#mall santas | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe · 5 months

Text

@steddiemas Day 7 - Mall and/or Job

pairing: steddie | word count: 1,884 | rated: G

“Munson Residence, wha'd’ya want?” Eddie groans into the receiver.

Whoever this is better be someone super fucking important to have woken him up with their damn ringing. He’s surprised Wayne didn’t wake up too, but it’d be kinda hard to hear the phone over those snores.

“Eddie! Thank god,”

Oh. Steve! Very important, actually.

“Oh, hey Steve, what’s up?”

“Eddie, can you do me a huge favor?”

“Yeah, of course, what’s wrong?” he immediately spirals into what all could have gone wrong, what could be going wrong. Everything dark blue and cold, vine-y and the flashing of red lightning—

“Nothing, nothing–well, something.. Can you please run to my place later today and grab my lunch? I forgot it this morning and I know I’m not going to be able to run back and get it and get back in time to eat it before my break is over.”

“Your lunch?” “Yeah, I packed one this morning but left it on the counter. There’s a key under the mat and everything.” Eddie barks out a laugh, “Tryin’ to get robbed, big guy?”

“I don’t care about any of the shit in that house.” Steve scoffs. He shrugs even though Steve can’t see him. “Fair enough. Sure Stevie, I’ll bring your lunch; when do you want me there?” “Dude, you’re the best; My lunch break is right at noon, can you be here just before then?”

“Got it. Five to noon at Family Video.” he drawls out as if he’s writing the information down.

“Uh, actually…not Family Video..”

A short two hours later, Eddie finds himself among a throng of people inside Melvald’s. He has to fight his way forward at first, but the crowd thins out as he gets closer to the registers.

Damn, he’s not even that far into the store and he feels like he’s ran a mile.

“Ms. Byers!”

“Oh! Hello Eddie, what brings you here?” “Steve called and asked if I could drop off his lunch to him. Do you know where he is? I didn’t even know he was working here.”

Joyce just grins at him. It’s weirdly mischievous. “Only temporarily, he’s near the back of the store. Just head back there and I’m sure you’ll find him.”

“Uh..thanks. See ya later Ms. B.”

He wanders toward the back of the store through the aisles, but stops up short when a fake white picket fence blocks his path.

The whole back corner of the store has been covered in fake felt snow, a couple of those fake plastic trees like Steve’s (though these are a normal size), a candy-striped ‘North Pole’, and dozens of paper snowflakes hang from the ceiling between what seems like hundreds of string lights.

And there, sitting in the middle of it on a throne that looks suspiciously like the one he used to use during Hellfire, is Steve. Dressed in a Santa suit. With long white beard, big ol’ belt and buckle, shiny black boots..

“Psst!”

He’s got something stuffed into his Santa jacket to give him the right shape, and even some small half-moon glasses, but those sparkling eyes, the freckles, that one swoop of brown hair stubbornly sticking out from under the fuzzy brim of his hat, that’s all Steve.

“Eddie!”

Santa Steve is fully enraptured by whatever story the kid on his knee is telling him, their hands waving every which way but somehow missing smacking Santa right in the face. Steve just continues to nod along, then gives them a hearty “Ho Ho Ho!” when they try to squeeze their tiny arms around his fake belly.

“Eddie!!”

He glances over at the sound of his name, and sees Robin waving frantically at him from her spot at old school music stand-turned-podium. She’s got on some sort of outfit that honestly looks like it was supposed to be a jester costume, where’d she even get that from?

His feet start toward her, but his eyes fall back on Steve Claus, now posing for a picture with the kid who’s smiling so wide it looks like his face will split in half.

Managing to take his eyes off Steve for a moment, he sees Jonathan behind the camera, and that Argyle kid is crouched in front of Robin, talking to the next kid in line to see Santa. All three of them are wearing matching jester costumes.

Eddie steps up to her podium after Argyle and the new kid pass in front of him to see Steve, “Family Video not paying enough, Birdie?”

She rolls her eyes, “Well, the extra cash doesn’t hurt. Joyce asked us to help out.”

He nods at her, and finds his eyes drifting back to Santa Steve.

This kid is much more shy than the last one, tilting her head down and taking short glances up at Steve’s face.

Steve is saying something to her, a low comforting sound that Eddie can only make out the tone of. His one hand covers the entirety of her upper back, and his thumb is moving up and down to try and soothe her nerves. His head is ducked down to be more level with her, looking at her over those half-moon glasses.

Suddenly, the girl’s head snaps up and Steve leans back a bit. “Yeah?” he hears him say.

The girl grins, nodding her head like crazy, then she too is squeezing Steve into a hug. It’s so unfairly endearing, he can actually feel his heart swelling in his chest.

Robin speaks up then, “So..?”

“So?” he repeats dumbly.

“So wha’d’ya think, Munson?”

“Does he need a Mr. Claus?”

He regrets the words as soon as they’re out of his mouth.

“Uh, wait, I mean Mrs.–Do you have— is someone going to—”

Eddie chances a look over at her…she’s wearing a smug, shit-eating grin. She leans toward him conspiratorially and mumbles out “I wouldn’t mind a Mrs. Claus myself.”

She leans back, still looking smug, but there’s a note of panic in her eyes.

He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “So would he.” he mumbles out himself, jerking his chin towards Steve.

Robin only shrugs “You never know.”

“You never—what do you know, Buckley?” he asks, stepping closer and pointing an accusing finger into her still smug face.

“I know that there’s some mistletoe hanging above the breakroom door.”

He’s confused for just a moment, then understanding floods through him, “You little—”

A short whistle interrupts his incoming tirade, and Eddie can see Steve Claus moving out of the corner of his eye.

“Sorry folks, it’s time for Santa’s Cookie break!” Robin calls out over the long line of people. “He’ll be back in 30 minutes though, don’t you worry!” the smile falls off her face as soon as she turns her back to them.

Eddie follows her, Jonathan, and Argyle toward the back rooms, “I’m gonna take a nap.” She says, “Tell Santa to grab me before he goes back.” She waves toward a door as she passes it and from the sprig of greenery hanging above it, this must be the breakroom.

Robin takes a right down a turn in the hall, and Jon and Argyle push out the back door of the building.

He expects more of the same when he opens the door to the breakroom, for Steve to huff and grouse about the kids or the parents or something, but when he does, Steve is grinning ear to ear as he combs through his (now removed) fake beard.

“Hey Santa Stevie.”

“Eds!”

“I’ve got your lunch.” he holds up the brown paper bag for Steve to see. Steve nods, and lays the beard out on an empty chair, taking off his hat and glasses too and setting them both on top before stepping forward to grab the bag. “And you have hat hair.” Eddie laughs.

Steve’s free hand jumps to his head and scruffs up the long hairs, making them stick up every which way instead of just being plastered down on his forehead.

“Better?”

“Sure, big guy.” Eddie pokes Steve’s fake belly.

Steve chuckles, then heads to a table in the corner where he dumps out his lunch bag.

“So what’d Past Steve pack for Future Steve?” Eddie asks, plopping down in a chair kitty-corner from Steve’s. “Bologna and mustard sandwich, Doritos, and half of a leftover Hellfire cookie.”

“And a Coke,” Eddie says, taking a can out of his jacket pocket, “I grabbed one for you from your fridge.”

“Thanks, Eddie.” Steve smiles warmly at him. “You want some?”

“No way dude, you gotta get your energy back after dealing with all those kids, right?” Eddie says, waving him off.

“Eh, some of them are little assholes, but most of them are really well behaved.” he’s ripping his sandwich in half, “Gotta impress Santa, right?”

He offers him one half, and Eddie takes it.

“It’s really not a bad gig, though the beard is itchy as hell…”

Steve starts talking about some of the kids who have come by in the last couple days of them doing this, having started on that past Monday, the 1st.

There were the kids asking for baseball bats, Lincoln Logs, Malibu Barbie, Rockstar Barbie (“Barbie’s a rockstar now?”, “Barbie can be anything, I guess.”), all the usual things.

Then there were kids that asked for actual Santa stuff, “I don’t want my mom and dad to get a divorce.”, “I wish I had some friends.”, “I want my grandpa to get better.”

“Makes me wish I actually was Santa, y’know? Then maybe I could actually help them.”

Eddie’s heart is definitely getting way too fuckin’ big for his chest.

He puts his hand on Steve’s forearm where it’s resting on the table between them. “You are a good man, Steve Harrington.”

Steve’s face flushes nearly as red as his suit. “Thanks, Eddie.” he glances above Eddie’s head then, “I better go wake up Robin, if she naps too long on top of the potatoes, she gets cranky.”

Eddie snorts out a laugh, “Yeah, better get on that.”

Steve stands up and tugs on his hat, not bothering to put on the beard and glasses yet. The fuzzy white band smushes a lock of his hair onto his forehead.

“Hold on,” Eddie stands as well, reaching forward to tuck the hair under the bottom of Steve’s hat. “Now you’ll be ready to see your adoring public.”

“Thanks,” Steve laughs, walking with him toward the door.

And of course, Eddie forgot all about the damn mistletoe until Steve’s arm stops him in the doorway.

‘Jesus H. Christ…’

He glances over at Steve, then up at the offending plant..

Eddie looks back down, out toward the rest of the store where they’d be clearly visible in the doorway.

“I guess you owe me one, huh big boy?” Eddie chuckles, ‘Stupid plant, stupid Robin, stupid Ed–’

His thoughts are cut off when Steve tugs him back into the breakroom, moves him against the wall, and leans down to press a kiss to his cheek. The opposite to the kiss he’d given Steve three weeks ago.

Steve leans back, a smirk on his lips and a pink flush on his face. “Now we’re even.” he winks, then turns out the door to wake up Robin.

i may have actually kicked my feet and giggled about this one lmao

also, rockstar barbie mentioned here is from the 1986 Barbie and The Rockers set

also, also, i'm getting rid of the 'pre' before the steddie up top, you all know what's happening and where this is going lol - it's steddie.

325 notes · View notes

thisapplepielife · 5 months

Text

Written for the @steddiemas challenge.

If You Only Believe

Prompt Day 7: Mall and/or Job | Word Count: 4905 | Rating: T | CW: (Past) Loss, Loneliness | Tags: AU, Future Fic, Mall Santa, Christmas, Companionship, Finding Love Again, Second Acts, Happy Ending, Steve POV

This one is also available right here on AO3.

Steve sits alone at a small table near the fountain in the center of the mall a few miles from his house. He drinks his cup of coffee and eats his mall pretzel in the near silence. Weekday mornings are often peaceful, at least this early in the day. There aren't a lot of shoppers out and about, not yet.

The only real movement is from the mall walkers, making their continuous laps, and he watches them as they go by in their sweatsuits and new walking shoes. Arms pumping far faster than their legs.

His late wife was a mall walker, once upon a time. She's been gone for a while now, but he thinks of her here, in her color-coordinated jogging suit and smiles.

He's recently realized that he's lonely, especially as it's getting to be that time of year, when the holidays are happening in full force, and he misses her. Misses being part of a team. A couple.

Misses love. Being loved. He still loves her, but she's gone, and he's still here.

He has love to give, and nobody to give it to. Sure, he has his adult kids, and Robin, and he loves them all desperately, but it's not the same. To not have a romantic love, well, it's another loss he's suffered.

He's a husband, with no spouse.

Steve's not young, but he's young for a widower. That's what everybody says, anyway. You're so young. You should get back out there. He retired early, with big plans. Then his wife died, and those plans evaporated into thin air.

They all mean well, but he doesn't have it in him to date, not again. He wouldn't even know how to start. He's not getting on some app. Not at his age. That's just not for him. So, he comes here to the mall, several times a week, just to be around other people for a little while. To hear the bustle, the talking, the laughter that comes later in the day.

To hear and see people moving about their busy lives, the world spinning faster around him, as he sits stagnant and still.

To see little kids running around, looking in every store window, wanting everything they see on display. His kids are grown, and there aren't any grandkids. Not yet. Maybe never, and if that's how it shakes out, that'll be okay, too.

He just wants his kids to be happy. Wants their lives to be fulfilled in all the ways that make them happiest.

He wants to be happy, himself. And he is, most days. It's not the same, but it's a different version of happiness, and he's learned to adjust. He has Robin, but she's so far away. He's considered packing up and moving closer to her, but he can't see letting go of his home. Their home.

Not yet.

The mall is quiet today, but it won't be that way for long. Around him, they are setting up for the mall Santa display, since Thanksgiving is over and Christas is coming, once again. They're turning off the fountain, draining it and covering it, all to make room for the stage for Santa. For all the decorations.

They're on ladders, hanging garland and huge snowflakes from the ceiling. The speakers start playing Christmas music softly throughout the entire mall.

And Steve watches it all happen, day after day, until there's finally a full stage set up and a Santa with a line of children waiting to see him.

The quiet of the mall is gone until next year. That's okay, he's had a lot of quiet lately, and he thinks it might be nice to have a little excitement for a change.

So, Steve watches and listens from a table out of the way, as the mall Santa talks to each kid, attentive and animated. He seems to have a gift for charming even the shyest of kids into engaging with him before their time is up and their picture has been taken.

Steve remembers a lot more crying and tears when his kids were that little, and waiting their turn to see Santa. He recalls having to bribe them to even approach the larger than life man in the red suit, just to get the picture his wife so desperately wanted for the Christmas card.

If they'd had a Santa as good as this one, all the bartering might not have been needed. These kids are flocking to him, ready to climb on his knee and tell him what they want for Christmas this year. Gone are the days of wanting footballs and dolls. Everything has a brand name, and Steve recognizes almost none of them. He's too far removed from that stage of life.

Even if it seems like only yesterday.

But he likes to listen to the mall Santa charm the kids. Likes to hear them fall in love with the magic of Christmas that he's so heavily selling to them.

So, Steve comes back, day after day, to the mall. Drinks his coffee. Eats his mall pretzel. Watches people. The shoppers, the mall walkers, and the entertaining man in the Santa Claus suit.

He hasn't been in a mall this often since he was a teenager working in a food court ice cream shop with Robin.

Steve gets a Cinnabon today instead of a pretzel, just for a change, for a treat. He can't eat them everyday, not at this age, but every once in a while it's nice. Steve watches as the line forms to see Santa, but when Santa comes out it's a different guy than it has been. And he's far less lively.

That's okay.

Steve knew that it wouldn't last forever, this free entertainment that he's been getting. He doesn't know what the schedule of a mall Santa might be like, or how much it might pay. By the day? The season? Are they volunteers? Do they do one week shifts, and now that lively Santa has gone, having done his duty for the season? Steve really has no idea. He's never thought about it, honestly. Mall Santas are just part of the tapestry of Christmas. December hits, and there's a Santa in the middle of every mall in America.

Steve finishes the cinnamon roll, and tries to wipe the icing out of his mustache. He's sure it's in there, it always is. He drinks the last of his coffee, and is getting ready to stand when someone approaches his table from over his shoulder.

"Mind if I join you?" the voice asks, and Steve looks up.

There's Santa. Well, the man that has been playing Santa during the past week, anyway. He's a little thinner out of the suit, but he still has white hair, and a matching white beard. Not to mention a truly impressive handlebar mustache. Steve guesses he assumed it was fake. The beard, the mustache. But it appears to be very real, and Steve's mustache has got nothing on the one on this man's face. He could seriously twirl it like a villain, if wanted to get a side gig playing someone a little less wholesome than Santa Claus.

But his voice is the same.

He's in street clothes, and all traces of his red suit are gone. His little, gold wire glasses have been replaced with thick, black frames. He looks younger this way, up close.

"Sure," Steve says, "I think denying Santa a seat might get me put on the naughty list."

Santa laughs, but lowers his voice.

"Shh, I'm not Santa. Not today," the man says, hooking his thumb towards the other Santa. "Today, I'm just Eddie."

Eddie offers Steve his hand across the table, and Steve takes it. Shaking.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Eddie. I'm always just Steve, no secret identities here," Steve answers, smiling at the other man.

"And here I was hoping you were secretly Batman," Eddie teases. "And for the record, I don't think you're just anything," Eddie says, and Steve blushes. He wasn't sure his face still did that.

All it takes is a little attention from a stranger, and it's like he's never socialized a day in his life.

"Yeah, well. You've been entertaining to watch this past week. You're very good at what you do," Steve tells him, because he's not sure if mall Santas get compliments very often. But they should. At least, Eddie should.

"Eh, it just gives me something to do in retirement," Eddie says with a chuckle.

"I understand that," Steve says, "I've been retired five years and I still don't know what to do with myself most days. Hence, the mall pretzels."

Eddie laughs, and it's warm and lovely. Friendly. Open. Steve leans closer to him, towards the center of the table, just to hear what he has to say better over the crying kids and hustle and bustle. His hearing isn't as good as it once was, especially with a lot of background noise.

"Is today your day off?" Steve asks, and Eddie nods. So, Steve continues, "And you just couldn't stay away from the place? Needed to scope out the competition?"

Eddie grins, "Something like that."

"Well, you're clearly better at it. Don't worry about that at all," Steve says, softly. "Way better."

"Thanks, Steve," Eddie answers, and takes a drink of his own coffee.

And they talk. About nothing. About everything. It's nice to talk to someone his own age, but that doesn't know him. To make a new friend, if only for the day.

They talk long enough that Eddie gets up and buys them another round of coffee. Something different this time from the Starbucks menu, and Steve likes it. He usually just gets black coffee. But trying something new is nice. He should branch out more often.

Later, Steve buys them lunch. Big slices of pizza, that they eat while they laugh and talk. He watches Eddie try to keep his sauce out of his white mustache and smiles. It's a universal problem, and he's got it easier than Eddie, that's for damn sure.

"Aren't you a little young to be playing Santa?" Steve asks, looking at him.

Eddie laughs, "I haven't been called young in a while. Thanks for that."

"You know what I mean," Steve says, because they aren't young, but Santa feels old old. Not their age, old.

"I like the chance to put on a production. A show. It's been a while since I've gotten to do that. And being a mall Santa actually pays good, especially if you're a Real Beard," Eddie says, tugging on his white beard.

Steve smiles and nods, at least that's one question answered.

Eddie gets up to go to the bathroom, and when he comes back, he hands Steve a pretzel with a knowing look.

"I will not feel shame about the mall pretzels," Steve says, quoting David Rose and Eddie smiles and laughs. He gets the joke, and Steve grins.

"We could go see if the Suncoast has Bridget Jones's Diary?" Eddie offers, teasing him.

"Suncoast," Steve says with a laugh, "now, there's a name I haven't heard in a while. I'm not sure that's a thing anymore."

Eddie just smiles. But Steve's sure they've gone the way of Blockbusters at this point. Few and far between, if there are any left at all.

Put out to pasture, like he feels, a lot of the time.

But they eat their mall pretzels together, and talk about Schitt's Creek.

And they keep talking, until it's dinner time. Steve's gonna be stoved up once he stands again. Getting older is a bitch, that's for sure. Nothing moves as well or as fast as it used to, and you've just got to adapt.

They've both had to take pee breaks, age will do that to your prostate, but they keep sitting back down together, neither in a hurry to leave.

"You hungry again?" Steve asks, and Eddie nods.

So, they debate what to get, and settle on Chinese food. They eat and talk, and it's the best day Steve's had in a long while.

When it's time to leave, they walk towards the parking lot, and when Eddie pushes open the door for him, it's dark outside. It's always a little disorienting to enter a mall during broad daylight and leave after dark.

Steve turns to Eddie.

"Thanks for keeping me company today. I had fun."

"I had fun, too. If you want to come later in the day tomorrow, we could always do it again after my shift on the sleigh is over? If that works for your schedule."

Steve nods, because he doesn't have a schedule, not anymore, and that sounds great. He'd love to spend more time with Eddie.

So he does. Everyday he shows up, and watches Eddie be Santa for a while, and then waits for him to change clothes afterwards to meet up with him. Then they eat together. They're working their way around the entire food court, trying every stall at least once. Some things have been good, some others not so much, but they're definitely having a good time.

Steve's having fun, and maybe making a new friend.

He learns that Eddie is divorced. He had a husband, and now he doesn't. Steve understands. He had a wife, and now he doesn't. Different losses, but they've both been sent out adrift, alone, after years of having a partner by their side.

That's a universal feeling, he's pretty sure.

After they eat, sometimes they sit and have coffee, and other days they'll walk through the mall, window shopping. They discuss the stuff they see, the stuff they remember from their childhoods that are long gone, now. They talk about the state of the world, and how they don't know how to fix it.

And, as Christmas approaches, they stop window shopping, and do some regular shopping. Steve buys gifts for Robin, for his kids, for his mailman. He stops at the Hickory Farms kiosk and buys a meat and cheese gift set to drop off at his former office.

Eddie buys things, too. He doesn't have kids, but he has friends he talks about. He buys a tin of popcorn from a kiosk, for his weekly poker game.

And it's the best month Steve's had in a very long time.

"I have a mall friend," Steve says into the phone, sitting down in his recliner to talk to Robin. They talk a lot, but they always make time on Wednesday nights. It's been that way for decades, a constant. Tradition.

"What's a mall friend?" Robin asks, immediately curious.

"A friend at the mall," he answers, like, obviously. If he had an aquarium friend, he would have said so.

"Are they a real or imaginary friend?" she questions, sounding suspicious.

"A little of both," he teases, then adds, "he's the mall Santa."

"You're friends with the mall Santa?" she repeats, disbelief in her voice.

"Yeah? He's a real person under the red suit, you know. His name is Eddie."

"Are you one of his elves? Are you sitting on his lap?" she teases.

"No!" he says, too loud and too fast.

Goddammit.

Now she's gonna make it into a thing. It's not a thing, not really. But she's never letting this go now, and he's the only one to blame. He shouldn't have said anything at all. Eddie and him don't talk outside of their afternoons in the mall. They haven't exchanged numbers, or made any plans.

Eddie is his mall friend. That's the most accurate description.

"Steve…" she trails off.

"I like him, of course I like him, but it's not that easy. The kids aren't ready for me to date anybody else, let alone a man. Let alone a mall Santa," Steve says, rationalizing this situation.

"Your kids would love for you to be happy. You know that, and I know that," Robin says. "And in what world would they care that he's a man? I know the kids you raised. They love me and their Aunt Penny. So, that's just an excuse you're making."

Steve makes a non-committal sound.

"Steve…"

"We aren't like that, Robin. We're just mall friends. That's it."

"Well, what happens when Christmas is over, dingus? Then what? Is he also the mall Easter Bunny?"

Steve smiles at the thought. He'd never considered that to be a possibility, and now it's all he can think about. Eddie in that giant bunny suit. Huge, pastel polka dot bow tie around his neck.

"He's not the Easter Bunny," he answers.

"Send me a pic of him, I need to see this Santa," Robin demands.

"I don't have a picture of him. Why would I have a picture of him?" Steve asks.

"Well, you could have a professional one taken with him," Robin suggests.

"Yeah, and get banned from the mall for life for being a weird pervert? No thanks, Rob," Steve says.

"I'm just saying, if you like him, tell him that."

"It's not like that. We're friends. Mall friends," he says, again.

"So you've said," Robin says, sarcastically, and he changes the subject. It doesn't want to talk about Eddie, the mall Santa friend, right now.

Christmas Eve is bustling in the mall, full of last-minute shoppers rushing around to get everything they need before the stores shutter for the night.

Steve watches as Eddie pays attention to all the kids that are making their list minute wishes known. Their stressed parents nearby, worrying how they're going to make these last requests happen with so little time left in the shopping season.

Eddie stays until the last kid has been greeted, and then disappears into the back, only to reappear later, Eddie. Not Santa.

They eat at the last stall they haven't tried yet, a little stand slinging cheesesteaks. Steve's gonna have heartburn from the peppers and onions afterwards, surely, but they're really good.

Steve's not ready for the month to end, but it's time to go. Things end all the time before you're ready. Steve knows that, intimately.

"What are your plans for tonight?" Eddie asks, as they make their way out of the mall for the last time before Christmas is over for another year. It's a weirdly bittersweet feeling. Steve's enjoyed Christmas again, in a way he hasn't since, before.

"Not much. My kids won't be here until tomorrow. You?"

"Nothing much on my end, either."

"Well, it was a lot of fun watching you be Santa, Eddie," Steve says, pausing by his car.

"It was fun hanging out with you, too, Steve."

And they part ways, like they have every night before this one. With little fanfare.

Steve sits in his car and the entire drive home he wonders if he should have offered Eddie his phone number or email address. Something, anything, so they could have stayed in touch. But they've spent a few weeks together, and that's never come up. Eddie would have surely offered or asked, if he wanted that kind of contact.

So, Steve is just grateful for what this was. A temporary friendship, when he needed one desperately.

"Merry Christmas Eve," Robin says, and Steve settles into his chair.

"Backatcha," he answers, stirring his cup of coffee. He bought some fancy creamer after Eddie turned him on to all the different kinds of coffee out there.

"So, how's your mall friend?" Robin asks.

"Fine, his last Santa shift was today," Steve says.

"...and?"

"And what? Christmas is over," Steve says, sipping his coffee.

"Steve! Please tell me you got his number, or he took yours. Something. Anything!" she shouts, and he sips his coffee, trying to ignore her outburst.

But his stomach is tight. He's pretty sure he fucked up. He should have done one of those things, and now it's too late. Santa is gone for the year, and has taken Eddie with him.

"Seriously? You've been dating him for a month and you just, what? Left?"

He scoffs, "I haven't been dating him for a month. I'm not dating him at all. If hanging out with someone is the metric for dating, I have bad news about our relationship."

She laughs, but then is quiet, "I wish you'd have done something to keep him around, Steve. Friend, or more."

"Yeah," Steve says, "me too, I think."

Steve doesn't go back to the mall the day after Christmas. Or the day after that. He doesn't want to know that Eddie's not there.

But, on the third day, he goes and buys his coffee and has his mall pretzel in hand, when he spots the back of Eddie's head sitting at a table.

Steve smiles and makes a beeline towards him, coming up to him from behind him, already talking as he rounds his shoulder, "Hey, I didn't expect-" he starts, only to realize it isn't Eddie at all. "Oh, I'm sorry, I thought you were someone else."

"Who? Santa Claus?" the familiar voice asks, full of joy.

Steve does a double take. The voice is Eddie, but the face…

Eddie runs his hand over his clean shaven cheeks, grinning up at Steve.

"It takes six months to grow out, and about six minutes to shave off," Eddie says.

Holy shit.

Steve laughs, and sits down across from him, just staring.

"That is one helluva transformation," Steve says, continuing to stare.

"Were you only friends with me for my badass beard and mustache? Are you a Santa groupie? Is that what's happening here?" Eddie teases, his eyes soft. The eyes, those are the same.

"You got me. The red suit does it for me, and I always choose all my friends by their facial hair. It's a strict requirement."

Eddie laughs, and it's nice to see so much more of his face. He's handsome. More than Steve even realized.

And they talk, and eat, and it's the same as it was all the days prior.

"Do you play poker?" Eddie asks, and Steve nods. At least in theory. It's been a while.

"You have plans tonight? It's my weekly game with some friends. The more the merrier, if you want to come?"

Steve should say no, shouldn't let Eddie pity him. But he finds himself nodding at the invitation, all the same.

"Great," Eddie says, seeming delighted, "let me text you the address. And that way you'll have my number, if you get lost."

And just like that, they aren't just mall friends. They're phone friends now, too.

Steve nervously walks up to the door, but he doesn't have to even ring the bell, because Eddie is swinging open the front glass door with a smile.

"Hey, glad you made it," Eddie says, ushering him inside.

He hears chatter, and laughter, and it's warm inside. In the dining room, at the table, there are three women holding hands of cards.

One of them hops up when she sees him, and the rest follow. She's short as can be, but smiling up at him.

"This is Di," Eddie says, "and that is Mel and Carla," Eddie adds, pointing at each woman. "This is Steve."

"Hi, it's so nice to meet you," Steve says, and he had assumed Eddie's poker game was with men, but now he realizes that was a stupid assumption to make.

They all fawn over him for a minute, which makes him feel silly. But they seem fun.

"Okay, you old hens, leave him alone," Eddie says with a laugh, and puts his hand on the small of Steve's back. Guiding him towards the basement stairs.

Eddie leads him down into the basement of the house, and oh, there are three other older men sitting around the green felt table. Eddie makes introductions.

"Gareth, Jeff and Charles," Eddie says, pointing at each man

"Don't you get him calling me Charles, you asshole," the largest of the three men says.

Eddie laughs, rocking on his feet. Seeing Eddie so giddy makes Steve smile. He's ornery, and Steve's a little smitten.

"What should I call you, then?" Steve asks the man who clearly doesn't want to be called Charles.

"Goodie," they all say in unison.

"Okay, Goodie it is. I'm Steve," and they all nod politely.

Steve sits down and is dealt in.

"Did you survive the welcome wagon?" Jeff asks, looking over at Steve. Steve smiles and nods.

"They have to play upstairs, because they are way too cutthroat for us. They've been put in a permanent timeout," Eddie says, and that's a hilarious thought.

Steve looks around the table. He wonders what it's like to have this many people around you all the time. It must be nice, even if it's only one night a week. To be in a full house, again.

"So, you're Eddie's pretzel friend?" Gareth asks from his right side, passing Steve a bowl full of mall kiosk popcorn, and Steve laughs.

The mall friend and the pretzel friend. They really are a pair.

"That's me," Steve says with a laugh, and looks at the cards in front of him. He's been dealt a pretty good hand, he realizes.

And it's fun, and easy, this poker game. They give each other shit, and don't seem to be on their best behavior just because there's a guest at the table, and Steve likes that. Loves that this is just a normal poker game, and he slides into it like he's always been here. He might not know them very well, but watching Eddie, he realizes he does know him. This Eddie is the same Eddie he's spent hours with, in that mall.

Steve lays down his next bet, eats his popcorn, and makes some more new friends, hopefully.

He wins, and he loses, and it's fun. All of it.

When the night is over, he's glad he came. Really glad.

"Next week is casino night," Gareth says, "so, get ready."

"Casino night?" Steve asks, and he's picturing them all sitting around in green dealer visors, spinning a plastic roulette wheel.

"All of us go to the casino right outside town for the night. Eat a nice dinner together, gamble a little, have a few drinks, and then we stay in the attached hotel. It's a lot of fun," Eddie says, "you should definitely come with us."

Steve doesn't want to crash their party, especially one that is obviously so couple-based, but with the way Eddie is smiling at him, Steve just nods. It does sound like fun.

At the end of the night, Eddie walks Steve out to his car that's parked along the curb. Eddie stuffs his hands in his coat pockets, and rocks on his feet, like he's nervous. Steve just watches him, curious.

"Thanks for inviting me, that was fun," Steve says, and it was. He likes Eddie's friends, he thinks.

"Of course, you're welcome every week. Same time, same place," Eddie rambles a little and Steve smiles. He might just take him up on that offer. It might be nice to have something to look forward to every week. Wednesdays are for Robin, but maybe Thursdays can be for Eddie and poker.

"I might just do that," Steve says, smiling at Eddie.

"And I hope you'll come to the casino with us, too," Eddie says, and Steve nods. He thinks he will.

And then they fall into a soft quietness, just looking at each other. Eddie looks like he has something to say, but he's just standing there, frozen. So, Steve reaches out, and squeezes Eddie's arm through his coat sleeve, "Thanks for inviting me."

And then, Eddie is finally talking.

"If I'm reading this wrong, just tell me and I'll shut up, but would you be interested in getting dinner together some time? You know, outside of the mall?" Eddie asks, and he looks far too nervous for a man that's lived nearly this many decades.

"You're not reading it wrong at all," Steve says, smiling at him, "I'd really like that a lot."

Eddie grins, and it's still funny to see that now that Steve can see his whole mouth. It's a great mouth. With full lips that are just begging to be kissed.

But Steve hasn't kissed anybody new in, goddamn, what? Over thirty years? Even the thought of doing so is a little daunting.

He doesn't have time to dither long though, because Eddie steps forward, and his intent is clear, so Steve leans into it. Into Eddie. Into the moment.

It's chaste, and brief, but Steve feels warm inside. His heart is racing, and he didn't realize that was something that could still happen at his advanced age and not just be the signs of an imminent heart attack.

They part nearly as quickly as they joined, but Eddie is smiling, right up close. So Steve kisses him again, a little longer this time, and yeah, this is what he's been longing for, he suddenly realizes. This kind of connection. He didn't know he could be lucky enough to get it more than once in a lifetime. But he's realizing that he can have a second act. He just needed a little intermission to get his bearings, to adjust to his new reality, but right now, with Eddie, he definitely feels like that is possible.

Anything is possible, if you only believe in it.

And Steve, he believes.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiemas and follow along!

#steddiemas #mall or job setting #mall santa #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #older steddie #stranger things fic #thisapplepielife: short fic #thisapplepielife: steddiemas #steddie christmas fic #platonic stobin

57 notes · View notes