#st/eve ha/rrington

[hockeynoses]

Sick!Steve: A College AU, Part 2

Summary: A sequel to this fic. Steve is sick again. This time he's in class with Eddie, but they don't know each other yet. Eddie has the fetish and it's from his POV. This is set in the Spring semester, following the last fic which was in the Fall.

Warnings: Mess, contagion. 3.2k words.

Notes: I finally finished it! I started this last July and let it sit for far too long. It's one of my favorites that I've written in a while.

I imagine the professor to look like Jaime Cam/il from Schm/igadoon, but that's neither here nor there. The snippets of his lecture are directly taken from the Wikipedia entry on the Renaissance.

One tiny scene was inspired by this post by gemsden.

I hope you all enjoy! 💖

~*~

At five minutes to the hour, Eddie strolls into class as though he has all the time in the world. He’s learned from years of being punctually challenged that it’s easier to fly under the radar if you don’t appear rushed and frazzled when you make your entrance. There are only a few seats left in the large lecture hall, and they’re all up at the front. Reluctantly, he chooses one on the very end of the curved row, the seats in the hall forming a semi-circle that fan out like those ancient Greek theaters the professor had mentioned last week.

World History 101 – the most basic of basic history classes. Almost everyone here, Eddie included, is taking it as a required core class. But it isn’t the worst thing in the world; Eddie makes a game of it, searching for little tidbits he can add to his D&D games when he’s in need of inspiration.

The eye-candy isn’t half bad either. The professor, Mr. Smith, is actually pretty hot. Dark hair, a well-trimmed beard, glasses… Eddie can get on board. And halfway through his lecture, without fail, he’d take off his suit-jacket, loosen his tie, and roll up his sleeves, drawing the undivided attention of half the class. Aged to perfection, he can’t be more than in his early 40s, his hair just starting to get that salt and pepper color to it.

Unfortunately, he’s also known for being kind of a hardass. One of those guys with lots of chili peppers on RateMyProfessor, tempered by lots of comments about what a stickler he is for the rules.

The doors at the top of the hall open just as the professor is about to get started, and Eddie looks up.

Speaking of eye-candy, he thinks. It’s the guy that he’s had his eye on for half the semester. Hot-prof doesn’t hold a candle to this guy.  Steve. The name floats through his mind and his heart gives a little kick.

He hasn’t managed to talk to him yet, or even figure out how to covertly snag a seat near him. This class is pretty much just lectures and tests, no group projects – which doesn’t offer a lot of openings for an introduction. Eddie only knows his first name because he’d heard Mr. Smith use it once or twice. He may be an asshole about the rules, but he does try to learn their names. As much as one can with a class of 100+ students.

Steve hurries down the steps to the first row of seats. The only open desk is in the dead center, about 10 feet away from Mr. Smith’s podium.

“Shit,” Steve says under his breath, looking embarrassed. Eddie’s glad he’s not in his shoes. Even though he’s in the front row himself, he’s somewhat hidden off to the side. The curvature of the row gives him a great view of Steve without it being obvious he’s looking at him.

The professor greets Steve with a firm nod as Steve sits and pulls his notebook out of his backpack, settling in. Eddie sees his nose scrunch up in a sniff. Probably just from the run over here to make it on time.

“Welcome, everyone,” Mr. Smith pulls up a PowerPoint on the screen behind him, “Today’s lesson is going to cover the Renaissance, which is a period in time ranging from the 1400s to the 1600s. The Renaissance was a cultural movement that profoundly affected European intellectual life in the early modern period.”

A sound crackles through the air, and Eddie’s eyes snap back to Steve. He’s got his face buried in a tissue, eyes closed, blowing his nose for all he’s worth. Heat sparks to life low in Eddie’s belly. Oh god…is he-?

Mr. Smith shoots Steve a look over his glasses, waiting for him to finish. Steve sighs and swipes at his nose, managing to find a dry section of the ruined tissue. When he notices the professor’s gaze, he looks sheepish and whispers, “Sorry.”

Steve hides the crumpled tissue away in a pocket of his backpack and then pulls out a fresh one from – Is that a fucking car pack of Kleenex? Eddie wonders. Leave it to pretty-boy Steve to go out and buy the perfect size tissue box to fit in his backpack. Eddie would’ve just brought a roll of toilet paper.

With a nose that beautiful, he deserves the best, he can’t stop himself from thinking. Then he chastises himself for being so gone on this guy. He focuses back on his own notes, or rather, the doodle he’s already started, and tries not to be too much of a creep.

Mr. Smith drones on for several minutes, punctuated every so often by Steve’s wet sniffles. Eddie can see him rubbing the bridge of his nose out of the corner of his eye. He wonders if the whole class can hear him – auditoriums are designed to carry sound, after all – or if Eddie’s just hyper-aware.

The sniffles turn ominous, and Steve reaches for a tissue just as his breath starts to hitch. He holds it at the ready, splayed over both hands, inches from his face.

“Ha... ehh…hih…hih’AEESSHH’IUE!” The sneeze bursts from him as he snaps forward and buries his face in the waiting tissue. The sound ricochets throughout the room and lightning pulses through Eddie’s veins, white-hot. Oh fuck.

“’Scuse be,” Steve mumbles, his eyes glazed over as he snuffles up the loosened congestion.

Jesus, he’s actually really sick, Eddie thinks, his own elation at the sight at war with the pity he feels for the guy.

Mr. Smith gives a small, put-upon sigh. “Where was I? Oh yes - The unique political structures of Italy during the Late Middle Ages have led some to theorize that its unusual social climate allowed the emergence of a rare cultural efflorescence.”

Now that Eddie knows for sure that Steve is sick, it’s a struggle to keep his eyes off him. He doesn’t want to miss a moment; his gaze darts across the room without his permission, tracking every movement of those busy hands, the fluttering eyes, the flaring nostrils.

As the minutes tick by, anticipation curls warm through Eddie’s gut. Steve is holding a Kleenex in his hand, wiping his nose with it as subtly as he can, forced to breathe through his mouth due to the congestion that has taken up permanent residence deep in his sinuses.

Eddie wonders how long he’s been sick. If these are brand new symptoms or if he’s been suffering for the better part of a week. He looks contagious as hell, red nose constantly dripping into the tissue that he presses to his septum. Eddie feels for the students who were unlucky enough to sit next to him, but he would also happily take their place.

His thoughts are interrupted by a hitch in Steve’s breath, no doubt building to something more obscene and uncontrolled than the first go-round.

“Ehh… Oh god, haa-… hih-EETSSHHOO! Ha’AEESHHah!  Uhh…huh…ITTSCHHuh!” He groans, low and pained. “Oh bmy god. SNF. Sorry.” Eddie watches as Steve holds the destroyed tissue to his nose while fumbling in his bag for a fresh one. There’s no way that abused tissue contained all those haphazard sneezes. If the students next to him have to sit through an entire hour of that, they’re definitely screwed. Hell, Mr. Smith is probably screwed too, being directly in front of him, albeit several feet away.

“Are you quite finished?” Mr. Smith says primly.

“Ugh.” Steve gives a liquid sniffle and swipes under his nose with his bare hand. “I hobe so.”

Jesus Christ, Eddie is going to pop a semi in the middle of class. He slides his jacket off - it’s getting fucking hot in here anyway - and sets it over his lap.

The professor clears his throat and continues. “As I was saying, one theory is that the devastation in Florence caused by the Black Death, which hit Europe between 1348 and 1350, resulted in a shift in the world view of people in 14th century Italy.”

“Ha….HA’EHSSHHOO!” Steve’s whole body shakes with the strength of the sneeze, drenching his fistful of Kleenex. Oblivious to the teacher’s glare, Steve’s eyes flutter, his brows inching higher and higher with each sharp inhale, fighting against the prickling itch deep in his nose that’s begging for release.

“Italy was particularly badly hit by the plague,” Mr. Smith continues, pausing to direct a stern, pointed look at Steve. “And it has been speculated that the resulting familiarity with death caused thinkers to dwell more on their lives on Earth, rather than on spirituality and the afterlife.”

“Huh-ITTSSH’IEW!” The relentless barrage continues, Steve struggling helplessly against it. “uh…huh’GGKSSHH’IUE!”

Eddie stares, entranced. He can hear how wet they are, thick with mess that’s barely contained in the clump of increasingly soggy tissues Steve’s got a death grip on. Eddie gets another glimpse of Steve’s disobedient nose - pink, wet, and sore - as he pulls back from the tissues with a wobbly inhale, clearly not done. A flush darts up Eddie’s neck, his toes curling in his sneakers.

“It has also been argued that the Black Death prompted a new wave of piety, manifested in the sponsorship of religious works of art.” Mr. Smith soldiers on, agitation clear in his voice. “However, this does not fully explain why the Renaissance occurred specifically in Italy in the 14th centu-”

“Ahh…ihh…hih…HIH’EERRRSHH’IUE!” The last one tears through Steve in the middle of an attempt to grab a new batch of tissues. He curls into himself, unleashing the spraying sneeze across his lap and part of his desk. There’s a visible sheen on his cupid’s bow that he desperately swipes at with the back of his hand.

“Steve!” Mr. Smith says sharply. “I do not appreciate these interruptions!”

“I’b sigk, dude!” Steve argues, as if that isn’t obvious by the gurgling, cold-ridden noseblow that immediately follows. His features are a tired mix of annoyance and embarrassment.

“Please don’t call me dude, Steve.” Mr. Smith pins him with a flat look, clearly exasperated but unwilling to kick him out just yet. Steve glares at him.

“I’b sigk, professor – hih…ha’AESSHH’IEW!” The sneeze erupts from Steve, forceful and clearing. He puts much less effort into covering this one, holding the tissue inches away from his face and releasing a huge, spraying sneeze openly down onto it. Eddie can see the escaped stray droplets misting the air.

This motherfucker better not make me come in my pants, I swear to god, Eddie thinks as he adjusts himself, trying to find some kind of relief. He feels too hot in his own skin.

The students nearest Steve are leaning away from him in mounting horror, trapped without any open seats to flee to.

“If you’re feeling so poorly, why did you come to class today?” Mr. Smith radiates disapproval.

“Idt’s your attendance policy, bman.” Steve scrubs a finger back and forth under his raw nose. “I didn’t thigk it wa-aah…hah–Ha’ERRSHH’IUE!” The sneeze is only half-muffled against his fist, the rest scatters free into the air. “Ugh. Allowed.”

Mr. Smith’s mouth pulls into a frown. “Exceptions can be granted when there are legitimate… health reasons.” He eyes the growing pile of tissues on Steve’s desk with disgust, calculating the odds of how likely he is to catch his cold, no doubt increasing with every one of Steve’s careless, pathetic attempts at covering, with every slimy tissue added to the pile, cluttering up the desk, creating a foreboding minefield of germs.

Steve snorts up the clogged mess in his nose and clears his throat. He’s so congested that even his throat sounds thick with it. Pulling a tissue from his pack, he lays it across his cupped palms, ready, waiting.

“I didn’t thigk this would count. Idt’s just – heh – just a c-cold – Ha’GGSHT’CHUH!” His head snaps forward as he unleashes the sneeze vaguely downwards toward the tissue spread across his hands. Eddie can see the unrestrained spray of it swirling around in the several inches of open air between his agitated, rebellious nose and his hands.

He folds the splattered tissue up to release a crackling blow, so loud that Eddie thinks he must be doing it on purpose. When he’s done, Steve offers a pointed, “’Scuse mbe,” with a telling twist to his lips. Now apparently fully committed to his appearance as a plague rat, he breathes through his mouth, dabbing at his sore, chapped nose with the tattered remnants of the tissue. When he pulls it away, he has no shame – his red, glistening, contagious nose is on full display.

Oh, Eddie likes this one. A buzzy warmth fills him down to his toes, and he has to stop himself from shivering with it. His cock is rock-hard in his jeans. Has anyone ever died of blue balls? he wonders, shifting in his seat.

Rather than hiding it away in his backpack, Steve adds the sodden tissue to the pile on his desk like a challenge, trying to get a rise out of Mr. Smith. The brazen audacity of it is doing nothing to help the heat under Eddie’s skin.

“If you’re ill to the point of being a distraction in class, you should have emailed me, and I would have given my approval,” Mr. Smith says in a tense, clipped voice.

“I didn’t thigk I felt that ba-hah… bad – hih - odn the way over h-here,” he argues, quickly scrambling for a fresh tissue, “but I – huh… I cadn’t stob – ihh… s-sneeziihh… Ha-iih’ERRSSHH’IUE!” His brow furrows with the strength of it, shoulders curling in. He’s crumpled the tissue under his nose, anticipating the sheer amount of mess, which unfortunately leaves his mouth uncovered. The sneeze forces the breath from him in a violent gust that causes the used tissues on his desk to flutter and threaten to topple over the edge.

Eddie’s pulse jumps and he almost snaps his pencil in half, tapping his foot on the ground in an effort to not shake out of his skin with want. He tries not to openly stare as Steve pulls back the Kleenex from his face, having to pinch off the mess that still clings to him, wiping the spit from his lips with his other hand.

“Ugh, what a bmess.” Steve says, really playing it up. “Sorry. I’b trying to stob but they’re too strogg.”

“I can see that,” Mr. Smith grinds the words out between his teeth.

“I thigk I’b really contagious.” Steve presses the tissue to the underside of his tender, dripping nose. “I already godt all of mby roobmates sihh-sigk. Heh…Huh-HA’IIGGGHHH’SHOO! Ughhh. Trust mbe, you don’t want this…” He punctuates his warning with a truly miserable-sounding noseblow.

“I agree. We don’t need you getting the whole class sick.” Mr. Smith takes a few careful steps back, looking like he’d rather be running from the room entirely. “You can get the notes from one of your classmates.”

“Are you s-sure?” His nostrils flair and he cups a hand several inches from his face in a sluggish attempt to cover another impending outburst. “ihh – hih’iiiiGGHH’shue!” It scrapes from his throat, the last syllable drawn out into a pained exhale.

“Yes, I’m sure,” Mr. Smith says. Having reached the end of his rope, he points to the door. “Go. Before you infect us all with your pestilence.”

Satisfied, Steve gathers his things, touching them all with his germy hands in the process. The used tissues are scooped up and crammed into an open pocket in his backpack. The car-pack of tissues stays out. Clinging to it like a lifeline, Steve pulls two fresh ones from the cylinder.

“Thaggs, professor.” He quickly bunches the tissues to his face, his chest heaving with every hitch of his breath. “ahh… hiiiih… Hih’AAIIGH’shoo! SNF. I’ll see you next weegk.”

With that, he turns and makes his way up the stairs, pausing every few steps to shudder with a wrenching sneeze, barely contained in his damp fistful of Kleenex. Now that he’s not even trying to control them, it seems he’s completely at their mercy, pitching forward in several small fits, trying to cover as much ground as he can between them until he finally makes it to the door. Fumbling the clump of tissues into his pocket, he pulls at the door handle, finally making his escape into the hallway as an awkward hush settles over the rest of the class.

Mr. Smith attempts a joke and tries to refocus everyone’s attention. Eddie doesn’t hear any of it. His head feels all floaty and he’s trying not to come in his pants. That was insane. He blinks, trying to shake himself out of it.

By the time he’s managed to bring himself back to reality, Mr. Smith is making a show of marking off Steve’s excused absence. “Steve Harrington,” he announces as he notes it down, enunciating clearly as if to let the entire class know who’s to blame when half of them come down with this cold from hell.

Harrington. Something clicks in Eddie’s mind at that. Chrissy’s knowing smile flashes through the haze. A months-old memory washes over him in waves – she was telling him about some guy she made friends with in class… going on and on about him. About how one time he’d shown up for class sick as a dog, and how she wished Eddie could have been there - he’s just his type. She had wanted to introduce them.

At the time, Eddie’s interest had been piqued, how could it not? But this guy sounded like a Grade-A jock, and although he trusted Chrissy, Eddie dating a jock went against practically every facet of the Munson Doctrine. He had filed it directly under “Never Gonna Happen” in his brain, and they’d both forgotten about it, buried in finals, before heading off for winter break.

Since then, Chrissy might’ve mentioned her and Steve meeting up for coffee once or twice since they didn’t have a class together this semester, but her hopes of introducing them got lost in the throes of a busy Spring semester. If Eddie had known this was Chrissy’s Steve – a bit of a jock, sure, but still sweet and smart and with sneezes straight out of Eddie’s wildest fantasies – he sure as fuck would’ve made that introduction more of a priority.

Fuck. Now Eddie has to see if there’s still a shot. If Chrissy was going to introduce them, that means there’s a slim chance Steve might be into him, right? He’s going to text her as soon as class gets out and tell her he’s seen the light.

Eddie wonders if he could give Steve his notes from class. Didn’t the professor say something about that? Yeah, he’ll get his number from Chrissy, then bring him the notes… maybe some tea…

Shit, he’s got to get ahold of himself.

For once in his life, Eddie tries to take flawless notes. He’s only partially successful. It’s almost impossible to focus with replays of Steve’s little spectacle parading through his head. And if that wasn’t distracting enough, he can’t stop himself from imagining scenes from their future together like some kind of lovesick fool. He taps his pencil to the page, daring to hope.

He’ll start with notes and some tea.

#snzblr #snz fic #snzfic #snz fics #snzfics #cw: contagion #st/eve ha/rrington

[fuckin-sick-bih]

I'm Your Rock, Baby. I won't back down.

Fandom: Stranger Things (honestly in my head I was thinking of Tattoo and Florist AU but it's kinky Eddie instead of kinky Steve this time? idk food for thought!) Summary: Steve's been sick and Eddie's been enjoying playing Caretaker. When Steve wakes up from a nap, they watch a movie together and cuddle. CW: cold sneezes, sneezing on partner's neck/shoulder, mention of nose blowing/wiping but really low mess fic for me! Word Count: 1,259 MINORS DNI Author Note: little drabble i did just writing in the tumblr text post thing bc for some reason writing in the tumblr text box makes it easier to write rn? idk, man, don't ask me how my brain works i just live with this traitorous electric meatball

Eddie swayed his hips to the beat of the song as he hand-washed the few items they had that weren't dishwasher safe in the sink, rings sitting on the counter beside him. His phone was softly spitting out one of his current favorites and he was mumbling along, trying to keep quiet so Steve could rest.

Poor Steve had been down for the count the last few days with a nasty cold that had left him utterly exhausted. He scrubbed at the pan he'd made breakfast this morning in as he mulled over the last few days of meds, tissues, sleeping, soup, meds, and more sleeping.

Of course, Eddie was over the moon at getting to take care of Steve. Anytime he got to take care of Steve was a win in his book. His boyfriend was like a walking poster child for hyper independence and Eddie secretly blamed the Harrington parents for that.

Pulling the drain and letting the sink water gurgle down into the abyss, Eddie sighed. He paused his music only to hear sniffling from back in the bedroom. Straining his ears, Eddie swore he heard a catch of breath just before-

"HeNX'T!"

"Don't stifle!" Eddie called out instantly, though his tone was fond as he dried his hands.

As he headed back to the bedroom, Eddie spoke again, "You want a sinus infection? That's how you get a sinus infection." He crossed his arms and admired the sight of Steve sitting up in bed with a tissue folded over his nose.

There was a light blush over Steve's face, skin still lightly tanned from summer. "Sorry. Habit. Snf! What were you doing out there? I thought you fell asleep with me?"

The quiet softness as well as how his voice seemed to grate against his throat, making Steve wince a little had Eddie moving over to the bed to sit with him. "Aw, I'm sorry. I woke up and started cleaning up a little is all. Thought I'd let you sleep as long as you could. Seemed like you needed it. How you feeling now, handsome?"

One of Eddie's hands was coming up to brush Steve's bangs back up out of his face, carding lovingly through his hair as well as pressing to his forehead. "Better than I was, honestly, but I th-hih-! ohh no... heh-ih!"

It was like Eddie's whole world was slowing down as he watched and felt Steve's expression crumple into a pre-sneeze show. His brows rose then collapsed into a pleading sort of pinch while his nostrils flared, mouth hovering open.

"E-ehhddieh-! EhX'TSHH! ID'SHuh! Hh...! ugh d'noh..." Steve collapsed forward, head jerking downward to sneeze towards their laps as his face flushed with color. He was scrambling for a tissue, but Eddie was already plucking and handing him several.

"Bless you, sweetheart, jeez." Eddie leaned forward to kiss Steve's forehead and then the top of his head. "You sure you're feeling better?" He teased, trying not to squirm as Steve blew his nose into the wad of tissues.

A little sniffle came from Steve as he finally pulled the tissues away from his face. "Uh-huh. Just think it's moved to my head. I'm all-" He gestured vaguely to his face and head with a pointed finger and sniffled again. "What's that word you use?"

Eddie made a strangled little sound and rested a hand on Steve's knee. "Stuffy?" He suggested helpfully, praying his boyfriend was searching for a more vanilla term.

"Sure. That." Steve replied with an amused little grin and Eddie knew right then and there that Steve was feeling better if he was getting one of those smiles.

Without warning, Eddie leaned in to press a soft kiss to Steve's lips before pulling back. "Brat." He took a moment to pretend to examine him, going so far as to thoughtfully tap his chin for dramatic effect. "You feel up to watching a movie on the couch with me?"

Steve looked amused at first, but he was quickly looking more and more distracted. "Yeah, I... I think I can manage- that..." His eyes went unfocused as he tried to respond to Eddie's question and Eddie knew pretty quickly what was going on as his eyes flicked to Steve's cherry-red, chapped nostrils that twitched and flared.

"Hiih... IXX'TShhuh!" Steve lurched forward towards their laps again with his powerful sneeze that had tears springing to his eyes. "Ugh, sorry. That might end up happening... more- heh...ihh-hh! ISSHHuh! God, sorry." 

. . .

Twenty minutes later found Steve curled up in Eddie's lap on the couch with Princess Bride playing on their television. Eddie was playing with Steve's hair as his head rested on his shoulder, legs sprawled over his lap.

They were both covered in a blanket and Steve had the box of tissues in his lap, one in his hand which he kept dabbing at his nose with. Eddie was doing his best to pay attention to the movie, but if he was being honest with himself he could quote the whole thing from start to finish just by where in the musical score they were.

So instead he doted softly on Steve who was sleepily watching the movie. Not much energy to do anything else as Eddie pressed soft kisses to his forehead, hair, eyebrows, and even the bridge of his nose once.

Though that had made Steve's eyes well with ticklish tears and his nostrils flared as his breath hitched softly, "E-Ehhddie, that's gonna... huh-! m-make me s-sneeze..."

"Oh, is it?" Eddie practically purred as he lifted a hand to gently tap the pad of his pointer finger against the side of Steve's nose. "Hadn't noticed."

"IHIshhiiew! IXt'Hue!" Steve exploded moments after the tap like that was all he needed to be set off. Eyes watering, bright red nose twitching and shining ever so slightly around the chapped rim. "Ugh, snf! you're a menace, Munson. Absolute snff! menace. Those good for you? Or should I nix the tissues and use you instead?"

A shudder ran through Eddie at Steve's words and he groaned, letting his head tip back. "That's playing dirty, Stevie, and you know it. You can't dirty talk me while you're sick and sneezy." Then came the soft feeling of plump lips traveling over his throat and the subtle brush of a damp nose tip against his Adam's apple.

Eddie would deny at all costs the noise that garnered from him.

It did get Steve to chuckle, though. "Like you tapping my nose isn't playing dirty. You made me sneeze. That- hhh... oh h-hang on... gonna- hihh..."

This time Eddie didn't get to watch Steve's build up, but he could feel it. Every stuttering inhale pressed up against him, the way his fingers curled against Eddie's shirt ever so slightly, and how Steve tucked into his shoulder with a final wavering. "Hihh-ih!" Before finally pressing his face into Eddie's neck and shoulder as he sneezed, "IHHxT'Shuh! Ohh- snf! shit, I forget what I was saying." He admitted, chuckling a little again as he pressed a tissue to his running nose.

Meanwhile, Eddie was getting his heart rate under control and running his fingertips lovingly along Steve's back up and down. "Bless you, pumpkin. Okay, I promise-" And Eddie made a little X over his heart with his free hand. "No more teasing my poor boyfriend's nose unless he asks or he's all better, deal?"

And then Steve gave him a wicked smile. One that only meant one thing. "I never said it was a bad thing, Eds."

#st/ranger th/ings #ed/die mu/nson #st/eve ha/rrington #st/eddie #snz #snz kink #snzfic #cold sneezes #cold fic #i just want cozy kinky eddie and confused and sick but supportive steve who is just sniffly and sneezy and wants nothing more than to nap #but also tease his bf some bc who doesn't love that? #the title is a hint to what song eddie is doing the dishes to if you want fun tattoo artist au eddie lore

[butyoumakemesohot]

finally... my secret santa fic! thank you endlessly to kb @softsnzstuff for putting this together, and thank you to @annieherondale (hey girl hey - i was your secret santa!) for being so patient! i hope you enjoy this!!!

pairing: platonic st/eve + ro/bin, pre-s3 word count: 1k summary: when steve shows up to work displaying all the usual symptoms of his "allergies," robin can't help but feel a little annoyed (i mean they work in a restaurant for fuck's sake)

After about a month into the world's worst summer job, Robin inadvertently develops a list in her mind - an inventory of facts and analyses about none other than Steve Harrington:

He hates his parents.

He loves his friends, all of whom inexplicably consist of children no older than fourteen.

He’s really good at stacking scoops of ice cream. His record is seven on a single cone.

He has horrible allergies.

She’d be lying if she said she didn’t find the last one kind of hilarious. Part of her has been searching for ways to chip away at his ego since high school, and while they’re technically friends now, teasing him about it is still pretty fun.

It’s noon on a rainy Tuesday in June, and Starcourt is practically desolate. Naturally, Steve rolls in a few minutes late for his shift, his dampened shoes squeaking against the tile Robin just spent half an hour cleaning. But she digresses.

“Hey there, Harrington,” she greets, not bothering to look up from the book she’s been assigned for summer reading.

“snff! Hey, Robid.”

He breezes past her so he can clock in, emerging from the back a few moments later. Robin dog ears her book, hoisting herself up onto the counter before Steve can claim it.

“Should be pretty slow today,” she notes, eyes skirting across the empty food court.

“Yeah - snrf! - the roads were pretty mbuch embpty. It’s like a fucki’d hurricade out there.”

Robin clocks another congested sniffle, her eyes narrowing as she takes in Steve’s appearance. His nose is a bright pink, his wet hair slicked back beneath his uniform hat, which is uncharacteristically askew on top of his head. He’s panting, too, out of breath from what was surely a miserable dash across the parking lot.

“What, King Steve can’t afford an umbrella?” she quips, her eyes trailing over the rest of his drenched uniform.

“Ha,” Steve deadpans, sluggishly wiping his nose against the heel of his hand. “I could’ve sword I - SNF! - had ode id mby ca'hhhr but I guess ode of the kids took it.”

“My money’s on Mike.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, mbe too… hah-! hhaHH’ESSCHH!” He whips into his cupped hands just in time, grimacing slightly at the sight of his palms. “Ugh, excuse mbe.”

He wipes pathetically at his nose again, shivering beneath the mall’s air conditioning and his cold, wet uniform. Robin can’t help but feel a bit bad for him.

“You know…” she begins slowly, a teasing lilt to her voice, “rain is known to exacerbate allergy symptoms.”

Steve rolls his eyes, reaching for a few napkins from the dispenser next to the cash register. He wipes the mess off his hands before giving a thick, gurgling blow into the thin paper, still sniffling in the aftermath.

“I dod’t have allergies,” he has the absolute gall to say.

“Uh-huh.”

“It’s just - snnf! - ‘cause I got caught id the ra'hhid - huhhh… ha’hhTCHHH! ISSSHHhiew!” Steve groans dramatically, roughly pinching away the wetness clinging to his nostrils before grabbing another handful of napkins.

Robin goes back to reading her book, sounding rather amused. “Bless you. Also, I’m pretty sure you're breaking like, seven different health code violations right now.”

“Whatever,” he brushes off. “It’s dot like - snF! - adyode’s here, ahhhdyways. snffsnrrf… heh-! hHH’ESSCHHH!”

Another violent sneeze before he’s burying the lower half of his face in the fresh bundle of napkins, blowing his nose with an unrestrained honk that Robin is almost positive the people who work at the Orange Julius on the other side of the food court can hear.

“Jesus, Harrington, could you at least try to be a little less… vocal?” she asks, cringing.

“I kndow, I kndow - snnnrf! - I soud really gross right dow.” He tosses the soiled napkins in the trash before pulling out a few more in anticipation, glancing at her apologetically. “I would’ve stayed hombe but I really deed the modey.”

“We all need money, dingus. It isn’t worth killing yourself over.”

“‘Dingus’?” he repeats, smiling slightly. “That’s a dew ode… ehh’SSCHHHIEW! God, fuck, sorry. snrrk!” Steve searches for a clean spot on the napkins to fruitlessly wipe his nose, another shiver visibly running down his spine.

Robin sighs. “Have you ever considered taking an allergy pill?”

“It’s dot allergies,” he insists, sounding a bit more perturbed this time.

As much as Robin hates to admit it, Steve may be right this time; judging by the thick stuffiness in his voice, accompanied by the deep flush in his cheeks, it may not be allergies. It may be something more.

Before she can bring it up, however, a couple that Robin vaguely recognizes from school comes in to order some ice cream. She nudges Steve in the direction of the cash register so that she can handle preparing the food, moving quickly when Steve’s incessant sniffling starts to sound more and more unpleasant. She presents the cones with a plastered-on smile, managing to slide in front of Steve right when his breath starts to hitch, blocking him from the view of the customers.

“Thanks for visiting -”

“hahh’AAESSCHH!”

“- Scoops Ahoy! Please have a -”

“ESSCHHHEW! snnxf! hh’IRRSHHH’uhh!”

“- voyagetastic day!”

One more horrendously loud sneeze from Steve makes the couple hightail it out of there, nearly forgetting to accept their ice cream in the process. Robin smirks a little as she watches them go.

“Now we really aren’t gonna have any customers,” she muses. Steve, meanwhile, seems to still be fighting for his his life.

“huh’KGGSCHH!” He sniffles thickly, his nose still buried in the now soaked bundle of napkins. “God, does it ever fuckihhh’g stop? hhhhh - hih-! ihh’SSCHHH’uh!”

He finally manages to blow his nose again, which seems to aid in quelling the itch in his sinuses, but does little to actually clear any of his congestion. He tosses the napkins in the trash when he’s done, taking in a few deep, steadying breaths through his mouth.

“Uh…” Robin says. “You good?”

“For dow, yeah. snnfg!” He pinches the bridge of his nose, which has now deepened to a nearly comical shade of red.

“Steve, I think you have -”

“Allergies?”

“Actually, no,” She smirks again, crossing her arms over her chest. “I was gonna say you might have a cold.”

“... Oh.” Steve sniffles thickly, dragging his index finger beneath his nose. “Yeah, that would mbake sedse, too’hh… hhh’ISSCHHhiew!”

Robin laughs; Steve’s eyes brighten proudly at that, even if it’s at his expense. As she ushers him back to the break room, managing to find a dry uniform for him to change into, she mentally replaces item number four in her list with the following: Steve Harrington either has allergies or a shit immune system. Either way, that makes him a huge dork.

#i haven't written in so long ahhhh #this is literally nothing special but i still hope you like it :-) #sneeze fic #sneezefic #snzfic #snzblr #st/ranger th/ings #st/eve ha/rrington

[boyfright-blog]

can y'all believe st/eve ha/rrington is going 2 threaten will's future boyfriends

#formerking #will: disappointed but not surprised #jzgsbsjshsk bye #a Tru Dad

[fuckin-sick-bih]

Tattoos and Tissues pt 3!

Fandom: Stranger Things Summary: No Upside Down. Tattoo Artist and Florist AU. Eddie goes to Steve's place to take care of his florist boyfriend who has fallen ill. CW: Mess, inducing, stuffy talk, illness, mentions of erections and adult themes/kink, Steve has the kink and Eddie likes indulging Word Count: 4.3k Author Note: I did it! I finished it! I finished a fic! Holy fuck! No one ever let me do this again... I am absolutely going to do this to myself again no questions, I just suck at pacing myself lmao. Honestly, the first draft was WAY more Adult lol But also I don't want this to be the end of this AU. I just don't wanna do another 3-part fic, I wanna do little mini fics or drabbles if ideas happen tbh. Regardless, enjoy. I am aware not all things resolve, but hey that's why it can be something cute and small and on-going, right? Eddie - bold Steve - Italics MINORS DNI

whats your address?

What? Why?

because i come baring gifts, Harrington. address, please, so i can figure out where the hell im going im so lost

413 Building D Maple Glen Apartments just off Terrace Street. I’ll buzz you in, just come up to the fourth floor, and I’ll be poking my head out.

When Eddie showed up at Building D of Maple Glen Apartments and saw he had four flights of stairs to climb, he decided he was going to strangle Steve instead of nurse him back to health. He adjusted the bags of goodies for Steve in his hands and began the climb up to the fourth floor. The top floor, of course. 

As he reached the top and exited the stairwell, he spotted Steve poking his head into the hallway as promised. Sure, Eddie was panting, but Steve looked wrecked. There were dark circles under his eyes, his nose was bright cherry red at the tip and rims, and the rest of his face was pale. 

“Jesus H. Christ, you weren’t kidding… You really are sick, huh?” Eddie said in a soft, somewhat concerned tone as he approached Steve.

The other’s pale cheeks seemed to flush up a dark shade of red at Eddie’s words. “What id the world are you doi’g here, Eddie?” Steve asked in a congested and raspy voice that made Eddie wince in sympathy for his throat. 

Instantly, Eddie went digging in his bags for the bag of cough drops. “Please suck on one of those, Harrington. Talking sounds like it hurts. And they’ve got menthol-y stuff in ‘em. It’ll help your nose, c’mon lemme in.” He shoulders his way into Steve’s apartment before the other can stop him. 

“Eddie!” Steve rasped out before turning away from the other to cough harshly into his arm. “You dod’t wadt to be id here, you’ll get s-siiih… IXXGH’T! Sick.” There had been just enough time for Steve’s hand to shoot up and pinch his nose to stifle what sounded like a powerful and still just barely restrained sneeze. It made Eddie wince to think how it must have hurt his ears. 

There was a scoff from the curly-haired tattoo artist, who was already unpacking his bag of goodies on the nearby countertop. At the same time, Steve shut the door, not protesting anymore. “Bless you and puhhh-lease. I don’t get sick, Steve. Munson Constitution. Allergies? Yes. Sick? No. I can’t even remember the last time I was sick. Wait-” He frowned as he tried to dig up the memory. “I think it was like 8th grade? And I had the flu? I dunno; Uncle Wayne came home to me curled up asleep in the empty tub with a fever. He couldn’t find me for like twenty minutes.” 

There was a mildly concerned but still somewhat fond smile on Steve’s face. “You’re a bess, Budsod.” He sniffled thickly and grabbed a tissue from the box beside the couch where it looked like Steve had taken up residence. A nest of blankets, a pillow from his bed, crumpled tissues surrounding the nest, and a few empty water bottles. “But seriously, you should go. Robid high-tailed it out of here to Dadcy’s the seco’d she heard I was sick.”

“All the more reason for me to stay!” Eddie chirped, stepping back to show Steve the menagerie of sick supplies he’d brought. “Not that you need a babysitter, and if you seriously wanna be left alone to your misery, I get it, but…” He side-stepped a little closer to bump their shoulders together. “I never liked being alone while sick.” He admits softly.

The little bump made Steve’s lips twitch, and Eddie counted it as a win. Then Steve moved forward to have a look at the supplies. “Jesus, you didd’t have to get b’me all this…”

Eddie pats Steve on the back as he moved with him, eyes scanning over the cold/flu meds, a couple cans of chicken noodle soup, some bottles of Gatorade, the cough drops he’d mentioned earlier, and even- “Those fucking dissolvable shower disks are evil, Harrington. That’s your treat if you’re a good boy and take your meds, deal?” He said with a smirk growing on his face now.

A sputtering noise from Steve turned into a coughing fit almost right away, bad enough that Eddie was rubbing his back through the end of it. “W-What the hell does that bead?” He choked out, eyes wide. “If they’re evil thed, why did you bri’g theb?”

A laugh escaped Eddie, who was now taking Steve’s hands to guide him back to the couch, settling the sick man down to wrap him back up in blankets. “Because they work and because you will probably love it.” He said playfully and hesitated momentarily, trying not to overthink it before pressing his lips to Steve’s forehead. “Not warm.” He whispered softly.

Steve let out an almost shuddering-sounding sigh like he was just happy to be touched. To be taken care of for once. They’d only started getting to know each other but had been texting a bit. With all those teens he babysat, Eddie could believe it. Between work, babysitting, and probably taking care of things at the apartment with his roommate… when did Steve get time to care for himself? No wonder he got sick, Eddie thought. 

“What do you say to some daytime cold meds, a cough drop, some Gatorade, and I’ll heat you up a can of soup in a bit?” Eddie asked Steve softly, running his fingers delicately through the other man’s messy bedhead. It was as if Steve was a cat, utterly leaning into the touch despite how sick he must feel with how he looked. 

There was a nod from Steve, so Eddie took that to mean go ahead with his plan. “Kinda glad to see you keep work at work.” He admits to Steve in a casually playful way while grabbing Steve a Gatorade and some pills. “Would’ve sucked if we were both sneezing our heads off- bless you, by the way.”

As Eddie spoke, Steve’s face had been going slowly slacker, and his eyes were unfocused in a classic pre-sneeze hang-up. “Ixx’TSH! IXGh’t! Oh god… I’b dot godda be able to stifle those buch lo’ger…” Steve mutters with a much soupier-sounding sniffle than Eddie expected for some pretty well-stifled sneezes. 

Nevertheless, Eddie pulled his bandana from his back pocket and swatted Steve with it before offering it out to him. “Here. Stop stifling then, jackass. Didn’t see me stifling for you, hm?” He pointed out, handed over the meds and drink, and gestured to the cough drops. “Try one. It’ll feel good on your throat and help your congestion.” 

Steve caught the bandana and gave Eddie an appreciative smile for the soft fabric against his nose. “Ugh, fide if it gets you to shut up.” He teased, punctuated by a weak cough after downing the meds. Then he grabs a menthol lozenge. After popping it into his mouth, Steve’s eyebrows raise. “I was expecti’g that to taste worse… cad defiditely still taste the bedthol…” He admits with a slight sniffle.

“Sorry… what were you sayi’g earlier?” Steve asked with another little sniffle as he settled on the couch, pressing the bandana to his nose some more. There’s the slightest flush that wasn’t there a little bit ago. Eddie would’ve remembered if it had been there or not. It’s too cute, barely spreading over his cheekbones and nose tip. 

Eddie was knocked out of his daydreaming by remembering he had to answer Steve. “Huh? Oh- thanking you for your lack of plants. That’s all.” He jokes and shakes his head. “It’s stupid, don’t worry about it. I’m just glad to get a break from being the sneezy one.” He teased.

A quiet, albeit raspy, chuckle escapes Steve while he sucks on the lozenge. “Ab I givi’g you a rud for you b-buhh…bodey yet? Or do I deed to snff let byself sdeeze bore for that?” With all the stopping to sniffle and how his nose seemed to be tickling, Eddie got the idea the menthol in the lozenge was working on Steve’s sinuses. 

“Well, I think you’re doomed to sneeze more soon either way, big boy.” Eddie teased as he watched the other man’s expression fall again into that pre-sneeze desperation. 

Still, Steve seemed to want to deny himself release. “D-D’noh idea… w-whhaahat you bead, Eds-” His breath was beginning to hitch dangerously now, coming closer and closer to its inevitable crescendo. 

Eddie took Steve’s hands, “Don’t stifle, Steve… just sneeze. It’s okay.” He urged the other, getting the feeling it was far more than just a matter of Steve not wanting to spread germs. Like he was still embarrassed and shy.

“Oh, okaaehh-! AeISHHue! HeiiISHhuh! Ngh- Ugh… Oh fuck. Still tickles.” Steve admits, scrunching and wriggling his nose in all sorts of ways Eddie found altogether too damn endearing. 

Eddie rolled his eyes and dropped down onto the couch with Steve. “Come here, sniffles.” And he can plainly see that has an effect on Steve from where he sits now. Steve’s breath catches, and there’s the slightest tent to the front of his Hawkins High Swim Team gray sweatpants. Whoever designed those pants for the swim team, Eddie could kiss them. “Oh, you like that?” He purred.

A shaky sort of breath left Steve, but Eddie wasn’t quite sure if it was from being teased or still needing to sneeze. Though Steve moved a bit closer, his eyes were watering a little now with the irritation that wouldn’t budge. “O-oh god, cobe o-ohhhih-!” Even with as desperate of a hitch as it sounded, Steve still faltered into sniffles and groaned. 

The curly-haired man looked at Steve with an exceptionally soft pout, one of distinct sympathy. “You want some help with that? Seriously, that looks like torture.” He tilted his head when Steve sniffled, and his eyes widened at Eddie’s offer. 

“I’b sorry, what’d you just ask, b’me?” Steve asked, like he wasn’t sure if he was hearing correctly. He was still rubbing his nose against the cuff of his hoodie; Eddie wasn’t sure if he was encouraging or fighting off the tickle anymore. 

Eddie raised a brow at Steve in confusion, “Do you need help with that stuck sneeze? You’re starting to look more miserable than me peak allergy season, Stevie.” He teased, watching as the other continued staring at him like a deer in headlights until it clicked for Eddie, and he had his lightbulb moment. “Wait! Does that turn you on?” He asked, sounding utterly delighted to have figured out how to get Steve going to the point where he was nearly speechless.

Instantly, Steve was sputtering, and it caused a few coughs to escape him. “Oh by god, you cad’t just say thi’gs like that to b’me, Eds…” He complained, leaning back against the couch to tip his head back while rubbing at his nose some more. “Fuck… ugh, bay- maehh… hehih-!” And once again, Eddie watched him wind up, only for nothing to happen. 

“Sooo…?” Eddie prompted and gave a vague wave of his hand as if gesturing Steve to continue. 

It was truly remarkable how red Steve’s face could flush, Eddie thought as he watched the lighter brunette make the internal debate. “Fide. Jesus, we practically flirt all the tibe adyway.” He reached forward to snatch a tissue, twisting the corner into a point.

Eddie’s brows furrowed as he watched in utter confusion while Steve strangled the tissue. “Okay, I gotta ask… what the fuck are you doing?” 

“I’b- ihhih… ugh, I’b baki’g sobethi’g for you to i’duce b’me.” He explained before handing the tissue, now twisted to a neatly pointed tip, over to Eddie. “Probably wod’t get bore thad ode use out of it because I’b all coldish, but iihh-! it should do the trick.”

After accepting the new tool, Eddie turned to face Steve more as he started to get the idea. “Ohh, I think I get it. Okay. Never actually thought to use a tissue like this, honestly.” He admits before smirking a little. This was Steve’s kink, and well… he wanted to perform for him a little. Make it fun for him. 

He trails the very tip of the twisted-up tissue end over the tip of Steve’s red nose and watches as his nostrils flare in response to even just that. “Jesus, someone’s sensitive.” It was just a stray comment. Sometimes, Eddie couldn’t keep his mouth shut, but judging by how Steve’s hips suddenly squirmed, he really enjoyed it. 

A grin split across Eddie’s face, and he suddenly moved to straddle Steve’s lap, “Think I need a better position for this, don’t you, sweetheart?” he asked teasingly and winked at his boyfriend, who was now bright red as he looked up at him. Eddie eased down to sit more in Steve’s lap, which caused the other man to groan softly. 

“Sure, E-Eddie…” Steve stuttered out, but this time, it clearly had nothing to do with his sensitive nostrils that Eddie was already getting back to teasing. “You cad go i-ihhh idside…” 

That made the darker-haired man raise his brows in mild surprise, but he nodded, gently slipping the tip of the tissue into Steve’s nose. He gently twirled the tissue curiously, which had Steve instantly gasping beneath him, and Eddie’s dick twitched at just how powerful he felt for a brief moment.

The twirl seemed to do the trick because Steve’s nostrils flared out, and his eyes fluttered closed with another desperate, hitching breath. Eddie’s hand shot back with the tissue still clutched between his fingers, the twisted tip now all damp and limp despite its short adventure. 

“Ihh… IXXTISHHUE!! HEIIISHUE! Uh… Hupt’IISHHuh… ugh oh by god…” Steve groaned out after the sneezes. The first two burst forth with a sudden intensity Eddie hadn’t been expecting at all. The lighter-haired brunette hastily grabbed a tissue to press to his face, cleaning himself up while a blush spread across his neck and cheeks. “Fuck that’s so e’barassi’g.” He whispered, but Eddie could feel Steve’s erection pressing firmly against him. 

The ease with which Eddie could get Steve so hard he was pressing up against him like that even while he was under the weather was borderline intoxicating. It didn’t matter that Steve had snapped right forward to sneeze, the spray misting briefly against Eddie’s forearm and stomach.

“Bless you, hey… it’s alright. You’re sick; gotta get that gunk outta you. Maybe a shower with one of those disks would be a good idea, actually… clear out some of that congestion, huh?” He offered and grabbed Steve another tissue to replace the one he’d just about soaked through by now.

Little, congested snuffles were coming from Steve constantly as Eddie sat back in his lap to let him tend to his leaking nose. “Baybe…” Steve relented a little, still seeming shy, and wiped away the tears at the edges of his eyes from sneezing. His sinuses were so utterly full it was hard not to tear up with every sneeze. “What uh… what exactly do they eved do? Dever really tried theb before.”

At that, Eddie perked up and grinned at Steve before moving out of his lap. “Oh, you’re gonna love this- c’mon, sniffles. Let’s get you in the nice warm shower with one of those disks then.” He slid backward off of Steve’s lap carefully. He offered his hands to pull him up, ensuring Steve was steady on his feet before grabbing one of said shower disks and being led to the bathroom. 

The bathroom was admittedly a little small for two people. Eddie wasn’t sure how Steve and his roommate managed it, but he went about getting the disk out of the packaging. Of course, the moment the menthol scent hit him, his eyes watered, and his nose prickled, making him pause to rub roughly at it with his hand.

A sudden hand on his arm made him pause, blinking over at Steve, who was looking at him with a concerned expression. “I cad oped it?” He offers softly, but Eddie takes a moment to look at him. Steve looks exhausted and sick, sure, but his pupils are wide and lust-blown. That hard-on from the couch is still half-present and painfully evident in those gray sweatpants, too.

“I got it, sweethhheart.” Eddie assures, wiggling the disk as his own breath tries to hitch, and he lets it for once. In fact, Eddie sniffs slightly, which only irritates his sensitive nose more, so his nostrils twitch and flare. “Told you… you’ll l-love.. thhhh… hEXZT’Shiew! Whew! Okay. You’ll love these.” And without another moment to waste, Eddie sets the little disk in the shower for Steve with a wink. “I’ll leave you to it then.”

Finally, Eddie sees Steve’s unfiltered reaction to one of his sneezes, similar to in the library. It was as if the poor man had completely bluescreened briefly before rebooting. Pupils wide and lust blown as he stared at Eddie, who still rubbed his nose. “Uh… yeah, so just… shower like dorbal?” he asked with another soupy sniffle and began to pull off his shirt, already starting to shiver.

Suddenly, Eddie’s throat felt dry as Steve began undressing with him in the bathroom, and he nodded. “Yep. That’s the idea. It’ll dissolve, and the scent will help clear out your sinuses. Want me to go sit on the couch and wait?” 

With his pants still on, Steve was reaching forward to crank the water as hot as it would go, still sniffling. “Uhm… ki’da… ki’da dizzy actually? Could you baybe like… keep close? Id case I deed you?” There was a quiet plea in Steve’s voice, the request coming out awkward and stunted like he wasn’t used to asking for help. 

Something in it tugged on Eddie’s shriveled heart, and he looked up at Steve with a soft expression. “Yeah, Stevie. I can stay. I’ll turn around so you can strip and get in, deal? Deal.” He agreed, tucking himself into the corner by the sink to stare at the wall. There was a good deal of shuffling behind him before he heard the shower curtain and the spray of water finally being interrupted. 

The menthol scent from the shower disk was already making Eddie’s nose twitch and tingle, so he closed the toilet seat lid, going to sit down on it. “Remember what I said earlier? We’re trying to get that gunk out of you, man. Trust me when I say I’m not gonna judge you or anything. Seriously, I’m sure you’ll get to see me peak allergy s-seeh-season, and you’ll get it.”

His idle chatter as Steve showered made the man give a quiet grunt. “You sure?” Steve’s voice was tired, nervous, and still congested, but it already sounded a little better than before. 

“P-Positiihh-“ But just as Eddie had been about to respond, his breath hitched dangerously, and his hand flung up to cover his mouth and nose. “IXT’SHiew! Ugh, positive! Sorry, sensitive nose.” Eddie admitted with a little sniffle and scrunched his nose up to try and dispel that tingling sort of itch. It wasn’t like his usual allergic itch, just maddening enough to make his sinuses wonder what was in the air to react to. “Hit’SHZiew! Snf! Motherfucker. It’s supposed to make you sneeze, not me!” 

A laugh escaped Steve, turning into some productive-sounding coughs that had Eddie grimacing in sympathy. “Give m’be a m’bidute, dod’t worry.” He assured, sniffling a little as the shower disk worked its magic while he went through his usual shower routine. 

It was barely a minute later when the bathroom had gone oddly quiet. “Heh… Gonna- HEIKTshuh! HI’TShue! Eh… ET’SHHue! HN’kt!” The last one sounded strange, and Eddie blinked a few times, wondering what in the hell Steve had done to make it sound like that. 

“You good, man?” Eddie checked in softly, almost tempted to peek over the shower curtain just to make sure he wasn’t going to pass out or anything.

A shaky breath left Steve, and Eddie saw one of his hands come up to grab the shower curtain rod for support. “Uh-huh… snff! Yeah, just-” Another little groan came from the lighter brunette, and Eddie felt worry fluttering in his ribcage like a frightened bird. “Dizzy… m’okay. Rad out of breath od that last sdeeze…” 

Something like a little cough slipped out of Steve, and Eddie stood to put a hand on top of Steve’s that had a white knuckle grip on the shower curtain rod. “Maybe it’s time to rinse off and get out, yeah? I’ll get your towel and look away so you can hop out.” He encouraged, already moving, to grab the fluffy maroon towel and hold it open. 

Only a few moments later, Steve sounded like he’d rinsed off, but then there was a soft catch of breath just above the spray before- “HeXT’SHHuh! EXT’SHHUE! Hihh… IXT’SHHuh IT’SHH! Oh by god…” If anything, Steve’s tone sounded exasperated, but the sneezes had sounded productive. “You were right. About the shower disk.” He groaned, and Eddie could hear the shower spray being disrupted again, making him smile a little before the water shut off.

“You’re kind of adorable when you’re sick, y’know that?” Eddie said as he shut his eyes, turning his face as he held out the towel for Steve. “I mean- you’re adorable in general, don’t get me wrong! But like… I dunno, man. I know you can take care of yourself, but I just wanna make sure you’re looked after.” 

There was another brief pause, and the continued silence as he felt Steve press into the towel had Eddie’s anxiety spiking. He wrapped the towel around the other’s shoulders and gave him a squeeze there. As the silence dragged on, Eddie felt a need to fill it, “Sorry, is that weird? I don’t wanna like- infantilize you or anything. I just… I wanna drag you to bed, wrap you in blankets, get you whatever you need until you feel better, y’know?”

“Would you lay with me?” Steve asked suddenly, voice right in front of him, and it shocked Eddie so much that his eyes snapped open. 

In front of him stood Steve. Hair dripping wet still, the towel now around his waist, and droplets of water running down his sinfully pretty chest. A more perverse part of Eddie had the intrusive thought of licking the water off him. Steve still had dark circles under his eyes, but those eyes were bright and pleading. “Of course I will, Stevie. We can get comfy and lay together as long as you want.”

Visibly, Steve’s shoulders relaxed, and he nodded with an almost pleading expression, pulling at his brows and lips. “Yes, please? That sounds- snf! fantastic.” He lifted a towel corner to dab at his sensitive, red nostrils with a bit of a wince. “Ugh, ow.”

With a little purse of his lips, Eddie made a sympathetic noise. “Nose all raw?” he asked, reaching out to open the bathroom door so Steve could lead the way to his bedroom. “I didn’t think to get any Vaseline; sorry, sweetheart.”

“S’okay. This always happens when I get si-ihh…. Ihih-!” Halfway down the short hallway, Steve paused with one hand on the wall as his breath began to hitch and his eyes fluttered. “Oh no come o-ohhhhh-!” Eddie watched as Steve’s hand hovered in front of his face, expression utterly helpless and slack before suddenly exploding. “IX’TSH! HiISHHue! Snf! Ugh- sorry.”

A little chuckle came from Eddie, who just shook his head, “I am the last one you have to go apologizing to for sneezing.” He assured Steve and put a hand on his lower back as he followed him. 

It didn’t take long for Steve to be dressed in some boxers and a sweatshirt since he was cold after his shower. Without even thinking about it, Eddie began pulling off his shirt and sat down on the bed to take off his shoes. The sudden sensation of fingers against his back made Eddie jump a little, and his head whipped around to find Steve tracing the dice tattoos along his spine. 

“Like what you see, Harrington?” Eddie asked in amusement as he finally kicked off his shoes to lie down beside Steve. He wiggled out of his dark pants, which got tossed to the floor as well, leaving him in boxers. Most of his upper half was covered in tattoos at this point. 

Some kind of sleepy slight hum came out of Steve, slightly congested again but not enough to hamper his speech yet. “They’re pretty. Your tattoos. Did you do them yourself?” He asked curiously, and his hand now strayed curiously over the large moth just below Eddie’s sternum. 

Eddie adjusted himself to get the blankets wrapped around them both, making sure Steve was tucked in properly before tossing the blankets over his legs. “Some smaller ones, yeah. Because I’m an idiot. Don’t tattoo yourself, Stevie. I mean it.” There’s amusement and a warning, but he leans to press his lips to Steve’s forehead again. Both checking his temperature and enjoying the simple intimacy. “Chrissy did a lot of them. Gareth, one or two, actually.”

This time, the hum from Steve was more distant, and when Eddie looked, he saw the other man was nearly asleep, tucked against him. “Get some rest, sleeping beauty. You need it. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

Taking a deep, slow breath, Steve let out a long and decidedly sleepy sigh through his mouth. His nose was still a little too congested for such things. “Promise? You won’t leave?”

Something physically hurt inside Eddie to think once upon a time; Steve might’ve been in a similar spot, vulnerable and left completely alone when he didn’t want to be. “I’ll be here. I promise.” Eddie moved his hand to find one of Steve’s, interlocking their pinkies so he could squeeze the other man’s tight before bringing it up to kiss his knuckles. “I’m here, Steve.”

The reassurance was all he needed. Steve was out like a light, soft little congested snores sounding against Eddie’s shoulder as they cuddled beneath the blankets in the cozy queen-sized bed. And really… Eddie couldn’t think of anywhere else he’d rather be. 

#ed/die mu/nson #st/eve ha/rrington #st/eddie #st/ranger th/ings #snzblr #snz #snzfic #bex's snz writing #snzfucker #tattoos and tissues #tw mess #tw inducing

[fuckin-sick-bih]

Lightning Bugs

Fandom: Stranger Things (Eddie Lives AU) Summary: Steve is coming down with something and Eddie realizes it and decides to do something about it. CW: Mess, mentions of Weed, Eddie has the kink and also mildly disabled from the demobats, & poor Stevie is photic Word Count: 4,915 MINORS DNI Author Note: This is a totally plotless drabble I've just been like picking at trying to fight writer's block and I finally finished it so figured I'd do a quickie edit and post. Enjoy!

“Hah…”

It’s so quiet and soft that Eddie almost misses it. He’s half asleep in the passenger seat of Steve’s BMW. They had just finished taking the kids home from a D&D session that went a bit longer than anticipated.

There was the flash of oncoming headlights from behind Eddie’s closed lids and then he heard it.

“Heh’DIShhuh!”

Eddie jumped from the sudden sound disturbing the quiet rumble of the engine and soft music playing, eyes snapping open to look at Steve. The lighter brunette had a hand shoved up under his nose and one still on the wheel. “Sorry-” he says with a sniffle and rubs his slightly pink nose with his knuckles. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

With a wave of his hand, Eddie brushes Steve off while trying to ignore the swooping sensation in his belly as the sound of Steve’s sneeze replays in his brain. “Don’t worry about it. Wasn’t even asleep, just resting my eyes.” He assures Steve then pauses for a beat before asking, “You alright?”

Steve was still rubbing his nose, just the two of them in the car or else Eddie suspected Steve wouldn’t let himself be quite so vulnerable. “Think so- just tired and my nose has been kinda bothering me all night.”

The admission makes Eddie’s stomach do the swooping sensation again. Like he’s on some amusement ride that twirls and spins unexpectedly. “Yeah?” He manages to choke out and sits up a little. “Think you’re catching the sniffles, Harrington?” It was a valiant attempt to keep up appearances, not wanting Steve to know just how much the one sneeze had affected him.

“Thhhh… Thought we were past the l-last names, Munson?” Steve retaliates, clearly fighting through another tickle that was building up in his sinuses. “Huhuh… God- urgh it’s gonna be stuck again.” He complains with what Eddie can only describe as a very adorable pout.

Soft pursed lips, slightly messy hair, and pinkish and irritated nostrils that stood out against his pale skin even in the dark of the car at night on the back roads. Jesus, Steve really was looking in need of some TLC… When was the last time Harrington had let someone take care of him instead of mother-henning everyone else? Or even slept?

Eddie leaned forward to pull his bandana out of his back pocket and reached over to press it into Steve’s hand. “Sorry, habit, Stevie.” He said it as a way of apologizing and smiled at the other. “You’re not looking so good. Think I got some cold meds at my place, or we can stop at the pharmacy on the way. Either way, I’m taking you hostage.”

The way he says it is matter-of-fact. Leaving Steve little room for argument, but Steve still tries to protest. “Eddie, no, c’mon, man. I can’t i-ihh.. impose like th-thaah…hah-! that.” Now Steve has his black bandana pressed to his nose.

“Not imposing, I’m inviting,” Eddie replies as another car rounds the bend and their headlights flash into Steve’s eyes.

The reaction was almost instant, and Steve kept his hand on the wheel expertly still, foot pressing on the brake to slow down the car. “Hud’TShhuh! Hept’SHhue! Hehhh’TSHHnxt!” The last one sounds pinched off and painful from behind the bandana but if it hurt Steve makes no comment, just sniffles, and speeds the car back up again. “Sorry.”

Eddie blinks a few times, trusting the dark and his black jeans to hide the fact that he’s having his own uncontrollable reaction now. “Jesus H Christ, bless you. You’re photic,” he says like it’s something completely common knowledge and not something he knows because of his stupid kink.

“What?” Steve asks blearily, setting the bandana in his lap to make the turn into the trailer park where Eddie lives.

Eddie can feel a blush creeping up his cheeks and he tries to ignore the way his heart thunders in his chest. “Uh- bright lights make you sneeze. Called photic sneezing or something like that. I dunno I think I heard one of the nerds talk about it after a D&D session.” He covers quickly.

Steve gives a thoughtful little hum, “Really? That’s not a thing for everybody?” he asked, sounding curious as he sniffled, sounding more congested by the minute after the sneezes had finally been let loose.

“Nah. I’ve looked at plenty of bright lights. No sneezing here.” Eddie tells Steve, his mouth feeling dry. The last thing he expected to be talking about to the guy he’d been secretly crushing on for years was his most secret kink. “Just shitty allergies, but don’t worry my immune system is tough as nails.” Just to hammer in the joke, Eddie pretends to flex his arms.

A rough-sounding chuckle comes out of Steve, the lighter brunette turning a moment to cough into his shoulder and lapel of his jacket. Some of his bangs fell into his face and so Steve swiped them back up again with a casual brush of his hand, a nervous tick Eddie had come to adore watching.

Christ, he couldn’t be thinking these kinds of things when Steve was right fucking there.

“Then I’ll be real proud of whatever bug my body cooked up when you catch it.” Steve taunts and parks in front of the Munson trailer, one hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Alright, Eddie, I’ll see you later…” He tries to dismiss him and Eddie’s rebellious streak flares.

Without even thinking, Eddie turns and pulls the key from the ignition with a wink aimed at Steve. “Can’t leave if you can’t find your keys, Harrington.” He taunts back and bolts out of the car.

“Eddie!” Steve shouts, his voice cracking under the strain of what was apparently a sore throat. He fumbles to get out of the car after Eddie and follows him into the trailer but by the time he gets in there Eddie is already standing there waiting patiently. Keys safely hidden somewhere in the trailer Steve would never find them until Eddie deemed him well enough to go back out on his own.

Eddie slung an arm around Steve’s shoulders playfully and kicked the trailer door closed, but nearly buckled standing on his bad leg. The one the demo-bats tried to damn near chew off. He winced and Steve was immediately there holding him up in return. The moment Eddie felt Stable he waved Steve off, “Buzz off, it’s me taking care of you not you taking care of me, remember?”

“Think I can’t multitask?” Steve jokes and lowers his hands slowly but still wraps an arm around Eddie, following his lead. Which happens to be down the hall to Eddie’s bedroom.

This time, Eddie made the smarter decision to use his hand to push open the door instead of his foot. He led Steve inside his bedroom, the whole thing a bit of a mess with some clothes strewn about in places, posters littering the walls in mismatched mayhem, more than a few guitars, amps, and cords around…

After the buckle from his ankle, Eddie limped a little. His pain tended to get worse at night. There had been significant damage done to more than a few parts of him and Eddie tried not to think about it all too much. He was still marveling at his lost nipple every time he looked in the mirror before showering…

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Eddie motions for Steve to come sit with him while he starts taking his boots off. “C’mon. Shoes off. You’re not getting in my bed with your grimy shoes on. You could’ve worn those to the Upside Down and that shit is not coming in my bed.” He rambles to fill the quiet that’s developed since Steve entered his room.

“You want me… in your bed?” Steve croaked out, sounding tired and confused. Like someone had just asked him to do a backflip on a tightrope not sit down on Eddie’s bed.

Eddie turned to look at Steve with a rather unimpressed expression. “That is what I just said, Harrington. Come on. Or I’m gonna beat you to the good spot at this rate.” The metalhead was pulling off his rings one by one to set them down on his bedside table. Next came the chain on his pants and wrist then his watch too.

It felt a little strange to be stripped so bare in front of Steve, but he found he didn’t mind it. He trusted Steve. Enough to take off his armor so to speak.

“Heh’DETShhuh! Uh’TSHHuuh! Ehh’hTSHUh! Ohhh my god…” Steve still had Eddie’s black bandana in his hand, which he pressed to his face in a valiant attempt to contain the sneezes.

Eddie’s heart was thundering in his chest, and it takes his brain a moment to register he needs to speak, “Bless- Jesus. Did you get any air during that fit?” he asked incredulously.

Steve brushed his hair up and back with a particularly thick sniffle. “D’not really…” Another groan came from Steve whose face fell into his hands as the congestion really started to make an appearance.

A soft chuckle came from Eddie who grabbed Steve’s free wrist to yank him down onto the bed with him. “If you wanna get more comfortable, you can get outta those jeans? Borrow some sweatpants if you want?” He offered, noticing Steve was in some rather tight-looking acid wash jeans and swallowing. Definitely not staring. Definitely not.

“Like I s-said Eddie I dod’t wadda i-ihhh ibpose.” Steve struggled to say as his breath began to hitch again, more of his bangs falling into his face as his expression crumpled helplessly for a moment to the itch.

Already Eddie was getting up to get Steve some clothes. He came back with some plain black sweatpants, a surprisingly soft ACDC shirt, and his cozy Zeppelin hoodie all of which he handed to Steve. “Here. Royal treatment for poor sick, Stevie.”

A pitiful sniffle came from Steve as he looked at the clothes in shock that Eddie would so willingly offer them up. “Why are you d-diih… doi’g this, Eddie?” He asked softly and took the clothes as he stood to start getting changed.

“Why wouldn’t I do this?” Eddie challenged in return while crossing his arms and sitting on the edge of the bed, looking away so Steve can change. “You take care of everybody, Steve. You try so damn hard to make sure you’re there for everyone. You never take time for yourself. You never let anyone take care of you. So let me take care of you.”

The shuffling around of Steve getting dressed suddenly stops all at once. Eddie was about to ask if Steve was okay when he finally spoke. “You wadt to take care of m’be?”

That confused Eddie because of course he did. “Yes! Jesus H. Christ, Steve! You think I stole your keys for shits and giggles?”

A soft, pitiful-sounding sniffle came from Steve who was frowning with the shirt only pulled over his arms but not his head yet. His entire torso is on display for Eddie. The scars from the demobats were healed over now. Gnarled, pink, and raised but healed. “D’no ode’s ever… wanted to actually take care of b’me before.” He admitted quietly. Eddie watched his soft belly starting to move in slightly choppier motions while his chest expanded as his breathing hitched.

“Hiih uh… IhhDSHHUH! HupTSHHUh! Snff ugh…” Steve had cupped his hands over his face in a rush to sneeze and tried to snuffle back the mess now trapped behind them. “Uh- fuck- umb… Eddie-? Cad you-?”

The darker haired man raised his brows and then scrambled for the dropped bandana turned hanky on the floor. “Yeah yeah, here, Stevie-” and he carefully pressed the black and white fabric into Steve’s hands. “There you go.”

“Thagks-” Steve said as he cleaned up his hands and face before sheepishly glancing at Eddie. “I’ll wash this for you I probise.” He said seriously to which Eddie rolled his eyes.

Eddie reached forward to gently brush Steve’s bangs back and feel his forehead. “Blow your nose, Steve. I can barely understand you.” He admonished, smiling a little as he got to watch a blush spread over Steve Harrington’s features. Christ, this was like one of Eddie’s wet dreams come true.

Focus, Eddie, focus. Steve first, be horny about it later. He reminded himself and then Steve blew his nose while Eddie’s hand was still resting on his forehead. It took all of Eddie’s willpower not to cream his pants right then and there as Steve gave a wet, gurgling blow.

There must have been some kind of look on his face because Steve spoke up with his nose still buried in the bandana. “Sorry. I kdow this is ki’d of gross. I’ll be totally fide to take care of byself if you let b’me go hobe, Eddie. Seriously.”

“No. Nope. I simply cannot, in good conscience, allow my sick best friend out of my sight.” Eddie said loud and dramatic as he stood slowly with a slightly pained-sounding grunt. He helped get the shirt the rest of the way onto Steve. “There. Bit tight on your shoulders but well… you’re all… jocky and shit.” He waves a hand at Steve and drops back down onto the bed.

Steve gave a quiet, slightly congested chuckle and swiped at his nose with the bandana a few more times. “Yeah, basketball and swimming ki’da does that…” He sniffled a little and sat down near Eddie.

Something else nagged at Eddie and he soon spoke up. “You’re not gross, Steve.” he said softly. “Far from it.” He added quietly and smiled a little as he admired Steve in his clothes for a few moments. So, fucking cute, he thought to himself.

“I ab. I’b all sdotty add gerby add I sou’d like I gargled glass.” Steve mumbled and lifted an arm to cough into it softly as if his body sought to prove his point about his throat being affected.

With a small shake of his head, Eddie guided Steve up to the top of his bed so he could pull the unmade mess of sheets and blankets over him. “You’re sick, comes with the territory, and anyone who isn’t willing to be with you when you feel like crap doesn’t deserve you. Got it?” He tells Steve, pointing a finger at the other man to give him a jab to the chest.

For a few seconds, Steve seems almost frozen, smiling softly at him before he snaps out of it and nods. “Yeah… yeah okay, Eddie.” He sniffles ever so slightly and rubs a finger under his nose once again. “Ugh, do you baybe have sobe tissues, Eds? Thiiihh ugh thi’gk I’b godda s-sdeeze agaid…”

It took Eddie’s brain a second to register what Steve was asking him for before Eddie shook himself into action. “Huh? Ohh tissues? That’s what you said. Yeah, I got you, man.” He assured him, grabbing a mostly full box from the bathroom just next door to his room to toss them to Steve. “Take as many as you need. I have more boxes. My allergies get real bad in spring and fall.” He admits, definitely aware it was nearly spring, and he’d soon be as bad, if not worse, than Steve.

“Hii’RSHuuh! Ehh… ehXT’SHuh! Ugh d’no… cobe od that’s dot all of theb…” Steve groaned and rubbed at his nose with the tissues he’d hurriedly snatched from the box, though not quite in time to catch the first sneeze. The second he’d thankfully buried his face into the tissue as mess had burst forth with the force of it. “Fuck, I’b sorry… yesterday by throat tickled a little add I thought it was baybe just, y’kdow, spri’g bei’g od it’s way…” Steve shook his head and grabbed another tissue to make sure his face was clear. “But I’b odly ever a total bess like this whed I’b sick.”

It was like the cogs in his brain had stopped meshing correctly, gotten jammed or something by all of the horrifically hot things Steve was saying, and caught fire. Eddie twirled and pulled on the ends of his hair a little as if he was trying to use it to ground himself. Or just to cover his ears so the imaginary smoke from his brain didn’t escape.

“Steve, it’s… it’s fine, seriously. You’re fine. Well- no, okay, you’re sick. Buuuut… that’s okay! Because I’m gonna take care of you because that’s what good friends do.” He insisted before spinning around to go searching for something in one of his many drawers. Partly to hide his utter embarrassment and likely bright red face and because he had an idea.

After a few moments, he made a triumphant sort of sound as fingertips connected with plastic. “Gotcha-” He pulled out a flashlight, flicked it on, and smacked it against his opposite palm a few times to get it to flicker on. Then switched it on and off a few times to get it working properly.

Steve’s slightly hitchy breaths were still coming from behind Eddie so the curly-haired man spun around he called out, “Hey, Harrington!” And flicked on the flashlight to shine it into Steve’s eyes.

The moment the light hit Steve’s pupils, they contracted, and his breath hitched in earnest while his nostrils flared. He fumbled blindly for a tissue, his chest swelling as he just barely managed to press one to his face before- “Hhh’TSHue! Hiih’DSHuh! Eddie, what the fuck?” He complained voice muffled from behind his tissue as he cleaned up from the aftermath of that.

“Sounded like you were really struggling with those sneezes, is all.” Eddie teased with a small wink at Steve, bringing the flashlight over to set it on the bedside table in case they needed it later. It was thankfully always pretty dim in Eddie’s room, the metalhead never much one to really brighten the place up.

Steve was busy plucking another tissue to blow his nose, the thick and congested sound of it making Eddie tense. “Ugh sorry, but hey at least I cad breathe a little better for dow.” He sniffed as if to try and prove his point, but it just sounded wet and distinctly like Steve was coming down with something.

Trying to prove he could breathe was almost a little too much for Eddie and he bit his own tongue as hard as he dared to. “Uh-huh. Yeah, you totally don’t sound like you’re drowning.” He teased back, briefly limping back to the bathroom to rummage in the medicine cabinet. After pulling out a package of cold medicine, a jar of Vicks, and a glass of water, Eddie settled down on the bed in front of Steve.

“We got cold meds, vapo rub shit, and water. Sound good?” Eddie asked as he held everything up, already getting out the pills for Steve to pass them over with the water.

The lighter-haired brunette knocked back the pills with a few sips of water and eyed the jar a little suspiciously. “That’s godda bake be sdeeze…” He said warily but let out a little sigh through his mouth. “But fuck I really wadda breathe- alright. Yeah. Screw it. Let’s do it.” And without another wasted moment, Steve pulled up the sweatshirt and t-shirt to expose his chest once again.

The split second before Steve’s bare chest was in his face again, Eddie was still deep in his thoughts wondering just how long of a cold shower he’d need to calm down from the other’s sneezing. His heart leapt into his throat as his big, brown eyes were suddenly scanning over every delicious inch of Steve’s torso once more. Every freckle, old and new scar, curve, and rise of his stupidly gorgeous body-

“Uh-” It was like all semblance of coherent thought and words left him at once and he offered up the jar instead. “I- yeah. Jar. Works. Good. For that.” Already he could feel his face heating up and Eddie wanted nothing more than to faceplant into his pillows and never leave them.

There was a look of confusion on Steve’s pale face as he looked up at Eddie. “You okay?” And when Eddie glanced at him, maybe he caught the hint of a smile, so Eddie cleared his throat and nodded.

Eddie decided in a split second that this was an opportunity not to be wasted. “Yep. Good. Fine. Totally. Just uh-” He was unscrewing the top of the jar and shuffling a little closer to Steve, wrinkling his own nose at the smell of the Vicks. “Ugh, jeez. That smell. Anyway, hold your shirts up and I’ll rub it on for you? Deal? I really meant it when I said I wanted to take care of you, Stevie…”

Because he did. Here was this man who would lay down his life for any of the kids in their group, any of their friends, any of the grown adults in their stupid town probably, and never ask for a thing in return. Never ask for a moment to himself. Eddie thought he was an idiot for it and for not taking the time to take care of himself in between. But fuck was he sweet, thoughtful, caring, and drop-dead gorgeous.

Especially now as his eyes were a little glassy with the slightest hint of the start of fever and more red than pink nostrils. “Deal.” He murmured, raising a hand to turn his head and cough into a fist. “Mh. Sorry. Snff! I really uh… appreciate this e-ehh… Eddie EXT’sHHhuh!” The first of many sneezes had Steve’s whole body going tense and jerking to the side as he sneezed, expression pinched and then settling. “Ngh…” He snatched a tissue with a free hand to swipe at his nose.

Swallowing down his nerves, Eddie scooped up some of the Vicks to carefully rub it onto Steve’s chest. His skin was warm to the touch, but not overly so, and of course, the tips of his fingers brushed the patch of chest hair the other man had. It made him smile as he carefully rubbed in the menthol-smelling goo around it until after a few moments Steve’s chest started to rise and fall in choppy motions once more. “Gonna sneeze, big boy?” He asked, voice soft but he couldn’t keep the edge of hopeful playfulness out of it.

“Y-Yeah hhhang… on HhhT’SHhuh! IT’sHHuh! Huh… HUPT’SHHuh! Oh by god…” Steve shuffled a little to grab a fresh tissue and pinch it over his nose with one hand as he blew. It was productive and Steve grimaced while Eddie felt a pulse of arousal shoot through him. “Ugh, sorry… your hand felt really nice though.”

It looked as if Steve’s eyelids were drooping slightly and Eddie smiled a little again, resuming the small, gentle circles he’d been using to rub in the Vicks. “Yeah? I can keep doing this?” There was the smallest of prickles in the back of his own sinuses from the strong, lingering scent of the menthol so Eddie tried to one-handedly put the lid back on the jar.

Steve spotted him struggling and reached out to hold the jar still for him. “Got it? Snff! Snf! Ugh, shit my nose is running.” He mumbled, still sniffling wetly despite his previous nose blow. Though he did sound a lot less congested already.

Eddie was about to respond when the tickle in his nose suddenly flared to a desperate itch, making his own breath hitch. Fuck, not now. “Ihhh…” His eyes fluttered shut and his hands froze, nostrils twitching as he could do nothing but wait for the sensation to either go away or come forth with a vengeance.

“Eddie?” Steve sounded worried and Christ that was the last thing Eddie wanted to do, worry Steve. Especially when he was already sick. With his eyes shut, Eddie couldn’t see him, so he just vaguely flapped a hand at him as his breath hitched again.

“Ihihh-! IxxT’SHHiew! IehhTshhoo! Heh… Hen’xt’SHHiew! Ugh… heh? Oh fuck more? HeT’SHiew!” Eddie gave a little shake of his head and finished screwing on the lid to the Vicks. “Whew. Fuck, that’s strong stuff. That always happens, don’t worry.” He assures Steve with a grin and a small sniff of his own. Which was true. Eddie and strong scents didn’t really mix.

Once he’d tried to use an incense to cover up the smell of weed and it had made him sneeze so much that by the time Wayne got home, he was still sneezing. And it hadn’t even worked. Not that Wayne had much cared anyway. Just told him to crack a window instead next time.

There was a small smile on Steve’s face when Eddie finally found the courage to look up at him. “Bless you, Eds. That’s pretty cute. That the Vicks makes you sneeze even when you’re not sick.” It was so soft. So genuine. Eddie almost couldn’t believe what he was hearing, but Steve was looking almost ready to drop off to sleep. How could Eddie argue with him when he was looking so adorably sleepy and cozy?

Instead, Eddie melted and gently tugged his shirt back down before tucking him in. “Thanks, Stevie. Now get some rest. You need it. I’ll be right here if you need me.” He set the jar aside, undid his belt, and kicked off his jeans before curling up under the blankets beside Steve in just his boxers and t-shirt.

“Thanks, Eds…” Steve mumbles, rolling onto his side to face Eddie. The curly-haired man stared in the dimly lit room at the lighter brunette, drinking in his features with unabashed leisure for once. Those twin moles that could have mimicked a vampire bite on his neck made him smile and he felt the urge to lean forward and kiss them rise up within himself. Yet he held back.

Then Steve’s face scrunched. Particularly around his nose and those red, slightly damp, and shiny nostrils that flared. “Heh…” He sleepily lifted a hand to paw at his nose a little. “Eddie?” He croaked out softly, clearly not yet asleep if he was struggling with a sneeze.

The way his heart skipped excitedly at Steve saying his name somewhat breathless and croaky like that shouldn’t be so exciting, but Eddie licked his lips and hummed softly. “Yeah, Stevie? Need somethin’?” His own voice came out a little breathless at first and he quickly remedied it as he continued to sound more concerned.

“Need… ehh-! Heh-eh… need to s-sneeze… can’t…” Steve admits as his breath continues to hitch ever so slightly, one hand still rubbing a little at his nose. “Just waah… eh-! want to sleep.”

Of course, Eddie didn’t need to be asked twice and knew exactly what to do. He rolled right over to grab the flashlight off the nightstand and aimed it at Steve’s face. “Open your eyes for me so we can make sure this works. It’ll just take a second. Promise.” One of Eddie’s hands came up to move the box of tissues closer, pressing one pre-emptively into Steve’s hand that was still hovering near his nose.

Opening his eyes a little, though they were watering with that incessant urge to sneeze, Steve looked at Eddie and seemed to spot the flashlight because his eyes widened in surprise. Exactly at that same time, Eddie switched on the flashlight and got to watch Steve’s sneezy expression crumple lit up in all his glory.

Steve’s eyes fluttered back shut, brows pinching downward, nose scrunching, and nostrils flaring as he sucked in a breath before jerking forward into the tissue. “HahDT’SHH! HenT’SHH! Heh… EHT’SHHuhh! Oh…” Blinking a few times, Steve groaned and snatched some more tissues to give some wet blows.

As Steve blew and wiped his nose, Eddie realized he needed to turn off the flashlight, so he did and set it aside again. He’d been so utterly transfixed on Steve’s sneezing fit that he’d just laid there practically slack-jawed watching the other. “Bless you, feeling better after that?” It took everything in Eddie to try and keep his voice level. Normal.

A few wet sniffles came from Steve as he nodded, “Yeah, yeah I’m good. Snff! Ugh, all thanks to my own personal lightning bug.” He murmurs with a happy little hum and Eddie let out a soft gasp as he felt a warm arm slide around him. “This okay?” Steve mumbled, suddenly pressing closer than he ever had before. Practically up against his chest now.

Where was this cuddly side of Steve Harrington coming from? he wondered to himself. If it had anything to do with Steve being sick, Eddie wasn’t going to go looking gift horses in the mouth. “Yeah, Stevie.” He murmured, feeling like a weight was lifting from his shoulders as Steve’s warmth settled into his own bones. “This is great. You rest. I’ll keep you warm.” His own arm snaked around Steve’s waist while his leg hooked around the other man’s as well.

Eddie trailed his fingertips lazily along Steve’s back, following the beautiful hills and valleys he could only feel through the shirts. Given how Steve seemed to melt under the gentle affections, they were incredibly welcomed and soon Steve was fast asleep snoring congestedly against Eddie’s chest. “Happy to be your lightning bug anytime, big boy.”

#cw: mess #cw: weed #snz #snz kink #snzblr #snzfic #st/eddie #st/ranger th/ings #st/eve ha/rrington #ed/die mu/nson #bex's writing

[fuckin-sick-bih]

AU where Steve Harrington has a cooking/baking channel and Eddie is an indie musician. Steve's fans get really excited when they can hear Eddie in the background making comments or when he guest stars as the resident "Taste Tester". one day, Eddie is sick and can't stop sneezing nearly every take. instead of getting mad at Eddie, Steve changes up his filming idea. he makes soup and has Eddie sit in as his Taste Tester once again. the video is full of stuffy banter from the metalhead like "dod't m'bide be. I'b just here to supervise that cake Stevie walks arou'd with!". meanwhile Steve ends up looking directly into the camera saying "if nothing else, this soup will get your stubborn ass boyfriend to finally blow his damn nose!" to which Eddie sputters and coughs. the soup spices in the air as Steve cooks only make his sneezing worse. the comments are flooded with "Get well soon!" and "Hope you don't catch that cold from him!" and Steve does. because of course he does. so next week's video instead stars Eddie attempting to cook the same soup while Steve sniffles and sits on the counter observing like Eddie usually does. and once again those spices get to them both <3

#if this inspires you to write then go for it cuz i just had to slap the idea down before i forgot about it #snz #snz kink #snzario #ed/die mu/nson #st/eve ha/rrington #st/ranger th/ings #st/eddie #st/eddie au #tw contagion

[fuckin-sick-bih]

Tattoos and Tissues

Fandom: Stranger Things Summary: No Upside Down. Tattoo Artist and Florist AU. Eddie is a tattoo shop owner and all is going swimmingly until a certain familiar face from high school drops in to ask for help with tattoo design but ends up setting off his allergies. But Eddie can't pinpoint why his ex-bully is so... squirmy? CW: Really mild mention of mess? Steve has the kink but it's really only implied. Word Count: 4k Author Note: Heya! I tried to throw some fun kink-related scenario stuff into this fic just for shits and giggles. But also kept it pretty tame, but I've got some ideas for a pt 2 and possibly pt 3 if y'all like this? And those might get spicier. So just let me know if you like this AU or just really sneezy Eddie in general. It was fun to write! Also kinda lowkey maybe sorta snuck in some Autistic Eddie bc hi author is autistic oops. MINORS DNI

It was winter. Blessedly crisp and cold, and even if Eddie hated being cold, he liked winter. It was one of the few seasons where he wasn’t the sneezy friend for once in his life. No, with his Munson Constitution, Eddie had an immune system like a damn suit of armor.

Come Spring, Summer, and even Fall? Eddie was bound to sneeze on and off all damn day depending on the pollen count for the various things he was allergic to. The only reason he was usually functional at all was because of getting allergy shots that helped make his itchiness, sneezing, and everything else more manageable. When he couldn’t do that he just had to pop some Benadryl and hope for the best.

Eddie’s chilly fingers were currently wrapped around a coffee mug as he headed into work, greeting Gareth sleepily with a mumble.

“Dude. It’s 11am. You should absolutely be awake by now.” Gareth said incredulously from behind the counter where he was going over the schedule for the day. They’d only just opened. Such was the luxury of owning a tattoo parlor, they could open just before noon, and it was completely normal for them.

Eddie sipped his coffee and waved a ring clad hand at Gareth, shushing him once he’d swallowed. “Shhh… you sound like my uncle when you nag like that.” He complains and has another sip of coffee, leaning over to peek at the schedule. “I got anything early?”

It wasn’t unusual for Eddie to lean into other people’s personal space and Garret just rolled his eyes and shoved him back over the counter. “No. When do you ever? Chrissy always does mornings for you.”

“He’s riiiiight.” Chrissy says with a sing song voice as she comes skipping over to Eddie with a grin on her face. She steals his coffee cup for a sip and Eddie doesn’t even whine as she does so. Just lets her have it.

Eddie wraps an arm around Chrissy’s shoulders and squeezes her gently. “And you’re an angel for it. An angel!” He insists and turns his face away from her to yawn into his arm. “Urgh sorry.”

One of Chrissy’s hands comes up to gently cup Eddie’s face, eyeing the bags under his eyes and how bloodshot they look. “Is it nightmares again?” She asks him quietly to which Garret politely pretends to be busy doing anything but listening in.

With a fake smile, Eddie gently takes her hand off his face and squeezes it reassuringly. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.” He told her quietly and kissed the top of her head. They weren’t together. Had tried it once but Chrissy had broken down and sobbed to Eddie over a bottle of wine that she was a lesbian. Eddie had held her all night, reassured her, promised her that no matter what he loved her and supported her wholeheartedly.  

So, they weren’t together, but they were as thick as thieves. Closer than siblings but not together in any romantic or sexual sense. They just knew each other too well. On some deeper level… Chrissy knew shit about Eddie’s past that no one else knew and Eddie, in turn, knew things about Chrissy he’d never breathe a word about…

The door chimed and Chrissy stepped back to look at the person who had come through the doors. “Hi, welcomed to Banished Tattoo, if you’re my eleven thirty you’re pretty early, eager beaver.” She greeted chipperly to which the stranger seemed surprised.

“Uh… no actually. I was looking around at some tattoo places near my new apartment and this place is pretty close. Thought I’d stop by and check out some work. Maybe talk design ideas if I like your stuff?” And the man used a hand to brush his stray bangs that had fallen back up out of his face.

Strangely familiar… He was gorgeous. No really. Utterly and completely heart-stopping. Those soft lips and handsome jaw with that perfect fucking hair, those little moles, fuck  Eddie was smitten already, and the motherfucker hadn’t even agreed to a tattoo yet.

In fact, it didn’t look like he had any tattoos at all… Eddie was somewhat confused but left Chrissy to set him up with their work portfolio booklets full of their best pieces. He took his coffee to his tattooing station on the lower floor.

All of Chrissy’s things were in the loft area up top. She was so short and so liked to feel tall otherwise. A little while later, Eddie became aware of Chrissy’s presence behind him when he was about half way done with his coffee. “Oh no…” He said quietly. “Don’t tell me…”

“He liked your work.” Chrissy said with a grin and grabbed him by one of his curls to pull him out from behind the dividing wall to the waiting area while Eddie hisses “ow ow ow ow ow Chrissy-!”

Once they’re in front of this poor stranger, already subjected to Eddie’s nonsense this early in the morning (at least in Eddie’s opinion), Eddie tucks the strand of hair Chrissy pulled him by back behind his ear.

“Sorry, he’s not a morning person is all.” Chrissy explained, still cheerful as ever. “I’ve got to go prepare for my eleven thirty. You boys have fun brainstorming.” And with that she hurried off back up to the loft.

Eddie wanted to grumble but instead he took a breath, felt a dull tingle in his nose and ignored it, before switching his coffee to his nondominant hand to offer a handshake out to the other man. “Eddie Munson. So, you liked my stuff and wanna design a tattoo?”

The other man takes the offered hand to shake it and nods. “Yeah! I really liked your style and consistency, man. I’m Steve Harrington.” He introduced himself and Eddie could swear the name sounded familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it.

His nose prickled with that itchy sort of tickling sensation again and Eddie rubbed at it with the back of his wrist. “Steve Harrington, huh? Nice to meet ya. Let me grab some things and we can get settled in my tattooing area to design this if you want? There’s a couch in there?” He offered and headed back to his area. Rummaging around a little, Eddie pulled out his sketchbook, pencils, and pens. “So, what’s our tattoo idea?”

Slowly, Steve eased down on the black leather couch while Eddie leaned against the tattooing table, setting his coffee down there. “I’m not totally sure… I babysit these kids and I sort of just promised them if they’re all graduating with A’s then I’ll get a tattoo for them. And well- I’m a man of my word.”

A loud sigh escaped Eddie as he smiled and rubbed a hand over his face. “Oh man… You’re in some shit. Okay, bud. You want something small or big?” He asked casually and felt the tickle spike in intensity for a moment. “Hih… Uh… h-hang on one s-seehhcond…”

Holding up a finger with the hand still holding his pencil, Eddie lifts his opposite arm to prepare to sneeze into his elbow. “EhhhXT’shh! Ugh sorry. S’cuse me.” He shook his head, curls flopping wildly for a moment and sniffed.

“Bless you.” Steve said, blinking a few times and looking like he had to recover for a moment. “Are you okay?”

Eddie waved off his concern with another sniff and a nod. “I’m fine. So, this tattoo. How big or small? Any sort of theme you’re th-hiih-inking about?” He questioned and tapped his pencil against the paper a little, the itch still bothering him.

Poor Steve looked completely out of his element now that they were talking about putting ink on him specifically. “Um… well… I think small might be better for my first-”

“HiiD’TShhuh! Ugh… snff sorry.” Eddie apologized, realizing he’d interrupted Steve again who looked positively flustered.

Maybe flustered was too kind of a word to use. Actually, Steve looked downright embarrassed. He was bright red but even as Eddie went to ask if he was okay, Steve took his turn to cut him off. “It’s fine. Um. What was I saying? Oh! Small! So how small is small really? Like a quarter? Or… like a drink coaster? I dunno…” He threw his hands a little in frustration and Eddie couldn’t help smiling in endearment.

“You h-hhhaave no idea what you w-want do you?” Eddie asked with a smirk and another sniffle punctuating it.

“No fucking idea.” Steve finally admitted with a groan and put his face in his hands.

Eddie laughed a little and felt his breath wheeze in his chest. “Oh shit. That makes s-sense…” He chokes out, his breath threatening to hitch again. “I can h-help you design a tattoo no p-prehh… problem snfff but I need some allergy meds f-fihh first because something is seriously s-setting me off.” He hitches his way through reassuring Steve and goes to dig in his cabinets for some Benadryl.

For a few moments, Steve looks stunned and is apparently too shocked to speak.

“W-Whhhiih…what’s the batter, Stevie?” Eddie asked, his sinuses swelling a little and congestion settling in to turn his m’s to b’s and n’s to d’s. “Dever heard of allergies b-beeh… eehHID’TsHHew! HeiSHEW! Ugh… fuck be…” He plucked a few tissues from the box on the counter to wipe his nose after sneezing into his elbow.

“No, it’s just- shit. I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. Are you allergic to pollen?” Steve asked anxiously and brushed his bangs back out of his face. When Eddie glanced back at him, Steve was still wearing that look like he was beating himself up internally, but he was more concerned than anything else.

Overly so in Eddie’s opinion, but maybe it was because he delt with this on the regular. “I’b allergic to everythi’g, Stevie. Is it a pladt that cad jizz? Thed I’b godda sdeeze add itch add wheeze…” He murmurs and rubs at his nose a little before finally pulling out the godforsaken bottle of Benadryl to down a dose with some water from his water bottle. ”Hiih’tshhuh! Huh… oh by god.”

The way Steve’s expression falls and crumples just about breaks Eddie’s heart. “Shit. Yeah. It’s my fault. I’m a florist. My job is making all the floral arrangements that get put on display or that people order.” He tries to smile softly at Eddie in a reassuring way.

“That bakes- hhii’DTshhuh! Ugh… so buch sedse.” Eddie mumbles, swiping at his nose and rubbing at it in rough circles with the tissue he’s got. His nose itches something fierce and his eyes are starting to get itchy and watery too. God, it makes him want to jump in a steamy hot shower for an hour to rinse the allergens out.

Steve was making to grab his things, looking like he was getting ready to leave. “I’m sorry. I really liked your work but if the allergies are too much I don’t wanna torture you, man…”

Panic rose in Eddie like a snake rearing its head to strike. Something in him didn’t want Steve to leave. He was so damn pretty, held good conversation, and Eddie still can’t place why Steve is familiar. Nope. Something in him tells him Steve can’t leave, not yet.

“D’no!” Eddie said quickly and moved around the tattoo table, knocking the tissue box to the floor in his rush. “Shit- uh d’no uh dod’t go. Seriously, I’b used to this. I- iihhxshhTsh! Fuck. I’b like this all spri’g, subber, add fall. Ask adyode. I cad work through this d’no probleb. I eved keep basks for whed I’b tattooi’g just id case.”

There was a look of uncertainty from Steve as he shifted his weight from foot to foot for a moment, “Your allergies are that bad? Do you get like… allergy shots or whatever? I hear those help.” He picked up the box of tissues off the floor to hand them back to Eddie who took them gratefully.

Eddie nodded when Steve asked if his allergies were that bad, his breath hitching unevenly again while his nostrils twitched. They were starting to get pink and irritated, plucking a few tissues as said nostrils twitched and flared while his breathing stuttered. “Uh-huhh… mmf. Yeah. Get allergy s-shots as ofted as I cad id allergy seasod, but I s-still- Hhxxshuh! Oh by god… sdeeze. Add adyway it’s widter dow. Usually, dothi’g to sdeeze or wheeze about buch udtil I h-hhhave to get the Christbas decoratiods out. Snfff!”

“I’m so sorry, Eddie. Really. If you’re not feeling up to this at all we can reschedule, and I can make sure to shower and wear freshly washed clothes?” Steve offers, still watching Eddie worriedly. There was an almost mom-like quality to how he was beginning to hover and now Eddie could see how he’d likely become the babysitter of some highschoolers.

He sniffled again and pawed at his nose a little, hoping to alleviate the itchiness deep within. “I’b a-aaah-alright really. Just sdeezy. I’b so used to t-this. As lodg as you’re dot freaki’g out. If you’re freaki’g out, by all beads, H-hhhharri’gtod…” He stepped back and made a grand gesture with both hands and bowed as if bowing the king out of court.

Then it clicked. Harrington. King Harrington. From high school. This was one of the preppy jocks from that group that tried to single out his little flock of misfits. He had been set to graduate before Harrington until he was held back twice. “EiiTSHHHuh! HeehDTSHHHEW! Ugh-”

“Woah, big sneeze,” Steve said, sounding impressed and almost cheering him on in a way. “Shit. Sorry. My roommate, Robin, and I have this running joke that’s like that. Every time one of us does something like yawn or burp or… I guess even sneeze and it’s big, we say that.” He chuckles bashfully.

A soft, sort of mushy feeling settles in Eddie’s chest, and he really can’t help himself.  This was surely not the same King Harrington from high school. “Okay, d’no that’s snff snffff ki’d of cute.” He snuffled against his sleeve and his nostrils twitch and flare again, making Eddie’s eyes squint and water as he begged for relief from the tickle. “Ugh.. fucki’g pladt sperb.” He grumbles and wiggles his nose. “Well, if you and your roobbate ever h-have a gabe of who sdeezes the bost coudt be id. Easy wid.”

Once again Steve’s face seemed to just color up such a brilliant shade of red that Eddie couldn’t even begin to describe. It was richer than just cherry or tomato red. “From uh… from what I’m seeing here I don’t doubt that. But you’ve never seen me with a cold.”

And that sounded like a challenge. Eddie was all about a good old fashioned challenge. “Oh yeah snff, Harri’gtod?” His eyelashes fluttered a little and his breathing hitched ever so slightly, a hand coming up to hover in front of his face. “H-hhhold that th-hhhiihh- thought-! Hih-! HiiTSHH! EhhTShhEW! Eheh… eh-? EhhptSHHEW! EhhKTSHHEW! Huh…”

“Holy fuck, big sneezes. Bless you!” Steve says in a soft sort of awe which makes Eddie laugh softly as he plucks some tissues to clean himself up. He clamped his ring covered hand over his mouth and nose and now it was a total mess which he was struggling to clean up.

Blowing his nose would probably help but with someone like Steve right there, Eddie didn’t exactly want to feel that unattractive. So, he settled for snuffling softly behind a tissue. “Thagks.” He mumbles, cringing at how congested he was getting as he pumped some hand sanitizer onto his hands, rubbing them together rapidly. “Alright. Tell be about these rudts of yours-”

The time flew by after Eddie started asking the right questions. Soon they had an intricately designed piece with many things Steve had listed that the kids did, liked, teased and joked about. Even some inside jokes were thrown into the tattoo. It was smallish. About coaster sized so maybe medium for a first piece.

Steve loved it. Adored it even. He was immediately sending pictures to his roommate who was texting back faster than Chrissy even did sometimes. The Benadryl had mostly kicked in and Eddie was still sniffling and sneezing though not as much. And he was still congested as hell.

“Eddie, really, this is… wow. And I get to have this? Like on my body?” Steve said with a smile that could light up even Eddie’s black, charred, dead heart.

Eddie chuckled quietly and sniffled, rubbing at his itchy nose some more with his wrist. “Uh-huh. All yours, big boy. I just get exclusive rights to tattoo it od you sidce I drew it.” He half jokes. It was a bit like… a code of honor. If one artist starts a piece, they should be the one to finish it unless they can’t. “EhhDTSHHEW! Huh… S’cuse be.” He mumbles and sniffled again, grabbing another tissue to wipe his nose which was now painfully red.

A soft smile crossed Steve’s face, “Bless you. You get to tattoo it on me, Eddie. No worries about that. You sure you’re okay? Don’t need me to get uh-?”

“Chrissy.” Eddie supplies his coworker’s name and shakes his head, curls bouncing again. “D’no. I’b fide. Seriously. I dod’t eved have buch od by schedule today. Snff snfff. Just two sballer tattoos add snfff… I’b hhhih… dode. I thigk snff Garret add Chrissy will udersta’d if I wadt to go hobe early add shower thed pass out.” He admits with a returned smile back at Steve, fighting off another tickle by scrubbing at his nose.

Again, Steve seems… uncomfortable somehow. Eddie seriously hopes all this sneezing isn’t majorly putting Steve off because fuck that would be just Eddie’s luck wouldn’t it? Find the perfect guy for once and he’s a total germaphobe. He suddenly has to yank his hoodie collar up to cover his face as the tickle overwhelms him. “IhhEXXTSHHUH! Oh by fugki’g god…”

Something like a sympathetic noise comes from Steve and he plucks a few tissues from the box to offer them to Eddie who takes them gratefully, hurriedly burying his face in them to- “HehhTSHhuh! Sorry for all the sdeezi’g. Snff. I probise I’b dot usually caught so- udprepared?”

“Eddie,” And god Steve’s voice is so soft when he says his name like that. “It’s alright. Seriously. I don’t mind the sneezing one bit.” He tries to insist but Eddie knows better. He likes to think he knows how to read people, it’s a survival skill at this point. Something he’d had to develop over time because Eddie Munson has no natural social skills.

Leave him alone in a room full of people and he’ll meld into the back wall. The only reason he’d been so loud and obnoxious in high school was to draw the attention of the jocks away from his group of misfits and onto himself. To keep them safe.

So, Eddie, being terrible at social skills as he is, rubs at his nose and sniffles some more. “N’do way, dude. I kdow it’s gross. You dod’t h-have to be polite to m’be.” He laughs it off like he can do most anything someone thinks is gross or weird about him. Even if it’s never quite true deep down.

And then Steve is doing that soft look again, like he’s concerned for Eddie in a way that only Chrissy or Garret (though he pretends not to) has ever been before. And well, obviously, his Uncle Wayne but he’s obligated to it doesn’t count.

Steve is opening his mouth to speak again but the tickle is burning through Eddie’s nose again so he hastily holds up a finger again to tell Steve to wait.

“H-hhhhold that t-thought, bi-ihh big boy exxshhtuh! Huh… N’gxxSHUH! Jesus. Whew. Okay, sorry. Codtidue.” Eddie was hastily swiping at his nose with the tissue he’d luckily caught his sneezes into.

There it is again. The discomfort. Eddie had hoped that making light of his predicament might help put Steve at ease, but it only seemed to make things worse. Guilt gnawed at him even if he couldn’t help it.

With a deep breath and what looked like a lot of effort on Steve’s part, the other man found his voice to speak. “You’re not gross, Eddie. Trust me. But I promise for our actual tattooing appointment I will wear extra clean clothes and come freshly showered so you’re not suffering again. Deal?” He extended a hand out with a smile to shake on it.

Eddie sniffled and grabbed Steve’s hand in a firm grip, rings clicking together. “It’s a deal, Harri’gtod. Ehh….EXT’shew! SnFF!” He’d ducked his face away from Steve to sneeze but still felt the other’s grip tighten so much more. “Sorry.” He mumbled and sniffled a little before facing Steve again.

“Don’t worry about it,” Steve says with a chuckle that sounds a little forced even if his hazel eyes are genuine. “I should get going. I’ve gotta take the kids to D&D at the library later tonight but they wanted to hang out after school.”

That perks Eddie up instantly. “D’no shit?” He laughs and smirks. “You ever stick around to watch the sessions?” He asked, already knowing the answer to that. He just hadn’t realized that flock of seniors were the same seniors he DMed for.

With a casual wave of his hand, Steve shook his head and Eddie swore he could see pollen come off Steve’s jacket sleeve when he moved that fast. “Nah. The kids love the game, but D&D was never really my-”

“EuhhTShhuh! Hept’SHuh! EISSHhuh! Fuck- sorry.”

“- thing… Bless you three times, Eddie.”

Eddie tried to make it not as big of a deal this time, but Steve still squirmed, and he wanted to curse himself. This was awful. Embarrassing himself in front of his brand new crush on his former high school bully. Even if Harrington had never really bullied him just… never stopped some of the others from it. Half the jocks picked on him while the other half knew better than to fuck with their dealer.

So, Eddie had always chalked it up to Harrington didn’t want to fuck up his relationship to his weed dealer.

With a sniffle and rubbing his wrist against his nose, Eddie stepped back to nod towards the shop exit. “I wod’t keep you thed, but you should stay add watch a sessiod sobe tibe. Bight chadge your bide od liki’g it… Okay, you better get to those twerps before you’re late.” He teases congestedly and puts on another smile for Steve, lifting his sketchbook. “I’ve got a desigd to idk add prep for you od Tuesday.”

Steve chuckles softly and nods, “Alright, alright.” He checks his watch, and his eyes widen. “Oh shit, it’s nearly two already. Yeah, thank you! So much, Eddie, really! I love it. I’ll see you on Tuesday!” And without much else said, Steve left his tattooing room in a rush while Eddie sniffled.

“See ya,” Eddie said with a wave.

It wasn’t maybe a minute later that Chrissy came rushing into his tattooing area with a wild grin on her face. “Eddie! It went well?!” But her face fell as she saw what an allergic mess he was. “Oh, Eds, sweetie- did you take allergy meds?”

With a wave of his hand, Eddie brushed her concerns off. “I did yeah. Already got it id be. I guess it wedt well? We talked for a lo’g while to bake sure we got his first tat right, y’kdow?” He explained to Chrissy, rubbing at his nose to itch it some but it makes an awful squelching sound.

Chrissy makes a face at the noise but shakes her head. “No, you idiot!” She looks positively thrilled to share this news with him. “Eddie, he was definitely hard when he left.”

A beat of silence.

“What?” Eddie asked incredulously and met Chrissy’s eyes. “You’re joki’g? You’re dot joki’g. D’no… you’ve gotta be fucki’g with be…”

Chrissy watched him as Eddie began to pace between her and the cabinets of his workstation. “I’m not- Eddie, what happened?”

“Ehh… EPTSH’uhh! Ugh… sorry. Okay this is godda sou’d crazy… but I thidk by dew cliedt is ki’d of idto by sdeezes.”

Link to Part 2

#snzfic #snz #snz kink #snzfucker #snzblr #sneeze kink #snz fet #snz writing #bex's snz writing #allergy kink #st/eddie #st/ranger th/ings #st/eve ha/rrington #ed/die mu/nson #allergy fic

[fuckin-sick-bih]

thinking about a modern steddie au (maybe tattoo artist eddie if i end up writing something?) where eddie is sick as a dog and steve is staying over to take care of him so eddie ropes him into watching the LOTR trilogy for the first time. they're stuck, might as well, right?

so of course eddie, sniffling and sneezing his way through the films, goes sharing all the nerd facts about the movies with steve.

"y'kdow snff! all of those hobbit hills were built like a year before filbi'g so it could all grow over?"

"no shit? they really prepped for this, huh?"

"oh yeah, h-hhh harri'gtod- h'xtshhiew! ugh, s'cuse b'me..."

"bless you, tissues?"

"yes, please"

#just bex talkin #snz kink #snz #st/eddie #st/eve ha/rrington #st/ranger th/ings #ed/die mu/nson #feel free to use this idea if it inspires you #lord knows i probably won't get to it it's just been rotting in my brain all night #l/otr #l/ord of the rings

[hockeynoses]

Thinking about this post and I'm interested in scenarios where somebody accidentally causes their partner to get sick as a result of their requests or demands or something similar.

For example, Ed/die begs or guilts St/eve into going to one of his concerts (he's been to a million before but this one is special), and then of course it rains and St/eve gets soaked. Ed/die is fine because he's up on stage and the stage is covered. (Lots of suspension of disbelief is needed, but I don't care!)

The next morning, St/eve wakes up congested and sneezy as fuck, and Ed/die has to deal with the guilt and do his best to make it up to him.

#snznarios #snz prompts #st/eve ha/rrington #other ideas are welcome! I was going to A and B the prompt but with the whole concert thing I just went for it

[hockeynoses]

Sick!Steve & platonic Chrissy: A College AU

Happy (Horny) Holidays!

Summary: Steve and Chrissy have a class together and Steve shows up with a terrible cold. The sequel is here!

Warnings: Mess, Contagion. 1.6k.

Notes: I wrote this as platonic Steve & Chrissy, but feel free to take it however you want. I felt like writing something from a woman’s perspective for a change. This is just another excuse to have Steve go through all my favorite kinky phrases about being sick. 😈

This story has two lines that pull from some posts on snzblr... One is from the “mess talk” post by sneezysubbyboi, and the other is the “I think I’m getting worse” post by poor-darling. Thank you for the inspiration!

---

Chrissy sits in the back of the lecture hall, idly doodling in her notebook. The desk next to her is empty, and she’s keeping an eye on the situation. Nobody has tried to sit there yet; at this point in the semester everyone sits in the same seats out of habit. She wonders what’s taking Steve so long.

They had met for the first time in class, had happened to sit next to each other on the first day. Since then, they’ve gotten to know each other well. Sharing notes, helping out with difficult homework assignments, and even collaborating on a group project.

The professor is so strict about attendance, and Chrissy really hopes that Steve isn’t about to blow this for himself. He already has close to the allowed max of no-shows.

Just as she’s about to get her phone out to text him, she sees him scurry over out of the corner of her eye.  He plops his backpack down on the floor, letting himself fall into his chair gracelessly. He’s nearly out of breath and must’ve run to get here on time.

“You made it!” Chrissy says, relieved.

“I did,” he says, still panting. “Thagk god.”

Now that she’s able to get a better look at him, she can see that his nose is bright red. His face is flushed from his run and the winter weather, but this seems like it might be something more.

He shrugs his jacket off, the shoulders dusted with snowflakes that have now melted into tiny damp spots. He runs a hand through his hair, grateful that it’s not too wet from the snow. Shivering the chill weather out of his system and soaking up the heat inside the lecture hall, he rubs his hands together to warm them.

“Did you run here?” she asks even though she knows the answer already.

“Yeah.” He sniffs and wipes his nose on the back of his hand. “I slept in by acciden’d. I cad’t believe I albost m’bissed another class.”

He does look tired, Chrissy thinks. The puzzle pieces start to slot together when Steve pulls out a full-sized box of tissues from his backpack and sets it on his desk.

“Um…” she says, eyeing the box curiously.

“Ugh, I amb so sick,” he says miserably, confirming her suspicions.

“Oh no!” She gives a sympathetic frown. “It does seem like there’s always something going around this time of year.”

“Yeah, like all of bmy roobmates are sick right n’dow,” he says as he pulls his first tissue from the box. “Itd was on’dly a matter of time’b.”

He takes a deep breath and blows his nose. Chrissy winces at the full, crackling sound. People are still chatting around them, so the noise isn’t carrying like it will when the class is silently listening to the teacher. Still, Steve doesn’t seem to be too self-conscious about it. Maybe he’s too sick to care at this point. Chrissy tries to imagine herself attending class with an entire box of tissues on her desk and doesn’t think she’d have the guts.

“Bad timing, with finals coming up,” she says.

“Right?” He drops the soiled tissue on his desk and reaches for another one. “I really don’d have time’b to be sick ri-ihhh-ght SNF right dow- hih’EHTSSCHHH!” She can hear the congestion gushing into the tissue and raises her eyebrows at him.

“Whoa, you really don’t sound good, Steve,” she says. “You should probably be at home in bed. Did you ask the professor about it?”

Steve wipes his chapped nose with the tissue a couple times. “D’no, I didn’t even try. You k’dnow how strict he is. Idt probably wouldn’t have worked and’yway. Heh…hh’ERSSSHHHoo!” He curls forward with the strength of it.

“You could have tried, at least…”

Gathering up the soggy tissues, he shoves them in an empty compartment in his backpack. He grabs his notepad and pen and sets them on what little space is left on his desk.

She hears the scrape of cotton against cardboard as he pulls another kleenex from the box in preparation. Giving another waterlogged sniffle and scrubbing his nose with his palm, he says, “I really couldn’t mbiss anod’ther class. I – heh…eh…hih’KKSSSHHHuh! Ugh.” He groans and clears his throat. “If I have to take this class againd I’ll lose mby bmind.”

“You sound so bad,” Chrissy says, “If I’d have known, I would have brought you tea or something.”

His glassy, tired eyes meet hers with a kind look. “Thaggs, Chrissy.” He keeps the tissue pressed to his nose as he snuffles into it. “I’ll be alrighd’t, though.”

“If you say so…” she says with a compassionate look. From what she already knows of Steve, he’s a strong guy and can power through a lot of stuff. She wishes he didn’t have to, though.

“I wend to the campus clinic to get checked out and they said it was juu-huhhh… hih… HA-AETTCCCHHuh!  SNF – Jusdt a bad cold.” That one looked particularly messy, and she watches him clean himself up before reaching for a fresh tissue to bury his nose into, unleashing a gurgling blow in an attempt to clear out his sinuses. She figures it’s a futile effort at this point.

“Ugh, sorry these are so b’messy. I can’t even do an’dything aboud idt.” He gives a productive sniffle, as if to prove his point. “I’ve been’d so stuffed up for like, days. Heh...ha-ERRIISSSHHHoo! ISSSHHH’IEW!” Two harsh sneezes covered successfully by a bundle of kleenex, followed by another long-suffering blow. The poor boy looks miserable.

A chair creaks to their right and they both look over. The guy who had been sitting in the desk next to Steve has gathered his things up and is sneaking off to a safer area far, far away. Steve pouts internally as his ego takes a hit, but he can’t really blame him. He turns back to Chrissy and they share a look.

“You probably don’t wadda sit so close to be. Nod whed’n I’b thi-ihhh-ss…ha… hih’ERRSHOO! …sick,” he finishes, groaning into the tissue.

“I’ll take my chances,” she says with a warm smile. Having grown up with siblings, there isn’t a lot that grosses her out, and at this point she doesn’t know how much difference a couple feet of distance would make anyway.

“If you’re sure,” he says with a liquid sniffle. “Ha-KISSHH-ahh!” Another relentless sneeze that ends on a long, drawn-out sigh. “’Scuse be,” he says, voice breathless and deep. He gives a couple soft blows into the mass of tissues before scraping back and forth at his damp nostrils.

“I really don’d wand to get anyond else sick because this is the worst cold I’ve -heh- ehhh-ver h-had- Hih’RIIISHHuh!” His head snaps forward into the waiting bundle of spent tissues. “SNF! Ugh, sorry. They’re really loud, too,” he says, right before a wretched noseblow that he seems surprisingly unconcerned about the volume of.

Chrissy’s eyes dart around the room, taking note of a couple judgmental glances directed towards him. She offers them an apologetic smile on his behalf. Steve, however, seems undaunted, his sorry state causing him to be distracted and blasé about the whole thing.

“At least at this poindt I’ve gotten preddy good at covering thebm.” Gesturing to the soaked tissues in his hand, he crumples them up into a ball before leaning over to hide them away in his backpack.

A laugh bubbles out of her. “Well, that’s something at least. Practice makes perfect?”

Steve nods, “And I’ve had a lod of pracdice.” Sitting back up, he drags the back of his hand under his raw nose, already dripping again. “It’s a good thing too… snrk because these are so fugking bmessy…iihh…” A hazy look crosses his face as he scrubs his palm across the tip of his nose, trying to dispel the pesky itch. “Shitd – ndot hiihh- agaidn!”  He fumbles for a tissue, cupping his bare hand over his face just in time to contain a wet, spraying, “Hih’KKISSH-ah!” that bursts out of him. “God, sorry, that one cambe out of nowhere.”

She barely gets a glimpse of his palm, covered in tendrils of mess before he’s able to mop it all up with a tissue. He sets the wet kleenex on his desk and closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers in an effort to massage the pressure out of his sinuses.

A glazed look crosses his features. “I thigk rudding here in the snow is m’baking by cold- heh… worse! …ehh… heh’EHRUSSHHoo! ihh’TTSCHH! hiiih’AETTCHHuh!” The full-bodied sneezes rip through him, leaving him gasping for breath. Not having enough time to cover, he’d twisted away from Chrissy, openly spraying the space to his right; the seat their classmate had luckily just vacated.

That guy dodged a bullet, Chrissy thinks as she tries to control the look of shock on her face.

“Shit, sorry!” Covering his face with his cupped hand, (A little late for that, she thinks,) he pulls two tissues from the box. He gets halfway through blowing his nose before he’s interrupted by another scraping double- “Hep’TSCCHOO!  Huh…heh’YEETTCHH’tshoo!”

He sighs, groaning in defeat, face still buried in the bundle of cotton. “Baybe I should justd keeb these over mby face this whole tim’be,” he says, gesturing with the already soggy bunch of tissues pressed to his face. “Mby dose is rudding so buch I don’t even have a choice- hih’EHTIISSHH!” The sneeze bursts from him so suddenly that he surely wouldn’t have been able to cover in time if he hadn’t already been doing so.

“I think that’s the only option you have left, at this point…” Chrissy says, settling in for what was sure to be an eventful lecture.

#snz fics #snzblr #st/eve ha/rrington #snzfic #snz fic #snzfics

[fuckin-sick-bih]

so i'm busy writing a cowboy thing but listen... rich boy steve harrington who rode horses and eddie munson who is very allergic to horses. don't let me write that AU or you'll never get me back, i think i might be snzblr's resident "horsegirl"

#just bex talkin #snz #snz kink #ed/die mu/nson #st/eve ha/rrington #st/ranger th/ings #st/eddie #fic ideas #i'm just yelling dumb ideas my brain comes up with while writing other things bc my hyperfixations want to MESH all the time

[fuckin-sick-bih]

i woke up late after night terrors all night so y'all get tiny unedited steddie while i pick at my "breakfast" enjoy:

"So you can appreciate a good car, but you can't take care of one for shit?" Eddie teased as he ducked under the hood of Steve's maroon BMW, clearing his throat a little as he tried to ignore the allergic tickle there.

Beside him Steve shifts on his feet a little, looking a bit glassy eyed now that Eddie really takes him in. Maybe it's just the way the sunlight hits him in that obscenely beautiful way. From this angle he can even see the stupid little pollen spores catching the light and how Steve's head tips back ever so slightly, eyes fluttering, and lips parting ever so slightly.

"HhhRSHHuh! Snff! No, I need you to do it because I woke up today and can't stop sneezing for some reason." Steve admits, digging a knuckle into one of his slightly red eyes.

A light scoff came from Eddie who returned to checking fluid levels first and foremost. "Well, it's spring, man. Allergy season. I took my meds this morning, did you?" The words come out matter of fact and docile, but his mouth feels dry and his heart his pounding. Focus. Focus on the car.

Another soft stuttering of breath before Steve whips away from him to sneeze openly at the ground. "HhhIShhuh! I don't have allergies." He protests, a little petulantly if Eddie is being honest with himself, but Steve wouldn't be Steve if he didn't get a little bitchy sometimes. He loves him for it.

"Mhm, sure, sweetheart. Sure you don't." Eddie straightens up, grabbing the red bandana from his back pocket to wipe off his hands before pulling Steve in for a quick kiss. "I can do a tune up if you stick around for a movie tonight, deal? And if you get tired of sneezing your head off you can have some of my allergy meds, pumpkin."

#snz #snz kink #ed/die mu/nson #st/eve ha/rrington #st/ranger th/ings #snzfic #allergies #pollen allergy #st/eddie

[fuckin-sick-bih]

Tattoos and Tissues pt 2!

Fandom: Stranger Things Summary: No Upside Down. Tattoo Artist and Florist AU. Hellfire meets at the library, numbers are exchanged, secrets revealed, and love is starting to bloom... CW: Slight mention of runny nose, arousal, and kink talk in this chapter. (also let me know if I ever miss stuff to tag here!) Word Count: 2.4k Author Note: So this is shorter than I would have liked and a bit more text-y? But it's a bit of a bridge chapter to get things to pt 3 which I'm sure is where everybody wants to be and I'm sure y'all can guess where we're going after reading this part. Bridge chapters are hard, man. Hopefully, there are enough comedic lines and sneezes to hold y'all over til part 3! Enjoy! Eddie is the bold and Steve is the Italics. MINORS DNI

Once Steve the hot pollen magnet was out of his shop, Eddie got better during the day. His appointments went off without a hitch and Eddie left early to shower, have a nap, and head to the library to set up for Hellfire that evening. It didn’t take long for his players to start arriving.

No sign of Steve though.

The session began and Eddie was animated as ever, especially after his nap. Near the end, when Eddie was slumped more on his throne leaning against one arm with his leg haphazardly thrown across the other arm. He was smiling to himself as the brats argued amongst themselves on what to do about the Demogorgon in their path, picking a little at the black nail polish that was starting to chip.

The library had the perfect setup for Hellfire. Their Storytime area was conveniently castle themed complete with a throne for the storyteller to sit in which was where Eddie sat now. And also… sometimes on the weekends to read to kids.

What? He was good at doing the voices!

“Children,” Eddie drawled out, pretending to sound annoyed. “I need an answer if you please. Today preferably.”

There was the sound of a door opening and closing somewhere in the distance and Eddie didn’t pay much attention to it as Lucas piped up to ask him something about what damage resistances the Demogorgon had again.

With a small roll of his eyes, Eddie didn’t even have to check his notes to know he was right, so he rattled it off without looking. “Cold, fire, and lightning, Sinclair… C’mon, man. This is why I tell you guys to take notes during sessions.” He insisted, blowing a lock of stray curls out of his face that had fallen down to block his left eye.

When he looked up, there in the distance stood Steve Harrington looking shocked to see him lounging in the chair amongst his party of children. “Well, I think your mom is here to pick you guys up so how about we call it here and you guys can take the week to plan? Deal? I’ll be nice like that.” He smirks at the group of teens and nods over at Steve, a few looking shocked to see him come inside.

Others were just shocked that Eddie knew Steve. Assuming Steve wanted to keep the tattoo a secret, Eddie simply rattled off that they knew each other in high school which wasn’t an outright lie. He knew of Steve. Who didn’t know of Steve The Hair Harrington? Or King Steve?

Steve made his way over and gave Eddie a sheepish wave. “So, is this why you said I should come to sit in on a session?” He joked, hands in his pockets as he waited for the kids to pack up.

Meanwhile, Eddie had started to pack up too. Albeit, slower than the kids to maybe get some more chatting time with Steve. Even if it already felt like his nose was starting to prickle and burn slightly from Steve’s close proximity. Still, a chuckle escaped him when Steve called him out on his reasoning for wanting Steve to come to sit in. “Yeah, kinda. Just thought it would be funny to see if you actually did what I suggested and I gotta say… I’m surprised you did.” He admits to the other, sliding his dice into their little baggie which he cinches closed to drop into his larger bag.

“Surprised?” Steve asked in amusement and raised a brow at him. “Did you think I’d just… intentionally do the opposite of whatever you were telling me to do?”

Eddie gives a small shake of his head, “No, I just thought you might be too cool for D&D is a-all.” His breath nearly hitched as the itch continued to grow the longer he was near Steve and Eddie brought a hand up to rub at his nostrils. After the information Chrissy had given him, it was like he could feel Steve’s eyes on him. Watching him. Zeroing in on him. It almost made the burning tickle feel worse.

Though his statement seems to spark a laugh from Steve which makes Eddie smile. God, that laugh is like music to his ears, and he suddenly knows he wants to hear it just as much, if not more, than his entire metal playlist. “Dude, I hang out and babysit a bunch of kids still in high school. I haven’t been cool since like… sophomore year when Billy Hargrove beat the shit out of me.”

That made Eddie wince and he was just about to reply when he suddenly sucked in a sharp gasp as the tickle peaked, a hand shooting up to pinch his nose shut. “Hiih-! NXG’TSh! Huh… sorry.” He rubbed at his nose a little to try and work away the ticklish feeling to no such luck. “Yeah, shit, I remember when you came in with your face all…” He made a vague gesture to indicate Steve’s face being swollen and bruised, his brown eyes watching the other man carefully.

Steve’s mouth was ever so slightly open, and he was staring at Eddie. He seemed to realize it after a few moments, his jaw snapping shut and his smile reappearing as he refocused. “Um yeah- yeah that sucked. My face and… jeez, everything hurt for days.” He admits, lifting a hand to rub the back of his neck.

There was a brief pause as Eddie shoved the last of his D&D supplies into his bag as the kids chatted amongst themselves. Eddie pressed his wrist to his nose, sniffling and feeling that tickle growing again.

“Were you okay once I left the shop?” Steve asked suddenly, making Eddie look up to find the other’s hazel eyes on him once more.

A chuckle left Eddie and he nods, “Yeah, yeah. Once you were gone I was fiiihh… iihhSHHew! HiiHESSHew! “ He held his long sleeve-covered wrist to his nose which was starting to run similar to his itchy eyes that were streaming a little.

From across the room, the kids had all turned to look at Eddie now with concern and confusion, but it was Max who piped up. “What’s wrong with you? You better not be getting sick because if you get me sick I swear, Eddie…”

“Relax, will you, Mayfield?” Eddie said with a sniffle and went rummaging in his bag for a tissue, surprised when he did find one. “I’m just allergic to your babysitter.” He joked while swiping at his nose.

The reaction from Steve was almost unnoticeable if he hadn’t been looking for it but the moment he said he was allergic to the other man he’d stiffened up. Almost like the first time someone had spanked Eddie. Then he pretty obviously shifted his weight, adjusting his jeans, and Eddie smirked to himself behind the tissue.

The rest of the party was back to conversing with themselves, so Eddie pulled a scrap of paper from his notebook to scribble out his cell number on it which he held out to Steve. “Realized I had your number fr-hih-! from the shop, but you didn’t have mine.”

“Oh.” Steve accepted the piece of paper, smiling a little at the devil horns Eddie had drawn over the ‘E’ in his name. “Thanks, Eddie. I’ll text you tonight after I get these gremlins home.” He jokes and gestured back at the group of teenagers behind him.

A sudden call for Steve from Will had the other looking back at said teenagers, “Steve! My mom is asking for an ETA.”

“Shit, alright, Will. Tell her ten minutes, and I’ll drop you off first. No, Dustin! No complaining.” Steve said sternly, already pointing a finger at the curly-haired teen who had just been about to protest since it meant he got dropped off sooner. “Sorry, Eddie, I gotta go, but I’ll text you!”

“IiiSHhuh! Ugh-” Eddie pawed at his nose with his knuckles again, wincing as his rings caught a little painfully at his pink and sensitive nostril. “Yep! Text me whenever, Harrington. I’ll be awake a while yet.”

Without much ceremony, Steve herded his flock of seniors into his car to begin dropping them off for the night. How they all fit, Eddie would never know.

. . .

It was just past ten thirty when Eddie’s phone vibrated against the couch cushions and the curly-haired man practically dove for it. A few missed tiktoks Gareth had sent him and then an unknown number with a text that read:

Hey! This is Steve from earlier at the shop and the library? Hope you’re feeling okay after everything today.

Eddie could have screamed outright in joy if his neighbors didn’t already hate him for playing guitar at all ungodly hours of the night. As it was he buried his face in the pillows of his couch, kicked his feet, and squealed. Once he had that out of his system, he sat back up and replied with:

steve! aw arent u sweet <3 im fine, big boy. once you and all your plant sperm is gone i stop sneezing eventually.

With the suspected knowledge Eddie had, true or not, it made the text he’d just sent feel almost like a flirt and he kind of loved it. Messing with Steve was kind of fun even if the other wasn’t into guys, but… well he had taken his number, hadn’t he? Or was he just being polite? Oh, shit. Eddie really hadn’t thought any of this through. Oh fuck.

Hardy har. But I am glad you’re okay. I was seriously worried about you for the rest of the day. And I hope seeing me at the library didn’t make it worse again.

That felt… sweet. And hadn’t Steve been sweet back at the tattoo parlor too? Especially about his sneezing, but well that was obvious as to why now. Somehow this felt like concern over Eddie beyond just whatever Steve happened to be into and some cold and blackened part of the tattooist warmed a little.

not too bad, some extra sneezes on my way home wont kill me. im waaay used to it. was totally fine by the time i got home.

Again, somehow it felt like throwing Steve a bone and seeing if he’d bring it back to trust him for more.

I’m glad you’re alright now. You know if you ever need anything, I’m happy to help out?

Eddie wasn’t sure what possessed him. Maybe the devil. Maybe fate. Maybe he was just too damn impulsive for his own fucking good and he was about to ruin a very good thing.

you sure youre not just asking so you can see me sneeze again? >:)

For a solid ten minutes, Eddie’s heart hammered in his chest, and he practically gnawed the corner off his pillow wondering if he’d done or said the right thing. He stared at his phone with growing dread. The waiting was killing him. What was Steve doing? Okay yeah sure Eddie had kind of maybe just dropped some weird fucking bombshell, but-!

The screen lit up and the plastic device vibrated almost angrily at him. This time, Eddie hesitated to grab his phone. He wasn’t sure he wanted to see Steve’s answer now that he thought about it…

Fuck. What gave me away?

Relief. Sweet fucking relief. Steve was receptive and Chrissy was right holy shit! Eddie stared at the reply from Steve debating what to say for so long that another came in.

I’m sorry. This is really weird. I hope I didn’t freak you out or anything like that.

That startled a laugh from Eddie and he immediately replied.

i was king of the freaks, steve. you cant freak me out. i think its pretty cute.

Cute? That’s new.

no one ever called you cute before?

No one has ever called me thinking sneezing is attractive cute before.

well theres a first time for everything, right? besides i like indulging in peoples kinks. its fun.

You’re a strange… strange man, Eddie Munson.

. . .

They texted on and off until Tuesday, the banter between the two becoming much more relaxed as time went on. Then early on a Tuesday morning, too fucking early if you asked Eddie, his phone went off. He groaned while trying to shuffle the blankets off over his head to find his phone buried somewhere in the sheets. Finally, his fingers knock into something hard and plastic and there’s a clatter as it goes skittering to the floor which makes Eddie groan.

He goes sliding half out of bed, tattooed skin becoming exposed to the chilly air as he pulls free from the heavy blankets he usually hides under. The chill of the morning air makes his skin pull tight and goosebumps appear across his flesh while he fumbles aimlessly under the bed for his phone.

The sudden shift from warm air trapped underneath his bed sheets to cold air outside of them makes his sinuses prickle like usual and Eddie’s no stranger to his usual bout of morning sneezes. Before even trying to read the texts, he waits. Lying there covered by just his bedsheets as the tickle grows until finally he sneezes uncovered into the air in front of him, “HiihEXTSHew! Hipt’shew! Et’shhhuh! Ngh…” He rubs a hand over his face while sniffling softly then checks his phone.

Hey, Eddie, I am SO sorry, but I think we have to reschedule the tattoo appointment. I was feeling a little iffy yesterday, but now I’m definitely not making it. I was really looking forward to it. Let me know what days are free and I’ll happily reschedule!

All at once his heart sank.

He rubbed at his eyes a little more, scrubbing the sleep from them. After a moment, Eddie pulls up the schedule on his phone to see what all he’s got going on today. Just… Steve and open for walk in’s which… Something between a whine and a groan escapes Eddie as he makes a decision before texting Chrissy and Gareth he won’t be in today since his appointment is rescheduling.

If Steve was going to go waking him up before his alarm did then he was going to suffer the consequences. And well… Eddie had a crush and a soft spot for the guy. Without further ado, Eddie rolled himself out of bed with a shiver to start getting dressed so he could make a run to the store for some supplies before gracing The Ailing King with his presence.

Link to Part 3

#st/eddie #st/ranger th/ings #ed/die mu/nson #st/eve ha/rrington #snz #snz kink #snzfic #snzblr #snzfucker #bex's snz writing #tattoos and tissues

[butyoumakemesohot]

so. here are about 2k words of miserable, sick!st/eve that i wrote last night. this was inspired by this post by @theygotaches and this post by @stormyweaver.

keep in mind that this is the grossest thing i've probably ever written, so if mess isn't your thing maybe don’t read this!

(this goes for all of my fics, but since this one is pretty descriptive, i want to reiterate that minors should NOT interact. thank you!)

For once, Steve is grateful that his parents are almost never home.

Most other people in his condition would likely have an opposite reaction, but when Steve is sick, being coddled is the last thing he wants. Especially when he’s this level of disgusting. The mere idea of anybody seeing him so stricken down by a head cold, barely able to move his head without setting off another wave of thick congestion and loud sneezes, makes him want to die of embarrassment.

Which is why he’s laying as still as possible on his living room couch, absently watching a movie he stole - borrowed - from work. His nose has been wet and dripping ever since he woke up, thin mucus tickling his sensitive sinuses and threatening to leak from his nostrils. He scrambles for the box of tissues on the coffee table, plucking one out and cupping it over his face in anticipation.

“Hehhh… Hh’TDSCHHh! Hp’TCHHew! Guh… *snrff!*”

He reaches for another tissue, blowing his nose with all the strength he can muster right now – which isn’t much. He briefly regrets not keeping a tally of how many times he’s sneezed since he woke up a couple hours ago. It has to be at least a hundred at this point. He’s sure of it.

By noon, Steve’s head is filled with so much cold that his nose is basically nonfunctional – he can’t smell, can’t breathe, can’t even blow his nose due to the heavy congestion that’s completely blocked his nasal passages. He settles for knuckling at his damp nostrils every few minutes, a half-hearted attempt at easing some of the swelling in his sinuses.

The phone in the hallway rings. He’s half-asleep, convinced the sound is part of some weird fever dream until it stops, then starts again. He groans loudly, kicking the blanket off his legs.

“I’b cobig, I’b cobig. *snrk!*”

He sits up slowly – a fruitless endeavor, as his head is already swimming feverishly the second it leaves his pillow. He shuffles into the hall, massaging his leaky nose with a wad of tissues he grabs on his way there, and manages to pick up the phone just before it stops ringing again.

“Harrig’tod residedce.”

“Steve?” 

It’s Robin. He’s amazed at how perky her voice sounds in comparison to his, sluggish and hoarse due to an increasingly sore throat. He sniffles thickly, noting that his nose is a bit less clogged now that he’s standing upright.

“How bady other Harrig’tod’s do you kdow?”

“The Steve Harrington I know doesn’t sound like he’s just been hit by a truck, smartass.”

He supposes that’s fair. He sets the phone down just in time to catch a few deep, wet coughs in the crook of his elbow, caught off guard by their ragged intensity. He quickly tries to catch his breath, running a hand underneath his nose with a stuffy sniffle.

“Did you call just to idsult be, or do you actually deed sobethig?”

“I was calling to see why you aren’t at work, but I think it’s pretty obvious.”

Oh, shit. Today’s Sunday – not Monday – which means his shift at Family VIdeo started a few minutes ago.

“Fuck, Robid. *snnrf!* I’b so sorry.”

“Don’t be, dude. You sound really out of it.”

That’s an understatement, he thinks. He’d probably never admit it out loud, even to Robin, but he’s absolutely miserable.

“Do you need anything? I can swing by on my break –”

“Doe, doe, I’b fide,” he insists automatically, feeling an all-too-familiar tickle return to his lower sinuses. He sniffles, knuckling his right nostril desperately. “Just do be a favor ad tell Keith that I - hehh… Hah’ESCHHh! Hh’TSCHHHhh! Ugh, excuse be. *snxxxt!*”

“Bless you,” Robin says, an air of nonchalance to her voice. She doesn’t seem to mind how wet and disgusting his sneezes sound; if she does notice, he’s grateful that she doesn’t say anything.

“Don’t worry, I’ll just tell Keith your grandma died or something.”

He chuckles. “Thangks, Rob. *snurf!* … *snuurfgg!* … Sorry, give be a bidute.”

He sets the phone down before Robin can even respond. It’s evident that the sneezes mixed with being on his feet for the first time all day have dislodged something in his sinuses – something that’s already begun leaking onto his upper lip. He brings his tissues to his nose and blows hesitantly, finding himself so suddenly desperate to expel whatever he can from his aching nostrils that he folds the tissues over and musters up enough strength to blow harder, long and gurgling and ending with a punctuated wet honk that makes him wince.

“Sorry about that,” he says again once he’s picked up the phone. He knows he shouldn’t be so disappointed when the familiar feeling of congestion refills his nose, but he definitely is. Blowing his nose so harshly also seems to have made his sinuses swell up even more. He groans inwardly. So much for that.

“Geez, Harrington, were you trying to blow your brains out or something?”

“Accordig to you, I dever had braids to begid with.”

“That’s true.” He can hear the smile in her voice. “Now go eat something. I have a strong feeling you’ve just been laying on the couch all day feeling sorry for yourself.”

Steve rolls his eyes, despite the fact that she can’t see him doing so and despite the fact that they both know she's right. They say their goodbyes, and he scrambles to hang up just before unleashing a few more harsh sneezes that catch him by surprise, spraying the air in front of him with a thick cloud of mucus.

“Heh’SCHHHhh! Heh’SCHHiew! Hehhh… Hh’TSCHHH! Guh…”

He scrubs at his nose with the heel of one hand, the wad of tissues in the other far too damp to be used again. His nose is completely full again, a painful heaviness that stubbornly returns to the center of his face. Eating seems damn near impossible, but maybe the steam from some soup will loosen him up.

Maybe.

–

Steve wakes up in his bed a few hours later, and he knows he’s out of it because it takes a few seconds for him to recall how, exactly, he got there in the first place. After a poor attempt at bending over a bowl of soup without having to wipe his running nose every thirty seconds, he gave up after a few bites and trudged up the stairs, missing the comfort of his own bed. 

If Robin were here, she’d be disappointed at the fact that he hadn’t finished his food. He feels a twinge in his chest. Maybe she was right earlier - maybe he really doesn’t know how to take care of himself.

He resolves to pull himself out of bed, a bit wobbly on his feet.

“Okay, Harrig’tod. *snrrrf!* Tibe to get up.”

He doesn’t remember much from his childhood, but he does have a distinct memory of his mother instructing him to inhale steam from a pot of water on the stove when he developed a sinus infection one summer. He even copies his mother’s movements as they come to him now, grabbing the largest pot he can find in his kitchen and filling it up until it almost becomes too heavy to carry.

In hindsight, telling a kid to stand over a boiling pot of water probably wasn’t the safest thing to do, but he remembers it working pretty well. 

He doesn’t want to take his temperature, but there’s nothing better to do while he waits for the water to heat up. After an agonizing few minutes of struggling to breathe around his clogged nose, he pulls the thermometer from his chapped lips and squints at the mercury level. 100 on the dot. He feels like it should definitely be higher.

“Hh’USHHHeww! Oh, fuck... *snrffgg!* … Hh’PTCHHiew! H’ehTSCHHH!”

Sneezing only serves to refill his nose with the terrible, thick gunk that makes his sinuses feel like heavy, wet cement. Luckily, steam has just begun to rise from the pot of bubbling water; he grabs the blanket he brought down from his bedroom and tents it over his face, rushing to stand in front of the stove.

“Hurry up already…” he says gruffly, although at this point it’s only been about twenty seconds of inhaling steam through an impossibly blocked nose. He likes to think that anyone in this position - suffocated by a thick wall of steam and their own snot - would feel just as impatient as he does.

He notices a difference in his chest first; the rattling congestion that he hadn't even realized was there tapers off a bit after a couple minutes of ragged breathing. He coughs tentatively, ignoring the persistent ache in his chest in favor of the lack of mucus in his throat. Baby steps.

His nose is a different story. While the steam has aided in soothing his sore, irritated nostrils and dry, chapped lips, that stubborn thickness still remains lodged in his swollen sinuses. He closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose and massaging in small, slow circles over the areas that feel the most plugged up. He takes another deep breath through his nose, steam tickling the edges of his pink, sensitive nostrils. Oh, no.

“Hhhh… Ehhh…” Steve turns away from the pot of water at the last possible second, succumbing to the tickly wet mucus that has begun trailing down both sides of his nose. “Heh’TDSHHH! Hh… Hh’PTSCHHHH!”

The second sneeze sends a stream of watery congestion flying out of of his nose, two strands of clear mucus hanging from each nostril and across his upper lip. He barely has time to try to wipe his face before another series of violent sneezes wracks through his body. “Hah’TCHHHhh! He’SHHHHOO! Hh’SCHHHEW!”

A much longer string of snot bursts free from his sinuses this time, thick and dangling all the way down to his chin. Steve pinches his nose instinctively, rubbing his nostrils with a series of wet squelching sounds before wincing at the mess on his fingers.

“Fuuuuck me… *snxxxggt!*”

He finds the closest thing he can use in lieu of a tissue - a kitchen towel - and quickly cleans himself up. His nose is definitely clearer than it was when he woke up this morning, but his nostrils are still sore and tender, upper lip already rubbed raw even though he’s only been sick for less than a day. He shuts the stove off and breathes in the remaining steam, his sinuses making small gurgling sounds as he inhales.

He finds a fresh box of tissues in the downstairs bathroom, ripping it open with urgency and blowing his nose. He doesn’t have to blow very hard for the sticky congestion to come bubbling out of his nose, quickly soaking through to his fingers. He grabs a thicker wad and blows two or three more times, not fully satisfied until his nose feels completely clear. He washes his hands with a grimace, wondering if there’s any real point to it – he’s probably already infected every inch of space in this house with his germs.  

He tucks the tissue box under his arm, suddenly exhausted and desperate to fall back asleep while he can properly breathe through his nose. However, he only manages to make it a few steps up the stairs when the hall phone starts ringing again. He practically has to force himself back down to answer it, but he knows Robin would probably come over and tear his front door of its hinges if he didn’t.

“Dod’t worry, Buckley. I’b dot dead yet.”

“Oh, um. It’s actually me.”

Steve’s breath hitches, eyes widening in realization. “Eddie?”

“The little birdie told me you were sick. It’s not that I don’t believe her, but I guess my curiosity - and my grave concern - got the best of me.” Eddie’s voice is light and playful. It would make Steve smile if he weren’t so out of it.

As if it wasn’t already evident by Steve’s voice, Eddie very politely asks, “So, how are you feeling, Harrington?”

He tries to ignore it, but the swollen feeling in his sinuses is slowly being overtaken by a fresh wave of mucus, filling up his nose so quickly that he knows it would be impossible to try and do anything about it. He thought he’d have a little more time before he became so stuffed up again, but he’s already back at square one. He wants to cry, or scream, or slam his head into a wall to distract from the painful, bulging feeling in his face.

Maybe it’s that - or maybe it’s the fact that he's finally fed up with lying about how he truly feels - but Steve doesn’t even try to hide the sickly defeat in his voice when practically whimpers, “Like absolute shit. *snrrff!*”

#sneezefic #snzfic #snzario #snzblr #snz kink #colds #sickfic #st/ranger th/ings #st/eve ha/rrington #sh #st #my fics

[butyoumakemesohot]

hellooooo! i really wanted to write a little something inspired by all the posts about steve i've been seeing recently so here it is! i basically rewrote that scene in s4 with a few ~twists~ (1.3k words)

(for more, please check out this amazing fic by my beloved @softsnzstuff that's about s3 steve! <3)

-

Steve can't stop shivering.

His feet are bare, his neck is sore, the makeshift bandages tied around his waist are already darkening to a deep crimson, and he can't. Stop. Shivering. He drags a tired hand over his face, losing another battle against a shiver that runs down his spine as he narrowly avoids a vine slithering across the ground.

"I'm gonna say something, Harrington, and I mean this in the nicest way possible," Eddie tells him. He's only walking a few feet in front of him, but Steve still has to squint to be able to see him through the particles of dust and mold and whatever other gross shit infests this place.

Steve rolls his eyes, teeth chattering. "Lay it on m'be."

"I didn't think you could look any more pathetic, but after the shit you just pulled with the lake and those freaky demonic bats, let's just say you've succeeded."

"*snrrff* What do you m'bead?" He knows exactly what Eddie means. He sniffles again, a bit quieter this time, swiping the heel of his hand beneath his nose.

"Please, man. It's obvious you've been sick the past couple days." He shines his flashlight towards Nancy and Robin, who are walking just a few yards ahead. "Those two have been fawning over you the entire time."

He's right: between all the Victor Creel discourse and the Max check-ins and the occasional ability to actually catch some sleep, Steve's friends have been diligently checking on him. Even the little ones - although he supposes they aren't so little anymore - have been eyeing him warily, silently making sure his illness doesn't develop into something more serious.

As far as Steve knows, it's still just a head cold. But after spending about half an hour traipsing through the Upside Down and having one too many brushes with death... well, he definitely feels much worse for wear.

Still, his stubborn need to deflect kicks in. "What? N'do they h-hhaved't... Hhuh'ESCHHHh! Ugh..."

He grimaces at the sudden, sharp pain in his abdomen, stopping in his tracks to catch his breath. Eddie's hand lands sympathetically on his shoulder, stays there until Steve's ready to walk again.

"Gesundheit." Eddie gives him a half-hearted smile. "And relax, it's not a bad thing. In fact, between that and the way they totally just hopped through a gate to hell to save your ass, well... you've got me convinced you're no longer the guy you were in high school."

Steve sniffles thickly, trying to ignore another harsh tickle that enters his sinuses. "You m'bead - *snffg* - a total douchebag?"

"I didn't say that."

"You did't have to."

"Dude, will you quit getting so defensive?"

"He always gets in a mood when he's sick," Robin chimes in from up ahead. There's a certain smugness in her voice that makes Steve roll his eyes again. "Don't take it too personally."

"Hh'ESSCHh! Hehh'TSCHHH! Hh'tSCHHHh!" He lets out a soft, pained groan as he nearly goes blind from the rush of pain in his side, his eyes squeezed shut. "Ouch."

"Bless you." It's Robin's turn to say it this time. She makes sure he opens his eyes again, waits for him to flash her a quick thumbs-up before linking arms with Nancy, resuming their conversation in a hushed tone.

Eddie's the one to stop first this time. His eyes flicker between Steve's hardened face and the way he's got his hand pressed tight against his abdomen, loosening his grip only when the pain starts to dissipate. Steve should probably feel more self-conscious over the fact that Eddie's been closely analyzing him ever since they arrived in the Upside Down, but for some reason, he doesn't seem to mind.

"Sorry," Steve says, voice lowered. Robin and Nancy carry on up ahead, out of listening distance. "I... *snnff* I kn'dow wered't tryi'g to..."

"Hey, it's all good." Eddie pats him on the shoulder again. "Although, you should know I'm not one to pass negative judgment on people I don't know very well."

Steve grins. "Except for whed you sta'd on ludch tables and hurl idsults at people, right?"

"Shit, did Henderson tell you about that? That little -"

"Hah'ESCHHH-unhh.." Steve winces as he stumbles forward a bit, clutching at his bandages again. How he manages to avoid tripping over a vine, he has no idea. "Hh'tSSCHHh! God dam'bn it."

"Shit. Bless you. Uh, hang on." Eddie digs in his back pockets until he's able to produce a black bandana, waving it in front of Steve with a dramatic flourish.

"Here you go. It's..." He wrinkles his nose, "not completely wet?"

Steve chuckles, only accepting the piece of cloth in good faith. After all, he doesn't want Eddie to witness him doing something completely disgusting like blowing his nose. He should probably explore those feelings later. "As lo'g as it's clead. *snuurf!*"

"I mean, if you exclude all the strands of hepatitis that are probably swimming around Lover's Lake."

"Dude, gross."

They start walking again, maintaining a good distance behind the girls up front. Eddie saddles up next to Steve, absentmindedly brushing his leather-clad arm against Steve's bare shoulder. Yeah, he's probably gonna think about that later, too.

"Anyways," Eddie carries on. "All I'm saying is, you're not exactly the person I expected you to be."

"Yeah. N'deither are you." Steve mindlessly scrubs at his nostrils with the bandana, snuffling back some of the wetness in his nose. "I guess we - *snrrrf* *snff* - dod't really kn'dow each other that well, huh?"

"Well, then, time to rectify that."

The longer-haired boy smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a kind-hearted way that immediately proves Steve's point. Especially as he sticks a hand out, comically wiggling his eyebrows.

"The name's Edward James Munson Jr.," he says, putting on a deeper, more formal voice. "but my friends usually just call me Eddie."

Steve smirks. "Dice try - Hehh- Hh'ASCHHHh! - but you're dot getti'g m'by full n'dambe out of m'be."

"Damn it."

"Also, there's n'do way I'mb shaki'g your hand."

"What? Why?"

"I dod't - hhhh - wadda get you sick. *snfffg* - Ugh, ha'g od."

Steve comes to a sudden stop, doubling over from a couple more harsh sneezes. He can feel Eddie's hand on his upper back as he mirrors Steve's position, bent over just enough to get a good look at his face.

"We all just spontaneously swam through some gooey portal to the underworld," Eddie says, his smile growing wider, "and you wanna lecture me about health and safety?"

Steve blinks his eyes open, letting out a soft laugh once he meets Eddie's gaze. He's right. Again. This is all absolutely insane. And to top it off, he can't go five minutes without sneezing.

Which is why he decidedly sticks out his hand, sniffling softly. "Steve. Uh, also kn'dow'd as form'ber douchebag, but m'by frie'ds usually just call me Steve."

“You sure? I’ve heard a couple other nicknames this past week that aren’t so kind.”

“Oh, hush.”

Something softens in Eddie's eyes when their hands meet. Steve squeezes with a firm, instinctive shake - just like his dad caught him - while Eddie continues to stare at him, looking like he has something else he wants to say. Steve barely has time to memorize any of the other boy's callouses or pulse points before he has to yank his arm back to cover his face again.

"Hh'EHHSCHHh! Nnnhh..." God, this sucks. "Hahh'TSSCHHH!"

Steve mops up his running nose with the bandana again, clutching his side with his free hand. Eddie claps him on the back again.

"Blessings and tidings, Steve-o," he says. His eyes are still closed as he waits for the pain in his abdomen to subside, but Steve can hear the sound of leather shifting and crinkling from where Eddie's stood. "Now man up and take my other jacket. You're still shivering, you know."

#snzfic #snzblr #sneeze fic #sneezefic #st/ranger th/ings #st/eddie #st/eve ha/rrington #ed/die mu/nson #kkb #<- we are a collective unit