“Wanna hold her?”
Tony eyed the tiny bundle of fur Steve cupped in the palm of his hands. The kitten was blinking at him sleepily, her head slumped down as if holding her head up was too great of an effort.
“She’s so small,” Tony ventured, leaning in a bit to stare at her. Her tiny pink mouth opened in a yawn. It was unbearably adorable.
“That wasn’t an answer,” Steve pointed out, grinning.
“I think you’re doing just fine holding her all by yourself,” Tony said. She was cute, yes, but she was so small. He wasn’t sure he even knew how he was supposed to hold her. He wanted to, desperately, but he just really wasn’t sure how. He was a little bit scared of breaking her.
They were sitting in Steve’s living room, side by side on the couch, while Steve stared adoringly down at the tiny kitten he’d found outside his work earlier that day. There was something equally comic and endearing about watching Steve fawn over the tiny creature, with his bulging muscles and tattoos peeking out from under the sleeves of his tee shirt. He was just so huge and the kitten so tiny, but Steve was just so natural and caring with her that it didn’t seem strange. Just... unexpected.
Completely adorable, but Tony wasn't going to say that, especially not with Steve's mother hanging around.
“Trust me to end up with a blue haired son who brings home strays on a regular basis,” Sarah said, and Tony looked up to see her sweeping into the room with a blanket and a small bottle filled with milk in hand. She stopped in front of Steve and reached one hand out. “Give her here.”
Steve obliged after a long moment where he stroked the kitten’s head, passing her over carefully so his mom could wrap the tiny thing in a blanket.
“My hair is hardly blue, Ma,” Steve countered, running one hand through his blonde hair that did, indeed, have hints of blue in it. “And it’s not like I bring home strays on a daily basis.”
Sarah harrumphed and settled into her armchair across the room, draping the blanket clad kitten across her lap. “A certain half dead bird you left on kitchen table begs to differ.”
Steve shook his head and laughed. “I was six, Ma. Cut me some slack.”
Tony snorted in amusement beside him. Steve elbowed him.
“You’re supposed to be on my side,” he griped. “Traitor.”
“When he’s under my roof, he’s on my side,” Sarah piped in. The kitten chose that moment to chime in with a small, squeaking meow. “See?” Sarah said pointedly, “even the cat agrees.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Steve grumbled, but he was smiling, staring over at his mom and the kitten with a soft expression on his face. “My boyfriend, mother and the kitten I rescued are all ganging up on me. This isn’t fair.”
Tony reached out and wove his fingers into Steve’s hair, brushing a stray strand away from his forehead. “Aw, don’t be upset. You know I like the blue hair.”
Steve rolled his eyes and scooted closer to Tony, reaching out to wind an arm around his waist. Tony leaned into him slightly, an instinctive movement, pressing himself against Steve’s side.
“You’re just sucking up because you know I’m gonna let you pick her name,” Steve accused.
“We’re keeping her?” Tony said, a little too quickly. He stopped, backtracked a bit. “I mean, uh. You. You’re keeping her?”
“We’re keeping her, yes,” Steve said, emphasizing the we’re in a way that made Tony’s heart jump slightly. He squeezed Tony’s waist lightly. “And you’re naming her. If you want, of course.”
Tony’s chest felt a little tight, in a good way, his insides fluttering and constricting with… something.
Contentment, he thought in passing. This might be what it’s like to feel content. He was warm all over, something soft and glowing settling deep in his gut, as he sat there next to his boyfriend, with his mother and their new kitten, he felt content. These little moments with Steve reminded him what it was like to feel that way.
“Okay,” Tony murmured, shifting a little closer to Steve. “I’ll think about it."