This is incredibly hot,” Mr. Stark said, opening the back door. “I never knew this could be a
fantasy.”

“Tony, you’re going to make me blush.”

“That’s not a deterrent, Captain.” He pivoted at the front hall. “You’re incredibly handsome.”
Steve dropped the tree with a thump. He glanced guiltily at the mechanic but Mr. Stark was
grinning like he’d won some kind of goal.

“For what it’s worth, I’m pretty sure I could lift you if you keep misbehaving,” Steve said casually.

“Now, who’s flirting-?”

“Up. Come on. Which one do you want me to dress?”

Mr. Stark thought about it. “Morgie,” he decided.

Steve took her, got her undressed, woke her long enough to get her to try to potty, and had her in
her pajamas by the time she fell back asleep. He gave her lots of kisses, tucked her in, and found
Mr. Stark waiting at the door.

“Let’s talk downstairs,” he said.

“Am I in trouble?” he joked nervously.

“Absolutely not,” Mr. Stark said, reaching out his hand. He took Steve’s hand in his own, leading
him down the stairs. “I just thought we should talk things out in a more neutral setting than my
bed.”

“Ah. That’s actually really thoughtful.”

“Plus I want to see you lift that tree single handedly again.”

“Welcome back. We missed you,” he said, deadpan. Mr. Stark barked a laugh at that. “Can I ask
you something?” he said, lifting the tree with a grunt. He carried it over to the fireplace where
they’d set up the holder.

“Always.”

“What do you find attractive about me?” he asked, feeling stupid.

Mr. Stark seemed to truly ponder the question. “I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t an immediate
physical attraction,” he mused. “When I hired you. But I was willing to ignore it. Contrary to
popular rumors, I don’t sleep around. Haven’t been like that in twenty years.”
He circled the tree, coming back to where Steve was half hidden. “I love the way you dance. I love
your laugh. I want to make you laugh every day of my life. You’re kind. You make me feel safe.
You’re intelligent, but I don’t feel like we’re competing with each other. If anything, I think we
complement each other. And-” He cut himself off. “Too much?”

Steve shook his head. “I like how funny you are,” he admitted. “How much you love the babies.
You listen to me.”

“But you’re not physically attracted to little old me,” Mr. Stark intoned gravely.

“Shut the fuck up,” Steve said, giving him a dirty look. “Have you looked in a mirror recently?”

“I’m afraid to, tonight. I’ve been wearing that hat for hours-”

“I’m attracted to you,” he said very, very quietly. “I think you’re gorgeous.” This seemed to startle
Mr. Stark out of whatever he was going to say next. He stopped mid-retort, his ears turning pink.
Steve worried over what this reaction meant. “Tony, what are we doing?”

Mr. Stark had found his tongue again. “Right now or in general?”

“Why not both?”

“Right now we’re setting up a Christmas tree,” Mr. Stark pointed out. “Could put the lights on, I
guess. In general…” He shrugged. “What are you hoping to get out of this relationship?”

He looked up at that. “Are we in a relationship?”

“We’re friends. Could be more. If you wanted.” Mr. Stark rubbed the back of his leg with his foot.
“Could keep things the way they are. I’m not going anywhere.” His eyes searched Steve, seared
him to the spot.

“You want more than just holding hands,” Steve said quietly.

“Do I? What do I want, Captain?”

“I don’t know. I just know you can’t depend on me. I can’t do the things people want from a
relationship.”

Tony crossed his arms, hugging his center. He frowned. “What is it that I’m already missing out
on?”

Steve bit his lip. He’d been doing that a lot. “I don’t work the way I’m supposed to. I get scared.
I-”

“You don’t…? Oh.” Tony made a motion with his finger. “That’s okay, Steve-”

“No, jesus- I-” Steve was blushing profusely now. “It’s not that. Never that. I’d rather die.”

“Well, that’s a bit dramatic, but as a fellow man under the age of 80, I guess I’d have to agree. So
you’re in full functioning order. What did you mean then? Wait, hang on-” Mr. Stark made a
motion indicating time out for both of them with his hands. “Steve, come sit down. We’re trying to
anticipate what each other’s going to say instead of just listening to each other.”

Steve shivered. “I tried dating after the incident,” he explained, his eyes cast downward. “It used to
be so much fun. It was exciting. Afterwards…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I just felt scared.
It felt like a chore. I… I don’t work.”
“I don’t understand what you mean by that, Steve.”

He swallowed hard. “I’m getting better,” he insisted. “It was worse before. Right after it
happened.”

Mr. Stark slipped closer to him. Close, but not touching. Steve appreciated the care in the gesture,
but he wanted the contact. He closed the gap. “This is embarrassing,” he said after a silence.

“You have nothing to be embarrassed about. I just want to understand.”

“I didn’t really want to have sex after it happened,” he said dully.

Mr. Stark took his hand carefully. “That’s understandable,” he said mildly.

Steve flexed his jaw. “But I also kind of did?” he said, his voice dropping. “I loved sex before. It
was fun and easy and I’m-” He cut himself off. He was going to say something stupid, like ‘I’m
good at it.’ Jesus. “My boyfriend wouldn’t touch me. I got it in my head that we were going to just
go back to the way things were and I tried to get in bed with him… he didn’t want me to touch
him…”

Mr. Stark squeezed his hand. His eyes were watching Steve’s but he wasn’t running. That had to be
a good sign. “He said maybe we should take a break from each other. I just felt kind of numb. We
did all the normal things, except-” He shrugged. “Sometimes he’d seem interested and we’d
almost- and then we wouldn’t, he’d change his mind. I felt like my body must be so disgusting-”

He stopped. Recalibrated. “I’d really liked him,” he said softly. He looked around the room.
“Thought maybe we’d get married. Had this whole idea of who I was dating. He said… all the
things he’d been attracted to, about me, weren’t there anymore…”

Here he stopped. “I want to hug you,” Mr. Stark told him. He nodded frantically, practically falling
into the man’s embrace.

“Sorry, Tony. This can’t be what you wanted.”

“I need to know these things, Captain. I’m not going to hurt you. I won’t do it.”

“He and I, we just went back and forth for months after it happened and it- made it- worse,” he said
shakily. “He was supposed to love me. I still wanted to- and then he didn’t- and I.”

“That guy sucks.”

He swallowed, burying his face in Mr. Stark’s shoulder. As if the stuff he was talking about wasn’t
embarrassing enough, now he was getting all choppy. “Sorry.”

Mr. Stark just waited him out. He squeezed Steve’s shoulders, silently encouraging him onward.
“We broke up,” Steve said quietly. “And I don’t know. Somewhere along the way, a wire got
crossed. I’d get horny and then I’d do- things- and I’d just start crying. It’s not really masculine, is
it?” he asked, his voice very small.

“You’re no less of a man, Steve.” Tony carded a hand through the back of his hair. “I think it’s
understandable. How you felt.”

He needed to say everything if he was going to see this through. “I don’t know how I’ll react to
things. I tried- with this guy last year. New Year’s. He kissed me and he touched me. I wanted to
feel normal again. It had been so long. I thought I’d be fine. He opened my pants. I threw up.” He
said all of this very quickly. If he was going to ruin this, he wanted it over with already. “I just felt-
so anxious- I don’t know.”

“You’re afraid of how you’ll react if we tried messing around,” Mr. Stark surmised.

“Yes,” Steve admitted miserably. “You deserve better.”

“I don’t want to mess around,” Mr. Stark said.

He looked up. He’d had this whole conversation for nothing? Mr. Stark didn’t want to have sex
with him? Mr. Stark seemed to interpret the look on his face. He wagged a finger in front of
Steve’s face. “I’m not saying never. We’re both admittedly attracted to each other. But you’re not
the only one with issues.”

“You think you’re worse than me? Is that possible?” Steve asked bemusedly.

Mr. Stark snapped his fingers, pointing at himself. “Dead wife,” he said, actually sounding quite
serious. “You’re not the only one who’s afraid of how things will play out. I’d like to be the man I
was before. I’m not that man right now. You’re not the man you were before. Maybe we can find
our way back together.”

“I wish I could kiss you.”

“We’ll get there. Or we won’t. Either way, I’m your friend. Big fan of Steve Rogers.”

Steve shuffled his feet. “So I probably messed up your idea for tonight,” he said glumly. He was
surprised at how disappointed he felt.

“I’m still down for co-sleeping if you are.” He looked up. Mr. Stark tried for a roguish grin. “You
make me feel safe. I make you feel safe, you said. Maybe we need to ease into it. Start small.”

“Sharing a bed is starting small?”

“I’ve done much worse,” Mr. Stark said cheerfully. He got up, offering his hand to Steve.
“Captain?”

He took the proffered hand. “Tony.”

“Come here,” Mr. Stark gently grasped Steve’s wrist, exerting the minimum necessary force to pull
the ex-soldier towards him. “Let me hold you. I love holding you.”

Steve exhaled.
 Chapter 39

“What are you doing tonight?” Morgan asked.

He hummed. “Game night with my friends.” He leaned closer to the tree so that she, sitting on his
shoulders, could reach the branch she wanted to put her ornament on.

“What’s that?”

“We play board games. Eat Chinese food.”

“It’s fun?”

“Lots of fun,” he said cheerfully. “What are you going to do?”

“Daddy’s going to watch Christmas movies with us and we’re going to make cookies.”

He trekked around the tree to where the other half of the Stark family was. “Not my favorite movie
without me,” he said accusingly. Mr. Stark looked up at him, wide eyed and innocent. “No,no, no,
we’ll just give that one a skip, Captain. That was totally the plan all along. Plenty of clay to go
around.”

“We’re going to make you a present,” Peter said, tugging on Steve’s shirt. “We work on it when
you’re not here.” Mr. Stark put a finger to his lips and Pete quieted, trying to conceal a smile. He
buried his face in Mr. Stark’s shoulder. Steve could hear him giggling. He decided to tease him.

“Oh, yeah? What?”

“Steve, we can’t tell you,” Morgan said, punctuating her point by tugging on his hair. “You’re
trying to trick us.”

“Just a little. Sorry, honey.” He blinked hopefully at Peter. “Will you save me some cookies?” The
five year old nodded, petting his face. Morgan slipped off his back, getting tired of waiting for him.
She dashed back over to where the ornaments were. “What do you want for Christmas?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Pete said, his brow furrowed. “I need to think about it.”

He huffed a laugh. Sometimes Pete sounded so much older than he was. “Alright, give it some
thought. What about you, Morgan?”

“Barbies and dinosaurs,” she said, appearing at his elbow in an instant.

“Barbies and dinosaurs,” he echoed.

“When is your mommy coming over?” she asked him next. “You said she was going shopping with
us and we haven’t.”

“We’re going clothes shopping and that’s on Monday. Two days,” he advised, holding up fingers to
illustrate. “Can you wait that long?”

“Yeah…” But she looked disgruntled. He shrugged at the mechanic.

Mr. Stark had been pretty quiet this morning. Steve’s back itched if he thought about it. He thought
everything had been alright, but now he wondered if their talk last night had been too much. He-
There was a hand on his shoulder, the mechanic making eye contact with him when he looked up.
“Lost in your thoughts?” he asked quietly. Steve turned the corners of his mouth up, nodding
slightly. ‘Caught me,’ he mouthed. “Give me a hug,” the mechanic said next, and yeah, his mom
had been right- Mr. Stark liked to hug and he was weak for it, himself.

“Steve sad?” Peter asked.

“I’m never sad when I’m with you,” he said immediately. “Daddy’s just loving on me a little.
Aren’t you?”

“That’s right, Captain.” Mr. Stark’s eyes were fond. “When does your friend get here?”

He checked his watch. “Bucky’s probably just stumbling out the door now. Not a morning person.”

“Gives us enough time to finish the tree.” Mr. Stark eyed it critically. They’d been surreptitiously
moving ornaments higher all morning. The bottom third of the tree still looked like a Liberace
special. Mr. Stark pointed out some of the ornaments to him- ones that his mother had owned,
ornaments the kids had made in school, and one that his wife had given to him, the first year
they’d been married. He’d glanced almost guiltily at Steve.

“It’s beautiful,” he said, and it was true. “We should move it higher so it doesn’t get knocked down
by accident,” he added. “Can I-?”

“Go ahead, Captain. Wherever you think it’s safe.”

With the tree done, the kids moved on. Morgan had brought her doll down and seemed to be
packing a bag. Steve would have been more worried, but he’d watched her pack up her Tigger
backpack with her worldly possessions dozens of times now and she usually moved one room
down and repacked it again.

Pete wandered over to where they were slumped on the couch. “Daddy, about Christmas…”

Mr. Stark lifted Pete easily, settling him on his lap. “You thought of something?”

“Uh huh.” Peter looked up at him, hand closing on Steve’s sleeve as well. He tugged and Steve
leaned over so he could hear. “I want a sleepover. Like you said. But just us.”

“Just you and me?” Mr. Stark inquired.

“And Steve,” Peter said promptly. “No Morgan.” Steve was surprised. That was pretty direct for
Pete.

“Morgan would feel left out…”

Pete pivoted in his lap. “It could be a secret,” he whispered. “Something for me?” And even
though he didn’t say anything else, they all understood that he rarely asked for much else. Steve
hoped Mr. Stark wouldn’t say no.

Mr. Stark hummed. He glanced at Steve, seeking permission. Steve nodded, lifting his shoulders.
He wasn’t opposed to the idea but Morgan would definitely want to be there or have something of
her own and he got the sense that Peter didn’t want either scenario. He wanted something special.

“Okay,” Mr. Stark said hesitantly. “If Steve’s okay with it. But you still need toys for Christmas.
What about those, big boy?” He caressed Pete’s hair. “Legos?” he asked knowingly.
Pete glanced up at him. “Legos,” he agreed. “Anything.”

The doorbell rang. “I’ll get it,” Morgan shouted, streaking past them. “I’ll follow her,” Steve
promised, springing to his feet. “It’s probably just Bucky, but-”

He hustled, but there was no need. She was at the door, pressing her face to the glass window, but
she hadn’t opened it. “Who is it?” she shouted, looking up at Bucky, clearly outlined in the door.
“Bucky!” he yelled at her through the glass. “What’s the password?” she called back.

“Oh my god,” Steve laughed. He yanked the door open. Morgan gave him her look. “He didn’t
know the password,” she said tartly.

“Baby, I don’t even know the password. Come on, Buck, you look cold.” He yanked Bucky across
the threshold.
 Chapter 40

They parked at the bridge, electing to walk around despite the dropping temperatures. Bucky had
the freshly awoken look about him.

“You watched the Bruins the other night?”

“They’re getting cocky just because they’ve had some good wins. They let three goals in
unnecessarily-”

“Sam doesn’t understand why you support them, you know.”

“Dad was a Boston guy. It’s in my blood. Anyways, Sam sticks with his southern teams and he’s
been up here for ten years-”

“You’re both insane,” Bucky laughed.

“Is Sam still cooking? Help me pick out whatever it is he doesn’t have in his kitchen at this point-”

“But what are we getting Nat?”

“I’m getting her rollerblades, I don’t know what you’re getting-”

They continued to squabble as they moved down the road, stopping to get a beer at a local pub.
Steve loved being with Bucky. He was fun, he was intuitive, and he’d never stopped treating Steve
like the kid he’d been all those years ago when they’d first met.

“Are you warm enough?”

“What are you, my mother? I have like three layers on, look-”

“You’re never going to get us to stop worrying about you, punk. We love you too much.”

“That’s what Nat said the other day.”

Bucky eyed him over his beer. He made a motion for the waitress, pulling her over. Steve could
tell from the starry look she was giving his friend that she was going to be severely disappointed by
the end of this meal. Bucky ordered them fried cheese. “Between this and the Chinese food later,
I’m going to spend tomorrow chained to the bathroom,” he muttered in the brunette’s ear.

“What’s the matter, Stevie? Can’t handle fried food anymore. Getting old?”

“You’re two months younger than me, asshat.”

“Why was Nat worried about you the other day?”

“I got hit by a car.” Bucky spit his beer across the bar. Steve grinned. It had been worth it for the
reaction alone. “Only mildly hit.”

“Steve, you’re going to kill me one of these days,” he groused, sopping up the beer with napkins.
“Explain-”

Steve talked him through the past couple of weeks, stopping whenever their waitress was near. He
looked warily around them- he didn’t like talking about this at all, let alone in public. Luckily,
Bucky had the backstory down pat.

When they got to the part about the conversation he’d had the night before, Bucky tossed a couple
of twenties down on the bar. “Let’s beat it,” he said, jerking his head for the door.

They strolled down the street. “Do you want to have sex with him?” Bucky asked finally.

He turned red; he could feel his ears smarting from the blood. “Yes,” he said lowly.

“Well, that’s nothing to be ashamed of. He’s a good looking guy and he takes good care of you.
We would have intervened by now if we’d thought he was going to hurt you in any way.” Bucky
bumped shoulders with him. “I didn’t know you were having trouble,” he said carefully.

He bit his tongue. “It’s not an every time kind of occurrence anymore,” he admitted. “But it’s
embarrassing. Like, who would want to put up with that?”

They lapsed into silence. “Let’s head for the car. We can pick up the Chinese on the way.”

“We have to get ice cream,” Steve said. “I owe Nat.”

“I’m driving-” Bucky ran ahead to the car, Steve taking off a couple of seconds later as he
processed what had happened. “You know, though, Stevie,” his friend said, backing out of their
spot, “you wouldn’t have bothered to have that conversation with Stark if you didn’t want to have
sex with him on some level.”

“I want to have sex with him on every level,” he blurted out. Bucky wheezed. “Shut up. What am I
going to do?”

“Mm, no, if you’re asking for specific advice about your sex life I’m going to have to drive us into
the river-”

He smacked Bucky’s knee. “You’re the one that wants to fix me-”

Bucky turned the radio down. “I don’t need to fix you.”

“You know what I mean.” Steve looked out the window. It was beginning to flurry. It made him
feel strangely giddy, like when they’d been kids. “He’s paying for me to see a counselor,” he added
quietly. “Tuesdays. Said I should have someone to talk to.”

“Did you want that?”

He laughed mirthlessly. “No. Not really. But I think I should. I don’t like talking about it.”

Bucky reached over blindly, reaching for Steve’s face and managing to stick his fingers in Steve’s
mouth. He laughed, shoving the arm away. Buck just refocused, managing to pet his hair.
“Talking’s the worst,” he agreed.

Steve huffed a laugh. “I never thanked you. You saved me.”

“I don’t want you to thank me for that. I would do that every time, punk.” Bucky cut him a glance.
“That guy’s lucky I didn’t kill him. I wanted to. Your ex too. He sucked.”

Steve bobbed his head just slightly. “Do I have bad taste in people I date?”

Bucky considered it. They drove in silence for another three lights. “No,” Bucky said finally,
pulling into the grocery store parking lot. “We all got along with your ex before this happened.
There was no way to know he’d turn out to be such a douchebag. You didn’t make some stupid
mistake.” Steve felt better, hearing that.

“At least Tony knows the worst things about me,” he said carefully as they got out. “You know? If
these things I’m telling him doesn’t make him run, it’s hard to think that something else will. These
are some of the shittiest things I think you could tell another person about.”

“He won’t run. Come on. Let’s get Nat her ice cream.”

Sam and Nat were already there by the time they arrived with the food.

“How does Stark feel about you sharing a bed with this one, every Saturday practically?” Bucky
asked, snapping his fingers and pointing at their lithe redhead.

“He pretends to be jealous but he’s not,” Natasha said, cutting through them.

“Bring me some food, I can’t move the babies-” Sam hollered from the direction of the living
room. Steve raised an eyebrow at her. “The cats are sitting on him,” she explained.

“I thought he ‘hated’ the cats,” he said, using finger quotes.

“Sonny got out the other day and Sam spent the whole night trawling the neighborhood for him. So
now I think he’s just relieved they’re safe. You know he never hated them.”

“No, I know…”

“Anyway, let’s eat first and then we can start.”

“Right.” He was surprised but pleased when Bucky ended up flopping down beside him in the
loveseat. He sighed, loving the warmth that seeped through to him from the other man. Balancing
his plate in one hand, he rubbed the outside of the brunette’s leg vigorously. “I’m going to beat you
tonight.”

“Not on your life, punk.”

 Chapter 41

“You’re not sitting next to me?” he asked, surprised and a little offended, truth be told.

His mom had settled in between Jarvis and Mr. Stark. “No. Why are you so obsessed with me?”
Natasha snickered on his other side.

“I don’t know, Ma, I guess I just thought you’d always be by my side,” he said.

“I could switch, if it bothers you,” Mr. Stark whispered.

He swatted the mechanic. “Mom’s just teasing.” He shot a look at the older woman, who was
beaming at him, her mouth curved in that familiar teasing smile.

“Where are the other boys?” she asked.

“Christmas party at Bucky’s workplace. Free food trumps free entertainment.”

“We’ll get those bastards,” she said.

Mr. Stark had been thumbing through the program absently, but he looked up at that. “You’re
spicy tonight,” he said. “I love it. Are you sure you want to host us afterwards?” He took her hand;
Steve swore that she giggled.

Steve leaned back. “I’ve lost my mother,” he told Natasha.

“Now you’re just being dramatic. They’re very cute together.” She leaned into Steve’s space,
speaking directly into his ear. “If Tony marries your mom, it would give you a different reason to
call him ‘Daddy’.” He choked on his own spit. She thumped him on the back, smirking.

Mr. Stark leaned over. “For what it’s worth, I have impeccable hearing.”

“There’s no way you heard that,” Steve told him, wishing he could crawl under the chairs.

“Well, no, but it was worth a shot to find out what makes you go entirely pink.”

He shushed the mechanic. The lights were dimming. As the curtain started to rise, Mr. Stark took
his hand, slotting their fingers together. He was rubbing Steve’s wrist absently with his thumb.
Steve was starting to notice that Mr. Stark was very tactile, especially when he was anxious.

Changing the game a little, he pulled Mr. Stark’s hand over, resting it in his lap. He covered it
completely between his own hands, his fingers working the back of the skin.

He caught Morgan peeking out from behind the curtain at one point, looking through the crowd.
He nudged Mr. Stark and they waved to her, Steve making a slight flicking motion of his hand to
indicate she needed to go back. She ducked back out of sight. “That girl,” Mr. Stark murmured in
Steve’s ear.

He’d never liked the Nutcracker so much, the ballet usually way too slow for him, making him
jittery and impatient for the end, but he liked it now.

“You look like a dad,” Natasha teased him when the show was over and they were waiting for the
kids to be dismissed.
He shook his head, not sure what to say to that. Parenthood had seemed so far away, just a couple
of months ago and yet now, as he watched Morgan running up to his mother, Mr. Stark close by
her, it felt frighteningly close. “Oh, I wouldn’t be good at it-”

She tsked that. He shuffled his feet, giving her a small uncertain smile. “Wouldn’t I?” he asked
again.

“You know that’s not true,” she said. “Look, there’s your favorite-”

“He’s not my favorite,” he protested, but he was dragging her through the crowd of parents, aimed
like a heat seeking missile towards Peter and a larger boy with darker skin. “Hi, baby boy,” he said,
dropping to his knees.

Peter had been looking overwhelmed; now he brightened. “Steve!” He darted forward. “Did you
see me fight the Rat King?”

“You were so brave.” Steve lifted him off his feet, swinging him back and forth. Peter giggled. “Is
this Ned?”

“Yes! Ned! Come here. Meet my-” He looked up at Steve quickly. “Meet Steve. I told you about
him.”

“Woah!” The other five year old was eyeing him. “You’re huge.”

He heard Natasha laugh at him, behind him. “I’m tall?” he asked. Ned nodded wordlessly. “And
strong,” Peter chimed in, climbing onto Steve like he was a junglegym. “He lifted our Christmas
tree. With one hand!”

Steve had never seen Peter like this, so energetic and excitable. He leaned on Steve, waved at
Natasha, and implored both of them to come meet Ned’s family. “That’s Steve and that’s my
aunt!” he was already telling a Polynesian woman when they made it through the crowd. “Where’s
Daddy?” he asked.

“He was with Morgan-”

Mr. Stark had found them. “Thank god, he’s so tall,” he joked, slinging an arm around Natasha’s
waist. “He’s my North Star,” he said, without a trace of shame or mockery. “Oh-” He’d just noticed
the Leeds family. He came at Peter’s calling, but Steve noticed that shyness that normally seemed
so antithetical to the elder Stark’s personality. Maybe he was more like Peter than they thought, he
mused.

They had a little party at his mom’s house. “You must be starving,” Mr. Stark said gravely,
looking at the back seat while Steve drove them over. “You haven’t eaten since last week.”

“Steve gave us snacks,” Morgan protested. “You’re being silly,” she accused.

“Daddy, can we dance?” Pete piped up. “When we get to Steve’s mommy’s house?”

“I’ll always dance with you but you have to eat first. I can barely hear myself think over the sound
of Morgan’s stomach-”

“You’re going to get her worked up,” he commented quietly.

“Mm. At any rate, I’m starving.” He looked into the backseat. “Steve didn’t give me any snacks.”
“I thought I was snack enough for you,” he joked softly.

Mr. Stark inhaled sharply. “You are quite the dish,” he agreed.

“Oh, god, Tony that’s so bad.”

The others had just made it to the house themselves when they pulled up. Natasha had ordered the
pizzas apparently. She helped the kids change out of their costumes while everyone was waiting
for the food to arrive. Steve liked this rarely seen maternal side of her. He thought about the look
on her face when Pete had called her his aunt.

Mr. Stark found him while he was pulling out desserts. Mom had gone overboard, unsurprisingly.
“Thanks for coming tonight.”

“Are you kidding? Thanks for letting me go.”

“The kids love you.”

He smiled softly. “Not as much as they love Daddy.”

“Chances are, they wouldn’t have been in the play if we didn’t have you. And I would have missed
the performance. We need you, Captain. You make us better.”

He looked up. “Are you okay? You’ve seemed a little sad, just here and there.”

Mr. Stark considered him carefully. He tapped the calendar on the wall. “My parents died on this
date. Twenty-three years ago. Normally I’m kind of a mess on the anniversary.”

“Holy shit- Tony, I didn’t know.” Steve slipped around the table, pulling him into a hug that he
hoped conveyed how much he loved the other man, how he understood how bad anniversaries
fucked you up. He heard the other man sigh a little. “Captain,” the mechanic said fondly. “You
make everything so much easier. I hope you know that.”

“We help each other.”

“Do I help you? Sometimes it feels like I just take and take, without giving anything back.”

“God no, Tony.” He pulled back, plucking at the bottom of his sweater absently. “I’m world’s
better with you in my life.”

He was rewarded with a small smile. The doorbell rang. “I’d better go pay for the pizza before
anyone else tries,” the mechanic said, dashing off with rapidity. Steve watched him go.
 Chapter 42

“This is okay? It’s not exactly what you signed up for.”

It was Wednesday. They’d taken Morgan out to a trampoline park while Pete was at school. Now
both kids were in bed for the night. Morgan had dozed off, mid dinner, her face almost falling into
her plate; Tony had hastily caught her before she full on slumped onto the table. ‘Might have been
too much exercise,’ he’d admitted idly, settling her into his lap and continuing on with his meal.

Steve followed him up the stairs, their shoulders touching. “I didn’t exactly apply for the position
in a typical way. Nothing about this job has been exactly what it probably should have been.”

“But you’ve enjoyed it so far?”

“But I’ve enjoyed it so far,” he agreed. “Now quiet. This is an extraction.”

“Yes, Captain.”

He could practically feel the amusement and borderline excitement oozing off the other man
though. He shook his head fondly at the mechanic, gripping his arm. They pushed Pete’s door open
carefully.

“You’re back?” Pete asked sleepily. Steve pressed a finger to his lips. Peter perked up. He wiggled
upright again, watching them with interest. Mr. Stark was the one to lean over the toddler.
“Sleepover?” he asked quietly. “Secret sleepover?” Pete nodded excitedly. Steve’s heart couldn’t
take it, especially not when Tony pecked Pete on the lips, their foreheads pressed together.

He was the one to pick up Peter and carry him down the hall to the mechanic’s room. Pete was
practically vibrating with excitement and Steve was sure that they’d get found out, but Pete was
absolutely silent, pressing his mouth to Steve’s neck, perhaps in an attempt to quiet himself. Steve
followed Mr. Stark in, the mechanic shutting the door softly.

“You’ve done well, young padawan,” the mechanic told the five year old cheerfully. He stole Peter
from Steve’s arms. “Look how big you’re getting,” he added, lifting Pete above his head. “You
were supposed to stay little forever.”

“I’m big and little.”

“You strike a hard balance.” He dipped the boy, making him squeal.

“You’re going to wake him up,” Steve whispered, but it was hard to be reproving.

“Tonight, Steve’s the responsible one,” Mr. Stark whispered to Peter, making him giggle. He
dropped Pete on the bed. Peter bear walked his way over to Steve. “I’m always the responsible
one,” Steve confided loudly. “Give me another hug?”

He laid down on his usual side, the side that smelled most like Mr. Stark, he was learning, with
Peter curling up in his hold. Mr. Stark was still puttering around the room; Steve and Peter watched
him as he took off his watch, turned off his phone, and slung his hoodie over the back of a chair.
When he turned and found them both watching him, he cracked a grin. “Alright,” he said, like he
was suffering for it. “I’ll come to bed.”

“Want a massage,” Peter said.

“You want a massage?” Mr. Stark sat cross legged, his head propped on his elbow. “From me?”

“Uh huh.”

“Wow, this is way more than I signed up for.” Peter made grabby hands. “Okay. But just cause
you’re cute.”

“I can’t believe this, you give massages?” Steve said in mock disbelief. Mr. Stark gave him an
appraising look, a suggestive lilt to his mouth. Steve rolled on his side, watching Mr. Stark tug
Peter into place, laying him down on his back. “Is Daddy good at it?”

Pete nodded, playing with his facial features. “You want one?”

He bit his tongue, crinkling his eyes down at Pete. “Maybe some other time,” he said softly. “Can
I see how Daddy does with you first?” He nodded.

“I can’t believe you’d doubt me,” Mr. Stark joked. He walked his fingers over Peter’s forehead and
down his cheeks, fingers catching under his ears. Steve could tell the mechanic was being gentle,
almost exploratory.

He watched without making contact, afraid that he’d pull Pete back out of this semi-trance Mr.
Stark seemed to be pulling him in. From his face, Mr. Stark moved down, brushing slow circles
starting at the center of his chest and working outward.

“Don’t fart on me,” Mr. Stark commented, pushing Pete’s legs up so that they bended at the knee
and then straightened them again. Pete giggled at that. “Does it make you fart?” he asked, curious.

“Sometimes. I used to do this when you were a baby,” he said, demonstrating a bicycling motion
with Pete’s legs. “Helps with gassy babies. But you don’t need that now. Not unless we eat
nachos.”

“I never fart,” Peter insisted. “Farting’s rude. Steve’s mommy says.”

Steve couldn’t imagine when this conversation had taken place. He broke his rule about not
talking. “Did she tell you that? When?”

“When you and Daddy went to the show. Morgan was doing it.”

“Huh.” Steve watched Mr. Stark rubbing Peter’s feet. “You look very relaxed,” he told the toddler.
“Daddy’s doing a good job. Tell me,” he yawned, “tell me about yourself. I want to know
everything about you. What are you and Ned doing in preschool?”

Pete sounded sleepy. “We’re building a robot.”

“You’re building a robot?” Mr. Stark asked, intrigued. With one hand under Pete’s bum and the
other supporting his neck, he picked the toddler up. Pete’s whole body was lax. Steve pushed the
blankets back, helping guide him back to his original position. “What does your robot do?”

“It’s going to be a little friend. It follows us around.”

“Like a pet?”

“Yeah…”

“How are you building this robot?”

Pete exhaled loudly, his eyes closed. “I don’t know. Miss DiBrigida said I can’t take apart the
computer.”

“For parts.”

“That’s right.”

Mr. Stark seemed to be at war with himself. Steve wondered what was going on behind those
brown eyes. “I used to do that. Let’s talk more about this. When you’re awake.” He crawled in on
Peter’s other side, turning out the last light so that they were plunged in near darkness. “Sleepy,
baby?”

“A little,” Steve joked.

Mr. Stark snorted. “And what about Peter?”

“I don’t want to sleep,” Peter whispered. “I want to stay up with you.”

“Just until you fall asleep.” Mr. Stark turned on his side, throwing an arm over Peter; Steve could
feel it there, the mechanic’s fingers brushing against his hip, slipping under his shirt momentarily.
This would be a terrible time to get aroused, he decided. Snagging his hand, he pressed the
mechanic’s hand to Pete’s chest, covering it with his own. He could see the man’s grin in the
darkness, triumphant.

“Daddy, you love me?”

“With all my heart, baby.”

“Steve?”

“I adore you, Pete.”

Peter hummed. Steve’s hand on Tony’s twitched. Uncovering it, he rested his hand lower, feeling
the edges of Pete’s ribs under his touch, could feel his stomach gurgle. Peter reached for their
hands. “Love Daddy,” he mumbled. “And Steve.”

Steve’s eyes had adjusted enough to see Mr. Stark kiss the corner of Pete’s mouth. “You’re falling
asleep,” he pointed out.

“Not…” But he was and he had clasped onto their hands. If he was doing the same thing to Tony
that he was to Steve, holding onto his fingers, they would have to wait a while before they could
safely move. Steve found himself closing his eyes, listening to the soft in and out of Pete’s
breathing as he fell asleep. He traced circles in the middle of the boy’s chest; his heart beat so fast,
it felt like a bird in a cage.

“Do you think the kids are plotting against us?” Mr. Stark asked after an indeterminate amount of
time in which the captain might or might not have fallen asleep.

Steve’s eyes fluttered open. “Sounds paranoid. Plotting to do what?”

“This,” Mr. Stark indicated their trapped hands with his chin. “Trapping us like rabbits (“seems
dramatic”). Putting us in close contact with each other (“we live in the same house, Tony”).
Making you fall in love with me (“I didn’t need help with that, Tony”).”

There was a little pause. “Do you love me? I never want to press you.”
Steve raised his head. There was a voice in his head that told him to deny, to build a wall, to cover
himself from harm. He decided to ignore it. “Of course I love you. It’s impossible not to, Tony. I
love you a lot.”

Mr. Stark inhaled. He propped himself up on his elbow. “I don’t think I deserve you. You’re so
good.”

“Me?” He sat up, looking at the man. “Listen to us. What’s wrong with us?”

“We’re both traumatized, with a series of losses, and then there’s my personal faults to think of-”

Steve dipped his head, leaning over Peter to cut Tony off with a kiss. He wasn’t brave enough to
keep his eyes open, but he felt the moment where the other man’s delight exceeded how surprised
he was and a moment later there were those fingers curling through his hair, tugging on the roots.

Steve had forgotten what being in love felt like.

He cut himself off before it could turn into anything else- they had a five year old sleeping
between them- and drew back. “I should have asked,” he said, flustered. The thought remained-
he’d wanted to do more.

“You can always surprise kiss me. Always.”

“I’m sorry I send mixed signals.”

“It’s all coming from the same person.” And reaching for Steve, he pushed him gently back down
on the bed. “Get some sleep, Captain?”

“Yeah.”

Tony was looking down at the two of them, Pete who was now holding onto Steve’s t-shirt and
Steve, whose heart was racing in a pleasant way; bending over them, he pressed a kiss to Steve’s
forehead and then Peter’s.

“They’re definitely plotting against us,” Mr. Stark said, dropping down onto his pillow. “And it’s
working.”

Steve hummed. “Good.”

 Chapter 43

The problem, Steve decided, with kissing Tony Stark was that once you started kissing him, you
wanted to continue. It was like having mozzarella sticks midway through a diet. It made you forget
why you’d started dieting in the first place.

“What’s with you? You look practically goofy,” Natasha remarked over lunch.

“I do not.”

“Uh, you kind of do,” Bucky disagreed. He was examining Steve thoroughly with his eyes. Steve
had the impression he was being x-rayed.

He waved them off. “Where’s the waitress? I’m starving. I could eat the ass off a running skunk.”

“Oh, I’m so glad that you kept that saying alive,” Natasha murmured. It had been her grandfather’s
favorite saying. It tickled Steve. Natasha pretended to hate it. He flagged down their waitress.

“Ready to order?” she asked brightly.

“Not quite yet-”

He cut Natasha off. “We’ll order some appetizers and then the main meal afterwards. Can we have
an order of mozzarella sticks-” ‘cause fuck it, that’s why,’ he thought, “and the soft pretzels.”

“Anything to drink?”

“Just a ginger ale.” The two others put in their drink orders as well.

“If I didn’t know better…” Bucky trailed off. “Did you get laid?”

“What-? No,” he said loudly, very loudly apparently, because people from two tables away looked
at them. “No, nothing like that. We had Pete in between us-” Shit.

Natasha looked up from her menu. “Oh,” she said. “You were with Tony last night.”

“And Peter,” Bucky added. “But that doesn’t explain why you look sex stupid right now,” he said,
gesturing to Steve’s everything. “Not in front of the kid, Steve-”

Natasha sounded weirdly nostalgic. “Aw, I kind of miss sex stupid Steve. It was the only time we
could beat you at Trivial Pursuit, right after you’d-”

“Always was hard to arrange those two things in the right order though-”

Steve spoke over both of them. “Guys, this is a family restaurant.” He lowered his voice. “And I
don’t get stupid after having sex. Not every time. Pick your food. She’s going to be back any
minute. You guys do this every time we’re in a restaurant.” He tapped Bucky’s menu, indicating he
should perhaps look at it, pick a goddamn meal.

“You did something though,” Bucky said after they’d put their order in, after they’d gotten their
appetizers. He pointed a mozzarella stick at Steve accusingly. “Why do you make us fight you for
it? You want to tell us. We’re nosy. We want you to tell us. Everyone’s on the same page. Still you
make us beg.”
“It was nothing,” he insisted, feeling his face smart with increased blood flow. And then, because
he did really want to talk about, despite their teasing- “I kissed him.”

“You kissed him? Like you started it-?”

“Yes,” he said, and he couldn’t help it; a dopey grin spread across his face. “It wasn’t anything
special, very chaste. We had a five year old sleeping in between us. He wanted it as part of his
Christmas present- you know what, that doesn’t matter- I…”

Natasha reached for him, rubbing his arm firmly. “You had fun,” she said.

“Yes,” he admitted. He looked in between them. He was surprised at how pleased they were; it
was stupid to be so puffed up about one little kiss, but they were looking at him like he’d run a race
and come in first place. “I think- think I’d like to do more. Someday, you know? If he wanted to.”

“Stevie, he’d definitely be interested in doing more,” Bucky said. “You don’t seem to be aware of
how he looks at you.”

“He doesn’t look at me any different than anyone else.”

Bucky spread his hands out wide. “My point, exactly illustrated,” he said, deadpan.

Steve just laughed, chucking a pretzel at him.

“There is just one problem,” he said, after the meal was done and Natasha had insisted on paying.
“Well… a couple of problems. But one that’s pressing.”

“What’s the matter, Steve?”

He winced. “I still don’t have anything for Tony for Christmas. What do you get someone who can
buy themselves whatever they need?”

His friends looked at him speculatively. “What?” he asked, feeling hot under his collar. “You think
I should-?”

“No,” Natasha said, seeming to guess what he was implying. “There’s no need to rush anything.
You’re putting a lot of pressure on yourself,” she added as they left the restaurant. “Trying to put
too much on this. Tony would love anything you gave him. So start small.”

Start small… He had an idea he’d been kicking around for some time now, but it had seemed
stupid. “I’ll think about it. You mind dropping me off?”

“Would they let us go in and see the kids?” Bucky asked, pulling the car out into traffic. “Or would
that be an imposition?”

“Sometimes they let others in. We’d just have to sign you in. Today’s the last day the kids have
school for the year,” he added, pointing to where the brunette should turn. “Do you want to come
see them?”

“Uh, of course-”

“They’re going to think we never work,” Natasha whispered to Steve as they walked down the
hallways fifteen minutes later.

“I’ve never really understood your job,” he said, shrugging.

“It’s better that way,” she said, deadpan.

“One of these days you’ll tell us what you do,” Bucky said.

“You wouldn’t understand even if I did.”

Steve knocked on Morgan’s classroom door first. Her teacher opened it a moment later. “You’re
the first pickup today. Very prompt, Mr. Rogers.”

He smiled vaguely. “Can’t wait to get my girl back,” he said sheepishly. “Hi, baby,” he added,
because Morgan was there and underfoot a second later. She climbed up Natasha, chattering to her
about her latest project. Steve ducked into the classroom to grab her stuff and then they were down
the hall at Pete’s room.

“Steve, can Ned come over to our house over break?”

“I don’t know buddy, we’ll have to ask Daddy,” he said, sticking his tongue out slightly as he
zipped Pete’s jacket up.

“Bucky? Can I show Ned your arm?”

“Oh, Pete-”

“Yeah, little dude. Where’s Ned?”

Steve couldn’t help but cringe, worrying. He’d never asked Bucky how the man felt about all the
attention Pete and the other kids gave to his ‘robot arm.’ “He doesn’t mind,” Natasha said, quietly,
letting Morgan drop down to the floor to join Peter, Ned, and Bucky.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, worrier. A lot of adults pretend they don’t see it but they’re sneaking looks. Better that the
kids just ask their questions. You know that.” She nudged him. “Just make Tony something. From
the heart. And don’t be so anxious. The holidays are meant to be fun.”

He sighed a little. Pete and Mo were running towards him. He smiled at her. “I had one idea…”

“Go with that,” she advised. “It’ll be good. I know it.”

 Chapter 44
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

“Captain, you have a moment?”

Steve looked up. He’d been building train tracks with the kids and had admittedly gotten really into
it. His mom was coming over that night. He should have been getting the guest room ready so that
Jarvis wouldn’t have to do it. Maybe that’s why Tony had found him. “Yeah, of course. Keep
working on the town, babies.”

He got up with some difficulty- they’d built around him and to get out, he had to edge around the
different pieces, being careful not to step on small hands or townspeople (a motley collection of
Morgan’s Barbies, Pete’s Little People, and a bunch of dragons.

“Tough town,” Mr. Stark commented, grabbing his arm to stabilize him.

“You don’t say. Is something wrong?”

“No. I have a surprise for you.”

“For me?” Steve didn’t understand. He’d made the mechanic promise he wasn’t going to get him
anything ridiculous for Christmas, if at all, and anyways there was still days to go before the
holiday. “You didn’t need to get anything for me.”

“Shush. Someday you’ll let me do nice things for you without worrying about it. Until then, I’m
here to tell you that I enjoy doing it.” Mr. Stark was leading him away from the playroom and up
the stairs, towards Steve’s own quarters. He was confused, but interested despite his best efforts.

“You finally put that Jacuzzi in that I requested,” he guessed. “You expanded my bedroom. I have
the whole floor now.”

“You never requested a Jacuzzi,” Mr. Stark said, striding past Steve’s bedroom. “Did you want
one?”

“I’m- the- nanny,” Steve said, emphasizing each word clearly so that Tony would perhaps finally
understand.

“And you’re doing a great job- No. We’ll work on those requests, Captain. This one came to me
via a little birdie.” He pushed open the door at the end of the hall, the spare bedroom at the front of
the house.

Only it wasn’t a spare bedroom anymore. “What did you do?” Steve asked slowly, trailing into the
room.

He’d retrieved a bureau from this room at the beginning of moving into the Stark mansion, back in
the summer and it had been a normal bedroom then with a bed and some furniture, curtains in the
windows, and a carpet. Someone had taken down the curtains, moved the furniture, and put in
hardwood flooring. Turning on his heel, he saw shelving added to two of the four walls, open spots
at the top for larger canvases and then smaller shelves for paints, brushes, sketch pads, and so on.
Someone- Mr. Stark- had filled those shelves with supplies. Some of which was his own.
There was an easel set up by the windows. The room was light and airy. Steve turned on his heel,
taking in the room. “This is an art room.” The mechanic nodded, smiling faintly at his surprise.
Steve was trying to make it all make sense. He looked at Mr. Stark, overwhelmed. “You did this?
For me?”

“Of course it’s for you,” Mr. Stark said, leaning on the door frame. “Early Christmas present.”
He’d watched Steve’s reaction mostly in silence. He seemed to be waiting, unsure of how Steve
would take it.

“But I,” Steve said weakly. “I’m just- How?”

“How, what?” Mr. Stark said, cocking his head.

“How’d you know I’d like this? I never said…”

“Natasha said you’d paint more if you had more room. We did the bulk of the work while you
were out with her. Bucky and Sam did a lot of the heavy lifting. They had the key to your storage
unit. They said you wouldn’t actually mind-?”

“It’s too much for me.”

“That’s not true at all.” Mr. Stark looked faintly worried. “Do you like it? You still have to sketch
in my lab. And in the library, the kitchen, the living room- all the other places you’ve been drawing
before now. If I see less of you, I’m revoking your art room privileges-”

Steve cut him off by darting forward and pulling him into a hug. “Woah, big boy,” Mr. Stark said,
grabbing him by the shoulders when Steve accidentally lifted him off his feet. “So we’re okay?”

“You’re too nice to me,” Steve said, kissing the seam between Mr. Stark’s neck and his shoulder.
“I never know what to do with it.”

“Accept it. Come to expect it. Challenge me to find new ways to make you look at me like this. All
of that jazz. Hey, honey? I really love you. Promise.”

Steve blushed. He’d been caught, he supposed, adoring the mechanic. It was hard not to. “I really
love you,” he said, his voice low. “I don’t know that I’ll ever come to expect anything from you.
You’re always surprising me.”

“Good,” Mr. Stark said, preening a little. “I prefer to remain an enigma.”

“The babies don’t know about this? They never would have been able to keep this a secret.”

“Ah, except for apparently invading your bedroom, the kids seem to understand the third floor’s
off limits.” Mr. Stark fished a key out of his pocket. It was an interesting key, golden with a blue
design sketched in the middle of it. “At any rate, this is the one key for the room and you’re free to
lock the door as you wish.”

“I’d like to paint you sometime,” Steve said without thinking.

“Like one of your French girls?” Mr. Stark said immediately, sounding excited. He waggled his
eyebrows at Steve.

“No, no! Completely clothed. Jesus, Tony-”

“Ha! I made you ‘Tony’ me. And while the sun was out too.” Mr. Stark was grinning now. “Why
 would you want to paint this old man?”

“Because this old man is 42 and gorgeous,” Steve said, stumbling over the words a little and
definitely turning red, but holding fast.

That knocked the smile right off of the mechanic’s face. There was a hint of doubt in the furrow of
his brow, a slight shake of his head. “You’re going to give me a heart attack,” he murmured.

“No…” But Steve was feeling bold. “Let me kiss you?”

Mr. Stark huffed a laugh. “I’ll never say no to that, Captain.”

Steve’s heart was beating a fast staccato in his chest. He ducked down, slotting his mouth to
Tony’s and this wasn’t the first time they’d done this, but it still felt new every time. He met
Tony’s lips with his own and deepened the kiss, letting his tongue slip forward, catching against
the mechanic’s teeth. Mr. Stark inhaled and it stole the air from Steve’s mouth.

He opened his eyes. Mr. Stark had closed his eyes too. From this close angle, Steve could almost
count the lashes on his eyes. Steve broke the kiss, slowly, regretfully. He leaned his forehead
against the mechanic’s, sighing softly. He was just beginning to learn to love kissing again.

He’d been gripping Mr. Stark’s shoulders and he didn’t want to let go just yet. Trailing his hands
down the man’s back, he slipped one hand under the soft overwashed band t-shirt, touching the
small of Tony’s back. Having caught his breath, he initiated another kiss.

“If I knew you’d react like this, I would have redone the entire mansion,” Mr. Stark said when they
stopped at last.

“One room is more than enough.”

“My offer to be your French girl still stands, Captain.”

“Oh my god. How would we even accomplish that? Where are we putting the kids?”

“Your mom’s house, duh- Maybe after New Years. We’ll pencil in a date.”

Steve was laughing, the blush still smarting in his cheeks. He lifted Tony impulsively, leaning the
brunette against him in a bear’s hug. His mechanic squeaked in a very unmanly way, scrambling to
grab Steve’s shoulders, and in that moment, Steve felt almost drunk with power. “I’m not
completely saying no,” he said amiably. “Tony, I love you.”

The brunette was combing his fingers through Steve’s hair. “You know what’s frightening? I love
you back.”

Chapter End Notes

Regarding the increasing chapter count, cause some people have asked me- it only
actually reflects the number of chapters I've written ahead at a given point of time. It's
a weird quirk of mine but it helps manage my anxiety. Yes, I know it's odd. Yes,
people have told me I need to stop doing it that way. No, I won't stop lol.
 Chapter 45

Steve stumbled down the stairs, his eyes barely open. He’d gotten up early to wrap his presents for
the kids before he’d gone on his run. His run had been cold; he’d admittedly fallen back asleep
when he’d gotten home.

The kitchen already smelled like coffee. Good. The Jarvises must already have been by. He
wandered into the kitchen, his eyes on the prize, the coffee machine-

“He was always really focused in the morning.”

Steve full body startled, nearly throwing a mug in the process. His mom was there, standing at the
kitchen table. Tony was sitting beside her. They already had coffee and what appeared to be danish
between them. He massaged his heart. “Why are you so quiet?’

“Cause we were waiting for you, Cap.”

His mom punched the mechanic. “We heard you coming down the stairs.”

“Like a herd of elephants-”

His mom spoke over Steve’s employer. “Anyways, good that you’re awake now. We’ve decided.
You should take Tony ice skating.”

“I should what?” Steve asked flatly.

His mom was holding onto Tony’s shoulders. They were looking at him imploringly. Steve
couldn’t believe how quickly his mom had abandoned him. “Ice skating. You used to skate all the
time. And Tony doesn’t know how.”

“How could you not know?” Steve said, despite himself.

“I never had fun, growing up,” Tony said, his eyes wide, watering slightly from the effort of
looking enticing apparently.

“He never had fun growing up,” his mom said, giving the mechanic a little shake to emphasize his
point. “Your friends are coming over. Grab the kids, take this one with you, and get out of my
mansion.”

“Ma- Your mansion?”

“She’s joking. Sort of,” Tony said, a wicked grin on his face. “I’m not. Please, Captain?”

“So,” he said, to recap, because he wasn’t sure if this was all some bizarre dream he was having,
“not only am I taking you, a grown ass man, somewhere you could easily go on your own, but I’m
making my friends babysit your children because me, a man who you pay to watch your children,
will be teaching you how to ice skate?” Tony looked back to check with his mother. She nodded at
him. He nodded at Steve. “Where are you going to be during all of this?” he asked her.

“Tony says I can use the jacuzzi in his room. I’ve had a hard life.”

“You have a jacuzzi in your room?” he asked, distracted. “Where?”

“It’s in the ensuite bathroom. Around the corner.”

“How do you know this mansion better than I do?” he asked his mother.

She shrugged. “I snoop. I’m old. I get away with it. I’m cute.”

“I’m not cute?”

“You’re adorable,” Tony said, grinning at him. “Wonderful, strong, handsome…”

He flapped his hands. “He doesn’t mean anything by this,” he said to his mother. “You know that
he flirts with everyone. He flirts with you. What, Tony? Yes, fine. We’ll go ice skating. Stop
making those eyes at me.”

And that was how he found himself in one of the most crowded parts of New York, kneeling in
front of three Starks who had never gone ice skating and did not know how to do up their skates
properly. The kids had been easy enough to fix. Working the laces over Tony's foot on the other
hand... “Your ankle can’t be flopping around,” he told the brunette. “You need to be able to stand
up.”

"For the record, nothing of mine just flops around-"

"Oh dear god," he muttered under his breath. The kids just giggled, thankfully not understanding
what joke Tony had made, but knowing that he'd said something to provoke Steve's reaction. "Not
in front of the babies," he hissed at the brunette. Tony's eyes were sparkling.

There was a cough behind him.

“Which Stark am I acquiring for the sake of this adventure?”

He turned around to find his three friends had found them. He looked at them carefully. “You and
Sam are with Morgan. Bucky’s with Petey. And I have this one.”

“Cause I’m clueless,” Tony said happily. He pointed into the crowd behind them. “Happy’s here,
keeping an eye on the kids cause I’m paranoid.”

“Don’t let them out of your sight,” Steve said pleadingly. “Not for a second.”

“Jeez, Steve, you think we’d lose your kids?” Sam ruffled his hair. The others had done up their
skates relatively quickly, Natasha’s fingers in particular adept at tightening the shoelaces. “Good
luck, Tony,” she said, pecking the man on the cheek. “Have fun, Steve.” She smacked him on the
ass on the way by.

“They’re fast,” he said helplessly. “They’ll catch up to her if she does a runner.”

“She’s literally holding both of their hands right now, Cap,” Tony said cheerfully. “But I
appreciate your concern. Pete, you okay?”

“Uh huh.” Pete was standing experimentally on his skates, his little legs wobbling. Bucky was
waiting patiently, hanging on to him with his real hand. “I’m ready,” he said, looking up at Buck.
"You won't let go? Not even a little?" Bucky shook his head. Pete caught Steve's collar in his hand.
"I'll stay with Bucky," he promised.

“Good man. Let’s go-” With one lift of his eyebrows, Bucky was off, towing Pete gently in his
wake, hanging on to both of his hands and letting him lean heavily against his legs.

“Now it’s just us,” Tony said.

“Nervous?”

“Always,” the brunette said, getting to his feet. “Feel better that I’ve got you with me.”

“I won’t let you fall,” Steve promised. “How do we want to do this?”

“Whichever way it is you think will keep me upright,” his companion said agreeably. Steve
frowned, thinking over the possibilities. He glanced at the crowd around them. “I don’t care who
sees us,” Tony said, correctly interpreting Steve’s glance.

Steve sighed gently. “Okay. Walk forward with me. When we get on the ice, you’re going to want
to push down with your feet. Keep your chin up- a lot of balancing is in your back and shoulders,
actually.”

“Hold my hand?” Tony really did sound nervous.

“Uh, we’re about to get a lot chummier than that-” He wrapped his arm around Tony’s waist,
hanging on to his hip. They were going to attract attention like this, no doubt about it. People
always stared at men who dared show PDA and add to the fact that Tony was a wealthy power
magnate- he might as well go all in. Taking Tony’s other hand, he pulled them onto the ice.

Tony immediately began to skid, his feet moving around- trying to correct himself and offsetting
his sense of balance even more. Steve coached him through it. “You’re okay. You’re okay- I’ve got
you. Get those feet below your shoulders again- bend the knees- see you’re fine-”

“Shit, I’m going to be bad at this.”

“I won’t let you fall once. I promised, didn’t I?”

“That’s right,” Tony said, suddenly seeming to gain his feet with difficulty. He grinned at Steve,
all goofy and sincere. Tony gripped Steve’s shoulders, his feet slowly sliding away from him.
“Your friends are coming over after to open presents?”

“And eat you out of house and home,” Steve concurred. “My mom’s in your Jacuzzi. I seem to
have overtaken your life. Sorry about that.”

“I like it,” Tony said softly, looking down at his feet.

Steve gripped the mechanic’s side a little tighter, pressing their hips together. Tony was a quick
learner; he suspected the man picked up most everything with little effort, but he wouldn’t let go of
Steve, looked mildly offended when he suggested it, and Steve, Steve didn’t want to let go. He
caught glimpses of the others, Morgan squealing as she was dragged around the ice rink, Pete and
Bucky making slow progress near the huge Christmas tree on the other side of the rink, Pete’s face
turned up to look at all the little lights.

“I’m going to be stiff after we’re done this,” Tony mused.

“Is that a euphemism,” Steve said, without thinking about it. “I mean-” He turned red, horror
struck. Tony laughed so hard that despite Steve’s best efforts, he managed to cascade down to the
ground, landing splayed on the ice. “Oh, god-”

He yanked Tony back to his feet, the force of which sent Tony shooting forward. “Never let me
fall, my ass,” the mechanic teased, clinging to Steve and laughing into his chest.

“That’s not my fault,” Steve protested.

“It’s completely your fault,” Tony said, lurching forward and continuing to giggle helplessly. He
leaned against Steve’s chest, propping his chin up to look up at him, their height difference
noticeable this close. “Stop being so funny.”

Steve's lips twitched. “I can’t. It’s part of my natural charm.”

“Guess we’re stuck with it.” Tony’s eyes were crinkled. “Steer me towards our babies?”

“Sure.”

They were halfway across the rink before Steve had processed what Tony had said. He glanced
over at Tony, but the mechanic was oblivious. Clinging to Steve's arm, he was looking around the
rink with great interest, waving to Morgan as she coasted by them, looking up at the lights, turning
to Steve with a glint in his eyes. Steve squeezed his hip, letting his hand dip lower for just a second.
 Chapter 46

He got up extra early that morning, running his fingers through the mechanic’s hair regretfully.
Tony was warm and safe and made it so hard to leave the bed in the morning, but it was Christmas
and the kids would be awake soon enough. He knew it would only confuse them if they ran in to
wake Tony up and found Steve there too.

Still, it gave him kind of a pang that he wouldn’t get to see them, first thing Christmas morning.
That had always been one of his favorite parts of the holiday, growing up.

“Getting up?” Tony mumbled, sounding confused and half asleep.

“Yes. Don’t wake up. You look very cozy.” Steve came around the bed, pulling the blankets up
around Tony so that he was completely covered. Impulsively, he kissed Tony on the forehead.
“Merry Christmas.”

“Give me a real kiss.”

“No, we both have morning breath,” he laughed. “Here-” He kissed the corner of Tony’s mouth.
“That’s as good as it gets. Go back to sleep.”

He crept up the back stairs and into his own room, careful not to make too much noise. His mom
would probably sleep another couple of hours.

It felt strange, sneaking around like this. He wasn’t ashamed of what they were doing, per se, but it
seemed like it was too good to be true and it made him reluctant to tell the others, his mom and his
friends- the babies especially- what was happening. He had the feeling, he reflected as he climbed
in his own bed, that this could all end very abruptly. And he didn’t want to fall the same way he
had before.

He sighed, closing his eyes. His own bed seemed cold after spending the night in Tony’s. He rolled
on his side. It was like he could feel ghost touches of Tony on him, the spot on his hip that Tony
liked to hold onto, hot breath on the back of his neck. Closing his eyes, he fell back asleep.

“Steve!”

“Mm?”

“Steve, wake up.”

“Morgan?” he murmured. Not opening his eyes. “Is that you?”

She tugged on his hand. “Come on! It’s Christmas! It’s time to wake up.”

He’d gotten warm again, somewhere along the way. He groaned, covering his head with the
blanket. “No, baby… come in with me. What time is it?”

“I’m four,” she said. “I don’t know what time it is. Peter’s getting Daddy and I said I’d get you and
we have to wake your mommy. Don’t you know anything? Wake up!” she chirped.

He rolled over, slipping out the bed regretfully. At least he’d left his sweats on from before. He
squinted at her. “Good morning, beautiful,” he said, feeling like he could have slept another two
hours happily. He glanced at the clock. Seven o’clock. He rubbed at his morning stubble. “Think
Santa came?” he asked, his hands on his hips.

“We checked! He ate the cookies too.” She stood on his feet, trying to pull him towards the door.

“What about the carrots?” he asked, thinking about how they’d almost forgotten the carrots the
night before. Steve had been the one to take a sizable bite out of the bunch of carrots. “Did the
reindeer eat any carrots?”

“Lots.”

He knocked lightly on the guestroom down the hall from him, putting his finger to his lips. She
trailed behind him, holding his hand. “Momma,” he called. “Ma, I’m coming in.”

She raised her head. He tilted his head at her. “Hey,” he said. “The babies are awake. Did you want
to sleep more?”

“No…” His mom had never been a true morning person. “Make me some coffee.”

“You’re as bad as Mr. Stark,” he said. He kissed her hand. “I’ll put some on now.”

“I’ll be down in a couple of minutes…”

“Did I say Merry Christmas already?” he asked, yawning as they walked down the stairs. “Merry
Christmas, baby. I’m glad we’re together.”

“I can help make coffee,” she told him.

“That’s good, I need someone to scoop for me…”

He found Mr. Stark already in the kitchen, Pete hovering at his feet. “Good morning,” he yawned.
He stopped to stare. “Are you making breakfast?”

“I make breakfast on Christmas,” Mr. Stark said promptly. “The Jarvises sleep in. We’re having
pancakes. And I’ve been informed that these two already know how. A certain someone taught
them to make pancakes.”

“Mm, they’re good at it.”

“I put a sausage casserole in already. Do you want to cut fruit?”

Steve had been wondering what to expect from today. He smiled now, pulling out strawberries and
raspberries, honeydew melon and kiwi. By the time his mom had come down, the coffee was
brewing and Mr. Stark had mixed together the pancakes with the kids.

“We never watched your favorite Christmas movie,” Mr. Stark reminded him. “The kids wanted to
watch it with you. Maybe we’ll do that after breakfast…”

Steve looked up. “Won’t the kids be impatient to open gifts?” he asked in an undertone.

Mr. Stark hummed. “One thing my wife really did a good job at was slowing things down so we
could enjoy them more. She was the one who insisted we have breakfast first. I try to keep her
pacing. Builds the anticipation.”

“Mommy made Christmas breakfast?” Morgan asked.

“That’s right,” he agreed, bending to look at her.. “We all slept in bed really late the last year,” he
added, his mind still clearly half in the past. “Which was kind of nice in its own way.” Steve could
hear the wistfulness in Mr. Stark’s voice. He poured mugs of coffee for his mom and for Tony. He
was surprised when the mechanic rubbed his hand. Probably appreciation for the coffee.

They ate in the living room, Morgan sitting in Steve’s lap. They watched Year without a Santa
Claus and the kids opened their stockings. Morgan, for all of her bounciness earlier, fell asleep on
Steve.

“Can you wait to open presents a little longer?” Mr. Stark asked, kissing Pete’s face.

“Yeah.” But they could see the way Pete drifted over to the tree. He’d been patient all morning.

“How about you open that one?” Mr. Stark said, drifting over to stand beside the five year old. He
pointed to a medium sized box. Pete glanced up at him and darted forward.

They all watched him pulling the paper open carefully, his eyes bright and interested. “Daddy, it’s
Legos.” Steve couldn’t handle Pete’s soft voice sometimes. He caught his mother’s eye and looked
down, the smile curving on his lips.

“It’s Legos,” Tony agreed. He pet Peter’s hair. “Do you want to start putting it together?” Pete
nodded. “Mrs. Rogers? You want to join us?”

“Yes,” she said decisively. “Don’t watch me get to the ground though-”

Morgan dozed for a solid hour, Steve slowly running his hand down her side and across her back,
caught up in her warmth and how peaceful she looked. He curled around her, watching the other
three assembling Pete’s Lego kit, which looked far too advanced for a preschooler. Pete was in his
element though; sitting in his mom’s lap, he was busy organizing the pieces, directing the two
adults to find the pieces he needed for each subsequent step.

Morgan woke up slowly, blinking at him. “Presents?”

“Presents,” he agreed. “We waited for you.”

They watched the kids dive under the tree. Pete brought Steve a present from ‘Santa’; opening it,
he found 3 new pairs of sweatpants. “Santa must have known I was approaching public
indecency,” he joked to his mom.

“I’d start by throwing out this pair,” she said, plucking his pant leg.

“Nooo, they’re comfy-”

They watched the kids make their way through their presents. Steve was surprised to find that he’d
gotten almost an equal amount of presents to the kids- new sketchbooks and a winter jacket, books
and a board game he’d never heard of.

“Steve, here’s our present,” Morgan hollered. She pushed a small square package in his lap. He
boosted the kids into his chair. “This is from both of you?” he asked. They nodded. “Oh, babies.”

They’d drawn a comic book about him, making him some kind of superhero. He could see Peter’s
careful printing and could distinguish Morgan’s drawings from Peter’s (there were more flowers in
those panels). He even thought some of the drawings looked like… “Did Daddy help you draw
this?”

“Uh huh. We gave you a shield because you keep everyone safe.” Peter pointed it out. They’d
drawn him with red, white, and blue shield.

“Did Daddy pick the colors?” he asked, flicking his eyes up to look at the mechanic. Mr. Stark was
grinning at him. He nodded.

“Mrs. Rogers tells me you were born on the 4th of July,” he murmured. “You really are our boy
next door.”

“Show him what you made!”

“Ah. Here’s a completely superfluous gift, Captain. But totally necessary.” Getting up, Mr. Stark
pulled a large, flat present that Steve hadn’t noticed from below the tree. He handed it over. It was
surprisingly heavy.

“What did you do?”

Tony just gestured. Steve handed his comic book to Peter, giving the mechanic another suspicious
look. He opened the present and out fell- a shield. The same shield they’d drawn in the book, but
made of a sturdy metal and proportionate to Steve. It had a magnetic strap on the inside of it.

Steve let out a breath. He belted out a laugh. “Tony, this is a functional shield!”
 Chapter 47

He was nervous about giving Tony his present now.

Pete examined his shield with great interest, Morgan drifted back to her Barbie playhouse, and he
pushed the present for Mr. Stark deeper into the chair he was sitting in.

“What are you hiding?” Tony asked cheerfully, pointing at him.

“Nothing, nothing!”

“Oh, Captain, are we going to play games with each other?” Mr. Stark’s eyes were alight with
interest.

“Come on, sweeties, let’s change into day clothes,” his mom said, giving him a little look. Steve
didn’t know how she always knew, but she did. The kids were loud as they thumped up the stairs,
racing each other.

Mr. Stark and Steve looked at each other. “Having a good day so far?” Mr. Stark asked. He got up,
flopping down next to Steve.

“Yeah. Yeah, the best. Listen,” he said, his mouth dry. “I got something for you. If you’re going to
open it, could you open it now? While everyone’s upstairs.”

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” Tony said, surprised. “I told you not to, Captain.”

“I know but then you literally redid a room in the house. And now this… Anyways, I wasn’t going
to not get you anything.” He fingered the box nervously. “It’s nothing special anyways.”

“Don’t give me that, everything you do is special.” Mr. Stark held out gimme hands.

Steve reluctantly handed it over. Mr. Stark tentatively opened one of the flaps of paper and then
flipped it around to work on the other end. “Tony, the paper’s not important,” Steve said quickly,
sitting down beside him. “You can rip it.”

“You’re impatient,” Mr. Stark chided him, bumping knees. “I’m giving this moment the gravitas
that it deserves…”

“No, you’re torturing me-”

Mr. Stark ripped the paper open, grinning at him now. “Your sketchbook?” he asked in surprise.

“An amalgamation of my sketchbook,” he said softly. “So you don’t have to look at all my first
attempts and the drawings that went bad. These were ones I knew were okay.”

He’d finalized a lot of his drawings, mixing them up in this new book and had added a description
of what the picture was, where it was taken, any details he could add. There was Morgan and Peter
playing at the splash pad at the end of the summer, one of their first little field trips he’d taken
them on. There they were apple picking. He’d printed out actual pictures when he could- them with
their pumpkins and the Halloween costumes. And among those drawings-

“Is that me?” Mr. Stark said, pausing at one drawing. “When I was a kid. How’d you know…”

“The Jarvises had pictures of you when you were the kids’ age. And they told me about what you
were like. You had this cat plushie, Jarvis said you loved it. Took it everywhere. Is that close to
what it looked like? He described it to me.”

“His name was Robin,” Mr. Stark said absently. “Steve, this could be a picture, itself. How do you
do this?”

He was quiet, making his way through the pictures. Steve’s skin itched; he couldn’t help but feel
like he should have gone with something less personal. This sketchbook basically gave away his
interest in the other man- perhaps seeming like an obsessiveness? And was that how he wanted to
come across to the man he was so in love with?

“This is my old tree house,” Mr. Stark said in surprise, holding up one sketch.

“Yes. Jarvis told me about it. He said he used to bring you brownies and lemonade?”

“He helped me build it. But I didn’t think there were any pictures of it…”

“Uh, well, there aren’t. A lot of these, he told me about them and we pulled up similar plans, kind
of messed around until it looked the way he remembered it…” Steve rubbed the back of his neck,
feeling self conscious. He sat forward, on the edge of his seat. “I know it’s strange. But he says you
loved it. And I was thinking… There were all these things with my dad. We never took photos of
them. And I wished there was something more tangible.”

He looked up at Mr. Stark’s face, prepared to apologize, but the other man didn’t look angry. If
anything, he was looking at Steve with an expression Steve had never seen before. He couldn’t
guess what it meant. “This okay?” he asked weakly.

They could hear the kids running in the hall, his mother’s voice. “I want to look at it more later,”
Mr. Stark said, putting it on the table beside him. “Together. Can I hold you now?”

“The kids would see,” Steve whispered. “What if we gave them the wrong idea?”

“What if we gave them the right idea?” Mr. Stark challenged. “What idea would it give them to see
us together?”

Steve faltered. “That you loved me…”

Mr. Stark held out his hands. “Cap, I do love you,” he said. “And I love my present. Please?”

He hesitated. He knew logically that Tony didn’t lie, didn’t pretend. He wasn’t trying to trick
Steve. And he’d been told, by Natasha, by the Jarvises, even by Happy, that the mechanic would
like his present. So he must have. He bit his tongue. “Sorry. I make a big deal of everything,” he
said, slipping one arm around Tony’s back. “I- sorry-”

“I’m going to love you enough that all your apologies retreat,” Mr. Stark told him. “Let me move
over a little, I’m going to put my leg here. You come closer.” He tugged on Steve with surprising
strength, rearranging them on the couch so that Steve was somehow situated between the
mechanic’s legs, leaning against Mr. Stark’s chest.

Mr. Stark wrapped his arms around Steve’s middle, pressing his face into the side of Steve’s face.
“This okay?” he queried.

“Yes,” Steve managed. His heart was pounding. His mom would come down and see them, the
kids would see, and he-
“I can hear your thoughts racing,” Tony said quietly. “Your heartbeat. I can let you go, if you’d
like that better-”

“I don’t want you to let go,” he whispered. “I’m just afraid.”

“Of what?”

“Everything,” he said with a laugh. “What if I’m too much?”

Tony kissed his neck, firm and still somehow sweet. He pressed another kiss to the juncture of his
neck and shoulders and then dipped his head, leaning on Steve’s shoulder. “You’re what I want,”
he said simply. “You, too much? I want all of you.”

Steve found Tony’s hands with his own. He covered them, sighing when their fingers moved to
interlock with each other. He had a momentary anxious thought- what if the kids hated him for
trying to replace their mom?- but he squashed the thought down with some effort. “You never got
that kiss you wanted,” he reminded the other man.

Mr. Stark was grinning. “Is that still on the table?” He nodded. “Okay, then.”

Leaning back, he brushed his nose past Tony’s lips, catching his jaw in tiny, possessive kisses. He
let out a soft moan, feeling the mechanic’s arms supporting him, holding him up so that he didn’t
fall off the couch even as he shifted. Twisting, he straddled the mechanic, controlling the kiss. He
felt-

“Gross!”

They broke off their kiss, Steve turning red, Mr. Stark looking thoroughly pleased. “You’re gross,”
the mechanic told her, sticking his tongue out. “Oh, god,” Steve said, leaning into his chest.

“Come on, kids, lunchtime,” his mom said, hustling them out of the room. “Play nice, boys-”

“Mom!”

She was laughing at him. He leaned back on his haunches, wondering how they would explain this
to the kids, how he would ever look his mom in the eye again, how- Mr. Stark sat up. “Merry
Christmas, Captain!” he said cheerfully, throwing his arms around Steve’s shoulders. “You’re my
favorite gift. Don’t tell the others- will make them jealous.” And he licked the side of Steve’s face,
laughing and jumping up when he reacted, running up the stairs, Steve giving him chase.

“Get dressed, Cap,” he said, pausing at the top of the stairs. He pecked Steve on the cheek. “I love
you, honey. Really.”
 Chapter 48

“Morgan, close your eyes.”

“Why just me?”

“Cause we’re going into the men’s changing room,” he said. “There might be naked men in here,”
he whispered, hoisting her onto his hip.

She giggled at that. “But I want to see.”

He shook his head. “They’re strangers. I don’t want you looking.”

“But Pete gets to see?”

He held out a hand, gesturing Pete to come over as well. “Nope, you’re right. The only naked man
you should be seeing is maybe Daddy. Both of you, close your eyes. I can’t believe they don’t have
a family changing room,” he added to Mr. Stark as the man came over.

He took the bags. “The women's room doubles as the family changing room. Maybe they don’t
think dads bring their kids to these things?”

“Sexist,” Steve muttered. “Close those eyes. Go first, Tony.”

“Can I keep my eyes open?” the mechanic asked. Steve gave him a look he hoped sizzled. Tony did
his best to look serious. They pushed into the men’s room. “Nobody in here,” Tony said cheerfully.
“Maybe dads really don’t bring their children to these things.”

“Can we open our eyes then?”

“Yes,” he said reluctantly. He herded them into the handicap accessible bathroom stall. “From now
on, we’re putting your bathing suits on under your clothes.”

“You would think there would be more privacy for how much this place charges,” Mr. Stark said
thoughtfully, from his place wedged between the wall and the toilet. “Are we all changing in
here?”

Steve looked up, eyes wide. “Just the kids then,” Mr. Stark said cheerfully. “We can take turns,”
he added, indicating himself and Steve.

Steve stepped out of the stall so the three Starks could change. He could hear Morgan giggling and
Tony telling her some joke. They rinsed in one of the showers while Steve scrambled into his
swimsuit. Mr. Stark raised an eyebrow when he came out, shirtless, but thankfully didn’t say much.
“I’m looking, respectfully,” he said.

“Of course you are,” Steve said, stashing their bags in a locker. He was trying very hard not to look
at Tony at all. He’d thought the sight of him taking his shirt off last month had been a lot. This…
this was something different. He took a deep breath. ‘Children, you’re about to be surrounded by
children,’ he chanted in his head.

“Your stomach’s really hard,” Morgan observed, pressing her palm to it. “Like rocks.” Pete pushed
on his abs as well.

“They’re looking less respectfully,” Tony joked. “Kids, Steve might not want to be touched there.”
“Why not?”

He took her hand. “That’s Steve’s body. He gets to say who touches him. So he feels safe.”

“But we hug you a lot,” Pete told Steve. “We have to ask?” He looked almost tearful. Steve was
surprised at how upset he seemed. The ex-Marine knelt down. “I love your hugs and kisses. You
don’t have to ask about those. Daddy’s just saying…” He faltered. “Nobody gets to touch your
body without permission.”

“Okay,” Pete agreed. He touched Steve’s cheek softly. “But I love you.”

“Hey, listen, you don’t have to worry about stuff like this right now. Maybe we can talk about it
more some other time? I want you to like your swim lessons.”

Leaving the locker rooms, they joined the rest of the little swim class at the far end of the
gymnasium. The kids pushed into the little knot of other toddlers, Morgan dragging Peter forward.
Steve and Tony hung back. All the other adults were, somewhat predictably, women. “Sorry,”
Tony said. “I was trying to help.”

“It’s a really important thing for them to know,” Steve said. “I just, maybe I’m not the right one to
tell them things like that? What do I know?”

Tony gave him a look that said clearly what he was thinking. “It’s a conversation we can pursue
together. Or I can let you off the hook if you aren’t comfortable. But I value what you have to say.”

Steve shuffled his feet. He was aware that some of the moms were looking at them, and wasn’t
comfortable with the look some of the women were giving them. “Why aren’t there more fathers at
these? What is this teaching their kids?”

Tony took his hand, squeezing it. “It was like this the last time I did this kind of thing.”

“It sucks,” he said, his mouth flat. He tried to bring himself back from what was becoming a bad
mood. “Do you want Pete or Morgan?”

Tony tilted his head. “Morgan.”

Pete was back. “Daddy, I don’t want to do this,” he said, trying to climb into Tony’s arms.

They both bent down, surprised. “What’s the matter, Pete? You’ve done this before,” Tony said,
brushing his bangs out of his eyes. “You’re going to have those floaties on,” he added, pointing at
the floatation devices hung up on the wall. “They keep you from going under.”

“But the pool’s really big,” Peter whispered, tugging nervously on his swimsuit.

Steve glanced up to see where Morgan was. She was talking excitedly with two other little girls,
one older than her, the other younger. Sisters, it looked like. “Pete, my love,” he said. “I’m going
to be with you the whole time. That’s why Daddy and I both came. I won’t let anything happen to
my best guy. I’ll keep you safe.”

Tony pecked him on the cheek. “Promise it’ll be fun. You’ll see.”

The water was cold when Steve got in. He shivered, making a face at Tony. ‘Best behavior,’ he
mouthed at him, cause Tony had the look of someone who was considering splashing him. He
shook his head at the man. The mechanic deflated just slightly. He drifted closer to Steve. “For
what it’s worth, the water’s so cold my nipples could cut glass.”
“Jesus, Tony,” he whispered back. He submerged himself, letting his body get used to the
temperature.

The swim instructor lined them up by the edge of the pool, calling on the kids to jump into the pool
next to their adjacent parents. Morgan jumped right in, rising excitedly to the surface and bobbing
there, grinning at Tony. Pete refused. “You’re okay, big guy,” Steve said, drifting closer to the
edge.

“He has to jump in,” the instructor said. She was young, looked barely out of her teens.

“How about he sits down on the edge today?” Steve said, patting the concrete. “I’ll help him in.”

She shrugged. “Eventually he needs to jump.”

“Doesn’t need to be today. Come on, bear, sit on the edge. Put your feet in. That’s good.” He put
his hands on Peter’s sides, his fingers fanning nearly the entirety of his back. “I’m going to lift you
in now. Okay?”

“Okay,” Peter croaked.

“Hey,” Steve said, giving him a big smile once he was in. He circled Pete protectively with his
arms. “Look at you, you’re floating. Let’s go near Daddy and Morgan- okay?”

Tony drifted closer just as Steve was pulling Pete out, away from the edge. Their arms brushed
against each other. “So brave, baby,” Tony praised. “Jumping’s the scariest part.”

For Peter’s sake, Steve hoped so. He felt a little guilty. This had been his idea. Tony flashed him a
reassuring smile. He must not look very happy. There was a definitive split in the family between
who was having fun and who wasn’t. Steve hugged Peter to him, trying to pay attention to the
swim instructor.

“It’ll get better,” Tony promised, now reassuring Steve apparently. He kissed Steve’s shoulder.
“This was a good idea.”

“Sure…”
 Chapter 49

“Where’s my family?”

Steve could just barely hear Tony’s voice from where they were sitting. He leaned towards the
door. “Up here, Tony!” he yelled.

“Daddy’s here?”

“Daddy’s here,” he agreed.

“Is he going to paint with us?” Morgan asked. She’d scooted right up to Steve’s side, leaning
against him like he was a couch. It only really worked because he was right handed and she was
left handed.

“We’ll ask him. He might be tired.”

There was a rap on the door. “Ah, everyone’s using the art room,” Tony said, leaning on the door
frame. He smiled at them. “Painting?”

“Steve says it’s okay as long as he’s with us,” Pete said.

Morgan was getting up. “Daddy, come see-” She left a trail of handprints on the mechanic’s pants
in purple paint. Steve winced. Tony noticed his expression and waved it off. At least this wasn’t
one of his fancy suits. Still…

“What are you painting, Mo?”

“It’s a witch riding a moose-”

“What?” Mr. Stark mumbled under his breath. “Oh my god, it is. What about you, Pete?”

Peter had been off in his own world and Steve had let him go wild, figuring there was no reason to
interrupt him when he was being quiet. He looked up at them. “I’m drawing you and Steve,” he
said. “That’s Steve-”

“Oh, like we drew him in your comics,” Tony observed. “And that’s me? Am I a robot?”

“That’s your superhero suit.”

Mr. Stark laid down on the floor beside Peter, mindful to stay on the tarp. “So Steve and I fight
crime? What’s that?” He pointed at something blue in the middle of the yellow and red suit.

Peter pointed at the key that was hanging in the doorknob. Now that Steve was looking at the
painting, he realized Pete had tried to copy the inner design of the key with a pen before painting
over it with a bright blue. “It’s your power source,” he said.

“Does Steve a power source?”

“No, Steve’s just really strong.”

“Wow,” Mr. Stark said. Only Steve detected the sarcasm in his voice. He grinned at the mechanic.
Tony stuck his tongue out at Steve.
Morgan tugged on Steve’s sleeve, catching his attention. “The moose’s name is Henry.”

“And Henry’s friends with the witch?” She nodded. “We’re going to have to hang your paintings
up when they’re dry. Speaking of which… Daddy put a drying rack in here. So I’m going to take
your paintings, if you’re all done. We’ll let them dry tonight and we’ll check on them tomorrow.”

He took their painting ‘smocks’ off (just his old t-shirts that were already covered in paint) and
helped them to their feet. “I’ll take care of the tarps later,” he promised the mechanic.

“Your room, your rules.” Mr. Stark yawned. “Dinner’s ready, babies. Can I trust you to go down
the stairs carefully?” They nodded together. “Alright. Hold onto the railings. No racing. We’ll be
down in a minute.”

“Is everything okay?” Steve asked, once the kids were down a flight. He could hear them talking.
He gestured to Tony. “You look… a little frustrated.”

Tony smoothed down his shirt. “Obie’s pissed that I made Pepper CEO. And about my press
conference, alerting the public about the discontinuation of arms production. He’s gone to the
board.”

Steve paused in the act of locking the door. “He what?”

“I’m not worried about it,” Tony said casually. “It’s a headache, that’s all. Obie doesn’t produce
tech for Stark Industries. I do. And it’s my company. He’s just got a percentage of the controlling
interest. Not the majority by any stretch of the imagination.”

He took the key to the art room from Steve, holding it up. “See the blue design?” he asked. Steve
nodded. Tony handed over the key. “It’s shaped like an arc reactor.”

“What’s an arc reactor?” Steve said, interested.

“Energy source. My dad built one in the 70s. It’s huge. Powers the whole Stark Industries tower,
but otherwise it’s largely for show at this point. Not feasible to put something the size of an
elephant into buildings.”

“Can’t you make it smaller?” Steve suggested stupidly.

Tony grinned at him. He tangled his fingers with Steve’s. “That’s my guy,” he said, his voice low
and affectionate. “Yes, you can make it smaller. Or- I can. I just finished. Look-” And from his
breast pocket, he took out something that did look very much like the design on the key. “I was
telling Pete about it at bedtime last night. He understood more than I gave him credit for.” He put
the miniaturized arc reactor in Steve’s hand. Steve could feel it practically pulsing with energy.

“It’s an energy source?” Steve asked. Tony nodded.

“Know why the shift away from arms production?” he said.

Steve was fascinated by the tech. “You said it was because of your legacy. What you leave behind
for the babies.”

“That’s the reaction part of the equation,” Tony agreed. “What I leave behind. You, sir, you’re a
catalyst. Without you, there’s no change.” He held up his hand when Steve tried to give him the
reactor back. “It’s for you. Silly little nightlight, perhaps. Let it be a reminder that we lingered in
the darkness until you came in with your light.”
And he kissed Steve’s cheek. “I love you, Captain.”

He was turning away before Steve’s brain caught up with him. He snagged Tony by the wrist,
pulling on him, turning him around. He stashed the reactor in his pocket. “My Tony,” he said,
kissing him on the lips. “My gorgeous, lovely Tony.”

Tony was grinning. “You could distract me tonight, if you wanted to, Captain,” he murmured
against Steve’s lips. “I’ll follow your lead.”

“You always do,” Steve said fondly. “Do you get tired of that?”

“Mm, I really trust your leadership. No wonder they made you a captain.”

Steve felt like his heart was glowing like an arc reactor himself. “Dinner’s getting cold. Let me
change out of these clothes. You go down like this.”

“On your order, sir.” Tony was laughing as he jogged down the stairs.
 Chapter 50

“Steve?”

He’d been just drifting off to sleep. Blinking in the sudden bright light slicing in from the hall, he
raised his head off his pillow with a groan. “Peter…?”

“Steve, my tummy hurts.”

He had to give his head a couple of good shakes to wake himself up. “Tummy hurts?” he repeated,
sliding out of bed. He picked Pete up. “Oh, buddy,” he said, yawning into Pete’s neck. He pecked
him on the nose. “You’re burning up.”

“All sweaty,” Pete agreed. “It’s hot.”

“You have a fever,” Steve told him, unzipping his footsie pajamas. “Does Daddy know you’re
sick?”

“Daddy’s in lab. Not supposed to go in. Not safe.”

He hummed. “Good listening,” he said. “You got me. That’s good thinking.” He kissed Pete’s
flushed cheek. “Let’s go see Daddy and then we’ll put some medicine in you.”

The lights flicked on as he passed down the hall, Steve shivering a little in the cold- Pete might
have a fever but he did not and he hadn’t thought to get dressed. Grabbing the thermometer as they
passed through the kitchen, he instructed Pete to stick it under his tongue. He passed through the
dining room and the long hallway, pushing his way into the lab.

“Friday, turn the music off,” he called. Pete put his hands on his ears, the thermometer sticking
haphazardly out. The music cut out right away.

“Captain, you rang?” Tony turned around. “Oh,” he said, seeing them in the doorway. He got up
rapidly. “Is something wrong?”

“He’s got…” Steve took the thermometer out of Pete’s mouth, squinting at it. “A fever of 100.1. I
was going to give him some medicine.”

“Oh, buddy,” Tony said, cupping his face. “You’re really warm, huh? Here-” He slid Pete’s arms
out of the pajamas. Peter looked hot and clammy. When he snuck his thumb in his mouth, they let
him. “You got Steve?” Pete nodded, leaning heavily on the blond. “That’s good,” Tony sighed.

He led them back towards the kitchen, sticking the thermometer absentmindedly in his pocket.
Steve climbed onto the counter, settling Pete in his lap. They watched Tony putter around the
room, reading the back of medicine bottles. Steve tugged the pjs the rest of the way off and set
them beside him; there was no reason for him to be more uncomfortable than he already was.

“Alright, big guy, let’s get this down in one go, huh?” Tony said, holding up a little cup full of
medicine.

“Mmmm mmm.” Peter shook his head, twisting in Steve’s lap.

“It’ll make you feel better,” Steve said, brushing his fingers through Pete’s sweaty hair.

“Don’t want it, Daddy.”

“I know, but bud, you’re not feeling well. Drink this and I’ll get you some juice. Kay?”

Pete was squirming in his lap. Steve stood him up so that he was leaning on Steve’s chest, rocking
him gently. He was still half asleep himself. “Please, buddy? Daddy and I don’t like seeing you
like this.”

“Here, you take a sip, then I’ll take a sip. How about that?” Tony coaxed. He leaned on the
counter, bracketing Steve’s knees. Peter took the cup reluctantly, sipping half of it. Tony pretended
to take a sip and handed it back. Pete drank down the rest, shuddering and whining. “Good job.
Let’s see. Juice.” Tony yawned.

The mechanic only seemed to really realize what Steve was wearing when he turned back around.
Steve hadn’t expected the mechanic to blush so profusely; as it was, he grabbed the little glass of
juice from his hand before Tony dropped it. Now they all looked like they had a fever. Steve could
safely say that Tony had never caught him in his boxer briefs before this moment. If he hadn’t been
so worried about Pete, he’d have been amused at the effect on the man.

“Cookie?”

“No cookie,” he said firmly. It was after midnight, after all. “Come on, I’ll rinse you off. You’re
wet anyways,” he said, feeling the training undies. “Come on, Daddy. Keeping us company?”

“Yuh,” Tony said, gesturing to Steve to go up the stairs first. Steve scoffed at him but he went,
hearing the mechanic start up after him, a good five feet behind. He made his way up the stairs
with as much dignity as he could muster, tearing the strips at the sides of the underwear so that he
could toss the soiled underwear away as they went into the bathroom.

Tony snapped himself out of his introspection in time to help Steve bathe the five year old, Peter’s
eyes closing as the medicine and the lukewarm water brought his temperature down to something
manageable.

“Go to sleep, pal. Daddy and I have you.”

They plucked him from the water when he was completely conked out, asleep on Steve’s arm.
“What do you think the odds are that we can keep Morgan from getting sick?” Tony asked,
toweling him off carefully.

“Slim to none.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking,” Tony sighed. “At least you’re off the next two days. I’d run for
the hills, big guy.”

Steve blinked. He’d forgotten that it was the weekend tomorrow, that he had time off. “I didn’t
have anything necessarily planned. I could be here.” He held Peter up so that Tony could slip a
new pair of Goodnights on him. They put him in a t-shirt, tucking him back in. “But you deserve
your time off,” Tony said.

“How hard can we say I really work?” Steve pointed out flippantly. “It doesn’t feel like hard
work.”

“What does it feel like, Captain?”

‘All my dreams come true,’ he said silently. Aloud- “I spend my days playing with Barbies and
train sets and reading all my favorite childhood books and in return I get paid with actual money
AND all the toddler snuggles I could ever ask for, so no, I don’t feel like I’m putting myself out
too much, sticking around to take care of my favorite little boy.”

Tony was staring at him, his gaze making Steve self-conscious despite the fact that Tony’s eyes
were now fixed on his face and nowhere else. “Come on,” the mechanic said abruptly. “I’ll walk
you back to your room. You deserve a good night’s sleep before all hell breaks loose.”

“You’re so dramatic.” He smacked Tony on the ass. “You first. Get-”

“Holy shit,” the mechanic said hoarsely.

“Get going, soldier.”

“Don’t rush me, I’m memorializing this moment for the rest of my life,” the mechanic said,
pausing three steps up. “Sorry you’re never off the clock, Steve. Pete could have come down to
me.”

“He was trying to follow your safety rules,” Steve murmured, starting up after him. Since Tony
had clearly been ogling him, he felt no compunction not to stare as the other man walked ahead of
him. Who knew the stairs were the sexiest part of the house?

“You really came running though,” Tony said cheekily, walking backwards down the hall,
stopping in Steve’s doorway. His eyes darted down suggestively.

Steve’s hands found his hips, pushing him into the room. “Now I’m beginning to feel underdressed
though,” he said sleepily, raising his eyebrows slowly, barely suppressing a smile. His thumbs
flicked under Tony’s shirt. He tilted his head.

“Seems unfair,” Tony agreed, his voice hoarse. “Go ahead.” Steve pulled the shirt up and over in
one fluid motion. He gave up on not staring. Staring was his thing now. “There are some scars,”
the mechanic said, tapping his chest absently.

He was tired and he wanted this. What a weird mix. He pushed Tony up and onto the bed. “Kiss
me goodnight?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah. Jesus, you’re unpredictable-”

He straddled the other man, cutting him off by kissing him and god, he’d missed moments like
this- he could feel Tony below him: the way he sucked in his stomach when Steve did something
unexpected, the way he was trying not to thrust his hips upward and was only partially able to
control himself, the way his hands exploring his stomach and back-

Suddenly he wanted to tease the other man. Moderating their french kiss, he opted for something
more chaste. Tony swallowed hard, his brown eyes looking reproachfully up at him. Steve
laughed. Dipping his head down, he kissed Tony’s neck, lips forming around the man’s Adam's
apple. “Goodnight, Tony.”

The man’s eyes were startled and then there was a flash of mirth. “You’re a menace,” he said,
giving Steve’s sides one more rub. “I’m your menace,” Steve said, rolling off of him. “Tuck me
in?”

“Yeah, yeah.” But Tony’s eyes were crinkled. “Someday I’ll get you for this,” he promised,
watching Steve crawl back up towards his pillow. He inhaled sharply when Steve lazily palmed
him, feeling bold. “Curious? Yeah, you did have quite the effect on me.”

“Good.” Steve’s smile was crooked. “Should go to bed. We’re going to need our sleep for
tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I’m just going to finish up and go to bed,” Tony said drily, pulling the blankets over him.
He snorted when Steve held his arms up but obliged him by giving him a hug, even kissing him on
the forehead.

“Mad at me?”

“Never, Steve. You remain my beautiful, lovely, evil captain.” He pecked him on the lips. “But I
might rewrite my will in case the anticipation kills me.”

Steve full body laughed at that. “Leave the shirt,” he called sleepily. “Mine now.”

“You’re ridiculous. I love you.” Tony closed the door behind him. Steve could hear him head
down the stairs. Moments later, the lights turned off on their own, the sliver under his door
winking out of existence. “Love you too,” Steve whispered, turning on his side. He drifted off to
sleep.
 Chapter 51

“Momma,” he said, Morgan sitting on his arm. “You’re the best.”

“We’re going to have so much fun,” she said, ushering him in. “Come here, precious.”

He pushed into the kitchen, sliding Morgan to the floor. He took her coat off, rubbing her arms
briskly. His mother fussed over her as well, asking him questions and working on breakfast. Steve
yawned. Today had already been long and it had just begun.

“Is Peter going to be okay?” Morgan asked. Steve remembered how she got when Tony had been
sick last. He knelt down in front of her, taking her hands. “Pete’s going to be fine,” he told her.
“Remember when Daddy got his cold earlier, in the fall? It took a week, but he got better and now
he’s back to his usual self.”

“Is Peter going to be sick for a whole week?” she asked, her voice strangely solemn.

“I don’t think so,” he said. “But you’re going to stay here with my momma so that you don’t get it
as well. Okay? Daddy and I are going to miss you. But you’ll have fun.”

She glanced up at his mother. “Can we watch Pocahontas?”

“We’ll even sing all the songs,” she promised. “I brought some of Steve’s old toys up from the
basement.”

“From when he was a baby?”

“Yes. Do you want to see a picture of baby Steve?”

“Uh huh.”

Steve figured she would be fine. He gave her a half a dozen kisses, scoffed at the picture of
himself, and hugged his mom. “Thanks, Ma. I love you. You’re so wonderful.” Gathering Morgan
in a hug, he murmured, “Love you, baby girl,” and then he was out.

He stopped by the store, picked up more medicine and some popsicles, and found Pete cuddling
with Tony on the couch when he got back. “Oh, buddy,” he said, carding his fingers through
sweaty hair. “Is that first dose making any effect?”

Tony nodded behind Pete’s back. ‘He’s clingy,’ he mouthed at Steve. “Looks like Steve got you
popsicles. Want one?” he asked. Pete nodded, looking miserable. “Grape?” Pete nodded again.

“You’re so quiet like this,” Steve said, half to himself. “Here, buddy. Sorry you still feel sick.”

Tony handed the toddler over, leaving Pete sprawled across Steve’s lap while he put the rest of the
groceries away. Steve hoisted him up, talking to him in gentle tones while the popsicle dripped all
over him. He hoped it was helping. Seeing one of the babies sick for the first time was doing
something awful to Steve’s heart. Logically, he knew this was a simple bug. Emotionally,
however…

“You never ate breakfast,” Tony pointed out, coming back into the room. He sat on the coffee
table.

“Neither did you,” Steve commented, rocking Peter. He kissed him on the forehead absently.
Waking up to find that Peter was even worse than he’d been last night had been a nasty shock.
Steve had been all for bringing Pete to the emergency room that moment, but Tony had called their
pediatrician and apparently, this was just a very bad common cold. And Peter was miserable.

Steve would have liked to explain to the pediatrician that this was his happy go lucky little boy and
that there was nothing common about him. Tony had just pet his hair absently and asked him to
bring Morgan to his mom’s.

Tony hummed, bringing Steve back to the present moment with a bump. “Best practice in these
cases is to take everything in shifts. Let me bring Pete in the shower with me. You go eat
breakfast. Make something for me as well. Okay?”

He took the popsicle stick Pete was now clinging to. “Yeah, okay,” he agreed reluctantly.

Tony’s smile was understanding. “I’ll have him back to you before you notice he’s gone.”

“That makes no sense, whatsoever.”

“Mm, love never does. Come on, sticky boy. Steve doesn’t want you far out of his sight.” He stole
Peter back. Tony paused on the stairs. “Of course, you could come in with us, if you wanted,
Captain.”

Steve’s stomach dropped like six inches. He wasn’t sure if Tony was teasing him, even now. He
shook his head frantically, blushing profusely. “No, I don’t think I could,” he stammered.

Tony blew him a kiss. “Only teasing you, honey. But I’m not shy. So you know.”

‘This must be revenge for last night,’ Steve thought to himself, buttering some toast a couple of
minutes later. Had Tony really wanted him to join them? In front of Peter, it didn’t even feel
sexual. It felt intimate. Steve… Steve crammed toast in his mouth. He could hear the water running
above his head. He was going to have to pick apart this moment with Natasha later.

Reluctantly, really only because Tony had asked him to, he made scrambled eggs and plated this up
with some fruit. He ate his helping over the sink, but brought the plate up with him when the water
shut off.

He knocked on Tony’s door even though it was open. “Come on in, Captain- I’m decent.” He
pushed into the room. “Decent-ish,” Tony amended. He had a towel wrapped around his waist.
Pete was on his hip. He looked marginally better now. The water seemed to have helped.

Steve set the plate down with a rush. “Give me,” he begged, reaching out for him.

“Told you that Steve missed you.” Tony handed Pete over with a kiss, wandering back into the
bathroom. Pete coughed directly into his mouth. Steve tried not to hold that against him.

“I’ll dry you off. Look at my poor baby,” Steve whispered. Pete coughed weakly as Steve toweled
him off as gently as he could. “My little guy…”

“Oh, puppy, we’re going to spoil you this weekend,” Tony said, treading back to Steve’s side and
leaning over the bed to give Peter another cheek kiss. He gave Steve’s lower back a brisk rub.
“You’re going to be okay. We’re both here.”

“Sleepy…”

“I know, bud. Let’s get you situated.” Tony worked the training underwear up his legs. Steve lifted
him.

“Want me to read to you?” Peter nodded slowly, his eyes drifting up to Steve’s face. “Kay. Let me
go get your favorites. Then maybe we’ll all take a nap.” He looked up at Tony who was pulling a
pair of sweats over his boxers. “You have to eat,” he said, pointing at the plate.

“Will do, mon capitan.”

Steve darted down the hall to Pete’s room, grabbing the books he knew Peter loved best, as well as
his stuffed cat and the baby blanket that his mom had knitted. Tony seemed to grin at him when he
came back, laden down with comfort items; he’d been standing by the window, rocking Pete
slowly. “The first time they get sick is always the worst to witness,” he advised the soldier.

“Does it ever get better?” Steve asked incredulously.

“Mm, not really. Look, Pete, Steve found your lovie.”

“My blankie…”

“That’s right. Here- Daddy’s going to put you right in the middle of the bed where you belong and
then Steve and me, we’re going to stay with you the whole time. And you’ll feel better after you
sleep- everyone always does.”

“My cold will be gone?”

“Maybe not gone completely, but better.” Steve felt like Tony might be coaching him through this
just as much as he was for Peter. He didn’t know how the mechanic managed to remain so calm
during all of this. Not being able to help Pete was squeezing painfully on his heart. “Okay, Pete.
You’ve got your blankie. You’ve got your cat. Steve’s right here- go ahead, climb on- and I’m right
here too.”

“The eggs must be cold by now,” Steve said, climbing onto the bed.

“I love cold scrambled eggs,” Tony said cheerfully.

“Which book first, baby bear?” Steve spread them out in front of them, rubbing Pete’s side slowly.
Pete pointed to the Berenstain Bears book. “Oh, good choice. Okay, listen…”
 Chapter 52

Peter got better day by day, Sunday being the worst day by far. Steve had never seen him so whiny
or clingy; he attached himself to one of them at all times and whined. Steve’s nerves certainly felt
frayed by the end of the weekend.

They kept him home from school on Monday and felt safe to bring Morgan home by Tuesday.
She’d had so much fun being spoiled by his mother, Steve hadn’t been sure she would come back
with him when he’d come for her.

Pete had made a big improvement, but still insisted on sleeping in Tony’s bed, with Steve on one
side and Tony on the other. This arrangement was okay until Morgan came home; then she wanted
to join them.

“I don’t want you getting sick, my love,” Tony said, rather gently.

“But I want to sleep in your bed too.”

“What if…” Steve gestured towards himself, unsure.

Tony seemed to understand what he meant. “How about you stay with Steve? And then when
Peter’s 1000% better, we’ll do a big sleepover. All of us.”

Her lip jutted out but she seemed to consider it. “Okay…”

“Are you sure this is okay?” Steve whispered after the kids had drifted off towards the playroom.
“I’m a guy.”

“Yeah, uh, me too, Captain.” Tony gave him a mischievous grin. “The enormous muscles kind of
gave it away. Other things too.” He sobered just slightly. “Don’t you think I trust you with the
kids? There’s few people I trust like I trust you.”

He felt his shoulders relax. “I don’t want anyone to get hurt. I would never-” He cut himself off,
feeling confused. He didn’t know why he was explaining himself. Suddenly, he felt very
wrongfooted.

“I know, Cap.”

He gestured towards his throat. “Sometimes I just feel like I’m choking on my anxiety. I don’t
want to become the same as-.”

“Oh, you could never.” Tony cupped the back of his neck. “Come here-” He pulled him closer.
“Tell me when you’re feeling anxious like that. We’ll work on it together.”

“It’s stupid-”

“No. You’re just retraining your brain.” Tony kissed his temple. “Sometimes you need some
outside perspective. That’s where I come in.”

“I’m afraid… you’ll think I’m bad. Cause I feel…” He gestured vaguely. “Wrong.”

Tony cupped his face. “It’s time you start trusting yourself again, Captain. I trust you. You trust
me. And personally, I’m looking forward to having my whole family in my bed. I haven’t had that
in a long time.”
“We haven’t ever gotten as much sleep as we have this week,” Steve said ruefully. “Both of us, in
bed at 8:30.”

“Let’s make a plan, Captain,” Tony said, leaning in conspiratorially. “Both the kids in bed and
asleep- we meet up at eleven. I had Jarvis get us another cheesecake- We’ll talk about anything but
the kids. And I mean anything.”

Steve felt himself smiling. “Deal.”

“Shake on it-”

They did at Tony’s insistence.

Steve went to find Morgan that night, already dressed in his best pair of sweatpants and one of his
old Marine t-shirts. “Ready, beautiful girl?” he asked, offering her his hand. She giggled at him, but
accepted it.

He led her up the stairs. “Did you have fun at my mom’s house?” he asked, folding the blankets
back. She nodded vigorously. He lifted her up and onto the bed, hugging her as she answered, “Uh
huh. We made cookies and sang princess songs and she showed me pictures of you and then I
painted her nails…”

“You were busy,” he said sleepily, covering her with the blankets and turning off the lights one by
one until there was only the bedside lamp left. “Daddy and I missed you.”

“How much?”

“So, so much. The house is quiet without you in it.”

“Do you think Daddy loves Peter more than me?” she asked.

It was so unexpected he sat down on the bed with a bump. “No, baby. I think he loves you both in
different ways. Do you feel like Daddy doesn’t love you?”

“No,” she said, and he relaxed. “But he sits next to Peter at breakfast.” She yawned. “And he’s
maybe going to build a robot with Peter. Peter says.”

“Do you want to build a robot?” Steve crawled under the covers. She considered it. Rolling over,
she propped herself on Steve’s chest, looking him in the eye. So much more direct than her brother,
always. “No. But I want something special with Daddy too. Like Peter. But I don’t care about
robots. They’re boring.”

“You should tell him these things,” he whispered, stroking her hair. “Daddy, not Peter. Lay on your
back-” He played with her hands.

“Are you going to live with us forever?” she asked next.

“You have a lot of questions tonight.” Peter had asked something similar. He couldn’t remember
what he’d said to Peter- it had worked at the time, but things were different now. He rolled onto his
side so they were nose to nose. “I don’t know the answer to that. Could I ask you a question?”

She was pleased, he could tell. She liked when he wanted her opinion- and she had such strong
opinions. “Yesh,” she agreed through another yawn.

“Do you think I’d be a good daddy some day? Like your daddy?”
“You’re different from Daddy,” she said sleepily.

“Oh yeah?”

“You’re like a mommy,” she declared. He forced himself not to giggle at that. Instead he quirked
an eyebrow, prompting her for more information. “My friend says her mommy sings her songs and
plays dolls with her and helps her get dressed. And that’s what you do!”

He didn’t know what to do with all this information but he found it amusing at least. Personally, he
didn’t know if he’d ever tell another living soul that he was ‘mommy-material’ but it was oddly
flattering. “So I’m your mommy?” he asked.

“No…”

“Would you like it if I lived with you forever?” he asked, propping his head on his hand.

“Uh huh.” She scooted up on her pillow. “When you’re old, I’ll come back and take care of you
and Daddy and Jarvis and Ana…”

“Where will you have gone while we’re getting old?”

She considered it. “Egypt.” He stuffed his fist in his mouth to keep from laughing, turning away
and turning off the light so she wouldn’t see him lose it. It was the last answer he’d expected.
“Why Egypt?” he asked when he’d mastered himself again.

“I want to see the pee-ra-”

“Pyramids?”

“Yeah, those. My teacher has a book about them. They’re very big.”

“Are they really? And where would you go after Egypt?”

“To the North Pole. To see Santa.”

“It’s very cold,” he said, biting his tongue. “You’ll have to dress warm.” He felt inordinately fond
of her at that moment. Bending down, he kissed her forehead. “You’re very special. I’m looking
forward to being old now. You’ll tell me your stories about your adventures and I’ll paint you
pictures while you’re away and we’ll eat cake. How about that?”

“Mm hm. Sing me a song,” she demanded, her voice soft and commanding.

“The… wheels on the bus…”

“Not that one!”

He shushed her, laughing. He settled on some James Taylor; his dad had sung these songs to him, a
long time ago. He’d been little and they’d play the radio soft on car rides home and he’d fall asleep
in the backseat, hearing his dad’s voice long after he’d drifted off. It was for the best when she fell
asleep midway through the second song- thinking about his dad made him happy and sad all in
one.

He crept downstairs when his watch showed quarter to eleven, Morgan curled up in covers on his
bed. Tony had been in the kitchen- the cheesecake had been cut into and a cupboard left open- He
closed the cupboard and continued on through the house.
He heard Tony before he saw him. The mechanic had turned on music- soft, but noticeable in the
stillness of the mansion. “Abba?” Steve questioned. “I thought we were eating cheesecake?”

“We’re eating cheesecake but first I thought I’d try to get you to dance. It’s better at room
temperature- don’t worry. And Morgan’s spilled the beans- the two of you dance to Dancing
Queen every Monday while Peter’s at school.”

“We missed this Monday,” he confessed bemusedly. “Sometimes it’s Super Trouper-” He sat down
on the coffee table, so that Tony couldn’t move it. “The kids say you don’t dance.”

“I haven’t danced in a while. There’s a difference.”

He considered it from his place on the table. Mr. Stark had probably danced with his wife, and had
stopped when she had gotten sick. He might not want to start again, especially with Steve. “You
really want to dance with me?”

Mr. Stark caught his hands up, thumbs circling his wrists. “Captain, I’ve wanted to dance with you
since I saw you doing that ridiculous jig to Waterloo-”

He looked up. “That was months ago.”

“I know. So you see how the tension has built, deliciously, but still-”

“You’re not exactly subtle. You could have asked.”

“Joy has to come naturally. I’ve just been waiting for the right circumstances. And I was willing to
wait.” Mr. Stark rubbed Steve’s ear idly. Those fingers, always moving. “I can be patient when I
want to be.”

He stood up. Due to their height difference, he stood a good four inches over the other man. Why
then, did it always seem like Tony engulfed him? “You’ve been very patient with me,” he agreed.
He wanted more joy in his life. Suddenly it seemed like he’d lived long enough without it.

“Would you dance with me?”

“Do you want to lead or should I-?” He leaned on the mechanic’s shoulders, drinking the sight of
him in.

“I can lead. I can follow. You know what? You take the lead, Captain. I’ve never gone wrong,
following in your footsteps.”

He slipped close, feeling butterflies in his stomach- why did Tony have such a profound effect on
him? “Give me your hand?”

His hand trailed down Tony’s, tangling their fingers together reverently. Clasping hands, he
pressed a kiss to Tony’s hand, then his wrist. His other arm encircled Tony’s waist. Closing his
eyes, he leaned forward until their foreheads were pressed together.

“You’re not leaving room for Jesus,” Tony commented.

He exploded with giggles, his shoulders shaking. “No,” he agreed cheerfully. “I’m not.”

He stepped forward then, Tony taking a step back, perfectly in tune with what he wanted to do. It
had been a long time since he’d felt this way. Steve could feel his fears slipping away in the
moment, leaving him feeling giddy and younger, more like the person he had used to be.
 Chapter 53
Chapter Notes

Putting this one up early as I'm very busy this weekend- have a safe and happy
weekend.

Both kids were healthy by that Thursday. Natasha invited them over to her townhouse to celebrate.
“Because I missed my Steve,” she said, hugging him as he crossed the threshold that night.

“We’re codependent,” he told Tony.

“I love your friendship,” he said smoothly. “I would never interfere with it. Hi, honey.” He looked
surprised but pleased when she hugged him too.

When they’d first got to the townhouse, it had been flurrying a little. Steve was surprised, mid
dinner, to glance out the window and see a ton of flakes whirling past the window. Nobody had
seen a forecast for snow- but here it was. They’d shrugged it off, imagining that it would slow
eventually, but now-

“Who would have thought so much snow would come down in so little time?” Natasha mused,
holding one of the curtains back and looking out into the street.

“Um, I’m pretty sure that’s the definition of a blizzard, the amount and the little time put together,”
Steve said.

“Says the art school graduate.”

“Are you sure you don’t mind us staying the night here?” Mr. Stark had joined them. He looked
doubtful at Natasha, like he couldn’t imagine she had really agreed to put them up for the night.

“It’d be really sick to send a couple of toddlers out in this, Tony,” she said. “Do you remember that
book they always read us in elementary school? What was it?” she asked Steve. “The little girl with
the matches. That’s what these ones would look like. And they’re too cute for that.”

“Natasha’s just excited because she rarely gets to use one guest bedroom, let alone both,” Steve
said. “And I think she might be right. I really thought we were just getting a dusting but it’s not safe
out there right now.”

“We just watched someone banana split on the sidewalk,” Natasha confided in Steve’s boss.

“Did you get a video?”

“What’s wrong with you two?” Steve hissed. “He could have been seriously hurt.”

“He’s probably never going to have children,” Natasha murmured to Tony. The mechanic cracked
a grin.

“Here’s a new question,” Mr. Stark tossed out there. “How are we splitting up these guest
bedrooms? Am I bunking with you or are we both taking a kid-?”
Steve had been planning on kipping in Natasha’s bed originally, sure that Tony wouldn’t want her
knowing the extent to which they’d started bedsharing (nevermind that he told her everything,
anyways). Before he could say anything, Natasha cut in. “I say put the two kids in one room.
They’re going to bed long before we do. Why risk waking them up? You could share with Tony.”

“Unless you want to sleep in Natasha’s bed tonight,” Mr. Stark queried shrewdly.

Both Mr. Stark and Natasha turned to look at him. They were going to make him say it. He could
feel his ears turning pink. “I- uh- well, you see-”

“He tells me about it, every time you guys ‘batten down the hatch’ together,” Natasha confided in
Mr. Stark.

“I suspect the two of you have no secrets from each other.”

“Very little. Steve lost his virginity in two places. You should ask him about that sometime-”

“How is that even possible? Captain-?”

“Okay, okay, okay,” he said, mostly to stop them from saying anything worse than what they’d
already batted back and forth. “I want-” He lost his words. He jerked his head at the mechanic,
who was smiling gently at him now. “But we can’t tell anyone. The others will tease me.”

“They won’t, but I don’t give away secrets, especially those that aren’t mine.”

“I was hoping this was the arrangement you’d pick.” Mr. Stark’s tone was teasing but his eyes
were watchful. “Come here.” He gestured Steve forward.

Steve had never realized how much Mr. Stark liked to hug until after he’d told him his secret.
These days, he felt he competed with the kids for who got the most hugs from the mechanic.
“Hey,” he said, collapsing into the man’s hold.

“Hey,” Tony agreed. He squeezed the back of Steve’s neck, kissed his ear. “You’re safe with me.”

“I think so.”

“One day you’ll know it.”

“I-” Steve bit his lip. It was hard to imagine that they had a ‘one day’ within them, that this
relationship wouldn’t fall apart long before that. Steve watched Mr. Stark talking to the kids,
telling them about the change in plans. He glanced at Natasha. She’d been watching him. “I- I
know I’m safe,” he said.

“Nobody’s rushing you, Steve.”

The kids were excited to stay over, less excited that they had to go to bed. “You guys were falling
asleep,” Steve chided them gently. He carried them both up the stairs, Mr. Stark and Natasha
following in his wake. They dressed the kids in Natasha’s t-shirts. “Did you steal this from me?”
Steve asked, helping Pete pull the Fleetwood Mac shirt up and over his head.

“Nope.”

“Then why does the tag say ‘Steve Rogers’ on it?”

“I just like a little reminder of you.”

“I think she stole your shirt,” Pete whispered, hugging Steve around the middle.

“I think so too,” he agreed. “Why do you even want shirts this big?” he asked her, laughing when
she handed him the next shirt which also belonged to him. “I get them in tall- they must look like
dresses on you.”

“I’ve made them work as dresses before,” she agreed. “Put a skirt under it and a belt and you’re
good to go.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“You can’t wear a skirt,” Morgan said suspiciously. He cocked his head. “Your butt would hang
out.” He laughed and decided never to tell her about Halloween his junior year of college.

Steve and Tony decided through a series of silent exchanges that Natasha would read to the kids.
She scoffed at them, but Steve knew she liked it. He whispered to her that he’d put the kettle on,
kissed both kids and Natasha, and slipped out before she could object.

“Does it ever make you nervous, us sleeping in the same bed?”

He put his feet up on the coffee table with a sigh. “I’m not afraid of you,” he said through a yawn.

“Well, I would absolutely never do anything without your permission, but that wasn’t what I was
asking, my dear Captain.”

He flopped his head to the side. “I like it,” he murmured. “You’re really warm-” Mr. Stark laughed
a little at that. “Sturdy. Safe. I’m sorry that I-” Their eyes met. “I need to take it so slow.”

“Don’t be sorry about that.”

“Nevertheless, I am sorry.”

Mr. Stark snagged his hand with a couple of his fingers. He maneuvered his hand into Steve’s,
lacing their fingers together. He did all this without looking at Steve. It made Steve laugh. Mr.
Stark shot him a look at that, grin already forming on his lips- he pulled Steve’s hand close,
pressing it to his stomach in the way that the captain always loved. “You’re not the only one who’s
afraid,” he said gently. “I wasn’t prepared to love anyone ever again, not after she died.”

“But you love me?”

“But I love you. Very much, Captain.”

He hummed happily. He examined their fingers. “Someday I’d like to see what these fingers can
do,” he confided in the older man. Mr. Stark startled at that. Steve pushed to his feet, grinning at
him. He could hear Natasha coming down the stairs and he detoured into the hall on his way to the
kitchen. “Water’s almost hot- good timing.”

“Are they asleep?” Mr. Stark asked, having followed them into the hall.

“Knocked out. They were already pretty tired.” She’d changed into her pajamas- sweats and yet
another one of Steve’s shirts.

“It’s a wonder I have any left,” he said, plucking at it.

“It flatters him,” she told Mr. Stark.

“If we both start stealing clothes from him, he won’t have anything left,” the mechanic murmured.
His eyes flashed with merriment. “We might have something there-”
 Chapter 54

They were climbing the stairs. “I should try to get the kids to pee,” Steve said sleepily.

He detoured across the hall and scooped Pete up first. “Hey, sweetheart,” he said, kissing his fist.
“Just need you to wake up a little…”

Pete was snuffling, blinking at him, his eyebrows drawn together. Steve sat him on his arm,
slipping into the bathroom and grabbing the stool. “I have to pee?” Pete queried.

“That would be good if you could potty, baby.”

“How is he so cute?” Natasha whispered to the brunette.

“Pete or Steve?”

“Pick. Either.”

“You guys are ridiculous.” Folding the shirt up, he scooted Pete’s undies down. He jostled him a
little. “Open those eyes,” he said, standing him up on the stool. “You can lean on me.”

Tony had gotten Morgan in the meanwhile. “Let’s trade,” he said when Peter was done. Steve
boosted the toddler into his arms where Pete promptly curled up on his chest, his eyes fluttering
shut. Morgan looked more awake; she always did when they had to do this. She reached out for
him.

“Steve, why do we have to potty at night?” Morgan whispered, her legs kicking.

“Because your body doesn’t wake you up while you’re sleeping. It’s still learning.”

She yawned. “I already know how to potty,” she protested, slumping a little. “I’m big. Like
Natasha…”

“Yes ma’am. Almost done?”

“Almost. Steve, are you my daddy too?”

He froze where he’d been standing in front of her. “No,” he said, stumbling over the one simple
word. “I’m your Steve. I’m just your nanny. But I love you,” he added, because she looked
confused. “Here- wash your hands. Time to go back to bed.”

“You do act like a daddy,” she mumbled into his shoulder when he was carrying her across the
hall.

“Do I?” he whispered. He settled her beside Peter. “How so?” He checked behind him- he’d closed
the door. God only knew how Tony and Natasha were going to tease him about this later.

She peered up at him. “Everything,” she said stubbornly. “I think you are.”

“I thought I acted like a ‘mommy,’ he said, using finger quotes.

“Yeah, but you’re a boy…”

He hummed. His stomach cramped; somewhere along the way he’d blurred the lines and even the
kids had noticed. “Close those eyes,” he said softly. “It’s time for Morgans and Peters to go to
sleep.”

“Will you be there in the morning?”

“Of course. And I’m looking forward to seeing you. After you’ve gotten like… so many hours of
sleep.”

She giggled and he couldn’t help it- he leaned forward to embrace her, kissing her hands before
tucking them under the covers. “I wish you were my babies,” he whispered to her. She blinked up
at him, giving him a sleepy smile.

He found the other two adults waiting for him in the guest bedroom. “Don’t tease me,” he begged.
“I swear I don’t put them up to it.”

“Nobody’s going to tease you,” Natasha soothed. “Just don’t freak out- okay?”

“I don’t freak out,” he said, starting to get undressed.

“You literally got hit by a car because you were freaking out,” she pointed out. He balled up his
sweater and chucked it at her. She just shrugged, dropping it on the ground.

“That was one time.”

“At least we know the kids aren’t homophobic,” Tony joked, watching him putz around the room.
“For what it’s worth, Steve, nobody’s putting any pressure on you. We can explain to the kids if it
comes up again that you’re my friend and/or that you’re the nanny- although there’s no ‘just’ about
it- or we can have an entirely different conversation. But I wouldn’t mind sharing the title with you
someday. If that’s what you wanted.”

Steve had been taking his jeans off as Tony said this; his leg got caught in the pant leg and he
pitched forward, stumbling into the bed. “Real smooth,” Natasha said. “Shut up,” he growled,
staying facedown.

“Just a passing thought Steve- don’t ditch me for Nat. I know she’s a superior cuddler-”

“How would you know that?”

“She’s got- forgive me, Nat- tits and tits are always fun for cuddling-”

Natasha hit him with a pillow. “What Tony’s trying to say,” she said, giving the mechanic a glare,
“is that he wants you with him. Definitely for tonight and maybe in the future. There’s no pressure.
Tony didn’t put Morgan up to anything- you just act like a dad.”

He kicked his way out of his jeans at last. “People keep saying that but I’m not a dad.”

“Nope, you’re just raising my children,” Tony said cheerfully. He opened his arms to Natasha,
giving her a long, lingering hug. “Bye honeybunch. Thanks for dinner. Thanks for not kicking us
out.”

“I would never.”

She ducked around the end of the bed, waiting semi-patiently for Steve to sit up. He pushed
himself up from his flop, drawing her close. “I love you,” he said, kissing her collarbone.
“Beautiful, patient Natasha. Best little sister I could ask for.”
She huffed a laugh. “Best brother. Best friend. You need to be kinder to yourself.” She kissed his
cheek, pressing their faces together. “I’m glad we got snowed in. We should do something fun
tomorrow. Call the kids out of school.”

“We should.”

“I’ll return him to you on the weekend,” Tony promised as she was leaving the room. “I get you
during the week,” he told Steve. “She gets your weekends. We went to court to draw up the
custody arrangements.”

“Oof, then wouldn’t that make you my parent?”

“Oh, shit. We’ll fix that in the morning.” Tony flopped down beside him, pressing his shoulder
against Steve’s.

Steve sought Tony’s hand out, clasping it. “Sorry I freak out about little things.”

“You’re allowed to freak out about anything.”

Steve wished the conversation had never come up, that they could trace it back to where it first
began branching off and nip it right there in the bud. If he was the kids’ parent, he would be
married to Tony, and if he was married to Tony, he should be fully functional, and he wasn’t- there
were so many things that he did wrong, that were bad about him.

“Come here.” Tony tugged fruitlessly on Steve, trying to pull him apparently toward the top of the
bed. “Christ, you’re solid.”

“I’m a big guy.”

“You’re muscular and those muscles are heavy. Hey, look at me?” Steve looked up. “What do you
want out of tonight?”

“What do you mean?”

“You want to fool around a little or you want to cuddle? I could go sleep on the couch. We could
keep to our sides as per usual. I just want to know what you’d like. Try to think back to what you
wanted before we woke the kids up. What were you hoping for?”

Steve blinked. Once he was anxious, it was hard to get him off that train of thought. Tony was
trying. He should try. “I do not want you on the couch,” he said firmly.

“Good, good.”

“I-” His brain was stalling. Why did he get so anxious? He didn’t want to talk about emotions
tonight. What had he wanted before? “I want to undress you.” Where had that come from? He
never did that. But the idea was there and tempting.

“Sure.” Tony rolled down onto the floor as soundlessly as a cat. He waited for Steve.

Steve sat up slowly, engaging his muscles to get him up off the comfortable bed. “You dressed
like a prep today,” he mused, curling his fingers under the blue sweater. “I dressed to be warm,”
Tony murmured, lifting his arms so that Steve could pull the sweater up and over.

“I’m not opposed to the idea of being-” The words stuck in his throat. “What she said. It’s just that
I’m a mess. The babies deserve better. You do too.” He opened each button of his button down,
refusing to look Tony in the eye.

“Are we talking about the same Steve Rogers?”

“Born on the fourth of July. Kind of an idiot-?”

“Beautiful blue eyes. A laugh I can hear from a block away. Kind of bratty, kind of sweet? Has
trouble taking care of himself? I think we’re talking about the same one. But mine’s not a mess.”
Steve flicked a look up at Tony’s face. The man’s brown eyes were watching him. He swallowed.

Tony rolled his hips forward a little, brushing against Steve’s front. He gave the soldier a wide
eyed innocent look. Steve tutted, undoing the top button of his jeans, unzipping the zipper. “I like
you,” Steve said, which was a silly thing to say.

Tony’s eyes were fond. “I like you,” he agreed.

“Anxiety and all?”

“I like all of you,” Tony clarified. He stepped out of the jeans. Steve knelt down in front of him,
taking his socks off. “You really want me naked tonight,” he joked.

“I left your boxers on.” Steve tapped his knee absently.

“Take them off.”

Steve looked up at that, his positioning suddenly much more obvious. “What?” he asked, feeling
lightheaded.

“Take them off? If you want. I don’t want anything between us, Captain.”

Steve reached up, sure he was making a mistake, sure this was a trick. He settled his hands over
Tony’s hips, asking silent permission; Tony nodded and Steve gripped the fabric. He pulled them
down.

Tony was shameless, Steve would give him that. He was comfortable in a way that was truly
enviable. The mechanic didn’t seem to mind Steve’s attention, the way he was staring, examining;
if anything, he seemed faintly amused, petting Steve’s hair and scratching his skull lightly with his
fingernails.

Steve leaned forward to press a kiss to the juncture of Tony’s thigh and groin, resting his face in
the man’s stomach and Tony just hugged him close.

Strangely, it didn’t feel sexual so much as intimate. Steve breathed in Tony’s smell-eucalyptus and
teakwood. His cheek brushed against shorthairs. He felt his mind slowing down. As the anxiety
ebbed away, shame and elation did battle over the new territory. “You’re okay,” Tony said.
“Everything’s okay.”

“I want…” Tony waited for him; he groaned. “I want you. The babies. To be better.”

The mechanic gently hauled him to his feet. “Take it slow. When you’re young, you want
everything to happen right away. I’m in my forties. I’m not rushing you.”

“You’re literally naked right now,” Steve whispered in his ear, falling forward into the other man’s
embrace.

“Mm, trying to prove a point.”

“What point? That seeing you naked gets me aroused? Point proven.”

Tony was beaming at him. He pulled him towards the bed. “Good to know. No, my point is that I
trust in you. You can trust in me. I don’t want anything from you except you, yourself.”

Steve hummed. He lifted Tony, draping him onto the bed. Climbing over him, he kissed the
mechanic in some small spots- the scars on his chest that Tony never talked about, the tattoo on his
bicep, the groove by his hip. There was a mindfulness to the task that blocked out all other worries,
all the moments before and after this moment.

Tony was remarkably quiet, letting Steve maneuver him into the position he wanted him in,
breathing in heavily when Steve pressed one of his legs up so that he could kiss the back of his
calf, huffing with amusement at the look Steve gave him. He laced his fingers on his stomach,
waiting patiently.

Everyone always thought Tony was so reckless. Nobody saw him in moments like this.

Crawling up the bed, he collapsed ungainly on top of Tony, making the other man oomph with an
echoing laugh. He swallowed the sound, pressing small kisses to the mechanic’s lips while his
fingers roamed. “I love you, I love you…”

“It’s cold, Capsicle.” Tony’s eyes were crinkled. “Keep me warm.”

Steve yanked the covers up over them, turning out the bedside light and rolling back into Tony’s
space. He worked over the other man’s body, delighting in the quiet responsiveness of it all.
 Chapter 55

“I’ll wash the sheets in the guest rooms this weekend,” Steve said in an undertone to Natasha the
next morning, bending over her.

She looked up, surprised and a little grossed out, he could tell. “What did you do?” she queried, the
mixed emotions coloring and humorizing her voice.

“Not- not what you’re thinking. Just might have- yeah-” He blushed beatifically, shutting his
mouth when they heard small footsteps coming down the stairs. “I’ll tell you more- tomorrow-”

Pete had wandered to the narrow window by the front door. He made his way down the hall,
standing a little ways away. Pete looked over his shoulder at him. “Steve, it snowed,” he said
sleepily. “Do we have to go to school?”

“School’s closed, pumpkin. That means you’re all mine.”

Pete grinned up at him, his smile molasses slow in developing but lingering. “Pick me up?
Please?”

“I could never say no to that. Come sit with me and Nat,” he whispered, easily scooping him up.

“I thought you were the one that liked to sleep in,” Natasha told Peter.

He blinked at her from his spot in Steve’s arms. “Morgan kicks.”

“Oh…” She nudged Steve, getting up. “I’ll make us some cocoa. None for you. You look like
you’re falling back asleep,” she said, bending over Peter. He nodded, nuzzling the fabric of Steve’s
shirt. ‘Your favorite,’ she mouthed at Steve, moving towards the stove.

Tony wandered down a good hour later with Morgan thumping along behind him. He’d pulled on
his jeans from the day before- and Steve’s sweatshirt. “You’re right, stealing Steve’s clothes is
fun,” he said cheerfully, sliding into the seat next to the redhead.

“What did you do to my sheets?” she asked him suspiciously.

“Technically, that’s not my fault. Take it up with Steve.”

“You’re buying me dinner tonight,” she said.

“Sure, sure. I’ll buy you dinner. Steve will make breakfast. Has anybody told you how amazingly
forgiving you are?”

Steve shifted Peter into Tony’s arms, rubbing his back absently. He could feel the blood smarting
in his ears and could see that Natasha was amused despite herself. “I plead the fifth,” he whispered.
“Morgan, help me crack some eggs. I’ll make French Toast.”

“I can help,” Peter said, pouring out of Tony’s arms like a liquid himself.

They had a lazy morning- Tony washed dishes for Natasha, perhaps guilty for the mess they’d
created, perhaps as payment for their room and board. Steve grabbed her, dragging her to the living
room where they watched reruns of the Golden Girls, the kids playing on the rug in front of them.

“Are you on the clock right now?” she asked at one point.
“Technically, I am watching the kids so this is work,” he mumbled back. He edged the blanket
away from her so that he could have more of it himself. She gave him a look. “Tony,” he said, as
the brunette headed for the door. “Can you get another blanket?”

“Yeah, just a second-”

Jarvis had come to the door, bringing with him a change of clothes and the kids’ winter snow gear.
So the roads were clear again. Steve examined the picture Morgan was showing him and half
listened to their conversation. Tony was leaning close to the old butler, a happy little grin on his
face.

Tony scoffed when he came back into the room. “Is this what the two of you do on your Sundays
together?” he asked, covering Natasha up.

“Still jelly?” she remarked.

“I was never jealous,” he commented. “But this does help.”

“What are you doing now?”

“I’m taking a shower.”

“I’ll come with you,” Morgan piped up. Pete rolled over. “Me too?”

“Sure, fine. Go get ready. I haven’t had a moment of privacy in the past five years,” he
commented. Natasha shrugged. “It doesn’t last forever,” she commented.

“Bite your tongue-”

“Let’s go on an adventure when you’re done,” she called after him. She waited until they heard his
footsteps on the third floor landing. “What did you do with him?”

“Oh, I can’t tell you that with the kids under this roof,” he said, feeling himself turn a delicate pink.
“Besides, you’re interrupting Bea Arthur- come on-”

She gave him major side eye but he stuck to his guns. Snuggling closer to her, he rested his head
against her chest. Tony was right. Tits were great. “You’re the worst,” she complained, scritching
his hair with her fingertips. “You love me,” he mumbled.

They piled into the car when Tony came back down with the kids. Steve somehow ended up in the
backseat, squished in between the car seat and the booster seat. He spread out his arms over the top
of the seats, listening to Tony banter with Natasha in the front seat.

“Where are we going?” Peter whispered to him.

“Don’t know. Daddy didn’t tell me either.”

Morgan leaned into the conversation. “Daddy says it's a secret.”

“We’re leaving the city?” Steve asked.

“That’s right.”

They didn’t get another word from him. Tony sang Grassroots songs under his breath while
Natasha turned in her seat to talk to him. The kids drifted in and out of the conversations, their
interest out the windows at the passing landscape. Peter tugged on Steve’s hand. “I saw a huge
bird,” he said. “I think it was an owl.”

“Do you think there are invisible monsters running on the telephone lines?” Morgan asked, her
eyes up on the wires. Natasha mouthed ‘what?’ to Steve; he shook his head at her. Nobody had an
answer.

They pulled down a long driveway. “Tony, what is this?” Steve asked.

“This, my dear Captain, is where I grew up. The Jarvises still live here on their vacations. It’s not
too far from the mansion.”

“This is where you grew up?”

“What are we doing here?” Morgan asked, interrupting Steve.

“Sledding,” Tony said cheerfully, parking the car. “There’s a hill just over there. I thought we’d
have more privacy here,” he added, getting out.

“Can we go in?” Peter asked, his eyes on the big main house. Steve was also interested in this
mansion that Tony had been a kid in. He’d had no idea that Tony still owned it, frankly didn’t
understand why Tony lived in the city if he had this gigantic place in the country.

“Not today, my love. We’ll get you into your winter gear in the Jarvises’ house but then we’re just
here to go sledding. The big house is all shut up- boring.”

Steve had to wait for Natasha and Tony to extract the two kids so that he could get out. Tony’s
childhood home was so much bigger than his had been… They’d lived such different lives. “Penny
for your thoughts,” Tony said, pulling Morgan’s booster seat out so that Steve could escape.

Steve bit his lip. He shook his head, forging a smile. “Not thinking anything. Are you going to go
sledding?”

“We all are. Right, Natasha?”

“That’s right,” she agreed, eyeing Steve.

They bundled the kids in their winter gear, found the sleds in the garage, and trooped out to the hill
in the back. The yard was huge- Steve couldn’t believe this was all one family’s property. “Have
you been sledding before?” he asked, picking Morgan up and propping her on his shoulder.

“Never,” she said. “Is it fun? Is it scary?”

“It’s lots of fun,” he assured her. “Go down with me. I’ll keep you safe.”

His stomach twisted pleasurably as they went down the hill. Something about doing stuff like this
with the babies, stuff he’d loved as a kid, reminded him of his own father in a way that he’d never
felt before, except that this time he was the parental figure. There was a strange sense of
completing a cycle in it, running up the hill with the kids and them begging him to slide down with
them again. He felt a strange mix of joy and sadness in it all.

They spent the afternoon on the hill, trooping up to the little in-law house when the sun started
dipping down.

“You got a little pensive,” Natasha said, walking beside him as they followed the Starks up the hill.

“Thinking about my dad,” he said lightly.

“Ah.”

They found a little diner to eat in before they made it back to the city. Steve felt like he could fall
asleep in the booth, the warmth of the place settling over him after having been outside for so long.
“We’ll bring you home,” Tony told Natasha. She nodded.

They followed her back into the townhouse a half hour later, Tony wandering off to the kitchen to
feed the cats (they were doing their best to trip him up), the kids already starting to lose gloves and
hats in the front hallway.

“You’re coming back to me tomorrow?” she asked, holding her arms out.

He fell into her embrace, wrapping his arms around her waist and picking her up. “If you’ll have
me,” he agreed, swaying with her.

She hooked her ankles on his hips to keep herself up. “Oh yes. I have a lot of catching up to do with
you.”

He just laid her out on the couch, grinning down at her. “Bye, baby,” he said, kissing her hands. “I
love you. We’ll get takeout. Poll the others to see what they want. Give me a kiss-”

She pecked him on the forehead, shaking her head and smirking at him. Tony waved to her from
the hallway but the kids came over to say goodbye, their arms reaching for her.

“Today was fun!”

“We should go again. Can we Steve-?”

“Can we stay in your house again next week?” Morgan asked.

“Someday,” Natasha agreed, laughing. “We’ll figure it out. But you guys have to go to bed now.
You must be super tired.”

“Not,” Morgan protested. But her eyelids were drooping. Steve gave Natasha one last pat and then
he scooped up the kids. Tony held the door and led them to the car. Steve could feel himself
beginning to fade even. He and Tony had stayed up late last night, he’d admittedly woken up early,
and the sledding had taken a lot of his energy out.

“Going to sleep well tonight,” he mumbled.

“That’s the plan,” Tony agreed. He got behind the wheel. “Kay kids- we’ve got it from here. Don’t
try to stay awake if you feel yourself drifting off…”
 Chapter 56

“Now that I’m releasing you back to the wild, do you promise you’ll say only favorable things
about me to your friends?”

He snorted. “I thought I was going over to Brooklyn, not the jungle.”

“Same difference.”

“I’ll tell them honest things about you-”

Tony fake gasped. It got Morgan’s attention- she ran up to them, wanting to be in on the gossip-
Tony lifted her up, dancing around. “I’ll be nice,” Steve promised, pecking Morgan on the lips. He
ruffled Tony’s hair. “I need my phone.”

“Pete has it. He’s been talking to Ned. Better tell him to wrap it up.”

He actually didn’t like interrupting Peter, but Natasha was expecting him. Heading into the living
room, he found Peter sprawled on the couch, facetiming with Ned. Steve got on his knees next to
the couch, murmuring to the five year old when he looked up. “Hey, buddy. Hey, Ned.”

“Steve, we’re playing Battleship.”

“I see that, honey. You guys almost done?”

“I’m looking for his little ship. Do you have to go?” Steve nodded. “Oh, but we’re not done.”

Tony leaned over the back of the couch. “Ned, we’re having some phone difficulty,” he said
cheerfully. “Pete’s going to call you back on my phone. Maybe five minutes.”

“You really have to go?” Peter was scrambling off the couch, in danger of knocking his half of the
Battleship game on the ground. Tony seized it in the background, his act of selfless heroism
completely missed by the five year old who was climbing up Steve’s front.

“I’m only going to be gone a day,” he laughed, letting Pete kiss him. “Like usual on the weekends.
You’d get sick of me if I was here all the time.”

“I don’t get sick of Daddy and he’s here all the time.”

“Wow, ouch-”

“Maybe you should come over too, one of these times we go out,” Steve said thoughtfully. “Would
you want to?”

“What with your friends?” Tony looked surprised. “They probably don’t want me around.”

“They liked when we saw the musical together. I’ll ask them. We’ll make plans for one of these
next weekends,” Steve decided. “Okay, pumpkin. Ned’s waiting for you.” He gave the little boy an
extra squeeze before letting him slide back down onto the couch.

Pete didn’t exactly look pleased. “You’re not supposed to go anywhere,” he complained to Tony.
“You stay home!”

“I’m not going anywhere tonight,” Tony soothed. He smoothed out the skin behind Pete’s ear.
“Still want to call Ned?”

“Yeah…” But Pete’s mood had definitely diminished. Steve would have felt worse, but Tony did
deserve some fun out as well. He kissed Pete’s curls, snagged Morgan for another hug as she
drifted past, and caught Tony around the waist.

The mechanic followed him to the door. “He won’t be mad for long,” the brunette promised,
snagging Steve’s hand. “Change is hard.”

“Yes.”

“You’ve been distracted, Captain.”

He paused in the act of putting his jacket on. “Have I? Sorry,” he said weakly.

Tony was running his tongue over the edges of his teeth, looking faintly worried. “Did I do
something wrong?” he asked abruptly. “The other night? I shouldn’t have pushed-”

“It’s not you,” Steve said quickly. “It’s me. It’s always me.”

Tony blinked at that. “You haven’t done anything wrong,” he said.

“No,” Steve agreed. “It’s just- I’m just a little anxious. That’s all. It comes and goes. I’m sorry.”

Mr. Stark considered him. “When I want an apology from you, I’ll tell you, Cap. Otherwise you
don’t need to be so sorry.” He smiled at Steve. “Enjoy your time with your friends. Come back to
us. Go on now.”

Steve got as far as the car, dropped his bag in the backseat and jogged back to the backdoor. Tony
answered his knock, looking surprised. “Forget something, Captain?”

“Yes, this-” He kissed Tony on the lips. “I don’t regret anything,” he promised, “my brain’s just
broken sometimes.”

Tony smiled for real now. “No, you’re absolutely fine. I love you.”

He was parking at Natasha’s before he realized that he hadn’t responded to Tony’s ‘I love you.’
“Why do I always forget?” he mumbled, grabbing his bag. It just hadn’t occurred to him to
respond. Was he so long out of practice with love that he couldn’t find his way back?

“Hi Snookums,” Natasha said when he wandered in. “I’m starting dinner.”

“Now?” he asked, looking at his watch.

“It’s in the crockpot. It’s going to take a while.”

“It smells good. Let me bring my bag upstairs and I’ll grab those sheets- sorry about that, by the
way-”

“I already washed them,” she said. “Give me your bag and use those big strong muscles of yours to
bring up all this bedding- Sam and Bucky might stay the night too, depending on the weather.
They’ll want the guest room. We won’t tell them what you did in there, if you don’t want to say.”

“You’ve been through way too much with me,” he murmured. “This stuff doesn’t even phase you.
You shouldn’t have washed the sheets though. That’s nasty-”
“You’re nasty,” she said cheerfully, jogging up the stairs. “There was… a lot. Was that both of
you?” They detoured into the guest bedroom, Steve dropping the laundry basket with a thump. He
was decidedly pink now and wished he could say it was from the exertion. “Yes,” he said simply.
“I started it.”

“I’m weirdly proud of you. This end goes at the bottom, by the way.”

“We should put your fleece sheets on the bed after this,” he said, letting her direct him. “I can still
sleep in your bed, can’t I?”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

He sighed in relief. “I’m just afraid I’ll lose your love.” He caught her up in his arms, flopping
down on the newly made bed with her. “Like I can only have so much good in my life? What if I
focus on Tony and lose you? What if I make everyone angry? What if-”

She kissed his forehead. He quieted, closing his eyes. He liked the way she carded her fingers
through his hair. “Nobody’s leaving you this time,” she murmured. Next, she thumped him on the
stomach. “Come on. Let’s put the fleece sheets on if they’re so important to you.”

“They’re warm,” he said, getting up. “I love being warm.”

“But not hot.”

“But never hot,” he agreed. “Why is it, you think, that whenever something good happens, I think
about all the bad things that could follow? Normal people don’t do that, do they?”

“Don’t know. I’m not normal either.” She moved Sonny off the bed, the Persian giving her an
affronted look. “You’ve had a lot of hard losses, Steve.”

“It hasn’t been a bad life though, all in all,” he said, trying to inject some positivity back into the
conversation. The last thing he wanted was to sound mopey, especially now.

“Hey- sit down. You can have a good life that’s still been hard. Frankly, that’s why we love you so
much. You’ve been through a lot and still you’re so good, Steve. That’s not the trauma. That’s
you.” She brushed past him, heading for the linen closet. “So, you messed up my sheets. Made
those sickening lovey dovey eyes at each other, all through breakfast. Then you got quiet when we
were sledding.”

“I was having fun,” he said quickly. “Did I seem like I wasn’t?”

“Relax.” She pushed her hand down his spine. “You did. But you’re quiet sometimes. Tell me
about that.”

He bit his lip. “What do you think this is all leading to?” he asked.

“All what?”

“Me. And Tony. Tony’s a millionaire, possibly a billionaire, and he’s brilliant- certifiably a genius.
I’m some fucked up ex-jarhead who can’t even have sex. Don’t you think…”

“Hey.” Her voice was sharp; he looked up at her. She cupped his jaw. “I don’t know where your
relationship is heading. I can’t answer that one. But you want my opinion? Tony is sickeningly in
love with Steve Rogers.” She brushed her thumb against his face. “Ask anyone, really. But it’d be
best to ask Tony.”
He was shaking slightly and maybe that was why she gentled her last response. “Nobody’s mad at
you. Nothing’s wrong. Have fun with us tonight. Keep talking to Tony. He’s not in a rush. He told
me that he just wants you to feel safe.”

He leaned against her chest, mouthing silent apologies. Her cat jumped back up on the bed- they
were never going to change the sheets this way.

“Don’t tell the others I was like this?”

She gazed down at him. “I won’t,” she agreed. She sounded sad whenever he asked that of her. He
should stop. He just didn’t know how.

He sighed. “Thanks, honey.”

 Chapter 57

They managed to wrestle the sheets on her bed by repeatedly moving both cats- “I thought only
Sonny was up here, when we started”- and then Steve helped her clean up, moving her business
papers into the desk, scooping up the pile of socks from where she tossed them each night, taking
out the trash.

“We were just here yesterday, how did it get so messy?” he asked her.

“I shoved all of the mess into that closet while you guys were here,” she said, pointing to the hall
closet.

“Makes sense.”

His stomach growled, smelling dinner cooking. “I’m hungry,” he murmured, flopping into her lap.
“Make yourself a snack,” she retorted, pushing him off the couch. He lay face down on the floor in
protest.

“Aw, Nat, you killed him-”

Steve lifted his head. “You trying to give us heart attacks? What are you doing, sneaking in like
that?”

“Coming in politely is not sneaking in. We can’t all have your macho man entrance-”

“He’s on a hunger strike,” Natasha said.

“I’m not on a hunger strike, I’m protesting because I’m hungry-”

“Help him, he can’t help himself apparently-”

“Come on, punk,” Bucky said, grabbing him under the armpits and making him giggle in an
entirely unmasculine way. The brunette hauled him to his feet, looking at him fondly. “Did you eat
lunch?” Steve shook his head. “What an idiot,” the other man said, steering him towards the
kitchen.

“Mm, I’m a big dumb himbo,” Steve agreed, leaning bodily on Bucky now.

Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve’s shoulders, shaking him back and forth in a tight hug.
“How have you been, punk? We haven’t seen you since New Year’s.”

“That’s only two weeks really,” Steve pointed out.

“You know we like seeing you. You bring the calm energy.” Steve laughed outright at that. He
shook his head. “I’m reading that book you got me for Christmas.” He let Bucky maneuver him
over to the kitchen table, dropping down into a seat and watching Bucky look through Nat’s fridge.

“Yogurt? Fruit?”

“Peanut butter toast,” Steve begged, giving Bucky his best Disney prince eyes. He watched Bucky
work. “Is that guy still giving you a hard time at work?”

“Yeah. Douche…”
“So dumb,” he said, eyeing Bucky’s bulk. He happened to know for a fact that his friend could
knock someone out with a single punch.

“What’s this about Tony in the news?” Sam asked, wandering in and stealing the first piece of
peanut butter toast.

Steve looked up sharply. “What about him in the news?” he asked, his voice going tight. Suddenly,
he didn’t feel like eating. He caught the glare Bucky leveled on Sam; Sam winced but Steve was
already taking his phone out.

‘Division at Stark Industries as co-owners split ways…’ “Tony was telling me about this,” he said
quietly. He pushed the plate away when Bucky tried to get it close to him. “I didn’t know it was so
bad. They’re trying to say that he’s crazy?”

“Just that asshole,” Sam said bracingly, looking like he regretted saying anything now. “Come on,
Steve, you have to eat. Do it for us?”

“I’m not hungry,” he mumbled, scrolling through the article. The article was detailed, explaining
the history of the company (started by Tony’s father in the 50s, long focus on weapons
manufacturing, Tony’s parents killed in the late 90s, Tony had taken over as CEO at 19) and
brought it up to present day circumstances, including Tony’s most recent approval of Pepper as
CEO and the shift to clean energy. He felt sick. The article suggested the younger Stark had been
‘coerced by outside influences.’ That was him.

“Steve?” Bucky said tentatively when he’d clearly finished the article. “There’s a lot of public
support for the changes Tony’s making- look at the comments section. And you know that you
haven’t done anything nefarious. This is an old white guy who’s letting his greed take over. Sounds
like a schmuck.”

“If people knew I was involved with him, they’d think I’m some kind of gold digger,” Steve
mumbled. “They already thought that before any of these changes happened… Thought I was his
boy toy.”

“But you’re not, man. Look at me.” He looked up but his attention was far away. Bucky covered
his hand with his own, the cold plastic of the prosthetic enough of a jolt to get his attention. “Tony
would have told you if he was worried. Sounds like he does talk to you. Try not to get worked up
about this, okay? You can talk to him about it tomorrow. Or tonight if you need to. Now eat this
toast before it gets cold. Please, Stevie.”

“I’m not after his money,” Steve said, knowing nobody here thought that. “I’m not trying to
manipulate him.”

Sam had grabbed Natasha from where she’d been setting things up in the living room. She came
back into the room now, curling into his lap. “Hey,” she said.

“Hey,” he agreed, still feeling out of sorts. His eyes were on the window. It was too cold and icy to
go for a run. He needed to settle this here. She tipped his head towards herself. “Tony told you
something about why he changed the line of work he was doing. What was that?”

He fumbled in his pocket for the arc reactor, which he’d foolishly taken to carrying around with
him. “I’m a catalyst,” he said, feeling a sense of calm returning again, slowly but surely. “I start the
reaction. The kids are the product.”

“That’s right,” she agreed. “Is Tony the type to make changes he doesn’t want to?”
“No,” he realized softly. “He’s stubborn.”

“Then things are okay, Steve. You’re having a bad day. That’s all. Things will get better.” She
glanced at the clock over the stove. “Dinner will be ready in an hour. Eat up.” She took a bite of
the toast. “Mm, no. This is cold. Bucky’s going to make you another piece.”

“I can make it-”

“Sit,” Bucky ordered. “Let us help you.”

“I’m sorry, Steve. I spoke without thinking. Why are you having a bad day?”

He felt foolish now, with them all fussing over him. “Just some anxiety and self doubt,” he
muttered. “You know me…” He spread his arms wide hoping it indicated what an idiot he could
be.

He was quiet. The toast tasted like carpeting in his mouth. “Is what we’re doing wrong? I’m his
employee. I’m seducing the boss. Oh, god-”

“Steve, your job, and at this point, relationship with Tony in general isn’t very typical. You guys
need to talk this out. Come to some kind of mutual understanding. You understand?” Sam looked at
him.

“You’re not taking advantage of him,” Bucky said quietly. “You never do that. I know you worry.”
He grabbed Steve’s wrist, giving it a little shake. “Want to focus on something different?”

His mouth was dry. “Yes,” he said softly.

“Alright. Grab your toast. Let’s get out of the kitchen.”

They settled in the living room, Steve licking warm peanut butter off his fingers. Spartacus hopped
down from where he’d been hiding on his raised platform, coming over to join Steve (“he wants
your peanut butter, don’t give it to him”) and sitting in his lap. He kneaded biscuits into Steve’s
chest, purring loudly. Steve scratched behind his ears absently.

“I found a video you’ll think is funny, hang on…”

They put it on in the background, Natasha and Sam somewhere off in the kitchen and dining room.
Bucky tossed an arm over his shoulders. “If you’re not okay, I’m not okay,” he said, his eyes on
the television.

Steve huffed quietly, leaning his head back. “I’m okay,” he insisted. “Really, things are good. I’m
just worried about everything cause I’m kind of anxious piece of shit, you know?”

Buck hummed, making eye contact with him. Steve rested his nose against Bucky’s shoulder. “I
always thought that if I just stayed positive, tried to be decent, everything would come together.
But everything’s coming together and I still feel like a mess.”

“Just because you feel like a mess, doesn’t mean you’re a mess,” Bucky pointed out.

Steve nodded. He chewed this inside of his lip. “I want to be loved, but I want to be,” he gestured,
“together again. Me. Before I make anyone put up with that.”

“For what it’s worth… I don’t think you need to be perfect before someone loves you. I think you
can be loved and still piece yourself back together. Since it feels like something’s missing there.”
“What do you think’s wrong with me?” Steve whispered, his chest feeling tight. “Tony really loves
me, I think he really does, but I’m-” He pressed on his chest, unable to put the feeling into words.

Bucky squeezed his thigh. “I wasn’t going to date Sam. You made me do that.”

“I know.” He bobbed his head. “You blame me for it?”

“A little, punk,” Buck said, in that tone that never failed to make Steve laugh. “They put this
prosthetic arm on me and I didn’t think about it really, for months, remember? Did my PT, got the
job at the shop, and I thought I was normal again, and then you introduced me to that asshole-” He
jerked his thumb towards the kitchen; Steve felt his bad mood dissipating as Buck spoke- “And I
didn’t want to get near him. Know why?”

Steve paused. He knew the answer to this. He’d gotten into a fight with Bucky about it, in fact;
he’d been so unsure why his handsome, clever friend wouldn’t approach the man he was so clearly
captivated by. “You were afraid,” he whispered. “That you weren’t good enough for him. Because
of the arm. Because of what happened.”

“You told me I was being an idiot. Actually you said something much worse, but you know what I
mean-”

“You never stopped being my friend. Prosthetic or no prosthetic. You were the guy that used to
keep me safe, before my growth spurt. But you felt…”

Steve trailed off. He felt some dawning comprehension, a touch of fear. The unknown still made
his stomach cramp. But he felt better. His head clear again. “Thanks, Bucky.”

“You just need some outside perspective sometimes.” The brunette clapped him on his knee. “We
all need that. You do it for me. I do it for you.”

Steve bit his lip. “I’m learning to trust myself again,” he offered. “I’ve been taking chances again.”

“How’s that working out for you?”

He considered it. Everything with the Starks had been impulsive, right from the start, so different
from the careful world he’d been living in, sure that he could prevent himself from being hurt again
if he saw the world ten steps ahead. “Much better.”

“Good.” He gestured to the video. “I didn’t watch any of that. Sorry.”

“Doesn’t matter. I just put on something random.”

“You guys really know me frighteningly well. I’m almost afraid of you guys.” Bucky shrugged and
bumped his shoulder. “So,” he said, “you want to hear what the douchebag did this week?”

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

 Chapter 58
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

His welcoming committee was there on the stairs when he came home that evening.

“There are my babies,” he called, barely getting his coat off before they were up and off the stairs,
running down to meet him. He caught them up, squishing them to him. “My angels.”

“Steve, you’re late.”

“We already took our bath-”

“Captain.” He looked up from where he’d knelt on the ground. There was Tony, settling down on
one of the bottom steps, his hands hanging down between his knees. “We miss you when you’re
away,” he joked.

“Mm, you guys make it easy to rush back home,” he said, pressing kisses to the kids’ hair and
inspecting them. “Are these some of the pjs my momma picked out?”

“We match!”

“You two are so cute, you make my heart hurt sometimes. Can we go upstairs?” He pulled off his
shoes, leaving them by the door.

Tony walked up the stairs beside him, a hand on the small of his back. Steve loved how handsy he
was; even now, it was helping bring his anxiety all the way back down. Like being with the
mechanic meant that nothing wrong could happen. He didn’t understand these feelings, sometimes.
He was afraid of depending on Tony.

“Let’s talk in the library afterwards,” Tony suggested quietly.

“Yeah. We probably should.”

“No need to look like you’re heading to an execution. I have something good I wanted to run by
you.” Tony bent over Morgan, giving her half a dozen small kisses. They repeated the process with
Peter.

“I have something I should probably talk about,” Steve said nervously, playing with Pete’s fingers.
“Goodnight, pumpkin.” He pecked Pete on the lips. “You’re so loved, baby…”

“The more the merrier,” Tony said cheerfully. He flicked off the light. “I’m tired, Steve. You make
taking care of the kids look so easy. I think that’s the reason you leave on the weekends. To remind
me what a saint you are.”

“And this is them when they’re much calmer,” Steve said.

“Exactly. You’ll have to teach me your tricks one of these days.”

“Then you won’t need me anymore.”

“No, I’ll always need you.”

They headed down the stairs, turning lights out throughout the mansion as they went. Tony was
describing how he planned on integrating his AI’s tech into the house to control things like this-
cutting back on energy costs and increasing security. Steve only grasped about half of it.

He watched the other man light a small fire in the fireplace, the mechanic’s fingers surprisingly
quick and deft. “You had something you wanted to talk to me about?” he asked at last, because his
anxiety would get the better of him at some point. Better to head it off.

“Yes, and I’m not sure you’ll be thrilled by the prospect. Feel free to tell me to go fuck myself.”

“Seems unprofessional.”

“And you are the most professional person in this house.”

“Jarvis is suburb-” He gestured for Tony to continue talking. “What is it?”

The mechanic drew himself up. “For what it’s worth, I don’t get the impression you like galas very
much, but I was hoping you might come with me to one.”

His eyes shot up, catching Tony’s. “You want me to come… with you? Where? Why?”

“September Foundation gala. An annual charity event I hold for my mother’s foundation. We fund
underprivileged kids to go to schools, increase their education opportunities- girls, minorities, kids
with disabilities. You know. I have to go, press hands. Give a little speech. But you wouldn’t be
responsible for any of that. I just want you there.”

“And you want me to come? Doesn’t Pepper normally…”

“Pep will be there as well,” Tony agreed. “With my friend Rhodey. You’ve never met him.
Another reason for you to come. But not the main reason.”

“What’s the main reason?” Steve asked weakly, wondering if he could get out of this. Showing up
in public when there were already rumors spreading about his employer was not smart. It would be
better if anyone else went. Hell, even Natasha. They’d have a good time and look good together;
Natasha was unflappable in a way that he wasn’t. Natasha might even be more fun than he was. He
got nervous in crowds.

Tony had been waiting for him to refocus; he blinked. “Sorry,” he said again, knowing how much
the mechanic disliked his apologies. Too many apologies. Probably made them sound insincere.
He almost apologized for apologizing and decided he needed to cut himself off.

“My mom was my best friend, growing up,” Tony said, capturing his attention with one line.
“Nobody knew what it was like, living with Howard Stark, more than we did. No matter what, we
always had each other. My dad made her cold sometimes. But when it was just us? She was
vibrant. Reminds me of Mo. A little like your mom. But your mom is never aloof.”

“My ma’s almost too involved,” he said, trying for some levity.

Tony shook his head, grinning at him. “Bite your tongue, I adore your mom.”

“As much as you love me?” Steve couldn’t keep his mouth shut apparently.

“No. But she’s in my top ten. She’s crocheting me an afghan- did she tell you? We’re getting off
topic. I was hoping- and you can tell me if this is too much- that you might start to do some
oversight with the September Foundation. So I thought this might be a good place to start. See
what it’s about, at least.”

“What-?”

“I won’t make you do any of the schmoozing or the charity funding- I know you’d hate that- No,
Captain, I was thinking maybe you could be the one to pick the cases. They cull through the
applications for me. We try to fill as many as we can, each year. But I’d like you to have your
finger on the pulse.”

Steve was quiet, his mind temporarily shocked out of his original plan. Tony took his silence as a
negative. “You don’t have to do anything, Captain,” he said gently. “I thought you might like it-”

“I do,” he blurted out. “But it’s important.”

“Yes…”

Steve ran his tongue over his lip, trying to think of what the right thing to say was. He wanted to do
this for Tony, was really touched that the man would trust him with something of that nature, but
he was scared, frightened that he’d muck things up-

“You don’t have to decide right now, Cap,” Tony said, fingers fanning out to touch Steve’s face.
“Come to the gala? Please? We’ll make some appearances and then we’ll hide with a tray of hors
d'oeuvres, I promise.”

“Yes, I’ll go,” he agreed helplessly.

Tony beamed at him. “Now. What did you want to talk about?”

Steve opened his mouth. “I forgot,” he said, doing his best to sound convincing. “When’s the
gala?” he asked, trying to steer it away from himself.

“Thursday,” Tony said, frowning slightly. Steve didn’t know why. His palms sweated. “Did you
have fun with your friends?”

“Yes. Yeah, we got there eventually. Nat made her crack chicken- it’s good, don’t give me that
look- and then we did some karaoke. Played Life. It’s my favorite board game.” His ears turned
pink. Between his last boyfriend and Sharon, he felt stupid sometimes, admitting the things he
liked.

“Good. I love that you guys do that every month.”

“They said I could bring you next time. If you’d like- I don’t know if you like to play board
games,” he said, feeling the blush spread.

Tony lit up like Steve had given him some rare gift. “I don’t really know. I’ve never tried before.”

“Good god,” Steve said, grabbing his wrists and pulling him close, despite himself. “What did you
do, growing up?”

“I was in boarding schools a lot,” Tony said, smiling at his outrage. “That kind of stuff was
discouraged. You have a lot to teach me. Fair warning- I’m a problem. You saw already with the
ice skating-”

“Tony, what are we?” Steve asked, the words rushing out before he could stop himself. “You’re
my… friend?”
 The mechanic paused, surprised perhaps by the question. “Of course, we’re friends. At the very
least,” he said gravely. “I’m a little in awe of you. Hideously attracted to you. Afraid of scaring you
away. What do you want me to be?”

Steve wasn’t prepared, somehow, for the question. “I’m very attracted to you,” he admitted, his
voice dropping, “but I don’t just want to have sex with you. I’m very much in love with you and
afraid of making a fool of myself again. Scared that you’ll wake up one morning and realize that
we’re not in the same class at all. You just seem too good to be true, sometimes. What if I dreamt
you up?”

Tony pinched him; Steve gasped, swearing a little- Tony had gotten him on the ass. “Not
dreaming,” the mechanic said cheerfully. “I’m 100% real, flaws and all. But I know what you
mean. We needed each other- didn’t we? Can we really say that you came here by mistake?”

“So we’re-?”

“Let me woo you, Captain,” Tony said, his easy smile gracing his features. “Take you on some
dates. You can sample the goods. If you decide that I’m too out there for you, I’ll do whatever I
need to do to make you comfortable. Just as long as you promise that we’ll always be friends.
Sound reasonable?”

Steve felt the corners of his mouth twitch. “More than reasonable,” he agreed, his voice soft and, to
his own ears at least, adoring.

“I’m rusty, you might have to help me.”

“I have to help you woo me? Who even says woo anymore?”

“Figure out the right word and let me know. I’ll be waiting on pins and needles.”

Chapter End Notes

Posting this chapter and then won't be around to update the fic for a week. Gives
everyone time to catch up ;)
 Chapter 59
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

He felt very much wrongfooted when he came down to dinner Tuesday night and found his mother
sitting at the table between Tony and Morgan. “Ma? You didn’t move in, did you?”

“Wow, what attitude,” she said, giving him a hug. “See how he treats his mother?”

“I invited Sarah,” Tony said, his eyes flashing with amusement. “Try not to treat the guests badly,
Captain Rogers.”

“How long was I upstairs?” he asked the kids. They giggled.

“Hours-”

“Days,” Morgan corrected. “We missed you!”

“I must have been gone for longer than I expected,” Steve said, shaking out his napkin. “Momma, I
always love seeing you, but I wasn’t expecting to see you,” he said, trying to suss her out.

“This is what happens when you don’t call for weeks on end-”

“I just saw you,” he protested.

The kids were laughing at him. Tony leaned forward. “I asked your mom to dinner because she’s
doing a favor for us later. Taking the kids for the night so we can go on our date,” he added,
watching Steve with a certain amount of glee.

Steve stopped mid bite. “Date? I wasn’t aware we were going on a date tonight. Or ever.”

“See what I have to work with?” Tony said to his mother. She tutted.

“I like sleeping over your mommy’s,” Morgan told Steve, saving him from having to parse through
what this latest surprise from Tony meant. “We’re going to put our pjs on after this. I like wearing
pjs outside.” She gave her father a look. He shook his head. “You can’t wear them to school,” he
said mildly.

“Unfair-”

“Where are you going tonight?” Peter asked, glancing between his dad and Steve like they were a
tennis match he was watching.

“I have no idea, baby.”

“It’s a surprise,” Tony said, ruffling his hair.

“Where are we going tonight?” Steve asked, an hour later, when he’d changed the kids into
pajamas and packed their bags, given them kisses and thanked his mother for coming over.

“Going for a drive,” the other man said cheerfully. “I’m driving. No arguments.”

“You’re ridiculous. How can I argue if I don’t even know where we’re going. Of course you’re
driving.”

“So sassy, Captain.” Tony’s voice was fond. “I love it when you’re sassy. You’ll recognize where
we’re going eventually. Probably. I know we’ve been there before.”

“Recently?” Steve asked shrewdly.

“We’ve only known each other for half a year. Everything’s recent, depending on how you look at
it. Come on,” the other man barked cheerfully. “Hop to it. Charge. Andale. Macht schnell.”

“And I’m the feisty one?” But he followed the mechanic through the mansion and out towards the
back, grabbing their coats on the way, something Tony seemed to implicitly trust he’d do. He
stuffed his own coat between his legs at the back door, holding Tony’s coat out for him.

“And they say chivalry is dead,” Tony commented, pecking him on the cheek. He tapped a screen
on the wall, one of his latest projects. “Friday, baby girl, turn off the lights except for the kitchen
and security settings. We’ll be back. Jarvis should be home soon.”

Steve could almost hear the electricity turning off throughout the mansion. “You’re something
else,” he said, following Tony out into the night.

“Something special?” Tony’s voice was excited, young even.

“Eh,” Steve said, getting in the passenger seat.

“You wound me, Captain-”

“That’s because you’ve got this delicate ego-”

Tony surged forward, catching him in a kiss that turned his brain essentially to mush and
decimated his ability to talk. The mechanic gripped his chin, not gently but not roughly either,
holding him in place, and Steve? Steve didn’t mind that. Shutting his door with a thunk, he fisted
the collar of Tony’s coat, taking over the kiss.

“You’re bad at that,” Tony gasped at last, sitting back with a sigh. “We’re probably going to have
to practice every day to get you up to speed. I’ll make the sacrifice-”

“Buckle up, wise guy.” Steve flicked him on the forehead.

Tony just shrugged, clicking it into place. He fumbled around in the darkness, gripping Steve’s leg,
finding where he was aroused. He gave him a less than subtle squeeze. Steve inhaled sharply.
“That’s not the parking brake,” he said through his teeth.

“My mistake,” Tony said unapologetically. “Okay, let’s go.”

“You’re a menace.”

“I thought you were the menace in this partnership?”

“We take turns.”

“Very fair of us. Know where we’re going yet?” Steve threw him a look in the darkness. They’d
just barely gotten to the end of their road. Tony shrugged. “You’re so smart, baby,” he said, finding
his music and then turning the volume way down low. “I thought maybe you’d already figured it
out.”
Steve kept his eyes on the roads as they passed through them. He had an idea of where they could
be going, but he kept it to himself. Tony though- he grabbed Tony’s arm by snagging his coat
sleeve- and he maneuvered this back over so that Tony was touching him again. “I liked it,” he said
defensively.

“No complaints from me,” Tony said immediately. He worked the tips of his fingers over the
impression, occasionally applying pressure. It didn’t seem to distract him from his driving at all.
“Feel good, baby?”

“Mm, almost too good,” Steve said, the darkness of the car letting him say things he would never
have said looking Tony in the eye. “If you keep this up, I’m going to come in my pants.”

“And that’s bad because?”

“You should know as well as anyone how gross that can be after a while,” Steve said, stilling
Tony’s hand.

“Take it out then?”

“And what, jizz on the dash?”

“Shit-”

Luckily or unluckily, they’d apparently reached their destination. Tony slipped his hand away,
looking at Steve when the light came on. “For what it’s worth, nothing’s hotter than the idea of
you-”

“Get out,” Steve said, opening his own door and clambering out. He’d been right- Tony had taken
him back to his parent’s mansion. He stepped closer, looking up at the house, which was lit up.
“You always bring dates to your parents’ house for early romance adventures?”

“Well, they’re out so luckily you don’t have to meet the parents,” Tony said drily. “Come on,
Captain. I had a theory. Hold my hand?”

He took the other man’s hand, feeling like something was happening that he didn’t understand.
Tony led him up the front steps and unlocked the door, this massive piece of wood that stretched
feet above even Steve’s head. “Now I’d offer to carry you over the threshold, but I’d probably
throw my back out, big boy,” Tony teased.

Steve scoffed at him. Tony tugged on his hand, pulling him into the mansion. “So this,” he said,
“is the front parlor and one important thing to know about tonight is that I hated living in 90% of
this house.”

Steve had been gazing up at the ceiling, looking at the architectural detailing. He spun on his heel.
“What?”

“Big house. Kind of lonely. I was here alone a lot.”

“They left you alone-? You were a baby.”

“I had Ana and Jarvis here. Also, pretty sure your definition of ‘baby’ and my parents definitely
varied wildly from each other.”

He hummed. That made sense. Tony had told him that his childhood had been less than ideal, but
he hadn’t realized until this moment what that must have looked like. He thought of his crowded
 little childhood house, his father always nearby- working in the backyard or building in the garage-
and his mom, painting in the front room which got the best light. “So you brought me here,
because…”

“I would have given anything to grow up next door to say, Steve Rogers of Brooklyn, just off the
top of my head. Allow me to point out the reasons why.” And he pulled on their intertwined
fingers, leading him to a little room off the front hall.

“Want to make out in my childhood bedroom?” Tony added, waggling his eyebrows at him.

“Tony-”

“Yes? No?”

“...After you show me the rest of the house.”

Tony punched the air.

Chapter End Notes

Back to your scheduled programming...

 Chapter 60

“You’re going to a party with Daddy?”

“Without us?” Morgan added, propping her head on her arm.

Steve leaned against the railings of the staircase, looking through them at the kids. “This one’s late
at night. We’d have brought you if we could have. But I think it’s going to be boring,” he added in
a conspiratorial whisper.

“I don’t like big parties,” Peter said. “Will you bring us back snacks?”

“Are you going to dance?”

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to bring you snacks. And probably no dancing.”

“Wow, this does sound boring,” Morgan said in surprise.

“See I told you.”

There was a sound at the top of the stairs. Mr. Stark appeared, dressed in his tux. He cocked his
head, looking down at them- the kids on one side of the rails, Steve on the other. “Planning a
prison break?” he asked, jogging down the stairs. Peter laughed; Morgan groaned. “You’re so
lame, Daddy,” she said.

“Wow, already. And I was so young,” he joked drily, sitting down on the stairs behind them. “Why
the dramatic location?”

“We like being taller than Steve.”

“What a coincidence, me too. We Starks don’t get that chance very often.”

The door opened. “Mrs. Rogers is here,” Jarvis announced. The kids got up, tumbling down the
stairs. Steve reached through the railing, trying to slow them down, but they were already at the
bottom, hugging his mother. “Hi, Momma,” he called, following the spiral of the stairs.

“Oh, Steve, you’re so handsome-”

He sighed, giving Tony a look of exasperation, but Tony was grinning at him. “Isn’t he? I’ll be the
envy of the night.”

“We’re just going as friends,” Steve clarified.

“That’s right,” Tony agreed, reaching the first floor and standing on his toes to fix Steve’s bowtie.
“Besties,” he told Morgan. She laughed at him.

“Will you wake me up when you get back?” she asked.

“No, baby, it’s a school night.”

“Bye, Momma,” he said, catching her shoulder and squeezing her. “Be good, kids. I’ll see you in
the morning-” Tony was following in his wake, giving the rest of the family a perfunctory royal
wave, making Steve’s mom twitter and swat at him. He held out the shorter man’s coat, slipping it
on.
They were out on the curb and under the stars. Steve breathed in, trying to store some extra calm
inside himself now before they got there. “You okay?” Tony asked.

He didn’t trust himself to speak. He nodded thickly instead. “Why are you bringing sunglasses?” he
asked finally, cause Tony had a pair of them tucked into his suit.

“Hides my eyes. Sometimes I get overwhelmed by these things. There’s Happy-” He flagged the
limousine down, holding the door for Steve to get in first. They said their hellos to the driver;
Steve would have made small talk with the man, but he knew by now that Happy had shows he
was listening to and probably would prefer that to Steve’s nervous chatter. Somehow, knowing that
Tony was anxious about this event too made Steve feel marginally better. He felt part of his brain
switch over from worrying about what he was going to do to taking care of someone else.

“So you wanted me to come because…?”

Tony squeezed his hand. “When I get overwhelmed I’m going to be looking for the one face in the
crowd that always calms me down.”

“Pepper?” Steve guessed.

“You make romance so difficult,” Tony complained, swatting him. “Hap,” he said, opening up the
divider, “drop us off in the back of the hotel, yeah? Steve doesn’t live off the attention like I do.”

“That’s because he’s not an egotistical prick,” the driver said back. Tony laughed as he shut the
divider.

“I should warn you, Obie’s likely going to be at this event.”

Steve’s stomach twisted into even more knots. “Didn’t he just spend the last week bashing you and
calling you crazy?”

“Yeah, but that won’t stop him. You know lately I’ve been looking into separating from Obie. He
was my father’s partner- I’ve always tolerated him. He was something of a mentor, I guess you
could say. But I found out recently that he’s been selling our weaponry to some black listed
organizations. That’s the last thing I want.”

Strangely this conversation was clearing Steve’s head in a way nothing else tonight had. “How can
you get rid of him?”

“On the downlow, I’m collecting evidence of his deceptiveness. Have to be strategic with Obie.
He’s always playing to win.”

Steve wondered at that moment if there was an ulterior motive to him being at the gala tonight. He
gulped as they pulled around to the back of the hotel, catching the flashes of cameras in the front as
they avoided it. “How are we playing this off?” he asked, taking Tony’s hand as the mechanic
helped him out of the car.

“How do you want to play this?” Mr. Stark asked neutrally, slipping his tinted glasses on.

“Let’s just go with the truth,” Steve said nervously, smoothing down the front of his blue blazer.
“I’m the nanny.”

The engineer gave him a sidelong glance. “Alright, Captain.”

They strode down an endless hallway, Steve keeping a careful distance from his employer, fighting
the urge to shove his hands in his pockets. Steve was captivated by the high ceilings and the
architectural detailing; he would have liked to take his sketchbook out and try to capture some of it,
but he’d left his sketchbook at home and they were approaching a swarm of people near the front
doors.

At the last moment, Tony cut to the left, heading away from the crowd and towards a ballroom full
of circular tables. “Ready or not, here we are,” he murmured.

“Stark! Look at you, you old dog-”

“Mr. Ellings,” Tony said smoothly. “How are you?”

“Fine, fine, and who’s this?” The old man had just caught sight of Steve, following in Tony’s
wake.

Tony pivoted just slightly on his heel. “This is Captain Steve Rogers. Former Marine. Current
nanny. He’s my companion for the evening.”

“Marine to nanny, that’s not the typical career trajectory,” the old man said, shaking Steve’s hand.
Steve felt himself tense up, raring himself up to explain, to justify- “Stark’s never done anything by
the books,” the old codger laughed. “Bet you feel safer, having the little ones looked after by this
strapping young man.”

Mr. Stark was smiling now. “That’s the idea,” he agreed. “Want to see the kids? I have about ten
million photos on my phone.”

“Of course, I do-”

There was a hand on Steve’s arm, startling him. “Just me,” Pepper said apologetically. “So Tony
managed to get you here, after all.”

“Was I a flight risk?” he asked, trying for a joke.

“Tony really wanted you here. I thought you might be anxious at this kind of thing,” she said, her
tone as smooth and nonjudgmental as always. “Want to meet Tony’s best friend?”

“According to Tony, tonight I’m his best friend,” he advised her, but he let her lead him away from
where Tony was talking animatedly to the old Mr. Ellings and an elderly woman who looked like
she was possibly older than his own mother.

“Don’t tell Rhodey that,” she advised with a little laugh. “He’s sensitive enough about the time he
spends away from Tony- here-”

She brought him to a black man in full military dress uniform. Steve felt the gears in his head go
grinding to a halt. Tony had somehow failed to mention that his best friend was a lieutenant
colonel, two ranks above what Steve had been when he’d finished with the Marines. He felt some
of his military training sneaking back in, forcing him to think about his posture, how long his hair
was these days, fuck-

“Rhodey,” she called. “Come meet Tony’s Steve.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Tony said, barging in from nowhere. “Nobody’s introducing my best friend and
my best,” he glanced at Steve, “nanny, except me. Come on, Captain. Honeybear, meet my honey.
Honey, Honeybear.”
The only comforting thing was that Lieutenant Colonel Rhodes looked just as startled as Steve did
by this introduction.
 Chapter 61
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

The man’s tone was dry, his eyes speculative. “So, you’re… Steve Rogers. Tony’s nanny slash…
honey.”

Steve could feel himself beginning to blush and willed himself to stand up straight. He didn’t like
the other man’s tone. “I’m the nanny,” he agreed diplomatically. “He’s joking about ‘honey.’
Really.” Tony looked at him, but didn’t say anything in the positive or the negative to support his
claim.

Tony’s friend seemed to be sizing him up. “And you’ve been working for him since-?”

“August,” he said, wondering if it had been this hard for Tony to meet his friends. James Rhodes
was intimidating. He guessed Bucky could be intimidating when he wanted to be. And he was
protective. Natasha could murder a man and get away with it. But this was different. Tony had a
backbone. He didn’t.

“Five months,” the other man hummed, his eyes seeming to pick Steve apart. “Tony hasn’t scared
you away yet.”

“Steve’s hard to scare. He was in the Marines as well, Honeybear.”

“Were you?” Rhodey made a quizzical look at the top of his head. His hair. He’d grown his hair
out. Steve swallowed. Suddenly that feeling of being uncomfortable in his own skin had come back
with a vengeance. His skin felt itchy. “I haven’t been in the Marines since three years ago.”

“Once a Marine, always a Marine.”

Steve was bursting to say that he had plenty of reasons why he was done being a Marine- period-
but he held it in. The other man’s attitude wasn’t unfamiliar. He sensed that the man was sounding
him out, perhaps deliberately pushing buttons to see what Steve’s reaction would be. “Semper fi,”
he agreed mildly.

“You were enlisted?”

“A captain,” he corrected. “I was a captain when I was discharged. Honorably,” he added stiffly.

“Well, Captain Rogers, why the sudden shift into childcare?”

“I had another job. I encountered Mr. Stark and he needed help. We tried it out. I like it,” he said
softly. He’d answer any question this man asked. He already knew that about himself. Years of
military training had conditioned him to answer men of a higher rank, but the part of him that had
stopped being a Marine, that night, that part was questioning why- Why obey? Why give in?

‘Because that’s what you do,’ his mind supplied. ‘You give in. Coward.’ He felt his shoulders
falter; Steve wanted out of this conversation- yesterday. This was why he avoided most military
men. Bucky and Sam were different. They were queer. They got it.

Tony wasn’t paying attention to the conversation. Not the tone at least. “Steve’s a wizard with the
kids.”
“How are they?” Rhodey looked at the mechanic, his attention finally diverted from Steve
apparently. Steve tried to subtly regulate his breathing. He was losing his fight. And this was
Tony’s friend-

“They’re getting big. Steve takes good care of them. We’re taking swim lessons, they do karate,
dance, go to museums… We think Peter’s his favorite,” he joked, jerking his head at Steve. Steve
protested, raising a hand. Tony’s attempt at levity was lost on him right now; he felt like he
couldn’t breathe. “Honeybear, you haven’t seen the kids in half a year. They’re not going to know
who you are, at this rate.”

“Well, that’s not true at all,” the other man objected, turning away from Steve and pulling Tony
away.

Steve exhaled, stepping back forcefully and colliding with Pepper. His hand shot out to hold her
upright; he steadied her, feeling as dumb as he ever had. “Sorry. Stupid klutz,” he said lowly.

“It’s not you,” Pepper said, more gently than she usually would. “Rhodey’s protective of Tony.”

“Is that why he was interrogating me? I’m a man that takes care of children. What do people think
dads do?”

“Rhodey’s not sexist, he just thinks…” She trailed off.

Steve huffed, feeling unimpressed. “He thinks I’m diddling Tony for his money. Well, he’s not the
first to think I’m taking advantage of Tony…”

But Steve couldn’t help but feel a little hurt, isolated and thrown off by how dismissive the other
military man had seemed. It brought back old feelings- brought back how he’d felt at the court
martial trial, the way his fellow soldiers wouldn’t look him in the eye. He’d ended up feeling like
less of a person anyways.

And Tony’s best friend…he hadn’t seemed to like Steve too much. He wondered what Tony had
told the man about him. He felt the doubts creep back in. Steve felt diminished.

Wandering over to the silent auction, he looked over the items on offer without really seeing them.
“Are you bidding on this painting?” a voice at his side asked. He startled, stepping back as a
formidable looking woman appeared by his side. “Sorry, no, I’ll get out of your way,” he said,
taking another step back.

“You’re not in my way, you were just looking at it with such concentration, I thought you might
know more than the rest of us about it-”

He forced himself to smile, shaking his head- no. Feeling foolish, he introduced himself hastily.
She gave him a piercing look when he said he was the Stark nanny- really, he wasn’t meant to be
here. Thankfully, she said nothing about it. “Tony Stark must really value your companionship,”
she said briskly, releasing him at last.

He nodded, glad to escape. Others were talking about him, about Tony, some favorable, some not.
Was this what it would be like? He made small talk with three others, as he came across them,
feeling like his suit was shrinking around him, or was his chest expanding? Either way, it felt like
he couldn’t breathe.

He stepped out onto a balcony attached to the room, breathing in the fresh air with relief. He ran
his thumb over the arc reactor in his pocket.
Making his way over to the railing, he looked out at the dark water below. He forced himself to
take another deep breath. He could do this. He just had to suck it up, make some polite
conversation, try not to draw too much attention to himself, maybe hide at some point, and then
Tony would make his speech and with a little luck, they could go-

“Here you are-” Tony had found him. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice dry even to his own ears. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Liar.” Tony came to stand beside him, bumping shoulders. “Steve, it’s 30 degrees out. We need to
go back inside. Look at your hands.”

Steve glanced down. His hands, clutching the railing, had turned pink; he hadn’t even noticed they
were cold. “Just needed some fresh air,” he managed.

“Well, you got it. Please come in. Do we need to go home? Want to?”

Steve shook his head violently. He wasn’t going to be the one to ruin this night. “I’m fine,” he
insisted. Tony was depending on him.

“Hey, listen,” Tony said, as they ducked back into the ballroom. “I told Rhodey he was acting like
an asshole.” Steve felt a flash of panic. He opened his mouth to object. Tony shook a finger at him.
“He was. I told him to cool it with the third degree.”

They stepped back into the ballroom, Steve shoving his hands into his suit pockets. “Listen,” Tony
began quietly, but Steve shook his head. “Everything’s fine, Tony. Really.” He offered him a
smile.

“You’re not having fun. I shouldn’t have made you do this.”

Steve shook his head. “It’s better when you’re with me,” he disagreed. “Let’s… let’s look at the
silent auction. I didn’t really look before.”

“I’m not ashamed of you, you know,” Tony said quietly, his shoulder brushing against Steve’s.
“People acting like being a nanny is something lesser? They have no fucking clue how hard you
work. And you? You’re better than me.”

Steve felt his stomach swoop despite himself. “As long as you don’t think less of me, what do I
care about the others?”

“Rhodey’s going to come over tomorrow evening. I think it’ll be better in a different environment.”
Steve winced despite himself.

“Good,” he said quietly.

Tony snagged his hand, dragging it out of his pocket. He tangled his fingers around Steve’s hand,
pulling it against his chest. He waited for Steve to look him in the face. Steve did so, very
reluctantly. “Ashamed of me?” he asked carefully.

“Of course not-”

“Sliding back into the closet?”

“No-”

“Think that others think differently of me because I’m here with you?” Steve swallowed. Tony
 hummed, his eyes imperceptible behind his tinted glasses. “And that matters to you?”

“No, Tony, it’s just-”

“Tony!” Steve swallowed down a sigh at this latest interruption but a moment later his danger
senses were pinging. A man, taller even than him, was approaching. Light was glinting off his bald
head. He was leering at Tony. Steve felt an urge to move in front of the mechanic, to protect him.
This had to be-

“Obie,” Tony’s voice was flat. “Imagine running into you.”

The tall man glanced from Tony to Steve, his eyes lingering on their joined hands. Tony squeezed
his hand, but didn’t let go. “And who is this?” he asked, his voice soft, predatory. “Don’t tell me.
This is the hired help that has you running home every night.”

Steve inhaled. Something about this man felt much worse than anyone else had this night. He
squeezed Tony’s hand back. “We’re friends. And you are-?”

“Obadiah Stane. Hasn’t Tony told you about me? I’m shocked, my boy. I’d think with all the time
you spend together it might have come up.”

“I save my time at home for talking about important things, Obie.” Tony flashed a smile at the
other man, the smile not reaching his eyes. “Gotta give my speech. Come on, Steve. I’ll show you
where we’re sitting.”

Chapter End Notes

I swear I do like Rhodey! He and Steve just misunderstand each other... a lot. Lol
 Chapter 62

“I’m sorry,” Tony said. “Galas get me nervous. I was pushing you, tonight.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. I promised I’d never do that to you.”

Steve looked up. He smiled, and here, away from the lights and the pressing of the crowd, it was
much easier. “I’m not delicate, Tony.”

“You had this look,” Tony said, gesturing towards his own face, “in your eyes. I don’t ever want to
put that look there. Like you were trapped.”

Steve bit his tongue. He’d always been expressive; his face betrayed him despite his best efforts.
“Your business partner gives me the creeps. He reminds me of the man who raped me.” He didn’t
know where that had come from or why he’d said that. Tony looked at him, his expression pained.
“Just- predatory. I wasn’t afraid. He just makes me uncomfortable. That’s all.”

“I’m sorry.”

Steve shook his head. None of tonight had been Tony’s fault; he didn’t have control over other
people. “I liked your speech. I didn’t know those things about your mom.”

They lapsed into silence. Steve didn’t like whatever the energy was between them right now. He
swallowed, glancing at his right. Tony was looking out the window, his hands balled into loose
fists.

He glanced at the front of the limo. The privacy divider was closed; they were stuck in traffic.
Steve chewed on his lip. “Make tonight better,” he said in a low voice. Tony looked at him,
startled. “Kiss me.”

“I’d have thought you’d be mad at me. I unnecessarily traumatized you. That isn’t usually part of
my wooing process.”

Steve shook his head at the continued use of the word ‘woo.’ He grabbed Tony by the neck,
pulling him close. “Tonight was a drag,” he admitted. “Let’s not let it continue that way.”

Tony stopped his hand though, when he began to grope him through his suit- He broke away,
looking at the mechanic, feeling hurt and bewildered and more than a little foolish. “I want the
things you’re talking about,” the man gasped. “But not like this. You didn’t have fun tonight- and
I’m sorry about that.” He stroked Steve’s face. “I want sex to be fun for you. I want our friendship
to be as important as our romance. So I don’t think we should-”

“You don’t want me to touch you?” Steve asked, hating himself because his voice wobbled.

“Oh, Captain, honey.” Tony’s hand locked on Steve’s wrist. “I always want you touching me. But I
don’t want it to be because you think you have something to prove. I want you to want it because
you want it. Do you?”

Steve inhaled. “Yes.”

“Do you not like PDA?” Tony asked next. “You didn’t want me to touch you when we were
there.”

“It’s been a very long time since someone touched me because they loved me romantically,” Steve
admitted, his ears heating up. “I’m not used to it. And-” He bit his tongue. “In the military… we
weren’t exactly supposed to be open about that kind of thing. The first half of my military career
was under Don’t Ask Don’t Tell. Being openly gay could get you discharged.”

“We’re not in the military anymore though, even if I call you ‘captain,’ Captain.” Tony’s tone was
mildly teasing, but Steve’s stomach cramped. He’d ruined things now- made a mess of it before it
even started. “Hey- look at me-”

He looked up unwillingly. Tony was watching him. “I just want to understand,” he said. “You like
it when I touch you when we’re out of sight. But you don’t want it in public?”

“Your best friend hates me,” Steve said softly. Tony started to object, but Steve put up a hand. “He
doesn’t trust me,” he amended. “He heard that I’m the man living in your household, supposedly
taking care of your kids, and he couldn’t understand what that really meant. If your best friend
thinks the worst of me, what do you think everyone else thinks of me? Of you?”

Tony was quiet. “Rhodey doesn’t hate you,” he said at last. “Before I married my wife, I dated
some bad choices.” He seemed to be chewing on the inside of his cheek. “After my parents died, I
spiraled downward for a while. Had a fair amount of sex. Did some bad drugs. Stuff I wouldn’t
want the kids to know about. Stuff I haven’t really wanted you to know about. I didn’t really like
myself.”

Steve was trying to make sense of what Tony was telling him. “You’re saying that Rhodey thinks
you’re spiraling again. And I’m your bad choice this time.”

“I don’t know. I’m going to talk to him about it before he comes over tomorrow. And even if that
is what he believes- that’s not what you are. Not to me. Not to anyone. You, Steve Rogers, you’re
a fucking delight. My ray of sunshine. My heart. You know that?”

Steve’s chest felt tight. What if he couldn’t be all the things that Tony deserved? “I say all the
wrong things at the wrong times,” Steve said. “I’m not good at romance anymore. Maybe I never
was. I do love you very much. I’m afraid I’ll mess up.”

There was a rapping on the divider. Happy opened the divider. “Back home, boss,” he said.

“So we are,” Tony said, looking out the window in surprise. “Hey, Hap- God, I love you, bud.
Take the rest of the week off. You want to come to lunch with me and Rhodey tomorrow?”

“Are you paying?”

“Of course, I’m paying,” Tony scoffed. He rested a hand on Steve’s thigh, running his fingers
down the inseam of Steve’s suit pants. Steve grabbed his hand with a suppressed groan. He
situated the hand up a little more and Tony gave him a little squeeze. He finished his conversation
with Happy- Steve said goodnight- and they were out.

Tony drew him close, stopping him from entering the mansion; Steve hung back, surprised but
intrigued. “I’m sorry tonight was such a disaster,” he said. It was starting to snow out. Flakes were
landing in the mechanic’s hair, but he took no notice. “You think you’re bad at romance. You think
you’re going to fuck things up. That’s your brain playing tricks on you, Captain.”

Steve explored his face, looking for telltale signs of lying. There weren’t any. “It feels real,” he
said.
“Of course it does. My mind beats me up too. But nobody can be bad at romance. Especially not
you. You’re naturally affectionate. You make everyone feel special. Thanks for answering all my
questions tonight.”

Steve nodded, mute. He pushed closer to Tony until they were chest to chest. By dipping his head,
he was able to brush his lips against the mechanic’s. “I really like you,” he said. “You put up with
all my crazy. Make me feel whole again. I’m afraid of losing you.”

“I’d be a fool to let you get away-”

He shivered, snowflakes finding their way down his collar now. “Come on,” he said. “Time to tuck
in for the night.”

“Aye, aye, captain.”

He was surprised to find the lights still on in the living room and front hall, but there was his mom,
propped up on the couch pillows, making soft sleep sounds. He took off Tony’s jacket and hung it
up.

“I hope she wasn’t waiting up for us,” Tony said, sounding guilty. “I kept you out late on a school
night.”

“Nah, I told her specifically not to. Didn’t know when we’d get back.” ‘Thought tonight would end
differently than it did,’ he added mentally, rueful of their latest lost opportunity. Of what he’d
wanted to do originally. “She must have fallen asleep.” He circled the couch, prying the book out
of her hands and marking the page. He bent over her. “Momma. Ma, wake up.” He gave her a little
shake.

“Oh, you’re back,” she said faintly. “Did I fall asleep?”

“On the couch. Do you want me to carry you upstairs?”

That got her attention. He’d known it would. “Are you crazy? No.” She used his shoulders to pull
herself up. “Where’s Tony?”

“I’m right here,” he said, appearing on the other side of the couch. He leaned against it, grinning at
her. “Hey, beautiful.”

“Don’t hit on my mother-”

“Tony can call me beautiful if he wants. He’s not blind.” She leaned heavily on Steve, sighing.
“Did you boys have fun?”

“Lots of fun,” he agreed. There had been some fun parts. She didn’t need to know what a disaster
half of it had been. “How was your night?” He lifted her to her feet.

“Lots of fun,” she echoed. “Give me a kiss.”

He held her, swaying like they were dancing. “Thanks for coming over,” he said. “The kids really
love seeing you.”

“They do,” Tony agreed, holding out an arm rather hopefully. He positively beamed when she
caught him up in an embrace. Steve wondered sometimes how touch starved Tony was- he seemed
to absolutely bask in his mother’s warmth. “See you at breakfast,” Tony commented. “We can let
you sleep in if you’d prefer.”
“I want to see them off to school with Steve.” She gave him an extra kiss and was gone.

“You tired, Captain?”

“Not enough to sleep yet.”

Tony hummed. He slipped out of his suit jacket, draping it over the couch. Steve watched him
removing his cufflinks. “Can I give you a massage?” he asked, surprising the captain. “Since
you’re not sleepy? I like working with my hands. And I feel I owe you.”

Steve blinked. “Yes… Where?”

“Up in my room? So we won’t keep your mom up. I’m sure you want some space afterwards- You
tell me when you want to go to bed.”

Steve wasn’t sure he had earned a massage- his performance tonight had been overall rough, but he
did like the idea of Tony touching him. And his feet hurt from standing all day. “Okay,” he agreed.
“Lead the way.”
 Chapter 63

They hadn’t said a word after they’d gone upstairs, Steve laying down on the king size bed face
down and Tony sitting beside him, slowly working his way over the captain’s tense muscle groups.
Steve angled his face away from the mechanic so that Tony couldn’t see his eyes leaking.
‘Foolish,’ he thought unhappily. The wash of emotions from the day were overwhelming. He
didn’t even know why he was upset.

“Better?” Tony asked at the end.

He cleared his throat. “Yes, much. Listen… can’t wake up in the boss’s bed,” he said, trying to
inject levity into what he was saying, but judging from Tony’s face, failing. “It won’t help my
reputation,” he said softly. “As your bed hopping nanny.”

“I understand,” Tony said. “Let me help get you up-”

Steve leaned against him, tucking his face into the crook of Tony’s neck. “Sorry,” he said finally.
“Sorry about everything.”

“Just a bad day,” Tony said mildly. He rubbed Steve’s back briskly as if he could scare away the
bad feeling that had settled in his chest. “Promise you won’t hold it against me?”

“Never.”

“Then I release you back to your own bedroom. Sleep tight, honey.”

And he’d felt a little lost in it all. Squeezing Tony’s hand, he’d walked back up to his room, pulling
his phone out to message Natasha. He fell asleep telling her what a disaster the night had been…

So he’d woken up the next day, he and his mom had taken the kids to school and then he’d brought
her to a little cafe. He’d brought the kids to the local trampoline park after school, chasing them
over the bouncy surfaces and making them laugh. All three of them had liked it when he jumped
with both of them in his arms, their combined weight causing them to rise high in the air. Their
giggles had made him feel light again.

By the time they’d changed into their regular socks and shoes, Steve had forgotten about their
plans for company.

“Daddy, we flew,” Morgan yelled, busting into the dining room. Steve could hear her chattering
from the entranceway.

“You flew? How?”

“Go ahead, baby bear,” he said, gesturing for Pete to follow her. “I’m just hanging up our coats. I
know you want to talk to Daddy.”

“I do,” Pete said, but he lingered.

Steve got on his knees, drawing Pete close. “You don’t have to worry about me,” he promised,
pecking Pete on the lips. “I’ll be right behind you. Tell Daddy about your flip-”

“Okay!” And Pete darted off.

Steve stashed all three of their coats in the front hall closet, noticing that Happy’s bomber jacket
was still here. He vaguely remembered Tony talking to his friend slash bodyguard (and seriously
Tony? What was it with him making friends and then employing them immediately?) and he
wondered if the ex-boxer was still here now.

It was only when he noticed another jacket in the closet that he stiffened. It all came back. “Oh no,
Tony,” he whispered. He’d forgotten.

He made his way down to the dining room, feeling his stomach already beginning to knot itself
when he heard the different cadences of voices coming out into the hall. “Sorry, we’re late, Mr.
Stark,” he said quietly, finding Tony sitting with the kids on each knee.

Tony flicked a look up at him, surprised perhaps at the return to his old moniker. “It’s alright,
Captain,” he said agreeably. “The kids were telling me how much fun they had.”

“Hi, Happy,” Steve said, putting a hand on his shoulder while he made his way around the table to
his usual chair. “Colonel.”

Morgan dashed around to take her usual seat next to him. “Steve, I’m hungry.”

“You burned a lot of calories jumping.” He hoped he wouldn’t have to lead the conversation
tonight. Why were they still here? He’d thought lunch would be enough. Tony seemed to know
what he was thinking, somehow. “You guys remember Uncle Rhodey, don’t you? He’s been away
so long maybe you don’t-”

“Don’t tease, Tony,” the other man said.

“You’re Daddy’s friend,” Morgan said. “Like Steve!”

Steve shoved a bite of chicken in his mouth so that he wouldn’t be expected to add to that. Pete
was watching him. The toddler looked over at the man sitting in between them. “Happy, are you
and Daddy watching the fighting tonight?”

“There’s no boxing match tonight, bud,” the other man said gruffly. “Dad’s promised me dessert.”

“Do we get to eat dessert?” Morgan asked, leaning on the table. She speared a carrot, offering it to
Steve. Steve dipped his head and let her poke it into his mouth. “I want dessert,” she told Steve.

“You have to eat your veggies first,” he said gently.

“Not just feed them to Steve. Though I know you enjoy doing that,” Tony added, his eyes bright
and flashing.

They moved into the living room after dinner, Tony holding Morgan’s hand and talking
animatedly. Steve hung back, helping to clear the table so that there was less for Jarvis to do. He
found them situated on the couches when he followed them in at last.

“Captain! Sit here,” Tony said, pointing to the armchair closest to where he was.

Morgan seemed amiable enough to talking to Rhodey and Happy, always happy for an audience,
but Pete seemed to have picked up on Steve’s discomfort, despite his best efforts. He crawled into
Steve’s lap, leaning on him.

“Hey, pumpkin,” Steve said softly.

Peter cupped his face with his little hands. “Are you okay?” he whispered, apparently mimicking
how Steve talked. Steve had to smile at that. “I’m okay,” he agreed, giving Peter a big hug. “Sweet
boy. I love you.”

Looking up, he found James Rhodes looking at him. They both looked away at the same time.

When it was time for the kids to go to bed, Tony offered to bring them up. Steve waved a finger.
“I’m still on the clock, Mr. Stark,” he said.

“Alright, Captain,” Tony said. He sounded a little crestfallen. “Come back and join us afterwards?”

He slid Peter down to the floor, giving him a little push towards the other end of the room. “I don’t
really think I’m needed-”

“But you’re wanted,” Tony interjected.

Steve blinked. He felt more than a little unhappy at this; he’d been hoping to make his escape once
the babies were in bed. Tonight had been uncomfortable. “Alright,” he said softly. “Go give Daddy
a kiss,” he told Peter.

He took their hands on the stairs, leading them upstairs where it was quiet and the air seemed more
breathable. They’d gotten off on the wrong track, he knew, and it was as much on him to rebuild as
it was for the other man. Still… “Let’s get you in your pjs, babies,” he said, injecting cheerfulness
into his voice.

“Uncle Rhodey’s going to be here the whole weekend,” Morgan gossiped. She let him unbuckle
her overalls and walked out of them, trailing a shirt in her wake.

“That’ll be fun,” he said.

“Are you worried?” Peter asked. “I don’t love Uncle Rhodey more than you. You’re our Steve.”

“No, no, baby… I want you to have lots of fun this weekend so you can tell me all about it when I
come back.”

“Uncle Rhodey can be funny,” Pete whispered.

“Is he?” Steve couldn’t picture it. Peter nodded. “Okay. Good to know.”

“Do you have to go away the whole weekend?” Morgan asked next, holding up her arms. He
slipped her night dress over her head. He nodded. He’d never looked forward to his weekend as
much as he was right now.

“Actually, I’m going to leave a little earlier in the morning,” he said, because the idea was
definitely in his head now. He’d call Natasha or he’d break into Sam and Bucky’s place, but he felt
like tonight’s scrutiny had been enough. The colonel had tried to draw him into probing
conversation several times throughout dinner, but remembering the gala had been enough for Steve
to keep his answers polite and clipped.

He stayed with them for as long as he dared, bringing them to the bathroom and then having them
brush their teeth, working through their bedtime routine down to storytime. “Daddy’s got to come
up too,” Morgan told him when he picked her up at last to move her to her own bed. Peter nodded.

“I’ll get him,” he said reluctantly because it wasn’t about him. It was about the kids. “Okay…”

He made his way down the front staircase slowly. Tony had been telling a story, but he looked up
when Steve came down, his expression lighting up. “All set, Captain?”

“They want one last kiss from you,” Steve said helplessly.

“Okay. I’ll be right back.”

Happy chose that moment to get up as well. “I’ll come say goodbye to the squirts, Tony, and then
I’m going to bed. I spend more time with you on my days off than I do when I work with you.”

“Good,” the mechanic joked. Steve could hear them trading barbs as they went upstairs. He
sighed, squaring his shoulders. “Did you have a good day with Mr. Stark?” he asked the other man.

“It’s always interesting with Tony,” Rhodes said. “A mix of him catching up and telling me off, all
in one.”

Steve’s eyebrows quirked at that but he could suppress his curiosity, something he wasn’t sure the
mechanic was capable of. “Oh?” he said mildly. “I should-”

“The kids do love you. Tony was right.”

He didn’t know what to say to that. It wasn’t what he’d expected the other man to say. “I like being
their nanny,” he said defensively. “I know it’s not the most masculine of jobs but I’m good at it.”

“He said that too. That you were good at it.”

“So now you know everything about me?” he asked, forcing his tone to remain light.

“Seems like it. He waxed poetic on your eyes alone, through the appetizers. Happy seems resigned
to it. He’s been taking it on the chin in my absence.”

Steve glanced up. There was something almost jocular in the man’s dry tone, but he didn’t know
this man- couldn’t be sure. “He’s my employer. You know him. He likes to tease. It doesn’t mean
anything.”

“That’s bullshit.”

Steve looked up, glare well in place now. “You don’t know anything about me,” he accused.
“Everything you know you read in some gossip rag, but that doesn’t make it true.”

“Listen, I understand that I gave you the third degree yesterday and that’s on me- I’m sorry, but
you don’t know how many people have tried to get close to Tony over the years just for his money
or to harm him-”

“Not me.”

“Maybe not, but he’s still getting raked over the coals by his recent change of heart- which doesn’t
exactly help the military, by the way- so the last thing he needs is another scandal-”

“I’m not making a scandal, Colonel, I’m doing my job-”

As Steve got more agitated, James Rhodes seemed to grow calmer. He felt like he was in the army
again. He didn’t like it. The colonel leaned forward. “Listen, I’m not accusing you of anything. If
you want to have an affair with Tony, fine. He’s a big boy. But don’t hurt him.”

“What is it you think I want from him?” Steve asked, his voice low, his thoughts dangerous.
The colonel shrugged, his face passive. He must make a great commander, Steve thought bitterly.
“Most people have wanted money or sex from him in the past. He’s vulnerable.”

“Well, I want money in that I want my paychecks to come in on time. So far they have.”

“And since we’re having this refreshingly honest heart to heart- sex?”

He looked up at the colonel. “Mr. Stark didn’t tell you,” he realized.

“Tell me what?”

“What happened to me…” He trailed off. This wasn’t something he liked talking about in general,
let alone to a near stranger who still was wearing a military uniform. He decided he wouldn’t. It
wouldn’t impress James Rhodes. And despite everything, he still wanted Tony’s friend to like him.
His best friend. So he had to make a good impression. “We’re not having sex,” he said bluntly.
“Not yet. Maybe not ever. That’s really our business.”

“Alright,” the other man agreed. Steve was completely thrown off now. “Alright?” he asked,
incredulous despite himself.

“I believe you,” the other man said. “For what it’s worth, I don’t care if you guys are knocking
boots. There’s a leak in his organization and it didn’t start until you started working for him. So it
made sense that it could be you. Even you have to admit that. I made a mistake.”

He spread his hands wide, feeling his Irish temper rise. ‘Don’t give in to it,’ he warned himself. “I
don’t know anything about his company. I barely understand what Tony talks about and we talk
nearly every night.”

There was a sound by the stairs. Tony and Happy had come back down. Tony’s eyes swept
between Rhodey and Steve, perched at opposite ends of the coffee table in obvious tension.
“What’s going on?”
 Chapter 64
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

“We were discussing the possibility of you and I having sex,” Steve said tightly, getting to his feet.

Happy winced from his spot behind Tony. “That’s it, I’m going home,” he said. “Goodnight
everyone- don’t leave a mess for Jarvis to clean up-” And he was gone before they could say boo.

Tony was frowning. “I thought you were going to apologize,” he said to Rhodey.

“That was the plan. Things may have gotten… off course.”

“Off course how?” Tony asked, rather sharply. “You two look like you’d like to take a few rounds
in the ring.”

“Your boyfriend probably would enjoy that,” Rhodey said lightly. “He’s feisty, Tony.”

“Nanny,” Steve all but snarled. “I’m the nanny. We’re not dating.”

“Yet,” Tony interjected mildly. “Yet, but I would definitely like to, so please don’t tell me that you
spent the whole time Happy and I were up there needlessly accusing my nanny, and friend, of
subterfuge cause I have had a very rough couple of years and this might push me off the deep end,
Platypus-”

“No, he apologized for thinking I was the mole in your company,” Steve said stiffly. “He thinks
I’m here either for your money or to have sex with you-”

“For what it’s worth, that’s twisting what I said. I’m trying to protect you-”

“Protect me, I’m an adult-” Tony made a face.

Steve was backing away from both of them now. Tony caught this and made a step closer to him,
but he held up a hand. His chest felt tight. His mind felt… crunchy. He knew what this was. ‘Panic
attack,’ he told himself. ‘You’re panicking. That’s not real. You need to get out of here- go
somewhere and calm down-’

“Steve… Rhodey just can be an overbearing asshole sometimes. Tell him-”

“Captain Rogers, we’ve really gotten off on the wrong foot. I don’t know what it was you are
talking about, but-”

“I’m fine,” he said, his voice tight. “Really, I am. You wanted to vet me. Go ahead. Look into my
military history- I don’t care. I’m not a Marine anymore. I don’t want to be one anymore. I like my
job-” His heart was beating way too fast, his breathing too shallow.

Tony was approaching him, his hands up. “Please, Steve. Just let me get a little closer to you. I can
help you-”

“I don’t just use sex,” he told the mechanic. “I’m not that kind of person.”

“I know that.”
“I’m not a Marine anymore. I was discharged. They said I could stop-”

“You’re not,” Tony agreed. “Civilian now. I’d worry about you if you were active. Breathe in with
me.”

He inhaled sharply. Tony coached him through one more inhale and exhale and then he couldn’t
tolerate any more. His mind felt less fuzzy but his skin still itched, and he wouldn’t try to find that
itch until he left the room, would continue to stand straight because he’d been a Marine for fifteen
years and some things stayed with you, long after you wanted to let it go-

He felt ashamed now of giving in to his panic. “I’ve had enough tonight,” he said, as softly as he
could. “I’d like to go-?”

Tony looked incredibly sad. “You don’t need my permission, Captain. You don’t have to stay. I’ll
sort this out.”

He deflated. “You can tell him. I don’t even care anymore. But I’m going to bed.”

“Steve…”

“Everything’s fine,” he insisted tightly. “He’s watching your six. I get it. I’d do it for my friends.
But I’m tired now. Night, Tony. Good night, Colonel Rhodes.”

“Hang on,” Tony called. “One more thing-” He hustled after Steve, grabbing his hand as he
crossed the room’s threshold. “Are we okay?” he asked, his voice sounding much younger than he
usually did.

“I’m not mad at you. I’m not mad at anyone. But he thinks I’m fucking you for corporate secrets.”

“We don’t fuck,” Tony said mildly. “I’m going to fix this. Sorry, Steve.”

“Everything’s fine,” he repeated. “Please let me go, Tony.”

The mechanic definitely looked crestfallen now. Steve hated himself a little for being responsible
for that look. “Alright, Captain,” Tony said. “I love you. Get some rest.”

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He fled the room, speed walking down the hallway and
through the dining room and kitchen, climbing a flight of stairs before he let himself slow to a stop.
His heart was pounding. Somehow it felt like he was fighting with Tony and he knew, logically,
that neither of them wanted that.

He considered checking on the kids- that usually calmed him- but he felt so erratic and off, he was
worried that he’d bring that energy in with him. He slipped his phone out of his pocket, checking
the time. Not too late…

‘You awake?’ he texted.

Nat’s response came back almost immediately. ‘Of course. It’s only 11.’ There was a little pause.
‘You okay, cookie?’

He considered it carefully. ‘Can I call you?’ His phone started ringing almost immediately. He
almost dropped it, fumbling to answer the call. “Hey,” he said, sitting down heavily on his bed.

“Hey,” she said. “You okay, big guy?”

“Mm, better now that I’m talking to you,” he sighed. Getting up, he did something he rarely did
 anymore- he locked his bedroom door. “Tony’s friend is an ass,” he complained.

“Yeah, you were saying that last night in the group chat but we never got to hash that out. What’d
he do?”

Steve took a couple more deep breaths in. He felt very tired. “Can I come early tomorrow? I have a
key. I can tell you over lunch.”

“You can come now if you can get here safely,” she said immediately.

“It’s not that bad,” he said. “I know I’m safe here, it’s just… we argued and that might be partially
my fault- I lost my temper- and then I had a fucking panic attack in front of both Tony and his
friend… I just would like…”

He trailed off. He’d never missed his dingy apartment before, but he kind of did now. No matter
how bad his attempts at dating had been, he’d been able to escape to his own space at the end of
them. “I don’t want to fight with Tony. What if I really messed things up now?”

“Tony’s pretty even keeled and I can kick his ass if I need to.”

That made him huff, a small smile threatening to appear. “I’m really tired,” he said next, because
he was. Panic attacks always made him sleepy. “Why are you still awake? I thought you had a long
work week.”

“But now I’m decompressing and that’s me time,” she said. “So it’s not tiring.”

“Want to- Want to go ice skating before the others come over tomorrow?” he asked, curling on his
side. He yawned. “That could be fun… burn some extra energy.”

“Sure. Sam also wants to go snow tubing at some point. He won’t stop blowing up the group chat
about it- you’ve seen.”

“Mm, I love snow tubing.” His eyes were closing. Talking to Natasha had helped. “Honey, can I let
you go? I’m losing my fight with sleep. I’m sorry.” He hoped she wouldn’t feel like he was using
her.

Her voice was fond. “Change out of your day clothes before you fall asleep. Let yourself in
tomorrow- I won’t be awake until at least ten but you can come whenever.”

“Kay. Love you.”

Chapter End Notes

Thanks to everyone that keeps commenting on this fic, even when it takes me weeks to
respond! I do read and enjoy the comments. I especially like hearing about what's
working well and things you hope will happen in the future.

Please be kind!
 Chapter 65

Steve went for his morning run at six in the morning, his stomach churning and his mind
elsewhere. He decided to cut through Central Park, feeling his feet barely touch the ground.
Despite being tired last night, he’d barely slept.

It was barely starting to get light by the time he got home and he’d made up his mind.

“Jarvis,” he said, finding the older man in the kitchen, already prepping for breakfast. “I think I’m
going to get an early start on my weekend- can I take some of this to go?”

The British gentleman surveyed him. “Of course,” he agreed. “Is something wrong?”

“No, no, I just-” He felt wrongfooted, knowing that he was, in a way, running out on the Starks. “I
just want to clear my head. Could you tell Mr. Stark I needed to leave early? He already kind of
knows. Just- He can call me if he needs me.”

“Will do.” Jarvis set about putting together a tupperware container of food. “Are you okay, Captain
Rogers?” he asked just as Steve was approaching the stairs.

He froze. “I don’t know,” he admitted.

“Did Tony do something wrong?”

“No. No, he’s so kind to me. I think I’m the problem.”

Jarvis hummed. “Packing your bag for the weekend?” Steve nodded, indicating that he’d be right
back. He got up to his room, throwing a pair of sweats and a change of clothes in his carry on tote.
He shoved his book and sketchpad on top of that and his eyes fell on the arc reactor. Hastily, he
shoved this in his pocket. He needed it.

Jarvis had put together his breakfast when he came down. “Thanks, Jarvis,” he said gratefully.
“Sorry to put you between us. What are you going to say to him?”

“I could tell Mr. Stark that you had to go help your mother, but he’ll probably call to check on you
since he is very fond of your mother. Or I could tell him the truth and save us all time.”

“What’s the truth, Jarvis?” Steve asked, feeling tired and defeated.

“It’s your day off and you needed space.”

“Yeah, that- that’s good,” he said. He held up the food in thanks. “I’m going to run now-”

“I’ll see you soon, Captain Rogers. Be safe.”

He ate on the subway, let himself into Natasha’s house, and crept up the stairs. “You really are
here early,” she said sleepily, raising her head. “Can I climb in with you?” he whispered. She
hummed a yes.

He scrambled out of his clothes, getting under the covers with her. “Oomph,” he murmured. “It’s
been a long week.”

“Go back to sleep,” she whispered. “It’s still early. I think.”

“It is.”

He rolled over, half covering her with his body and smushing his face against her chest because
Tony was right, boobs were great and he missed boobs sometimes- above him, she scoffed. “Men,”
she complained. “They’re just warm and soft,” he protested. “You like this. Don’t lie.”

“I don’t hate it,” she allowed, circling his neck. “You have to make lunch.”

“Can do,” he said, his voice muffled.

“You’re going to smother yourself like this-”

“I’d die a happy man,” he said, rolling off of her reluctantly. She cuddled up to him again, making
him laugh. “Mm, you’re just so small and soft. I love you, honey.” He kissed the top of her head.

She had started snoring again. He rubbed the top of her back, trying to match her breathing pattern.
He closed his eyes again. He really needed more sleep.

Steve made them soup and sandwiches for lunch.

“Your phone’s ringing!” Natasha called from where she was in the dining room. “It’s Tony- I’ll
answer it-”

“It’s Tony-?”

“Oh- Hey-” He could hear Natasha laughing. “How did you guys get your dad’s phone?” She
looked up at him as he came in. “I’ll take over lunch prep. It’s the kids,” she said cheerfully,
handing him the phone.

They’d managed to video chat him. “Steve, Steve- you left too soon,” Morgan said.

“You didn’t say goodbye,” Peter chimed in.

“Oh, babies,” he said, feeling his heart flood with love, “I’m sorry. I had to get up early today. I
had some stuff to do,” he said, hoping the vagueness would cover the lie.

“But Jarvis made blueberry pancakes and you missed it,” Morgan said, with the intensity of a
criminal defense attorney.

“Oh no,” he gasped. “Yeah!” she said back loudly as if he was just getting it. He loved her.

Peter pushed his way into the view. “Steve, I hurt my finger,” he said, holding the finger so close
to the camera that Steve couldn’t see anything.

“How’d you hurt your finger?”

“I accidentally bit it,” Morgan confessed. “But look- no blood. He just needs a kiss-”

“Oh, bear,” he said, looking up when Natasha came in with plates. He asked her quietly if she
needed help- she shook her head. “I’m not nearby unfortunately. Can you ask Daddy to kiss your
finger? Or Jarvis?”

“Yeah, but Steve-”

Suddenly, he heard Tony’s voice. “Kids? What are you doing in Steve’s room?”
“Talking to Steve-”

“Talking to Steve-? Oh, shit- Hey.” Tony ducked into view. “I didn’t know they had my phone,” he
said apologetically. “Kids, this is Steve’s day off.”

“I didn’t mind,” Steve said cheerfully. Tony looked faintly unhappy and he hated that he’d left the
mechanic like that after he’d been so patient with Steve all of these months. “I’m sorry for running
out this morning. That’s why they called. I should have waited for you to get up.”

“I get it. You need your time,” Tony began.

“Nah, I just panicked a little. Sorry, Tony. You know I love all three of you?” Tony had blinked in
surprise, clearly not expecting that from Steve; he smiled now, his features lighting up, making
him look younger.

“I do, Captain. You’re very much beloved by us. You feeling better today?”

“Much better,” he said. “Needed some fresh air. That’s all. Pete needs someone to kiss his finger,”
he added. He watched Tony take the proffered hand carefully, Pete showing him where he’d gotten
bitten. Tony examined it; gave him a bunch of tiny kisses. “We’re about to have lunch- you guys
doing anything fun this weekend?”

“Going to an ice castle with the babies and Rhodey. Then maybe cookies. If these ones aren’t
falling asleep by then. Okay, babies. Give Steve some long distance kisses. Let him enjoy his
lunch.”

“Bye, Steve!” they chorused. “Bye, honey,” Tony added, ending the call.

“So things aren’t as bad as they seemed, maybe,” Natasha said, bringing in the soup this trip.

“Maybe not,” he agreed, getting up to get the rest of the stuff in the kitchen. “Tony wasn’t really
the problem though.”

“Right, it’s this friend of his. I can’t believe some of the things he said to you. Sam’s going to have
a cow- you know he hates authority figures that push people around.”

“The thing is,” he said, pulling out her chair for her. “I’ve read up about him. While you were in
the shower. And yesterday a little. He’s well admired. Very brave, apparently. He just doesn’t
seem to like me.”

“Well then he’s an idiot,” she commented. “Anybody would know that you’re the world’s nicest
guy if they just shut up for like five minutes-”

“The conversation just seemed to go right off the tracks. It only happens with me though. He was
talking to Happy and Tony all night.”

“Where has this guy even been lately? How can he not know how much Tony loves you? Everyone
knows that-”

“Active deployment. Stationed where it’s hard to communicate. I always hated that the most, when
I was deployed.”

She hummed. “It was scary back here too. Not knowing when you’d come back. If you’d come
back. And you and Buck in the same deployment-” She cut herself off, shaking her head. They
rarely talked about this kind of thing.
He shook his head at her. “How about this? I just make you guys fight his friends and whoever
wins we get to keep. You guys are fiercely protective of me. Apparently he is protective of Tony.
We’ll let you take it to the streets.”

“We’d win,” she swore. “We’re more motivated than he is.”

 Chapter 66

“Where is he?”

“In the study-”

“Hey, punk.” Bucky had found him. He held out his arms, engulfing Steve in a hug. He actually
lifted the former soldier off his feet. Only Bucky was strong enough to do that.

“Hey. You know something that I don’t know?”

“This is just for having to put up with another jarhead commander. Thought we were done with
that.” Bucky sighed, setting him back on the ground, but not letting go. Sam was actually just
behind them. “You’ve been having panic attacks?” he asked, strong-arming Steve into his own
version of a hug when Bucky let go.

“Just a little,” he admitted.

“This recent or has it been happening for a while now?” Sam asked, studying him.

“Oh, just recently. Very contained to the gala event, really. And Tony’s friend. But I think I
overreacted too. A mix.” He knew he was babbling, he just couldn’t stop himself. Still, Sam
listened to him carefully and nodded at the end.

“You’ve been in a better place for the most part, it seems,” he surmised.

“Yeah,” Steve agreed, realizing it was true.

“How did Tony react when you had the panic attacks?”

Steve cast around for the memory of the previous night. Once he got panicky, he started to lose
pieces of time. Memories. He had to focus. “He… he tried to get me to breathe with him. He
wanted to help me. I just couldn’t be in the room anymore. Felt boxed in.”

“By Tony?” Sam asked, frowning.

“No. His friend.”

“Huh. And what did Tony do?”

He’d thought that his friends would get tired of talking about these things but he was wrong. They
picked the last week apart over Chinese food with a lot of offended gasps and downright shouting
at times; Steve did sometimes wonder how Natasha’s neighbors put up with it at all, but they’d
never gotten a complaint yet.

Natasha was the one to bring out the dancing game, making Bucky groan, but Sam and Steve were
for it. He could feel himself beginning to grin about five minutes in, recreating a dance from-

“Tony’s bringing me to see this next month,” he said breathlessly, spinning effortlessly. “I told him
I liked it apparently a while back. And it’s in town-”

“Tony probably bought Broadway just to make a minor adjustment to the schedule,” Sam said, not
missing a beat.
“No, I don’t think you can do that,” Steve laughed, but he paused. Had Tony done that-? When had
they announced the show? Shit-

“Are we the grandparents in Willy Wonka?” Sam asked, hours later, finding the other three
jammed into Natasha’s bed, Bucky leaning against the footboard.

“This is a sleepover,” Bucky pointed out.

“This is ridiculous,” Sam said, getting in beside him. “Tell me we’re not sleeping like this.”

“It’s cozy,” Steve said.

“We are not sleeping like this,” Natasha said emphatically. “I like to have one man in my bed at a
time, thank you very much. I prefer it to be Steve.”

“Who else is coming to bed with you?” Sam asked, interested. “Anyone we know? Anyone hot?”

“None of your business. I still like men, aesthetically. Sometimes physically,” she added. “Braid
my hair Steve?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he agreed.

“Just as long as you’re safe,” Bucky said from his spot, eyeing her.

She snorted at him, crawling around so that she was situated between Steve’s legs. He began to
comb through her hair with his fingers. “My three closest friends are over six feet tall, ex-military
men who think that they’re my brothers. Who’s going to hurt me?”

“And you’re pretty deadly in your own right,” Steve commented, divying up her hair.

Bucky looked at him over her shoulder and Steve knew what Bucky was thinking- being strong
hadn’t saved him from getting hurt- but he shrugged his shoulders. Natasha was right. If anybody
tried anything with her, the guy wouldn’t live to see the light of day. And Nat rarely brought men
home. So she likely vetted those that did come home.

“You’re getting some silver hairs,” he whispered in her ear, bending forward so the others didn’t
hear. She fake gasped at him; he chuckled. “Only a few,” he promised. “One or two. You’re still
the baby.”

“Sorry for what I said before,” she said sleepily, two hours later when they’d finished gossiping
and Sam had actually fallen asleep, slumped against Bucky and the footboard. Steve and Bucky
had half carried, half dragged him down the hall. “I didn’t mean it like-”

“Don’t apologize, baby,” he said sleepily. “I didn’t take anything personal.”

“It wasn’t your fault. There was nothing you could have done to stop it.” ‘I was drunk,’ he thought
idly. ‘I shouldn’t have drank that much.’ He rolled his weight around, slinging his arm over her
stomach. “But you do make me feel safe,” she told him, drawing him near.

“I’m glad,” he said, and he meant it. “I love nobody else the way I love you.” He flicked off the
bedside lamp.

“Things are going to work out between you and Tony,” she promised, looking at him in the
moonlight. “You’ve had some tough years and some bad things have happened. You’ve earned all
this happiness and more.”
“I hope so,” he said.

She pushed him onto his back, curling into his arms. “Sleep,” she said. And he did.

Bucky was the one to wake them, mid-morning, by throwing the shades up. Steve took a defensive
stance- he pulled the blankets up and over them; Natasha was more proactive- she got out of bed
and chased Bucky down. Steve curled up in the blankets, listening to them thundering around
somewhere on the second floor and, if he strained his hearing, to Sam whistling in the kitchen. He
dozed for another hour.

He was in the shower when Bucky poked his head in, making him jump. “We’re making lunch,
don’t take forever in here.”

“Hasn’t anyone here heard of boundaries-?” he called out, picking up the shampoo bottle he’d
dropped on his foot and swearing.

“Nope!”

But Steve couldn’t say that he hated it. They spent most of the day Sunday vegging out, doing their
own thing. Bucky and Natasha were clearly scheming something in the other room; he sat with
Sam on the couch, clicking their way through several games at the same time, cutting back and
forth. Both teams were losing. “Can you believe this shit?” Sam asked rhetorically.

He should leave, he knew. The time he normally took off to go home came and went and he sat on
the couch, stuck there. Would Mr. Stark be angry with him for leaving the way he had? What had
he said the day before? He bit his lip, worrying that he’d misinterpreted the tone.

And for whatever reason, none of his friends were leaving either. Even when he eventually voiced
that he should go, they discouraged him.. “Finish this game of backgammon, you’re not a savage,”
Sam told him. And then challenged him to a tie-breaker when it was done.

“If I don’t leave soon, the subway will be too sketchy even for me,” he protested.

“Alright, well we were hoping to just keep you here long enough, but he’s running late-”

“Who?” he asked, suspicious.

“Tony,” they chorused. “We called him,” Bucky said apologetically. “He’s driving over to pick
you up. But there’s traffic- he had to take a longer route around it.”

“Oh, but there was no need-”

“He wanted to.”

The doorbell rang. Steve gave them all a dark look, but got up, opening the front door. “You didn’t
need to drive over here,” he said, seeing his employer slash friend. “I didn’t need to, but I wanted
to,” the mechanic corrected. “Can I come in?”

“Oh- Yeah.” He moved out of the way. A cold wind blew as he shut the door. Behind him, Sonny
was creeping towards the door. Tony chirruped at the cat, catching his attention. Steve approached
him, his stomach in knots. “Hey,” he said.

“Hey, honey-” Tony reached out a hand, grabbing his hip. He pulled Steve bodily closer, catching
him in a hug. “I thought I’d better come get you if I wanted to be sure you’d return home tonight.
Party animal.”
“So you’re not mad.”

“Never mad at you. Worried.”

“Worried?”

“Worried I did something wrong. That you won’t come back. You know. The usual anxiety
cocktail.” Tony followed him into the living room. “So here’s the Girl Scouts of America,” he
deadpanned. “Good sleepover?”

“We braided each other’s hair and talked about boys.”

“They actually did braid my hair,” Natasha said, shrugging. She got up, drawing Tony closer.
“Where’s my cheek kiss?”

“Didn’t know how I’d made out this weekend,” he told her and Steve was struck by the fact that
this was Tony genuinely nervous. He pulled Tony backwards, back into himself. “Me first,” he
said, pressing a kiss to Tony’s cheek. The mechanic tried not to appear too pleased and only
minimally succeeded. Sam and Bucky were grinning up at him. He realized he wasn’t usually so
forward. “Now, Natasha.”

“He can be possessive. Steve’s really missed you this weekend,” she told the brunette.

“He’s a smitten kitten,” Sam called from the couch. Steve protested; Bucky laughed at him.

“You’re my beautiful kitten,” Tony half joked, his eyes warm and steady as he watched Steve,
apparently to see if this was okay. Steve just groaned at all of them, lumbering forward and falling
into Tony’s embrace. “Come on, baby. Let me take you home. Say goodbye to everyone.”

“Bye, guys,” he said, knowing they were already blowing up the group chat.

Tony led him back to the car, even opening his door for him. “You’re determined to prove chivalry
isn’t dead then?” Steve asked, getting in.

“Treating you the way you deserve, Captain,” Tony said, catching his hand and pressing kisses to
Steve’s knuckles. “Don’t close your door yet- hang on-”

He watched the mechanic through the rear view mirror, hearing him opening the trunk. He came
back, having switched Steve’s bag for a blanket. “Really, Tony?” he asked, knowing his friends
were watching from the window. “We’re so close to home,” he laughed.

“You get cold easy,” Tony told him. “Plus, I was hoping we could talk on the way home.”

“Talk about…?”

Tony kissed his cheek, banged his head on the top of the car getting up, and closed his door before
running around the front of the car. Getting in on his side, he started the car up. “Rhodey wants to
apologize for real this time, but we’ll do it when you’re ready. I don’t know why he rode you the
way he did. He hasn’t done that before.”

“Have you ever dated anyone after what happened with your wife?” Steve asked carefully.

“Well, no-”

“My friends think he’s a jerk, to be honest, but we all agreed that he was trying to protect you,” he
offered.
“I think he’s jealous,” Tony said.

“Of me? Why?”

“He’s been gone and now the kids love you more and know you more. I’m not saying that’s your
fault,” Tony added. “Just- the military takes him away a lot.”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed, because it was true. He remembered his buddies coming home to find that
their newborns were full blown toddlers. He’d wondered at the time if that would happen to him.

“Something else though…” Steve waited, feeling his palms sweat.

Tony was tooling through the streets carefully, the traffic a minimum at this hour of the day. “You
had a panic attack, Steve,” he said, and his voice sounded pained. “I set it up to happen. I should
have let you go when you wanted to.”

“I could have told you I didn’t want to stay.”

Tony pulled to the side of the road, putting the car into park. “What caused your panic attack?” he
asked, looking at Steve.

He considered the question. “Don’t know… Felt kind of,” he gestured vaguely, “reminded of how
things were. At the end of my military career. And everyone at the gala thought it was so funny
that I switched from being a Marine to this. I didn’t want your friend to know that I love you
cause…”

He had to really think about this. It was hard to focus on stressful memories. “Because- I don’t
know- I feel like I’m falling into everyone’s expectations if they think I’m just fucking you and if
we do. And they think I’m taking advantage of you. And if things don’t work out with us…”

“You’ll be what everyone’s been talking about,” Tony finished for him.

“I know I shouldn’t care about what other people think, but you know, the way people looked at
me when I was discharged… I wanted- I thought-”

“People can be assholes, believe me, I know.”

“Doesn’t it bother you, what they say about you?”

“About me, no. I’ve been in the spotlight for so long, nothing feels abnormal anymore. I don’t like
how everyone treats you like you’re some lesser for being a nanny. You’re the hardest working
man that I know. My babies are the luckiest babies in the world. Our babies.”

“Our babies,” Steve echoed tentatively.

“I meant what I said before, you know.”

“About?”

“Willing to share the title. Actually- Probably come up with a different name to avoid confusion.
Let me know if you’d like to make a lateral move.”

He caught Tony’s hand in his. “Could we really share them? They could be mine too? Someday-”
It was more than he’d ever dared hope for.

Tony put the car back into drive. “Captain, we’re already sharing them,” he said.
 Chapter 67

Tony had said, ‘let me take you on a real date.’

And now here they were. Outside. In the cold.

“I can’t believe they don’t unlock the doors until twenty minutes before the show,” Tony said,
stamping his feet briskly. Steve shivered. It was a January night, freezing and rather bleak. He
shoved his hands in his pockets.

“I can’t believe we got here early,” Steve said mildly. “I thought with the kids we’d be late for
sure.”

“They lost interest in us rapidly when they saw Sam and Buck. Think there’s any chance of them
going to bed on time?”

“None.”

“Ah, well. They’re young. They’ll recover.” Tony took his scarf off, draping it around Steve’s
neck. “My little popsicle,” he teased. “My Capsicle.”

Steve made a noise that suggested physical pain. He mouthed ‘your puns are awful’ at Tony who
pretended not to understand. “Let’s walk and talk. Keep moving. We have ten minutes to kill.”

“Alright. We’ll walk around the block.” Tony bumped shoulders with him. “That’s okay. You talk
more when I get you on the move.”

“It’s easier to talk if I’m doing something else,” he confessed. “Like if we’re in the car or walking
somewhere. Or playing cards. Ma uses that one a lot.”

“Because you don’t have to look me in the eye?”

“Partially that.” He hesitated. “Partly it’s to occupy the anxious part of my brain. It’s, uh, always
loud in my head. Lot of noise. Don’t know how to explain it. But some things make it quiet.” He
glanced at Tony. “Was there something specific you wanted to talk about?”

“Sort of. But I don’t know if you want to just keep things light. This is a date after all.”

“We’re not exactly following the typical pattern,” Steve pointed out. “Go ahead.”

“Mm, okay. Well- I was thinking about last week. The gala and with Rhodey. There were times
when you were getting upset and I didn’t know. Outwardly, you seem very… together. Calm. I
want you to tell me if I’m doing something wrong- right away.”

“You weren’t doing anything wrong,” Steve said at once. “I was just- just panicking. Sometimes I
do that.”

“When you’re upset, I feel really helpless,” Tony said emphatically, touching his chest with his
fingers. “I love you. When you can’t breathe, I can’t breathe. Like when our babies get sick. I wish
it would happen to me instead. You know?”

Steve hadn’t known that his panic had affected Tony so much. He swallowed down an apology.
Last night, they’d talked about the gala and the feelings it had brought up. He wanted to be able to
help Tony with whatever this was. “So what do you need from me?” he asked.
Tony considered the question. “Tell me how to help you,” he said. “In those moments.”

He didn’t know why Tony was so interested; nobody had been before. Not his romantic partners,
at least. His friends knew these things rather intuitively after years of seeing him freak out or fuck
up. “I like it when you hold my hand,” he said, feeling dumb.

“I like holding your hand,” Tony told him, snagging his hand now that they’d established that. “It
calms me down too. What else?”

“I don’t know, I’m kind of a mess,” he deflected.

“Not my captain,” Tony disagreed. They turned at the next corner. “I want to know these things,”
Tony said quietly.

“Why?”

“Because they’re important. You’re important. And I want to be the best me I can be. That way
you’ll never want to leave.” Tony was smiling when he said it, but Steve could still see the look in
his eye, the way the joke didn’t rise all the way to the top.

He slowed to a halt. “I will never leave you,” he said, his voice low and strained. “Never willingly.
You’re everything I’ve ever wanted. I’m not risking that.”

Tony looked at him like he had to be lying. He slipped his other hand over Steve’s arm so that they
were linked together. He pulled them along. “What can I do if you get upset?” he asked next.

“Ask me what’s wrong. Not in a douchy way,” he added. Tony snorted. “Ask me what I heard you
say. Something I go off on my mental tangents and I… lose focus of what’s actually being said. I
get anxious. You know?”

“Things sound worse when you’re anxious.”

“That’s it,” he said, glancing into each window as they passed them.

“How do I know when you’re getting anxious?”

He inhaled. “Um. I get quiet. I shut down really. Like I can’t give long answers. I don’t want to
make jokes. And my heart beats fast. I feel like I’m choking.”

They turned another corner. “What helps when you’re anxious?”

He bit his lip. “Holding my hand,” he said again, unable to look Tony in the eye at this. “Tell me
you’re not mad at me. Don’t yell at me, please. And stay with me.”

“I would never yell at you.”

“I don’t think you would. I just don’t like being boxed in, conversationally or physically.”

“If I ever make you feel trapped, you punch me in the dick.”

Steve made an indelicate noise at that. “I will absolutely not punch you in the dick. Ever. Doesn’t
that breach the bro code?”

“Mm, I’m too old for the bro code.” They turned the last corner. They were back where they’d
started. Tony leaned against his shoulder. “Think it’s close enough now that they’ll let us in?”
“God, I hope so,” he said without thinking. Tony laughed at that. Steve stumbled over an apology,
trying to explain that he’d really liked talking to Tony like this, he was just cold- The mechanic
kissed his hands, eyes sparkling at him in that way he had.

They got into the theater this time, and were the first in the concession line. Tony insisted on
spoiling him, despite Steve’s protests. He bought him his Buncha Crunch and a very large bucket
of popcorn, and probably would have continued to load him up if Steve had let him, but Steve
wouldn’t. “I’m not hungry, I’m horny,” he whispered in the mechanic’s ear, making him choke on
air.

“I could take care of that for you, if you’d let me,” the other man said, leading him over to the
ticket counter.

“Mm, not in public.”

“But when we’re out of public?” he asked, holding the door to their theater open.

Steve was watching the steps. “Bring it up again,” he said, finding their spot. “Later.”

“Fair enough,” Tony said cheerfully. “I will.”

He’d gotten them their usual seat in the back of the theater. Steve let Tony in first, taking his coat
from him and draping it unceremoniously beside him so no one would sit with them. He wrapped
an arm around Tony’s shoulders, pulling him close and kissing his temple. “I love you,” he said
softly. “I really love you.”

Tony’s eyes were soft and imploring. “Yeah? I adore you.”

He grabbed a handful of popcorn nervously. “Does part of your alleged wooing process involve
actual sex?” he asked quietly, making Tony startle. The mechanic nearly knocked the bucket of
popcorn over. Steve grabbed it. “Careful,” Steve admonished, grinning faintly now. “Old fashioned
are we?”

“My wooing process is customizable,” Tony said with dignity. “Would you like to-? You want-?”
He’d apparently broken the mechanic’s brain with this request.

“I’ve been thinking about it for some time,” Steve admitted. The lights in the theater were
dimming. There were very few people in there with them. He stretched out his legs, watching an ad
for some upcoming action movie. “Do you think I’m… desirable? Still?”

“What a question,” Tony muttered, shifting in his seat. He pressed his lips to the shell of Steve’s
ear. “Captain, I’d do anything you wanted me to do.”

He felt an internal tug somewhere around his naval region. “I like it both ways,” he offered, glad
that the lights had gone down now. He was sure he was scarlet, even if he’d been the one to bring
the topic up. “I’d like,” he said, under the loud music of the next ad, “your mouth on me. I give as
good as I get.”

Tony flashed a look in his direction. “I’ll give you something good,” he promised.

To give his hands something to do, he munched on popcorn. He had many things he wanted to say,
and very little time before the movie started. “I love you,” he said again, because suddenly, he
needed to say it once more. “I’m so in love with you.”

And Tony had the biggest grin on his face as the movie finally started. Steve had a hard time
keeping his eyes on the screen.
 Chapter 68

“Steve,” a little voice said, “Steve, it snowed.”

“It snowed?” he mumbled from where he was lying face down. “Outside?” His brain felt sluggish.
He wasn’t really sure that he was awake yet.

“Uh huh. Come see.”

“It’s all dark, baby. Let me sleep…”

“Can I climb in with you? Please?”

Turning his head, he opened his eyes reluctantly. Pete was there, trying to get on the bed and
failing; his short legs flailed as he tried to climb up. Steve reached and snagged one of his hands,
pulling him up. “It snowed lots,” Peter said, climbing in with Steve. “Like-” He yawned. “When
we were with Natasha. Everything’s white.”

Steve hummed. He looked at the clock. Five in the morning… What was Pete even doing up at this
hour? He had to wonder about kids sometimes. “Back to sleep, puppy.”

“Okay…”

Tony woke him up next. “No school today,” he said, sitting on the edge of Steve’s bed. “I
wondered where Pete had gotten off to.”

“He came to join me at like,” he yawned, “five in the morning. I didn’t want to get out of bed to put
him back. Sorry if I scared you,” Steve mumbled. He hugged the five year old to his body.

“I figured I wouldn’t get nervous until I checked with you. And I was right.” Tony’s fingers were
stroking his hair, sweeping his hair away from his face in slow, gentle strokes. “Morgan’s already
rolling around. You guys staying in bed?”

“Mm.”

He flickered out again, the ghost touch of Tony’s fingers in his hair creeping into his dreams. He
fell down, down, down…

Pete woke him up again closer to nine. “I have to pee,” he said. “And I’m hungry.”

“Bathroom first,” Steve said, trying to lift his head. “Come on, I’ve got you.”

He shaved while Pete went about his business. The five year old padded over to him, looking up at
him. “Can I shave too?” he asked. Steve lifted him onto the counter. “You are looking scruffy,” he
said, inspecting the little brunette’s chin. “Here, I’ll take care of that.”

Squeezing out some more shaving cream, he lathered it onto Pete’s face, dabbing at his upper lip
and ‘sideburns’. Pete looked at himself in the mirror and giggled. “Take a picture,” he said, so
Steve had to scrounge around for his phone.

“So to shave you have to go slow and be careful,” he said through a yawn. “Otherwise you nick
your skin and that can hurt.” He demonstrated how to clear away the shaving cream, Pete leaning
on him, a warm weight against his chest. The kid followed his every move with wide eyes.
“Oh, much better,” he said at last, pecking Pete on the lips. “Now you’re ready for a job
interview.”

“No jobs,” Pete giggled. “I live with you. And Daddy.”

“And Daddy takes care of us all,” he said, climbing into his pair of sweats. “Let’s go find Daddy
and Mo. I bet they’re getting into all sorts of mischief.”

Carrying Pete down the stairs, he found Tony sitting with Morgan at the kitchen table, munching
on toast. He dropped Peter off in the seat next to Morgan, kissed the back of Tony’s neck, and
wandered over to the door to look out at the world. “Wow,” he rasped. “All white.”

“Daddy, I shaved today,” Pete piped up.

“You what-?”

Steve tore his gaze away from the white snowscape in front of him. Pulling out his phone, he
opened his pictures app. “See,” Pete said. “I’m smooth.” Morgan felt his chin, wowwing at him.

The snow had really come down in the past couple of hours. Tony phoned over to the Jarvises,
telling them to enjoy a day off- no need to come out in the cold. He worked on breakfast while
Steve cleared the front and back walkways.

“You always look so cold,” Tony observed when he came in at last. He embraced Steve, rubbing
warmth back into his body. Steve rolled his hips forward when the kids weren’t watching them,
grinning happily at the mechanic.

It hadn’t even stopped snowing by mid morning.

“Let’s play a game together,” he decided. “Have you ever played Pictionary?” The kids shook their
heads. Steve looked at Tony. The other man also shook his head, his eyes soulful and sparkling.
“Okay…”

Steve took out one of his sketchbooks. “We’ll make you draw first,” he said, handing it over to
Tony. The mechanic took it from him doubtfully. “I’m not an artist like you,” he said.

“You can’t mess up art. Only way to be bad at art is to not try,” he said, leaning against the couch.
He patted the floor. “Come on. Down here with the rest of us.”

Tony huffed, but he got down on the floor beside Steve. The kids leaned against the coffee table,
crowding them. Steve lifted Morgan so that she was standing between his legs. “Okay, so Daddy’s
going to draw something and we only have so much time to guess what it is he’s drawing. Let’s
split into teams.”

“I’m with you,” Morgan said, twisting to look at him.

“So you’ll guess when I’m drawing. And I’ll guess when you’re drawing.” He wrapped his arms
around her little frame.

“So I’m guessing what Daddy’s drawing?” Pete asked, leaning on the table and wiggling back and
forth.

“That’s right. Hopefully he does a good job.” Steve played with Morgan’s hands. “We don’t get to
guess. Ready, Tony?” He set his watch for a minute, finger hovering over the start button.
Tony drew a slip of paper, hiding it from the rest of them. He glanced at it, snorted, and picked up
his pencil. Steve watched with bright interest as he drew a flat box with wheels and then another
box on top of it. Tony drew like an engineer, naturally. Steve knew what it was. Pete seemed to be
struggling, even after Tony drew a handle on it.

“A vacuum, a box, that toy that makes the popping noise-”

Tony drew dozens of little lines below his creation and a sun above it. Peter squinted at his
drawing, clearly lost. “A vacuum?” he asked again.

“Can’t vacuum outside baby,” Tony said lightly.

Morgan was crowding him on his other side. “A robot,” she said. “A robot you push.”

“Oh-” But the phone’s timer was going off. Steve stopped it. “A lawn mower,” Tony said
cheerfully. “I’m not very good at drawing.” He gave Steve a twinkling look. “So we don’t get to
keep this.”

“Our turn,” Morgan said, pulling the sketchbook over.

“Are you drawing?” She nodded. “Okay, pick a card and don’t show me. Ask Daddy to read it to
you if it’s a big word.”

She pulled a card, held it up for Tony; Steve leaned back, plugging his ears while he whispered the
word in her ear. “We’re starting now, Captain,” Tony said, pulling the phone over and hitting start
on the timer.

He watched her draw what seemed to be the top of a cloud. “Cloud. Sheep. Porcupine-”

“Porcupine?” she yelled, twisting to look at him incredulously. Tony was laughing, leaning on him.
He held the mechanic up, grinning helplessly. She drew a box below the cloud. “A muffin?”

“Close,” Tony said.

“Not a muffin? A cupcake-”

“Yeah!” Morgan threw the pen in the air, twisting around to squeeze his neck. “A porcupine,” she
added scornfully. “Why are you so silly?”

“Sorry,” he apologized. “Just part of my natural charm-” He held the basket out for Peter. Pete took
a card, holding it up in confusion. Fog. “I don’t know how to draw that,” he whispered.

“Yeah, that’s hard. Let’s get rid of that one-” He showed it to Tony before flipping it away.

“I would never have guessed that one,” the mechanic agreed. He kissed Steve’s jawline.

Morgan was watching them, her hazel eyes intrigued. “You kiss Steve a lot,” she told her father.

“Mm hm. I love Steve,” Tony agreed, making Steve’s stomach flip over. “He deserves all the
kisses. Don’t you think?” She nodded. Peter held up another card. “This word is too long to sound
out,” he said.

“Yeah, that’s a long one,” Steve said, putting his hand over Tony’s face and pushing him back.
“That word is ‘giraffe,’” he said very, very quietly. “Think you can draw that?”

“Yup.”
Steve pulled Tony upright again by the collar of his shirt. Morgan giggled, watching them. “You
make Daddy smile a lot,” she told Steve next.

“Good. I love Daddy.”

 Chapter 69
Chapter Notes

More late nights ahead. Have the chapter early today~

Tony was too much. Steve didn’t know when he’d gotten flowers delivered nor when he’d snuck
them up to Steve’s room, but when he woke up Friday morning, there they were. White lilies, pink
roses, delicate baby’s breath, and then raucous sunflowers that made Steve think that Tony had
actually picked these flowers out himself- he knew the bright yellow flowers were Tony’s favorites
somehow and no sane person would have put them in this bouquet.

“The wooing process has begun?” he asked, finding Tony pulling tights up Morgan’s legs. He
unbuttoned the back of her dress, helping her step into it.

“As much as you question me, I will not be thrown from my process, dear Captain,” Tony said. He
turned Morgan, doing up the buttons of the dress.

She tugged on Steve’s hand. “Steve, do you like my dress?”

“Kitten, you look beautiful,” he said, getting in Tony’s way by hugging her. He spanned her ribs
with his hands, touching his nose against hers. “I’m going to pick you out a cardigan though- those
short sleeves won’t keep you warm.”

“My rainbow sweater,” she called at his back.

Finding this, he went across the hall to where Pete was still happily in bed. “It’s Friday,” he
chirped at the toddler. “Last day of responsibilities.”

“Want to sleep, Steve,” Pete mumbled.

“I know, pumpkin.” Regretfully, he peeled back the covers making Pete groan. He wondered what
it would be like when Pete was a teenager, then he wondered if he would still be here when he
was.

“Morgan’s playing,” Tony announced, coming into the room. “Come on Petey. Let’s get that
pullup off you. Come on. Daddy’s got you-”

Steve opened the blinds, listening to Tony coaxing Pete through his morning routine in the
bathroom. He pulled some choices for the five year old- two pairs of pants, shirts, and a sweater.
“Undies,” he said, flinging these to Pete- they landed on his face and Tony stifled a laugh- “Ready
for socks?” he asked next, watching Pete scramble into the underwear.

He loved his mornings here.

Tony surprised him by coming with him to drop the kids off at school. “Friday has been very
helpful at freeing up time on my schedule,” he explained to Steve. They said their goodbyes at the
kids’ respective classrooms. “Gives me more time to spend with the babies and even time leftover
to buy you a coffee. Come on, Cap.”
“We just had breakfast,” he laughed, but he followed Tony willingly enough. “You got me
flowers,” he added, getting in the car.

“I did.”

“Nobody’s ever gotten me flowers before,” Steve admitted.

“I’d buy you a whole garden of flowers but the ecological impact-”

“Stop,” Steve protested, laughing. “You’re too kind to me.”

“That’s just not possible.”

Steve grabbed Tony’s arm before he could turn the key in the ignition. “How much time did Friday
buy you back into your schedule?” he asked speculatively.

Tony blinked, bemused. He really wasn’t a morning person. Steve thought it was strangely cute
how difficult executive functioning was for the man before 10am. “Oh, I don’t know, like a half
hour? Pep’s got me in meetings, starting at 9:30 and I’ve already rescheduled them twice so I think
she’ll kill me if I don’t attend them today-”

“So we have until 9:30,” Steve surmised, gently cutting off the other man’s rambling. “Let’s not-
forgive me, Tony- waste time on coffee. I have something else that should jumpstart your day.”

The mechanic blinked, looking stupefied, and then it all seemed to slot into place. “My place or
yours?” he asked cheekily.

“Oh my god,” Steve said, letting go of his arm. “I can’t believe I fell in love with such an idiot.”

“Hey, better flexible and dumb than stoic and worldly,” Tony said, pulling out into traffic. “For the
record, I can put myself back into order in 3 minutes minimum, if the need arises-”

“The need will arise,” Steve promised.

“Could this be a new Friday ritual?” Tony suggested excitedly, making his way back to the
mansion in record time. “Is this because of the flowers? I will buy you that garden-”

“Tony, it’s because I love you,” Steve laughed. “Get your shit together. I don’t want to lose
Jarvis’s respect.”

“Jarvis, urgent meeting about to happen in my lab,” Tony said, walking through the kitchen
briskly. “Send me any communication through Friday unless you want to burn out your retinas-”
He dragged Steve through the room.

“I’ll consider myself forewarned,” Jarvis called mildly after him.

“Very subtle, Tony.”

“Friday, give us a five minute warning before 9:30,” Tony said, releasing him when they’d made it
to the lab. He looked at his watch. “Christ, that’s not enough time. I should have run that last red
light-”

“That would have given us two more minutes maximum and likely got us in trouble with the law,”
Steve protested. He tumbled down into his spot on the lab couch, thumping the tops of his thighs.
“Climb up-”
“Holy fuck.”

Tony straddled Steve’s lap, pulling him into a searing kiss. Steve buried his hands in the back
pockets of Tony’s jeans, squeezing his ass. He widened his own legs, forcing Tony to drop his
weight down lower, pressing them both together.

“You said something about your lips on me?” Steve suggested, turning his head.

Tony didn’t respond, at least not with words. He licked and kissed his way down the line of
Steve’s neck, rucking his shirt up to lave love onto his nipples, making Steve groan. He sorely
hoped that the lab was soundproofed- it must be, mustn’t it? He never heard any of the crazy
stupid experiments the mechanic did-

“Can I take these off?” Tony asked, his hands settling on the button to Steve’s jeans, interrupting
his train of thought deliciously.

Steve bit back his ‘you can’t be serious’ with difficulty. “Yeah,” he agreed, his voice
embarrassingly deep. “If you want to.”

Tony didn’t dignify that with a comment. He undid the button, pulled the zipper down, and with
his fingers hooked around not only his jeans but his boxers, Steve lifted his hips and Tony pulled
both down.

“Tony, you’re staring,” he said, after two hours- possibly only two minutes?- had passed.

“I’ve never seen you naked,” Tony explained.

“You’re not seeing me naked right now,” Steve countered. He pointed- “Shirt?”

“No time,” Tony said with an abundance of regret. He dipped his head down. The next thing he did
make Steve go absolutely pink. He was pretty sure that he’d let out an embarrassing shout but that
moment was already here and gone. He flexed his hips reflexively, fingers digging into the leather
of the old couch. The sounds Tony was making were obscene.

He wasn’t just seeing stars, he saw fucking constellations.

Too soon, Friday was interrupting them. “We’ve still got five minutes,” Tony protested when
Steve shifted him off onto the couch.

“You look pretty fucked up,” Steve argued, shaking his head ruefully. “Time to clean up your act.
We can finish this later.”

“Tonight?”

And Steve, looking at Tony’s lips, knew that tonight would seem far enough away as it was.
“Tonight,” he agreed. He stroked the mechanic’s face and then hastily finger combed his hair back
into something stylish.
 Chapter 70

“Pretty sure I got nothing productive done today,” Tony told him at dinner that night.

Steve grinned at him happily. He’d had the best day. “Can’t win them all,” he said cheerfully.
“Babies, let’s talk highs and lows. Best moments of this week?”

“The snow day,” Morgan piped up.

“Watching Disney movies tonight-”

“Sam and Bucky,” Morgan added. “They told us lots of embarrassing things about you,” she added
happily.

“Of course they did,” he said warmly, shaking his head. “I’ll get them back- Tony? Best moments
from this week?”

The mechanic gave him a lascivious grin. He pretended to have to think about it. “Let’s see.
Playing with my babies. Seeing my friends for lunch. Our date from earlier this week. Spending
time with my favorite captain. Pancakes tomorrow.”

“Anything that could have gone better?” he asked next.

Morgan had no complaints. She stood on her chair, reaching out for him, and rather than admonish
her- chair safety was always going to be an issue, apparently- he scooped her up, sitting her in his
lap. Dragging her plate over, he combined their food. She helped herself to his potatoes. She won’t
be little forever, he told himself.

“There’s a new boy in my class,” Peter complained. “He’s mean.”

“What does he do, Petey?”

“He keeps talking about you!” the five year old complained. Steve looked up at that. Tony was
frowning slightly. “I’ve hit the kindergarten gossip circuit?” he asked.

“His daddy says that you don’t care about soldiers-”

“Ah.” Tony took a glance at Steve. “Well that’s not true at all. Steve was a soldier. And Bucky and
Sam. I love all of them. I’m trying to keep people safer.”

“That’s what I said,” Peter complained.

Tony pet him on the head. “Then you’ve done everything you can do, sweetheart. Best to just
ignore him. He doesn’t sound very nice.”

“He’s not,” Pete said firmly.

They watched back to back Disney movies that night, Tony tangling fingers with Steve on the
couch. Pete ended up wedging himself between them midway through the first movie. He held
onto their hands, his dark eyes watching the screen carefully. Morgan tended to get up to spin in
circles, flopping onto Tony’s knees or leaning on the coffee table.

“Daddy,” he heard Morgan ask Tony as he carried her up the stairs. “Are you in love with Steve
like the prince loved Ariel?”
The mechanic laughed softly. “That’s right.”

Steve ducked his head so that nobody would see him blush. He laid down beside Pete, running his
fingers over his arms and legs, murmuring to him until he fell asleep.

“Not falling asleep, are you Captain?”

“Nope,” he mumbled.

“Cause it looks like you are.” Tony’s voice was teasing. He rubbed Steve's thigh briskly.

“I’m holding my baby,” Steve protested. “Give me a minute-”

“I’ll give you five,” Tony decided. “I’ll make some coffee- decaf,” he added, seeing Steve’s
incredulous look. “I got you a piece of cake at the local bakery. We’ll share. Come down to the
kitchen when you’re done with your baby.” That made Steve smile, the expression carving itself
out on his face. He nodded.

Tony bent down to kiss Pete’s cheek, whispered his own goodnights- Petey was snoring now- and
he ruffled Steve’s hair.

Steve lay there in the semidarkness, wondering what tonight would be like and the day after that
and the day after that. Laying a hand across the five year old’s chest, he felt it rise and fall. He
breathed in the smell of Pete’s shampoo. He stroked the fleece above Peter’s heart, feeling a sense
of wonder.

“Got your fill of cuddles?” Tony teased when he came down five minutes later. Steve shook his
head, enveloping Tony in a hug from behind. He pressed his face to the crook of Tony’s neck.
“Guess not,” the mechanic surmised. He continued to pour the coffee, mixing in cream for Steve,
leaving his cup black.

“I like the way you smell,” Steve admitted shyly, standing up straight at last.

Tony looked like he had several jokes that he was holding back at this; he took a gulp of coffee.
“You can smell me whenever you want to,” he offered.

“I thought I’d get to eat some of the cake too,” Steve said next, sitting beside him at the table and
indicating the big slice Tony had in front of him, with one fork beside it.

“We’re sharing,” Tony said, spearing a bite of cake and grasping his chin. He fed it to Steve,
wiping icing off his lip with his thumb.

“Will you still do this to me when we’re past the woo stage?”

“We might not make it past the woo stage if you keep making fun of my dating terminology-”

“Nah, you love to be teased.” Steve swiped frosting off the top of the cake, holding the finger out
for Tony, and Tony tilted his head as if to ask for his permission; he waited semi-patiently. The
mechanic’s eyes sparkled. That was all the warning Steve got before Tony enveloped the digit in
his mouth, licking away the chocolate. He snorted. “You made that 300% filthier than it needed to
be,” he said, wiping his hand off on his pants.

“When in doubt, always go with the filthy option,” Tony remarked. He ate his own bite of the cake.

“I’ll keep that sage wisdom in mind.”

“Please do, Captain.” Tony winked at him. Steve was absolutely flustered. More than a little
turned on. “We never got to finish, this morning,” Tony said, pointing at him with the fork.

“That’s because you’re such an overachiever,” Steve replied. He pointed at his mouth. “Cake.”

“Gosh, you’re demanding.” Tony gave him it, bit by bit.

“It’s nice to be worshiped. Are you sure you're not just competing for boss of the year?”

“I’m looking to be out an employee by the end of the year,” Tony shot back at him. He sipped his
coffee speculatively. Steve’s mind raced. He knew Tony- that wasn’t a threat, it was a promise-
Did Tony mean he was planning on proposing to him?

He took a sip of his own coffee. He generally didn’t like coffee nearly as much as the mechanic,
but Tony did have good taste, he’d give him that. “I’m still shooting for employee of the month,”
he said and Tony choked on his laughter.

“Seems unfair. I don’t let the other employees do what you do to me.”

“You’d better not,” Steve half growled and Tony visibly shivered. “Finish the cake,” he ordered.
“I’m bringing you upstairs.”

“Yes, Captain-”

He got up, grabbing their mugs and loading them into the dishwasher. Tony brought him the cake
plate, pressing unnecessarily against his hip to reach past him. “Ready?”

“Ready,” he agreed.

They sprinted up the backstairs, trying to be quiet when they reached the second floor, but
laughing at each other. Maybe Tony felt the way he did- half excited and a little foolish perhaps
and new.

“We have to move that table if we’re going to keep this up,” Steve said, as soon as they were in
Tony’s bedroom. “We almost knocked it over-”

“We’ll move it. Tomorrow.” Tony folded his arms around Steve’s neck, gazing up at him.

Steve licked into his mouth, tasting the coffee there, he grabbed the back of the mechanic’s neck to
hold him steady, and sighed when he felt the other man’s tongue catch on his teeth. He deepened
the kiss, forcing Tony to stand on his tiptoes, chasing the sensations, and suddenly it wasn’t
enough, he wanted more-

Grabbing Tony by the backs of his thighs, he lifted the man in one fluid motion, rolling his hips
forward so that when he situated the mechanic’s weight on them, his stance was wide enough to
keep them both upright. “Jesus, fuck,” Tony swore, leaning back and looking at him. “You’ve had
that in your arsenal this whole time?”

Steve grinned at him, already feeling pleasantly fucked out. He trailed his lips over Tony’s
shoulder and sucked on his neck. “I have a lot of things in my arsenal,” he murmured. “Touch me?”
he asked.

“Uh, I’m depending on you entirely right now, buddy, I couldn’t be touching you more if I tried,”
Tony said, jerking his head at the ground and all the space in between him and it.
He felt a laugh rumbling up his throat. “No,” he clarified. “Touch me, Tony. Please?”

The brunette’s eyes went dark when his comprehension finally caught up. “Oh shit.”

“Yeah, baby,” Steve said through a laugh.

“Where can I touch you?”

Steve considered this question. Impulsively, he wanted to say, ‘anywhere.’ And he knew that Tony
would be kind and gentle, because he always had. But the question was a gift; he didn’t want to
dismiss it. “I like being held. I know it’s silly- I’m so fucking big- but… I like it when you kiss me.
It’s a little scary having someone on top of me, right now. But I'm very open to other things. Um-
is that good?”

“Yes.” Tony’s eyes were velvety. He touched Steve’s face. “Not silly. I like holding you. I won’t
get on top of you. I promise.”

Steve reached for him, tangling his fingers around the mechanic’s. He gave a little tug. ‘Come
here.’ Tony tumbled down, lips quirked, his eyes glittering. He slid into Steve’s personal space,
wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Steve sighed happily. “I won’t always be this bad,” he
promised.

“You’re not bad.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah. But I want you to stop saying you’re bad. Use more specific words. I know you can.”

He hummed. There were those nerves, that twisting in his stomach. “I’m getting better,” he offered.
Tony nodded. Steve struggled to reframe what he meant. “I’m not afraid of you. You make me feel
safe. And I… I trust you. I trust my friends. I’m trying to fix the way my brain works…”

“Thanks, Steve.”

He blinked. “For what?” he asked, his lips quirking in his own smile now.

Tony just shook his head. He rolled Steve onto his side; the soldier huffed, but let him. He was
pleased when Tony slotted into that spot that had emerged, pressing his lips in between Steve’s
shoulder blades. Steve shivered and then relaxed into it.

Tony took him by surprise: he licked a line up from Steve’s shoulder blades to his neck. Steve
jolted, belting out a laugh. “Jesus,” he said.

“What, too much?”

“After this morning? Holy fuck. No. Just- wow-”

Tony pulled Steve over so that he was half laying on top of the mechanic. “I’m of the opinion,” he
murmured, his face pressed against Steve’s, “that sex should be fun. Don’t you think?”

Steve curled into his touch. “Are you going to tell me knock-knock jokes? Pie me in the face?”

“Well, I’m neither 8 nor 80 so probably not,” Tony whispered. Steve’s toes curled. He couldn’t
stop himself from smiling. “The pie to the face though does bring to mind other possibilities…”

Steve lifted his eyebrows but Tony didn’t elaborate. He sighed. Brushing his nose against Tony’s
lips, Steve sought out a kiss. “You’re so much.”

“I am a lot to handle,” Tony agreed.

“Not too much. But so much. Savvy?”

“Savvy.”
 Chapter 71
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

“I can see your butt.”

Steve was sprawled on his stomach. That sentence didn't make a lot of sense. “What?” he asked,
his voice muffled against his pillow.

"Your butt. It's right there."

"My..."

“What is it, honey?” Tony asked sleepily from his side of the bed.

Steve lifted his head, trying to gather his wits. Tony was on his left side, the voice was on his right
side, and he was- “Oh, shoot-” he said, grappling with the blanket. He yanked it over himself,
covering up, propping himself up to look at Peter who was waiting patiently by the side of the bed.
“Puppy?”

“Did you have a bad dream?” Pete asked curiously. And- “Why are you naked?”

Steve jabbed Tony in the ribs, hopefully winding him. "Your morning manner leaves something to
be desired," the other man groused, trying to steal the blanket back from him. "Tony," Steve said.
On his other side, Peter perked up. "Daddy," he called. Tony was coming to a lot slower than
Steve had. The mechanic sat up, looked over Steve at his son, and said, “ohhh.” And flopped back
down.

“Is he okay?” Pete asked curiously.

“Not after I’m through with him,” Steve said.

“What?” Pete was trying to climb onto the bed.

“Nothing, nothing,” he said, distracted. “Honey- do you need something?”

“I had to go potty,” Pete said, as if this explained anything at all. “And then I wanted to see if you
were on your run. But your bed was all normal. And you don’t do that until after breakfast. So I
came to get Daddy to look for you. But here you are!”

“Here I am,” Steve said, bringing up a knee under the covers to add one more layer between him
and his impressionable five year old.

“Did you have a bad dream?” Pete asked. “I thought I heard a monster last night. In the hall.”

“No such thing as monsters,” he said immediately. “I wouldn’t let them in this house. Not with my
babies in it.” Good Christ, how loud had they been last night? What had possessed them to really
go for it the first time with the kids in the house?

“I want to sleep with you and Daddy,” Pete said, bouncing on his feet. "Pull me up!"

Steve kicked Tony in the shin. This was getting out of hand. He needed back up. The man
mumbled, sitting up again rather wearily. Steve tried to speak in his firmest sounding voice. “Baby,
you need to finish up tonight in your own bed. Okay? Right, Daddy?”

Tony was leaning across him, his head smushed against Steve’s chest. “Yeah, Pete, sorry. Steve
made a mess of the bed. You wouldn’t want to come up here. I, myself, kind of regret-”

“Are you serious?” Steve hissed at him.

Tony was grinning now. Pete cocked his head. “You had an accident?” he asked Steve, rather
kindly too. “Is that why you don’t have undies?”

“I did not pee the bed,” Steve said firmly.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, darling,” Tony said, pushing the covers back. Steve gave him a
look that seared his skin. Tony did his best to undo the damage. “No, buddy, he dropped some- uh,
yogurt- in the bed. We’re going to have to wash these sheets. Best to go back to your room. I’ll
walk with you.”

“You’re naked too,” Pete pointed out, taking his hand.

“Weird,” Tony agreed, giving Steve a wave.

Steve considered his options. He was comfortable- spilled ‘yogurt’ aside (seriously Tony?)- and it
was very early in the morning. He had no clue where all of his clothes had ended up. Tony would
be back shortly and if he knew the mechanic like he thought he did, there was the likely chance of
good morning sex. The damage with Pete already seemed to be done either way…

‘Screw it,’ he thought. ‘I never take risks anymore.’

Sighing, he curled back into the covers, rubbing his feet together with a contented sigh.

The only good thing seemed to be that he could not hear either Tony or Peter from here, which
means that whatever noise they’d made last night had likely not traveled to where the kids’ rooms
were. Morgan would have had to hear them through the bathroom in between. He heard Tony’s
tread in the hall and closed his eyes again.

“Sorry, not the best at thinking up cover stories at the ass crack of dawn and when you consider
my propensity for telling jokes at inopportune times-” Tony was back.

“Shut up and get back in bed,” he said drowsily. “It’s cold without you.”

“Yes sir,” Tony said gladly, crawling under the covers and pressing up against Steve’s backside.

“Yogurt? Really? That’s disgusting. I don’t even eat in bed-”

“Sorry, I panicked,” Tony said. He never sounded as sorry as he should. Laughing. He sounded
like he was on the brink of laughing.

“Did he ask anything else?”

“They continue to be curious why I have hair in weird places but besides that, no not really,” Tony
said, his fingers working over Steve’s side. “But not about me?” Steve pressed. “Why I was here-
like this-?”

“I think they’re more confused why you go back up to your room, at this point, my love,” Tony
murmured. “You belong down here. With us. I like having my family close at hand.”
 What he was saying was sweet, but confusing to process while he was also cupping Steve’s balls.
Steve was trying to keep up. He rolled over, allowing Tony better access. Tony continued his
ministrations, occasionally fondling him in other ways. “Can I give you a blow job?” he asked.

“You brought me off twice like that last night,” Steve protested. “I’m already behind.” Way
behind, counting yesterday morning.

“There’s no score,” Tony whispered into his clavicle. “And I happen to like giving head. Always
have. Especially to someone as gorgeous as you.”

Steve shivered at the words. Tony never lied. Didn’t pretend to like things that he didn’t. He’d
spent the previous night bringing Steve repeatedly to his climax. Letting Steve get him off at the
end of the night had almost seemed like an afterthought to him. “Yeah,” he croaked. “Yeah, I want
you.”

“Good man,” Tony praised him. He folded down the blanket and Steve shivered, either from the
praise or the cool air. The mechanic clucked, getting off the bed and pulling a throw blanket off of
one of the chairs.

“You’re so ridiculous,” Steve told him, when Tony tucked this around his upper body. “Not on the
lips?” he asked when the brunette kissed him on the cheek.

“For some reason,” Tony said, gesturing as he walked around the end of the bed, “my mouth tastes
like dick and balls. And morning breath. Not the most pleasant. Wonder why-” Climbing on the
other side, he kissed Steve’s knee, moving his legs so that they were straddling Tony’s shoulders.
“Guess we’re destined to have a few mysteries.” He licked Steve from root to tip.

Steve swallowed a shout with difficulty. Jerking his head forward, he found that the mechanic's
eyes were on him. They were crinkled at the corners.

“Please tell me that you locked the door this time,” he begged. Tony cocked his head, as if trying to
recollect. Steve squeezed his sides using his ankles. Tony laughed. “I did,” he said, continuing
what he was doing at a leisurely pace. “This would be harder to explain than why you were eating
yogurt in my bed last night. Much harder.”

Steve pulled his pillow around so that he was propped up enough to watch Tony in action. “Your
puns are terrible.”

“You wound me. Words hurt, Captain.”

“Meanwhile…” Steve folded his hands over his stomach, considering his situation. “What am I- a
pillow princess?” Tony’s mouth and hand were working in conjunction; he was too occupied with
what he was doing to answer Steve, which was answer enough in itself. Still he managed an
affirmative noise followed closely by a giggle and then a choking noise that had Steve tugging on
his hair. "I'm a-okay, Captain," Tony said, his voice sounding gravelly.

“Oh my god, I am,” Steve whispered to the ceiling.

Chapter End Notes

Hey- though I enjoy 90% of the comments I get for this story, there are some that
honestly bother me- mostly those pushing for specific things to be done to Steve
sexually. There are plenty of fics out there that are just purely Stony smut (I've written
some of them!) so it seems unnecessary to push those desires onto a character that has
been raped in the past.

Even though he's a fictional character, this story is based on personal experiences, and
I write this story ten chapters ahead so that I won't be influenced by other people's
agenda. Focusing on what he needs to do or have done to him sexually actually feels
really icky. This fic helps me process my own emotions. I think he's complete even if
he doesn't have sex or end up in a relationship, so honestly repeated suggestions that he
needs to do these things to completely recover come across as fairly insensitive. I don't
think people can be "fixed," I think they can be loved.

For most of you, this note won't apply. I love getting comments on this fic, I just want
some of them to be more sensitive. Basically if you wouldn't say them about an actual
person who was assaulted, don't say them about my characters please! It's honestly
kind of a bummer when I get comments like what I mentioned above. I hope everyone
enjoys this fic, but I'm writing it for me.
 Chapter 72

“So Steve’s staying home this weekend and we have to leave?” Morgan asked, sounding astounded
she could get treated so poorly in her own residence. That was 1000% Tony’s genes coming out
there.

“To be fair, I’m not kicking you to the curb cause Steve’s staying home. We’re also going out. You
guys can’t be here alone. You know that.”

“What about next weekend?” Peter piped up from where he was eating his French Toast with
almost indecent pleasure. Also Tony’s genes there. “We could all stay home!” he bargained.

Steve winced. “Next weekend I’ll be out, baby, and I’m taking Daddy with me.”

They stared at him like he was speaking Mandarin. “Wow,” Morgan said. “Just wow.” She laid her
utensils down on her plate with a clatter.

“But maybe the weekend after that…” Steve looked at Tony.

“Ah. Valentine’s Day,” the mechanic said with a twinkle. “Day about love. You want the four of
us to spend it together?” he asked, kissing syrup off Pete’s face. “Bold choice for our first one.
Unique. I’m down with it.”

Steve felt something in his stomach loosen up. He didn’t even know he’d been feeling anxious
about it until Tony had said the word. He didn’t like Valentine’s Day when he was single and he
didn’t like it when he was in a relationship. Too many expectations.

“What about Natasha?” Tony said. “I could see you guys having some kind of Galentine’s-”

“Sometimes we do, but even that’s not set in stone,” Steve mused.

“What about your mom? I’ve spent the last couple of Valentine’s Days alone. It’s pretty rough
even if you’re in good mental health. Can we invite both of them? And the others if they wanted to
come-?”

“And do some kind of Valentine’s Day what- sleepover in the living room?”

The kids were watching them negotiate. Tony considered it. “Yes,” he said decisively. “But not the
living room. The library. It’s more atmospheric. We can bring down a bed for your mom- there’s
no reason to punish her by making her sleep on the floor. You text your friends. Good plan, kids,”
he said, like they’d been heavily into the party planning process. Morgan preened either way.

“Can I invite Ned?” Pete asked, trailing after Tony.

Morgan tugged on Steve’s sleeve. “I still wish we were all staying here tonight,” she whispered.

He nuzzled her hair. “I know. But you like sleeping over my mom’s?” She nodded. “You guys
really help my mom. She’s always excited when you come over. Can you tell her about our plans
for Valentine’s Day? Will you remember?”

“Yeah!”

“Good girl.” She beamed at him. He pulled out her chair for her, taking her hand. “Why don’t you
and Pete play for a while? I’ve got to take a shower-” He’d crawled back into his clothes from last
night. He was stubbly and felt unwashed. She let go of his hand at the top of the stairs, pelting
down the hall towards Pete.

Tony was in his room, stripping out of his own clothes and Steve stopped in the doorway,
marveling at the fact that they could do this. “Want to join me?” Tony asked with a wink.

He shook his head, smiling. He did want that. But the kids were up now and there was only so
much they could get away with. “Behave, Tony.” But he watched the man with interest.

“This is going to be a good weekend. I can tell.” Tony blew him a kiss and Steve pulled the door
shut, stopping in to peek in at the kids- they were building with their blocks and animals- before
heading upstairs.

So Tony thought he belonged downstairs now… He stripped off his own clothes and stood in the
bathroom, shaving his stubble away. Tony had liked the beard burn. He found himself blushing
just thinking about it. He dumped the clothes in his hamper, feeling like he was forgetting
something.

It was only when he was getting into the shower that he realized- he’d had fun the whole time. He
hadn’t thought about what had happened in the past at all. Ducking under the water, he began to
cry, feeling a mixture of relief and old sadness all at once.

And when he got out again- he felt a little better.

He spent much of the afternoon in the playroom with the kids, helping them build, doing the heavy
lifting and the boring stuff for them. He coaxed Tony in- Tony always seemed a little hesitant at
first, as if someone was going to penalize him for playing, even now, even in his own home. Soon
though-

Tony was chasing them around the room, the kids shrieking with laughter whenever he got ‘close’
to catching them. They ducked around Steve, hiding in his armpit or climbing ungainly over his
lap.

Things changed when Tony finally caught Peter, giving him a throw into the air that made Steve
bite his lip. They loved it- of course, they did- and they wanted him to do it over and over.
Suddenly, it became a lot easier to catch them. “We’re on hardwood floor,” Steve begged finally,
wrapping his arms around Tony’s waist. “Don’t drop my babies.”

“I haven’t dropped them once,” Tony protested, but he lowered them down to the ground.

They had dinner at his mom’s house before going to the show.

“Have you seen this before on Broadway?” Tony asked, leading Steve up to their seats. He shook
his head. “Off off Broadway,” he said. “A long time ago. We had the movie version of it. But I
haven’t watched that either, not since I was a teenager.”

Tony had picked one of the box seats to the side of the theater. Less people to see them. He could
see where they’d sat in the fall to see Rent with the others. He loved looking around this old stage.
Tony tapped him. “I thought this was your favorite musical,” Tony said in surprise.

“It is,” Steve mused. “It’s so much fun.”

“Then why…?”

“Joseph was my dad’s name,” Steve said, taking Tony’s hand. “He got sick when I was fourteen.
Died when I was sixteen. We used to watch it together- he loved it too. I stopped watching
afterwards.”

“You should have told me, Steve.”

“No, no, I love this musical. And if I was going to watch it with anyone… I think I’d like it to be
with you. My dad would have been mad at me for stopping anyways. He laughed every time we
watched it. I laughed cause he was laughing. He didn’t want me to be so sad.”

“How did he die?” Tony asked tentatively.

“He had-” He gestured towards his lungs, unable to say it. “We found it too late.”

“Sorry, Steve.”

He nodded, playing with Tony’s fingers. “We were all sorry,” he said quietly. “He was a really nice
guy. I try to be like him.”

“Do you think he would have liked me? Like your mom likes me?”

Steve nodded firmly. “Yes. You make me laugh. All the time,” he added, covering Tony’s hand
with both of his now. “You make me feel safe. And loved.” Christ, he was getting misty again. “I
feel like I’ve been searching for you my whole life. Thanks for finding me.”

Tony brushed his nose against Steve’s hairline. “You found me, remember?”

“Oh, yeah,” Steve laughed. “I did. Thanks, Tony.”

“It’s really nothing,” the other man tried to deflect. Steve wouldn’t let him get away with that. “I
never told him I was bisexual,” Steve said, looking up when the lights began to dim. “Wish I had.”
Holding on to Tony for dear life, he watched the show rather breathlessly.

He felt all of his years at once- 8 years old and his mom and dad were letting him stay up to watch
the movie with him, 12 years old and he was forcing the little redheaded girl who’d moved in next
door to watch it with him, 15 years old and his dad was sick and he didn’t know how to handle
that, but Dad would sit with him, his large hand on Steve’s neck and he’d pretend these moments
would last forever. They hadn’t.

“I like the dancer in blue,” he whispered in Tony’s ear. “Look at her go. She’s amazing.”

“I bet you could do that,” he murmured back. “I bet you already know how.”

Steve did actually know. They were using classic choreography and his mom had been a dance
instructor when he’d been a kid… “I’ll show you when we get home,” he promised.

“Good.”
 Chapter 73

Tony, it transpired, had made plans with Rhodey and the kids for Sunday. He traded Steve for the
kids at his mom’s house, and was gone. His mom was already making brunch for them and by the
time she was serving him, Natasha had shown up. Steve was just glad that he hadn’t been expected
to go with Tony to see his friend. He wasn’t ready for that.

“There you are, sweetheart,” his mom said, catching Natasha in a hug. “Hi, beautiful. Good
weekend?”

“Met up with some work friends. We did one of those rage rooms- very cathartic.” She kissed the
back of Steve’s head and took his plate. His mom was already pushing a new plate in front of him.
She yawned. “Hey, scarecrow. How are you?”

“Amazing,” he murmured. He leaned heavily on her. “How’d you know I was here?”

“Mom,” she said, pointing at his mother. “We’re planning her surprise birthday party.”

“That’s right, you’re turning 60 again,” Steve joked. She kicked him under the table. “Ma, you’re
only 60 two- maybe three- times. We have to do something special.”

“That’s why we’re surprising me with a party.”

“Right, right, right,” he said. “And- How is it a surprise if you already know about it?”

“The surprise is for you. We’re having it at your house-”

He choked on his scrambled eggs. “Momma, you know I don’t actually own the Stark mansion,
right? I’m the hired help. I work for a living.”

“Tony’s already agreed,” Natasha told him, thumping him on the back.

“Nobody tells me anything,” Steve mumbled. “Of course he has.”

“Tony loves me. He has good taste.” His mom was grinning crookedly at him. He shook his head,
but if she was smiling, he was too. The tea kettle began to whistle and his mom got up, gesturing
for him to sit back down.

“She never lets me do anything for her-”

“Speaking of secrets, Pete said he found you in Tony’s bed the other day… naked,” Natasha said in
a stage whisper.

He turned red from the neck up, spluttering. He coughed twice, trying not to choke. He’d hoped
that Pete would have been a little more discreet. When had he talked to Natasha? “Not in front of
my mom,” he whispered, gesturing heavily to her to zip it.

“I heard it from her,” Natasha said idly.

He groaned, moving his plate so that he could slam his head against the table. Natasha dragged it
back into place, patting his hand in mock sympathy. “Ma?” he called. She shrugged, coming back
with three mugs.

“I wasn’t going to bring it up,” she said. “Lots of people are having sex before marriage. Would
have saved your aunt a lot of trouble-” He put his utensils down with a clatter. “We don’t have to
talk about it. But do you need me to babysit? You have to plan these things when you have kids.
That’s why we used to send you on so many sleepovers-”

“Jesus in a pickup truck,” he said under his breath.

“Oh, none of that. I’m trying to help you. Was it fun?”

“How would you rate your performance?” Natasha chimed in.

“I’m going to leave-” Steve picked up his plate with every intention of walking out on these two
women for good. They pulled him back down, laughing at him. “I had fun,” he said forcefully, his
ears turning pink. “That’s all you need to know.”

“Good, you deserve some fun,” Natasha said.

“I can’t believe you two.”

“Oh, honey, you’re 36. I’m supposed to pretend you’re virginal for the rest of my days-?”

He snapped his fingers, pointing at her. “That would have been normal.” She giggled at him.
“Normal’s so boring,” she said, looking at him fondly. “Drink your cocoa. It’s getting cold. I love
you.”

“I love you too, you insane lady.”

They moved on to other topics (‘thank fuck,’ Steve thought) including his mom’s piano lessons
(they were going badly), Natasha’s latest trip (he would never be able to do her job), and the ever
popular topic, did they think Bucky would ever marry Sam (opinions were split).

Steve’s thoughts were mixed, considering it from his own perspective. He’d grown up thinking
that he would never legally be able to marry a man and had basically given it up by his mid
twenties. Thinking about Tony though… his stomach twisted pleasurably. Suddenly it was a
possibility. If Tony would want-

His mom was talking to him. “So… how was the show last night? Did you cry?” she asked briskly.

“Of course I did. I cry at everything.”

“It’s true,” Natasha said, nodding wisely. “He does.” She rubbed his shoulder with gusto. “I
showed him this video on facebook the other day. It was just a dog getting groomed-”

“The dog was very old. It was his last grooming! They had to put him in this harness because he’d
had a stroke, Ma-”

“But you liked the show?”

“I loved the show,” he said brightly. “It was so much fun. The narrator was so good and the
choreography was amazing- I’ll show you. Get up, Ma. Dance with me.” She protested, holding up
her plate and pointing at it. “That’s why we invented microwaves. Make fun of me, get what you
get.”

“Alright, fine, show me what you remember,” she said, leaning back to smile at him. He pulled her
to her feet, drawing her into the middle of the living room where there was some space. Natasha
turned in her chair, eating his bacon and watching them.
Taking both of her hands, he spun her.

“You look so much like your dad, Steve,” she said out of the blue.

He blinked, grinning at her uncertainly. “Do I? Really?”

“I think so- what do you think, Nat?”

“Minus the mustache,” she agreed, putting some music on for them. She tossed her phone on the
couch. “Grow some facial hair and you’d be a dead ringer.”

“Ah, the porn stache,” he said, laughing. “I will never grow that- It’s a mustache and full beard or
nothing at all.”

“It was the eighties,” his mom defended. “Everyone’s hair looked bad then-”

“Ma, he had the stache well into the nineties,” Steve disagreed. “Natasha remembers him with it,
for Christ’s sake-”

His mom collapsed into his arms, letting him sway with her and giggling into his neck. She kissed
him fondly. “He was very proud of it,” she said. “You’re your own person, anyways. But you do
remind me of him.”

“I’m glad,” he said. And he was. “I miss Dad.”

 Chapter 74

Steve was noticing more and more that Tony was tired. Like, really tired.

Despite the mechanic’s protests that his AI was finding more time in his schedule, Steve had the
feeling that pressures were building at work. He wondered if he was putting too much pressure on
the man from his end. Tony had certainly made an effort to be more present for the kids. And that
was great.

But did he need to clear so much time for Steve? If it was going to cause him health problems…

Tony had fallen asleep shortly after dinner, folded into the couch. The kids were eyeing him
curiously. Steve understood the confusion. Tony wasn’t the type to sleep before midnight at the
earliest.

He was going to have to talk to Tony about this. Clearly the mechanic was exhausted. But first…
the kids…

“I’ll take care of Daddy. Let’s get you guys in bed.”

He herded them upstairs and worked through their routine, his thoughts a little distracted by Tony
and what was going on at Stark Industries. Still, there was something calming in getting them in
their pjs and giving them their extra hugs and kisses. “See you in the morning,” he promised
finally.

Heading back downstairs, he considered his options. Tony would probably prefer to be woken up,
but he needed his rest. And it wasn’t like he would be hard to carry… Making up his mind, he
slipped the blanket off of the mechanic, wrapped his arms securely behind his back and knees, and
lifted him.

‘Dibs on crossing the threshold someday,’ he thought wildly, trying not to snicker at the mental
image of Tony trying to carry him anywhere. He gave himself a little shake and carried Tony up
the stairs. ‘Married, you’re thinking you’re going to get married,’ he chided himself. He really
should try to get ahead of that.

“Mm?” Tony hummed as Steve was putting him into bed. Steve shushed him. He slipped under
again- good.

Steve pressed kisses to his cheek, worked his way down his neck, kissing reverently, and pecked at
an inch of exposed skin on Tony’s hip where his shirt had ridden up. He worked the blanket up
over Tony’s feet and then the rest of him; when he looked up, he got a shock- Tony’s eyes were
half open. “Hey,” the other man croaked. “Whatcha doing?”

Steve massaged his heart, feeling his heartbeat pound. “You fell asleep,” he said. “I was getting
you in bed.”

Tony quirked an eyebrow. “You carried me up the stairs?”

“I waited until after the kids were in bed.”

“Didn’t want their old man humiliated?”

“Didn’t want them traumatized if I accidentally dropped you,” Steve corrected gravely. Tony
laughed at that, turning his face to nuzzle the pillow.

“Is this my side of the bed now?”

Steve considered the question. He thought back to some of the first times he’d slept in here with
Tony. Tony always said… “I put you on the wrong side,” he realized, getting up. That was his
wife’s side of the bed. Tony always put Steve on his side, probably so that he wouldn’t feel like
Steve was taking her place.

Tony put his hand up placatingly. “It’s my side of the bed when you join me,” he challenged.

“You want me in here tonight?” Steve asked.

Tony shook his head slowly. “Wrong. I want you in here every night,” he said, his eyes fluttering
shut. “But I’d accept tonight. If you want…”

Steve paused. He pulled his sweatshirt up and over his shoulders and let it drop on the ground. He
discarded his shirt as well. He began to empty his pockets onto Tony’s bedside table- his phone, his
keys, and- he hesitated- the arc reactor. He put this facedown to minimize the blue lighting.

Tony was watching him. “You carry that with you, huh?”

He swallowed. “Never know when I’m going to need like a billion kilojoules of energy,” he joked.
He shrugged. Tony’s eyes were dark and velvety. He watched Steve push down his jeans. “You
want these on or off?” he asked, plucking at his boxer briefs.

“The answer is always off,” Tony said. He groaned when Steve pushed them down. “Hng. Turn
around. Give me the full view-”

“You’re ridiculous-”

“Alright, doesn’t have to be 360- just give me 180 and bend a little at the knees-”

“I’m going to put my clothes back on now,” Steve threatened, blushing brilliantly. Tony moaned
piteously and Steve began to laugh. Shaking his head, he bent over Tony to kiss him on the lips. “I
love you. Go back to sleep.”

“I love you. Thanks for carrying me up the stairs. It was very hot.”

He clutched his shoulder. laughing silently. “You were unconscious,” he said, swatting at Tony’s
thigh. “I can’t believe I put up with your bullshit,” he mused aloud, flicking off the light. He
climbed in on the other side of the bed, stretching his toes out like he was going to dive into a pool.

Tony rolled closer. “Want to touch you.”

“You need sleep, Tony.”

“Doesn’t need to go anywhere. Just like the feeling of you.”

Steve sighed softly, fondly. “Come here,” he said, slinging an arm around Tony and pulling him
close. “I like the feeling too,” he admitted. “Are you okay?”

Tony was trailing his fingers down the insides of thighs and back up again. He buried his face in
Steve’s chest and cupped his balls in his hand. Steve almost offered to turn his head and cough but
he could be good. Behave. “Yes,” the mechanic said decisively. “Just a lot of work. Never thought
I’d get to this point with Obie.”
“Ah.” Steve tried to think of the right thing to say.

He shifted with a small grunt. “Don’t want to talk about him while I’m touching you,” he
murmured into Steve’s clavicle. “We’ll find time… some point…”

Steve squeezed his thighs together, momentarily trapping Tony’s hand. He liked how intimate it
felt whenever they did this. “Come on, Tony, close those eyes. You need rest.”

“Okay…”

And he was out. Steve breathed in the smell of his shampoo, nuzzling his hair. He liked this
version of Tony, soft and pliant and very sweet. He dropped a kiss onto the man’s lax lips. It felt
like trust.

He rolled Tony over more so that he was laying on top of Steve. Wiggling his hips, he situated
Tony right where he wanted him. He couldn’t help it- Steve cupped Tony’s ass. “You’re warm,” he
whispered.

“Mmmm.”

He closed his eyes. Tony was shorter than him, a little lighter, and still solid. Sweeping his hand
across the mechanic’s muscular back, he breathed in and out. Yeah. He still liked this. Gently, he
shifted Tony’s head so that it was supported better on his chest.

Tony was acting strange the next morning. Steve had woken up, expecting (hoping) to carry on
where they’d left off the night before. Instead, the bed had been empty. Tony wasn’t even in the
bathroom. He dressed quietly, slipping back up to his own room, wondering what was going on.
His mind churned. Tony hadn’t left the other times. Steve had thought the mechanic enjoyed
waking up with him there.

Unless this was just another byproduct of being overworked…

He took a long time in the shower, trying to scrub the worry out of his skin. He didn’t think
something was wrong per se but then he didn’t know for sure that something wasn’t wrong. He
went back and forth on it as he woke the babies up.

And Tony? He wouldn’t meet Steve’s eyes at breakfast and excused himself to the lab after Steve
got the kids ready for school. The soldier didn’t know what was up.

His stomach churned unhappily all the way to school and he left the kids, feeling preoccupied. Had
he done something wrong?

“Tony?” he asked, making up his mind and sticking his head into the lab. “Do you have a second?”

Tony at least smiled at him now, glancing up. “For you, always. Come on in, Cap.”

He came in, shutting the door behind him carefully. God only knew what Tony was doing now. He
seemed to be building a suit of armor, but Steve didn’t know why. He thought about saying, ‘I
thought you were getting out of the weapons business’ and then didn’t. “Is everything alright?” he
asked. “You were quiet at breakfast.”

“Oh, yeah.” Tony’s shoulders slumped a little. He shuffled his feet. “Sorry.”

So things were odd. “But why? Is there something I can do to help?”

“No, no, nothing.” Tony looked pained. “I’m sorry about this morning.”

“Everyone has their quiet mornings,” Steve said, feeling lost. “That’s okay.”

“No-” Tony looked at him now. “When I woke up. I was-” He made a face. “On top of you. I
know you don’t like that. You specifically asked me not to-” He was startled and looked a little
disgruntled when Steve laughed at that, but Steve just felt very relieved. “Now I’m missing
something-”

“It’s my fault, Tony. Sorry- I didn’t mean to laugh. You’re very thoughtful. I pulled you on top of
me last night.”

Tony blinked. “I thought you said…”

“I don’t usually,” Steve said, cheeks heating up. “Anymore. But I feel safe with you. I like it.” He
was really blushing now. “I was looking forward to waking up with you there. But you were gone.”

The mechanic was mouthing at him. “I thought I’d…”

“I wouldn’t have been mad at you if you’d gotten on top of me anyways, in your sleep. You can’t
help what you do then.” Steve pulled him into a giddy hug. “So you’re not angry with me?”

“Oh jeez, listen to us.”

“What on earth are you working on,” Steve asked, glancing over Tony’s shoulder and petting the
mechanic’s hair.

“Mm, pet project. Nothing important.”

Steve’s eyes lingered on it. It looked almost like… He blinked. “You’re probably busy-” Tony
shrugged at that. “But I never got to hold you this morning. Take five minutes?”

“Take ten,” Tony offered. “Hell, take all my minutes.”

“Can’t do that,” Steve protested, lifting him off his feet. “You’re our main breadwinner-”

Lifting Tony, he balanced the other man’s weight on his arm, swinging around and heading for the
couch. “It’s really unreal that you can do things like this, Captain,” Tony commented drily. “You
realize the rest of us are just trying to carry ourselves across the room. Forget another person-”

“I lift weights when I’m anxious. I’ve been anxious for approximately the last 36 years. You do
the math.” He dropped Tony lightly back down on the floor and rolled onto the couch, slapping his
thighs idly. “Climb aboard.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. We’ve done it before, you know.”

Tony hesitated and then ended up curling on top of him, Steve holding him in place with one arm
wrapped around his ass, the other gripping his thigh. Tony lay there, his head slotted into that
space between his neck and chest. “I can’t stay for long,” he said regretfully.

“S’okay. I’ll take what I can get.” Steve kissed the bridge of his nose, feeling his heart finally
completely calm down. He worked his hands across Tony’s legs, slipping the hand not holding him
up between his thighs and resting it there.
“You like that,” Tony observed.

“Yep,” Steve muttered.

“You know,” the mechanic started hesitantly, “If you’re not ready for one of us to… There’s
always intercrural sex.” Tony was looking up at him. Steve considered it. “But you don’t have to,”
the mechanic added. “It’s just a thought-”

Steve kissed him. “It’s definitely something I’m interested in,” he said, his voice low. “Among
other things.” Tony shivered. “You should probably get back to work,” he said, because one of
them had to be strong. “I’m going to work on the kids’ laundry.”

“They’ve got plenty of clothes,” the mechanic protested.

“We’re like five minutes over your max allotment of time.” He kissed his lips again. And again. “I
like you on top of me, Tony. Who knew? I like holding you. Makes me feel strong.”

Tony crawled off of his lap, looking like a tomcat. He shook his legs out as if they’d fallen asleep
and had to adjust himself. “There’s something to be said for union breaks,” he said drily. “Visit
again soon, Captain.”

“I will,” Steve said cheerfully. He hoisted himself up with an effort.

Slipping around Tony, he slung an arm around his waist and pulled him in close. “Good talk,” he
murmured into the mechanic’s ear. He pressed a kiss over the spot. “I love you. I really do.”

And there was something in Tony’s smile, a surprise and uneasiness, that made Steve double back.
He slipped into the mechanic’s personal space, leaning him back against the desk and kissing him
until he lost his unease, until he seemed as delighted as he always did, until he was laughing in
between pecks. “There’s the joy I love,” Steve whispered. He patted Tony on the thigh. “I like
being on top too,” he said.

Tony spluttered. “Steve-”

He left Tony there, half laying on top of his desk, his hand over his heart. He felt he’d salvaged that
situation nicely.
 Chapter 75

Steve knew he shouldn’t feel so nervous, but he did. Catching Tony’s hand in his own, he pulled
him along the sidewalk, unconsciously striding ahead at an even clip until he noticed that Tony
was nearly jogging to keep up with him. “Sorry,” he said immediately.

“Don’t be sorry. I could use some exercise,” Tony said cheerfully. “Are we running late? Is that
why I’m cantering? I think I just finally burned off whatever I gained at Christmas-”

“No, I’m just nervous.”

“Oh. Because I’m with you?” Tony threw him a teasing look, but Steve thought he knew him
enough to hear some of the mechanic’s self doubt under it all.

“Because I’m with you,” he corrected. “I am? Right-? What are we? Don’t answer that-” He added
sharply as soon as Tony opened his mouth. “Sorry. Sorry-”

“Captain,” Tony said, the word immediately grabbing Steve’s attention. It always did- military
training notwithstanding, Tony was the only person who still called him captain these days. Tony
was smiling gently at him. He pulled Steve up short. “I think we earned back a few minutes when
we sprinted down the road,” he said. “Listen. We’re going to have a quick dinner with your
friends. Then we’re all going to play some games. I like your friends. I like games. But you’re my
favorite.”

He exhaled. Tony somehow always knew the things Steve was looking for. He wished he knew
how. He’d been afraid that there was no one that would ever love him- and here was Tony who
seemed to know exactly what he needed.

“Are we dating?” he asked.

“Fraid so. Quite seriously too.” Tony’s tone was mild, almost dry, but there was that mischievous
spark in his eyes. “Unless I’ve misread this situation. In which case, I think I’m heading for a HR
violation that even Pepper can’t steer me away from.”

“Sounds like a lot of paperwork.”

“And you hate paperwork,” Tony said suggestively. He tugged on Steve’s hand. “Come on. I was
told we were running late.”

“We’re not, really,” Steve said, ears turning red. “Nobody’s going to shoot us if we come into the
restaurant five minutes late.”

“Ah. Then I request that we try to find some middle ground on our pacing. Not all of us have those
gorgeous long legs.”

Steve took his arm, careful now to stay astride Tony. He took a deep breath. “You’re just dating
me for my height, aren’t you?” he teased.

“I’ve always had a thing for tall men. Short women though. Wonder what that says about me?”

“Probably best not to guess,” Steve said ruefully. Tony laughed at him. “Here we are-”

“Should I behave myself?” Tony asked.

“No.”

“Good. I don’t think I could keep it up- Hey!” He raised his voice over the general din of the pub.
The others were there in a circular booth, waving to them from across the crowded room.

Steve led the way, wending his way through the throng. He thought he saw heads turn in their
direction, but then, maybe they were attracted to the sound of Tony’s shout. He put it out of his
mind.

“There you guys are, you get distracted on your way here?” Sam teased, leaning against the table.

Tony took Steve’s jacket from him, slipping it down his arms and hanging it over the back of one
of the chairs. “We had to park five blocks away,” Steve said defensively. “They did a shit job
plowing-”

“That’s because nobody moves their cars during the storms,” Bucky said wisely. He signaled to
their waitress to bring another round over. Steve sipped from Bucky’s stein; the other man groused
at him.

“Where do you find your clothes, man?” Sam asked Tony, looking at his sweater. It was a blue and
white affair, with what looked like a mix of tiger stripes and leopard spots. Steve had long since
given up on trying to anticipate what Tony might wear. He felt like he couldn’t criticize- he was
wearing a navy blue button down patterned with pink roses. They might as well have a sign over
them- ‘queers sit here.’

“What, you don’t like?” Tony asked, already beginning to grin at the black man.

“I’m not criticizing, I’m just saying- sometimes you’re Mr. GQ and sometimes you’re the Gorton’s
Fisherman.”

Steve took a swig of his beer when it came, listening to Tony’s breathy laugh. He downed it,
feeling his nerves. He didn’t know why he was crazy like this. Unlike Tony’s friend, his friends
happened to like his love interest. They’d all spent time together before. So what was different-?

Tony’s hand crept over his shoulder, giving it a good squeeze. Somehow, without even looking at
him, Tony knew he was anxious. He grasped it with his own hand, pressing a kiss to his knuckles.

Sam and Tony seemed to be talking about jetpacks- why, Steve didn’t know (perhaps he should
worry about what the two of them would come up with together)- Bucky slid out of his end of the
booth. “Shove over,” he said to the table at large, forcing them all to scoot to the side so that he
could sit on Steve’s other side. Bucky bumped knees with him. He mustered up a smile.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” Tony asked then.

“Me?” Steve asked, surprised. The whole table was suddenly looking at him.

“Yes, you. You’re gorgeous,” Tony said. Leaning in, he stole a kiss from Steve, who was too
surprised to react. “Who do you have to screw in this joint to get food?” the mechanic asked next,
seemingly unaware of the fact that he’d just jump started Steve’s heart.

“We’re attracting attention,” Steve noticed, looking around the place. He said this to Bucky- the
other three were bent over the apps menu, arguing about the pros and cons of several cheese
related entrees.

“Probably jealous of the two of you,” Buck said. “Both of you are lookers and Tony’s obviously
utterly infatuated with you-”

He threw his straw at the man, cutting him off with his objections.

“If I’m good tonight, will you guys let me keep coming to game night?” Tony asked excitedly.

“Depends on if you’re willing to put your money where your mouth is,” Sam told him. Tony
laughed silently at this, his chest vibrating.

“We don’t play for money,” Steve said from his spot on Tony’s other side. “Don’t scare my
boyfriend away!”

“We play for glory,” Natasha interjected.

“I’ll pay for whatever cheese monstrosity it is that you desire, though,” Tony said, leaning his
elbow on the table. He looked adoringly at Steve. “What do you want, Cap? Anything in
particular?”

He considered. “Cheese bites,” he said. “I always want fried cheese.” Tony grinned, nodding. Steve
stole Bucky’s beer- he was nursing it anyways and sometimes Steve thought he was more fun
when he was a little intoxicated.

And the alcohol was probably working cause-

“You know what?” Steve threw caution to the wind. Surging into Tony’s space, he gave him the
filthiest kiss he could manage in their enclosed space, pushing Tony up against Sam who protested
mildly but was laughing at him and cheering him on and Steve felt something shake loose inside of
him.

Breaking off the kiss, he finished off Bucky’s beer, feeling more than a little pleased with himself.

“Woah,” Tony said, now just plain leaning on Sam. “Does he always do that on game night?”

“Get off of me, man-”

“Has anyone told you that you’re incredibly hot?” he asked Steve next. Next to Steve, Bucky
belted out a laugh. Steve shook his head, gazing at Tony.

“You two are sickening,” Natasha called. “Next round is on me. We’re going to need tequila to get
through tonight.”

“I am not drinking tequila after what happened at Sam’s 35th birthday,” Bucky protested, but they
all knew he’d have a margarita before the night was through.

Steve dragged the appetizer over when it arrived. “What are you guys going to eat?” he asked
innocently.

They volleyed insults at him. Steve felt pleasantly light, a little buzzed, and aroused by what Tony
was doing under the table. He felt Bucky’s hand on his back and he felt safe. “I love you guys,” he
said.

“Especially me,” Tony intoned.

“Nah-”

Tony gasped.
 Chapter 76

Something was wrong.

He shouldn’t have had so much to drink- it didn’t look good for a captain- but it had been a hard
day and the others in his command didn’t judge him; they knew, he thought, that he was a good
commander. He’d split up from his buddies at the bar, finally begging off around one in the
morning.

He remembered Bucky watching him from his spot with their buddies, his gray blue eyes studying
him, and he’d kissed him filthily on the mouth, too drunk to care what others would think- it had
been funny- they’d all laughed-

He didn’t even remember getting from the bar to base.

There had been a noise behind him.

He’d turned- And something had slammed into him, splitting his head open with pain, panic, the
color red. Absurdly, his first thought had been, ‘did I lose a tooth? Dad won’t be able to fix my
teeth this time-’

Whatever had hit him came down again, cracking against his ribs. It had pushed all the air out of
his lungs. He gasped-

“Steve! Steve, wake up-”

He sat up with a jolt, scaring Tony, who had been leaning over him. Their heads collided painfully;
Steve swore, lurching backwards, back onto his bed- ‘but I’m not safe when I’m lying down-’

Tony must have seen something in his eyes because he scrambled off the bed, reaching over and
flicking on the lights so that for one moment, Steve was completely blinded by the change in
brightness. Then, everything clicked into place.

‘Safe with Tony, safe here, safe in general, you big fuck-’

“I’m right here, baby,” Tony said, holding his hands out so that Steve could see them. He didn’t
get any closer than where he was standing. “There’s my captain. There’s the man I love. You’re
okay, Steve. I’m right here.”

“What’s happening?” Steve gasped, feeling like he’d been doused in cold water. “Where-? What
happened?”

“Bad dream. I got you. I won’t leave you alone.”

Steve hauled himself back, feeling ashamed of himself. He knew where he was. He knew who
Tony was. He wasn’t back there anymore. He was never going back. They couldn’t redeploy him.
He was better, for Christ’s sake. “I was dreaming?” he asked, because it had felt very real. He
touched his ribs gingerly. They were fine. “How’d you know?”

“I was going up the back staircase and I heard a noise up here. I thought-” Tony’s face twitched
into the brief approximation of a smile, but he wasn’t really smiling and he didn’t seem to find this
whole thing very funny on the whole. “But then I got up here and I knew I was wrong. You’re kind
of hard to wake up, beautiful.”
Steve inhaled; he exhaled. “Sorry,” he said.

“Stop that,” Tony said less than diplomatically. That startled Steve enough to raise his head again.
“Let me hug you?” Tony asked next, sounding rather desperate. “Please? Is that okay?”

His skin was clammy, the sheets damp. “Can I come to bed with you?” he asked, sounding so
much younger than he was at that moment that he was temporarily confused.

“You belong in bed with me,” Tony said.

Steve swung his legs out from under the covers. “I have to- I should change,” he muttered,
plucking at his shirt. “Sweating… a lot…”

“I’ll wait in the hall,” the mechanic agreed. “Take your time.”

He stripped out of his clothes at once, splashed some water in his face in the bathroom, and took
what proved to be a fairly shaky piss. His hands were shaking. He stared at them,
uncomprehending.

Instead of dressing, he strode across the room, opening the door to where Tony was waiting. The
man rocked on his heels, giving him a once over and then looked back up into his eyes. Steve felt
ridiculous. He held out his hands, showing Tony the tremors. “Can you help me?” he asked.

Tony took his hands, giving them both kisses. “Yes,” he said decisively. “Sit on the bed, baby.”

Steve watched him as he moved around the room, looking through drawers to find where he kept
his clothes. He grabbed a pair of boxers and then some of Steve’s sweatpants. The shirt that Steve
had stolen from him all those months ago. “I stretched it out,” Steve admitted hoarsely. “Sorry.”

“That’s cause you’re so ridiculously broad,” Tony said. He worked the shirt onto Steve’s arms and
then up and over his head. “Okay to hug you?” he asked and the captain nodded. Tony squeezed
his shoulders, working his fingers over the nape of his neck. “You’re okay, baby. I love you.”

Next, he knelt in front of Steve, threading his legs through first the leg holes of the boxers and then
the sweats. Steve was coming back into his body now and felt ridiculous, but he stood up and Tony
worked both articles up his legs with the skilled efficiency of the parent that he was.

“I was remembering- I don’t know why-”

Tony’s eyes were watery as he stood back up. He waited for Steve. Steve just shook his head. “It
wasn’t real?” he asked.

“Just a bad dream,” Tony confirmed. “It’s over and done with. You’re with me.”

“What if the babies found out about me, someday?” Steve asked. “They have this mental image of
me. I want to be that person. Not this one.”

“That person and this one are the same thing, Cap.” Tony thumbed away moisture from under his
eyes. “They might find out what happened to you someday. But they won’t think less of you. You
and me, we’re going to spend the rest of our lives making sure our family is safe. Including you.”

He pressed his hand to Tony’s heart, feeling the pulse beating there. Strong and steady. That’s how
he wanted to be. “I shouldn’t have drank so much that night,” he gasped.

“That’s not your fault-”

“I was sad. My dad had died- that day- but earlier…”

Tony looked up at him then, his eyes understanding. “Same day?” he asked softly.

“We went to a bar. I’m going to-” Tony had the wastebasket under his mouth before he could finish
the sentence and that was good because Steve’s stomach had been roiling. He heaved; Tony
brushed his hair back.

“Didn’t know I was going to do that,” he gasped. “Sorry.”

“Let’s wash your mouth out,” Tony said in reply. “Brush those teeth of yours.”

“My dad was a dentist,” he said, following the mechanic into his attached bathroom. “He was the
one- straightened my teeth- When I was hit? Thought- that guy- he’d knocked a tooth out. But no-”
He swished and spit the little dixie cup of water into the basin. “I’m not making any sense.”

“Because you’re tired. Come downstairs. Please?”

He felt very wrongfooted. “Yes. Okay.” He inhaled.

 Chapter 77

They hadn’t had a chance to talk about Monday night since it had happened. Tony had been very
gentle with Steve, but Steve still felt a little bit ashamed of himself, remembering how he’d reacted
to his nightmare.

Still though-

“Made it. I’m here-” Tony dropped down in the seat beside him. “Hi, kids. I didn’t think I’d make
it-”

Steve nudged his knee. “They haven’t called us in yet. Take a breath. Your meeting went long?”

“I swear the board does it on purpose,” Tony said tersely under his breath. He smiled at Pete when
the toddler came up to him. “Hi, cutie. How are you doing?”

“Daddy, I don’t want shots,” Pete said, clutching his knee.

“I know, bud, but you need them to stay healthy. Daddy’s going to hold you when it comes to that.
Unless you’d like Steve? He’s big and strong.”

“They’re not so bad,” Steve said softly. “I had to get a lot of shots when I was in the army. It’s just
a pinch.” He took Peter up in his lap, rubbing his back. “It comes at the end. You don’t have to
think about it right now.” But he knew from the expression on Pete’s face that he would be
thinking about his vaccines the entire time they were there. He caught Tony’s eye. Tony saw it too.

“It’s okay to be scared,” Tony said, kissing Pete’s fist. “Everyone feels that way, from time to
time.”

Morgan had to be coaxed when they finally did call their names; she was, however, intent on
continuing to play with her new friend, a 2 year old boy with dark skin. Morgan strode ahead of
them down the hall, walking beside the medical assistant. She answered all the questions,
essentially verifying not only her date of birth but also Peter’s. Steve hoped she never learned his
social.

Steve carried Pete down the hall, murmuring in his ear.

“Shoes off, bud,” Tony said, coming over to slip them off of his feet. “They’re taking your height
and weight.”

“I’ll hold your coats.” Morgan dumped hers in his hand as well. He slipped into the exam room
they’d been shown, folding the coats and boots onto the bench in the corner. He came back out to
watch them with interest.

“Did I grow? Am I tall now?” Morgan was excited.

They were bustled into the exam room, Tony taking a seat next to Steve on the bench. Morgan
bossed Peter into playing with the maze on the wall of the room. He kept glancing at them. The
medical assistant led them through a series of questions, starting with Morgan and ending with
Peter.

“The doctor will be in shortly,” she said at last, closing the door behind her.
Pete launched himself at them the minute she was gone. “No shots,” he begged.

“Are shots bad?” Morgan questioned. She put her hands on her hips.

Steve gave Tony a look. If they weren’t careful, they were going to end up with two nervous kids.
He scooped up Morgan. “No. They keep you healthy. You’re both going to be fine.” He bounced
her in his arms. Tony was murmuring quietly in Peter’s ear.

There was a knock on the door and then the door was opening. “Hello, hello-”

“Lisa,” Tony said, sounding happy. Morgan slid down to the ground.

Steve was surprised; he’d heard a lot about their pediatrician when setting up this appointment but
Tony hadn’t adequately prepared him. Dr. Lisa was short- possibly 5 feet tall max, with strong
arms and curly hair. He thought she might be sixty but it was hard to tell. She looked younger. And
as soon as she entered the room, she was in command of it.

“Oh, look at you two,” she said, giving Morgan a hug. “You’ve gotten so big.”

“I’m tall-”

“And who’s this?” Dr. Lisa gave Steve a curious look, lifting Morgan onto the examination table.

“This is Steve Rogers. He takes care of the children. They’re very taken with him.”

“Well, who wouldn’t be,” she said, a quick rejoinder that had Tony grinning at him. Steve blushed.
Dr. Lisa began to ask questions of the kids, listening to their breathing and checking their ears and
throats. She checked their development. Steve liked that she asked permission before she checked
under their underwear.

“Peter’s gotten a lot healthier since the last visit,” she observed to Tony. “How’s his asthma been?”

“We keep the inhaler just in case but he doesn’t use it much.”

She let the kids wander back to the maze, standing close to where Tony and Steve were sitting. “It
might have been exacerbated by his anxiety. How is that?”

Tony closed his hand over Steve’s, giving it a tiny shake. “Much better. That comes down to Steve.
He’s a constant in our lives, gives us some stability.”

Lisa nodded. Steve could tell there wasn’t anything she missed. He had a feeling she understood
that their relationship extended past the professional level. He was surprised when she took his
hand. “Well, then, from the bottom of my heart, you have my thanks. They’re wonderful kids,
aren’t they?”

He had to grin. “They’re amazing,” he agreed. He could tell Morgan was listening. He drew her to
his side. “I’m very proud of them.”

“And what about you, Dad? How are you doing these days?”

“Much better, Lisa.”

Watching them interact, Steve thought that Tony might have a couple of maternal figures in his
life. He found that he was glad. The kids’ pediatrician genuinely seemed to care for Tony, for his
own sake. Steve listened to them talk as he got the kids back into their clothes.
“Alright, angels, we’re almost done. You’ve got a couple of vaccines and then you’re all done.
Remember to take a book, okay?” She clasped Tony’s hand, giving it a visible squeeze. “I’m so
glad to see you flourishing.”

And she was gone. “She’s a force of nature,” Tony intoned in his ear.

Peter crawled into Steve’s lap. “Steve, I don’t like the shots,” he whispered, diverting his attention.

Tony leaned in, giving him a kiss. “Good news, Pete. I asked them to break up your big shot into
three much smaller ones. Isn’t that better?”

Pete considered this. “I guess,” he said, playing with Steve’s hands. Steve gave Tony a questioning
look. ‘I’ll explain after,’ Tony mouthed at him. He nodded.

Morgan got her shot first, sitting on Tony’s lap on the exam table. Even she didn’t like the shots-
she hung on to Tony’s thumb, turning into his chest; he brushed her hair, murmuring to her. When
it was over though, she wanted to watch Peter.

Pete was a lot less calm. “Both of you,” he begged, reaching for Steve when he tried to step out of
the way. Steve had to negotiate with the medical assistant for where he could stand; he and Tony
hung on to him so that he wouldn’t move. Only his arm was visible.

“Shh, pumpkin,” Steve said, stealing him out of Tony’s lap when it was all done with and Peter
was fighting a losing battle with some sniffles. “Give me a hug. I’ve got you. Poor baby.”

Tony was getting the medical information sheets on the vaccines from the medical assistant. “You
guys did so good. Even Steve,” he joked. He helped get their coats on.

“Especially me,” Steve said, scooping them both up.

“Let’s get pizza for dinner,” Tony said, leading the way out. He waved to Lisa where she was
seated in a shared office. “You want me to take one of them or-?”

“Nope, they’re mine,” Steve said, holding them close. “Get the doors, sir-”

“Wow, such treatment.” Tony zipped up his jacket, holding the door to the lobby open. Outside, it
was getting dark.
 Chapter 78

The kids had successfully remembered to mention the sleepover to their friends and to Steve’s
mom. Steve, of course, had forgotten to mention it to his friends. And Happy had tacitly said no,
surprising none of them. Steve called Natasha hastily two days before and explained the plan.
“Will you come?”

“My original plan was to binge some Robin Williams movies and eat a ton of ice cream, but I
guess for you I can move some things around.”

“Uh, we should definitely do that as well sometime, but yes please. I want you there. Tony
specifically requested you. You have been summoned.”

“I wondered what that incessant pulling feeling was.”

“It’ll be fun,” he said enthusiastically, feeling some of his excitement begin to flood in now that
she’d said yes. He hadn’t even realized he was looking forward to this until now. “Just like when
we were kids. A proper sleepover.”

“You sleep in my bed all the time,” she said loftily.

“This is different.”

“Yes, I suppose this means I have to wear pajamas,” she said, sounding amused.

“Uh, yes, please,” he said. She was ridiculous. He could feel the smile on his face. “Considering
it’s going to be Tony and the kids and the kids’ friends and my mom. Clothing would be nice.”

Tony leaned in close to the phone. “Do you not normally wear pajamas when you’re bunking with
Steve?” he asked.

“Mm, I’ve usually got something on,” she said, her voice teasing.

“Why is that so hot?” Tony asked the room at large.

“Why are you two like this?” Steve moaned.

Tony snapped his fingers, pointing at Steve’s face. “Because of this reaction, my darling captain.
It’s just too much fun to ignore.”

“So it’s my fault?”

“Don’t like being flustered, stop looking so cute when we fluster you-”

Steve clapped his hands for emphasis. “Everyone needs to be wearing clothes at this shindig.
Clothes that cover vital parts. Clothes that are not sheer.”

“Wow, what a wet blanket,” Natasha said brightly. “Are the frenemies coming?”

“Sam’s bringing Bucky on a tropical vacation. I called them before you.”

“Sounds like they made out better than you. You’re dating the millionaire and still end up on the
floor?”
Tony giggled at that. “Doesn’t seem fair, huh? But it’s what he wanted.” He was looking at Steve
with a great deal of fondness and this made Steve swallow all of his objections. He basked in the
glow of Tony’s love.

“It’s exactly what I want. And I want you to be there,” he added, speaking into the phone. “It’s
going to be fun, baby.”

“It’s always fun with you. Okay. I’ll come over and help you set up.”

“You’re the best!”

She had come over when the kids were at school the next day. They maneuvered, with some
difficulty, a fold out bed for his mom- Natasha tested the mattress and deemed it suitable for a
woman of her age-

They had a lot of fun setting up the fort for the kids on the other end of the room. It took some
manipulation, but they were able to make it large enough to fit two blow up mattresses in there.
Steve crawled around inside the fort, putting sheets on the mattresses and then tossing in some
pillows and blankets; above him, Natasha worked Christmas lights into the top of the fort.

And- “One mattress? Where am I going to sleep?” she asked archly, looking at the mattress Steve
currently had filling.

“Left, right, or center?” he suggested, pointing out the possibilities to her and feeling rather cheeky.
“It’s a king sized air mattress.”

“I didn’t even know they made them that big. Don’t you think you two will want some personal
space?”

“I think having you in the middle of us is a pretty solid way to get Tony to behave-”

“Hey!” an indignant voice said from the doorway. “You really think I’m going to get frisky in front
of your mom and four preschoolers. Who do you take me as?” He pecked Steve on the lips.
Looking around the room, he deadpanned, “wow, I would never know this used to be the library.”

“We’re going to go shopping. You pick the kids up from school,” Steve said. “Bring them
somewhere for lunch so we can sneak the stuff back in.”

“So bossy,” Tony said fondly. He opened his wallet. “Here’s my card. Have fun, kids. Nat- we
could get another mattress if you don’t want to share?”

She shook her head. Brushing past the mechanic, she kissed his cheek. “More fun this way. I’ll
behave myself if you will.”

“Deal. If you start going off the tracks, I’ll be right there with you-”

“You guys are awful. Put a different shirt on when you pick the kids up. This one’s covered in oil-”

“Sir, yessir!”

“I don’t know why I put up with that man,” he said loudly, steering Natasha through the mansion
and towards the back. But he was smiling.

“He makes your Ovaltine boil!” Natasha crowed. Steve giggled at her. They quoted Golden Girls
back and forth in the car. He could actually feel it in his face muscles where he’d been smiling so
much.

Natasha, despite his protests, put her feet up on the dash as he drove them to the nearest Target. He
let her choose the music. She put on her seventies music, singing along and occasionally botching
the lyrics. He sang as her backup, making her laugh at him when he tried to hit the high notes.

“Can I ask you something?” he asked, finding a cart for them when they’d arrived.

“I give you blanket permission.”

“Do you think,” he asked slowly, distracted by a shirt that he thought Peter would like, “think that
Tony would ever marry me? Sometimes it seems like he thinks about it. But maybe that’s just
wishful thinking.”

She looked up at him, an expression there and gone before he had time to really analyze it. “Is that
what you want?” she asked.

“It snuck up on me,” he confessed, grabbing the shirt after some brief thought. “I never thought I’d
get married. I was beginning to give up on love.”

She hummed. “He’s just waiting for you to be ready, I think,” she said at last. They jammed four
ridiculous beanbag chairs under the bottom of the cart and moved towards the snacks, occasionally
picking up other items.

“Would you be sad if I got married?” he asked, because it made him nervous.

She scoffed. “No. Of course not.”

“Our relationship might change.”

“It has in the past as well. No, I’ll be very happy for you when it happens. I love you. And I
actually really love Tony too. I wasn’t expecting that.” She bumped shoulders with him. “Let’s
pick out snacks.”

“You’re always going to be my baby sister,” he told her. “Always.”

 Chapter 79

Ned and Peter were already in the playroom, bent over some of Peter’s lego sets, when the doorbell
rang. Morgan, who’d been watching them play from the door, brightened up. “My friend?” she
asked.

“Could be,” Steve said. “Come with me and we’ll check.”

It was probably her friend- his mom was in the kitchen with Tony and Natasha- and this was good
because the look on her face when she’d been hovering on the edge of the room made him sad. He
hoped it was her friend.

“Yay!” Morgan hollered, pelting to the door when she saw a little outline on the other side of the
opaque glass. She waved her hand frantically. “Steve, come on!”

“I’m coming, baby-”

He hustled, feeling his usual case of nerves right before he opened the door, but he could do this.

There was a little girl and a woman a little younger than himself on the threshold. “Hi,” he said,
feeling awkward, “this must be Michelle. Come in.”

Morgan was already pulling the other little girl into the house, pulling her away. “Don’t run away
just yet, Michelle probably wants to say goodbye to her mom before she goes,” he called. “I’m
Steve. I’m- I help take care of the babies.”

“Elena,” the other woman offered. “I hear a lot about the Stark household from MJ.”

“I can show you around. Introduce you to Tony- Mr. Stark.” Why was he so bad at this? Elena
didn’t seem to notice.

“Steve, can we go upstairs?” Morgan begged. “I want to show MJ my room.”

He glanced over at Elena who nodded. “Yes, baby. Morgan-” he stuttered, but she was already
gone. He could do this. “Morgan’s been talking about MJ for months now.”

She brushed hair out of her face. “MJ has never been… talkative, but she does mention Morgan
more than the others. And Peter,” she added with a smile. “I think she’s got a crush on him. But
she’ll never admit it. She’s definitely interested in him, at least.”

“On Petey?” Steve felt himself smiling against his will. “He’s oblivious.”

“Well, they’re little anyways-”

He brought her around to the different rooms, showed her where the kids would be sleeping,
introduced her to his mom, brought her into the kitchen to meet Tony, and doubled up to the
second floor where the four kids were raising a ruckus. “Are you sure you want to do this?” she
asked but he felt like laughing. “It’s going to be fun,” he promised. “Do you have anything fun
planned?”

“My husband is taking me out on a date since you’re babysitting. He had to work this morning-”
She called out a goodbye to her daughter who was deep in conversation with the other three
children. Elena was basically ignored.
“We’ll take good care of her,” Steve promised.

They exchanged numbers at the door. Steve cocked his head, listening to the din upstairs. The kids
were definitely having fun, but months of working with kids had at least afforded him a sense of
distinguishing when he needed to worry and when they were doing normal levels of activity.

He touched the back of his jaw as he made his way to the kitchen. It felt almost like-

“Sorry, I would have played a better host but we’re losing this cake,” Tony said from where he and
Natasha were clustered around the counter. “Why’d we think we could do this?”

“You wanted to do something nice for Steve,” she reminded him cheerfully. “It’s not so bad. It’s
just hideous-”

“Alright, hey, you can’t insult my cake in front of my face-”

“I’m sure it will taste fine,” Steve said over their bickering. He felt inordinately fond of both of
them. Tony and Nat sure brought the chaos out in each other. “You guys are wonderful. I’m going
to find my mom.”

He left them in the kitchen, feeling an unsubstantiated suspicion that they were plotting something
together. Still, he trusted that between the two of them they would come up with something fun.

He checked in on the kids again. The four of them were building something with the legos, so quiet
now as compared to before that he wondered if they’d been replaced by pod people. Morgan was
the only one who noticed him in the doorway; she dashed over, hugged his legs, blew him a kiss,
and was back across the room before anyone had noticed she was gone.

He made his way upstairs, finding his mother in her usual room. “Hiding?” he teased.

“Taking a nap,” she countered. “I have a feeling we’re not going to get any sleep tonight.” She
pointed at the other side of the bed. “Stay with me for a bit.”

“Okay,” he said agreeably.

“Are the two of you officially dating now?” she asked, climbing under the covers. She took his
hand in hers, holding it over the blankets. “That’s what Tony says,” Steve said, tilting his head in
her direction and grinning at her. “He’s wooing me. Make sure to make fun of him about that-”

“I will,” she agreed. He loved the laugh lines around her mouth. He wondered sometimes how
she’d gone on, all these years, rebuilding and repairing after each bad moment. How Tony did it.
He’d felt pretty defeated these past three years.

“Are you ever lonely?” he asked. “Without Dad?”

“I miss Dad,” she said. “But I’ve got you and Natasha and Bucky and all of his sisters and now
Tony and my friends…” She closed her eyes. “Most of all, I have you. I couldn’t be lonely as long
as I have you.”

He kissed her cheek. “I love you. I’ll wake you in an hour?”

“Sounds good.”

They fed the kids pizza for dinner. The kids laughed at Tony’s attempt at a cake but ate it anyway.
“So much criticism,” Tony mumbled, but he was watching the kids with bright interest.
Peter caught Steve’s hand. “Help with my pjs,” he said. “Come upstairs.”

Pete didn’t really need help getting dressed these days, but he seemed to like to show Steve off to
his friend so Steve sat gamely enough on his bed as they scrambled into their nightclothes. Peter
had insisted on hiding his training undies despite their best attempts to placate him; Steve hoped
they’d get through the night with no accidents, but thought it was unlikely.

Similarly, his black cat plushie was sleeping on Tony’s bed for tonight.

He liked Ned, liked both of the kids’ friends really, but thought Ned was particularly funny. He
was just so different from Peter and so similar in other ways. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he
answered all of Ned’s questions with Pete occasionally chiming in and he wondered if they were
going to be friends for as long as he and Bucky had been friends. He hoped so.

Downstairs, Natasha had set up the dance game in the living room. He tumbled down into the
place between Tony and his mom, massaging the back of his jaw idly. “You having fun?” Tony
asked, taking his hand.

“Lots,” he agreed. “Momma, you might have to show them how it's done. Look how sloppy they
are.”

“You’re full of shit, they’re toddlers,” she whispered back. But she got up gamely enough, calling
over her shoulder that they would be expected to join in. He protested but they all knew that he’d
be out there soon enough.

For now, he was happy to sit on the couch, watching with Tony at his side.

Tony slotted more into his space. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Captain.”

“Happy Valentine’s,” he echoed, reaching out to grasp Tony’s fingers with both hands.

“You having a good day?”

“I’m having a great day. I’m with you.”

Tony’s features were soft, the beginning of crow’s feet forming at the corners of his eyes, small
laugh lines around his mouth. Steve had never known that being older could be so attractive. When
he looked over at Steve, the captain could see small flecks of honey in the brown of his eyes. “We
should put Natasha in between us,” he said. “Keep it PG.”

“I plan on exclusively snuggling with Natasha,” Tony joked. “We made a pact. To preserve your
honor, of course.”

“How kind of you,” Steve intoned. “Come on- get up. We’re dancing too.”
 Chapter 80

He hesitated in the hallway. This was ridiculous. This was unexpected. He’d been fine one
moment. The next-

It was too much pain to rightfully ignore. And he’d tried to ignore it. He really had. Steve was an
idiot. Peter had noticed something was wrong long before he was willing to admit it himself. So
now here he was in front of the lab. He sighed and knocked. “Come in!” Tony shouted.

He poked his head in. “Tony-”

“Captain, you know you never have to knock-”

“I know. Just being silly- But- Tony, I have kind of a situation developing. Could use your help.
Badly.”

“A situation…?” Tony was clearly still caught up in whatever he was doing. That was okay. Steve
would normally wait but this was becoming rather pressing. He cleared his throat.

“Tony…” He edged into the lab. “Are you busy? Should I call someone else?”

“Never too busy for you, Captain.” Despite what he’d said, Tony looked absolutely swamped at his
desk. He glanced up and stood up quickly. Steve must look pretty bad. “What’s the matter? You’re
pale.”

“I’m always pale,” Steve mumbled, holding his jaw. “I’m Irish. Anyways- mmm. Have you ever
had your wisdom teeth taken out?”

“When I was 21.”

“What did it feel like when you realized you might need…?”

“Stabby pain in the back of the jaw. I’m guessing you’re feeling a need?” Tony was moving
towards him, his hands held out as if to say ‘I am not a threat.’

Steve couldn’t help it; he moaned softly. That dull pain that had started in his jaw a couple of days
ago had only grown. He’d woken up feeling slightly nauseous but he’d done his best to ignore it,
taking a tylenol and going back to bed. He’d hoped it would go away.

Instead it had only grown increasingly over the morning until he reached this point. He’d been
playing with Peter when the drastic change in pain levels had happened. “It feels like someone’s
sticking a knife in my mouth,” he said, suppressing the urge to vomit with difficulty. “I know
you’re working-”

“Oh, that doesn’t matter.” Tony tossed his stylus down.

“This is stupid.”

“Sir, Bucky Barnes is here-” Jarvis poked his head into the lab.

“Interesting development,” Tony said. “You guys really are close. You feel pain and he’s at our
doorstep. Something for science to explore more of-”

“Tony, please, you’re rambling,” Steve interjected. “Bucky- I’ll go get him. We were going to, ah,
it doesn’t matter- I’d invited him.” He followed Jarvis out. Bucky’s day off was today. He was
going to go to the museum with him and Peter.

Bucky was talking to Peter by the time he got to the door. “Hey, I was just telling Pete about my
trip- Jeez, what happened to you?” he asked, looking up and catching sight of Steve’s face. Steve
was really going to have to find a mirror.

“Wisdom teeth- impacted- today it’s a problem.”

“Oh…” Ducking down, Bucky said something to Peter; the five year old wandered off and Bucky
came closer. “When did this start?”

“This morning,” he groaned.

“Naturally, you didn’t say anything. Bet you were going to just ride it out? You look really
miserable,” he said. Steve tried to hum in response and realized that only made things much worse.
“I am,” he ground out.

“Well, we can’t go to the museum. We’ll do that on a different day. Squirt will understand.”

Steve was cut off from protesting by Tony making his way out into the front entranceway. “Hey,”
he said, nodding at Bucky. “I’ve got a solution,” he added, turning to Steve. “Moved some stuff
around. Everything’s going to be fine. He tell you about his teeth?”

“Yeah, but he’s being stubborn-”

“Sounds like our captain.” Tony was looking curiously at Steve. “You’ve never had your wisdom
teeth taken out?”

“Oh, yeah, sure, but they grew back-” He didn’t know why he was being such an ass. Lucky that
Pete had let them alone.

“He’s feisty like this,” Tony told Bucky. “It’s kind of a turn on.” Bucky barked a laugh; Steve
groaned. “Okay, my feisty little captain-”

“Little?” Steve groaned. “Seriously?”

“Cap, I love bantering with you but you’re in a lot of pain. I set up an appointment for my
orthodontist. They’re getting you in this afternoon. Sound good?”

“Who’s going to watch the kids?” Steve asked, pressing his hands to his jaw. He shuddered.

“Uh, I’m not just going to leave,” Bucky said. “And not just so I can watch him shamelessly flirt
with you. Not that it isn’t fun, Tony. I was just telling Steve the museum trip could wait. Back my
play, moneybags.”

“We’re going to take care of you, Cap,” Tony said, hugging him from behind. “Poor baby.”

He blushed scarlet. Bucky smirked at him but otherwise ignored it. Steve could hear them talking
above his head, but he was too miserable to focus. He felt a hand on his hip and looked down. “Oh,
buddy,” he breathed. “I thought you were playing in your room.”

“Steve not feeling well?” Pete asked, hanging on to his shirt. “Do you need to get a shot?”

“Mm, no, my teeth hurt. Daddy’s fixing it.” He picked Peter up, giving him a little squeeze. Pete
reached for his face and Steve willed himself not to wince, but the five year old was gentle with
him and he was inordinately grateful this had happened on the day that it was Pete home from
school and not Morgan. He had a feeling she’d be less delicate.

Jarvis came in, carrying a white paper bag. “Your orthodontist called in an emergency anti-nausea
medication- it will help with the anesthetic.”

Steve let Pete slide to the ground. “Can you do me a big favor and get ready for lunch? Thanks, big
guy.” He waited for the toddler to clear the room. “Do we have to do an anesthetic,” he asked,
feeling queasy just at the thought of it. “I don’t like to be knocked out.” It made him feel unsafe.

“We can talk to the dentist. Or I could stay in the room with you. Would that help?”

He glanced between Tony and Bucky, fighting the urge to apologize. “Yes,” he said heavily.
“Please.”

Tony gave his hand a brisk rub. “I was going to be there, either way. Here’s the prep instructions.
We’ll have those teeth out before you know it.”

His stomach cramped. He gave them a less than enthusiastic nod, turning on his heel to head for
the dining room. “I was going to stop for lunch anyways,” Tony told Bucky, behind him. “Steve’s
rules. Somehow I fall under his purview.”

“Everyone falls under Steve’s purview. It’s a little service he offers.”

Time seemed to move quickly after that. Steve barely ate at lunch- the sheet had indicated he could
eat some things but not others. Bucky and Tony had explained to Pete about the museum, who
seemed more concerned that Steve was in pain than about their adventure. “I’ll pick up the other
squirt,” Bucky offered.

“Oh, shoot, I should call the school to explain,” Tony said, stepping into the hall.

“This is your day off,” Steve mumbled to the brunette.

“Thank goodness,” Bucky said. He looked at Pete on his left. “Steve’s going to be fine, bug. He’s
got this really hard head. He’s unbreakable.”

“Will it hurt?”

Steve spoke up. “No, honey. They’re going to give me medicine so I don’t feel anything.”

“Steve will have lots of ice cream to eat afterwards,” Tony added, coming back into the room. “I
had the same thing when I was younger,” he added, cause Pete still looked worried. “Hurts much
less than what’s happening now. We’ll give Steve lots of hugs once he’s back.”

“Natasha’s going to be sorry she missed you coming off of anesthetic,” Bucky told Steve. “Tony,
you going to record it?”

“It’s a possibility.” Tony glanced up furtively. “We’ll see how pathetic you are once everything’s
said and done.”

“Can’t be worse than how I am now,” he groaned.

“True,” Bucky agreed. He gathered Steve in a hug, pressing a kiss to the corner of his eye. “You’ll
feel better. I’ll see you in a little bit, Stevie. Pete- want to give Steve a hug?” He picked up the five
year old. Peter reached for him, squeezing his neck. “Love you, Steve,” he warbled.
“Thanks, baby. I love you.”

They split up after that, Bucky taking Peter with him to the school and Tony driving Steve to the
orthodontist. “I’m staying with you,” he told Steve as they settled into the room where he’d have
the procedure. “They already agreed to it. That’s why I got this fancy setup.”

“You’re in good hands, Captain Rogers,” his nurse told him.

Figures that Tony would insist on the title, even here. It was so ridiculous, it almost made him
smile now. “I don’t really like being put under…” he said.

“Everything’s going to be okay. Your husband will be in the room at all times. I’m going to have
you count back from 100 now.”

Steve didn’t even have time to look at Tony, wondering if he’d said something to make them
believe the two of them were married or if it was a simple misunderstanding. He clutched the arc
reactor in his pocket, counting backwards slowly and feeling very, very tired all of a sudden.
“100… 99… 98…”

It was dark.
 Chapter 81
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Sam had come over by the time they came home that evening.

Steve was having a hard time keeping things in focus. Tony seemed both near and far away at all
times, his jaw ached, and he was oddly aware of his hands. Like very aware of them and how they
felt like they probably shouldn’t be attached to his arms.

“Come on, honey.” That was Tony. Right. They were home.

“Am I honey?”

It sounded like Tony was trying not to laugh at him. “Yes, you are. You’re my honey. My captain.
Hang tight- I don’t think I trust you getting out of the car yourself.”

And then he was gone. Steve tried to glance behind him, but that made him dizzy. Was Tony going
to come back for him? Is that what he’d said? It was really hard to focus. Maybe he was going to be
stuck here all night. He tried the door- it swung open-

“Told you he’d try to make a break for it-” That wasn’t Tony.

“That’s why I hustled you out here-”

“Why can’t I get out?” he asked, looking up at them. Sam and Tony. Tony and Sam. He tried to get
out and was pulled back. Steve whined. He was stuck.

“Man, you still have your seatbelt on,” Sam said. Ducking into the car, he undid it for Steve which
was great, because Steve’s hands did not seem to be cooperating. “I hear they have you on the good
stuff,” Sam said cheerfully.

“The best stuff… I thought you left,” he said to Tony.

“Just to get Sam. Afraid I’d drop you on my way in.”

“I was sad,” he mumbled, flopping towards the door.

“Aw, baby. I always come back for you. Right, Sam?”

Sam lifted Steve’s knees, swinging them out of the car and setting them on the ground. “We would
never leave you in the car, Steve,” he said seriously. “How you feeling?”

He beamed. “Mm. Stupid.”

They were laughing at him. He wasn’t aware of saying anything funny. He shook his head
experimentally. “I can get up,” he said next.

“Let us help you,” Sam told him. “You’re not exactly light on your feet right now. You got him on
the left, Tony?”

“Yeah. Watch your head, Cap. Last thing we need is a head injury-”
They pulled him to his feet with a tug. He hovered, felt his balance dip, and slid forward, pinning
Tony to the next vehicle over. He could hear Tony’s breathy laugh underneath him. “Hi, baby,” he
said. “You okay?”

“Peachy. You’re a big boy. Sam- help me-”

He gave Sam a cocky grin. “I am big,” he agreed.

“Oh lord.”

“To be fair, he is,” Tony said and Steve preened.

They frogmarched him to the backdoor. Steve couldn’t make out what they were saying. He
moaned when they opened the door and pushed him into the bright kitchen. “S’too bright,” he said.
“Why so many lights?”

“Wow, he’s doped up-”

“Oh. Bucky-” He sat rather ungainly in the other man’s lap. Bucky was grinning at him. He laid
his head down. “They took my teeth,” he mumbled.

“-Natasha’s going to be so mad she missed this-”

“They took your teeth, Stevie?” Bucky asked, bracing him.

“Yeah.” He listed heavily to his right. “Tony, I want ice cream…”

The mechanic brushed hair out of his face. “I’ll get you some ice cream,” he promised. “Maybe we
should get him somewhere more comfortable. Where are the kids?”

“They’re in the living room. We were just about to watch a movie when you came busting in.”
Bucky nudged Sam with his foot. “Go warn the kids that Steve’s out of his mind. Use your people
skills.”

“Sure.” He wandered out of sight.

Steve was tracing Bucky’s jawline. “I love you,” he said, feeling dopey.

Bucky was grinning at him. “I love you too, punk. Don’t let Tony hear you say that,” his friend
said. “He’ll be sad.”

“I love Tony too,” he said, slumping forward. “He’s pretty.”

He heard a cackle from behind him and tried to flop in that direction to look. Bucky swore,
laughing, and grabbed him around the middle, holding him upright. “You’re pretty apparently,” he
told Tony who was back.

“I am pretty,” Tony agreed. He brushed his hand across Steve’s forehead and he mewled, enjoying
the sensation. There was a clink and then Tony was sitting next to- behind?- him. “Oh, Cap,” Tony
sighed. “You’re a lot of fun like this. I’m almost sorry it’s going to wear off.”

Steve blinked at him. He couldn’t follow the train of thought and switched to a new subject.
“Where are my babies?”

“You’re really not following any of this, are you?” Tony’s voice made Steve feel safe. “They’re in
the living room. We’re trying to move you. But you’re crushing Bucky.”
“Not crushing him,” he said through a yawn. “I’m delicate.”

“Oh my god…” Tony pushed his way to his feet. “Come on, Steve. Let’s get you on your feet-”

He pulled and Bucky pushed and together, they managed to get him upright. “Ice cream?” he asked
next, blinking at Tony hopefully.

“I’ve got it. Come on. Let’s try for a loose follow-”

“There’s so many doors in this place, Tony,” he complained, following him through the butler’s
pantry and into the dining room, down the hall, and-

“Steve!”

“Oh, babies,” he said, falling to his knees. He could hear Tony and Bucky scrambling, but he
wasn’t hurt- “My little guys. I missed you.”

“I’m not a guy, I’m a girl.”

“Mm, my little girl. Give me a hug. Ohh.” He swept Morgan off her feet, leaning back and
nuzzling her. “I’m not myself,” he said, trying to explain. “Everything’s… very slow. In my head
right now…”

“Sam says you took medicine that makes you silly,” Peter said.

“It made it very hard to say words,” he said slowly, trying to enunciate. “Give me a kiss. You know
what one of my favorite things is about you kids? You look just like Daddy.” He stroked their
faces. “Tony, they didn’t get anything from me…”

“Maybe next time around,” Tony offered, scratching his skull. “Kids, the important thing here is to
not ask Steve any questions you wouldn’t want answered normally.”

“Why?” Steve asked, beating them to it. He leaned back, looking up at Tony.

Tony was smiling gently down at him. “You don’t have all your faculties right now, Captain.”

“What would we ask that we didn’t want answered?” Peter asked Steve. He shrugged. He didn’t
know. “Want to eat ice cream with me?” he asked his babies. They nodded. “Good. Help me to the
chair.”

Tony was talking to the kids. Steve couldn’t quite make it out. Bucky pulled him to his feet,
steering him over to the armchair; he was pretty sure that Peter was holding his hand as well. “Let
me cover you up, punk,” Bucky said and oh- he was sitting.

He stretched out, letting the other soldier do most of the work. “Does he do this for you?” he asked
Sam.

“Sometimes. If he’s feeling nice.”

“You should take better care of Sam,” he told Bucky. Bucky was lifting the kids into his lap. He
scoffed, shaking his head. Steve flopped his head to look at Morgan. “Will you help me with the
ice cream?”

“I can hold the spoon for you.”

Tony sounded like he didn’t love that idea. “Just be gentle- right, Mo?”
 She kissed Steve on his nose; he grinned goofily at her. “I can be gentle,” she told him. He nodded
very seriously. Puckering his lips, he got another peck on the lips from her. He flopped his head to
Peter. Pete hugged his neck. “Open up,” Morgan said. She had a spoonful of ice cream.

“Tony, can I keep them? Forever?”

“I’m not taking them away.” Tony eased down next to Sam. “Those are your babies.”

“Yay,” he whispered.

Chapter End Notes

Taking a week or so off!

 Chapter 82
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

“So you’re feeling better, Captain.”

“Except for the occasional dry socket,” he grumbled, massaging his jaw grumpily.

“But you got to eat ice cream all week and have people wait on you hand and foot-”

He hummed. “Oh yeah, Jarvis worked hard all week.”

Tony gasped. “Me! I did the laundry-” He’d done okay. All of Steve’s boxers were a little pink
now. “I brought the babies to school-” Happy had driven all three of them. “I got them to all of
their extracurriculars. Most of them anyways. Do we think they’re doing too much?”

“I think it’s just a lot of stuff for one person to do,” he said, laughing. “Tony, you were wonderful
this week. Really. You really didn’t have to do everything. It’s just my teeth.”

“You were uncomfortable. Bodies don’t heal as quickly when you exit your twenties.” Tony rolled
his shoulders. “You do a lot of work, Captain. You deserve a raise.”

“You pay for literally everything I need,” Steve mumbled. “I’d settle for a kiss.”

“Kissing is never settling, Cap.”

Steve shifted. He decided to change the direction of the conversation. “Sit still. You’re supposed to
be helping me,” he teased.

“Mm. For the record, of all the things I do well, sitting still is not really one of them-”

Steve tutted. “I thought you were rather excited to be modeling for me?”

Tony went for an expressive hand gesture but Steve raised his eyebrows and Tony stilled, making a
face at him. “You’re sketching my hands,” he complained. “I have this drop dead gorgeous body
and you’re drawing my hands? It’s like using a Porsche to deliver pizza.”

Steve wished he had half of Tony’s confidence. He had to grin at the analogy. “For what it’s worth,
I love your hands,” he said diplomatically. “They do so much.”

And even if he was half teasing Tony, he did. Tony’s hands were strong and calloused and covered
in tiny nicks and engineering accidents. They had the power to caress him, heighten him sexually,
and hold him safe. He loved them best when Tony tangled his fingers with his own hand. So why
wouldn’t he want to draw them?

“Does it bother you that I still wear my wedding ring?” Tony asked.

Steve looked up. He’d gotten used to seeing the ring on the mechanic’s finger; that ring had given
him the impression, six months ago, that his employer was off the market. Perhaps that’s why
Tony did it. For all his flirting, Tony had never given him the impression that he was looking to
rejoin the dating scene.

“Why do you wear it?” he asked neutrally. A shadow passed Tony’s face and Steve said, rather
gently, “it doesn’t bother me, Tony. Not at all.”

“Ah. Well…” Tony’s fingers moved restlessly but Steve didn’t admonish him this time. He began a
different sketch of Tony’s eyes instead. “I should probably take it off,” he said, shrugging.
“Especially since we’re…”

“Dating,” Steve supplied.

“In love,” Tony corrected. He brightened when he saw that Steve had moved on from his hands.
He shook them out like they’d been stuck in some difficult position for hours instead of resting on
the table for the past fifteen minutes. He examined the kitchen. “I loved my wife. And I love you.
But I can’t have both.”

Steve wouldn’t be the one to point out that Tony’s wife had died nearly two years ago. He was
okay sitting quietly in the kitchen, sketching Tony’s eyes, his impetuous nose, the way his
eyebrows quirked-

Tony’s hand crawled over the surface and took Steve’s left hand. “I could never replace her,” Steve
said. “I wouldn’t try. Won’t.”

“That’s what I love about you. One of the many things.”

Steve scratched his ear with the end of his pencil thoughtfully. “We’re not kids anymore, either of
us. When you’re in your twenties, everything feels so personal. People are trying to hurt you
specifically. But I’m 36, Tony. I’ve been well loved and lost loves. You can wear the ring for as
long as you like. Forever, if you want.”

Tony tugged the hand he’d been holding. He kissed Steve’s knuckles. “I love you, Captain.”

Steve’s lips curled. “Thanks, Tony.”

Tony let go of him then. Steve felt almost disappointed at the loss of contact, but Tony was
reaching for his pencil and that was interesting. He let the mechanic take it from him, even pushed
the sketchbook across the table to him. Tony turned the page, bit the end of the pencil thoughtfully,
and observed him in mock seriousness.

Steve was already laughing- Tony always had this effect on him. “Are you going to draw me?” he
asked.

“Going to do my best.”

“I love it,” he said fondly. He tried not to move. Tony had tilted the sketchbook away from him; he
had no clue what Tony was drawing of him.

“Do you still have your dog tags?” Tony asked.

He blinked. “Yeah, in my drawer upstairs.”

“You don’t wear them,” the other man observed.

He shook his head softly. “No,” he agreed. He continued to smile at the other man. Being Tony’s
model meant that he could spend his time just looking at the more handsome man and he was
perfectly content with that.

“Why not?” Tony added some details to his drawing. “A lot of former soldiers I know continue to
wear them out of habit. Sam still has his on.”

“Bucky keeps his on his key ring,” Steve offered. “I used to wear them when I was stateside,
between deployments. At first they were a reminder of what happened. A way of marking me as
different. Now I mostly think of them as a symbol of being a soldier. I stopped being a soldier, so
there seemed no point in wearing them. But they don’t bother me anymore.”

Tony hummed. Steve was thoughtful. “You want me to show you them some time?”

“Yes.”

Steve was saved by the sound of little footsteps on the stairs. “Mo,” he called softly, seeing her
bedhead. “Come here, baby.”

“It’s morning,” she mumbled, reaching up for him. He picked her up, settling her in his lap. “It is,”
he agreed. “Still pretty early.”

“Why are you awake? Isn’t it vacation?” she leaned on him, hugging his torso.

“Daddy still has one more day of work,” Steve explained. He began to finger comb her hair,
working on the tangles. “We were having coffee together.”

“I was having coffee,” Tony corrected.

Steve whispered to her, “I’ve never been a big coffee drinker. I’m having Chai.” She rested her
head against his heart, blinking up at him sleepily. “You’re still tired,” he pointed out.

“No,” she disagreed, but he could already see that he’d be carrying her back up to bed for another
hour after this. He shrugged, rubbing circles into her back.

“It’s very early in the morning,” Tony offered, from his side of the table. “If I were you, I’d get
some more sleep. Snuggle with Steve. That’s what I’d like to do this morning.”

She considered this. Steve watched her, wondering what she thought of them, of his relationship
with her father, her expectations of him. He took another sip of his Chai. “Can we snuggle?” she
asked. “Yes,” he agreed. “I want to spend some more time with my little girl.”

He glanced up at Tony. The mechanic had closed the sketchbook and was just watching them. His
expression was more than fond. Turning the sketchbook around, he pushed it over to Steve. “I
should get over to the office,” he said regretfully. “I want to get some things done before I have
lunch with Rhodey. He’s going to be leaving soon.”

Steve considered this. “You should bring him back here later. I’d like to clear the air.”

Tony stood, considering this. “I can do that,” he agreed, a smile developing. “I will.” He came
around the table. “Okay. My loves. Get some more sleep.” Bending, he kissed Steve on the cheek.
He palmed his face. “Mo- I love you, sweetie.” He pecked her on the lips.

Setting his coffee mug in the sink, he was gone.

Steve got up. He grabbed the sketchbook more out of habit than anything else. “Let’s lay down,”
he suggested. She nodded. Tucked under his head, she was already falling back asleep.

He brought her up to Tony’s room, shifting his pillow over so that they could share it. She tumbled
down, all loose limbs and flyaway hair. “Coming in?” she asked, blinking at him.
 “Definitely,” he agreed. “Just a moment.”

He opened the sketchbook to where Tony had been drawing. Tony hadn’t drawn him at all- that
dirty bastard. He’d sketched two rings instead, using his engineer’s touch. They were just slightly
different. And at the bottom, he’d scrawled- ‘You’re far too beautiful, my darling Captain, for me
too malign with my drawing attempts. Your eyes remind me of sapphires- and I think I’d enjoy the
daily reminder. I love you. -Tony’

He put the sketch down on his bedside table, slipping under the covers. “You’re smiling,” Morgan
said.

“I am,” he agreed. “Let’s get another hour-”

Chapter End Notes

This fic will likely break 100 chapters. Who would have thought?
 Chapter 83

Jarvis let him know he was here.

Steve had been laying on his stomach, drawing with the kids. He looked up at the butler, startled
out of the story he’d been making up, something about the kids having super powers- “Sam?” he
asked. “Why’s he here?”

“He didn’t say,” Jarvis told him. “I left Sergeant Wilson in the kitchen.”

“Maybe I forgot something,” he mused, pushing to his feet. “Keep drawing, kids. I’ll be back in a
couple of minutes.”

“Aw, but we want to see Sam,” Morgan said, scrambling to her feet.

He caressed her face. “I’ll bring him up to say hi,” he promised. “Sam won’t leave without seeing
you guys. Promise.”

“Are you worried about tonight’s dinner?” Jarvis asked as they headed down the hall.

“A little,” he admitted.

“I’ve known Colonel Rhodes for almost as long as Tony has. He’s very protective.”

“That was the impression I got-”

Jarvis paused at the top of the stairs. “Tony was exceptionally young when he went to college. I
believe Rhodes views Tony as something of a younger sibling. Not unlike how you feel about
Natasha, I would imagine.”

He touched the top of Jarvis’s arm. “I’m dating Tony,” he admitted.

“I know. I know everything.”

“Do you think…?”

“Tony hasn’t been this happy in years, Captain Rogers.”

A smile flickered to life on his face. “Yeah?” The butler nodded. Steve was full on grinning when
he came down to the kitchen. “What are you doing here?” he asked, drawing Sam into a full body
hug. “Did I forget something?”

“I came to support you. Tony will bring his black friend and I’m here as yours-”

“Sam, we can’t say things like that,” he said, laughing.

“You can’t. I definitely can-”

“Where’s Buck? Why didn’t he talk you out of this?”

Sam shrugged. “I convinced him it was a good idea. Not good enough that he’d come apparently,
but enough that he let me out of the house. He’s out to dinner with his sisters.”

“You’re not going to do anything to embarrass me tonight, are you?” Steve asked shrewdly.
“Man, I came here as support. Let me support you. Show me the kids-”

The kids were overjoyed to see Sam. Steve didn’t have it in him to be jealous, watching them
practically climbing the former aviator. Sam posed for their next drawings, striking silly poses-
Steve laughed himself silly at a semi-graceful ballerina pose that Sam struggled to hold while they
drew him- and had convinced Steve to model next by the time dinner rolled around.

“No more,” Steve protested, crawling on the ground and laying facedown. “If you want to draw
me, draw me like this.”

“Make sure to capture his bountiful-”

“Sam!”

The kids were laughing and maybe that’s why Steve didn’t hear the mechanic arrive. “I mean it is
bountiful,” a very familiar voice said.

“Daddy!”

Steve rolled over, turning pink. “Tony- Mr. Stark- Tony,” he fumbled, caught between the desire to
make a good impression and the absurdity of calling his boyfriend by such a formal title.

Tony took no notice of his misstep. He indicated the man behind him, his friend. “Sam- to what do
we owe this unexpected pleasure?”

“He- I invited him over to-”

“I invited myself over. Steve and I can share rations if you’re running short on dough,” Sam joked.
Steve spluttered; Tony, however, cackled. “You’re always welcome over here, but where’s your
handsome counterpart?”

“His sister’s,” both Steve and Sam said at the same time.

“Rhodey, this is Sam Wilson, one of Steve’s friends. Mine too, really. Sam was in the Air Force.”

“A brainiac then,” Rhodey said, reaching out a hand to shake. Steve was slightly jealous, getting to
his feet. Of course, Tony’s friend would take to anyone else besides him. He tried to cut himself
off before he got too negative.

“Colonel Rhodes,” he said softly.

“Captain Rogers.”

“Wow, they really do that, huh?” Sam asked Tony.

“They really do. Kids, go wash your hands. Rhodey, this is Steve. Steve, this is Rhodey. No more
military titles tonight, huh?” Tony paused. “That doesn’t apply to Jarvis though. We won’t be able
to break that habit after all this time.”

“Rhodey,” Steve tried. He held out his hand. The other man took it, giving him a firm shake.
“Steve,” he acknowledged.

The look on Tony’s face was enough to make Steve keep trying. He tried to keep the positivity
going. “You guys can head for the dining room. I’ll bring the kids down in a second. Hang on-”

He ducked into the bathroom in Pete’s room where the kids were equally washing their hands and
making a mess. “Oh, babies,” he said, turning off the water and drying their hands. “Let me just
dry the counter off and we’ll go downstairs.”

“Are you nervous?” Pete asked, hanging on to Steve’s leg and looking up his body at him.

“Do I seem nervous?” he asked, wiping down the counter.

“A little. Because of Uncle Rhodey?”

He squatted down, gathering them to him. “Sometimes meeting new people can be a bit scary for
me,” he said, trying to simplify this situation down to something they could understand.

“But you’ve already met Rhodey,” Morgan pointed out.

“Sometimes it takes a couple of tries. And I want Rhodey to like me because he’s your daddy’s
best friend. Like how you guys probably want me and Daddy to like your friends, right? It’s
important.”

“Uncle Rhodey likes you,” Morgan said.

“Think so?” he asked lightly. She nodded confidently.

“When we went to the castles with Uncle Rhodey, we talked about you,” Pete said, surprising
Steve. “We told him that you were nice and you teach us how to make pancakes and kiss us
goodnight-”

“And you dance,” Morgan said, as if this was the most important detail and Pete had been crazy to
forget it. “You’re getting better at braiding my hair-”

“And Daddy laughs a lot.”

“And Daddy said we were right,” Morgan said, as if this was the final word on the subject. She
took the towel from Steve, dumping it in Pete’s laundry basket. “Steve, I’m hungry-”

“Here, let me carry you. It’ll be quicker,” he said, holding out both arms. He scooped them up,
giving them kisses. “I love you kids so much.”

“Uncle Rhodey wanted to say sorry to you,” Pete added as they left his bedroom. “Why?”

Steve bit his lip. “Last time I saw your uncle we had a disagreement.”

Morgan tilted her head. “You’re supposed to talk about things afterwards so it gets better,” she
admonished.

Steve huffed a laugh, concealing it with difficulty. Sometimes they did maybe too much emotional
scaffolding with the kids. It was forcing him and Tony to be better people than they were naturally.
“You’re right,” he agreed. “That’s why I want to talk to him tonight. But let’s not talk about this
when we go down there, okay? I’ll talk to him at some point tonight.”

“Okay,” they agreed.

“Can I show Uncle Rhodey the paintings we do together?” Pete asked, stroking Steve’s face.

“Yes, honey.”

“I want to show him how to dance-”

“After dinner,” Steve promised, ducking through the kitchen. The idea of the serious colonel
dancing next to Morgan made it hard not to laugh. “First you have to eat your vegetables.”

They passed Jarvis in the butler’s pantry. He held the door for them- and Steve, thanking him, set
the kids down. “Here we are,” he said nervously. Morgan took his hand, pulling him towards their
normal seats. Sam had sat in Pete’s seat, but Pete didn’t seem to mind. He sat on Steve’s left
instead.

Tony had been laughing at some conversation the three of them had been having, but he grinned at
Steve now. “Hi, honey,” he said warmly.

“Tony,” Steve agreed hesitantly.

 Chapter 84

Dinner went okay.

Sam led them through several funny stories of his time in the Air Force, one or two stories of which
even Steve had never heard before. The kids laughed at everything he said. Sam was almost too
funny- Steve found himself laughing and joking with him, and he hadn’t really intended on that,
not tonight when he was so anxious-

It was a relief to look across the table and find Sam’s warm eyes watching him. And Sam did seem
to be keeping an eye on him. Despite his seeming nonchalance, Sam had come over to take care of
Steve apparently, and Steve was very grateful.

The kids told Rhodey all about his mom and the sleepover, the nights they stayed over at her
house, and how she’d made pretzels with them. “She likes me best though,” Tony was swift to say.

“She likes you? You?” Rhodey asked and Steve might have jumped to a conclusion before, been
defensive, but he noticed the mirth in Tony’s eyes at this statement. “I was shocked too,” the
mechanic said. “The Rogers are very loving.”

And Steve ducked his head, feeling the back of his neck heat.

“So the two of you are dating now?” Rhodey asked quietly.

“That’s right,” Tony agreed cheerfully. “I finally convinced the good captain.” He was watching
Steve with an equal mixture of love and concern. Steve tried to smile, not sure that he liked being
the center of attention.

“What’s dating?” Morgan asked, reaching for another roll. Steve estimated this was her third and
subtly moved the bowl away from her. She might be content to live on bread, but he wanted her to
eat some vegetables.

He opened his mouth dumbly and closed it. “When two grown ups are in love, they date,” Rhodey
answered her, surprising Steve because he was sure it would be Tony or Sam to answer this
question.

“Like going to the movies together and telling each other secrets,” Tony suggested. “But the other
person is really special.”

“Haven’t you already been doing that?”

“You can go out on dates and not be dating,” he said. She squinted at him. “Initially dates are to
meet someone and get to know them. But Steve and I already knew each other. We’ve been living
together. I knew exactly who he was.”

“Then why do you need to date?” she asked, sounding genuinely confused.

“Grownups enjoy dating, believe it or not. Right, Steve? You’ve been having fun?”

“I have,” he agreed softly.

“You’d have more fun if I was there,” she declared.

Steve completely grinned at that now. Her confidence was absolute. “You are a lot of fun.”
“I don’t understand grownups,” Pete announced. “I’m still confused about everything.”

“Sometimes dating’s for fun and sometimes it’s to see if people are ready to marry each other,”
Tony clarified.

“Are you dating Steve for fun or the other thing,” she asked with her Barbara Walters pinpoint
efficiency.

“Both,” Tony said happily. He winked at Steve.

Steve was sure he was scarlet now. “For love,” he whispered. Tony’s expression was fond. He
nodded. “Alright, for love,” he agreed.

“Are you going to marry Daddy?” Pete asked, wiping up gravy with his biscuit. Everyone paused at
that.

Steve looked around the table. Sam was smirking at him, while Rhodey looked genuinely curious
about his answer. Nobody helped him. “We haven’t talked about that enough yet. Sometimes it’s
nice to take things slow.”

“Makes relationships stronger in the long run,” Sam said, finally seeming to take pity on the
captain. “Steve’s cautious,” he told the five year old. “It made him a good soldier. And he’s
careful. Makes him a good friend.”

“I hope you marry Daddy,” Pete whispered, sliding out of his chair and up into Steve’s lap. Steve
didn’t know what to say. He kissed Pete’s forehead, leaning his face against the little boy’s.
“Yeah?” he asked. Pete nodded. “Daddy might want to stay friends.”

Tony shrugged with one shoulder. He seemed to be concealing a smile. “No pressure, Captain.”

“Sorry,” he said. “Why are we just talking about us?”

“Did I hear you say that you were going to dance for us after dinner?” Sam asked Morgan. She
brightened, leaning forward and nodding at him. “I’m going to dance with you,” he decided. She
grinned.

“So how did you two meet if you weren’t even in the same divisions?” Rhodey asked, looking
between Sam and Steve.

Steve froze. Even if Rhodey already knew at this point, he forgot he’d have to talk about it. “The
VA,” Sam said, at the same time that Steve said, “a support group.” They looked at each other. “I
was- I needed help after,” he began awkwardly. “Sam helped me. He runs the group.
Afterwards…”

There was a nasty pause when the four adults didn’t seem to know where to go next
conversationally. “Everyone needs help sometimes,” Pete said, patting Steve’s hand.

“That’s right, Pete,” Tony said. “Thanks for reminding us.”

“Are we all done eating? Maybe we should head for the living room,” Sam suggested.

Steve slipped Pete down to the floor, setting him on his feet. “Run ahead,” he said. “I’m going to
clear the table.”

“I’ll help,” Sam said, getting up on the other side of the table.
Tony looked like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t. Coming around the table, he planted a
kiss on Steve’s cheek, looking him in the eyes. Steve didn’t always know what Tony was looking
for, but he smiled rather hopefully at him and hoped this was good enough. It must have been
enough. Tony said, “Come on, Mo.” And they were out.

“You okay?” Sam asked, gathering and stacking plates.

“I get anxious,” Steve said. “Stupid, I know.”

“Steve, you are the last man I’d describe as stupid. Come here- give me a hug.” Sam put his stack
of plates down on the table. He squeezed Steve’s shoulders. “He doesn’t remind you of that guy.
He reminds you of the judge in your court case, doesn’t he?”

“Stern and a little foreboding, yeah,” Steve said, trying to laugh. “I know I’m not in danger. It’s
just my brain-” He gestured vaguely.

“Tells you otherwise. You’re doing great, Steve.” Sam let him go. “You need a way out in there,
ask me when Bucky was expecting me home, huh? I’ll make you bring me to the car.”

“You’re too much,” Steve said fondly. “You’re a great friend.”

“I know.” Sam grinned. “Come on, I’ve got a dance contest.”

“I’ll be right there,” he promised.

He brought the dishes to the kitchen, rinsing them in the sink and loading the dishwasher. The
fabric napkins went into the laundry basket in the closet. Jarvis would only let him do so much. He
made his way through the house to where the others were. From his place in the doorway, he could
see them but they couldn’t see him. Morgan and Pete were trying to keep up with Sam.

Tony was sitting beside Rhodes. He stepped into the room, putting a hand on Tony’s shoulder. The
mechanic startled, then, seeing who it was, gripped his hand with a smile. Steve addressed Rhodes
however. “Would you like to talk?”

“We should. Where?”

“Maybe… the library,” he said. He could do this.

“Okay.” Rhodes looked at Tony. Tony looked up at Steve. “Want company?” he asked.

“Nah. We’ll be fine. Have fun with the kids-”

The other Marine followed him down the hall, letting him lead the way. He pushed his way into
the room, and held the door for Rhodes. “So…” the other man began, but Steve cut him off,
feeling nervous.

“I know you don’t like me and me and Tony, we’ve only known each other for seven months and
that’s not long,” he said, saying these words quickly because they were true and he was conscious
of what he was saying. “I never pictured myself being the kind of person to get caught up in some
whirlwind romance. I’ve always been so cautious. But I do really love him and I’m not trying to
use him.”

The other man considered this. He seemed to situate himself conversationally. “Tony, despite what
the papers say, is fairly cautious at this point in his life. We’ve been talking a lot this past month.
More than we have in the past year. He reminded me that he’s not that young kid I knew in college
anymore.”

“He says being a parent changed him.”

“He was very excited when Peter was born and also scared out of his mind.”

Steve let his guard down, just a little. “I saw the pictures. The first time he held Peter. His face-”
He gestured towards his own, unable to put it in words. Tony had confided in him that he’d cried
both times they’d been born; looking at the photo albums with the Starks, Steve had felt
aftershocks of the emotion.

“I was wrong about you. I’m sorry.”

He felt his heart stutter. “I’m sorry too,” he said. “You reminded me of things that have happened
to me. You know-” He waved his hand dismissively. “Sometimes military men remind me of it.”
He looked over at the other man. “We both got defensive fast,” he said mildly.

Rhodey nodded at that. Just slightly. “Tony never told me what happened to you, Captain Rogers.
Steve.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. He’d told Tony to tell him. “No?” he asked, his voice forcefully even.
“I thought after our last interaction-”

“Tony told me it was none of my business.” The other man’s dark eyes were on him. “He’s very
protective of you.” He held out a hand because Steve’s first impulse was to defend himself. “That’s
not an accusation.”

Steve dared to look him in the eye. His superior officers would have disciplined him for this.
They’d agreed they were going to try to be better communicators. For Tony’s sake. “I was a good
soldier,” he said. “I did my job.”

Rhodes studied him. “You have several commendations,” he said abruptly. “In your record.
Enlisted directly out of high school. Rose quickly through the ranks. Well respected by your fellow
officers and men. Yeah,” he said drily. “I pulled your jacket.”

“So you know-”

“No.” The colonel pulled a file out of his bag, handing it over to Steve. “I’d read enough. I’ve
heard enough from Tony. If he trusts you, I suspect I have to trust you as well.”

Steve ran his tongue over the back of his teeth, staring at the darker skinned man. Was this a trick?
A ceasefire? “You don’t have to do anything,” he said at last, “but it makes Tony unhappy that we
don’t get along.”

“His best friend and the first person he’s loved since his wife died,” Rhodey surmised. “I’ve
missed Tony.”

“Deployments are difficult,” Steve acknowledged. He rubbed one foot against the side of the other.

“Tony’s different from anyone I’ve ever met. He challenges me. You do too,” he added, and Steve
wasn’t sure this was a compliment.

“How did you meet?” Steve asked, because it seemed important to keep this conversation going
since it was the first non confrontational conversation they’d ever had. “Stark Industries weapon
manufacturing?”
“SI fostered a relationship with the military based on our relationship with each other. We met in
college.” Right. Jarvis had said that. “Tony started early- you must know that. He was fifteen when
we were freshmen. I wasn’t thrilled that I had to room with some underage twink but he wormed
his way in-”

“Tony, a twink?” Steve interrupted. Tony might be shorter than he was, but he was no slouch.
They seemed to use the mansion’s gym at different times throughout the day but Tony had
suggested more than once that they spar together and had even managed to not make it sound
sexual on several occasions.

James Rhodes raised an eyebrow. “Baby boy finally grew up into a man, but that’s not how he
started-” Sighing, he opened his phone, swiping through several photos until he found a picture
which he held up to Steve.

“Oh my god,” Steve said, forgetting in that moment that he wasn’t sure he liked Tony’s best friend.
He took the phone without asking, staring down at the picture. “That’s Tony…” he said softly,
grinning faintly. “Is that what teenage Petey is going to look like?” he mused aloud.

He gazed down at the picture. Teenage Tony looked vulnerable in a way that his version of Tony
somehow did not. It was the fluffiness of his hair, the softness of his features, the lack of facial
hair. He realized suddenly what he’d been doing. He thrust the phone back to Rhodey. “Sorry,” he
said, pushing his hands into his pockets. “I’ve never seen him when he was a teen. Jarvis showed
me pictures of him when he was Pete’s age.”

The man seemed to weigh his words. “He’s really not the kid I knew in college anymore. He’s
steadier. More confident. What happened to his wife… hurt him. I don’t want to see him hurt any
more than he already has been.”

“I don’t want to hurt him,” Steve said softly. He looked down at the picture on Rhodey’s phone.
His eyes lingered on young Tony. Tony was six years older than him. When he’d started college,
Steve had been in elementary school. That was insane. He felt indignant on Tony’s behalf- that was
way too young to start college.

“I don’t think you will.”

Steve held out his hand. “Can we start over?” he asked.

The other man took it and gave it a shake. “I think we should.”

“For Tony’s sake.”

 Chapter 85

There was a knock on his door. Steve had just been about to go to bed.

He got up, opening it to find Tony on his doorstep. “You don’t have to knock,” he said in surprise.
“What are you doing up here?” He stepped aside.

“Of course I have to knock, it’s your room.”

Tony stepped carefully across the threshold, glancing around the room as he always did, but there
was something a little different about him today. Steve trailed his fingers over Tony’s back,
stepping around him until they were looking at each other. “What’s wrong, Tony?”

Tony gave him a small smile. “How’d you know something was wrong? I thought I was putting on
a pretty good show.”

“Depends on how long you’ve been upset. Maybe you have,” Steve suggested lightly.

Tony chewed on his tongue. “Could I stay with you a while?” he asked. “I’m having trouble
sleeping.”

“Do you want to lay down?”

Tony shook his head. “You can though. You must be tired.”

Steve was, but he wasn’t going to fall asleep with Tony like this, a little quiet and a little lost, and
with Steve not knowing what was going through that big beautiful brain of his. “Sleep is for lesser
mortals,” he said instead, and that made Tony smile because it was something Tony had tried to
tell the former Marine at least six or seven times in the past couple of months. “Come on. Sit in my
art room with me?”

Tony took a long, measuring look at him. “Yes,” he agreed at last. “Please.”

And if Tony was saying please, things must be bad.

Steve took his hands, backing up slowly, one step, then another, bringing him into the hall and
keeping his eyes on him. “Can I paint you?” he asked.

“Like one of your French girls?” Tony joked, but it was quieter this time than it had been
originally. Steve shook his head at him. “I mean,” he said patiently, “can I paint on you?” That
seemed to surprise Tony a little out of his funk. He glanced up at Steve, eyes curious and sharp. He
nodded. Steve smiled.

He gave up the attempt to pull Tony down the hall regretfully; there was a very real chance that
he’d walk into that table (they’d moved it from the hall below for the very same reason) or that
he’d do something to embarrass himself. He held onto Tony’s fingers, bringing him into the art
room and flicking the light on.

“I guess I should pull the shades,” he said, looking at his big windows.

“No point. All of the windows on this place act like one way mirrors,” Tony said softly. “We can
see out, but nobody can see in. Keeps us safe from prying eyes.”

“Huh. You still manage to surprise me,” Steve said. He caught Tony’s tank top with his thumbs,
pulling it up and over with one smooth movement.

“Good,” Tony said. “I’m glad.”

“Are you sad?” Steve asked next, adjusting the thermostat to the room before undoing the other
man’s pajama pants. They slipped slowly down his hips.

“A little tonight,” the mechanic admitted. Steve looked up at him and then continued around the
room, finding a pair of chairs for them to sit in, a drop cloth, some paint. Tony coughed a little. “I
don’t get this way a lot. Tomorrow’s the anniversary of the day we found out my wife was sick,”
he said. “I don’t know. For some reason that hits worse than the day she actually…”

“Because it was such a shock,” Steve offered, settling Tony down in the seat opposite from him.
He pulled out a piece of pallet paper and began to mix. “We don’t have to do this,” he said, cause
was it insensitive to do something like this while talking about Tony’s first love?

“I’m significantly intrigued by what you plan to do, Captain,” Tony said.

“Do you feel… like you’re letting her down? By being with me?” Steve asked, looking the
mechanic in the eye.

“It was something I grappled with when we first started being interested in each other,” he
admitted. “But I think… she wouldn’t have wanted me to be alone for the rest of my life. I plan on
living another fifty years or so, give or take,” he said with a wicked smile. “And I know that she
would have liked you. You’re special. Exceptionally kind and funny.”

“What was she like?” he asked, dipping his paintbrush into the blue. He began to sketch a blue
circle onto Tony’s skin. The mechanic shivered the first couple of times he made contact and then
he seemed to acclimate to it; Steve knew from when he was a teen and used to paint on himself
(and others) that the sensation was weird.

“She loved flowers. Planted seeds everywhere- in the cracks of sidewalks and any lonely looking
planter, the dividers on the road, parking lots. Loved old movies- she was a big fan of Hitchcock.
Her nose was always cold when she slept. She used to press it up against my back-” He stopped
himself abruptly.

“And she loved the babies, I’m sure,” Steve said.

“She’d been waiting her whole life for them, it seemed. She was always holding one of them-”

“She sounds amazing, Tony.”

“She was,” he agreed. “I never got used to her being gone.”

They lapsed into silence. Steve continued his work, knowing that Tony would keep talking when
he wanted to. On Tony’s part, he seemed content to watch Steve work. By moving his knee, he was
able to press his leg against the captain’s, keeping them both grounded.

“She’d been married before,” Tony said, which surprised Steve.

“Was she?”

“Six years. To this guy she really loved. He broke her heart.” Steve looked up. Tony shrugged.
“She really loved him. They got married young. And he spent the whole time pretending to be
exactly the person she wanted him to be- she thought he was- and then…”
“He changed?” Steve suggested, remembering his own ex-partner.

“He wanted to date someone else. Actually… He started dating someone else while they were still
married. But he didn’t tell her. He wasn’t going to end their marriage if things didn’t work out with
the other person.”

“Jesus.”

“Yeah. Who does that? And then one day- he texted her it was over. Said he’d never really loved
her. Said he was tired of pretending to be someone he wasn’t. But she’d never known he was
pretending.”

“Fuck.”

Tony’s eyes were sad. “She only got 38 years. And he took six of them. That’s not enough.”

“I’m sorry, Tony,” Steve said, and he meant it. “But I know that the years with you must have
helped her. Your love has helped me. You’re so good at it.”

“Think so?” Tony asked dazedly. “I never thought I’d be good at it. My parents…”

“I think you were always good at it,” Steve said loyally. He painted a sunflower on Tony’s
shoulder with broad confident strokes. “You were just waiting for life to give you a chance.”

Tony looked so hopeful in that moment that Steve couldn’t help but kiss him. “Careful,” Tony
said. “I’m covered in paint.”

“It’s acrylic,” Steve said. “Dries quick. See?” He touched his fingers to the place where he’d
started.

Tony looked down at himself. Steve had moved quickly while they’d talked- he was more than
halfway done. “Is that an arc reactor?” he asked, sounding delighted. “Right over my heart?”

“I tend to think of the arc reactor as an extension of your heart,” Steve confessed.

Tony got up, using the window as a mirror of sorts. “This is very art deco,” he said, looking at his
chest. “I like it,” he said.

Steve had built around the arc reactor, drawing flowers and detailing, little stitches of golden paint.
Blue hearts covering the scars on Tony’s side. Over his naval, he’d scrawled in messy script the
words ‘beautiful, sweet Tony.’ He’d traced the red with gold.

“I can stop here if you’re tired of being my human canvas,” Steve offered.

“Bite your tongue, we haven’t even done my back,” Tony said, grinning at him. His smile faded
just a little. “Talking helps, Steve.”

“I know. I’ve had to learn that myself.”

“Sometimes I feel disloyal,” Tony admitted now, turning so that Steve could paint his back. “I
wanted her and I desperately want you and I wouldn’t have been able to have you if she hadn’t
died. I feel like I killed her.”

Steve’s heart ached. “If things had turned out differently… you’d never have met me. You
wouldn’t know that anything was missing. And I'd be out there, doing my thing. Life’s really very
strange, Tony. We don’t have a lot of control over it.”
Tony gazed at him using his reflection in the window. “Would you marry me?” he asked.

Steve dropped his paintbrush because what-? Tony saw it happen. He half smirked. “If I asked you
to marry me, would you say yes?” he clarified.

Steve gripped one of his shoulders, holding on for dear life. “You’re an ass.” Tony hummed, his
head tilted. Waiting. Steve swallowed hard. “I’d say yes in an instant.”

Tony’s smile was beatific. “Good to know,” he said.

“You’re going to kill me one of these days.”

“False.”

“Maybe I’ll propose first,” Steve suggested. “We’re both men. There’s no rules. Nobody knows
which one of us takes the lead.”

“Like so many other things, we switch,” Tony said thoughtlessly. “We’re very fair, us gays.”

Steve kissed the nape of his neck. “You wouldn’t regret marrying someone like me?” he asked.

“I’d regret not marrying you.”

Steve felt his heart beat. He heard the wind outside the window. When he exhaled, he saw the
hairs on the back of Tony’s neck stand up and then fall slowly back down. “Let me take a picture?”
he asked. “You know- of this moment where you’re not proposing to me, apparently.”

Tony was flexing his muscles, looking at the way the flowers swayed and moved with the pull of
each tonal group. He looked up, half grinning- and that’s how Steve captured him: pajama pants
riding low on his hips, flowers and hearts creeping up his ribs and the fake arc reactor, metallic
paint reflecting the ceiling light, and Tony’s smile.

And Steve knew that he’d wait for Tony as long as the man needed.

“Come to bed with me,” Tony begged. “I sleep better when you’re there. Please?”

Steve teased him; he considered it carefully. Washing the paint from his brushes, he nodded. “I’ll
come. Are you dry?” He tapped the paint. “Good enough. Come on. Leave the shirt-”

“You’re going to stretch out all of my shirts,” Tony said, but without any heat. “I guess I’ll have to
buy more…” Steve steered him towards the stairs. “That’s right,” he agreed. “Watch your step.”
 Chapter 86

Steve was, unsurprisingly, the first to wake the next morning. And that was okay. There was Tony,
curled up by his side. By moving his arm, Steve was able to stroke his back, soft touches on bare
skin. He could feel the paint texturize his skin. They probably should have washed it off last night.

Tony stirred. “What time is it?” he asked sleepily, his words slurring.

“Just six. Go back to sleep. We have another hour yet if we try hard enough.”

Tony hummed. His fingers were working their way across Steve’s skin, tracing his abdominal
muscles and brushing through his pubic hair. Steve let him; Tony’s movements were faint and
meandering, without a purpose to keep them moving, they were slowing down. “You like touching
me,” he said drowsily.

“I do. Can I kiss you?” Tony asked softly, burying his face in Steve’s side.

“I’d like that,” he whispered. “Look up-”

They met in the middle, Tony stretching up and Steve dipping down. Steve rolled so that they were
on their sides, facing each other. He brushed his thumbs over Tony’s chest, eliciting a shiver.

“I’m still a little out of it this morning,” Tony whispered. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Steve said back, just as quietly. “Sometimes it happens.”

“Thanks for loving me,” the mechanic said softly. “I was beginning to worry that I was unlovable
and then I met you. And you do love me, don’t you?”

“Tony, I adore you,” he said. “Even when you tease me about proposing. For what it’s worth, I was
feeling the same way as you. We needed each other.”

“Brains are hard,” Tony said, shifting closer to him. He slotted his leg in between Steve’s legs.

“Brains are hard,” Steve agreed. “Close those eyes. You’ll feel better after you get some more
sleep.”

“You sleep too.”

“I will.”

And he was falling asleep to the sounds of Tony’s soft breaths. He closed his own eyes, burying
his nose in Tony’s soft fluffy hair. Sighing, he drifted off.

It was Tony who woke up first the next time. “Captain, my captain,” Steve heard. He groaned. If
anything he felt more tired than before. There was a huff, a brush of laughter. “Wake up, my
beautiful Steve.”

“Don’t want to,” he groaned. “Warm…”

But Tony was touching him, coaxing him awake in pleasurable ways and Steve opened his eyes
only semi-reluctantly, gazing into Tony’s brown eyes, warm and muddy on this near spring
morning. “But I’m happy here,” he complained.
Tony barked a laugh at this. “I’m happy here too,” he agreed. “Being in your arms has restorative
properties.”

“Fine. We’ll bottle those properties and become rich.”

“I’m already rich and I’m keeping your properties for myself,” Tony replied easily.

“Wow. Selfish.”

“Come shower with me? We’ll have to get the kids up soon. Time’s a-wastin,” Tony said, his voice
teasing. “Come on, wash my back for me. I’ll wash yours-”

Steve threw the blanket back with a groan. “You don’t play fair,” he groused. Tony was pulling the
strings of his sweats and they were slipping down his hips. The paint had stayed on remarkably
well. Reaching forward, Steve gave the sweats a yank.

“Rude,” Tony chided, but he pivoted, grinning at Steve, and he stepped out of the sweats with a
move that shouldn’t have been nearly so graceful.

“I’m helping-”

“Such a big help. What about you?”

“Don’t rush me, it’s cold-” He pulled his shirt up and over his head. “Speaking of which, bear that
in mind when I take these pants off- I’m not at my best here-”

“I’ve seen the goods at room temperature, you’re fine-”

Steve ducked under the spray of the shower, following Tony. They’d never done this before and
despite his professed bravado, he felt a twinge of nerves. “Still a little sad?” he asked, pushing hair
out of his face.

“Just the last vestiges of it. Sometimes I feel guilty because I don’t feel sad,” Tony said. “Or like,
sad because I’m happy? If that makes sense.”

“It does. But you’re allowed to feel happy. And sad. Everything you feel is valid.”

Tony half smiled at him and that almost made it worth it, getting out of bed. He hugged Tony,
giving him a tight squeeze. “We’ve got to get all this paint off of you,” he mumbled, kissing the
other man’s ear lazily. “Hang on.”

Reaching behind them, he grabbed the loofah brush and Tony’s body wash. “Too bad we couldn’t
keep it,” Tony said idly. “I like it.”

“It’ll ruin your clothes. Acrylic comes off easy. Don’t worry.”

“Would you design a tattoo for me?”

He paused from where he’d been working soap into Tony’s skin. “You want a tattoo?” Tony
shrugged. He pointed to his bicep where he had the kids’ names. Right. He already had at least
one. “I’ll think about it.”

“I never would have known you had so many if we hadn’t changed our relationship.”

“I was a Marine. Comes with the territory.”

“You keep them mostly covered up.”

He turned Tony, beginning to scrub his back. He dipped his head under the shower spray, giving
his head a little shake. “I guess I do.” Yawning, he put his head down on Tony’s shoulder. “There-
no evidence of last night.”

“Too bad,” Tony said, almost mournfully. He looked over his skin. “Thanks, honey.”

“Anytime,” Steve said through another yawn. He began to wash his own hair. “We should do this
more often.”

“Oh, I agree-”

“Tony, do you ever want more from me?”

The mechanic peered up at him. “Like what?” he asked carefully. “I’m pretty lucky to have you as
much as I do now.”

Steve leaned under the spray again, letting it wash the suds out of his hair. “I was thinking maybe
we could do more than we have,” he said at last, pushing his hair back. “Like-”

“Daddy?”

“Shit-” Steve grabbed Tony around the middle, hiding behind him- Tony laughed, grabbing onto
his arm-

“Daddy. You’ve been in here a long time.” Morgan pulled back the curtain, looking up at them and
Steve prayed that Tony’s body was at least blocking his from view. “Hi, Steve!” she hollered.
“Daddy, you’ve been in the shower for ages. I can hear the water.”

“I’m sorry, honeybunch,” Tony said cheerfully. “I needed Steve to wash my back off. I couldn’t
reach.”

“Well I’m hungry,” she told him.

“We’re finishing up. Go wake Peter. Start getting dressed. Steve and I are almost done- go on-” He
motioned her away and she left them, running out of the room. “Still think we should do this more
often? Oh shit- you’re really blushing-”

“I’m not wearing anything-”

“I actually noticed that one.”

“I hope she didn’t see-”

“They both see a fair bit of me,” Tony said cheerfully. He quickly scrubbed through his own hair.
“Not like we were doing anything risque.”

“It’s different. I’m not her parent,” Steve protested helplessly.

Tony cupped his face. “Captain,” he said patiently. “You’re taller than me. Everything was hidden,
I promise. Besides- she’s four. Bodies are just bodies to her. But we need to get going- I think
we’re behind schedule if she’s coming to find us.”

“I guess,” Steve mumbled. He finished washing soap off of himself. “I just- this is not how I
planned on telling the kids. What do they even think of our relationship? What if we’re messing
them up?”

Tony turned off the shower. Reaching out of the stall, he grabbed a towel for Steve then one for
himself. “I don’t think we have to say anything right now. If we don’t make a big deal of it, they
won’t either.”

Steve wasn’t sure this was true, but he kept his doubts to himself. He dried himself quickly
following Tony out to his bedroom. “You’re going to have to get them started, I left all of my clean
clothes upstairs.”

“Take your time. But hey- I was very interested in the conversation we were having before-”

Steve had to pause in the doorway, towel wrapped around his waist. Morgan’s entrance had wiped
out everything else from his head. “We were… oh!” Tony was beaming at him, all traces of last
night’s sadness wiped out. Steve knew he was pink. “Yeah,” he said, darting back in the room. “I
want to fuck you,” he whispered. He kissed the juncture of Tony’s neck and shoulder.

“Ditto, captain. Ditto.” Tony snapped his towel at him. “Go get dressed- we’re late for breakfast.”
 Chapter 87

“Are you sure that Sam didn’t want to come tonight?” Steve asked, following Bucky through the
crowds.

“Nah. He’s plotting. With Natasha. You know the two of them- they’re always up to something.”

“Tony would have gotten him a ticket too, if he’d wanted to… I thought he liked Chicago.”

“It might be too much to concede in public that he likes ‘the white man’s jazz’,” Bucky said
thoughtfully. He pointed at one of the concession stands questioningly. Steve took a look at the
long line and shook his head. “Unless you want-?”

“Nah, we don’t need it.”

They similarly waved away the man carding everyone- for all that he liked the chaos of one of
their bar nights, Steve kind of liked it when they stayed sober- like his company was entertainment
enough. No pressure to be funny or entertaining. They ignored the merch stand and made their way
up the stairs to the balcony.

“Chicago reminds me of your dad,” Bucky said, pushing Steve into the aisle first. He settled an
arm around Steve’s shoulders.

“Dad loved them. He met my mom at one of their concerts, I think?” Steve squinted. Mom and
him, they didn’t talk about these things as much now. He made a mental note to bring it up next
time he saw her. “Remember he used to sing along to all the songs? And the Beatles, Fleetwood
Mac, the Moody Blues…” He ticked them off on his fingers.

“You gave him such a hard time for being uncool,” Bucky murmured.

“Teenagers are shitheads,” Steve agreed. “Now I love all of those bands. How’s your family? I
haven’t been over to the Barnes house in a little while-”

“My youngest sister’s pregnant,” Bucky said. “Three sisters. One of them pregnant at any given
moment.”

“And your mom still thinking you’re going to carry on the family name,” Steve teased. He bumped
shoulders with Bucky.

“Mom still thinks Sam’s my roommate. Who would live with him if not for love? He’s a
nightmare-”

“Your dad gets it,” he offered. He didn’t understand Bucky’s family. He’d spent his whole life with
them, knew and loved Bucky’s mom, thought she was mostly a decent person, and didn’t get how
she could just have this gigantic blind spot. Everyone else knew her son was gay. And- she loved
Bucky. So it didn’t make sense.

“Dad was a surprise,” Bucky commented.

“Maybe your mom doesn’t want to let go of whatever family she thought you were going to have.”

“Yeah, I think she’s sad about the grandkids. Which is still ridiculous- between all of my sisters we
have a softball team. No boys though.”
“Your ‘roommate’ has nephews.”

“That’s right- he does.” Bucky laughed at that. “Maybe that will be what wins her over. So stupid-
especially this preference for boys. We got in so much trouble, growing up. She acts like she’s
losing something…”

“She’ll get over it some day.” Steve found Bucky’s hand, giving it a squeeze.

“It’s just bizarre, like she likes Sam and she’s nice to him-”

“I know.”

“I don’t really think it’s a race thing.”

“No.”

The lights in the theater dimmed once, sparking a cheer through the crowd around them and Steve
clapped his hands without thinking about it, blasting a quick whistle to add to the din. He grinned
at Bucky. “Here we go-”

All the lights went out- the stage lit up- and there was a swell of noise as the band immediately
launched into their first song. It took Steve 30 seconds to place what song this intro went with but
when he did, he whooped.

“You okay?” Bucky asked, three hours later when the show was over- it had been great- and they
were searching for Bucky’s beat up Chevy.

“Yeah! It was great,” he said immediately. It really had been. They’d played all the major songs;
Steve had forgotten that they were the band behind some of the songs.

“I saw you crying at one point,” Bucky said, never one to let Steve slip away unaddressed.

“Yeah,” Steve agreed. “I don’t always expect it to happen. It reminded me a lot of my dad. I didn’t
expect to get hit that hard-”

“We could have gone,” Bucky suggested.

“Nah, I like it, it just makes me a little sad too.”

“I get it. Hey-” Bucky punched his arm. “There we are-”

Steve slid into the passenger seat with a groan of satisfaction. “It’s still really bitching cold out,” he
said, cranking up the heat as soon as Bucky had the car on. “It’s basically spring now, Bucky-”

“It’s the end of February- That doesn’t mean it automatically gets warmer, we’ve been over this. It
just means now you can smell all the garbage and urine that’s been covered by snow these past
couple of months-”

“Ugh. We should all form a commune in upstate New York,” he mumbled. “Look at the stars, have
a big backyard…”

“Yeah, like that’s going to happen. Tell me how things are going with your genius,” Bucky said,
pulling out and merging into traffic.

Steve made a tsking noise, his tongue getting stuck against his teeth in his excitement to answer.
“We were talking the other night and I said,'' he started- he almost lost his nerve and had to
swallow- “I said maybe we could start to have sex. Like-? Cause we make out and he gives me
blow jobs and I try to return the favor, but we haven’t-”

“Like take it to a new level,” Bucky surmised.

It was easier to say these things in the dark. “You remember I got so fucked up after- after the
rape,” he said, stumbling over this last part. “I couldn’t even jerk it without getting upset.”

“Yeah, I remember.” Bucky reached over blindly, rubbing Steve’s face with his knuckles. “But
you’ve been feeling better?”

He looked at Bucky’s profile, illuminated by the backwash of car lights and street lamps, raindrops
on the window. “Yeah. If I start getting- mm, amped up- Tony stops. Every time. Things I don’t
even think about, but he’s good at anticipating-?”

Bucky pulled over to the side of the road, listening intently. He threw the gear back into park.
“Tony really cares about you,” he said. “He asks, sometimes, about what you want. Like flowers
and shit. We’re considered your experts apparently.” His tone was teasing, but his gaze was warm.
“I think you might have fun, having sex with him. He’s good looking.”

“He’s gorgeous,” Steve said, flustering himself. “I-” He’d been about to say that he didn’t know
what Tony’s interest was in him, but that wouldn’t fly with Bucky and it wouldn’t fly with Tony
either, if he found out. “I’m really lucky.”

Bucky gave him one of his more piercing looks. “You deserve good things, punk. You’ve worked
hard for it.”

“Sounds like Nat.”

“I taught her well.” Bucky pulled the car out of park again. “What else, Steve?”

He hummed. “Tony keeps saying- things- which could mean- but I mean, probably not-”

“Let go of your self doubt for a moment. Tell me real words-”

Steve half grinned. “Um, well… He says,” Steve licked his lip nervously, “that if I wanted to co
parent the kids, I’m basically already doing that. And maybe they could call me their dad too. And
he teases me about maybe getting married. I don’t know. He doesn’t joke about serious things so
maybe…?”

“What does he say when he teases you?” he asked curiously.

“I don’t know, he’s insane- He drew me a pair of rings the other day. Asked me if I’d marry him-”
Bucky slammed on the brakes, causing the car behind them to beep violently. “Sorry-” He couldn’t
help but laugh, massaging where the seat belt had caught him. “He wasn’t actually asking me to
marry him though, just if I would if he asked.”

“You’re both assholes, you’re perfect for each other-” Bucky was swearing. “Nearly killed me-”

“Sorry.” He was only minimally sorry.

“My fucking car’s one fender bender away from falling apart entirely and you-”

“Why don’t you fix your car?” he asked, grinning at Bucky. “You work in an auto repair shop for
Christ’s sake-”
“So would you marry him? If he really asked?”

“Yes,” he said without thinking.

“Huh,” Bucky said. “Good. You’re not always so decisive.”

Steve nodded vaguely. They’d arrived back at the Stark mansion. “I think I’m getting better,” he
said. “Hey- come here. I love you.”

“Let me know how it goes-”

“Oh, you’re such an ass.” He kissed Buck on the cheek. “Text me when you get home.”

“Yes, mom-”
 Chapter 88

Pete was the first one to find him. “G-good morning,” he stuttered through a yawn.

“Hi, bear. What are you doing up so early?” Steve asked, looking up from the paper.

Pete blinked. “I peed,” he said. “And then I went to look for you.” Steve knew this song and dance
by now. He wondered if he should feel flattered that he’d entered into Pete’s morning routine in
such a complete way. Morning pee, then look for Steve. He opened his arms and Peter crawled
into his lap.

“And I wasn’t in bed?” he prompted.

“And you weren’t in bed,” Pete agreed. “So I looked in Daddy’s bed.”

“But I wasn’t there?” He turned the page of the paper. He wasn’t really reading it at this point.
“No,” Peter said. Steve hummed. He bounced his knee gently and the five year old giggled. “You
always find me,” he said fondly.

“Always. Did you run today?”

“I did. Thirty minutes. It’s still cold outside.” He took a sip of his hot chocolate and held it out for
Pete next. Peter let him tip the mug into his mouth. “Hey, guess what,” he said.

“What?” Peter had those same beautiful eyes that Tony had. Steve pecked him on the lips
impulsively. He adored this little boy. “Today’s March 1st. We’re almost done with winter.”

Pete brightened. “My birthday’s in March!”

Steve lowered his mug again with a clunk. “Is it?” he asked. How did he not know that?

Pete was nodding excitedly. “March 24th! Are we going to have a party?”

“Of course we will. I’ll talk to Daddy.” ‘After I kill him,’ he thought. How had Tony forgotten to
mention this? Scooping Pete up, he kissed his forehead. “I love you.” ‘I’m not ready for you to be
older,’ he added mentally.

“I love you,” Pete replied easily.

He stroked Pete’s cheek with his thumb. Peter would never know how much he had Steve’s heart,
Steve was sure. He’d walk through fire to keep his children safe. “You’re my baby,” he told the
toddler.

Pete looked intrigued by this. “Like I’m Daddy’s baby?”

“That’s right. I love you with my whole heart.” This got him a smile.

Tony was coming down the stairs. “Hey,” he yawned, heading for the coffee pot. “You started
coffee for me. I love you.”

He stood up, carrying Peter on his hip. “Tony. Did you know this one has a birthday this month?”

Tony sniffed. “Oh, hey, it’s March. Hi, baby. Birthday’s in 3 weeks, huh?” He took a long swig of
his coffee and gave Pete a big kiss on his cheek. “What are you doing up this early, huh? Is it
opposite day? Morgan’s still in bed and here you are-”

“I found Steve!”

“Good job,” Tony praised without a hint of irony. “Come here. Oof- I don’t want you to be six,” he
said, and Steve’s annoyance dissipated. They were back on the same side. “Why not?” Pete asked.

“You keep getting bigger. I used to be able to hold you on one arm. What if you just stayed five
instead?” Tony combed his fingers through Pete’s unruly curls.

“No, I want a party!”

Tony’s eyes found Steve’s. “I guess we have to have a party.” Behind Pete’s head, Steve shook his
head. Tony’s eyes were laughing. “What were you two doing? Reading the paper?”

“Yeah.” There had been a mention of Tony in the newspaper that Steve didn’t like. He hoisted
Peter up. “Are you up for good?” The kid nodded. “Good. Come up with me while I shave. Keep
me company?”

“I’ll shave too,” Pete said excitedly. Steve nodded.

He shaved quickly, lathered Pete up and dutifully shaved his face. Tony had followed them up,
nursing his cup of coffee. “Go get dressed,” he told Pete. “We’ll follow you down in a minute.”

“Okay!”

“I have to pee.” Steve waited until Pete was out the door to put the seat up. “You okay?” he asked,
untucking himself.

Tony stood behind him, pressing his forehead to the place where his shoulder blades met. “Yeah,”
he rasped.

He flushed the toilet. Tony reached around to tuck him back into his pants, adjusting him carefully.
“Now we both have to wash our hands,” Steve admonished. Tony rested his chin on Steve’s
shoulder. “Worth it,” he murmured. But he obliged Steve.

“When’s Morgan’s birthday?” he asked after a moment where Tony stood with him, quietly
rubbing his back.

“Next month,” Tony said with a show of great reluctance.

“Next month-?” He was outraged. “Tony, why would you do this to me?”

Tony was laughing at him. “At least she’s only turning five. Another year of preschool, honey.”
Steve still felt greatly affronted by all this.

Morgan was sitting on Pete’s bed when they got down to the second floor. “Steve, you have to help
me with my hair,” she whisper shouted.

“I’ll get the detangler,” Tony said.

“Back to your room, Mo. Pete, you got this?”

“Yeah! I’m a big boy,” Peter agreed. Steve’s heart stuttered a little, but he nodded.

He sat beside Morgan on her bed, spritzing her hair with the detangler and slowly working out the
knots. How her hair got this messy, he didn’t know. Tony worked around him, helping her put
socks and underwear on, finding her a dress, coming back with the right dress when the first one
was rejected-

“Go eat breakfast with Pete, we’re almost done,” Steve mumbled, working the last of the tangles
out. “I’m going to braid your hair and then we need you to eat too,” he said to Morgan. Tony
clapped him on the back.

“Like Natasha?”

“Yes, like Nat’s hair. But not red.”

He was surprised when Tony joined him in the car after breakfast. “Coming with us?” he asked.

“Mm hm.” Tony yawned. “Got to take my mornings with my family when I can get them. Right
kids?” They weren’t even paying attention to him. “Tough crowd.” Steve snickered at him.

“I’ll run them in,” Tony said when they got to the school.

Steve paused in the act of undoing his seat belt. “Okay,” he agreed. He twisted in his seat to look in
the back. “Bye, babies. I love you. Be good.”

He pulled his phone out, finding the article that he’d been reading that morning. Tony hadn’t told
him he was stressed about work as well, but then they’d mostly focused on his wife the other day
and that was fine but-

Tony opened the door, and Steve startled. “Sorry,” Tony apologized, putting his hands up. He got
into the car, pulling the door shut behind him. “What are you reading?”

Steve didn’t want to ruin their morning prospects- usually when Tony came with him on the school
run, he followed up with some adult fun- but he didn’t want to conceal anything from the mechanic
either. He handed over his phone, pulling out into traffic.

Tony read the beginning of the article aloud- ‘Stark Industries owner called into question
concerning business decisions, detailed by long term business partner who states that he fears
widower might be taken advantage of by…’ “That’s garbage,” he said, closing the article. “You
don’t believe that, do you? That you’re taking advantage of me?”

“No.”

Tony beamed at him. “Good. Cause you’re not.”

“Is Stane really putting out interviews about how unstable you are?”

“Yes,” Tony said unconcernedly. “Pepper takes care of my PR. Besides, I’ve been getting a lot of
good press lately. The gala for my mom, donations and research towards cancer research, the green
energy project I’ve been working with Bruce Banner… Some people might think I’m crazy.
Someone always will. I only care about what you think.”

“I’m proud of the work you do. You know that.”

“Good. Then put thoughts of Obie out of your head. I was looking for our Friday morning
tradition.”

“Mm. Me too,” Steve admitted. “If you don’t think it’s improper-”
Tony grinned at him. “It’s going to be a little improper, but I don’t plan on announcing it to the
shareholders, if that’s what you mean. As long as you still want to, Captain?”

“I really want to.”

Jarvis wasn’t in the kitchen when they got back to the house and Steve seized on the opportunity.
Grabbing Tony by the collar, he tugged him towards the backsteps. “Ah, a bed,” Tony moaned. “A
man after my own heart. I’m too old to kneel on the floor indefinitely.”

“You’re incorrigible. You know we could probably make out at night and then you wouldn’t have
to cut into your work schedule?”

“What’s the point of owning a company if you don’t fuck around every once in a while? Goof off,”
he clarified, seeing the look on Steve’s face. “I set my own hours. And I’d like to see what filthy
noises I can get out of you when you’re not nervous about being heard-”

Steve shut his bedroom door with a snap. He locked it, even if they were alone in the mansion.
“You bring out the worst in me,” he said, toeing off his shoes. He shimmied out of his jeans. “How
much time are we working with this morning?”

“I blocked out the whole morning.”

“Jesus, maybe you are off your rocker-”

Tony crawled onto the bed beside him, grabbing his hip and pulling him into a filthy kiss. Steve
rolled, slowly lowering his weight down on the other man and Tony let him. “Try not to worry
about what you read in the papers,” the mechanic suggested. He tangled his fingers in Steve’s hair.

“I worry about everything,” Steve confessed.

“I know. But you don’t have to. At least tell me about it when you’re worried,” Tony said.

Steve thought about it. Below him, Tony looked mussed up, deliciously askew. “I will,” he agreed.
The brunette smiled at that. “This definitely distracts me,” he said, working one of his knees up the
bed and between Tony’s legs. Tony rather shamelessly humped it, grinding against him.

“Distraction can be good,” the other man said, rather breathlessly.

He hummed. Grabbing Tony’s hips, he pulled him close, letting the mechanic straddle him. He
rolled his hips up.

“You’re like a bucking bronco,” Tony laughed, curling down so that he was on top of him. “This
okay?”

“Yeah,” he gasped. “Touch me, please, Tony-”

 Chapter 89

“Tony…”

Tony wasn’t paying attention. He was trying to wrestle Morgan into her favorite bathing suit which
was unfortunately now a size too small for her. “Mm? Cap, I need the Crisco-”

“No, you don’t!” Morgan yelled, who was laughing.

“Baby, I don’t think this suit fits you anymore-”

“But it’s my favorite,” she said.

“Look how it’s pinching you, honey,” he said, holding her up by her legs so that she was basically
folded in half. “Let’s put on your second favorite- this big blue one-”

“That’s not my second favorite-”

“Pete, how you doing, bud?” Tony yelled. He twisted around again to look at Steve. “Sorry,
Captain. What’s up?”

“Uh, nothing,” he said, looking at his phone. Tony looked up, catching his eye. Steve plastered on
a smile for Morgan’s sake. “Just the news,” he mumbled. “Another article.” Tony took his phone
from him, scanning the article that had just pinged on his phone.

Steve leaned over Morgan. “My beautiful girl, you look very uncomfortable. Daddy’s right. We
can’t even get the top part over you.”

“But it’s got Winnie-the-Pooh on it,” she complained. “And strawberries.”

“It’s very pretty but I want you to be comfy. Can I pick a different suit?”

Morgan sighed, but she began to wriggle out of the bathing suit, almost kicking Tony in the head
by accident- he shifted down on the bed, petting her ankle absently. Getting up, he joined Steve in
the closet. “I’m sorry, Steve. But at least they didn’t put your name in.”

“They smell blood in the water,” Steve said sourly. “They’ve used up the perspective that you’re
being used cause you’re so-” He glanced at Morgan, who was laying across her bed now, playing
with her fingers, “And now they’re trying to make you out as some kind of deviant-”

“But we know that it’s not true. This article is absurd. It’s even more insane than the last one.”

Steve did know that but it didn’t make it better. “How about this one, baby?” He worked her purple
suit with the attached tutu up over her legs. Standing her up, he pulled it into place. “See? You look
beautiful.” He kissed her lips. “Now put your sweats on so you don’t get cold on the way over.”

They left her to it, ducking into Pete’s room. They had to be more careful here- Pete was far more
observant of them than Morgan was. Tony wandered into Pete’s bathroom; Steve trailed his fingers
through Pete’s hair. “You have your bathing suit on under there?” he asked.

“Yeah.” Pete peeled back his sweatpants to show Steve his dinosaur swim trunks.

“Good boy,” Steve said distractedly. “Give me a kiss-”

“I’m done!”

He pivoted, looking up at Morgan. She was hopping on one foot, trying to put socks on. “Go find a
towel and put it in my gym bag- okay?”

“Be careful on the stairs,” Tony added. He handed Pete his own towel. Peter stood on his tiptoes to
kiss Steve on the cheek.

“I’ll put mine there too,” Pete called, dashing after Morgan.

They looked at each other. “Suing papers like this only adds fuel to the fire,” Tony said. “You
know that I’m not your ‘sugar daddy’- that’s absurd. And I know you’re not having an affair with
Bucky of all people. It’s obviously just a picture of two friends at a concert. Not news.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry they took your picture.”

“It’s a shitty picture. Bucky laughed it off. But… I don’t know. I wasn’t even with you at the
concert. They’re following me around now?”

Tony squeezed his hand. “It’ll pass. If this is too much-”

“I’m not leaving you,” he said firmly.

“My life sometimes is in the spotlight,” Tony said, and he wasn’t laughing now. “I’m sorry I pulled
you into it too. I know you don’t want to be there.”

“It’s okay, I just-” He grimaced. “It makes me mad, that’s all. Men can’t be affectionate with other
men? Bucky and I are both in relationships and they see one picture of us talking and they think
I’m cheating on you-”

“No, it’s shit, I agree. I-”

“Are you guys coming?” Morgan asked, barging into the room. Peter trailed after her. “We’re
going to be late!”

“We’ll be there with plenty of time to spare,” Tony promised. “Right, Captain?”

“Yeah. Come here, I’ll pick you guys up,” he said.

Tony grabbed the gym bag in the front parlor as well as Steve’s jacket. “I’ll be fine,” Steve said,
when Tony made a motion for him to put it on. Putting it on would mean putting down the kids.
“Let me get them situated in the car and then I’ll take it. Only a couple of minutes.”

Opening the backdoor to the car, Tony wedged Steve’s gym bag down at the foot space. He took
Morgan from Steve, getting her into her car seat. Steve slid around the back of the car, cuddling
Pete to him.

Pete stroked his face as he worked the straps over him. “Steve, are you upset?”

He almost said no, but they’d agreed to be honest with the kids as much as they could. “Just a
little. Not with you.”

“Why are you upset?” Morgan asked.

“Someone at the newspaper took a picture of Steve and Uncle Bucky the other day,” Tony said.

“Why?”

Steve didn’t have a good answer for that. “They think we’re dating,” he said. Both kids laughed at
that, which did cheer Steve up a little. “But Bucky’s dating Sam,” Morgan said.

“I know,” he agreed. Tony tossed him his coat which he slid on. He got into the front seat. “Isn’t it
silly?” he said, and suddenly it did seem absurd. It didn’t bother Bucky. It didn’t bother Tony.
They both knew it wasn’t true. Why did it bother him? “Let’s put it out of our heads,” he said. “I’m
looking forward to your swim lesson.”

“I’ll turn the heat up,” Tony said, backing out with his hand on Steve’s seat. “It’ll warm up fast.
Promise.”

“Daddy, can you swim with me this time?” Pete asked.

“Sure,” Tony agreed cheerfully. “We’ll switch.”

Pulling onto the main road, he reached out for Steve’s hand. Steve let him grasp his fingers,
relishing the warmth that came from Tony holding it against his thigh. He didn’t know what to do
with all this outside attention, but he did know how much he adored Tony. So things would be
okay. He hoped.
 Chapter 90

“He looked like he did a lot better,” Steve murmured to Tony that night.

Temporarily setting the kids down on Tony’s bed had turned into something far more permanent
about two books into bedtime.

“Yeah, I don’t know that he’ll ever be an Olympian athlete, but he’s not as scared.” Tony sat on
the bed, watching the kids sleep. “Swim lessons really take the mickey out of them, huh?”

“I think it’s a combination of the water they swallowed and all the exercise. Are you keeping them
in here tonight?” Steve yawned. He was pretty tired himself.

Tony drew him close, pressing his face against Steve’s torso. “I thought so. Want to join? We
could shift them over.”

“Nah, they look so comfy.”

“Okay. Still thinking about that gossip rag?” Tony’s eyes were closed. Steve bent down to kiss him
on the lips. He shook his head, turning his head to deepen the kiss.

“We can’t control others, can we?” he said in between kisses. Still, it did worry him at the back of
his mind. “You were right,” he added, pressing his forehead against Tony’s. “Nobody who matters
believes that story.”

“Was Bucky upset?”

“Bucky thought it was hilarious. Sam bought a copy of the paper which is only rewarding them-”

“They’re idiots,” Tony said happily.

Getting up, he tugged his sweater over his head, dropping it to the ground. He let Steve unbuckle
his jeans, laughing silently when Steve tugged them off, one leg at a time so that Tony had to lean
against the bed to keep from falling. Steve leaned over him, pulling him close so that the
mechanic’s back was pressed to his front. He kissed him on the ear.

“You could stay,” Tony whispered again.

“No. I’m looking forward to my bed with all of its space,” he said back. Even quieter, “I’m too
aroused to be in your bed right now.”

“Yeah, I can feel that-”

There was a noise on the bed and Steve looked over. “Oh, bear, did we wake you up?” he asked,
letting go of Tony who refused to move away, instead leaning against Steve more. Pete blinked
sleepily at them. He shook his head. “I’m sorry,” Steve said anyway. “Look at you. You can go
back to sleep. We’ll be quieter.” Brushing Peter’s hair out of his face, he kissed his forehead.

“Are you helping Daddy put on his pajamas?”

“That’s right,” he whispered. “But first I had to give Daddy a hug.”

“Cause you love him?”

“Two for two. You’re so smart.”

“Are you going to sleep here?”

“No, pumpkin. There are no vacancies in this bed right now. I’m going to head upstairs. Take a
shower. We all still smell like chlorine.”

Tony was climbing in the bed on the other side. He rubbed Pete’s belly, reaching over Morgan.
“Back to sleep, kid. Daddy and Steve will still be here in the morning.”

“Kay…”

Steve came around the end of the bed to tuck Tony in under the covers. Really just an excuse to
touch him a little more. Tony was obviously tired, his limbs soft and heavy, reaching up lazily to
trace Steve’s jawline. “We should go on a date,” he suggested, running his finger down the line of
his nose.

“I’ll call my mom. See if she’s up for babysitting.”

“Could be fun…”

“It’s always fun with you,” Steve said warmly. Taking Tony’s hand he kissed his palm.

“Come here. Just for a minute- please-” Tony pulled him down on top of him, Steve protesting as
softly as he could while still registering his discontent but he was laughing. Tony’s hands roamed
over him, cupping his ass, circling his hip, running fingers through his hair. He slipped a hand
under Steve’s sweatpants and cupped him.

“You’re incorrigible.”

“Thanks, I work out-”

Steve tucked his face into the crook of Tony’s neck, trying not to laugh and wake up the kids. He
shifted his hips, earning some friction. “Alright, I’ve got to get out of here,” he said finally,
jumping to his feet. Tony was smirking at him. Steve got to his feet, bandylegged, sweeping his
hair back; he swung around and kissed Tony one more time, reveling in his joy, his luster. “Good
night,” he said firmly.

“Night, Captain.”

“I expect you to take me on that date,” he added at the door. He flicked off the lights without
waiting for a reply.

Padding downstairs, he checked the door- locked- and picked up some scattered clothes and toys.
He edged his way through the living room and the dining room, turned out the lights in the
kitchen, and checked the back door. Tony’s AI would have security all set up, he knew, but it was
still important to check.

Having completed his loop, he headed up the backstairs to his bedroom on the third floor.

He left a trail of clothes on the floor. Flopping on his stomach, he opened his messages; he yawned
into his elbow. ‘Hey,’ he typed. ‘Still on for breakfast tomorrow?’

‘Always. You bringing the kid?’ He sent a thumbs up to Nat and bid her goodnight. He’d forgotten
to tell Tony. He could go downstairs but he was really too lazy to get dressed again. He texted him
instead- ‘Don’t wake Pete up with Mo tomorrow. We’re going to do breakfast with Nat.’

A buzz as he was getting up. ‘Fine. Sounds like you should be down here. I thought you had
REASONS to be upstairs.’

A smile curved his lips. ‘I’m taking the problem in hand as we speak.’

Another buzz. ‘Picture?’

He bit his lip to keep from laughing. ‘Absolutely not,’ he wrote back.

But he thought about it as he fell back down onto the bed. ‘One picture,’ he texted finally. He had
to scramble up the bed to turn the light on and he muffled a groan at the sudden brightness. He
shifted around, looking for the best angle and feeling stupid and pleased and too old for this shit all
at once.

Tony was quiet for a full minute after Steve sent the text off and if he wasn’t used to how the
mechanic was, he would have been anxious. Instead, he lay there, waiting-

His phone rang, startling Steve. He picked it up on rote instinct.

“Hey, good looking. You up?”

“You’re ridiculous, Tony,” he shot back, whispering even though he was upstairs. “You’re going to
wake the babies.”

“Wild horses couldn’t wake the kids right now. They’re sacked out. Morgan’s snoring- listen-
Anyways, I’m quiet. What are you wearing?”

“You know what I’m wearing,” Steve laughed. “I’m hanging up-”

“Hang on- I’ve got a question.”

He waited silently, knowing that whatever Tony said, it was going to be profoundly stupid. His
toes curled with the thought, the anticipation nearly making him laugh in and of itself. “What is
it?” he asked at last.

“Where have you been my whole life, Captain?”

He let out a breathy laugh. “Brooklyn.” He ended the call.

 Chapter 91
Chapter Notes

This one comes early as I'm going to be busy tonight; enjoy!

It was Thursday, the kids were over at his mom’s house, Tony was finishing up his last meeting
and Steve was waiting to find out where they were going on their date. Tony had said it was a
surprise. Tony tended to have good surprises.

He’d turned on a basketball game by the time Tony wandered out. “And where is tonight’s
adventure?” he called over his shoulder.

“Hopefully nowhere.”

He turned around at that, leaning against the back of the couch so he could see the mechanic better.
Already, he was grinning. “Wow, we’re past going out on dates already? I agree to go out with you
and you start taking me for granted-”

“I’ll bring you out to all the restaurants and shows and movies that you want, I promise, but I
thought I’d pay you back for the past week. Interested?”

“I’m interested in literally everything you do,” he said in a helpless rush. Something he would have
normally felt too vulnerable to admit. “So you got rid of the kids…?”

“There are things I’d prefer they don’t accidentally walk in on.”

He pulled Tony down onto the couch, onto his lap, and the mechanic rearranged himself carefully
so that he was balanced over the captain but not pressing down on him necessarily. By putting his
hands on his hips, Steve was able to guide him down the remainder of the way, his thumbs finding
all the divots and indents of Tony’s body. “Such as?”

“I could provide a written list,” Tony suggested.

“I’d rather you show me.”

He felt Tony’s smile on his lip, brushed his nose against the other man’s, cupped his ass. “Am I
going to starve tonight?” he asked next, eliciting a breathy laugh from the brunette.
“Entertainment’s asking too much apparently, but could I eat, Tony?” He kissed him quick, a sharp
press of the lips; Steve could feel the joy surging through his body.

“You’re going to get both entertainment and dinner,” the mechanic soothed. “If you don’t find
tonight satisfactory, you can leave one hell of a review with the better business bureau-”

“You didn’t make Jarvis stay late tonight, did you? I thought he got off early today- I watched him
go-”

“I’m cooking for you, Cap.”

A pause. “Do we have enough penicillin for that?” Tony punched him in the arm.
“I know how to cook.”

“It’s just that I’ve never really seen you cook.”

“I made breakfast on Christmas. And hot chocolate the right way.”

“Ah.” His face hurt from smiling so much. “The two main food groups.”

Tony rocked back on his heels, pretending to be annoyed. Steve could tell he wasn’t by the way he
kept almost smiling, his lips twitching in a telling manner. Besides, Tony rarely got mad and never
at him. “I could scrap my plans for the evening for a more traditional sort of date,” he offered.

He shook his head violently, palming the mechanic’s stomach. “Never,” he said. “I love your
plans. I want to see what else you’ve got on the docket.” And, because he was gone for this man-
“You’re so beautiful when you’re getting teased.”

Tony was lit up like a Christmas tree. He positively radiated. Slipping off of Steve, he made his
way out of the living room and towards the front of the mansion. Steve followed in his wake, eager
to continue what they’d started on the couch. Dinner could wait.

Tony held out a hand, patiently waiting for him to catch up. “Take my hand, Captain?”

Steve turned out the lights to the first floor, stepping forward in the semi darkness to where Tony
was standing. He let Tony take his hand, intertwining their fingers. “What were you thinking of
doing tonight?” he asked, nervousness and elation mixing in his voice.

Tony rubbed his hand briskly. “Whatever you want me to do.”

“You didn’t tell my mom we were just going to shag tonight, did you?”

“Is that what we’re going to do?” Tony asked, ignoring Steve’s question entirely. He swallowed,
his Adam’s apple bobbing. He shrugged, trying for nonchalance. “Well, no, I didn’t. A gentleman
doesn’t tell.”

“Everyone probably knows what we’re doing,” he complained.

“Mm, I mean, we could have gone out to dinner and a movie like we said we were,” Tony said,
using Steve’s suspenders to draw him up the stairs. “We got dressed up for it- sort of.”

“I got dressed up, you threw a blazer over this ridiculous kitten t-shirt-”

“I knew we wouldn’t make it off the block,” Tony said, his voice a smile. “Why besmirch a good
suit? Then I’d have to pay for dry cleaning.”

“Sam just sent me a text- ‘let me know if the movies get rave reviews’ with like sixteen
exclamation points, they definitely know I’m fucking you tonight,” Steve said, pulling out his
phone and then dropping it on the bedside table.

“Your side of the family is so communicative,” Tony quipped. “Sorry, if you were going for
subtlety, I wouldn’t have been so insistent on the kids being out of the house. We could have just
shacked up in some motel like normal people.”

“Is any of this normal? My god-”

Tony was leaning on his bedroom door frame, smiling at him softly. “We don’t have to do
anything at all tonight, you know,” he said. “I could spend the next twelve hours with you in my
arms and feel perfectly content.”

“Not me. I need you. Like the air I breathe,” he added, cause he wanted to see Tony’s reaction to
that.

“Aw, well that’s kind of sweet and horny all in one, Captain.” Tony ducked into the bedroom,
gesturing for Steve to follow. “Tell me how you want tonight to go.”

“You know what I want.”

“I’d like to hear it again. Indulge me.”

“I want,” he swallowed. “To go further than we have so far. I want to touch you- everywhere- and I
want… I want to fuck you.” He was sure that he was blushing by now. There was a ringing
sensation in his ears, usually the first sign of impending nerves. “Is that okay? I like it both ways. I
could- could-”

But he didn’t know if he could be on the receiving end. And it wasn’t what he’d been picturing for
weeks now. He took another brave stab at the conversation. “I think about you,” he admitted. “The
things I could do to you.”

Tony was watching him, his eyes dark. Steve swallowed. He continued. “Taking you apart. Getting
that silly grin off your face.” He shouldered his way out of the suspenders, letting them dangle
down where they were connected to his pants.

“Tell me what else,” Tony said, standing in front of him and pulling him closer by using the
suspenders.

“I want- I want you.” God, his heart was beating too quickly. Like riding a rollercoaster. “I love
you. I adore you. There isn’t a part of you I don’t want to know. But- I want,” he faltered, gesturing
towards his chest, “to leave my undershirt on. Is that okay?”

Tony looked almost pained. “Of course you can. You never have to ask.”

“I’m not made of glass though,” Steve said strongly. He gestured towards himself. “I’m not
delicate. You can’t break me,” he said, telling himself that as much as he was telling Tony.

“I would never even try,” Tony said softly, his hands trailing over Steve’s hips, hooking under the
waistband. Steve lifted his hips and the mechanic edged them down a couple of inches. “Okay?”
he asked.

“More than okay,” he gasped. “Take them off.”

“What about your boxers?”

“Everything. I just want the shirt- just this time-” He didn’t know why. He just liked having this
one last barrier. It didn’t make sense, he knew. Tony had seen him without it.

Tony didn’t waste any more time on it. He pulled both boxers and pants down, working them
gently over his ankles in a way that reminded Steve he was about to have sex with a parent, not a
playboy. Steve felt nervous and excited all at once. He watched Tony’s eyes traveling up over the
exposed skin, actually starting at his ankles and then up to where he was most exposed. He saw the
mechanic’s Adam’s apple bob.

Steve folded his hands over his stomach, trying to remain calm. “It’s not like you’ve never seen
me,” he said. “You’ve seen a good portion of me over the past couple of months. Nothing new.”

“I’m seeing you now,” Tony said hoarsely. “If I don’t tell you enough, I think you’re beautiful.”

Beautiful was never the adjective Steve had been expecting from the other man and he could feel
his face begin to suffuse with blood. He fondled himself idly, breaking eye contact with Tony.
Lazily, he began to work himself over. “Want to turn the light off?”

“If you want me to.”

Steve considered. He trailed his hand over his thigh and then up his torso, slipping a hand under
his shirt to play with his nipples. Tony sucked in a breath and Steve had to grin. “Leave it on,” he
said. ‘You make me feel desirable again,’ he thought. Tony’s reactions were more than worth the
shyness he felt.

“I think,” Tony said, pulling the blazer off and then his shirt over his head. “We don’t need to do
everything in one night. You know?”

“That’s probably for the best,” Steve agreed, his heart thumping away. “I like you. I trust you. It’s
just…”

“Let’s ease back into it,” Tony said agreeably. “What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to stop getting undressed,” Steve said. He grinned when Tony frowned. “That’s my
job.”

“Oh you like that, do you?”

“It’s not a matter of like, it’s a matter of need,” he said, his voice low. “And if it’s okay… I’d like
to be the one to-” He made an explicit gesture with his fingers. Tony grinned faintly at him. He
nodded. “We’ll take it slow?” he asked, feeling unduly nervous.

“We have all the time in the world, Captain.”

True to his word, Tony left off of undressing, letting Steve do it at his own pace. There was a
serenity to the act, Steve dipping down to kiss Tony gently, then more fully with each passing
moment, pressing his weight to the shorter man, pushing him against the bed and yet, keeping him
upright.

He pulled Tony’s jeans open, letting them drop naturally down his waist as he kept Tony moving,
always on the edge of his tiptoes and chasing the sensation of their kiss. He slipped his hands down
Tony’s back and cupped his ass, squeezing and feeling the give and bounce. “Mine,” he whispered
to the mechanic. He inhaled, breaking the kiss and brushing his nose against Tony’s forehead.
“You’re mine.”

“All yours, Cap,” Tony agreed, his voice low. Was it Steve’s imagination or did he sound rather
breathless?

Steve bent at the neck, pressing his forehead against Tony’s. He dropped small kisses on his lips,
occasionally adding some tongue in. When he felt like he had completely distracted the mechanic,
he pushed down on both boxer briefs and jeans alike, letting them drop down to the floor. He put
his foot over the garments. “Step out of them,” he said, his voice noticeably deeper.

Tony gave him a cheeky grin, but obeyed. “Are you going to leave me in my socks?” he asked.
“Not very sexy.”
“Dunno,” Steve said, grinning himself now. He lifted Tony onto the bed, chasing him a little when
the man slid himself backwards. “It’s not very sexy having your size 7 fudgsicles pressed up
against my ass-”

“I wear a size 9 shoe and that was one time-”

Steve tugged off the socks, dropping them over the side of the bed. Bending Tony’s leg, he pressed
a kiss to the sole of his left foot and then his right. “Fuck, that shouldn’t be hot,” the mechanic
complained.

“Why not, it leaves you in the perfect position for me to do this-”

“Shit!” Tony’s legs began to tremble after the first minute. Steve held them in place semi-patiently,
enjoying being able to give Tony pleasure for once; it seemed like he was always the person
receiving, being taken care of, and while he enjoyed that- and needed it- this was something he
hadn’t dared try in quite some time.

“I’m going to,” he tapped Tony’s prostate with his finger from the outside and the other man made
an ungainly keening noise, “inside you. Okay?”

“Ngh,” Tony babbled. He drew his legs close to his chest reflexively. Fumbling, he found a tube of
lube and dropped this down to where Steve was. Snicking it open, Steve worked on coating the
fingers of his right hand.

Steve kept his hand where it was, using just the one finger to continue to work the muscle slowly.
He crawled up to where Tony was, encouraging him to let his legs drop down again. If they kept it
up like this, neither of them were going to last long enough to do anything. It occurred to him this
was their first time either of them had tried anything of the sort in a very long time.

He kissed Tony again, softly and languid, trying to tease some of the blood back upwards so the
night didn’t end abruptly. “Hey,” he said.

“Hey yourself,” Tony rumbled. He gasped when a second finger joined the first.

“Sorry. Trying to be gentle,” Steve said. Their chests were pushed together. He could feel the
mechanic’s nipples peaking through the cotton of his shirt. “Don’t want to hurt you, when I-”

“Take your time,” Tony gasped. “I’ve seen what we’re working with. I’d rather be well prepped.”

He laughed into the crook of his neck. “I’ll take good care of you,” he promised in a low rumble.
He scissored his fingers, adding another. “Won’t hurt you. Won’t let anyone ever hurt you.”

Tony squeezed the back of his neck. “I trust you,” he said. His fingers scratched through his hair.

“Do you want me to- condom-?” Steve breathed out.

Tony’s eyes were soulful. “Nah. Like feeling you.”

And afterwards-

Tony grabbed his wrist, pulling him back towards the center of the bed. “Don’t leave,” he said
quietly. “Please?”

And Steve, who hadn’t been sure where he should go or what to do afterwards, was startled into a
yes. “I’ll stay,” he promised. “I’ll never leave you.”
He shook out the blankets, covering them both back up again. Tony sighed in satisfaction. Steve
thought about finding his skivvies at the very least, but there was something oddly appealing about
staying here with Tony like this, nothing between them and no kids to find them in the morning.
He crawled under the covers towards the mechanic and collapsed into his arms. He mouthed kisses
to the man’s clavicle.

Tony worked his fingers through Steve’s hair. “Feel good, Captain?”

“Yuh.” Steve had forgotten how sleepy sex made him. Tony chuckled, his voice low and fond.
“Like how I remember it… from before…”

Tony drew him up, curling his arms around his shoulders. They looked at each other. Tony’s eyes
were surprisingly watery, like he could cry. “Good,” he said, and he’d lost some of his smooth air.
“That’s really good, Steve.”
 Chapter 92

“Steve… Steve, wake up.”

Someone was petting his hair. Steve snuffled, curling in on himself and pulling someone- Tony, his
mind supplied- closer to him, seeking out his warmth. He could smell Tony’s cologne, teakwood
and eucalyptus, and he left an open mouthed kiss on his neck.

“Oh, Captain. Baby.” Tony sounded fond. “You should wake up. Open those eyes.”

“Mm. Tony?” He rolled over, blinking himself awake. There was his Tony, beautiful and soft
around the edges due to Steve’s sleepiness and- oh- “I fell asleep?” he asked, confused.

“Just for a little bit,” the other man said fondly. “You get tired, huh?”

“I’d forgotten…” He should be embarrassed but found that he wasn’t. “I always get kind of sleepy
and dumb after sex. The others always teased me about it…” He trailed his fingers over himself,
expecting tacky skin, but-

“Yeah. I cleaned you up a little while you were out,” Tony said, sounding a little unsure. “Me too.
Hope that’s okay. It’s fun in the moment but rough to wake up to later…”

“Thanks, Tony,” he said, surprised and a little tearful because it felt so loving, having someone
take care of him so thoroughly. Tony hadn’t had to do that. “Did you fall asleep at all?”

Tony shook his head, getting up from the bed. Coming around the end of the bed, he pulled Steve
into a seated position, taking the time to just hold on to him. Steve allowed himself to be cradled in
the other man’s arms, feeling abundantly safe. “I was enjoying watching you,” Tony confessed.
“And I wanted you to get some rest. You really did a lot of the heavy lifting-”

Steve groaned a little, his mouth quirking happily.

“At any rate,” Tony said. “I promised dinner and it is now nearly ten o’clock. So I had to wake you
up.”

“Makes sense,” Steve said softly, slumping forward. He tilted his head, looking at Tony through
his eye lashes. “You never finished,” he said slowly. “Did you-? While I was sleeping?”

“Nah. I had other things on my mind. I thought maybe I’d finish off later,” the mechanic said.
“Like I said before- there’s no rush. No pressure. Swing those legs over the side though, Captain.
Food’s almost ready.”

Steve complied slowly, letting Tony kneel in between his legs, working a fresh pair of boxers up
his legs. He stood up, one hand on Tony’s head for balance, and pulled them up the rest of the
way. The mechanic kissed the inside of his thigh before standing himself. “Slippers,” he said
cheerfully, plopping the slippers that Sam had given him for Christmas down on the ground.

“Is this all I’m wearing? Don’t I seem underdressed?” he asked wryly.

“I’ve got something for you. Been meaning to give it to you for a while now- forgot-”

Tony had gotten him a kimono style robe, dark blue with silver stitching and lining and he helped
put this on Steve next, the former soldier fingering the detailing with interest. “Tony, this must
have cost-”

“It was worth every penny,” Tony interjected, smoothing the material over his shoulders. “Are you
warm enough?”

“Yes,” he agreed, closing his eyes sleepily and leaning on Tony for his body heat.

“Good. If you do get cold, I’ll warm you up,” Tony offered, taking his hand. “Come on, Captain.
Let’s put something in you now.”

“Ugh, Tony-”

“What, not romantic?”

“You ruin everything,” Steve said tartly, struggling not to laugh. Tony made it so hard. “What did
you make for dinner?”

“Lasagna al forno. It’s in the oven. Soup and salad to start. You need your energy after a big race-”

Steve had a lot of things he thought he’d say in reply to that, but by then Tony had gotten him
down the stairs and through the kitchen and into the dining room and- “Oh, Tony,” he said,
stopping in the doorway and grabbing the door to keep it from swinging into them. “What did you
do?”

“Flowers. And candles. Far enough apart that it’s not a hazard,” Tony said, seeming to watch for
his reaction.

Steve was swept away. He looked around the room, only lit up by dozens of candles. Tony had
filled it with a prism of color, different flowers on every surface. Nobody had ever treated him like
this before. He opened his mouth. “I love it,” he said huskily. “You didn’t have to.”

“I think,” Tony began, leading Steve over to one of the two place settings and pulling out the chair,
“it’s the things we don’t have to do that are most important to do. Sit down,” he urged, patting
Steve’s shoulders. “I assure you that you’re worth any gesture I could possibly dream up.”

He leaned back, letting his head rest of Tony’s shoulder. “You’re so good to me,” he whispered.

Tony was quiet, tracing his jawline. “I love you, Captain,” he offered at last. “Let me get the soup
and we’ll start eating. I’m hungry too.” He grinned faintly.

Steve put salad on both of their plates for them while Tony went back into the kitchen. It was
raining outside; Steve could hear it behind him from where he sat at the head of the table. “We’re
not going to want to do anything after eating all this food,” he told the brunette when he came back.
“I hope you know that.”

Tony grinned faintly. “That’s why we had sex first.”

“You’re so smart,” he said, deadpan, beginning to work on his soup.

“They tell me I’m a genius, but I don’t get to prove it much on the homefront,” Tony joked. “This
is the soup that you and Jarvis made me when I got sick last fall, remember?”

“I remember,” he said softly. He hadn’t known that Tony had remembered. “My mom makes it for
me when I get sick.”

“My family never really cooked. Jarvis did the cooking,” Tony said, a little tilt to his head as he
thought about it.

“I’m no culinary genius, myself,” Steve admitted. And- “You did really good with this.”

And Tony’s smile was beatific. He let Steve tangle fingers with him, Steve eating the salad left
handed. He wished he had a way to tell Tony how much he loved him in these moments, how
grateful he was for the mechanic’s kindness, his gentle nature, the way he loved without
expectation of returned favor.

“Tony, will you love me forever?” he asked, suddenly, gripping the other man’s arm. He could feel
the muscles there, under his grip, the way Tony’s hand flexed reflexively.

“Forever and a day,” Tony agreed, sounding like he was quoting something only he knew. Steve
wanted to know more, knew that he always would. There was an understanding in Tony’s eyes that
he’d spent his whole life looking for.

“And you promise,” Steve licked his lip nervously. “You won’t ever get tired of me?”

Tony studied him, taking a sip from his glass. With a deft twist of his arm, he’d managed to grasp
Steve’s hand in his own.

“I promise,” Tony began, “that there will never come a day that I don’t wake up, grateful to have
you in my life. I promise that I’ll always buy you too many flowers. Make dinner too late for you.
Forget to take you out to the movies. I promise I’ll always listen to you try to explain sports,
although to be honest, they really don’t make any sense at all.

Steve nodded, his throat too tight to talk. Too tight to eat anything. He rubbed his thumb down the
tendon in Tony’s arm. “I’ll be ready for more after this,” he said, his voice low. “I can already tell-
I’ll want to do more. Is that okay?”

Tony smiled, the expression developing as if exposed film in a darkroom. “Whatever you want,
Captain. You are my love, Steve.”

“So no dessert?” Steve asked, after a little while.

Tony’s expression turned wicked. “Strawberries and whipped cream,” he said, leaning against his
palm.

And Steve could still blush apparently. He pushed away his salad plate. “I’m going to save room
for dessert,” he said sagely.

“An intellectual decision,” Tony observed wryly.

 Chapter 93

“Tony didn’t want to come out with us?”

“He said he didn’t want to intrude on our time,” Steve said. Approaching the counter, he returned
the bowling shoes he’d rented. “I said he wasn’t but…”

“We’ll get him,” Bucky said. “One of these days.”

“He’s with his friend Happy anyways tonight. At the house.”

They looked back to find the others. Natasha and Sam were still squabbling over the score- Steve
knew they’d have gone for a tie-breaker, just the two of them, if the bowling alley hadn’t been
closing. Even now, they were discussing a separate night- “Think we’re invited to that?” he asked,
pointing at their two extroverts.

“Oh, we’d just get in the way.” Bucky leaned against the counter top that ran the length of the
alley. “You going back to the house or with Nat?”

“Nat. I haven’t had our cuddle session in weeks now. I need it.”

“Tony never takes issue with your arrangement?”

He smiled, shaking his head. “No. He thought I was dating Natasha back at the beginning of me
working there. Did I ever tell you that? He said he was jealous at the time.”

“You didn’t realize?”

“I thought he was interested in Natasha,” Steve confessed.

“You’re both idiots,” Bucky said. “I’m glad.”

Steve was going to say more- they’d surprisingly left him alone most of the night, not asking too
many questions or pushing him much, but definitely leaning together to talk whenever it was his
turn to go grab a round at the bar- But the others were there and the teens running the bowling
alley were clearly antsy to get out. “Let’s trade,” he said. “Everyone grab their sore loser-” He
tugged on Natasha’s arm, grinning at her.

“I’m not a sore loser, that was a cheap shot that final round and I think-”

“Bye guys,” he called, blowing kisses to them and walking backwards beside Natasha through the
parking lot until she bodily turned him around. He swung around theatrically, slipping an arm over
her shoulders and holding her close against all the cold and any other perceived dangers the world
proposed. “You were definitely right,” he said loyally.

“You’re just appeasing me.”

“Never. I was the one who taught you how to bowl. I’m protecting my legacy-”

“You’re such an idiot,” she said fondly, getting into the passenger side when he held the door for
her. He leaned over the door as she buckled herself in. “That’s what Buck said,” he told her.

“See, I’m right. Get in. It’s very cold.”

“Only cause it’s past midnight,” he said affably, taking care to close her door carefully.

He liked driving around the city late at night like this- it was never entirely deserted, of course, but
this late at night there was much less traffic, especially once they crossed back into Brooklyn-

“Did you have fun tonight?”

“I always have fun with you,” she said, her hand on his arm.

“Good.”

“What are you working on these days?” she asked, ducking out of the car when he’d parked.

He followed her through the garage and into the little kitchen. Reaching down, he grabbed the
brown and white Persian who was making a concerted effort to escape. “Peter has a birthday
coming up. I wanted to paint something for him, but I don’t know what.”

“Like something symbolic?” she asked, taking the cat and softly bowling Sonny down the hall. He
gave her an affronted look and stalked off.

“I kind of want it be symbolic, but also just something that he would enjoy cause he’s five- he’s
not going to get symbolism. And then Morgan’s birthday is the month after. And Tony’s in May-
the whole family all in a line, what were they thinking?”

“I’m sure Tony was trying to screw you even back then,” she teased, dumping her keys and other
pocket items out onto the catchall table. “Come upstairs- I’m tired out-”

He tugged off his boots and followed her upstairs. “Tony’s finding me a motorbike to fix. We’re
going to work on it together,” he told her.

“You haven’t driven a motorcycle in years,” she said.

“I thought it was just a part of my rebellious early twenties, but apparently not.”

“Bucky might be of some use,” she said.

He slipped into her attached bathroom. “I think they’re talking to each other,” he called, putting the
seat up. “Tony likes to scheme as much as any of you-”

“He fits right in.” She got out her toothbrush.

Finishing up, he washed his hands and set about brushing his own teeth. Like Natasha, he was
plenty tired too. They’d both gotten up early that morning to hunt down the final pieces for his
mom’s birthday party coming up the next weekend- he still couldn’t believe Tony had agreed to it
and had the sense that maybe he didn’t know what he was getting himself into-

“So…” Natasha was changing into her pajamas. Steve wasn’t going to bother- he stripped down to
his skivvies, edging around her and leaving a line of clothes that he knew drove her just a little bit
nuts- she was already giving him a stink eye which he pretended not to see.

“So?” he asked himself. Steve stretched out on the bed, closing his eyes and humming happily. She
nudged his knee with her foot. “Did you do it?”

“Do what?” he teased.

She tsked. “Suddenly, you’re going to be demure? Did you fuck?” She crawled onto the bed,
leaning against his stomach.

He opened his eyes, laughing silently. He could see her moving where his stomach was shaking.
“Yes,” he agreed. “We did the deed.”

“The others were curious.”

“They should have asked. Like you did.”

“Mm,” she hummed. “They’re trying to be sensitive.”

He tugged on her arm, pulling her into his embrace. Brushing his nose against her hair, he sighed.
“It’s kind of them,” he said. “But I like to gossip.”

“I know you do.”

He rolled, settling her on her back and propping himself up so he was above her. There was a lot he
wanted to say, some of which he should probably keep to himself, other stuff that was probably
pathetic but was still important to him, and then there was the fact that talking about sex in general
always sounded a little dumb. “It didn’t hurt,” he said, smiling faintly at her.

She traced his face with her fingers, then pulled him close so she could kiss his forehead. “Good.”

“You know, before the rape, I really enjoyed having sex.”

“I remember,” she said, laughing a little at him. “You’ve been enjoying yourself lately, haven’t
you?”

“I have,” he agreed, and it was with no little sense of wonder. “I never thought I’d get that back. It
wasn’t that I thought I was broken, necessarily,” he said, his fingers moving expansively. “I just
thought, that part- it was gone. And it’s not. I-”

He cut himself off. “We did a lot of filthy things,” he said, grinning self-consciously. “I guess it
doesn’t make sense to try to make it sound like something profound.”

“Lay down,” she said, holding onto his arm to keep him in place. “It was never about the sex,
Steve.”

He nodded, breathing quietly. “You know, if you had told me three years ago that I was going to
become president or write a best selling book, I could have believed it, cause I figure- I’m a hard
working guy, not completely dumb. But if you’d told me there would be a time when I didn’t think
about what happened every minute of every day, I wouldn’t have believed you…” She was gazing
at him steadily. “It just seemed like it would always be there. But it isn’t.”

“You made it back, Steve,” she agreed. “Welcome to the other side.”

He kissed her nose, making her scrunch her face. He laughed at this and she shook her head at him,
but she was smiling at him. He saw in her that preteen girl, forced to move back in with her
grandparents, the barely 30 something year old that had been waiting for him after his final trip
home, her arms folded in front of her, her worried green eyes. His anchor. Someone who had loved
him unconditionally for more than two decades.

She broke into his thoughts. “It’s never been hard to imagine that things were going to work out for
you someday,” she said, touching his hand with her fingertips. “You’re such a warm soul, Steve.
Didn’t I tell you that you just had to hang on?”
He looked at her, moisture clouding his vision. “Thanks for sticking with me through the bad
times. I never once felt alone when I had you.”

“You’ll never ever be alone,” she promised. She folded herself closer into his arms.
 Chapter 94

“You know what I think?” Tony asked one night when the kids were still playing in their shared
space down the hall.

Steve looked up from where he’d been reading about dinosaurs. He stuck his book slip in, marking
his page. “What do you think?” he asked, folding his hands over his stomach.

“I think- and you can tell me to shove it, if you’d like- you should sleep down here all the time,”
Tony suggested speculatively. Pressing his shoulders back against the headboard, he waited to see
what Steve would say apparently.

“And then what, get dressed upstairs every morning?”

“No, you fool- we’d put your clothes down here-”

Steve was grinning at him and Tony shook his head. “Got you,” Steve said happily. The mechanic
gave him a look of deep resentment, but Steve felt like he was walking on clouds. “You really
mean it? You want me down here? What if you get sick of me?”

“First of all, I’ve been heavily suggesting for months that it doesn’t make sense to stick you
upstairs like you’re the redhead step-cousin of our tribe and second of all, how dare you-” Steve
spluttered; Tony’s fake offense was endlessly funny to him.

“But I’m still the nanny,” he pointed out. “Unless we’re completely doing away with that farce. But
I need to be paid. In case things go awry. I’ve got my mom to think about.”

“You are still the nanny,” Tony agreed, taking off his reading glasses and tossing them on the
bedside table. He crawled forward on his stomach, laying beside Steve so that both their feet were
on the pillows. “For as long as you want the title.”

“And when I get rid of it?”

“You trade it in for a new title,” Tony said gently. “Have you considered what you’d like them to
call you?” He waited patiently for Steve.

Steve bit his lip. He felt almost foolish suggesting it. Even now, there was a part of him that
thought maybe Tony would wise up, realize that Steve was a fraud, kick him out- “I called my dad
Papa when I was little,” he whispered, his ears turning red. “When I was a teenager I thought I was
too cool for it. But I liked calling him Papa. And I was thinking… it feels right.”

“Daddy and Papa, huh?” Tony was smiling at him. He rolled onto his back. “I like it,” he offered.
“Really denotes who does what. I’m moneybags and you’re the one with all the emotions-” Steve
socked him in the side.

“The kids might not want a second dad,” he said, because that was easier than saying ‘they might
not want me to be their Papa.’

Tony saw through him anyway. “The kids picked you first, baby.”

“If they hadn’t liked me, I might still be trying to pick up singles at the bar,” Steve said with a
shudder. “I should get them something.”
Tony rolled over. “We could talk to them about this, you know. Sometime-” He’d been trailing a
finger idly down Steve’s side-

He jolted at Tony’s featherlight touch and the other man froze. He couldn’t help but giggle, a little
mad at himself- and Tony paused. Reaching out very slowly, he ran his fingers down Steve’s other
side. That got a very strong response from Steve.

“You’re ticklish,” Tony accused.

“No. Well, just a little-”

“How much?” Tony was grinning at him. He stayed back on his haunches, watching Steve
speculatively.

Steve wet his lips self-consciously. “A lot if you touch me softly. Want to find out?”

Tony crawled up over him. Kneeling over his lap, he looked fairly cautious. Steve smiled at him.
He nodded. Tony leaned over, running his fingertips across Steve’s ribs and down his sides. He
had that stomach dropping feeling and he shuddered happily.

Tony grinned. “Oh, god, how have I never known this? Captain- you’ve been holding out on me-”

“You’re always so careful about how you touch me-”

“Where else are you ticklish? On your feet-?” Steve nearly kicked him; he willed himself to stay
straight- it was a challenge- Tony was off, checking his hips and his sides, trailing fingers across
his stomach, his touch featherlight-

Steve curled underneath him, laughing his ass off. He twisted and turned; above him, Tony was
also laughing.

“No, no, no,” he pleaded and Tony stopped, leaning back again. “Oh, you did stop,” he said,
catching his breath.

“Of course I stopped…”

Steve could feel his heart racing, but it was all in good fun. He grabbed Tony’s hips, sliding him
closer. Taking a couple of deep breaths, he felt himself calm down. “Do it again,” he said.

“Yeah, baby? Okay.”

Tony found his most ticklish spots with the relentless efficiency of an engineer and parent. Steve’s
sides ached from laughing so much; he felt practically lightheaded from a lack of oxygen. Tony
only prolonged the exercise by giving him small pecks on the lips-

“What are you doing?”

Steve had been shifting backwards unconsciously; now, he leaned his head over the edge of the
bed, looking at the door. “Daddy’s tickling me,” he said. The two kids were watching them from
the doorway, looking deeply interested. “Save me-”

Morgan was the first one to cross the threshold. Coming over to where he was, she cradled his
head with both her hands. “You’re ticklish?” she demanded. “You never said that!”

“Exactly my point,” Tony said, pulling Steve upright. “Your face was turning all red, hanging
upside down like that.”
Morgan wedged her foot onto the bed frame, pulling herself up by clawing her way up the sheets.
Steve twisted around, reaching for Pete. “Come on up, Petey,” he begged. “Were we too loud?”

Peter shook his head earnestly. “You were laughing a lot,” he marveled.

Steve hauled him up into his lap. “Laughing’s good for you.”

“I want to tickle you,” Morgan said, bouncing on the bed. He hummed, looking down at Peter.
Pete nodded, crawling out of his lap. Steve shrugged, laying down on his side of the bed. “I’m
really ticklish on my sides,” he confessed. “If you touch lightly, right here-”

They didn’t quite have Tony’s skilled fingers but they were determined. He laughed more at their
determined expressions than the actual tickling but they didn’t need to know that. Morgan sat on
his abdomen, playing with his hands. Pete rolled over Steve’s legs and found Tony.

“We should have another sleepover,” he implored. “Like in November-”

“We just had a sleepover in February,” Tony suggested, his eyes crinkling. Steve thought he was
just putting them on; Tony was even more of a soft touch than he was. “I don’t know…”

“Please,” Morgan called. “Daddy, say yes!”

“What do you think, Captain?”

“I think it’s a good idea,” he said, reaching out a hand for Pete, caressing his side. “Speaking of
good ideas-” Tony looked up, interested. Steve wasn’t sure he was ready to talk about everything
yet. The fear of rejection was still there, under it all. “Daddy suggested that I sleep down here from
now on. What do you think?”

“In Daddy’s bed?” Morgan asked, swinging forward to look at him. He nodded. “Yeah,” she
decided. “Then you don’t have to climb those stairs all the time.”

“And you won’t be lonely,” Peter added softly.

Steve’s heart stuttered from the amount of love he felt. “Both good points,” he said, rather thickly.
“And I could make sure Daddy spends more time in bed.” He gave Tony a devilish grin. “Getting
eight hours of sleep is important,” he said.

Tony was smirking. “I’d spend eight hours in bed,” he agreed. “Let’s find some books for
storytime if you’re staying in here,” he added. The kids slid off the bed after him. Steve could hear
their excited yells and Tony’s tenor.

“Papa,” he whispered, trying out the word. He hadn’t said the word in about 25 years.
 Chapter 95

“So I’m turning six this month and your mommy’s turning sixty?” Pete asked, looking at the cake
that Jarvis was decorating. He was fidgeting but Steve could tell he was doing his best to behave-
whatever happened happened after that-

“Sixty something,” Steve amended. “We’re not quite sure how old she is. She floated down to us
one day holding an umbrella…”

That wasn’t true at all, they did know her exact age but had decided a while ago that it was funnier
to leave it up in the air. He didn’t quite know how to explain that to his still-a-toddler-for-now five
year old. Something about the way Pete looked at him, with so much implicit trust, made it hard to
keep talking anyways.

“It’s a really big cake,” Peter told him, pointing at it. He looked up at Jarvis who smiled softly at
Peter and nodded.

“There’s going to be a lot of people,” Steve said gently. “How do you feel about that?”

The toddler thought about it. “Who?”

“Well… lots you know- Daddy and me, Natasha, Sam and Bucky, and my mom, of course. My
mom’s sister Lisa and her three children- those are my cousins. And Bucky’s mom- she’s friends
with my mom- and two of his sisters. Plus Natasha’s little sister might be there. A couple more of
my mom’s friends. And the Jarvises, of course.”

“Woah.”

“Yeah. Woah.” Abandoning his own task, he swept Pete up in his arms. “I know big parties are
scary for you. Is this okay?” They didn’t really have many options for babysitting, considering
most of the people he would normally ask were going to be there. Steve supposed perhaps Happy
would watch them, if he had to, but he’d rather not press the bodyguard into service.

Pete considered it all. “Are there going to be any more kids?”

“Maybe. My cousin Margaret has two kids. And Bucky’s sisters both have kids. Would you like
that?” Kids would make it more chaotic, but it didn’t matter if it made Pete happier. His mom
would love to have children there, of that he was certain.

“I could show them my room.”

“You could.”

Peter pet his face. “And you and Daddy will be there?”

“Absolutely. You know how happy I’d be if I could hold you the whole day?” He saw a hesitant
smile break out on the kid’s face. Pete kissed him then, impulsively on the cheek, leaving a wet
mark. “Jarvis, want kiss?”

The butler had been unrolling his sleeves. “Just the one, then,” he agreed. But he matched Pete’s
kiss on the cheek with one of his own. “Why don’t you go see how Daddy and Morgan are doing
with the balloons?” he suggested.
“Okay.” Pete dashed off.

They watched him retreat, the butler pantry door swinging in his wake. “Think he’ll be okay,
tonight?” Steve asked.

“I think he’s gotten much better in new situations,” Jarvis agreed. “How old is your mother,
really?”

“66.”

“Quite young then. Compared to some of us.” He raised his eyebrows at Steve, who was brave
enough to finally ask what he’d been dying to ask for months now. “How old are you, Jarvis?”

“83.”

“Oh my god,” he said, probably a little insultingly. “And Tony still makes you work?”

“He’s insufferable but he needs me,” the old butler quipped. “You, if anyone, could understand
that.”

“I’m going to go get dressed. It’s almost time,” he said. “Thanks for helping, Jarvis. Truly-”

Tony might be insufferable, but he was high in demand. Steve followed his mom through the first
floor as she dragged Tony by her side, introducing him to all of her friends as ‘Steve’s dreamboat’.

“Mom, cut that out,” he tried. “Talk about something else. What do you want to get today-?”

“Grandchildren!”

“Oh god-”

Steve honestly wasn’t sure the blush would ever come out of his skin it had been seared so deeply
into his skin, but Tony laughed literally every time she said it and threw him hopeful glances back
throughout the evening, so Steve just shook his head and grinned and beared it and all of his
mother’s friends laughed at him some more.

“Tony’s making a fool of me,” he told Bucky and Sam at one point in the night, wandering over.
He was beaming though, feeling almost intoxicated. “He’s told every single one of my relatives
and my mom’s friends that I’m ‘adorable’. I didn’t have a lot of street cred before this but this
knocks out whatever was left.”

“Your mom is helping him,” Sam observed, opening a beer for him. “Those two are dangerous
together, Steve-”

“I know.” He took a swig. “Is it bad that I like the attention?”

“Nah. You are adorable, punk.”

Morgan found him. “Why aren’t you with the other kids?” he asked, swaying with her. “It looked
like you were having fun. Are you?”

“Yeah. But Steve- where are all your mommy’s gifts?” she asked, placing her palms on his thighs.
Ducking down, he tried to explain that his mom didn’t need a ton of presents at this point in her
life. Morgan looked dubious when he said that spending time with her friends and family was just
as good. He ruffled her hair. She wasn’t even five yet.
“At least she gets cake,” Morgan said decisively.

“And we got her some presents,” he agreed. “She’ll open them tonight after everyone else leaves.”

Morgan hummed. Shrugging, she turned around and dashed off back towards the other kids. Steve
watched her rejoin Pete and two of Bucky’s sister’s children, plus some of his second cousins.

“Isn’t he a hunk?” he heard Tony say to his aunt Lisa.

“He was always adorable. I always thought he looked like me-”

“That makes sense to me.”

“Sarah was right, you are shameless-”

“Go tell him off,” Bucky advised, having clearly been listening as well. Steve nodded. He took off,
dodging people and arrived at Tony’s side just in time to see that Lisa had brought baby photos- of
course she had-

“I’m stealing him,” Steve said, cutting in and grabbing Tony by the shoulders. “Hi, Lisa-” He
planted a kiss on her cheek, grinning at her- She smacked his shoulder and let them go- “Come
here,” he said, dragging Tony down the hall and into his lab.

“Save those photos, I want to see them later,” Tony called after Lisa. She waved him off.

Steve closed the door to the lab, with a little sigh. It was markedly quieter here.

“Everything okay-?”

Steve kissed him, pressing him against the door. He surged towards the mechanic, bodily lifting
him off his feet. “You’re such a human disaster,” he gasped. “Why am I so in love with you?”

There had been a moment of surprise in Tony’s face but it was gone now, replaced by his usual
easy going nature. He shrugged one shoulder, pulling a face. “I have many loveable qualities. Just
ask your family-”

“Oh, they’re going to all tell me about your qualities,” Steve complained, dropping Tony down so
that he was just holding the man against his chest now. “I’m going to get a lot of phone calls after
this.”

“Let me listen in, okay? I want their honest assessment-”

Steve just shook his head, sinking to his feet and letting Tony drop down onto his own. He
unbuckled Tony’s suit pants and the other man hissed. “Are you sure-? We have most of our
combined families out there-”

“Lean against the door. This’ll take five minutes tops, look at you-”

“What’s your family going to say? I want their approval,” Tony said, but he curled his fingers
through Steve’s hair. Steve just hummed, shrugging his shoulders. He waited, looking up at Tony-
“Oh, go ahead,” Tony groused. “If anyone asks, we’ll say it was a business call.”

“Nobody will believe that.” He took Tony in one movement.

He found Natasha a half hour after that. “Fun party,” she said. He nodded, sitting beside her.
“Where’d you go?”
“Lab,” he said quietly. “Think anyone noticed?”

“Your aunt and Bucky, yes. Everyone else, probably not. Didn’t take long,” she whispered.

“I was motivated. Got any gum?”

She dug through her pockets. “You’re so gross sometimes,” she advised him. “Moments like this, I
remember that you’re not that shy sophisticated painter that you’ve been trying to play off all these
years, you’re just a big, dumb jock-”

“Lisa will keep my secrets,” he said happily, interrupting her. “Not that mom would care
necessarily-” He glanced around, locating her at once. She was telling seemingly half the room a
story. No wonder they’d gotten away with it. Everyone was laughing. He took the proffered gum.

“You two going to take pictures in the photo booth before tonight’s over?”

“Maybe. I forgot about that- Should we?” He stole another piece of gum from her pack.

“Yes,” she said decisively. “You’re cute with your matching bow ties.”

“We don’t match. His is red and mine’s blue.”

“Who wears bow ties in this day and age? You guys did it to match. Oh- Jarvis just signaled us. I
think it’s time for cake. Come on-” Grabbing his hand, she pulled him towards the kitchen. He
made another sign to Sam and Bucky as they passed and the two men began to round up stragglers.

He dimmed the lights just in time for Jarvis to wheel in the cake with its dozens of candles on it,
burning like a mini forest fire. He scooped Peter up as everyone began to sing, helping ease him
through the crowd to where Tony was standing with his mom and Morgan.
 Chapter 96
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Steve had been outvoted. He’d wanted to go to the Met. The kids (and Bucky) had voted for the
Natural History Museum. And now-

“Petey, baby, what are you looking at?” Steve asked, getting down on the five year old’s level.
“Oh-”

“Look, Steve- spiders,” Peter said excitedly. “Aren’t they cool?”

“Yeah,” he agreed, but privately he thought that he could live without them in his life. He
understood they did more good than bad, but it didn’t make it easier to look at them, especially
these live specimens that Peter was examining with their hairy legs and creepy eyes. “You like
spiders?” He would have thought Peter would have been just as creeped out by them as he was.

“We’re reading a book about spiders at school,” Peter said, leaning in really close. Steve couldn’t
help it- he grabbed Pete’s shoulders, holding him to his chest. “There’s all kinds of spiders in the
world.”

And he was off, describing the different kinds and where they could be found and who did what
with their nets. Steve never understood how the kids could store such large quantities of
information in their heads, but also routinely forgot to brush their teeth or bring their cups down
from their bedrooms.

Kissing Pete’s crown, he looked for Morgan and Bucky. Morgan had coaxed his friend into
carrying her- they seemed to be examining the enlarged cross section of a bee hive.

“Do you like spiders?” Peter asked finally after a good ten minutes of monologuing.

“Maybe not quite as much as you do, pal,” he said. “But I love how much you know about them.
You’re my smart cookie.”

Pete preened under the attention, reminding Steve unmistakably of Tony in that moment. He
stroked Steve’s ear. “Where are we going next?” he asked.

“Let’s check with Bucky and Morgan. We probably won’t see everything that’s here today- it’s so
big.”

Peter took his hand as they made their way through the crowd, squeezing Steve’s fingers and
thrumming with excitement. Steve dragged him closer when a family got close to overtaking him.
He felt a twinge of annoyance- they could have knocked Pete down.

Instead, he walked with both hands on Peter’s shoulders, steering him. Pete was giggling and this
must have caught Bucky’s attention cause he looked up.

“Looking at the spiders?”

“Peter’s an expert.”

“Morgan didn’t want to look at them. Did you?” She shook her head. Bucky shifted her to his other
arm; she hung on to his shoulders.

“We were thinking about where to go next,” Steve said lightly.

“Jewelry,” Morgan said, pointing at the gemstones exhibit sign out in the hall.

“And dinosaurs,” Peter said, tugging on Steve’s hand.

“Plus, Steve, Steve-” Morgan reached for him, leaning into the chasm between him and Bucky- He
caught her under the armpits, and pushed Pete towards Bucky, trading toddlers essentially. “Steve,
I heard someone say there were butterflies. But it’s cold. Daddy said they go to Mexico.”

“These ones live inside,” he advised her. “Gemstones, dinosaurs, butterflies. Got it. Then we’ll
make a new plan.”

“I can walk,” Morgan announced.

“As long as you hold my hand,” he said. She nodded and he let her down, taking her hand firmly in
his because he’d never lost the fear of her running away in public. She took Bucky’s hand too.
“We’re going to get more articles about us, this way,” Bucky joked quietly.

“Can you stand it?” he asked.

“Oh, sure. I’ve dated worse men-”

“Oh, god,” he commented.

Pete led the way to the gemstones, looking up at the ceiling for directions and then checking
behind him. Steve hustled, never letting Pete more than five feet ahead of him. He wondered about
the parents around them that didn’t seem to be paying attention. Kids were all over the place, but
where were their parents? One girl got close to ducking under a partition while her mom took
pictures on the phone-

It was really hard not to judge people sometimes.

And- “Did you know one of the first curators of this museum was a white supremacist?” he
mumbled in Bucky’s ear. They slid behind the kids as they looked at the different gemstones and
jewels. Buck gave him a startled look. “I guess that’s not surprising,” he said.

“The guy was really into paleontology,” Steve said, nodding at the dinosaurs sign. “They built this
place and nobody wanted to come in and see it cause PT Barnum had had a museum not far from
here with much more fantastical stuff- cause it was mostly fake stuff- and then it burned down-”

He picked both kids up, balancing them on his hips, as an entire group of school aged children
came through, crowding them-

“So the guy was really interested in dinosaurs and he funded Barnum Brown to go on digs- he was
the first person to find a t-rex skeleton- and then he set up the museum so you’d have to pass all
these racist exhibits to get to see the dinosaurs, cause the fossils were what started bringing people
in at last-”

“It’s not surprising but still disappointing,” Bucky commented.

Steve looked at the kids. “Want to see the dinos before that big crowd comes in?” They nodded.

“How do you know all this anyways, punk?”

 “The book I’m reading-”

But the kids weren’t listening- they’d seen the dinosaur bones and Steve was distracted now too-
“Woah,” Morgan said, squirming to be let down.

“Hold Bucky’s hand-”

“I’ve got her.”

“Steve, they’re kind of scary,” Peter whispered, pressing his cheek against Steve’s. “That’s so big.
These are real?”

“Most of the bones are. They excavated them,” he explained. “Here- there’s a chart. See some of
these bones aren’t real- because they didn’t find a complete skeleton.”

“Where did the other bones go?”

Unbidden, he thought of a different book he’d read about this museum, one that talked about a
room downstairs that six Eskimos had been kept in after being kidnapped from Greenland. They’d
put the bones of one of them on display after he’d died. Steve shivered a little. That was something
he’d wait to tell Pete about.

“I don’t know,” he said thoughtfully, forcing himself to think about dinosaurs and only dinosaurs.
“We’ll have to read more about dinosaurs. Are you okay? Or do you want to go?” He brushed hair
out of Pete’s eyes.

Pete seemed torn. Judging from the way he clutched at Steve’s shoulder, he did feel a certain
amount of fear. But Steve could also see his interest reflected in his eyes as he gazed above them.
“Do you think they’re scary?” Pete whispered.

“A little,” he agreed.

Pete’s eyes examined the t-rex from snout to the tip of its tail. “I think we’ll be okay if we stick
together,” he said doubtfully.

Steve kissed his cheek. “Definitely,” he agreed.

Chapter End Notes

Once you get 96 chapters into a story, you do have to accept that this may no longer be
a oneshot... And change the story description...
 Chapter 97

Tony was gone when he woke up.

Steve didn’t understand. There was no note. The blankets had been pulled into place. Reaching
over, he touched the other side of the bed. Cool to touch. He rolled on his back, looking at the
ceiling.

Waking up next to Tony was rapidly rising to the top of his list of favorite things.

Tony was warm and handsy; he jammed himself, more often than not, into the space between
Steve’s body and the bed. Tony always wanted Steve to stay in bed five minutes longer.

So where’d he gone?

Out, had been Jarvis’s response when Steve went down to the kitchen to ask. Somewhere early this
morning when he’d been working on breakfast, Tony had left in a hurry and he’d promised the old
butler that he would update both Jarvis and Steve when he was able to.

The two men exchanged a look in the kitchen and then split up, going about their normal duties-
Jarvis preparing breakfast, Steve getting the kids up and ready. The kids were too sleepy to read
much into Tony being gone. As long as Steve was there, they felt largely unconcerned by his
absence apparently.

It was just- Steve was officially over winter. He was ready for spring. So what if it was only the
middle of March- he was tired of short days and slushy old snow on the sidewalks. Tooling over to
the preschool, he wished it was warm enough for him to walk over and pick the babies up. He’d
really enjoyed that.

Another ping. He’d gotten a text. He pulled the phone out after he’d parked, opening his messages
as he walked up to the front of the school. He paused on the threshold.

Tony had texted him. ‘Have to work late tonight. Probably won’t be home for dinner. I’ll explain
later.’

“You won’t be…” He felt anxiety bubble in his stomach. Tony wasn’t usually that terse.

He shoved the phone back in his pocket. There was nothing to do right at that moment; he had to
pick up the kids from school and he’d figure out a way to broach the topic with them some time
this afternoon, hopefully with more information himself.

He mentally shook himself off as he crossed the threshold of the preschool, waving a quiet hello to
the receptionist and proceeding down the hall. “Hi, babies,” he said, his heart soothing a little,
seeing their little faces waiting for him. “Hey, it’s really yucky out today. Can we change out of
your shoes? I brought your boots.” He held up his bag.

His mind was still going over all the calls and texts as he helped them, Morgan hanging on to his
hair to stand steady while she navigated into her boots.

He did up their coats, zipping them all the way up. “I wish we could go to a playground,” Morgan
said, looking up at him.

“Me too, but not today, honey. It’s actually spitting snow. I think we’re in for the rest of the day.”
Without Tony, his mind supplied.

Morgan pouted. She was tired of winter too, he figured. Peter spoke up. “We read a book about
snowy days in class,” he said. “There’s lots of things to do inside!”

Steve had to hug him. Peter was their steadfast voice of positivity, growing steadily stronger every
day. “Of course, baby. Let’s go home and change into our pjs and maybe read some books for a
while…” If he could get them to nap, he was going to spend that time trying to figure out what
exactly was happening in the world. He’d gotten a weird message from Sam that morning; this
combined with Tony’s message made him feel like he was starting to go crazy.

The snow was picking up, coalescing into something more solid, by the time they got home. Steve
didn’t like the idea of Tony out in this, working late in the Tower. He wished he’d stayed home
instead. It wasn’t even supposed to snow this late in the season. March meant no more snow.

“Let’s get you guys out of those wet clothes,” he said, turning his attention to the kids. They clung
to his hands, practically pulling him up to the second floor.

“Steve, can we watch a movie tonight?”

“Yes, but you can’t stay up late.”

“Which movie?” Pete asked, coming out into the hall, his overalls undone and trailing behind him.

“We’ll pick together. You’re going to trip on those straps.”

He sent a quick text to Tony- ‘Is everything okay?’ and followed Pete into his room. “Oh, you’re
all clammy. Let me get a towel.”

He rubbed the towel briskly over Pete’s hair and down his back, laid him down on the bed and
toweled his legs off. Pete hummed happily; he loved when Steve took charge. Steve could hear
Morgan talking to herself in her room- she liked the independence. He could only hope she was
actually putting pajamas on.

“Here’s your shirt. Show me how you can put that on.” Over his shoulder- “Morgan, how’s it
coming along?”

“Good!”

A text. ‘Damage control. I’m taking care of everything- nothing to worry about.’ Well that did
make him worry. Another text. ‘Don’t turn on the news, please.’

He was on the verge of an anxiety attack. He handed Pete his pants. “I need to make a call, baby.
Can you finish up?”

He considered his options. Sam was running a group right now and he couldn’t exactly bring the
toddlers to a VA PTSD support group. Bucky was definitely working- Fridays were his busy days.
Nat-

He dialed her. “Hey,” she said, picking up right away. He inhaled. He didn’t usually get this
anxious these days. He’d thought he was past it. She was talking to him- “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice sounding strange even to his own ears. “Yeah, nothing’s wrong.
Apparently. Hey-” He cleared his throat. “Are you working right now?”
Morgan was at his side suddenly. “Steve, look, I’m wearing purple pants and a pink top-”

“Hi, Mo. Look at you.” He bent down to look her eye to eye. “You look beautiful, baby girl. Can
you and Pete pick out some books for me? I’m just talking on the phone for a couple of minutes.
Thank you.” He steered her towards Pete’s room.

He inhaled. “Steve, you don’t sound like ‘nothing’s wrong’,” Natasha said. “I can step away from
what I’m doing. Talk to me- you know you’re my priority.”

“I don’t know if anything wrong,” he confessed, lowering his voice. “Tony’s sent me a couple of
weird texts about having to do ‘damage control’ and he’s not going to be home for dinner and-” He
inhaled. “He was gone when I woke up this morning, so I haven’t spoken to him all day but I’ve
been pretending everything’s fine for the kids so that they don’t get worried, but maybe there’s
nothing wrong and I’m just spiraling for no reason. I’m sounding a little crazy, aren’t I? My
anxiety-”

“I get it. I’ll look into it on my end. You know my work gives me a little more insight into what’s
happening in the world.”

He breathed in, nodding. Realizing she couldn’t see him, he verbalized his acceptance of that fact.
“Okay…” she said, typing away on her end. “There was an airstrike in the middle east. Some
people are making noise because Stark Industries usually supplies weaponry for the soldiers in that
area…”

His stomach turned. “Is everyone alright?”

“It seems like it was a demonstration from a paramilitary group. Aimed at some mountains. But…
the military recovered some fragments from the airstrike.”

‘People,’ his mind shouted at him. ‘Soldiers are hurt-’ He still had friends that were actively
deployed-

“Fragments from the missile. It seems someone is using Stark tech.” Right. Natasha was still there.
His mind was getting away from him.

That made no sense. Tony had worked very hard to get his weaponry out of the region. And he
would never sell to the enemy. Stark Industries had always supplied to the US government. So then
why-? “Steve, you still with me?”

“Yes,” he said. “Trying to figure it out.”

“I’m sure that’s what Tony is also trying to figure out.”

“So people are blaming him for this…?”

She was quiet, evidently looking up more information. His skin itched. He wanted to google it
himself, but Tony had encouraged him not to. He waited for her. “Opinions seem divided,” she
said finally. “If Tony says to stay away from the news, I would. It’s just a lot of unsubstantiated
claims right now. Take care of the kids. Wait for Tony to come home. Okay?”

“Okay. Okay, I’m actually feeling better. Just- just got overwhelmed for a moment.”

“Need me to come over?”

He took a breath in. “No,” he decided. “I just needed you to help me refocus. I’m okay.”
“I understand. Call me if you feel bad again. I love you.”

“I love you,” he echoed.

He went into Peter’s room. They’d formed quite the stack of books while he’d been talking in the
hall. “Steve, how many books-?”

He ran his fingers through Pete’s hair. “As many as you guys want. Is this your stack?” He picked
it up. “Let’s read in Daddy and I’s room.”

“Are you going to put pjs on too?” Morgan asked.

“I’m going to change into sweatpants. You guys are going to close your eyes while I change.”

He left the stack of books on his bedside table, lifted both of them onto the bed, and covered them
up with the fleece blanket that had somehow always migrated from Tony’s side of the bed to his,
despite it being a gift from his mom to Tony. “Blanket smells like Daddy,” Pete said, nuzzling it.

“It is Daddy’s. He lets me borrow it.”

“You get cold?”

“I like that it smells like his cologne.” He located his sweats. “Close those eyes. Especially you,
miss.” Morgan giggled. “No peeking.”

He scrambled into the sweats, tucked them more securely in, and propped himself against the
headboard of his bed. “Alright, I’m picking books at random. No getting upset, right, babies?”
They nodded. “Good. Okay, we have Henry and Mudge…”

This would be the last snowstorm of the season. At least he hoped it would be.
 Chapter 98

Steve was surprised when Morgan was the first one to fall asleep, her arms wrapped around Peter’s
middle. The little boy blinked up at him. “Still going to read?” he queried.

“Until you’re ready to nap,” he agreed, brushing his fingers against Pete’s cheek. “Or- we can talk.
Very quietly so we don’t wake Mo. What do you want?”

Pete thought about it, his brow furrowed. He looked just like his father when he did that. Steve
waited patiently. “Talk and you read an extra book at bedtime?”

He laughed softly. Pete was getting smarter every day. “Deal.”

“You have to get under the blankie too.” Steve nodded. At least Pete’s demands were reasonable.
He couldn’t always say that about the other members of the Stark family.

Getting up, he crawled under the covers, scooting over so that he could wrap an arm over both of
the kids. Pete was sandwiched between him and Morgan. Impulsively, he pressed a kiss to the
toddler’s forehead, making him giggle. “I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you,” Pete agreed reasonably. “Like Daddy.”

“You like me like you love Daddy?” Pete nodded, dragging Steve’s hand over so that it was
resting on his chest. “Well, then I’m very lucky. I happen to know you love Daddy more than the
whole world. He told me you said that. I think he was very proud of it.”

“Daddy’s proud of me?” Pete was starting to slur his words a little, but he was fighting sleep. Steve
nodded. He kissed the corner of Pete’s eye. It always made the five year old sleepy. He heard his
phone ping behind him but he ignored it for now. “Do you love Daddy too?”

“Yes. I love Daddy. He gives me butterflies in my stomach.”

Peter hummed. “In a good way?” Steve nodded. Pete smiled at him. His fingers, so small, played
over Steve’s much larger hand. “Daddy might marry you. If you wanted. I asked him.”

Steve lifted his head. He wanted desperately to know more- the context of what Tony had said, the
circumstances, the exact wording- but Pete was five and Pete looked sleepy. Still, talking about it
with their child seemed far more real than Tony’s teasing had. “What do you know about being
married?” he asked, curious.

“Daddy says it’s a way for adults who weren’t family before to become family forever.”

“That’s right.”

“But Daddy says you can be family even if you aren’t married. Like you and Natasha. If you love
someone a lot, it just happens.”

That made him smile. “And would it be okay with you if I married Daddy some day? If he asks me
to?”

“Yeah. Will that be different from now?”

“Then I wouldn’t be your nanny anymore,” he said, his heart beating fast. “I’d be your parent. Like
a daddy.”
Pete considered this. “Daddy says you’re both the same anyways.” He hummed. “Like if you say
no, then the answer’s no.” He yawned. “And that you’ll keep us safe. He says we’re always going
to live with you. I like that.”

“Mm, well if he asks, can you pass along a message for me?” he asked, knowing Pete would love
to deliver secrets.

Pete nodded, a slow smile building on his face. “Tell your Daddy,” Steve said, his mouth dry, “tell
him I would absolutely marry him. But only if he asks, right? It’s your mission. Should you choose
to accept it.”

“My mission…”

“Okay, you’re definitely not long for this world. Give me a kiss,” he ordered, offering his cheek.
Pete kissed him obediently. Steve shifted back down, his fingers caressing Pete’s shoulder, then
Morgan’s hair. He began to hum a James Taylor song. Pete’s eyes closed, his breathing evening
out. “Sweet dreams and flying machines in pieces on the ground,” he whispered more to himself
than anyone else.

Steve lay for a long time beside them, watching them sleep.

It was when he began to feel like he was falling asleep himself that he forced himself to get up.
He’d gotten a text, he reminded himself. Rolling carefully out of bed, he snatched up his phone.
There was a text from twenty minutes ago, from Tony. ‘I know I made you anxious. Give me a call
when you have a chance?’

He glanced at the bed. The kids were conked out and should be for an hour, if their usual pattern
played through today. He stepped into the hall, settling down on the steps. He texted Tony back,
‘Now, okay?’

Moments later, his phone rang. “Hey,” he said, connecting the call at once. “Everything okay?”

“Hey yourself,” Tony said distractedly. “Sorry for all the cryptic texts today.”

“What’s going on, Tony? I spoke with Nat,” he said, before the brunette could answer. “She told
me a little about what was happening in the Middle East. Is that the problem? Or is there
something else?”

“Ah. No, that’s the big focus right now.”

“Are they blaming you?”

“Fox news is hinting at a conspiracy theory, but you can’t go by what they say, you know they’re
idiots-” Steve knew that, yeah- “The army’s doing an investigation. I’m coordinating with
Rhodey.”

“So you won’t be home for a while,” Steve surmised.

“Not for a little bit yet,” he agreed, sounding distracted. “Sorry, baby. I don’t like being away from
you guys. I know it’s hard to explain to the kids.”

“I’ll make it work,” he promised. “Is there anything I can do to help you?”

Tony half laughed at this. “Promise when I get home that I’ll get all your love and kisses,” he
proposed. “I wouldn’t say no to some of our sparring, either, if you’re up for it. I have energy to
spare.”

Steve looked backwards at the door to their bedroom. Still closed. “When you say sparring, do you
mean actual sparring in the gym downstairs or more of our bedroom stuff?” he asked.

The mechanic actually laughed at that, sounding 100% in the conversation for the first time since
he’d called. “I meant the gym, personally, but a little of both might be in order. Work up a sweat
and then-”

“Well if there’s going to be time for all of that, you’d better get to work,” Steve said, cutting across
his innuendo. The mechanic huffed. Steve bit back a smile, lining himself up against the wall and
bouncing impatiently on his heels. He waited for Tony’s rejoinder.

“Oh, I’ll make time,” Tony promised, sounding marginally more cheerful than he had before.
They’d both calmed down, Steve realized. “My darling captain, I just adore you.”

“You’re ridiculous. I love you more.” He ended the call.

Trailing back into his bedroom, he checked on the kids. They really only should be down an hour
or so; he and Tony were trying to wean them off afternoon naps. Still… He kissed their foreheads,
thinking about his conversation with Tony and with Pete before him.

He made his way down to the kitchen, where the Jarvises were beginning dinner. “No Tony until
late tonight,” he said.

Jarvis looked up, his eyes thoughtful. “Is Tony alright? He texted that you would explain the
situation since he couldn’t.”

“Putting out some Stark Industries fires,” he reassured him. “Frustrated but overall fine. I was
worried too.”

“Help us with dinner,” Ana suggested, cupping his face. “Busy hands help a busy mind.”

“I can do that,” he agreed. “Tell me what you need.”

 Chapter 99

Steve was in danger of falling asleep by the time Tony came home.

“Kids in bed?”

“It’s midnight. Of course, they’re in bed.” He leaned back to accept a kiss from Tony.

“You could have gone to bed too. You didn’t have to wait up for me.”

“Of course I was going to wait up for you,” he said, wrinkling his nose and shaking his head at the
other man. Tony pet his hair. “Spar with me?” he asked, his voice low.

And Steve, who had a million questions about what had happened that day, where Tony had been,
he swallowed those questions and nodded instead. “Come on,” he said, getting up off the couch.

He led the way down the hall to the attached gym, taking Tony’s hand. “You going to spar in that
suit?” he asked.

Tony was already stripping out of the suit. “I have some sweats in the gym. Unless you’d like me
in my skivvies?” he teased.

“That would certainly encourage me to take it easy on you,” he said, shaking his head. “No-”

“I don’t want you taking it easy on me,” Tony said, kicking his dress shoes off with a flourish.
Steve watched him climb into a pair of sweatpants rather shamelessly while he bound his hands.
He held the barrier down for Tony to climb through and followed up after him. “Tell me what’s
been happening,” he ordered softly.

And afterwards, when they’d escaped up to their bedroom-

“Steve, I think maybe I should go there.”

“Where?” Steve asked, his heart beginning to thud.

“You know.” Tony grimaced, making a vague gesture that did nothing to alleviate Steve’s
increasing anxiety. “The Middle East. See what my weapons are doing-”

“Tony, no,” Steve said sharply, and that got Tony’s attention. Steve was cognizant of the fact that
he rarely said no to the mechanic, perhaps hadn’t before. Tony was so generally in tune with him, it
had never come up as a need. He felt his heart rate spike- what if-

“No,” Tony repeated gently, kissing his knuckles and helping to ground him. “You don’t want me
to?”

“You could get hurt,” he said, and god, it was getting difficult to breathe. “Have you ever been to a
war zone? I have. I don’t- I don’t- You-” He was choking, but on nothing. He knew he was stupid-

Tony was getting up, pushing himself upright. “Hey- Captain. Steve- look at me- Look at me,
baby-”

Steve was determined to push through whatever this was. “I know I shouldn’t tell you what to do,
but I- I don’t want- don’t want-”
“Steve, take a deep breath in-”

“You’re not listening,” he gasped. “You could get hurt-” He leaned over. Why did his chest hurt?
Was he having a heart attack? “Tony?” he asked. “What’s happening-?”

“You’re having a panic attack,” Tony said, and oh- that could be it- unless- “Look at me, Steve.”
Tony grabbed his jaw, pushing his face up and if anyone else had done that, Steve might have
taken a swing at them, but it was Tony, Tony was the same as Natasha and Bucky, Tony-

This time he was able to look up, meeting Tony’s brown, worried eyes. “Forget about the Middle
East,” Tony said. “I’m taking that off the table. Follow my breathing-”

Steve shouldn’t have told Tony what to do. Tony knew his business. Steve didn’t have the
authority- Tony’s fingers squeezed his face gently, bringing Steve back up from wherever his head
had been. He took a deep gasp in and some of the whiteness around the corners of his vision
cleared.

“There you go,” Tony said. “Good, Steve. Take another breath in. Hold it. I’ve got you.”

“Sorry,” he said at last, when his breathing was finally back under control. He was aware of a
feeling of deep rooted shame, felt an apology on the tip of his tongue, but Tony was kissing him,
whispering, “Don’t apologize to me. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry,” he asked, leaning his head forward so they wouldn’t have to look each other
in the eye.

“Going to Afghanistan would be impulsive. I just feel like I need to do something. But you’re
right- I wasn’t thinking.”

“I’ve been there,” he said now, cause he felt the bands loosening around his chest. “They used to
blow up caravans. You never knew- couldn’t stop- and they’d put, they’d put kids on the road-”
‘To try to make you stop,’ his mind supplied, finishing the thought he couldn’t say aloud.

It was too much. Bolting off the bed, he scrambled into the bathroom, Tony somewhere behind
him. Kneeling in front of the toilet, he puked up the remains of his dinner and yeah- this was
definitely not one of their better dates-

“Hey, hey…” Tony was there, rubbing his back. “You’re okay. I brought something back. I’m so
sorry, Steve.”

“It’s okay, I just forgot-” He coughed and bile rose in his throat. “Don’t look-” He spit out a thin
white foam, his stomach muscles cramping. “Really gross. Sorry. Sorry.”

“I have kids, I’ve seen worse.” Tony got up, wetting a facecloth. He used this to clean Steve’s face.

They sat in a silence on the bathroom floor, Steve counting his inhales and exhales until it got to
the point where it didn’t matter to him anymore.

Tony spoke into the semi-darkness. “I just don’t like sending other people over in my place. I
never even used to think about them before, told myself that it was their job- but now?” Steve
looked up at him. “I think about how those men could have been you. Or Bucky or Sam. Or
Rhodey… And some of them got hurt because of my weapons.”

“You’re getting rid of those weapons,” Steve said, his voice low. “And it is their job. Just like it
was mine. Nobody wants to get hurt. But we know the risks. Hurting someone else always feels
worse.”

“Let’s get you off the floor,” Tony said at last. Steve was surprised when the mechanic was able to
lift him entirely up off of his knees, pulling him into a standing position.

“You’re stronger than you look,” he said stupidly.

Tony half grinned at that. “I’d almost have to be. I had that underfed nerd look for the first half of
my life.”

“I’m gonna-” He gestured towards his toothbrush.

“Sure, Captain. I’ll be waiting for you.”

He washed out his mouth, feeling his stomach twist not with nausea now so much as shame. He
hadn’t expected this reaction, hadn’t wanted it. He splashed water on his face, hoping to take away
some of that panicky expression in his features.

Coming back into the room, he found Tony sitting crisscrossed on the bed. “Sorry,” he said again,
because he couldn’t stop himself. “I don’t like telling you what to do.”

“You’re not.”

“My last partner said I could be manipulative- At the end-”

“Steve.” Tony waited for him to look at him. “You’re not manipulative,” he said decisively.
“You’re allowed to be upset about things. And say no. Tell me you understand that.”

He ran his tongue over his teeth. “I do,” he agreed, his voice low. “Just-”

“No, justs.” Tony tugged on him, pulling him close. “We need to be able to talk things over.”

“We do.” But he could feel his heart still pounding in his chest, despite everything.

Tony must have guessed. He wrapped his arms around Steve’s middle. “I would never go
anywhere without talking to you about it first,” he promised.

“Good. I can’t be a single parent,” he said, and he’d meant it to be a joke, but his anxiety had bled
through, and it had actually come out quite serious. “If not for me, stay out of trouble for the
babies,” he said.

“I promise it’s for you and the babies.” Tony kissed his hand. “Go to sleep. Today’s been really
tiring. Things will be better tomorrow. And later this week- right? We have the party coming up.”
 Chapter 100
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

True to his word, Tony had sent some of his best investigators over to the site of the missile tests
and had stayed behind, never staying at the Tower late after that first day, and though Steve had
been troubled the past couple of nights by some vivid dream recollections, none of that mattered
today because-

“Steve! Daddy! Wake up! Come on-”

Someone had crawled on Steve’s chest. He shifted, raising his head from where he’d been tucked
into the crook of Tony’s neck. “Peter?” he murmured. “That you, bubba?”

“Yeah! Get up! It’s my birthday-”

“Ohhh,” he groaned, rolling back into Tony’s arms and taking Pete consequently for a ride as well.
The little brunette tumbled in between them, giggling. Wedging himself in between the two men,
he gave Tony a shake. Steve watched this all happen, uncomprehending. He made a valiant effort
to go back to sleep.

Tony was having no such luck on his end. Pete had taken to shaking his head violently. “Daddy!
Daddy! Open your eyes.”

Steve closed his own, relishing the semi-darkness. He could hear Tony groaning next to him; his
arm twitched. Parts of their conversation were making their way over to Steve at a very slow rate.
Suddenly, it all came through. He bolted upright-

“Oh my god, no,” Steve complained, picking Peter up and cradling him in his arms. “You can’t be
six.”

Peter was giggling. “I am! I’m six!” He held up both hands to show Steve. The fact that he needed
both hands hurt Steve’s heart. He might as well have told Steve that he was off to the war.

“Tony, did you know this,” he demanded theatrically.

The mechanic leaned closer, looking sympathetic at least to Steve. “Six but still very much our
baby,” he told Peter, kissing his forehead. “Right?”

“Yeah!” Pete agreed. He turned his face for a cheek kiss and reached for Steve’s face. “I’m still
baby,” he promised.

The captain nodded, his throat tight. For all of his theatrics, today really was already making him
emotional. Pete wasn’t a toddler anymore. They’d be starting him in real school in the fall. And
Steve had missed all of his babyhood. “Always my baby, pal. Listen to me- no more birthdays after
this, okay?”

Pete was beaming at him. He studied his face. “No more,” he agreed, but there was that look in his
eyes that said he knew he was going to continue to grow and he knew Steve knew that too. And
that look wouldn’t have been on his face seven months ago. “Sad?”

Steve shook his head. “I just love you a lot,” he said thickly. “I’m excited to see you grow this
year.”

And Pete seemed to find that explanation satisfactory cause he headed out the door, presumably
going to get dressed.

Steve found reasons as the day went on to hold the birthday boy. Lucky for him, Peter liked to be
held- He shifted Peter so that he was sitting on his hip. He was starting to get big, tall. Steve was
going to have to continue working out if he wanted to keep holding him like this over the next
decade.

“Daddy loves you too,” Tony told Pete, leaning close to them. “I can’t believe you’re six either, for
what it’s worth. Seems like just yesterday I was holding you for the first time.”

Pete was listening but he didn’t seem to have anything to say to their grousing. Reaching for
Tony’s face, he gave him a clumsy pat on the face. Tony was grinning, his smile lines digging
deep into the corners of his eyes. “Want to go say hi to everyone else?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“Okay, baby bear,” Steve said. He let Pete down to the ground. Pete gave him a tight squeeze
around his midsection and was off.

He nudged the captain’s shoulders. “Hey. Pete adores you. He’s going to continue to be your
cuddlebug. Eat too much french toast. Want to sleep in between us. I freaked out last year when he
turned five. I’ve felt the way you do.”

“How do you do it, Tony?”

Tony’s smile was soft and comforting. “Lucky me, I don’t have to do it alone anymore. You’ve
filled the past year with so much love, Captain. If I start to get sad about them getting older- and
consequently me too- I think about how much I’m looking forward to our next year together. And I
know it will be good.”

Steve nodded slowly. He let Tony hold his hand, surveying the room. “You gave your wife no time
to rest,” he admonished, counting mentally when she’d have had to become pregnant to have had
Morgan so soon after Peter.

Tony huffed a laugh. “Morgan, as her personality might suggest, was not according to any kind of
plan,” he whispered in Steve’s ear. Steve laughed silently, his shoulders shaking.

The party went well. There were way too many kids in the house, dashing around, but Peter was
having a blast. Morgan and MJ had to be dissuaded from overtaking the kitchen- Jarvis was good
but he only had so much patience. Pete blew out the candles on his cake with minimal spitting and
Steve held Morgan in his lap while Pete opened the presents, but she put up surprisingly little fuss.

He was exhausted by the time the party was over.

“You have a good day, birthday boy?” Steve asked, steering Pete into his room that night.

“So good,” he agreed, sounding absolutely exhausted himself. “Steve. No training pants tonight.
I’m big now.”

“You are big,” Steve agreed, putting the underwear back. “Why don’t you go potty then? I’ll wait
for you here.”
 “Okay!”

He sat on the edge of Pete’s bed, his hands folded in his lap. There was a tap on the door and then
Tony came in. “Going potty?” he asked, taking his spot next to Steve. “He’s a big boy,” he agreed,
smiling at him. He sighed. It’s not that he’d miss the accidents or changing the sheets in the middle
of the night so much. It was the desire to be old that made his heart ache.

Tony nodded. “You make it?” he asked, when Pete came out, pulling up his undies.

“Uh huh.” Peter threw his arms around Tony and the mechanic hugged him, swaying a little.

“What’d you wish for when you blew out the candles today, huh?” Tony queried suddenly. Steve
almost said something about how his wish wouldn’t come true if he told them, but there was a
determined look on the mechanic’s face, and so Steve was quiet, waiting to see what Pete would
say.

Pete looked up, smiling. So much confidence in his features. “I wished Steve was my daddy too.”

Tony nodded. “It’s a good wish,” he told Pete, hoisting him up into his lap.

Steve swallowed around the lump in his throat. “You really want that?” Pete nodded. “Okay. I’ll
work on making that happen.”

Pete just nodded, seemingly unconcerned. Like he knew it would happen already. He didn’t even
know that they’d been talking about it. “I’m sleepy, Daddy.”

“I know. Steve’s got your pjs. Let’s get you in them.”

Pete was softly compliant, visibly beginning to nod off as they got him out of his shirt- his pants
had been discarded somewhere in the bathroom, Steve was sure- Steve threaded loose limbs into
the top and bottoms and Tony had to stand up so they could pull these on the rest of the way.

“Want to bring him into our bed for tonight?” Tony asked.

“Yes,” Steve croaked. “He’ll like that.”

“You carry him, then, Papa.” Tony handed him over. At the door, he flicked off the light.

Steve stole across the hall, cradling Pete close to his body. Peter murmured into his neck, his grip
squeezing but gentle. Steve bent over Morgan, giving her a kiss on the forehead. Tony was leaning
on the door jamb. He nodded, and they made their way down the hall.

‘Six,’ he reminded himself. He’d never had a six year old before. He rubbed Pete’s thigh, looking
into his barely open brown eyes. “You’re coming with us, mister,” he said.

Pete grinned. “Kay…”

Chapter End Notes

And we made it to 100! Not bad for a oneshot!

 Chapter 101

Steve settled Pete on his side of the bed towards the middle, moving his pillows over so that Pete
had most of them.

“I’m going to brush my teeth. That cake was just pure sugar,” Tony announced to no one in
particular, heading for the bathroom. “You should too.”

“I will.” He was watching Pete’s head bob. “Almost there, pal,” he said, palming the six year old’s
face. “Close those eyes.”

“I’ll wait for you,” Pete slurred.

“No… Daddy and I will be with you soon enough. There’s no reason to wait.”

Pete shrugged, curling into Steve’s pillow with a sigh. He pulled the blankets up, covering his legs
at least. They’d get him in a better position after they were both settled in. Getting up, he followed
Tony into the bathroom.

“Mm, Tony…” Wrapping his arms around the mechanic’s shoulders, he embraced him from
behind. Tony reached back to palm his face, then leaned forward to spit toothpaste into the sink.
He rinsed his brush off, maintaining his spot under Steve’s embrace the entire time. “I’m sleepy
too.”

“Pete still fighting it?”

“No, I think he’s finally out,” Steve mumbled. He reached for his own toothbrush, edging around
the mechanic. “They had fun today. The kids.”

“You never gave Pete his present,” Tony said, watching Steve’s reflection.

“Ah, yeah, I was too embarrassed to give it to him in front of everyone. Maybe when he wakes
tomorrow.”

“We could wake him up again now- he doesn’t have school tomorrow-”

He laughed, nearly swallowing his toothpaste. “Irresponsible.”

“Oh, we’re being responsible parents now, got it, got it-”

Steve knew that Tony was anxious for Pete to see his last gift, but Steve, on his part, could wait.
He’d waited until after the painting was done to make one final addition and he hoped that Tony
didn’t mind it- He knew realistically that Tony didn’t get mad but-

“Actually… Look who’s still awake,” Tony said, from his place in the doorway.

Steve spit out his toothpaste, rinsing his mouth out. He poked his head out past Tony and looked
into the bedroom. “I thought you were asleep,” he called.

“I was mostly asleep,” Pete hedged. He curled up under the covers from where Steve had propped
him on the pillows, blinking at them. “But then I woke up and you still weren’t back.”

“You were pretending to be asleep, weren’t you?” Tony teased, turning the light out behind Steve
and making his way into the room. “You like it when Steve carries you,” he accused, flopping
down on the bed.

Pete was giggling; he rolled over, petting Tony’s face. “A little. But I am sleepy!”

“It’s okay, I’d have Steve carry me everywhere if I was as small as you,” Tony agreed
confidentially. Steve shook his head, listening to the two of them. He changed slowly out of his
day clothes, opting for the t-shirt he’d stolen from Tony all those months ago and his sweatpants
from Christmas. “Well, since you’re awake, Steve’s got one more present for you, baby,” Tony
said, apparently deciding for him.

Pete perked up. “Another?”

“I was going to give it to you tomorrow since you were so sleepy,” Steve explained. He fished the
package out of its hiding spot, tossing it on the bed and climbing up. “Do you want to open it now
or wait?”

“Now!”

“Then come here. Sit in my lap.”

Tony tugged it out of the way as Pete bear crawled across the bed and into Steve’s lap. Scooching
closer, Tony put the present in his hands. He caught Steve’s gaze. “Why not with the other
presents, Steve?” Pete asked, looking up at him and blinking owlishly.

“Well, this one’s very personal,” Steve said faintly.

“Means that it’s just for you,” Tony explained. “You’ll like it. Promise.”

“What is it?” Peter asked, turning it over in his hands. It was almost as large as his body. Steve
briefly wondered if he’d made a mistake- maybe Peter wouldn’t want this, but- too late- “Open it
up and see,” he urged. He tore a corner open in the paper.

Pete snagged it, tearing a strip away from the back. “Is it a painting?” he asked, looking at the
exposed canvas.

Steve felt nervous. “Maybe…”

“It is!” Pete said, perking up as he pulled more of the paper off. He flipped it over. “It’s your
superhero costumes,” he hollered.

Tony motioned for him not to yell, laughing at him. Pete slid out of Steve’s lap, crawling closer to
where Tony was. “Look Daddy- Steve did your super suit from the comics.”

“He did.” Tony neglected to mention that he’d been building a true to life version of the ‘Iron Man’
armor Pete had designed in Steve’s Christmas present and Steve had used this to paint a copy of
him and Tony, holding Peter in the middle of them. “It can fly,” Peter said, peering at the painting.
“And you have your shield- it’s so cool-”

Tony had suggested the idea and he’d been right- Peter did love the realistic depiction of his
drawings. They’d worked on it more than they should have, designing a tact suit for Steve,
including the ridiculous flag design in it- ‘you’re Captain America, Cap’- and posing for several
reference photos with Natasha’s help.

Even Morgan had stood in as Pete’s double for the reference photos, although she’d privately
requested a unicorn painting for her birthday.
Pete’s eyes were darting over the canvas. “I have a suit!” he realized suddenly, pointing at himself.

“Because you’re our superhero,” Steve explained. They’d made his suit blue and red, a mixture of
both of them. A spider design because Peter stuck to them. And Steve had remembered how much
he’d liked the spiders, from their day at the museum.

“Can you read what the bottom says?” Tony asked.

“It’s curly,” Peter said, looking at Steve’s cursive script at the bottom of the painting.

“It’s cursive?”

“Yeah. That’s my name,” he added, jabbing his finger at the first word.

“That’s right. Need Steve to read the rest to you?”

Peter nodded, looking up at Steve then. He crawled forward, even though he knew what the words
already said, having painted them on there himself. Steve didn’t dare look at Tony. He stretched
out by Pete’s side. “It says, ‘Peter, both your daddies love you’,” he read, trying to keep the
nervousness out of his voice.

“Like my wish!”

“Like your wish,” he agreed, a lump in his throat. “Do you think- Would it be okay if I was your
daddy too? Someday?”

“Yeah, that’s what I wanted!”

He took a shaky breath in.

“Then let’s talk about it more some time,” he said. “When Morgan’s with us. Okay?” Pete nodded.
Crawling around, he climbed on Steve, hugging him tight. Steve closed his eyes, feeling the last
ounces of anxiety dissipate. “Happy birthday, pumpkin.”

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