Chapter 5
While Tony made up the bottle, Peter led Stephen over to his library to pick out a book. Tonight’s selection was The Snowy Day.
“I like this art,” Stephen said as he perused the illustrations. “And look! This little boy is named Peter too.”
“Yeah…,” was all Peter could muster as he toddled over to his open crib and pulled out a blanket. “Ban-kit…”
“I can see that,” Stephen was now following Peter back to the sectional, doing his best not to step on the starry blue blanket being dragged across the ground.
“Stee-ben,” Peter patted a spot in the corner.
“You want me to sit here?” Stephen waited for a slow nod from his host before taking a seat. “And where’s your daddy going to sit?”
“Dah-dee…,” poor, sleepy Peter began to look around the room, as if he had just now noticed his caregiver was missing, “Dah…”
Without fail though, footsteps rushed up the steps and Tony appeared in the nursery doorway with the promised bottle and a sheep-patterned burp cloth over his shoulder.
“Dah-dee!”
“Yes, here I am,” Tony sing-songed for his boy, “okay, ready for bottle and a story? I see you got your night-night blanket.”
“Ban-kit.”
The two then engaged in a familiar routine; climbing onto the sectional and positioning themselves in a way that Tony could feed his baby his bottle.
It was hard for Stephen not to feel impressed with Tony and Peter’s wordless coordination; how they were utterly sympatico in every aspect of their lives from feedings to play and even getting in and out of a car seat. There was also a twinge of jealousy though, as Stephen was now acutely aware that he had been invited to share in a world that already perfect…without him. Whether or not he decided to stay in this relationship, Tony and Peter would go on in this way; happy, healthy and thriving.
Stephen’s mind went back to the moment when little Peter’s hand slipped his hand into his.
Hol’ on Stee-ben…
Yes, I’m holding on…
“Do you want me to read?” Stephen suddenly offered; the book already open in his lap.
“Huh? Oh, yeah, that would be nice,” Tony smiled, “sorry, I’m just…”
“No, no, you’re fine…I got the story, you just focus on Peter.”
Tony did not need to be told twice. As Stephen began to read, his attention was all on Peter; watching him slowly nurse his bottle as he fought off sleep.
The Snowy Day was as charming as any children’s book could be. Stephen did his best to remember to hold up the pictures and show real-Peter all the activities that book-Peter was engaging in.
“Looks like so much fun,” he said when the tale was done, “are you excited for snow, Peter?”
Peter, who had just finished his bottle, did not answer. Instead, he began to fuss and coo and pedal his legs.
“Shhhh,” Tony hushed him, “shhh, you just have some tummy bubbles, silly boy. Come here.”
Tony lifted Peter into an upright position and began to pat-pat-pat on his lower back until the boy burped all the ‘tummy bubbles’ out.
As well as a dribble or two of spit up.
“There we go,” Tony laughed as he dabbed up the mess, “it’s not bedtime until Peter burps up half his bottle.”
“I can see that,” Stephen laughed too. “Do you need some help?”
“You’re sweet, but I got him,” Tony planted a kiss on Peter’s cheek before gently guiding the boy to his feet. “Ready for bed?”
Peter nodded.
“Okay, come on little duck, let’s go.”
Tony managed to guide the sleepy boy to his crib and help him climb inside. Again, Peter began to fuss, this time while tapping his mouth with the palm of his hand.
“You want your Nuk?” Tony was already looking around. “Where’d it…?”
“I have it,” Stephen spotted the blue pacifier on the section and brought it over.
“Oh! Thanks…” Tony took it, “here we go, little man.” The moment the nipple was presented, Peter latched on. Now with the complete trifecta of his pacifier, blanket and bottle, Peter was able to go down for the night.
“Mmm…Dah-dee…,” he cooed as he made himself comfortable.
“Shhh, baby, it’s time for sleep…”
Stephen watched as the boy got the last of his wiggles and stretches out. One arm laid itself over his head, the other fell limply at his side. His legs laid akimbo thanks to the diaper that could be seen poking out from the waistline of his pajama bottoms. A menagerie of stuffies surrounded him in the plush crib bedding.
Peter’s eyes fluttered in an attempt to stay open.
“Stee-ben?”
“Yes, I’m here,” slowly, Stephen joined Tony’s side. The words were somewhat strained as the normally stoic doctor felt his throat tighten. “Uh…you’re daddy’s right though, it’s time for sleep. You’ve had a very big day.”
Peter nodded in agreement before drifting off. Tony pulled a light blanket up over Peter’s chest and lovingly smoothed it out with the palm of his hand.
“He’ll certainly sleep well tonight. But,” he then reached up to turn on the camera clamped on the foot board of the crib, “just in case. I have this hooked up to my watch and a monitor in my room.”
“Of course you do…”
“So…,” Tony’s eyes slid over to the table where their glasses and the half-drunk bottle of wine were sitting, “want me to give you a tour of the rest of the house? We can finish the wine in the private garden.”
“Yeah, that sounds good.”
Tony then dimmed the lights and put on a nightlight; one that projected stars on the nursery ceiling.
The next floor was Tony’s floor…though it was not without a touch or two of Peter. There were a few stuffies laying beside and on the unmade bed and wooden blocks were scattered in front of the T.V. Otherwise though, the room kept in the style of the rest of the brownstone; a nod to the historic elements with modern twist.
“We actually do have to pass through the bedroom,” Tony assured as he quickly led Stephen to the accordion glass door, “and, you know, please remember that the housekeeper doesn’t come until Monday.”
“Yes, I remember.”
The night had grown more cool. Above the skyline, a half-moon was making her late debut. The lights of Manhattan though had left her lonely as no stars could compete with them. Tony and Stephen were now embarking on their final ascent; a highly impractical but oh-so-charming spiral staircase up to the garden.
“I know it’s a hell of a hike, but it’ll be worth it – trust me!” Tony cheered, raising the wine bottle into the night sky.
The space itself was modestly decorated with potted plants and some seating around a table. Basic, predictable and not at all what caused Stephen to gasp in delight. The garden was surrounded with a wall of mature silver maples, making one feel like they were a tiny treasure inside a bespoke jewelry box. Looming above the treetops though was the ever-present skyline. The lights of Time Square, only a scant four blocks away, could be seen faintly pulsating through the foliage.
“This is…amazing,” Stephen whispered as he placed the wine glasses on the table. “It’s like, we’re still in the heart of the city, but…”
“A thousand miles away?” Tony slinked up to Stephen’s side, finishing his thoughts with a soft whisper. “Isn’t it beautiful?”
“It’s unreal…”
Tony snaked an arm, the one not currently holding a bottle, around Stephen’s waist and pulled him closer. There, in the canopy of maples, they shared in a more intimate kiss. The kind where their lips parted; wet and needy. The kind of kiss that when they broke and their eyes met, everything in the world suddenly just fell into place.
“Perfect end to a perfect night,” Stephen purred as he brushed his nose playfully against Tony’s.
“Not quite,” Tony smiled before sauntering over to the seating area. Just as Peter had, he patted the spot beside him on the sofa, quietly commanding Stephen to join him.
Like father, like son…
“What shall we toast to?” Tony asked as he watched Stephen pour out the wine.
“I think a cheers to Peter’s successful performance is in order.”
“He was pretty good, wasn’t he?”
“Absolutely brilliant; had I not known better, I would have thought I was watching a bona-fide leaf!” Stephen then raised his glass.
“Well, we did do a lot of character work beforehand,” and Tony did the same, clinking it with his date’s, “I had Peter in the park every weekend observing leaves in their natural habitat. He really developed a passion for telling their story.”
Small, snorting laughs were shared as Tony and Stephen attempted to sip at their wine.
“I want to thank you again for coming tonight,” Tony said once a quiet moment came upon them. “I know I’ve said it a hundred times, but you have no idea how scared I was about asking you and what you’d say and how it would all go.”
“You were probably just as scared as I was, which now sounds so ludicrous to say.” Stephen smiled warmly at Tony, “Peter is an incredible Little boy. He’s sweet, he’s playful, he’s funny. I mean, honestly, I wish we had done this sooner.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Tony nodded, “but it’s hard…I was always afraid of him getting attached to someone and then, well….you know.”
“Oh,” Stephen had never considered the collateral damage a dissolved relationship could have on a Little. Peter saw the world in a simple, straight-forward way. It would be hard for him to understand how his daddy and Stee-ben could one day be so close, and then one day…not.
“Let’s talk about something else!” Tony waved a hand, as if shooing away all the heavy emotions hanging over them, “I want to hear all about the most recent scandals at Metro. I swear, that place is more entertaining than ER, General Hospital and Grey’s Anatomy combined.”
Tony’s statement was not untrue. Long hours and high emotions did make his workplace ripe for drama. Stephen, the ever-analytical neurosurgeon, was always good at staying out of said drama…but he was not above drinking any spilled tea.
Periodically, Tony would glance down at his watch. When Stephen asked if anything had happened, if Peter was alright, Tony would laugh and assure him all was well.
“The monitor is overly sensitive; it goes off even if Peter let’s out a residual burp.”
It was just after eleven when the wine glasses grew empty, and the bottle had nothing to offer.
“I hate to say it but…,” Stephen sighed begrudgingly, “I should probably go.”
“You sure?” Tony asked.
“Yeah, I mean…the wine is making feel a bit amorous,” Stephen had to look away as Tony’s eyes, bright with the reflection of the moon, became seductively hooded, “which feels weird and…uh, I’m definitely not trying to score right after tucking your kid into bed.”
Without a word, Tony placed a hand over Stephen’s.
“Tony,” Stephen whispered, “I don’t…”
“You can stay,” Tony said, “it doesn’t have to be, like, a PG-13 experience.”
Stephen closed his eyes.
“Don’t take it the wrong way…but I think my brain is still trying to sort out you as a caregiver and you…um, every other time we’ve been together.”
“You need time to accept that I can be a parent and also someone who can bang out a quickie in a Starbucks bathroom?”
Stephen blurted out a laugh, one he was quick to cover with his free hand.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” he continued to snicker, “why did you say that?”
“Because it’s true,” Tony shrugged, “but, in all seriousness, Stephen…I get it.”
“Do you? Are you just saying that to make me feel better?”
“I do,” Tony promised with drunken sincerity, “like, seeing you with Peter…you were different…”
“Different good or different bad?”
“Good different,” Tony smiled, “you…you were so cute with him. And, before today, cute was not a word I’d use to describe you. More like…,” Tony made a little purr, “a sexy, shmexy doctor-hunk.”
“A shmexy doctor hunk?” Stephen raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah.” Lucidity briefly flashed in Tony’s eyes. “I’m kinda drunk, aren’t I?”
“Just a little; the wine was a bit strong…”
A taxi was called and arrived just as Stephen and Tony managed to amble their way to the main level.
“I’ll call you,” Stephen said as he placed a kiss on the scruffy corner of Tony’s mouth.
Tony stood at the top of the brownstone steps, watching the taxi carrying Stephen into the night. He then lingered on the top step of the brownstone, listening to the noise of the distance traffic. Traffic that flowed non-stop in a city of almost nine-million people. Nine million, and Tony could not help but to wonder how many of those people were standing now, just like him, in the cold, October night, watching a taxi carry their lover away.
The hell was in that wine? Tony thought to himself before heading back inside. He had enough sense to know that he was not in the best headspace to not begin an introspection about the night’s events. Of course it was going to be rocky; mistakes were bound to be made. But were there too many? Were they the wrong kind of mistakes?
Tony let out a sigh as he looked around the living room. Peter’s play-doctor’s kit was still laying on the floor beside the train table. Half the contents of the toy box had been removed and the kitchen was still an absolute mess.
It looked nothing like Stephen’s immaculate penthouse.
There had been an unspoken ask in Stephen’s invitation out that night. More than a chance to meet Peter, it was a chance for the doctor to consider an alternative future. Tony had not been blind to Stephen’s hesitation whenever he showed the shmexy doctor photos of Peter. And it was clear from his minimalist penthouse and love of fine dining that Stephen Strange had no intentions of introducing a child or Little into his life.
But that was Tony’s life; his whole life. Peter was his everything. And Tony hoped that Stephen understood that the trust extended to him was tantamount to the trust his patients did.
Tony’s heart was in his hands.
Why couldn’t he be a cardiologist? That metaphor would work so much better…
The face of Tony’s watch lit up and he forced his eyes to focus. Motion had been detected in the nursery.
“Oh boy,” he groaned as headed up the stairs.
Through the glow of the projector nightlight, Tony could see that Peter was upright in the crib and rubbing his eyes.
“Dah-dee
“Hey baby,” Tony approached and lowered the side of the crib, “what are you doing up?”
Peter only responded with a confused sort of hum before putting his arms out.
“Oh, come here my little cuddle bug; did you have a bad dream?” Tony did not wait for an answer and began to tenderly cuddle and kiss Peter as if the boy was in need of consolation.
“Stee…ben…?” Peter finally mumbled around his pacifier.
“Stephen had to go home; he has his own home in a big, tall building with lots of windows.”
Peter was snuggly tucked under Tony’s chin, so he was unable to read the boy’s face. But he could hear Peter’s pacifier being rapidly nursed with annoyed snuffles; a sure sign that Tony’s answer was not satisfactory.
“Stee…ben…”
“I know, I know,” Tony placed a kiss in Peter’s hair, “you two had so much fun today…you got to play on the slide, and then you showed him your trains…and played doctor…read a-,” a wide yawn broke Tony’s words, “…I think daddy might be ready for bed, too…”
Tony felt heavy; his back began to sink into the mountain of pillows at the head of the crib.
Peter smelled so nice and clean after his bath. And he was warm…so warm in Tony’s arms…
As Peter and Tony drifted to sleep, the starry display of the nightlight spun above their heads.
“Okay, this one is from Shield Logistics. They need an updated timetable on the east Broadway distribution-”
“Peppah!” Peter let out a loud screech, causing the red head to look up suddenly from her tablet. Despite the interruption, Pepper smiled affectionately at the boy and asked if he was enjoying his French toast.
“He should be, it’s his absolute favorite,” Tony put a kiss on Peter’s head as he settled into the chair beside him at the table. Before Tony was his own plate of the egg-fried treat, one that he was quick to drown in maple syrup.
“Am I supposed pretend I don’t see you doing that?” Pepper asked with an arched eyebrow.
“You mean me putting these fresh-picked berries into my oatmeal?” Tony shot back a sly smile.
“Yeah…that…Bad enough it’s already nine and you’re not even dressed.”
Pepper’s dress was more relaxed than usual; she had opted to arrive at the brownstone in a pair of skinny jeans, flats and a light sweater. Tony and Peter were still in their pajamas.
“See?” Peter held up and ooey-gooey bite of French toast, letting it drip all over his bib before putting it into his mouth.
“Yes, I do see, cutie-pie” Pepper assured before turning her attention back to her tablet. “But, the east Broadway project? They want to break ground before the end of the year-”
“And people in hell want ice water,” Tony gestured to the open seat beside him. “Put all that that down and have breakfast with us. You standing there bitching at me isn’t going to change the fact that unless Shield has the most greased up hand in city hall, that ground is not breaking until January.”
“Tony…,” but Pepper was already closing up her tablet, “you know, you shouldn’t use that language in front of Peter.”
“Peter doesn’t mind, does he?” Tony smiled brightly at his boy. And Peter, with a face covered in powder sugar, smiled back.
“Dah-dee!” He gurgled.
“Yeah…,” Tony went on with his obnoxiously saccharine voice, “Peter knows that Shield is just trying to make daddy and his company look bad, so they have someone to blame when their shareholders aren’t happy with their returns, aren’t they?”
“Yeah!”
“You’re awful,” just as Pepper went to get her third cup of coffee of the morning, the doorbell suddenly chimed.
“Who is that?” She turned sharply to Tony.
“Door-bah!” Peter slapped his highchair tray, “Dah-dee, ‘es bah!”
“I’m not expecting anyone,” Tony said.
Pepper set her mug down on the island and went to the door.
“’Es bah,” Peter said again.
“Yeah, I got that,” Tony said absently as he tried to look out into the entry way. An ill-placed wall and some of Peter’s toys though were obscuring his view. “Who is the hell…?”
“Nah-dah, an’ dah-dee go pah,” Peter was talking to himself as he tore apart the soggy pieces of his toast.
Pepper suddenly emerged with arms over her chest, eyes narrowed and a playful smirk on her lips. Before Tony could ask a single question, Dr. Stephen Strange slinked up behind her with a white and gold box in his hands. The script read Lily and Sage – the new bougie new bakery in SoHo.
Because of course he would