"'Happy birthday, to you! Happy birthday, to you!'"
With Atticus latched onto Steve's nipple, Bucky carried a tray over to him on the sofa. It wasn't a secret that his husband had made him breakfast. He was very well aware of it. But for the excited toddlers, he acted surprised.
"Oh my!" Steve comically widened his eyes, "Is all of this for me?"
Bucky chuckled and the soon-to-be six year old and three year old continued loudly singing, "'Happy birthday, dear papa! Happy birthday, to you!'"
Affectionately patting over Kit's back while he nursed, Steve said, "Oh wow! Oh me, oh my!"
Hugging Finn with his free arm, Steve kissed the top of his head, "Thank you, so much!"
Finn beamed and pressed a kiss to his stubbly cheek. Next, Steve hugged Oliver and – just like with Finn – kissed the top of his head. Before he could verbally thank the little boy, Oliver encouraged, "Make a wish!"
"Make a wish?" Steve good-naturedly scoffed. Ruffling Oliver's floppy brown hair, Steve asked, "I have everything I want right here!"
"Papa," Oliver loudly sighed while Bucky playfully rolled his eyes at Steve's antics.
"Fine," Steve dramatically sighed. Pausing, Steve thought about his wish. The only thing that came to mind was, ma, keep Rory safe, then blew out the number three and number six candles.
Dear lord, Steve scoffed at himself, am I really that old? And really the excited toddlers and the milk-drunk two month old was answer enough, but not nearly as much as the crow's feet at the corners of his eyes and the few gray stray hairs sprouting on his head. Steve might've loved to tease his husband and call him an old man, but Steve wasn't that much younger.
"Happy birthday, doll," Bucky kissed his temple as he set the tray down on the chaise. The boys started hopping around when the PJ Masks' characters changed into their superhero garb, and Steve brought Kit up to his shoulder so he could burp him.
"Want me to take him?" Bucky offered, holding his arms out, as though he already knew the answer.
And since Steve willingly handed him over, he definitely knew.
Happily, Bucky placed Kit on his shoulder and started patting his back, helping the infant release some of his gas. Meanwhile, Steve cut into the fluffy short stack. Loving the cake mix pancakes and knowing that the boys had chosen them because of how colorful they were. And Steve adored that about his sons and wanted to help that creativity blossom and flourish.
As Steve reached for a strip of crispy turkey bacon, Ollie reached for it too. Playfully, he narrowed his eyes at his oldest son, but let him have it. And since Oliver took a piece, Finn wanted one too. So, Steve handed it over.
"That's the good thing about our boys," Bucky teased, "They're always hungry."
Playfully, Steve complained, "Yeah, I've noticed. They're growing boys."
Cuddling with Atticus, Bucky asked, "Want me to make you some more bacon?"
A soft smile tugged at his lips as he watched his husband with their baby. Simply stroking over the two month old's back, marking him occasionally even though he wasn't able to differentiate them yet. It was still soothing and got them accustomed to being marked.
As Bucky nuzzled and scented that happy pup scent, Steve shook his head, "No, it's fine."
"That's good," Bucky slipped into his baby talk. Atticus lifted his head, still a little wobbly, but Bucky didn't mind. Not even when Kit accidentally headbutted his prominent jaw. "Aww, is someone tired? Huh? How about a new diaper and then a nap?"
Steve shook his head, but the smile stayed on his face. Adoring the way his husband loved their children. Feeling that affection through the bond was one of Steve's favorite things. Especially when it was directed at their pups.
"Papa, how come Kit sleeps so much?" Ollie asked, hopping onto the sofa cushion beside Steve once Bucky stood and carried Kit into the boys' room.
"Because he's a baby," Steve shrugged, "Babies need lots and lots of sleep."
"Did Finn?" Oliver curiously questioned as though not entirely believing his papa.
"Yup," Steve lowered his voice and leaned closer as though he was going to tell the little brunet a secret. Eagerly, Oliver leaned closer, and Steve whispered, "And so did you."
"Really?"
Steve nodded, "Really, really. And I bet even me and daddy did too."
Shocked, his eyes widened as though imagining his fathers as babies was too bizarre. Steve leaned over to kiss his forehead before getting back to his meal. Ollie slouched on the sofa, thinking. That old Rogers determination clear in the furrow of his brow.
"Will I have a baby?"
"If you want to," Steve smiled at him. Seeing the way that the little boy was with his brothers, he knew that Ollie would make a great father. And that felt like a birthday wish all on its own.