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It’s not long after they start dating that Steve learns Jonathan is not a fan of pet names.
It really isn’t a surprise. Although, there have been a lot of those since they started dating. Surprises, that is. For instance: Jonathan is a lot more open to affection than Steve would’ve expected. Not in public — never in public — but when they’re at Steve’s, or when they’re at Jonathan’s and no one else is home, he never pulls away when Steve holds his hand or rests his head on Jonathan’s shoulder or kisses him in the middle of a movie. Sometimes - very rarely - Jonathan even initiates some of those things.
But — Jonathan doesn’t do pet names.
In fairness, Steve doesn’t do them much, either. He tried out “babe” once or twice with Jonathan because the girls he dated in the past usually liked it, but it made Jonathan roll his eyes and wrinkle his nose, so Steve stopped. Now, Steve just sticks to the occasional “Jon” — when they’re cuddling or getting ready for bed or Steve is just trying to be sweet — or “Byers” — when they’re arguing — but those are more like nicknames. The only other pet name Steve has tried was “baby,” and that was more of an accidental thing that slipped out one time in the bedroom, and even though the noise Jonathan made in response had been very encouraging, Steve has been too nervous to try it again.
So now, Steve’s use of pet names is limited. Jonathan’s use, on the other hand, is non-existent. And there’s nothing wrong with that, of course. Jonathan just isn’t a pet name sort of guy, and that’s fine.
Except…well, Steve wouldn’t mind it. Having something Jonathan calls him, a name reserved just for him. It’s not something Steve needs, obviously. It isn’t even something he necessarily wants. He just thinks the idea sounds nice, is all. Even just a regular nickname would be nice, but it’s not like you can shorten Steve. The only other nickname Jonathan could call him is “Harrington,” and he only saves that for arguments, too.
So for months, Steve uses pet names with Jonathan sparingly while Jonathan doesn’t use them at all. And then, that autumn, Steve gets sick.
It’s just a cold, but it’s a bad one. Runny nose, sore throat, bad headache, fever, aches and pains all over his body. It’s so bad he has to get Robin to cover his shift at Family Video, though she’s kind enough to stop by and make him some soup beforehand, since, as per usual, his parents are out of town. By the time Jonathan finally has a chance to come over, it’s well past dinner time, and Steve feels truly dead to the world.
“Robin was right,” Jonathan says when he walks through the door to find Steve collapsed on the couch and listlessly watching television. “You do look like shit.”
Steve groans, turning his face into the couch's throw pillow. “Leave me alone to die.”
Jonathan huffs out a quiet laugh, stepping forward and nudging Steve. “C’mon, turn over. I’m gonna feel your forehead for a sec.”
Steve groans again but turns toward Jonathan anyway, closing his eyes at the feeling of Jonathan’s cool hand against his forehead.
“Well, you don’t feel hot,” Jonathan says.
“Rude.”
Jonathan pulls his hand away. “But that joke was so terrible I’m thinking you’re still a little fever-delirious.”
Steve rolls his eyes.
“When was the last time you took anything?” Jonathan asks.
“Cold meds,” Steve mumbles. “An hour ago.”
“Maybe you should drink something. You want tea?”
Steve sighs. He doesn’t know how Jonathan does it, but he makes the best tea. “Yeah. Please.”
Jonathan disappears, and Steve stays on the couch, listening to the quiet, comforting sounds of Jonathan puttering around his kitchen. When he returns to the living room, Steve forces himself to sit up, taking the tea Jonathan proffers with a quiet, “Thanks.”
Jonathan settles into the empty space on the couch next to Steve. “Anything else?”
Steve shakes his head. “Nah. Tea’s good, though. Thanks.”
“Of course,” Jonathan says softly.
Steve drains the cup of tea, and after setting it aside, he leans forward, dropping his forehead onto Jonathan’s shoulder.
“You tired?” Jonathan asks. “Wanna lie down?”
“Ugh,” Steve grunts in confirmation.
“Maybe you should go to bed. Get to sleep early, and all that. Might make you feel better tomorrow,” Jonathan says. Steve groans again in response, and Jonathan’s voice takes on an amused tone as he asks, “What, you don’t want to?”
“Don’t wanna get up,” Steve says, knowing it sounds like a whine.
“Oh yeah?”
Steve nods.
“Well, I'm not going to be the one to carry you, so unless you want to sleep on the couch...”
Steve makes a grumbling noise, pushing his face further into the crook of Jonathan’s neck. “You're the worst.”
Jonathan lets out a quiet laugh, then presses a kiss to Steve’s hair. “C’mon, sweetheart, let’s get you to bed.”
Steve lifts his head.
Jonathan freezes.
“Jonathan,” Steve says, heartfelt.
Jonathan’s face is turning red. “I – that wasn’t – ”
“No, don’t,” Steve says, a little nonsensical, and it’s probably the fever that makes him tuck his face back into Jonathan’s neck and sigh, “Please say it again.”
Steve can feel Jonathan squirming. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Jonathan,” Steve whines. “Please, please – ”
“Steve – ”
“C’mon, please? I will literally never ever ask you for anything ever again.”
Jonathan huffs. “We both know that’s not true.”
Steve lifts his head from Jonathan’s neck and pouts at him. He does it as a joke, mostly. Or at least, it starts that way. But Steve is very tired and feels very sick, and all of a sudden he’s thinking about Jonathan kissing his hair, the unbearable tenderness in Jonathan’s voice, and how warm and cared for it'd made Steve feel, and the thought of feeling all of that only for a moment and then never again –
Humiliatingly, Steve feels his eyes burn.
Jonathan visibly starts to panic. “Whoa, hey, it’s okay.”
Steve sniffles.
“Steve, c’mon, don’t,” Jonathan says. “Look, if you get into bed, I’ll say it again, okay?”
Steve blinks rapidly. “You will?”
Jonathan rolls his eyes. “Yeah, Steve. I will.”
Steve stands from the couch, and Jonathan laughs under his breath as he follows Steve up the stairs and toward his room.
Steve stops by the bathroom to brush his teeth first – because, fever or not, he isn’t that eager, and also, because Jonathan reminds him to. Jonathan joins him in the bathroom, maneuvering easily around Steve as he washes his face and brushes his teeth, too, and it’s unbearably domestic in the exact way Steve likes, though it’s hard to appreciate it when he feels this sick and shitty. When Steve’s done, he heads back into his room and trudges toward the bed, crawling under the covers and letting out a relieved sigh as soon as his head hits the pillow.
“You staying?” Steve asks when Jonathan comes over to hover beside the bed.
“Do you want me to?”
Steve nods.
“Okay,” Jonathan says, so Steve slides to the opposite edge of the bed, leaving Jonathan enough room to slide in next to him.
“So?” Steve says after they’re both settled in.
Jonathan lifts his eyebrows at him. “So?”
Steve wiggles closer to Jonathan, just a little. “You promised you’d say it.”
Jonathan sighs. His face is flushed, and he won’t look directly at Steve, and maybe, Steve should drop it. He doesn’t want to embarrass Jonathan or make him uncomfortable over a tiny slip of the tongue, so just as he’s about to take it back and tell Jonathan not to worry about it, Jonathan leans forward, presses a kiss to Steve’s forehead, and whispers into his hair, “Night, sweetheart.”
And Steve melts, sighing and flinging an arm around Jonathan’s waist to pull him even closer, burying his face into Jonathan’s neck. “Again?”
Jonathan laughs. “Steve, seriously. You need to go to sleep.”
“Ugh,” Steve grumbles. “Fine.”
He shifts, lifting his head off Jonathan’s shoulder and pushing it into his chest, and Jonathan runs a soothing hand through Steve’s hair, the way Steve always likes when he’s feeling bad.
Later, Steve will realize an accidental slip of the tongue won’t change the fact that Jonathan really and truly doesn’t like pet names. Once isn’t enough to kick-start Jonathan into using them with any sort of regularity. But on special occasions — like when Steve has a migraine or a bad day, and sometimes on his birthday — Jonathan brings it out with that shy reluctance and tender tone of voice that makes Steve’s heart go soft every time.
And if Jonathan sometimes uses this to his advantage...if he sometimes calls Steve sweetheart in that soft voice of his when he’s asking him to wash the pile of dishes in the sink or take the trash to the curb or stop humming that annoying pop song Jonathan hates...
Well. Really, it’s just a small price to pay.