#very rare occurrence hes maybe done this 3-4 times (that ive seen)

[king-the-pathetic]

He is yet again failing miserably at flirting.

She is not even remotely interested

Poor guy destined for rejection

[txnysheart]

let’s get on with living (while we can) [7]

chapter 7: i intend to hold you for the longest time

word count: 6815

warnings: chemo, chemo side effects, homophobia

summary: the press start speculating about steve and tony’s absence from the public, peter goes through his second round of chemo, and there’s a press conference

read on ao3: x

playlist: x

chapter 1 - chapter 2 - chapter 3 - chapter 4 - chapter 5 - chapter 6 - chapter 7 - chapter 8 - chapter 9

series masterlist | masterlist

━━━━━━━━

ARE THE SUPERHERO HUSBANDS RETIRING? - Originally Posted on 29 Oct 2017, at 19:57

Sierra Nelson BuzzFeed Staff - Tony and Steve Stark-Rogers not making any public appearances for the past three and a half weeks has, understandably, started a flow of rumors. Avid fans have theorized everything from holidays to assassinations. However, the most popular theory is that this is the end of their careers as superheroes and the beginning of a comfortable retirement.

Tony is over halfway through his forties - I know, we can’t believe it either - and Steve will be an entire century old next year. The superhero business is a very dangerous and taxing one, so it would be understandable that they’d want to quit now, after all these years of risking their lives to keep civilians safe.

As much as they’ve earned a it, saving the world and whatnot, there are a few things that just don’t add up with the retirement theory.

First of all, they haven’t made any public statements about it. They were not part of the fight that took place right outside New York City two days ago. Only Natasha Romanoff, Bucky Barnes, James Rhodes and Sam Wilson were present. People were, and still are, expecting an explanation as to why neither Tony or Steve Stark-Rogers were on the scene, but so far; nothing.

Another point that has been made is that their teenage son, Peter Stark-Rogers, has also been absent from the public for just as long as his parents. While not much is known about the boy, we all know seeing him out with his dads, or other Avengers, is a common occurrence, as well as seeing him outside the tower as he heads to and returns from school. This has led some to believe that they could have moved to a more remote city no one has figured out where is yet, since Peter would obviously have to attend school somewhere.

Something many have suggested is that this is nothing more than a successful attempt at a secret vacation. After the incident two years ago where the paparazzi figured out the address of their holiday home in Malibu, it would make perfect sense for them to do their best to keep their travel plans private. No one will ever forget the iconic video of the couple telling the paparazzi off rather aggressively. Rightfully so, as they had snuck into the backyard, spooking their then 14-year old son who had been out there by himself.

So, the questions are many. Have we seen the last of Iron Man and Captain America in action? Are they on vacation? Are they just keeping a low profile? Or is something else going on?

Peter had just been scrolling on his phone, but handed it over to Tony when he saw the article. Tony held the phone in his left hand - he’d finally gotten the cast off the previous day.

“What’s wrong?” Natasha asked suspiciously as she eyed Tony’s skeptical expression.

“Press is speculating about why Steve and I haven’t been seen in public for a while,” he sighed, handing the phone over to Steve.

“What’s it say?” Sam asked, leaning forward. Everyone else was listening now too.

Bucky, Natasha, Sam, Pepper, Rhodey and Happy were all spending the day with Peter, Tony and Steve, seeing as the second round of chemo would begin the next day. They often popped in for short visits, but Steve had invited everyone over for dinner to take Peter’s mind off of things. By things, he really meant chemo.

“Just theories about why no one’s seen us. Looks like it’s tied between retirement and secret vacation,” Tony told them.

“Secret vacation would make sense, though. I mean, after what happened in Malibu,” Rhodey commented.

“A repeat of that, and I might actually kill the paparazzi this time,” Tony muttered, not forgetting how much they’d scared Peter anytime soon.

“That makes two of us,” Steve agreed with raised eyebrows and slightly tense body language.

“Yeah, that was… not fun,” the boy agreed, a tad bit uncomfortable thinking back to the event, and adjusted his beanie. He was rarely seen without it now.

“Quite the understatement, kid,” Steve commented when he gave him his phone back.

“Can I see that, Peter?” Pepper asked, already planning out an approach to this in her head. “Thanks,” she smiled when he gave her the phone. Reading over the article swiftly, she soon handed it back, and straightened up, suddenly looking very professional.

“Alright, what we need to do is to make some sort of public announcement, or they’ll just keep on speculating. I’m thinking a small press conference where I choose who get to be there so we know that whoever’s there are serious reporters. No tabloids, no people who’ve written or spoken negatively about you before, etcetera,” she suggested, but knew everyone would agree.

“You’re the expert when it comes to this. Sounds very good, Pep,” Tony approved.

“But what do we tell them? How specific are we?” Steve asked to clarify.

“We don’t lie, but they don’t need all the details,” she continued, and then made eye contact with Peter. “And you’re old enough to be part of deciding how much you want the press knowing. If you want them to know what’s going on with you, that’s okay, but we could also just tell them that there’s a personal emergency. They don’t need to know everything right now.”

“Yeah… Yeah, that last option sounds good,” Peter decided hesitantly. Pepper knew that they’d eventually have to come clean about what was happening, but didn’t say it out loud.

“Who’s gonna be holding the press conference?” Bucky asked. He was leaning back in the couch, arms crossed. Natasha was sitting next to him, cross legged, one knee resting on his thigh.

“Would you two do it?” Pepper asked Tony and Steve, who both nodded.

“Definitely,” Steve confirmed, then looking down at a tense Peter next to him. “You don’t have to be there,” he assured him.

“Good,” he breathed out, not at all fond of crowds. Especially not ones where he would be the center of attention.

“I’ll arrange it for Tuesday,” Pepper said, looking around the room to see if anyone disagreed. Tony shook his head.

“That would be great, but… chemo’s Monday through Wednesday. We can’t leave Peter.” The boy squirmed at his Dad’s words, feeling like a bother.

“Oh, god. Sorry. I- Sorry, it completely slipped my mind for a second,” Pepper apologized, realizing she’d gone full work mode and forgotten about the actual nature of the situation.

“Thursday could work,” Steve suggested. “If someone could look after Pete while we’re gone.”

“I’m not a baby,” Peter protested lazily.

“No, but you’re not gonna be feeling well,” Tony told him, even though he knew Peter knew.

“Right.” He looked uncomfortable at the thought. He’d rather forget about it for as long as he could.

“We’re watching the press conference together, obviously, so we’ll all be here with him,” Natasha said, as if stating the obvious.

Peter was relieved, but also a bit reluctant to let them see him at his worst. Even if it would only be for an hour or so, it could turn out to be just when he’s puking his insides out. He wasn’t keen on anyone having to be there for that.

“Good. Good, thank you,” Tony smiled. How he’d ended up with such great friends, he’d never understand. Natasha sent him a half smile, a little put off by the way he was acting. The snarky, sarcastic Tony had faded away rapidly the past few weeks, and the change was kind of unnerving. She’d kill for a ‘thank you’ packed into a joke at her expense. There’d never been any doubt that Tony cared about his family and friends more than anything. But he’d always shown it in his own distinct way. Not like this.

“Sure. Anytime.”

────────

“You’ve lost some weight, Peter,” Doctor Anne Reynolds said, her face expressing gentle concern when he stepped off the scale. Before each round of chemotherapy, he had to go through a few standard tests; a scan of his lungs, a physical examination, and a weighing.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Peter said sheepishly.

“It’s alright, I know it’s difficult to eat. What kind of foods have you had?”

“Uhm, it- it hasn’t been very varied,” he chuckled. “I’ve had a lot of smoothies and milkshakes. And pancakes and, uh… soggy corn flakes.”

“You’d be surprised how many people’s go-to food is soggy cereal,” Anne smiled reassuringly, writing down what he told her. “Well, everything is set. I’ll give you more antinausea drugs this time, that sound good?”

“Yeah, that’d be nice.”

After a last minute trip to the toilet, he settled in the same comfortable chair he sat in last time. “I’m sorry, I know you don’t like this part,” Anne apologized when she saw Peter squeezing his eyes shut at the sight of the IV. “You’re lucky you’ve got good veins, so I don’t have to stab you five times to get it right.” That got a slight laugh out of the boy. “There. All done!”

He relaxed his tense body, leaning back in the chair. “Bring on the drugs,” he smirked playfully, trying to hide how nervous he was. The first time he’d been scared because it was all new. He didn’t know what to expect, other than it being not nice. This time he was scared because he knew what it’d be like: very not nice. Maybe even less nice than last time.

With even more antinausea medication than the first time, he became really drowsy, curling up into a ball. Steve and Tony spoke softly to him, and by the time he was switched over to the chemo drugs, he was half asleep. He fell asleep shortly after, and was only really awake to drink water. When awake, he recognized the warm sensation murmuring in his body that Anne had explained was completely normal, and nothing to worry about. It was constant, almost buzzing, and even though he’d describe it as warm, he still felt cold. He was wrapped up in a thick duvet, and was, as always nowadays, wearing his beanie.

It was Steve who woke him up when it was time to move to the bedroom. He blinked tiredly up at him. God, he looked so young. “We’re just gonna move to bed, and then you can go back to sleep,” he explained, putting an arm behind his back to gently push him to sit up properly. “And Dad has pills for you that’s gonna help even more with the nausea later.”

“Mhm,” Peter acknowledged, stretching his legs out; they were pretty stiff after being curled up for hours.

“You good to walk?” Steve asked just to be sure.

“Mhm. Yeah, I’m good,” he yawned as he planted his sock-clad feet on the ground. “Where’s Dad?”

“In the bedroom,” Steve told him with a smile. Peter was adorable when he was tired. Shuffling his feet, he eventually made it there, Tony ready by the bed to tuck him in.

“You just go back to sleep,” Tony whispered, making sure the boy was comfortable, and kissed his forehead. With closed eyes, Peter reached one hand up to pull his beanie off, dropping it next to his pillow before dozing off.

Biting his cheek, Tony held back tears with a slight grimace on his face. It was so obvious - too obvious - now how sick Peter was, and he hated thinking about it so much. He absolutely despised it. Still, he couldn’t stop looking at him. His son. His only son. Probably the only child he’d ever have. And that was more than enough - he didn’t need anyone else. Peter was all he wanted. All he could ever wish for, and so much more.

I won’t ask why, he reminded himself.

“You okay?” Steve asked quietly, observing his husband. Tony shook his head.

“No.”

“Me neither.” Steve tugged at his hand, making him turn around so he could see his face properly. He didn’t like the hazy look in his eyes. “Don’t go,” he pleaded, voice so full of emotion, yet so quiet. His fingers danced over Tony’s cheekbone.

“I won’t. I’m right here.” Even though he was whispering, it was clear that he was sincere. And determined not to dissociate again. Steve was too, and brought him to their bed in the same room. None of them planned on sleeping - Peter could wake up at any given time - but Steve just wanted to hold him. To keep him firmly grounded. Tony let him; letting his husband dominate his senses. They breathed.

Steve hummed a melody Tony only recognized because he’d hummed it to him before. A part of him wanted to ask him what song it was, but he didn’t. If he did, it wouldn’t be special anymore.

The lights were dimmed - dark enough for Peter to sleep undisturbed, but bright enough for his dads to be able to see him. They were both faced towards him, Steve spooning Tony, holding him tightly.

“When he was little, I used to just watch him sleep. I… I didn’t sleep much, so I’d just sit and watch him,” Tony mumbled, eyes never leaving Peter. The way he let his sentence hang in the air told Steve that he wasn’t done talking. He just needed to organize his thoughts. “Always made him look even younger than he is,” he settled on.

“Mhm. Looks like a baby when he sleeps. Even now.” His voice was slightly muffled by Tony’s hair, and he used the opportunity to place a couple of kisses to the back of his husband’s head. Tony reciprocated by bringing Steve’s hand that was resting on his stomach to his lips, leaving feathery kisses on his knuckles, then cradling said hand to his chest.

How much time had passed when a noise from Peter caught their attention, they weren’t sure of, but they were up right away to see if something was wrong. By the time they reached his bedside, he was sitting up.

“Are you gonna be sick?” Steve asked, a hand on his shoulder. The boy’s face scrunched up.

“Not sure. Probably,” he mumbled. His face paled. “Yeah. Definitely.”

Tony grabbed the plastic bucket from right next to the bed, bringing it up to hold under Peter’s chin just in time. As he threw up, tears rolled down his face, and he sobbed whenever he got a break, which in turn had him panicking because he couldn’t catch his breath.

“You gotta breathe, sweetheart,” Steve coaxed when Peter’s throwing up paused for a little while. His breath hitched, making him cough, but he got a good, albeit shaky, deep breath, and it calmed him down a little; stopped his crying. Another deep breath, and then he was heaving into the bucket again, his stomach nearly empty, and then there was only bile coming up. It burned in Peter’s throat.

When nothing was left, Peter was still dry heaving, unable to stop his stomach from spasming, and he was crying again. He absolutely despised that part. It went on for at least a minute, and then he was breathing heavily, feeling exhausted. “I’m done,” he sighed, letting himself be pulled into Steve’s side while Tony went to clean the bucket.

“Honey, will you get him his toothbrush?” Steve called out.

“Sure thing,” Tony confirmed, flushing the contents of the bucket down the toilet.

“How’re you feeling?” Steve asked Peter, voice low and comforting.

“‘m okay. Really tired,” Peter mumbled into his chest, and it was just something about the way that he was slumped against him that made him tighten his grip around the boy and take hold of his legs to carefully hoist him into his lap. “Not a baby,” Peter attempted to protest, but the way he relaxed in his Pops’ arms betrayed his words. His face was pressed into Steve’s shoulder, and Steve was drawing slow circles on his back.

The endearing scene made Tony swoon when he came back into the room with the - now clean - bucket and Peter’s toothbrush.

Not even two minutes later, Peter was tucked back in, having brushed the acidic taste in his mouth away, and he’d swallowed an antinausea pill which he was begging would work.

When he’d dozed off again, the dads were still at his bedside, and Tony lifted his hand up hesitantly. He drew it back, letting it linger in the air. He almost put it back down in his lap, but decided against it, bringing it to Peter’s head.

Ever since they’d shaved his head, Peter hadn’t let anyone touch it, and always wore a beanie in the day. But the way he leaned into the touch even in his sleep, had Tony and Steve smiling. Tony lightly drew figures with his fingers, consumed by the way his son reacted to it; the same way he always had.

The usual feel of his soft curls was gone, and it felt a little strange to caress his son’s bald head, but he still adored it. Anything that’d make Peter feel better, Tony would do, and that was no secret. Steve would too, and was just as captivated at the scene in front of him as his husband.

Quietly scooching his chair closer to Tony’s, he latched onto the arm that wasn’t occupied with Peter, resting his head on Tony’s shoulder.

“Tired, honey?” Tony whispered, turning his head to look down at his husband.

“Doesn’t matter,” he mumbled with a smile, meeting Tony’s eyes for a couple of seconds before looking back down at Peter, content to just sit there watching him. “Love you, Tony,” he whispered.

“Sap,” Tony smirked, but still placed a kiss to the side of his head.

“Sure,” Steve laughed softly, tightening his grip on Tony’s arm a little.

────────

There was a knock on their bedroom door fairly early in the morning. Being the least groggy of the three, Steve got up and opened the door.

“Morning, Doctor. Everything alright?” he smiled politely at Anne who was holding a plastic bag.

“Oh, yeah, all good. I brought something for Peter. Is it okay if I come in for a bit?” she asked cheerily.

“Sure, of course. Pete just woke up.” Steve stepped aside, opening the door wider to let Anne into their room. She always had a smile on her face, and it was contagious.

“Good morning,” Tony greeted her from the chair next to Peter’s bed.

“Hey, Anne,” sounded the boy, giving her a wave. He was sitting up in bed, messing around with his phone.

“Sleep well?” she asked, sitting down in a chair on the other side of the bed. Steve sat down next to Tony.

“Yeah, pretty well. Only woke up a couple times, and fell right back to sleep,” Peter confirmed, pleased with at least feeling rested.

“Threw up?”

“Yeah,” Peter grimaced, “but it’s fine. Less than last time.”

“Well, good. ‘Cause I brought you something.

“Oh?”

“Mhm. You said you hadn’t been eating very varied, right?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, curious as to what she’d brought.

“So, I brought some other foods I think you might like.” The plastic bag she had put down by her feet rustled as she picked it up to put on her lap. “Get that overbed table, would you?” she asked Tony. It was right next to him, against the wall, so he was able to grab it without getting up, wheeling it so it was over Peter’s lap. “Thank you, Tony.” Both men had insisted on being called by their first name, just as Anne had.

First thing she put on the table was a small lidded plastic bowl of fruit salad. “I just brought small samples of everything, ‘cause I’m pretty sure you won’t like even half of it,” she chuckled. “But I think this is a great way to figure out more things you can eat so you don’t grow tired of the same things over and over again.

“Soggy corn flakes is getting a little boring,” Peter admitted.

“Good! Means you’re open to trying some new foods. This fruit salad doesn’t have anything with really strong flavors. Just bananas, pears, watermelon, honeydew and, uh, dragon fruit actually! Looks really exciting, but doesn’t taste much.”

“That sounds good, actually,” the boy smiled, taking the lid off the bowl to taste.

“You don’t have to taste it all now, I’ve got a few more options I’m gonna leave here for you, so no rush,” she explained, receiving a nod from Peter who took an experimental bite of watermelon. All three adults were very pleased when he gave a thumbs up.

“Next up is chicken,” Anne announced, pulling up a rectangle plastic box. “Skinless and boneless, and,” she pulled up another box, “you can have mashed potatoes with it.”

Peter nodded fairly enthusiastically, not even noticing the fact that he’d eaten five entire pieces of fruit. Steve and Tony looked excited at their son eating, and were so very grateful to have a doctor who truly cared about Peter.

“And then the less exciting counterpart to what you’re eating right now.” Another box was placed on the overbed table. “Normal salad. But, you might be surprised, this treatment can change up your tastebuds, so maybe you’ll love it!”

She proceeded to pull up a plain sandwich, applesauce, boiled eggs, scrambled eggs, and even some mints and hard candy. “It can help with nausea,” she explained, sending a sneaky wink in Peter’s direction.

“You’ve got an entire buffet here, kid,” Tony chuckled, looking at all the different foods on the table. “Thank you so much, Anne,” he said sincerely, gratefulness gleaming in his eyes.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” she waved away, getting up from the chair. “I’ll get going, but I’ll see you guys in a few hours. Don’t eat it all at once, Peter,” she joked, and walked to the door. Peter laughed, waving at her before she closed the door behind her.

“You really liked that fruit salad, huh?” Steve asked, surprised, but happy to see that there was only one piece of fruit left. It wasn’t a big portion by any means, but Peter evidently enjoyed it.

“Yeah, guess I did,” Peter agreed, just as surprised as Steve when he realized the piece of dragon fruit he just picked up was the last one. He popped it in his mouth, chewed, and swallowed before speaking again. “Don’t think I wanna try anything more right now, though. Can we put it away for later?”

“Sure, I’ll go put it in the fridge,” Tony said, stacking up the boxes so they’d be easy to carry.

While Tony was out of the room, Steve noticed the way Peter kept wringing his hands together quite harshly. “You okay, Petey?” he asked, and Peter looked confused when he met his eyes.

“What?” Steve gestured to his hands. “Oh, my hands just hurt a little.”

“Want me to massage them?”

“Could you?” Peter almost sounded desperate, and Steve furrowed his brows.

“Of course,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. And, to him, it was. Peter held out his hands, and Steve took hold of his right one first, kneading it gently. The boy sighed with relief at the feeling, visibly relaxing back into the bed that kept him sitting up. His eyes were closed, and the corner of his lips were curled upwards in a barely-there smile.

Getting back from his trip to the nearby kitchen, Tony looked on from the door for a few seconds, a little lost in how content Peter looked before Steve beckoned him over. “Sit on the other side of him,” he told his husband, and Tony did so. “His hands hurt,” he explained, lifting Peter’s hand up to show Tony he was massaging it.

“Mhm,” Peter confirmed sleepily, and Tony laughed fondly as he reached for his son’s other hand. Both men were happy to keep massaging his hands until they had to get ready for the chemo session of the day.

They’d do anything for him.

────────

Come Wednesday evening, and Peter was back to being absolutely worn out. Him feeling so well at the beginning of the second round on chemo had only been false hope. He’d barely been able to sleep, his bones and muscles had ached, and he’d thrown up a lot. But, he’d become quite fond of fruit, and ate quite a bit of that, to everyone’s relief.

When Tony had gotten the wheelchair from the corner of the bedroom, Peter hadn’t even protested. He just slumped down in it, feeling faint. Tony pushed him about ten feet before Peter shifted uncomfortably. “Wait. Wait, I’m gonna be sick,” he warned, sitting up straighter, and Steve was thankfully able to get the plastic bucket in time. Bags forgotten on the floor, Steve kneeled in front of Peter, while Tony tried soothing him with soft words and comforting touches to the back of his neck.

Leaning back, Peter was out of breath. “Done,” he sighed. “Sorry.”

“I’m about to ban that word, Pete,” Tony smirked, a hand on Peter’s cheek, and was delighted to be rewarded with a laugh. He dried away the tears on Peter’s face, and kissed his forehead.

“That was quick,” Tony commented when Steve was back by his side. He’d gone to rinse the bucket and put it back.

“Met one of the really nice nurses, uh… what’s his name? Tall, with that tattoo.”

“Oh! Uhm, Leonard?”

“That’s it! Yeah, he insisted on taking care of it so I could get back to you guys.”

“Well, that’s very nice of him,” Tony smiled as Steve picked their bags up from the floor. “You know, I could take one of them,” he offered, pushing Peter along, who was half asleep.

“Nonsense. What’s the point of having super strength if I can’t carry all the bags?”

“You’re right. That’s the sole purpose of the serum, obviously.”

“Yeah, you dum-dum.”

“My favorite insult,” Tony snickered. “So clever, babe.”

“You’re the brains. I’m just here for brawn.” Steve was barely containing his laughter, and Tony shook his head as he chuckled.

“So you’re saying you’re the dum-dum?”

“I’ll take it; that’s my own fault for making it too easy.”

“You’re both dum-dums,” Peter mumbled, eliciting surprised laughter from his dads, and earning himself a playful flick to the ear from Tony.

“I suppose we are,” Steve sighed, big smile on his face.

────────

With Tony and Steve having just left for the press conference, Peter was sitting on the couch next to Rhodey, leaning his head on his shoulder. One look at the tired the boy had Rhodey lifting his arm to let Peter rest against his side instead. It was a familiar feeling. Peter had always been a cuddle-bug with the people closest to him, and Rhodey had always been one of those people.

Natasha sat down on the other side of Peter, a bowl full of pieces of fruit in her hand for Peter. He hadn’t had much to eat that day, so Steve and Tony had encouraged them to feed him while they were gone. They even left a list of foods Peter liked, which now consisted of soggy cornflakes, smoothies, milkshakes, pancakes, fruit without too much taste, scrambled eggs, and chicken.

“If you need anything, or if you don’t feel good, you let us know, okay?” Rhodey said, lightly squeezing Peter’s upper arm.

“I’m good for now. But, uh… I should probably have a bucket here in case I need to throw up,” Peter told him, a little embarrassed at the last part, but no one else minded. “There’s one in my room.”

“I’ll go get it,” Bucky offered, getting up from next to Natasha, discreetly caressing her hair as he walked past her. The corners of her mouth lifted at the gesture, and she let her eyes follow him until he was out of the room.

Sam emerged from the kitchen with two smoothies; one for Peter and one for himself. “Here you go, kiddo,” he said, holding one out for Peter, but Rhodey reached out and got it instead. “You better not steal it from him,” Sam teased, and Rhodey put his hands up in a show of innocence when he’d passed it to Peter. He sat down in a lounge chair close to the couch.

When Bucky got back, he put the bucket next to couch, within reach from his place next to Natasha. She mumbled something in Russian that made him smile, and his response had her rolling her eyes fondly.

────────

“And you’re sure you’ve got this?” Pepper asked Tony for the third time.

“Yes, Pep, I’m sure. Don’t worry. Really.”

“Can’t help it. You’ve got quite the history with press conferences,” Pepper smirked, and got a small chuckle from Steve who was adjusting his tie.

“True, but this is about Peter.”

“I know. You two are gonna do great,” she smiled. “I’ll go and introduce you.”

Just as Pepper had said, it was a pretty exclusive press conference, with no more than twenty reporters in the room. Some were with newspapers, while others were with TV channels, so there were a few cameras there ready to capture the event. It was being held in a room in the compound that’d been used for press conferences on several occasions; perfect for it with a stage for everyone to be able to see them.

“Do I look okay?” Steve asked, wanting his husband’s approval before they went on national television.

“Perfect,” he smiled, running one hand down Steve’s chest to straighten his tie. And also just because he could. “Do I?”

“‘Course you do.”

A short kiss was shared before they turned their attention to Pepper, who soon waved them out on stage. “Good luck,” she whispered when she passed them.

They’d planned for Tony to open, so he stood in front of the microphone, leaning his forearms on the podium.

“Thank you, Pepper. Well, as you all know, we’ve been out of the public for a few weeks now. And, no, we haven’t been on holiday. Nor have we been abducted by aliens, or assassinated by the Illuminati,” he joked to set the mood to a light one. “And we’re not retiring either.” When he said that, his breath caught in his throat just a little. He hadn’t given it any thought. The world just might’ve seen the last of Iron Man and Captain America. For them to come back after all this, there’d have to be a miracle.

“But, as of right now, because of a personal emergency, it’s not possible for us to take part in usual Avengers business, or leave the Compound.” Tony took a step to the side to let Steve take over.

“While we’re dealing with this, we can assure you that the safety of the public is in good hands. As you all saw last week, they can manage better than fine without us.” He looked to Tony, wondering if he should say anything more, but he just shrugged. Steve nodded towards the reporters, a silent question of whether they should just open for questions now. Tony approved with his own nod, so Steve addressed them again.

“Any questions?”

A bunch of hands shot up, and Tony picked one out randomly. “You, with the blue and white tie. On the left.”

The man stood up. “Can you tell us who this emergency is about?” he asked.

“Not at the moment, no, just that it’s someone close to us” Steve answered. Short and to the point.

The next reporter was chosen. “How much longer will you be confined to the Compound?”

“We’re not sure. It’ll probably be a good while.”

Another reporter. "Is there a reason you've specifically chosen the Compound?"

"This place has its perks. We also thought it was best to get out of the city."

They kept asking questions, politely attempting to get more information out of them, but with Steve in charge of answering their questions, they got nothing else than the exact amount of information they’d agreed on sharing for now.

In a very out-of-character way - at least to the press - Tony stood to the side in courteous silence. However, one particular question had him taking over the microphone without hesitation.

“There have been rumors that you’ve put your son into the foster care system, is this true?”

“Absolutely not,” he denied firmly, but didn’t want to let him keep the attention, so he looked through the room to pick out the next one, but the same reporter kept talking.

“Wouldn’t that be for the best, though? I mean, with your lifestyles…” he trailed off, gesturing to them, and the room started murmuring.

From the tone of the question, Tony and Steve both had a feeling that he wasn’t talking about them risking their lives on the job, and the smaller man swallowed thickly before speaking into the microphone again. “Because we‘re Avengers?” he still asked, with a disapproving frown and tight jaw, hands clenching down on the podium until his knuckles turned white.

“No, no, it’s just,” he chuckled, but no one else at all were amused, “don’t you think he should get to grow up in a proper family?”

With ice cold eyes, Tony stared at him, doing his best to stay calm. “We are a proper family. I’m not gonna waste my time trying to get through your thick homophobic skull, so just get out.”

“What? Oh, come on-”

“I’m not joking. Leave of your own volition or I’ll have someone remove you.”

He muttered something to himself, a certain slur starting with an ‘f’, as he turned to pack his stuff up, but didn’t take Steve’s enhanced senses into account which were laser-focused on him. The soldier’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief of what he’d just heard that man refer to his husband as.

“Hey!” he called out, away from the microphone, but voice loud enough to carry across the room, catching his attention again. “Don’t you dare call my husband that. Don’t call anyone that,” he warned. "I don't think you understand how offensive that word is." He had a protective hand on Tony’s back who looked slightly confused. Steve cleared his throat, pulling himself together before calmly speaking to the crowd through the microphone. “I think we’ve answered enough questions for today. Thank you all for coming and being so polite. I apologize. Please respect our privacy and don’t speculate any further about our public absence.” He led Tony off the stage to where Pepper was anxiously waiting for them.

“Did he call him… you know-” she began, but refused to say the actual word.

“Yeah,” Steve confirmed, disgust clear in his voice.

“I’m really sorry. This is my fault, I let them send him instead of the person I requested, I’m so sorry-” she rambled, distraught at what had just happened.

“You couldn’t have known,” Tony cut her off, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “The only one here who’s done anything wrong is that nimrod. Not you.”

She sighed, sending them a smile that didn’t really reach her eyes before excusing herself when someone called her over.

Tony held Steve’s hand and looked up at him. “You didn’t have to do that, babe. I didn't even hear it. And I’ve been called worse,” he mumbled, just loud enough for Steve to hear. The look he had in his eyes was one reserved for his husband and no one else.

The words Tony thought would make the situation better only made Steve’s face crumple in disapproval. Not of Tony, but of anyone who’d ever made him feel like that. “That doesn’t make it better. It just makes me feel sure that calling him out was the right thing to do.” He made circles on the back of Tony’s hand with his thumb, lost in his eyes for what seemed like the millionth time. “I’ll always stand up for you.”

“I love you,” Tony whispered, squeezing his hand.

“I love you too.” Steve kissed his forehead.

With them in the room were a few people working, hurrying around, directed by Pepper; none of them really having time to notice the pair’s intimate moment at the edge of the room.

“Let’s get back to Peter,” Steve smiled, pulling Tony by his hand with him to the elevator.

Once the doors closed and they were by themselves, Tony placed his hands on Steve’s chest, and lifted himself up on his toes to whisper into his ear. “That was really hot.” A kiss to his neck and he got back down to his regular height, smirking up at Steve who was sporting an open-mouthed, lopsided smile along with wide, delighted eyes.

He collected himself, walking forward until Tony was trapped between him and the elevator wall. “Yeah?” he asked, voice low and gravelly, pressed up against him; now he was the smug one. Tony might pretend to be offended whenever Steve pointed out how much smaller he was than him, but Steve was very well aware of the fact that Tony actually enjoyed the size difference. A lot.

“Mhm. Now kiss me, we’re only going a few floors up,” a flustered Tony spluttered out, pulling him down before he could say anything more. They fit together as perfectly as ever, and the kissing grew heated within seconds. Hands exploring known territory, soft sounds of approval being swallowed by each other, and then they were startled apart by the ding announcing that they’d reached their floor.

Composing themselves, they felt like teenagers as they walked out of the elevator, heading for their apartment where they knew Peter was waiting along with everyone else. Except Pepper who was still working on getting everything back to normal at the compound after the press conference, and Happy who was doing his job as head of security. Just outside the front door, Steve pulled him in for another kiss, cradling his neck, one arm around his waist. Tony melted into him, and stayed glued to his side even after they pulled away.

Upon opening the door, they could hear everyone talking, and when Peter laughed, it was like nothing else mattered. They just wanted to see him happy.

And he was. His back leaning against Rhodey’s side, the man’s arm resting across his chest, and feet on Natasha’s lap, he was tiredly grinning. Everyone was happy.

Peter noticed that they’d gotten back and his smile got impossibly more radiant.

“Hey, Petey-pie,” Tony laughed softly as he walked over to Peter to place a kiss on the top of his head - well, the beanie.

“Hi, Dad. You guys were great.” He paused as if he suddenly remembered something. “But that guy was such a dick-”

“Oi!”

“-like what does he think this is? The nineteenth century? I’m so tired of people like him spewing bullshit like that. Like what- what does he even get out of it? It's not like-”

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay, Pete,” Steve cut him off, kneeling in front of him, before he could work himself up about it. He always did when someone insulted his dads purely based on the fact that they happened to be not straight. “There’s always gonna be people like him. And that’s okay, because we know that he’s wrong. The only reason I got so mad was because of what he called Dad. You're smart, so I assume you’ve figured out what it was?”

“Yeah,” the boy whispered.

“You gotta pick your battles. And, for me, this was one of the ones worth picking. That word just… It stings a lot more than other words. Okay?”

Peter nodded, feeling a little bummed out thanks to that reporter, but Rhodey was there and he was ready to make it better.

“One thing’s for certain, Pete; you sure do have two badass dads,” Rhodey smiled. He looked up at Tony from where he was still confined to the couch by Peter resting against him. They shared a look, one with decades of friendship contained in it. Just a slight lift of one eyebrow, and Tony knew Rhodey was asking him if he was okay. He answered with a crooked smirk.

Peter ended up being carried to bed by Tony after he’d fallen asleep on Rhodey. Making sure he was comfortable, Tony then pulled his beanie off, having gathered that he liked sleeping without it. Steve looked on from where he was sitting on the end of the bed, hand protectively resting over Peter’s legs.

“We need sleep too, you know,” Steve whispered when it looked like Tony was about to grab Peter’s desk chair to settle down in it for the night. Tony paused.

“Yeah,” he admitted, slouching a little, not caring about keeping up appearances for his husband.

He followed Steve voluntarily to their bedroom, intertwining their hands on the way.

Once tucked into bed, Steve stayed awake, humming songs and stroking Tony’s back to help him fall asleep. It took a while, but Steve didn’t mind. He was just happy when his husband started snoring.

Small victories.