HOME | DD

Description
Peter - age 4 months

"Hey champ, what's up?" Tony asked sleepily, looking into the crib. It was 4 am, and he was woken up by a piercing cry of his son. He was dead tired, but somehow managed to roll out of the bed, knowing that it was his turn to take care of Peter, letting Steve sleep a bit longer.

Peter sniffled, clad in cream yellow rompers, looking at his dad with shiny eyes from crying. He reached his small hand in Tony's direction.

"There, there," Tony soothed, taking the little bundle in his arms. "You had.. OHFF.. Ugh, what the heck did Steve feed you.." he wheezed out, the smell rather overwhelming. Peter looked at Tony, whimpering, as if trying to say that it's not his fault. "Nah, it's okay, kid, nothing a clean diaper and some talk wouldn't fix," he grinned, trying to comfort the baby.

He gently got Peter out of his rompers and swiftly took off the dirty diaper - it was a thing he didn't publicly admit to, but he had no problems changing diapers. Of course, there were some protests and freaking out in the beginning, but now it went smoothly and Tony happily noticed that Peter stopped crying during changing diaper time. But the baby still didn't like to get dressed and was constantly trying to take off his clothes - Tony was laughing that Peter was already taking over his preference to walk around Stark naked.

Peter crossed his eyes and babbled happily, when Tony cleaned him and kicked his chubby, short legs. Tony grinned at the adorable sight, calmly changing the diaper for a new one.

"There, all pretty. Who is my little biological weapon factory?" he babbled, leaning down, placing a scratchy kiss on the boy's tummy. Peter squeaked and laughed, wiggling his arms. Tony blinked. He did that again, a bit longer and gently, getting a longer squeak and laugh. The grin on Tony's face almost split his face in half.

"STEVE!!"

Steve jolted on the bed, hearing Tony's scream from the intercom. "WHa.." he gasped, not fully aware what was happening.

"Come to Peter's room!"

Steve snapped his eyes wide open. He only heard Peter and it was enough to send him running to baby's room, stumbling over his own feet, not wasting time to pull on the robe.

When he saw Tony, by the way, wearing Steve's navy night robe, so good that he didn't look for it, bouncing excitedly next to Peter's crib, huge grin on his face, he felt as his heart got back to his chest, instead of being in his throat. "Tony.. the heck.." he rasped out, as Tony reached for him, tugging him closer to the crib.

"Look at this," he chirped, leaning down, taking Peter's small feet and placing many, tiny, scratchy kisses on the soft skin, causing the baby to laugh squeakily and wiggle his arms.

Steve kept watching, soft, sleepy smile blooming on his face. "Aw, he started to react to tickling.." he cooed.

Tony straightened up, kissing Peter's head and covering him with the baby blanket. He looked at Steve with a bright grin, and both proud parents cherished this moment until Steve swatted Tony's head, making his hair stand on the back. Peter squeaked out a laugh at that.

"Ow! What was that for?!" Tony snapped in a hushed voice.

"You made Peter over excited. Now he won't fall back to sleep," he said sternly, pointing out to the baby - Peter's eyes were wide awake and he was sucking on his short fingers and kicking legs, the blanket kicked to the side, obviously wanting to play more.

Tony whined. "Oh fuck.."

"Tony!" Steve snapped, once again swatting his head. "Don't curse in front of Peter!"

Tony grumbled, massaging his scalp. "It's not like he will remember it anyway.."

Steve narrowed his eyes. Maybe Peter was too little to remember stuff, but it wasn't a reason to freely curse around him. "I swear, if his first word will be the f word, I will kick your a-.."

"Ah ah ah! Baby in the room," Tony interrupted, his lips twitching with amusement.

"Tushy," Steve ended, talking directly to Peter. Tony snorted out a laugh, which earned him a glare. "Get Peter back to sleep," he commanded, giving his husband a serious look.

"Okay, okay," Tony grinned, taking the baby from the crib and into his arms. "We will read some books. Peter, you want to hear about the particle collider, which is one of the greatest engineering milestones of mankind?"

Steve laughed knowingly. He was well aware that they were going to read a book about a family of ducks, but he let Tony think that he fooled him. "Goodnight, kids," he said, first kissing Peter's small head and then pecked his husband's lips, going back to bed.

"Night," Tony answered, sitting with Peter in a chair, hand reaching for the book, when he stopped with a frown. "Did he just call me a kid?" he asked the little boy.

Peter just gurgled happily, kicking legs, wanting to get his story faster.

Peter - age 5

"WAAAH!! PAAPAA!"

Steve looked up from the newspaper he was reading. They were in the park, it was a sunny day, and Peter was in the playground with other kids.

"Peter!" Steve got up from the bench, and to his son. Peter was sitting on the ground, crying, a grazed knee peeking from underneath the hem of his dungarees. "Oh, sweetheart.." he said softly, crouching in front of his son, getting Peter up on his feet. "What happened?" he asked, running a loving hand through his son's brown hair.

Peter sobbed and started to explain how he was racing with other kids and suddenly fell over, hurting himself. Steve listened with concern. The wound was no big deal, but he knew that for his son it was huge. In the meantime, one of the moms whose kids were also playing in the park, walked over to Steve.

"Here, Mr. Stark," she said with a gentle smile, giving Steve some peroxide, cotton and a band aid with daisies on them. "My girls get hurt all the time," she explained, motioning with her head to two cute brunettes, obviously twins.

"Thank you," Steve smiled back, taking the bottle and the band aid.

"You will be fine, Peter," she smiled to the little boy, winking at him, and cleaned Peter's face with a tissue - all parents in the playground always tried to help each other. And she remembered that when one of her daughters threw a ball on a tree, Steve was the first volunteer to retrieve the ball, and she immediately became fond of Steve, his husband and their baby. "Captain America will take care of you."

Peter sobbed again, but was calming down. Steve gently pressed the cotton with the peroxide on it to his son's damaged knee, making him wince, but not letting out another cry.

"It burnns.." Peter complained in a weak voice. Steve gently blew on the wound, soothing it, before placing the flowery patter band aid.

"All done," he said happily, smiling at his son. Last sob shook Peter's body, and he smiled back a little. "Come here," Steve abruptly, but gently, pulled his little boy closer, kissing all over his soft cheek and blew a long raspberry. Peter giggled, wiggling in his papa's hold and squirmed out, running in the direction of the rest of the kids.

Steve straightened, watching his boy ran with a smile. He turned away, just to feel someone bumping into him with force.

"Sorry I'm late," he heard a pant in his chest area. "Did I miss something?" Tony looked up, slightly out of breath as if he was running the whole way to the park to find them. Steve smiled, looking at his husband - Tony was still in his suit, which meant that his meeting took longer.

"Nah, we're fine," Steve smiled. Just as he said these words, they both heard a well known cry.

"Bashed knee?" Tony grimaced.

"Yeah," Steve breathed out.

"Again?"

"Yeah."

"I'm on it," Tony said, taking off his jacket, handing it to Steve. Soon he heard Tony exclaiming proudly that "Iron Man to the rescue!", an excited squeak from the kids, and the nice lady calling "hi, Mr Rogers!"

Steve smiled to himself, looking at the clear sky above them. Who would've guessed that life could be so good?

Peter - age 10

"Not good, guys," Steve said sternly, after hearing the medical report from JARVIS. Both Stark men were in bed, the one Steve and Tony shared, with puffy eyes, red noses and temperature. Defeated by the cold.

None of them answered, as Tony chose this moment to sneeze loudly, and Peter coughed miserably.

Steve let out a long breath. "I will make you guys some tea.."

"Noooo," raised a whine.

"Paapaa.."

"Don't leave uuus.."

"I'm cooold.."

"I'm dying.."

Steve couldn't help but to laugh, knowing this game. "Oh, fine," he answered with a laugh, climbing into the bed between them, letting both Tony and Peter curl into his sides, as he took the role of a radiator. "Last time," he reprimanded fondly. There was a peaceful moment and they both snuggled happily into him. Steve was sure that both his boys would fall to sleep, but they just lulled him into a false sense of security. So, obviously he didn't notice, when the same little, mischievous smirk appeared on both brunet's lips, and after Tony winked to their son, they both dug their fingers into Steve's sides. "HEY!" Steve yelped, yelp turning into laughter, as he tried not to struggle to not hurt them. "Hahahaaa!!"

"Payback for when you did that to us," Tony hissed, but he was laughing along with Steve.

"Oh yehahahah?!" Steve challenged. It wasn't a problem for him to reverse their situation, and he pulled them both closer, fingers wiggling at their sides. Both Peter and Tony burst into bright giggles, but didn't cease their attack. It even made them attack with more force.

It was true that laughter was the best medicine.

Peter - age 15

Peter looked warily out from the elevator when it stopped on his and his parents' floor. Good, the way was clear. He took a step out.

"Peter, is that you?!"

Peter cursed quietly. Sometimes he forgot about his pop's peak senses. He quickly zipped his backpack and straightened up the best he could. "Yeah, it's me, OW!" he couldn't stop the cry, feeling a sharp pain running up his spine, as he threw the backpack on his shoulder.

"Peter, are you.. Oh my God," Steve's face fell as he leaned from the kitchen, eyeing his son. Peter's nose was swollen and bleeding, he had a cut under his eye. From his posture, Steve could already tell that he was all battered, hiding the bruises under his clothes. "What happened?!"

"Nothing. Got into a fight," Peter replied flatly.

"Get in here," Steve motioned for the teenager to get into the kitchen. Grumbling, Peter obeyed, knowing that he won't get rid of his pops now. He sat on the chair, letting Steve take care of his wounds.

"With who did you fight?" Steve asked, concern in his voice, as he gently cleaned the small cut.

"You don't know him anyway," Peter answered in a snooty voice. It wasn't his pops' business. Steve didn't let it show that such words did hurt him. He knew that Peter was in a difficult age.

"Are you hurt anywhere else?" he asked, not trying to sound pushy.

"No."

"Peter.."

"I'm fine," Peter answered hard, wincing when Steve placed a hand on his ribs. "I said I'm fine!" he snapped, trying to get away.

"Peter, just let me check," Steve insisted, remembering his own beatings, knowing how easily it was to damage ribs. But Peter was squirming around.

"Noaha!" he yelped, when Steve's hand brushed a more sensitive spot. Steve stopped.

"Oh, Peter.." Steve said in that soft, understanding tone, Peter hated so much, "you still are.."

"No!" the teenager yelped, jolting from the chair, grabbing his backpack. "I will be in my room," he hissed, taking big, quick steps.

Steve had to use all his will to not stop his son. When he heard the door slam, he couldn't help the wince. With a heavy sigh, Steve leaned his back on the counter.

"What was that ruckus?" Tony asked, peeking into the kitchen. He was in his study, doing some paperwork, when the noise alarmed him. He saw his husband's hurt and tired face and already knew. "Peter, huh? Came all battered again?" he asked softly, even though it was more of a statement. He took Steve's hand and rubbed his knuckles reassuringly.

"I don't know what is happening with him lately.." Steve meeped out, looking down.

"Hormones. It's natural," Tony tried to cheer him up.

"I don't know, Tony.."

"He will be fine, Steve. All kids go through this phase. When I was Peter's age, I got constantly into fights."

Steve looked puzzled at the other man, raising an eyebrow. "You?" he asked, surprised. Sure, Tony knew how to fight, but he didn't expect teenage Tony to be feisty.

Tony grinned, remembering the past. "All the time. I was the youngest and a half shorter than everyone at MIT. Had to prove them some stuff."

Steve sighed heavily, not convinced. Tony stood on his toes and pecked his lips.

"Steve, we have a great kid. It's just a phase. He will be over it soon," he said with a smile. Steve smiled weakly back. He remembered how they were close once. Now, Peter had his secrets, snapped back and really looked at his parents as if they were his enemies. He decided to believe Tony on this one.

But he was convinced that everything was fine when late evening he entered the bedroom and found a note on his pillow. "Pop, I'm sorry. P." It was a small gesture, but it was everything Steve needed.

Peter - age 17

"Give me the remote, Steve!!"

"No, we are not watching that!"

"I said give it!"

"There are tons of TV sets in this building, go watch it somewhere else, Tony!"

"This is my TV!!"

"Oh, yours?!"

"Wait, Steve, doohahaahaan't!! Aahaha!!"

Steve grinned impossibly wide, watching Tony squirming in his lap, not able to get up as Steve wiggled his fingers all over brunet's torso using one hand, the other one still holding the remote.

"Maybe you want to reconsider your statement," he teased, drilling fingers into the soft side, making Tony jolt, laughing hard.

"Cheatheheheher!! Haaha!!"

"Whose TV is this?"

"MIhihihiiine!!"

"Wrong," Steve reprimanded, raking fingers up and down Tony's stomach.

"Noohahaha! AAAHAHAA! Yoours!!" he gave up, trying to knock soldier's hand away.

"Wrong again," Steve grinned wider, looping his hand around Tony's waist, holding him in place, dropping the remote to the couch, two sets of fingers walking up and down the soft sides. He slowed down, making Tony still twitch and giggle, but not struggle so violently.

"Ihihiii.." Tony kept giggling quietly, covering his mouth with both hands, trying to muffle the embarrassing high pitched giggles, curling into a little helpless, giggling ball.

Steve laughed, watching him like that. He pulled his husband closer, and stopped, gently turning Tony's head to the side, locking their eyes together. "Our TV," he murmured, rubbing their noses together fondly. Tony lowered his hands, lips meeting in a kiss, which was long and sweet, and made them both dizzy and forget about all their worries, until..

"Yuck. Can't you keep that in your own bedroom?" they heard Peter's unamused voice from above them. He snatched the remote from the couch and changed the program to some music station. Tony and Steve exchanged looks. Steve gave his husband a questioning one and Tony smirked - they didn't need to say it out loud, but they both had an idea. When two sets of strong arms reached for the teenager, pulling him over the couch back, Peter yelped in startled protest. Steve pinned his son down, holding his hands while Tony started to squeeze Peter's sides.

"Dahaahahads!!" Peter kicked, clutching the remote harder in his hand.

"Give us the remote, Peter!" Tony demanded with a wide grin, not bothered by the teen's struggling.

"Noohahaha!!"

Both Steve and Tony shared a quick smile.

They loved being parents.

Description
Peter - age 4 months

"Hey champ, what's up?" Tony asked sleepily, looking into the crib. It was 4 am, and he was woken up by a piercing cry of his son. He was dead tired, but somehow managed to roll out of the bed, knowing that it was his turn to take care of Peter, letting Steve sleep a bit longer.

Peter sniffled, clad in cream yellow rompers, looking at his dad with shiny eyes from crying. He reached his small hand in Tony's direction.

"There, there," Tony soothed, taking the little bundle in his arms. "You had.. OHFF.. Ugh, what the heck did Steve feed you.." he wheezed out, the smell rather overwhelming. Peter looked at Tony, whimpering, as if trying to say that it's not his fault. "Nah, it's okay, kid, nothing a clean diaper and some talk wouldn't fix," he grinned, trying to comfort the baby.

He gently got Peter out of his rompers and swiftly took off the dirty diaper - it was a thing he didn't publicly admit to, but he had no problems changing diapers. Of course, there were some protests and freaking out in the beginning, but now it went smoothly and Tony happily noticed that Peter stopped crying during changing diaper time. But the baby still didn't like to get dressed and was constantly trying to take off his clothes - Tony was laughing that Peter was already taking over his preference to walk around Stark naked.

Peter crossed his eyes and babbled happily, when Tony cleaned him and kicked his chubby, short legs. Tony grinned at the adorable sight, calmly changing the diaper for a new one.

"There, all pretty. Who is my little biological weapon factory?" he babbled, leaning down, placing a scratchy kiss on the boy's tummy. Peter squeaked and laughed, wiggling his arms. Tony blinked. He did that again, a bit longer and gently, getting a longer squeak and laugh. The grin on Tony's face almost split his face in half.

"STEVE!!"

Steve jolted on the bed, hearing Tony's scream from the intercom. "WHa.." he gasped, not fully aware what was happening.

"Come to Peter's room!"

Steve snapped his eyes wide open. He only heard Peter and it was enough to send him running to baby's room, stumbling over his own feet, not wasting time to pull on the robe.

When he saw Tony, by the way, wearing Steve's navy night robe, so good that he didn't look for it, bouncing excitedly next to Peter's crib, huge grin on his face, he felt as his heart got back to his chest, instead of being in his throat. "Tony.. the heck.." he rasped out, as Tony reached for him, tugging him closer to the crib.

"Look at this," he chirped, leaning down, taking Peter's small feet and placing many, tiny, scratchy kisses on the soft skin, causing the baby to laugh squeakily and wiggle his arms.

Steve kept watching, soft, sleepy smile blooming on his face. "Aw, he started to react to tickling.." he cooed.

Tony straightened up, kissing Peter's head and covering him with the baby blanket. He looked at Steve with a bright grin, and both proud parents cherished this moment until Steve swatted Tony's head, making his hair stand on the back. Peter squeaked out a laugh at that.

"Ow! What was that for?!" Tony snapped in a hushed voice.

"You made Peter over excited. Now he won't fall back to sleep," he said sternly, pointing out to the baby - Peter's eyes were wide awake and he was sucking on his short fingers and kicking legs, the blanket kicked to the side, obviously wanting to play more.

Tony whined. "Oh fuck.."

"Tony!" Steve snapped, once again swatting his head. "Don't curse in front of Peter!"

Tony grumbled, massaging his scalp. "It's not like he will remember it anyway.."

Steve narrowed his eyes. Maybe Peter was too little to remember stuff, but it wasn't a reason to freely curse around him. "I swear, if his first word will be the f word, I will kick your a-.."

"Ah ah ah! Baby in the room," Tony interrupted, his lips twitching with amusement.

"Tushy," Steve ended, talking directly to Peter. Tony snorted out a laugh, which earned him a glare. "Get Peter back to sleep," he commanded, giving his husband a serious look.

"Okay, okay," Tony grinned, taking the baby from the crib and into his arms. "We will read some books. Peter, you want to hear about the particle collider, which is one of the greatest engineering milestones of mankind?"

Steve laughed knowingly. He was well aware that they were going to read a book about a family of ducks, but he let Tony think that he fooled him. "Goodnight, kids," he said, first kissing Peter's small head and then pecked his husband's lips, going back to bed.

"Night," Tony answered, sitting with Peter in a chair, hand reaching for the book, when he stopped with a frown. "Did he just call me a kid?" he asked the little boy.

Peter just gurgled happily, kicking legs, wanting to get his story faster.

Peter - age 5

"WAAAH!! PAAPAA!"

Steve looked up from the newspaper he was reading. They were in the park, it was a sunny day, and Peter was in the playground with other kids.

"Peter!" Steve got up from the bench, and to his son. Peter was sitting on the ground, crying, a grazed knee peeking from underneath the hem of his dungarees. "Oh, sweetheart.." he said softly, crouching in front of his son, getting Peter up on his feet. "What happened?" he asked, running a loving hand through his son's brown hair.

Peter sobbed and started to explain how he was racing with other kids and suddenly fell over, hurting himself. Steve listened with concern. The wound was no big deal, but he knew that for his son it was huge. In the meantime, one of the moms whose kids were also playing in the park, walked over to Steve.

"Here, Mr. Stark," she said with a gentle smile, giving Steve some peroxide, cotton and a band aid with daisies on them. "My girls get hurt all the time," she explained, motioning with her head to two cute brunettes, obviously twins.

"Thank you," Steve smiled back, taking the bottle and the band aid.

"You will be fine, Peter," she smiled to the little boy, winking at him, and cleaned Peter's face with a tissue - all parents in the playground always tried to help each other. And she remembered that when one of her daughters threw a ball on a tree, Steve was the first volunteer to retrieve the ball, and she immediately became fond of Steve, his husband and their baby. "Captain America will take care of you."

Peter sobbed again, but was calming down. Steve gently pressed the cotton with the peroxide on it to his son's damaged knee, making him wince, but not letting out another cry.

"It burnns.." Peter complained in a weak voice. Steve gently blew on the wound, soothing it, before placing the flowery patter band aid.

"All done," he said happily, smiling at his son. Last sob shook Peter's body, and he smiled back a little. "Come here," Steve abruptly, but gently, pulled his little boy closer, kissing all over his soft cheek and blew a long raspberry. Peter giggled, wiggling in his papa's hold and squirmed out, running in the direction of the rest of the kids.

Steve straightened, watching his boy ran with a smile. He turned away, just to feel someone bumping into him with force.

"Sorry I'm late," he heard a pant in his chest area. "Did I miss something?" Tony looked up, slightly out of breath as if he was running the whole way to the park to find them. Steve smiled, looking at his husband - Tony was still in his suit, which meant that his meeting took longer.

"Nah, we're fine," Steve smiled. Just as he said these words, they both heard a well known cry.

"Bashed knee?" Tony grimaced.

"Yeah," Steve breathed out.

"Again?"

"Yeah."

"I'm on it," Tony said, taking off his jacket, handing it to Steve. Soon he heard Tony exclaiming proudly that "Iron Man to the rescue!", an excited squeak from the kids, and the nice lady calling "hi, Mr Rogers!"

Steve smiled to himself, looking at the clear sky above them. Who would've guessed that life could be so good?

Peter - age 10

"Not good, guys," Steve said sternly, after hearing the medical report from JARVIS. Both Stark men were in bed, the one Steve and Tony shared, with puffy eyes, red noses and temperature. Defeated by the cold.

None of them answered, as Tony chose this moment to sneeze loudly, and Peter coughed miserably.

Steve let out a long breath. "I will make you guys some tea.."

"Noooo," raised a whine.

"Paapaa.."

"Don't leave uuus.."

"I'm cooold.."

"I'm dying.."

Steve couldn't help but to laugh, knowing this game. "Oh, fine," he answered with a laugh, climbing into the bed between them, letting both Tony and Peter curl into his sides, as he took the role of a radiator. "Last time," he reprimanded fondly. There was a peaceful moment and they both snuggled happily into him. Steve was sure that both his boys would fall to sleep, but they just lulled him into a false sense of security. So, obviously he didn't notice, when the same little, mischievous smirk appeared on both brunet's lips, and after Tony winked to their son, they both dug their fingers into Steve's sides. "HEY!" Steve yelped, yelp turning into laughter, as he tried not to struggle to not hurt them. "Hahahaaa!!"

"Payback for when you did that to us," Tony hissed, but he was laughing along with Steve.

"Oh yehahahah?!" Steve challenged. It wasn't a problem for him to reverse their situation, and he pulled them both closer, fingers wiggling at their sides. Both Peter and Tony burst into bright giggles, but didn't cease their attack. It even made them attack with more force.

It was true that laughter was the best medicine.

Peter - age 15

Peter looked warily out from the elevator when it stopped on his and his parents' floor. Good, the way was clear. He took a step out.

"Peter, is that you?!"

Peter cursed quietly. Sometimes he forgot about his pop's peak senses. He quickly zipped his backpack and straightened up the best he could. "Yeah, it's me, OW!" he couldn't stop the cry, feeling a sharp pain running up his spine, as he threw the backpack on his shoulder.

"Peter, are you.. Oh my God," Steve's face fell as he leaned from the kitchen, eyeing his son. Peter's nose was swollen and bleeding, he had a cut under his eye. From his posture, Steve could already tell that he was all battered, hiding the bruises under his clothes. "What happened?!"

"Nothing. Got into a fight," Peter replied flatly.

"Get in here," Steve motioned for the teenager to get into the kitchen. Grumbling, Peter obeyed, knowing that he won't get rid of his pops now. He sat on the chair, letting Steve take care of his wounds.

"With who did you fight?" Steve asked, concern in his voice, as he gently cleaned the small cut.

"You don't know him anyway," Peter answered in a snooty voice. It wasn't his pops' business. Steve didn't let it show that such words did hurt him. He knew that Peter was in a difficult age.

"Are you hurt anywhere else?" he asked, not trying to sound pushy.

"No."

"Peter.."

"I'm fine," Peter answered hard, wincing when Steve placed a hand on his ribs. "I said I'm fine!" he snapped, trying to get away.

"Peter, just let me check," Steve insisted, remembering his own beatings, knowing how easily it was to damage ribs. But Peter was squirming around.

"Noaha!" he yelped, when Steve's hand brushed a more sensitive spot. Steve stopped.

"Oh, Peter.." Steve said in that soft, understanding tone, Peter hated so much, "you still are.."

"No!" the teenager yelped, jolting from the chair, grabbing his backpack. "I will be in my room," he hissed, taking big, quick steps.

Steve had to use all his will to not stop his son. When he heard the door slam, he couldn't help the wince. With a heavy sigh, Steve leaned his back on the counter.

"What was that ruckus?" Tony asked, peeking into the kitchen. He was in his study, doing some paperwork, when the noise alarmed him. He saw his husband's hurt and tired face and already knew. "Peter, huh? Came all battered again?" he asked softly, even though it was more of a statement. He took Steve's hand and rubbed his knuckles reassuringly.

"I don't know what is happening with him lately.." Steve meeped out, looking down.

"Hormones. It's natural," Tony tried to cheer him up.

"I don't know, Tony.."

"He will be fine, Steve. All kids go through this phase. When I was Peter's age, I got constantly into fights."

Steve looked puzzled at the other man, raising an eyebrow. "You?" he asked, surprised. Sure, Tony knew how to fight, but he didn't expect teenage Tony to be feisty.

Tony grinned, remembering the past. "All the time. I was the youngest and a half shorter than everyone at MIT. Had to prove them some stuff."

Steve sighed heavily, not convinced. Tony stood on his toes and pecked his lips.

"Steve, we have a great kid. It's just a phase. He will be over it soon," he said with a smile. Steve smiled weakly back. He remembered how they were close once. Now, Peter had his secrets, snapped back and really looked at his parents as if they were his enemies. He decided to believe Tony on this one.

But he was convinced that everything was fine when late evening he entered the bedroom and found a note on his pillow. "Pop, I'm sorry. P." It was a small gesture, but it was everything Steve needed.

Peter - age 17

"Give me the remote, Steve!!"

"No, we are not watching that!"

"I said give it!"

"There are tons of TV sets in this building, go watch it somewhere else, Tony!"

"This is my TV!!"

"Oh, yours?!"

"Wait, Steve, doohahaahaan't!! Aahaha!!"

Steve grinned impossibly wide, watching Tony squirming in his lap, not able to get up as Steve wiggled his fingers all over brunet's torso using one hand, the other one still holding the remote.

"Maybe you want to reconsider your statement," he teased, drilling fingers into the soft side, making Tony jolt, laughing hard.

"Cheatheheheher!! Haaha!!"

"Whose TV is this?"

"MIhihihiiine!!"

"Wrong," Steve reprimanded, raking fingers up and down Tony's stomach.

"Noohahaha! AAAHAHAA! Yoours!!" he gave up, trying to knock soldier's hand away.

"Wrong again," Steve grinned wider, looping his hand around Tony's waist, holding him in place, dropping the remote to the couch, two sets of fingers walking up and down the soft sides. He slowed down, making Tony still twitch and giggle, but not struggle so violently.

"Ihihiii.." Tony kept giggling quietly, covering his mouth with both hands, trying to muffle the embarrassing high pitched giggles, curling into a little helpless, giggling ball.

Steve laughed, watching him like that. He pulled his husband closer, and stopped, gently turning Tony's head to the side, locking their eyes together. "Our TV," he murmured, rubbing their noses together fondly. Tony lowered his hands, lips meeting in a kiss, which was long and sweet, and made them both dizzy and forget about all their worries, until..

"Yuck. Can't you keep that in your own bedroom?" they heard Peter's unamused voice from above them. He snatched the remote from the couch and changed the program to some music station. Tony and Steve exchanged looks. Steve gave his husband a questioning one and Tony smirked - they didn't need to say it out loud, but they both had an idea. When two sets of strong arms reached for the teenager, pulling him over the couch back, Peter yelped in startled protest. Steve pinned his son down, holding his hands while Tony started to squeeze Peter's sides.

"Dahaahahads!!" Peter kicked, clutching the remote harder in his hand.

"Give us the remote, Peter!" Tony demanded with a wide grin, not bothered by the teen's struggling.

"Noohahaha!!"

Both Steve and Tony shared a quick smile.

They loved being parents.