Hawkins all lit up for Christmas is like something out of a postcard. It’s been a warm winter, which means big fat snowflakes piling up in fluffy drifts all over town, and string lights have been going up along every street and building to make the whole town look like a gingerbread fantasy.
Steve remembers it feeling a lot more magical when he was a kid, back when he didn’t have to shovel his car out of the drive or worry about winter tires. They don’t salt the back ways early enough in Hawkins, so on days like this, it always takes him longer to drive to work, going slow and cautious down the main roads, trapped in the Hawkins version of a traffic jam as everyone else does the exact same thing as him.
When he finally gets to the print shop, Donna McCorkle’s waving enthusiastically at him from the parking lot.
“Steven, honey! I’m so glad to see you out and about. I heard—” she leans in and whispers in a way that might actually be more conspicuous than yelling at the top of her lungs. “I heard about you and Laura. Sweetie, I’m so sorry, we all really thought you two would be taking a little stroll down the aisle by spring.”
“Thanks, Mrs. McCorkle,” Steve says. “I’m okay, honest. Just wasn’t meant to be, I guess.”
Jerry nods in greeting as Steve gets in and hangs up his winter coat. “Heya, Harrington. You’re six minutes late.”
“Sorry, boss,” grunts Steve, scraping off his boots.
“S’fine. Considering the circumstances and all. Just don’t get too hung up on her, eh, son? Can’t let some woman get you down. That’s no way for a man to live.”
“Right,” Steve says. “I’m okay, honest. Wasn’t meant to be.”
He shoves his lunch in the minifridge and heads out to his desk to check his messages.
———
He gets beers with Hopper after work. As soon as he slides into the booth, Hop raises a knowing eyebrow and snorts. “Folks around town been up your ass about the thing with Laura today?”
Steve groans. “Don’t even know how it got around so fast. We broke it off just yesterday, and I sure as hell didn’t tell anyone.”
Hopper nudges a bowl of peanuts his way. “Ah, you know how Hawkins is. People just want to see you doing well, kid.”
“People just need to mind their own damn business.”
Hopper’s face creases into a wry smile. The lines around his eyes seem to be getting deeper by the week. “They go a little overboard, sure. But come on, it’s nice knowing people care, ain’t it?”
“Sure.” Steve takes a long gulp of beer. “Nice.”
———
“I’m just—tired, Robbie,” he sighs into the phone. “Feels like I can’t walk down the street without running into someone trying to talk to me about the breakup.”
“It’s been coming for a while though, right? I mean, you’ve been talking about how you weren’t sure about her for a while. Like, actually way too long. Like this definitely should’ve happened six months ago.”
“I know, I know. But we were together for over a year, and it was…I dunno, nice. Easy. Felt like the thing to do. People are gonna start back up asking why I’m not married yet, ‘cause everyone else around here seems to be.”
Robin’s laugh crackles down the line, tinny and familiar. He presses the receiver tight against his face like it’ll bring Robin closer.
“Miss the hell out of you, Buckley. Can’t wait until you get back for Christmas.”
“Actually…” Even through the shitty line, he can tell Robin sounds a little nervous. “I was thinking. Well, me and Eddie were thinking. My folks aren’t going to be in Hawkins this year, they’re visiting my aunts in Vermont, and…we’ve got some friends here who are planning to just stay in the city for the holidays. So. What would you think, hypothetically, about coming here instead of me going there? It could be fun! You’ve only visited like twice, and you haven’t visited at all since I moved in with Eddie. You should come see our place, it’s pretty great.”
It’s true, he hasn’t made the trip out for a while. Robin and Eddie had been talking about moving in together for years, and last spring they’d finally found a place they liked. Steve had offered to drive up and help them move in, but their move-in date was Laura’s cousin’s wedding weekend, so that hadn’t worked out. And then it had just been easy to let his summer and fall get away from him, and just see Robin when she came back to Hawkins, because Eddie never comes back to Hawkins at all if he can help it.
Steve’s not avoiding Eddie. Of course he's not. There’s no reason for him to avoid Eddie, because the thing about Eddie is that there’s not a thing. There’s never been a thing.
But the lack-of-thing, the space where a thing could maybe have been, is something that’s followed Steve around for the last six years or so whether he likes it or not.
It’s not like he thinks about it every day, or anything like that. It’s just that—there was a moment, maybe, back in ‘87. He’d been smoking with Eddie outside in the miserable freeze of February. The grimy slush around them had been half-liquid in a way that was going to be trouble in the morning, after it'd had a chance to freeze over.
“If I asked,” Eddie had said, eyes fixed on the distant gray skies. “Would you come with me?”
Steve hadn’t had an answer, then. He’d thought he’d known, by that point, all the different ways he could be afraid, so it took him a second to recognize the feeling clawing its way up his ribcage and quickening his pulse. His tongue had felt thick and useless in his mouth.
Eddie’d just nodded once in a matter-of-fact way, and crushed his cigarette butt beneath the scuffed toe of his boot. “Don’t worry your pretty head about it, Harrington. I won’t ask.”
And then a week later he’d been gone. So it’s not like there was anything at all, not ever.
“Steve?” Robin’s voice is still kind of nervous. “What do you think? We’d both really love to see you.”
“Okay,” says Steve. “Sure. I’ll visit you guys for Christmas. Why the hell not?”
(continued here)
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please can you write something cute and christmas-y for shayne? it doesn’t have to be super extensive i just need my festive boyfriend pretty pls <3
okay this is so small and short but I needed to write something as soon as I saw this <3 I'm so down to write more holiday themed stuff if y'all want 👀
333 words (weird) enjoy mwah xx
The soft sound of crackling wood played lightly from the television speakers as you sunk further into the couch, the scratch of a record catching your attention for a moment before old Christmas tunes began playing. Your faux fire on the screen and the soft, twinkling white lights of your Christmas tree were keeping the room dimly lit; the smell of a previously lit cinnamon candle floated through the air.
Shayne hummed along quietly as he shuffled into the living room, his feet padded with matching, fluffy socks. A small tray with two mugs of hot chocolate is sat before you, a grin spreading across your face.
"I think this might be some of the last 'My Favorite Hot Cocoa' there is..." Shayne chuckled as he grabbed his book from the table before letting himself fall on to the cushions beside you.
You had the mug poised to your lips, furrowing your brow as he spoke. After a moment of thought, you lower the mug, speaking quietly.
"ls it expired?" You try to stifle a small laugh as Shayne waves his hand dismissively, shrugging his shoulders.
"Do you think hot chocolate mix expires? I think it's a moral thing." You couldn't hold in your sigh, grinning into your mug as you give in, finally tasting it.
"It tastes fine... pretty good, so I think we're okay." You set your mug down as Shayne settles into your side, letting his head rest on your shoulder as he shook a bit with laughter.
"lan can give me food poisoning, he gave Anthony COVID." Shayne grinned into his mug, earning a playful shove from you.
"Not the Christmas bonus you had in mind?" He continued, glancing up to you. You shook your head softly, rolling your eyes playfully.
Shayne is quick to lean up, pressing his lips softly to yours, a smile across his face when he pulls away.
"I think it tastes really good..." He spoke softly, his hand cupping your cheek gently.
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Final Chapter: My Only Wish (This Year)
On the eve of Christmas, Lexa has one last chance to tell Clarke how she feels. Bullied by her children to make a movie-worthy confession, the innkeeper discovers whether there's any magic in a Christmas wish.
“Okay, okay. Well what is this that’s so important that it couldn’t wait?” Clarke picks apart the wrapping paper. “And was worth risking your life?”
“That’s putting it a bit dramatically, don’t you think?”
The little white box beneath the sky blue paper is nothing special; it isn’t branded, bears no pattern, and isn’t even tied with ribbon. It’s just a small, plain box bought from the stationary store however many months ago and happened to fit the two inch long, diamond-shaped red key tag nestled inside. That is branded, with the golden logo emblazoned on every one of the Polaris’ key tags…but this one, unlike those, has a C in place of a room number.
Clarke lifts it delicately from the box but doesn’t say anything. Lexa gulps, unable to read the look on a face hidden by hat and curls, and compulsively starts to explain: “It’s symbolic. That is to say…”
Blue eyes, the color of a bright winter sky, look up at her, and any success she’d had at sorting out her words evaporates immediately. Gods, what is she doing here? How did she let her kids talk her into this??
“I know it hasn’t been that long, but Clarke…” Her heart hammers in her chest. In truth, she’s already done the crazy thing. What could she possibly lose now? “I would be most honored if you came to visit again, even after you came to say goodbye. So take this as a promise that you will always have a room at the Polaris.”
Read on Ao3.
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