Today marked the first day that two-and-a-half year old, Peter, would be sleeping in his very own room. His father, Steve Rogers, was a worried mess. His other father, Tony Stark, on the other hand, was repressing a cry of 'hallelujah!' for his husband's sake.

"But what if he starts to cry and we don't hear him?" Steve fretted, pausing from arranging the display of rubber spiders on Peter's new desk. Peter had an obsession with the eight-legged creatures, and Steve had insisted on making it a theme throughout the room.

In fact, Steve had insisted on doing ALL the decorating. Tony was more than fine with that. The only input he had was the color scheme. Red for Iron Man and blue for Captain America. Steve had tried to protest, saying – lovingly, of course - that their son's room was no place to feed Tony's insatiable vanity.

The debate lasted over an hour, which was an hour too long for Tony, who silenced Steve the best way he knew possible. He'd pushed him up against the refrigerator and proceeded to kiss every available inch of skin on Steve's neck. And when he'd successfully done that, he stripped Steve of his clothing piece by piece to expand his canvas, slowly moving them down the hallway, toward their room.

They were both down to their boxers by the time they'd reached their room. Which was perhaps why it hurt so much when Steve tripped over a stray toy of Peter's, bringing them down on top of MORE stray toys; effectively killing the mood, and Steve's protests.

"He's almost three years old, Rogers. If he's upset, he'll walk into the room and tell us," Tony said, emphasizing their son's age and what that made him capable of. If it'd been up to Tony, Peter would have had his own room a long time ago. Tony hadn't spent a single day in his parents room after he'd been brought home from the hospital. It wasn't that he was basing his parenting skills on his parents'. (Ha. What parenting skills?) He just thought it was time Peter had his own room.

But Steve worried about their enemies breaking in and stealing Peter in the middle of the night and neither of them noticing. Tony tried to argue that no one could break into STARK Tower without him knowing it, but Steve wasn't having it. So he indulged him. It wasn't that Tony didn't worry about his son, he just trusted in his specific set of abilities to protect his son. Which included having the best security technology available, because he'd built it himself. While Steve relied on his own protection ability, which was his brute strength. Hence why he wanted Peter as close to him as possible without physically having him in the bed with them.

"Besides," Tony continued, "Peter's just across the hall. And you've got the ears of a fox, Super Soldier. You wake up if our kid so much as rolls over in his bed."

Tony remembered the first few months after Peter'd been brought home. Tony didn't naturally sleep very much, but having a child was more tiring than spending all night building human-sized robots or engines for new fighter pilots, and he'd actually been sleeping through the night. Or he would have, if Steve didn't jump out of bed every time baby Peter so much as twitched in his sleep.

Tony absently reached behind him for his cup, and didn't even notice when he grabbed Peter's sippy-cup of apple juice instead. Because, really, what parent did after so many years of eating Spongebob shaped macaroni off their child's plate because it was either that or skip dinner all together? Tony didn't have time to notice what cup he was drinking out of when he had a kid to chase around the house.

"Speaking of foxes, might I say, Captain, you're looking mighty foxy in that plaid shirt. Sort of like a clean-shaven lumberjack." Which was an oxymoron, but Tony didn't care. He set the cup down and sidled up to his husband. He ran a hand up Steve's broad back, and pressed his lips to the curve of Steve's ear. "Think you could grow a beard by tonight? If you're good, I'll let you put your tree in my trun-"

"There!" Steve cheered, throwing his arms up in victory. "What do you think?" Steve gestured to the display of rubber spiders, a proud, expectant smile on his face as he looked at Tony for approval.

Tony couldn't help but smile at his beaming husband, all thoughts of sexy lumberjacks already a million miles away. He pressed a kiss to Steve's lips. "It's perfect."

"If you need anything, we're right across the hall, okay?" Steve pushed Peter's bangs back, smoothing them across his forehead. Natasha had brought their son back after a day at the zoo to keep him out of the house while they finished his room.

"Okay, Pop," Peter said, only slightly exasperated after assuring his father for what had to be the hundredth time.

Tony smiled at his son behind Steve's back, and winked. Peter giggled and tried to wink back. But he wasn't quite capable of closing just one eye yet, and in his attempt to, his nose scrunched up, and his eyes squinted as he tried the right eye first, then the left, and then ended up closing them both.

Steve laughed, thinking his son was making funny faces to try to cheer him up. Tony smiled brighter, because he'd known it would have that effect on his husband. Tony had pulled Peter aside the other day while Steve made dinner, and told him to indulge his father in his worries for the next few days because his Pop was a big old worry wart, and he might turn into a toad if they didn't calm him down in time. Kind of like how Uncle Bruce turned into the Hulk when he got angry. Only worse. Because then Tony would have to kiss Peter's father to turn him back into Captain America again, and kissing was gross. You could get cooties.

"Alright, Captain," Tony put a hand on Steve's shoulder. "Time to let our son sleep. It's already past his bedtime."

"Right across the hall," Steve assured once more for good measure. Tony squeezed Steve's shoulder, and Steve reluctantly rose to his feet.

Tony smiled reassuringly at his worried husband, and moved to kneel by Peter's bed. As he stared at the small, brown haired, brown-eyed child that was his son, he tried not to show just how worried he actually felt. One of them had to try to treat Peter like the two-and-a-half year old he was. "We are just right across the hall," he whispered to his son.

Peter rolled his eyes, smiling. "Not you too, Dad."

Tony smiled back. "Good night, Peter, I love you." He pressed a kiss to his son's forehead, and rose to his feet.

They backed out of the room, slowly, closing the door behind them.

"He'll be okay, won't he, Tony?" Steve pulled Tony against his chest, resting his chin in the crook of his shoulder. "He'll come get us if something is wrong?" Steve worried that Peter would try to tough it out if he was too scared, because he wanted to act like the big boy they were telling him to be.

Tony laced his fingers through Steve's, which were resting on his chest. He spun the white-gold wedding band on Steve's ring finger, before bringing it up to his mouth to kiss. "He's our son. He'll be fine."

Some time in the middle of the night, when sleep had managed to claim the worry-riddled husbands, Tony felt a tugging on his hands. His eyes snapped open immediately, and he saw his son, in his over-sized Black Widow t-shirt, standing at the side of the bed.

"Everything okay, Buddy?" Tony asked. Steve was already awake, and peering over Tony's shoulder, his chest pressed against Tony's back.

Peter sniffled, and wiped at his nose. "I – I can't sleep. It's – It's too dark. And I think there's something in my closet. You forgot my night light," he whispered behind his hand, embarrassed.

"It's okay, Buddy. We'll go check your closet for you. And then we'll get you a night light, okay?" Tony reached out and squeezed his son's hand. "But what's wrong? Did something happen? You never minded the dark before," he said kindly. It was true. Tony and Steve always slept in complete darkness. And Peter had never minded. They didn't get Peter a night light, because he'd never asked for one before.

Peter stepped forward, and Tony leaned in, thinking he was going to whisper something to him. Instead, Peter reached out and tapped the center of Tony's chest, where his arc reactor was glowing a soft blue. "You were my night light, Dad."

Something tightened in Tony's chest, and it wasn't Steve's arms squeezing him from behind. And that was how Peter spent his first night alone, squished between his two parents as they draped their arms across each other.

And how the next night, Peter went to sleep in his own room, his favorite teddy bear clutched in his arms, an arc reactor sewn into the center of its chest with a silhouette over the top that cast a shadow in the shape of a star onto the wall.

My first attempt at some SuperHusbands. What'd you think? Thanks for reading :)