'Certified Good Boy' werewolf!Steve Harrington. Spectacular, give me 14 of them.
Eddie already goes weak at the knees for hairy guys. So when he's got werewolf Steve all to himself and gets to card his hands through his thick chest hair, or mouth at his lower back hair, and call him his gorgeous murder puppy? His fluffball? His Stevie Wolf? It's disgusting, and Steve's tail immediately starts wagging.
Steve barely fits in the tub when he's shifted, but Eddie treats him to a shampoo and condition every other month to maintain his coat. It helps cool Steve's temper, too. It becomes a problem when Steve's rear leg starts thumping at a particularly good scratch, spraying water everywhere. The tub had to be upgraded after the first cracked, when a very ambitious Steve put his weight on the edge to reach for Eddie, attempting to scruff him by the t-shirt and pull him in.
They play fetch with a baseball bat (without nails dug into it, obviously) to burn some of his energy off and stave off the bloodlust. Eddie can't throw for shit, so sometimes they settle for sword fights, each with a baseball bat in hand and maw, Sif and Artorius-style from Dark Souls. Steve has sent Eddie flying before, leaving splinters in Eddie's hands when the idiot didn't just let go when Steve tried to playfully disarm him. Pinning his ears back submissively, his tail darted between his legs before he dropped the bat and scampered to Eddie's side. He spent the rest of the night whining, coiled around Eddie, licking his bruised elbow and nipping the splinters out of his hands.
The pre and post Full Moon Aches are the worst. But with Eddie suffering chronic pain from the damage dealt by the demobats, it's easy between the two of them. They're conscious of each other's pains and trade massages, run warm baths, or even ice baths when Steve's body can't regulate itself to human anatomy as quickly as usual, boiling hot with suppressed magical energy.
The flu hits Steve hard every time. It's like he can feel every single hair, locked away outside a full moon, yet trying its best to scratch its way through the surface of his human skin suit. It feels like the wolf is trying to escape its sick host. He can almost feel his muzzle trying to push out of his skull. Every muscle attempts to grow and springs against his flesh like a heartbeat all around him. His hands and feet cramp like the bones are trying to grind themselves to dust, and rudimentary claws pull up his nail beds as they sprout from his fingertips. The flu leaves his body a worse mess than a regular shift, buckling his joints and ripping skin. It's bloody. But Eddie keeps a strong stomach and brings Steve medicine, damp towels and ice packs to help him through it. They have a strategy that triggers a psychosomatic effect. By keeping the room pitch black, they can fool the lycanthropy into believing it's a New Moon, when the wolf is weakest. It is actually super effective until Eddie has to tease about it, calling the wolf a 'gullible asshole'. He's just mad that it hurts Steve so badly.
