The next few days fell into a comfortable routine. Steve went for a run in the park early every morning and Tony arrived right when he was starting to slow down. Together, they walked another lap with the baby and then stopped at one of the coffee shops close by.

It was nice to spend a little time with Tony every day. Especially time when they weren't arguing.

They weren't any closer to finding the baby's parents, but Steve was surprisingly okay with that. The baby's parents were probably sick with worry by now, but it was hard to think about that when Tony was practically glowing with happiness. They were still doing everything they could to locate the parents, of course. Steve would have felt guilty for giving up. But if he was a little relieved that Tony had another day with the baby, well, that was his business.

The baby seemed to be good for Tony. He still spent a few hours down in the workshop in the afternoons, but he was starting to spend more and more time on the common floor with the rest of the team, especially around mealtimes.

Steve had always been concerned by the fact that Tony seemed to survive for several days at a time on coffee and energy drinks, so it was a relief to see Tony actually eating. He had tried to check up on Tony every so often and bring him a sandwich or a muffin, but it was better to have Tony eating at the table with everyone else.

After their morning outings, Tony could usually be convinced to eat a piece of toast or a bagel while he fed the baby. And sometimes, Tony would even cook up some scrambled eggs and bacon, which was shocking to Steve at first because he had never seen Tony cook and had assumed he didn't know what he was doing. But he should have known better. Tony was making homemade baby food every morning.

Steve sat at the kitchen counter with his glass of orange juice and smiled as he watched Tony work.

Clint wandered in and blinked in surprise. "Are you seriously making baby food yourself? You have jars in the pantry."

Tony scoffed. "Those are just for the out-of-season fruits like blueberries and raspberries. Fresh fruit and vegetables have way more vitamins than the stuff in the jar. And it tastes better, too. And there's only so many flavors of baby food. I want Stephy to have variety in her diet. Only the best for my baby."

"She's not actually your baby, you know."

Tony gave him a long look. "I'm taking care of her and that means she's as good as mine right now. You think I'd give her junk just because I didn't give birth to her?"

Clint put up his hands defensively. "Not what I meant, man."

Tony snorted and spooned more pureed cantaloupe into a Tupperware. "Yeah, well, I'm going to experiment with all the foods I can find so I can figure out what Stephy likes. So far, she's into blueberries, bananas, carrots, and sweet potatoes, but she's really not a fan of green beans." He frowned at the container. "This better go down in the lab." He put a hand on Steve's shoulder as he passed the counter. "You look a little sleepy today. You should have another cup of coffee."

"Wow," Clint said, as soon as Tony was out of the kitchen."I didn't know Tony actually had omega instincts."

"Of course he does," Steve said immediately. "You haven't seen him with his bots. They all have their own personalities and he treats them like they're his children. In a way, I guess they are."

"Uh-huh," Clint said dubiously.

"And if you think about it, he takes care of us, too. He's always upgrading our weapons and armor and making sure we have everything we could ever want. We're his family now."

"You've got it bad," Natasha said from the doorway.

Steve frowned. "I've got what?"

Clint snickered. "You've got a thing for Tony, don't you? A nice little omega you can call your own?"

Steve felt his face heat. "We're friends," he insisted.

Clint thumped him on the back. "It's simple biology. The omega in him brings out the alpha in you."

"That's not how this works."

"Right," Natasha said with a secretive smile. "So, you're denying that you like this side of Tony?"

"Of course I like to see him happy," Steve said firmly. "He deserves a little happiness in his life."

"Keep telling yourself that," Clint said.

Somehow, Steve had the feeling that the two of them weren't going to let it go.

His suspicions were proven right the next morning when he awoke to his alarm blaring "I Won't Say I'm in Love".

And when he stumbled into the kitchen, Natasha and Clint were sitting around the counter giggling into their coffee.

Steve crossed his arms over his chest. "Okay, what did you do to my clock?"

"Nothing," Natasha said. But her sly smile wasn't very convincing.

"Fix it."

"Ask Tony. He's better with technology than I am."

Clint snickered.

Steve scowled. Of course he couldn't ask Tony's help. And they knew that.

"Since you did it, you need to fix it."

Natasha shook her head. "It's a good song. And maybe if you hear it every morning, you'll finally wake up and admit your feelings to yourself."

"You two think you're so clever, don't you? But you can't force people to fall in love. So, just stop it, okay?"

He channeled his frustration with the two spies into his morning run, pushing himself a good ten miles before Tony arrived at the park. But the aggravation was still there, under the surface. And he didn't realize how much of his anger was really showing through until Tony touched his shoulder and asked if he was okay.

"I'm fine," Steve said. "Just a little tired." Tired of the drama really, but Tony didn't need to know that.

Tony shook his head. "You're not at your best when you don't get enough rest. You should take a nap when we get home."

Steve raised an eyebrow. "Are you really lecturing me about the importance of sleep?"

Tony rolled his eyes. "You can laugh now, but I'll be the one laughing when you fall asleep in the middle of your afternoon workout. And I'll be taking pictures."

Steve wasn't too proud to listen to advice, especially coming from Tony. The man was terrible at taking care of himself, but he had become surprisingly intuitive to everyone else's needs. So, if Tony thought taking a nap would help, Steve was going to take a nap.

He lay in bed for a few minutes, staring up at the ceiling. "Jarvis, would you be willing to wake me up tomorrow morning so I don't have to use my alarm clock?"

"Certainly, Captain. Five a.m. as usual?"

"Perfect. Thanks, Jarvis." He threw the alarm clock at the wall, gratified by the way it instantly smashed into pieces.

He felt a little better the next morning woken up by Jarvis' gentle, "Captain, it is now 5 a.m. It is time to wake up" instead of loud, blaring music. But his mood dropped again over breakfast. Clint and Natasha spent most of the time making faces at him across the table. Natasha fluttered her eyelashes and Clint made kissy faces and jerked his thumb in Tony's direction.

Luckily, Tony seemed completely oblivious to the whole thing. He was too invested in feeding the baby to really pay attention to anything else.

After breakfast, Steve was eager to get away from them, but Clint grasped his arm before he could head out of the kitchen. "You seem a little stressed. And there's no better form of stress relief than video games."

"Call of Duty is still outlawed," Tony warned without looking up from his cereal.

Steve sighed. The last time Bucky had been over for a visit, he had had one of his panic attacks after watching Clint and Tony play. It would probably be another month before he would work up the courage to return to the Tower, but nobody wanted to take the chance of freaking him out again.

Clint shrugged. "We'll play something mild. Just in case."

Steve let himself be dragged into the den and pushed down onto the couch. He took up his controller, still feeling aggravated by the whole thing.

"Come on, Cap," Clint said. "This is supposed to be a fun game. Lighten up."

"How am I supposed to have fun when you keep teasing me?"

"We're just trying to help you out."

"I don't want your help," Steve ground out. He swung the Wii controller in a wide arc. It wasn't as satisfying as hitting a punching bag, but it would do for now.

"Jesus. Take it easy with that thing."

Out of the corner of his eye, Steve saw Tony wander into the room, muttering to himself. Clint nudged him in the side, but Steve refused to look up.

"You're no fun," Clint sighed. He tapped a few buttons on the controller and brought up another game. "This is a good one. What do you say, Steve?"

"Whatever."

Clint rolled his eyes. "Maybe you'll have a better time if your boyfriend plays with us."

Steve's eyes flicked to Tony, who had been examining the bookcase for the last fifteen minutes.

"Yep, that's a great idea," Clint said cheerfully. "Hey, Tony. Come play a couple rounds."

Tony turned, the baby slung low in his arms.

Clint winced. "Sorry, man. Didn't see you had Steph."

"No, it's cool. I'm the master of multitasking." Tony settled down on the couch and adjusted the baby on his lap. "So, what are we playing anyway?"

"Mario Party. You can play one-handed, right?"

The baby wrapped both hands around the Wiimote and tried to jam it in her mouth.

"No, no, no, sweetheart." Tony gently pried it out of her hands. "Yeah, sure. There's a couple easy games I could play."

They went through the list of mini games and picked out all the ones that didn't require swinging the Wiimote too vigorously. They were mostly puzzle games, but Steve was better at those anyway.

And eventually, he started to enjoy playing. Somewhere along the way, Clint had wandered off to get a snack and hadn't come back so it was just Tony. Steve was surprised when Bruce poked his head in the room to announce that he had made chili if anyone was ready for lunch.

Tony stretched and got to his feet, balancing the baby back on his hip. "Not bad for your first try," he said with a grin.

Steve snorted. "If you recall, I beat you a few times."

"And if you recall, I was playing one-handed."

"Excuses, excuses."

Tony's eyes gleamed. "So, you beat me once or twice. That doesn't mean a thing."

"How about a rematch, then? Right after lunch."

"Perfect," Tony said. "Let me put down the baby for her afternoon nap and then I am all yours, Cap."

Steve grinned. "Bring it on."

It was hard to believe that playing video games could be so draining, but after dueling with Tony off and on throughout the day, Steve was left with the well-worn feeling of satisfaction that usually only came after a heavy workout. After the late evening session of Super Smash Bros, Steve was ready to call it a night.

It felt like he had barely fallen asleep when he was roughly shaken awake. He blinked at the figure standing beside the bed.

"Tony? What's wrong? Did something happen?"

Tony took a deep breath. "I'm going into heat."

Steve's eyes widened. "You actually have heats?"

He cursed his stupidity. Of course Tony would have heats. He was an omega, for crying out loud. But Steve had always assumed Tony was on suppressants because in all the time he had been at the Tower, he had never actually seen him go through a heat cycle.

Tony smiled nervously. "It came as a surprise to me, too. I haven't had a heat in a year."

"A year?" Steve repeated incredulously. "Aren't you supposed to go into heat-"

"Every two or three months, yeah." Tony drummed his fingers over the arc reactor. "But after all the years of partying, the shit that went down in Afghanistan, and then the palladium poisoning, well, let's just say my body's gotten pretty fucked up over the years."

"Are you going to be okay?"

"It's nothing. Just a hormone imbalance."

"Can't you get that fixed?"

"Look," Tony said quickly. "I don't wanna talk right now. Just, oh my god this is the worst timing ever, but I need your help."

"Whatever you need" Steve said. "Want me to call someone?"

Tony shook his head. "There isn't anybody. I just need you to fuck me, okay? You're not a virgin, are you? Please tell me you're not a virgin."

Steve grasped Tony's shoulders. "Relax. I know what I'm doing. I used to help Bucky through his heats back when he was..."

Well, back when he was a fully functional omega. Back before the monsters at Hydra started experimenting on him. Bucky might one day recover from all the psychological trauma, but he'd never be able to have children and would probably never go through heat again.

"Cap?" Tony prodded.

Steve shook himself. When he looked up, Tony was sitting at the foot of his bed, stark naked.

Well then.

Steve shed his pajama pants and pressed Tony down against the bed. He didn't smell as strong as omegas usually did in heat, but Steve could see the need in his glassy eyes and the sheen of sweat on his skin.

Tony wrapped his legs around Steve's waist and pulled him closer."Oh, Steve," he said in awed voice. "You're so big." He shifted a little and his eyes fluttered shut. "Just what I needed."

Steve stroked Tony's thigh. "Whatever you need," he repeated.

His mother had taught him how to be a good alpha. Heats were all about the omega. His own desires came second. So he listened to Tony's pleas for more, faster, harder until the genius cried out and came.

Tony sagged back against the bed with a contented sigh.

"Feel okay?"

"For now." He yawned. "Can I stay here the night just in case?"

"Of course," Steve said.

"Ah, you're awesome." Tony snuggled into his chest and quickly drifted off to sleep.

Steve caught himself before he brushed a hand over Tony's cheek. It was just heat sex, he reminded himself. It didn't mean anything for Tony.