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Tony hasn’t even finished breakfast when a portal opens into the kitchen and Stephen steps through. He looks unsettled, and he’s got one hand on his swollen belly, and Tony is not panicking, thank you very much. “Everything okay?” Tony asks. “You only left, like, ten minutes ago.”
“Wong sent me home,” Stephen says, easing into a chair. “Apparently I’m too close to my due date; he doesn’t want to risk it.”
Tony’s brow wrinkles. “But you’re not due until—” He pauses to count and oh… Okay.
“Next week,” Stephen finishes. He laughs softly and sinks slowly into a chair. “You’d think I’d be counting down the days, but somehow it still seems like something that’s going to happen eventually, not something that could happen almost any day.”
“Any day?” Tony absolutely does not squeak. “I thought you said predicting the,” he waves his hands, “mystical energy current shit and when it would pop your cork was pretty accurate.”
Stephen shoots him a look. “Please never refer to the birth as ‘popping my cork’ ever again. And it is. To within a week. We’ll be inside that range in two days.”
“Right,” Tony says. He takes a slow breath. “Hey, Stephen?”
“Yes?”
“We’re gonna have a baby,” Tony says, the corner of his mouth curling up.
Stephen laughs, leaning back in his chair, both hands cradling his belly. “Yeah. We are.”