Hoppipolla is a song by Sigur Ros, as well, and it's pretty good. You should go give it a listen.
Written to: Flashback - Calvin Harris, crosspost from AO3
Hoppipolla: Jumping into puddles.
Steve certainly hopes that Thor and Loki are having a good time sailing around the West Indies. A few days after they left, when it was time for Steve to put Modi down to sleep for the night, the baby had squirmed around and started to whimper, looking around for his mama or his papa. Steve was a good person to be with, to be sure, but Modi, of course, had to wonder where his parents were, and didn't seem to comprehend the idea of a honeymoon, and certainly not one without him.
"Your mama and papa are in the Caribbean," Steve had tried to explain hundreds of times over, but Modi kept looking around and pouting and whimpering until he finally managed to cry himself into an exhausted sleep. By that time, Steve was far too tired to get up to go to his own room, and had fallen asleep in the armchair by the crib. Tony had teased him to no end once the engineer discovered a sleeping Steve, his head pillowed on his hand, sitting slumped over in the chair while Modi shook his silver rattle furiously and screamed at the tall blonde person to hurry up and feed him already.
After the first fifteen minutes, Tony had come in to see what all the ruckus was about, had seen Steve, and had been teasing him ever since.
It had begun to rain outside, and the deluge didn't seem ready to stop anytime soon. Modi seems to be comforted by the silver streaks of rain rolling down the window by his bassinet, and pats at the window with tiny hands, leaving little fingerprint smudges all over the glass as he babbles at the storm outside. Steve wonders if it is because the rain reminds him of his father.
Modi laughs, claps his hands as a strike of thunder crashes outside, the lightning bolt lighting up his face a few moments later. He points out the window, looks at Steve questioningly, slaps against the glass.
"Do you want to go outside?" Steve asks, and he can swear Modi nods. "It's raining now, you might get sick."
Modi frowns at him - and how can Steve not be reminded of Loki, it's impossible, with that expression - and points out the window again, demanding.
"You can't even walk."
Modi rolls his eyes, puffs out his cheeks, and Steve swears that babies are not supposed to be doing that, not even Asgardian ones, as Modi floats out of his crib and over to the door. Modi flings out a little arm, pointing outside, and Steve sighs, rubs his eyes and hopes that he is still dreaming, before walking over and opening the balcony doors for him.
As he steps outside, Modi's little hand firmly clasped in his own, Steve is gladdened to find that the rain is a warm summer rain, painting their skin with softness. Modi floats himself down directly into a puddle, dragging Steve along with him, and Steve sighs but obliges, sitting down firmly in the puddle that has gathered on the balcony floor.
"You like the water?" Steve asks, but Modi doesn't answer. He is far too entranced with splashing at the water around him and giggling as his blonde curls grow damp and fall into his face.
Steve sits back, watches Modi splashing away with a smile on his face.
Later that night, after Steve has bathed and fed and clothed Modi again, the baby falls asleep without a fuss, exhausted.
Steve yawns, stretches, thinks that perhaps tonight he'll be able to make it back to his bed.
He doesn't, and the next morning, Tony just smirks at Steve's sleeping form, picks up Modi, and carries him to the kitchen to feed him.