Steve was sleeping, as he usually was these days, at the demand of Tony. He’d been insisting for weeks he was fine, that eighteen weeks was just the beginning of pregnancy, but to no avail. Tony had even redone the whole bed, stripping it of the old blankets and providing Steve with nice silky sheets and a thick blanket to keep him comfortable.
Steve did get cold often recently. Be it pregnancy symptoms or that winter was hitting New York full force, he always felt a prickle of chill following him lately. Donned in his favourite sweats (a size bigger already, to his dismay), and a nice warm sweater, he was napping peacefully. Tony always was careful to keep the noise down as he did, never too far from Steve since Steve broke the news he was carrying his baby. Most days, Tony fiddled in his lap, keeping the camera screen of Steve’s room on nearby (“for safety purposes, Steve,”) and waited for him to wake up.
Today though, was different.
Steve’s body was always on high alert, thanks to the serum, and his fatherly instincts already at full force. So when it detected the nice warmth of his blanket leaving, Steve gently arose from his sleep. He peeked his eyes, still groggy. There was Tony, admiring him sweetfully.
Holding a pair of headphones. They were flat, but big. Not for any ear Steve had seen, though by now he knew not to assume. Curiously, and partly by tiredness, Steve kept still and slowed his breathing to feign sleep, keeping his eyes cracked slightly.
Tony chuckled a bit and lifted Steve’s sweater slowly, revealing his rounding stomach. He stroked his belly gently, staring lovingly at his future son (“it IS a boy, Stevie, I swear it.”) Steve watched, confused, as Tony laid the headphones on each side of his stomach, before lifting his phone, the cable connected.
Steve almost jumped when he felt the vibrations against his skin. Quickly, he regained his composure. A rhythm was playing against his stomach, through the headphones. It was - music?
Steve was thoroughly confused. He supposed this was another thing the new century did - playing music for an unborn baby. Steve rolled his eyes and closed them again, intending on sleeping and leaving his husband to his antics.
Slowly though, he focused on the vibrations, and realized what it was. Steve couldn’t stop his short laugh from bubbling out, making Tony jump.
“Jesus, Steve, you scared me,” Tony remarked, seemingly casually. Steve could see the bits of red shading the man’s cheeks at being caught, though.
“You’re forcing our baby to listen to AC/DC?” Steve joked, grinning.
“Yes, Steve!” Tony snapped. “Our son has to appreciate the art of rock, we have to start him young!”
“Very young,” Steve agreed. Tony clicked his tongue, dismissing Steve, and turned the volume louder.
-
It became routine. Whenever he was able to - rather whenever Steve permitted it - Tony hooked up the headphones and played rock music for the baby. Steve thought it was faintly ridiculous.
“He’ll like what he’ll like, Tony,” Steve muttered, lifting his arms I avoid the wires.
“He’ll like rock,” Tony said quite matter of fact.
Steve shook his head and watched, both amused and annoyed, at his husband. That was nothing new.
-
Weeks later, Tony threw an extravagant Christmas party, as per usual. Guests littered the tower, drinks were served, and foods Steve had never even heard of - could much less pronounce - were being served.
Steve made his rounds, thanking everyone who congratulated him on the pregnancy and saying his hellos.
The night was young still, but Steve already grew tired. He was 25 weeks now, and his baby was growing. When he had first kicked, only 3 weeks ago, him and Tony had celebrated the achievement. Ever since, Tony had been amping the rock, with the confirmation his son was in fact aware. Nothing had come from it, which Steve expected. This was another thing Tony would grow out of, he was sure.
Soon, as dinner finished and the dancing started, did the music play. Steve was excited to listen to something other than pounding rock for once. He moved towards the dance floor, too tired to actually dance but rather to listen. He knew nothing special would be playing at this party, and he’d always preferred the softer music.
As he leaned back in his chair, cold water in his hand, the music began playing. It was a soft classical melody, perfect for a fancy holiday party.
No sooner had Steve began tapping his foot to the rhythm did he feel a hard kick to his stomach. He jumped, smiling embarrassingly to the patrons who stared, and steadied himself. He rubbed his stomach gently, attempting to sooth his son.
It was no use. As the song played, his son, whom the pair had decided would be named Peter, kicked and stretched throughout the song. It wasn’t painful, rather like Peter was tapping his own way through the melody.
Steve was amused, and also completely sweet, as he felt his little baby dancing to the song. As it finished, Peter grew still. Steve grinned and laughed softly to himself, still stroking his belly. As the next song began, Peter resumed his dance.
Peter seemed to love his classical, just like his father. Steve smiled wide at how furious Tony would be. Quickly, he stood and searched the crowd for his beloved husband.
He approached him as he was speaking to men in expensive suits he didn’t know, or care about. Tony dismissed them as he spotted Steve walking his way.
“Hello, pumpkin,” Tony said cheerily.
Steve rolled his eyes. Tony had taken to pet names recently, if only to annoy Steve. Honestly, he found it rather sweet.
“The baby’s kicking,” Steve said.
Tony’s eyes lit up. He placed his hand on Steve’s belly, and grinned wide when he felt the thump against his palm.
“Pete’s so cute,” Tony murmured. “You are too, in that shirt,” Tony winked.
Steve flushed, his neck burning. Tony laughed loudly. He quite enjoyed making Steve blush in public.
“Only for the music,” Steve added.
“Mm?” Tony hummed, seemingly focused on Peter.
“He only kicks for the music,” Steve explained.
As if to prove his point, the song ended and the music paused. Tony frowned as Peter stilled, and then his eyes widened at his dance as the next song played.
“But this is boring music,” Tony snarked. “This is the type of stuff you-“ he cut himself off.
Steve grinned.
Tony looked up at Steve, horrified. “What the hell?” He whined.
Steve laughed loud. “Seems your efforts were wasted, he likes real music.”
“Oh don’t even go there, Steven,” Tony snapped. He almost ran to the DJ, leaving Steve behind.
Steve patted his stomach as he song switched to a Christmas rock-cover, and Peter stilled. Tony pouted for the rest of the night.
Steve made sure to make it up to him in the bedroom after the party.
-
Reluctantly, Tony gave up. It seemed alter had no interest in rock, or anything other than classical really. So instead, he hooked up the headphones and played classicals greatest hits.
“I guess as a dad I have to make him happy,” Tony mumbled. Steve could only be amused.
The weeks passed, and soon Steve’s belly grew huge. He wobbled whenever he walked, and was on a strict no-jeans wardrobe. It was only a matter of time before Steve held Peter in his arms, exhausted but blissfully happy. Tony was by his side, joyful tears in his eyes as he stared at his husband and newborn child.
After a few days in the hospital, Steve came home with Peter. Tony had, of course, already set up a play area in the living room.
“Sit down, Steve, god you just popped a child,” Tony grumbled as Steve began cleaning the mess. He rolled his eyes and sat, passing off the baby to Tony as he relaxed.
Tony laid Peter down in his crib, jingling toys and cooing. Steve watched happily, grateful for everything he had. He turned the TV on, expecting the news to be rapid with the news of the birth of Steve Rogers and Tony Stark’s baby.
Obviously, it was. The pair watched as every news station either congratulated them or spun a story of them quitting their jobs as heros, or the dangerous fate of their baby. Steve grew tired of it, and switched the channel to a random movie playing.
Unluckily, a commercial was on. Steve watched the ad for some men’s care product, groaning at the rock playing in the background.
He didn’t expect a gurgle from Peter. Tony stilled, eyes widening in shock. Steve’s stomach dropped at Tony’s slow grin.
“Oh god,” Steve groaned as Tony scrambled for the remote. He turned the volume up and whipped his head back to Peter.
He was gurgling and smiling, his tongue poking out, wiggling to the sound.
Steve watched, preparing himself for eighteen years of rock music, as Tony yelled in celebration.