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hockeynoses · 4 months ago

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and call me in the morning (Ste/ddie snz fic)

Summary: A college AU where Steve is sick and in order to get excused from class, he has to get a doctor's note from the university clinic. Eddie is a med student who works at the clinic.

Rating: PG-13? Nothing much going on here other than admiring each other's looks. No character has the kink. 3.7k words.

Warnings: Mess. Coughing. Mention of contagion, but none actually happens.

Notes: Inspired by gemsden's post. I've always had a bit of a medical kink just lurking under the surface and, well, this happened. I'm happy it pulled me out of my writer's block! The title is from Coconut by Harry Nilsson.

After the nurse weighs him, shows him to the private room, takes his blood pressure, and leaves, Steve has nothing more to do than stare at the bland, cream-colored walls and try not to fall asleep on the exam table. He fights the urge to lay down on the crinkly, uncomfortable paper, praying that this won’t take long, and he can be back home in bed as soon as possible.

The stuffiness in his nose that has been bothering him for days once again reaches capacity, and he feels a tell-tale tickle which gives him just enough warning to fumble a tissue out of the small pack he has shoved in his pocket. “kknnnxXGT!” The fountain of snot that pours out is miraculously all contained in the one feeble tissue. He groans and a couple coughs escape him. This cold, or whatever the hell it is, is just starting to settle into his chest.

The trash can on the other side of the room is too far away for his aching body, so he sets the used tissue to the side of him on the exam table. The waxy cover always reminds him of the kind of paper used for takeout orders. He feels enough like a vegetable right now that someone could just wrap him up like a sandwich and put him out of his misery.

Fiddling with the packet of tissues, he sees he only has two left. There’s a full box sitting on the counter across the room, but he doesn’t want to embarrass himself by hoarding the entire box like some kind of snot monster. He should be able to control his nose for the next ten minutes or so.

After a few more minutes of waiting, there’s a knock on the door. It swings open to reveal a guy about his age, with long curly hair pulled back into a bun, and the biggest brown eyes Steve has ever seen. The dark ink on his forearms swirls all the way up his biceps until it disappears under his scrubs. Steve instantly feels his face warm, and he’s about ten times more embarrassed to be here. He thought he was going to be examined by some sweet middle-aged lady, not this bad-boy doctor that sends heat crawling up his neck.

---

Eddie enters the exam room and commends himself on his professional conduct when the first thing he notices is how awful the guy on the table looks, rather than how gorgeous he is. The third thought that runs through his head is how familiar he looks. This has to be the guy that stops by the coffee shop where Eddie studies.

He’s shaken from his thoughts when the guy curls forward with a powerful sneeze that rips through him, thankfully caught in a waiting tissue.

“Whoa,” Eddie says, stepping over to the counter and immediately donning a surgical mask. The guy looks truly miserable and Eddie’s not trying to fuck around with this.

“Hey,” the guy says weakly into his bundle of drenched tissues.

“Hi,” Eddie says, “It’s, uh…” He looks at the chart in his hands. “Steve, right?”

“Yeah.” Steve follows his resigned answer with a clearing blow that rips through the otherwise quiet room.

“So, you’re not feeling too hot, Steve?” Eddie pulls the swivel stool to the center of the room and takes a seat.

“Not really, bman.” Steve pulls the tissue from his face, gives a hearty but futile sniff, and sets the dirty thing on the table next to him. “I just dneed a doctor’s dnote for class. The professor is such a hardass.”

“Yeah, I totally get it,” Eddie says as he pointedly places the trash can next to Steve, who sheepishly tosses the soiled kleenex. “It still looks like you’ve caught a hell of a bug, though, so I gotta do the required examination.”

Steve smothers several wracking coughs into his elbow. When he emerges, he looks even more wiped out. “That’s fine.” It comes out as Thad’s find, and Eddie shouldn’t be charmed by how the congestion mangles his words, but he is. He gets the feeling that he’ll find anything this guy does to be charming.

“Alright, let me get your temperature first.” He grabs the infrared thermometer from the counter, then, noting the nearly empty packet of Kleenex Steve has on him, also grabs the box of tissues, and places it next to Steve on the exam table. “You look like you might need these.”

“Thaggs,” Steve manages, and now Eddie is close enough to see the flush that blooms high on his cheeks, under a constellation of beauty marks. Is he covered in them all over? Eddie mentally chides himself for the thought, forcing himself to focus. He stands over Steve, aiming the temperature gun at his forehead.

“W-wait- I - iihh!” Steve’s eye flutter and he leans back as far as he can, twisting to the side. “hih-HIH’RUUSSHHH’IUE!” The sneeze is heaved into his cupped hands, no doubt contaminating them with contagious spray. “Ow.” His poor throat must be scraped raw. Eddie pulls two tissues from the box and hands them over. Steve takes them gratefully, burying his face into the soft, white folds and releasing a sickly, gurgling blow.

“Ogkay,” Steve says as he straightens up, his throat still thick with mucus. Eddie winces in sympathy, taking his temperature while Steve still has the clump of tissues pressed under his chapped nose.

“101. You definitely have a fever.” Eddie makes a note on his chart. “How long have you felt feverish?”

Steve swipes his nose clean, throws the Kleenex into the trash, and answers, “About a day or two…”

“Have you been drinking fluids?”

“Trying to.” Steve covers a wet little cough with his fist. “Bmostly Gatorade… or if my roobmate bmakes bme tea.”

I bet he’s a jock, Eddie thinks at the mention of Gatorade, and tries to ignore the mental image of a healthy Steve running around in short shorts.

“That’s good. How about your appetite?”

“Umb… m-mostly – heh-” he frantically pulls a tissue from the box as Eddie steps further back, eyebrows raised. “heh-KIISSHH’AH! Ugh. ‘Scuse bme. SNF. Bmostly soup.”

“That’ll work. It’s important to stay hydrated and keep up with your meals.” Eddie tries to focus on his damn job and not how adorable Steve looks with his red nose and his sleepy eyes. He wants to take him home and tuck him into bed.

“And the congestion? The sneezing? How long has that been bothering you?”

The mere mention of it has Steve’s nose staging a rebellion. The unrelenting itch causes his breath to start hitching as the tingling spreads. His lungs fill with a stuttered gasp before he’s rocked by a sneeze that sends him lurching forward into his soggy tissue. “Huh-AEXXTSHHH’uu!” Jesus, that sounded like half of it came from his chest. It takes him a moment to come back to himself. He pauses, clearing the mucus from his throat.

“Yikes… That sounded like it hurt. You good?” Eddie’s forehead creases with concern.

“Mmhmm,” Steve answers, although he doubts he’s very convincing, seeing as his response was more of a pathetic pained sound than actual words. He forges on anyway.

“Idt started about a day and a half ago a-and iihh – hih – it won’t – sto- hah – HA’ESSSHHH’uh! SNF. Ugh, God, idt won’t stob.” He grabs another kleenex to clean himself up. “I feel like saying I’b stuffed ubp is an understatemend.” He snuffles up the liquid threatening to spill out his nostrils, the sound of it somehow both syrupy and jam-packed at the same time.

“What about headaches? Body aches?”

“Y-yeah – I – h-hang ond - hah-K’GGSSHHoo! Heh-D’TSHH! Oh bmy god.” The poor, crumpled tissue that’s now completely sodden is thrown away, immediately replaced by a fresh one, brought up to halt the flow of snot that threatens to run onto his cupid’s bow. “Sorry for beigg disgusting. This cold is killing bme.”

“You’re fine,” Eddie says with a smile that’s mostly hidden by the mask. “It comes with the territory.”

Steve gives a weak smile and nods. Eddie’s candor helps open the floodgates and he continues, “Umb. So yeah, bmy head’s beedn hurting for a couple days. And bmy body hurts, but that’s probably the fever. It’s just –” He smothers a crackling cough into his wad of tissues. “It’s jusdt beedn shitty all around.”

“Sorry, man. I feel for you.” Eddie meets his eyes before scribbling some notes down on his chart. “Hopefully we can suggest something for that cough at least, and have you feeling better soon. Some Tylenol would help with that fever, too.”

“Thaggs.” Steve’s eyes track Eddie’s nimble hands as he writes. The fever must be loosening his tongue because he asks, “Hey, you look kind of fabmiliar. Do…do you - hih’AEESSH’iue! Do you go to the coffee shobp around the cordner?”

Eddie’s heart stumbles over itself and he looks up to meet Steve’s glassy eyes.

“I do! I thought I’d seen you before. I study there a lot because it’s so close, and I concentrate better with a little bit of chaos, you know?”

“For sure. I stob there before bmy night class sobetimes. They have really good lattes.”

“And those croissants, oh my god. Sometimes I think they’re the only thing getting me through med school.”

Steve laughs at that, which of course turns into a hoarse cough that he has to race to cover with his elbow. Eddie looks at him with undisguised concern; can feel himself falling fast. He’s going to need to call on every bit of professionalism he possesses to act normal when he has to get up close and personal with this guy.

---

“They let students work in the university clinic?” Steve asks. The fever is making his head swim, but he’s got to learn more about this guy. If he says anything stupid, he can blame it on the fact that he’s sick as a dog. When he would sneak glances at this guy – he reads his nametag – Eddie Munson – in the café, he’d practically salivate over his tatted forearms peeking out from his rolled-up sleeves. He usually had his hair back in a messy bun if he was studying – wild strands escaping here and there, chewing on the end of his pen, his foot jittering with barely-restrained energy.

“They sure do,” Eddie answers, snapping Steve out of his reverie. “Third- and fourth-year med students do clinical rotations as part of the MD program.” He pulls a tongue depressor from a glass jar on the nearby counter. “Doctor Byers should be in to check my work when we’re done. She’s chill though.” He walks back over to stand in front of Steve. “Now comes the fun part,” he says, wiggling the tongue depressor in his fingers.

“Do we have to?” Steve scrubs a finger under his raw nose.

“Doctor’s orders, I’m afraid,” Eddie says with a smile that crinkles his eyes.

“F-finde… Let bme j-just – heh - hih…ha'iggSHH’IUE!”

“Get all those sneezes out?”

“Y-yeah – hih - gshHT’Chuh! kx’GSSHT’iiew!”

“You ready?” Eddie asks when Steve stills, blinking above the barricade of tissues pressed desperately to his face.

“Uh huh.” Steve fights against the perpetual tingle in his sinuses by snorting as much of the mess back as he can.

“Just try not to sneeze on me,” Eddie jokes.

Steve flushes, mortified that that’s even a possibility. He’s been eyeing this guy for weeks - why couldn’t they have met under normal circumstances that weren’t designed specifically to humiliate him?

“I’ll try.” Steve tries to sound reassuring, but who’s he kidding – judging by the past couple days, the likelihood of him controlling his nose is slim to none.

“Okay, open your mouth.”

Steve does, relieved that he can blame his warm cheeks on the fever. Eddie is right in his face, and Steve doesn’t know where to look. Half his concentration is spent on not staring at his chocolate brown eyes, and the other half is trying to not cough all over him. He should’ve brought some fucking water with him, or stopped at the café for some hot tea.

All the thoughts fly from his head when Eddie crooks a couple fingers under his chin to tilt his head up for a better view. A sharp curl of desire sizzles at the base of his spine, his insides turning gooey at being handled in such a way, with such intense scrutiny – like he’s a particularly interesting bug under a microscope.

Eddie tsks. “Your throat’s pretty red, and a bit swollen. No surprise there.” He pulls back and tosses the tongue depressor. “How long has it been sore for?”

“A couple –” He’s cut off by a chesty, rattling cough muffled into his cupped hands. “Sorry,” he rasps. “A couple days ago. Idt was the first symptom I had, other than - Kngxxt’shoo! – other than beigg tired.” While he grabs a handful of tissues to clean himself up, Eddie pulls the stethoscope free from where it rests over his shoulders. Steve groans inwardly. He hates this part. It’s always so awkward having someone listen to every sound you make – inside and out – in a silent room. He gives a viscous blow into the Kleenex, hoping to clear out as much sludge as possible. How disgusting must Eddie think he is right now? Or is this truly just another day at the office for him?

“Ready?” Eddie gestures with the stethoscope. Steve takes off his jacket and fights a shiver. “I’m going to listen to your lungs for a second. Just breathe deep for me, okay?”

“Ogkay.” Steve gives one last small cough into his fist before taking a deep breath. His nose is so stuffed that he’s forced to breathe through his mouth. It’s silent in the room as Eddie shifts the disk on his back from his left lung to his right, his other hand a warm, steadying presence on Steve’s shoulder.

Steve continues to breathe in and out, but as Eddie is about to switch to his front, his breath catches and a deep, wet cough is forced from him. He twists away again, and Eddie gives him space. The cough sets off the irritation in his nose, and he’s helpless against the harsh, scraping sneeze – “hah’ITXXXCH’ah!” – that bursts into the waiting crook of his elbow, the mess of it leaving the fabric damp.

“Christ, I’b so sorry.” He catches his breath and cleans himself up. His voice is starting to go hoarse. “I really don’dt wanna get you sigk.”

“No worries, I think you have whatever has been going around for a while. I’m sure I’ve already been exposed.” He leans into Steve’s space again and sets the cool disk on Steve’s chest. “We definitely don’t want you going to class and spreading this around, though. We’ll get you that doctor’s note, no problem.”

“That’s a relief. Thaggs.”

“Happy to help. Another deep breath for me?”

Steve does as he’s asked, focusing on the feel of Eddie’s hands on him as a sense of calm sinks into his bones, the tension inside him unspooling. The room is quiet enough for him to hear Eddie’s breath echoing his own. If he wasn’t so goddamn stuffed up, he’s sure he’d be able to smell the salt of his skin. As much as Steve hates being poked and prodded when he’s sick, it turns out it’s not that bad when Eddie’s the one doing it.

“Sounds like it’s moving into your lungs,” Eddie says, and Steve only nods dazedly, surrendering to the exhaustion and the feeling of his mind floating somewhere above him. “Some over the counter cough medicine would help with that.”

“I can ask Robin to pick me up sombe,” Steve says, thinking out loud. Then he clarifies, “Robin’s my roobmate.”

“Well, that would be nice of her.” Eddie loops the stethoscope back around his neck and moves to stand in front of Steve. “I’m going to check if your lymph nodes are swollen.”

Steve sits up straight and tilts his head up. The cool touch of Eddie’s hands against the fever-hot skin of his neck is enough to make him shiver again. He’s going to melt into puddy if he’s not careful. His eyes threaten to flutter shut as Eddie gently prods at him, and Steve must really be out of it now, because he’s letting his eyes roam greedily all over the other man – his broad shoulders, dark eyelashes and lightly freckled skin. There are a couple loose curls that Steve wants to brush off his forehead, and his thumb itches to press into the little furrow of his brow that forms as Eddie concentrates fully on Steve. On getting Steve better.

The words spill out of him without his consent – “Robin is jusdt a roobmate.”

“Oh?” Eddie’s hands still, but he doesn’t remove them from the underside of Steve’s jaw. Steve blinks – realizes what he just said.

“I bmean – yeah. She’s – I was just clarifying. Only roobmates.”

Eddie pauses, his eyes searching for something in Steve’s gaze. “Good to know.” His tone is genuine and deliberately light.

Eddie continues his exam, gentle fingers exploring along Steve’s skin. Steve swallows against the dryness in his throat, sniffing in an attempt to keep his nose from running. Another desperate, ominous sniffle has his damn nose prickling again. Steve reacts in a flash – pressing his hand into Eddie’s solid chest to push him out of the way before inhaling sharply and curling into himself as a sneeze tears out of him and sprays over his lap. “Hiih-ZZSSHHESSH! G-god, sorr-eee – heh - huh’GGSSHH’IEW!” His hands are loosely steepled in front of his face, not enough to completely contain the spray, but enough to hopefully give him some semblance of privacy so Eddie doesn’t have to watch such a disgusting display of illness. Not like he hasn’t had a front-row seat this whole time. “Fugk.” He reaches for the tissues as gracefully as he can. “Sorry, this is disgusdtigg.”

“It’s okay, Steve. It’s not your fault - you’ve got one hell of a cold.”

“Still,” Steve insists, then marvels at the fact that against all odds, Eddie looks charmed.

“Alright tough guy, I think it’s safe to say we can write you that doctor’s note now.” Eddie winks. Steve doesn’t know whether to blush, grumble at him, or thank him profusely. He somehow finds a middle ground.

“Thagg you.” The words are a self-deprecating groan into his now ever-present fistful of tissues.

“We’ll email you a copy, but they can print it for you when you check out, if that helps.” Eddie smiles under his mask, and Steve wishes he could see it. There’s a knock at the door, and Eddie tells whoever it is to come in. It’s Dr. Byers. Joyce, Steve gleans from her nametag when she gets closer.

“Hey guys. How is everything going in here?” She steps into the room and Eddie hands her the chart.

“Good. It looks like he’s got that nasty cold that’s been going around. I told him we could get him an attendance note for class, and recommend some over-the-counter cold meds. And lots of fluids and rest, of course.” He sends a look Steve’s way, who returns it with a nod, their eyes catching and holding. Joyce studies the chart a moment longer.

“Everything looks good. Do you have any questions, Steve? Anything else that you have concerns about?”

“No, I don’t - hah-iiGhhShoo! ‘Scuse mbe. I don’t thigg so.”

“Alright, if there’s nothing else, I believe you’re free to go,” she says with a sweet smile. Steve is hit with an odd flash of happiness that Eddie has such a nice mentor to work with.

“If anything gets worse, come back and see us, for sure.” Eddie hastily adds, his hands clicking his pen with excess energy.

“I will. Thaggs again,” he says for good measure. As he stands up to leave, Eddie’s voice rings bright in the dull room.

“And hey – next time you see me at the café, stop and say hi, yeah?”

Steve’s heart gives a silly little lurch, warmth spreading through him. “Yeah, of course. I’ll – iihh - hih’KISSHH’uu! SNF. I’ll see you there.”

A fond laugh rumbles from Eddie’s chest. “Preferably when you’re feeling better. You’re like a walking biohazard right now.”

Steve groans and rolls his eyes. “Ugh, you don’dt have to rebind bme.”

“I know, I’m just giving you a hard time.” When Eddie turns back to Joyce, she’s looking between them with a question in her eyes. He huffs an awkward laugh and rubs the back of his neck. “Well, take care Steve. I’ll see you around!” He hesitates a moment longer before giving them both a little wave and heading out the door to his next patient.

Joyce shares a look of friendly exasperation with Steve. “He’s quite the character, but he’s going to make a great doctor someday.”

“Seembs like it.” Steve looks to the door Eddie has already disappeared from. He’s a romantic at heart in spite of himself, and he already knows he’ll be imagining how Eddie is spending the rest of his day while he’s laid up in bed fighting this thing. He wants to believe that Eddie will be daydreaming of him too.

“Come on, I’ll show you where to check out.” Joyce leads the way out of the room.

Steve follows, already doing the mental math to figure out the timing of when he’ll be feeling better and when Eddie will be studying at the café. What should he wear? Which outfit would Eddie like best? Maybe he can try to find him on social media. After all, he’s going to have plenty of time to lay around with nothing else to do.

He has no idea what the fuck he’s going to do yet, but the thought of seeing Eddie again pleases him more than he knows what to do with. Once he finishes checking out and heads out the doors, he lets himself imagine the smile he’ll get from Eddie in a few days. Warm and easy, with just enough of an edge to send Steve’s pulse racing.

#snzblr #snzfic #snzfics #snz fics #snz fic #st/eve ha/rrington #tumblr is trying to fuck with my formatting in regards to the bold and italics

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