"Why are you not freaking out?" Danny held the dirty diaper at arm's length.
Steve just shot him a smile before going back to administer a clean diaper with military precision.
"You have baby poop on your face, Steve. And yet I've never seen you quite so..."
Steve took out a wet-wipe for his own face, free hand steady on the baby's belly to make sure he wouldn't squirm his way off the make-shift changing table.
"It's a good look on you, babe," Danny smiled softly.
"What? The poop?"
"No," Danny said, taking a step closer to Steve, "The baby..."