Steve smiles at the baby boy staring back at him. He coos as the baby kicks his little legs and flails his arms, making tiny vocalizations as he does. Despite being only 4 months and rather tiny, little Peter Benjamin Stark-Rogers had a big voice.
“Peter,” Steve coos as the infant begins to fuss. Steve doesn’t pick his son up, rather he lays on his side next to the infant.
Peter looks at his Pops before looking at his chest. Steve instantly gets flustered “Peter,” his son makes eye contact with him “my eyes are up here”. The infant’s eyes were drawn at Steve’s well-endowed chest.
Given how close Steve was lying to his son, he wasn’t surprised when Peter grabbed his loose t-shirt and started lifting it up.
“Peter, privacy.” Tony scolds his son as he enters with a bottle. Peter suddenly breaks out into a fit. Stopping to stare and smack his lips at Steve’s chest. “Pops doesn’t have any milk,” Tony says, picking up the infant.
He offers the bottle which Peter takes greedily. “I have a bigger chest yet I don’t have any milk.”
“I have a smaller chest and I used to have milk,” Tony snorts.
Steve watches as his son drinks his formula, when something crosses his mind. “Where’s Harley?”
The realization that their oldest had been too quiet raised some concern. Steve stands, “I’ll go look for him.”