A H/C Steddie Fic (Steve, Stranger Things)

[favrielle]

Hello!  The Steddie fandom has infiltrated my brain and I'm feral about it.  This is your run-of-the-mill hurt/comfort sick fic.  It might be a little light on the sneezing, actually. I'm going to eventually cross-post it other places, so it sort of dropped off at the end as I focused on generic h/c stuff.

The congestion spelling is also something that I still find challenging. It's one of my favorite things, but I also think it makes the dialog much harder to understand. Here I opted for adding in an extra letter, rather than replacing letters fully. The congested dialog is also something that drops off in the last half of the fic. Apologies!  I hope you enjoy this fluffy comfort fic.

___

Eddie’s boots clomp up the cement steps leading to the Harrington’s front door. He reaches up to ring the doorbell, plastic bag rustling in his other hand as he does so. He shifts his weight from foot to foot, trying to tamp down his impatience.

When he had gotten back to his trailer after his late shift at the auto shop an hour ago, his answering machine was glowing red with a message from Dustin. Apparently, Steve was sick. He’d been planning on acting as the chauffer and chaperone for The Party’s outing to the movies tonight, but had called Dustin several hours beforehand letting him know that he was too sick. Thankfully, he’d somehow (with much bribery, one assumes) convinced Robin and Nancy to take them instead. At the end of his message, Dustin suggested Eddie check on Steve, which Eddie would have done anyway without any prompting, thank you very much.

If Steve was willing to cancel, he must truly be feeling awful. And knowing him, he was probably guilt-tripping himself about it, so Eddie really wanted to get over there and make sure he was doing alright. A sick Steve was not something he’d ever witnessed before, and part of him was a little bit curious to see what he would be like.

Eddie is just about to ring the doorbell for a second time when he hears the soft shuffling of feet from inside the entryway. The door swings open with a creek, and he’s greeted by the sight of Steve in a hoodie and sweatpants, a wad of tissues in his hand. His eyes are glassy, his nose red, and his hair is looking even more manic than usual.

“Special delivery,” Eddie says, “I brought provisions.” He holds up the bag in his hand.  “Soup and orange juice for the invalid.”

“Very fuddy,” Steve says, voice thick with congestion. “How did you even kdnow I was sick?”

“Henderson called me. I got the message after I got home from work.”

“He can’td keep his mouth shut, cand he?” Steve sighs, then steps back, gesturing Eddie in. “Combe on.”

Eddie hops into the foyer. “Aww, I think it’s nice that he was worried about you.” They head into the kitchen, and Eddie sets the food down on the counter. “Better than you holing up in here all by yourself.”

Steve starts to respond but is interrupted by his breath hitching. He brings the clump of tissues closer to his face, eyes starting to close, head tilting back. Huh…ha-ETTTSSSHHH! He muffles the sneeze into the tissues, bending forward with the force of it. He grips the counter with his free hand.

“Whoa,” Eddie says, wide-eyed, “You really are sick.”

“Yeah, asshole,” he blows his nose, “It’s beed like this all day.” He looks so tired. Eddie just wants to wrap him in a blanket and keep him safe. Steve throws his tissues in the kitchen trash, coming closer to inspect the food Eddie brought.

“I’m sorry you feel like shit, babe.” Eddie brings him into a hug. Steve drops his forehead onto Eddie’s shoulder, sighing. He rests there for a minute, Eddie rubbing his back in a soothing motion.

“Itd’s okay.” Steve says into his shoulder, unwilling to move. “You didn’t have to combe all this way.” Eddie pulls back to look Steve in the eyes. His palm warm against Steve’s neck.

“Of course I did!  I wasn’t just going to leave you.  What kind of boyfriend would that make me?  Besides… it’s kind of cute seeing you like this.”

“It’s dnot cute, I’b disgusting,” Steve says, hating that he’s forced to breathe through his mouth. Eddie gives him a crooked smile and tousles his hair, mussing it even more.

“Trust me, it’s very cute.” He turns towards the grocery bag, pulling out a large container of soup, a small bottle of OJ, and a wrapped deli sandwich. “The soup and OJ are for you, and I got the sandwich for me since I was already at the deli.”

Steve pulls at the lid of the soup container, pausing, “…What if I wandt the saddwich?”

Eddie narrows his eyes at him. “Dude, I specifically got you soup because that’s what you get for sick people!  Doesn’t your throat hurt?”

“Well yeah, but thatd sandwich looks abazing, dude,” says Steve. Eddie tells himself Steve’s tone is ‘pouty’ rather than ‘whiney,’ but he’s probably delusional. It’s hard for him to be objective when it comes to Steve Harrington. He looks towards the heavens and sighs.

“You can have half of my sandwich.” He points at Steve, rings glinting in the light. “And I’m eating whatever soup you don’t want.”

As Steve beings to nod in agreement, his eyes start to close and he gasps, turning to sneeze into his elbow with a harsh-sounding Ha-RSSSHHH!  He groans, sniffs. Eddie looks at him with warm eyes.

“How could I deny you anything when you look this pathetic?” he croons, voice coming out softer than he means it to.

“Shutd up, mban,” the only response Steve’s exhausted brain can come up with. “I – ah-TSSSHH!” He twists to the side again. Comes back up for air, looking dizzy in the aftermath.

“Oookay, you need to go sit down now,” Eddie says, pushing him towards the couch. Steve doesn’t put up a fight, which is telling in itself. He plops down on the couch, and Eddie grabs the blanket off the back, tossing it at him. “Here - wear this. You’ll be warm.”

“I amb warm,” says Steve.

“Just humor me,” Eddie says, turning to head back to the kitchen. As he does, he hears a song pumping through the Harrington’s impressive TV set - hiiiighway tooooo the danger zone!  He immediately groans and pulls a 180. “Don’t tell me this is…” he tries to remember the ridiculous title of the trailer he’d seen countless times, hand flailing at the TV.

“Topb Gund?” Steve answers with a smirk.

“That glorified Navy commercial that everyone’s been jizzing themselves over,” he corrects, scrubbing his hands over his face.

“Thatd’s the onde. I snagged it during mby last shift.” Steve grabs the VHS case off the coffee table, shaking it for emphasis. “It just cambe out. One of the perkgs of the job.”  His gloating is cut short by a ha-EESSSH! that gets smothered into the blanket he’s wrapped around himself.

“You’re going to make me watch this, aren’t you?”

“Itd’ll make mbe feel bedder?” Steve sniffs, trying and failing to clear his sinuses.  He gives Eddie his best puppy-dog eyes. He might as well use the situation to his favor, he figures.

“Jesus, I can’t believe I’m falling for this,” Eddie says, sighing. “Only because you already had it on, and only because you’re sick.”

“Thatd’s very genderous of you,” Steve says sarcastically, burrowing into the couch.

“The things I do for love,” exclaims Eddie, throwing his hands in the air for dramatic effect.  He heads back into the kitchen to heat up their dinner. A few minutes later, he brings out Steve’s food, placing it in front of him with a flourish. “For you, Sire.”

“Thanggs, man,” says Steve. “You know, I can help you bring everything out, if you wandt.”

“And risk you fainting on me?” Eddie brings his hand to his chest dramatically. “No way, Harrington.”

“Oh, please.” Steve rolls his eyes. Eddie grins at him, walking over to tousle his hair again – an excuse to touch him.

“Hey,” he says, running his fingers through Steve’s hair which, okay, actually felt amazing, Steve had to admit. “Just let me take care of you, okay?”

At this point Steve was practically melting. “Okay,” he answered, fighting against the urge to close his eyes.

“I’ll be right back.” And just like that, Eddie’s magic hands disappeared, and Steve blinked back to reality. He grabbed a couple tissues from the box on the coffee table, blowing his nose in the hopes that he’ll be able to taste his food better. He tosses them in the small trash he brought down from the guest room, because he wasn’t going to turn the place into a pig-sty just because he was sick.

Soon Eddie returns, carrying his own food and setting up in the spot next to Steve on the couch. They dig in. Steve is surprised by how hungry he is.

“I definitdely don’t regret stealing half your saddwich, dude,” he says, mouth full. “This is so good.”

“See? I can introduce you to all kinds of good things if you let me,” Eddie says, licking some sauce off his thumb, eyes teasing. His flirting can still make Steve blush, even after all these months. Although today he’s not sure if it’s that or a fever. He’s pretty sure it’s not a fever. “But yeah, man, I’m glad you like it.” Eddie bumps his shoulder into Steve’s.

“So, did I miss any crucial details in the first 10 minutes?” Eddie asks, waving at Tom Cruise’s chiseled face on the screen.

“Nah, ndot really. Preddy much whad you see is whad you getd.” He pauses, soup spoon halfway to his mouth. “You’re gonnda like the volleyball scene, though.” He glances sidelong at Eddie, giving him an eyebrow waggle.

That earns him an easy laugh from the other man. “Well, it’s bound to have some redeeming qualities, I suppose.”  He leans in close to Steve’s face, as he is wont to do. “I await it with bated breath.” He drops a kiss to Steve’s blanketed shoulder.

They finish eating, and arrange themselves on the sectional end of the couch. Eddie’s sitting up with Steve settled in between his legs, laying back against his chest with Eddie’s arms circled loosely around him.

Eddie will admit that the movie isn’t too horrible. It’s got some good action sequences, and Steve was right about the volleyball scene. He feels Steve nodding off in his arms a couple of times, blearily jerking awake when the volume starts blasting again. Every so often Steve reaches for a tissue to stifle a sneeze, or in a futile effort to clear his sinuses.

The man named Goose was at the piano belting Great Balls of Fire, and Steve was awake again, feet poking out from under the blanket, jiggling along to the song. Eddie tapped out the rhythm against Steve’s chest.

“See, it’s fun, right?” Steve asked, bringing his hand up to wrap around Eddie’s forearm.

“Yeah, Harrington, it’s pretty good,” says Eddie, smiling into Steve’s hair. Steve goes quiet again, thinking.

“I wish I could have taken Henderson and the others to the movies tonight. I hope he wasn’t too disappointed.” Eddie tightens his hold on him.

“Hey, cut yourself some slack, man,” Eddie says. “They get it. Everyone just wants you to get better.”

Steve hums in response.

“Besides, you got Robin and Nancy to cover for you, so it’s all good.” Eddie, unable to stop himself, runs his hand through Steve’s hair in what he hopes is a comforting gesture. “If Henderson gives you any shit, I’ll kick his ass for you.”

“No you won’t,” Steve says, chuckling.

“No…I won’t,” Eddie concedes with a smirk. “Maybe a stern talking-to.”

“My hero.”

Any smartass response Eddie was formulating is cut off when Steve sharply inhales, breath hitching. He grabs the front of his own shirt, lifting it to cover his face just as a harsh Ha-ehXXXT! escapes him, grating against his throat. He stills for a moment. “Ow…”

Eddie grabs a tissue from the nearby box, handing it to him.

“Jesus, that one sounded like it hurt.”

“It did,” Steve says, angry but so, so tired.

“Okay man, you should actually try to get some sleep.”

“But we gotta finish the movie,” Steve protests weakly.

“We can, but if you fall asleep again, I’m turning the volume down and letting you sleep,” Eddie says, resolute.

“Fiiine,” comes the reluctant response.

“You know, it’s a lot of work to get you to put yourself first, for once.” Eddie says, idly toying with Steve’s fingers.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, just go to sleep, you dork,” Eddie says, giving Steve another squeeze for good measure.

“’Kay,” Steve says, already allowing his eyes to close. He drifts off a few minutes later, Eddie turning the volume down low, as promised. Eddie follows not long after, the comforting weight of Steve’s body lulling him to sleep.

[Melody]

omggg so cutee!!! Ugh i lpve this

[favrielle]

On 7/25/2022 at 10:17 PM, Melody said:

omggg so cutee!!! Ugh i lpve this

Thank you so much!  😁 💖 I'm glad you enjoyed!

[ThatSneezyGirl]

I’m in love with this 😍 please write more!!

[Ivorygrace27]

Ive been wanting to post my appreciation for your writing for awhile! I love your writing and i so much hope you continue! Made my day!