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It's late. Far too late for Steve Rogers to be awake, and far too late for him to be hearing noises in his house. He debates continuing to lie in bed, let whoever it is take whatever they please, but there's too many flaws in that plan. Sam would kill him, for one, and he doesn't want to run the risk of someone taking away his pride and joy.
So he gets up (admittedly, after a few minutes) and grabs his shield, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he cautiously makes his way down the hall. He's fully alert by the time he gets to the living room, peeking around the corner and listening for anyone, or anything. The noises start up again, and they're coming from the kitchen, so that's where Steve goes. He waits a few seconds before he flicks on the light, ready to attack, but then he sees a pair of wide, hazel eyes staring up at him from under a mass of curls, and he sighs, partially relieved.
“Oh, God, Amina, what are you doing up this late?” Steve asks his daughter, dropping his shield onto the nearest countertop.
Amina just grins and goes back to rummaging around in the refrigerator. “I needed food. I'm a growing ten year old, Papa, I need to eat.”
“You need to eat at --” Steve pauses, looks at the time on the stove. “-- two thirty in the morning?”
“What can I say? I get restless.” Amina goes up on her tiptoes to grab something from the back of the second shelf and squeals when she pulls it out -- a half eaten cheesecake they'd bought from Wegmans a week ago. “Jackpot.”
“Okay, Amina, no,” Steve says, taking the cheesecake and putting it back in the fridge on the highest shelf. “If you eat that, you'll be up all night and you have school tomorrow. Get back to bed.”
Amina just frowns and pouts, folding her arms across her chest. “But why?”
Steve sighs again. “Because I said so and I'm the boss.”
Amina just stares at him for a few seconds, and then she's laughing. “What? You're not the boss, Papa!”
“I -- Yes I am!” Steve argues, a little indignant.
“No, you're really not. Daddy's the boss,” Amina says, matter-of-factly.
Steve flushes a little because okay, he can't quite argue with that, but he's not entirely without authority. He's still Captain America, even in his own household. “Yeah, well -- me and your father, we're co-bosses. Technically.”
“Yeah, well, technically, Daddy's the boss,” Amina corrects, mocking Steve. He wonders for the briefest moment if that's actually what he sounds like. “And I plan to tell the boss on you if you don't let me have a piece of that cheesecake. I'll tell him you ate the whole entire thing.”
Steve leans against the freezer door, quirking a brow at his daughter. “Is this your attempt at blackmail?”
“Yep,” she says, and Steve laughs a little.
“You should really take some lessons from your Auntie Nat,” he suggests, but he goes back in the fridge to get the cheesecake anyway. “You know, I'm only doing this because I know your father wouldn't believe me if I tried to explain.”
“And because you can't resist me, Papa,” Amina adds.
Steve chuckles. “Yes. Also because I can't resist you.” He reaches down to pinch Amina's cheek before removing the plastic top from the cake. “Now, go and get some plates and forks so we don't have to eat this like savages.”
*
Steve carries Amina back to her room once they finish eating, making a mental note to clean up the dishes before heading back to bed. Amina was well satisfied after two slices of cheesecake, so it wasn't hard to get her to agree to go to sleep.
He sits down on Amina's bed with her in his lap, grabbing a hair tie and a brush off of her bedside table. He takes his time brushing her hair, letting her lean on him as she gets more and more sleepy. When he's sure her hair is detangled enough, he pulls it back into a braid, keeping it from unravelling with the hair tie. Amina hums contentedly, and Steve smiles.
Steve tucks Amina into bed and kisses her forehead, tells her he loves her before leaving her room, going back to the kitchen to clean up the mess they'd made. He gathers the dishes into the sink and gets to washing.
He starts a little when he feels arms wrap around his waist, but easily relaxes into their hold because it's only Sam.
“Hey, baby,” he murmurs, looking over his shoulder to kiss his husband. “What are you doing up?”
“Could ask you the same thing,” Sam replies, nuzzling his face between Steve's shoulder blades.
“Amina was up and begging for cheesecake, so I was forced to deliver,” Steve explains. “She blackmailed me.”
Sam chuckles, “That's my babygirl. She learns from the best.”
Steve rolls his eyes. “Oh, whatever.”
Sam suddenly detaches himself from Steve then, giving his ass a light smack as he walks around to sit at the island. “By the way, since you're up and speaking of cheesecake, why don't you go ahead and cut Daddy a piece, hm?”
Steve just scoffs and rolls his eyes. “You are not the boss of me, Sam.”
“Maybe not, but I'm the boss of this house and the boss wants cheesecake.”
That's where she gets it from, Steve thinks, shaking his head. He washes off the knife he used earlier and puts it on the countertop near Sam, raising a brow at him. “If the boss wants his cheesecake so bad, then he can get it himself, because I'm busy.”
“You are such a little smart ass, you know that?” Sam grumbles, picking up the knife and gesturing it in a stabbing motion towards Steve.
Steve rolls his eyes again, leans over the counter to kiss Sam, carefully avoiding the knife. “Doesn't matter,” he says when they part. “You love it.” He smiles when Sam mumbles something about that being debatable, getting up to retrieve his cheesecake.
“You're feeding this to me, though,” Sam says.
Steve snorts. “Now that's debatable.”
// fin. //