The Pasta Verdict (Stranger Things, Steve)

[Skylacticon]

Hey all. Thanks for the comments on my last post. <3 I’m feeling a lot better now, still resting up. 

Here’s some more domestic Steddie fluff. Hope you like. 

 

-

 

There was a rustle as a poster fell from Eddie’s wall. He startled and turned his head around quickly - then sighed and stood to pick it up. It was an old one from an event, years ago. His band had a slot at one of the pubs in town, and he’d drawn up a notice with a coffin-shaped border and a pair of creepy skeleton hands gripping the sides of it. It occurred to him that they’d come a long way since then. Lately, he’d been busy scheduling meetings with important people, who’d say that he was an important person, and it was all so much so fast; but also very exciting for him and the band. It was a lot to take in - which was why he hadn’t spoken in hours. He was supposed to fill out some comprehensive forms given to him by the band’s new manager, which also felt unreal in itself. He’d gotten through quite a lot of them at this point, although he was in dire need of a break.

 

Eddie put some new tape on the back of the poster, smoothed it back onto the wall, and walked out of the bedroom. He yawned, stretching his arms up above his head. It was getting dim as the sun was slowly setting outside, and peacefully quiet.

 

Well, not completely quiet.

 

Another soft, liquid sniffle came from beyond the kitchen. Eddie saw the top of Steve’s messy brown hair from behind the counter. He’d been sniffling for a while - sometimes followed by a hard, squelchy rub at his nose. Eddie could hear him breathing through his mouth, sometimes shakily, and the sniffling went on.

 

Eddie peeked into the living room, where Steve sat on the couch, focusing on an open book held in front of him. His eyes were squinting behind his round, wire frame glasses, visibly processing information. He sniffled sharply, and rather liquidly, and wrote something in the notebook beside him. Then he exhaled heavily, straightening. His narrowing eyes were glancing around. He spotted the tissue box, and pulled a couple of tissues from it, then hastily tried to fold them before- “hUH’EDJSSCHHhioo!!! Hih’-! uh’ESSCHH!! *sdrf!*” 

 

Steve exhaled with a low grunt, and sniffled wetly, reaching for more tissues. Unexpected by Eddie, he brought them to his eyes first, which now that he’d noticed, looked rather red and glassy. Steve rubbed fiercely at his nose, leaning closer to the book to read the text. Suddenly, his nose twinged, and he gasped softly. Quick as a flash, he managed to raise his fingers over his flaring nostrils before spraying all over the page.

 

“Uh’BJSCHHh!! -uhh, *snnrff!*” He coughed lightly after that one.

 

“Bless you,” Eddie said gently, walking up and rubbing Steve’s back. “You okay?”

 

“Yeah…” Steve replied, wiping an eye with an index finger under his glasses. “*snrff!* Got these dowd at the library, ahhd ub….” His nostrils flared, and he turned his head away slightly. “Thigk that they’re- pretty dusty. -Hih! Hah’ESSCHHhiu!! *snrf!*” 

 

“Bless you,” Eddie kept rubbing his back. “I see.”

 

“Adyway, it’s dot that bad.” Steve coughed again, lightly. “I’b sure it’ll die down. *ahem! sddrff*” He raised a knuckle to rub his nose. “These are actually helpful… *snrf!* They go id-depth about techdiques that’ve beed used for centuries.” 

 

“Wow,” Eddie breathed, peeking over. “Did you take anything for it, sweetheart?” He was stroking Steve's hair now.

 

“Dot yet,” Steve mumbled. “Id a bidute,” he said, and started making more notes. Eddie drew back his hand, as Steve's head bobbed around eccentrically. He watched him getting engrossed in his studying, feeling fondness for him spread in his chest.

 

“I’ll get it for you,” Eddie murmured, and kissed the top of his head.

 

“Oh,” Steve peeked up from the books, to see Eddie was actually serious. His brown eyes softened. “Thagk you.”

 

“Of course.” 

 

As Steve proceeded to scribble down notes, Eddie stepped into the kitchen. It had been about two weeks after Steve had just begun a culinary program at college, and he seemed to be very passionate about what he was learning. This was interesting for Eddie to observe, as one - he himself had no current plans to apply for post-secondary education and two - he’d never seen Steve Harrington so serious about schoolwork. Especially when it involved food and cooking and the fine artistic details that Eddie couldn’t seem to understand. There was something awfully endearing about it.

 

There was half a blister pack left of Claritin in the medicine cupboard. Eddie popped out one of the pills and poured a glass of water. As he turned, he could hear Steve pull another tissue from the box, and walked into the living room to see him fold it over his nose.

 

“hH'RRISSCHHh!! *snf*” Steve sniffled and cleared his throat, lowering the tissue.

 

“Bless you.” Eddie said softly. He offered Steve the pill and the glass of water.

 

“Thagks.” Steve swallowed the pill and put the glass on the coffee table. He blinked his pink, itchy eyes, returning his gaze to his book.

 

“You, um… wanna eat?” Eddie asked softly. A humoured grin spread across his face. “That stuff ever make you hungry?”

 

“Ub, yeah. Id a secod…” Steve sniffled again and rubbed his nose. “This is idterestig, I dever kdew how buch of a differedce altering diffedt beasurebedts id like the smallest bit, could bake. *sdrf!* heh’TSCHHhiuh!! *sdrf*” He raised his wrist to block the sneeze, and dropped it as if nothing happened.

 

“Bless you.”

 

“Thagk you,” Steve mumbled, and lifted his wrist again to swipe under his nose. “I always wondered why bide looked so differedt…”

 

“I like your cookies,” Eddie breathed, cuddling next to Steve, snaking his left arm under Steve’s right. He intertwined their fingers, snaring Steve’s right hand in his.

 

Steve almost dropped the book, having to set it down to rub his nose. “Ohh… maybe I should take a break…” he muttered breathily. He was rubbing pretty hard, and his nostrils were flushed red. He pulled another tissue, but before he had the time to fold it, the sneeze came out freely. “Huh’TJDSCHHh! *snrff!*”

 

“Bless you,” Eddie murmured, letting Steve’s hand slip out of his so he could fold the tissue.

 

“Ah… Shit. *sdrff!*” Steve breathed, and sniffled wetly. He raised the tissue and blew his nose.

 

“I think you need some fresh air,” Eddie suggested gently. 

 

“Yeah,” A breathy response. Steve’s nostrils were twinging, his eyelids fluttering shut. “Hih’! uh’hEH’ESSCHHh!!-hioo… *snrk* ugh. Wow, jeez.” It was a harsh, drawn-out one, leaving him blinking watery eyes.

 

“Ow. God bless you," Eddie winced sympathetically, stroking Steve's arm.

 

“Thagk you. Ugh, by eyes, are like… streabig. *snrk!*” Steve huffed, and chuckled. He took off his glasses and then raised a folded tissue to dab at his eyes.

 

“Come on,” Eddie said softly. “You should wash your hands, and your face… if you want, you can change into my clothes.”

 

Steve grunted softly, looking too tired to move. “Mmf. Okay.” Eventually, he got up and gathered his books into a neat pile on the coffee table. “How’d your… form signing go?”

 

“Uh…” Eddie swayed, burying his hands in his pockets. “Got through a few of them. It’s just, kind of, a lot. Was starting to go cross-eyed,” he admitted with a soft chuckle.

 

“Mm.”

 

“I’ll finish the rest tomorrow,” Eddie yawned.

 

“I can give you a hand, if you want,” Steve offered. The tap in the bathroom squeaked and water began to gush loudly.

 

“Uh, that’s okay,” he exhaled sleepily, his gaze wandering around.

 

His eyes drifted over to the stack of books. The notebook sat on top - it was spiral bound, open to the page Steve had been writing on. His handwriting was rather… Well, it wasn’t messy. But it wasn’t neat, either. It was rather average. Eddie’s mind flashed back to his mini calligraphy phase, where he’d practiced certain thicknesses and styles of writing, and he carried that with him to this day. His most recent design was inked into the inner bicep of the newly-studious man washing his face in the bathroom.

 

“How does pasta sound, Eds?”

 

Eddie’s face perked up. After a long day, Steve’s alfredo mushroom pasta sounded to die for. “That sounds heavenly.” He heard the tap squeak as it shut off.

 

Steve stepped out into the hallway, pinching his nose in a hard rub. The edge of his hairline was wet, and his eyes still shone a little. “You still have- you still have spaghetti, but I don’t know if you have all the ingredients I need to make the sauce.” 

 

He said this while removing his shirt, his gaze wandering around as he thought about dinner ingredients. The handsome idiot, he should’ve done that before washing his face and hands. Steve carefully folded up his shirt, and put it on the edge of the counter. His nose was scrunching up again, as Eddie had just anticipated.

 

“Huh’ESSCHHhiew!!” Steve folded dramatically with the sneeze and straightened, combing back his lengthy hair with his fingers. “*snnrff*... whew.”

 

“Bless you,” Eddie said sweetly.

 

“Thank you. *snrf!*” he said dazedly, with a soft laugh.

 

He looked away towards Eddie’s room, wrinkling his nose. The ridges of his abs were visible around his silhouette in the kitchen light, trailing into the patches of scarring at his sides. They were healed but still delicate. Eddie didn’t need empathy to know how that felt - at this stage, when cleaning them didn’t physically sting anymore. Still, their cause seemed to linger in this space, in the darker hours of the night and quieter parts of the day, and it was easier for the thoughts to sneak into his mind when he wasn’t blasting music or making his own. It was sort of why he almost never sat at the right side of the trailer anymore - at least, not by himself.

 

But there were things that pulled him back from the hole he was digging to run away from such thoughts - the things that made meeting those people special. Even if they weren’t around anymore, it was up to him to honour their spirit. And when things got too loud, louder than the rough, screeching tones of his music, there were people he could turn to that would understand and listen to him. He was still learning that.

 

He approached Steve quietly and put a hand on his bare chest, sliding it over Steve’s shoulder. His eyes trailed over his body wordlessly, as Steve turned slowly. Eddie’s hand found itself on the side of Steve’s face, and he leaned in to kiss him.

 

“Mm, hey,” Steve chuckled, smiling against Eddie’s lips.

 

“Hi,” Eddie murmured softly, in a deep voice that resonated in Steve’s chest.

 

“Your hand is so cold-” Steve was mumbling, before Eddie kissed him harder.

 

One of Steve's hands came up, gently resting on top of Eddie’s hand and wrapping his fingers around it. He was warm, moving around Eddie in a way that brought calm to his nerves. Eddie’s other hand gripped Steve’s arm, as their intertwined fingers lowered. After a few moments, they paused. Eddie’s chin lowered slightly. His thumb ran gently over the healed scars on the back of Steve’s upper arm.

 

“You okay?” Steve breathed, tilting his head to look at Eddie.

 

Eddie’s frame rose and fell with a replenishing breath, and his eyes came up to meet Steve’s, which were soft and genuine. “Yeah,” he said simply, with a faint nod.

 

“So… what’s the pasta verdict?” Steve inquired with a gentle smile, squeezing his hand.

 

Eddie’s face broke into a grin. “Let’s go to the store,” he said, patting Steve on the shoulder. “Go put on some clothes,” he added, only because he had to. Steve nodded and turned to go to Eddie’s room, grabbing his folded shirt from the counter. “Or you know, do what you want, I’m not the boss of you. All of the time,” Steve glanced back to see Eddie grinning devilishly. He smirked and kept walking. “I just washed the top from Indianapolis, so there’s that.”

 

“huht’ISSCHHiu!!...” A muffled sneeze came from behind Eddie’s door, though his ears still picked up on it.

 

“Bless you,” he said, tossing a side glance down the hall.

 

“Thank you,” Steve replied, after a beat. Then, “I don’t know if that qualifies as a shirt,” he said quizzically.

 

Eddie grabbed his leather jacket and pulled it on. “What do you mean?” he called out, straightening one of his rings. His chin lifted as he went on teasingly. “It’s - it has sleeves.”

 

The bedroom door opened, and Steve emerged, wearing a grey Guns ‘N’ Roses tank top. “That thing is see-through. I’m not wearing it to buy groceries.”

 

“Oh. Well, too bad,” Eddie muttered dumbly, gazing at Steve in the tank top. Steve grabbed his hoodie from one of the chairs at the dining table and threw it on.

 

“Plus, I think it looks better on you, darlin',” Steve said smoothly, and leaned over to give him a quick peck on the cheek. Part of Eddie wanted to poke fun at his sudden cheesiness - but the word 'darling' fluttered in his stomach. He heard the keys jingle noisily in Steve’s hand, and the door to the trailer opened, revealing a dusky, soft red sky.

 

The air was pleasantly cool outside. Something about it felt weirdly nostalgic, like new beginnings. Eddie locked the door while Steve went to start the car. A smile quirked on Eddie’s face as he watched Steve get in, dressed in his saggy tank top and hoodie. He looked like a gym rat - which he totally was and Eddie was secretly a sucker for it. He settled into the passenger seat, relaxing as the heater soothed his cold bones. Steve flicked on the cassette player, which began playing a strange but uplifting song by the Beatles about an octopus. It reminded him of Robin. 

 

“What’re we getting?” Eddie asked, buckling his seatbelt.

 

“Uh, we need some butter, green onions… chicken? Hold on, I’m gonna sneeze-“ the last few words came out fast, and Eddie turned to see his eyelids fluttering shut. His frame rose with a sharp inhale, and he turned away to tuck his face into his elbow. “HURRESCHHIOO!! …Ah. *snf!* ‘Scuse me.”

 

“Bless you, you good?”

 

“Ah, yeah, *snrf!*” Steve sighed, drying his watery eyes. “Whew. So, um…” His expression went blank for a moment, and he blinked a couple of times, as if rebooting. Then, “Chicken?” he asked again with a small shrug, staring at Eddie.

 

“Sure, we can get some. Still have mushrooms, right?”

 

“Yeah, I think so.”

 

“Alright.”

 

And just like a cheesy classic western film, the two of them rode off into the beautiful sunset. Luckily, Steve had brought his shades.

 

[hetchiew]

So good!! I love allergic Steve!

[AutumnSneezes]

This was so lovely, a great insight into their lives and dynamic. I adore how soft they are for each other, and Steve's sneezes were so good!!! Love how strong they were 🤤 thanks for writing and sharing!

[Ivorygrace27]

As always I LOVE your writing! I LOVE Steddie and i LOVE you torturing Steve. Your spellings are just SO good and you capture vulnerability in Steve that is so endearing! I can’t wait to read anything you write!

[funbusej]

This was SOOOO fluffy!!  I love the domestic vibe you gave them in this one.  These 2 are just adorable, and I can't get enough of your stories!

[Skylacticon]

Thanks, y'all. ☺️ More to come soon.

[Prongs]

This is soooooooo good! Idk how you do it!

[asapyams]

omg love this so much!!!