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thetenthdoctorscompanion · 1 year

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I’m gonna need Chrissy & Steve for #10!!!! Gimme the Christmas feels!

10. slow-dancing in the living room to classical music

You ask, I deliver. Prepare for sugar plum sweet, tooth-rotting fluff.

Christmas Day, 1985

It had taken a couple years, but Steve was finally starting to enjoy Christmas again. He had hazy memories of bright Christmas mornings when he was a kid, but by the first grade, he’d been attending his father’s corporate business party. It was a big, fancy event at a high-end catering hall where the tables had ice sculptures and the utensils were real silver. Steve couldn’t imagine how much money the company blew on it every year. His mother practically disappeared for the whole month of December to plan it and make sure everything was perfect. Friends and family were always invited, but more than anything, it was a chance for his dad to suck up to other corporate assholes under the guise of holiday cheer.

Steve didn’t hate it—at least, he hated it less than the other events he got dragged to. There were always a couple other kids there, a handful he saw every year. The kids’ table slowly became the teens’ table, and then they’d sneak outside with a couple bottles of wine to wait out the party. It was fun, but he never really enjoyed himself; it didn’t make sense even in his own head.

The Wheelers had been the ones to break the cycle. Once Steve and Nancy were official dating, Mrs. Wheeler invited him over for Christmas dinner. Steve’s parents hadn’t been thrilled, but his absence at the party would give them an excuse to brag about how he was in a “serious relationship” with a nice girl.

It had been a good Christmas, right out of one of those old paintings of a picture-perfect family around the table. The Wheelers were nice, the food was great, and it was all just so much less pretentious than what he was used to. He actually enjoyed it, and things started to make more sense.

The next year, he couldn’t go back. The problem was that he didn’t have a girlfriend as an excuse anymore. In the end, he lied about being sick so he could skip the corporate party and go to the Henderson house instead. That dinner was way bigger than the year before—Dustin and his mom, Chrissy and her dad, even Hopper and Eleven. The two of them didn’t come together, exactly. Dustin just told his mom that El was a friend from school whose parents were out of town, and Claudia hadn’t batted an eye. Everyone squeezed around the table, taking second helpings of everything and, as Steve sat squashed between Chrissy and Dustin, he hoped Christmas would be like that every year.

Well. That Christmas wish hadn’t come true.

This year, Steve’s parents made it crystal clear that they were dragging him to the party whether he liked it or not. He’d pulled the girlfriend card again, hoping to spend Christmas with Chrissy, but it didn’t work this time. After twelve days of Christmas arguments and a ton of tense negotiations, they’d come to a compromise: Steve was coming to the party, but he was allowed to bring Chrissy as his date.

“I really don’t mind,” Chrissy said in the car, after he’d apologized for the hundredth time for putting her through this. “Last year was different for you. This year will be different for me.”

“Yeah,” Steve scoffed, straightening his tie, “if ‘different’ means listening to a bunch of snobby assholes brag about their lives until you want to drill a hole in your head.’”

Chrissy reached over, grabbing one of his hands from the steering wheel and gently stroking the back of his hand. “Well then, we’ll just have to hide in a corner and make fun of everyone until it’s time to go home.”

It pulled a smile out of Steve, even though he was still annoyed. He knew he was being overdramatic. They would be able to sneak out after an hour or two, but until then, he wanted to shield Chrissy from as much of the pettiness and cruelty that he could.

The Harrington house was decked out of Christmas with pin-straight lights lining the roof and an enormous wreath on the front door. It was pretty, but Steve couldn’t look at anything but Chrissy as she climbed out of the car.

She’d been trying to calm him down the whole ride over, but Steve knew that she was nervous too. Everything was wearing was new, from her red lipstick to her emerald dress, the skirt shiny with a complicated gold pattern. When he’d gone to pick her up from her house, the sight of her had knocked the wind right out of him. Just thinking about all the time and effort and money she’d put into her appearance to impress his parents and their friends made him that much angrier about the whole thing.

He grabbed her hand as they walked up the driveway, holding it tight so her fingers would stop trembling. “You’re gorgeous, you know that?”

Chrissy’s pink cheeks flushed darker as she rolled her eyes. “Thank you. Again.”

“You’re welcome, again. Hey, by the way—have I mentioned that you’re fucking gorgeous?”

That got him a laugh, along with a shove as they hurried up the front steps and into the house.

Inside, the decorations were just as neat as they were outside. Evergreen was wrapped around the banister and lining the side tables alongside towering red candles. They ventured into the living room, where the bough continued along the balcony until it disappeared behind the oversized Christmas tree in the corner. All the ornaments were shades of white and silver, right up to the shining star on top.

“They’re home, right?” Chrissy asked uncertainly.

The house was quiet except for the instrumental music drifting from the stereo, but Steve waved off Chrissy’s concern.

“They’ll be back. They probably wandered down the block exchange gifts with the mayor or whatever.” He gestured for her to sit on the couch while he headed to the stereo cabinet. “ I don’t know why they leave this shit playing when they’re not home. I can turn it—"

“No, no! It’s fine. I love The Nutcracker.” Chrissy was wearing a tiny smile, perched on the very edge of the couch cushion. “Reminds me of Mom.”

Steve pulled his hand back from the stereo. He sat down next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, easing her into a more comfortable position fully on the couch. She leaned into his side, and Steve watched the string lights twinkle in her eyes as she thought.

“Honestly, I barely remember it,” she said softly. “It’s one of those things where it’s like—I don’t know if I actually remember, or if I’ve just thought about it so much that I think I remember, you know? I was maybe…four and a half? Mom was already sick, but it was before things got too bad. I begged them to take me to The Nutcracker for like weeks.”

“Seriously?” Steve squinted at her. “You begged them to go to the NYC Ballet?”

“Oh God, no!” She giggled and lifted a hand to cover her mouth. “No, it was a local show. Just a bunch of kids, really, but it didn’t stop me from becoming obsessed. I listened to that tape until it broke. Told Mom I was gonna be a ballerina.”

Chrissy giggled again, but it was sadder this time. Steve didn’t need her to fill in the gaps. Her mom’s health had gotten worse, and Chrissy’s life became of a blue of hospitals and rental houses. Dance classes weren’t really on the table.

The music shifted into the next section, something even Steve could almost recognize. “This one’s…?”

“Waltz of the Flowers,” Chrissy supplied.

“Right. I knew that.”

“Sure you did, baby.”

She smirked at him and Steve pouted despite the warmth that filled his chest. He stood up abruptly, shaking out his suit jacket with a flourish, then held out his hand. Chrissy raised an eyebrow, bemused.

“What are you doing?”

“Come on.” He pulled her to her feet and led her to the middle of the living room floor. “What we are doing is dancing.”

“Steve—”

He ignored her protest and lifted his arm to force her into a twirl. Chrissy wobbled in her high heels and Steve caught her against his chest as she collapsed in a fit of laughter. He grinned and pressed a kiss to her hair, his free hand finding hers and weaving their fingers together.

“Okay, uh—step back with this foot,” he instructed, nudging her right with his left, “and now sideways with this one, then together. Then you come forward with this one—yeah, there you go—”

It was a clunky rhythm, both of them laughing as they struggled to find their footing. They were stepping more than they were dancing, the music barely a suggestion at that point. It took Chrissy’s brain a minute to catch up, but when it did, she tripped over herself as she looked up at him.

“Steven Harrington,” she said in awe, “are you…? Since when can you waltz?”

He could feel his face turning red, but tried to focus on keeping Chrissy upright as she struggled. “Well, ‘waltz’ is a pretty generous word…”

“Steve.”

“Fine, I—kinda. When I was little, my cousin had this wedding and I was the ring bearer and—it was this whole thing. She made everyone in the bridal party do this opening dance. I sucked and uh—it does not look like I got any better.”

He chuckled, but to his surprise, Chrissy pulled him to a stop. She looked at him in earnest, making sure she had his undivided attention before she spoke.

“You’re amazing, Steve. And I love you.”

“I know.”

Chrissy narrowed her eyes at him, annoyed and somehow still even happier than she’d been before. She tucked her lips in to hide her smile, then closed the distance between them so she could rest her head on his chest.

They swayed on the spot, forgoing the waltz and the complicated footwork. With Chrissy’s head on his chest, Steve could almost feel her humming along to the music. For a few minutes, Steve let himself believe that his parents weren’t coming home. They’d gone to some other party and he was staying here with Christine. They’d dance in the living room until she inevitably dragged him off to dinner—with their friends, with her dad, or maybe just the two of them. There wouldn’t be any sneaking or snide comments or arguments. It was Christmas, he had Christine in his arms, and he was going to enjoy himself.

#hi this is the definition of self-indulgent #brittney writes #steve harrington x oc #steve harrington x foc #stranger things oc #inside out #io series #io prompt #io prompts #stissy

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