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This will be Steve’s first Christmas alone.
At first, he’d told himself it wouldn’t be that bad – after all, previous Christmases had been spent with his parents on one of their rare trips home, all forced pleasantries and stiff dinners and expensive gifts with no thought behind them. The house decorated by hired staff, the turkey bought, the best cutlery laid out but there’d been no love there.
Just Mr and Mrs Harrington keeping up appearances, tolerating Steve’s presence for long enough to play happy families before jetting off elsewhere on another business trip.
But that had been…before.
Before Steve’s recent presentation, the one only his parents and Robin knew the truth about.
He’s an omega.
Unheard of in the Harrington lineage.
In a long and prosperous line, he’s the first.
Which is why his father had been so disgusted, disappointed, ashamed. Why his mother had cried down the phone while Steve lay in hospital, taken there by a fretting Robin after he’d called her in the middle of the night, feverish and confused and never once thinking the reason behind his sudden symptoms was because of a delayed omega presentation.
And it’s also why they aren’t bothering to come home for Christmas this year.
Steve knows they can’t bear to even look at him right now.
Still, he’d thought it would be ok. He could always spend Christmas with Robin. She’d asked him along, promised that her parents wouldn’t mind, but then…then her grandma had fallen ill, and there’d been murmurings of this Christmas being her last, and suddenly the Buckleys were flying to the opposite side of the country to spend it with her instead.
And worse still…Steve’s parents had cut off his allowance.
Meaning he’d had to choose between food and his blockers, because there’s no way he could afford that on top of the house upkeep and gas for his car on the pathetic Family Video wage alone.
Food had won out.
So now, on Christmas Eve, he’s curled up on the couch, a clammy ball of raging hormones as his body tries to adjust to the sudden lack of blockers, the blockers that were supposed to be tapered off gradually but he hadn’t had enough left to do so.
Packless, alone, miserable, and cold, Steve tugs the meagre items of a makeshift nest closer. He’d barely even realized he’d been building a nest until he was halfway through – he’d been so overtaken by a primal urge to collect, to gather anything soft, anything meaningful, and keep it close.
But he didn’t have much.
A sweater Robin had left behind. The blanket from the end of his bed he’d had since he was young. Dustin’s spare cap that practically lived in the beemer.
And…
And a crumpled, worn denim vest, still with blood stains that hadn’t fully come out in the wash.
Steve still hadn’t given it back, and Eddie hadn’t asked.
Perhaps he’d assumed it had been lost in the Upside Down, or deemed unsalvageable and thrown out while Eddie had been recovering in hospital.
Truth is, so long as the vest still smelled faintly of the older alpha Steve couldn’t bear to get rid of it, especially not now, after his late presentation, with his hormones going completely haywire.
He clings to it now. Adjusts his few nest items again, cheeks flushed with embarrassment because no one had taught him how to build his nest properly and it’s a shit excuse for one.
Bringing the fabric to his nose, he stifles a whine at the scent of Eddie – whiskey and leather, the forest after rain, citrus and spice. Since presenting, that smell had become so much more heightened, so much stronger, to the point where Steve often muttered some half-assed excuse and left when Eddie walked into the same room.
Eddie doesn’t know. About Steve’s presentation.
And Steve can’t tell him, can’t tell the kids either because if they found out then there’d be no point in them keeping him around. He isn’t some big bad alpha that could protect them. He’s…weak, like his father had said.
His head pounds. The weather’s turning worse, snow piling up by the front door, but it doesn’t matter – he’s got nowhere to be.
It sure is cold though, now that he can barely afford the heating bill for this massive house.
He could call someone, he thinks. Some alpha to fuck him, to warm him up, whatever. Tommy, maybe. Hell, there’s no shortage of alphas out there that would readily help him out, but, but…he doesn’t want people to talk.
And they’re not who he wants.
A friend, then. He can call a friend.
Half in a daze, he wanders to the phone. Picks it up, listens to the dial tone, sits it back down.
Who the hell would want to hear from him, anyway? Everyone’s busy with their families, it’s Christmas Eve for fuck’s sake.
It’s just…there’s this ache inside him. Something hollow, and it’s been getting bigger and darker and emptier every day since his presentation. Since his parents stopped calling, since Robin went away, since he stopped seeing Eddie and the kids once he ran out of blockers.
He has no pack.
Cursing, Steve squats on the floor, arms around his knees.
He’s not sure how long he stays there, teeth gritted and stubbornly holding back tears, the house cold and silent around him.
Finally, he picks up the phone once more. Dials the number for Robin’s grandma’s place from the note stuck on the fridge with shaky hands. Doesn’t even know what he’s doing, what he’ll fucking say, but he just needs to hear someone’s voice, silently begs that no one else answers…
“Hello?”
It’s Robin.
Steve’s knees almost buckle, and he swallows around the enormous lump in his throat.
“Helloooo?” Robin says again.
“Um…” Steve croaks, then closes his mouth, tries to force his soupy brain to come up with words.
“Steve?”
“Yeah.”
“You ok?”
“Um…I don’t…I don’t know?” Steve’s crying properly now. He clenches his jaw, swipes an angry hand across his face, hates that he can’t stop himself.
“Did something happen?” Robin’s voice lowers, and Steve pictures her huddling in some little room, her hand cupped around the receiver.
“No, I just…I miss you.” Steve exhales heavily. “I miss everyone. And I think stopping the blockers is really messing with…with stuff, you know, and it’s making shit worse, and I don’t know what to do.”
“I thought you were supposed to be spending Christmas Eve with Dustin and his mom?”
“I was.” Steve lies. He’d told Robin that so she’d feel better about leaving him for Christmas. In reality, Dustin had assumed Steve’s parents would be home for Christmas as usual, and Steve hadn’t thought of an excuse for their absence quickly enough to correct him. “But there’s so much snow here that I probably couldn’t get my car out of the driveway anyway, so I told them I couldn’t come.” All lies. There’s snow, sure, but he could’ve driven earlier in the night. “Anyway, I’m kinda feeling like shit so it’s probably good I didn’t go.”
“You’re sick?” Robin asks, concerned.
“No, I don’t know. It’s like…I can’t think straight, I’m too hot then too cold, I’ve got a headache, and I built -” He stops, cuts himself off before he can finish the sentence.
“You built what, Steve?”
He can hear other voices in the background of the call. Family, he assumes. There’s the popping of a cracker, someone laughing, the faint sound of a Christmas carol from a record player.
He wonders if the contrasting silence from his own house is loud enough for Robin to hear.
“Doesn’t matter,” he mumbles. “How’s the family?”
“Steve -”
“Your grandma, she doing ok?” Steve interjects.
He never should have called in the first place. This is maybe Robin’s last Christmas with her grandma, and he shouldn’t be dumping his issues on her right now.
Robin sighs. “She’s ok. Happy enough for now. But I’m worried about you, do you want me to -”
“I’m ok,” Steve assures her, forcing conviction into his voice. “I’ll just go to bed early, I’m sure I’ll feel better tomorrow. Have a good night, ok?”
“Steve -”
He hangs up the phone.
It’s kind of a dick move, and he hates himself even more when the phone immediately rings again and he leaves it off the hook.
Robin wouldn’t stop calling back otherwise.
Before he knows it, he’s back on the couch in his shitty excuse for a nest.
As the snow starts to turn to blizzard conditions outside, he squeezes Eddie’s vest close to his chest and hopes he can sleep through the long night.
*****
He wakes to the smell of oranges.
No, not just oranges – rain, the woods, the warm tang of whiskey.
Eddie.
“Steve? You home?”
It’s him.
He jolts upright. Fumbles to shove his tiny nest down behind him on the couch, but one arm’s still tangled in the vest and he’s stammering out a response to Eddie and telling him to hang on but then the alpha’s head pokes around the doorway and his eyes lock onto Steve’s.
“Robin called, she was worried about you and you wouldn’t answer the phone so I drove over, she told me where you keep the spare key so I didn’t break in or anything but you didn’t come to the door and…” Eddie trails off, and Steve catches him sniffing, just subtly. “Steve?” His voice softens. “Are you…ok?”
“I, um…” Steve clears his throat. His mouth opens and closes like a fish.
What the hell could he say?
Hi, yes I’m an omega, surprise! I’m also a hormonal fucking mess and I don’t know how to build a proper nest and yes this is your blood-stained vest I’m cuddling…
“I…” he chokes out again. Chills rack his body, and he trembles.
“Oh, Steve…” Eddie murmurs, and he steps closer.
Hastily, Steve holds up a hand. If Eddie gets any closer he’ll clock him for sure, that’s if he hadn’t already – there’s no way this house didn’t reek of distressed, lonely omega. “No, just…just leave, ok? I’m fine. Just got, like…a flu or something.”
Eddie stops. Keeps his posture relaxed, calm, palms turned towards Steve – doing everything he could to appear not a threat. “When did you present?” he asks, soft, voice just above a whisper.
Steve’s eyes fill up with tears again. He grits his teeth against them, shakes his head, can’t talk or he’ll cry.
Eddie inches forward again. His scent is stronger now, projected out towards Steve, the alpha trying to calm him.
Steve remains in his spot on the couch, one hand fisted in Eddie’s vest, eyes fixed to the floor.
Crouching down, Eddie stops by the couch, tilting his head to try and catch Steve’s eye. “Steve? Hey, it’s ok. You been…making a nest?” Eddie gestures to the few items gathered around Steve.
Steve sniffs. “Not a very good one.”
“Looks like you were just working with what you had,” Eddie points out gently.
“I…” Steve looks down at the vest. “Sorry. This is fucking weird, look you can have it back. I shouldn’t have kept it.”
“Consider it a gift,” Eddie tells him.
Weakly, Steve nods, still avoiding his eye, his cheeks on fire with a mix of embarrassment and fever.
“This isn’t a flu, is it?” Eddie’s voice is soothing, a balm to the loneliness festering away in Steve’s gut.
“No,” Steve mumbles. “I was on blockers. Ran out. This is like…withdrawal, or something, or my hormones all fucked up.”
Slowly, Eddie nods. “How long were you on blockers for?”
“I started as soon as I, um…presented. Back in June.”
“You know you’re not supposed to take them constantly, right?”
Steve shrugs. “How else was I supposed to cover it up?”
“Why do you need to?” Eddie asks with a frown.
Steve doesn’t answer. Just lets his tired eyes drift to Eddie, takes in the sight of the alpha crouched on his living room floor, curls falling around his face, clad in a worn but warm-looking winter jacket.
“Cold in here,” Eddie comments, dropping the previous subject.
“Can’t afford the heating,” Steve tells him.
Eddie’s eyes widen. “You can’t stay here, then.”
“S’fine.”
“Don’t your parents usually come home this time of year?”
“Uh huh.”
“But not this year?”
“No.”
“And with Buckley away…are you on your own for Christmas?”
“Yeah.”
“No.” Eddie shakes his head. “Nope, you’re coming with me.”
“Eddie – ” Steve argues as the alpha pushes himself to his feet.
“C’mon, let’s pack some stuff for you. Where’s your bag?”
“I can’t just crash your Christmas!” Steve protests.
“Sure you can,” Eddie retorts. “Wayne always cooks too much food, and he’s not gonna mind. He’s working night shift tonight anyway. Besides…you know this isn’t just blocker withdrawal, right?” Eddie’s tone turns more serious.
Steve blinks at him a few times. “Huh?”
“It’s isolation sickness, Steve.”
…oh.
And sure, Steve had heard of that in passing, everyone had – it was something anyone without a pack could suffer, regardless of their designation, but omegas were far more susceptible than alphas or betas.
It had just never occurred to him that it would actually happen.
Well, fuck.
“No, it’s just…” Steve shakes his head briefly, tries to clear it, but it only throbs in response.
“When did you last see someone? I mean for longer than just, like, in passing?”
Steve thinks. Aside from work, and Keith did not count as company, it would’ve been the day before Robin left, when she’d spent most of the day at his house watching movies. “Like…ten days ago.”
A small rumble sounds from Eddie’s chest. It’s the noise of a displeased alpha, and Steve fights the sudden urge to chirp back at him, to placate and soothe. If possible, his cheeks flush even redder.
“You’re coming with me,” Eddie says, leaving no room for argument.
His hand is on Steve’s arm before he can put up any further complaints. With surprising strength, he helps haul Steve off the couch and upright, the latter swaying slightly on his feet and steadied by the alpha still hanging onto him.
Face to face now, Steve gets a lungful of Eddie’s intoxicating scent.
For a moment, his head clears, the fog dispersing. The hammering in his skull dulls.
Eddie looks at him with those big Bambi eyes, crinkled at the corners, and Steve could swear they’re even darker than usual.
Silence reigns for a long, drawn-out moment. Steve swallows, his body relaxing, fever cooled by the mere touch of his alpha friend.
“Um…my room’s this way,” Steve all-but whispers.
Stiffly, Eddie nods, and Steve sees his throat bob with a swallow. “Uh huh. You want me to wait here, or…”
“No,” Steve says simply, grabbing Eddie’s arm, earlier embarrassment giving way to the sheer need to have this man close.
He tows Eddie up the stairs - the same stairs he’d been too dizzy to manage earlier – and down the hallway to his bedroom. While Steve grabs a bag from his wardrobe and starts throwing a few clothing items into it, Eddie stands a little awkwardly by the end of his bed.
The alpha’s scent starts to fill the small room, and something kicks in Steve’s gut. To have his bedroom, this intimate space, smelling so strongly of the other man…
Well.
It’s certainly doing something to the hormones currently rampaging through his system. He can practically feel his own scent pouring off him in waves, mingling with Eddie’s, and he hopes it doesn’t bother the alpha too much, knows he probably stinks right now with how much of a mess he is.
Scrubbing a hand across his face, Steve gets himself together. “Ok, that’s all I need.”
Eddie’s hand is white-knuckled on the end of the bedframe. “Cool. Ok. Yeah. Shall we go?”
“Uh huh. So long as you’re still sure?”
“Yep, so sure. Very sure.”
Passing the lounge, Steve pauses, staring back at the couch where his little nest items remain.
Eddie nudges him with his hip. “You wanna bring those?”
Steve ducks his head, cheeks heating again. “Nah, s’fine.”
“Plenty of room in your bag, c’mon, let’s grab them,” Eddie decides for him, striding over to the couch. Halfway through reaching for the vest and Robin’s sweater, he suddenly stops, as if catching himself. “Shit, sorry,” he says. “Can I touch your nest?”
“Yeah, sure,” Steve says, a little confused by the gravity on Eddie’s face.
“Thank you.”
Eddie gathers up the couple of items carefully, almost reverently, while Steve watches.
He’s struck dumb by the care with which Eddie treats his sorry excuse for a nest.
“Ok, we can fit this stuff in the bag, or did you want to carry it for the drive?” Eddie checks, like he really cares, like it matters.
“Um…” Steve’s about to tell him to just put it wherever, that it makes no difference to him but…but something inside him is screaming to be close to those few comfort items. He takes them from Eddie’s arms, holds them close to his chest, turning away in embarrassment and striding for the door before he can meet Eddie’s eye.
It’s freezing outside.
The snow’s still falling, and Steve squints to see his way to Eddie’s van, traipsing through a layer of white mush.
“Hey, watch your step,” Eddie calls out behind him, jogging ahead to stick close to Steve’s side.
Steve almost growls at him, at the implication that he needs help, that he can’t walk through a little snow on his own but…but he likes having Eddie beside him. Likes the alpha’s scent washing over him, likes the solid presence of him, likes the calm that settles over him when he’s near.
“You drove in this weather?” Steve peers out the window as Eddie turns the key, the van rattling to life.
“Yep. She’s old, but she’s trusty.” Eddie raps his knuckles on the dash. He fiddles with the heat. “Sorry, sometimes you gotta…there you go.” He grins triumphantly as hot air blasts from the vents. “Oh wait, do you have a fever? You’re kinda flushed.”
“I think I did but I kinda feel better now,” Steve tells him, and it’s true.
“Huh,” Eddie huffs out, reversing carefully down the drive.
“Yeah, it’s weird.”
“Weird?”
“Well, isolation sickness wouldn’t go away that quickly, right?” Steve’s head still hurts and he’s still shivering a bit, but he definitely feels a hell of a lot better than he had before Eddie showed up.
Eddie turns to him, waggling his eyebrows. “Depends,” he says with a smirk.
“On what?”
“On how much you like me, big boy.”
Steve scoffs at that, and Eddie grins away as he steers the van slowly out of Loch Nora.
For a while, there’s silence, broken only by the faint music coming from the tinny radio.
Blame the comfortable warmth settling into his bones. Blame the discomfort leaching out of his system. Blame the heady whiskey and citrus scent of the man beside him.
Steve blames all of those things as he starts to talk.
“I know this is kinda surprising, me being…well. This. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. Just, I didn’t want things to change, I didn’t want people thinking I couldn’t look after them if something happens with the Upside Down again, I didn’t want to be like…a burden, I guess. And that’s not me trying to imply that omegas are naturally weak or anything because I’ve met Joyce and she can be fucking fierce, but I always thought I’d be an alpha, you know? Like all the other Harringtons.”
Eddie hums softly in acknowledgement, listening. His face glows in the yellow of passing streetlights, in the gentle twinkle of red and blue Christmas lights.
“Everything depended on me being an alpha. My future, the job my dad had laid out for me, I’d never planned on being anything else. And when I didn’t present during high school when everyone else did, Doc Owens told me it was probably due to stress, due to repeat injuries and all the Upside Down shit and that I’d present when I was ready. So I didn’t worry that much about it. But then when it did happen, I was alone in my house in the middle of the night and I honestly just thought I was sick because there was no way I was an omega.” Steve flinches at the memory of it, of being confused and alone and scared with cramps gnawing at his stomach. “I called Robin and she took me to hospital, where they told me what had happened.”
“And then you started on blockers?” Eddie confirms.
“Yeah. I wasn’t ready for people to know.”
“Must have been some strong shit you were on, I couldn’t smell you at all the last time I saw you.”
Steve shifts in his seat, subtly turns his wrists away from Eddie, stuffing them under the vest in his lap in the hopes it would dull his scent – it’ll do nothing to help the scent gland on his neck, but still. “Fuck, sorry,” he mumbles. “I’m probably stinking out your van.”
“Oh, hell no,” Eddie says sharply. “You smell…good.”
There’s a beat.
Steve stares at him.
Eddie’s eyes flick to his, then back to the road. He grips the steering wheel with both hands, hard. “Didn’t mean to make it weird.” Eddie stares straight ahead.
“No, just…what do I smell like? To you?”
“Like summer,” Eddie replies immediately. “Like…sunshine, sea salt, like…a meadow on a warm day, when you can smell every flower but it’s not overpowering it’s just…it’s just right. You don’t stink, it’s the opposite, actually.”
The breath leaves Steve’s lungs. “…oh,” he murmurs.
“Yeah.” Eddie clears his throat.
Steve lets the crumpled items of his nest slip down his lap a little, revealing one wrist again, watches Eddie’s eyes flick to it for the briefest of moments before looking away again.
They pull up at Forest Hills outside Eddie’s trailer. There’s a few scant lights carefully strung up above the windows, twinkling in the dark, and Steve smiles when he sees them.
“Very metal,” he teases, and Eddie slaps him lightly in the shoulder.
“Shut up, dude. Wayne likes them, alright?”
“Uh huh.”
“Let’s get inside before we freeze our asses off.”
Steve follows Eddie up to the door, kicks the worst of the snow from his shoes before taking them off and stepping inside.
He’s only been inside the trailer a few times, but he likes it here. It’s small, cozy, worn in a way that the Harrington house will never be. There’s trinkets everywhere – more than usual, currently, with Christmas decorations strewn around the place and the stockings hanging up by the little tree in the corner of the main room.
“We don’t have a spare bed, so you can take mine, I’ll use Wayne’s while he’s at work,” Eddie says, but Steve’s not having that.
“I’m not kicking you out of your own bed, Eddie. And I’m sure Wayne wouldn’t want another omega messing up his nest, so I’m not taking his.”
“It’s fine, I don’t mind.”
“No, just…your bed’s big enough to share, right?”
Eddie stops in his tracks, and for a moment Steve wonders if he’d just made a terrible error.
What a stupid fucking thing to suggest, why would he want to share?
“Sorry, forget it. I can take the couch or something,” Steve mumbles quickly, adjusting his bundled nest in his arms.
Eddie turns around. Stares at him, and Steve swears he sees his pupils dilate, his scent increasing tenfold. “No,” he almost growls. “We can share.”
A short time later, Steve’s rifling through his bag, looking for a t-shirt to put on to sleep in while Eddie’s on the phone to Robin assuring her Steve’s with him and is ok.
Frustratedly, Steve tosses both shirts he’d packed aside. They’re not…not soft enough, too tight, or smell too much like his bland, empty bedroom.
“Wanna borrow one of mine?” Eddie asks from behind Steve, causing him to jump a little.
Sighing, Steve slumps even further where he’s kneeled by his bag. He nods, feels small as Eddie goes through his drawer, as he holds up t-shirts until he hands one over to Steve with a smile.
It’s plain, dark grey, well worn, and perfect.
Steve tugs his own t-shirt off and replaces it with Eddie’s, feeling the alpha’s eyes on him the whole time. Immediately, he’s surrounded even more by Eddie’s scent, practically cocooned in it now, and he feels his eyes grow heavier.
“C’mon, into bed before you pass out,” Eddie encourages. “Bring your nest things, spread them out wherever you like.”
He does. Carefully places Eddie’s vest, Robin’s sweater, Dustin’s cap, and his own old blanket down on one side of Eddie’s bed, rearranges them frustratedly several times until they feel right. Eddie waits patiently, sitting on his side of the bed, watching curiously but not in an overbearing way.
It’s intimate. Having the alpha’s eyes on him while he perfects the little nest.
Steve finds he doesn’t mind all that much.
A short time later, finally sinking into Eddie’s bed, he feels…
Safe.
The alpha’s beside him, strictly sticking to his half of the bed, facing away from Steve.
Steve’s fighting the primal urge to reach for him. To sink into Eddie’s arms, to burrow close to his chest, to hold and be held.
It’s this fucking…omega shit.
But that’s a lie, and he knows it.
He’d been stealing glances at Eddie long before he presented.
The truth is, ever since Eddie had slammed him up against the wall of Reefer Rick’s boatshed all those months ago, Steve had been having…thoughts.
Thoughts that are now amplified by an alarming amount.
He rolls to face away from Eddie. They’re almost back-to-back in the small bed, but they’re not touching, and that’s the main thing.
Steve’s not sure what he’d do if they touched right now.
Thankfully, it’s not long until sleep takes him – his earlier sickness and the warmth and comfort of Eddie’s bed dragging him quickly under.
*****
When he wakes in the morning, he’s pressed against Eddie’s chest, and there’s a weird noise in the room.
A quiet rumble, and it’s coming from him.
Steve startles, jolting away from Eddie, hoping to hell the alpha hadn’t heard him fucking purring.
He’d never done that before. Wasn’t even sure he could. But here, basically rolling in Eddie’s scent, Steve’s more comfortable than he ever remembers being.
“Steve? Y’ok?” Eddie mumbles, his voice thick with sleep.
“Yeah. Sorry. Didn’t mean to smother you all night.” Steve sits up a little, bringing the covers with him because it’s chilly in the room.
Eddie blinks his eyes open, and he smiles up at him. “You kidding? That’s the best sleep I’ve had in ages.”
Sheepishly, Steve smiles back at him. “Me too, actually.”
“You can sleep a little longer, if you like. Wayne would’ve got back -” Eddie glances at the bedside clock. “- two hours ago. So he’ll sleep a bit more before getting up and doing Christmas stuff anyway.”
“I could do something to help? I could…make breakfast, or something?” Steve fiddles with the edge of the blanket, feels the need to be useful.
Eddie shakes his head. “You should rest a little more, you were pretty sick yesterday.”
“I feel way better now.”
It’s the truth. He might’ve been in full-blown isolation sickness yesterday, but a night in Eddie’s arms seemed to have nearly cured him of all symptoms.
“Good, I’m glad. Well, do you wanna…I dunno, do some Christmasy shit?” Eddie suggests.
“Like what?”
“What do you usually do on Christmas?”
Steve scoffs. “Church, then formal lunch with my parents and sometimes other family where we all pretend to like each other, then we sit around and open pointless gifts while mom gets quietly drunk and picks a fight with dad and I wait until an acceptable time to say I’m tired and go up to my room to get away from them.”
Eddie blinks a few times. “…yeah, we’re not doing any of that.”
“Well thank fuck for that.”
“We can’t do anything that’ll wake up Wayne, but…you wanna walk around and look at the lights? It’s still early, sun’s not fully up yet.”
Steve smiles. “Yeah, sounds good.”
The best part about the morning being cold is that Steve has an excuse to hold Eddie’s hand. The second best thing is that he hadn’t really packed anything suitable for the cold, so he’s got Eddie’s hoody on.
With his nose tucked into the collar of that hoody, Steve walks side-by-side with Eddie around the trailer park, looking at the various colourful lights strung around doors and windows and stair railings. Eddie murmurs to him about the occupants of each trailer they pass, his mouth close to Steve’s ear, warm breath tickling his neck.
“That’s Betty’s trailer, she’s pushing ninety, she’s got this little white dog that’s completely blind but I swear that thing knows when I’m high, it stares at me from the window like it’s gonna call the fucking cops on me or something. And this is Mr Burns’, I scraped his car when I backed out too quick once, never seen a man turn so red with rage in my whole life, and I’ve pissed off a lot of people. Oh, this is Dot’s, she’s good people. Bakes these cookies, best ones I’ve ever had. And hey, you know Max’s, we could call in later, see how she’s doing.”
Hanging out with Eddie is…easy. Kind of like breathing, Steve’s finding. He chats away effortlessly, holds Steve’s hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and with every passing moment Steve feels that empty hole inside himself shrink a little.
By the time they return to the trailer, they don’t have long to wait for Wayne. They sit in front of the tree, mugs of hot chocolate in hand.
“You sure Wayne won’t mind me being here?” Steve checks, again.
And again, Eddie assures him he won’t.
“I don’t have presents for you guys. I mean, I didn’t think I’d be here, but still, feels kinda shitty when you’re doing all this for me.” Steve gazes at the little second-hand tree, with its worn plastic branches and thin strands of tinsel. It doesn’t hold a candle to the enormous tree that had dominated the Harrington lounge in past years, each decoration meticulously placed on fake snow-tipped branches.
Still, Steve knows which one he prefers.
Eddie shrugs. “We’re not big on presents here, anyway. Me and Wayne get something little for each other, and that’s it.”
As if on cue, there’s a shuffling of footsteps from the next room, a door creaking open, and a tired-looking Wayne wanders into the living room.
He glances at Steve for a moment, blinks, then turns to Eddie. “Merry Christmas,” he says, voice croaky with sleep.
“You too, old man,” Eddie shoots back. “Steve’s joining us, if that’s ok? He was gonna be alone for Christmas otherwise.”
Wayne’s gaze returns to Steve, who can only imagine what the other man is thinking. Sure, the two had met before during Eddie’s recovery, but now Steve’s an omega sitting cross-legged on his floor, wrapped up in his nephew’s hoody, probably still a little pale and sickly-looking in the wake of his isolation sickness.
Awkwardly, Steve lifts a hand and gives him a small wave. “Hi.”
“Hello,” Wayne replies, then shakes his head minutely at Eddie, giving him a fond smile.
Clearly, it’s not the first time the young alpha had brought home strays.
“Sorry to intrude on your Christmas,” Steve adds. “I can help cook and clean up -”
“None of that, you’re a guest,” Wayne interrupts. “You like ham?”
“Yes.”
“Good, ‘cause I’ve got enough to sink a damn ship. Won it in a raffle, took me all of yesterday to cook it.” Wayne squints at Steve. “You alright, kid? You look a little pale.”
“Oh, I’m f-”
“He had isolation sickness,” Eddie cuts in. “His parents weren’t coming home for Christmas, and he was on his own. That’s why I brought him here.”
“All alone in that big old house? On Christmas?” Wayne raises an eyebrow.
“Um, yeah,” Steve manages.
Wayne lets out a whistle. “Well, make yourself at home here. Now, I need coffee. You boys want any?”
Steve and Eddie migrate from the floor to the couch as Wayne and his nephew exchange gifts. He smiles politely as the two unwrap them – Wayne carefully, methodically, telling Eddie that the paper can be reused but it falls on deaf ears, Eddie shredding his way into his gifts like a raccoon rifling through trash. A book, a tape, and a new guitar pick are amongst Eddie’s small haul, whereas Wayne receives a new mug for his collection – some sort of private joke Steve’s on the outside of, but it makes Wayne chuckle when he unwraps it.
There’s a knock on the trailer door shortly before lunch. Wayne stands up, knees creaking, and heads over to answer it, leaving Eddie and Steve side by side on the couch.
Eddie nudges his leg. “Still feeling ok?”
“Uh huh.” Steve feels…pretty damn great, actually. Warm, safe, wrapped up in Eddie’s clothes and surrounded by the scent of the content alpha.
Eddie’s gaze lingers on him for a long moment. “Keep the hoody,” he says finally.
“Hmm?”
“The hoody,” Eddie repeats. “You like it, yeah? So consider it your Christmas gift. Add it to your nest or something.” His cheeks colour suddenly, and he shakes his head. “Well, if you want to, you don’t have to, I didn’t mean to like…imply something.”
“Oh, it’s going in the nest,” Steve says, flashing him a small grin.
Eddie blinks. Slow, like a cat, his eyes softer than Steve had ever seen.
From the doorway, Wayne clears his throat, and the two boys jump a little.
“We’ve got another guest for lunch,” he says, gesturing to the red-headed girl beside him.
“Hey Max,” Eddie greets.
Steve freezes a little. There’s no way she can’t scent him, can’t pick up on his…omeganess.
Sure enough, her eyes widen slightly when she sees him. “Steve?”
“Hi,” he manages with a little waggle of his fingers.
“You’re…” She frowns, then raises her eyebrows.
“Yeah. Surprise.”
Max collects herself, then shrugs. “Whatever, s’cool.”
She looks a little pale herself, Steve thinks. There’s shadows under her eyes, tiredness lingering, her normal energy deflated.
“Hope you like ham,” Eddie tells her, “Wayne’s basically got a whole pig in the fridge.” His face turns more serious. “Your mom, is she…”
“Hungover again?” Max scoffs. “Yeah, she barely got out of bed. I tried to ring El but they didn’t answer, I think her and Hopper are at the Byers’ for Christmas, and I can’t get there in this snow. I just didn’t want to spend Christmas alone, I know that’s like…stupid, or whatever.”
On instinct, Steve stands up, goes to her, loops an arm across her shoulder. Max might be a budding alpha, might be prickly and quick to assure everyone she’s fine, but all he’s sensing right now is a pup in need of pack. She tenses for a moment, then sinks into his side with a reluctant smile.
Christmas lunch at the Munson trailer is the most relaxed occasion Steve’s ever experienced. There’s no scraping of expensive cutlery on plates, no stiff attempts at conversation that dies after a few words, no feeling like everything was going to implode at any moment. Eddie and Wayne talk easily, food is handed around, and Steve and Max join in where they can, feeling less and less like the outsiders with every passing minute.
A holiday movie is showing after lunch, something a little cringe and sugary but it’s somehow perfect. Wayne heads off for a nap part-way through, still tired after working all night, and Max returns to her own place to check on her mom after promising to come back for dinner if Susan wasn’t up to making anything.
Steve and Eddie are left alone on the beaten-up, way-too-comfortable couch.
Sagged against Eddie, Steve’s eyes are heavy. The final remnants of his isolation sickness, the large meal he’d just had, and the warmth of the room and company were causing him to almost drift off.
Eddie nudges him. “You ok?” he murmurs.
“Mmm hmm. Just kinda tired.”
“Sleep, if you like.”
Steve bites the inside of his lip. The truth is, he doesn’t want to fall asleep, because then this day will be over much more quickly. He’ll have to go home before he overstays his welcome – after all, as kind as Eddie and Wayne had been, this isn’t his home, he doesn’t belong here.
They’re not his pack.
…but they could be, right? Maybe.
Because he can feel this…pull towards Eddie. It’s deep, in his marrow. The same thing that had so quickly flushed the sickness from his system was tugging at him, drawing him closer and closer to the alpha…
“Steve?” Eddie whispers, eyes wide.
Steve isn’t sure when he’d ended up half in Eddie’s lap. When his hand had strayed to the back of Eddie’s neck, curls tangled between his fingers, the warmth of bare skin below his palm.
Citrus spikes in the air, blooming with damp forest and whiskey tang and Steve inhales slowly, letting it wash over him.
“Eddie, I…” Steve closes his eyes, shakes his head. “Sorry. Shit, I ah…I dunno what happened.”
He goes to shift, but Eddie’s hands settle on his waist. “Stay,” he murmurs.
Steve’s hand shifts to Eddie’s cheek, strokes across it as the alpha stares up at him, wide eyes framed by long lashes.
He kisses him. Slow, at first, experimental, because Eddie seems a little tentative but not for long. Hand splayed across Steve’s back, Eddie deepens the kiss, and Steve immediately responds in kind.
A contented sigh escapes Steve. He breaks away from Eddie’s mouth eventually, leans forward to bury his face in his neck instead, nosing over the scent gland below Eddie’s jaw.
With Eddie’s fingers teasing through his hair, Steve almost surrenders to sleep again, but jerks himself awake at the last moment.
He doesn’t want this moment to end.
“Want to move to bed?” Eddie whispers, then screws his eyes shut, shakes his head. “I didn’t mean…we don’t have to…do anything, s’just you’re tired and we can always sleep until dinner. Just…if you want to.”
Steve smiles. Leans up to kiss the alpha again, enjoying the answering rumble from deep in his chest.
Eddie takes him by the hand. Leads him to his bedroom, nudges the door closed with his foot.
Steve all but tugs him into his makeshift nest on Eddie’s bed. Strips off his borrowed hoody, tucks it amongst the other items, then wraps himself around Eddie and closes his eyes. He breathes deep, letting the alpha’s scent fill his lungs, letting it chase out any remaining scrap of isolation sickness.
“Stay here?” Eddie asks, soft, voice just above a whisper. “With me. You don’t have to be in that big old house by yourself.”
It’s like the alpha had read his mind.
In response, Steve burrows closer to Eddie, nods against his chest.
Eddie noses in to his neck, loops an arm around Steve’s waist, holds him close. “Merry Christmas, Steve,” he murmurs, lips gently pressed to the scent gland below Steve’s ear.
“Merry Christmas, Eds.”