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The job is, like most things in Steve’s life nowadays, completely Robin’s idea.
It had been Robin, back in July, who’d suggested the idea of them moving into a little apartment together. This kept her from having to deal with trying to hide her sexuality from her parents and him from having to deal with his parents’ unattainable expectations while also never actually being home enough to see him in the first place. A win/win for both of them, she’d said, and damn it if she hadn’t been right. It’s hard to have nightmares about your horrific almost death at the hands of interdimensional monster bats with the sound of your best friend loudly snoring on the other side of your wall.
It had also been Robin who’d finally convinced Steve that intentionally putting off college for another year wasn’t the huge personal failure every seemed to make it out to be. “After the shit we’ve been through?” She’d said, taking a swig of her beer as they sat side by side on the little balcony of their apartment, legs dangling over the side through the gaps in the metal railing. “I thought we were gonna die pretty much the entire time. So honestly, taking another year to figure stuff out feels like a luxury at this point, you know?” He hadn’t responded with words, just bumped their shoulders together and stared out at the darkened street below, feeling too old and too young all at once to fit back into his life the way he had before. But, of course, she’d been right once again. Steve had taken her a few weeks later to sign up for classes in the fall at Hawkins Community College and hadn’t felt the twinge of regret he thought he would at waiting outside for her to finish. A year is nothing in the long run. He has time.
And so, he isn’t all that surprised when she brings up the idea of a second job one morning in late November. It’s like 6-something and he’s barely a person yet, sitting slumped at the table in their cramped kitchen and slowly forking scrambled eggs into his mouth. Steve is so busy trying to keep his eyes open that Robin’s already starting a pot of coffee on their secondhand Mr. Coffee before he even realizes she’s entered the room.
“Morning dingus,” she says, fiddling with the handle of the She-Ra mug he’d gotten her for her birthday. He grunts back and lets his eyes fall shut against the glare of the fluorescent lights. What feels like a few seconds later, there’s the soft thump of glass upon linoleum and the scrape of the other kitchen chair, and Steve peels his eyes back open to see Robin settling in across from him, a cup of coffee next to the plate of breakfast he’d left in the microwave for her. A second cup sits in front of Steve, and he hums in thanks, taking a grateful sip. The kitchen falls silent as they both do their best to wake up for the day, knowing how much they’ve still got left of it. Wednesdays are always the longest day for both of them, with Steve taking Robin to her 8 o’clock class early enough that he can get to Family Video in time to open by himself, not to mention just how long it takes them to get ready between Robin’s makeup and Steve’s haircare routine.
Steve’s coffee is almost half gone by the time Robin makes a wordless sound around her mouthful of bacon. “Oh, I almost forgot,” she says once she’s mostly finished swallowing. “I was talking to Penny Friedman—you know, that one flute player, with the ears? —anyway, she works at the Claire’s in the new Starcourt now and I asked if she knew of anywhere that might be hiring just for nights or something and—”
“I’m not working at Claire’s,” Steve interrupts with a wince at the very idea.
“Don’t interrupt me,” Robin says, pointing one sparkly silver nailed finger at him.
“I wasn’t interrupting,” Steve interrupts again just to see her glare.
“Anyway,” Robin continues, as if Steve hadn’t said anything at all, stretching out to grab her purse from the counter, “she told me lots of places were hiring seasonally for the holidays, right? And like, I know we said we didn’t want to work at the mall again, even if it’s in a different spot now and probably not a secret front for the Russians like last time.” Steve snorts, not for the first time realizing just how insane his life sounds nowadays with comments like that. “But this time, I definitely think it might be worth it because look what they’re hiring for!” She pulls out a wrinkled piece of paper from the depths of her bag and smooths it out on the table between them.
It's a bright red and green flyer decorated with clipart images of presents and reindeer. It gleefully reads, ‘Now hiring! Talented and passionate actors to work as Santa’s elves at the First Annual Starcourt Mall Photo Experience at Santa’s Workshop!’. Steve blinks down at the flyer before dragging his eyes up to stare at Robin.
“You wanna work as a Christmas elf.” It’s too flat to be a question, but she answers anyway.
“Look at how much they’re paying, Steven.” Robin taps the bottom of the flyer, where smaller lettering informs them that applicants must be good with children, love Christmas, and be able to keep the magic of the holidays alive (whatever that means). Then he notices the dollar amount promised and his brows rise in surprise. It’s almost $2 dollars more than what they make at Family Video. Even for just the month they’d be working there, it would help a great deal now that Robin’s only working part time as she goes to school. “Plus, it sounds like a cakewalk, doesn’t it? Just slap on a silly little elf costume, help kids sit on Santa’s lap and take a few pictures and bam, easy money!”
Once again, she has a point. If the last few years have taught him anything (aside from how to use a nail-studded bat with pinpoint accuracy and how to get blood out of clothing), it was that he really is good with children. And feigning enthusiasm for money? That’s just retail, something he already does every day. He has to admit, it’s actually a pretty good idea. What’s having to wear an elf costume after the embarrassment that had been the Scoops Ahoy uniform anyway?
“Fiiiine,” he drawls after a moment as Robin grins triumphantly. “But don’t go announcing it to anyone, okay? If any of the kids find out, I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“So, me ‘n Robin’re gonna be elves for Christmas.”
Steve doesn’t mean to say it but he’s currently very high and the words come tumbling out of his lips before he can catch them. Across from him, Eddie snickers.
“Isn’t that Halloween you’re supposed to dress up for?” They’re sprawled out on opposite sides of the sofa in the Munson’s living room, legs tangled together in the center as they pass their second joint of the night back and forth and make vague attempts at watching old James Bond films (although, at this point, Steve can’t remember which one they’re on since they all look alike anyway). The room is larger than the one in the trailer Eddie had lived in with his uncle before it became the site of a literal gate into hell, but after they’d dealt with Henry Creel and made it back to Hawkins in mostly one piece, the US government had provided Eddie with a alibi in the murders that painted him as a potential victim that had helped bring the real murderer to justice before giving him and his uncle a new house on the outskirts of town. It wasn’t anything fancy but wasn’t on wheels and also had zero hell gates inside so the Munson’s seemed happy enough with it.
Then, sometime before Steve and Robin had moved into their apartment, Steve had shown up at the new Munson home to buy some weed off of Eddie. Instead of leaving right after, Eddie had invited him in to smoke and watch a movie. One film had turned into four and Steve had ended up spending the night, starting a tradition they’d kept up in the months since.
“No, like for a job, dumbass,” Steve says, nudging Eddie’s side with his big toe. “Robin found a flyer. It pays good money and all I gotta do is help kids take pictures with Santa.” He whines in protest when Eddie grabs ahold of the offending foot to stop it from tickling him again.
“That’s fuckin’ adorable.” Eddie’s grin is all teeth, like the Cheshire cat, and Steve imagines him slowly disappearing until all that’s left is that damn smile floating in midair, somehow still surrounded by the halo of Eddie’s hair. “Who knew you had so much Christmas spirit, big boy?” Steve tries (and fails) to ignore the little swoop in his belly that always accompanies that particular nickname. Instead of answering, he holds his hand out for the joint, watching as Eddie sits up a bit to reach him. “That’s at the new Starcourt, right?”
“Mhm.” Steve holds the smoke in longer than he needs to just to feel his lungs burn before letting it all out in a puffy cloud. Sometimes, just to show off, Eddie makes smoke rings, but Steve hasn’t quite figured out how yet and Eddie’s a terrible teacher. “In the center by the food court. They’re gonna set up a whole fucking like, Santa thing. A workshop.” Eddie laughs again, squeezing the foot Steve had forgotten he’d still been holding.
“What a coincidence. Guess who just got himself a fancy new job at the Sam Ash right next to the Hot Dog on a Stick?” He says it casually, but Steve can see how proud of himself he really is and doesn’t blame him for it. Even after being cleared of all charges, people hadn’t been quick to change their minds about Eddie. He’d worked his ass off to finally graduate so he could escape Hawkins High but hadn’t been able to find a job since. No one wanted to hire the guy formerly accused of ritualistic cult murders, no matter what the government said about it.
“Dude!” Steve sits up, the most he’s moved in hours. “Holy shit, that’s amazing! Congrats, man.” He pats Eddie’s thigh, the closest thing he can reach without making it too weird. Eddie’s smile is shy this time, his red tinted eyes all crinkly and a faint blush staining his cheeks. “Why didn’t you say anything before?”
“Ahh, didn’t wanna jinx it, y’know?” Eddie shrugs before heaving himself up properly, putting them face to face. “I wasn’t sure if they’d…well, I just wanted it to be a done deal first. You know Hopper’s been on my case again lately about dealing and I don’t want Wayne getting mixed up in any of my shit if I get in trouble with the law again, so I figure it’s time to go straight.” He snorts, shaking his head and making his riot of curls dance around his face. “Well, straight-ish, anyway.” He laughs like he’d made a great joke and Steve smiles back as if he understands, passing back the joint and pulling his legs close to him so he can sit cross legged between Eddie’s spread thighs.
“The music store’s perfect for you too,” Steve says, picturing Eddie looking right at home selling instruments and maybe even giving guitar lessons in the back of the shop. Sam Ash wasn’t a store Steve really visited all that much before, but he can definitely see himself stopping by a lot more often with Eddie there.
Eddie leans in, tilting his head and bringing Steve right back to standing behind the front seat of a partially hotwired RV, Robin pressed against his back and Eddie looking playfully up at him as he volunteers Steve to drive, his voice low and almost flirty when he leans in. Steve hadn’t backed away then and he doesn’t now, his eyes darting down without his permission to glance at Eddie’s parted lips as they smile crookedly. The two of them are so much closer than he’d realized and Steve wonders if the room had always been so warm or if it was Eddie putting off heat like a human furnace. Steve forces himself to meet Eddie’s infinitely dark eyes.
“Know what else, Harrington?” Eddie’s voice is lower, all silky smooth and ‘doncha, big boy?’, and Steve struggles to remember what they’re talking about. “That means I get a front row seat to Stevie the Elf spreading Christmas cheer to all the good kiddies of Hawkins.”
Steve groans at the realization, throwing himself back onto his side of the couch as Eddie laughs at him.
In all honesty, being at the new Starcourt isn’t nearly as hard as Steve thought it would be. It helps that it’s across town from the old location and not nearly as big as the original. Also, the giant glass roof that Steve had last seen exploding as an impossibly giant monster from another dimension crashed through it hadn’t been replicated. It’s just a normal ceiling so Steve doesn’t expect to look up and see anything looming above him as he and Robin make their way to the back rooms of the Macy’s where they’re meeting the rest of their new coworkers to get ready for their first shift.
“I’m just saying, it’s a little suspicious,” Steve says, continuing their argument from the car. “She definitely isn’t stopping by the store to see me. It only ever happens when you’re working.”
“Nancy Wheeler isn’t coming by Family Video just to see me!” Robin whisper-yells. No one’s paying them any attention as they enter the store, but she tries not to draw attention either way. “I just happen to work during peak hours when it’s more likely for her to show up, okay? And we’re just friends and I’m pretty sure she’s not like that so it wouldn’t matter, anyway.” She’s refusing to look at him or acknowledge the blush creeping across her face. “So, we can just drop this. I’m allowed to have friends that are girls without wanting anything else out of it, aren’t I?”
“Sure,” Steve agrees, letting it drop for all of 2.5 seconds. “Except for girls that are so totally, obviously into you.” Robin makes a strangled sound like she wants to murder him on the spot but also secretly wishes he was right (he’s very good at reading what her various noises mean, a talent she also shares about him. Sometimes, they have entire conversations with just wordless sounds and facial expressions).
“She is not!” Robin shoves at the door to the employees only area with a bit too much force, causing it to hit the wall. “Just because she’s been broken up with Jonathan for a few months doesn’t mean—oh, hey Jonathan!” Robin scrambles to a stop just before running straight into Jonathan’s back. When he turns around, it’s clear from his face he definitely caught at least the tail end of their conversation. “Wow, what a coincidence seeing you here! Steve and I are just here for our new job, you know. We’re gonna be Santa’s elves, which Steve thinks is embarrassing but honestly, I thought Scoops was way worse and I did that job for almost nothing, so this is like a step up from that, right?” She’s rambling and Steve can tell from how desperate she sounds that she knows but can’t seem to get herself to stop, so he puts his hand on her back to help ground her and remind her to breathe.
“Hey man, good to see you,” Steve cuts in, nodding at Jonathan. “You here for the elf gig too?” Jonathan looks torn between amusement and embarrassment. He shrugs, holding up his camera case.
“Ah, yeah. They needed a photographer and the money’s pretty good so I thought, ‘why not?’ Plus, I dunno. Something nice about making kids happy for Christmas like this.” His smile is a little bashful at the admission. The moment starts to grow awkward as all of them just stand there looking at each other for a few seconds and then Jonathan turns back to Robin. “Also, uh, no worries on the Nancy thing. It was mutual and like, you’re allowed to talk about it or whatever. I know you’re friends with her and I’m not gonna get all mad about it or anything.” Robin reaches out and puts a hand on Jonathan’s arm. She seems to have calmed down, his words helping soothe her embarrassment.
“Hey, we’re your friends too, okay? It’s not like Nancy got everyone in the divorce or anything.” Jonathan’s face is grateful and, not for the first time, Steve thanks the universe for putting someone like Robin Buckley in his life. “Well! C’mon then, fellow elves,” Robin continues with a clap. “Time to get this over with.”
She leads the way through the hall, finding a room with a swinging door with a crooked sign taped out front that reads ‘santa’s christmas experience cast green room’. The three of them dutifully troop inside, finding the “green room” to be more of a storeroom that had been half emptied of stock and filled instead with a few folding tables and some portable clothing racks. The room is small enough that it feels crowded, even though inside there are only five other people. Steve only recognizes one of them, an older woman named Martha who’d interviewed them for the position a few weeks before. Martha’s busily helping the other four pick out costume pieces that would fit from the assortment of brightly colored outfits on the racks. She looks up as they enter, her wrinkled face lighting up.
“Ah, the rest of our cast assembles!” She says, coming towards them with spread arms. “Now, we’re just waiting for our Santa to arrive, and we’ll all be ready for our first performance!”
Calling it a performance is a bit much. None of the other elves look much like actors and Steve knows he and Robin aren’t going to be putting that much effort into it. Keeping quiet, he follows the others as Martha ushers them over to the clothing racks, letting her pick out costumes for each of them as the elves go one by one to the employee restroom next door to change. The costumes aren’t as awful as he’d been picturing but by the time they all finish changing, he’s wearing tights and his feet jingle with every step, so all in all not the hottest he’s ever looked.
It's about the time he’s trying to fix his hair under the little hat he was given that Martha barges into the room, startling everyone and looking frantic.
“Elves, we have a problem!” Steve doesn’t love being referred to like that but decides maybe now isn’t the time. “I’ve just gotten off the phone with Robert, our dear Santa Clause, and I’m afraid the news is dire. He was trying to feed his cat this afternoon when he tripped over the poor creature and fell. He just called from the hospital and informed me his leg has been broken!” The woman looks anguished and one of the other elves takes a tentative step forward.
“That’s awful. Will he be okay?”
“Yes, of course he will, but that’s not the point!” Martha practically wails. “Now who will play the role of Santa?”
The room goes silent. Everyone looks around at each other for a moment, realizing that a photoshoot with Santa is a little difficult if you don’t have any Santa to speak of. Out of the corner of his eye, Steve sees Robin’s head whip around to stare at him. He realizes what she’s going to say two seconds before the words come out of her mouth.
“Steve can play Santa.”
“No, I can’t,” he says, before she can even finish. “I’m too young. And too skinny!”
“Jonathan needs to be the one taking pictures and all the rest of us are girls,” Robin points out. “There isn’t anyone else who can do it.” Martha’s eyes are wide and shiny as she looks at Steve like he’s the answer to all her prayers.
“She’s right, dear boy,” Martha says, reaching up to place her hands on his shoulders like she’s about to tell him something grandly important. “At least until a new actor for Santa can be found, you’re this production’s only hope. The wig and beard will help hide your age and the Santa suit comes with a padded belly, so really there’s no reason to say no!” He tries to cut in, but she speaks over him, giving his shoulders a light shake. “Please, young man, you must agree! The children of Hawkins deserve a magical Christmas, and you are the only one who can make it happen!”
It takes everything in him not to laugh at how serious she sounds. Christmas would still be happening whether the ‘First Annual Starcourt Mall Photo Experience at Santa’s Workshop’ happened or not. And it’s not like they wouldn’t be able to find someone else in a few days anyway, so what would be the harm in starting a few days late? Steve looks up at everyone else, each of them silent as they wait for Steve’s answer. He meets Robin’s eyes above Martha’s head and holds back a sigh at the way she raises one eyebrow at him. ‘Goddamn it, Buckley,’ he thinks.
Half an hour into his first shift as a mall Santa, Steve realizes two things; he’s actually having fun with this, and Robin can absolutely tell. He already knows how much she’s going to tease him later, but he can’t help the fact that he’s actually really good at this. They both already knew he was good with kids but they’re just something about talking to them helping them believe in something magical like Christmas just for a little bit longer that makes him feel better about the holidays than he has in a long time. There have been enough kids at this point that he’s got his script down pat, engaging the children and making sure they’re happy and smiling by the time they’re ready for Jonathan to take their picture. He’s even managed to coax some shy ones away from their parents, getting them to open up and whisper to him what they want for Christmas.
The line to see him grows longer and longer as the evening goes on, at one point blocking half the food court from view. Steve knows the kids are there to see Santa and not him, of course, but it still feels nice either way. Just knowing he isn’t fucking all of this up somehow is enough, really. And the glowing look of pride on Martha’s face doesn’t hurt either.
All in all, the evening seems to fly by and before Steve knows it, the elves are cutting off the end of the line and announcing that Santa needs to head back to the North Pole for the night. When the last kid in line is seen to and photographed, Steve stands up for the first time in six hours, suddenly realizing how exhausted he is. He waves to the last of the kids, calling out friendly farewells and promises to be back the next day.
Martha leads him back to the Macy’s, hardly waiting for the door to the back hallways to shut before she throws herself at him in a hug. He grunts as he catches her, standing there awkwardly as a woman he’s known for all of two weeks and who’s three times his age hugs him harder than his own mother ever has.
“Oh, Steve!” Martha gushes, as she pulls back to beam at him. “You were absolutely sublime, just stunning! The children adored you and you were perfect with them. Exactly everything I could have hoped for.” He knows he’s blushing under the praise, and he hopes Robin and the other elves get back here soon so he can stop being alone with Martha and all the intensity of her full attention.
“Uh, thanks,” he says, ducking his head. “Just doing what I thought would make ‘em happy, you know?”
“Splendid! And it worked out so marvelously. I just know our little workshop will be so popular in the coming weeks as more and more people hear about our talented Santa Clause.” She pats his cheek, looking ecstatic, even as he frowns.
“You mean until you find a replacement Santa, right?” Her smile dims for a moment, as if she’d forgotten that Steve was only going to play the part of Santa until someone more suitable could be found. Then the smile widens again, like nothing happened.
“Of course, dear. Of course.”
It takes a day and a half for the rest of the party to find out about Steve’s new job. He’d blame one of the others for spilling the beans to the kids but honestly, enough of the girls he went to high school with show up to sit on his lap take pictures with “Santa” on day two that he figures the rumor mill must be going crazy that the former king of Hawkins High is now dressing as a mall Santa and taking photos with kids.
It's later in the evening, closer to the end of his shift, when he recognizes a mop of curls beneath a red and white cap in the crowd of children and parents waiting to see him. He curses before he remembers where he is, causing Robin to shoot him an amused look from where she’s manning the front of the line just in front of him. Of course, his kids decided to come visit him like this, the little shits. He can’t break character, even for them, not while other children will hear him. He resigns himself to the endless teasing he’s going to get for this and continues working his way through the line of children until Dustin is standing at the very front, a delighted grin spread across his face.
The rest of the kids are with him too, of course. Lucas and Mike are already laughing, looking at him like Christmas came early, while Erica examines Robin in her costume, seeming judge-y and amused at the same time. Max stands between Lucas and El, her arms looped between theirs as El leans over and speaks to her, seemingly describing the scene for her. Even if she can’t see what Steve looks like, she’s still smirking at the thought. Will is the only one staring at Jonathan, fighting giggles at his tights and the jingly hat he wears.
Finally, the child Steve’s just helped offers his goodbyes and Steve has no choice but to watch as the party approaches him. They’re all talking over each other, as it is anytime they all get together, and Steve has to fight his well-honed urge to shout over them to shut up. Instead, he projects his voice to be heard and forces himself to keep using his jolly Santa voice.
“Hello, children! It’s so good to see you all.” He knows his eyes betray him, glaring daggers at the kids even as he smiles at them. From the way they all giggle, they know exactly what he really wants to say to them. Without waiting for an invitation, Dustin plops himself on Steve’s lap, who grunts at the sudden weight of a 15-year-old on his legs (Jesus, when did the kid become 15 already? They’re all getting too old which just makes Steve feel old and he doesn’t know how to handle those feelings).
“Hey Santa, great to see ya, buddy,” Dustin says, his eyes twinkling. “What I really want for Christmas is my friend Steve to finally start playing D&D with us. He says it’s lame but honestly, he’s pretty lame too so like—” Before he can finish, Steve cuts him off with a forced jolly laugh.
“What a unique request! I’ll see what I can do,” he says with no intention of ever joining these dinguses for anything ever again, never mind that he’s already sort of planning on asking Eddie to show him how to play D&D anyway since the kids had been asking him for years to join in. Mike leans over and yanks on the back of Dustin’s jacket, causing Steve to grab onto his back to keep him from toppling over.
“Robin said we each only get one thing so it’s my turn with St—I mean, Santa!” he shouts, seeming to remember at the last second that other kids in the line can still hear them. Dustin grumbles but dutifully slides off Steve’s lap to let Mike take his place.
“Hi, so, honestly Santa all I want for Christmas is for someone to talk to Hopper for me so he stops interrupting whenever me and El are—" Several voices behind him shout at him to shut up before Steve can stop the rest of the sentence. “What? I was gonna say hanging out!”
“Uh huh, sure you were,” scoffs Erica as she shoulders Mike out of the way so she can plop onto Steve’s lap and stare him directly in the eyes. “Santa, I don’t want you to get me anything for Christmas. I want you to tell my parents to stop buying me Barbie dolls! What am I supposed to do with those? They don’t even stand up by themselves so it’s not like they can be part of a campaign or something. Oh, but also! You still owe me ice cream for life. Don’t even think I forgot about that.”
“I’ll, uh, get right on that,” Steve says, nodding and wondering if Erica would be lenient with him the day she conquers the world for herself.
“Erica, that was two things!” Lucas complains. Erica hops off Steve’s lap so she can argue with her brother while standing. As she clears off, El leads Max by the arm until they’re both standing expectantly in front of Steve.
“Hey Santa,” Max says with a grin.
“Hello Santa Steve,” El says, and Steve can’t help but be charmed by both of them. God, he loves his kids so much (even the shithead ones).
“Hello, friends,” Steve says, reaching out to take Max’s hand. Taking it as an invitation, Max uses the hand to sit herself on Steve’s lap. She turns her face to him but doesn’t bother trying to approximate where his eyes are. “What would you like for Christmas?”
“I want a walking cane that has a sword hidden inside.” It takes everything in Steve not to laugh. On his other side, rather than sitting down, El leans herself against his shoulder.
“I can ask for anything for Christmas?” she says, sounding uncertain, and Steve realizes he’s probably her first and only experience with a mall Santa like this.
“Of course, you can, my dear. Anything at all.” He agrees. With the others he might restrict them to reasonable gifts, but he knows El is the most levelheaded of the bunch.
“Eggos,” she says with absolutely no hesitation. “Or maybe a way to get blood out of clothes easier so Joyce doesn’t have to do my laundry so much.” This time, Steve definitely laughs.
“Very…practical gifts. I’ll look into it for you,” he promises, already mentally making a note to ask Nancy’s mom if she knew any tricks he could show El about the blood thing. The girls thank him, Max giving his fake beard a playful little tug, before they step away to allow the next kid. Finally finished arguing with his sister, Lucas wanders up. As the tallest of all the kids, he spends a moment looking awkwardly at Steve’s lap, as if wondering how he’s going to fit. Before he can chicken out, Dustin eggs him on from the edge of the workshop platform and Lucas rolls his eyes and plants himself firmly across Steve’s knees. He’s definitely lankier than the other kids but Steve doesn’t mind, not as much as he pretends to. Instead, he says “And what about you, friend?”
“I want someone who isn’t my parents to teach me how to drive,” Lucas says, staring at Steve with that wide eyed ‘duh’ look he gets sometimes. “My dad’s a terrible driver and my mom spends the whole time just yelling at me. So, good thing I have this older friend named Steve who definitely knows how to drive and also has a normal car that isn’t a van he can teach me in, right?” Steve forces down a sigh.
“We’ll see,” he says instead of outright saying no. “I’ll have to talk to this, ah, Steve and see if he has the time.”
“Oh, I’m sure he’ll be able to work something out,” Lucas laughs, unfolding himself from Steve’s lap and joining the rest of the rugrats. That just leaves…
Will Byers stands just in front of his brother’s camera, staring at Steve with a bright red blush on his face.
“It’s your turn now, Will,” Steve says, holding out a hand. Will shakes his head, stuttering out something incomprehensible before he manages to string some words together.
“Ah, n-no, that’s okay, I’m all good, I think, St—uh, Santa. I’m just gonna be over here, I think.” He looks ready for the ground to swallow him whole, and Steve suddenly recognizes the look on his face. He very resolutely doesn’t smirk, instead just letting his hand drop.
“That’s alright, kid. There’s no pressure here,” he says gently, ignoring the taunting words coming from the peanut gallery over by Robin. “I hope you get everything you’re looking for this Christmas.”
“Yeah…” Will says, smiling gratefully. “Me too. Thanks, Santa.”
When it’s finally time for Jonathan to take their picture, the kids try to pile as many of them on top of Steve as they can fit. He ends up with half the party in his arms, the rest strewn about him dangling off his shoulders or sitting down on the floor by his feet. He already knows he’s going to love the damn picture and hopes Jonathan can get him a copy so he can frame it for the apartment (even if the kids make fun of him for it). After a long round of goodbyes and several more jokes at Steve’s expense, his kids finally trail away from the workshop, already talking about where to go hang out next, and Steve watches them go with a look he knows is all syrupy sweet fondness before Robin gets his attention for the next child in line.
“Sounds like the kids are really getting a kick out of the whole Santa Steve thing, huh?” Eddie looks deeply amused by the whole situation and Steve groans in response, nearly faceplanting into his plate of pizza. They’re sitting in the mall food court having lunch during Eddie’s break. Steve’s not due in for a few hours but Robin is in class, and he had some time to kill so he’d decided to come bother Eddie while he waited. He should’ve known Eddie wouldn’t be able to resist talking about the giant festive elephant in the room, especially with the closed workshop in view of where they’re sitting.
“Those little bastards,” he says, aware of how fond he sounds even as he complains about them. “They come in to visit me every few days just to ask me for more shit.”
“The pictures Jonathan got were cute though. I think Joyce might even frame a couple of ‘em.” Eddie points out as he reaches over to steal an abandoned pizza crust off Steve’s plate, shoving half of it into his mouth in one bite.
“When did you see those?” Steve asked, frowning. He hadn’t even seen the pictures from that first visit since the pictures were developed offsite and mailed out to the parents.
“Couple days ago? He showed me last time I was at his house to sell to him.”
“I thought you were going straight?”“
"I said straight-ish.” Eddie shrugs and Steve snorts in response. While he is a little embarrassed about the pictures of him with the kids, he can’t help but feel warmed at the idea of Joyce putting one up in her house. It’s just such a mom thing to do. Or such a thing for other people’s moms to do, he guesses, because his mom would never. But the point still stands.
“What happened to only being Santa for a few days ‘til your boss could get someone else to do it?”
“I don’t think she ever actually looked for anyone else,” Steve admits. “The month’s almost half over and anytime I ask she just kinda brushes me off before telling me how much of a ‘fantastically talented Santa enthusiast’ I am.”
“Slap that on your resume, Harrington,” Eddie cackles. “Never mind that you got played for a sucker by an old woman.” Underneath the table, Steve feels one of Eddie’s docs tap against his foot. “I don’t get why you’re so embarrassed about it anyway, Stevie,” Eddie continues as he wipes pizza grease off his fingers. “You’re spreading the Christmas spirit and all that jazz. Making the season bright, or whatever.”
“Or whatever?” Steve laughs. The boot taps his sneaker again, noticeably harder this time, so he taps Eddie back. “I never would’ve guessed you’d be so into all this Christmas stuff.”
“What and you’re not?” Eddie counters as he throws a balled-up napkin at Steve’s head.
“Definitely not.” Steve smacks the napkin out of the air before it hits his face.
“Oh please, I’ve seen how happy you are with those kids.” Eddie points an accusing finger at him, his heavy rings glinting in the harsh lighting of the mall. “Don’t think you can lie to me about it either, Harrington. I know what you look like when you’re having a good time.” Steve tries not to read too hard into that and shrugs.
“I never said I wasn’t. But it’s definitely not because of the Christmas thing.” He pauses, thinking about how to frame his words in a way that makes sense. “I just…I mean, I like kids, you already know that. And there’s just something about being…I don’t know, needed? In a way? It’s nice. Even if it’s not really me they need, I’m still the one helping them.” Something about the look on Eddie’s face makes him feel like he shared too much without meaning too and he takes a sip of his sprite to avoid that knowing gaze.
“…So, not a Christmas fan then?” Eddie asks after a few moments of silence.
“Not especially. That surprising?”
“I dunno. I guess I just always pictured your house looking like something out of a Christmas movie with like a million presents for you under the tree.”
“You’re not…wrong,” Steve admits. “At least, when I was a kid anyway. But they haven’t bothered with that sort of thing in a while. Usually now they just go on a cruise during the holidays to get out of the cold.” Eddie frowns, his eyebrows dipping together in the center, and Steve gets that feeling he has sometimes when he talks about his parents to people as if he’s said the wrong thing without realizing it. He knows his parents aren’t as…present in his life as other people’s, he’s not stupid. But that’s how they’ve always been, and he’d gotten used to it years ago. Sometimes he just forgets other people aren’t as accustomed to it.
“You’re just gonna to be by yourself on Christmas, then?” asks Eddie, all traces of a joke gone from his face.
“I…I mean, yeah. Robin’s spending a few days with her parents and Family Video’ll be closed that day, so. Yeah.”
“So, wait,” Eddie says slowly as if he’s the one not understanding something here. “You mean to tell me you’ve been out here being the nicest goddamn Santa to all these kids so they can believe in the fucking magic of Christmas or something. And then you’re just gonna go home and be by yourself on Christmas because your shitty parents wanna go on fancy nice weather cruises without you?”
“It’s really not that big of a deal, man—”
“What about Henderson, then?” Eddie asks, speaking over Steve before he can even start attempting to calm the situation down. “I’m sure he’d love to have you over. Or the Byers’ or fuck dude, literally any of the party.”
“No, that’s not…I don’t want…” Steve stops, the most uncomfortable he’s been this entire conversation. “I’m not gonna like…force myself into someone else’s family like that. The kids and Robin should have time with their parents, they deserve it after the shitty year we all had. You do too.”
Eddie stares at him and Steve wishes he had some kind of time machine so he could rewind the last few minutes and stop them from ever happening. At least then he wouldn’t have to deal with the pity oozing off his friend in waves. This is why he doesn’t like talking about his parents, especially not to the party. There’s not a thing any of them could do to change his parents or the relationship he has with them, so why bother telling them about it? It just made things get all weird and he hated it.
“Steve—”
“Anyway, enough about my dumb Santa job, tell me how your new gig’s going.” It’s the least subtle subject change in conversation history but Steve’s desperate to bring back the relaxed atmosphere from just a few minutes ago. After another few moments of silence, Eddie lets him get away with it, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table so he can hold his chin up with the palm of his hand.
“It has its ups and downs. I think business might be a little slower since I started but no one’s called me a murderer since Monday so there’s that at least.” Eddie says it like it’s a joke but they both know it really isn’t. “Oh, but there was this one customer who came in a few days ago who was just the fucking worst, dude, you should’ve seen it.”
Steve lets Eddie’s soothing voice wash over him, trying his best to ignore the hollow pit growing in his chest at the way Eddie had looked at him.
Time flies when you’re having fun and apparently it flies even faster when you have two jobs and one of them involves pretending to be Santa Clause for gaggles of children (and sometimes older women who think you look hot despite the Santa costume and want to sit on your lap). Either way, the end of December is here before Steve knows it. Robin had successfully finished her finals for the semester and now she and the kids were on winter break, which meant that any of his non-work time gets spent either hanging out with people or driving them around whenever they want to go somewhere.
In the blink of an eye, it’s Christmas Eve, the last day of his mall Santa job. Despite all his protests and complaints about the whole thing, Steve has to admit that part of him is going to miss all this. While he’s looking forward to having his evenings free again, it’s with a strange sort of sadness that he gets ready for his final shift. Knowing that he’s putting on the stupid costume for what’s probably the last time makes him feel equal parts relieved and…nostalgic? If you can be nostalgic for a thing that’s still happening, anyway. He pushes the unnamed emotions out of his mind, determined to get through this last evening so he can head home and relax. He and Robin had exchanged presents earlier that day so she could go right to her parents after they finished work so it would just be Steve by himself for a few days until she came back. Which is fine, of course. It had been fine for years, long before he ever became friends with any of these wonderful losers. And it’s still fine now. Obviously.
“C’mon, Harrington,” Robin calls over from the door to their pitiful little green room. “Can’t keep the kiddos waiting.” He makes a face at her through the mirror leaning against the wall but allows her to take his arm and lead him from the room. It’s expected to be a slow night, with most of the stores in the mall already closed for the evenings and the streets outside blanketed with snow. There’s only one other elf—a Hawkins High senior named Alyssa—working besides Robin and Jonathan, and even Martha is home with her family for the night, leaving the last night of the workshop in their hands. “You know, as dumb as I still feel in this elf costume, I’m actually glad we did this,” Robin admits as they make their way through the hall. Steve’s smile is small as he bumps their shoulders together.
“Yeah, I know what you mean. It was…nice seeing all those kids get so happy, you know?”
“Heh, not to mention how much your kids enjoyed it,” she teases with a smirk. He thinks about protesting that they aren’t his kids, not really, but gives up before he can even start the argument. A part of him delights in the fact that other people see those little twerps as Steve’s too, even if he’d never admit it out loud to them. “Aaaand, the night’s not over yet. There’s still a few more hours before Santa officially packs it up for the year. Who knows what could happen before then?” Her eyes are twinkling, and Steve is immediately wary.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks, trying to pull her to a stop in the middle of the mostly empty Macy’s. Instead of answering, she slips out of his grip and continues out towards the workshop.
“Let’s go, Santa! The children are waiting!”
Eyes narrowed in suspicion, Steve does what he always has in these situations and follows Robin.
The evening goes slowly. There’s only a handful of children to meet him and an even smaller number of people still walking around the mall this close to Christmas. Honestly, they probably could’ve skipped the night all together and it wouldn’t have made much of a difference. Alyssa ends her shift around 6, leaving Robin and Jonathan standing around Steve’s uncomfortably giant Santa chair as they chat and wait for 8 o’clock so they can finally leave for the night.
Steve manages to forget Robin’s comments as the night wears on, right up until Jonathan checks his watch for the 4th time in five minutes before announcing he has to check something with his camera.
“Oh, I wanna see,” Robin says, with the fakest enthusiasm he’s ever heard from her. “I’ve been meaning to ask you like, how it works and stuff. You know, all the pictures and everything.”
“Yeah, definitely,” says Jonathan, like this is a totally normal thing for Robin to ask him. “C’mere, let me show you.” Without so much as a glance in his direction, both of them head over to the tripod that still holds Jonathan’s camera, their heads bent together as they talk too quietly for Steve to hear over the Christmas carols playing on the mall speakers overhead.
Feeling more confused than abandoned, Steve just kind of sits there, stuck in this chair until he can get up to leave. He doesn’t have a watch on him, but he knows it must be getting close to closing time, especially since they haven’t had any visits from children in almost 20 minutes. He’s just getting around to the idea of at least standing so he can stretch out his back or something while he waits when a voice startles him out of his boredom.
“Hey Santa, got time for one last visit?”
Steve whips his head up so fast the round glasses perched on his nose nearly slide off his face entirely. Just off to the side of the entrance to Santa’s workshop stands Eddie, his hands stuffed in his pockets and a crooked smile on his face. It isn’t mocking, despite the fact that Steve is now blushing and sweating under the oversized Santa costume and miles of fake white hair and beard. For a second, Steve doesn’t know what to say. Eddie seems so genuine, unlike his kids who came to visit because they thought it was funny. It throws Steve off entirely, leaving him unsure what the rules are for this whole interaction.
“I…hey,” he says, tongue tied and awkward. Eddie’s smile deepens.
“Mind if I take a seat?” He gestures to Steve’s empty lap and Steve promptly forgets every word in the English language he’s ever known. His brain stalls, the engine revving a few times before he manages to get it started again in time to lean back and silently offer Eddie a seat on his lap. The rest of the mall ceases to exist as Eddie Fucking Munson clomps his way into the workshop and slides himself down onto Steve’s thighs like it’s the most natural move in the world. His arm settles around Steve’s shoulders, side pressed flush against Steve’s chest, and the warmth of him, even through all the layers between them, makes Steve feel like he’s hugging a piece of the sun. His own hand ends up against the small of Eddie’s back, the other one grabbing at one of those slim, jean-covered thighs. A second impossibly huge interdimensional being could crash through the ceiling right at this moment and Steve still wouldn’t be able to tear himself away from Eddie’s pitch-black eyes, only inches away from his own.
“Eddie, what—” Steve starts to say, not even entirely sure how he wants to finish the sentence.
“Ask me.” Eddie interrupts softly. “Ask me what I want for Christmas.”
“…What do you want for Christmas, Eddie?” Steve’s voice is barely above a whisper, not meant for anyone else but the man above him.
“Well, what I want for Christmas,” Eddie says, his words slow and deliberate, “more than anything, is for my friend Steve to be with his family for the holidays.”
Steve feels something in him freeze, the request popping this strange moment between them like a bubble of grease. He leans back, already shaking his head.
“Eddie, I don’t understand. You know that—”
“No, listen, just…go to the Byers’ house tomorrow at 6, okay?” Eddie hurries to keep talking before Steve can cut him off. “I know, alright? But just, trust me. It’ll be okay. Just say you’ll be there?”
The thing is, even if no one else knows it, Eddie could ask Steve to do literally anything and he’d be helpless to agree, just because it’s Eddie. His eyes are wide and earnest, the set of his mouth betraying how nervous he really is, and Steve doesn’t even have to think about it, not really.
“I…alright. Yeah, I’ll be there.”
When Eddie smiles, it’s like the full moon finally rising above the darkened tree line to light up the night, bathing everything it touches with its otherworldly beauty.
When Steve pulls into the driveway of the Byers/Hopper residence, the house looks dark inside. The only other car parked in the driveway is Hopper’s sheriff truck, and Steve tries not to think about how awkward it would be for him to randomly show up with only Hop at home. No, Eddie said to trust him. Whatever’s going on, at least Steve knows that Eddie would never do anything to hurt him, even through embarrassment. Taking a breath, he shuts off his car and steps out into the chilly night. The slam of his door sounds unnaturally loud in the quiet of the evening and he wishes, not for the first time that night, that he’d just stayed home and gotten horrendously drunk on his own like he’d been planning.
Steve’s sneakers crunch in the snow as he shuffles his way to the front door. Whatever’s going on, he hopes it at least happens quickly so the Byers can get back to the Christmas dinner he’s no doubt about to interrupt. When he reaches the door, he notices a little sheet of paper taped to the wood that reads “Come in, Steve!” in neat, curly handwriting. The paper makes him pause for a second, wondering just what all this could possibly be. He finds the door handle already unlocked and lets himself into the darkened house.
“SURPRISE!”
Steve leaps a foot in the air and definitely doesn’t scream at the lights are thrown on and he finds himself face to face with a room full of people. Not just any people, but all his favorite people. The kids had stuffed themselves behind the sofa, leaping out when the lights were flipped to make their reveal more dramatic, and they stream towards him around the rest of the living room furniture, all loudly talking over each other as they pull him into hugs.
“I told you we were gonna pull it off!”
“Merry Christmas, Steve!”
“Dude, your face, it was so—”
“—in so you can see all the decorations we made—”
“—Mike said that you wouldn’t show up, but I—"
“Did not! I said he—”
Steve tunes them out with practiced ease, hugging each of them back and ruffling anyone’s hair he can reach, his smile so wide his cheeks are starting to hurt. Behind the kids, looking a little more calm but no less happy to see him, are Nancy, Jonathan, and Argyle. Robin stands beside Nancy, practically vibrating out of her skin to get to him after the kids are done swarming. Getting impatient, she starts to use her elbows.
“Alright, alright! Give the man some space!” Robin shouts, pushing her way through the crowd of teenagers and laughing loudly as Steve scoops her into a dramatic hug. “Glad you finally showed up, dingus!” Steve sets her back on her feet and they share a moment just looking at each other like saps before she punches his shoulder.
“Ow! What was that for?” He complains, rubbing at his shoulder even as he continues to smile at her.
“For trying to be alone on Christmas, you idiot! I thought you had plans with someone else when you said no to coming home with me.”
“Well, I didn’t wanna like, intrude or anything!” He holds his hands up in defense, hoping she doesn’t hit him again, but she just shakes her head.
“Steve, you dummy, that’s not how family works.”
“Yeah,” Dustin pipes in. “Family’s family cause you can just show up whenever you want. Especially at holidays.”
“And you know you’re always welcome here anytime you like, Steve,” says Joyce from her place by the TV. Beside her stands Hopper and then, to Steve’s surprise, Wayne Munson. Which means…
“Guess that means you’re stuck with us, Stevie.” And there, finally, is Eddie. The sight of him startles a wet laugh out of Steve; someone (and Steven can honestly guess who) convinced Eddie to wear a Christmas sweater instead of his usual denim and leather and the effect makes him look softer in the light from the Christmas tree. “Good thing I made that wish to Santa, huh?” He grins, eyes sparkling, and Steve, embarrassingly, feels his eyes start to burn.
“Y-yeah, I guess so,” he says, running a hand through his hair and ducking his head in hopes that maybe no one will notice. He’s pretty sure everyone does, they’re looking right at him, but Joyce Byers is a certified saint and claps her hands once to get everyone’s attention.
“Alright everyone! Now that Steve’s here, we can get ready to start eating! Kids, go make sure the tables are all set and ready. Jonathan, grab me a few extra chairs from the shed, I think we’re still short. Nancy, if you could…” Her voice fades away among the chatter as she leads the way out of the room, followed by the rest of them until their noise fills the rest of the house, leaving Steve and Eddie to have some semblance of privacy by the front door. Robin’s the last to head into the kitchen, flashing Steve a surreptitious thumbs-up before she ducks away.
“Can I…talk to you outside?” Steve asks, needing to be further away from the prying eyes he knew could still see them from the kitchen.
“House is a little crowded at the moment,” Eddie agrees, leading the way outside. “S’not a bad thing but there’s definitely some wandering ears in there.” Steve snorts, swiping at his eyes a bit before he shuts the door behind them. The sounds of chaos from inside are muffled, the dark of the evening making it feel like Steve and Eddie are the only two people left in the world. Keeping his eyes on Steve, Eddie leans back against the wooden railing surrounding the porch. “Steve,” he says, his voice oddly serious all of the sudden. “I hope that this whole thing was okay…I mean, you seemed to enjoy it but I dunno, I didn’t mean to like, cross any boundaries or like—”
“This is the kindest thing anyone has ever done for me.”
They both fall silent, staring across the porch at each other in the frigid air. Letting out an embarrassed laugh, Steve shrugs almost helplessly, like he doesn’t know what to do with himself in the face of all this appreciation.
“You deserve this, Steve,” Eddie says, pushing off the rail so he can step closer. “Fuck, dude, you spend so much time caring for everyone else around you. And not just the kids or Robbie or even me but fucking anyone who needs you. You’re so goddamn selfless and giving and I just wanted to show you how loved you are, Steve.” Steve isn’t able to stop the tears this time. He lets out a pathetic whine and Eddie smiles, reaching up to wipe the stray tears from his cheek. “We’re your family, man. And there’s nowhere else any of us would rather be tonight than right here.”
Steve doesn’t even think about it, doesn’t stop to consider if it’s a good idea or how Eddie will react or if this is going to ruin everything. He just leans in, closes his eyes, and kisses Eddie like he’s wanted to do since the moment the other man threw a wrinkled and blood-soaked denim vest at him for his modesty. For a moment, nothing happens. Steve starts to pull back, wondering if this is how everything comes crashing down around him, when Eddie makes a desperate noise and pulls him back in with the hand still cupping his face. This time, the kiss is like lightning, like the bluest part of a flame, like being dry and safe and far away from anything that could possibly hurt anyone that he loves. When he pulls back, it’s slow and purposeful, and he smiles at Eddie who looks partially dazed and incandescent with happiness.
“I’ve wanted to do that for a really long time,” Steve admits.
“Yeah? Me too,” Eddie grins. Steve wraps his arms around Eddie’s slim waist. They lean back in for another kiss and—
“YOU OWE ME FIVE DOLLARS SINCLAIR!”
“What?? No, I don’t! You bet the mistletoe would work and they didn’t even notice it!”
“Okay, well, it’s not my fault they’re dumbasses! They still kissed and it still counts so hand over my money!”
“Hell no! Dustin, I’m not—”
“Can you at least pretend you aren’t spying on us?” Steve shouts back as he and Eddie turn to the window beside the door in time to see a gaggle of heads duck below the frame. After a moment of furtive whispering from inside, Will’s soft voice chimes in.
“Sorry Steve! Continue with your kissing, we’ll leave now!” Steve snorts, shaking his head at his ridiculous children while Eddie uses him for support while he laughs helplessly.
“C’mon, Munson,” says Steve, squeezing Eddie against him for a moment before letting go to take his hand. “Let’s go have Christmas with our family.”