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"Hey dad!"
Steve looked up from his battered copy of Pride and Prejudice , already grinning at the sound of his son's voice.
"Hey Pete," he greeted him, getting up from his chair by the fireplace, a little slower than he liked to admit - but Tony wasn't inside so he couldn't make fun of him for it, small mercies - and making his way to Peter and his wife. "Michelle," he took the woman in his arms.
"I yearn for the day you'll call me M.J.," she groaned.
"He won't, at this point, you probably should let go," Peter laughed. "Where do I put all this?"
Only then did Steve see just how packed his son's arms were, with bags of assorted caterers and bakeries apparently.
"Kitchen for now, you know the way," Steve smiled, then looking back to his daughter-in-law, he rushed to help her get out of her coat before she batted him away like a hissing cat.
"I'm pregnant, not dependent,"
"That's right, my bad," Steve raised his hands in surrender, already feeling the usual joy and serenity that seeped into him every time he was around those two. "Two months left, yeah?"
"Yes, Captain Obvious, you know that already, not like we haven't talked every other day for the past forever,"
"Ouch," Steve put a hand on his heart, "I'll go get Tones, you guys get settled okay?"
"Sure thing Pops," Peter called from the kitchen, and then again louder "M.J. I need help,"
Steve laughed again when the woman rolled her eyes harder than ever, but made her way to Peter anyway. Try as he might to deny it, that boy would be lost without her.
Tony looked at the sky, aware that there was movement in the house but burrowing in his chaise lounge either way. He tightened the blanket he'd put on around him and sighed.
"Ten years," he whispered to himself. Then jumped when the words echoed in Steve's voice.
"Yes, ten years baby,"
Tony watched his husband leave the door of the garage and walk to him on the terrace, his steps so smooth and relaxed, and that damn sweater. He looked so good.
"They're here," Steve said softly, "but you knew that already,"
"Yup," Tony pushed his sunglasses into his hair. They weren't quite as useful as they'd been earlier in the afternoon anyway.
"C'mere," Steve made grabby hands at him.
"Come on, Tony, come on, please," Steve could feel the tears that coated his cheeks, thicker and wetter with every breath he exhaled.
"Leave me alone, Steve," Tony's voice was growly and the way he slurred his name --
"Fall backwards, I'll catch you, remember? Do you remember?" Steve tried again, desperate to reach that place inside his husband, that part of his brain that wasn't hurting quite as much, that was able to see past the hurt into what he was doing to himself, to them, to Peter.
"Go away! It wasn't worth it okay? All that you trusted me with? IT WASN'T WORTH IT!"
Steve didn't go away. He didn't even move. He stayed right where he was in the doorway of the kitchen. That kitchen in Tony's floor of the Tower that still had all the newspapers littering the counters and island. Newspapers that once again front-paged accusatory fingers pointing at Tony for all the damage in the world.
Steve didn't budge. He crossed his arms, kept crying silently. He played with his wedding ring as he watched Tony gulp another tumbler of whiskey, every time he swallowed another time Steve forced himself not to flinch.
"Stark men aren't made of iron, and that's okay," Steve whispered, walking into the kitchen for the first time since he'd found Tony.
"You need a hug big guy?" Tony looked into Steve's eyes as he first sat up, then got up from his very comfortable, he should say, set-up of the day. His blanket fell onto the chaise and he let it.
Steve nodded, "I'd like that,"
His voice had that same texture it always had on this day, and today was extra special. A decade was something, and that it should practically coincide with their son welcoming his baby into the world… well, those were a lot of emotions. Too many, if you asked Tony.
"Did they bring cake?" Tony asked once he had his face pressed into Steve's neck.
Steve's answering chuckle made Tony smile a little wider, "Yes, they did…"
"Paul Bakery's?"
"What don't we get in and you'll see for yourself?"
Tony hummed, "Sounds good," and then when Steve tried to pull away, he tightened his arms around his husband's waist, winked at him and whispered, "I remember,"
Steve's eyes widened like they always did, even though they'd said those words hundreds of times over the years. Then he blinked, a little too rapidly, and Tony reminded himself that it wasn't a sign for him to feel guilty, it was a sign that they were celebrating.
"Kiss your husband, old man," Tony murmured again, smirking when it had the desired effect and Steve gave him an exaggerated frown before smashing their lips together indeed, one of his big hands holding onto the back of Tony's head.
They kissed long enough that Tony was gasping by the time they parted, sure that his eyes were sparkling just as much as Steve's were and ready to keep going if it hadn't been for someone clearing their throat behind Steve.
That someone, Tony could have guessed, was M.J., her hands set on her hips and her face set in a fakely stern pout.
"If you're done smooching the life of of each other, I want a hug, too. And the sticky idiot inside would like that as well even if he won't say it,"
"You Gave Me a Home"
The letters were calligraphed atop the icing of the cake, red and blue for their past uniforms and the fond and not so fond memories that came with it. A Michelle thing as well, to celebrate both the bad and the good, for it brought them where they were, and that was worth looking back on it all with thankfulness.
Steve was pretty sure, the more the years passed, that Peter wouldn't be the only one lost without her in their lives.
"It's…"
"From all of you, I know," Tony cut Peter's ritual explanation of the cake, his hand trembling were it grasped their son's shoulder to crush him into a side hug.
"You gave me a home," Steve started, trying not to stutter on the words. Tony's eyes were always so expressive, it was hard not to add to his own overloaded emotions.
"You gave me a home," Peter continued, pressing his forehead to Tony's shoulder right after, hiding his eyes as they surely filled with tears.
"You gave me a home, big sap," Michelle added, gruff as she got when she struggled with her own feelings.
Tony looked at all three of them in turn, staying on Steve as he lowered his face to blow up the candles on his cake.
"You all gave me a home," he concluded, as he'd done the nine previous years.
"To ten years," Steve said as he walked to Tony, closing an arm around him with his hand on Peter's shoulder, his other arm open for Michelle.
"To ten years," they all repeated.