#sick s/teve

[whumpybucky]

A little while ago @softersteve mentioned how there is so little sick Steve content and that it made her sad. I felt like that needed to be fixed so this is for her.

3.5K of an idiots-in-love grad school AU with Steve being so sick with a head cold and so sad pining over his best friend, Bucky, who is so soft for him and also pining. There’s a happy ending I promise.

“Hel–” Steve had to break his greeting to clear his throat, which turned into a rough cough. He winced, half with pain from the lingering ache in his tonsils, half from embarrassment. “Sorry, hey, Buck.”

“Well, now I know why you’ve stood me up for the first time ever. How’ya feeling?”

Steve closed his eyes and rolled back onto the pillows he had been dozing on for the past two days. His brow was furrowed as he rubbed his palm across it.

“I’mb fide,” he replied, cringing at the rounded consonants. “Is it Thursday? Gosh I’mb really sorry—snf SNFF! Coulda sworn it was Wednesday…” Steve trailed off, the statement directed more to himself than his friend.

He and Bucky always met up on Thursdays during the break before his weekly seminar and Bucky’s TA office hours. They started the recurring date (though Steve had to constantly remind himself it wasn’t an actual date) at the beginning of the semester. Thursdays quickly became Steve’s favourite day of the week.

His head immediately filled with the image of Bucky sitting at their favourite loveseat, two steaming mugs of tea on the coffee table in front of him, getting lost in people watching as folks hurried past the café, bundled up in wool and scarves and toques. Handsome, brunette Bucky, alone and waiting for Steve to show up.

His chest tightened with guilt for standing his best friend up. And a longing seeped between his ribs at missing out on their time together.

“Sorry, pal, but it’s definitely Thursday. Jeez, why didn’t you tell me you were this sick, Stevie?”

Steve’s heart clenched at his friend’s concern and the nickname. “It’s ju-huh–SNFF! Just a cold, Buck.” He grabbed a handful of fresh tissues and pressed them to his nose, hoping to quell the buzzing in his sinuses.

“A cold that I gave you, so I know for a fact that it’s a bad one. How ‘bout I bring our tea date to you?”

Steve could feel the tingling intensify, it was a losing battle. “H-hold on Bu-huh!… HUH’shiew! EHShhh! HUUHTSCHOO!”

The triplet fell out of him before he even had time to cover his mouth fully with the tissues. Instead, he made the most futile attempt at directing the increasingly strong sneezes away from the phone. After catching his breath, Steve blew his nose a few times before returning his focus back to the conversation—though the action brought little relief and only seemed to move the congestion around his sinuses.

“Guh, sorry, that mbust have sounded gross.”

“Poor Stevie. Don’t apologize, you don’t sound gross, you sound so sick. Speaking of which, what tea do you want me to bring you?”

Steve almost whined at how sweet Bucky was being, acting as if he wasn’t completely disgusted by what a mess he obviously was.

“Really, you don’t need to come over, Buck– snff SNFFF! –I’mb just going to sniffle and sneeze and cough at you and then probably end up falling asleep. Again.”

Steve cleared his throat which immediately turned into another dry, weak cough, as if his body was trying to help him prove his point. He heard Bucky sigh through the receiver and his chest tightened more.

“Just like I did with you last weekend. Remember last weekend? When you came over and watched movies with me and took care of me for two days straight? Seriously, Steven–” another sigh, “I feel so bad for getting you sick. Let me at least bring you tea. Or soup? Or maybe that natural apple juice I always tease you for still liking?”

The soft pleading in Bucky’s voice nearly pushed Steve over the edge.

The love he felt for his best friend since high school had become a challenge to suppress on the best of days. But now that he was on day three of the worst cold he’d had in ages, probably running a low grade fever, and feeling absolutely miserable? Well, it was too much for the blonde grad student to bear.

Why did Bucky have to be so nice? So caring? So sensitive? So thoughtful?

In that moment of pure and utter weakness, Steve was grateful Bucky had phoned him instead of a video call. Otherwise he would have had a difficult time explaining the stream of tears suddenly making a path down his flushed cheeks.

He sniffled into the ball of tissues he was still holding before responding. “I…sn-snffff… I’ll be fide, Buck. Really. Y-you don’t n-need SNF! don’t need to...”

Steve’s breath was hitching as he tried to quell the threatening sob bubbling in his throat. He hoped to the powers that be that it sounded as if he was about to sneeze rather than burst into tears.

“But I want to,” Bucky insisted. Soft, quiet, with a timbre of sadness.

Bucky’s admission hung between them as Steve sniffled into his crumpled tissues and, for a fleeting instance of relief, calmed the ache in his chest that wasn’t from his cold.

Maybe he could try to get off the couch and clean himself up a bit. Maybe take a shower. Tidy up the mound of tissues he had accumulated over the past few days that now surrounded his nest of blankets. Maybe he could give in to being taken care of by his best friend. Maybe he could let himself have that.

But a final sigh from Bucky broke the pause.

“Look, I don’t want to push you, especially when you’re not feeling good. But please text or call me if you need something. Anything. Promise?”

Dammit.

“I promise,” Steve replied, his congested voice weighted with defeat.

“I’ll call to check on you later, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Get some rest, Stevie.”

“Thangks, Buck.”

Steve pressed the end call button just as the dam burst.

He knew crying was only going to worsen his symptoms but he couldn’t hold it in any longer. The stress of nearing the end of term. The pending holidays. Being in love with his best friend who he was certain didn’t love him like that. It becoming increasingly harder to be around said best friend because of said unreciprocated feelings.

Throw in a horrendous cold with a persistent low grade fever and Steve found himself smack in the middle of the perfect storm for a total and utter emotional meltdown.

He sobbed and sniffled his way through the remainder of the last box of tissues he had, having to reuse the balls around him until the skin around his nostrils was so irritated and his cheekbones and forehead were so sore from the combination of congestion and crying and fever that he simply fell asleep with a fist of used Kleenex pressed against his nose.

__________

Bucky dragged his feet into his shared office with his fellow TA, Natasha. The two had met during their undergrad, while Steve was out of state on scholarship. They became fast friends, almost like siblings, eventually getting an apartment together just off campus.

It hadn’t taken long for Natasha to put two and two together about Bucky’s feelings for Steve. And if there had been any doubt, it was dispelled during second year when Natasha watched him plummet into a deep depression when Steve told him about a brief fling he had with a cute engineering student named Tony.

When Steve moved back home and started grad school at the same university as them, Natasha had warned Bucky that she wasn’t going to spend grad school watching him pine over his best friend. Three terms in and that’s exactly what she was doing.

“I can feel you moping from here, Barnes,” the redhead murmured without looking up from her laptop. “Did loverboy cancel your tea date?”

Bucky’s brow crinkled as he removed his jacket and shoulder bag, the faded royal blue canvas one that Steve had bought him last Christmas that was becoming worn in all the right places. He slumped into his chair with a huff.

“I told you not to call him that. You’re going to let it slip one day when he’s around.”

“Would that be the worst thing?” Natasha smirked over the screen of her laptop.

Bucky sighed into his hands, rubbing his face in frustration.

“We talked about this. No meddling. Besides, he didn’t cancel…” Bucky’s hands dropped to his lap as he shifted his gaze to the small window of their office. Students bundled up, crossing the quad. A faint flurry swirling around them. “He didn’t show up,” Bucky mumbled.

That made the redhead finally give Bucky her full attention. “James, I’m sure there—”

“He’s super sick,” Bucky cut her off, turning towards his roommate to meet her gaze. “He didn’t even know what day it was, Tash.” His blue eyes were a sea of worry as he subconsciously rubbed his hands up and down his jean clad thighs.

Bucky flinched at the sound of Natasha’s laptop slamming shut. The smile on her face at least told Bucky he wasn’t in for one of her I’m done with your lovesick pining lectures.

“So you’re here because why, exactly?”

“He kept saying I didn’t need to go over. I didn’t want to push him…” Bucky suddenly felt like a scolded child and his head dropped into his hands again.

“Jamie, roomie, bestie. We’ve been over this.”

“I knoooow,” he moaned, looking back up at his friend. “But what if—”

“Nope, not doing this again. He’s literally sick because he doted on you all weekend long.”

“He’d do that for anyone.”

“Not a chance. Remember that summer when we were all at the cabin and Tony, Sam, and I all got some stomach bug that somehow evaded you two?”

Bucky nodded.

“He wouldn’t even come near us and made you two sleep in a tent outside because he didn’t want to risk ruining your vacation.” Natasha emphasized the last part with her best impression of Steve’s concerned voice.

Bucky stared blankly at her, a faint blush stroke appearing across his cheeks.

“You like him, he likes you, stop stalling and go take care of the poor guy,” she directed, opening her laptop again.

Bucky could have sworn he saw an eye roll. He sat still for a moment, processing everything Natasha had just told him. Then he shook his head. “But office hours. I have—”

“I’m merging them into my schedule as we speak. Go, before I change my mind.”

This was it then. In one fluid motion, Bucky jumped up from his chair, hopped over to Natasha’s desk and pressed a chaste kiss to the top of her head—which she batted away—then turned and scooped up his jacket and bag as he rushed towards their door. He paused for an instant, free hand on the knob.

“Thanks, Tash. Really.”

“Go get the guy, Barnes” she smiled, a rare moment of softness shining through her normally surly exterior.

Bucky didn’t have to be told twice. He nodded once before turning on his heel and out of their shared office.

__________

Steve was suspended between sleep and waking. He was vaguely aware of the dull ache in his head and sinuses, the scratch in his throat. But there was also something soothing. A gentle touch running through his hair. A soft voice, luring him to reality.

Was he dreaming?

A dry cough that only seemed to irritate his throat more pulled him fully awake. Then the voice.

“Hey Stevie. Sorry to wake you, but I think you might need some meds.”

Definitely not dreaming then.

Steve’s eyes fluttered open as he finished coughing into the ball of tissues he had fallen asleep holding. Everything still felt delayed.

“Hey Buck,” he croaked out. Though as soon as the greeting left his lips, his eyes widened as his brain finally caught up to the fact of his friend’s presence.

Bucky. Was here. In his apartment. Sitting on the chaise part of the couch Steve had fallen asleep on after his sob fest over his unrequited love. The best friend who was carding fingers through his probably very greasy hair. The best friend who was looking down at him with the most heartwarming expression, despite being surrounded by clusters of Steve's used tissues.

“Oh mby god, Buck!” Steve sputtered as he pushed himself up into a half sitting half leaning position, trying to put distance between them in hopes that Bucky hadn’t fully registered just how disgusting he must look at this moment. The movement caused a sudden shift in congestion and he felt his sinuses start to tingle. He pressed the tattered ball of tissues into his chapped nostrils.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” Bucky offered, his hand falling back down to his lap.

“Snf SNF! What are you doing here?” The question came out more as a whine.

“You’re sick, I’m here to take care of you.” Bucky reinforced the matter of fact statement by holding up a canvas shopping bag that Steve hadn’t noticed until now. He then dropped the bag on his lap and started sorting through it as he continued, “Brought you some meds, the ones left over from what you brought me last weekend. The tea you always order when you’re feeling low. That raspberry oat muffin you like so much. A jug of apple juice. Soup. And some tissues—the soft ones you never buy yourself—which it looks like you need,” he finished, not unkindly, as he lifted his head up and noticed Steve’s fluttering eyes.

“Y-you didn’t ha-ha… hngxxt! Hngsht! Hngxxxsshh!”

Bucky quickly fished out the new box of tissues he had brought. “Don’t stifle, you know that just makes you sneeze more. Here,” he instructed as he pressed a handful into Steve’s palm.

Steve nodded in gratitude, eyes closing as he descended into another fit.

“Hshhmmpfff! Hngtshhh! Eishh! Tishh, tshh, ISHH!” His breath was suspended, hitching desperately as he finally brought the fresh tissues to his face. He dropped the used ball he had been holding and cupped both hands around his face just in time.

“HUH… HUUUH’HURRSSHOOOOO!” The last sneeze took him over so completely that Steve slumped sideways into the back of the couch in defeat. He muttered an “oh mby god,” before blowing his nose several times, giving up on trying to protect his friend from the grossness that was his body at this point.

“Jesus, Steve. Bless you, like ten times over.”

“Don’t have to keep count,” Steve huffed between nose blows.

Bucky chuckled at his friend’s annoyance. But he didn’t hesitate to continue his caretaking, leaning in to brush away the hair that had fallen into Steve’s face during the fit. Though upon making contact, his brow furrowed and he placed his palm across the blonde’s forehead once he had successfully pushed the hair back.

“Definitely feels like you're running a little temperature there. When was the last time you took something?” His inquiry was laden with concern.

Steve was done putting up defenses and leaned into the cool touch. Then he sniffled and coughed feebly into the now crumpled tissues before finally dropping his hands into his lap. He blinked at Bucky, simultaneously trying to recall the last time he took something and still reeling from the fit.

“Snf! Don’t know… mbabey yesterday? Or the day before?” His voice dropped and his eyes went down to his lap before adding, “I ran out.”

Bucky sighed. “What about the last time you ate something?”

Guilt flashed across Steve’s face as he looked up again. “Last night I think.”

Another sigh left Bucky’s mouth. He hesitated, but only for a moment, before moving his palm to cup Steve’s rose flushed cheek. Then he responded, barely above a whisper, “You should have called me.”

Steve returned the sigh. “Didn’t want to bother you.”

“You could never be a bother, sweetheart. You’re my guy.”

Sweetheart? My guy? Maybe he was dreaming.

An unexpected sneeze surfaced out of nowhere, forcing him to pull away from Bucky’s touch and turn his mouth into the couch cushions.

“Snf! Sorry, snfffff!”

“Nothin’ to apologize for. I should be apologizing to you, since I’m the reason you’re so sick.”

Oh, so that’s why he was here. Steve’s heart sank.

“Don’t need to feel guilty, Buck. Would’ve happened eventually. SNF! You don’t need to do this.”

“How many times do I have to tell you? I want to.”

Even though he had a low grade fever, mixed with the low blood sugar and the grogginess of being couch ridden the past two days, it was his friend’s soft words and touches that seemed to squash every insecurity he had that was making his head spin.

Surely he was reading this wrong. Bucky was just here ‘cause he’s a good guy.

“But… but I’mb so gross right now. I’mb sure you have better things to do.” Steve brought the fresh tissues that Bucky had placed into his hand after that last sneeze up to his nose, hiding behind them.

“Like what?”

Steve sniffled, nerves delaying him from voicing what was running through his head. “I dunno… going on a date or something?”

Bucky balked at that, a look of genuine offense rippling across his face before his features softened once again.

“And who would I go on a date with?” he pressed. He really wasn’t going to let Steve win this one.

The gears turned as Steve tried to figure out a way out of this hole of a conversation he had dug himself into. “What about that guy Clint? From your first year lecture. You two went out a few times, no?” He asked sheepishly, still hiding behind the tissues.

“Oh, you mean the guy that confirmed that I only have room for one hot blonde in my life?” Bucky’s smile was unfaltering, if not slightly mischievous.

Steve shook his head, unsure if he heard his friend correctly. The action must have bothered his stuffy sinuses because a triplet burst out of him before he even had time to register it was coming.

“Huh’shmmph! EISHhhhh! HURSSHHIEW!” He blew his nose before finally letting the tissues drop. “God, this cold! This is the worst.”

He knew his complaining was allowing him to avoid the elephant in the room, but he couldn’t go there. He couldn’t bear it if he was interpreting this all wrong.

“I dunno… might not be all bad.”

Steve scoffed.

“I mean, I’m here aren’t I?” Bucky asked softly, brushing a thumb across Steve’s warm cheek.

The blonde’s breath hitched at the intimate touch. “Buck,” he whispered.

“Steven,” Bucky answered, sounding so sure of himself.

“I… I don’t understand.”

Could it be?

“Sure you do, Stevie. I want to take care of you. And not just now, but… always. If that’s what you want.”

Steve couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Tears pooled at the corner of his already red and puffy eyes. “Buck… I…”

“I know, sweetheart. Trust me, I know.”

“How… how long?”

“A long time. Too long,” Bucky admitted. He let his hand drop, but Steve caught it mid air. A heavy pause hung between them as they searched each others’ eyes for a sign. Anything that might show uncertainty. Neither of them found one.

Steve’s heart was pounding so hard he was sure it would break through his ribcage and out of his chest at any moment. He finally broke the silence.

“I want that. You have no idea how much I want that.”

The relief that flooded Bucky’s face was palpable. “And you have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that.” He clasped both hands around Steve’s.

“God, if it wasn’t for this cold I’d—”

Steve was cut off by Bucky’s lips crashing into his. They were soft, tender, warm. They kissed him slowly, hesitant at first, but then assured and strong without being forceful. It was just like Steve had imagined in early morning hours in bed, only infinitely better. It made his stomach flutter and warmth pool in his abdomen.

“Could get used to that,” Bucky whispered into Steve’s lips before breaking the kiss to allow his congested friend to catch his breath.

“That was…” Steve couldn’t find the right words.

“Yeah, it was.”

Before he could stop himself, Steve turned his entire body and wrapped his arms around Bucky, pulling him so that they were both leaning against the couch. He pressed his head into Bucky’s chest and sniffled wetly, overcome by the emotions of it all.

Bucky melted into the embrace, his arms wrapping tightly around Steve, one hand rubbing his back while the other gently stroked the nape of his neck. “My poor sick guy.”

They sat in quiet for a long while, holding each other, reveling in one another’s warmth.

It was Bucky that finally broke their silence, after leaning down to press his lips into Steve’s forehead and feeling the warmth still radiating.

“Babydoll, you need meds.”

“Hmmm, like those names,” Steve mumbled into Bucky’s sweater.

Bucky chuckled. “Yeah? Good. But seriously, let me go for just a sec so I can get you some water and something to eat with it.”

Steve only tightened his grip. “Five mbore mbinutes, Buck.”

Bucky sighed contentedly into the firm embrace. “‘Kay, Stevie, five more minutes. Then meds.”

“Deal,” Steve agreed, before adding, “Just got you. Not ready to let go yet.”

Bucky readjusted his arms as tight as he could around Steve. “You’ve always had me, sweetheart. And always will, for as long as you want me.”

[softsnzstuff]

Choose Your Own Ending Fic 2

Coming in hot with some sick!Eddie and snzknk!Steve.

Eddie has a cold when Steve arrives for their date. Does Eddie (A) Go through with the date despite being sick? Or (B) Have a fluffy night in with his boyfriend? You get to decide!!! Collab with @bewitchedfeathers

*******************************************************

Eddie stood in the kitchen, hovering tentatively by the phone.

Wayne had noticed the boy lingering and decided to bite the bullet and ask, “Everything okay kid?”

“Huh?” Eddie had forgotten Wayne was there. “Oh yeah umm I’m just not sure if I should call Steve?”

Eddie was really looking forward to tonight’s date with Steve to the movies, but he’d been losing the fight against a cold for a few days now.

“HNG’tchew! Tsschiew! HEH’TSCHIEW!” Eddie buckled at the waist, just barely catching his sneezes in his elbow.

“Well if you keep doing that…” Wayne began.

Just then there was a knock at the door. Damn Steve and his tendency to arrive slightly early for everything.

Eddie sniffled heavily and went to answer the door. Steve was in a nice polo and jeans. The perfect counterpart to Eddie’s ripped jeans with tee shirt and flannel.

“Hey Eds! You ready to hit the movies?” He asked cheerfully.

“Yeah, just gimme one minute - igtsschiew! Tsschiew!” Eddie turned away from the door.

“Feeling alright babe?”

[nametakensff]

I know I'm delusional and it will never happen in this lifetime but wouldn't it be fucking neat if in s5 of s/tranger t/hings for just no reason whatsoever s/teve h/arrington develops the sneeziest headcold ever. And then everything that's happening just happens and he has to deal with it all. All the stress and drama and potential injuries. Whilst also sneezing and blowing his nose. Swooning a little when his temperature spikes. I just think that would be fun 🤪

[minteacutie]

10, 16, and 19 for steve!

10. How do they respond to somebody blessing them? (This is the blesscanons question.) I think Steve over thinks his responses, like first he just kind of forgets to respond and then he realize that he should have said something but he wonders if it’s been too long to say something. Then he just doesn’t say anything and feels awkward about it for the next twenty minutes. This mostly happens if he’s distracted otherwise he’ll thank the person. 16. How often do they get sick? I feel like Steve thought he had a good immune system but when he started hanging out with other people and around middle schoolers realized that his old friends just had really good immune systems. 🤣 He catches more things in winter/fall and early spring when it’s still cold but every once in a blue moon he’ll catch a summer cold. 19. Do they have any weird beliefs or superstitions about illness? (e.g. the rain thing, or going outside with wet hair...” I feel like he’s definitely very picky about going out with wet hair, wether it be himself, the kids or Robin. No one goes out with wet hair with Steve around. Also he always makes sure everyones dressed for the weather, sometimes at the cost of his own health. Steve definitely lends out his jackets a lot with the ideology that someone else needs them more than he does, even though he gets sick more than Robin, Eddie and the kids. 🤣 

[butyoumakemesohot]

I love the whole idea of S/teve never letting himself fully sneeze because "H/arringtons never get sick." So imagine he's a habitual stifler (or at least attempts it) until E/ddie basically forces him to stop & is like "There. Now isn't that better? It's ok, you know."

i absolutely adore this trope, i hope i did this prompt justice! here are about 1.3k words of sick st/eve and caretaker ed/die :)

“Y’know, I’ve never seen anyone look so goddamn cute and ridiculous at the same time.”

Steve jumps at the sound of Eddie’s voice, sluggishly wiping his nose against the back of his hand. His nose is red, cheeks flushed, hair flattened from spending the past twelve hours in bed. Still, there’s a sheepish smile on his face that makes Eddie’s heart skip a beat.

“Go away, Mbunsond. *snrf!* I’mb a biohazard.”

“Oh, please,” Eddie says with a wave of his hand. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

Steve’s refusing to make eye contact with Eddie, even as the longer haired boy saunters over to his bed from the doorway. Eddie pouts down at him, setting a few supplies down on his nightstand before placing a comforting hand on Steve’s arm.

“I brought you some soup,” Eddie offers. “Some weird old recipe from Wayne’s side of the family. It has, like, twenty different herbs in it.”

“Souds real appetizig,” Steve deadpans.

Eddie chuckles, giving Steve’s arm a tug until he eventually gives in and turns to face him. Eddie can’t help but smile even wider upon looking into Steve's eyes - they’re a little duller than normal, but still big and brown and sparkling the way Eddie’s used to.

“There he is,” Eddie coos.

“Eddie, I’mb serious, you should probably –” Steve freezes, lifting his hands up to cup over the bottom half of his face. “Hn’KTCHH! H’mpTCH! Uhh… Hn’TSHHh!”

The sneezes are powerful enough to send a shiver down Steve’s spine, and it even seems like it takes a second for him to recover from the way he forces them down. It looks... painful.

“Damn. Blessings and tidings, sweetheart.”

Steve thanks him quietly, swiping at his nose again. Eddie sighs, deciding enough is enough – he will comfort his sick and stubborn boyfriend, even if it’s against his will. He begins toeing off his winter boots, happy when the loud thump of them landing on Steve’s floor urges Steve to look at him again.

“*snrk!* What’re you doig?”

“Move over, Harrington. We’re cuddling, germs be damned.”

To Eddie’s surprise, Steve only seems to contemplate this for a couple of seconds before rolling to one side of his bed, tenting the sheets with his arm so that Eddie will join him under the covers. If Steve weren’t already so visibly self conscious at the idea of anyone witnessing him so struck down by a head cold, Eddie would laugh at the reindeer sweater he’s got on to keep warm.

He does, however, give Steve’s cheek a teasing, affectionate squeeze once he’s laying next to him. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“Yeah.” Steve hums, twirling a strand of Eddie’s hair around his fingers. “Mbissed you today, Mbunsond.”

“The feeling’s mutual.” He pauses, noting the way Steve’s features have begun to twist up again. “Bless –”

“Hn’KTCHH… H’TSCHHh! Hh’TCHH!” 

“Damn it. I was almost done saying it.”

Steve muffles a groan into his cupped hands. “Sorry, this is so – Hh’TSHH! Hn’KSHHh! Ugh… *snrff!* - so gross… H’mpTCHH! Hh’PTCHHh!”

“No sorrys, Stevie,” Eddie murmurs, passing him another tissue. Steve allows another shiver to pass through him, dabbing at his now dripping nose as gently as possible. Eddie can feel his chest tighten again; Steve’s still a cutie, that’s for sure, but up close, he looks absolutely miserable.

“Hey,” Eddie says. “Sit up with me, yeah?”

Steve blinks at him. “Uh. Okay.”

Eddie sits up before Steve can finish doing so, propping up each of their pillows so they’ll have something supportive to lean back on. He waits patiently for Steve to get comfortable, somewhat honored when he chooses to rest his tired head against Eddie’s shoulder.

“There. Isn’t it a bit easier to breathe through your nose now?”

“Actually, yeah.” Steve gives a tentative sniffle – it’s clear his nose is still running, but he sounds a bit less congested. “Thangks, Ed.”

“No problem. And, uh, stop doing that shit when you sneeze.”

“What? What do you mbead?”

Eddie knows that Steve is grateful his face is hidden from view, otherwise he’d probably witness the boy’s cheeks turn an even brighter shade of red, and Steve would rather die than admit to feeling any form of embarrassment.

Then, as if on cue, he stifles a couple of sudden sneezes as best as he can, hands automatically flying up to cover his face. “H’KTCHHh! Hh’TSHHH!”

“See?! That’s exactly what I’m talking about. You’re gonna hurt yourself, babe.”

Steve groans, wiping harshly at his nose with his now crumpled tissue. “Sorry. *snrfff!* I just –”

“Hey,” Eddie says gently. “What did I say about sorrys?”

Steve pauses, then nods slowly before continuing. “I guess I’mb… I dond’t kndow. It’s already mbiserable edough beig sick. I feel so gross. I dod’t wadt you - *snnrk!* to see mbe like that.”

“And yet here I am, butting my way into your life yet again.”

Steve smiles, poking Eddie’s arm defiantly. “I wadt you here, Eds.”

“Then I’m definitely gonna be around for a while. As long as you’ll have me, anyhow.” Eddie clears his throat, reaching down to brush some hair out of Steve’s face. “You could never be gross to me. Besides, Lord knows I’ve embarrassed myself plenty in front of you. Not that you should feel that way about yourself right now.”

Steve nods again, seeming to ponder Eddie’s words in silence for a few seconds, before letting out a stuffy laugh. “Rebember whed you got super stoned ad ate an entire batch of your uncle’s hobembade browdies?”

“Dude, Wayne was so fuckin’ pissed.” Eddie grins at the sound of Steve’s laughter. “See? Not only is being sick a totally normal thing that happens to everyone, but it would make me a major hypocrite to be, like, even slightly embarrassed or grossed out by you.”

Steve goes quiet again, then leans up to press a grateful kiss against Eddie’s jawline. Eddie slings an arm around his shoulders in response, squeezing him further into his side as the two fall into a comfortable silence.

Then, after a few more minutes, Steve’s breath starts to hitch. He turns away from Eddie, but the older boy can’t help but notice the way he’s opted for covering his face with the crook of his elbow rather than his hands.

“Huh’gGSCHHh! He’PSCHIEWW! Ehh… Heh’TSCHHhoo!”

“Bless you,” Eddie says, trying not to sound too smug. It’s not often people actually adhere to his words of wisdom.

Steve thanks him, accepting the tissue that Eddie passes him. He opts to blow his nose, instantly wincing at the loud gurgling sound it makes; but when he looks back at Eddie, his expression is only filled with adoration and sympathy. He even takes the used tissue when Steve’s done, placing it on the nightstand before pressing a clean one into Steve’s hand in case he needs it.

“Better?” he asks.

Steve nods, feeling much more relaxed as he curls into Eddie’s side again. “Mbuch. Do you - *snrrf!* - mide if I sleep a little bit?”

“Not at all. Just promise me you’ll eat some soup when you wake up, yeah? Wayne worked really hard on it.”

Steve chuckles, already nodding off against Eddie’s chest. “Okay. For Wayde, though. Ndot for you.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, but Steve can feel the smile on his lips when he leans down to kiss his forehead. “I’ll take it.”

[sleptwithinthesun]

i feel that it's time to complete the set. hopefully, you know what it is. s/teve h/arrington c/hicago au snzcanons.

- no sneezing pattern. ranges from singles to triples, but it's really just unpredictable. triples are rare, but happen often enough that it's not exactly surprising when they happen

- has the most DRAMATIC buildups ever. this fuckin' guy

- cannot stifle to save his life.

- absolutely has dad sneezes. i'm sorry b/c i do make the rules but like... i'm unlikely to write snz content for steve so it doesn't matter.

- gets sensitive? like, if he's being triggered by an allergen or is sick, it's usually not too hard to make him sneeze

- steve kind of shudders into his sneezes, meaning that he won't bend into them but he will move with them, if that makes sense

- sneezes into his elbow! good job sir

- is fine with being sick. honestly, steve's the only one who genuinely doesn't mind being sick, mostly because his partners dote on him and they're generally very sweet :)

- runs warm. very warm. not enough to be considered feverish, but he's like. a full degree above the average person and is pretty much a space heater. can be very nice or very bad to sleep with

- gets sick once or twice a year, nothing more or less than normal

- illness for him is usually nothing or mildly Bad

- allergic to mold, but it's rarely, RARELY an issue for him

- embarrassed about his sneezes just because they're loud

you can tell i am tired. finished my big final earlier today, so i am fucking exhausted lol. hope these were okay; i do enjoy steve as a character but not making him sneeze ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[demoanais]

st has been going exponentially downhill since after s1, but i've been power skimming through s4 and i want to vent

if they didn't have winona ryder's name & performance to attach to the show in s1, i think they would have had a harder time getting the mainstream audience they have now. but she gets sidelined over and over again, and now she has nothing to do but run after h/opper (with loathsome m/urray) while the us military almost guns down her children in her own home. and i say this as someone who wants jopper together

i really liked the s/teve/jonathan/n/ancy trio fighting the demigorgon in s1 and thought it was a highlight as much as anyone else, and i'll always support turning around antagonists, but i'm tired of s/teve as a concept. it's so clear they have nothing for him to do or be but he's popular so he gets to stick around (and apparently retread something with n/ancy??) he's less a character than joe k/eery being himself in vintage jeans (not that lack of substantive characterization isn't a problem for other main cast members, but it's more grating for him)

i don't want any more new male characters. they're all self indulgent and they just waste more screentime. is that why this season is so needlessly long? to fit in all these new people (white males) that we're forced to care about because the plot demands it? if you ever need reminding about who's running this show, there it is. why does it matter that satanic panic was a thing during this era? does it have to specifically drive the story now? is that why d/ustin and m/ike fall back into d&d when w/ill was chewed out for still being into it before? mostly to justify e/ddie's existence?

speaking of justifying e/ddie's existence (and j/ason's for that matter), if i have to see another girl's mutilated corpse one more time... chrissy has an eating disorder so we sympathize with her and care when she's killed, but that's too bothersome to deal with if she stays alive. so instead she's killed so that e/ddie (and j/ason) have something to do and a reason to interact with the established cast, and in e/ddie's case a reason for the established cast to rally around him and protect him (also someone else to sing s/teve's praises). it's a very introduce-my-self-insert-OC-as-a-cousin-of-a-main-character-so-everyone-has-to-pay-attention thing to do. neither e/ddie nor j/ason nor chrissy existed until now, but only chrissy dies to create a plot for the other two (men). what's it called when this happens?

i haven't finished the s4 episodes that are out yet, so i don't know if they ever explain why b/renner is alive. but i doubt they do. i'm so sick of eleven being sucked back in with these disgusting people, slimy o/wens too, papa this papa that, vile. why take away her powers if you can give them back so easily? it was just a detour about doubting m/ike's love? and now it's being undone so who cares. i'm not saying i don't want her powers restored, but the way she was cornered and dishonestly coerced into it is rotten

i have no idea what their problem is with jonathan. i hate the stupid stoner bit they have going with a/rgyle. i also hate how it's impossible to openly criticize popular content without people being willfully obtuse. i asked a simple yes/no question on reddit about whether or not nyu is mentioned again (i was confused about the emerson vs. community college thing in e2) and anyone who replied just launched into a defensive stance about how emerson is just as good for photojournalism as nyu or how jonathan is allowed to change his mind about something he liked as a kid or a reminder that he explained he wants to stay close to his family. none of which remotely explain why nyu isn't on the table vs. emerson with n/ancy. i know why they did it, because it adds unnecessary relationship drama for jancy, but does it have to be at the expense of what seemed to be a significant character goal for jonathan?

i hate how things have become even more gory and the scenes are interspersed more frequently than before. it makes it harder to avoid seeing gruesome stuff when the show didn't use to rely so much on gross out

i also hate how w/ill is still an emotional torture punching bag. when has he suffered enough, given up enough of his childhood? i know m/ike is also getting older and it's harder to maintain close friendships at a distance like anything else, but i still think at heart he's a kind person. i wasn't sold on that with the thin apology to w/ill or his waffling with eleven. i think it's a disservice to all three characters

d/uffers claim they had this planned out until s5, not even slightly believable. the only thing they had in mind initially was a standard male coming of age 80s nostalgia trip where one weird girl who vanishes as quickly as she appeared changes the lives of four boys over one crazy summer. she's sadly dead but their world will never be the same. virgin suicides for nerdy little boys. so many retcons and plot holes keep surfacing, why even pretend it was always meant to happen this way? of course, all 'miniseries' end up making this claim when their success allows them to run until the wheels fall off

i know successful actors as a whole are a privileged class, but r/obin and the obvious nepotism casting annoy me. i thought she was alright in s3, if not a little overrated, but now she suffers from the same sorts of issues as s/teve does. she has a lot of screentime but not much to do, who she is as a person isn't as prioritized, she's just there being cool and likable and helping i guess? she's someone for s/teve to talk to? whenever shows go downhill they just bloat the cast until the core story is completely watered down and the plot moves people around because it has to. what is this show even about at this point?

[avrzyrouyrz]

a helpful guide to avrey

her pinterest board.

ORIGINS & FAMILY:

full name: avrey rouyre.

reason for name: sua mãe queria um nome diferente e que começasse com A e em uma lista de nomes leu esse e apenas se destacou, não teve muito motivo grande. significa sol.

nickname(s) and how they got them: avy é o mais comum, veio de infancia, dado pelas pessoas a sua volta. alguns conhecidos também a chamam de erie.

date of birth: 24/01/2001

age: 20.

gender: femino.

place of birth: londres, inglaterra.

places lived since: morou 6 meses na espanha, aonde fez intercambio durante o ensino medio, depois morou mais alguns meses em amsterdã porque pensou em fazer faculdade ali mas voltou pra londres a não se adaptar.

social class: rica né, quem faz intercambio no ensino medio??

parents’ names, backgrounds, occupations: seu pai se chama Harley e como avy, é herdeiro. quem é realmente o rico da familia foi seu bisavó, que inventou um mecanismo usado em carros até o tempo atual. desde então, a familia tem outros mil investimentos. Os seus pais hoje em dia são separados, sua mãe, Paige era uma corretora de imovel quando o casal se conheceu, a mulher parou de trabalhar depois que eles estavam sério e hoje em dia além de viver com os investimentos que fez com sua parte do dinheiro do divorcio, também é dona de uma galeria de arte.

siblings: tem um irmão mais velho, Atley, de 25 anos, e outros dois meio irmãos por parte de pai: Kinsley, uma menina de 12 anos e Maddox que tem apenas 9 meses (os dois são de mãe diferente)

relationship with family (close? estranged?): é complicada. Seus pais se separaram quando ela ainda era criança, aos seus dez anos de idade e ela passou a viver com sua mãe. ela e sua mãe são bem proximas até hoje, se veem quase toda semana. Já ela e seu pai se afastaram muito depois que a menina chegou a adolescencia, chegarm a passar mais de um ano sem se ver mas desde que ele está com Josephine, sua mulher atual, as coisas mudaram um pouco, a mulher meio que pôs ele "na linha" e Avy também não quer perder ver seu irmãozinho crescer então eles tem se visto e se aproximado mais, mas ela ainda não diria que eles são proximos.

children of his/her own?: não.

PHYSICAL

height: 1,65m.

build: é magra, mas não tipo super-modelo magra, só normal.

race: branca

distinguishing facial features: provavelmente seus olhos ou sua boca.

hair color: preto agora, mas até pouco tempo atrás tinha ele castanho com luzes mais claras.

eye color: verde.

complexion (freckles, acne, skin tone, birth marks, scars): ela tem algumas sardinhas no seu rosto, durante todas as estações mas principalmente no verão. também tem uma marca de nascençam na sua bochecha, qual odiava por anos e quase removeu cirurgiamente mas hoje em dia ama.

disabilities (physical or mental, including mental illnesses): tem TDAH, foi diagnosticada a pouco tempo!

health (usually sick? or very resilient? allergies?): tem sinusite e fica doente facilemente no inverno.

what do they consider their best feature?: seus olhos.

worst they’ve ever been injured (what, how did it happen)?: foi só a alguns meses atrás, quando estava namorando um garoto a uns 4/5 meses e ela foi numa festa sozinha e quando voltou pro seu apartamento ele estava lá, bebado e bateu nela. só não foi pior porque um vizinho ouviu e invadiu o apartamento e separou ele. o garoto está preso hoje em dia.

ticklish: não muito, só em alguns pontos tipo atrás do joelho.

APPEARANCE

style of dress/typical outfit(s): ela não tem um estilo muito fixo, sempre veste o que ela gosta, é meio uma coisa street e y2k misturada com roupa confortavel se é que isso faz sentindo.

glasses? contacts?: nenhum dos dois.

personal hygiene: ela ama água, e desde sempre toma banho todos os dias, de manhã normalmente.

grooming (makeup? shower daily? wear only clean clothes? pluck eyebrows?): ela usa maquiagem quase todos os dias, mas costuma usar algo mais natural e simples. suas roupas estão sempre limpas e etc. se cuida bastante.

what does your OC choose to do about the, er, hair down there?: ela odeia se depilar então está fazendo laser para ter que parar de lidar com isso.

jewelry? tattoos? piercings?: tem dois furos na orelha e tá sempre com brinco nesses, morre de vontade de fazer tatuagem mas tem medo de se enjoar. sobre colares, pulseira e coisa assim, ela até usa quando vai sair a noite ou em festas, mas não no seu dia a dia.

style of speech (loud, mumbler, articulate, etc.): fala muito rápido quando está animada, nervosa ou irritada o que quer dizer, fala muito rápido quase o tempo todo.

accent?: não.

unique mannerisms/physical habits (bites nails, talks with hands, taps feet when restless): ela brinca muito com seu cabelo, bate seus pés sempre que está sentada e também tem mania de bater suas unhas na mesa e etc.

left handed or right?: canhota.

what does their writing look like?: tem a letra bem bonitinha, sabe letra de garota popular?? essa mesmo.

do they work out/exercise?: antigamente a reposta seria não faz, mas desde que as coisas aconteceram com seu ex, está fazendo box! também tem indo pra academia umas duas vezes por semana.

BELIEFS & INTELLECT

level of self esteem: sempre teve uma boa autoestima, mas desde que o que aconteceu com seu ex não tem muito, mas não demostra.

known languages: inglês (lingua materna), espanhol (fluente), holandes (intermediario)

zodiac (sign and if they lend any credence to it): aquario e um pouco, já acreditou muito (com uns 14/15 anos) mas hoje em dia não liga muito.

gifts/talents: tem um ouvido muito bom pra musica, mas nunca se tocou realmente que é boa nisso.

most sensitive about/vulnerable to: acho que sua familia e relacionamentos/seu ex.

happiest memory: quando adotou seu cachorro.

religious stance: ateu.

political stance: esquerda, não é muito envolvida mas as vezes queria ser só é meio preguiçosa pra isso.

pet peeves: pessoas que não olham pra você quando falam, deixa ela maluca.

vices: infelizmente ela fuma cigarro e vape.

bad habits: se culpar quando as coisas dão errado, beber demais em festas, pessimo horario de sono (e fumar, mas já coloquei em vicios)

superstitious: não.

sense of humor: ela tem um humor bem besterento e meio acído.

how do they deal with stress? bem mal, ela fica ansiosa e acaba se atrapalhando e se estressando mais, até sua renite ataca quando está muito estressada.

what do they do to get pumped up? escuta música e dança.

what do they do when upset? chora mesmo.

what about angry? fuma, depois chora e depois acaba comendo besteira.

how do they react to frustrations (get worked up, calm down and think through it logically, give up, etc)?: ela é mimada, está acostumada as coisas indo do seu jeito então quando não vai desiste facil e fica chateada.

how do they accept failure (both from themselves and others)?: lida bem mal, não costuma aceitar mas nunca tenta de novo, só meio que finge esquecer.

level of comfort with technology: muito confortável.

believe in happy endings: não.

good with their hands (if so, practical/crafting or fine arts)?: não muito, ela não é boa em ficar parada ou tem a calma que a arte costuma precisar, mas tem um bom olho pra isso; cresceu na galeria com sua mãe.

how fast do they learn new things? better with book knowledge or hands on approach?: não muito rápido, se distrai fácil então precisa de mais tempo que o normal pra aprender as coisas porque acaba perdendo detalhes.

how do they feel about asking for help? é aquariana, então é meio teimosa, gosta de fazer as coisas sozinha mas está trabalhando em pedir ajuda quando precisa.

optimist or pessimist: pessimista.

extrovert or introvert: extrovertida.

makes decisions based mostly on emotions, or on logic?: emoção, nem sabe o que logica é mais.

cautious or daring: um pouco dos dois.

spontaneous or planner: espontânea.

thinker or doer? pensa.

organized or messy: bagunçada, bastante inclusive.

worrier or carefree: preocupada, mas finge que não liga.

artistic?: não, mas aprecia muito arte é algo que gosta de verdade.

mathematical?: nenhum pouco.

SEX & INTIMACY

current marital/relationship/sexual status: solteira.

sexual orientation (is it something they question or a secret): bixessual.

Past relationships and sexual partners (if applicable): namorou 3 vezes, todos foram curtos. a primeira vez aos quatorze anos até os quinze, foi aquele classico primeiro namoro aonde acha que é o amor da sua vida até não ser mais. o segundo namoro foi aos dezesete, no seu intercambio a espanhã, com uma menina e a serpação foi bem dolorosa já que foi porque o intercambio iria acabar e avy não conseguiria fazer algo a distancia. o mais recente foi agora, com 19 anos, durou seis meses e você já sabe como acabou.

what is their “type” in regards to looks in a partner? gosta de pessoas mais velhas, normalmente alguém com uma vibe eu não durmo a 4 dias, sabe? também prefere cabelos escuros e pessoas mais alta para si, tanto pra homem quanto pra mulher.

primary reason for being broken up with: nunca terminaram com ela, foi sempre ela que terminou...

primary reasons for breaking up with people: acho que disse já os motivos ali encima, não tem tipo uma razão principal, foi tudo cirscustancial.

views on sex (one night stands, promiscuity, etc): ela não se importa, cada um faz o que quer, e apesar de ser alguém bem sensual, nunca teve um one night stand, só transou com uma pessoa além dos seus ex namorados e foi um quase relacionamento seu que acabou antes de virar algo real.

age and story of first kiss (if any—if not, how does he/she want it to happen?): tinha treze anos, foi numa festinha de aniversario com uma outra gorota porque elas "queriam ver como era"

age and story of loss of virginity (if any—if not, how does he/she want it to happen, if at all?): perdeu com seu primeiro namorado, foi na sua casa, ele entrou escondido depois da aula, foi super rápido e ela não chegou a gozar.

level of sexual experience: acha que é media para baixa.

do they have any unfulfilled sexual fantasies?: quem não tem?

wildest/strangest sexual experience? would they do it again? provavelmente quando transou na balada e sim.

do they have any fetishes or kinks? acho que public sex ou tipo semi publico mas só isso mesmo (que ela descobriu por enquanto ao menos)

have they lied about their previous sexual partners to current/potential partners? sim, menti um tanto sobre o nivel de experencia que tem.

love or lust: amor.

ever been in love?: sim.

do they fall in love easily?: não muito, ela não confia nas pessoas fácil então demora um tanto.

do they take relationships seriously?: sim.

worst thing they’ve done to someone they loved? acha que quando voo pra inglaterra de novo sem dar tchau pra menina que namorou porque achava que não iria conseguir.

do they desire marriage and/or children in their future? sim! não acha va que queria filhos mas seu irmão mais novo lhe fez mudar de de opinião.

believe in true love or soul mates? não mas gostaria de ser provada errada.

thoughts on public displays of affection?: gosta bastante.

how do they flirt: ela não sabe direito, mas fica brincando e tentando fazer a pessoa rir e é mais fisica também.

how do they show affection/love to their partner?: toque era a principal lingua de amor dela, mas desde o ex tem sido algo mais complicado. hoje em dia diria que é ato de serviço ou tempo de qualidade.

thoughts on cheating/cheaters? have they ever cheated? odeia, seu primeiro namorado (aquele adolescente) a traiu e ela só descobriu depois tem raiva. nunca traiu ninguém.

Idea of perfect date: um café ou um passeio no museu, algo simples.

RELATIONSHIPS

social habits (popular, loner, some close friends, makes friends and then quickly drops them): já foi muito popular, mas hoje em dia tem bem poucos amigos.

how do they treat others (politely, rudely, keep at distance, etc)?: é educada, e super simpatica com as pessoas mas é reservada, não da muito detalhes facilmente. é do tipo de pessoa que você conta tudo da sua vida e depois fica pensando como não sabe nem o sobrenome, sabe??

do they trust people easily or tend to be wary?: não confia fácil.

how often do they see friends and family? vê sua mãe toda sema, seu pai e seus irmãos costuma ver uma vez por mês ou a cada dois meses e seus amigos, vê sempre que consegue.

are they good at keeping in touch? sim e não, ela tem fases que é super boa em responder mensagens e etc e outras aonde é quase incomunicavel e isso é algo que os amigos dela meio que se acostumaram.

what is relationship with parents/family?: acho que já disse meio que sobre como é com os pais, já seus irmãos ela é bem distante. não gosta muito do seu irmão mais velho, ele tem uma vibe meio fuckboy rico que é youtuber, sabe?? e seu irmão de 12 mais novo só é superprotegido e mantindo longe dela pela mãe, e maddox ainda é um bebê, então né não tem muita relação mas tenta ver ele pelo menos uma vez no mês.

any roommates or close neighbors: não tem roomates mas tem uma vizinha idosa que é amiga sua, vive indo jantar na casa dela.

most comfortable around (person): provavelmente sues amigos.

oldest friend: sabrina, uma vizinha sua de quando tinha uns 9 anos, as duas não são super proximas mas se veem pelo menos uma vez por ano e conversam de vez em quando em redes sociais.

closest friend: agora provavelmente é a cali.

who do they most respect and why?: sua mãe.

who would they turn to if they needed help and why?: sua psicologa ou a cali.

how does she think others perceive her?: acha que é vista como a que é sempre agitada, algre e meio ansiosa.

How do others actually perceive her?: é meio que isso, mas também acham que ela é bem indecisa e mimada (o que ela acha que não é)

argue or avoid conflict?: briga.

thoughts on large groups of people?: gosta a maior parte das vezes e nas outras é indiferente.

main quality they look for in people: ela gosta de gente misteriorsa mas não devia.

have they ever lost anyone close to them? How did they handle it? não, nunca.

how do they show affection?: agradece muito com palavras, e faz pequenos atos tipo comprar presentes e tals.

do they act differently around strangers than friends? If so, how differently?: sim, um tanto. ela relaxa mais com seus amigos, então não fala tão rápido e não fica tão ansiosa, consegue brincar e relaxar de verdade.

would they ever consider adopting a child? why or why not?: nunca pensou sobre isso, mas talvez se não conseguir engravidar.

VOCATION

level of education: ensino médio completo, já começou 2 faculdades (direito e comunicação) e largou ambas.

profession: ganhadora de mesada.

If no job, where do finances come from? seu pai principalmente.

past occupations: nenhuma.

dream occupation: não sabe, mas ela queria muito ser alguma coisa, odeia ser como seu pai é, odeia não ter nada que ela goste de fazer ou coisas para fazer.

passions: gosta de animais e de arte, principalmente musica.

attitude towards current coworkers, bosses, employees: a única funcionaria que tem é sua empregada, as duas se dão super bem.

spender or saver? why?: gasta, o dinheiro que sua familia tem é quase infinito.

SECRETS

phobias: aranhas, morre de medo real.

life goals: descobrir algo que ela goste de fazer (de preferencia profissionalmente) e fazer isso.

greatest fears: se envolver em mais um relacionamento toxico.

something they’ve never told anyone: exatamente o que aconteu com ela e seu ex, ninguém sabe.

biggest regret: não ter terminado o relacionamento antes, porque ela sabia que as coisas não estavam indo pro caminho certo e mesmo assim deixou. 

police/criminal/legal record (crimes committed? If so, were they caught? charged?): ainda tem seu réu primario amém

what he/she most wants to change about his/her current life?: queria estar fazendo alguma faculdade.

what she most wants to change about her physical appearance?: gostaria de ter mais peito.

LIKES & DISLIKES

Indoors or Outdoors?: outdoors.

favorite color: verde claro.

favorite smell: cheiro do mar.

favorite and least favorite food: sua favorita é sushi, a que ela menos gosta é aveia

favorite and least favorite book: ela não lê muita coisa... desculpa ela não é culta

favorite and least favorite movie: favorito é wall-e ou clueless. o que ela menos gostas é qualquer filme do velosos e furiosos.

favorite and least favorite holiday (and why): favorito provavelmente ano novo, o que ela menos gosta é natal.

coffee or tea?: café.

crunchy or smooth peanut butter?: smooth.

do they watch TV? If so, what?: gosta bastante!! vê muita coisa na real, principalmente séries. gosta de ter barulho de fundo mesmo quando está fazendo outras coisas então tem até tv assinada em casa mesmo sendo coisa de velho.

favorite place to hang out: seu apartameto.

do they like music? What kind?: sim, ouve de tudo mas não é muito fã de country.

favorite type of weather: gosta de dias frios, mas quando o ceu não está cinza.

favorite form of entertainment: musicas.

how do they feel about traveling?: ama, faz isso bastante.

MORALITY

ever been in a physical altercation (with who, about what, what happened): aos 16 anos na escola, com uma menina que ficou falando mal dela super infantil. ambas foram suspensa, ela levou uma bronca enorme.

what trait do they find most admirable and why?: pessoas que são decididas.

thoughts on violence: antes não se importava, hoje em dia odeia.

one act most ashamed of: meio que no geral seu antigo relacionamento, ela sempre viu os sinais abusivos.

does the end justify the means?: não.

good of the one or the many?: the many.

can they be manipulative?: sim, mas prefere não precisar ser.

do they think it’s okay to cry (if not, why)?: acha que é ok e necessesario, mas costuma fazer isso escondida.

what is their reputation? rica mimada.

cusser?: Sim.

how do they react to unwanted sexual advances?: ela é boa em dar foras, as vezes é grossa mas tenta não ser. depende da situação.

how would they react to stranger being bullied/abused? What about an animal?: interviria concerteza, tanto para pessoas quanto animal.

how susceptible are they to peer pressure?: um tanto, mas se ela tiver decidida em algo contrario apenas pressão não funcionaria pra lhe fazer mudar.

easily forgive or hold grudges?: não é do tipo que perdoa não...

forgive self or live with regret/guilt?: não se perdoa.

stand up for own beliefs or hide/avoid discussing them with people who have opposing views?: defende quase sempre, mas quando sabe que é inutil vai pra ironia e grosseria.

DRUGS & ALCOHOL

thoughts on drugs and alcohol: fuma maconha quase todos os dias e bebe em festas, já usou algumas drogas de balada tbm.

do they smoke? If so, do they want to quit?: sim e sim.

age when they first got drunk (what happened, consequences): quando tinha 16 anos, numa festa de aniversario. passou mal, vomitou, algumas amigas tiveram que ajudar ela a tomar banho mas seus pais nunca descobriram.

do they drink on regular basis: apenas em festas.

have they ever tried other drugs (which, what happened, consequences): maconha, quando seus pais descobriram (ela tinha recem feito dezoito anos) ficou de castigo, usa quase todos os dias. já usou bala em balada e nunca aconteceu nada de errado.

DETAILS

most important/defining event in life to date: acha que são dois, quando se mudou pra morar sozinha assim que fez dezoito anos e mais recentemente, quando seu ex lhe bateu.

daily routine: não tem uma rotina muito fixa, costuma acordar mais tarde, lá pelas onze horas, toma banho, se arruma, almoça em algum restaurante, volta pra casa, descansa um pouco, sai passear com seu cachorro, vai para as aulas de boxer ou pra academia. sai com alguns amigos, ou fica só em casa vendo tv mesmo.

sleeping habits (Night owl or early bird? Light or heavy sleeper? Fall asleep anywhere or need specific conditions?): é super nortuna, costuma dormir bem tarde e acordar tarde. costuma dormir com a tv ligada como barulho de fundo, mas esconde seu rosto no coberto porque gosta do escuro..

type of car he/she drives (or wishes he/she drove): dirige uma moto na verdade!! motomami sim.

pets?: If not, do they want any?: tem um mini husky que se chama aries.

most prized possession: acho que o celular dela?? ela não tem apego emocional as coisas mas no celular tem muitas lembranças e etc.

What are you likely to find in their pockets? Purse/bag/backpack/wallet?: mac*nha.

what makes them laugh?: qualquer coisa ela tem riso solto.

do they know how to swim? mais ou menos, não é uma nadadora nata mas sabe não se afogar.

can they cook (if so, how well and do they enjoy it)?: não muito, ela cozinha o basico mas não gosta e o ifood ta aí.

If they wanted to hide something, where would they hide it?: no cofre da galeria da sua mãe.

do they keep a journal?: sim!! faz isso desde muito nova, tem varios diariozinhos aonde anota coisas, não é muito organizado, ela meio que escreve de tudo lá, desde o que sonhou, até pensamos ou to-do lists.

SITUATIONAL

what would they do if they received large sum of money?: viajaria mais. ela já viaja bastante, mas queria poder fazer isso mais.

what would they wish for if they found a genie?: provavelmente descobrir seus talentos, ou desejaria um.

how do they deal with insects?: depende do inseto, se for aranha sai correndo, qualquer outro ela mata.

If they were outnumbered in a fight, would they stand ground or run away?: fugia.

would they be comfortable sharing a bed with a person they didn’t know well?: não, ela ficaria ansiosa demais pra dormir provavelmente.

CHILDHOOD & ADOLESCENCE

first memory: quando sua avó caiu do cavalo na fazenda deles, lembra ate hoje porque ela tinha uns 4 anos e riu porque não entendeu que podia ser perigoso.

favorite game: tentou gostar de video-game por causa do seu ex e até fingia gostar, mas não tem nenhum mesmo. mas gosta de jogos de tabuleiro, meio que todos eles.

worst childhood memory: as brigas de seus pais antes deles se separarem.

childhood trauma: provavelmente a briga que fez seus pais se separarem, quando sua mãe descobriu que ele traia ela e etc, tirou ela de casa no meio da madrugada aos berros.

how were they disciplined? did that change as they got older?: quando criança, tinha uma educação mais severa, seu pai sempre teve aquilo de que precisava ser respeitado e tals, mas quando eles se separaram e ficou apenas sua mãe, que foi a maior parte da sua vida, ganhou mais liberdade, a mulher confiava nela(não devia, pq ela mente bem). Ficou de castigo poucas vezes, a maior parte por coisas que fez na escola na sua época rebelde.

any non-family adults stick out in their mind? (Who were they, how did he/she know them? Why do they stick out)?: sua familia no intercambio.

age of first date: aos 14.

view of authority? what affected that view? não liga muito- mas não respeita nada. cresceu mentindo e fugindo da sua mãe, e hoje em dia não vê figura nenhuma de autoridade capaz de a parar das coisas.

what clique in high school were they associated with? os populares mesmo...

high school goals: sair de lá conta?

did they enjoy high school: sim e não? ela gostou pelos primeiros 2 anos, o terceiro ano foi medio e o quarto ano ela odiava e só queria se formar logo.

any extracurricular activities: fez espanhol, mas só. nunca ligou-se muito nisso.

how well did they do in school?: mediano, era mal em algumas coisas mas nunca foi boa em nada.

[skullrock]

novacain stain

pairing: steve x gn reader

based on these prompts: "No matter what they made you think, you are worth saving. You are worth loving." with reader telling that to Steve <3 / Bandaging the other and then kissing the injury gently + “can I kiss you?” For Steve x reader? 💖💖💖 (tried to base this around assumed s4 events)

word count: 800

warnings: injuries but dat it <3

a/n: eyem back....

===

Steve doesn’t like the silence. The only sound ripping through the air is bandage wrappers and soft clicks from you sitting things down on the bathroom floor. A few drops of blood stain the white tile, and Steve winces, knowing it’ll stick.

“I….” He tries, but he doesn’t know what to say. He could say he’s sorry he runs into danger like it’s hosting an ice cream truck, but he’s truthfully not sorry. Not even a bit. Steve doesn’t want to sound egotistical, but he did save lives, and that made the wounds worth it.

“I just don’t understand,” you say, sounding weak. Steve gasps as you gently pat alcohol onto a deep gnash on his knee. There’s a long silence as you stare at the wound before you continue. “I don’t get why you keep doing this. You’re going to die.”

Steve kind of shrugs, because that’s not his biggest fear. He’s more afraid of the Demogorgan’s clicking. Steve wants to break the tension, so he tries to joke. “Yeah, well, who’d care anyway?”

Steve’s shift in his humor - from self confidence to self depreciation - has not been lost on you for the last year and a half. Since Nancy Wheeler dumped him, he’s been torn up and broken - like, literally. But Steve joking after he really nearly died sets you off, panic and desperation rising in your chest.

“I don’t understand that, either,” you hiss. “How you could sit here and hate yourself. Like you’re not - like you didn’t just save the whole world, or like you’re not smart, or worthy of love.”

“Hey -“ Steve tries, desperate to explain its a joke.

“No,” you say. “It makes me sick how you feel, Steve. You’re - you’re handsome, and strong, and funny - and - and I don’t understand how you could think no one would care if you died.” You pause to focus on pushing back tears. “I’d care!”

“I know,” Steve says, a little shocked. “I was - it was a joke, Y/N.”

“You shouldn’t joke!” You sniffle. “It’s not funny, Steve. No matter what they made you think, you are worth saving. You are worth loving.”

Steve’s floored. Sure, Robin had given him pep talks. You’d given him pep talks, even. But nothing like this. Nothing this emotional on the other person’s end. Steve doesn’t know what to think or do, except to lean forward and embrace you, pulling your face awkwardly into his chest. You cry, gripping his blood soaked shirt, and Steve frowns heavily. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m sorry.”

“I’m scared half to death every day, wondering what you’re going to get into. If you’re going to make it out.” You sniffle again. “What if I lost you? Don’t joke!”

“I feel the same way,” Steve says. “But I - if people need me, I have to go.”

You pull back and look up at him. “And you can’t even see how much you mean to people?”

“I know,” he says again, not knowing what else to say, and still trying to convince himself.

You sit back again, slowly getting back to work at bandaging him up. You gently place a large bandage over his knee, smoothing it gingerly with your fingers. You lean forward gently and press your lips to it, hardly any pressure transferring. Steve watches and melts, melts, suddenly hit with the overwhelming feeling of safety. It makes him want to sink to the floor and embrace you, stay there for a while and grip the fact that he’s safe and loved. “Can I kiss you?”

Your head nearly snaps up, brows furrowed. “Me?” you whisper.

“No, my reflection,” Steve says, biting his cheek to suppress a smile. He’s blushing a bit and it makes your knees weak.

After a long pause, you whisper, “If you want.”

Steve leans forward, cupping your jaw in one hand. The other moves to the back of your neck slowly, and you shift a bit, unsure of whether or not this is happening. But it is, and Steve’s warm lips on yours solidifies that. They’re a bit dry and cracked, but it’s Steve, and the same overwhelming feeling of safety transfers to you. It’s not a long kiss, just a firm press, but it still leaves the both of you teary eyed. As Steve pulls back, he feels lightheaded, throat aching.

Your eyes rake across his battered form again, and you swallow hard. Focusing on his garroted throat, you whisper, “I love you.”

“I know,” Steve says again, and you glare up at him. “I love you, too.”

“You don’t have to say it.”

“But I did,” he says. “And I meant it.”

You both look at each other for a while, taking the other in, before you tenderly continue patching him up.

[whumpybucky]

I haven't been able to stop thinking about this scenario and I finally found the time to write it out. It's some sort of Silver Fox AU (always inspired by the incredible @softersteve obviously) and poor Steve just needs all the cuddles.

1k of sick silver fox Steve and protective Bucky under the cut.

All sick hurt/comfort, no plot. Enjoy!

A rough groan left Steve’s lips as he closed the snooze on his alarm for the upteenth time. The afternoon nap had done nothing to evict the ache that had taken up residence in his sinuses since last night. That familiar pain along his cheek bones spreading to behind his eyes. The one that meant he was on his way to a sinus infection. Maybe even an ear infection if the full underwater feeling was any indication. 

The serum had started to slow on his recovery time a few years back. Bucky’s too. After running them both through the gamut of tests, the head doctor of SHIELD’s medical team had joked that they were getting old. Bucky hadn’t found it funny.

Steve smiled at that memory, then blinked his eyes a few times trying clear away the puffy stiff feeling. In one, albeit slow, movement he shifted his legs off of the couch to sit up. The change in position moved the congestion in his head and a string of three rapid but strong sneezes overtook him before he had time to prepare. 

“Huh'ESHooo! HhTSCH! ETCHieeew! Ughhhh… snnfff!” 

Steve grabbed a handful of tissues from the coffee table and attempted to blow his nose as gently as possible, but it was no use. The congestion was stuck in his head like wet cotton and he was left dizzy, ears buzzing.

There would be no hiding this from Bucky, that’s for sure. 

When his husband had left earlier that week for recruit training, the beginnings of the cold had just settled in. Bucky had been so distraught about leaving him, despite Steve’s assurance that he would be fine.

“I just hate leaving you right as you’re getting sick,” Bucky had said sweetly as he hugged Steve goodbye. 

“Buck, I’ll be okay. You’re only gone four days—”

“Four and a half,” he had corrected with a worried tone.

“Four and half,” Steve repeated with a smile. “It’s just a cold—”

“A bad one that knocked me on my ass for three days. That’s with the serum.”

Steve saw the concern painted across his husband’s face, brows furrowed and jaw clenched. The same look from all those decades ago. It still made Steve melt.

“Buck, sweetheart… snfff! I promise I’ll go to med if there’s even a hint of a fever.”

“You better,” he had asserted, along with his best ‘I'm not kidding’ look before pressing a soft kiss into his forehead. His lips lingered ever so slightly, which had made Steve chuckle.

“I don’t have a fever.”

Bucky had sighed at being caught in the act. 

“I just worry about you,” he had admitted, barely above a whisper as he lowered his chin to rest their foreheads together, running his calloused hand through Steve’s sandy silver waves.

“I know you do, sweetheart. And I love you for it. You know I’ll send you status updates. Now go, or you'll miss your flight.”

Four and a half days came and went. Bucky would be home in an hour and Steve was… well, he was pretty sure he was running a fever now. He felt like he constantly had to clear his throat and it ached whenever he swallowed. His head felt like it was full of concrete. And the pressure, the pressure made him want to sink back into the couch and keep his eyes closed for the foreseeable future. 

Clearly Steve had cursed himself when he had assured Bucky he was feeling better the night before. He really thought he was. He had even promised him there would be vegetable barley stew for his return. He knew Bucky loved something comforting after a stint away.

Sighing at the combined thought of having to muster the energy to prepare dinner and disappointing his husband at his not improved state, the retired captain forced himself up off the couch and into their bathroom to take a hot shower. Maybe the steam would help loosen things up a bit. 

Thirty minutes later Steve barely made it back to the couch. The steam had made little difference. Only enough to send his sinuses buzzing, sparking another string of painful sneezes. The congestion was definitely in his ears and it made him feel like he was on a boat, so much so that he had to hold onto walls and furniture as he walked back into the living room. Plus the loss of heat from the shower had him shivering since he got out, unable to regain the same warmth. 

Steve decided he would sit for five minutes. Just to get warm again. 

As he finished pulling the fuzzy blanket Bucky had bought him for his last birthday across his lap, Steve heard the deadbolt turn. The stew would have to wait.

*****

“Stevie? I’m back, baby,” Bucky called out to his husband as he toed off his shoes and hung his jacket on one of the hooks in the hall. 

“In here, Buck.” The rough weakness of Steve’s voice, followed by a dry cough, made Bucky cringe.

“Steven,” Bucky chastised as soon as he had lowered himself onto the couch. Steve’s eyes fluttered open, offering a glassy blue look of apology—which Bucky accepted, noting the fevered flush across his cheeks and the puffiness around his forehead and cheekbones. 

“I’m sorry, Buck, but dinner isn’t made, SNFF!—” he paused to cough, then cleared his throat, “I was getting better, I swear… SNfff!”

Bucky huffed, but not out of anger, “fuck, you know I don’t care about dinner, I just care about how you’re feeling now.”

Bucky cupped Steve’s cheek, his lips pouting slightly at the heat radiating from his husband’s skin. Steve sighed into his palm, likely reveling in the cooling contrast of the touch. 

“I th–snnfff–I think I need to go to med,” Steve admitted, then suddenly turned away from Bucky’s hand and into his elbow, clearly about to sneeze. He hitched softly, coaxing out the strong soft triple.

“Huh… huh… hurrESHHUUU! het’STCH…huh’HSSHhhu!” 

“I think so too. Bless you, three times,” Bucky offered along with several tissues.

Steve accepted them with a grateful nod, snuffling into the bunch before all but collapsing into Bucky’s chest.

“Poor Stevie,” Bucky whispered more to himself.

Then he wrapped his arms around his husband, leaning them both back into the couch. Then one hand rubbed soft circles on Steve’s back while the other carded fingers through his fever damp hair. 

“Maybe in a little bit though?” Steve mumbled the delayed response into Bucky’s chest, followed by a weak cough. “Just got you back. Missed you.”

“Of course. Missed you too. So much.” 

Bucky’s chest ached for Steve. For not being there when he needed. But as much as Bucky wanted to run his husband down to med right away, he couldn’t say no to holding him a bit longer. He was home. He could take care of him now. 

[softsnzstuff]

Sick fix prompt 85. “Please don’t sneeze on me.” W st/eddie and e/ddie as the snzer 👀👀👀🙏🏼

Omg yes yes.

I’m gonna do Streamer AU for this one, hope that’s ok with you, Anon. Also for the sake of this prompt, kink!Steve and Sick!Eddie.

Thanks for sending! 🤍 KB

***

Steve was in his gaming room on the computer. He was live-streaming as he packed for a convention he was going to in two days.

This was one of his more casual streams. He was going about his daily life, music playing in the background. Occasionally he’d check the chat and answer questions or comments viewers sent in.

He rummaged through a closet and held up two jackets to the camera.

“What do you think guys, Jean jacket or crewneck?”

The Jean jacket is so hot

Crewneck!!

Crewneck seems to college to me?

As he waited for the votes to come in, he folded a few tee shirts that he was taking. All of a sudden the door flew open and Eddie walked into the room, hugging Steve from behind.

Aww hi Eddie!

Stop that’s so sweet

He looks so soft!

The older man was wearing pajama pants and a sweatshirt. Steve noticed his nostrils were flaring when he walked in.

Eddie had been losing the fight against a sniffly cold the last couple days. He knew the sneezing turned Steve on, so he was making it his personal mission to be around Steve whenever he had to sneeze.

As he hugged Steve from the back, he rubbed his nose on Steve’s shoulder.

“Don’t fe- hehh - feel good…” he whispered, knowing exactly what he was doing, “m’gonna sn-hihhh HEH!”

He pressed his nose firmly into the fabric of Steve’s shirt as the release overtook him.

“eh’KSHhew! NG’tchHUH! snfsnff H’itsch’IEW!”

Steve absolutely froze, body stiff as he felt Eddie shudder with each sickly sneeze. His whole face was hot as he twisted around to assess the damp spot on his shoulder.

“Please don’t sneeze on me.” He tried not to moan.

Eddie looked at him confused, “But I thought-”

Steve shot his eyes subtly towards the computer, where Eddie could see they were live as comments flooded in.

Bless you!

Ew not ON Steve. Turn away Eddie 😩

Aw is he still not feeling well?

Steve walked over to the computer. “Looks like crewneck it is! I gotta go get this guy back to bed. He’s still not feeling great.”

Eddie waved at the camera from the background.

“Thanks for helping me pack! I’ll see some of you guys in a few days! Byeeee!”

Steve very quickly pressed ‘End Live’ before turning around to face Eddie, blushing hard.

“Shit sorry. I almost exposed us…” Eddie sniffled against his wrist. “Sorry I sneezed on you…”

Steve walked over to Eddie and kissed him on the lips. “Don’t apologize, Eds. The live is over now. I want you to do it again.”

Eddie’s reddened nose twitched as a wicked smile spread across his face.

“Good, because this cold is kicking my ass and there’s plenty more sneezes where those came from.”

[[TBC????]]

[nametakensff]

oooh can i request 🥶🤬🤧 for st/eddie?

Ok, so this ended up at 13.7k 💀 it just took over and I kept going - thank you so much for the prompt! 💕

E/ddie and S/teve had been planning to go to a concert together for months. The day of, however, they wake up sick and grouchy. Everything continues to spiral from there

~~~~~~

Content:

M/M, Established Relationship, both S/teve and E/ddie have the fetish, colds, contagion, mess, handjobs, fevers, they're just generally super fucking unwell but fuck about it anyway, fetishy dirty talk

CW:

Lots of fighting and angst, mentions of homophobia, Q slur is used

Some other notes:

- I've written E/ddie as having undiagnosed ADHD - nobody knows it's a thing, including him

- The fic is set in January 1988, so S/teve and E/ddie have been in a relationship for about a year and a half

- I'm a British person who cannot drive and has been to Indiana twice, I'm trying my best to make this scenario believable haha

Fic is v NSFW, so under a readmore! Hope you enjoy 🥰

If Eddie hadn’t been teetering on the edge of breaking point for the last several hours already, the car rolling to a miserable, sputtering stop out in the middle of bumfuck nowhere would have been the final straw. As it was, he didn’t know whether to scream or cry. So he sat there in astonished disbelief as Steve attempted to start the car, over and over. He watched his boyfriend slap the steering wheel in frustration through unblinking eyes.

“Steve. Steve? Are you fucking kidding me right now!? Why the fuck have we stopped??”

He watched the muscles in the younger man’s jaw tighten, refusing to look at him and instead frowning angrily out of the front window. His knuckles were white where they gripped the wheel, and Eddie could swear a vein was starting to bulge on his forehead.

“We better not be out of gas. Steve? Are we – are we actually out of gas??”

Radio silence as he continued to stare at Steve, growing more panicked by the second.

“Ste-“

“YES, okay?? We’re out of fucking gas. God damn it!”

Steve slapped the wheel again, grinding his teeth. Before he could help himself, Eddie burst into high pitched squeals of laughter. He sounded deranged, hysterical, but he supposed he was having a breakdown and there was nothing much he could do to prevent it. At least Steve was finally looking at him – though glaring would be the more appropriate term.

“What the fuck?”

Eddie concurred – what the fuck, indeed. But no matter how much he willed it, the nervous laughter would not stop. Steve had had enough, cursing as he got out of the driver’s seat and slamming the door behind him. It would do no good to check for any petrol – Eddie had told him they were running low, but Steve just hadn’t listened. He checked anyway – the metalhead watched in the rear-view mirror as he popped the trunk and rummaged for a full cannister, coming up empty. At least Eddie’s insane cackles had fizzled down to the occasional reedy giggle. Steve got back in his seat, slamming the door again.

Several minutes of almost silence passed, both men staring blankly into space. An awkwardly loud sniffle from Steve jolted Eddie back to the present. He watched as Steve lifted a broad palm to hover in front of his gaping mouth, nostrils twitching in preparation for the oncoming sneeze. Underneath the exhaustion, the anger and utter defeat, Eddie still found himself admiring his boyfriend’s profile, eyes fixed on his crumpling expression, almost on autopilot.

“Hh-HAH!! HAAAESHHH’uuu!! H’RRIIISSHHH!! TSCHHHH!! Mother fucker –“

Steve fumbled in the glove box for a tissue, a napkin, anything to clean himself up with. The powerful sneeze had not only drenched his palm, several droplets running down his wrist, but his nose had started to run down his lip. Again, his search was futile – they had long used up any tissue or bandana they had to hand. Eddie sat in contemplation for a moment, then sighed heavily before reaching into the back seat for his things. He opened his backpack, glanced sadly at his Black Sabbath ‘Born Again’ Tour t-shirt, before wordlessly thrusting it in Steve’s general direction.

He heard Steve pause, hesitating, before he gently took the shirt from Eddie. The older man thought he heard a small ‘thank you’, but it honestly wouldn’t have surprised him if it had been a ‘fuck you’ either. Eddie grimaced at the sound of Steve emptying his poor, congested sinuses into his prized possession, arousal and frustration warring in his stomach. He turned his head in time to watch Steve wipe his nostrils dry, painfully red from hours of similar abuse.

Those sneezes had been notably louder and even messier than the endless preceding ones, which had already been amping up in intensity over the past couple of hours, making driving an increasingly difficult task. Eddie wondered if the silver lining of being lost in the middle of nowhere was that Steve hadn’t gotten them into any major accidents by sneezing them into an oncoming vehicle. The thought didn’t help him one bit, however. Silver linings, my ass. Silver linings could fuck off and die – much like he wanted to, in this present moment.

He leaned his head back against the seat, eyes closing against anxiety that flowed through his extremities in waves, engulfing him in a paralytic sense of doom. He really needed to keep his cool, but he was failing miserably. He’d just have to ride it out for now, wait until the panic plateaued and subsided.

He considered their current situation – both of them sick, with what he now suspected was the flu, given how quickly it had come on and the way his head was starting to pound. They were lost; they had no gas and their car was stuck on the side of a road with nothing but cornfields surrounding them as far as the eye could see, like some god damn B Horror movie. They had no food, no more Tylenol, no tissues. They had been fighting for hours. They were tired. It was below freezing outside, and he could already feel the lack of heating. It didn’t take a genius intellect to deduce that they were well and truly Fucked with a capital F.

As if some decidedly non-divine higher power had a personal vendetta against him – a suspicion which Eddie had entertained several times throughout his life – his nose was starting to tickle, again. More accurately, his head was abuzz with the desire to sneeze within milliseconds, giving him almost no warning or buildup before he was jerked forward by a fit of intensely itchy sneezes.

“HhdTT’chiew! Hggxt! Hig’xt! Ehg’xxt! GXXT’CHieww!!”

He had stifled the first one by sheer willpower, able to pinch his wildly flaring nostrils shut between a thumb and forefinger for the next few. The last somehow managed to barrel past his wavering grip, slick nostrils slipping free. He shouldn’t be suppressing them like this – not now, not when he was ill and the only thing it would seek to accomplish was a burgeoning sinus infection. His head throbbed anew, and he squeezed his eyes shut against the pain, willing himself not to whimper.

“…You shouldn’t-“

“I know. Please. Just. Leave me alone.”

He knew that was the wrong thing to say, even after having said plenty of wrong things today already. He had heard the genuine concern in Steve’s voice when he spoke, and he could now feel that his previous anger had been rekindled, emanating from the former jock in almost tangible waves of resentment. He had often fucking hated his life before Steve, but this was the first time he’d ever fucking hated it since.

Steve was right, of course. He knew stifling would hurt him, and he normally reserved it for when he was unable to hold back an allergic fit in public. Here it was just him and Steve – his boyfriend, with the same fetish for sneezing as him. He should be sneezing with abandon, as he normally did around him. It pleased Steve, it pleased him, it didn’t hurt – what reason could he possibly have for bullying the sneezes into submission?

If he was being completely honest with himself, it was this: Steve didn’t deserve to hear them right now. It was possibly one of the pettiest things Eddie had ever thought, and he’d been plenty petty in his time. But right now, he wanted Steve to know how fucking pissed he was at him, even though it hurt to feel the same sentiment directed back at him. He had purposely twisted himself towards the passenger window as he sneezed, biting back the sound and hiding his face from Steve in entirety. He never thought he would be in a position where he didn’t want Steve’s roving eyes drinking in the visuals of his desperate pre-sneeze expression, but here he fucking was.

Eddie leaned his forehead against the window, eyes shut and jaw clenched. The cold glass against his skin felt wonderful, but it also made him shiver, confirming that he was indeed feverish. Just perfect. Wasn’t it enough that they would be missing the concert they’d been looking forward to for months, on top of fucking hating each other right now, without both of them being sick as a dog? He felt the threatening prickle of tears he’d been holding back for hours forming at the corner of his eyes, the final cherry on top of this shit sundae that was his day.

~~~~~~

Steve, for what it was worth, was feeling just as miserable as his boyfriend. Hell, he thought he probably felt worse – the guilt of ignoring Eddie’s warning about running low on gas burning like acid in the pit of his stomach. At the time, he probably even knew the older man was right; but he’d been so fucking angry with him already for fucking up their money that he’d barely listened to him. Admittedly, he’d been a grade A asshole ever since he woke up that morning, lurching forward with a throat-scraping sneeze, a nasty head cold already well settled in his sinuses. His prickly mood had practically invited friction with his sensitive boyfriend, who was also coming down with something himself.

He clenched the steering wheel with both hands and urged himself to calm down. The anger and frustration he’d been feeling almost nonstop for hours had left him shaking. Despite it all, despite how this was the angriest he had ever been with his boyfriend, he couldn’t help his almost pavlovian response to the older man’s irritated little sneezes. His traitorous dick throbbed against the tight confines of his levi’s. The fact that he couldn’t control his physical response just made him even angrier – it was a never-ending cycle of frustration that seemed to travel through him in an uncomfortable thrum. He hated feeling this way.

His sinuses buzzed and he reached up with a fist to rub at his nose, mashing it around so harshly he could hear the resounding wet squelching noises with each motion. He glanced at Eddie, finding him still slumped and motionless up against the passenger door, staunchly ignoring him. His turned back felt like a door closing in his face, the metalhead about as distant from Steve as he could possibly be whilst still sitting less than a few feet away from him. Eddie could be moody at times, but today was a whole new level of dramatics that Steve knew he had been the cause of. The sight of his boyfriend inching himself as far away from him as he physically could was incredibly painful, so Steve turned his gaze back to the steering wheel and tried to think.

They didn’t really have much of a choice either way – they would simply have to wait for someone to come by. He should’ve brought one of the walkie-talkies that had saved him countless times in his misadventures against Vecna, The Mindflayer, the Demodogs – but hindsight was 20/20 and perhaps given all the insane supernatural danger he’d been through, he’d neglected the very real possibility that the mundane could be dangerous too.

His head gave a sudden and sharp throb, wrenching him out of his thoughts as he cursed softly under his breath. He made a mental note to track down and kill the Family Video customer that had gifted him with this real sucker punch of a bug. The second the guy had walked in, eyes streaming and nose bright red, Steve should’ve hightailed it to the back of the store. But Robin was already off with another customer, and the guy beelined to the counter where Steve had been standing. He tried his best to smile welcomingly at him, pointedly looking anywhere other than his twitching pink nostrils.

The guy had asked Steve for recommendations on a date night movie, even as he took a damp wad of tissues from his pocket and pawed with it at his nose. Good luck with that date, buddy, Steve had thought whilst rattling off a list of romantic comedies that would fit the bill. He remembered that ‘Dirty Dancing’ had just come out on VHS, and the guy seemed to brighten at that idea, so Steve went to grab a copy for him. He handed it to the guy and hurriedly typed away at the computer, eager to get this dude and his germs out of the store.

He’d been so close, too, but as he turned to tell the poor guy to enjoy his movie, he’d been met with the sight of him sneezing, uncovered, down at his counter. To his credit, he seemed completely mortified, attempting to wipe the surface clean with an even dirtier tissue, but Steve had assured him through only slightly clenched teeth that it was okay, and to feel better. The man had all but sprinted through the door, and Steve set to sterilising the counter, disgust and arousal battling inside him at the realisation that the colossal sneeze had actually left visible droplets in its wake.

He should’ve known it would be his turn to get sick. It was January, and he’d made it all the way through December without so much as a sniffle, avoiding catching Robin’s cold earlier that month even after they’d cuddled their way through a movie marathon in her living room. It was practically unheard of that he would get through Winter without catching a cold. It was unheard of that he would only catch one. He had only hoped he could count on that good luck a little while longer, just long enough that he could enjoy the concert Eddie had been planning for months.

~~~~~~

Iron Maiden was not a band that Steve had cared to listen to, nor were horror movies something he cared to watch. Dating Eddie Munson meant that he didn’t really have all that much of a choice in the matter. Several months earlier, Eddie had convinced Steve to check out ‘Phenomena’ with him. The last film they’d watched together was ‘Ferris Bueller’s Day Off’, which had quickly become one of Steve’s favourites – and despite his griping, he knew Eddie liked it, too – but he was well overdue a horror movie watch with his distinctly macabre boyfriend. It was totally worth it watching Eddie’s entire face light up, big brown eyes practically glittering with excitement, when Steve acquiesced.

“This one’s from Italy,” Eddie had told him enthusiastically as he pushed the VHS into the player, “But it’s supposed to have a totally metal soundtrack, and the director – you remember ‘Suspiria’, that movie with the ballerinas and witches?”

Steve had remembered, but it was less the witches that had terrified him than the dog suddenly ripping a guy’s entire throat out unprompted. He’d made Eddie escort him to and from the bathroom that night. He nodded.

“Well, that guy, Argento, he made this one, too!”

“Oh, goodie.”

Steve raised an arm against the offending cushion that Eddie flung down at him, the two wrestling briefly before settling in and focusing on the movie. Steve honestly found it horribly boring – it had that one girl from ‘Labyrinth’ in it, a movie Eddie and Robin gushed about regularly, but not much else was going on to keep him interested. In general, watching his boyfriend’s animated profile was much more entertaining.

It had been in a sudden chase scene, a young girl running from some unseen pursuer and towards a gruesome fate that ‘Flash of the Blade’ by Iron Maiden had started to play and Eddie had been head-banging rhythmically within seconds. He turned to Steve, completely and utterly ecstatic, child-like grin splitting his face, and Steve’s heart had been so full he’d been unable to do much more than smile dreamily at his boyfriend. When Eddie had eased up on the frantic fidgeting and belting out the lyrics alongside the movie, he’d snuggled up to him and breathed in the scent of his warm curls until he’d dozed off.

He’d woken up just before the movie had ended. A lake was burning or something like that. When Eddie had turned to him with a huge grin and asked him what his favourite part of the movie had been, Steve honestly answered “The part with the Iron Maiden song." Eddie beamed.

“You liked that song, Stevie?”

“Yeah, it was cool.” Steve answered, not entirely untruthfully. It was less the song itself – more that it animated Eddie in a way Steve would like to see every single day for the rest of his life.

“The lyrics are fuckin’ awesome, too – kind of like a D&D, intrepid knight kind of theme!”

“Totally.” Steve smiled at him.

“You know…The Maiden are coming to Indianapolis in January – I was gonna go with Corroded Coffin but they’re all busy that weekend, so – so what if we went, together? I know it’s not your thing, I totally get if you don’t wanna go, but-“

“I’ll go with you.”

Eddie looked so excited that Steve’s heart skipped a beat. Yes. More of that. Keep looking at me like that.

“Oh, fuck, are you serious, Stevie? Fuckin’ A, man! I need to get organised!”

~~~~~~~

And so, Steve had committed to the gig, nearly as excited as Eddie for their little trip up to Indy. It wasn’t often that they managed to get the time to spend more than their evenings together, even now that they finally had their own apartment. It had taken a great deal of planning, and it should have been perfect. But it had all gone to shit.

The first thing that went wrong, as noted before, was both of them waking up sick. They’d been grouchy, neither of them looking forward to the long drive ahead. Steve was resentful of the fact that he would be crammed in an arena jampacked with sweaty, drunken metal dudes, and Eddie was resentful of the fact that Steve was resentful. Steve hadn’t mean to put a damper on their mood, but he truly felt awful and couldn’t imagine a worse way to spend his evening. He would much rather stay bundled up in bed with his sick boyfriend, where they could look after each other and enjoy each other’s company in peace. Maybe when they felt a little better, they could really enjoy their mutual cold in a more…intimate fashion. But no. They’d committed with both time and money. Car journey and concert it was.

The second thing that had gone wrong, after a bumpy but still salvageable morning, was Eddie losing their food, medicine and other supplies that he had just bought at the first gas station they stopped at. They were good for water, a six pack of one litre bottles in the trunk, and they figured since they’d be grabbing dinner later that evening, a couple of sandwiches and snacks for the road would suit them fine. Steve had volunteered to head into the store, knowing how distracted his boyfriend could get, but Eddie had waved him off and insisted it’d be fine. When Eddie had strolled back to the car 20 minutes later, backpack slung lazily over one shoulder, Steve had asked him if everything was okay.

“More than okay, dude.” Eddie had grinned at him, then opened his backpack to reveal a freshly purchased bag of weed.

“Where did you-?”

“Ran into a previous client in the store – he deals now, and he gave me an old chum’s discount.”

Steve pulled out of the parking lot, thinking to himself that smoking up later on might make the miserable experience of being sick at a concert more bearable than if he’d been sober. It was about 10 minutes later that through the brain fog he realised he hadn’t seen Eddie carrying any kind of purchase from the store, and hadn’t seen anything but weed in his backpack.

“Munson, you did – get us food and stuff, right?”

Eddie, who had been lazily leaning back in his seat and rubbing at his nose with the palm of his hand, suddenly shot upright.

“Shit. SHIT.”

Steve jumped a little.

“What, dude?! Are you okay?”

Eddie groaned and buried his face in his hands.

“I left the stuff behind the gas station – I put the bag down when I was getting the weed.”

Steve gaped at him before cursing under his breath. He looked for the nearest opportunity to turn round and swung the car back in the opposite direction.

“What are you doing, man?”

“We might still be able to find it. I mean, what the fuck, Eddie? Drug deals?? Right now?”

Steve could feel the anger bubbling up steadily, his regular patience almost non-existent. Eddie was more than willing to rise to the occasion.

“It’s not like I meant to lose our shit, okay? I just – you know, I forget things.”

“That’s why I offered to go in myself!”

“I’m not an infant, Harrington, I can function well enough to buy crap at a store.”

“Clearly fucking not?! You left our stuff and spent our money on pot – thanks for fucking asking, by the way - when we could have easily found something closer to the gig. Like seriously, man, not cool.”

“UGH, I didn’t mean to leave it! I got distracted and I just – it was a good deal and I thought it would help us mellow out. That it would help you mellow out.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean.”

“Steve…..you can’t honestly tell me you don’t know how much of a fucking asshole you’ve been to me today?”

“I’m not the asshole who prioritised a fucking drug deal over food and medicine!”

“Ohh my god, Steve! I bought our fucking food, I bought our fucking medicine, I just forgot it, okay?! I forgot to pick the bag up off the ground, heaven forbid a guy make a mistake every once in while!”

Steve could see that Eddie was visibly upset, and he knew he felt awful about forgetting their things. He was about to apologise for overreacting when he noticed Eddie freeze up once again, patting his pockets frantically and moaning.

“What. Eddie, what? What’s wrong now?”

“….Can’t find my wallet. I think I left it in the bag.”

Steve could have sworn he saw red. They’d put almost all of their money together in Eddie’s wallet, leaving just enough for hotel fees in Steve’s, a stupid fucking thing to do in hindsight but something that neither of them had assumed would fuck them in the ass later.

“I genuinely don’t know what to say to you. Oh my fucking god.”

Steve saw Eddie wince out of the corner of his eye, and he realised he had quite possibly never hated himself more than he did in that moment. He was acting just like his father, but he couldn’t seem to stop. The anger was so palpable he could hardly breathe.

They drove the rest of the way back to the store in silence. Eddie was yanking the passenger door open before the car had even come to a full stop, sprinting towards the back of the store. Steve watched as his boyfriend emerged from behind the building empty handed several moments later, taking in his devastated expression. He swore loudly before resting his head on the steering wheel, motionless as Eddie got back into the car.

“…I found a ten in my pocket, but we might need it for gas later on.” He heard Eddie mutter.

“We don’t. We need food and medicine more.”

“No, dude, we’re gonna need more gas.”

“And I’m telling you, we don’t. Come on, I’ll buy us stuff this time.”

Steve looked over at the older man and held his hand out expectantly for the money. The look Eddie shot his way was lethal. The metalhead slapped the bill into his palm.

“Knock yourself out, mom.”

Steve got out of the car.

“Rather be a mom than a brat.”

He slammed the door behind him.

~~~~~~

“Hh-HH! Heh’ENGXT’tchieww!! HDT’Tsiewww!! Eht’tchieww! Hh’ISSSH’ieww!!”

Eddie’s head rocked forward with the force of the fit, clutching the steering wheel like a lifeline. Luckily he hadn’t veered off course too much this time. He noticed suddenly that Steve had reached out to steady the wheel while he sneezed, and though the gesture was perfectly reasonable, he was already so angry with him that it just served to piss him off more than anything. He snuffled and elbowed Steve’s hand away.

“Dude, I got this. Leave it alone.”

Steve threw up his hands and rolled his eyes, a supremely immature gesture that made Eddie resent him all the more. It was a sickening feeling, being angry with Steve, and on top of his worsening cold Eddie didn’t know how much more he could take. He was angry at himself, as well. He felt stupid, so fucking stupid. Steve was right to be pissed at him for the colossal fuck-up he had managed to achieve – hell, we would be pissed at Steve had their roles been reversed.

What really fucking stung, though, was the disappointment and derision his boyfriend had directed his way. It was nasty and it wasn’t like anything he’d ever experienced before from the former jock, even when he really had been an asshole at school. He was normally such a sweetheart. He understood that Eddie could lose track of time, forget what he was doing in any given moment. It was part of what had made school so miserable – he had tried his best but it was like no matter how much he tried to focus, he just couldn’t. Like his brain was on constant overdrive. He thought Steve had accepted that about him, really understood him. But the way he’d looked at him when Eddie had messed up at the gas station, the tone of his voice – it hurt so badly he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. He knew Steve was sick, and that made him sulky, but fuck, man.

He heard Steve gasp beside him. They’d both started sneezing in earnest a few hours ago, raging their way through the small box of tissues Steve had managed to buy for them alongside a bottle of Tylenol and a single sandwich that they had split. They were down to just a few tissues.

“HAAAEEESHHH’uuu!! HARRESHHHIEWW!! TISSSSH’ieww!!”

Eddie listened in vague appreciation to the rich vocal sound of Steve’s increasingly violent cold sneezes, wishing he didn’t hate him so much in that moment so he could enjoy them in full. He was concerned at the way they had Steve tumbling forward over his knees, jerking against the restraint of his seat belt. Any thought of them actually having a good time at this concert had all but vanished at this point, but to admit that out loud would be to admit defeat, and mean they’d put themselves through all this misery for fucking nothing.

Steve swiped the last two tissues from the box and blew his nose, a thick, crackling sound that betrayed just how congested he was becoming. Two wouldn’t be enough, Eddie knew, and his suspicions were confirmed when Steve rooted in his pocket to finish cleaning himself up with a used, balled-up tissue. Eddie sighed. He had a few bandanas in his backpack – he could offer one to Steve now, but he just couldn’t stand the thought of talking to him.

They drove for another 30 or so minutes before Eddie started to pull up to a gas station. Steve sat up and looked at him questioningly.

“Why are we stopping at a gas station?”

“To watch a fucking movie.”

“Eddie-“

“We’re fucking obviously getting gas, Steve - we’re not gonna last the rest of the drive.”

“With what money are you getting gas?”

Eddie glared at Steve, patience worn completely thin. God, the way he was talking to him like he was his fucking dad, or something. It was infuriating.

“We still have the money in your wallet – it would only cost a couple of bucks.”

“No, no – we worked it out, this is just enough for our hotel. We can’t show up short, they’d turn us away.”

“They’re not gonna get the chance to turn us away if we don’t even ghh-get th-there-hh!!”

Eddie scrubbed at his flaring nostrils in a desperate attempt to mollify the tickle, but luck was decidedly not on his side today.

“Ehh-!! EGXXXT’shiewww!! HAHDT’chieww!! IGSHHH!! HIGXT’shieww!! EHH’TSSCH’ieww!! Ahh…F-fuck…”

The sneezes were intense and incredibly wet, curling him over the steering wheel and forcing tears of irritation from his eyes. He felt Steve reach out to steady the wheel again, this time not fighting it. He was almost trembling in the aftermath of that fit, an unwelcome combination of pleasure and frustration prickling at his skin. He sniffled miserably.

“Bless you.”

He blushed in response to the blessing, neither of them having acknowledged each other’s sneezing for hours. Perhaps Steve had temporarily forgotten to be angry with him, given the dramatic scene he had just made. For the first time in their relationship, he cursed their shared fetish - it was making things increasingly complicated. He did not like the mixed signals his brain was sending him – ‘never talk to Steve ever again’ and ‘fuck Steve in the back seat right now’ were about as contradictory as could be, and the confusion only made him grumpier.

He continued to drive towards the gas station, about to pull in when Steve’s hand, still firmly wrapped round the wheel, twisted them away. Eddie yelped in surprise.

“Are you fucking insane, Harrington?! What are you doing?!”

“We don’t need gas, Munson. I told you already.”

Eddie could hardly believe what was happening. He had never known Steve to behave so – so childishly. It was fucking rich, considering the brat accusation Steve had hurled his way earlier that day. He smacked Steve’s hand away and continued onward past the gas station.

“Fine. If you fucking say so, King Steve.” He got a small kick of satisfaction watching Steve squirm in response, but otherwise saying nothing.

“We’re switching in 20 minutes.” Steve mumbled after a beat.

Eddie grunted in recognition. He wondered if Steve realised he wasn’t due to drive for another hour, but he was feeling far too petty and passive-aggressive to correct him.

~~~~~

Eddie was practically tearing his hair out. Some way, somehow, they had managed to get lost. Like, middle of nowhere, cornfields for days lost. Both of them had driven to Indianapolis before without a single issue. This had to be a curse. It just had to be.

The road map spread out over his knees made zero fucking sense – it didn’t help that Steve wouldn’t let him turn on the overhead light, and he was instead holding a torch with half-dead batteries casting a flickering beam over the endless configuration of road diagrams. He was starting to feel a little car sick for his efforts, taking short breaks to peer out of the window and find his bearings. The last of the Tylenol was doing fuck all for him, and he could not. Stop. Sneezing. Case in point, his breath started to hitch yet again.

“Heh-!!”

He fumbled in his pocket for his bandana, almost but not quite bringing it up to cover his mouth in time.

“ENGXTCH’tssieww!!”

The first sneeze burst out of him, pink nostrils flared wide in desperation, dousing the map in his lap with a cloud of spray. He muffled the next three into his bandana, gasping for breath when they finally subsided. This cold – this flu, perhaps – was absolutely kicking his ass. These sneezes gave him hardly any warning, taking on a life of their own and pitching him forward helplessly at their leisure. He blinked down at the map through bleary eyes, noticing to his chagrin that he had sneezed a veritable puddle all over Columbus and the surrounding terrain of about 20 miles. Luckily, not an area they should be anywhere near – though perhaps it couldn’t completely be written off given that they could literally be on god damn Mars as far as Eddie was concerned.

He abandoned the map, attempting to fold it neatly for all of 5 seconds before he was scrunching it up in anger and jamming it back into the glove box. Steve had stopped listening to his suggestions ages ago, anyway. He just kept driving down the endless expanse of the pitch black road, sneezing explosively every couple of minutes. Eddie was no longer glancing at his wristwatch, slowly resigning himself to the fact that they would, in fact, be missing the concert in its entirety. He would cry about it later when Steve couldn’t see. Right now, he was trying not to freak out about the fact that he could have sworn they had driven down this particular spread of infinite road before – not that it looked any different, the only visual markers being corn to the left, corn to the right, corn fucking everywhere.

It's not like this could get any worse.

It was as this traitorous thought flashed through Eddie’s mind that he heard Steve curse and pull the car to the side of the road, just as it sputtered miserably and abruptly stopped dead in its tracks.

~~~~~

They’d been sitting there in silence for at least 10 minutes before Steve started to shiver. It was well into the evening now and the lack of heating of any kind was really starting to get to him. His eyes had adjusted to the dark, at least – it wasn’t that bad, out here. The night sky was even brighter than Hawkins, brimming with the light of a billion stars. He remembered the night that Eddie had taken him up to Weathertop Hill and they’d stargazed for hours, never letting go of each other’s hands. The thought of it right now made his chest hurt. He was positive that Eddie would no longer want to be with him, not after today. In a sad way, he was already in a phase of pre-emptive acceptance – a form of self-protection where he convinced himself that the worst was bound to happen, so he may as well get ready for it. Robin told him he had low self-esteem, but he liked to think of it more as emotional pragmatism.

A sudden small hiccup of breath jolted Steve out of his ruminations. He peered over at his (probably soon to be ex) boyfriend’s back and noticed it was trembling. Another slightly louder gasp of breath graced the air and Steve realised with a sickly, sinking feeling that Eddie was crying. Eddie was crying because of him. Steve had felt pretty fucking awful about his behaviour in the past but nothing, nothing compared to how awful he felt in this moment. The pain in his chest seemed to pulse outwards and engulf him in its entirety.

“….Eddie? Baby?”

His voice sounded so fragile he even shocked himself. Eddie froze for a second before continuing to cry softly, giving Steve nothing in response. Steve noticed that the trembling had become full body shaking. He opened his mouth to speak but was quickly cut off by a fit of sneezes that came on so quickly he only managed to catch the last one in Eddie’s ruined shirt.

“HEEEISSSHHH!! AEEESHHUUU!! HH’TISHHHH!! MMP’TSCHHH!!”

He blushed, wishing not for the first time in his life that he was able to control the volume and force of his sneezing. He normally loved sharing this fetish with Eddie, but in this moment it couldn’t be more of an inconvenience. He blew his nose as quietly as possible, which was not at all, before reaching out a tentative hand to rest in the centre of the older man’s spasming back. He felt Eddie flinch, but he didn’t move away. Steve frowned at the heat emanating beneath his palm, sizzling hot even through the fabric of Eddie’s long-sleeve tee. It startled him, given that he was sure he already had an elevated temperature himself – shouldn’t Eddie feel normal to him? Was he that much warmer?

He felt Eddie’s back expand under his fingertips before the older man was suddenly jerking forward with a series of tightly stifled sneezes, the first five almost completely silent besides a soft squelching sound. Steve rubbed a small circle between Eddie’s shoulder blades in a way that he hoped would be soothing, biting his bottom lip hard as concern coursed through him. Eddie continued to sneeze, finally giving in and letting them loose, the persistent cold-induced tickle leaving him gasping helplessly.

“HIG’tchieww!! Engxt’TCHIEWW!! ‘TCHIEWW!! Eh’NGXT’Tschieww!! Nnn….”

He’d thoroughly sprayed his palm with the fit, which he then wiped shakily on his thigh. Steve heard him sniffle thickly before drooping back against the windowpane. He leaned forward in his seat and placed his other hand on Eddie’s left shoulder.

“Eddie? Are you okay, honey?”

He heard Eddie mumble incoherently before a rumbling cough had him pitching forward again, muscles spasming under Steve’s palm with the effort. Steve cursed and rubbed his back through it. When Eddie’s breath evened out again, Steve used the hand on his shoulder to gently push him back into his seat. The metalhead still wouldn’t look at him, eyes stubbornly fixed to the right, but Steve barely noticed. He took in Eddie’s pale, tear-stained face, the heavy circles under his eyes, his painfully red nose which was leaking down to his lips. He looked pallid, and so, so unwell. His cheeks had little spots of colour on them, a sure sign of fever. Steve felt his heart shatter into a million pieces.

“Ohh, Eds….”

He choked out a sob. It was too much. He hadn’t cried since the aftermath of their stint with Vecna, alone in Robin’s bathroom - and even that had been measured, controlled. He didn’t cry. Harringtons don’t cry. But all the same, here he was, bawling like a little kid. He felt sick, he felt like an asshole, they were lost and cold and hungry and tired and it felt like the end of the world so he just cried and cried and cried.

~~~~~

Eddie had intended to ignore Steve to his final breath. He was too weak to resist as the younger man pushed him back in his seat and out of the passive-aggressive contortion he had worked himself into against the car door. That last fit of sneezes had left his head swimming, and he was honestly grateful for the comfortable upholstery of his boyfriend’s BMW. Even as angry as he was, the warmth and weight of Steve’s hand on his back had been, for a moment, the most reassuring feeling in the world. But Steve didn’t need to know that. Steve could damn well wait until he was ready to forgive him.

But then Steve started crying.

Eddie spun round, eyes fixing firmly on Steve’s crumpled expression. It was terrifying, like seeing a parent or teacher or other unshakeable adult cry for the first time and realising they’re just an overgrown kid themself. His boyfriend looked so vulnerable, so lost, so unbelievably sad that Eddie found that he burst into tears as well. His strong, powerful boyfriend, the same man who had leapt headfirst into a lake in pitch darkness, who had ripped a demon bat monster in two with his bare hands, who had faced paranormal monsters to protect his friends countless times – that man, his Stevie, was crying like a little boy who’d lost his mommy in a supermarket. And it was all his fault.

He reached up and squeezed the hand on his shoulder.

“Stevie…Please don’t cry, Steve, please! It’s ok! We’re ok!”

He was sobbing almost as hard as Steve, ignoring the way the pounding in head was swelling to an almost unbearable throb. He leaned his body awkwardly over into Steve’s seat and wrapped his arms around him in a fierce hug. Fighting be damned, this entire fucking nightmare of a day be damned. He just wanted Steve to stop crying like the world was ending before he actually died of a broken heart.

“Eddie-!! I’m s-sorry-!” Steve choked out where he had buried his face against his shoulder, fingers digging fiercely into Eddie’s back. Eddie shook his head.

“I’m sorry, Stevie – I fucked it up! I always fuck things up!”

Admitting it out loud sent a new wave of sadness rushing through him and he cried harder, squeezing Steve tight.

“Y-you don’t-! You’re not-! It was m-my fault, I was just….awful to you! You didn’t do anything wrong, I fucked it up-!”

Steve sounded close to hyperventilating, so Eddie willed himself to calm down for the both of them. He shushed him gently, stroking his hair and holding his body close as it was wracked with gasping sobs. He’d been such a petty tool, trying to punish Steve with his silence. Steve had been right before – he was a brat, at least he had been today, and he needed to fucking grow up.

“Shh, honey….it’s ok, we were both being fucking assholes. We are fucking assholes, and that’s why we work so well together. We’re soul holes!!”

Steve snorted a brief laugh between sobs and Eddie felt the icy fingertips of dread loosen slightly from where they’d been squeezing his temples in a death grip. He could fix this. As long as they could love each other, everything else was insignificant. They would be okay.

He continued to hold Steve, ignoring the way his back was starting to protest at the angle he was holding himself at. The younger man was starting to calm down, occasional hiccupping breaths shaking him but otherwise slowing his crying. Eddie pressed small kisses to his hair, conscious of his runny nose and trying his best to angle himself in a way he wouldn’t make a total mess of the expertly crafted style Steve was so proud of.

He felt Steve tense in his grip, and started to ask what was wrong when Steve rocked forward against the protective cover of his shoulder and sneezed violently.

“HEHH’MPPTSXHH!! MPP’TSCHIEWW!!! MPPPTSCHHH!!!”

Eddie’s breath hitched, blood rushing south as he felt every shiver, every contraction of Steve’s muscular body in his arms. The sensation of his pointed nose pressing insistently up against his shoulder and the sheer volume of each sneeze so close to his ear had him reeling. They’d been particularly high-pitched for the former jock, making Eddie think he must have had a particularly irritating tickle in his nose. He moaned softly and stroked Steve’s back.

“Bless you, honey. Poor baby,” he sighed, noting that Steve hadn’t made any action to extract his face from where it remained pressed firmly up against him. He could feel the moistened fabric clinging to his skin.

“Did you make a mess, sweetheart?”

“….Ymmf.”

Eddie took that as a ‘yes’.

He gently sat back in his seat, extricating himself from Steve and watching as his boyfriend’s flushed, dripping face came into sight. A thick strand of mess hung between Steve’s left nostril and the damp patch on Eddie’s shirt. Steve scrambled for the shirt in his lap, gingerly wiping the mess away on Eddie’s shoulder and severing the connection before bringing it up to his own nose. His eyes were puffy and sore as he peered up at Eddie, blushing behind the bundle of fabric pressed to his face.

Eddie reached out and squeezed Steve’s thigh. A sudden sharp pain speared through his skull and he audibly groaned, pressing his head back against his seat. Steve took his hand in his own. They sat for a moment, not talking, but for the first time that day the silence was comfortable.

~~~~~

Steve’s head throbbed in the aftermath of what had to be one of the most intense cries of his life. It wasn’t something he wanted to experience in any regular capacity. He was also terribly embarrassed, even though it was just Eddie who had seen him. Robin was constantly reminding him that it was healthy to accept when you needed help, or to recognise when you were approaching your limit. Some metaphor about a pot boiling over that had just made Steve’s mind wander to the food he had planned to cook for when the kids came round to his apartment later that week. The point being, he should definitely work on his listening skills and Robin was right. Again.

He could feel Eddie shaking as he held his palm in his own. The older man was leaning back into his seat with a pained expression plastered to his face. Steve cleared his throat.

“So….”

Eddie squeezed his hand.

“Yeah, Big Boy?”

“On a scale of 1 to 10, 1 being ‘this is a total downer’ and 10 being ‘I would like to request some assistance in dying’, where are you at right now?”

He heard Eddie chuckle before moaning softly.

“About a gazillion. I feel….really fucking bad, Stevie.”

Steve turned his head to take in the older man’s appearance once more. He was deathly pale, looking even worse than he had just 10 minutes earlier. Steve tried not to panic.

“You look awful, Eds…” he cooed.

Eddie cracked a crooked smile at him.

“You sure know how to make a guy f-feel…special-hh’HH!! ENGXT’Chieww!! HDDT’chieww!! IGSHHH’ieww!! Hhh’HDT’chieww-IGT’chieww-ICKKSHH!! Ohhh, Jesus…”

Steve was unable to make out the spray in the dark, but he could hear just how wet and sickly each sneeze sounded. His cock throbbed in his jeans, unbelievably still as interested in Eddie’s impressive displays of sensitivity as ever. Eddie snuffled thickly and Steve held out the soiled shirt to him. Eddie took it and blew his nose on a dry spot, of which there were now exceedingly few. Steve rubbed his thumb in circles on the back of Eddie’s hand. His boyfriend groaned before speaking again.

“Ugh, I can’t fucking stop. This has to be some new kind of super plague.”

“Well, it’s no walk in the park, that’s for sure.”

He felt Eddie squeeze his hand.

“What about you? Scale of 1 to 10?”

Steve paused, doing a quick mental scan of his general wellbeing. He felt like ass.

“…A billion, maybe? Not as bad as you.”

Eddie scoffed.

“You’ve gotta be feeling pretty bad to cry like that.”

Steve bristled, embarrassment pulsing through him.

“I-!! You were-! I just-!”

“Woahhh, dude, it’s okay – I’m not mocking you, or anything. I was cryin’ too. Before you even started. It’s no big deal, Stevie. I just know it’s not something you do very often – or, at all, actually?”

Steve sighed.

“Yeah. You know – you know my dad. How he feels about – vulnerability, or whatever.”

“Yeah.”

Steve felt the ever-present tickle in his sinuses flicker to life, suddenly and with little warning. He pitched forward with another round of messy cold sneezes.

“HH’RIISHHHH!! HAARRRESHEWW!! ITSSCHHHH!!”

“Engxt’chiew!! Hh!! HIG’Tchieww!! Ingxt’chieww!! ENGXT’TCHIEWWW!!”

Steve and Eddie made eye contact at the same time, sheepishly turning to look at one another behind their protective barriers of choice – Steve’s hands, steepled to his face, and Eddie’s elbow, which he gripped steadily with his other arm. They burst into laughter, stopping only when Steve buckled forward with a coughing fit, Eddie whacking him on the back as he proceeded to sputter and choke. He finally leant back, wiping the spittle from his lips.

“What the actual fuck is our life right now, dude.”

“You know? I think it’s actually pretty on brand for us, man.”

Steve shot a sardonic glance his way.

“Elaborate.”

“Just, you know – the first time I really spoke to you outside of the occasional encounter at school? I was literally on the run, a god damn murder suspect. We fought demon monsters in an alternate dimension. I figured out you liked me because we have this fucking obscure fetish and you kept popping boners all allergy season.”

Steve groaned.

“Shut upppp…”

Eddie didn’t shut up.

 “What I mean, is this: we’ve never done anything in an even remotely conventional fashion. I think I may genuinely be allergic to conformity. What’s another allergy to me?”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I am. We are. It’s fitting that our first real fight be such a huge, dramatic affair that ends with us freezing to death on the side of a country road. Poetic, some might say.”

“We’re not going to die out here, man. Somebody’ll come by.”

Even as Steve said it, he was doubtful. They’d been driving alone for hours before the car had stopped and nothing had come from either direction since. More worryingly, though, was the fact that he could now see his own breath, and Eddie’s teeth were starting to chatter. He fiddled with the ring on Eddie’s index finger.

“Let’s get in the backseat, share some body heat, okay?”

He watched Eddie nod briskly, face scrunching up.

“Okay. Want to hold you. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too. It’s okay though, remember? It’s okay.”

~~~~~~

Twenty minutes later and the two were bundled up in the backseat of Steve’s car. They’d at least remembered to bring coats with them, but otherwise assumed due to the heat of the venue and the quick turn around from car to hotel to venue to car, they wouldn’t need such heavy padding. Luckily, Steve found an old blanket in the trunk from the last time they’d gone on a picnic, which was now firmly secured around them. Eddie complained the blanket was too scratchy, but Steve had replied that there was no way he could tell through his thick Winter parka. Eddie had eventually conceded.

Steve had wedged himself against the car door, the hood of his thick coat offering some cushioning. Eddie was lying in his arms, his back up against Steve’s chest, head resting on his shoulder. They nestled into each other, desperately seeking each other’s warmth. Eddie felt like a furnace to Steve – which, given the circumstances, was not unwelcome, but it worried him to no end that the long-haired man continued to shiver in his arms despite their combined heat.

They had retired Eddie’s Black Sabbath shirt as an honorary snot rag, moving on to Steve’s extra polo shirt as their new makeshift tissue. It was currently pressed up against Eddie’s face as he shook with yet another sneezing fit.

“ENGXT’tchieww!! HDDT’tchieww!! TSCH’ieww!! HAGT’TSCHIEWWW!!! Uhgg…”

He snuffled thickly, settling back against the younger man. Steve’s cock was hard, pressed up as it was against Eddie’s lower back. He loved being able to experience every tremor, every jerk that travelled through his poor love’s body as the sneezes rocked him back and forth. He knew Eddie could feel how excited he was, but they both ignored it.

The metalhead had suggested fooling around to keep them warm, and Steve had even entertained the idea, thinking he could maybe get past the tight band of tension squeezing at his temples. An orgasm might even lessen the discomfort. But then Eddie had all but swooned to the gravelly earth the second he attempted to get out of the car, and Steve had nipped that idea in the bud almost instantly. He sprinted over to his boyfriend and helped him to his feet – slowly, since that sprint had left his head swimming and black spots dancing before his eyes. He’d deposited Eddie in the backseat, grabbed the blanket, and arranged them as best he could.

Eddie had wanted to be the big spoon, but Steve had flat out refused, stating that he didn’t want to be responsible for squashing the older man to death in his weakened state. He had at least 20 pounds on him and the pressure of his solid musculature pressing the dungeon master up against the door was a surefire way to suffocate him. Eddie had argued that Steve was faring no better than he in the oxygen department, pointing out that he was still winded by the tumultuous journey from trunk to backseat. Steve told him to bite him. Eddie reached out and nibbled on his forearm.

So here they were, mercifully settled at last. Or, as settled as they could be, given that they were frequently curled upwards or jostled backwards by their damn near constant sneezing. As Eddie scrubbed his itchy nostrils against the fabric of the shirt, Steve pressed kisses to his fuzzy curls.

“Bless you, baby. That was a big one, at the end.”

“Mmm. They’re conspiring to kill me.”

Steve snorted.

“’They’? Your sneezes?”

“Absolutely. Always been out to get me, but now they’ve finally decided to put me out of my misery.”

“So dramatic.”

Eddie fidgeted in Steve’s arms, trying to realign himself to the choice position he had been in before his cold had so rudely uprooted him. Steve bit his lip as Eddie rubbed up against his cock, holding back a moan. The older man seemed to find a position he was happy with and went boneless against Steve, letting out a tiny little mewl of satisfaction. Steve tightened his arms around him, an overwhelming wave of affection urging him to draw his boyfriend closer to him.

“You’re so cute, Munson.”

“I know. Now tell me I’m pretty.”

“You’re so pretty.”

“Flatterer. Keep it coming.”

“You’re s-so-! Ohh, gonna-!! HH’HEH!!”

Eddie lifted the shirt in his grasp, angling it back over his shoulder. Steve frantically pressed his face into the folds, inhaled deeply enough to lift Eddie up an inch or two, and sneezed forcefully.

“HRRRRSHH’MPH!! TISHHHHH!! HAEEESHHH!! HEH-!! HEYYYESSSHEWWW!!!”

He groaned in the aftermath, head pounding. Eddie was right, this did feel like some kind of super plague. He was sneezing every couple of minutes or so like clockwork, and every fit seemed to wipe him out as if he’d finished running a marathon. He panted into the cloth for a moment longer, feeling his boyfriend clumsily wipe his nose and mouth as best he could from the awkward angle. He nodded, signalling it was ok for Eddie to lower the shirt. He felt the older man squirm slightly, curls brushing against his face as he angled himself back to press a soft kiss to his jaw.

“God bless you, Stevie. Such a tickle.”

Steve blushed at the attention, his cock giving an appreciative throb in his jeans. He once again entertained the idea of fucking in the backseat, was about to vocalise this when Eddie hissed in pain, head pushing back and digging into Steve’s shoulder. He could see the grimace on the older man’s face.

“Baby?”

Eddie didn’t answer, riding out what Steve knew to be another round of deep throbs in his skull. Brow furrowed in concern, he stroked an arm gently up and down his boyfriend’s side as the dungeon master strained against him. His erection was flagging, momentarily catching up to the seriousness and decided unsexiness of the situation they were in. The older man finally seemed to relax, a shaky exhale leaving him. Steve nuzzled his face down into his curls.

“Feel so bad, Stevie…gettin’ worse…”

Eddie was panting slightly, the small puffs of exhalation visible in the frigid air.

“I’m sorry, honey.”

He didn’t know what else to say. He could feel his own body starting to ache, head swimming with fever. It’d only been an hour since their car had died, but they’d gotten so much sicker in that time that Steve was starting to worry in earnest. He didn’t think they would die, nothing quite so dramatic as that, but they would need more water soon at the pace they were needily gulping it down, and he was worried about Eddie’s fever. If Robin were there – god, how he wished she was – she’d tell him to worry about himself as well, before rattling off about a billion different contradictory fever reduction techniques. He smiled at the thought of her, his partner in crime, feeling slightly better for picturing her face.

He reached for a bottle of water and took a long drink before offering it to Eddie, forcing him to drink as well. When they were finished, he snuggled down again into his boyfriend’s curls.

“We’ll be okay, Munson. We survived the Upside Down, we can survive rural Indiana.”

~~~~~

Eddie had no idea how long it had been by the time he heard the familiar rumbling of an approaching vehicle through the foggy haze of his fever. He and Steve were in a state of persistent half-consciousness. They would both be right on the brink of sleep when one of them would succumb to a tickle in their nose, shaking them both to full wakefulness. It had gotten progressively less jarring after the fiftieth time; it almost felt routine.

The metalhead could feel Steve’s cock, half-hard, pressing up against him. He ought to be surprised his boyfriend could still feel arousal given their less than stellar circumstances, but then he would absolutely be the proverbial kettle calling the pot black. His own erection would come and go with every fit of sneezes from either himself or his boyfriend, making him feel like a horny middle schooler. He was almost glad he was too sick to be embarrassed about it. Almost.

He had just finished mumbling a blessing to Steve, his boyfriend having sprayed down the front of his coat with a fierce triple, when the unmistakeable crunch of tires on gravel perked him up faster than an espresso shot.

“Steve? Steve! I think there’s a car – no, yeah, there’s a fucking car, man!”

“Holy shit!”

He felt Steve start and attempted to shuffle off him, but found himself flopping helplessly backwards, entirely winded by the effort.

“Ugh, sorry…”

Steve gently rocked him forward and quickly arranged him so that he was sitting up in his seat, before kissing his cheek and scrambling onto the road.

“Be careful-!” Eddie shouted, immediately regretting raising his voice as he doubled over with a hacking cough. He brought the nearby water bottle to his lips with shaking hands and took a generous swig, gasping. He could make out the headlights of a van pulling up behind them, then the rumbles of a conversation. Alongside Steve’s voice, a rougher, deeper voice registered. A man, then. He swallowed the fear that this guy might clock them as a couple of queers – or maybe he was a serial killer? They were screwed either way. He closed his eyes and listened. No shouting, just a gentle back and forth. He heard Steve sneeze, then the other man chuckle. It was a friendly sound. He relaxed a little.

He started slightly at the sound of the door beside him opening, looking up to see Steve leaning over him.

“Hey, Eds. Great news, this guy – Leonard – he’s heading straight to Indianapolis. Before you ask, don’t worry, I saw his ID. He’s delivering deckchairs, or something? Anyway - he’s got some gas for the car, but when I told him we were sick he said we could ride in the back of his truck and he’d tow us the rest of the way.”

Eddie smiled softly, happy to see Steve looking a little more animated, even if he did look like death warmed up. The eye bags he was sporting made his droopy brown eyes look even lazier than usual. It was worrying, but still cute. Steve held out a hand and helped him climb out of the car. He felt shaky on his legs, like a baby deer. Glancing over Steve’s shoulder he spotted a jovial, middle-aged man approaching with a tow rope. He was sporting a flannel shirt over a pendulous beer belly, peaked cap on his head and a huge copper beard engulfing his face. He looked rough, but his eyes were kind and his smile was soothing.

“You must be Eddie!” Leonard said, walking over to them. He frowned a little as he took in the sight of the two of them up close. “Christ, boys, you look just about dead on your feet! Pardon me sayin’.”

Eddie huffed a small laugh.

“No, you’re right. We’ve been…better.”

Leonard smiled at him, looking paternal and endeared. Eddie liked the guy already – he sort of reminded him of Wayne, albeit a much more chipper Wayne.

“Well, don’t you worry. You and Steve just hop on in the back of the ol’ dream machine and I’ll take you far as you need to go. Y’all said you’re heading to Indy?”

“That was the plan.” Steve confirmed, trying to sniffle as discreetly as possible.

“Great – like I said, I’m heading straight over there, but if you’d prefer, I know a decent little motel just outside city limits that’ll have some vacancies?”

“That would be great,” Eddie almost moaned, thinking that even the grubbiest motel mattress in the world would be heaven right about now.

“Sure thing, sure thing. Well, we should be there in less than hour, give or take.”

“Um, Leonard? I meant to ask but – where exactly are we?” Steve asked.

“Just outside of Rushville.”

Eddie and Steve gaped. They’d somehow managed to clear straight past Indianapolis altogether and keep on south. Their faces must have successfully conveyed their almost comical shock, as Leonard bellowed out a rumbling laugh.

“You boys really got the short end of the stick today, huh? Come on, get your asses in the truck – I’ll finish up here and we can get on the road.”

“Thank you, Leonard, really – this is – we were really in a rough place-“ Steve started.

“Don’t you worry, now. Go on, get – there are tissues in the back. I get hayfever something fierce come Spring.”

Eddie watched Steve nod before his strong arm was wrapped around his waist, supporting the metalhead as he walked them both to the Truck in question. They had to pause briefly for Eddie to sneeze, a helpless little fit of six partially stifled paroxysms. Leonard offered a cheery blessing from where he was securing their car, and Eddie blushed. It was going to be a long hour.

~~~~

Steve woke up, slowly, pulled out of sleep first by the slow halt of the truck and then the gentle rumble of Leonard’s voice.

“Boys? We’re here. Rise and shine, now.”

Steve blinked open his eyes, taking in Leonard’s kind expression as he leaned back over his shoulder to look at them. The former jock was aware of the weight of Eddie’s head on his shoulder, and with a sudden icy rush of panic moved to gently push him away. It wasn’t that he thought Leonard would do anything to them, per se, but they needed to be careful. Eddie already attracted so much attention, not that Steve would change anything about him for the world – but still.

Eddie groaned and sat up gradually, squashing his fists up against his eyes and moving them in slow circles. Steve noticed that his boyfriend had left a little pool of saliva – or was it snot – where he’d been resting on his shoulder. They’d both fallen asleep within minutes, the blessed heating of Leonard’s dream machine wrapping warmth around them like the plushest of blankets. Steve was relieved, having been prepared for the embarrassing scenario in which he and Eddie sneezed nonstop all over the inside of the poor man’s vehicle for 50 minutes straight. He was already extremely grateful and a little shocked that Leonard had taken in the sight of their painfully obvious illness and let them ride with him in the first place.

“You boys went out like a light. Sure is nice to be young, huh?”

Steve felt Eddie jump beside him, and realised the older man had temporarily forgotten where he was. He patted him on the shoulder before turning back to Leonard.

“I’m so sorry we just passed out on you, sir. We didn’t make for good company at all.”

“Don’t you worry about that, son. You looked like you needed a decent night’s sleep. Speaking of, you should be able to get some more shut-eye at this little establishment. ‘Rita’s Motel’ – sure, it’s not the Ritz, by any means, but she’s served me well.”

Steve unbuckled his seat belt and leaned forward to look past Leonard at the small building in front of them. The motel was like any other, perhaps slightly homelier than most.

“Thank you, Leonard, for everything. I, uh, I really want to pay you back, but – we’re running low on cash, probably just enough for a night here, and-“

“I won’t hear it, Steve. You boys are clearly in a pinch. Not a single penny will I take. Now, come on, let’s get you inside. I’ll fill up the car while you sign in, then I’ll be on my way.”

Steve mumbled his thanks, over and over, feeling and sounding like he was about to burst into tears at any moment. The relief was overwhelming. Leonard slapped a broad palm down on his shoulder and chuckled, assuring him it was nothing. They were interrupted by a sudden burst of sneezes behind them. Steve turned and watched Eddie catch another three exceptionally loud and sickly sounding sneezes in his upraised hands.

“ENGGXXXTCHHH!!! IGXXT’SHIEWW!! Hahh’ENGXT’Tchiewww!!”

Steve’s heart lurched in his chest. He willed his cock to calm down; the last thing he wanted or needed in this very moment was to shield a mighty erection from their kind-hearted saviour. Eddie snuffled, the sound thick and incredibly messy. The older man blushed deeply behind his hands as he noticed both pairs of eyes trained on him – if he hadn’t been fully awake before, he sure was now.

“Good god, bless you!” Leonard exclaimed.

Eddie blushed an even darker shade of red, mumbling his thanks and frantically searching for something to clean himself up with, or perhaps a hole to go die in. Steve reached back beside Eddie and grabbed the almost full box of tissues Leonard had mentioned earlier. Eddie hesitated for a moment, and both Leonard and Steve seemed to realise his situation as he made no move to shift his hands from their steepled position over his face. They turned around to give the metalhead some privacy, Leonard making his way out of the truck and offering Steve a hand down out of the side door, having climbed over the seat to follow him.

“You take those tissues with you,” Leonard directed at Eddie as he opened up the exterior door for him to climb out. “Won’t be needing them for a while, anyways!”

Steve reached out to steady his boyfriend by the elbow, supporting him as he jumped down from the truck on shaky legs. True to his word, Leonard escorted them inside the antiquated reception area and got to talking with the small owlish looking woman behind the desk. Steve quickly realised this was the titular Rita, and that she was just as friendly and parental as the trucker.

“Oh, you poor things!” She cried, taking in the sight of the two of them, shivering pathetically behind Leonard’s great bulk. Both of them blushed to their ears – the attention was nice, but more than a little overwhelming.

Within minutes, Rita had signed them in and handed over the keys to their room. She had given them a discount, the cost far cheaper than Steve had been expecting. He wondered if it had anything to do with the violent triple of sneezes he had pathetically muffled into a balled up tissue as he gave her his details.  Maternal to her core, she had even thrust a bottle of Tylenol and another of cold medicine their way, free of charge from the little supply she kept on hand. It felt like the universe was righting itself for all the bad luck they’d suffered that day, putting such kind and generous people in their path. Eddie tried to offer the left-over money to Leonard when he came back in from topping up their car, but he refused.

“You boys take care, now. You need anything, you go to Rita, okay? You’ll help these kids out, won’t you, old girl?”

“I don’t know this ‘old girl’ you’re referring to, Len, but I will certainly be here if you need me, boys.”

Leonard gently slapped them both on the back before saying his goodbyes, and then Rita was leading them to their room. Eddie and Steve thanked her and closed the door behind her. They wordlessly shucked off their coats, climbed into the double bed, and were asleep in seconds.

~~~~~~

“Hello?”

“Uncle Wayne?”

Wayne paused for a moment, recognising his nephew’s voice but taken aback by how worse for wear he sounded.

“You okay, son? What’re you doin’ callin’ me at 6 in the morning? I thought you’d be out all night at that concert.”

He heard Eddie sigh deeply before the unmistakable sound of him smothering a fit of coughs crackled down the line. Worry spread through his chest, that old paternal panic gripping him.

“Eddie?”

“Y-yeah, sorry. Actually, we, um? We didn’t make it. We got lost. And then we ran out of gas. In the middle of nowhere. And we’re both down with the fucking plague. So. I’m at a motel right now, a couple of miles outside of Indianapolis. We stayed here last night.”

Wayne blinked at the sudden overload of information. When he’d registered everything Eddie had told him, he sighed wearily.

“How in the hell did you and Steve manage to pull that off?” He light-heartedly jabbed.

“Ughh, I don’t know. We were fighting, like, all day, Wayne. We’re okay now but it was just awful. And so fucking stupid.”

Wayne sighed again.

“Well, as long as you’re okay. Situations like this are the kind of thing that make or break a couple, so if you’re both doing just fine now, I’d say you have successfully navigated your way to the next stage of your relationship.”

“You think so?”

Wayne smiled. Eddie seemed to have perked right up at that, just as intended.

“I do. Now, what do you need me for, you menace?”

~~~~~~

“HHHR’RRISHHH’IEW!! HRRRSHHCH’UU!! AESSSHHUUU!!!”

“Oh my god, Stevie. Bless you, angel!”

“Mmn. Thank you.”

Eddie closed the door behind him, shivering as he came inside from his trip to the payphone. Rita’s Motel had comfortable mattresses but was alarmingly lacking in working telephones. He kicked off his shoes and pulled off his coat, unceremoniously dumping it on the floor, before stripping off the rest of his clothes. He took in the sight of Steve bundled up in bed, looking painfully adorable with his messy hair and little red nose, before climbing in beside him. He nuzzled up to him, rubbing his cold nose up against Steve’s.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“How’re you feeling, big boy?”

“Like shit, still, but better. The cold medicine worked. Headache’s gone.” Steve pressed a small kiss to his lips. “What about you?”

Eddie kissed him back.

“Compared to last night? Waaay better, man.”

Steve furrowed his brow and reach out to press the back of his hand to his boyfriend’s forehead.

“You’re still really warm, but not quite so bad. I was really worried about you, honey.”

Eddie closed his eyes, pushing his thigh between Steve’s legs and bringing the younger man’s hand down from his forehead to clutch it against his chest.

“Worried about you too, baby.”

They lay there for a couple of minutes in comfortable silence before Steve spoke up.

“Did you get through to Wayne?”

“Oh yeah, shit. Sorry. Yeah. He’s coming through with Hopper later. Should get here around mid-day, he thinks.”

Steve blinked at him.

“Hopper’s coming? Why?”

“He said he owed him one. Hopper’ll come down with Wayne, then he’ll drive your car back up while we die a slow, miserable death in the back of Wayne’s car.”

“Oh…”

“Why even call Wayne to come down in the first place if we have a car full of gas, y’know? He just didn’t want us to drive, and towing the car would be a huge pain in the ass.”

“Right. Sorry. Took me a moment.”

Eddie leaned forward and kissed Steve right on the tip of his nose.

“It’s okay, baby, you’re sick.”

Steve’s nose wrinkled up at the teasing touch of Eddie’s lips against the sensitive skin.

“Eddie, Mm’gonna…gonna snee-!”

“Don’t hold back, baby. Let it out for me.”

Steve obeyed, taking in a final gasping breath, chest swelling to capacity, before sneezing unhindered onto his boyfriend’s face.

“HAAARESHHIIIEWW!! AEESHHHUUUU!! GITSCHHH’EWW!! TISSSSCHH’IEWW!!”

Eddie moaned in appreciation at the sensation of spray drenching his features, eyes closing reflexively against the force of it. Steve’s sneezes were already so loud and cock-teasingly desperate on a regular day, but the never-ending tickle his cold had inflicted upon him made them even more powerful. Within moments, Eddie was almost completely hard, the sudden rush of blood to his cock leaving him more than a little dizzy.

“Fuuuck, baby! Such big sneezes. Bless you.”

~~~~

Steve reached for a tissue from the box lying between them – Rita had gifted them with another several alongside Leonard’s gracious offering – and gently wiped the spray from his boyfriend’s face, blushing slightly to see droplets starting to roll their way across Eddie’s cheeks to the pillowcase.

“Damn, those were big!”

“Mmhmm. Just how I like them. You’re so gorgeous when you have a tickle, Stevie.”

Steve reached down between Eddie’s legs, smirking at the gasp the older man choked out as he gave his cock a teasing squeeze.

“You really are feeling better, huh?” He started to pump the length, long, slow strokes that squeezed the head of Eddie’s cock before making their way back down.

“Fuckk, Steve-!”

“Is that good, baby?”

“So good, always so good, holy shit-!”

Eddie bucked involuntarily in his grasp at a particularly hard squeeze to the base of his cock. Steve’s breath stuttered, feeling Eddie’s thigh press up against his own budding erection as his body jerked against him. Moaning, he pressed their foreheads together.

“You wanna get off with me, Munson?”

Eddie laughed breathily.

“Is the pope a catholic?”

“Ugh, don’t make me think about God right now, man.”

“Why? I’m right here.” Eddie grinned at him, looking far too pleased with himself. The cocky expression was somewhat weakened by his miserable complexion and swollen pink nose.

Steve wanted to think of a witty retort, but any thoughts of meeting Eddie with some cleverly formulated response vanished the second he felt his boyfriend’s sweaty palm wrapping around his cock and jerking it with several fast, hard pulls.

“Ohh, yeah,” He moaned, losing himself in the sensation, eyes fluttering shut and teeth biting down on his bottom lip. He was already embarrassingly close. His own hand faltered only temporarily before returning to stroking his boyfriend in earnest. Eddie pushed his thigh up harder between Steve’s legs, and he gasped.

“Mm, you like that, big boy?” Eddie moaned, mouthing at Steve’s lips. Steve closed the space between them and kissed him, both groaning as Eddie sucked hard on Steve’s tongue. They couldn’t keep it up much longer, though, noses far too stuffed up. It didn’t matter; they exchanged small kisses again and again, hands working each other in the ways they knew they liked best.

Steve peered down his nose at Eddie, his boyfriend’s face a rictus of concentrated pleasure, eyelashes fluttering  above blushing cheeks as he panted and moaned. He looked so good like this; Steve felt himself lurch even closer to orgasm. He pictured the older man sneezing messily, an endless fit on loop for him in his mind, even as he stared at Eddie’s nose just at the end of his own. His nostrils would flare every now and then, in pleasure rather than in response to a burgeoning tickle. The subtle movements were such a tease – Steve wanted to watch those poor pink nostrils flare to capacity as Eddie built to a powerful sneezing fit. He cock throbbed against his boyfriend’s fingers.

Mind made up, Steve pushed their noses together and rubbed them back and forth. Eddie glanced down at them, slightly bewildered and looking temporarily cross-eyed. It was so cute – Steve chuckled under his breath, all the while continuing to rub his nose against Eddie’s, hoping to coax a sneeze (or five) out of him. He felt Eddie’s nostrils flaring wildly as he rubbed his nose down the side of the metalhead’s twitching appendage. His own nostrils flared minutely in a sort of sympathy twitch.

“Hh-HH!! Ohh, Stevie, s’gonna make me – make me-!!”

Steve groaned, just about managing to hold back from coming at his boyfriend’s words. He loved that Eddie played up every tickle for his pleasure, knew just what to say to work him all the way up. He nuzzled their noses together, slowly, feeling every tick of Eddie’s nostrils against him as they flared wide. A few more breathy, mewling gasps escaped from the older man before he was pulling back with a frantic urgency.

Steve started to come at the sight of the metalhead poised right on the precipice of losing all control. His eyebrows arched, mouth hanging slack as his nostrils twitched and twitched. He buckled forward at last, aiming each sneeze down between them. Steve’s orgasm engulfed him as he felt his boyfriend’s fit bathe his cock in spray, huge, cold-induced sneezes that he himself had helped to tease out.

“HIDDDTT’SHIEEWWW!! AHDDTT’ZSHIEWW!! EHh-NGXTCH’CHIEWW!! GXXTSH’TZSIEW!!”

A few more desperate, hitching gasps before a final, definitive “EHH’DZZTT’TSCHIEWW!!!” burst out of Eddie, so strong he trembled with it.

The orgasm continued to pulse outwards from his cock and throughout his limbs, the sweetest pleasure, leaving him shaking and moaning the metalhead’s name, coming in heavy spurts into the cage of his fingers.

He wound down from his peak, feeling sleepy all at once but willing himself to stay awake. Eddie was staring at him with a look of such intense desire that Steve’s spent cock pulsed pitifully in response. His grip retightened on Eddie’s cock and he resumed his stroking, desperate to watch his boyfriend fall into an orgasm of his own.

“Bless you, baby, fuckkk. That felt so good. You’re incredible.”

Eddie groaned, sniffling at the slight mess that dripped from his nose after that body-bending fit. He looked up at Steve before raising his hand to his lips and licking at the mess the former jock had left all over his fingers.

“Mm. You taste amazing, Stevie. Not that I can taste all that much right now.” He flashed a cheeky grin at Steve.

Steve grinned back and pulled Eddie closer to him with his free arm, pressing their chests flush together. It made jerking his boyfriend off a little harder, but they both sighed in satisfaction at the skin contact. Steve felt Eddie’s thighs starting to twitch, saw how his face had started to screw up – sure signs of his approaching orgasm. Not to mention the filthy, nonsensical ramblings pouring from his mouth that normally started up when he began to fall to pieces.

Eddie reached up to cup Steve’s cheek with his clean hand, tilting his face towards him.

“Do you have a tickle, baby? Sneeze for me?”

Steve sniffled experimentally. His cold had left him with a near-constant tickle just on the edge of fully culminating. He reached up briefly to rub the tip of his nose in small circles, feeling his breath catch as the tickle started to build anew. He sniffled a few more times for good measure.

“Yeah….oh-hohhh, yeah, definitely gonna…gonna sneeze..!”

“Unnnhh, Stevie!”

As Steve’s eyes started to flutter shut, he took in the sight of his boyfriend frozen right on the edge of orgasm. He was flushed all the way down to his chest, tattoos standing out in stark contrast. He was so damn pretty. Steve gasped, burying his nose in the crook of Eddie’s neck.

“Get ready, baby-! It’s coming…gonna sneeze for you...HH-HAH!!”

One more final inhale, chest expanding against Eddie’s, before the tickle crested and he was pitching forward helplessly.

“HAHH’TISSSCHHH’IEWW!! ITSCCHHHIEWW!! HH-H-HUHH!! HUHHRESSHHHOOOhh!!”

Eddie’s strangled moan was loud in his ear as he snuffled against his neck, strong arm wrapped around the older man’s slender waist, feeling him strain and shiver against him. It looked and sounded like a particularly intense orgasm for the metalhead, and Steve felt a sort of pride mingled with affection spreading through his chest. He loved making Eddie feel good. He felt his hard cock jerk in his grasp, painting his fingers and both of their lower stomachs in hot stripes of cum.

Steve was almost asleep as his boyfriend came down from his high, mumbling and giggling as endorphins rushed through his system.

“Ohh, Steve, holy fuck!”

“Mmf.” Steve snuggled closer to Eddie, nestling up to him with the intention to pass the fuck out.

“Stevie. Steve. Not yet, honey. We need to clean up. And put some clothes on before Wayne gets here.”

Steve stubbornly did not budge, even as Eddie’s captured cock softened in his limp grasp.

“Noooo. They won’t be here for hours, anyway…” He nestled further into Eddie, then moaned in displeasure as his boyfriend wriggled free.

“Nuh-uh. Up, now. I don’t trust you to wake up in time. Not after that nut, and with that fever.”

“Ungggg……okay……”

Eddie helped Steve sit up, both of them swooning at the effort. Now that their orgasms had cleared their heads, the discomfort of their sickness was starting to filter through the afterglow. Eddie wiped Steve’s hand clean with a fresh tissue.

“Let’s jump in the shower – just for a couple of minutes, dude, stop whining! We smell like sick people and cum.”

Steve nodded. Eddie may be blunt, but he was right. He squeezed his hand in his own.

“Okay. I really, really love you, by the way. Let’s not fight over stupid shit anymore. Please?”

Eddie kissed him softly before wrapping his arms around Steve’s muscular shoulders.

“Yeah. No more fighting. Love you so much.”

They held each other for a couple more minutes before stumbling to their feet, shaky on their legs en route to the small bathroom and finding it hilarious. Their weekend might not have gone even remotely as planned, but neither of them regretted it, knowing they’d look back on it all one day and remember only the love they felt for each other as the tepid shower water sluiced over their feverish skin.

[moonstruckbucky]

The Recruit (8/?)

Summary: Becoming a SHIELD agent had been your dream and finally, you’ve achieved it. You’re at the top of your class in every field except one—hand to hand combat, and it doesn’t impress Captain Rogers in the slightest. Instead, it seems to convince him you’re useless, setting off a tense relationship between the two of you. In an effort to bridge the gap, Bucky offers to help you train to earn your way back into Steve’s good graces. What could possibly go wrong?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!Reader x Bucky Barnes (not Stucky)

Warnings for Chapter: Angst, pouty Steve. More soft Bucky. That’s it, that’s the warning. 

Notes: Thank you all for the feedback of the previous chapter and for your patience while real life took over for a bit. Someone mentioned that they felt like Bucky/their relationship wasn’t featured enough, so I hope this chapter fulfills that for you! x

Also, a giant thank you to @marauderskeeper​ for this beautiful artwork!!! I’m so fucking in love with this! How perfect is this artwork, y’all?!

Steve finds patterns in the ceiling, shapes. It’s near-silent in the room save the sound of peepers through the open window, the soft breathing beside him. The weight against his chest shifts, sighs, rolls over, and he swallows thickly. Traces the lines of her body even though they’re all wrong, catches the scent of her hair - the wrong color.

He isn’t a stranger to the modern concepts of love and relationships, but it’s an indulgence he doesn’t frequently partake in. The women he meets are great, just none seem to strike that chord in him. None that seem to challenge him or intrigue quite like you.

The woman leaves with a friendly smile, an easy exit with no lingering questions of another night together or anything. He remains in bed for a little while longer, hands tucked up behind his head as he connects constellations in the ceiling. Training begins in thirty minutes, and he inhales deeply to quell the raging in his belly. He’s nervous; it’s the first he’ll see you after his apology.

He’d heard about your successful mission and he’s proud, almost excited for you, even though he knows he has no right. His treatment of you only serves to prove he’s failed as Captain; he’s meant to lead and guide and encourage. Instead, he judged and ridiculed and humiliated, drove you to the point of persevering to prove him wrong.

And you did. He’s embarrassed, ashamed - but proud all the same.

He dresses slowly in the SHIELD-issued black tac pants and navy t-shirt, the SHIELD logo emblazoned on the breast. Someone like Nat or Bucky or even Sam might accuse him of stalling as he carefully and meticulously laces his sneakers, but to anyone else he’d appear sluggish. To anyone else, he’d say he’s tired, that he’d had a late night, but if it were any of the aforementioned three, he’d pointedly keep his mouth shut.

He’s nervous - he’s man enough to admit it. He’s unsure of what to expect, unsure if he’d imagined his apology and your reluctance to believe him. He hates not being sure, not being confident, hates being thrown off his axis, out of balance. Structure, routine, and control is weaved into his DNA, and by apologizing, he’s given up that control, given a piece of him away for someone to do with as she pleases.

He hates it, loathes the way it makes his movements slower, stiffer, like he slept on a bad mattress all night instead of his cushy pillow-top next to a warm body. A warm body he really had no business bringing back here last night, but he brushes that thought away.

He takes a little longer than usual brushing and inspecting his teeth, snarling into the mirror and using floss of all things until he looks at the time and knows he can’t put this off any longer. Schooling his features into impassive steel, Steve sweeps from his room. The ride in the elevator down to the training room is spent building up a wall in his mind, a wall away from her - from you.

You’re already there when he enters, along with Bucky and a few other recruits. You’re smiling, teasing Bucky, and it puts lead in his chest. Absolutely scorches when you notice him and your smile promptly drops. He feels his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows heavily, and the burn in his chest lessons only a little when you offer him a respectful nod.

He returns it, catches Bucky’s eye and his friend gives him a reassuring smile. Steve’s not sure it helps. Mentally shaking it off, he begins the session, starts them off with running laps while he and Bucky spectate.

Steve can’t help but watch you; you’ve got near-perfect running form and you seem unbothered by your knee. You keep pace with everyone, even set it once or twice, and his scrutiny of you means he catches every little side-glance you give his best friend. The little curl at the corners of your lips, a darting glance away.

He catches the same expression on Bucky’s face - and he knows. How could he not know? The way he’d intervened when Steve was being unreasonably harsh, the easy, gentle teasing between you just now, the ever-present smile on Bucky’s face whenever he looks at his phone, the secret glances now as you increase the pace and pull ahead.

As Steve moves the group on to sparring sessions, the looks between you and Bucky become less sneaking and more appraising, and Steve has to dig hard beneath to find any joy that his friend has found his own happiness. Steve knows Bucky deserves it, after all he’s been through and yet.

The obvious connection between the two of you makes his chest hurt and jaw clench so tight it aches. When Bucky calls on you to demonstrate with him, Steve has to hide his curled fists in the pockets of his sweats.

His mind is muddled; he has no reason to be this angry - jealous, surely - but angry? No. Aggravated enough he wants to knock Bucky’s teeth out, sick enough at the sight of the two of you, moving in such synchrony, that he almost looks for the closest trash barrel.

Instead, he pushes the recruits hard, calls out tips to avoid making his previous mistake again, and offers assistance where it’s needed. An adjusted position here, a tip about roundhouse kicks there. He can almost ignore you and Bucky grunting and shouting only feet away.

You, meanwhile, are almost hyper-aware of Steve and the one-eighty he’s seemed to have made. He’s keeping his distance, though you don’t miss the pinched expression to his face or the underhanded glances he shoots you. Probably anticipating a snarky reply or otherwise prove you aren’t trying to remain civil.

He’s made his way over as Bucky pulls you into a headlock, the position warming something deep within you. His arm is loose enough around your neck that he isn’t cutting off any air, but his pelvis is flush with your backside and you even think he’s grinding it - imperceptibly enough that it goes unnoticed by the others. He’s fresh, you’re learning, pushing boundaries wherever he can.

Normally, you’d play along, dig and push a little back, but not with Steve watching the way he is. Arms crossed, feet hip-width apart in his typical Captain stance, but he’s far less rigid than he was. You execute S.I.N.G. (solar plexus, instep, nose, groin) with anxious butterflies, but you manage to successfully complete the move, spin, and move to jab Bucky again. 

Steve’s voice is even gentle when he tells you, “Move your feet. Don’t lock up or remain stationary.”

It’s such a far cry from his previous gruff behavior that it throws you, knocks you slightly off-kilter so that you stumble into Bucky’s chest. With heat in your cheeks, you push away from him, try to resume as if you didn’t fumble at all. You’re meant to be the picture of indifference and yet Steve’s one-eighty has you completely floored.

Should you be, though? He did promise you he’d be better, and so far he’s kept that promise. Perhaps a part of you hadn’t believed him, hadn’t had any reason to believe him - about anything. The fact that he’s trying stirs something in you, and it leaves you open to wind up face-down on the mat.

“Shit,” you grunt as the wind rushes from your lungs.

“That’s what happens when you get distracted,” Bucky teases before reaching with his metal hand to help you to your feet. “Your enemy won’t hesitate to exploit that opening if you give it to them.”

“Yeah,” you agree on a sigh, “yeah. Let’s do it again.”

The warmth in your cheeks doesn’t cool as you run through your spar again. This time, you manage to block out Steve’s close scrutiny and get Bucky on his back, a knee pressed into his chest. You know he can toss you off without a hitch but he lays there, lets you have the win.

“Better,” Steve compliments with an approving nod. You can’t bring yourself to meet his eyes, so you stare at his chest - which, to your shocking admission, isn’t all that much better. The intrusive thought forces you to duck your head, busy yourself with your water bottle as Bucky and Steve begin a rundown of the next exercise.

If either notice you take a little longer to collect yourself, they don’t say anything. After a few more moments of distracting yourself with your water bottle, you return to the group as the Captain and Bucky begin a mock-mission to sharpen your skills.

By the time you’re released from training, you’re covered in a layer of sweat that shimmers under the overhead lights, your mind is tapped, and your entire body feels like it went a round or five against Mike Tyson - super soldiers in your case, but they’d pulled their punches. The muscles in your back pull taut as you stretch, a tightness that makes you wince, expel a tiny whimper.

A gasp as a set of hands lands on your back - one warm, the other just slightly cooler - and the thumbs dig in, find the tightest muscles and press.

“Fuck,” you hiss, arching against Bucky’s skilled hands. A pained smile over your shoulder and, “Hi.”

“Hi.” He grins and leans forward to drop a kiss to your temple. “You did good today.”

“Feels like I went ten rounds with an MMA fighter, but thank you.” Another hmph as Bucky digs his knuckles into your lower back, and a sigh as the tightened muscles release. You slouch against him, disregarding the slight dampness to his compression t-shirt, and turn your face into his neck.

“Feel better?” he asks, throat vibrating against your forehead. Wordlessly, you nod.

“Until tomorrow when it really sets in. You’ll have to carry me everywhere,” you retort cheekily, tilting your face to meet his glimmering eyes.

“Oh, will I?” A teasing upturn of his lips and your eyes dart to them, hold there for a moment as your heart trips over itself in your chest.

“Uh huh.” A pause, then you shrug. “Or you can just stay in bed with me.”

The darkening of his eyes is offset sharply by the awkward look that suddenly shadows his face, cheeks going rouge as he quickly averts his eyes. It’s an odd reaction, and you tilt your head, mouth popping open before he overrides you.

“Whatever you want, doll,” he assures with a smile, all traces of bashfulness gone.

It’s a bit disconcerting how quickly his charming, easy-going demeanor is back in place, but you chalk it up to his former status as an assassin. Give nothing away, a mask he can flip off and on. He further pulls your mind away by lifting your hand to his lips and dotting small kisses across your knuckles.

“C’mon. Should take an ice bath for those muscles.” And he tugs you down the hallway.

“Mother of fucking SHIT.”

Bucky chortles, applies pressure to your shoulders to keep you from popping out of the bathtub he’s filled with ice and water. There’s a burn in your limbs from the cold, and your nails scrape at the ceramic of the tub, squeaking in the small space. Breath rushing in and out as you try to relax, loosen your sore, tightened muscles to let the coldness do its job.

But it’s hard, your mind whines, and your verbalize said whine pathetically.

“It’s so cold.” It’s a whisper, because speaking any louder is downright impossible as your brain works overtime to warm your body.

“I was frozen in ice off and on for seventy years,” he reminds you teasingly, “you can handle it.”

You hiss a laugh, and it makes his mouth twitch. He recalls the first time he ever made a joke about his history with HYDRA. Steve nearly shit a brick before chiding him about how he shouldn’t joke about such things.

“Steve, it happened to me,” he’d reminded, “I should be able to joke about it all I want. Better than going into total shutdown every time HYDRA is mentioned.”

Steve hadn’t said anything after that, but each time Bucky made a jab at HYDRA, he didn’t miss the disapproving gleam in his friend’s eye.

He feels relief that you laugh, feels, well, normal, and like he’s made progress if he feels he can confidently joke about his trauma. He knows he’s made progress, but there are still instances where he feels the others aren’t so sure.

With you, though, he doesn’t have to second-guess it. You don’t treat him like glass, like he’s going to shatter at the first sign of distress. It’s refreshing from the overbearing manner with which Steve treats him on most occasions. He’s thankful you hadn’t known the Bucky from before, the one Steve grew up with, the ghost of a time that’ll never come again. You’ve nothing to compare him to, nothing to miss like Steve does. It’s as refreshing as ice cream on a hot day...or an ice bath following a rigorous workout.

“C-Can I g-ge-get out yet?” Your teeth are chattering, arms crossed tightly over your chest and rubbing at your arms, riddled with gooseflesh. Your lips are even turning slightly blue as they wobble with the cold. 

“Can you feel your muscles?” he asks, reaching for the towel he’d placed on the toilet seat.

“I ca-can’t f-f-feel my lips, never m-mind my mus-muscles.” The snark is lost amongst the clicking of your teeth, but it gleams heavy in your eyes. Smirking, Bucky holds out the towel and helps you stand on shaky legs, like Bambi on ice.

Leggings and sports bra plastered like a second skin, they in no way help to warm you even out of the ice, and after you’re wrapped in the towel, Bucky gives you your privacy to strip down and get changed. Movements unsteady, your wet clothes are plopped into a pile on the tile floor and new, warm, dry clothes are hastily thrown on. Despite the rigorous workout this morning, you feel freshly invigorated, like maybe you could run a mile - once feeling comes back to your legs, that is.

Burrowed in the new clothes, you step out of the bathroom to see Bucky reclined on your bed, looking quite at home. It puts a warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest as you approach, and it only grows when he opens his arms for you to burrow into the heat of him. His arms wind around you, the metal one a comforting weight against your back.

It’s silent for a little while, a peaceful blanket pulled over the two of you in the small space of your room. Bucky’s chest rises and falls gently beneath your cheek, slow breaths, and you almost think he’s asleep until he speaks.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?”

You ponder for a couple beats. “What’s your favorite part of the 21st century? I mean, you were frozen off and on for so long, you didn’t really get a chance to enjoy anything right?”

He hears the trepidation in your voice, the slight intonation that you might actually be crossing a line by asking. He smiles, chuckles a little so you know you haven’t offended him.

“Is it predictable to say the food?” At your head shake, he goes on, “I mean, in the 30s and 40s, we barely had nothin’. Sometimes we’d all go to bed hungry with no dinner, and sometimes I gave my sisters my portion of food. I was the oldest, you know? Had to take care of my family. But now...now there’s just, so much. And so many different kinds! You know, when I first came to the compound, after Shuri fixed my noggin, I didn’t eat a lot. Ate only what I thought I was allowed to eat. One small serving.  Was still going to bed hungry even when all this food was at my disposal.

Then Steve came to talk to me. Told me he was the same way, when he first came out of the ice. Said he had to take it slow because even though he was bigger, his body wasn’t used to eating so much. Neither was mine, even though I was healthier when I... before. HYDRA didn’t feed me, not really. No hot, home-cooked meal for the Fist. It was MREs, or a feeding tube - if I was awake long enough at the base. My system got used to it, and then when HYDRA fell, it was always...Ramen or canned meat, some fruit, if I could afford it. Nothing real substantial. Even in Wakanda, I was still only eating small portions. My first three-course meal here, I puked it all up. I was so astounded by the fact that I could eat as much as I wanted to, but my body wasn’t ready for it. It was used to rationing itself on small meals, used to fasting sometimes, too. But it got better. I ate a little more at each meal, got my body used to eating three times a day. Started working out more, too, to up my hunger. Eventually I could put away three servings at each meal and still have room for dessert. I’ve got a wicked sweet tooth.”

The last line is so unexpected, it makes you snort, choke on the breath, before you can laugh for real. It’s short, though, when you take in the entirety of his story and realize there’s so much you still have to learn about one James Barnes, so much of himself to reveal, so many layers to peel back so you can see who he truly is. A little skip in your heartbeat betrays your excitement to find out, if he’ll let you.

"I’ve got a list,” he then says, “of things people have recommended I try. Maybe you can help me cross some of them off, huh?”

“Bucky Barnes, are you officially asking me on a date?” you tease, leaning your head back to aim a cheeky smirk his way. 

His chest rumbles against with that warm chuckle that warms you to your bones. “Suppose I am. You gonna leave a guy hangin’?”

“Hm, I suppose then I could assist you with this foodie bucket list. We’ll make a cultured man out of you yet.”

[shrinkyclinksfest]

That's a wrap!

Thank you all so much for another successful run of Shrinkyclinks Fest! Altogether the works add up to 150K words of new Shrinkyclinks content and six new artworks! We want to thank all our wonderful writers, artists, promoters, promoters, readers, and supporters. We will see you all next year!

Without further ado, the Masterlist:

Title: Nazi Punks Fuck Off [Shrinkyclinks AU] Creator: bleedxblack Medium (fic, art, podfic, etc.): digital art Rating: G Prompt #: 22 Warnings: N/A Summary: Local punk Steve Rogers goes to see his hardcore vocalist boyfriend, Bucky, perform with his band, Widow. Friend and guitarist Natasha took the first photo of them after the band had finished their set. Steve took the following photo himself while he watched his friends and lover play on stage.

Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33271081

Title: Steve has hot guy problems Creator: HeyBoy Medium (fic, art, podfic, etc.): digital art Rating: T Prompt #: 33 Warnings: N/A Summary: For the ShrinkyClinks Fest prompt: Meet-cute at the gym! Smol Steve is determined to work on his cardio and fitness. He reluctantly goes to the gym, feeling intimidated but ready to spit fire at anyone who so much as looks at him twice. He is going to get a good workout, damnit. Ignore the clunkheads. Ignore the gym rats. Ignore the super hot guy with long hair and stormy eyes who always seems to be using the equipment near Steve. That wasn't so bad! Now we can shower and go home. Wait, hot guy is also in the shower and… he's singing. WAIT hot guy just exited the shower and now he knows that I know he was singing!.

Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33271468

Title: asthma attacks, fire escapes, and chai Creator: beemotionpicture Medium: fic Rating: gen Wordcount: 6,657 Prompt #: 9 Warnings: none Summary: It happens because of his asthma of all things.

As soon as he feels short of breath he starts rooting through his messenger bag for his inhaler. Steve has a moment to think aha!and then fuck,before he’s losing his grip on the thing and it’s skidding across the pavement and into an alleyway.

He freezes when he realizes he’s not alone.

Steve hears a muffled sound coming from behind the dumpster, but that’s not what makes him look; no, it’s the metallic scent in the air which, with a creeping feeling of dread, he hopes isn’t blood. He looks. It’s blood.

And there’s a man sitting right in a puddle of it, leaning heavily against the brick wall and clutching his side with a metal hand.

How Steve finds an injured Bucky, nurses him back to health, and takes down a HYDRA agent while he’s at it. Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33272239

Title: Highway Ghost Creator: Neonbat  Fic Rating: E Wordcount : 15820 Prompt #: 31 Warnings: Usual WS Bucky warnings Summary: Steve hated long drives, it was too easy to zone out, especially when you’re full of cook-out food and good times. Having someone fall out of nowhere right in front of his car wasn’t exactly something he’d ever consider a possibility. He had enough excitement already from his job as an ER Nurse. Except, where most people would have been laid out on the asphalt, the man dressed in black got up without a scratch and insisted medical care wasn’t needed. The fuck was his life?  Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33283738

Title: He "Accidently" Picked A Hot Roommate Creator: rufferto Medium: digital art Rating: G Prompt #: 48 Warnings: N/A Summary: Steve needs a roommate. He thinks he will never find one but then he meets Winter Soldier Bucky who needs a place to stay while he recovers. Steve offers him the room immediately and it turns out Bucky is a great roommate. Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33279370

Title: special delivery Creator: @glim / glim Medium: fic Rating: Teen + Wordcount: ~6,000 words Prompt #: 30 Warnings: n/a Summary: Written for shrinkyclinksfest, Prompt #30: Steve Rogers has always been prone to sickness, but summer colds are the absolute worst. What he wants is a huge bowl of chicken noodle soup and some ice cream. What he gets is a food delivery guy who’s so built and hot Steve chokes on his tongue. That’s why he keeps ordering long after he’s recovered and how he finally gets Bucky Barnes into his apartment and his bed. Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33343828

Title: When the Pool Closes Creator: buckybarnesdeservestobehappy  Fic Rating: T Wordcount : 1858 Prompt #: 36 Warnings: N/A Summary: Steve just wants to enjoy a day out in the sun by himself. That’s not too much to ask. Except it is, apparently. With such fair skin, sunscreen is a must, and there’s no way he can reach his entire back. He’s just going to have to find someone to help him apply it, and if the guy is ripped… Well, it’s not Steve’s fault that he’s got good taste. Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33341596

Title: To the Future and the Past Creator: buckybarnesdeservestobehappy  Fic Rating: T Wordcount : 1465 Prompt #: 40 Warnings: Major character death Summary: Maybe a funeral isn’t the right time to admit to a gay love story, but Bucky doesn’t care. That’s what Steve wanted, and Bucky’s never been able to say no to the love of his life. Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33358726

Title: A Shot Across The Bow Creator: Author: Becassine Artist: Call_me_kayyyyy  Art Rating: G Fic Rating: E Wordcount : 18382 Prompt #: 52 Warnings: Blood/Injury, Implied/Reference Abuse, Reference Slave Trade Summary: Bucky Barnes is a Pirate Captain, and one accustomed to getting his own way. When fate drops Steve Rogers in his path one lonely evening in Tortuga, his life is forever turned upside down. Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33265450/chapters/82597747

Title: Sometime, anytime, sugar me sweet Creator: Girl_Back_There Medium: Fic Rating: Mature Wordcount: 6214 Prompt #: 45 Warnings: Some Homophobic Language, Instances of Sexual Harassment against women Summary:Bucky doesn’t know how his mother managed to Jedi mind trick him into dropping off Becca at summer camp this year, but she somehow did it. Despite his grumpiness at the unreasonable hour in which he was wrenched from his nice and cozy bed, Bucky is glad for this time with his little sister. Becca spends their time talking about the activities she got to do last summer that she hopes will be back again this year, all of which was organized by Steve Rogers. After she came home from Camp Marvel last year, all Becca could talk about was Steve Rogers, one of the counselors for her team, The Howlies. Steve Rogers was an amazing artist. Steve Rogers participates in all of the competitions despite his asthma, scoliosis, heart arrhythmia, and various other medical issues. Steve Rogers totally drinks his respect women juice. Bucky would be worried about his sister may be developing a crush on this Steve guy, but after meeting him, Bucky is more preoccupied with the crush he's developing on Steve. So preoccupied in fact, he ends up signing on to be a camp counselor for the summer. Link to work:https://archiveofourown.org/works/33339220

Title:  The Way To A Man’s Heart Creator: Author: HaniTrash Artist: Kocuria_visuals  Art Rating: T Fic Rating: E Wordcount : 11852 Prompt #: 53 Warnings: N/A Summary: Steve Rogers, skinny Brooklynite, is a college student who makes old recipes and posts videos of them on tiktok. When Bucky Barnes, Winter Soldier and Avenger, sees one, he's instantly hooked and becomes Steve's biggest fan. What follows next is a story of food, flirting, and a very unlikely pairing. But much like Steve’s unusual recipes, what shouldn’t work often does… Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33312223/chapters/82722664#workskin

Title: Maybe A Muse Creator: buckybarnesdeservestobehappy Medium (fic, art, podfic, etc.): fic Rating: M Wordcount: 2871 Prompt #: 28 Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Summary:  When Bucky Barnes needs extra money, he’s appalled that his best friends think he should become a model for the art department on campus. Shy, nerdy, and socially awkward, he’s not sure that’s something he feels comfortable doing. Still, he needs money, and he likes the idea of becoming someone’s muse. The problem is he had no idea two things would happen. First, one of the students in the class is exactly his type; second, he has to model nude. Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33393928

Title: Be My Breath Creator: Goosenik and clarkestetler Medium: Fic Rating: Teen and Up Wordcount: 44,575 Prompt #: 48 Warnings: N/A Summary: For the Shrinkyclinks Fest 2021 prompt: Steve needs a roommate. He thinks he will never find one but then he meets Winter Soldier Bucky who needs a place to stay while he recovers. Steve offers him the room immediately and it turns out Bucky is a great roommate.

Basically: Bucky moves in with Steve after he escapes from Hydra, and Steve begins the long process of helping Bucky remember how to be human again. Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33275848/chapters/82626394

Title: Tap-Tap Into Your Heart Creator: huntress79​ Medium: Fic Rating: T Wordcount: 5k Prompt #: 6 Warnings: none, except for one blink-and-you’ll-miss-it mention of animal death  Summary: When HYDRA finally fell, the Soldier was lost, in more than one meaning. And for the next several months, he, more or less, drifted from one former safehouse to the other, always avoiding to stay too long in one place. Until he comes to Brooklyn - and finds a new purpose, again in more than one meaning… Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33416524

Title: I'd be selfish but never with you Creator: Lacunalady on Ao3 Medium: Fic Rating: E Wordcount: 20k Prompt #: 32 Warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: Prompted with: "Arranged marriage AU. Steve is a prince and Bucky is a newly crowned king of the neighboring country having conquered/overtaken the last ruler. In order to keep the peace between their countries, Steve's father decides for them to wed. Steve is reluctant for several reasons but mainly because he wants to marry for love and the fact that Bucky has a reputation for being exceedingly ruthless in battle (aka the winter solider)" by Bangyababy on Tumblr! Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33424936

Title: Just Peachy Creator: Erosanderis Fic Rating: N/A Wordcount : 1266 Prompt #: 34 Warnings: N/A Summary: Steve Rogers was not looking forward to meeting his soulmate. Ever since the day he was born, he had the worst possible words on his forearm. So of course he would meet them at work. Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33412060

Title: Knocking Boots with Sugar Creator: buckybarnesdeservestobehappy  Fic Rating: E Wordcount : 4095 Prompt #: 29 Warnings: N/A Summary: In between summers at college, Steve Rogers wants a new adventure beyond his lonely life in Brooklyn. He ends up in West Texas working on a dude ranch where Bucky Barnes is a long-time employee. When Bucky offers to buy Steve a drink, they end up drunk on tequila and making out in public. For the rest of the summer, they're inseparable. As the summer draws to a close, Steve realizes he doesn't want to leave. Link to work: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33499603

[goddessofmischief]

Masterlist

Series

Blue Monday - Loki Laufeyson x Reader (Series)

Blue Monday: the Playlist

Blue Monday: Aesthetic

Chapter One: Welcome to the T.V.A.

Chapter Two: Advanced Time Travel Theory

Chapter Three: First Times Are Everything

Chapter Four: Ladies and Gentlemen

Chapter Five: Deux Chaotique

Chapter Six: Blood and Blade

Chapter Seven: Sunset and Sunrise

Chapter Eight: Jaws

Chapter Nine: D.B. Cooper

Chapter Ten: 

Chapter Eleven: Asgard

Steve Harrington x Henderson! Reader (Series)

(This is an ongoing storyline. I’ve got thousands of drafts on this and I’ll be filling in the blanks of the series as I go.)

Driver’s Ed

Maybe // Steve doesn’t think he's good enough for you.

Prom Queen // Steve’s jealous at prom.

Ask Me Anything // You and Steve think you know everything about each other.

Grown-Ups // Steve worries about you leaving for college.

Homecoming // You come home to Hawkins, and home to Steve.

All and Then Most of You - Peter Maximoff x Reader (+Alex Summers Love Triangle)

Alex Summers x Reader Playlist

Origin Story // Reader joins the X-Men and meets Alex Summers.

Detention // Peter causes Reader to get detention.

Detention, Part 2 // Peter admits his feelings to Reader.

Noah, Part 1

Noah, Part 2

Noah, Part 3

Noah, Part 4

Noah, Part 5

Noah, Part 6

Sorry // Reader admits to Xavier who Noah’s father is.

And I Didn’t Like the Ending - the Mandalorian x Reader (Series)

Jedi Scum

I Love You

Just Tired

Excuse Me?

Because I Love You

And I Didn’t Like the Ending, Part 1

And I Didn’t Like the Ending, Part 2

One-Shots

the Mandalorian/Din Djarin (the Mandalorian)

Cya’rika

Sabacc

Brown Eyes

Wounded

Goodbyes

Sirius Black (Harry Potter)

Afternoons in the Common Room

Advice

Boyfriend

He Loves You

Sirius Black Dating a Shy Hufflepuff Reader Would Include...

Daylight

Being Sirius Black’s Wife/Girlfriend Would Include...

Back to Black

Bo-Katan (the Mandalorian)

Off My Shoulders

Partners

Partners, Part 2

Hold On

Robin Buckley (Stranger Things)

Always Something There to Remind Me

Good Morning

Runaways

Loki Laufeyson (Marvel)

Memory // Loki helps Witch!Reader uncover a memory.

Lovely // Loki and Witch!Reader brew a potion.

Natasha Romanoff (Marvel)

Stay // Natasha surprises you.

Bucky Barnes (Marvel)

Team Up

Team Up, Part 2

Wanda Maximoff (Marvel)

I Don’t Want to Be Your Friend // Wanda confesses her feelings for you.

Meet the Parents // You take Wanda home for dinner with your parents.

My Superhero Girlfriend // Wanda fights for you during the battle against Thanos.

Witches of Westview // During ‘WandaVision’, you and Wanda hold a disastrous barbecue.

Catch Your Death // During ‘WandaVision’, Wanda cheers you up when you get sick.

Pietro/Peter Maximoff (Marvel)

Didn’t See That Coming // You and Pietro train.

There Was Only One Bed

I Win // You and Peter spar.

Tee Shirt // You and Pietro wake up together.

Whenever You’re Ready // Peter comes out as bisexual.

Home // During ‘WandaVision’, you see Pietro again.

Home, Part 2

Home, Part 3

the Maximoffs // During ‘WandaVision’, you and Pietro find yourselves living an idyllic sitcom life.

Agatha Harkness (Marvel)

Insult to Injury

Hey Hon

Fair Weather

My Best Girl

My Best Girl, Part 2

Rescue Me

Kiss Me Goodbye

Who’s Guarding Hades?

Who’s Guarding Hades? Part 2

John Walker (Marvel)

Hesitate

Billie Logan (Bill and Ted Face the Music)

Weddings and Funerals // You and Billie meet at Deacon’s wedding.

Excellent

the Girl Next Door

Put Your Records On

the Louvre

Happiest Season

Stay-In Days

Janey

Bloodsuckers - Vampire AU

Huntress/Helena Bertinelli (Birds of Prey)

Fun House

Home

Benny Watts (the Queen’s Gambit)

Pretty

I Love You

the Artist

Love Letter

[sleptwithinthesun]

i found the notebook!! here's the first of two fics based off of the vibes of t/fatws series, meaning it's written for b/ucky b/arnes and s/am w/ilson. however, it seems i took some liberties while writing these and they both feature s/teve r/ogers, alive and not on the moon, as well as basically being an au that i might try to establish at some point. you'll see what i mean when you read it. 1.3K words, i apologize for the ending & hope u enjoy this :)

"You sure you're okay?"

Bucky nods, accentuating the action with a sharp sniff and a small body shake, almost like a dog drying itself off. "I'm fine."

Sam quirks an eyebrow at the claim as he walks alongside Bucky, taking in his bleary eyes and rubbed-raw nose. He's been like this since he came in to the VA today, all mild and obviously sick. Sam's not worried, per se, but...

He knows Bucky's not the best at taking care of himself. Veterans seldom are, if he's being honest. This isn't the first time Bucky's gotten sick since he and Sam started working together, and Sam knows how this goes. Bucky will deny that anything's wrong until he collapses (and Sam does not want a repeat of that) or until Steve forces him to stay home. He's much more in-tune with Bucky than Sam is, having known him longer, but it seems like he hasn't noticed Bucky's predicament yet.

He's pulled out of his thoughts by a sneeze, harsh but somehow restrained, the kind only Bucky can produce. "huh'ESH!"

"Bless," Sam says, pausing when Bucky ducks into his elbow again, sneezing once, twice, three times before he takes in a full breath. "Jeez, man, bless you."

Bucky nods his thanks, pulling out a crumpled tissue and sniffling again. He blows his nose almost silently and seriously, the guy's six foot and pretty much the same size as Steve and he somehow manages to be sick in the most unobtrusive way possible. It's impressive, really.

"How long's this been coming on?" Sam asks once they get a little further down the hall.

"Last niih... night," Bucky responds, breath hitching. He presses his thumb to his nose, lashes fluttering.

"Again?" Sam's definitely concerned at this point; Bucky's fits only come this close together during an allergy attack, which hasn't happened here since that time he and Bucky cleaned out the supply closet.

Bucky answers by stopping and pressing a light sneeze into his wrist, "h'eshh!" and holds up a finger to tell Sam he's not done yet. "hishiew! hih... eSHuh! ept'CHUH!"

"Bless you. Are you sure—"

"huh'SHuh-eSHOO-ESSHIEW! Oh, godd..." His words are muffled by the sudden congestion and wad of tissues he's pulled from his pocket. "Sorry, excuse mbe— whad are you doigg?"

"You're burning up," Sam tells him. "This was just last night?"

Bucky shrugs, scuffing the toe of his boot against the ground. It makes his look oddly sheepish, especially with how he brings his gaze down to the floor once Sam removes his hand. "Yeah."

Sam shakes his head, grabbing his phone from his pocket. "I'm going to call Steve, get you home early."

"No, dond't call—"

Steve's already one of Sam's emergency contacts, meaning that they can already hear the dial tone before Bucky's protests even start. "Why, what's going on?"

Bucky only sighs and lets his shoulders slump, warily eyeing the phone as Sam raises it to his ear.

"Hey, Steve," Sam says, breaking into a grin.

"Sam, hey. What's up? Don't tell me you set the toaster on fire again."

"No, man. Come on, you know me better than that," he teases. The toaster thing only happened one time, and it wasn't even his fault. Mostly. Partially. Okay, maybe it was his fault, but it was almost a year ago. Steve needs to let it go.

"I do. This isn't just a social call, though, is it."

Sam shakes his head, even though he knows Steve can't see it. "Unfortunately, no. I'm actually calling because Bucky isn't doing so well. I think it's just a cold, but he's running a pretty high fever, so it might be the flu."

There's the sound of Steve swearing on his end, barely audible, and then he speaks at a normal volume again. "Can you put him on?"

Sam turns back to Bucky, holding the phone out and speaking softly. "He wants to talk to you."

Bucky takes it after almost a full second's hesitation, and Sam definitely missed something. He doesn't know what exactly is going on between the two of them, but they're practically attached at the hip. Bucky would never behave like this around Steve.

"Steve?" he asks, voice less stuffy than before. He must have blown his nose while Sam was talking. Quiet as it is, Sam can see how he missed that. "Yeah, uh. I might be." There's a beat of silence, and then a soft admission. "I didn't want to bother you. Didn't want you to worry, really. You've got enough going on. 'M sorry."

Sam hopes Steve is telling Bucky he doesn't have to be sorry about getting sick. The guy has enough to feel bad about, from what Sam's heard about his past.

"Okay," Bucky says, seeming to concede to something Steve's said. "Thank you." He gives the phone back to Sam a couple seconds later. "Sorry," he tells him, pushing a strand of hair that's escaped his bun behind his ear. "He's going to be here soon."

Sam's eyes are soft with sympathy. "Not your fault, Bucky. Let's go wait in the lobby, okay?"

Bucky nods, sniffling again. He looks deflated, now that he can't hide how bad he feels anymore. They turn and start heading back down the hallway, pausing once to let Bucky sneeze again. His sneezes have never been especially loud, but they sound throat-scraping and gradually grow more desperate, leaving Sam to wonder if he'll still have a voice tomorrow.

"Bless. How long did you say it was going to take for Steve to get here?"

"About ten minutes now," Bucky says, making hesitant eye contact. "Why?"

Sam smiles softly, almost sadly. "I'm just worried about you."

They make it to the lobby with five minutes to spare, meaning Sam gets to check on Bucky. "How are you feeling?"

Bucky shrugs. "Tired, mostly. I really hope you don't catch this off me."

"Don't worry about it," Sam says, laughing. "I've been working with you long enough to be immune."

Bucky's own laugh turns into a quiet string of coughs, the sound raspy. Sam's throat aches in sympathy. "Sorry," he says again, as if Sam's going to be annoyed with him for being sick.

"Man, you've got to stop apologizing," Sam tells him, looking towards the door as it opens and Steve walks in. "Tell your boyfriend to stop acting like his being sick is a problem," he calls.

Steve smiles. "Good to see you too, Sam." His gaze slides over to Bucky and his whole demeanor changes, turning worried. "Bucky, how fast did this come on?"

"Couple hours at most," Sam replies, watching as Steve frowns. "You're going to want to get a read on that fever of his."

Steve places the back of his hand on Bucky's forehead and sucks in a breath. "Shit, Buck..." He lets Bucky lean into his touch and pulls him into his side as Sam watches, vaguely amused. "Thanks, Sam. I'm just going to get him home."

"Take care of him," Sam says playfully, ignoring the pang he feels in his heart whenever he sees the two of them together. "Take it easy, Bucky."

"Believe me, he will," Steve promises, turning to leave and blessing Bucky quietly when he shudders forward with a pair of silent sneezes.

Sam watches them depart, waiting until they disappear into Steve's car to turn away. It's not hard to see how much they love each other, even though they haven't officially said they were dating yet, and in watching them, Sam misses Riley more than he has in months.

They could have been like that, maybe. If they hadn't gone on that mission. If Riley hadn't gotten hit by the RPG. If Sam hadn't failed to save him. Fuck.

He needs a break. He goes back to work.