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“This is a bad idea.”
Tony had been momentarily filled with Christmas spirit two weeks ago when he called Steve and suggested this in the first place. Still, now that the time has finally come, he has serious regrets. It’s just that their son, Peter, had been crushed that he hadn’t gotten to spend Thanksgiving with Steve. That quickly turned into devastation when he connected the dots and realized he wouldn’t see his Pops at all until the new year. Back when they were still together, Steve would always handle Peter when he batted his doe eyes to try and get something, saying he was immune to them from dealing with Tony all the time. Tony never developed such an immunity; seeing Peter sad had always been his ultimate weakness. After a few days of Peter’s moping, he called his ex and suggested they spend days leading up to Christmas all together at the lakehouse, and Steve readily agreed.
Although things were a bit rocky between them following their divorce a few years ago, Steve and Tony have developed somewhat of an amicable relationship for Peter’s sake. The problem is that since that fateful call, Tony has realized that this will be the longest time he and Steve have spent together in three years. He’s become increasingly worried that this thin veneer of affability won’t survive the close proximity. Just as he considers sending a quick text to try and call this whole thing off, he hears the telltale sound of Steve’s red truck pulling into the driveway. A knock on the door follows shortly after.
“Welp,” Tony sighs, “let’s get this over with.”
Peter was very surprised to see his Pops at the lakehouse and spent almost all of the dinner hanging off Steve like a spider. Luckily for Tony, that meant he didn’t need to actually speak to Steve in favor of the both of them answering Peter’s incessant questions about anything and everything. Before they knew it, it was already 8 pm.
“Alright, Petey-Pie, enough questions; it’s time for you to brush your teeth and get ready for bed!”
Peter got up and ran to the bathroom before running back and sliding in front of Steve.
“Hey Pops, do you think you could read me a story tonight?”
Steve looked up at Tony, a hesitant request reflected in his eyes, and Tony subtly nodded his head in approval.
“Sure thing, kiddo. I’ll be right there after I get my pajamas.”
Both boys clear out of the room, leaving Tony by himself. With nothing to do, he decides to make himself some hot cocoa. Upon opening the fridge, he realizes that he’s left the gingerbread house-making kit that he bought back at home and makes a mental note to try and sneak off and go to the store tomorrow. By the time he’s settled into the couch with a mug of cocoa on the coffee table and his StarkPad in his hand, Steve is already returning to the living room.
“That was fast,” Tony notes, “did Peter go to sleep that quickly?”
“Yeah, he was out like a light before I even finished the first chapter. He must’ve been tired out from all of the excitement of today.”
Steve stood awkwardly in the hallway, clearly conflicted as to whether or not he should sit down.
“I made some hot cocoa earlier,” Tony motions to the pot on the stove with his head. It should still be a bit warm, and you’re welcome to have some if you want.”
Thanks, Tony,” Steve smiles in relief, “I may just take you up on that.”
Tony smiles back before looking back at his StarkPad. He had promised himself he wouldn’t work on his time off, but there was a project that he’d just gotten an idea for, and he figured it couldn’t hurt to work on it for a bit.
“This is nice. Us sitting together, working.”
Tony was jolted out of his intense focus by Steve’s voice. It’s only then that he realizes he’s actually been working for over an hour.
“Sorry, what was that? I was completely zoned out.”
“No, that’s fine; I didn’t mean to startle you,” Steve sits comfortably on
the adjacent loveseat, his hands fiddling with a pencil with a sketchbook in his lap, “I was just saying that it’s nice that we can sit together like this. I’m glad that we can still have this.”
Tony thinks of his friends who are divorced and concedes that he can’t imagine any of them sitting in companionable silence with their exes. Even though it’s mostly for Peter’s sake, this tentative friendship has definitely been hard-won.
“Agreed. This is certainly preferable to fighting like cats and dogs. Honestly, I was a bit nervous about spending all this time together, but it’s not been that bad.”
Steve shoots Tony a subdued smile before looking back at his sketchbook. Tony assumes the conversation is over, but a few moments later, Steve looks up and starts talking again.
“I miss you, you know. Even when we were together, I missed you.”
Tony rolls his eyes. Apparently, he spoke too soon.
“Don’t start, Steve.”
“I’m not starting anything, Tony,” Steve says, eyes wide with surprise, “I was just trying to say–”
“I heard exactly what you were ‘trying to say’, Steve, and I didn’t like it. It feels like whiplash, how quickly Steve goes from saying something sweet to getting under Tony’s skin, intentional or not. “I was there for you and Pete in all the ways that mattered. If anything, it was you who started pulling away. What exactly was there for you to miss?”
“Tony, that’s not–”
“No,” Tony’s voice is firm, though he’s careful not to speak loud enough to risk waking up Peter.
“You don’t get to sit here with me and start getting all dramatic just because it’s Christmastime, and you’re feeling a bit nostalgic. When you first got approached about having your work shown in a gallery, I was nothing but supportive of you. I cut back on hours so I could pick up Pete, and you could work on your art. But then suddenly, months went by, and I was supposed to be okay with you spending multiple nights a week in your studio because you were ‘too tired’ to come home. One day, I was sitting there comforting our five-year-old son because you weren’t around to read him a bedtime story even though you promised him you’d be home, and I realized I couldn’t do this anymore. I deserved better; Peter and I both did. Somewhere along the way, you decided that you didn’t want me, that you didn’t want our life. I just wish you had done me the courtesy of being honest about it instead of pulling away slowly.”
Tony is breathing heavily at the end of his rant, and Steve sits there looking as though he’d been struck his mouth agape.
“Tony I… I really messed us up, didn’t I?”
Tony was silent for a moment, his eyes shiny.
“Let’s just get some rest, Steve,” Tony says softly, “We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”
Tony gets up off the couch and walks to his bedroom. As he closes his door, he catches a glimpse of Steve hunched over with his head in his hands, his shoulders suspiciously shaking as if he’s crying.
Just great.
“Dad, are you gonna make paper snowmen with me and Pops after breakfast?”
Steve’s always been a pro at compartmentalizing, and Tony can always put on a smile for his baby boy, so thankfully, Peter isn’t able to pick up on the tension between his two parents at breakfast.
“Afraid not, bud. It’s just gonna be you and Pops for that; I have to go to the store today.” From the corner of his eye, Tony notices Steve seems to freeze up, but he doesn’t think anything of it.
“Oh, okay! Pops, can we make the snowmen now then? Puh-leaseeee?” Peter asks, turning his big brown eyes on Steve.
“Uh yeah, sure bud. Why don’t you go clean up? You’ve got syrup everywhere.”
“So much for that doe-eye immunity,” Tony mutters with a snort. Steve quickly swivels his head to look at him, proving Tony wasn’t quiet enough.
“Yay!” Peter runs out of the room with all of the excitement an eight-year-old can muster, leaving Tony and Steve alone in the kitchen. The silence left in his wake is considerably more palpable.
“It was just a joke, Steve,” Tony says, trying to lighten the mood.
“You didn’t have to do that, Tony.” Steve’s chosen to steamroll past Tony’s little quip and talk about something completely different.
“Do what?” Tony asks, taken off guard.
“Lie to Peter about going to the store. I know I made things uncomfortable for you last night, I’m sorry, but there’s no need for you to avoid me. Christmas was supposed to be your holiday with Peter. I don’t want my being here to interfere with that. And if that means I need to bow out of here, I’d totally understand.” Steve’s jaw clenches, as though biting back words.
“Steve, slow down. First of all, I didn’t lie to Peter; I wouldn’t ever do that. I checked last night and realized I forgot to bring the gingerbread house kit from home, so I was just going to pop into the store and see if they had one, and then maybe get some more snacks.”
“Oh,” Steve’s jaw loosened slightly, the tension releasing as he uttered a single word. He seems to have snapped out of his earlier spiral.
“Yeah, ‘Oh.’ And hey, look, I’m… I’m sorry about going off on you last night. I won’t deny that you hit a sore spot, but I’m not petty enough to ruin this time for Pete. I invited you here for him, and it’s clear he loves having you.”
“Right, uh, for Peter, of course,” Steve says, his voice faltering. His eyes shift away, suddenly looking anywhere but at Tony. Tony looked at Steve quizzically but then continued.
“He’s clearly really enjoying having us here together. And I think we did a good job at being there for him at breakfast today, don’t you?”
Steve nods, but it’s clear he still has something on his mind.
“Okay Steve, how about this? Let’s call a truce until Christmas. The two of us can just focus on Peter and not worry about anything else. Does that sound good?”
Tony holds out his hand, and Steve hesitates for a moment before shaking it.
“A truce? Sure, Tony. Until Christmas. I guess I’ll let you get off to the store. By the time you get back, Peter and I should be all done.”
Tony forces a smile before heading off to get ready. Even though they’ve come to an agreement, Tony can’t help but feel like a knot has tightened in his stomach. Perhaps this is just the calm before the storm.
The sight that Tony comes home to when he comes back to the house makes his heart seize in his chest. Peter and Steve are both staring very intently at a piece of construction paper with twin looks of concentration. Peter may have gotten most of Tony’s looks, but Tony had always secretly thought that so many of Peter’s mannerisms were an exact copy and paste from Steve. His mind is suddenly flooded with past memories of previous holiday arts and crafts the three of them used to make together: hand turkeys on Thanksgiving, jack-o-lanterns on Halloween, and even watercolor eggs for Easter. He remembers the way Steve would sneakily draw little hedgehogs on post-it notes and files Tony brought home from work because they reminded Steve of how Tony looked when he woke up in the mornings. Tony finds himself suddenly full of longing for that long-forgotten sense of togetherness that came so easily to them once. Tony shakes his head to dispel those thoughts, walks closer, and clears his throat, causing both heads to snap to his direction.
“I’m back!”
“Dad! I missed you!” Peter runs towards Tony at full tilt, giving him a big hug.
“Hey Petey-Pie! I missed you too. Did you have fun with Pops this afternoon?”
“Mhm, and we made you a snowman too; come see!” Peter pulls Tony’s arm to try to drag him into the dining room, and Tony plays along.
“Wow, bud, when did you get so strong?”
“Duh, Dad, since forever. Did you bring me anything from the store?”
“Why don’t you take the bag to the kitchen and find out.”
Tony hands Peter the bag and walks over to Steve at the dining room table.
“I heard you guys made something for me?” Steve startles, as though momentarily lost in thought.
“Yeah, uh, it was Peter’s idea. He said it wouldn’t be fair if you didn’t have a snowman too.” Steve seems strangely nervous, his hand shaking slightly as he holds the piece of paper out to Tony.
Tony takes the paper from Steve’s hand, and Steve starts cleaning up, distractedly putting the supplies away. Steve’s eyes keep darting to Tony and then back to the table, but Tony disregards it. The image is admittedly very cute; they’ve cut up little pieces of white paper to look like falling snow, and they’ve even given the snowman Tony’s signature goatee. Tony smiles down at the picture before noticing what looks like ink bleeding through in the bottom left corner. He feels eyes staring at him, but when he looks up, Steve is suspiciously arranging the markers on the table.
Tony flips the image around and sees a drawing of a hedgehog using a mug of cocoa as some kind of hot tub. He’s suddenly filled with a feeling of warmth, and this little picture is a window into better times between the two of them. He takes it as a sign that all is forgiven between them. He bumps into Steve’s shoulder and gives him a small smile. Steve smiles back sheepishly, raising his arm to rub behind his neck. Their sweet moment is interrupted by Peter, who comes barrelling into the room.
“Dad! Did you see our snowmen?”
“I was looking at the snowman you made for me; you did such a great job, it looks just like me! Why don’t you show me what else you worked on?”
Peter excitedly rushes over to the table, eagerly holding up his snowman.
“Look, he’s missing a tooth, just like me!” Indeed, the snowman has a big smile, with one of the teeth blackened out.
“Whoa, Pete, I can barely tell who’s who!”
Peter laughs at Tony’s joke before putting his snowman down. Tony places his right next to it so all three snowmen are lying next to each other. He spots the ink stain in the corner of his paper again and runs his finger over it. Overcome by sentimentality, Tony looks up and makes eye contact with Steve over Peter’s head.
“I’m really glad we’re all here together,” Tony begins.
“Me too!” Peter pipes in, and Tony looks down at Peter, smiling before gearing up to finish his thought.
“And I’m grateful that your Pops and I are still such great friends. I wouldn’t trade that for anything, and I hope that there are many more new memories for us all to share in the future.” Tony looks up at Steve, but instead of the happy face he was expecting, the smile on Steve’s face looks brittle.
“I’m uh. I’m glad we’re friends too, Tony. Thanks for that.” It seems Steve is trying to offer up a larger smile, but this one looks wonkier than before.
Tony’s confused by Steve’s sudden shift in mood but decides not to say anything while Peter’s around.
“Peter, what do you say you go wash your hands? The sooner you do that, the quicker we can start building our gingerbread house.”
Peter grumbles under his breath but runs to the bathroom, leaving Tony and Steve alone. Tony opens his mouth to speak but is cut off by Steve.
“I’m gonna go, um, change my shirt. It got a bit dirty from drawing.” Tony dramatically looks down at the shirt in question, noticing it’s perfectly clean, before looking back up at Steve and raising an eyebrow. Steve looks down at his shirt and points to a spot at random.
“See, right there. There’s definitely a marker stain. I’ll just rinse this out and change.” He hurries out of the dining room as fast as he can.
“Okayyy? That was weird,” Tony whispers to himself before looking at the mess still on the dining room table, “and now I guess I’ll clean all this up by myself. Just fantastic.”
The day continues to devolve from there. Steve vacillates between being totally normal one moment and then completely distant and spaced out the next. Even Peter’s beginning to notice it. Tony would like to think that it’s not at all tied to their conversation last night, but it’s looking less and less likely. If anything, this day has been frustrating, to say the least. Tony thought they were in a good place, but something changed, and Tony had no clue what it was.
Peter was bouncing off the walls earlier after he undoubtedly snuck more than a few pieces of candy while they decorated their gingerbread house, but after a game of hide and go seek and half of a movie, his energy seems to be waning.
“Popppps,” Peter’s shrill voice resonates loudly in the living room, causing Tony to wince. Steve, however, just seems to be staring into space, absentmindedly fiddling with the tassel of a throw pillow.
“Pops!” Steve startles to attention.
“Sorry, Petey-pie, what were you saying?”
“I was asking if you were going to read me a story again tonight?” Peter’s doing his best to plead with his eyes, but it’s clear Steve doesn’t need any convincing.
“Of course, kiddo. I wouldn’t miss that for the world,” Steve insists, “Speaking of stories, isn’t it about time you headed to bed?”
Peter acts like he’s thinking about it, but it’s clear the sugar crash has hit him hard.
“Okay, but I want two chapters tonight, promise?”
“Two whole chapters? But then you might be too tired to wake up in the morning. Think of it this way, the earlier you get to sleep tonight, the earlier you wake up in the morning for presents.”
Peter squints his eyes in suspicion before relenting.
“Oh, alright, fine! One chapter it is.”
Tony chuckles at their exchange, and Steve tenses up as though he forgot Tony was there. Seeing Steve’s reaction puts a damper on Tony’s mood and he heads to the kitchen to load the dishwasher.
“Pops, come on, hurry up!”
“Alright, alright bug, let’s go!”
The house feels quiet. Tony can hear the crickets making noise outside, along with the faint sound of Steve’s deep timbre as he reads Peter his story. Tony’s fingers tighten around his mug, the warmth seeping into his hands doing little to calm his turbulent thoughts. It’d be all too easy to sneak away while Steve’s putting Peter to bed and go to his room to continue this so-called “truce,” but Tony’s feeling too wired to sleep right now. As soon as Tony thinks he understands what’s going on in Steve’s head, he throws Tony a complete curveball, leaving him with a jumble of conflicting emotions. Tony thought their conversation this morning went well, but apparently not. It seems as though he and Steve have been walking past each other for years, saying just enough but not too much, and all the questions are eating Tony alive. These last couple of days, it’s felt like they were both on the precipice of something, as though there was finally the space for them to get somewhere new.
Tony can’t help but feel a bit hurt by Steve’s actions today. He wants to be angry, but all he can muster up is the lingering feeling of disappointment. Whether that disappointment is aimed at Steve for being so confusing today or at himself for letting himself hope they could finally fix things, he doesn’t know. Either way, one thing is clear: Tony seems to care about this situation way more than he thought he would before Steve got to the lakehouse. One way or another, Tony’s determined to get answers tonight. He brings his mug to the coffee table, sits on the couch, and waits.
Steve is uncharacteristically quiet when he enters the living room and sees Tony sitting there, and Tony’s irritation at everything boils over.
“Look, Steve, I know we agreed on a truce until tomorrow, but it’s clear something’s eating at you. I’m not sure if Peter noticed, but I caught you staring into space quite a few times after I got back. I’m taking back what I said earlier; I think it would be better if we just cleared the air.”
“I’m not so sure that’s a good idea, Tony. I know I’ve been a bit off today, but there are some things I’d been considering before I got here, and it’s going to take me a little time to adjust, that’s all.”
“What’s that supposed to mean, Steve?” Tony looks at Steve with a stubborn glint in his eyes.
“You always try to beat around the bush, but I think you should just tell me what it is you’ve been thinking about so intently.”
Steve sighs and looks up at Tony. It seems as if he’s aged a decade in these last few moments.
“Fine, Tony. I don’t want to fight with you. I never wanted to fight. I guess I just…” Steve trails off, seemingly scouring his brain for the right thing to say.
“You just?”
“When you first called me and asked me to spend Christmas with you and Peter, it seems I got the wrong impression. I thought you wanted to work on this. On us. That you were a little more open to the idea of me being back in your life as someone more than your kids’ other dad.”
“Steve,” Tony looks floored, anguish marring his features.
“You don’t have to say anything, Tony. You certainly cleared things up for me this morning when you told me you invited me here for Peter’s sake. And I’m grateful for sure, don’t get me wrong. I was really bummed when I thought I’d be missing out on another holiday project with Petey. It’s just taking me a bit to adjust my expectations.”
“Steve, I... I don’t know what to say.” Steve looks up at Tony sharply with an air of skepticism.
“Can you really say this comes as a big surprise?”
“Honestly, yes. I definitely wasn’t expecting this at all.”
“Really, Tony? You didn’t have a single inkling? I know things were rough when we first broke up, but until last night, I definitely considered you to still be a good friend. Heck, you called us friends earlier today. I don’t know anyone who’s as close as we are despite not being together. And don’t say this is all for Peter’s sake either. It wasn’t Peter that you made that extra hot cocoa for, and it wasn’t Peter that made me draw a little doodle on your paper snowman, either.”
“Those are all friend things, Steve! I thought that drawing was a peace offering, not that you were trying to open a door that we’d closed years ago.”
“Okay, look, Tony, when you asked for the divorce, I let it happen because you were clear that’s what you wanted, but I never really told you what was going on in my head. I should’ve made the effort to explain it to you better.”
Tony crosses his arms, bracing himself for Steve what he’s going to say. Tony’s on the defensive, so he isn’t at all prepared for what comes out of Steve’s mouth.
“I’ve always been so proud of you, Tony.” Steve looks up with a rueful smile, “I don’t think I was ever shy about saying it, but being with someone that I was so proud of, who was such an inspiration to so many people, was one of my favorite parts of our relationship. And I know I never said anything, but there was always a little part of me that felt sad that you weren’t with someone you could be proud of in the same way.”
“Steve, of course I was proud of you,” Tony has a stricken look on his face, distraught at the idea that Steve was feeling all of this back then and he had no idea.
“I know, Tony, but it just didn’t seem the same to me. In hindsight, I realize the issue was probably that I wasn’t proud of myself, but that’s not what I was thinking at the time. I love my job now, and I’m glad that being an artist has worked out for me, but I think a part of me back then was disappointed that I’d given up on my dreams before I even tried, and I maybe expected that you were disappointed in me too. And I’m sorry for that, Tony. That wasn’t fair of me at all.” Steve looked at Tony earnestly, hoping to get his point across.
“When I got the offer for the art gallery, it felt like a second chance for something I’d let go of a long time ago and also the chance to be the partner I thought you deserved. But I got so focused on chasing this dream that I neglected you; I neglected our family and the life that I’d created with you. And I didn’t even realize until it was too late.”
Tony looked at Steve, shocked by his sudden outpouring of vulnerability. Tony didn’t know what to say. He’d wanted answers, sure, but now that he had them, he quite literally did not know what to do with the information.
The silence between them stretched out awkwardly. The tension in the room sat heavy in the air. Steve started squirming in his seat, clearly expecting some sort of response and unsure of what to do now that Tony wasn’t saying anything.
“Well,” Tony said, clearing his throat, “I... that’s a lot, Steve. I don’t… what made you say all of this now?”
“Why not now, Tony? I’ll be the first to admit that I’ve made a lot of mistakes when it comes to us, but I don’t want you to think for a second that I ever stopped loving you. I never stopped wanting us or our family.”
“You’re serious about this,” Tony’s voice is tinged with disbelief; this whole situation is so incredulous to him. “You really think getting together again is a good idea?”
Steve stares back at Tony with a fiery expression. “Yes, I do. You and Peter are the most important things to me, and I’ve gotten a lot better at prioritizing my time. Things can be different between us; I want to make this work.”
Tony lets out a bitter laugh. “You talk about this like it’s so easy,” he looks down, fingers anxiously tapping on the side of his mug, suddenly filled with trepidation.
“Look, I won’t deny that I don’t feel anything for you, but I’m not sure that what I do feel is enough for us to start up a relationship. I need to think about this, Steve. It’s not just the two of us involved in this; we have Peter to think about too.”
Steve swallows before nodding, clearly choking back tears. “Of course, Tony. I shouldn’t have assumed that…” he cuts himself off, visibly conflicted. “Take all the time you need, Tony. I should… I should go to bed.”
Steve gathers his things and makes a quick escape to his bedroom. The disappointment in his voice was hard to miss, and Tony can’t help but wonder if he’s made a mistake.
Sleep does not come for Tony that night. He sighs and rolls to his side, letting out a groan of frustration into his pillow. He takes a moment to pinpoint all his hurt and resentment from when he and Steve broke up, but it’s no longer there. He can’t even recognize why he felt so strongly the night before during his outburst. With all this new information that’s come to light, Tony finds himself looking fondly at their past once again.
He can’t help but remember how well they fit together, how thoughtful Steve could be. Sure, they fought sometimes, but they always loved to argue. But every night, they lay down together in each other’s arms. His brain cycles to the one part of Steve’s speech he can’t get over: “I never stopped loving you,” Steve had said. Could that really be enough?
It’s clear to Tony now that there’s so much they never talked about while they were still married. Steve's disappointment in himself still throws Tony for a loop. But they’re both older now, and perhaps it’s time for a little Christmas miracle. Maybe they can get their second chance. Tony sighs again before finally throwing off his covers. There’s only one place he wants to be right now.
Tony tiptoes down the hall, his bare feet stepping softly across the hardwood floors before making it to Steve’s door. He turns the knob slowly before walking in. A streak of moonlight streams through the curtains, illuminating Steve’s prone form. Tony’s grateful that Steve’s a light sleeper as he carefully shakes his arm.
“Steve, wake up,” he whispers.
Steve mumbles groggily, squinting his eyes at Tony. “Tony, is that you? What’s going on?”
Tony doesn’t answer; instead, he climbs into Steve’s bed and lies down next to him.
Steve blinks the sleep out of his eyes, clearly very confused. “Are you alright? What are you doing?”
Tony grins at Steve, a rare genuine smile causing his eyes to crinkle.
“I’ve been doing some thinking,” he starts slowly, “I’m still not sure that this thing between us will work, but I’ve decided I want to try.”
Steve sucks in a sharp breath, evidently not expecting this.
“I want this, Steve. You and me. Even when we weren’t together, I could never bring myself to hate you, and I think that says a lot."
Steve’s lips quirked into a resigned smile, but he shakes head. "I don’t think ‘not hating me’ is the best foundation for us to start over."
Tony rolled his eyes, his tone turning a little playful. "Okay, no, I’m doing this all wrong." He takes a deep breath, his expression more serious. "What you said earlier about wanting me to be proud of you really hurt. Because I was proud of you, Steve. So much. I loved you, and I loved how committed you were, and I loved how well fatherhood suited you. There were a million reasons for me to be proud of you, and maybe I didn’t do the best job of explaining all that to you then. But I think the fact that we’re willing to talk about these things now means something. We’ve always been a bit bad at having hard conversations. But we’re older now. Maybe a little wiser. A little more mature than we were when everything fell apart."
The room was quiet save for the soft sound of their exhales. Tony took a moment to look at Steve again, his finger tracing a line down Steve’s jaw.
"What I’m trying to say is... I think there’s a chance for us. I still love you, Steve."
Steve’s voice was almost a whisper, his eyes misty. "Say that again."
Tony met his gaze, his voice steady. "I love you."
Steve reaches out, his hands gently cupping Tony’s face. He kisses Tony deeply, the kind of kiss that feels like both coming home and starting anew.
After some time, they broke apart, breathless. Tony exhaled a shaky laugh. "We should get some sleep. I have a feeling our kid’s going to wake us up early tomorrow."
Steve glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It read 12:01 AM. A small smile tugged at his lips as he leaned in to kiss Tony again.
"I think you mean today. Merry Christmas, Tony.”
Tony smiled warmly at Steve. "Merry Christmas. I look forward to figuring out what comes next with you." Tony’s grin was bright in the darkness as he curled further into Steve’s arms.