Steve X Sick!Reader: Best (Worst) Birthday Ever

Steve was anxious to get back to his apartment, waiting for his monthly assessment to end. (Name) was home. Alone. Sick. On her birthday, of all days. All day. Sure, Steve asked Clint to watch his sickly girlfriend since he had the day off but Natasha wanted to go to the mall so he couldn't. Tony offered to watch (Name) but before he could even say anything, Steve rejected. But any minute now, he could go home.

He was uncharacteristically tapping his foot, waiting for the supervisor to give him the green light. When the door opened, Steve immediately shot up out of his seat. "Is everything well? Can I go now?"

The S.H.I.E.L.D doctor who was assigned to see if Steve's super soldier serum hasn't worn off or started to degrade (It was a silly concept, yes, but at S.H.I.E.L.D,  you can never be too careful. Especially when it comes to their strongest and most valuable asset) smiled at him, a small chuckle escaping. "Well, you're in a rush, aren't you? But to answer your question, you're, as usual, in perfect health Cap. You can go now."

"Thank you, Doctor Jones."

The doctor laughed. "Steve, I told you, just call me Alfred! If I get to call you Steve, then you get to call me Alfred!" Alfred motioned to the door. "Now get out of here. You're girlfriend needs her hero!"

He didn't have to tell Steve that twice. Steve went out of the small white room like a bullet. He struggled to put on his jacket as he ran to the garage to get on his precious Harley. To get to his even more precious (Name). He mentally cursed as he kept fumbling with his keys to start the motorcycle. Finally, he was able to start the bike and went towards home. He caught himself speeding three times. But no one could blame him. He just wanted to get back to (Name) as soon as possible.

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(Name) jerked out her not-so-very-long nap when she heard the front door of the apartment slam open. It startled her. So much, a coughing fit consumed her, almost making her unable to breathe.  She heard rapid footsteps rush to her bedroom and she jumped out of her lying position, propping herself up with on her weak, wobbly elbows when the bedroom door opened with a bang.

She made a weak smile, her first smile all day. "Steve..."

Steve still had his shoes and jacket on, he hardly ever wore both around the apartment. He rushed to her side and sat of the foot of the bed, returning your smile but larger. "Hey, (Name)...how are you feeling?"

(Name) caught a nasty cold from work about a week ago. But it's intensity has never faded. She found herself getting propped up against the headboard with Steve's help as she answered, "Oh the usual. Stuffy head, coughing up my lungs, chilly...stuff like that." Her voice was nasally and distorted,  making it sound alien to her and Steve's ears.

She watched Steve get the thermometer off of the nearby nightstand and he stuck it in her mouth. Steve said to her to fill the silence in the room, waiting for the thermometer to give it's result, "Sorry that you feel like this on your birthday."

(Name) sent him a questionable look. Through the thermometer, she repeated, "My birthday?"

"(Name), you can't talk when the thermometer is in your mouth." Steve reminded her...again. He pulled it away from her when time was up. "Did you really forget that it was your birthday today?"

"I guess so..." (Name) answered behind a shrug. She fell back into the covers, unable to keep herself up anymore.

Steve sighed at her answer. He looked at the thermometer, the red mercury reading making his eyes widened. "No wonder why you couldn't remember...you have a fever of a hundred and two." He got up from the bed and looked through the bottles of medicine. "Have you taken--?"

"Yes." (Name) made a miserable groan, running her hand through her (Hair Color) hair. "Well, this is officially one of my worst birthdays ever," she semi joked.

Steve sent her a sympathetic smile as he returned to her side, pulling a chair next to the bed. His hand landed softly on her damp hair, stroking it softly with his thumb. He could feel the heat radiate off of her forehead. "Is there anything I can do to make it better?"

"I don't know,  Steve..." (Name) looked away from him as she muffled her cough. She held her hand up when Steve almost shot up of his seat to get her more medicine. "N-no! It's fine, I'm okay." She assured him between coughs. Her head landed back into the pillow. "Ugh, when will this end?"

"Maybe you should see a doctor again," Steve suggested. "You should have gotten better a long time ago."

"I know...but I bet that they'll just say it's only just a cold...again."

Steve nodded in understanding, a part of him agreeing with her words. Then another idea came to him. "How about I get Doctor Jones--?"

"Steve, he's a S.H.I.E.L.D doctor!" (Name) said behind a small laugh. "I don't think a civilian like me can get care from him. Technically, I'm not even supposed to know that."

Steve made a sheepish smile. "I can't lie or make things up to you. And I trust you. That's why you know."

"Then I'm honored that you trust me with your life outside the apartment," (Name) chirped, even though it hurt her throat to continue to talk. "You know what? I feel better already with you here."

Steve's smile became larger. He leaned over to (Name), kissing her hot forehead gently. He wrapped his arms around her just as gentle. "Then I should be here more often so you can get well faster."

"Steve, I don't want you getting sick," (Name)'s hoarse voice sounded below him. But she couldn't help but hug him back. He was warm, enough to make her feel close to normal again. Not a shivering mess thanks to her fever.

"I know...but I don't care. I will take care of you no matter what, even if I get sick because of it. You know why?"

"Why?"

Steve cupped (Name)'s warm cheek and leaned back down to her. He caught her lips in a soft, sweet kiss filled with love. He pulled away slowly to rest his forehead against hers. "Because I love you." He sat up and got out of his chair. He gripped onto her hand as he said, "Get some rest,  (Name). You need as much as you can get. I'll go make you some soup, okay?"

(Name) nodded. "Okay...but if you get sick, I won't say I told you so."

Steve chuckled lightly. "I know." He watched (Name)'s beautiful (Eye Color) eyes droop shut, her head falling to the side as her body relaxed. It was in a matter of seconds when she fell asleep. She had to be tired. It usually takes her longer than that to fall asleep,  Steve should know.

Steve made sure (Name) was asleep until he reached into his pocket. He pulled out a small black box. Steve glanced at the box then at (Name). He opened one of her limp hands and placed the box in her palm. He closed her hand around it. He took off his jacket and hung it on the hook near their bedroom door,  slipping off his shoes as well while heading to the kitchen.

Boy, did (Name) have a huge surprise when she woke up.