"You'll take good care of him, right, Natasha?" Steve worried, running his fingers through his son's hair.
The boy rolled his eyes. "Papa, I'm almost ten. I can take care of myself. Right, Dad?" the boy turned to his other father, Tony, Tony nodded.
"Look, Peter. If something happens to me, or papa, or- God forbid, both of us, you are going to need to be taken care of. I know that you're a big boy, but sometimes even big boys need taking care of." Tony glanced lovingly at his husband. "I know I did."