Thread: pure i m a g i n a t i o n [fics & stuff]

size-2Look at him, Tony. I cant. But you can. And you do. Every day. Tony had no immediate response. Steve was right, of course. Steve was always right. And it was in his rightness that Steve shined. His look was hardly arrogant Steve was looking at him the same hed been looking at him for years - with pure love and a exceeding amount of patience. Tony knew a lot about Steve and he knew that Steve was no fan of repeating himself and so, like so many other times, Tony Stark relented when confronted by those blue, blue eyes. His son was easy enough to spot. He was in the process of building a fully functional foosball table, a feat that would have been remarkable enough for any child Brady was five. With his little hand wrapped around the individual wires, Brady looked the picture of calm and Tony had only felt the first pangs of worry when this little project had gone underway but Brady had proven him wrong with a headstrong certainty and a level of skill that exceeded his years. Now, as he listened in on the successful sound of a buzzer going off, Tony only felt pride. Pride, with a side of guilt. Steve folded his arms across his broad chest and Tony watched as his better halfs body turned towards Brady. Tony was struck again by their physical similarities. Brady had genetically inherited Steves golden hair and blue eyes and in many ways, Tony was grateful. All the goodness that came with Steve Rogers had been packed away in a tiny body, but Bradys brains, those were all his. Look at him, Steve repeated, only this time it wasnt a command and Tony could have read the love in his tone a mile off. Hes got the size down, Tony remarked, but the designs a little bland for my tastes. Steve cut him off with a look and Tony felt shamed enough to exhale all of his falsities. He didnt always mean for them to show up, they were just there . Hes growing fast, Tony observed, pocketing the hands hed only now noticed had been fidgeting relentlessly, Were not cutting his hair. It was a definitive thing to say in a very definitive way. The more people mistook Brady for a girl, the stronger was Tonys resolve. He would have sooner shaved his face than touched a single golden strand on his sons perfect head. A smile threatened to grace his face and for once, Tony didnt bother to fight it. Perfect didnt even begin to describe what he and Steve had made. Steve took notice and Tony felt the familiar weight of his partners hand resting on his shoulder. He leaned into Steves touch and the sound of Bradys laughter echoed through the spacious lab like so many little bells. It was more of a mini-lab slash nursery, really, one that Tony had designed himself from the moment he became aware of his impending fatherhood. You want to hold him, Steve said gently, and at that moment Tony could not have loved him more. That was Steve, he could somehow order you around without actually ordering you around, You have that right, Tony. Nothings stopping you. Except himself. Why Steve was choosing to omit that little part was beyond Tony but he was too high-strung to be reading into things too deeply. Steve was right. He did want to hold Brady. He wanted to hold him very badly. Hey, buddy boy, he called out, his brain registering that hed spoken long after his heart, Cmere. Tony watched the way Brady hesitated, a moments pause that broke Tonys heart into a million little pieces. He had planted that seed of doubt in his childs mind from the beginning and in doing so he had become everything he had wanted to avoid the absent father. He had no defences at his door, history repeated itself in the ugliest of ways, and he had been slumming in Howards shadow for what felt like centuries. But, like a child of five with a trust so infinite and pure it could swallow the earth, Bradys doubt subsided almost immediately and he dashed towards the pair of them as fast as his little legs could carry him. Tony was quick to scoop him up. His son smelled of powder and shampoo and syrup, a scent Tony would log into his mind for years to come. You want to help daddy get a jump on that micro-dryer? he asked, fixing his eyes on the tiny button his son called a nose. Darbis? Brady queried, looking to the skies as if expecting his constant companion to answer. And he did. Tony had made sure he always would. If he couldnt be a father then Jarvis sure as hell would. I will accompany you wherever you go, little sir, came the automatic response. That was all the confirmation Brady seemingly needed and he settled into Tonys arms obediently. There was something melancholy to that compliance, it was the silent gesture that screamed loud enough for Tony to hear and yet, hed been willfully deaf to his sons pleas. All any son wanted was the approval of his father and Tony only wished he had the words to express how proud he was of Brady for simply existing. Tony looked to Steve who had his large hand pressed protectively against their sons back. It was a rare picture, the three of them together, and Tony knew that he was entirely to blame, but he would put off blaming himself for now. Right now his son needed his attention and every once in a blue moon he could comply. He didnt need to be that man today. size