Hi! I'm Karies (30 | Austria) and I love drawing in my freetime. I'm mostly into Stranger Things | BG3 | Dragon Age | Cats | You can find my NSFW art on my 🦋☁️ @kariesart.bsky.social or 🐓@KariesSpice
My @steddieexchange gift for the incredible @karies-art !
Sorry for posting so last minute, hope it's worth the wait 🤍
WC: 7.3K | Rating: E
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
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“So,” Steve starts after a long silence, “any plans for Christmas?”
It takes Eddie’s brain a moment too long to realize Steve’s talking to him; he’s far too busy (pathetically) watching his friend’s lips curl around the cigarette he smokes, and the way his eyelids flutter ever so slightly when he exhales the cloud of gray smoke out into the night sky. Steve’s eyes are fixed on the twinkling stars above them, so he doesn’t notice Eddie staring at him.
Or so Eddie hopes.
It had become some sort of a routine; they lay out on top of Eddie’s van nearly every other night now, smoking and joking and doing nothing together. It’s not that serious, but Eddie finds himself looking forward to spending his nights with Steve all day long like a schoolgirl with a crush. Not that he has a crush on Steve, obviously. It’s just nice to be around the guy; sue him.
“Ed?” Steve asks again, turning his head to look at Eddie who very nearly jumps out of his skin with surprise.
“Huh?”
Steve chuckles and Eddie’s heart melts. “Christmas Eve? Tomorrow? Got any plans?”
“Oh! That. Nah, man, Munson Christmas isn’t in another month,” Eddie shrugs and drags on his own cigarette to keep himself warm. It’s not snowing, at least not yet, but it absolutely could with how cold it is out here. He thinks about asking Steve to huddle up for warmth but then thinks better of it. “What about you? Are your parents back for Christmas this year?”
He shakes his head. “No, I’m spending it with Dustin and Claudia this year. Wait, what’s Munson Christmas again?”
Eddie gasps, placing a horrified hand on Steve’s bicep. “Steven Harrington!” He cries. “Has’t thee not hath heard about the most wond’rful holiday of the year?”
Steve makes a point of rolling his eyes, but Eddie can see him trying very hard not to smile. His eyes dart, just for a moment, to Eddie’s hand clutching his arm. “Don’t go Shakespeare on me, man.”
“I’m sorry, Stevie, The Bard took over me for a second there,” he laughs and drops the hand from Steve’s arm and, wait, did Steve pout? “I’m just really passionate about Munson Christmas, you know?”
“I don’t know, that’s why I asked.”
“I really haven’t told you about it? Weird. Anyways, Uncle Wayne and I celebrate Christmas Eve on January 24th. His boss at the Plant pays him double for working on Christmas, and we really need the money, so we just made the decision to push Christmas back a month. Made a whole bunch of traditions about it, too.”
“Like what?” Steve asks, lying on his side and propping his head up on his wrist. He watches Eddie like he actually cares about whatever it is he’s saying, which does absolutely no weird shit to Eddie’s heart, thank you very much.
Eddie shrugs it off and takes another drag of his cigarette, avoiding Steve’s intentful gaze. “We wear stupid hats. Buy each other stupid gifts. Watch stupid movies. A big celebration of stupidity.”
“God, I love your uncle Wayne,” Steve laughs. Eddie won’t ever admit how giddy the sound of it makes him feel. The musician in him cries at him to record Steve’s laughter, to preserve it, to make it into a melody he can listen to on repeat for the rest of his life. But that’s pathetic, and a whole new ballpark of weird, so he shoves it away.
He does try to make Steve laugh as often as he can, though.
Steve lies back, putting out his cigarette on the van’s roof. “That sounds like fun.”
“Hey, you can join us this year, if you’re not doing anything on the 24th?” Eddie offers as casually as he can.
“I wouldn’t want to impose-”
“Dude,” Eddie cuts him off. “You are officially invited. Need me to do it in Shakespearean or..?”
“Please don’t,” Steve laughs, sounding almost relieved.
“Art thee sure? f’r we both knoweth I can–”
“Shut up!” Steve laughs again, and Eddie has to cover his giant grin with the crook of his arm. “So, like, should I bring anything?”
“Nope, no need. Unless you’ve got a really ugly hat. If not, I’ll give you one of mine.”
“I have something, yeah.”
“Good. Dinner starts at eight,” Eddie says, than thinks again. “Probably. Hopefully. Could be at ten for all I know.”
“Got it,” Steve smiles and sits up with a grunt. “I gotta go, I promised Robin I’ll help her pack for her flight tomorrow morning.”
“What does she need you for?”
“Adult supervision,” Steve replies simply.
Eddie chuckles at that. “Oh, that makes sense. Make sure she doesn’t hurt herself zipping up her suitcase.”
“Hey, that could be lethal!” Steve protests.
“Yeah, if you’re a fucking hamster. Wait, actually, now that I’m thinking about it…”
“Oh my god, Eddie, shut up,” Steve tries to hide his amusement with a hand down his face, but his brilliant smile shines through.
Eddie kinda wants to kiss him. He looks away.
Steve doesn’t go. Instead he sits silently with his back straight and his eyes on the stars, and Eddie closes his own to keep himself from staring. He wonders what goes through his friend’s mind. He wonders that a lot lately. He wants to pry Steve open, find out what makes him tick, know every part of him like the back of his own hands. To make a melody not just of his laughter but of the entirety of him. He wants to have him.
He has to consciously remind himself to stop thinking about his best friend like that.
Steve speaks up again and it makes not thinking just a little bit easier. “I really gotta go. Bye, Ed. See you at Munson Christmas.” Steve says while getting up, and as he turns to climb down the van he stops. “I’ll make sure my hat is way uglier than yours.”
And then the asshole fucking winks.
Eddie’s heart somersaults in his chest and he can feel his cheeks and ears growing red hot. No one’s there to look at him anymore yet he still hides his face behind his mane of curls, trying to shudder his stupidly pathetic and pathetically stupid crush away. He groans loudly when it makes absolutely no difference.
He thinks he hears Steve laughing from beneath him. He chooses to believe he hasn’t heard anything at all.
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