Chapter Text
He wasn’t Tony’s first choice, Steve knew, but he was trying to be a good babysitter nonetheless. He didn’t know why but this latest assignment meant more to him than all their other missions combined. If he was good… maybe Tony would consider making it more of a regular thing… Tony still went out on missions, after all.
Peter… Pete had been a surprise. Seven years old, skinny, with Tony’s chocolate brown eyes, and curls that made Steve want to sketch- he was the sweetest little kid Steve had ever met.
“Can you fly?”
The solemn question broke Steve out of his reverie. He looked to his right and knelt down. Even on his knees, he was too tall to look Pete properly in the eyes. “I can’t fly, but your dad can.”
Pete was examining him, his intelligent little furrowed brow reminding Steve inexplicably of the team’s mechanic. Pete really was his boy. “Can you do things that Daddy can’t?”
He pretended to think long and hard about this. Tony and Steve were very different people, but Cap knew- had known even before Natasha had explained it- that Peter worshiped his father. “I can do some things he can’t do,” he finally agreed.
“Daddy says you’re super strong!”
Somehow, the fact that Tony had been talking to Pete about him made his heart beat irregularly. He’d been so sure that Howard’s son hated him when they’d first met… now he felt like he didn’t know anything for sure. “I’m strong like you’re strong.”
Pete was crowding him, the seven year old so handsy. He put his hands on Steve’s shoulder, squeezing unabashedly, caressing his ear, leaning on Steve. The captain settled his hands on Pete’s hips, his fingers practically spanning the little boy’s back; he held him up. Pete wasn’t even paying attention. “Will you push me on the swings?”
“Of course, bud.”
And just like that, Pete was off and running, skirting around the play structure on the south lawn and pelting towards the swing set. Steve hesitated and then he began to run too, falling behind the little boy and comically puffing his breath, pretending he was having a hard time keeping up, and Pete, Pete shrieked with amusement.
“Oh, wow. I didn’t know you were so fast-”
“I’m the fastest.”
“You really are, Petey.”
He boosted Tony’s son onto the swing- Pete was still so little for his age- and pulling back the swing gently, he let the boy trace a lazy arc in the air. Pete leaned back in the seat, beaming at him. “Higher!”
“How high does Dad let you go?” Steve asked, giving Pete more of a push the next time he swung backwards nevertheless. He tried to remember the time they’d walked down together a couple of weeks back. But Pete hadn’t been on the swings that time, he’d been on the slides with Natasha…
“So high! Because I’m big now!”
Steve privately doubted that. Tony, normally so brash and confident on their missions, was protective to an extreme when it came to his boy. “I’ll push you a little higher and that’s got to be good. Your dad would be mad at me if anything happens to you.”
“I’d be okay,” Peter chirped, but he squealed when Steve gave him another push, catching the small of his back with his hand and propelling him forward- Pete kicked up, pointing his toes, and Steve was sure he was going to slide off the seat and land in a crumpled heap upon the ground- but the brunette just giggled, touched the sky, and came back down.
“Will you come visit again?” Pete asked, twisting on the seat to look at Steve. “More?”
“If your dad allows it.”
“Daddy will let you! I’ll ask him.”
“Have you been having fun today?” Steve left his post behind Pete and leaned on the side of the swing set, watching Pete pump and kick out his legs.
“Yeah!”
“Good.”
“Steve?” Pete asked, when they were walking back up to the Compound. He was collecting leaves and stopped every couple of feet. Steve hummed to indicate he was listening. “Why don’t you live with us?”
“I don’t know,” Steve admitted. “I kind of thought your daddy was joking when he asked. We’ve only known each other a couple of months now. And we didn’t get along when we first met.”
“Uh huh, Daddy told me.”
“He told you?” Steve was surprised. He took the leaves Pete held out for him- apparently he needed his hands free to collect more. “What else did your dad say?”
“Daddy says he was wrong.”
And there it was- something Steve had never expected to hear. He stopped dead in his tracks, but Pete was too caught up hunting for the best leaf on the ground, he didn’t notice Steve had stopped. The captain pushed himself to walk again.
He’d been the one that was wrong, the one that had made assumptions, the one that had been angry. He knew that now. Tony had picked up on his attitude from the start- and Steve had mentioned Howard and now he knew that Tony and Howard had not gotten along, had not been similar- and it had put Tony on the defensive. He’d been wrong.
Had Tony really meant that he could live here with them? He couldn’t deny that he wanted to- he felt so cut off and isolated in his own apartment. Did the others know how much he looked forward to their weekly meals together? Was he that transparent?
Pete wasn’t the right one to ask. He cleared his throat. “What are you going to do with the leaves you’re gathering?”
“I don’t know… but they’re pretty.”
“They are pretty,” he agreed. “Maybe we can keep them in a baggie until you decide what you want to do.”
He pet Peter on the head absently when they got to the common floor. Tony had given him a little tour before he’d left with Natasha but Steve still couldn’t get used to how big it was in here. “Can you help me cook dinner? I don’t know where anything is.”
“I can show you!”
“You’re so helpful, bear.” He saw the kid’s chest inflate with the praise and made a mental note to encourage him more often. Peter had been through so much already… “Where does Dad keep the cutting boards?”
Peter showed him and then, with Steve carefully keeping an eye on him, cut up carrots. Steve had him mash potatoes ten minutes later, holding the sides of the pan down while Pete strained to push his way through what might be too many potatoes, Steve was realizing. But Tony’s son was having fun- Steve gave him the milk and the butter to dump into the pan and Pete stirred with a determination that was almost comical.
“You must be looking forward to Daddy coming home,” Steve said after they were long done and the sun was going down.
Peter nodded rapidly. “But I like being with you.”
“You’re so kind. I like being with you.” And he did, he was realizing. “Come on, big boy. Let’s get you into your jammies.”
Pete was sleepy, his movements progressively more sluggish; Steve picked him up under his armpits and balanced him on one hip. “Will you wake me when Daddy comes home?”
“If it’s not too late,” Steve promised.
And if it continued to feel strange, helping Pete wrestle his way into a pair of pajamas, it also felt oddly familiar, like coming home after a very long day. Steve tucked him in, read two stories, and realized midway through a third that the kid was snoring lightly, his forehead turned and pressing into Steve’s thigh. He brushed one hand against the kid’s cheek and got out of the bed as slowly as he could, watching Pete to see if he’d wake; he didn’t.
Steve gathered up the discarded clothes and dumped them in Pete’s hamper. The seven year old had left the toothpaste uncapped in the bathroom and he screwed it on.
He glanced back once at the threshold of the bedroom. Pete had curled on his side; his thumb was creeping towards his mouth- Tony’s sister had mentioned they were trying to stop this habit with very little success. Steve… Steve fought down a sudden absurd desire to pad his way across the room again and sit by the boy’s side.
‘He’s not yours,’ he reminded himself. “You’re never going to have kids,” he whispered aloud. But… This was the second time Tony had let him babysit. Maybe… maybe they could keep doing this.
‘Maybe,’ some tiny voice said in the back of his head, ‘maybe he’ll let you live here all the time.’
It wasn’t that he thought in any way Peter would become his child. But in the absence of believing he’d ever have the wife and kids he’d always wanted, he felt that Pete filled something of a void. A void he hadn’t known was in him until the first time he’d held Pete’s tiny little hand.
He cleaned up the living room, sorting toys out into their collective bins, and went to bed.
Tony came back around one in the morning. Steve had been half dozing from where he’d sat, his back pressed up against the headboard and the book he’d been reading slipping out of his lax fingers. He startled awake when the door opened and the mechanic held up his hands apologetically. “Friday says Pete’s in here.”
“Yeah. Yeah- he’s right here.”
“Can I come in?”
His lips quirked. “My guestroom is your guestroom.”
And that got a little smile out of the brunette. Steve didn’t understand the ebb and flow of strong feelings he got whenever the other man came into the room. He jerked his head to the other side of the bed. Pete was conked out, legs splayed at odd angles, hands clutching at a battered black cat stuffie.
“Friday said to just come in,” Tony said, by way of explanation. He edged closer.
“Yeah, I asked her to pass that along,” Steve whispered back. “I didn’t want the knocking to wake Peter.”
Tony sat on the side of the bed, looking down at his son. Steve’s heart ached a little, seeing the open display of love on the engineer’s face. Tony clearly loved his son more than anything in the world- and why shouldn’t he?
“Did he have a bad dream or something?”
“He wet the bed. He changed pjs and I changed the bed sheets, but he didn’t think he could fall asleep right away.” Steve held up a stack of picture books. “So we came in here to read. Sorry, I probably should have just stayed out in the living room- it is a little strange to have him in here.”
“Nah, it worked.” Tony traced his fingers down Peter’s face. “I would never leave Peter with you if I didn’t trust you entirely.”
Steve’s heart swelled. “I was going to put him back in his bed when he fell asleep. But then Friday said you were coming back… and he wanted me to wake you when you got back. I said I would if it wasn’t too late.” He glanced at the side table. “I guess it’s kind of too late.”
“I can put him in my bed with me. He’ll like that too.”
Steve didn’t know what to say. He started to say- “How was the mission-”
But at the same time, Tony said, “Did you have fun today?”
They both paused, staring into each other’s eyes. Steve felt awkward and foolish. He was the first to answer. “I love spending time with Peter. He’s the sweetest.”
Tony hummed. “He was looking forward to you coming over.”
“Was he?” Steve’s forehead creased. And then, because he couldn’t help himself, “Did you really mean it when you asked me to live here full time?”
The mechanic ducked his head and Steve’s heart shriveled. “You don’t have to-” Tony began. And that was confusing. “But could I?” the captain pressed, feeling more foolish by the minute.
“Do you want to? You never talked about it again after last time-”
“I thought- but could I?”
“What did you think?”
They were sparring, Steve realized. Tony’s eyes were inscrutable- that wasn’t helpful- but he hadn’t said no, and if he’d learned anything about the mechanic, it was that he tried to keep his heart safe, that he protected himself with bluster. “I didn’t think you actually wanted me to live here with you,” he admitted. “I thought maybe you were still angry.”
“I’ve never been angry with you, Captain.”
“Do you really want me to live here?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Now Tony was the one who looked uncomfortable. He shrugged. “Pete’s always a little sad when you go home after dinner and we don’t see you for a week. And… I’d like to see you more too. More times when we’re not actively fighting for our lives. I like you.”
“I like you,” Steve whispered. “I think if we get past our stubbornness, we could end up being very good friends.”
“That would make Natasha happy,” Tony said, getting up. Steve didn’t know what Tony meant by that, but he let it go. “Come here, mimmo. Daddy’s here.”
“I’ll get the doors,” Steve whispered, and he led the way out, padding down the hall and side stepping the table that everyone seemed to walk into in the dark. He remembered where Tony’s room was at least- that was easy. Next to Pete’s. He pushed the door open and Tony leaned against the frame, glancing back at him.
“See you tomorrow, Captain?”
“Tomorrow, Tony.”
“Good.”
He was going to go, figured Tony was tired and probably wanted to go to bed, but Tony lingered in the doorway and he hesitated too. Tony was rocking Peter, their boy boneless in his arms, and he seemed to be pondering something. “Have you been lonely, Cap?”
He shuffled his feet. “Is it that obvious?”
Tony shook his head. “I think I just figured it out.” He looked up at Steve then, and his eyes were soft and warm in the darkness. “We’re not going to let you be lonely anymore.”
He licked his lips, his mouth suddenly dry. “Promise?”
“Promise.”
There was a lot more that Steve wanted to say, but there was an inexplicable lump in his throat. Reaching out blindly, he gripped Tony’s elbow, squeezing slightly. He stepped closer, his eyes flicking up to Tony’s. “Can I-?” he asked, dipping his head towards Peter and Tony gave a little nod.
He brushed hair away from Peter’s forehead and then pressed his lips there. “Night, bear. Sweet dreams.”
Stepping away, he couldn’t help but grin at Tony, the other man’s lips curling into his own faint smile. He dropped one last ‘Night,’ and fled down the hall, feeling like someone had filled his insides with sunshine.
He really did like babysitting.