Clarity (Stranger Things, M)

[Skylacticon]

Hey all, I hope you’re having a nice week. Writing these two has been pretty fun, so I decided to continue. This is my first time writing for Eddie so I apologize if it’s a bit rough in places. Anyway, here we go.

 

Part 1

 

Steve took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He raised the round frames to his face again. Letting his hands descend, met his brown eyes in the mirror.

 

He squinted at his reflection - not due to any issues with the clarity of this newfound vision. He wasn’t used to something being so close to his eyes. It maybe perhaps didn’t look too bad. Running a hand through his hair, he actually began noticing the difference the frames made. The edges of the bathroom countertop were sharper, the tiny specks of the polished granite appearing like they used to. Although-

 

He glanced up again at his reflection. In his striped blue polo shirt, he looked like - well, he looked like -

 

“What’d you say?” He chuckled dryly, slowly approaching the figure with his back against the brick wall. “No, say it again. Come on, say that to my face.”

 

“Fuck off.”

 

“Hey,” Steve’s hand shot forward and grabbed his skinny forearm. The kid froze, his blue eyes looking giant behind his round, thick glasses. Steve felt the power in his clenched grip, in his shoulders, rushing in his head. He leaned closer. “What was that you said to me?”

 

The kid, clearly dominated between the two of them, still didn’t seem to want to back down. “It was the truth,” he huffed. Steve twisted the frail arm behind the kid’s back.

 

“You still think it’s funny?” He pushed the kid face-first toward the wall, keeping a firm grip on his arm. The kid struggled beneath him, but he was no match for Steve.

 

“Let me go.” The kid begged. He tried to wriggle free, but Steve shoved him back against the wall, causing the kid’s glasses to clack against the brick and fall onto the pavement. Tommy laughed and picked them up. “Hey, give those back!”

 

Steve paid no mind to his demand. “Why don’t you apologize? Huh?”

 

“Give them back.”

 

“Hey, you know what’s dumber than a C plus?” Tommy jeered. Steve’s gaze actually tore away to look back at Tommy. Tommy was grinning maliciously, holding up the kid’s glasses. “A dumbass who doesn’t know how to keep his mouth shut.” With that, he let the frames slip out of his fingers onto the pavement.

 

The kid squirmed harder. “Hey! No, wait-“

 

Before anyone could do anything, the sole of his shoe came down hard on them with a defining crunch. Steve barely heard the kid screaming in protest, twisting under his tough grip as he watched Tommy lift his shoe and scrape the broken glass off on the pavement. He felt the rush in his head numbing him, and the anger had vanished somehow, leaving a cloud of smoke in place of the fiery rage. Steve let the kid go with a thrust toward the wall, glancing down at the shattered frames. He glanced up at Tommy, who nodded. Panting, he stepped away, brushing himself off. Without looking back, he turned and stalked away. He heard a huff of a laugh from Tommy. “Come on,” Steve growled.

 

Steve pulled them off again, holding them by the temples. He heaved another sigh, chancing another look at his own reflection. The threaded lines of his jeans looked smooth. The granite countertop was the same colour but the tiny specks clouded together. But he could still see them. If he looked hard enough.

 

Steve folded the glasses and put them back in the leather case. He shoved the case into his bag and grabbed his keys.

 

It was a dreary day like any other. The skies were partly cloudy, bright but no sunlight broke through. The air was cold but refreshing in a way - blowing gently across his face through the open window. He passed by a sign advertising Coca Cola - or La Casera? Steve blinked and took a harder glance. He quickly swerved to avoid an incoming car, luckily just missing it. A blaring horn went off. “Jesus,” he breathed. He raked his fingers through his hair, deciding to focus on using his vision for the task at hand - getting to Eddie’s alive. After a few minutes of driving, Steve realized he forgot to put on music. Although, he supposed the quiet wasn’t so bad sometimes. He finally pulled into the trailer park and stopped by Eddie’s trailer.

 

He pounded on the door. “Hey Eds, it’s me.” There was quiet for the next few seconds. Steve tried to peer in through the curtained windows. He knocked another three times. “Eddie?”

 

After a moment, the door creaked open. Steve’s eyebrows lifted slightly, as the door moved to reveal Eddie. His thin stature showed more in the clothes he was wearing - a dark grey, baggy Black Sabbath t-shirt and blue flannel pyjama pants. His skin, if possible, looked paler; and his long, dark hair was frizzy and dishevelled. His dark eyes were droopy and tired - a contrast from how he always seemed so alert. He looked rough, to say the very least.

 

“Hey,” Steve breathed finally, forcing a grin.

 

Eddie sniffled, and turned away to cough roughly into his arm - or, what’ve actually might have been meant to be a laugh by the look of it. “Jesus, Harrigtod, dod’t look so scared.” Eddie rasped. God, his voice. A painful combination of sore, scratchy, and congested. Steve had only heard him remotely like this after shows, and even then it hadn’t sounded so… heavy.

 

A soft “Oh,” escaped Steve’s lips, as he followed Eddie inside and shut the door behind him. “Sorry. H-How are you feeling?”

 

Eddie coughed again, walking over to the couch and plopping down on it. “Oh, you kdow… dot the absolute best. *ahemm, snrff!*” Steve set down his bag on a chair and took off his coat. He came over to Eddie and gently ran a hand up and down his back. Eddie sighed and rubbed one eye. “Ub, last dight I had a cough and I woke up- *ah-hemm* -soundig like this. *snrf!*”

 

Steve hummed in acknowledgment, applying more pressure to Eddie’s back. It seemed to be relaxing him a bit. “That sucks. Sore throat?”

 

“Yeah. *snrf*” Eddie sniffled again and raised his index finger to rub his nose. “I’ve…” he sighed again, looking already done with his croaky, slightly higher-pitched voice. Steve listened patiently as he continued, trying to make out the words at their low volume. “I’ve had tea, cough drops…” he made another weak attempt to clear his throat, making Steve’s heart sink. He sounded exhausted.

 

“I’m sorry.” Steve said softly. “I, um… I brought you some soup.”

 

Eddie seemed to perk up a little. “You made soup?”

 

“Yeah.” Steve kept massaging Eddie’s back for a few more seconds. “Would you be up to try it?”

 

“What kind?”

 

Steve grinned. “Chicken noodle.”

 

“Mb… okay.”

 

Steve patted Eddie’s shoulder and got up from the couch. Steve went to the kitchen and took the container out of the bag, then found a mug for Eddie. He’d made it fresh this morning - nothing too fancy, leftover bow tie pasta, some frozen peas and carrots, and some sliced chicken breast from dinner the night before. He transferred some into the mug, then slid it into the microwave to heat up. Steve heard Eddie coughing amidst the hum of the microwave, and let out a soft sigh.

 

“You kdow the worst part of beig sick?” Eddie entered the kitchen and leaned on a chair by the table. Steve glanced over gently at him, and Eddie could feel it, continuing his thought out loud. “I get ideas to write frob sittig aroud all day, just thigkig. But I cad’t actually si’g theb. I cad play theb, but…”

 

“That’s rough. Yeah, you should be resting your voice.”

 

Eddie turned and coughed heavily into his arm. It sounded rough and a bit painful. He turned back with glassy eyes. “Oh by god.” He chuckled and wiped his eyes. Steve rubbed his back gently. “I bead, yeah. Yeah, I really should.” he rasped. His voice had almost been rendered inaudible, making Steve worry.

 

Then Eddie turned away again. Steve paused, watching subconsciously. Eddie’s shoulder blades rose and fell beneath his baggy t-shirt, and his head pitched forward with three soft, but harsh-sounding sneezes. “‘ischh!!- ‘iSCHh!!-uhh… huh’ISCHH!!” He doubled forward with each wrenching expulsion, catching them in the crook of his arm.

 

Steve stepped forward, gently putting his hands on Eddie’s shoulders. “Whoa, hey. Easy,”

 

“-huh’ISCHHiuh!! *sdrf!*” They sounded harsh and winding, but also desperate.

 

“Bless you,” Steve helped him sit down gently, pulling out the chair nearest to him at the table.

 

“*snrff* Ugh. Thagk you. Sorry.” Eddie sniffled thickly, and swiped at teary eyes. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket.

 

“That’s all good.” Steve turned away to grab the soup from the microwave, as Eddie blew his nose. He emerged with a sniffle.

 

“You got a death wish cobig here. *snf!*” Eddie attempted to clear his throat again, and ran his fingers through his long hair. Steve slid the steaming mug of soup over to him, and sat across from Eddie at the table. "*snf* Thagk you." 

 

“Please. When have I ever not ran into a deadly situation, guns blazing?” Steve replied coolly.

 

Eddie chuckled softly. “Touché.” He warmed his hands on the sides of the mug. “Although half of those tibes… you did get beat to a pulp.” His voice, though creaky and rough, still managed to sound witty.

 

“I did not get beat to a pulp,” Steve said quickly. “Plus, I knocked out a Russian soldier, how is that not a victory?”

 

“I bead, that is pretty badass.” Eddie grinned down at the soup, stirring it with the spoon. “But Buckley said you got roughed up real good.” He finally took a bite. It was good. He took another bite, realizing how hungry he really was. He started to sniffle wetly as the steam caused his nose to run.

 

“No, yeah, I did.” Steve ran his fingers through his hair. “Still kind of… dealing with it now, actually.”

 

“Mm?”

 

“Uh… yeah. My eyesight’s not what it used to be. God, I sound like an old grandpa.” Steve chuckled and rested his arms on the table. “Nah, but it’s probably cuz of a bunch of things… you know, not eating enough carrots and such.”

 

“Right… cuz, *ahem* I bead, carrots do tend to pack a bead pudch if you dod’t eat ‘eb first.”

 

“Pff,” Steve scoffed, as Eddie chuckled down at his soup. Steve’s eyes lit up at the sight of his smile. “Yeah. Anyway, other than that I’m right as rain. Still hardheaded, as always.”

 

Eddie glanced at Steve, who was absentmindedly rubbing at his elbow with his index finger. He found himself exploring the familiar features. The way his brown hair waved backward at the ends. The moles on his cheeks and neck. There used to be a pinch of something whenever he saw him - like resentment or something non-personal - except it was personal, and he knew Steve knew that from the start. It was human nature to feel such things.

 

It was also human nature to change. That in itself was a fact - but Eddie had reason to doubt that. The way he honest-to-god would have stabbed him with the broken bottle in Reefer Rick’s shed? After everything Dustin had told him? That was where it started to seem less like human nature, and along something more individualistic. Eddie began to feel a strange sensation of doubt beneath the stillness. He had answered Steve’s question the other night. Was it just words?

 

“So you, um…”  Steve cleared his throat softly. “You come up with any new riffs, or progressions, or…?”

 

Eddie nodded. He finished chewing another bite and swallowed. “Sort of. It’s kide of plaid, but… I bead, it’s dot really the sabe without the lyrics.” Dear God. Lyrics. Thank God he couldn’t sing at the moment…

 

“Mm. I get that.” Steve said, wondering if he really did understand. He stared at Eddie’s hands. He reached out and took one of them gently. Eddie watched in amusement as Steve quietly studied the silver rings on his index, middle, and ring finger. A cross with skulls… A mean-looking pig… And a big, angry skull. He’d thought they looked cool ever since they met, but never really saw them up close. And now that he could…

 

“I just sdeezed all over byself, dude.” Eddie said gently after a few seconds.

 

“I’m aware.” Steve squeezed Eddie’s fingers. They were ice cold.

 

“Aren’t you worried about gettig sick?”

 

“Aware?” he said casually, tilting his head vaguely from side to side. “Yeah. Worried? …No.” Steve held Eddie’s freezing hand between both of his. 

 

Maybe, perhaps… it was something beyond words. Eddie’s gaze zoned out on Steve’s warmer palms squeezing his hand. He turned his hand so that his palm was facing up, and he stroked Steve’s hand with his thumb. The tips of Eddie's fingers were rough and calloused, scratching Steve's palm. Eddie blinked a couple of times. His head turned slightly as he felt a familiar burn in his sinuses. He really didn’t want to sneeze now. He pressed his tongue up against the roof of his mouth, and held his breath. Still, the feeling didn’t back down.

 

“Steve,” Eddie muttered. His nose was scrunching up, his eyes blinking rapidly. "I’b godda sdeeze.”

 

“Oh,” Steve breathed. Eddie’s hand slipped out from his as he pulled out his handkerchief with his free hand and lifted it to his face. Eddie turned away from the table and pitched forward with another four harsh, itchy-sounding sneezes.

 

“heht!’ISSCHHh!! Huh’ISSCHH!! -ISCHhiuh!!” Jesus, Steve thought. They sounded intense. “Huh’- huh’EESSCHhh!!”

 

“Bless you.” Steve said gently, reaching out to rub his shoulder.

 

There was a wet sniffle, followed by a soft breath. Eddie blew his nose softly and rubbed his nose. When he lowered the cloth, it revealed red, chapped-looking nostrils.

 

“Ah, *snff!*” Eddie gave a dismissive groan and sniffled hard, blinking his watery eyes. He stared down at the table. Sitting directly across from Steve, there was no where to hide. Steve frowned sympathetically. He could tell that Eddie was tired of this. Steve looked over and saw just a little bit of soup left in the mug.

 

“Hey,” he said softly, stroking Eddie’s arm. “Why don’t you finish your soup, and… we’ll go lie down?”

 

Eddie felt a streak of amusement at Steve’s delicate tone. But he seemed too tired to protest.

[Prongs]

🥹 this is sooo soft and domestic. I love it! I’m just gonna throw it out there that yes, all that head trauma would add up, so definitely, Steve with glasses!
I think the idea of sick Eddie really does it for me because he’s usually so bold and over the top. But when he has a cold I imagine his usual energy would be dimmed, and his sneezes would be just like you described, soft, yet harsh and desperate. Like he’s trying to be polite but is also so, so itchy and too tired to hold them back.

thank you once again for your service 🫡❤️

[SpookyBoi]

This is really cute!!! We love glasses, Stevie he’s so cute and the man has no regard for his own health either!  
 

Poor Steve is definitely going to catch his cold! 🤣

Also Eddie’s so cute with his itchy desperate little sneezes, just too tired to hold back. Just all sleepy and sneezy! I love these boys so much!!!! ❤️❤️❤️

Edited November 19, 2022 by ChickyNuggetOfJustice

[Skylacticon]

Hey guys! I hope y'all are doing well. I really appreciate the comments, whenever I see them it encourages me to write more. 

So I'm back with the next part. More fluff with these two, I apologize if it gets too wordy in some areas, that's just me having fun as a writer. Anyway I hope y'all enjoy it.

 

 

Part 2

 

When Eddie finished the soup in his mug, Steve took it and gave it a quick wash in the sink. Then he followed Eddie shyly over to his room. Eddie kicked some cables out of the way, and hastily threw a couple of clothing pieces into a hamper near the door.

 

“*snrf!* Sorry for the bess.”

 

“Nah, this is nothing. You should see my room sometimes. Clean life…” Steve glanced at Eddie’s mattress, which consisted of one pillow and a flannel blanket. “Pigsty of a bedroom. Do you have any more pillows?”

 

“Uh, baybe. But my uncle uses theb. Why?”

 

“I was thinking, maybe if you slept more on an incline, it would help prevent the congestion from, you know, getting stuck in your throat.”

 

Eddie glanced at Steve as he spoke. One hand on his hip, scratching his chin. Not a hint of euphemism - trying to figure out things like pillows and remedies.

 

“Here, maybe we could use some blankets.”

 

Eddie blinked back to reality, as Steve went to the linen closet and grabbed some thick, folded blankets. He began placing them behind Eddie’s singular pillow, setting it up at an angle.

 

“Here,” Steve fluffed the pillow. “Wanna try it?” He turned to face Eddie, accidentally knocking over a neatly stacked pile of cassette tapes. “Oh, shit. Shit, I’m sorry, I…”

 

Eddie let out a breath, watching Steve scramble to retrieve the fallen tapes. There were thoughts in his mind that would never present themselves on paper.

 

“Oh- dod’t worry about those. Hodestly.” Eddie joined him in picking up the tapes, and resorted to placing them on top of his desk.

 

After clearing them up, he kneeled on the mattress and flipped over onto his back. He heaved a groaning sigh as he lay back on the soft incline.

 

“Is that okay?” Steve asked gently, sitting down on the edge of the mattress.

 

“This… is… divine.” A grin spread across Eddie’s face, and a small chuckle emerged, quickly stopped by some wheezy coughs. It was short-lived, punctuated by a throat-clearing cough. Then, after a moment, “You kdow… I dever thought I’d be so grateful to have Steve Harrington id by bedroob… kdockig over by tapes.”

 

Steve’s wandering gaze caught on Eddie’s, which stared back at him. Steve suppressed a smirk. “You know, uh….” he responded in a hushed tone. “I think that might be the drugs talking.”

 

“Yeah?” Eddie said absently, reaching out to touch Steve’s arm.

 

“Yeah.” Steve uttered back, watching him. Then he blinked. “You did take something, right?” he asked, as he realized guiltily that he forgot to bring over any medicine, although he thought Eddie might have said over the phone that he'd already taken something.

 

“Yeah, sobe Codtac earlier, but…" Oh good. "*snrf* I thigk I bight be… due for adother dose.” Eddie murmered slowly, running his fingers gently over a vein on Steve’s forearm. His words seemed to disconnect from his actions. He stroked his thumb over the inner part of his elbow, making Steve want to shiver. Steve lifted the hand that he was leaning on and cupped Eddie’s jaw. Whatever Eddie had been thinking of earlier was buried in the depths of his mind, feeling the tips of Steve’s fingers just behind his ear. Then he seemed to stop thinking altogether.

 

Eddie just remembered to breathe when Steve leaned closer and kissed him delicately on top of his head. He then moved back and stroked Eddie’s cheek with his thumb. “Let me go grab you some, okay?” Steve breathed, his eyes eliciting a soft warmth in Eddie’s chest. Eddie nodded, reaching up to touch Steve’s hand with his own before he pulled away.

 

As Steve exited the room, Eddie resisted the urge to roll over and scream into his pillow.

 

Contac, Steve thought pointedly, pacing into the kitchen. Contac. He heaved a big breath and rubbed the back of his neck, his other hand planted on his hip. God, what was that? He was aware that he had to be careful - because yeah, he could get sick, although at this point it was probably imminent. Although due to certain developments he really didn’t care - and also, he wanted Eddie to get better, that’s why he was here. His concern was also growing due to how cold it was inside the trailer - how was Eddie surviving in just a t-shirt? Okay, you know what? That’s it. No more thoughts. You can have this crisis later, you only have one job now. Focus. Contac.

 

Steve found the bottle of cough syrup sitting on the counter near the sink. He flipped it around to see how much was needed in a dose. He moved beneath the kitchen light, straining his eyes to make out the small text. The letters were too small for him to read - and the more he tried, it seemed to make his head hurt. Steve sighed and tossed a glance at Eddie’s doorway.

 

Steve went to his bag by the counter and dug out the leather case he’d thrown in there earlier that afternoon. With a resigning breath, he opened it up and removed the glasses from inside. He quietly slipped them on and left the case on the counter, then went back to reading the dosage on the bottle.

 

“huh’isSCHh!! -ISSCHhiuh!!” A couple of sneezes came from the bedroom, and the creaking sound of mattress springs being compressed.

 

Steve glanced up. “Bless you,” he called out.

 

“huht’ISSCHH!! *snrf* … ahh’ESCHH!!-ioo…”

 

The usual four. As Steve was turning to retrieve a tablespoon from the drawer, a desperate fifth broke the silence.

 

“hrr’ISSCHHiuhh!!” A deep, wet sniffle, and an exhausted sigh. “Fuckig hell…”

 

“Bless you,” Steve repeated. He heard wet, stuttering blows.

 

“Huh’igSCHhh!!”

 

Steve blinked. Six?

 

He walked back to the other side of the kitchen to peek down the hall toward Eddie’s doorway. He picked up the bottle of cough syrup and walked back toward Eddie’s room. When he reached the doorway, he saw Eddie sitting on the bottom edge of the mattress, facing away from the door. He seemed to be rubbing hard at his nose, sniffling wetly.

 

“Hey.” Steve tapped gently on the door with his knuckles. “You alright?” He asked softly.

 

Eddie sniffled thickly a couple more times, before making a rough attempt to clear his throat. The longer the silence lasted, the more it sounded to Steve like a dumb question. “Yeah,” Eddie croaked.

 

Steve came over and sat next to him. He transferred both the spoon and medicine to his left hand and ran his other hand comfortingly over Eddie’s back. Eddie sat hunched over, breathing steadily through his mouth. Steve brushed back a few strands of his hair.

 

“I’m gonna get you some water, okay?” Steve said in a hushed tone. Eddie nodded. He swiped moisture from his eyes as Steve got up to get him a glass of water from the kitchen.

 

When Steve returned, Eddie was sitting up straighter, glancing back at him sheepishly. “Is this what they beadt when they wished a plague upod by house?” he rasped, as Steve sat down to give him the glass.

 

Steve smiled sympathetically, watching Eddie take a sip of water. Sometimes he couldn’t understand how people could dislike him so much.

 

“Hey,” Eddie breathed. Steve met his gaze, which stared back, slightly wide-eyed.

 

“What?”

 

“Your…” Eddie tapped the side of his head with his finger, grinning. “Your glasses.“

 

“Oh,” Steve chuckled self-consciously, glancing down.

 

“They look good,” Eddie said softly. “They suit you.”

 

“Yeah?” Steve’s eyes crinkled as he smiled, and Eddie rested his head sideways on his hand as he gazed at him. “I don’t know, I just thought they made me look like-“

 

“You’re like-“ Eddie put down the glass and held up his hands excitedly, as if visualizing something. “*snrf* You’re like a beardless Eric Claptod.”

 

That made Steve laugh, seeing the frames in a whole new way. “Oh wow. I… I think you might need them now.” he joked, taking the bottle of Contac and beginning to open it.

 

“Ndo, really,” Eddie insisted, grinning at Steve. He turned away with a soft cough, which was followed by a bigger, rougher-sounding cough. Eddie picked up the glass again and took another sip.

 

“Here,” Steve roughly measured out about two thirds of a spoonful of the medicine and carefully held it toward Eddie - who eyed it warily. “Oh come on, you said you had this earlier.”

 

“Yeah, but it tastes like…”

 

“Eye of newt?”

 

There was a pause in which Steve realized he may have hit some sort of nerve. A dangerous smile cracked across Eddie’s face as he stared at Steve. He reached out his palm and aimed for Steve’s face.

 

Steve tried to dodge it while also holding the spoon steady. “Hey! Dude! You’re gonna make me spill it!”

 

“You’re bakig fud of be!”

 

“No! Okay, I’m sorry. I-“ he grinned at Eddie.

 

“Ndo Arcade Trickster shall poisod be!” he hissed, leaned back and rested his elbows on the mattress.

 

Steve grinned and shook his head. If he played along, could he get him to take it? “No, you know what, look, okay? It’s not poison,” he paused. “It’s-“ What did Dustin call it? “It’s a healing potion. It’ll make you stronger.” Eddie kept his intense stare. “Come on, don’t make me roll for it.”

 

Eddie stared for a moment longer. Then his face broke into a laugh, as leaned back forward again. Realizing what just happened, Steve rolled his eyes.

 

“God damn, Harrigtod. You are such a sweetheart, you kdow that? Give.” Eddie took the spoon from Steve and downed it like a shot. Then he groaned, his face contorting with disgust. “Sod of a bitch, that’s disgustig.”

 

Steve took the spoon from Eddie and got up. He sighed, shaking his head. “Oh, you are such a... You know, whatever gets it down.”

 

“You’re the best.” Eddie called out sweetly, as Steve went to put away the medicine.

 

“I know,” Steve replied from the kitchen, turning on the tap to rinse the spoon. He left it in the drying rack and wiped off his hands on a kitchen towel.

 

“Although I will take that last offer,” Eddie continued casually. Steve froze as he said that. He kept drying his hands. God, this man.

 

Steve came back to the bedroom, to find Eddie lying across the mattress like a Greek god. Steve couldn't help but smirk.

 

“Maybe later,” he murmured, kneeling down on the mattress. “Now, come on. Lie back.” Steve fluffed Eddie’s pillow and sat with his back against the wall. Eddie grinned faintly and did as he was told, reclining on the pile of pillows and sheets. Steve reached for the flannel blanket on the mattress and pulled it over them.

 

“I’b dot sleepy.”

 

Steve made sure the blanket covered Eddie’s feet. “You sure about that?”

 

“Mb,” Eddie grunted. He felt Steve’s arm wrap around his shoulder, and reached up to hold his hand.

 

The next few moments were calm and quiet. Steve’s eyes wandered across the posters on Eddie’s walls. The different cords snaking around the room. A row of guitar pedals, in a variety of interesting shapes and colours. In one corner sat a black acoustic guitar. Across the bottom curve of the body, in white letters, someone had written: “THIS MACHINE SLAYS Dragons.”

 

Eddie felt a vibration as Steve gave a soft hum. “Mb?” He peeked up at Steve, who’s eyes were fixed on the other side of the room.

 

“I like your, um,” Steve said softly, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “I like your machine.”

 

“This guy?” Eddie nodded toward the acoustic.

 

“Yeah,” Steve breathed.

 

Eddie sat up slowly, letting out a breath. “You get it?” He asked, glancing back at Steve. Steve’s eyebrows raised. “Ndo? Woody Guthrie? ‘This bachide kills fascists?’”

 

Steve felt like he should. The next few seconds of silence indicated otherwise.

 

Eddie chuckled calmly. “Dever mide.” He got up from under the covers and stepped over to the guitar.

 

“Ed,” Steve said softly.

 

“I kdow, I’b dot id ady shape to sing.” Eddie went on, grabbing the neck of the guitar. He sat down on the mattress and laid the guitar across his lap. “But I have beed sort of writing this- *ahem* this song, a’d it’s a little differedt thad what I usually do, a’d… I duddo. Like I said, it bight be a little bare without the lyrics, but would you wadda hear sobe of it?”

 

Steve stared at Eddie in his dark grey oversized t-shirt, crosslegged with the acoustic guitar in his lap. He bent one leg and leaned his arm over it. “Of course.”

 

Eddie started with his fingers higher up on the fretboard. He began to pluck a soft melody, one that Steve had never heard before. He watched as Eddie’s fingers slid further down the neck, the notes descending in pitch and seeming to resolve themselves in a manner that felt warm and serene. The intro led into some steady chords that repeated themselves a few times. For these, Eddie would take his eyes off of the fretboard - either looking down or closing his eyes. Steve rested the side of his head on his arm. It was slow and entrancing, like gentle waves on a shore. There was a break between the chord progression where Eddie played something similar to the intro. It built up, sliding up the fretboard, and then cascading down just as delicately as it began. And then it was over.

 

Eddie’s left hand let go of the guitar’s neck, and he shook it out, smiling bashfully. “Yeah. I dod’t kdow...”

 

“That…” Steve breathed, raising his head. “That was really nice.” His face had gone somewhat serious.

 

Eddie caught his change in expression. When he met Steve’s eyes, he felt a bit nervous. It was like he had just opened up his underwear drawer, or shared a personal diary entry, and there was no going back after the fact. Steve had heard none of the lyrics to the song, but Eddie felt that somehow he knew what the song was about. He glanced down, still feeling Steve’s eyes on him.

 

“Thagks.” He sniffled and rubbed his nose, then stood to put back the guitar. “Weird how these ideas cobe, at such… idcodvediedt tibes…” Eddie wrinkled his nose, his eyes narrowing as he turned away slightly. He fully turned away from Steve, slowly raising an elbow to his face… then his arm dropped, and he groaned, sniffling wetly. “Ah… *snrf!*” he laughed sheepishly, then paused as his breath caught again. “Hih! Huh’ISSCHHioo!! -Ah, fuck… hih!” Eddie sat down on the mattress, and lifted his handkerchief to his face. “Huh’ISSCHHhiuh!! HuhISCHH!! -ISSCHHh!!”

 

“Bless you,” Steve said softly.

 

There was a short pause as Eddie rubbed his nose with the cloth, but Steve had a feeling he wasn’t done. His shaggy head raised for a couple of seconds. Steve caught a glimpse of his sore, red nostrils, flaring before he pitched forward with another desperate sneeze. “EEISSCHHhhiuu!! …Ugh. *snrf!* Jesus. Speakig of bad tibig.”

 

Eddie blew his nose, then pulled back from the handkerchief with a soft sniffle, and a tired sigh. Steve moved closer to him and rubbed his back soothingly, in a similar way to before.

 

“Bless you… You cold? Here.” Steve pulled the blanket and tried to get it over him again.

 

Eddie sniffled and chuckled softly. He crawled back toward the head of the mattress and laid back down so Steve could arrange the blanket over the both of them. He seemed to do so more with an air of satisfaction, leaning into Steve’s chest, feeling his arm come around to hold him. He felt Steve’s chest rise and fall beneath his head.

 

“You kdow… you’d bake a good Arcade Trickster.” Eddie said after a while, his voice soft and croaky.

 

“Why’s that?”

 

“I just thigk you would.”

 

“Does that mean I’m good with deception?”

 

“Ndo. Sort of, but ndot really by poidt. *ahem*” Eddie made another attempt to clear his throat, which didn’t work too well so he tried again. “*ahemm* …Sorry.”

 

“All good.” Steve still wasn’t quite sure what he meant. In the spirit of being too nervous to ask - while pretending, rather, it was that he didn’t want to force Eddie to talk with his sore throat - he remained quiet.

 

Eddie’s head turned so that his left cheek was resting on Steve’s chest. He could hear his heartbeat going steadily, as his gentle breathing came in and out.

 

Steve found himself lost again as he looked down at Eddie, whose eyes were gazing softly at the wall to their left. In times that were weirdly tranquil… perhaps such as this… it would occur to him that he had done something good. Something new, not just to make up for dumb things in the past. Something that both excited and terrified him. It was something that he’d never really focused in on for most of his life, or perhaps had actively been guided away from - that perhaps he’d wanted, but eventually never let himself believe could actually happen. And still… if anyone found out, his instinct would be to do everything in his power to act as if it wasn’t such a phenomenon, as if he’d meant to end up in this position the entire time or that it wasn’t a big deal. Because it really didn’t have to be. Right?

 

Blinking out of his thoughts, he pulled the blanket over Eddie’s shoulders, feeling them descend as he exhaled. His eyes had finally closed, his expression peaceful and still. Steve allowed the calmness to begin to wash over him as well. He gently lifted his left hand to remove his glasses and placed them on the nightstand. As the world shifted into one where the colours and shapes became more blurry and uncertain, he felt safe within a tender, newfound sense of clarity.

Edited November 20, 2022 by Skylacticon

[sweetnerd32]

i love the way this is going so far! whenever i see your profile i know that the story is gonna be good!!!

[Prongs]

I know I said this last time but: 🥹

I just love this! Don’t you dare apologize for the fluff, it’s so sweet and your descriptions are impeccable. Eddie’s sneezing is particularly cute, I love that his nose seems to be more sensitive when he’s sick and he’ll sneeze more than his usual 4, poor guy. Yes, as per the usual, this checks all the boxes for me! 

[Skylacticon]

Hey, glad y'all are liking it so far. 😊 This part kind of lacks sneezing, but there'll be more in the part to come.

(Bit of a CW: blood, anxiety)

 

 

Part 3

 

“So then he sang you a song.”

 

“Played me a song, Robin, he played me a song. On guitar.”

 

“Awww, that is the most romantic thing-“

 

“Right, I mean. Sure, but,” Steve’s face was heating up, defying his blank expression. “Like, I don’t know what it was about.“

 

“Did you ask him?”

 

Steve blinked. “…Well, you know, I-“

 

“You didn’t ask him?”

 

“Well, you see, I didn’t get to ask cuz he just started sneezing like crazy and - I don’t know, I guess I just kind of forgot-“

 

“You forgot.“

 

“Yes.”

 

“Oh, okay.” Robin agreed sarcastically.

 

“I had other things to worry about. It was like, freezing yesterday and he was only wearing a t-shirt.”

 

Robin stopped and spun around with a devilish smirk. “Oh, so you had other things to worry about.” Steve rolled his eyes.

 

“Come on, don’t be gross.”

 

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

Not even three seconds had passed when she started again in a tone that followed her playful stride down an aisle of shelves. “A song though, that’s serious stuff.” Steve groaned. “You sure you’re not curious?”

 

“Well,” Steve started again, but it fizzled off into a hissing sigh. He leaned down on the video cart, intertwining his fingers and squeezing them together. Robin, sliding another tape onto shelf, looked back at him.

 

“You were scared.”

 

“I was not scared.”

 

Robin chuckled. “You were scared. I know I’d be.”

 

“What was I supposed to say?” Steve threw his hands into the air, following Robin around as she re-shelved a stack of tapes. “Gimme that.”

 

“Well,” Robin dumped the heavy stack of tapes into Steve’s arms and stood on her tiptoes to get one onto a high shelf. “It’s as simple as this.” She landed back onto the balls of her feet and faced Steve. “That was amazing, Eddie, what inspired such a beautiful masterpiece?” Robin asked in a fluttery voice, making butterfly kisses with her eyelashes. Then she turned and skipped away.

 

Steve's eyeballs nearly rolled out of his head. He trudged behind her, carrying the stack of tapes. “Oh, you are so full of shit, you don’t even ask Vickie where gets those dumb hats from…”

 

“It’s not about the hats, Steve. And they’re not dumb, they’re handmade…”

 

What set out to be a long eight-hour shift did turn out to be a long, tiring shift. Steve found himself yawning as he sorted through receipts, straightening them neatly into a square pile. He left him in a drawer in the office, then signed out of the system. After dropping off Robin at her house, he began to think about what she’d said. It would be another level of arrogant to assume the song was about him. And they hadn’t even been involved for that long.

 

Before he went to sleep, Steve took his glasses off. He held them in his fingers, looking down at them as he sat on the side of the bed. He tried to push away the thoughts that threatened to flood back, because it was late and if he did, he’d drive himself crazy. Another early shift awaited him the next day, and he intended to show up and work. Pulling the bottom hem of his shirt, he wiped the lenses and put them down on his nightstand.

 

-

 

It was freezing cold. Steve felt the frigid, hard ground underneath his back. Dark clouds loomed overhead, pulsing with lightning. He’d been here before. His ears were filled with the sound of the wind, ice cold, tearing at his face and bare chest. He gasped and sat up, wrapping his arms around himself. There was another sound amidst the whistling wind.

 

High-pitched chittering came from above. Hundreds, thousands of bat-like creatures flying under the heavy clouds. There were so many. Steve’s gaze darted around. The terrain was bare. Just flat dirt for miles. There was nothing. Nothing but him underneath the stormy sky, which was swirling with dark, deadly silhouettes.

 

He felt a sudden sharp pinch strike him in his right shoulder, knocking him onto his side. A swoosh and more chittering. Steve scrambled to his feet, his heart racing. The sky flashed brightly, followed by an earthshaking clap of thunder. A second swoosh passed his ear, and he dodged a second dive attack from a hungry-looking bat. Then another. A fourth came down and struck him across the face. He felt warm blood trickle down his forehead. He swiped it away from his eyes with his palm and started to run. He made it maybe three strides before a fifth bat shot downward and sunk its teeth into his leg, pulling it out from under him and causing him to fall hard onto the rough ground. He winced and tried to shake it off, but more came to pin him down. He screamed and thrashed, but there were too many. As he was losing his view of the sky, he felt a long tail snake around his throat. His heart was beating wildly in his chest. He grabbed at the tail and pulled, but it wouldn’t budge. He gasped and kept trying, using his other hand to swat blindly at the swarm of bats attacking his whole body. There were too many. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t move. He kept trying to pull the tail from his neck, but it only tightened more and more. It was no use.

 

-

 

Steve woke and jolted up immediately, coughing so hard it made his body fold as his eyes blurred with tears. He clutched his chest, panting for air. His throat was burning. His hands quickly travelled to his sides, over the healed but unmistakable ridges of scarring, as his eyes darted around his dark bedroom. He closed his eyes, trying to calm down.

 

It was a dream. It was just a bad dream.

 

His fingers raked through his hair as he bowed his head. Why was he trembling? He wasn’t in danger, and he wasn’t cold, and it was just all in his mind. But it wouldn’t stop. Steve lifted his head, covering his mouth with a shaky hand. He sniffled and wiped roughly at his face. It was hard to breathe. Why was he still shaking? He coughed weakly, wincing as they struck his aching throat. Fresh tears rolled down his cheeks, and he swallowed hard. He steepled his hands and put them over his mouth.

 

The phone rung once. It rung twice. Then a groggy, scratchy-sounding, “Hello?”

 

“Ed?” Steve breathed, clutching the receiver. He hugged his knees with his other arm.

 

“Steve? What’s going on?”

 

“I… I-I’m sorry, I-“

 

“Hey, whoa, whoa.” Eddie still sounded a bit hoarse. He spoke gently. “Are you okay?”

 

“I’m… yeah.” Steve sniffled and wiped his face. He hated his voice when he was like this. “I- I had the dream again, the one where-“

 

“Oh.”

 

“The one with the bats, and there were so many of- hih’ESSCHHhh!! -so many of them. *snrf!* I- I just… I’b sorry.”

 

“Bless you. It’s okay. I’m here. You’re safe.”

 

Steve let out a sigh and wiped his face again. This was stupid. He rubbed his nose, which for some reason had a lingering burning sensation, too. He gripped one of his ankles, willing the shaking to stop.

 

“I need you to take a deep breath for me, okay?” Eddie said calmly.

 

Steve’s breath hitched on a shallow sob. “It’s not working.”

 

“What do you mean, ‘not working?’”

 

“It’s-“ More tears spilled down his cheeks. He out a hand on his forehead, pushing up his hair. “I can’t.”

 

“You can do it. I need you to try for me, honey.”

 

Eddie's voice was firm, but steady enough that Steve listened. Steve sniffled and did his best to breathe deep. It was still shallow, but bigger than the first few tries.

 

Eddie could somewhat hear. “Good. Okay. Keep going. Just- Just focus on my voice, okay? And try to take it nice and slow. In,” he demonstrated out loud. “And out.”

 

“I hate this…” Steve whispered.

 

“I know.”

 

Steve’s grip on his ankle loosened as he attempted more deep breaths. The tremors were still there. Steve closed his eyes as he focused on the gentle sound of Eddie’s voice, helping to guide his breathing. He felt exhausted. His fingers came up to touch his neck, feeling the scars trailing around it. It felt like a ghostly sensation was touching his throat, a hand lightly wrapping around it. He did his best to ward away the feeling.

 

Eddie stayed there on the other line, listening patiently, prompting Steve in a low, calm voice. After a while, Steve felt like he could breathe again.

 

“There we go,” Eddie said gently. “Nice and easy… you’re okay.”

 

Steve sniffled wetly. His throat still felt like it was on fire, but he was too tired to care in the moment. He swallowed hard again. He was fine. He began to feel embarrassed for waking Eddie up.

 

“Sorry,” he whispered.

 

“No, it’s okay,” Eddie continued in his smooth, relaxing voice. “It’s okay, Steve.”

 

Steve turned his head away from the receiver and let out a harsh, throat-clawing sneeze. “ihhG’RRESSCHHhioo!!”

 

“Gesundheit.”

 

“*snrf!* Sorry,” he breathed again.

 

“No need to apologize, Harrington.” Eddie glanced around, tapping his fingers nervously. “Hey. Steve,” he said more seriously. “Are you feeling alright?”

 

“Yeah, *snf*” Steve swiped at moisture in his eyes. “Just stupid anxiety, I know I’m fine, I just…” he trailed off, shaking his head.

 

Eddie let out a quiet breath, stilling his fingers. He paused as Steve sniffled and rubbed his nose. “It’s okay.” he said softly. “I know. Are… Are you in bed?”

 

“*snf* Yeah.”

 

“Okay. Um… Lie down. And… I’ll stay on the line until you fall asleep. Okay?”

 

“Okay.”

 

Steve laid back down on his pillow, keeping the receiver at his ear. He hated that his body wouldn’t let go of these memories. It was so hard, even knowing that they were safe now. But crazy as these things seemed, they had each other to understand.

 

“Eds?” Steve mumbled after a while, staring at the wall.

 

“Mm? I’m still here.”

 

“I-“ he paused. He rubbed his nose gently and sniffled. “Thanks.” Steve said in a small voice.

 

“Of course.”

 

A hint of a smile could be heard in his voice, and it seemed to soothe Steve’s tremors a little. Steve closed his eyes. When he did, all he focused on was the soft breathing in his ear. It wasn’t just him, alone in this. It wasn’t just him.

Edited November 24, 2022 by Skylacticon

[SpookyBoi]

Awww poor Stevie’s catching Eddie’s cold!! I love this fic and I also really like how you write these characters!!! 
 

Can’t wait for the next part!!!!

[Ivorygrace27]

Thank you so much for this! I love that Steve is now the sick one! I love how sentimental and loving your stories are! 

[Prongs]

This is fantastic 🥹 I just want to wrap him up and take care of him. (But I guess them taking care of each other will have to do 😅) you have such a way with words, your descriptions are always on point!

[Skylacticon]

Hey! I'm back with the next part.

I'm just gonna put it out there that there is a bit of implied homophobia. I write from experience, but as a disclaimer I also have no idea what it was like at the time (late 80s drifting to 90s). As always, I appreciate any comments or criticism.

Without further ado:

 

Part 4

 

Eddie smelled something good being cooked outside the trailer. The neighbours must have been making breakfast. The smell reminded him of his middle school years when Uncle Wayne made him breakfast - the only thing that could get him out of bed on most school days. Although lately, he hadn’t been eating as much as usual. A sore throat meant a rough time swallowing, and he’d grown to discipline himself whenever he got sick, leaning toward smarter choices. But sickness also came with the drop in energy, meaning that if said smarter choices just weren’t there, he was at risk of not eating much at all. And because of certain circumstances, they often weren’t. Which was why it stuck in his mind that Steve brought over something that was both delicious and qualified as a smart choice.

 

The temperature was brisk, but it wasn’t that bad for a walk outdoors. It was around the time of year that the mornings were chilly, and would warm up towards the middle of the day. Eddie threw on a flannel and some jeans. He faced the mirror, pulling his long hair from under the shirt. It looked kind of flat. He tried to brush it out, but it seemed to have as much gusto as Eddie did about two days ago. He resorted to tying it up in a folded bun.

 

It wasn’t too far a walk to Steve’s house from the trailer park. Eddie started to sniffle, as the cold air caused his nose to run. He raised the crook of his arm as he felt a sudden tickle in his nose. “huh‘ischh!! -iSCHh!! huh’ISCHHiuh!! *snf!*” He paused, waiting for the last one. No? He sniffed, and lowered his arm.

 

He pulled out his handkerchief and blew his nose softly. His fingers brushed against a pack of cigarettes in his jacket pocket, which he forgot was still there. Given the state of his breathing, it would have been a bad choice. And he was sure that Steve would let him have it if he showed up smelling like smoke. That, he usually didn’t care about, although today he was feeling strangely obedient.

 

Eddie walked the length of the Harrington’s large driveway and stepped up on the porch, then rang the doorbell.

 

He waited for a few seconds. On a regular day, Steve probably wouldn’t be up this early, but he remembered that he said he had an early shift today. The grill sat in its same spot by the garage, looking red and shiny as ever. Eddie jumped, zoning back in as the door finally opened.

 

“Eds,” Steve stood there, one hand combing back his dark hair. He looked good - thankfully not as concerning as he sounded over the phone, or so it seemed. “Hi. What’s - How’s it going?”

 

“Hi. Um, not terrible.” Eddie could sense that something seemed a bit strange, but he inwardly shrugged it off. “I just thought I would check on you. You, uh… you doing alright?”

 

He wasn’t standing too close, although he could hear Steve sniffle somewhat liquidly. “Yeah. Never better.”

 

“Steve, who’s at the door?” A man’s voice called from the inside. Older - presumably Steve’s dad.

 

Steve subtly raised a curled knuckle to his nose and gave it a brief rub, before turning back to respond. “It’s uh, my friend. Eddie.” Eddie’s brow wrinkled slightly. Friend? Steve turned back to Eddie. “Sorry, I have to leave for work soon. Let’s- Let’s chat later, yeah?”

 

Eddie paused for a second. He’d noted Steve’s ability to act casually in a ‘nice guy’ sort of way, but it had been a while since it had felt like… more of a shove to the side. The confusion didn’t last long - he saw the look on Steve’s face when he glanced from inside the house and back to him. He didn’t need this.

 

Trying to bite back any unnecessary sass, he nodded, stepping back. “Yeah. Yeah, chat later.” The act of patience came naturally, and he saw the way Steve looked at him before he closed the door. It was unsure. Apologetic, maybe.

 

Eddie stepped off the porch. He coughed into his arm, the cold air finally starting to get to him. After a dwindling pause, he righted his shoulders and headed back the way he came. Maybe he needed that pack of cigarettes after all.

 

-

 

“Hi! One cheeseburger combo please, with uh, no onions.” Robin tapped her fingers on the counter, swaying absentmindedly. An old country song was playing on the diner’s radio, something she was unable to recognize, but felt catchy. After paying for her order, she slid to the other side of the counter, pocketing her change. When her order was ready, it arrived on a red plastic tray. “Thank you!” She smiled at the bored-looking worker before picking up the tray. 

 

She pivoted and smacked tray-first right into Eddie, who had marched in with an unbreakable stride. Her drink fell and burst open as it hit the floor, fries scattering at their feet.

 

“Oh god. Eddie, I am so so sorry.” she said quickly.

 

“No worries, Buckley.” Eddie chuckled softly, and crouched down, helping her gather the fries. “Sorry about your food.”

 

“I totally should be more careful, this is like the third time this week,” Robin went on apologetically. She picked up the cup and tossed it in the trash, and tried to use the three napkins she’d been given to wipe up the puddle of coke. 

 

“It’s all good, it happens.” Eddie went to the napkin dispenser and pulled out more for her to use.

 

“Thanks.” She laid a few down on top of the puddle to soak it up. “Sorry, you… you looked like you were kinda on a mission there,” she said sheepishly. Eddie said nothing, only collected more fries from the floor. “You okay?”

 

Eddie met her gaze, which was wide-eyed and genuine. His shoulders fell with a sigh.

 

LATER…

 

Steve heard someone pounding on the door. His eyes cracked open, and he sat up wearily on the couch. The pounding persisted.

 

“Alright, alright.” he muttered, rubbing one eye as he walked to the front door. He unlocked it, and swung it open.

 

There stood Robin, fresh off duty in her green vest. “Hey, Dingus.”

 

Steve raised the back of his wrist and cleared his throat. “Robid. Hey, what’s up?”

 

Robin dug her hand into her tote bag and removed a couple of small red and white cans to show Steve. “Well, you said you weren’t feeling well. So I brought… cream of mushroom, tomato, and uh…” She fished out a third. “Veggie alphabet.”

 

She looked so excited about the last one that Steve chuckled, triggering a few harsh coughs. “Shit, sorry.” he swiped at his watery eyes, and tried to clear his throat. “That souds- *ahem* that souds abazig. I dod’t kdow if you’d wadda cobe id, cuz *ahem* evidedtly this is… codtagious…” Steve blinked a few times, turning his head to the side. He wrinkled his nose and sniffled - it looked red around the rims of his nostrils, like he’d been rubbing at it.

 

“I mean,” Robin sighed and dropped the alphabet soup can back into her bag. “You did come in yesterday, and you had been at Eddie’s, so…”

 

Steve tilted his head with a vague grin, and opened the door wider to let her in - a weird and literal ‘be my guest’ kind of gesture. As he shut the door, his nose twitched again, and he pressed the back of his hand against it, feeling in his sweatpants pocket for a tissue.

 

“Gotta love capitalisb,” he croaked.

 

“Right? The best.”

 

“*snrf!* Shit, I have to sdeeze…” he pulled out a folded tissue and raised it to his red, flaring nostrils. “HURRESSCHHhioo!! hih! huh’ESSCHHhioo!! Hih! HURRISSCHHhioo!! *snrf!* Holy shit,” he breathed, rubbing his nose in the tissue.

 

“Bless you,” Robin said pointedly.

 

“Thagk you. *snrff!*” He followed Robin to the kitchen, where she put her tote bag down on the island counter and started removing the cans.

 

“So, what’re we thinking? Mushroom? Tomato?”

 

“Ub, the ode with the letters souded fud.”

 

“Alphabet,” Robin sang, holding up the can and floating it over to the stove. 

 

Steve sat on a stool at the kitchen island and rubbed absentmindedly at his nose. He watched as Robin turned on one of the stovetop burners. “How was, ub… *ahem* How was the store today?”

 

“Uh, not too bad. The usual.” Robin said casually, finding a pot and a can opener. “Keith thinks you’re faking.”

 

Steve scoffed another laugh, which once again, triggered more coughs. “Yeah, I wish.”

 

Robin got the can open and shook out the congealed cylinder of red and alphabet noodles into the pot. “Was beginning to think you might be too,” she went on. “Until I ran into Eddie.”

 

Steve’s expression froze.

 

“Quite literally actually, I almost showered him with my soda.”

 

“*snrf* ...He came to the store?”

 

“No,” Robin began to add water to the red mush, stirring it together. “Ran into him at the diner, at lunch.”

 

Steve’s gaze trailed guiltily around the room. The way she was talking, he knew that she must have known things were off, not only health-wise. Robin finished mixing the water into the soup and rested the spoon on a ceramic tray next to the stove.

 

“Steve,” she said softly, turning to face him as she leaned on the counter. Steve looked at her, but her eyes were elsewhere. He felt worse - she couldn’t even look at him, it was that bad to her. “You know why I waited so long to ask out Vickie?”

 

Steve could sense a lecture coming. He sniffled and gently rubbed his nose. “Cuz you were worried she was the wrong girl?”

 

“Yeah,” she replied, glancing down. “But,” she looked up again, towards the dining table. “I also waited the way I did because if she was the wrong girl, it didn’t have to mean that she was some terrible person. It just meant that it wasn’t… safe.” She let the last word out on an exhale, as if finding courage to say this out loud.

 

Steve stared down at the hardwood floor. He understood what she was getting at. It just wasn’t that simple to handle.

 

“I…” he started quietly, then sniffed and raised his chin. “I did’t kdow he was cobig, I…” Steve shook his head.

 

“I know, your parents were there.” Robin said, watching him with knowing eyes.

 

“Yeah,” Steve breathed. 

 

A sudden hiss broke the silence, making them both jump. Robin turned back to the stove, where the soup was boiling over. “Oh shit, I’m sorry…” She quickly moved the pot off the burner and switched it off, then grabbed a paper towel from the roll, dragging a train of white rectangles with it.

 

“That’s okay. Here,” Steve tore the paper towel, and Robin wiped up the mess. She ripped the long piece into smaller ones, wiping the bottom of the pot and carefully setting it down on the counter. Then she crouched down to wipe the floor. Steve grabbed some and carefully dabbed around the stove burner. Afterwards, he paused and sighed. “I bade a bess of this, did’t I?”

 

Robin stopped and looked up at him. Her eyes were hard to read. “I want to say that you didn’t,” she answered quietly. “All I can say is that I understand why it happened.”

 

Steve let out a long breath, gazing around the kitchen. Robin finished cleaning up, and threw out the paper towels. Steve paced toward the dining table, a wave of uneasiness washing over him. He sat down at the table. He raised his elbow as another harsh string of sneezes hit him.

 

“huh’ESCHHh!! hih! HURRISSCHHhioo!! *snrf* hih… Ah’ISSCHHIEWW!! *sdrf* -ugh… oh, by god…” Steve emerged looking dazed, and used his sleeve to wipe his watery eyes.

 

Robin came over with two bowls and put one down in front of him. “Bless you,” she said softly, sitting down at the table.

 

“Ugh… What a…” Steve sniffled wetly and shook his head, staring at the table. “What ad asshole bove.” Robin sighed sympathetically. “Doe, cuz I could’ve called hib, Robid, but I didn’t.” Steve let out a frustrated breath, his arm raising as his nose twitched again. His frame rose as he leaned back and away from Robin, and let out a loud, desperate sneeze. “hihh-! HURRESSCHHIEWW!!”

 

“Bless you,” Robin said again, offering a sympathetic smile.

 

“*snrff* Ugh... God. I’b sorry.” Steve muttered, snuffling wetly and wiping his teary eyes. His face had gone red, and whether it had been out of self-consciousness, the sickness itself, or his relationship in jeopardy, Robin felt for him all the same. He leaned forward on the table, picking up his spoon and beginning to stir his soup with it. “Is he mad?” Steve asked quietly, after a moment of silence.

 

Robin tilted her head slightly. “I mean… It seemed more like - he’d been dreading it. Like he knows it wasn’t a good time, but he’s still-“

 

“Hurt, I kdow.” Steve sighed again. He wished he'd just talked to him.

 

“You could’ve just not told your parents.”

 

“I kdow.”

 

Robin’s eyes moved downward. That was more of a thought that came out verbally, after which she realized it wouldn’t be entirely helpful. Her gaze drifted back up to Steve. Slowly, she reached out and touched his forearm. 

 

“Eddie… said something about a panic attack last night.” she said cautiously. Steve looked away. “Are… Have you been okay, Steve?”

 

Steve sniffled again and turned back. He let out a small breath, like a sad laugh. If only people would stop asking him that. “The thing is… yeah. Yeah, I really have.” he responded genuinely. “It’s just…” He stirred his soup some more. “Beig with hib lately has beed so great. And…”

 

“Yeah?”

 

Steve let go of his spoon and gestured with his hands, admitting his thoughts aloud to his bowl of alphabet soup. “Well, I cad prete’d that it doesd’t scare be, but he’s the first guy I’ve ever… gotted involved with.”

 

Robin’s soft expression hardened a little, but a tiny grin pulled at the corners of her lips. She reached forward again. “I know that, Dingus.” she said, smiling gently at Steve. His eyes finally met hers. He glanced down at her hand and sighed.

 

“And… *snrf!* Like, it’s beed a while sidce I’ve… beed serious with sobeode. So, I…” 

 

“So it’s kinda like a double-whammy for you?”

 

Steve scoffed gently. “…I guess I freaked out a little bit.”

 

Robin pouted a little, sympathetically. Then she sighed and spoke earnestly. “It won’t always be easy… when you’re caught up in what other people will think. Take it from me.” Robin grinned softly at him. “But you guys seem to have a good thing.” Steve grinned back a little, and glanced down at his soup. Robin patted his arm. “Look, I gotta go. I promised my mom I’d help her clean the house. Let’s hope I don’t spill more things.” The two smiled at each other.

 

“*snf!* Yeah, that bay be coudteridtuitive.”

 

“Yeah,” Robin chuckled. “And, um,” she looked back at him as she slung her tote bag over her shoulder. “Give Eddie a call, okay?” she asked softly, reaching out to ruffle Steve’s hair.

 

“Okay, okay, I will.”

 

“Okay. Feel better soon.”

 

“Thagks, Robid.”

 

Robin grinned at him softly one last time before turning to leave. Steve rubbed his nose and stared downward.

 

-

 

The sun was getting lower as Steve arrived at the trailer park. When he stepped out of the car, he could see his breath in front of him. He shut the car door and put his hands in his jacket pockets, then made his way up the steps to the Munson’s trailer door. He raised a fist and knocked three times.

 

“Hey, Eddie?” He called. There was silence. Steve glanced around. Was he this upset? He knocked again. “Eddie, it’s me.”

 

The door opened. But instead of Eddie, it was his Uncle Wayne. Steve stared at him in mild surprise. Why, Doofus? He lives here, too.

 

“Hi,” he said, somewhat awkwardly.

 

“Hi,” Wayne replied. “You’re the Harrington boy, aren’t you?”

 

“Ye- *ahem* Yeah. Steve, dice to beet you.” 

 

“Wayne. Nice to meet you too. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

 

Steve nodded. For a second, he felt an impulse to shake his hand, but he just remembered that he was sick. He rocked awkwardly on the balls of his feet. “Ub, is Eddie hobe?” he asked nervously.

 

“No, no, he’s out playing one of his shows.” Steve glanced down, then nodded. A show? He’d been well enough to perform? Wayne stared at Steve, who was shivering slightly with his hands in his pockets. “Are you alright, son?” he asked gently.

 

Steve glanced up at him again. “*snf* Yeah, I’b fide. Ub… Thagk you. Sorry to bother you, have a good dight.” Steve said hurriedly, and turned to leave.

 

“Yeah, you too.” Wayne watched him go, scurrying down the steps to his car. “Hey, stay warm out there,” he called after Steve. “Remind Eddie to wear his jacket. The poor rascal.” 

 

Steve glanced back from the open car door at Wayne, who stood in the same position in the trailer doorway. “Will do,” Steve replied, with a small nod. With that, he ducked into the driver’s seat and shut the car door. His headlights shone brightly as he pulled out of the trailer park and back out onto the open road.

 

Edited November 26, 2022 by Skylacticon

[Ivorygrace27]

LOVE THIS!!!!! Thank you so much for adding more! I love your writing. You capture the characters so well!

[Prongs]

Ohhh the angst! And now they’re both sick and either upset, confused, or both, and now Eddie is playing a show?! Steve, go find him and make it right! 🥺

[SpookyBoi]

Ooooh...I have a feeling Eddie's show isn't going to go so well!!! Steve go find your boyfriend, go make up with the man and kiss, it'll be fine they're both already sick. 🤣

Edited December 1, 2022 by ChickyNuggetOfJustice

[Skylacticon]

Hey all! I’ve been sitting on this for a bit not wanting to post it yet because I know when I do, this lil mini series will be over. (Nah, maybe not exactly. I may come back to write more fics here and there. )

I really enjoyed writing this one. I have a confession to make: this thread was originally supposed to be in two parts, but I got inspired to write way more haha. I’m glad y’all liked it, and I hope you like this next part.

So, without further ado:

 

 

Part 5

 

“HRRTSCHHh!! hHURRISSCHHioo!! Hih! HURRESSCHHIOO!! *sdrf!* hihh-“ Steve could barely focus on driving, blinking through teary eyes, sniffling wetly as his nose ran like a faucet. There was a tickly buzzing sensation that wouldn’t quite leave him alone, teasing his nasal passages, seeming to be adamant no matter how much he sneezed. “Hih! Hihh!” He quickly threw the crook of his arm up to his face. “HURRISSCHHIEWW!! *sdrf, sdrff* hah'EH’TDJSSCHHIEWW!! *snnnrff* …ughh… *snrk* Fugck…”

 

Dazed and one-handed, he reached into the glove compartment and found some spare napkins. Luckily, he came to a stop and took the opportunity to hastily fold a couple of napkins and blow his drippy nose. The need to sneeze actually backed off some, although the congestion still persisted. His sinuses were beginning to ache, and he knew that that could get bad. He sniffled thickly and wiped his eyes, once again refocusing on the task at hand.

 

He finally reached the building, and put the car in park. Breath hitching, he reached for another napkin and sneezed wetly into it. “Huh’KJDSCHHh!! -ughh…” Steve coughed and rubbed his sore nostrils. “Ah’KGJSCHHh!!-unhh, *sngk!*” He rubbed his nose hard and sniffled. At this point, he was pretty blocked up. He pocketed a few napkins and checked his hair in the mirror.

 

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, as he saw his reflection. His hair was mussed up, his eyes bleary and tired-looking. His nose was red and not to mention, still very sniffly. He tried to rearrange his hair a little, and tried one last vain attempt to blow his nose before leaving the car.

 

The building was a little seedy-looking at first glance. He’d been here a few times, walking hastily in and out with Eddie and his band between performances. Steve passed the coffee shop and walked up the steps toward the venue, the stairway seeming to vibrate with the heavy bass emanating from above. The music greeted him with a blast as he pushed open the door. A few people sat at the dim bar, lounging on rickety stools. It was a mix of young adults and people he somewhat recognized from high school. The people crowded around the stage were swaying and moving their arms, pumping their fists. Steve glanced around the crowd, trying not to bump into people.

 

“Hey,” one of the older men by the bar called out to him. Steve kept scanning the room, stepping in front of the bar. “Aren’t you the one who’s dating that freak from Corroded Coffin?”

 

Although caught off guard, Steve kept his expression blank. He crossed his arms, leaning back on the bar. “Yeah, and what about it?” he responded in a low voice, without looking at the man.

 

The man said nothing for a bit. Steve watched the band that was currently playing. He’d forgotten their name, but he remembered that Eddie said they always overdid it with the bass. That it drowned everything else out. Steve was beginning to understand what that meant, when the man raised his voice to speak over the music again. “He’s on next. You’re right on time.”

 

Steve turned to look at the man again, who nodded at him before walking away. Steve casually raised a curled index finger to rub his nose, and lifted his gaze to the stage once again, where the band was making a show of drawing out the intense, crashing ending of their song. When the lead guitarist seemed to run out of notes, the drummer came down hard with both of his sticks, in a violent finale. The crowd erupted with cheers.

 

“Thank you Hawkins!!!” the lead singer shrieked. Steve found it a bit cheesy, but the crowd seemed to love it.

 

He felt a sudden itch in his throat and started to cough, turning to the side with the back of his wrist over his face. He realized that amidst the talking and cheering in the room, no one could really hear him or care to notice. Clearing his throat, he resumed his position by the bar, watching as the bands switched out.

 

He saw Gareth, who came up looking pumped, and took his seat behind the drum set. After him came Jeff, and then another member whose name Steve couldn’t seem to recall. Steve was beginning to wonder if Eddie had skipped out - and for a moment, felt a touch of relief. Then his stomach did a small flip as he noticed someone with a dark, shaggy ponytail near the front of the crowd. Steve craned his neck to look closer. Someone in front seemed to be giving him the rundown of something. Eddie nodded, twisting the lid back on a water bottle. He was wearing a black muscle tank and black ripped jeans, a red flannel tied around his waist. Eddie walked up on stage, and put the water bottle on the floor by the drum set. Then, Steve watched as he pulled his guitar strap over his head and looked over at his band mates. They looked ready to roll.

 

There was a blip of feedback as Eddie grabbed the handheld mic on the stand in front of him. A teasing pause as his eyes scanned the crowd. “How’s everyone doing tonight?” A relatively calm start. The crowd cheered, a few shouted out some things to Eddie in particular. Steve folded his arms. A low chuckle vibrated the room, making Steve’s insides tingle. “Alright, alright. This one’s called ‘Persephone’, Gareth, take it away.” The moment the words escaped Eddie’s lips, Gareth began striking out an impossibly fast intro of beats, then led the band into full dive of instrumental.

 

It was thick and heavy with fuzz on the rhythm guitar, plunging deep with the bass. The percussion was still there, unmistakably keeping them in time, however just as wild. After a couple of bars, a high lead guitar split through, seeming to climb the notes of the rhythm chords and up through the ceiling. Steve watched Eddie’s fingers as they swiftly changed up and down through scales, bending the strings and making the guitar squeal.

 

Steve got so entranced by it for a moment, that he forgot about the creeping itch in his sinuses. He also remembered to blink, his eyes widening as they blurred with moisture. He fished out one of the napkins in his pocket and pinched it to his nose, turning to the side. “HRRISCHHhh!! -AAESCHHh!! …hih! AAESSCHHhioo!!” He was confident at this point that he couldn’t be heard above the music, otherwise he would’ve made more effort to be discreet.

 

Someone else was singing lead vocal on the song. Steve supposed that somewhat relieved him. He kept watching with wonder as Eddie made effortless riffs, his fingers moving like a blur across the fretboard.

 

After a while, the song ended and the crowd cheered. Steve had found himself a seat at the bar, still with a somewhat good view of the stage.

 

“Hey, sweet thing.” Steve turned swiftly. A girl he didn’t know, with jet black pigtails and dark red lipstick appeared behind him, leaning across the bar. She smirked coquettishly. “Can I get you anything?”

 

“Uh…” Steve paused awkwardly for a second. He blinked, feeling the girl’s gaze explore him. “Water, please.” he said politely.

 

Just then, the next song began. The girl slid a cold bottle of water over to Steve, which he paid for, and turned back around. He began to watch the technique of the other performers: the way Gareth chose certain drums in such a quick fashion, or how the bass player seemed to stand relatively still in comparison to the others. Metal hadn’t always been Steve’s cup of tea. There were a few songs here and there that he could thrash to, but otherwise, he was more of a classic rock-punk-folk type of guy. Glam, even. He didn’t often get too deep into what specific genre was what. Maybe that was the problem.

 

After another intense song, Steve lost sight of Eddie over the heads in the crowd. He then spotted him off to the side, with the crook of his elbow up to his face. Steve shifted in his seat, only breathing out when Eddie’s arm lowered. Eddie took a few gulps from his water bottle, and strode back towards the middle of the stage. Although away from the mic, he heard him laugh and say something like “Don’t smoke, kids.” Steve sighed softly.

 

He was beginning to wonder if he should leave. Eddie seemed to be having a good time back in front of an audience - although he still might not appear to be one hundred percent, he seemed okay.

 

Then, Eddie stepped over to the mic that was placed centre stage and put his hand on it. He spoke solemnly. “Alright, due to unforeseen circumstances… our band is gonna have to - continue, because we’re so awesome.” Eddie finished cleanly, a smile spreading across his face. More applause and cheering. Even Steve chuckled softly. Eddie turned away from the mic and cleared his throat. “Thank you,” Eddie nodded, his dimples showing alongside his charming grin. “We got one more tonight. Um, this next one is called ‘Beelzebub’. It’s a special one. And uh, I hope you like it.”

 

The room went quiet. Eddie remained where he was standing. His left hand started higher up on the fretboard of the guitar. After a couple of seconds, he began to pluck out a soft melody. His hand slid down as he played the intro, the notes descending gently and ending in a warm resolution.

 

Steve felt like he was the only person in the room for a moment. He could see Eddie playing this same melody when they were in his bedroom, in his baggy Black Sabbath t-shirt, after he’d made faces from the taste of that cough syrup. He was right, it did seem different from the rest of their set.

 

Although this time, after the lead intro on guitar, Eddie started to sing.

 

There’s something in the water, that they say

Kicking about, looking every which way

 

Steve didn’t know how good this could be for Eddie’s throat.

 

There’s something about the stormy skies

And they’re reaching down for all of us

I don’t wanna die

 

It was sombre. It was sweet. Then Eddie strummed a chord that slid down the fretboard in a curious interlude. Then he strummed it again, sliding the chord back up the fretboard. Then Gareth and Jeff started to slam on their instruments, and the music crashed into what Steve realized was the version of the song Eddie had in his head.

 

He’s coming down, one more time, I gotta slip away, oh no, I gotta hide

I’m all alone, below the stone

And I see fear inside those eyes, although they slip away, oh boy, I wanna cry

Take me home for just one night

 

Steve’s gaze averted, trailing around the room. There was no way that anyone could know what it was really about. Could he? The music built up before the chorus, Eddie’s voice accompanied by backup vocals. There was an impressive amount of trills that he was able to hit. Then came the chorus, which was more bare and abrupt, words shouted followed by more slamming on guitar.

 

Something’s in the water, they think I’m the devil’s son

Hell is getting hotter, man, they got me on the run

 

Steve’s gaze found its way back to Eddie, whose gravelly voice yelled the next pair of lines.

 

Prince of all the demons, they think I’m the best one

Hell is getting hotter, man, they got you on the run

 

There was an amount of satisfaction that seemed to come from the aggression of the music. How could you feel scared of anything when you could stand in front of a crowd, backed by your friends, and scream your innermost thoughts to the world?

 

But you always had some kind of faith

And you owed me nothing

Oh, your best mistake

And you dived right into the freezing water to save my life

And you took my ice cold hand

And you looked me in the eyes

 

It was funny how much of this was actually literal. That water was fucking cold, and Steve was pretty sure of his death when he got pulled back in. Although it did sound pretty badass being belted out in a hard rock song. Well, you know, if that was what it was about, of course. Between the verses, Eddie didn’t jump around as much as he did the other songs. The song was solid, and it had meaning behind it.

 

Something’s in the water, they think I’m the devil’s son

Hell is getting hotter, man, they got me on the run

Prince of all the demons, they think I’m the best one

Hell is getting hotter, man, they got you on the run

 

Steve watched over the heads bobbing in the crowd, as Eddie went into a guitar solo. It was slower paced than all the shredding, but intense. Steve could see him doing this in front of thousands. His passion and his attitude held no doubt, and his talent was beyond words.

 

In a curious way, the song seemed to finish faster than the others. It dissipated into the series of delicate electric notes from the beginning, and then it was over.

 

The crowd showered them with applause, cheering and whistling. Steve clapped, a proud smile spread across his face. He watched as Eddie stood there, grinning appreciatively, enjoying the attention. His eyes met Steve’s over the crowd for a moment - or so it seemed. The grin wavered for a moment, then returned as his gaze drifted across the audience and toward his bandmates. Steve leaned back on the bar. After a minute or two had passed, he slowly got to his feet.

 

-

 

The door to the lounge swung open as the band barged inside.

 

“Fuckin’ hell, that was awesome, man!” Gareth’s hand slapped Eddie’s hard, squeezing it before letting go.

 

“Hell yeah!” Eddie laughed, sticking out his tongue.

 

“You see that crowd today?” Jeff chirped, sauntering into the lounge.

 

“Crazy, oh my gosh,” Gareth raised his hand again and Jeff high-fived him with a loud smack.

 

Eddie opened his bottle of water again and took a sip. He cleared his throat softly and pulled the guitar strap over his head, setting it down against the wall. He then plopped down with a dramatic sigh on the arm of the brown leather sofa. “Another one for the books, gentleman.” he said smoothly, raising the water bottle in a toast.

 

“Hell yeah,” Jeff replied, kneeling to put his guitar back in the case.

 

“Woo!” Gareth cheered.

 

“Hear, hear,” another voice said.

 

Eddie looked up toward the doorway of the small lounge space. Someone familiar stood against the doorframe, his arms folded in his grey jacket. It looked like he’d had a rough day. And looked like it was still going.

 

Eddie’s posture straightened, his feet touching the floor. “Steve,” he said quietly. He put the water bottle down.

 

Steve raised one of his hands in a shy wave. They stared at each other for a moment. One of the latches on Jeff’s case clicked shut, breaking the silence.

 

“Hey, Gareth, uh,” he said after a few seconds. “I’m feeling pretty thirsty, aren’t you?”

 

Gareth turned to Jeff. “There’s a sink, right over- oh.” Gareth looked at Eddie and Steve, then over to Jeff. “Yeah. Parched. Let’s hit the bar.”

 

“Cool,” Jeff replied. “Back in a few,” he nodded to Eddie, who nodded back awkwardly, then the two fled the scene.

 

Steve stepped slowly into the room. His eyes darted around the room, his hands quietly drumming his thighs. He took a breath.

 

“So,” he murmured softly.

 

“So,” Eddie murmured back.

 

“…Pridce of the debods, huh? That’s pretty badass.” Steve’s instinct was to find some humour, although his croaky voice was a bit concerning.

 

Eddie scoffed. “Well, if I’m prince of anything, it’s definitely not the angels.” Steve’s eyes softened as Eddie diverted his gaze. “I mean, according to Pastor Kevin, my fourth grade teacher, and the old hags who live at the end of the trailer park.” Eddie rubbed the back of his neck, heaving a sigh. “I’ve known for a pretty long time, Stevie. But, you know, it’s not exactly like character building. Didn’t get to choose that part.” he said dimly.

 

Steve nodded vaguely. Eddie had a way with telling stories of a darker nature. It made you want to listen and sink in, even if it was painful. Or maybe Steve just thought that because he had a soft spot for Eddie. Or the way his voice was just so damn soothing. Still, although he was terrified, he had no intention of going anywhere.

 

“Yeah, same here.” Steve breathed. He felt dumb for saying that. He put his hands in his pockets, and glanced down. “Look, I’b…”

 

Eddie stood quickly, and paced a few steps away. “No, I get it.” he shrugged. Steve watched, feeling dread consume him. “It wasn’t a good time. And I should have called first.”

 

“Ed… *sdrf!*”

 

Eddie glanced back at Steve. “Jesus.” He came up and took a closer look at him. “You okay?” he asked softly. One of his hands came up to touch Steve’s face.

 

“Yeah,” Steve whispered, his eyes avoiding Eddie’s.

 

“Steve,” Eddie pressed.

 

“Look, I feel shitty, okay?” Steve admitted abruptly, softly. “But that’s dot what I… *snrf!*“ He sniffled harshly and swiped under his nose. Eddie’s hand descended as Steve began to speak earnestly, staring past him at the wall with glassy eyes. “I kdow how by folks would react - if they kdew about us. And you kdow I dod’t care about that, but - apparedtly I did, id the bobedt, and… I’b sorry. I acted like an idiot, and I froze, and… I shouldn’t have let it…” Steve exhaled, his mouth still open, searching for words that weren’t there on the chipped painted wall he was staring at.

 

Eddie looked like he wanted to reach for Steve again. But he stood still, his gaze caught on Steve’s shins as the silence in the room made way for the muffled bass and crazed cheering coming from the stage.

 

“Scared me a little, when you didn’t call,” Eddie said softly, after a few seconds.

 

“I should’ve.” Steve breathed, blinking downward.

 

Eddie glanced up at him. “And you look… less than fine.”

 

Steve coughed out a weak chuckle. “Yeah, no doubt.” He cleared his throat. “Look, I… I understand if you dod’t wadda waste your tibe, cuz… clearly, I’b not the sharpest tool in the… in the shed,” Steve inwardly cringed at the words spilling out of his mouth. Clearly, you’re not much of a smooth talker, either.

 

“Hey,” Eddie breathed. His arms came up to wrap around Steve’s shoulders. Steve paused for a second, then embraced him back, feeling Eddie’s warmth start to relax him. “We’re okay,” Eddie whispered calmly, after a few seconds. Steve stared at the couch behind Eddie.

 

“…Yeah?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Steve held onto him tightly, as if he would disappear any second. “I dod’t wadda lose you,” he breathed into Eddie’s shoulder.

 

“Hey. You’re not gonna.” Eddie rubbed Steve’s back, his chin tucked over his shoulder. “It’s gonna take a lot more than that to get rid of me, Stevie.” Steve felt Eddie’s frame rise and fall with each steady breath. After a bit, they drew back slightly. Eddie’s hands remained gently perched on Steve’s shoulders. He ran his thumb over the defined muscle through his clothes. “You know… If it’s any consolation, I’m sorry for giving you my terrible sickness. You know, putting the plague onto your house.”

 

That made Steve laugh softly, as they pulled further back from one another. He sniffled wetly, looking down at Eddie’s ringed fingers on top of his own. Steve’s fingers let go and drifted down to Eddie’s waist.

 

Eddie glanced down, chuckling softly. “What’re you up to? -oh.”

 

With a couple more tries, Steve managed to undo the double-knotted sleeves of Eddie’s flannel. “You should be wearig this…”

 

“Yeah. I got hot though.” Steve shook it out and held it so Eddie could put his arms in the sleeves.

 

“You’re coughing still, I saw you,” Steve said gently.

 

“Yeah…” Eddie said resignedly, shrugging into the flannel. A smirk pulled at the corners of his lips. “Bet you dug seeing my sick tats though, right?”

 

“Oh, totally.” Steve grinned, then turned away quickly as his runny nostrils flared. “HURRISCHHhh!! -ugh, I’b sorry… *sdrff!*” he sniffled wetly, reaching into his pockets for another napkin. He took a step back and lifted the napkin to his red nose. “Huh’RESSCHHhiu!! hih’-! HRRUSSCHHhioo!! Ugh… *sdrf!* Excuse be."

 

“Bless you,” Eddie breathed, and gently rubbed Steve’s shoulder.

 

“Thagks. *sdrf* Sorry, I’ve beed doig that all day.”

 

Eddie watched sympathetically as Steve wiped his nose and sniffled thickly. “C’mon.” Eddie moved away to grab his guitar. “I wanna make sure you get home to a warm bed,” he laid a black guitar case onto the floor and opened it up. “And that’s not gonna happen if we stick around.”

 

“*snrf* You dod’t wadda see the next band?”

 

“Uh…” Eddie casually shut the guitar in its case, and flipped the latches down. “I can see those losers next time.” He grabbed his leather jacket and threw it on. “Because right now, I-“ Eddie paused for dramatic effect. “-am kidnapping you.”

 

“Oh, is that so?” Steve rasped, with a playful grin.

 

“Hey, you walked into the trap, you’re officially mine now.”

 

“Oh doe, whatever will I do?” Steve watched fondly as Eddie tucked his hair behind his ear. "Your udcle's hobe, though, he adswered the door when I wedt to your place."

 

"Ah, he's working tonight," Eddie grinned up at Steve. "Plus," he paused, looking down again. "He knows."

 

Steve stared at Eddie, who took a final survey of the lounge. "He does?"

 

"Yup."

 

"No shit," Steve breathed. 

 

"Yup,“ Eddie breathed out again. He threw an arm around Steve, as they both exited the lounge. "That’s right, it’s my turn to poison you.”

 

A wheezy chuckle echoed down the long hall, followed by a chesty cough. “Mb... twenty od charisba. Got be.”

 

Eddie’s jaw dropped. Steve felt his arm tug around his shoulders excitedly. God, he missed this Eddie. “What was that? Did you just make a DND reference?”

 

“Hb, baybe,” Steve muttered, a grin pulling at the corners of his lips.

 

“Ohhh, yes. Prince Steve of Savas,” Eddie announced to the empty hall, in a deep, official-sounding tone. He leaned closer to Steve and teased him softly. “Who is the nerd now?”

 

“‘Pridce’?” He repeated, in a witty, judging tone. “How about ‘Steve the Bighty Warrior’? Hih! hEH’TJDSCHHhh!! huh’ESSHHIUHhh!! *sdrff*” Steve sniffled wetly, and raised the folded napkin to wipe his drippy, red nose.

 

Before they reached the end of the hall, Eddie gave Steve a kiss on the side of the head. “Sure, okay, sweet pea.” Eddie murmured, rubbing Steve’s shoulder.

 

Eddie said goodbye to his bandmates on their way out. The two headed down the steps and past the cafe. As their footsteps trailed out of the venue and into the chilly evening, they held onto each other for warmth.

 

Steve felt safe next to Eddie, his bold, spiked leather clad, electric guitar-slinging boyfriend. He had come to terms with the fact that he may not have been as clever or wise in the past - and perhaps that was still the case. Yet somehow he seemed to have wound up with somebody who was willing to fight for him, and he would do his best to fight for him too.

 

One might have hoped for more clarity in a situation like this. But that was something that would come in time. For now, the cold wind would blow across their faces, and the tall lights in the parking lot would cast long shadows of them across the ground... Moving together as one.

 

 

 

THE END.

[snifflesncuddles]

I've been a forever lurker but had to tell you how much I love how you write these two! It's everything you could ever ask for- great plot, prose, Steve/Robin brotp, Steve/Eddie beautifully in-character, etc.

I definitely hope you do feel inspired to write more. xx

[Prongs]

Awww, poor Steve, he got it rough! I love the idea of him catching Eddie’s cold though and the two of them switching off who’s doing the caretaking. What a sweet ending ❤️ I’ll be keeping an eye out for more of your writing in the future! 

[funbusej]

Awww, I always get so caught up in their drama!!  You really do such a good job with these characters, and the stories are always endearing and engaging.  Can't wait to see what else these 2 will get up to!!