#s/teve was his peak steve

[wcrldliar]

catws is still singlehandedly the best mcu film

[nametakensff]

Ummmmmm… ⏰ for Steve??

Thank you so much for the 'Inopportune' prompt, anon! 🥰 Ended up writing 6.2k of S/teve suffering a torturous stuck sneeze that decided to make an appearance at the worst time imaginable 😇

S/teve has been trying to convince the stubborn tickle in his nose to form into a sneeze for hours. It just so happens that he will get his wish, but only when a stunning girl shows up to his work and takes an unprecedented amount of interest in his tickly nose

~~~~~

Content:

M sneezes, M/F (OC made up solely for the purpose of this fic lol), Stuck sneezes, buildups, false starts, manual inducing, tissues, platonic S/tobin, S/teve has a latent sneeze fetish, F OC has a sneeze fetish, sneezing from perfume, scent sensitivity, mentions of photic sneezing, mentions of cold sneezing, sneezing on someone, spray, a little bit of mess but nothing too graphic, sneezing in hands, nose rubbing, embarrassment/humiliation, mentions of masturbation and sex but only a little, S/teve has huge sneezes that he absolutely cannot control

Not explicitly NSFW but pretty close lol. Extremely fetishy

Minors DNI!

Steve had needed to sneeze all. Fucking. Day. It had started the moment he’d rolled out of bed – a distant tickle, not subtle enough to ignore but certainly not sharp enough to give him any kind of release. It was cloying and insistent, and no manner of nose rubbing, sniffling or snorting was doing anything to appease it. He’d sniffled repeatedly as he got dressed and brushed his teeth, hoping to fan the flames and stoke it into fruition. He’d rubbed the tip of his nose back and forth in the way that sometimes helped tip him over the edge of a sneeze just shy of completion. But no. Nothing. All he earned for his efforts was a couple of irritated tears rolling down his cheeks and an unpleasant burning sensation in his nostrils, as if the tickle was actively protesting the provocation.

He’d thought he would sneeze for sure when he’d styled his hair and inevitably inhaled his daily lungful of Farrah Fawcett hairspray fumes. It always tasted disgusting and lingered in his mouth and nose, but he was used to it. Today, the first whiff of the stuff seemed to skyrocket the dormant tickle into overdrive. His chest had jumped violently and the chemical scent seemed to drag the tickle forward through his sinuses; his nostrils began to flare.

“Hh…! HH! Hh-HAH!! HADHTT-!!”

But at the very last moment, when he’d been hanging right on the precipice of release, the sensation receded and the air in his lungs was let go with a startled, disappointed exhalation.

“God fucking dammit.” He’d muttered after several more moments of pleading with his body, eyelashes fluttering as he sniffled and panted, hoping that the manual inhalations would trigger an automatic onslaught of desperate gasps. Nope.

This tickle was definitely on his shitlist. It reared its ugly head again the second he put his car into drive. He’d white-knuckled the steering wheel, tipping his head back and taking in breath after lusty breath. God, but he needed to sneeze so badly.

Much the same as before, the tickle vanished right at the peak of his hitching, leaving him to deflate and scrub desperately at his tingling nostrils. This was fucking insane. A couple of minutes just sitting there and breathing experimentally made it clear that the mounting sensation was quite finished with him for the moment. It was still there, though, retreating back into the deepest recesses of his sinuses with a low grade buzz that left his eyes (and nose) perpetually damp. He swore and pulled out of the driveway, on his way to pick up Robin for their lengthy Saturday shift.

It was as he parked and honked the horn outside her house that the tickle made its unwelcome return. He inhaled deeply through his nostrils, alternating between sniffling and taking breaths through his mouth when that seemed to be stirring the tickle towards completion. He was far too invested in encouraging the sneeze along to care what he looked like when Robin sat down in the passenger seat, but he was sure the face he was making was ridiculous. He sat there and panted like a fucking dog, pressing his tongue against the bottom row of his teeth. Robin was silent next to him, but he could feel her eyes roving over his face as he hitched, and hitched, and hitched…

At last he bristled, one final, stuttering gasp expanding his chest to capacity and yes, he was going to sneeze, he was going to-!

“HAHHHDTTt’-!!”

He held that breath for one second, two seconds, but all at once it was withdrawing, pulling him back from that tantalising edge, bereft of release for the third time that day.

“Nooo, fuck my life!” He groaned, punching the steering wheel and pushing his nose firmly against one upraised palm, violently jostling it back and forth until an audibly damp squishing noise graced the air.

“Don’t tell me you forgot how to sneeze, Dingus?” Robin was giggling next to him, delighted at the sight of his bleary-eyed frustration.

“Haha, hilarious, Robin, thank you. No, it just won’t fucking come out. Dammit.”

He sniffled wetly, sawing a finger back and forth under his nostrils. A quick glance at himself in the front mirror made him grimace – the skin round his nose was looking increasingly irritated, pinkening in response to the repeated manhandling. All this and not even a single sneeze for his efforts.

Robin pressed a packet of tissues into his hand, and he offered a small thanks before blowing his nose. He ignored Robin’s comment about him signing up for a position in the brass section of band sans instrument and pulled away from her house.

“Have you even sneezed once?” She asked as he pocketed the tissues one-handed.

“Nope. Not one fucking sneeze.” He sighed, squeezing his eyes shut hard, for just a moment. The tickle simmered in response, as if in mockery.

“Doesn’t the sun make you sneeze?”

“Usually, first thing in the morning – but no, it should have happened by now. I have no idea what’s going on.”

“Caught a cold?”

He shook his head. He felt totally fine – the only thing wrong was the tickle, rolling through his sinuses in little waves. He blinked, and another set of tears dribbled slowly down his cheeks.

“Allergies?”

“Don’t have any. As far as I know? And nothing’s changed. I just woke up this way. Fuck, it burns, man!”

He reached up and bullied his nose back and forth with a balled-up fist this time, hoping the more aggressive approach would force the tickle to crest. All it did was hurt, and cause him to miss their turn.

By the time they’d pulled into the parking lot at Family Video, he had suffered two more agonising false starts, preceded by lengthy, dramatic buildups that made it a bitch to keep driving, to say the least. He slammed the car door behind him much harder than he would ever allow anyone else to do and strode angrily towards the building, but only made it a few steps before the tickle began to tease him all over again.

He peered up at the sun, knowing it would be useless but pleading with his body all the same. He gasped as the tickle ground against his sinuses, twisting his face into an expression of utter desperation. He’d never wanted to sneeze so badly before, never known his body to both hurtle towards and abjectly prevent the release of it in this cruel back and forth of “will he, won’t he”.

Well, he wouldn’t. Not this time, just like all the other times prior. His breath stuttered, a huge, definitive gasp, but even as it was sucked into his lungs he knew it wasn’t meant to be. It left him in an equally dramatic exhalation, immediately followed by an aggravated “Fuck!!”

Robin was next to him, patting his arm and steering him inside the building. He let her, waiting patiently whilst she unlocked the door and urged him through it.

“You feeling okay, buddy?” She asked, looking amused but genuinely concerned. He sighed and waved her off.

“Yeah, Robs, I’m fine. Kind of losing my mind a little but what else is new, you know?”

He meant to flash a reassuring smile her way, but the lingering tickle twisted it into a partial grimace. She snorted a goofy little laugh in response, and it was enough to make him laugh as well, though that also came out sounding more like a choking cough.

“I’ll cover phones and front desk today, okay, stud?”

“Thank you.”

~~~~~~

This shift was taking forever. Normally the passage of time was assuaged by dealing with customers and joking with Robin, but he was able to do neither, constantly assaulted with the prickling burn of the tickle. It had been hours since he woke up and he still hadn’t managed to sneeze. The false starts were, quite frankly, embarrassing beyond belief. He couldn’t help the way his expression crumpled, the gasps he sucked in, the way his entire body was immobilised by the building desire to sneeze. The best he could do was make sure he had his back turned on any potential spectators. A little girl had pointed and laughed at him, yanking at her mother’s skirt and announcing gleefully “Look, mommy! Funny faces!” That had sure fucking sucked. It totally didn’t make him want the floor to open up and swallow him at all.

It had taken one particularly aggressive false start – one he had been convinced was the real deal, so forceful that his body had been tossed forward with the half-sneeze – to piss him off entirely. He blushed right to the roots of his hair at the almost echoing silence after a monstrously loud “HUUUHHDTT’-!” had torn its way out of his throat, the sneeze cruelly fizzling into nothingness only after he had thoroughly embarrassed himself. Luckily, there had only been an older couple on the other side of the store at that particular moment – their conversation had vanished along with his sneeze, and he made a point of ignoring their curious gazes as he skulked into the back.

This was getting ridiculous. It had been ridiculous for hours, but he wasn’t sure how much more of the abject humiliation and fruitless buildups he could take. His nostrils flared involuntarily, rhythmically twitching like a bunny rabbit as the promise of a sneeze continued to tickle and tease the sensitive walls of his sinuses. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, leaning against the small counter where Keith would fix himself an endless stream of PB&J sandwiches. Steve noticed that he hadn’t even bothered to put the loaf away from his shift the night prior, and half was already gone. Hungry work, he guessed.

Absentmindedly regarding the bread, his hands reached out to secure the small metal wire that Keith had left lazily untwisted. He didn’t like Keith, but he wasn’t enough of an asshole to let the man’s bread go stale out of spite. It was in that moment, as his fingertips brushed over the tie in question, that an idea lit up his brain.

Looking over his shoulder in case Robin made an appearance, he undid the tie entirely and pocketed it. He didn’t know why the thought of what he was about to do felt so salacious, but his heart was beating in his chest all the same. He made his way into the employee bathroom, locked the door behind him, and with sweating palms, extracted the tie and unfurled it into its full extension.

He looked at that little wire for a moment. Why oh why was he feeling so fucking nervous? It was a simple enough idea – stick the thing up his nose and wiggle it around until he made himself sneeze, replace the wire, then back to work. He wanted to sneeze so badly he could hardly focus on anything else, and yet – this felt…naughty. Dangerous. Like he was pulling his cock out at work and going to town. Which was entirely ridiculous, because it was just sneezing. Maybe the suggestive notion of inserting a phallic object into a hole? He huffed out a disbelieving giggle at that.

“Fucking stupid.” He mumbled, bringing the wire up to his nose and hesitating for just a moment.

Steve started out by teasing the flaring rim of one nostril, getting used to the sensation. It was almost immediately too much to bear, and he yanked his head back, eyes watering. It seemed that the best way to do this was to get it over with, no dragging things out. He paused for a second longer, almost giddy with anticipation, before slipping the wire back into his nose and pushing up until he was met with resistance – the very back of his nostril.

“Hh’HAHH!!”

His chest jumped with a sudden inhale – the inside of his nose was so, so irritated. The tiniest little twitch of the wire elicited an even bigger, lustier gasp of air.

“HUHHHH!!”

God. His heart was fucking pounding, eyes streaming tears as the wire bullied the sensitive walls, driving him mad in response. He’d never known a tickle like this before – he was entirely at its mercy, barely able to continue stoking it into completion with the subtle motions of his hand. He reached out, bracing himself on the wall with one trembling hand. It was coming, at last – he was finally, finally going to sneeze. His eyebrows lifted up, nostrils flaring to capacity, mouth dropping open as he took in one last humongous gasp of air, and –

“Steve?”

He nearly jumped out of his skin at the sudden voice and gentle rapping on the bathroom door, dropping the wire as he shuddered in place. His heart had already going haywire in his chest, but now he swore his soul had almost left his body. The absolute shock, the fear – it was enough to terrify not only him, but the budding sneeze as well. He exhaled shakily, totally sneeze-less, feeling so frustrated he could cry.

“Yeah, I’m in here!” He grumbled, paranoid and hoping his voice didn’t somehow reveal to Robin the embarrassing nature of what he’d just been doing. He ignored the thought that it felt like the time his mom walked in on him jacking off in middle school.

“Okay, sorry!” She sounded concerned, and Steve sighed, running a hand over his face, willing himself to calm down. He sniffled, a distinctly liquid sound – the tickle continued its rampage, ever present but never enough to give him the relief he needed.

“You okay?” He offered back when he sensed her lingering. She would have heard that ridiculous false start before, watched him skulk into the back and not come back out.

“Yeah, I’m fine, just – checking in.”

“I’m fine, Robin. Promise.” He lied before blowing his nose as violently as he could, hoping in vain it would tickle enough to make him sneeze. It did not.

“Well, good. Listen, I was gonna go on lunch but I totally forgot to pack something – I’m gonna go grab a sandwich – I can get you one, too – but I just need you to cover for 15 teensy little minutes?”

He sighed.

“Yeah, it’s all good. Just go, I’ll be out in a second.”

He turned on the tap, hoping she would take the hint and leave.

“20 minutes tops!!” He heard her voice receding.

“Grab me a meatball sub!” He shouted after her. Maybe his irritability would deplete once he had the weight of a huge, greasy sandwich weighing him down and making him sleepy. At this point, he would take any kind of distraction.

He sighed again, sniffling once more and regretting it as the burning tickle brought fresh tears to his eyes, and made his way out to the front of the store.

~~~~~~

It would be just his fucking luck that within 4 minutes of Robin’s departure, one of the cutest girls he had ever seen strolled through the door and, upon witnessing Steve behind the front desk, made a beeline towards him. He willed the tickle to back the fuck off, at least enough so that he wasn’t wearing a permanent grimace of frustration.

Man, but this girl was smoking hot – he didn’t recall seeing her around, but then again, life was no longer high school and he wasn’t constantly crammed in a building with the same faces day in and day out. She didn’t look like a high schooler – she was, what, maybe a little older than him? College kid who was back in town for the holidays?  He didn’t have much longer to consider, taking in her auburn perm and the pretty lilac eye shadow she’d daubed across the corners of her eyes.

“Hi.” She said simply, placing her manicured hands on the edge of the counter. She smiled at Steve, and it was radiant. He wished she hadn’t chosen today of all days to suddenly appear in all her mouth-watering perfection.

“Hey.” He offered back, managing to neither hitch or gasp. “Do you need any assistance today?”

She slowly drummed her pretty fingers on the counter – expensive manicure, French tipped nails.

“I’m visiting my girlfriends over summer break and we’re having a pizza party. I was really hoping you might know of any decent romcoms –“ She paused for a moment, eyes flicking to his badge then back up to his face – “Steve.”

He tried so, so hard not to let the way she practically purred his name affect him, but this was feeling more and more like a wet dream by the second. The only way he knew for certain it wasn’t was the evil little tickle, prickling away and making his nostrils flare for just a moment. He hoped she hadn’t noticed but how could she not, making eyes at him like that. He reached up with a crooked finger, allowing himself the briefest of rubs before flashing her right on back with one of his best-practiced smiles.

“I’d be happy to help a customer in need, Ms…?”

“Clara. Call me Clara.”

She flipped her silky hair over her shoulder, a charming gesture that exposed the column of her elegant neck – but Steve had barely a moment to focus on it before a sudden wave of lavender smacked him in the face. She was wearing perfume – an overwhelming amount of the stuff.

Unable to help it, he coughed into an upraised fist, then used his knuckles to quell the tickle that seemed to almost explode in a fizz of sensation. He’d spent all day pleading with his body to make him sneeze, and the second it seemed to want to comply, he wanted anything but. Fuck his life. Fuck it hard.

“Ah, sorry.” He started, hoping his tone came across as easy-going and unselfconscious. “Just a touch of allergies.”

It was a lie – he had no clue what the fuck had gotten into him. Maybe he was getting sick after all – but the last thing he wanted to do was offend Clara. His response seemed to mollify her, her expression of disappointment morphing into a much more jovial countenance. He didn’t want to read into it too much, but she kind of looked a little…excited? He could work with that.

“Aw, that’s too bad.” Clara twirled a lock of her hair round her finger, looking at him with unmasked interest, eyes lidded and pupils blown. Oh, he could definitely work with that. He nodded at her.

“It’s not ideal, Clara, but I can handle it. Not gonna let a little bit of pollen stop me from providing ladies such as yourself with only the best of service.”

He smiled at her again, laying it on a little thick, hoping it would compensate for the way his nostrils kept twitching. It seemed to work like a charm – she looked positively spellbound, gently chewing on her bottom lip, eyes periodically flitting back and forth from his nose and eyes. Huh. Maybe she liked a little bit of vulnerability in her men.

“You’re a card.” She giggled back at him.

It felt good to get back into the swing of easy-going flirtation. It was almost enough for him to ignore the tickle raging in his sinuses. Almost. He sniffled, grinding the knuckle of a forefinger into the side of his nose and squinting one eye shut. It helped to prevent him from launching into another buildup, and luckily Clara seemed not to mind. She reached out to pat him conciliatorily on the arm he had rested on the counter.

“You poor thing. Got a tickle?”

The way she was looking at him right now was a look he was painfully familiar with – those were bedroom eyes she was ravishing him with. But right now? When he looked like…this? Man, who was this chick? He decided to roll with it.

“Such a tickle. It just won’t leave me alone – I’ve been sniffling all day.”

Okay, now that really seemed to work – little spots of red were starting to appear on her cheeks, visible under her expertly applied makeup. She even looked picture perfect when she blushed. He didn’t understand why she was blushing, but it was electrifying all the same.

“Enough about me, though.” He lowered the hand he had been bullying his nose with to rest on top of her own. She shuddered almost imperceptibly. “Let’s find you ladies a movie.”

~~~~~~

Clara was cool and all, but she truly didn’t seem to understand the concept of personal space. She was right up against Steve’s side as he launched into a little spiel about their most popular movies, his own recommendations, and just the odd little bit of movie trivia he’d managed to absorb from Robin that he hoped would really seal the deal of his own expertise. Clara nodded along eagerly, asking him for more details on each and every movie. He got the distinct feeling that she was dragging this out and keeping him talking on purpose. He was happy to oblige, but the malingering tickle was clearly fed up with being ignored for as long as it had been.

He’d launched into two separate buildups already, turning away from Clara and burying his face in the upraised collar of his polo shirt. Each had ended with more embarrassingly loud false starts before he inevitably deflated, turning back to her with an apology and a sheepish smile. Each time she had assured him it was no problem at all, edging even closer. Her pupils were huge.

“So, what are you thinking?” Steve smiled at her.

“Hmm?”

“About the movies? Any idea which ones?”

“Oh! Umm…maybe those ones?” She seemed a little bashful about the suddenly all too obvious way she’d been staring. It was nothing new to him – girls staring at him like he was a total dreamboat. It was extremely flattering, no matter how often it happened.

“Sure thing.”

He reached over her shoulder to grab one of the cassettes she was pointing towards – they were stood almost flush together, the way Clara had angled herself between him and the wall shelves. There was hardly any wriggle room, the corner of a perpendicular row of shelves pressing into his back. Ordinarily, this would have been a simple manoeuvre – a tantalising moment of fleeting physical connection, video tape obtained, guaranteed swooning on any girl’s part. But Clara, instead of melting back against his chest, spun round in surprise, looking up at him with heated eyes.

He wouldn’t have minded this, her breasts almost pushing against his chest and her pretty face so close to his, but that overwhelming lavender scent…It was almost unbearable. Not to mention that her squirming as he leaned forward meant he’d gotten a faceful of tickly, soft perm, just as saturated with the cloying floral scent as the rest of her. The omnipresent tickle exploded with renewed sensation at the double combo of internal and external stimulation.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. He was gonna sneeze. It was so imminent and so overpowering, and he was trapped between Clara and the shelves. Even without the building pressure rendering him immobile it would have required an awkward amount of wriggling to escape his current situation without pressing right up against her. And maybe he would have, if he wasn’t at fucking work, if he wasn’t about to sneeze all over this beautiful fucking girl. He shuddered with a sudden, uncontrollable gasp, mouth dropping open in a desperate gape. He was surprised he didn’t lose all control then and there, but he managed to hold back through sheer willpower. He turned his watering, rapidly closing eyes on her and tried to utter a warning, a plea that she get herself out of his way before it was too late.

“Hh-! C-Clara, I’m g-hh!! Gonnahh-hHH!! HUHH!!”

It was too much. Hours and hours of teasing torment, the tickle playing with him, bringing him to the peak of release then pulling him back over and over – it was all about to come to an end. He’d done all he could, he’d warned her; now he simply had to give in and let his body work himself up to that long sought-after release.

His nostrils flared to capacity, the round ellipses of them even more apparent in contrast to the sleek, pointed shape of his nose at rest. His eyebrows rose in a beatific acceptance of the approaching climax; his mouth hung gently open, pink tongue curling as he gasped. His lungs filled with air until they could fill no more.

“HhUH! HUHH! HUHHDTt-!!”

He couldn’t help the way his chest swelled and jumped, expanding with every desperate inhale, but even through the sneeze-induced paralysis he could have sworn Clara moved closer still. There was enough room for her slender figure to weasel her way around him, enough time as the mounting sensation rendered him frozen, but no. They were almost face to face. It was mortifying – he couldn’t believe what was about to happen. But he hurtled towards the climactic release all the same, and for a few seconds whilst he held onto a final inhalation in statuesque serenity, his mind turned blank and all he could focus on was the sweet anticipation of a truly colossal surrender.

And so, it was happening. It was finally happening. He was vaguely aware of Clara pushing her body up against him, nuzzling into him, and then it was exploding out of him in a dizzying rush of air and spray.

“HUUUUHHHHRISSSHHHHAHHHH!!!”

Ohh fuck. That felt so fucking good. He trembled with it, forced forward and into Clara, bracing himself with one hand on the wall shelf. He barely had a moment to luxuriate in the release before the tickle flared again, even more insistently, and he was gasping and cringing into a second monstrous sneeze.

“AEGK’TISSSSSSHHHHHHH’IEWWW!!”

That one felt even better. The pleasure of an itch well scratched sent a delicious commotion of goosebumps up and down the skin of his arms. But again, he wasn’t finished. He inhaled deeply, lustily, surrendering entirely and beckoning in a third explosion.

“HAHHH’YISHHHHHIEWWWW!!”

He let it do as it would with him, rocking him forward and sending a shiver down his spine. He almost moaned at its conclusion but was shocked to feel yet another sneeze beginning to swell. He tilted his head back, inviting it in – when he was brought back into himself by a gentle little gasp that was decidedly not his own.

Fuck. Clara. She was clinging to him now, pressed between him and the shelves. He was suddenly all too aware of her presence; the soft, fluffy hair rubbing against his cheek. He could have died of mortification. He wanted to, but his body wanted to sneeze even more. He managed to lift his shaky free hand around Clara’s shoulder and up to his face, just a moment too late as the fourth barrelled through him. It doused his fingers with a heavy spray as they lingered a foot away from his flaring nostrils.

“TISHHHHHHHHH’UUUU!!”

He snuffled, finally bringing his hand to face for the next one – and just in time. The harsh sneeze brought not only a fresh dousing of spray, but the dams of his sinuses finally burst, and a splattering of light mess graced his palm.

“HH’RIIISSSSSCHHHH!! HAH’AEGK’TSCHHHHIEWWW!!”

That sneeze brought a friend, just as messy and violent. God, would it ever end? He was getting lightheaded from the sheer force of the releases, in equal amounts pleasurable and exhausting. He sniffled hard, the sound thick and crackling. He felt like if he could just get the residual tickle out in one last, huge explosion, he could put an end to it. Even as the sneeze built, he continued to sniffle, fanning the flames of the tickle and increasing the irritation beyond what he thought his body capable. This was going to be big, even for him.

“HAHHHdTT-!! HAHHHH’GITTSCHHHHHH’IEWWW!!!”

Holy fuck. He couldn’t help the little moan of pleasure that escaped him afterwards, clutching his dripping hand to his face. He stood there, almost swaying, as he came back to himself. What a fucking fit – definitely the worst he’d had in recent history, even worse than the ones brought on by the cold he’d managed to catch last Christmas.

After a couple of seconds of sheer, self-indulgent bliss, he realised Clara was embracing him, rubbing a tentative hand up and down his back as he practically leant over her, pressing her into the shelf. He hadn’t realised quite how much the sneezes had thrown him forward and backed her up – she was practically sandwiched in place. His face flushed and he withdrew in a sudden clumsy scramble, ignoring the pain of the shelf that prodded into his back and managing at last to put some space between them.

Clara was red in the face, looking absolutely dumbfounded. It was bad enough, that he had practically smothered her at his place of work, but worst of all, his eyes could make out the distinctive darkened patches of moisture all over her pretty pink blouse. His sneezes, all over the fabric, so damp that it was almost clinging to her skin in places. Now he really wanted to die.

“Fuck, I am so, so sorry-!” He scrambled for a clean tissue one handed, his other hand still precariously pressed against his messy face, then started dabbing ineffectively at the saturated fabric of her blouse once he managed to yank one out of his pocket.

“No, it’s – it’s fine, honestly.” She said, gently taking the tissue from him and resuming his work, and he just had to take her word for it. She looked shy, but not disgusted. If anything, she looked – no. Surely the fuck not.

He extracted another tissue and turned away from her, grimacing as he wiped his hands and face clean. He hesitated for a short moment, glancing around the store and finding it empty – sweet Jesus in heaven, thank you. It took him several tissues to successfully blow his nose, but once he’d finished, he felt brand new. Completely purged of the tickle, he was an irritation-free man.

“Bless you.”

He turned around, a fresh wave of mortification crashing over him. The damage to her shirt had barely been dented by the measly little tissue. He’d effectively super-soaked her. It took all his remaining energy not to cringe and flee into the back of the store.

“I’m so sorry, Clara. I totally sneezed all over you. I promise I’m not getting sick. Shit.”

She smiled at him as he fumbled over his words, appearing not the least bit worried about getting sick at all.

“Honestly, Steve. It’s okay.”

He caught himself just before he cocked his head at her like a dog. This was not a normal response to being sneezed and spit on. Maybe she was just really, really kind. The alternative was much more ridiculous – he wouldn’t entertain it.

“You’re being so nice about this but I feel like such a jerk. I’ve been needing that all day and I just – couldn’t control it.”

“I could tell.” She giggled, looking more than okay to be in receipt of that information. Okay, so maybe she was more than just kind. He smiled back at her, relieved in more ways than one. Fuck, it had been great to sneeze, and being able to do so – making a total fucking mess of himself in front of a beautiful girl, who even seemed to like it – he would never curse his bad luck again. Deciding to test the waters a little, he rubbed a finger under his damp, flaring nostrils, delighting in the way her eyes followed the motion.

“Actually, it smells great and all but I think your perfume might be bothering me a little. Not that that’s a bad thing. I’d rather sneeze like that all day than be stuck with a tickle that won’t go away.”

He flashed her one of the cockiest grins he could muster. She looked like she was about to swoon.

“You really helped me out there.”

“Really?” She all but sighed, stepping towards him – and bringing with her a fresh wave of lavender.

“Y-yeah. Sorry, Clara, I’m gonna-!”

He managed to bring a new tissue up to his nose, quaking as an earth-shattering double raced through him and exploded into the soft paper.

“HAGK’TISSSSSSHHHH!! AESSSHHHHHUUU!! Ohh, god. Bless me.”

Clara offered him a breathy ‘Bless you’ of her own, which he thanked enthusiastically, making a show of wiping his nostrils clean. This seemed to have an almost hypnotic effect on her, broken only when he asked her if she’d still like to rent any movies.

“What?” She blinked her big, pretty eyes at him. He smiled.

“Want me to ring those movies up for you? These two, right?”

He reached for the tapes she’d been after and held them up for her to consider.

“Oh. Um. Yeah, those would be great, thanks.” She seemed embarrassed, like a spell had suddenly been broken and she finally realised she’d been making the sultriest bedroom eyes at him in the middle of an open store again.

He nodded, making his way back to the desk and gesturing for her to follow. He was almost euphoric as he updated her information on the computer. If one could experience afterglow from sneezing alone, he was definitely there. He just wanted to laze around and bask in the joy of being entirely tickle free, completely purged of all irritation. Maybe it wasn’t so bad, being teased and tormented like that, if the final result felt so damn good.

“Here you go! All set.”

He handed her the tapes with a winning smile and she took them with a little smile of her own. His eyes drifted to the speckled fabric of her blouse, still drenched with the result of his sneezing.

“Listen, I know you said you don’t mind but I still feel real awful about ruining your top. Will you let me pay for dry cleaning?”

She fixed him with another heated glance, twirling her pretty hair round her finger.

“I’d rather you use the money to take me out sometime.”

He grinned.

“Yeah? I can make that happen. You have a number I can call?”

Steve was grinning like an idiot and waving goodbye to a giggling Clara when Robin nearly made him jump out of his skin for the second time that day.

“What the fuck was that?”

“Jesus, Robin! That’s it, I’m getting you a bell.”

The irritation he intended to exude was clearly lost in translation, likely due to the fact that he couldn’t stop the smug grinning. Robin jabbed him in the ribs with her finger until he squirmed in protest.

“Who was that?”

He set about stacking tapes, enjoying the way Robin’s frustration built as he turned away from her. She poked him harder.

“Steve, tell me who that crazy hot girl was and why she was still making eyes at you even after you snotted all over her right now.”

He groaned. He mustn’t have heard her come back in – which made total sense. He could have been on another planet for how out of it that sneezing had made him.

“How long were you watching?”

“Long enough.” Robin smirked, before handing him a sandwich. He took it gratefully.

“You’re a saint, Robs.”

“Worked up an appetite?” She smirked at him, taking a bite out of her own. Keith would have chewed them out for eating out front, but Steve couldn’t care less. He practically tore into his own, getting sauce all over the tip of his nose with the sheer voracity of his bite.

“You could say that.” He mumbled round a mouthful of bread and meat. “Her name is Clara.” He offered before taking another huge bite.

“I’ve never seen her before.”

“Me neither. Think she’s from out of town, visiting friends. Didn’t really ask. College girl.”

“She was cute. And totally weird.”

“That’s a fucking understatement. I can’t believe I sneezed all over her and she still wants me take her on a date.”

“Steve, you’re great, but believe me, if I could figure out what the fuck it is you manage to do to charm these girls, I would bottle that shit and make a million in sales overnight.”

“Hmm. This felt different though. I think she – maybe liked me more? After I started sneezing? She kept giving me these eyes, Robin – and I wasn’t even trying.”

“Well,” Robin started with a gentle slap on his shoulder. “If you figure it out, let me know. Maybe all I need to do is start sneezing on the girls I like.”

“Shut up, man!” Steve called after her as she sauntered away, laughing through another huge mouthful of food.

He didn’t know what the fuck this girl’s deal was, but with any luck, she would let him know in the back of his car. Or in the back of a movie theatre. Or in her bed. And he hoped she was wearing that perfume when she did.

[dontfeeltoohot]

for s/tranger t/hings prompts, could you possibly do e/ddie having an allergic reaction to something and not being able to get away from it for a while, so s/teve and r/obin have to help him? tysm and i love your writing!!

I know I just did a dust fic but oh well. This is one of the only valid ideas I could come up with. Normally I would do like...a dog or something? But with the fact he can't get away from it, dust seems more fitting. Also...this isn't fully following the prompt, bc feelings got in the way oops. But I still hope you guys enjoy. Warning for Eddie coming out to Steve and Robin in the most anticlimactic way possible.

X X X

When he agrees to help Robin and Steve clean out the back room of Family Video after close one night, he doesn't exactly think about the fact that cleaning usually means being subjected to dust. It's not that he would have declined if he'd realized, but it would have been nice to at least know to pop a Dimetapp or grab an extra bandana.

As Steve swings the door open to the back area, Eddie looks around curiously. He's never had a real job, always having been able to rely on selling drugs as an easy way of income. He's not sure what he's expected, but the dingy and dirty looking room with stacks of VHS tapes everywhere, boxes of candy in another and some promo signs against a wall isn't it. There's a table and three chairs in another corner, and Eddie plops himself down in one as the other two start moving tapes out of the way.

"Uhh, Munson, you gonna help?"

He looks up and his eyes narrow, staring at Harrington with a challenging look.

"I said I'd help you clean, not move things." Score one for Munson. He gives the other man a smirk and huffs when I broom is thrust towards him, hitting his arm and chest.

"There, then. Get cleaning."

Robin snorts and Eddie huffs in annoyance. Standing, the guitarist takes his signature leather jacket off, revealing a white and black striped t-shirt, something that almost looks too common place on him, considering all the other things he wears. Secretly, it's one of his favorite shirts- it makes him look hot, and he's worn it specifically for Harrington. Expertly, he gathers his curls in one hand from the nape of his neck upwards, then slips a hair tie on, a few curls falling and framing his face. He looks up, tongue peaking out of his mouth from concentration, and sees Harrington staring at him. Score two.

Grumbling to himself, Eddie starts working from the far left corner inwards, methodically sweeping the broom to catch all the small amounts of dirt, dust and garbage against it. Barely five minutes into his newly appointed task, the thin man feels an itch blossom in the back of his head. Ignoring it, Eddie keeps going, sweeping the crap into the muddle of the room, then going to the next corner. By the time the broom has officially swept half of the room, the oldest man can feel himself starting to sniffle, making him swipe his nose with his wrist more than a few times.

Each sniffle seems to make the tickle in his head a little worse. Eddie pauses the movement of his broom and grabs the bandana he keeps in his back pocket, pressing it to his face so he can wipe his nose and eyes. He's aware he stands there for a solid thirty seconds just rubbing, but his whole face is itchy, and he only stops when a hand sits on his shoulder. His bandana gets shoved back in his pocket, his eyes red and slightly puffy underneath now.

"Are you okay?" Robin looks worried, her brows drawn up, nose scrunched just slightly, making her freckles stand out more.

"Hmm? Oh yeah. Just kind of got lost in thought. Being around Harrington will do that to a guy," he says the last sentence louder, voice sweet and over the top with theatricality. Steve for his part blushes and rolls his eyes.

"Yeah yeah Munson, quit being such a sweet talker."

Eddie grins, thankful the banter stays light and Steve never seems to be weirded out by it. Maybe that means something, but he doesn't even want to give himself that flicker of hope. Steve Harrington could never like him like that. Sniffling again, Eddie rubs his face awkwardly on his stripe-clad shoulder, then gets back to his job, sweeping as though its his soul purpose in life.

As Robin and Steve finish clearing out the room so they can really scrub things, the guitarists nose gives an irritated twitch. He pointedly ignores it, trying to also not pay attention to the dust he can actually see getting kicked up as he sweeps. Finally, his nose is tired of sharing attention with everything else, and the prickle in his sinuses blooms. The itchy feeling is all encompassing, and it takes everything in Eddie not to just drop the broom.

"h'ghNXT! ih'gkst! h'Ngkkt'uh!"

Congestion explodes in his head, like it's been waiting for a sneeze to knock it all loose. He rubs his face with his bandana again, looking up to see neither of the others in the room with him. Thank god. He doesn't need Harrington mom-ing him to death. By the time he's almost done, Robin and Steve are back in the room, talking about Vickie and what Robin's going to do about her. Eddie freezes.

"Wait...you're into girls?"

The other two fall silent, and Steve steps forward, suddenly looking much more menacing than Eddie thinks he's ever seen, even fighting demobats.

"Is that a problem Munson?" The way he says his last name makes Eddie take a step back, raising his hands.

"Woah woah woah Harrington. I come in peace, Jesus. Don't bite my head off, leave that to Ozzy and the bats. I was juhhst asking for clarification."

Eddie scrubs at his nose, rubbing it upwards enough with the neck hem of his shirt that it leaves a small crease on the bridge, making it a little more pink than it already is. Steve stares at him, expression unreadable.

"Yes, Eddie. I'm into girls. It's why Steve and I don't date."

Wow. It all makes so much sense. He's about to say his thoughts out loud, but his nose has other ideas, once again demanding attention that's more than just a rub. Eddie contorts his face as the buzzing in his head grows, and then he's pulling the neck hem of his shirt back against his face.

"ihgNXT! hh'igKST! h'GXT'uh!"

"Bless you," Robin offers when Steve continues to just stare. Eddie swallows nervously and sniffles, wishing he had tissues to blow his nose. He could use his bandana, but that would make it pretty much unusable for the rest of the time spent in here.

"Harrington...I really don't care if Buckley's gay," Eddie tries again, rubbing his right eye. "I don't know why you'd think I'm homophobic, I'm gay too," he frowns a little. Not how he'd imagined coming out to them, but better now than never, he supposes. Before anyone can even take a breath to start to talk, the guitarist is turning away.

"h'Kgxt! ihh'gKT! ih'KSTCH'uh! Fuck," Eddie sniffles loudly and rubs his face again.

"You're gay too?" Robin's voice wavers just barely, but Eddie picks up on it and nods.

"Queer as a three dollar bill, as they say," he smiles in reassurance, then finally gives up and blows his nose into his bandana, cheeks heating up- he doesn't want to gross anyone out.

"Bless you. You sick or something?" Steve finally talks, and Eddie guesses this development will just be something they don't talk about. He'd rather that then get ridiculed by the man. He knows he's fine with Robin, but being the same gender and coming out is different, there's more struggle for power.

"Allergies," he shrugs it off and wipes his face with the same bandana he's just used to blow his nose, then grimaces a little.

"God, you're like a child. Hold on..." Steve rummages around in a cabinet and pulls out a new, still sealed box of tissues. Eddie grins.

"Thanks Harrington."

[moonstruckbucky]

Chaleur [one shot]

Summary: Steve is no stranger to pain.

Pairing: Pre-serum!Steve Rogers x fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ explicit smut. Oral sex (m + f receiving), penetration.

Notes: Feelin’ some type of way about skinny!Steve. You can thank @sugarfreecapsicle​ for the inspo on this. It was written fast so mind the errors. It also ran away from me. WHOOPS. 

P.S. - Chaleur is French for heat 😉 Enjoy! x

Steve is no stranger to pain - but nothing quite like this.

The burning in his lungs, the deep ache in his bones, the sharpness in his gut that feels like a hot blade. This he can handle, this he is accustomed to.

But the pain of wanting you spreads deeper than his bones. Embeds itself in his very soul and sears him, brands him with the curl of your smile, the flutter of your eyelashes. It’s more than he can take.

You make that royal blue dress look like sin, the one that dips below your collarbones - just scandalous enough to draw eyes and his are no safer. He flushes each time he realizes he’s staring, but it’s difficult, especially when you seem to take intentional deep breaths that press your chest outwards. Amplify your breasts in such a subtle, tantalizing way it nearly sends him into an asthma attack.

He wonders if you know, like you seem to know everything else about him. He doesn’t hide it very well, shifts in his seat each time he feels his pants tighten, feels his skin grow hot when you do something particularly innocent like lick the ice cream from your lacquered lips. It heats his blood, sends it south, and he has to think of something else - anything else - to quell the desire running rampant.

It only lasts for so long - long enough as he walks you home, his full attention on you and the way your pretty mouth forms around words. That is, until he gets home and he’s alone, and all his thoughts are tormented by you, you, you. 

You don’t let him sleep, keep him hard as hot steel in his sleep pants until he has no choice but to fuck his own hand. Nearly sends him into an asthma attack just from the mere thought you atop him, thighs caging him in as your hips move to drive him deeper.

His lungs rattle when he finishes, his orgasm rocking so powerfully through him he’s surprised his heart doesn’t give out. It does stutter a rocky rhythm, though.

But it’s nothing compared to the thought of you.

He’s not sure how long he can keep quiet - how long he can last until he acts. If he doesn’t get his hands on your bare body, he thinks he might combust.

And he does, verbally, one night after dinner at his place. It spews like word vomit, how distracting you are, how badly he wants you. But he’s scared, he admits. He’s sickly and frail and you’re, well, you’re just about perfect. 

A dame wants a solid chest to fall asleep on, he says, not a washboard.

The kiss you respond with nearly knocks him off his feet, but it surely steals the breath from his lungs. They burn as he melts into you, relishes in the heat of your hands where you hold his face, shivers when your tongue curls around his. Hands curl into his shirt, deft fingers flying to undo his buttons.

His shoulders hunch, curling in on himself in shame as his face burns. You know. You pull away, lips connected by a thin string of spit, painted lips slightly smudged, swollen from his kiss. He bites his lip to keep from biting yours, long lashes shadowing his cheekbones.

“I want to see you, Stevie,” you implore breathily.

And oh, how could he ever tell you no?

He feels himself shaking as your fingers resume their task, part his shirt and peel it from his bony shoulders. He closes his eyes - can’t help it when he feels your eyes raking over him.

Takes in a sharp breath when he feels your hot mouth on his chest, hands sliding to his trousers. He full-on shudders when the warm, wet muscle of your tongue circles a nipple, brings it to a peak. He twitches in his boxers, feels the curve of your mouth as you smile, dance your lips down, down, down, and he opens his eyes.

He’s sure his heart falls out of his ass at the sight of you on your knees for him, eyes large and blinking owlishly - an innocent expression for a position that most certainly isn’t.

“I want you, Steve.” Blink. The clink of his belt buckle as you tug it free, pop the button. “Won’t you let me show you how much?”

Dumbly, he nods, whimpers at the wicked smirk, a crimson promise. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands, so he keeps them at his sides as you shimmy his pants down his narrow hips.

He swallows thickly, looks away when he springs free because the way you’re looking at him - he feels his knees buckle. He sees no judgment, no disgust in your eyes. Only love, and a deep, carnal desire to pull him apart a hundred different ways.

He just might let you.

He comes quickly once you get your mouth on him, and he covers his face, embarrassed but still burning hot. Peeking through his fingers, catches a glimpse of your tongue gliding over your lips, tasting and delighting in the tangy salt of him, and he feels himself come to life again.

But he needs you, needs to taste you the way you did him. He wishes he could carry you, wishes he could hoist you up into his arms, feel your nipples against his chest, but he settles for taking you by the hand, leading you to his bedroom.

He strips you slowly, lets the blue fabric puddle at your feet. You’re ethereal, other-worldly in your beautiful form. He drinks you in until he can’t any longer. You let him manhandle you to the bed, remove your brassiere and stockings and underthings until you’re gloriously bare before him.

And he has no idea what to do.

You’re blooming for him, pretty and pink and wet, glistening in the low light. Thighs spread open around his shoulders, his hands, cold and unsure, on the insides of your thighs.

Bucky told him how to do this once. Start slow, like lickin’ a Tootsie pop. Good dames’ll tell ya what they like.

He starts off slow, a few tentative curls of his tongue through your folds. He feels you clench around nothing, hears your sigh and mirrors it when your hand slides into his hair. So he does it again, a little faster, a broader stroke. You’re tangy but sweet, and he’s already addicted.

When he gets a little overzealous, you shift your hips away a little but encourage him, “Concentrated flicks, baby, like before.”

He blushes bright red but he’s determined to get this right. He watches you as he dives back in, nose brushing a pert little bud that makes you gasp. Bingo. He focuses his efforts there - gently, you urge him, because it’s extremely sensitive.

“Oh Steve,” you moan when he presses a light kiss to the bud, wraps his lips around it and suckles, just a little. He feels your legs quake around them, fingers tightening in his hair, and he doubles his efforts.

Groans when your hips grind against his face and his arch into the mattress - rock hard again, but he needs you to finish first. Craves to see you come apart under his cold, bony hands. Just a little more, he thinks as your breathing grows sharp, quick.

And then your back bows off the mattress, head tossed back with a soundless cry. Fingers like vices in his hair as you hold him to you, use him to bring yourself down. You melt like ice in the sun into the mattress, sated and breathless. Dopey smile on your face and you use your legs to pull him up to you.

Kiss him soundly and wind your tongue around his to taste yourself. An appreciative hum, and he notches perfectly between your thighs. He’s pulsing, ready to fill you, but he’ll wait for you.

You kiss him again, roll your hips up and his tip catches on your entrance. He chokes on a breath, in awe of the sheer heat and wetness of you. Another roll and he slides home.

He’s never felt so breathless - not in the midst of an attack, not in the frigid cold that freezes his lungs. Being inside you? It could kill him and his last thought would be that he’d rather die here than anywhere else.

You’re warm and wet and so velvety soft as your body stretches around him, grips him tight and he has to stave off finishing early again. It’s his first time, and you’d understand, but he wants this - needs it - to be good for you. An experimental thrust of his hips, the gasp in your throat that he swallows down as he kisses you, begins to move in earnest.

They’re a little sloppy, a little clumsy, but you wrap your legs around him and hold him to you, rock your hips up to meet him, and it smooths out. He’s overwhelmed by the sensation of you - of being connected so intimately with you, of watching each pleasurable expression, of hearing each gasp, whimper, moan, his name that he pulls from you. 

The metal frame creaks as he thrusts harder, faster, grits his teeth when you keen as his tip grazes a deep place inside you. Instinct takes over - he ducks his head, suckles a nipple into his mouth, grazes it with his teeth, and you come hard around him, tighten and clench down and it spurs on his own finish.

He moans against your skin, mouth dropped open as white stars burst behind his eyes. He feels high - feels like he’s flying, like he’ll never come down. Limbs like jelly, arms shaking as he holds himself up. So you pull him down to you, cradle him against you and kiss him even more breathless.

Sweat-slicked skin and racing heartbeats pressed together, a slow, languid kiss that curls his toes. He feels his lungs constricting, deepens his breathing to fight off the impending attack - he won’t ruin this. Not now.

He slides off to your side, pulls you closer so you can tuck your head under his chin, hand on his chest. The way you burrow in has his stomach fluttering, and he drops a long kiss to your forehead. You hum, satisfied and content and comfortable, and Steve thinks he’s never known anything quite like this.

[pogibshaya-dusha-blog]

[ @dearlokigodofmischief ]

     [ ☭ ] ─    “Come on, Stevie! It’ll be fun!” He’d been pleading with his best friend and roommate for the past half hour to come out to the dance hall with him, and as usual the small blond was more than a little reluctant. Bucky could understand it, Steve never seemed to enjoy going out as much as he did; woman didn’t seem to appreciate everything the blond had to offer, never took the time to see what Buck saw.      The line across Steve’s shoulder’s tensed, and it didn’t take a sharp eye to see the way the smaller man’s jaw clenched.  “Look, Buck, I know ya mean well... I just...” It always frustrated him to see his best pal moping at home, to see dames take one look at the guy’s stature and turn up their noses... but it never failed to make Bucky feel down right guilty when he’d pushed Steve too far. “Don’t feel well, I guess.”      It was a lie, plain as day, but Buck knew -- hell, Steve knew it was blatantly see through -- when Steve needed a break. “Naw, I get it.” He offered a lop sided grin, relieved when his friend gave one of his own in return. “Ya need anything? I can pick somethin’ up for ya before I go, or--”      “-I’m good, Buck. Go have fun tonight!”      Several blocks later the brunet was slipping through the door to the dance hall, grin already spread across his features. There was just something about the music, the way people moved together, laughed together... there was an electricity in the air that just couldn’t be fabricated out of anything but honest to goodness people puttin’ on the gas. It was loud -- James’ mind couldn’t help but add it to the list of reasons Steve probably hated the place given his bum ear. He pushed himself forward, no sense in feelin’ guilty over the usual; Steve would certain box his ears if he didn’t have a good time. Who was he kidding? He always had a good time; all he needed was a pretty dame who liked to dance and a good song swingin’ out of the band.      It was only once he was settled at the bar that he allowed himself a proper look around. There were plenty of couples mingling and turning on and off the dance floor, even a couple of proper jive bombers swinging each other around the floor. There were even some single looking dishes strewn about the hall.      Steve had asked him once how he picked which dames he was going to take out, he’d laughed and said most of the dames asked him. The truth was he didn’t have a particular ‘look’ he liked, it wasn’t anything physical per se... it was more of a feeling, an attitude; he wanted to go out and have some innocent fun -- and if things turned not so innocent he wasn’t going to argue... it was just... with the lack of work goin’ ‘round and working double shifts he didn’t have time (or money) to be shellin’ out on dates whenever he managed to have a free night where he wasn’t bone tired or trying to make sure his best friend didn’t cough up a lung.       It was 1938, the Depression was at it’s peak, but at least Prohibition was over -- at least they had alcohol... well, when one could afford it. Today, he could afford it, or at least one or two rounds. It was only after he’d gotten his first beer that he noticed her, a solitary dame with black hair and the greenest eyes Bucky had ever seen. He wasn’t a looks guy, or rather they didn’t matter too much to him, but there was just somethin’ ‘bout her.      With a grin far too lop sided for his own good, he courage it up and slipped into the spot next to her. “Haven’t seen you ‘round here before.” Lame, Barnes. Way to go. He’d never been good with words, sure he read a lot in his free time but when it came to actually sounding coherent? Not his strong suit. But people always said he had a ‘winning smile,’ so he tended to rely on his charms when he wanted to impress a pretty lady. And gosh golly was she pretty, gorgeous even! “Can I buy ya ‘nother drink?”

[nametakensff]

Come Here (S/teddie)

Decided to go off of this idea here and cooked up 3.4k of S/teve and E/ddie fucking 💕

E/ddie decides to tease S/teve with some quick inducing one hot summer day

~~~~~

Content:

M/M, established relationship, both S/teve and E/ddie have the fetish, E/ddie gets off to his own sneezing, manually induced sneezing, mentions of allergy sneezing, mentions of handjobs, dry humping, blowjobs, masturbation, spray, a little tiny mention of mess, sneezing on someone's face, teasing, nose rubbing, nose blowing, some tiiiny sprinkles of foot fetish stuff (my bad), they are both very sweaty lol

CW: nothing especially? E/ddie is playing with S/teve but they're both completely into it, S/teve is very handsy

~~~~~~

NSFW, minors please DNI!

“Stevieee.”

Lying on Eddie’s bed in a spread-eagle position, Steve was pulled out of the depths of his semi-conscious afternoon doze by the insistent neediness of his boyfriend’s voice.

“Yeah?” He called out, rubbing his eyes groggily with the heels of his palms.

“C’mere.”

Steve sighed. Moving was the last thing he wanted to do. They were in peak summertime heat, and the Munson trailer had very little in the way of functional air conditioning. It was fine if he was permitted to lie around like a spoilt house cat, but Eddie was energetic today. Granted, he was always energetic – but this was a lot even for him, given the veritable furnace-like atmosphere they were sweltering in.  He’d only been able to snag this little nap because Eddie had been so preoccupied with some fantasy novel or other, eyes flying over the words in the thick tome without pause. Not much interested in books and even less interested in watching somebody else read one, Steve had slunk away to sweat a man-shaped puddle onto Eddie’s sheets.

“Baaaby boy. I said come heeere.”

Steve’s eyes snapped open again, and he realised he had already started to dose off in those 10 seconds or so of sleepy contemplation. He knew Eddie wouldn’t stop, so with no small amount of effort he pulled himself to his feet and staggered in the direction of the living room.

He looked at Eddie through bleary eyes, an apathetic expression plastered to his face in sharp contrast with the beatific grin his boyfriend wore. They were both shirtless, dressed only in boxers. It was way too fucking hot for much more, and Eddie had only been persuaded to keep his underwear on after Steve insisted on it. He didn’t think Wayne would appreciate a great big ass-shaped sweat stain on his sofa, and Eddie had had to agree, if not reluctantly.

“What is it, Eds?” He mumbled, making his way over to sit on the couch next to the older man. Eddie promptly stopped him with a hand to the chest.

“Nope. No sitting for you.” Eddie smiled up at him.

Steve blinked, taking in the mischievous twinkle in those big brown eyes, and the electricity sparked by their mutual gaze woke him up the rest of the way faster than a shot of espresso. Oh. So it was like that. The boner he’d sustained in his sleep, though it had been flagging in the miserable heat, gave an interested little twitch. He smiled back as Eddie started to play absently with his chest hair, waiting to hear what he had in mind.

“How about you kneel for me, huh? Right here.”

Eddie gestured at the space on the floor between his spread legs. And sure. Steve could do that. He dropped to his knees, maintaining eye contact with his boyfriend as he did so. Eddie’s smile widened, all teeth and eyes crinkled at the corners, evidently very pleased with how easily Steve was willing to play along. He swung one arm over the back of the sofa; Steve watched the slight rippling of lean muscle as he moved.

“Great job, big boy.” Eddie praised him in a lilted, singsong like manner. Steve smirked.

“Thank you. I studied really hard for all my obedience classes.”

Eddie’s smile widened as he reached behind a couch cushion.

“Could have fooled me, Harrington. Always talking back, always sassing me.”

“Just following your example, I guess.” Steve shrugged, a little distracted from the verbal back-and-forth as he focused in on Eddie’s right hand – and more importantly, what he clutched between his forefinger and thumb. He opened his mouth to enquire, but Eddie was quick to interrupt him.

“Shhh, Steve.”

He didn’t offer any explanation, and Steve’s eyebrow raised in scepticism. It was only when Eddie began to move his right hand up to his face, and Steve recognised the small item in his grip, that he found himself genuinely wordless with anticipation. The small clothing tag had become a regular and happy edition to their sex life now that they had become comfortable enough to indulge in their mutual fetish. He had to admit there had been a little more reluctance on his part, but not for lack of desire; he often felt like his body was too tiny and mortal to contain the levels of excitement he experienced being around Eddie on a daily basis, let alone when he was sneezing for his – their – pleasure.

His sweaty cheeks were already flushed by the heat, but they darkened a little all the same. His mouth suddenly felt dry, his stomach full of butterflies. More importantly, his genitals were making themselves very well known, pitching a solid tent in his boxers in seconds. Eddie was looking at him through heavy lidded eyes with an almost predatory expression of hunger. Steve could relate; he loved when Eddie was equally as responsive and pliant for him. Still didn’t stop him from feeling just a little embarrassed at his own uncontrollable eagerness, though.

Eddie flashed him one last grin before slipping the little tag into his right nostril and beginning to tease. He was so sensitive, Steve thought with immense appreciation. The rim of the metalhead’s nostril twitched even before the tool was inserted, as if in lusty preparation for the tickle to come. As Eddie probed himself, both nostrils began to flare in earnest. He was a pro at this, and Steve knew it would only be a matter of seconds before the first sneeze would come trembling out of him. His allergies had been behaving today, likely because they had been sweltering inside with every window firmly shut. It didn’t mean they were completely under control, and they’d both ushered in the morning with gentle, rolling orgasms, courtesy of Eddie’s morning sneezes and both of their hands. By the cringing expression that was beginning to crumple his features as Steve looked up at him through unblinking eyes, his sinuses were as easily irritable as ever.

One final, shuddering inhale later and the metalhead was pitching forward with a ticklish little fit.

“Hh-HH! HDdt’TSsieww!! Ehdt’TChieww!! Hah’ESHH’ieww!! ‘TShhieww!! EhH’NGXtshh!!”

Steve couldn’t help it as he let out a closed-mouth moan, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. Eddie had purposely leaned forward more than the natural propulsion of his fit, and so Steve had felt every droplet of the fine aerosol each sneeze pushed out of his boyfriend. He had tilted his head back ever so slightly, letting the sneezes mist his neck and chest. The cool kiss of spray felt even better than usual on his heated skin, and he shivered, breaking out all over in a pleasurable rush of goosebumps.

“Bless you,” He sighed. He wanted to reach out and grab for Eddie, but his boyfriend didn’t even so much as acknowledge that he had spoken to him, slipping the tool right back into his waiting nostril. Steve placed his restless hands on his own thighs, digging his fingernails into the muscular flesh just shy of breaking the skin.

Eddie tickled himself, gasping intermittently as Steve watched him in a dreamy haze, feeling like his bones had been replaced with jelly. He normally only felt this loose post-orgasm, but the combination of sweltering heat, his recent unconsciousness and the unexpectedness of this game left him loopy and soft.

Steve barely had to wait before the next round of sneezes was raining down upon him, the last few so unbearably tickly his boyfriend’s left leg jerked off the ground as they overpowered him.

“hh’NgXt’shieww! HAH’ENGXtch’tsieww!! IGSH’ieww!! Huh’IgKkShieww!! ESHhh’ieww! ‘DDZz’SHieww!!...Ahh, holy fuck, that felt good…”

Eddie sighed, looking about as wiped out as Steve felt. The younger man was happy to see that the metalhead was sporting an impressive erection, pressing up against his boxers and leaking a little through the fabric. His own cock jumped in response, and he swallowed down a sudden deluge of saliva as he drooled at the sight like a fucking dog.

“Fucking bless you, Eddie!” He moaned, fingers flexing as he continued to kneel in front of his sniffling boyfriend.

Eddie didn’t respond this time either, just rubbed at his tickly nose with the palm of his left hand, mashing it around roughly for a couple of moments. The wet clicking sounds the action produced made Steve throb again. He could feel the head of his cock dripping, now.

He jumped at the sudden feeling of Eddie’s heel pressing into his crotch, groaning in equal measures surprise and arousal. It was only for a fleeting moment, a cruel little nudge before Eddie placed his foot back on the ground, thighs spread even wider. Steve tried not to think too hard about how good the pressure had felt, about how much he would have liked to grip Eddie’s ankle and rut back against him. The older man laughed softly at the look of Steve’s wide-eyed incredulity, but then simply returned the tag to his nostril again, barely a pause as he worked on his next fit.

Steve wouldn’t take that shit sitting – or kneeling – down. He pressed forward, torso up against the couch cushions between Eddie’s legs, and gripped each pale thigh firmly before yanking Eddie slightly towards him. Eddie didn’t stop him; he continued to tease himself until his chest swelled with a definitive breath, forced out of him moments later with another attack of spraying, tickly sneezes.

“Hit’TSCH’hieww!! HdT’TScchieww!! EhD’TSchhiew!! ISHhh’ieww!! Hh-! Hah’ISCHHtt!!”

Steve’s eyes closed reflexively, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks as those sneezes caught him squarely in the face. He sighed, shuddering slightly with adrenaline. This always felt so, so good. He was moments away from shamelessly fucking the couch where his cock pressed up against the worn cushion.

“Bless you, baby.”

Eddie sighed, a distinctly orgasmic and dramatic sigh, sinking back into the couch and luxuriating in the sensation of his own sneezes. Steve liked to sneeze, couldn’t really help the little fetish-fueled rush it gave him, but he wasn’t one to get off to the sensation itself. That Eddie did, admitted to him that sneezing alone, not even someone else’s, could make him cum – it just about made Steve’s head explode every time he thought about it.

“Thank you, Stevie.”

Steve peered up at his face, took in the way Eddie was watching him from under his dark eyelashes. Eddie was addressing him directly now, acknowledging his blessing. He reached for the metalhead’s cock, figuring if he still wasn’t allowed to touch, his boyfriend would be sure to let him know. And, yeah – immediately his searching hand was being redirected, placed right back on Eddie’s thigh. Steve bit the inside of his cheek and swallowed a low whine, feeling as though he was losing his mind just a little bit – even more so as Eddie reached up to tease his nostril again, barely skimming the rim before another set of irritated sneezes burst out of him.

“Hh’EHhTT’TCHieww!! IGSHhh’IEWw!! Hah’EScHh’IEww!!....IISCHhhhhh!”

That lingering, definitive sneeze was so incredibly desperate, so high pitched as it misted over Steve’s face that the resultant shiver of pleasure that rolled down his spine had his hips thrusting involuntarily against the couch. It had been a pretty wet sneeze, too – Steve reached out with a large hand to wipe away the little dribble of saliva that dampened Eddie’s bottom lip. The intimacy of it made both of them moan.

“God bless you. You’re so sneezy, honey. So hot.”

He was getting bolder, incrementally, with every time that they fucked, but Steve couldn’t help cringing just a little at the sound of those words leaving his mouth – even if the giddy rush of arousal they produced was intoxicating. He could handle the embarrassment, however, as long as his words continued to have the effect on Eddie they had evidently just done. His boyfriend almost whimpered, squirming in his seat, cock rock-hard and begging to be touched. Steve was dying. He wanted his hands on Eddie more than he’d ever wanted anyone else’s hands on him – and he always wanted hands on him.

“Mm, thank you. Tickles so much.”

Steve swore and reached for Eddie’s cock, groaning like a petulant toddler when he was once again denied with a quick slap to the wrist. His hands gripped into the flesh of his boyfriend’s thighs, flexing intermittently in restless irritation.

“Eddie,” Steve groaned, voice strained and gravelly.

Eddie said nothing, but as he made to slip the inducing tool right back into his nose, something in Steve snapped. He yanked Eddie forward with a hand behind his knee, causing the older man to yelp in surprise, before manoeuvring the captured leg between his thighs and pressing his straining cock against the older man’s shin. It wasn’t an ideal body part to hump – a soft thigh, an ass, a crotch were all infinitely preferable. Even the sole of Eddie’s foot, the arch of it, pressing up against his cock…but this would have to do. He was pushing his luck as it was.

He started to buck his hips, wishing he was fucking his boyfriend’s ass, imagining the tight clench of muscles around him. Gripping the sweaty skin behind Eddie’s knee was making the angle a little easier, and he found a rhythm faster than he’d expected to.

“Fucking hell, Stevie!” Eddie giggled, pressing his leg up, hard, squashing Steve’s cock and balls between the limb and his own body. Steve gasped – it felt awful and wonderful all at once, and then the pressure was gone and he was pushing himself forward, chasing the contact as if possessed.

“So sensitive.”

Steve huffed at him.

“Shut up. This all your fault, Munson.” He stared up at Eddie. “Look at what you fucking do to me.”

The look that Eddie gave him as he took in the sight of him, the nakedness of his desperation, was so loaded with emotion – burning desire, fondness, awe – that Steve almost swooned with the resultant rush of blood to his already swollen cock.

“Yeah. All my fault...” Eddie muttered, sounding breathless and ruined. Steve wished their chests were pushed together so he could feel the feverish beating of Eddie’s heart, the rapid in and outs of his laboured breathing.

When Eddie raised the tool back up to his nostril, Steve nearly came on the spot. He managed to hold back, gritting his teeth and choking back a strangled ‘fuckkk!’ He wanted to time it just right, bust a nut inside his boxers right as Eddie was showering him with spray. It was going to be an intense orgasm, judging by the way his entire body was beginning to heat up, so, so hot, sweat prickling on his skin as his universe narrowed down to the throbbing in his cock and the sight of his boyfriend’s twitchy pink nostrils.

Eddie’s face crumpled, tongue pressing against his bottom lip as the sneezes built, tickling himself in earnest. His chest jumped with violent hitching breaths, a single tear of irritation beginning to roll down the side of his face. It was so painfully erotic Steve couldn’t catch his breath – the oncoming orgasm leaving him stupid and operating on animalistic impulse alone. He felt his balls drawing up in preparation, felt the coiling pressure in his belly tightening, ready to explode in a euphoric release.

Eddie gasped – a huge, desperate intake of air that sounded almost pained as he pressed the clothing tag as deep into his nostril as he could. He held it there, frozen for an intoxicating moment, the cresting tickle as monumental as Steve’s approaching orgasm. When he did sneeze, they barrelled out of him, an intense rush of both air and sound, overpowering Steve’s senses and ushering his orgasm in so abruptly he yelled with it.

“HUH-!! HHIIISSHHH’IEww!! HahDT’TScHieww!! ENGXT’TSchieww!! IGSSHh!! Hh! HuH’ISSSH’Ieww!! EhH’NGXT’Tschieww!! DDZ’Zshieww-! Heh!! Hahdt’TSSCH’IEWww!!”

Steve came throughout, twitching helplessly, his face a twisted rictus of ecstasy. The sweet, throbbing pleasure of it pulsed through him, cock spitting cum into his underwear, soaked and sticking to the skin of his boyfriend’s leg. He finished cumming in time to tip forward and press his head against Eddie’s thigh, mouth still frozen in an ‘o’ of pleasure, as Eddie sneezed one last time over the expanse of his back. He groaned as the aerosol rained gently across his spine, thoroughly sneezed on and contented in a way only his fetish could make him.

“Ohh fuckkk…” He muttered after a moment, drooling a little onto the soft, pale skin pressed up against his face. Eddie laughed breathily.

“You’re welcome.” He sniffled, the sound of it ominously thick.

Steve gingerly raised his head, feeling almost drunk in the oppressive heat of the room and the closeness of their bodies. Eddie had covered his nose and mouth with a hand, and Steve knew those last few sneezes had been productive.

“Do you need a tissue, baby? Made a mess?”

Eddie nodded, eyes smiling over the protective cradle of his hand.

“Sure.” Another thick sniffle that had Steve’s cock twitching almost painfully with a pitiful, post-orgasm spasm. “But I think you made a bigger one.”

Steve blushed, sighing and pulling himself up on shaky legs. God, that had felt good. He’d practically painted the inside of his underwear, Eddie was right about that. He smiled a goofy, sated smile at Eddie before making his way over to the bedroom. He considered his messy state for a moment, then simply shrugged before removing his underwear and wiping his cock on the clean parts of the fabric. He sighed in over sensitised pleasure; he was still hard and it felt great to stroke himself. He indulged for a few moments longer before flinging his underwear onto the pile of dirty laundry on the floor and returning to the living room, entirely naked and box of tissues in hand.

Eddie was fumbling his left hand over his crotch, pawing lazily at his straining erection as his right hand remained covering his face. Steve’s cock gave an appreciative twitch at the sight of it. He knew in that moment that he wanted his boyfriend to finish in his mouth. He proffered the box to Eddie, waiting for the older man to reach up and take it before he returned to a kneeling position between his legs. As Eddie pulled back his hand, Steve caught sight of the glistening mess underneath for just a moment, and then the metalhead was scrubbing himself clean and indulging in a long, crackling blow. It ended with an awkwardly loud honk that had the pair of them locking eyes and giggling like stupid kids.

When he was done, Eddie simply let himself melt back into the couch.

“That was fun.” He drawled, eyes closed and head tilted back. Steve’s hand crawled up the inside of his thigh. “Did you like that?”

Steve snorted.

“Did I like that? You drained me dry, dude. That felt so fucking good.”

“Yay.” Eddie offered, the corners of his mouth turning up with a smug little smile.

Steve began to pull Eddie’s underwear down, and the older man cooperated by lifting his ass off the couch.

“Not going to slap my hand away this time?” Steve half-heartedly joked, pupils blown wide at the sight of Eddie’s leaking, solid cock. He was salivating in moments, leaning forward and inhaling the scent of him deeply. The press of sweaty pubic hair against his face as he nestled his nose up against the base of his boyfriend’s cock was familiar and intoxicating. Eddie’s breath hitched in anticipation, and Steve knew his arousal was fueled partially by the promise of a blowjob, but even more so out of the suggestible proximity of his pointed nose against his genitals.

“Go to town, honey. I’m not stopping you.”

Steve smiled, kissed his way up the length of Eddie’s cock before pressing his tongue into the slit of his urethra. Eddie uttered a garbled, broken moan, hips bucking uncontrollably and cock head leaking fluid in response.

“You know,” Steve started after licking his palm and wrapping it around Eddie’s sweaty shaft. “Normal people just ask for blowjobs when they want one without the pretence of sneezing all over their boyfriend.” He took the head of Eddie’s cock into his mouth, licking it a couple of times like a melting popsicle before sucking on it, hard.

“Ohh, Stevie…..my way is so much more – ahh! More fun-!” Eddie choked out, fingers reaching out to wrap themselves in Steve’s floppy hair.

Steve couldn’t disagree in the least, replaying the sights and sounds of his boyfriend’s sneezing in his mind as he sucked him down like he was best damn thing he’d ever tasted.

[nametakensff]

🥀 for Eddie~

Ok. So. This ended up being 6k 💀

Please enjoy a fic of E/ddie being absolutely overwhelmed by multiple allergens before he completely loses all control in a most magnificent way ❤️

~~~~~~

Content:

M/M, pre-relationship, pollen allergies, perfume allergies, sensitivity to cleaning products, cat allergies(ish), both S/teve and E/ddie have the fetish but don't know that yet, E/ddie turned on by his own sneezes, m/asturbation, humiliation, slow build of increasing allergic irritation

CW: a tad of self-hatred and internalised shame regarding the fetish

Slapped under a read more as this is very much NSFW!!

When Eddie had woken that day to a torso-crunching sneeze tossing him upwards in bed before he’d even been able to open his eyes, he knew he was screwed. It was peak allergy season, and they were hitting him hard. He scrambled for the bottle of meds on his bedside table, dry swallowing a couple of pills and steeling himself for the rest of his first fit of the morning.

“Hih! Hddt-! Ehg’tchiew! IDDHT’shiewww! Enngxt’tchiew!! ‘TShh’ieww! HIG’tchieww! Fuu’huckk-! IGK’tchiewww!!”

He let the sneezes do as they wanted, lying back against his pillow and allowing them to shudder through him. He felt the copious spray rain down on him in a gentle mist. It was gross, really, but he had just barely woken up – and it’s not like anyone was around to see him being so nasty. He briefly fantasised about what it would feel like for Steve to hold him as he convulsed, blessing him after each fittish release. Maybe he wouldn’t be disgusted. Maybe he would find Eddie…attractive like this, the way Eddie felt all the blood rush to his dick the few times he’d witnessed Steve let loose with a loud, messy sneeze of his own. His morning wood twitched half-heartedly in his boxers at the recollection.

He groaned, shaking his head and scrunching his eyes tightly shut, embarrassed by his own outrageous fantasy. It wasn’t normal to feel the way he did about sneezing – ridiculous to imagine anyone ever lusting over his relentless allergies, let alone Steve Harrington. These thoughts were becoming increasingly frequent, however; he didn’t know why his brain was so intent on torturing him like this. Steve would never be interested in him; hell, he didn’t even think Steve would be interested in any guy. It’d only clicked that he liked guys as well as girls – well, when he’d witnessed a shirtless King Steve tear a paranormal bat monster in two with his bare hands. He had no clue how to deal with these feelings. And so, he would continue to bury them.

He swiped at his nose and let out a bitter chuckle. He’d sworn he would no longer run away only a few months prior, and to be fair, he had the scars to prove he didn’t. So tell him why the thought of having feelings for Steve was scarier than facing an entire army of evil bat demons? Just his fucking luck.

He suffered through another 15 minutes of tickling, teasing fits before he felt his medication kick in – he’d long lost count of how many times he’d sneezed, and his erection hadn’t flagged in the least. He hesitated for just a moment before licking his palm and wrapping it around the length of his cock, squeezing himself generously. It wouldn’t take him long to cum – sometimes his own sneezes got him as worked up as other people’s, especially if he kept going. He buried the shame as he always did and focused on the pleasure, finally feeling it crest, mouth open in a silent scream as his orgasm pulsed through him. He tried not to think about the fact that the image of Steve’s twitching nostrils had been the last thing to pass through his mind before reaching release.

He lay in bed just a few minutes longer, luxuriating in the afterglow and blessed break from sneezing, before getting up and starting to dress for the day. It was Saturday, and he had lunch plans with Robin and Steve before meeting up with the others later that afternoon for dinner and a movie marathon at the Harrington household. He still hadn’t quite gotten his head around the sudden increase of new friends in his life, and definitely not the intensity of their bonds in such a short amount of time. Trauma would do that, he mused.

Stifling a few errant sneezes as he went, and just about avoiding spraying the bathroom mirror with a mouthful of toothpaste when a particularly evil tickle had ground at his sinuses, he successfully managed to get ready. A quick one over in said mirror had confirmed no major damage – his nostrils were maybe a little pink around the edges, his eyes a tiny bit watery, but nothing he couldn’t brush off.

He made his way out of the new government issued ‘we’re sorry a supernatural portal opened up in your living room ceiling’ trailer and into his van. That short walk had been enough to chip away at some of his optimism that he could keep his allergies at bay. But dammit, he had to try. For the first time in a long time, he felt shy. He’d always been embarrassed about the intensity of his allergies, sure, and only Gareth had really had the privilege of seeing him at his absolute worst, poor guy – but there was something about these new friendships, these new opportunities to connect with people outside of the tiny world he had felt resigned to, that felt serious. There was no way he was pushing them away by being a drippy, sneezy mess.

Easier said than done, he thought to himself as he settled in the driver’s seat, blindly fumbling to close the door behind him as an absolutely nuclear tickle had his eyes scrunching shut and nostrils flaring wide. He shuddered as another fit tore its way out of him, forcing his chin to his chest and jerking him forward almost rhythmically.

After he’d finished the fit with a particularly harsh “GXXXTT’shieww!!”, he blinked his eyes open to assess the damage. Steering wheel: drenched. Dashboard: thoroughly baptised. Window: visibly sprayed. God, today was not his day. He found a half empty and partially crushed box of tissues near the bench in the back of his van and almost used the rest of them just to wipe his interior clean and blow what felt like his entire brain into a wad of them. Satisfied he was done for now – and hopefully the rest of the fucking day – he made his way over to the dinky but excellent little diner he had been frequenting with his newfound friends for weeks now.

As soon as he walked in, he spotted Steve and Robin in their regular booth. His heart skipped a beat when Steve looked up and saw him, waving and breaking out into a much goofier grin than Eddie imagined the previous King of Hawkins High capable of. Eddie felt his own probably just as goofy grin emerge as he gave a little wave himself and joined them in the booth.

He was good for about 30 minutes – enough time for them to get their food ordered and shoot the shit about whatever it was that was running through their minds. It was never forced or dull, hanging out with Steve and Robin, and it made Eddie even more boisterous than usual. As he jousted fries with Robin, a pretty, new waitress walked over with Steve’s food. Eddie had never seen her before, and he was sure he would have remembered if he had. She was probably in her mid-twenties, super cute with a disarming smile and sweet composure. The other two must have found her equally as charming, if Robin immediately dropping her fry-slash-sword to her plate and the straightening of Steve’s spine were any indication.

“Here you are, honey.” She smiled at Steve as she leant across the booth to place his plate in front of him. It was as she moved back that the cloying scent of her perfume hit Eddie in full force. It was lavender, and she was wearing so much of it he had to wonder if she’d taken a bath in the stuff. His nostrils twitched traitorously, the previously unforgotten tickle bubbling to the surface. Eddie had no time to hold them back; he snatched his napkin off the table and brought it to his face to smother the sudden fit that rocked through him.

“Ingkt’tiew! Hig’tchu! Igxxt! Engxt’tchu!”

He felt himself starting to blush – he’d intended to stifle them into silence, but they’d come out sounding high-pitched, desperate, and embarrassingly girly. At least they weren’t that loud. Maybe the others hadn’t even heard him.

“Oh my god, Eddie, did you just sneeze? Because they were possibly the cutest sneezes I’ve ever heard in my entire life, holy shit!”

Fuck.

He peered out over the protective barrier of the napkin to find Robin and Steve both staring at him – Robin with an expression of gleeful amusement, Steve with something indiscernible to Eddie – concern, maybe? It didn’t matter. He had to play this momentary lapse in weakness off convincingly.

“Yeah, sorry, Birdie. Made ‘em nice and sweet, just for you.”

He flashed a dazzling grin her way, looking over at Steve with the same cheeky expression. Their eyes met, but only for a moment before Steve ducked away, looking almost bashful.

“Bless you.” He muttered softly before shoving a forkful of food into his mouth, effectively silencing himself.

Eddie felt his stomach flip over in giddy excitement at the blessing, the thought of eating suddenly the last thing on his mind. He managed to keep his face from colouring with a gleeful sort of embarrassment and quickly started up another teasing argument with Robin, desperate to move on and tuck away this recent turn of events to be returned to the next time he played with his cock in the privacy of his bedroom. They returned to their regular banter, Eddie sneaking off to the bathroom only once to let out a vicious round of harshly stifled sneezes that left him just a little bit dizzy, and before they knew it they’d been there for several hours.

They paid for the food and made their way to the parking lot, intending to split up and regroup at Steve’s with the younger kids in tow. Steve would be picking up Max and El, while Eddie was responsible for Dustin, Mike and Lucas (no Erica, this time – Tina’s house called). Nancy and Jonathan would arrive with Will and they’d all be assembled and prepared for a horror movie marathon, something Eddie, Max and Jonathan were eagerly looking forward to. Eddie had never spoken to Jonathan before all this mess, not really, and had been delighted to find out he was a secret horror fanatic – they had bonded over their mutual love for ‘The Evil Dead’ one evening while Nancy rolled her eyes beside them.

Before Eddie could make his way over to his van, before he could even finish saying goodbye to Steve and Robin, a pressing tickle wrenched a sudden, fiercely contained fit out him.

“Engxt’chiew! Heh! EDDT’tchiew!! Eshhhiew! IDDT’shhh! Jesus, sorry.”

“Bless you!” Robin cheerily offered.

“You okay, man?” Steve inquired, resting a warm hand on Eddie’s shoulder as the metalhead worked his itchy nostrils back and forth against an open palm, attempting to quell any further explosions before he could get to the safe haven of his vehicle. He was slightly crestfallen that Steve hadn’t blessed him. Ridiculous.

“Yeah, man, m’fine. Just something in the air.”

“Do you have – allergies?”

Eddie tilted his head to the side slightly, buzzing nose forgotten.  The way Steve had hesitated was…odd. And the way he looked just now was….wait. No. Eddie wouldn’t entertain the thought further. He was projecting his own weird obsession onto Steve and that wasn’t fair on either of them, even if Steve had no idea what went on in the privacy of his mind.

“Yeah, but they’re not that bad. I’m fine, really.” He lied through his teeth. It didn’t feel good, but it felt better than admitting how much of an allergic mess he really was.

“Okay. I’ll, uh, see you in a bit, man.” Steve didn’t seem too convinced. Dammit.

“Later, dude.”

Waiting for Steve to pull out of the parking lot, Eddie allowed himself one fully open sneezing fit.

“Hah’hh!! HIH!! HIDDT’tchieww!! IGXT’chieww!! ISSSH’ieww!! ‘TCHIEW! Hah! Hh-hh-HH!! HAHDT’chiewww!! Mother FUCKER.”

Okay, enough of that. Time to collect the kids.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Dustin. What the fuck is that.”

The teen in question gave him an incredulous look.

“This, Eddie, is a domestic cat. A feline. You may have heard of them before.”

Cheeky little shit. Eddie swatted at him as he piled into the back seat, Lucas and Mike close behind him.

“No, Henderson, I mean what the fuck are you doing bringing it with you?”

The cat in question was extremely cute, Eddie had to admit. He’d briefly seen it before, clutched to the breast of Dustin’s nervous mother as they had an awkward conversation in her open door, waiting for the teen to make an appearance. He wrinkled his nose instinctively just taking in the sight of its soft black and white fur. He wasn’t allergic to cats, per se – maybe a little sensitive. He’d sneezed at cat hair a few times before – perhaps out of the ordinary for a normal person with an immune system not hellbent on murdering them, but for him it was nothing. Today, however, he was already feeling the pressure from the absolutely obscene amount of pollen in the air, and the cloying scent of that lavender perfume seemed to linger in his sinuses.

Dustin stroked the cat’s little head, earning a tiny mew in response. Eddie watched several hairs drift to the floor of his van.

“I had to bring Tews with us. Mom’s out of town tonight and she would lose her shit if she knew I left him alone.”

Oh, yeah. Eddie remembered now. Dustin’s mother was already an anxious person by nature but given that her previous cat had been eaten by some kind of demogorgon dog thing, she’d become extra possessive of her current one. Eddie couldn’t recall whether she knew the circumstances of her pet’s demise. Not that it mattered right now.

“Does Steve know you’re bringing a plus one?” He started the van’s engine.

“Nope.”

“Think he’ll be okay with it leaving its dirty little paw prints all over the fine upholstery of his extremely expensive furniture?”

“Tews is NOT dirty!” Dustin bristled. Tews mewed in what Eddie could have sworn was agreement.

“He’s gonna have to be okay with it.” Mike shrugged. If there was one kid cheekier than Dustin, it was Mike Wheeler, Eddie thought.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So far, so good, Eddie thought as he settled down onto the sofa next to Steve. He’d only sneezed once on the drive over, stifled into silence as he stopped at a red light. The boys in the back had been too busy arguing over something inane to hear him. Said boys were now scrambling around on Steve’s living room floor sorting Horror movie tapes into categorical order of best to worse, and it was getting heated. Will, who Eddie had met later, was as animated as he’d ever seen him. It was nice – he seemed like such a sombre kid, exactly the kind Eddie took under his wing at Hellfire club. Back with his best friends again, it had only been a matter of days before he’d perked up like a blossoming flower opening its petals to the sun. Perhaps not the best metaphor to think of right now, Eddie lamented, subtly rubbing his nose against his wrist.

He'd been greeted at the door of Steve’s house by Nancy, who’d taken him into a hug almost immediately. Eddie would have never guessed such a refined, curt human being could give such warm and comforting embraces, but here he was. El and Max had come out of the kitchen to greet them, along with Jonathan, who smiled openly at Eddie. It was bizarre, all of it, this mishmash of people – and yet it felt so right.

Before Eddie could make his way into the living room to find Steve and Robin, he felt his sinuses come to life with an urgency more intense than any other time that day. Of course – the sharp lemony scent of cleaning products that seemed to hang around the Harrington residence permanently, nothing he couldn’t handle normally, had reignited the tickle he had been fighting so hard to keep dormant. He ground his teeth in frustration and quickly excused himself to the bathroom.

Locking the door behind him, he’d sneezed over and over into a hastily grabbed handful of toilet paper. Luckily for him, it was as luxurious and expensive as everything else in the Harrington domicile. He was especially grateful for that after 3 minutes of non-stop sneezing, when he pushed the tissue inside his itchy nostrils with his fingers and rubbed furiously, pleading with his nose to please, just give him a break, just this one time.

He'd wound down from the fit and checked himself in the mirror – he looked much more worse for wear than he would have liked. His nose was starting to look embarrassingly pink, his eyes the same. He splashed water on his face a couple of times, hoping this would help. It didn’t. He sighed in exasperation, then plastered his best devil-may-care smile on his face. He would just have to be realllly good at faking it. Pageantry was, after all, his forte.

So he’d made his way back into the fray, sat down next to Steve in the seat he had seemingly saved just for him (there went his stupid heart again), and let himself fall back into a steady rhythm of banter and laughter.

He was feeling great, feeling fantastic. This was so much fun – Steve was laughing at a joke he’d cracked at Lucas’s expense, and the rich tone of it made his heart soar. He wanted to hear that laugh every day if he could help it. He’d been so absorbed in the scene surrounding him, he hadn’t noticed Tews, bored of Dustin ignoring him and depriving him of pets, making his way along the sofa arm towards the latest target of affection. Unfortunately for Eddie, that was him.

Tews suddenly dove onto his lap, startling him enough to make him yelp. The kids laughed and watched in amusement as Tews started to settle into a loaf on Eddie’s lap. Dammit, it really was a cute little kitty. Eddie hadn’t had any animals growing up – he felt a little awkward around them to this day, but this cat was a particularly friendly one that Dustin had assured him didn’t scratch or bite.

Steve’s tan hand suddenly came into sight as he reached towards Eddie’s lap to stroke the little cat, shocking Eddie and making his heart race by pure proximity of angular, sexy hand to his crotch. Each stroke down the feline’s spine sent hairs gently lifting into the air and over Eddie’s jean-clad thighs. It was doing nothing to help the ever-present tickle, but he’d be damned if he was telling Steve to stop.

He was fine. He could handle it. Pollen, perfume, cleaning products, cat fur? No big deal. He was an allergic expert. He could hold back sneezes for hours at a time – did do every allergy season. He pumped himself up in his head, not unlike the sports coaches he had ignored and driven insane in gym class. Nothing was going to make him sneeze.

It was at the peak of this mental pep talk that Eddie felt the sudden soft, not entirely unpleasant sensation of something brushing under his sensitive nostrils. It felt velvety and foreign – but most of all, it tickled. Perhaps more than anything had ever tickled him before. To his utter dismay, he realised Tews was dragging the tip of his tail back and forth under his nose.

That was it. There was no holding back. Every single tickle he’d felt that day thus far seemed to combine and build into a commotion so strong, so maddeningly itchy that he reeled with it. His breath snagged, a desperate, noisy gasp inflated his chest to capacity. Time stood still for him as he held that breath for a pregnant pause, feeling as if the oncoming sneeze was simply too big for him to handle, that his body simply wouldn’t be able to get it out. And then, at last, the tickle reached its apex.

“HAHH-AHHGKK’SHIEEWWW!!!”

It was a monstrous sneeze, colossal as it wrenched its way out of him, sending him sprawling forward over his knees and almost out of his seat. If it hadn’t scared him, it had certainly terrified the shit out of everyone around him. Chaos ensued.

The cat in his lap startled, bolting across the room with a shrill and angry mewl.

“TEWS!” Dustin cried, hot on the cat’s heels as it attempted to scale the Harringtons’ fancy new curtains.

In the kitchen, El and Max screamed, and Eddie heard the sound of shattering glass as the bowls containing various snacks crashed down on the kitchen tile.

Steve jumped so hard beside him he was nearly stood upright, a hand clutching his chest like an old lady clutching her pearls.

The younger boys had yelled and dropped the tapes where they knelt around the VCR, Will actually clapping his hands over his ears.

Robin had jolted mid-sip, pouring the majority of her coke down her front and snorting some up her nose.

Jonathan, making his way into the living room from the kitchen carrying a bowl of pretzels, had tripped over Nancy’s suddenly outstretched legs as she jumped forward in her chair. The snacks rained across the room in a glorious arc of salt and crumbs, showering the kids on the floor and scattering over the carpet. Eddie was vaguely aware of a small piece landing in the messy tendrils of his hair.

You could have heard a pin drop, the air almost vibrating with the same deafening silence that followed an echoing gun shot. The only sound to be heard was Robin gently choking on her soda, and the rhythmic thump of Steve’s palm slapping her on the back. Eddie could feel every eye in the rooming burning into him.

It was objectively hilarious. Had it been anyone other than him, Eddie would have been in hysterics right now, struggling to breathe for laughing so hard. But it had been him, and he was mortified. As if things couldn’t get any worse, he could feel the tickle flare up again almost immediately, and he knew he was fucked. He’d been holding back all day – he’d been on borrowed time, knowing his allergies were hell bent on making him miserable, and it was finally his time. He muttered a breathy apology, face burning, before clamping a hand to his face and stumbling blindly down the hall to the bathroom, ignoring Steve’s concerned call after him as he went.

Seconds after he managed to lock the door with his free hand, he was pitching forward into his other hand with an intense fit – not as loud and forceful as that insane first sneeze, but just as draining.

“GHKKK’TSCHEWWW!! EH’GKKTSHIEWW!! IGGGSHHh!! HEH-ENGXT’TCHIEWW!! Jesus f-fukkk’KKKKSHIEWWW! EGK’KSSH’IIieEWW!”

His voice had cracked weakly on that last one. They were merciless, finally taking advantage of his lapsing defences to pour out of him, leaving him shaking, eyes and nose dripping. His palm was drenched, the mess threatening to flow down his wrist in rivulets. He needed a tissue – he needed to sit down and steel himself for the next round. Closing the toilet lid and tearing sheets of toilet paper to scrub at his palm, he hitched helplessly. He prayed the others couldn’t hear him, though a small part of him knew they probably could.

“Heh! Hih! Hh-HH-HDDT!! HIIID’SCHIeww!! EH’NGXT’tchiewww! AHT’chieww!! GISSSH’iewww!”

He buried his nose in the tissue paper, worrying at his nostrils frantically. Despite the embarrassment, despite the shame, despite the fear that he was already alienating himself from his newfound friends, he had to admit it felt good to really let go and sneeze out the tickles that had been torturing him all afternoon. When the sneezes gave him a small chance to breathe, he blew his nose, filling the tissues instantly. He pinched at his sore, buzzing nostrils and brought a new bundle to his face, letting further releases do as they would.

~~~~~~~~~~

The sneezes were starting to wind down now, after what Eddie guessed was about 10 minutes or so. He was exhausted, his entire face felt itchy, and he was so deeply ashamed he could die. It wasn’t like him, this total lack of confidence – he surprised even himself with how down in the dumps he was feeling. He supposed it was a testament to how much he cherished these new friendships. Not that it mattered now, he thought, grinding a knuckle against the side of his itchy nose.

A sudden knock on the door had him almost jumping out of his skin.

“Eddie? You…you okay, man?”

Shit. Steve. No, no, no, not now. He was the absolute last person he wanted to see him in this sorry state. He jumped to his feet and took in his reflection in the mirror, heart plummeting as his eyes scanned his flushed face, puffy eyes and swollen nose.

“Um…yeah, Steve, I’m – I’m fine.”

At least he didn’t sound nearly as congested as he felt. Sometimes blowing his nose nonstop caused his sinuses to almost swell shut under the abuse, but blessedly, mercifully, he sounded just about normal. If he could keep Steve behind that door and successfully convince him to leave, he could make a break for the front door – any door, any exit – and make his escape. Keep driving until he left the town, the state, the country.

“Could you open up, dude? I have some stuff that might help.”

Eddie blinked, stifled a silent sneeze against a raised finger. Stuff? What kind of stuff? Either way, he wasn’t letting Steve in.

“Honestly, Harrington, I’m just peachy keen. I’ll be out in a few, just-“

“Eddie. Come on. You’ve been in there for 15 minutes. I could hear you out in the hall. It sounds like you were having trouble breathing.”

If Eddie had been blushing before, it was nothing compared to rush of blood to his face right now. Steve could hear him? Steve had been listening to him sneeze and sniffle and blow his nose, Steve had been waiting in the hall? And if Steve could hear him, what about the others in the living room? Had he been loud enough to reach even them? Jesus fucking christ. His eyes prickled with tears anew, this time in emotional rather than physical distress.

“I’m fine, Steve. Please. Just leave me alone.”

His voice was thick with emotion. Great. Now Steve could hear him crying as well. God, he was a mess. It was just too much.

There was silence for a beat outside the door before he heard Steve reply in a soft but firm voice.

“I’m not leaving you alone. I’m worried about you – we all are. I have some water for you, some Claritin – Dustin said he’d seen you take that before – and I just want to help.”

Eddie shook his head, knowing Steve couldn’t see him but struggling to find his voice. Steve waited, and when no response came, Eddie heard him sigh.

“Fine. But I’m camping out right here, whenever you’re ready to come out. I can’t have you asphyxiating in my bathroom all alone.”

He wasn’t expecting this – wasn’t expecting genuine concern from Steve, or anyone, for that matter. But if Steve had heard him and the cacophony he’d been making and still didn’t walk away in disgust, maybe it would be ok. Before he could chicken out, Eddie reached for the door, unlocking it and opening it gingerly to peer out at Steve.

He watched Steve’s eyes do a quick scan of his face, an almost imperceptible expression of shock crossing his features – ow – before a look of warm concern took over.

“Hey, man. Can I…?” Steve gestured towards the bathroom. Eddie moved aside and closed the door behind them. Steve sat on the edge of the bathtub, waiting patiently for Eddie to take his seat on the closed lid of he toilet. The older man only then noticed the tall glass of ice water Steve was holding out to him. He took it and gulped it down greedily, not realising how much he’d needed it. Steve also held out the blister pack of antihistamines, but Eddie shook his head.

“Already taken too many. Won’t be able to drive home.”

“I’ll drive you home. Or better yet, you can stay here! Some of the kids are camping out in the living room tonight.”

Eddie vaguely remembered hearing something like that. But more importantly, his heart soared at Steve’s unwavering kindness towards him. He already knew he was a great guy, had witnessed it first-hand when everything had gone to shit a few months ago – maybe he just didn’t think he deserved the full force of Steve’s good will directed solely at him. The realisation of this shocked him. This shyness was so out of character, so not like him. Eddie rubbed the back of neck, not able to meet Steve’s gaze head on. Those baleful brown eyes would’ve melted him where he sat.

“Umm….I mean, if it’s not – if it’s not too much trouble? I’m not sure I’d be able to drive like – well, like this,” He gestured in the general direction of his face, “-even without taking the extra meds.” He flashed what he hoped was a convincing smile at Steve and relaxed slightly when the younger man seemed to perk up at the acceptance of his offer.

“It’s no trouble at all! I asked you first.” He chuckled softly and carded a hand through his perfect hair.

Eddie felt the all-too familiar Steve-induced butterflies returning. Steve smiled softly at him and he found himself smiling back. After a beat, Steve, as if suddenly remembering he was here on duty as a mother hen, shook his head and faced Eddie with a firm expression.

“But listen, man….why didn’t you tell us your allergies were this….extreme?”

Eddie didn’t miss the way Steve seemed to fluster slightly once he started discussing his allergies. He’d been the same at the diner, and then the parking lot. Again, Eddie ignored the growing suspicion blossoming in the back of his mind, convincing himself he was projecting his own twisted desires onto Steve. It was hard enough to talk about his allergies with his unfortunate crush – the possibility that this would potentially be like dirty talk to the other man was so wild he couldn’t – wouldn’t – entertain it. For now.

He sighed and looked down at his lap.

“I don’t know, Harrington, only because it’s probably the most humiliating thing ever? On top of being absolutely repulsive and a total downer. I guess I just…”

He paused for a moment, eyes not leaving their fixed gaze on his nervous fingers as they twisted the rings on his knuckles, round and round.

“…I guess I just didn’t want to push you all away with my – my afflictions.”

They sat in an uncomfortable silence for a few seconds longer before Steve exploded with a sudden, uncontrollable peal of laughter. Eddie’s head spun round at the sound, fixing Steve with a confused stare. That was definitely not the reaction he’d been expecting. He was vaguely aware that the dormant tickle in his sinuses was starting to creep back up on him but was so otherwise transfixed on Steve’s baffling amusement he couldn’t find the energy to care.

As if realising how out of the blue his reaction had been, Steve paused almost mid-laugh, coughing nervously into a raised fist, a slight blush dusting his tanned cheeks. Eddie continued to watch him, trying to decide if he should be offended or not.

“Sorry, sorry!” Steve started, pushing his hand through his hair again. “It’s just – that’s so ridiculous, Eds! You’re not repulsive. You’re not gonna push us away. You’re not gonna push me away. You can’t help it.”

Before Eddie had a chance for the words to fully sink in, the tickle crested and he gasped with it.

“Sorry, I gotta-! Engxt’tchieww! IGKT’tiew!! Eh’TCHIEW!! Ugh, Jesus…”

He ripped another wad of tissues from the painfully depleted roll and dabbed at his damp nostrils, not wanting to blow his nose in front of Steve, even knowing he’d been listening to him before. He flashed a sheepish smile at the younger man.

“’Scuse me. Couldn’t hold that back.”

Steve visibly shuddered. Shuddered. Now that, Eddie could not ignore. Was that a shudder of revulsion? Surely it wasn’t-? It couldn’t be-?

“…’S’okay. Bless you.”

Steve’s voice was thick with some kind of emotion, so guttural it was almost a purr. His eyes were fixed on Eddie with a gaze so intense, so burning, that the older man almost shriveled under it. He wasn’t even sure Steve was aware of the way he was looking at him – heavy lidded, intoxicated, almost. Like a cat that got the cream. Eddie’s eyes drifted down to Steve’s crotch and saw, to his absolute surprise and utter arousal, that Steve’s cock was trying its absolute best to make itself known within the confines of his tight Levi jeans. Holy fuck.

He looked back up at Steve’s face with an incredulous grin, and it was Steve’s turn to shrink under his gaze. The ex-jock opened and closed his mouth several times, clumsily crossing his legs in a poor attempt to disguise his arousal, but the damage had been done. Eddie couldn’t brush this off as projection any longer. If there was a clearer sign that Steve was into his sneezes than popping an enormous boner and whispering a blessing to Eddie in a voice he imagined Steve had used to tell his girls to suck him harder, take him deeper, he’d sure like to see it. Holy shit. Steve was turned on by this. Holy shit. Holy shit.

“Uhmmm, sorry dude, haha, you know how it is sometimes – has a life all of its own, damn thing.”

Steve stutters lamely, eyes darting all over, anywhere but on Eddie, and Eddie relishes in the relief of his own humiliation seeping out of him while Steve picked up the slack. It was pretty sadistic of him, he had to admit, but he just couldn’t care – all of his insecurity, all the fear of losing Steve (though he couldn’t be certain of the others) had melted away entirely. Right now, he was riding the high, the suggestion of what this wonderful discovery meant for the both of them. He continued to grin, beaming so brilliantly the Cheshire Cat would be put to shame.

“I get you, Harrington. Guy problems, am I right, big boy?”

Though he blushed at the nickname (perhaps slightly more poignant than Eddie had originally intended), Steve seemed to buy it. Eddie wanted to laugh but held back. Poor Steve. He was truly, utterly adorable, especially in this frazzled state. Eddie couldn’t wait to tease him for the rest of allergy season, genuinely starting to look forward to it for the first time in his life.

“R-right. Um, I’m gonna, go tell the others you’re okay – they were worried – and, we’ll wait for you.”

Steve stood (erection flagging noticeably, Eddie observed), and put a shaking hand on Eddie’s shoulder before squeezing it gently. He cast a quick glance at Eddie over his shoulder on the way out, and then he was gone.

Eddie sat for a moment, collecting his thoughts and calming himself as much as he could in an attempt to settle his own reciprocal erection that Steve had (thankfully) missed. He splashed his face with water, sneezed a few more times, and after a long moment of deliberation, decided to take the extra medication. As much as he would like to monitor Steve’s reaction to his lingering sneezes, they would be surrounded by their friends – most of whom were literal children – and he didn’t trust himself to contain his own reaction, giddy as this most arousing confirmation had made him. It would be better for all involved if he passed out, in the end.

Eventually, he made his way back to the living room, where he was showered with copious concerned comments and playful jabs at his expense. He was still relatively embarrassed, but the genuine affection he felt radiating from every person in the room mollified him almost entirely. Things were really going to be ok. Feeling soft and mushy, he took his seat next to Steve and welcomed the sleep that not even the screams of the kids on the floor, enthralled by the demonic antics of ‘The Return of the Living Dead’, could shake him from. He dozed, peacefully, anchored by the warmth of Steve’s thigh as it pressed up against his own.