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Steve takes a deep breath as he stands on the familiar stoop. He straightens his lapel and checks his breath before pressing the buzzer labeled “Wilson/Shore.”
“Hello?” Sam’s voice is tiny through the small speaker but it still sets off butterflies in Steve’s stomach.
“It’s me.”
The door buzzes and Steve takes the stairs two at a time. By the time he reaches the third floor, Sam is waiting with the door open and a toddler on his hip.
“Unca Steve!” the baby screeches, practically lunging for him. Sam steadies Taylor before handing him over, grinning at the both of them.
“Hi Taylor!” Steve laughs, pulling him into his arms and blowing a raspberry on his cheek. “How are you, sweetheart?” Sam motions them both into the apartment and shuts the door behind them.
“Good. Mommy’s havin’ my sister!” Taylor exclaims, throwing his arms in the air.
“I heard. I bet you’re excited.” Steve laughs again when Taylor nods enthusiastically.
“Taylor and I have been working on a gift for his new sister all afternoon.” Sam adds. “Do you wanna show it to Uncle Steve, T?”
“Yeah!” Taylor shouts, very close to Steve’s ear, before wiggling in his arms to get down. Steve sets him on the floor and watches him go running into the living room.
“Hey, baby,” Sam smiles, stepping into Steve’s space.
“Well hello.” Steve kisses him lightly and pulls him into a hug. “How’s Sarah?”
Sam hums and leans into him. “Ma said she’s almost fully dilated so they think she’ll have the baby by morning.”
“Good. Will still freaking out?”
“Oh yeah,” Sam snorts. “Here’s hoping he faints again.”
Steve pinches Sam’s side and tries not to laugh. “Don’t be mean.”
Sam wiggles away, much like his nephew. “It’s not my fault he’s squeamish.” He looks Steve up and down and smiles a little sadly. “You look real good, babe. I’m sorry this isn’t what we planned--”
“Don’t you dare,” Steve whispers, kissing him again. Sam slips in a little tongue and Steve nips at his lips before pulling away. “Later.”
There’s a glint in Sam’s eye when he starts to speak but the kitchen timer interrupts him. Sam pulls Steve further into the house calling out for Taylor, who’s gotten distracted by the cartoon playing in the living room. Steve moves for a stool at the island, pausing to catch a running Taylor and get him settled in a chair of his own.
Taylor brandishes a bright piece of construction paper at Steve, a shower of glitter falling onto the counter top. “For my sister!”
Steve takes the drawing with the appropriate oohs and ahs while Sam finishes dinner. “Why don’t we put this somewhere safe so we don’t mess it up while we eat?” Taylor hesitates before nodding reluctantly. Steve puts it up on the refrigerator, right in Taylor’s line of sight. “There! That way we won’t forget it when we go see Mommy tomorrow. How’s that?”
Taylor cheers, clapping his hands. “Mommy and baby and Daddy and Grandma too!”
“That’s right!” Steve encourages him, moving around the kitchen to set the table. He reaches around where Sam is carving a roast to grab dishware and drops a kiss on the side of Sam’s neck. “Smells great,” he mumbles against his skin.
“Yeah? I’m trying something new. Sarah didn’t have any thyme and--”
“I meant you,” Steve grins, bouncing out of the way when Sam goes to swat at him. He turns back to Taylor and pokes his tongue out. “Your Uncle Sam is being silly!”
Taylor giggles. “Nu-uh! You’re silly, Unca Steve!”
Steve gasps. “Am I? I thought I was Serious Uncle Steve!” he says, voice going full Truth, Justice and Freedom. Taylor just laughs more, not falling for the Captain America act for a second. Steve winks at him and finishes setting the table. He pretends not to notice Sam watching them out the corner of his eye and asks what Taylor did that day.
Sam brings the food to the table, letting Steve make their plates while he cuts Taylor’s food into manageable bites. They settle in for dinner to the soundtrack of the ramblings of a two year old and Steve can’t help but think about how right this feels.
After dinner, a bath and three bedtime stories, Taylor is finally asleep, clutching his stuffed falcon toy to his chest. Steve makes sure his night light is on and leaves the door cracked as he tiptoes from the room. He finds Sam drying dishes in the kitchen, staring blankly out the window above the sink. Steve wraps his arms around him from behind, resting his chin on Sam’s shoulder.
“Hi stranger,” Sam meets his eyes in their reflection in the window. “How is he?”
“Knocked out. Any updates?”
“Still no baby, but no complications either,” Sam shrugs.
Steve nods and squeezes him tighter. “So,” he grins. “Wanna neck on the couch?”
Sam barks a laugh. “You read my mind,” he turns in Steve’s arms and presses a hard kiss against his mouth. Steve presses him harder against the counter, gripping his hips and lifting until Sam wraps his legs around his waist. He starts to carry Sam into the living room, when Sam stops him.
“Hold on,” Sam giggles, leaning over to open the fridge. Steve braces Sam’s back, admiring the stretch of his torso, so he doesn’t fall as he pulls out a bottle of champagne and a box of chocolate covered strawberries. He turns back to Steve, wiggling his eyebrows. “I was coming home from the store when Will called.”
Steve laughs, leaning in to kiss Sam’s neck and heft him higher as he continues into the other room. They crash onto the couch, and if it whines a little in the process, they can afford to replace it. Sam settles in Steve’s lap, tossing the top of the strawberry box over his shoulder. Steve twists the cork on the champagne, trying to get it to pop as quietly as possible. When it does they both freeze, listening for a sign that it woke Taylor. When there’s no wails or tiny footsteps, they giggle again.
Sam presses his forehead against Steve’s, “Happy anniversary, Steve.”
Steve wraps his arm around Sam’s waist and pulls him closer. “Happy anniversary, Sam. I love you.”
“I love you too,” Sam kisses him lightly. “Now stop hogging the bubbly!”