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marvelousstevetony · 4 years

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Hi! I was just wondering if for the emotions prompt thing, you could do insecure Steve. With Steve being nervous about Tony thinking he is gross when he’s sick? Maybe he’s worried because another avenger in the tower was sick and Tony seemed disgusted by it... so Steve assumes Tony will feel the same about him? If that’s too specific, feel free to do whatever with insecure :) Thank you for your writing! :)

Ahh, anon, it’s not too specific at all! This prompt is so soft and so so sweet. I’m sorry I’m taking so long to answer these prompts, but I’ve beens super busy lately. I hope you see this and enjoy this little ficlet <3

3.1k, steve/tony

***

“Don’t you think you’re being a tiny bit… overdramatic?” Bruce asked cautiously.

“What? This?” Tony gestured to the medical mask he was wearing, as well as the plastic gloves and the disinfectant spray he held defensively in front of him. “Absolutely not.”

It was Friday evening and the entire team was gathered, for once, which could only mean one thing — team movie night. It had become a routinely thing for them, and every movie night seemed the exact same. They always watched something different, but everything else was just like it used to be.

Well, almost everything.

During the first couple of movie night, every team member had found their regular seat. Nat had quickly call dibs on the large armchair closest to the kitchen. Bruce had claimed the second armchair that stood on the opposite side of the sofa, and though Thor was often off-world doing off-worldly stuff, he would usually sit in the bean bag whenever he was at the Tower. The sofa was occupied by Clint, Tony and Steve; Clint in the end closest to Nat, Steve in the other, and Tony was squeezed in between them.

It had been like that since they established team movie night, but this time, Tony was going to break the tradition.

“Tony,” Steve sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Please, just sit down.”

Steve tapped the empty space in the sofa next to him and sighed yet another time when Tony grabbed a spare chair and put it next to Bruce.

“I am,” Tony said as he sat down in the solid, uncomfortable seat with a thump, “sitting down.”

“Tony,” Steve said again, this time with an exasperated tone.

Tony just quirked a brow and eyed his usual spot with disgust. “You’re dead wrong if you think I’ll sick next to patient zero over there.”

As if to prove Tony’s point, Clint wrinkled his nose and coughed harshly into his fist. Steve looked sympathetically at the archer and scooted over, filling the place Tony normally would. “Then we’ll switch seats,” Steve said persuasively.

Tony went quiet, gaze flickering between Clint, Steve, the empty seat next to his boyfriend and the wooden stool he sat on. After a few seconds of deliberation, Tony seemed to have made up his mind.

“I guess that’s… negotiable,” he drawled, but he had already started moving towards the sofa, and when Steve lifted his arm for Tony to fit under, the brunette cuddled in close. Steve smiled in victory and pressed a kiss into Tony’s soft, messy hair.

Tony sighed contently against the warmth of Steve’s body, suddenly feeling sleepy, and he let his eyes fall shut. Just a few seconds later, however, Tony took a peek at Clint through narrowed eyes.

“I’m keeping the mask and gloves, though.”

***

The next morning, Tony was called to an SI-meeting in Tokyo. He and Steve had only been together for about two months, officially dating at least, but Tony was already in so deep that he couldn’t picture not sleeping next to Steve for an entire two nights. Steve had chuckled at him and kissed his pout away, wishing him a safe flight.

On Monday, the day Tony was going to be back in New York, Steve woke up with a sore throat and a stuffy nose. His head felt fuzzy, like it had been stuffed with cotton, and his vision seemed to blur when he sat up a little to quickly.

He reached for his phone, then blinked rapidly and turned down the brightness, his sensitive eyes still not fully adjusted to being awake. When he could see somewhat clearly, he saw a message from Tony.

Good morning, handsome. Can’t wait to see you tonight. Might be late for dinner but I’ll be home before bedtime. xx

Steve smiled, looking forward to being cuddled up in bed with Tony after a couple of nights of sleeping in a bed that was far too cold and far too large despite Steve’s super-soldier sized body. Then, suddenly, a cough rattled through him, and Steve bent over a the waist with the force of it, and he was left wheezing slightly.

It felt familiar; Steve could never forget feeling this way, this fatigued and feeble.

He was sick and he internally cursed Barton, positive that he’d spread his germs during movie-night. But then Steve remembered that he was the one to voluntarily sit next to his cold-ridden team member and basically placed himself directly in the risk zone.

Steve sighed heavily. Maybe he should’ve taken a page out of Tony’s book and worn a mask.

***

“uhhTSCHooosh! Ugh, excuse mbe.”

“Bless you,” Natasha said, an off-hand comment as she continued looking at mission files, but she nudged the tissue box closer to Steve when he kept sniffling into the cuff of his hoodie.

Steve grabbed a tissue and scrubbed at his nose with it, sighing a stuffy thanks into the material. He blew his nose quietly to stop the sniffles, but it only seemed to intensify the lingering itch. He could feel it burning all the way from the back of his nose, but it seemed stuck, leaving him with teary eyes and a series of false starts.

“h’ehh! ehh- snff! Uh- h’uh!”

Steve’s breath caught, the itch now filling his entire head, and he shook his head uncontrollably, trying to impede the sneeze, or coax it out, it didn’t really matter. All he wanted was to get rid of the irritation, one way or another. And after a few seconds, the tickle grew stronger, his nose twitched violently once, twice, and then he drew in a sharp breath.

“uhhhISH’uhh! huhHIISHHoo! USHHiew!”

Steve sighed, satisfied when his head was cleared from the buzzing sensation, but he felt bleary and snuffly after the forceful sneezes.

“Geez, Rogers, you’re a mess.” Natasha looked up from the files with a concerned expression. “Bless you.”

“I know… sorry,” Steve said shyly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I think I picked up Clint’s cold.”

“You think?” Natasha raised an eyebrow and smirked, but it was good-naturedly and her eyes were kind. “From what I can tell, this seems worse than what he had, though.”

“Yeah, I, uh, snff! I don’t think I’ve had a cold this bad since before the serum.” He tried to recall when he last felt like this, like he might pass out from exhaustion, even though he hadn’t moved all day, but he just remembered the times when Bucky had taken care of him before the war. “I’m alright, though.”

“Sure you are, tough guy,” Natasha grinned as she stood up and dipped down to squeeze Steve’s shoulder as she headed towards the kitchen. “So, what kind of tea do you like?”

***

“Sorry, Cap,” Clint said, sounding genuinely apologetic as Steve recovered from a coughing fit.

Steve shook his head and swallowed a sip of water from the glass Clint had given him as soon as he’d started coughing. “Not your fault,” Steve croaked, his voice raspy.

Natasha took a bit of her apple and leaned across the kitchen isle, glaring at Steve with examining eyes. “I still don’t get it. You were fine last night.”

Steve shrugged and ran a hand over his face. “I guess it just hit me all at once.”

Clint just hummed, and Natasha frowned, but didn’t say anything for a while.

“I think I might go to bed,” Steve announced after a few moments of quiet. Natasha and Clint exchanged a look Steve was too tired to even try to interpret what meant. He pushed his chair back from the table and stood up, crossing the kitchen to put his glass in the dishwasher.

“Bed? It’s 7:30, we haven’t even had dinner,” Clint pointed out.

“I’m not really hungry. I think I just need to lie down a little,” Steve said and smiled tiredly, trying to look like he was still a functional human being even though he was sick, but failing miserably with his bright red nose, watery eyes and slumped posture.

“You sure?” Natasha asked. “We can make soup for dinner, it’ll be good—”

Steve shook his head. “Sorry, I’m just not hungry… thanks, though. Really.” He smiled at them again and walked out of the kitchen, turning left around the corner.

“Uh, Cap?” Clint called out, confused. When Steve’s head popped back into view, he continued. “Your rooms is the other way, pal. You sure you’re okay?” Clint’s tone was light and jokey, but behind it was a thick layer of concern.

“Oh, yeah… Yeah, I’m just going back to my old quarter.” Steve pointed a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the room Steve had slept in before he officially moved into the penthouse with Tony.

“Why?” Natasha asked, also confused.

“I, um… Tony’s coming back tonight and I just… God, it’s so stupid.” Steve chuckled self-deprecatingly. “I just don’t want him to see me like… like this. Everyone saw how disgusted he was when Clint was sick, and now I’m the one who’s all gross and germy and…” he trailed off as Clint and Natasha looked at him with soft expressions.

“Steve, if you think Tony’s going to break up with you because you’re sick then you’re an even bigger idiot than I thought,” Natasha said, voice somewhere between sincere and exasperated.

“… I’m too tired to take offence to that,” Steve sighed. “I’m not worried about him breaking up with me, he’s not a monster… he’s coming back from Tokyo and he’s probably exhausted, and he definitely doesn’t want to have to deal with… all this.” Steve made a vague gesture to his face and completed his sentence his a sniffle.

He sniffled again, and as if on cue, his nose twitched. Holding a fist loosely in front of his face, he jerked to the side and let out two throat-scraping, congested sneezes.

“hrruuushhh! Hrrushch!”

“Bless you,” Natasha and Clint said in unison. Steve acknowledged the blessing with a nod and reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumbled tissue to sniffle into. He looked absolutely miserable, his nose chapped and raw, cheeks flushed from fever and his eyes were glazed over and completely drained from energy.

“Look, Steve… I’m positive Stark won’t mind, and if he does, then that’s his problem. It has nothing to do with you, and everything to do with his own messed up mind, okay?” Natasha’s eyes were wide, and her eyebrows were drawn into a frown that said do you understand? It softened, though, when she watched Steve duck his head and his lips curl upwards.

“Thanks, you guys,” Steve mumbled in a small, fond voice.

“You sure about that soup, though? Or tea, tea would also be-“

“Not hungry,” Steve repeated, almost sounding sorry. “I’ll head up then. And, uh, thanks… again.” He smiled faintly and walked out of the kitchen. A few moments later, the two spies heard the ding! that sounded form the elevator heading for the penthouse.

***

“Honey, I’m home!” Tony called out as set down his briefcase before toeing off his shoes and loosening his tie. He sighed contently at the mixture of the relief of being home and the thought of finally getting to cuddle up next to Steve. When his boyfriend didn’t answer, he called out again. “Steve?”

Looking at his watch, Tony frowned. It was barely 10 pm, which was a lot earlier than the time usually went to sleep. He went to check the bedroom anyways, but the bed was empty and unmade, which… that was odd, because Steve always made the bed.

He wasn’t in the bathroom either, so Tony went back to the living room, and… oh.

On the sofa, lying in a nest of pillows and blankets, was Steve. One could only guess at how Tony had missed that when he walked in, but he was tired and jet-lagged, so he excused himself. He went over to examine the den and smiled adoringly down at Steve. His face barely peaked out from the cocoon he was wrapped up in, but Tony could clearly see the relaxed expression on his face.

Groaning as he sat down next to the sleeping soldier, Tony rubbed a hand up and down what he thought to be Steve’s arm. He couldn’t quite tell, though, through all the layers, but he kept smoothing his hand over the blankets until Steve’s eyes slowly fluttered open.

“T’ny?” Steve rasped.

“Hey, you,” Tony said, smiling. “What are you doing out here, hm?”

As Tony’s hand moved towards Steve’s cheek, the soldier drew back. At Tony’s bewildered appearance, Steve explained.

“Don’t— uh, you probably shouldn’t touch me. I, umb, snff! I have a cold.”

Steve blushed, and the pink tint to his cheeks wasn’t from the fever as much as it was from embarrassment. He glanced at Tony, then turned his gaze away when he felt Tony’s eyes locked on him. He drew even further away from Tony when he felt a well-known tingle in his nose, nostrils quivering and face crumbling before he stifled two sneezes into the blanket.

“huh-NGxtt! Hnngt-Ngxt!”

“God bless you,” Tony murmured and placed his hand on Steve’s cheek even though Steve had told him not to. “Why didn’t you tell me you were so sick, honey?”

That was… not quite how Steve had expected him to react, but he melted into the gentle touch, too selfish to flinch away again.

“I didn’t, uh-huh! s-sorry, hh-! H’ushoo!” He sneezed more freely this time, curling away from Tony. “Excuse mbe, SNFF! I didn’t want to bother you with it.” He felt kinda silly saying this, especially after seeing Tony so… not bothered at all.

“God, Steven, you could never bother me,” Tony said as he ran a hand through Steve’s sleep-mussed hair. “How long have you felt bad?”

“Just since this morning… been tired all day, though, so I thought an early night would do me some good.”

“Why aren’t you in bed then?” Tony asked, looking at the massive pile of blankets.

“I knew you were coming home, and I-I just thought it’d be better if I slept out here so I wouldn’t disturb you.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Didn’t you hear what I just said? Disturb me,” he said incredulously. “Why would you think that?”

Steve felt himself go shy. “Because I’m all… icky and gross and— and I know you don’t like germs and all that, so.”

“Please, Steve, I don’t care about that. You’re sick, there’s no way I’m not taking care of you.”

Steve thought his heart might have doubled in size with emotion, warmth flooding in his chest as Tony soothingly stroked his forehead.

“Sorry,” Steve said. “You just seemed at little… twitchy when Clint was sick, so I figured…”

“I know. Maybe I was a little overdramatic… Only a tiny bit, though,” Tony smirked and Steve chuckled.

“Well, look where it got me.”

“Hm… I’m sorry if I seemed insensitive, and I’m even more sorry if I made you feel bad for being sick. Friday was just… long and exhausting.” Tony sighed. “I promise you, I don’t mind one bit of this.” He leaned in closer to Steve, pressing a kiss to his forehead and letting out a concerned noise at the feel of burning hot skin against his lips.

“You need to get out of these. You’re burning up.”

Steve whimpered in protest as Tony tugged at the blanket. “But I’m cold.”

“You’re running a fever, Steve… We need to get you some medicine and into bed, okay?”

Steve nodded and slowly sat up straight, feeling woozy at the shift in position. Tony steadied him and helped him to his feet, bringing an arm around Steve’s waist and guided him towards the bedroom.

“Sorry I’m so sick,” Steve murmured, slumping onto the bed and started pulling his hoodie over his head, leaving him in his sweatpants and a white t-shirt.

“Shh, don’t apologize,” Tony cooed. “Get comfortable, I’ll be back in a second.”

The comforter was cool when Steve’s shifted underneath it, feeling good against his feverish skin and sent shivers down his spine. He leaned back into the pillows, head resting comfortably, and closed his eyes with a quiet moan.

Steve wrinkled his nose and rubbed firmly at it, trying to impede the building itch, but within a few seconds it became too strong, and he pulled the collar of his t-shirt over his mouth, waiting for the inevitable sneezes.

“Hh… eh! Heh’CHushh! TSS’hhuh! snfSNF! Hh’tsh!” He released his grip on the tee and gave a little ticklish cough, muttering under his breath, “Jesus.”

“God bless you, sweetheart.” Tony emerged from the door, carrying an overloaded tray. “Good thing I brought tissues.”

“Along with half of CVS,” Steve sniffled and smiled softly.

“These are essential, Steven,” Tony defended and sat down on the bed. “Tissues, Tylenol and de-congestants, some… other thing I found in the cabinet, tea…”

“I think I’ve had enough tea for a lifetime,” Steve admitted, but he reached out and grabbed the steaming cup anyway.

“Sick people can never have too much tea,” Tony said, putting his hand in Steve’s hair and massaged his scalp gently.

Steve sighed, feeling tension he hadn’t even noticed was there bleeding out of him, and snuffled into the tea. The steam made him able to breathe through his nose again, but it left him sniffling and it made his nose run. He gratefully accepted the tissue Tony offered him and handed over the cup before blowing his nose.

Tony hummed sympathetically when blowing his nose made him cough, and Steve went a little bashful at the attention. “Sorry…”

Tony shook his head, wanting to tell him not to apologize for what felt like the tenth time within the hour he’d been home, but instead he snuggled closer to him, wrapping an arm around Steve’s broad shoulders and placed a soft peck into the messy, blonde hair.

They ended up putting on an old 80’s movie in the background while Steve took the medicine and finished his tea. After that, they cuddled up, Tony telling him about his trip to Tokyo and the SI-project they were starting, but before Tony got to the part where he got off the plane in Japan, Steve had dozed off, his head resting against Tony’s shoulder.

#my fic #stevetony #anon #ask box #i love these babies #so much

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redlavendertea · 5 years

Text

let’s just fall asleep like this

@sniffle-elf won my 150 followers giveaway, and requested an erasermic fic wherein shota comes home from a mission to find his boyfriend sick with a cold. i ended up writing 1k worth of sappy, domestic fluff, because that was the vibe that was calling my name at the moment. @sniffle-elf, i hope you enjoy your prize!!

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“I listened to your show on the train. Were you sick, or just exhausted?”

Once Shota actually gets a good look at his boyfriend he realizes what a stupid question that is. Mic is slumped on the couch wearing pajama pants with sharks on them and a yellow Violent Femmes t-shirt. He has a tissue shoved up his nose, and another one poking out of his pants pocket. His nose is stoplight red and tinged with peeling skin, and his eyes are bloodshot and black-ringed.

Shota had just been hoping that the flat, scratchy voice that he’d used to narrate the last episode of his weekly radio show would could be eliminated with a nice long nap, but Mic is quite obviously fighting a cold.

“Both,” he rasps, then immediately starts coughing into the crook of his elbow. The fit seems to have irritated his sinuses, because after that his eyes lose focus and his nose begins to twitch. “Sh…shota, you n-need to either…heehhhh…use your q-quirk or…hhahh…plug your ears because I’m going to…hha-AH—”

Not needing any further instructions, Shota activates Erasure to keep Mic from destroying both of their eardrums.

“Eghh’kkCH! Heh’SHHCH!” The sneezes are loud, but since they aren't infused with his Voice quirk, they aren't dangerous. They do sound painful though - and congested. Shota hands Mic a few tissues out of the box on the coffee table, which he takes as soon as he’s done cleaning up the one that fell out of his nose.

Blowing his nose appears to take effort - each attempt triggers a flurry of coughs, and when he’s finished he seems just as stuffed up as he was when he started.

Shota makes a quick stop in his bedroom to change out of his hero uniform and into sweats, then sits down next to Mic and lets him lean against him until he gives up on leaning and just falls into his lap. “Sorry,” Mic rasps as Shota starts rubbing his shoulders. “You just cabe home from a missiod. Snff. I should be the one doing this for you.” “It’s fine. The mission wasn’t that difficult, it was just long. I don’t need anything except to sit on the couch with you.”

Mic replies with a sneeze, which he just barely manages to catch in a tissue.

“Did you go to work today?” asks Shota, clapping his hand to Mic’s forehead. It’s worryingly warm. Knowing Mic, he’s taken no time off whatsoever to contend with his cold. He already knows that he hosted his Friday night radio show. It’s Monday evening now, and the likelihood that he’s spent the whole weekend doing everything except rest, and then spent all of Monday teaching is high.

Mic has a tendency to run at full speed until he collapses, because there’s always something that needs doing in one of his three jobs, and he thinks that Monster Energy is a suitable substitute for sleep. In addition to his tissues, he’s also surrounded by student essays and notes for next week’s show, which implies that he’s been working.

Mic surprises Shota by telling him between coughs that he skipped teaching for the day.

“You don’t seem to be getting much rest, though - you're still working.” “I can’t fall too far behind, you kdow that. But I had to stay home…I feel horrible…I don’t think I could focus on teachidg—hhghhSKK!” He catches that one with his elbow, then reaches vaguely for the tissue box before Shota grabs it for him. This time, his nose issues a high-pitched squeak as he tries to clear it. “I’b too tired to avoid activating my quirk when I sneeze, and I’b ndot trying to deafen the students—ashhIEW! Snff. Ugh. Thanks for erasing that.” “It’s mainly for my own benefit - I’d rather have dry eyes than have my ears bleed.” “Yeah, but it’s still nice of you—hgh-SHH!” Mic groans, slings his arm across his eyes. “That one made my head hurt…” “I’m sorry.” Shota leans over and kisses Mic on the forehead, then sits up and starts smoothing his hair. “Were you sneezing this much while you were doing your show?” “A little, but I was only just startidg to cobe down with this then - it got bad toward the end though. I had to cut a whole monologue I’d planned so I could have a sneezing fit off-mic. SNNFF. Ugh, sorry, that was gross.” Mic cups a hand over his nose, which has begun to drip. He blows his nose again, then whimpers at the pain. “My throat is so sore…” he says. “I’ll make you some tea in a few minutes,” says Shota. “I’m sorry you're not feeling well.”

“It’s not your—hhEHHH’KCHH! ASHIEW!” Those sneezes are piercing - Mic has been relying on Shota to keep his quirk at bay, and Shota had neglected his duty. It takes a moment for his ears to stop ringing, but when then do he notices that Mic is sitting up and flailing in frantic apology.

“Not your fault either,” says Shota.

“N-no, that one was. Snff. I can control my own quirk, I just wasn’t doing it out of laziness. Snff.”

“Not laziness - you just told me you were too tired to do it. You’re sick, and I’m perfectly capable of doing this for you. I spaced out for a moment, which is my mistake, not yours.”

Mic is too busy coughing to reply, so Shota starts rubbing circles on his shuddering chest until he gets his breath. They shift so that Shota is laying on the couch and Mic is laying on top of him, and both of them are covered in the cat-patterned throw blanket that had been hanging over the couch’s back.

Though Shota had originally intended to make Mic some tea and order some dinner for the two of them, his boyfriend’s face is now pressed against his chest, and his congested, labored breathing is starting to slow down.

“I’b falling asleep but I don’t want to…” Mic mumbles. “I still have work to do, and I really did want to do sobething for you when you came back. I should at least stay awake for more than five bid…bidutes…hhhnSHH!” That last sneeze explodes into a tissue that Shota grabs just in time to catch it. Hero reflexes come in handy for more than one reason.

“It’s okay,” says Shota, kissing the top of Mic’s head. “You can do the work later, and I don’t need anything except for you to take care of yourself. I’m tired too, so let’s just fall asleep like this.”

After the used tissue onto the pile on the coffee table, Mic nods his agreement.

#sickfic #sneeze fic #natto fics #er/aser/mic #congestion #sneezing #fever #coughing

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