"Him." Steve says it quietly, but with the steely determination Tony knows all too well. "He's the one." His gaze is clearly fixed on a skinny boy of about nine years old, arms buried up to the elbows in freshly turned soil.
"The kid with the tulips?" Tony asks skeptically. Typical Steve, bleeding heart as big as New York City; he should have known all their research would be out the window once Steve saw the kids. "Come on, we talked about this. We're looking today, just looking. Besides, it's not like we've even talked to him! He could be a monstrosity!"
"That's rich, coming from you," Steve retorts, pecking him on the cheek. He's off before Tony can give him the 'don't get his hopes up' speech, kneeling beside the kid in seconds.
"These yours?" Steve reaches into a nearby bag of fertilizer and spreads a little around the base of the tulips. Tony can't help but smile at the way his husband is hunching himself over in a futile attempt to minimize the impressive breadth of his shoulders.
"They're an experiment." The kid's tone is apprehensive, but he doesn't edge away.
"Oh?" Steve doesn't push, just mingles the fertilizer with the dirt, working it in with his hands. The two of them are goddamn mesmerizing.
When the kid finally speaks again, it's with quiet pride. "I'm trying to crossbreed them - make something unique. Thought if it went well, I could make more, maybe sell them..."
The 'and make enough money to get out of here' is unspoken, but damn if Tony doesn't hear it anyway. His knees (and three thousand dollar suit) are in the dirt before he can stop himself. "Your, uh, grafting technique's top notch."
Steve catches his eye over the kid's head and beams. He then inclines his head in a keep going motion, and Tony's powerless not to oblige.
"They could do with a little more space, though." He gestures to the plots of dirt a few inches to the right and left of the one they're working with. "Counterintuitive, I know, since you're breeding them together, but it gives each plant room to breathe."
"Sounds nice," the kid mutters automatically, then freezes. Tony can almost see the wheels turning inside his head. Idiot. This could have been your shot. Now you've blown it. Now no one will ever want you.
Tony's hand shoots out toward the kid's shoulder, and this time he doesn't try to stop it. "Yeah," he says quietly, "I'll bet. Say, what's your name, kid?"
The kid raises his head slowly, just enough to give Tony his first proper look at his face - it floors him. Beyond the finer details - the lean, hungry look that speaks of a kid who's had a rough couple of years - it's like gazing into a mirror set twenty years back. He remembers the sheer effort of having to conceal feeling so lost, so desperate all too well.
Maybe the understanding shows on his face, because the kid stammers out, "P-Peter. It's Peter."
"Well, Peter..." Tony pats him gently on the back. "I'm Tony."
He crooks his head to the left. "And this is Steve."
Steve grins blindingly, and Tony's heart lifts at the little smile Peter sends him in return, along with a mumbled, "Nice to meet you..."
"Steve and I have a few other appointments to get to today, but would it be okay if we came to see you tomorrow?" He shoots a quick glance at Steve for confirmation - and receives an even more dazzling smile in return. "There are some lilies in my greenhouse I think you may be just the man for."
Tony estimates that the grin now spreading across Peter's face could power all of Stark Tower. "Yeah...yeah, that'd be okay." He pivots to give them each a solemn handshake before scampering off to whisper excitedly with a freckled, red-haired boy of about the same age.
"Now, who's the soft touch?" Steve smirks as he springs to his feet, then extends a hand to haul Tony to his.
"What can I say? Kid's a damn fine con artist." Tony still can't tear his eyes off the smile plastered over Peter's face. He's filled with a need to make sure it stays there. "And he's all ours."
Steve's arm crooks around his waist, tugging him in close. "You sure? What happened to 'looking'?"
He lays his head on Steve's shoulder and sighs. "I'm no match for that smile. I'll have JARVIS draw up the papers this afternoon."
"And you're really, really ready for ten years of science fairs, parent/teacher conferences, and Little League games?" Steve brushes a kiss over his forehead.
Eyes still locked on Peter, Tony says truthfully, "I don't think I've ever been so ready for something in my entire life."