#almost graduated | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nametakensff · 5 months

Note

Could you possibly write 🧡 for platonic S/tobin? I love the way you always allude to them in your S/teddie fics, and I’d love to see how you write them!

Hey anon, thank you for the prompt (Warm Night In)! Had a lot of fun writing this, and it ended up just over 8k!

((Set this in my S/teddie Mutual fetish AU - this would take part a few months after the S4 v/ecna bs (obviously everyone lives and H/awkins remains unscathed for the most part because I crave happiness) - pre-relationship, mutual pining on either side))

S/teve comes down with an absolute monster of a cold and R/obin is there to look after him

~~~~~~

Content:

Platonic S/tobin, S/teddie pre-relationship (M/M), cold sneezes, loud sneezes, sneezing in tissues, S/teve blowing his nose in E/ddie's bandana, fever, coughing, caretaking, mess, spray, descriptions of explicit fetish fantasies, mentions of potential contagion, R/obin is a very good sport about S/teve being terrible at covering his sneezes

CW: internalised homophobia, S/teve is insecure about his fetish

NSFW - fic is about a platonic M/F relationship but includes separate NSFW M/M content - minors DNI!

“HH-H!! HAHHRISHHHHOOOHhh! Fuck…”

Steve snuffled miserably into the soggy tissue he’d managed to catch his most recent explosion in. It looked about as sturdy as he currently felt – which was to say, not at all. He reached out from under the protective cover of his jacket, functioning as a makeshift blanket as he lay on the breakroom couch, and plucked another 3 tissues from the quickly diminishing box. Taking in a deep breath, he blew his nose with as much force as he could muster, desperate to get some relief from the built-up congestion. All attempts of keeping noise to a minimum had dwindled hours ago, along with whatever remained of his energy. He tried not to think about the customers browsing the shelves of the establishment for movies, how they could probably hear every crackling shift of mucus that he forced out into the tissues, the embarrassingly loud honk that rounded off his efforts.

It felt as though he’d spent more time in the first half of his shift stifling the never-ending barrage of sneezes between his pinching fingers than actually working. It hadn’t done anything for his headache, squeezing his temples as if in a vice – and it certainly hadn’t helped with the blockage in his sinuses. Once Robin had shown up that afternoon, she had all but forced him to go and lie down in the back, pulling him by the arm even as he smothered another miserable sneeze against his palm.

“Steve, please. If not for your own sake, do this for me. I don’t want to be responsible for letting you die on shift from some kind of freak head explosion – especially not in front of the customers. Who do you think’ll be the one scrubbing your brains off the walls?”

“Jesus, Robin. It’s not th’haahht….that ba’hhHDD!!”

Out of pure habit at that point, Steve had pinched his quivering nostrils closed, that final touch of his fingers to the sensitive skin pushing him over the edge.

“HAHH’GXKKT’SCHHH!!”

It was quieter than his unsuppressed sneezes, nobody could fight him on that. But it’d still been loud, the desperate attempt at wrangling it into submission making it angrier, more violent to his ears – and evidently, Robin’s. She’d hissed in sympathy as he let go of his nose, the wrinkle of concern between her furrowed brows growing deeper as his sinuses audibly squeaked with each post-sneeze snuffle.

“You shouldn’t do that.” She’d worried her bottom lip between her teeth. “You’ll seriously hurt yourself – blow out an eardrum or something. Steve – don’t.” She finished firmly, glaring as he had started to lift his hand up to his nose in preparation for an encore.

“But ih-hih-! It’s so loud – I –“

“It’s okay, dingus. There’s, like, one guy here right now. In the adult movie section. At 4:30pm.”

It was certainly a reassuring statement, but it wasn’t really as if Steve would have been able to hold back in the first place. The couch shook with the force of the sneeze that rocked through him – the first he had actually let out unhindered since the tickle had taken hold hours earlier. He’d practically roared with the effort of it, drenching his palms as he caught it between his steepled hands.

“HAHHH’RESSSSSHHHHIEWWWW!!!”

He’d noticed Robin jump, heard her mutter a soft “oh my god” as her soul no doubt left her body. Glancing up apologetically, he had blinked through bleary eyes at her, holding his soiled hands in place. He hoped she didn’t notice the slight shiver that ran down his spine, the goosebumps breaking out over his arms. After holding back for so long, it had felt so good to purge the tickle completely, like spreading a soothing balm over the persistent, niggling itch.

“Sorry.” He had just about resisted the urge to sniffle again, knowing it would sound gnarly.

“That’s ok – hey, look at that, I don’t need that midday coffee anymore. Totally awake!” She smiled like a dork and he couldn’t help grinning behind the protective cover of his hands.

“I’m gonna walk to the store on my lunch break and get you some things. Are you allergic to any medicines? Does your head hurt? Would you say you’re coming down with a cough – and is it a chesty kind of deal, or is it more tickly? Do you –“

“Robi’d.” Steve had cut her off, both of them visibly wincing as he struggled to pronounce her name. As if he didn’t feel disgusting enough, he could feel his nostrils twitching and flaring, another colossal sneeze working its way up and out of his sinuses just moments later.

“HAHHH’GITTSSCHHH’IEWWW!! Oh M’by god….”

Messy. So, so messy. As he’d snuffled and searched frantically for something to save him, Robin had slid a small pack of tissues across the coffee table in front of the couch.

“Guess I’ll take my break now. Try and hold out with these. Do not move. I’ll be back in 20 minutes, tops!”

With that, she’d spun on her heels and barrelled out of the door, leaving him to sit and stare at the tissues, holding his sticky hands tightly to his face as he tried to formulate the best plan of action. Before he’d even started to reach for them, Robin had stuck her head round the breakroom door one last time.

“Oh, and before I forget – Bless you!”

~~~~~~

‘Do not move’, she’d said. Steve had initially intended to clean himself up and ignore her entirely, getting back to organising the latest releases on the shelves and continuing as before. That had been his intention, but after the laborious and disgusting task of cleaning up his hands and face with tissues so flimsy they stuck to his skin almost instantly, and the blood rush that hit him so hard the moment he stood up he had swooned with it – not moving sounded like a great idea, actually. And so he hadn’t, for hours now.

He tossed the latest bundle of soaked tissues in the general direction of the trash can, using another few to dab gingerly under his damp, sensitive nostrils. Robin had been sure to pick him up some Kleenex Mansize on her trip to the pharmacy, making Steve blush when she’d mentioned they were the next best thing to getting him a tablecloth to use. He knew she’d just been joking but for various…reasons, his regrettably huge – and often, extremely messy – sneezes were a topic he didn’t like to draw attention to. They did a good enough job of doing that themself, turning more than a few heads each time they ripped through his sinuses. She’d noticed his change in demeanour immediately, because of course she had, and her voice had softened as she made some comment or other about ‘you know what they say about big sneezes’. He’d had to laugh at that – she had an amazing ability to disarm and placate him when all he wanted was to defend.

It was hard not to be defensive when it came to the topic of sneezing. He wondered if he’d ever be brave enough to explain why to Robin. He’d disclosed more to her than he had to any other person – even Nancy. And for what it was worth, that seemed to be the case for Robin, too. She may not have ended up his girlfriend, but this was better. She was his best friend, his person. He considered it a blessing that she actually couldn’t like him in that way – he was a fuck up, romantically. It only seemed to push people away when he got emotionally involved – another thing he had confessed to her one night when they were cuddled up in her bedroom, the late hour and the collective exhaustion between the pair of them elevating their meaningless rambling into much deeper, scarier territory.

She’d told him at the time that he wasn’t a fuck up, that he was fucking great and that he just had to believe her. That he had to slow down and stop treating dating like it was some kind of doomsday race, and that he would definitely find the girl for him. He’d been surprised that, although the comment was reassuring in its own way, something felt a little…off. Probably because an image of Eddie flashed across his mind in that moment, and the gravity of it was too much for him to handle. He’d tried his best to ignore it, but it had only flourished in the following weeks to the point he was thinking about the metalhead near constantly. It terrified him, truth be told. And that fear made him feel like a hypocrite above all else. How could he accept Robin with such ease but the thought of himself liking men almost had him breaking out in a cold sweat?

It really didn’t help that Eddie had the most extensive and pervasive allergies of anyone Steve had ever known. He’d figured the fits he’d been privy to at the boat house had been circumstantial. It had been dusty enough that he’d sneezed a couple of times himself, and he’d been there sparingly – for Eddie, it had been days of exposure. Of course he’d had a rough time. But, as time went on, Steve realised it wasn’t just dust. It was dust, and mould, and pollen, and certain perfumes, and feathers – the list that Steve wouldn’t admit to mentally keeping continued to grow as the days became weeks became the last couple of months. He would be engrossed in conversation, completely captivated by whatever Eddie was saying and happily so, when the older man’s expression would crumple and Steve had to pretend to be a normal person as he witnessed the most erotic allergic reactions of his life unfold mere feet away from him.

He felt he did a pretty good job, thank you very much. He even remembered to bless Eddie about half of the time, and enjoyed the bashful smile he got in response when he did. He was pretty sure he didn’t turn totally bright red each time – something he considered a huge achievement. Crossing his legs was a surefire way of concealing any visible…excitement. He was nailing it. Dealing with Eddie’s sneezes was one thing - as much as he had tried to hold back around the older man, he’d slipped up a few times and sneezed his embarrassing, splashy, intrusive sneezes in front of him. Luckily, the metalhead didn’t seem entirely repulsed – if anything, Steve noticed a twinkle in his expressive eyes, noticed a certain shift in his demeanour and body language as he focused in on him. It made him far too happy to be blessed by Eddie, but it simultaneously made him want the ground to open up and swallow him whole. This growing attraction to the older man, his – interest, going into overdrive; all of it was just too much to deal with – so he…didn’t. Basically.

And he didn’t need to be thinking about all this right now – not when his head was pounding and his eyes and nose were leaking like a faucet. And this fucking tickle…

Sitting up now, he reached frantically for another handful of tissues, holding them at the ready in an upraised hand as he panted and gasped, willing the maddening tickle to culminate and grant him some temporary reprieve. He could feel his nostrils flaring, stretching to capacity as the itch burrowed and crawled through his sinuses, leaving them damp and threatening to overflow.

“Come on…” he grumbled aloud after a particularly desperate gasp scissored out of him, causing tears of irritation to bead at the corners of his eyes but leaving him notably bereft of sneezes.

He reached up with a finger of the hand not cradling the tissues expectantly in front of him and nudged the tip of his nose from side to side. More often than not, a little manual stimulation could help a particularly stubborn sneeze along, at least if he was ticklish enough. It seemed to do its job, a few little wiggles igniting the tickle and leaving him bristling with the force of the subsequent inhale.

“HHDTT-!! HUUURRRSHHHHH’OOHhh!! HARRRUSHHHH’IEWWW!! TISSSCHHH’IEWW!! HAGT’TSCHHHHhhhh!!”

The tissues were predictably destroyed in the onslaught, damp and torn against his palm. He sat in place for a moment, leaning heavily to one side on the arm he’d frantically propped up against the couch to steady himself. That fit had been intense, each sneeze seeming to begin at his toes and rip through his entire body, muscles seizing and skin tingling. He felt pretty pathetic, shaking like a leaf and panting in the aftermath, extremely grateful that although everyone in downtown Hawkins could probably hear the excruciatingly fast progression of his illness, they couldn’t see him. He swiped at his dripping nostrils with what was left of the tissues before tossing them, plucking even more to tend to his leaking eyes, his lips dampened with heavy spray. One wary glance at the box revealed that it was almost empty. With a defeated sigh, he allowed himself to fall back against the couch, one arm slung over his closed eyes.

He hated being sick. The lack of control, the way it distracted him from focusing his energy on others, demanding he focus on himself, his weakened body that was no longer cooperating with him. The humiliation of it – the way he was such a gross, drippy mess. He felt like a germ factory, and he wasn’t wrong.

The worst part of it all, even above feeling shitty and gross and useless – was that he was inevitably going to get Robin sick. Her parents were out of town for the week, some old hippy reunion somewhere or other. Robin was fine with the peace and having the house to herself, he knew that – but they’d both decided that since he drove her to and from school and work most days and they hung out most days too, it would make sense that she just stay with him for the week.

It was fun, like they were real roommates – or maybe siblings? Both of them were Only Children so it wasn’t like they had any means of comparison, but the closeness and easiness of their bond was undeniable to themselves and everyone around them. Every day, they’d wake up, eat breakfast together, Steve would drop Robin off and they'd go about their respective school or work, reconvene for their shared evening shifts, eat dinner together, sometimes hang out with each other and sometimes not. They’d planned to veg out tonight, watch some dumb movies and relax. It was great hanging out with everyone, especially now that Eddie had been welcomed into the fold, but he needed his Robin time. Working together most of the week was great, for sure, but it was still work.

That had been the plan, but now he was wondering if he should muster up the rest of his strength at the end of the day to drop her off at her house and drive himself back home alone, sequestering himself away until this plague-like sickness fucked off for good. He knew already she wouldn’t allow it, but he was going to proffer the suggestion anyway.

He glanced at the crooked clock on the wall – just about two hours ‘til closing. Keith and the other coworker Steve had yet to meet would be working tomorrow, and he had the weekend off, for which he could not have imagined he would ever feel so grateful. Maybe he could sneeze and cough and wheeze this cold out of his system in a day if he willed it so. He felt awful that Robin had been working the front alone, especially as business ramped up to a maximum on Friday evenings. Just two more hours.

~~~~~

“…eve. Hey, Steve. Wakey wakey. Steeeve.”

It took Steve a moment to realise who he was, let alone where he was and the fact that Robin was gently shaking him awake. He groaned as his head started to throb almost immediately, as if the headache had been waiting to strike the second he woke up. His eyes opened slowly, irritated and dry, and scanned their way upwards to take in the nervous expression on Robin’s face. She was smiling, sure, but she was terrible at masking her concern. It worried him more than a little that she was even trying to hide the anxiety she would usually wear so plainly.

“…Robin?” He managed to rasp out. They both winced at the ragged sound of it.

“Jeez, Dingus. You sound like you swallowed a pile of broken glass.” Robin was still smiling, but it didn’t reach her eyes. If anything, they looked almost glossy enough that tears were imminent. Steve absolutely couldn’t stand that – the immediate need to reassure her galvanised him, the final push he needed to drag himself upwards and into a seated position. His head throbbed, and he gritted his teeth against the pain. He sensed Robin hovering, even with his eyes closed could visualise her hesitant hand outstretched toward him.

“I’m okay,” He cleared his throat somewhat productively, and tried again. “I’m okay, Robin.” Slightly better.

She flashed him another sad smile.

“You’re really not, Steve. But you don’t need to be.”

He didn’t really have a response to that – he just nodded, kneading at his temple a couple of times, willing the pain to recede. Sitting up had only made the throbbing worse, and on top of that the shifting of mucus in his sinuses had brought that ever-lingering tickle back to the surface. And god, did it tickle…

“I’ve gotten everything sorted out front. It’s a teeny tiny bit early, but I figure we’re alright to head out now. Do you – oh.”

Robin paused, taking in Steve’s tortured expression and the way his chest jumped with increasingly violent inhales. He noticed her noticing, started to blush as he lifted a hand frantically to cover his twisting facial features. He scrambled madly for the tissue box, but he wasn’t going to make it, he was going to sneeze, and-

He felt Robin press a handful of fresh tissues into his reaching palm, but he was too slow. The first sneeze burst out into his waiting palm, drenching it with spray and an unfortunate build-up of mess.

“RRRRISCCHHHHHH’IEWWWW!!”

He had just enough time to raise the tissues in his other hand to his face for the volley that followed, awkwardly cradling his soiled hand in a partial fist to shield the damage from Robin.

“HAHHHDTT’SHIEWWWWW!! HH’RRRUSHHHH’OOHH!! RRRRRSHHHH’UHHH!!”

He shuddered, the force of the powerful sneezing sapping him of almost all of his remaining energy. He gingerly wiped at his nose and tossed the sodden wad towards the trash can, composed enough now to reach for more clean tissues on his own and tend to his hands.

He glanced up and noticed Robin standing awkwardly with her arms wrapped around her lanky frame, half-watching and half-floundering, not sure where to look and chewing her bottom lip hard enough that it looked painful.

“Ugh, sorry you had to see that, Robs. I really am okay, I promise. Definitely sick. But okay.” He tossed the second wad of tissues in the trash and stood up tentatively, wobbling a little but managing not to fall on his ass. Robin had reached out then, steadied him with a soft hand to the back of his tricep. She gasped, eyes darting up to his face.

“Steve, you’re boiling hot! Like, volcanic explosion, magma-level hot!”

He sighed, knowing there was no way his verbal reassurances would get through to her at this point. He could understand how she was feeling – everyone called him a mother hen, and he knew it was true. Worrying about other people was an immutable and extremely prominent part of his personality. He’d be fussing over her just as much if he were in her shoes – would offer to carry her to the car if she was this shaky on her feet, even knowing he’d probably get an ‘Ew, gross’ and stalwart refusal to let him do so.

“’S just a mild fever. I run hot anyway, you know that.” He rounded off this blasé statement with an obnoxiously noisy sniffle.

She wrinkled her nose at him.

“Can you drive like this?” She asked, voice heavy with concern as she helped him gather up his things.

“Absolutely. Driven under much worse conditions, remember?” He was referring to driving uphill in the dark, borderline concussed, and the both of them knew it.

“That was different – desperate times, fighting an evil sludge monster. The only evil sludge monster here right now is you, Harrington.”

He snuffled again, the sound of it thick and wet, causing her to wince. Her poorly veiled disgust wasn’t making him feel much better, but he also couldn’t hold it against her. He sounded gross.

“It was different – like I said, much worse conditions. I have a cold, Robin. I’m not on my death bed or anything.” He shouldered his backpack, clearing his throat and managing to hold back what he was sure would be an obnoxiously prolonged coughing fit. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

She shrugged and followed him as he strode – or attempted to stride – out into the store. She was hovering, making sure he wouldn’t fall – it was sweet but still irritating. By the time they reached the car, she was close enough that when he spun round suddenly she nearly fell backwards in shock. He reached out to grab and steady her by the forearm, feeling guilty immediately that he’d touched her with a germy hand.

“Listen, Robin – I really don’t want you to catch this. Will you let me drive you home? I can bring you your stuff back in a couple of days.”

“Steve,” she started, her tone soft but firm. “I’m not leaving you alone right now. I don’t care if I get sick – you need someone to help you.”

“I don’t – “

“Don’t bother trying to talk me out of it. You’d just hide yourself away and get sicker and sicker, feeling sorry for yourself and ignoring anybody who reached out to you. You sound awful, Steve, I’m serious. I’m staying with you. Tough shit.”

He blinked at her. He’d expected her to refuse, but not the additional psychoanalytical beat down.

“Um. Wow, okay, sure. It’s your funeral if you catch it.” He shrugged, opening the car door.

“Thought you weren’t on your death bed.” She quipped back, settling into the passenger seat.

“Yeah, well.”

~~~~~~

After all the easy-going confidence with which he’d reassured Robin he was totally fine to drive, within minutes he realised that whilst he technically could, it would not be fun. If anything, he’d felt better with the concussion. He had a permanent bundle of tissues in his right hand, even as he clutched the wheel, ready to stifle sneeze after sneeze as Robin fretted beside him and held the wheel steady enough that they wouldn’t go veering dangerously off-road. They were a week into May, the weather not even remotely cold outside, but the fever had left him chilled and shivering enough that he’d turned the heating up anyway, apologising to Robin. It wasn’t helping, however, and all the shift in temperature seemed to do was tickle his sensitive nose even more.

It was as Steve pulled to a stop at a red light that the tickle blossomed so suddenly and so intensely that he couldn’t even think to let go of the wheel and ready himself to sneeze into his tissues. His chest jumped with a wrenching gasp, nostrils flaring wide and jaw snapping open in an instant. It tickled so, so much; even as it tipped his head back and squeezed his eyes closed, he couldn’t deny that the sensation was immensely pleasurable, moreso knowing that the resultant sneeze was going to be an absolute monster. He craved that release after all those hastily suppressed sneezes, pinching his reddened nostrils shut against the force of them.

Focusing all of his energy on the sneeze and losing himself entirely, he hitched once, twice, and then –

“HAHHHDDT’TIISSSCCHHHHH’IEWWWW!!!”

It tore through him, sending him tumbling forward in his chair. As he’d expected, it felt fucking incredible – he leaned into it, savoured that tingling relief that spread through his limbs as his lungs pushed out every last bit of air through his pursed lips.

“Oh, god, Steve!”

Robin’s yelp pulled him back to the present - the embarrassing, unfortunate present in which he had just sprayed the sneeze to end all sneezes all over the steering wheel, dashboard, his own arms and hands, and practically everything else within a 4 foot radius as the massive cloud of aerosol swirled in the air around him. He felt his entire face burning – he meant to apologise, he really did, but the tickle returned with a vengeance and it was just too strong.

“TTTISSSSHHHHH’IIEWWWW!! HH’RISSSSSHH’OOohh!!”

He sneezed twice more in much the same fashion, helpless to control it. He rocked with them, eyes streaming in irritation, feeling his muscles strain with the effort and the way it almost lifted him from his seat.

“Steve!! Oh my god, that went everywhere!” He heard Robin complain, saw how out of the corner of his eye she rolled down her window frantically.

“Fuck, I’m –“ He started before a loud honking behind them cut him off. The light had turned green and the car behind them was impatiently telling them to haul ass – how embarrassing. He stepped on the gas, blushing to his ears and hoping that the other driver hadn’t been witness to that repulsive display.

He sniffled, turning a corner and, thankfully, onto a road with no other drivers. He took the chance to peer down sheepishly at the damage he’d caused. His steering wheel was almost dripping; the dashboard glittering with visible droplets of his spray; he could even see a shimmer of dampness on the back of his hands and forearms.

“Robin,” he started, scrambling with one hand for some clean tissues and scrubbing at every surface he could reach. “I am so, so sorry. That was disgusting. Did I – did I get you?”

He turned to her, plucking a handful of tissues from the box and thrusting them at her. He realised with some dismay as she accepted them that said box was now completely empty.

“I don’t know what happened – I just couldn’t control them. God.” He scrunched his eyes shut before remembering he was in the middle of driving.

“Ugh, Dingus. It’s okay. I mean, it’s pretty gross but I’ve had, like, gooey monster tentacles all over me. I can handle your mucus.”

“Fuck.” It didn’t help – he was still mortified. Robin was such a good sport – he imagined most people would have punched him square in the jaw for that performance.

“Steve, hey. You’re really sick, it’s okay.” She patted him on the arm conciliatorily.

“God. I guess I am. That shit felt like it bounced my brain off my skull.” Normally he wouldn’t talk about his sneezes, especially not how they made him feel, but he was truly shaken.

“Think you can hold it together ‘til we get to your place?” She asked, resting her hand on his arm now. The gentle touch felt reassuring.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll b-be-! Hh’HUH!”

“Gonna sneeze again?”

Regrettably so, he really was. Panicking, he started to gasp into another buildup.

“I dohh-h’ont-!! I don’t h’hahh!! Hahhve any-! Any Tih’hh-! TTTTISHHHHIEWWWW!!” He exploded, this time jerking to his left to avoid spraying Robin and instead baptising the window beside him. The car lurched with him – Robin squeaked and grabbed for the steering wheel, pulling it towards herself to steady them back onto the road.

“Sorry, sorry, fuck!” Steve snuffled heavily. Mess was now dripping in twin streams over his upper lip, making him feel more disgusting than ever.

“No tissues?” Robin said, letting go of the wheel and wriggling in her seat, looking all around her for a spare. She came up empty, as Steve knew she would.

“Hold on,” She started, leaning back and angling herself between their seats as she reached into the back. “Might be something back here.”

Steve started to sniffle again but held himself back, anxious it would only trigger another spraying sneeze – one that would no doubt splatter the front window with its productiveness.

“I really don’t think – “

“Bingo!” Robin announced, audibly proud of herself. When Steve turned his head to look at the item she proffered towards him, his blush returned in earnest. Eddie’s bandana-slash-handkerchief. He must have left it there the last time he’d ridden with Steve. Come to think of it, when he’d driven Dustin, Lucas and Eddie to a campaign at the Wheeler house, the metalhead had been pretty…sensitive. He’d reassured them that it was just allergies, nothing to worry about. And it really hadn’t been all that much, but even a sniffle from Eddie was enough to send all the blood in Steve’s body rushing straight to fill his cock.

Not only had Eddie sneezed, a series of sweet little stifles that had Steve’s heart beating at 100mph, he’d sniffled and rubbed at his pinkened nostrils with the very bandana Robin was now pressing into the palm of a hand she had pried free from his grip on the steering wheel. He must have forgotten about it and left it there, sitting on the floor of Steve’s car, completely unaware of how intensely erotic said item was to the former jock. Had he known it was there, would he have had the courage to return it to Eddie himself? It seemed to burn in his palm. Eddie’s adorable, desperate sneezes had been sprayed and muffled into this fabric. It was too much – on top of the fever, this deviant spiral of thought left him feeling as though his brain was seconds away from leaking out his ears.

“…Steve?” Robin asked. He jumped, eyes flickering upwards from their fixed stare on the bandana to her confused expression, then swivelling straight back to the road before he really did make them crash.

“Yeah. Uhh. It’s Eddie’s.” He said, as if that meant anything at all to Robin. He heard her laugh.

“Uh, yeah, Steve, I figured. Unless black and skulls are your thing now.” She was teasing him, and not just about his fashion choices. He wasn’t sure how, but he sensed that she was, and it went deeper than his stupidly obvious statement.

“So…are you gonna use it?” She asked a moment later, and Steve remembered the entire reason she’d given it to him in the first place. He’d been focusing so hard on keeping the blood in his head and not in his cock that he was almost functioning on autopilot. He was suddenly very aware that the mess running down his face was moments away from ending up in his mouth.

“Yeah, fuck, sorry.” Desperate to avoid her scrutinous gaze, he hurriedly brought the fabric to his face and blew into it, hard. Arousal blossomed anew, thinking about Eddie doing the same – about every sneeze the fabric had been graced with now touching his face. It was driving him crazy. He wished he was alone in this moment – if he was, he’d pull off the road, haphazardly park, then jerk himself hard and fast until he was coming into the bandana, that sexy little piece of fabric that almost functioned like an indirect kiss.

Miraculously, he was only a little hard – enough that Robin wouldn’t notice, especially since dicks were a big enough source of amused repulsion for her that she was unlikely to be looking. He imagined the illness was helping to keep him soft; he really did feel shitty, increasingly shittier with every passing minute. He rounded off with one final, honking blow before sighing deeply – a weary, exhausted exhalation of defeat. Robin rubbed his arm reassuringly.

“Almost home.”

~~~~~~

In the twenty minutes that had passed since they’d walked through Steve’s front door, he had: sneezed at least 10 times; almost brained himself on the corner of his dresser as he attempted to wriggle out of his (admittedly pretty tight) jeans; coughed hard and long enough to leave his throat burning; and almost fallen down the stairs dressed in the comfortable loungewear Robin had insisted he put on.

In short, he wasn’t doing so hot. He hoped that this fast progression from awful to even worse would end up in his favour, aligning with the hope from earlier that he could burn through this sickness over the next couple of days, as if sprinting to the finish line. He really didn’t think he could handle feeling this terrible for much longer than that. It was as if every cell in his body was committing mutiny against him.

He lowered himself onto the living room couch on shaky legs and wrapped his arms around himself. He had no idea how he could be so hot but feel so cold. Like, okay, he understood the concept of a fever, but it still didn’t make the paradoxical sensation any easier to bear. He shivered miserably.

Robin bustled into the room a moment later, carrying a soft sherpa blanket in a scrambled heap, as if she’d yanked it from its neatly folded position in the main bedroom linen closet in a rush. Steve was certain this was absolutely the case.

“Heyy, buddy,” she started, still a little on edge but evidently happy to be done with that tumultuous car journey. “You should get under this blanket. You know what – lemme just…”

Initially thrusting the bundle of fabric at Steve, she seemed to change her mind and took it upon herself to wrap the blanket round him – even tucking it closer when it threatened to slip down his shoulders. Steve felt himself blushing a little and hoped that it wouldn’t be all too obvious on top of his fever-flushed complexion. He and Robin had cuddled together on occasion, sure – they’d held hands, too, discovering the contact felt reassuring and natural – but this level of intimacy and caretaking was something he’d never experienced – from anyone, really, but especially not from her. Her usual style was more sarcastic one-liners, name-calling and gentle shoves. To be fussed over by anyone was hard for him to accept, so it felt more than a little daunting at the hands of his best friend - purely because it felt so alien. One tentative glance at Robin confirmed that she must have been feeling pretty similarly awkward herself.

“Okay. I ordered us pizza – I know soup would probably be better, yeah, I realised that after I hung up the phone, shit – but anyway, that’s dinner. I’m gonna get you some water and Tylenol – maybe tea? Do you want tea?”

He couldn’t help but smile at how endearingly unnatural she was finding this. He knew if he was in her shoes she’d be wrapped up, propped up, fed and medicated 10 minutes ago. He’d still be brimming with anxious energy but that would be the natural result of the helplessness he’d feel that he couldn’t take away her discomfort on the spot. That she was trying, really, honestly trying, made his heart swell.

“Um, no tea, Robs. I don’t even know if we have any. Could you get me a cold compress for my head, maybe?”

Her eyes widened for a moment before they rolled back into her head dramatically, and she slapped a hand to her forehead.

“Uh, yes, of course I can do that – can’t believe I haven’t already. Sorry, Steve, just a minute – “ She was already halfway out the door by the time she finished.

“Robin, you don’t need to run – I’m okay!” He called out after her, regretting it almost immediately as his throat seized and he was thrown forward with a violent fit of coughing. He attempted to muffle it into one blanketed hand, shielding his mouth with the fabric. As if he didn’t feel disgusting enough already, he felt a tickle blossoming deep in his sinuses, so quickly that almost the moment he finished hacking he was gasping deeply in preparation for the oncoming explosion.

“Hh’Ohh goddDD’TTSSSHHHIEWWW!! HXXT’SHIEWWWW!! HAH’RRRRSHHHH’UU!! Oh…”

He shuddered and gingerly pulled his nose back from the now sodden fabric, clinging to the palm of his hand under the weight of the mess. Cursing, he scrambled to pull his other hand free of the blanket, snatching a handful of tissues from the box on the coffee table that he now regrettably wished he’d had half the mind to reach for sooner. Eddie’s bandana might have been a relief at first, but it was now so thoroughly sneezed and snorted into that it lay useless and dejected in Steve’s laundry hamper.

“Bless you, Dingus!” Robin called out from somewhere in the house.

He didn’t bother calling back, not wanting to trigger a repeat performance of that entirely disgusting display. At least the sneezes had felt halfway relieving – though very productive, the results of which he frantically scrubbed from the soggy patch of blanket. After he’d done all he could, he sighed and attempted to snuggle back into the couch cushions. ‘Attempt’ being the operative word, here – the Harrington household couches were much like everything else in the joint: carefully selected to signal a certain degree of cold and detached classiness, more like a showroom than a home. The Buckley household was much more inviting. Hell, even the couch at the Munson trailer was effortlessly comfortable, even with the creaky springs that prodded you as you moved.

He wondered what Eddie was doing now – planning for a campaign? Playing guitar? Some party, somewhere? He hadn’t spoken to him for a couple of days, come to think of it. He realised suddenly that he really wanted to talk to him. More than that, he just wanted to listen. Even with this persistent headache, he wanted to sit back just like this, eyes closed in surrender, and let Eddie ramble away about whatever he pleased. It didn’t really matter what was said as long as it was him saying it. These thoughts, though initially soothing and pleasant, very quickly became a source of gnawing emotional pain that Steve refused to address a moment longer. He squeezed his eyes shut and groaned, feeling embarrassed and pathetic.

“Hey, I got that compress – you wanna – oh, you’re already leaning back, good.” Robin was at his side again, gently sweeping back his sweaty bangs and resting the cool, damp towel on his forehead. He felt the relief of it instantly, humming softly and focusing in on the sensation until the troubling thoughts of Eddie started to fade.

“That feel good?” Robin asked softly, sitting down next to him.

“Mm. Yeah. Th’nks.” He muttered, reaching a hand out of his cocoon and squeezing her wrist in appreciation.

“You wanna stay like that for a while ‘til the pizza gets here?”

“Mm’hmm.”

“Cool. Can I put something on? Anything you want. I’ll keep the volume low.”

“I don’t mind, if you don’t mind me not really paying attention.”

Robin laughed.

“As if you pay attention to anything I suggest, anyway.”

“Hey!” He smiled despite himself. “You can’t say I don’t try.”

“Oh, I can, and I will.”

She laughed again as he weakly punched her arm.

“Just stay with me, please?” He asked, a little shocked by the naked sincerity of the request as it tumbled out of him.

“Of course, Steve. Where else would I go?”

~~~~~~

After they’d finished their pizza – Steve far less than he would have liked, the normally delicious cheese seeming extra congealed and greasy – Robin had put on some artsy film that Steve tried his best to follow but was sure he’d have had a hard time with on a regular day, let alone one where he was starting to feel like jello in the form of a human. They gradually cuddled closer together, interrupted only by Steve twisting himself away from Robin each and every time he felt a sneeze coming on. It had reached the point where she’d told him to cut it out and sit still.

“You’re gonna give yourself whiplash on top of your cold. Seriously, stop.”

“But I’ll – end up sneezing on you.”

She’d sighed in defeat.

“Then do that. I’m catching this anyway.”

His cheeks burned a little at that.

“Are you sure? Wouldn’t that be like, super gross?”

“As long as you use the blanket or tissues, it won’t be all bad.”

And Steve had used both the blanket and the tissues – for a little while, anyway. He soon had his head in her lap, propped up by a cushion she’d added for his comfort. He wasn’t facing her, at least, so every germ-filled blast was aimed squarely at the table in front of them. If she felt the spray settling on her thighs or knees, she said nothing. To his utter delight, she’d started to rhythmically card a hand through his hair, making him feel for all the world like a spoiled little lapdog. Her endearing clumsiness was nowhere to be found as she expertly dragged her nails across his scalp. He’d have been asleep long ago if it wasn’t for this…t-tickle-!

“HH!! ‘GGTSCHEWWWW!! HARRRUSHHHH!! Hh, HH-!”

The third and final sneeze seemed to elude him, teasing him fiercely enough that his bleary eyes were beading with tears. He was more than grateful that Robin couldn’t watch his face as it crumpled – the way his nostrils twitched, mouth dropping open as his tongue pressed against his bottom teeth in a silent prayer, begging for the tickle to crest.

At last he was granted some reprieve, and three choppy inhales later he was barrelling forward, sneezing violently over Robin’s knees.

“hHAAHHH’GCK’TCHIEWWWWwww!!!”

He felt her other hand reach out and steady him by the shoulder as his body threatened to roll off the couch with the sheer force of it.

“Jesus, Dingus, Bless you!!”

“Ugg. Tha’gk you…” He snuffled miserably. The sneeze had felt amazing but he still felt bad about repeatedly spraying his best friend with an endless torrent of germs.

A bundle of tissues was suddenly hovering before his eyes as Robin held them out over him. He took them gratefully, muttering a small ‘thanks’ before blowing as hard as he possibly could. It was gnarly – loud, thick and rounded off with a honk not unfamiliar to the trumpet warm-ups Robin had subjected him to as she practiced in the guest room last night.

“God, Steve. Talk about man flu.” She patted his shoulder good-naturedly.

“I know. I’m sorry.” He meant it, too.

“No, you’re good. Don’t even worry about it. Just try not to die on me, okay? You’re heavy.”

“Promise.”

The glorious head massage resumed, and finally, blessedly, Steve felt himself slipping into a heavy sleep.

~~~~~

Robin pulled Steve’s bedroom door shut with a gentle click – not that her efforts at silence would matter, given the heart-breakingly congested snores Steve was already emitting from under his duvet. She headed to the bathroom and started her nighttime routine. Looking at herself in the stupidly ornate mirror of Steve’s guestroom ensuite, she noticed she looked just as tired as she felt – maybe moreso. She knew it was too early to be catching Steve’s cold – had to be, right? The incubation period was just too short. Realistically, she just looked worn down from the strain of an entire evening of worrying about Steve – who had, no doubt in her mind, possibly the worst cold on the face of the planet.

She finished washing her face, almost forgetting to rinse it properly as her mind wandered. Was he really that sick, or was he just one of those men for whom a tiny little bug brought them to their knees in one fell swoop? It was probably the latter – though he really did look, and sound, miserably unwell. The temperature emanating from his body as he’d rested in her lap had been scorching – she’d been sweltering in the combined warmth of the pleasant May evening and Steve’s furnace-like condition. Steve hadn’t noticed, at least; if he had, he’d been kind enough to ignore the massive pit stains that dampened her t-shirt.

She’d let him sleep for a while – 45 minutes, just until her movie ended and her legs had fallen asleep – then she’d woken him up with a gentle hand to the forehead. 10 minutes later, she’d successfully helped a groggy, snotty Steve up to his bedroom. That they’d nearly tripped heading upstairs as Steve buckled forward with several wrenching sneezes was just a minor inconvenience. Once he’d gotten into bed and she’d tucked the blanket up to his chin, she’d returned with the damp washcloth – using ice water this time, draping it over his burning forehead. He was shockingly pliant, incredibly obedient – the total lack of hyper-independence and stubbornness a sure sign of how poorly he was feeling.

After brushing her teeth she padded back downstairs, locating the living room landline. She had a feeling Steve would only feel worse tomorrow, and she’d underestimated how many meds and tissues he would need. She could probably bike out to the Drugstore herself, but something about Steve’s condition made her want to be in the house with him at all times. Call it trauma, separation anxiety, whatever – it was tough seeing him hurt and weak, and in their relatively short friendship it felt like he’d had decades worth of bad luck. A lifetime of it, probably. And besides, what if his dumb ass sneezed himself down the stairs and broke his neck when she was gone? No. It was too risky.

She dialed the familiar number and waited. The nearby clock indicated it was about 1:45 AM. The middle of the night for some, but not for who she had in mind.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Eddie?”

“Hey, Birdie! What’s got you calling little old me at this frightful hour?”

She smiled despite herself. His charm was undeniable - as cheesy as it often was, it was still disarming and soothing. She was glad to have had the fortune of getting to know him under more…relaxed circumstances following their initial meeting, where she’d been convinced she’d found the only other person more prone to floundering, nervous breakdowns than herself.

“Figured you’d be awake for at least another 3 hours. Can you talk for a minute?”

“Sure, shoot. I was just fucking with my guitar anyway.”

“Kinky.”

“Watch it, Buckley.”

She grinned, knowing he’d be doing just the same on the other end of the line.

“I actually need to ask you for a favour, if that’s okay?”

“Oh?” He sounded pointedly curious, like this was the last thing he’d expected her to say. “Are you okay? Need a ride, or something?”

“No, no, I’m fine. I’m at Steve’s – remember I’ve been staying here this week?”

“Oh, yeah. Speaking of Stevie boy, how is he? Haven’t heard from him in, like, three days?”

She smirked. The two of them thought they were so fucking subtle with this shit, and as much as she wanted to let them figure it out on their own, she couldn’t help but poke the proverbial bear every now and then.

“Three days?? My god, that must be like three months in Eddie time.”

“Fuck off!” He was laughing, at least.

“That’s just the thing though, actually. It’s Steve, he’s – “

“What’s wrong? Is he hurt??”

She was so glad he couldn’t see her face right now. He was painfully, painfully transparent and it was the funniest, sweetest thing.

“He’s fine, you geek – not in any immediate danger. He’s just sick. Got the worst case of man flu probably, like, ever.”

Eddie was silent long enough that Robin wondered if their call had been disconnected.

“Eddie? You there?”

“Oh – yeah, sorry, just spacing out a little, ha ha!”

The forced laugh was…strange. But she chose to ignore it – he was probably stoned, at any rate.

“So, since he’s sick, I was wondering if tomorrow you could possibly pick up some meds and stuff for him? I really don’t want to leave him alone like this. He sneezed so hard before he nearly threw both of us down the stairs. If I leave him unattended who knows how else he might sneeze himself to an early demise?”

She ended her ramble with a small laugh, hoping to amuse Eddie and bring some levity to the situation. Instead, she was greeted with that same awkward silence, though it expired a little faster than last time.

“Oh man, that sounds – yeah, that would totally suck. Poor guy.”

It wasn’t the raucous laughter she’d been expecting at all. Eddie sounded – could it really be? Embarrassed?

“Are you okay? You sound weird.” She asked.

“I’m-! I’m fine, Birdie. Just. Pretty high.”

She’d figured as much, but somehow, she didn’t quite buy it. Whatever. Eddie was great, but she still didn’t fully understand him and his often confoundingly strange mannerisms just yet.

“Anyway. You think you can do that for me? I’d majorly appreciate it.”

“Yeah, yeah – I can totally do that. What time should I – drop stuff off?”

“Honestly, before lunch? The rate at which Steve is going through tissues is worthy of scientific observation.”

Eddie offered a reedy laugh at that – she’d expected that attempt at humour to dive like before, been ready for another awkward little pause. She would have almost preferred that to this obviously forced attempt at normal laughter. It wasn’t as if Eddie didn’t have a sense of humour, or know how to laugh like a human being, so? Man, he must be really high.

“So…I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“I’ll be there. I…probably won’t come inside. I mean, don’t want to disturb poor old Harrington, y’know?”

She blinked.

“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind?”

“Really, Robin, if I want to graduate in a month, I can’t get sick. I won’t face celebrating my 21st year still stuck in that fucking dump.”

It made sense, what he was saying. But again, she just didn’t buy that that was the sole reason for this extremely out of character avoidance of Steve.

“Sure. Well, I’ll see you, then.”

“See you tomorrow, Birdie. Sleep tight.”

She hung up on him, taking a second to stand there and letting the absurdity of his behaviour wash over her before she made her way back upstairs. She was far too tired to even attempt to analyse the inner machinations of Eddie fucking Munson right now – tired enough that even Steve’s woeful snoring couldn’t stop her from passing out the second her head hit the pillow.

#The fic is based in May so it's not technically a traditional 'Warm Night In' - hope that's ok!!#Steve accounts for 99% of the 'Warm' part lol #oh also since canonical ages are never given I think the general consensus is at this point Robin is almost about to graduate aged 18 #Steve has graduated and is 19 - Eddie is due to graduate and is 20 #s/tranger t/hings #nametakenfic #sneeze fic #sneeze kink #snz kink #snzfucker #sneeze fucker #snz fet #snzblr

60 notes · View notes