Warnings: strong language, puking, a bit of angst, a lot of fluff
Request: Steve taking care of sick reader?? All full of fluff? Best friends to lovers🥺 BY rogersdrysdalebarber
A/N: Expect delays and slow updates from me. I'm very slow at posting and editing and everything in general. Hope you guys enjoy!
———
"Y/N?" Steve shouted, a bit concerned that you hadn't shown up to the debriefing. Fury had wanted to go over the mission next week one last time, but he was adamant on having you there. So when you didn't come thirty minutes later, Fury told Steve to let you know of any change in the plan and went on with the meeting. Right when the meeting ended, Steve had made his way to your small longing area—everyone in the team had a section in the Compound that was sort of their own apartment.
"In here!" Your broken voice came from your bedroom. Steve let out a breath and walked over to your bedroom door, looking inside when he saw it was open—you never left it open. He glanced around the room, nostrils flaring when the strong freshener hit him. You hated strong scents. The curtains were closed and the only light source was coming from your bathroom—where you were.
He walked over to the bathroom, leaning against the door when he saw you brushing your teeth. You looked up at him from your spot on the floor, eyes puffy and tired. You were only wearing a shirt you stole from him and a pair of panties, making him raise an eyebrow in question. You raised an arm, silently asking him to help you sit up. Once he had helped you up, you finished brushing your teeth, leaning against the sink to hold yourself up. Steve quickly picked up on your exhausted posture and his concern grew more, brows furrowing slightly. He came to stand behind you when you had splashed cold water on your face and put away a towel.
"You okay?" Steve asked gently, placing his hands on your shoulders. You leaned into the touch, shaking your head. You turned around, making his hands drop to his side before you grabbed one and put it to your head. "Shit." Steve flipped his hand, making sure it wasn't just because he ran hot.
"Yeah, shit," you muttered, closing your eyes and leaning towards Steve. Steve wrapped his arms around your shoulders, but you whined and pushed his arms away. "'S hot." Steve's initial reaction was shock and hurt, but your admission made his heart skip a beat. At least you didn't want him gone.
"C'mon," he said, rubbing your back and letting you walk in front. "Since when?"
"Last night." You stopped on the side of your bed before flopping down and rolling to the middle. Steve suppressed his laughter at your childish behaviour and instead made sure you were comfortable.
When Steve pulled the blankets over you, you pushed them away and sent him a glare. "Sorry." Steve gave the best apologetic face he could manage when you looked like a puppy trying to threaten him. You were the least threatening thing in his life when you were sick. This wasn't the first time he had seen you sick, but last time, he wasn't your best friend; he was just a new colleague.
You shifted to face him with a gentler look at him. "No. It's okay. I'm being a child and I'm sorry," you mumbled, eyes closing even if you didn't want them to. "I don't wanna be a bitch, but I can't help it. Everything hurts and my head isn't working and... yeah." Steve placed a knee on the bed, leaning down to kiss your forehead and massage your head lightly. He knew your head hurt when you shut the curtains and cut out any source of light.
"Did you have anything to eat?" Steve scanned your room once more, trying to see if he missed any dirty dishes or any other indications that you had or hadn't eaten.
"No," you replied, shifting again with a small groan, facing away from Steve. "I drank coffee, but I ended up puking everything out. And then an empty stomach at midnight. And once again this morning." Steve rubbed your shoulder in sympathy, giving it a small squeeze before he straightened up. "And now too."
"I'll grab something for you," he said, walking around your bed to get to the door.
"Please don't," you groaned, sitting up to look at him. He rolled his eyes and turned on heels to look at you. You were leaning against the headboard and had a pillow placed on your crossed legs. "I'm gonna puke again and it burns and hurts."
Steve grimaced. "You gotta eat, Y/N."
"I don't want to."
"You need to."
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
"Yes."
"Yes."
"No."
"Ha!"
Steve threw his hands up and walked out the room, determined to get something for you to put into your system. He walked into the kitchen, looking around for a soup mix or some crackers and pop. As he found some crackers for you, he heard Sam's footsteps moving closer to the kitchen. Steve grabbed two packets of the crackers, looking around some more for pop. He found himself grabbing a teabag from one of your stashes when he couldn't find any ginger ale and poured some water into the kettle to warm it.
"When did you start drinking tea?" Sam asked, a teasing smirk on his face when Steve looked up.
"'S not for me," Steve replied with a grimace. "Y/N's sick."
"Oh." Sam hummed and walked over to Steve. With a hand on Steve's shoulder, he said, "You go get those crackers to her. I'll bring the tea in a bit." Sam smiled and put a bit of pressure on Steve's shoulder, urging him to move.
Steve nodded as a thanks and walked off, feeling like he was missing something. Sam had said that like he knew Steve was stressed and wanted to go back to you as soon as he could. Steve couldn't help but think that he needed to be with you, helping you at your worst. You had always been there with him so he had to do the same. It had nothing to do with the way he was mesmerised by your eyes or the way his heart would skip a beat when you called him 'Stevie' or the way his eyes would set on you in a sea full of people. Steve shook his head clear of his thoughts when he knocked and opened your door before you answered.
"I told you I don't wanna eat anything, Steve," you whined the second Steve held up the crackers.
"They're just crackers, not poison. You'll be fine, doll," Steve retorted, shaking his head and walking to sit on your bed. He sat down next to your legs, holding the crackers out for you to grab. You raised an eyebrow at him, sitting up against the headboard and eyeing his hand.
"Poison seems like a good choice right now," you muttered, shaking your head before stopping when you got lightheaded. "You know what?" You started when your stomach growled. "I'll take 'em."
Steve grinned as you snatched a packet from his hand and opened it up with a huff. Steve took the chance and started to look at your state. Beginning from the way your eyes closed a moment too long and had developed slight dark circles since your eventful night. Your hand shook a little as you raised it to nibble on the cracker. You were leaning heavily against anything and currently it was the headboard. You looked up, feeling his concerned eyes on you.
"Stevie," you sighed, putting the packet to the side of your bed carefully. Steve could swear his heart jumped at your nickname. He gulped as you held out a hand for him to take. He took it, squeezing it and letting his lips curl up slightly. You pulled him towards you, making him stand up and then sit back down beside you this time. You let go of his hand and shifted closer to him, leaning your head against his shoulder while tossing the last piece of the cracker in your mouth.
You placed the rest of the packet beside you, ignoring Steve's quick protest that you should eat more. "I'll eat more after I'm done talking to you. Promise." Steve nodded and let his hand intertwine with yours. "You can't get sick, can you?"
"No," Steve replied, remembering the tests that he trusted Tony with. It was impossible for him to contract the flu or any other sickness since he was injected with the serum. It made his immune system stronger than an average person.
"Good." You curled up closer to him, his arm slinging over your shoulders instinctively. "I'm freezing so I'll need my personal heater."
"Thought you were hot, doll."
"I am. Just not the way you meant," you quipped, winking at him for extra effects. Steve almost let his mouth open and tell you how true that was. He brought his head down, resting his temple against your hair. "Anyway, I wanna tell you that I'm fine with you helping me out. I really am. I need you as well, but I don't want to be a burden. You probably have better things to do and—"
"What?" Steve moved back a bit to see your expression more clearly. He thought maybe you were joking or teasing him. But one look at your face told him more than he needed to ask. You were dead serious. Completely, utterly, truely, serious. And it was like a stab to his heart when the realisation dawned on him. "Doll. No, no, no, no, no. You—Did—Did someone say something to you?"
"No," you whispered, shaking your head ever so slightly. "I just... I just know."
"Right. 'Cause you can read minds all of sudden." Steve let his anger seep into his tone, making you shift a bit away before Steve grabbed your waist and lifted you effortlessly onto his lap. His intense gaze made you aware of the close proximity over your heart thrumming in your ears. Your hands were automatically set on his shoulders as he dragged you a bit closer. Just a little closer and your lips would be on his lips. One of his hands slid up to cup the back of your head gently.
"I have never thought of you as a burden and never will, doll. I'm with you, here, right now, because I want to be. There's no force, no pity, and definitely no lie. I want to take care of you even if you don't need it, and truth to be told, I don't think you need me to take care of you. I know you can do that on your own, but—but I want to, you know?" When you nodded once slowly, Steve realised how his grip had tightened on you while he was talking. He noticed the proximity between your lips and his. Then he noticed just about everything in that moment; you, him, the wind howling against the windows, the slight chatter down the hall, the way your eyes flickered down to his lips.
That was the trigger that made him smash his lips to yours, and he never been happier to have that serum coursing through his veins. Without having the lingering suspicion that he would become sick, he could touch you, cuddle with you, kiss you while you were ill. He was surprised when your hands slid from his shoulders to his neck to his head where they weaved through his hair, grasping it as he deepened the kiss. You sighed against his lips, giving him the opportunity to slip his tongue in, fighting with yours for dominance. He could taste the salt from the crackers and the slight mint from your toothpaste.
"Hey!" The door busted open following Sam's voice, making the two of you break apart with a startle, breathing heavily. You had jumped back and threw your leg over his legs so that you were sitting next to him. Steve couldn't help but glare at Sam before noticing the tea. "I know what happened."
"Sam," Steve warned, getting up and grabbing the cup from him. Sam only shrugged and looked over Steve's shoulder at you.
"I won't open my mouth 'til you two say something, but," Sam dragged out the 't' as you raised an eyebrow at him, "I call naming my godchildren."
———
Until next time!