Caregiver

“Tony, sweetheart, please stop moving,” Steve asked as he attempted to unbutton Tony’s jeans, failing once more. The harness might keep him from falling off the changing table, though it didn’t do much to keep him still.

“No!” Tony refused, throwing yet another kick to his chest as he continued trying to unbuckle the harness. Steve breathed a deep sigh of frustration.

Changing Tony into a diaper was always an ordeal, especially if he wasn’t totally sunk into his little headspace. He cried, wriggled, kicked, hit, bit, anything that could get him out of it. It was true that Steve could easily pin him down and avoid all the trouble, but if he did that, there would be a high possibility that Tony associated diaper changes with negative emotions. Steve did not want that. Diaper changes were supposed to be a nice and special moment between babies and daddies, not a torment.

“If you don’t stop moving, daddy can't take your pants off,” Steve explained, caressing Tony’s leg in a soothing way.

“You not daddy,” Tony hissed. That comment stung more than Steve would ever dare to admit. It always did.

More than anything, Steve wanted to be Tony’s daddy, and the only reason why he wasn’t – at least not officially – was because Tony wouldn’t allow it. As far as he was concerned, he wasn’t a Little, so he didn’t do daddies. Even if Littles were required to have a legal guardian to be in charge of them and look after them whenever their mindsets prevented them from doing so, Tony had never had one – money could certainly let you get away with pretty much anything.

“Tony, please,” Steve begged, deciding to ignore Tony’s last comment. If he didn’t, Tony wouldn’t hesitate to use that against him, and Steve just wanted to get this over with. The sooner he put Tony down to sleep, the better. He tended to get grumpier when he was overtired, and taking into account how his behavior had been so far, Steve bet he hadn’t rested well for who knows how many days.

“No!”

“Tony, baby, you’re not leaving this table until you have a diaper on,” Steve informed with an expression of complete seriousness on his face.

“No diaper!” Tony whined, pulling back his jeans that Steve had finally been able to undo.

“Yes diaper, you need it.”

“NOO!”

Taking advantage of the fact that Steve was focused on his pants, Tony managed to deliver a punch to his chest, and soon he discovered it had been a terrible idea. Hitting a super soldier always caused more damage to the other person. Big tears welled up in Tony’s eyes as he restarted crying, and Steve had to make a huge effort not to scoop him up to comfort him. Little Tony didn’t tolerate pain as well as his adult counterpart did, but if Steve didn’t diaper him now that he had gone limp, they would be there for hours. So, after having JARVIS make sure Tony hadn’t hurt himself seriously, Steve proceeded to finish undressing him and diapering him.

“It’s okay sweety, nothing happened,” Steve soothed as he took Tony’s hand in his to rub the pain away. “You’re okay.”

“Dun wanna,” Tony sobbed, his unharmed hand pulling the diaper he had on now, apparently more upset because of it than because of his hand.

“Honey, I know you don’t like it, but diapers help you to prevent accidents. You don’t like having accidents, do you?” Steve prompted, moving Tony’s hand closer to his mouth so he could kiss it gently.

“Y-yes,” Tony said between sobs, and Steve couldn’t help chuckling. He had always found it adorable how incoherent Tony became when he was caught between two headspaces.

“No, you don’t. Now, be a good boy and don’t move.”

After brushing another kiss to Tony’s hand, Steve turned around and made a beeline to the closet to fetch a onesie. Tony didn’t like wearing them, besides the fact that he considered them too babyish, he disliked any garment that practically left the diaper he didn’t even wished to wear in plain sight. Steve would gladly dress him in something else so he didn’t cause him more distress; unfortunately, any kind of pants or shorts would only make diaper changes harder than they already were.

Looking through the dozens of bodysuits Tony owned – Pepper spared no expense when stocking up on Tony’s wardrobe, Little or adult – Steve chose a red one with the picture of a fire truck on it, made his way back to the changing table and remembered why it was never a good idea to leave the baby alone unsupervised even if it was for a minute. Tony had detached two tabs of the diaper, and he was working on doing the same with the other two.

“Tony!” Steve scolded, throwing the onesie over his shoulder and hurrying to pry Tony’s hands away from the diaper, causing yet more tears.

“Off!” Tony bellowed, hitting Steve on the chest with his mittened hands.

Steve took both hands by the wrists and gently pushed them away, “sorry baby, but if I do that, you’ll take off your diaper.”

“No!” Tony assured, though Steve knew that was not true. Tony would get rid of the diaper as soon as he had the chance, and the only thing that prevented him from doing that was making him wear the mitts. Once Tony’s little side had taken complete control, they would go off, but until then, they would have to remain right where they were.

As envisaged, Tony didn’t like it when his demands went unheard, and Steve had to endure one more small tantrum while he made sure Tony didn’t fell off his lap or hurt himself for a second time in his attempts to free himself from his grip. Tony writhed, kicked his legs in the air, pushed him, attempted to bite his arms, called him names, among other things, but Steve remained stoic. It was always better to let him calm down on his own rather than trying to soothe him, so Steve focused on the room instead.

Of all the rooms in the tower, Tony’s nursery was his favorite one with no doubt whatsoever – which wasn’t such a big surprise given his caregiver status. The light blue walls, the fluffy cloud wall decals all over the room, the white furniture, the star projector night light, the dozens of super soft stuffed animals that Little Tony seemed to love as he was always holding one, Steve liked every inch of the nursery.

Steve had been genuinely astonished when he found out Tony had allowed such a room to be build, though that astonishment decreased considerably when Pepper told him she’d been the one who had gotten the nursery set up. Tony and she had gotten into a huge argument over it, and Tony had disassembled it a couple of times before JARVIS’s Little protocol granted the A.I. the possibility of banning him from entering if he wasn’t in the right mindset. Needless to say Tony had gotten mad at JARVIS too, and for the next days, he’d tried to overwrite that protocol code, without much success.

Without really understanding how, or whether it was possible or not, Steve got the feeling it was JARVIS itself the one who prevented Tony from getting his hands on that coding. The A.I. was very protective of his creator, and knew perfectly well that keeping Tony safe sometimes meant being on his blacklist.

“May I?” Steve heard someone ask from the other side of the door. Tony went quiet immediately and latched onto Steve, hiding his face against his shoulder. He wasn’t so keen on visitors whenever he was in that cranky state. “We’re coming in,” Phil announced after a few seconds, opening the door and stepping into the room with Clint walking shyly behind him. “I figured you’d need this,” he said as he held up a bottle.

“Oh, yes, thank you so much,” Steve thanked. Warm milk had a soothing effect on Tony – or rather the fact of being bottle fed, though Steve had to be careful not to say such a thing in front of Tony – and he would’ve taken a bottle before leaving the common kitchen if he hadn’t had to leave in such a rush.

“Go and give it to Uncle Steve,” Phil suggested to Clint as he handed the bottle to him. A bit hesitantly, Clint took it, and after an encouraging nudge from Phil, he plodded towards the rocking chair where Steve and Tony were.

“Here, Uncle Steve,” Clint offered, passing him the bottle. Steve leaned slightly forward to be able to reach it, and he could feel how Tony tensed significantly in his arms.

“Thank you, kiddo,” Steve replied with a smile, and he furrowed his brow when Clint said something so quietly and stutteringly that not even his super soldier hearing could decipher. “Come again?” Clint turned his head away to look at Phil, and turn it back after his daddy nodded.

“Can Tony come and play?” Clint asked with tiny voice, his feet fidgeting nervously.

“Oh.” Of course that was what Clint was going to ask. He always asked the same thing. Being surrounded by adults had to be pretty boring for a Little, and even if all of them played with him as much as possible, Clint was always looking forward to those rare occasions when Tony allowed himself to be Little. "I'm sorry, buddy, but Tony's going to take a nap now,” Steve informed, feeling bad because of the expression of disappointment that appeared in Clint's face. “But maybe when he wakes up,” he hurried to lie.

Even if Steve succeeded in making Tony stay Little, he wouldn't play with Clint right away. He tended to be get very clingy on the first day his little headspace finally managed to pull him in, and sometimes he didn’t even remain like that long enough to get comfortable around other people besides Steve, let alone to have a playdate.

“Yes!” Clint agreed enthusiastically, taking off the burden Steve felt for having lied to him. If that white lie made Clint happy, it wasn’t that bad, was it? Besides, given how long Tony hadn’t allowed himself to be Little, he could in fact stay like that for a couple of days and agree to spend some time with Clint. “Thank you, Uncle Steve!” Clint expressed before turning around and running back to where Phil was waiting for him with his arms open wide for a hug.

“Sorry, but he wouldn’t stop asking me to come to see Tony,” Phil apologized, tousling Clint’s hair affectionately, “We’re gonna be downstairs if you need us, this young man here needs to clean up his room.”

“What?? Noooo!” Clint whined loudly as he let Phil turn him around and hold his hand to lead him to the door.

“Yes, bug, your room is a mess, you need to pick up your toys,” Phil said, and Steve couldn’t help chuckling. Little Clint’s room always looked like it’d been struck by a tornado, and it didn’t matter how many times Phil got him to put everything away, it only took him ten minutes to make a mess again.

Steve knew it was a bad idea since he began untying the mittens. Unfortunately, after spending more than thirty minutes trying to get Tony to drink from the bottle, Steve doubted there were many options left. If he didn’t allow Tony to hold the bottle himself like he’d suggested, chances were that he never drank the milk.

Therefore, doubtfully, Steve removed the mittens from Tony’s hands so that he could grab the bottle, and it took him just a couple of seconds to regret not having listened to his gut. Almost instantly, Tony threw the bottle at the wall, chocolate milk splashing everywhere, and resumed his attempts to free himself from Steve’s grip.

Steve pressed his lips together, making a huge effort not show how all his patience and optimism was rapidly turning into disappointment and frustration.

It wasn’t always all roses when Tony needed to be Little; there were tantrums, fights and crying before he finally allowed himself to slip into his little headspace. It physically hurt Steve to have to go through that, seeing Tony struggling that way and not being able to do anything about it made Steve feel horrible; but he endured every insult, every hit, every disdain because, at the end, it would be all worth it. Once he had his baby in his arms, soaking up all the affection Steve was more than willing to pour into him, it was all definitely worth it.

However, there were some situations where Tony’s adult counterpart refused to give in, and the only thing Steve managed to do was to make him angry. That was something Steve didn’t like; when Tony was angry at him he got moody – not that he would ever acknowledge that – and he tended to hide away. How could Steve look after him if couldn’t even see him?

Hence, in those situations, Steve forced himself to step aside, and he was afraid that today was one of those days where he had no other choice but to do that

“Let go!” Tony roared, pushing Steve’s arm as hard as he could.

“You know what? You wanna go, then just go,” Steve said with a dread serious voice as he removed his arm from around Tony’s waist and helped him to get off his lap. Tony, clearly taken aback, turned around and stared at him for several seconds, unable to decide whether to leave or not. “Go,” Steve encouraged, earning a confused frown.

Tony looked at the door. He looked at Steve. He looked back at the door, and then at Steve again. He repeated that action some more times before waddling towards the door, turning around one last time in order to look at him before stepping out of the room.

Steve’s heart gave a twist in his chest as he closed his eyes and leaned back on the rocking chair, uneasiness creeping up on him. He couldn’t deny he’d been really looking forward to spending time with Little Tony, and the realization that that wasn’t going to happen was truly disappointing.

Littles weren’t the only ones who had a bad time if they didn’t make time to be Little, caregivers also needed that time, almost as much as Littles did. Caregivers craved that feeling of satisfaction they only got whenever they look after someone, and even if Steve babysat Clint every now and then, his crave wasn’t completely fulfilled unless he took care of a baby. Clint wasn’t one, Tony was. Phil had suggested him a few times to look for a baby who was willing to have him as a daddy, since it was obvious Tony wasn’t.

The problem was Steve wanted nobody but Tony, and he could swear Tony felt the same way about him. Steve just had to be patient.

Deciding there was no point on staying in the nursery if Tony wasn’t going to stick around, Steve rocked a couple of times more before standing up and leaving the room. What was he supposed to do now for the afternoon? If he didn’t occupy himself with something, the following hours would be a complete agony. Perhaps he could go down to the gym and do some training, that always helped to ease his mind; though, if he had to be honest, he wasn’t in the mood of exercising at all.

“JARVIS, where are Phil and Clint?” Steve asked. Phil had said something about Clint having to clean his room, but it wouldn’t be the first time – nor the last one – that Clint somehow managed to get out of it.

“They’re watching a movie in the communal floor, Captain,” JARVIS informed, making Steve chuckle, a chuckle that vanished as soon as he walked into the living room and saw Tony standing in front of the elevator, back towards him, doors open but no apparent intention of stepping into. “Tony?” he called.

There was no answer. Tony didn’t even bother to turn around. He just stayed right where he was, trembling and… sobbing? Steve drew his eyebrows together in a frown, confused. Why was Tony still there? It usually took him less than a minute to get to his workshop and hide there for as long as he could. And why was he crying? He had gotten what he wanted, hadn’t he? Steve had stopped encouraging him to stay Little and had set him free. Not even JARVIS was preventing him from leaving as its protocol sometimes indicated the A.I. to do, otherwise the elevator doors wouldn’t have opened. So, what was the problem?

“Tony?” Steve called again, taking a couple of steps forward with caution. Tony didn’t like to be approached all of a sudden, it was always better to do it slowly. “Hey, Tony, what’s the matter?” he questioned. After considering it for a few seconds, Steve closed the gap between them, but he stayed a couple of inches behind from Tony, just in case. “Are you okay?” he insisted, but still no answer was given.

A bit hesitantly, Steve placed a hand on Tony’s shoulder, and was really surprised when he didn’t shake it off. Taking that as green light, Steve went around him to face him, and his heart broke in two when he saw Tony sobbing hard, desperately trying to wipe with the back of his hands the tears that seemed to keep welling up in his eyes without his permission.

“D-da-daddy,” Tony said between sobs, hugging himself after having wiped his hands on his onesie.

“Oh, sweetheart, it’s okay,” Steve soothed, voice as tender as he could. He leaned a bit forward to be at Tony’s eye-level and placed his hands on his shoulders. His mouth curved into a sad smile when Tony bowed his head in an attempt to hide from him. “May I hug you?” he asked. It was imperative to ask for permission to have such displays of affection with Tony since he wasn’t so fond of them, especially when his emotional stability was as fragile as it was right now. Tony squirmed a little under his touch, and after several seconds that felt like hours to Steve, he nodded almost imperceptibly.

Without further delay, Steve pulled Tony into a tight hug. Tony stiffened, and for a moment Steve was afraid he would jerk away from him, but he didn’t. It took him a moment, but Tony finally relaxed in his arms and melted into the embrace. He didn’t even resist when Steve scooped him up.

“So-sorry,” Tony murmured an apology.

Steve hugged him tighter, his hand cupping Tony’s neck. “It’s okay, baby, daddy understands, daddy’s not mad,” he assured with a sincere tone of voice. And he really wasn’t angry, how could he, if he was going to have his baby at least for the rest of the day? More if he was lucky.