I’m gonna need Chrissy & Steve for #10!!!! Gimme the Christmas feels!
10. slow-dancing in the living room to classical music
You ask, I deliver. Prepare for sugar plum sweet, tooth-rotting fluff.
Christmas Day, 1985
It had taken a couple years, but Steve was finally starting to enjoy Christmas again. He had hazy memories of bright Christmas mornings when he was a kid, but by the first grade, he’d been attending his father’s corporate business party. It was a big, fancy event at a high-end catering hall where the tables had ice sculptures and the utensils were real silver. Steve couldn’t imagine how much money the company blew on it every year. His mother practically disappeared for the whole month of December to plan it and make sure everything was perfect. Friends and family were always invited, but more than anything, it was a chance for his dad to suck up to other corporate assholes under the guise of holiday cheer.
Steve didn’t hate it—at least, he hated it less than the other events he got dragged to. There were always a couple other kids there, a handful he saw every year. The kids’ table slowly became the teens’ table, and then they’d sneak outside with a couple bottles of wine to wait out the party. It was fun, but he never really enjoyed himself; it didn’t make sense even in his own head.
The Wheelers had been the ones to break the cycle. Once Steve and Nancy were official dating, Mrs. Wheeler invited him over for Christmas dinner. Steve’s parents hadn’t been thrilled, but his absence at the party would give them an excuse to brag about how he was in a “serious relationship” with a nice girl.
It had been a good Christmas, right out of one of those old paintings of a picture-perfect family around the table. The Wheelers were nice, the food was great, and it was all just so much less pretentious than what he was used to. He actually enjoyed it, and things started to make more sense.
The next year, he couldn’t go back. The problem was that he didn’t have a girlfriend as an excuse anymore. In the end, he lied about being sick so he could skip the corporate party and go to the Henderson house instead. That dinner was way bigger than the year before—Dustin and his mom, Chrissy and her dad, even Hopper and Eleven. The two of them didn’t come together, exactly. Dustin just told his mom that El was a friend from school whose parents were out of town, and Claudia hadn’t batted an eye. Everyone squeezed around the table, taking second helpings of everything and, as Steve sat squashed between Chrissy and Dustin, he hoped Christmas would be like that every year.
Well. That Christmas wish hadn’t come true.
This year, Steve’s parents made it crystal clear that they were dragging him to the party whether he liked it or not. He’d pulled the girlfriend card again, hoping to spend Christmas with Chrissy, but it didn’t work this time. After twelve days of Christmas arguments and a ton of tense negotiations, they’d come to a compromise: Steve was coming to the party, but he was allowed to bring Chrissy as his date.
“I really don’t mind,” Chrissy said in the car, after he’d apologized for the hundredth time for putting her through this. “Last year was different for you. This year will be different for me.”
“Yeah,” Steve scoffed, straightening his tie, “if ‘different’ means listening to a bunch of snobby assholes brag about their lives until you want to drill a hole in your head.’”
Chrissy reached over, grabbing one of his hands from the steering wheel and gently stroking the back of his hand. “Well then, we’ll just have to hide in a corner and make fun of everyone until it’s time to go home.”
It pulled a smile out of Steve, even though he was still annoyed. He knew he was being overdramatic. They would be able to sneak out after an hour or two, but until then, he wanted to shield Chrissy from as much of the pettiness and cruelty that he could.
The Harrington house was decked out of Christmas with pin-straight lights lining the roof and an enormous wreath on the front door. It was pretty, but Steve couldn’t look at anything but Chrissy as she climbed out of the car.
She’d been trying to calm him down the whole ride over, but Steve knew that she was nervous too. Everything was wearing was new, from her red lipstick to her emerald dress, the skirt shiny with a complicated gold pattern. When he’d gone to pick her up from her house, the sight of her had knocked the wind right out of him. Just thinking about all the time and effort and money she’d put into her appearance to impress his parents and their friends made him that much angrier about the whole thing.
He grabbed her hand as they walked up the driveway, holding it tight so her fingers would stop trembling. “You’re gorgeous, you know that?”
Chrissy’s pink cheeks flushed darker as she rolled her eyes. “Thank you. Again.”
“You’re welcome, again. Hey, by the way—have I mentioned that you’re fucking gorgeous?”
That got him a laugh, along with a shove as they hurried up the front steps and into the house.
Inside, the decorations were just as neat as they were outside. Evergreen was wrapped around the banister and lining the side tables alongside towering red candles. They ventured into the living room, where the bough continued along the balcony until it disappeared behind the oversized Christmas tree in the corner. All the ornaments were shades of white and silver, right up to the shining star on top.
“They’re home, right?” Chrissy asked uncertainly.
The house was quiet except for the instrumental music drifting from the stereo, but Steve waved off Chrissy’s concern.
“They’ll be back. They probably wandered down the block exchange gifts with the mayor or whatever.” He gestured for her to sit on the couch while he headed to the stereo cabinet. “ I don’t know why they leave this shit playing when they’re not home. I can turn it—"
“No, no! It’s fine. I love The Nutcracker.” Chrissy was wearing a tiny smile, perched on the very edge of the couch cushion. “Reminds me of Mom.”
Steve pulled his hand back from the stereo. He sat down next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, easing her into a more comfortable position fully on the couch. She leaned into his side, and Steve watched the string lights twinkle in her eyes as she thought.
“Honestly, I barely remember it,” she said softly. “It’s one of those things where it’s like—I don’t know if I actually remember, or if I’ve just thought about it so much that I think I remember, you know? I was maybe…four and a half? Mom was already sick, but it was before things got too bad. I begged them to take me to The Nutcracker for like weeks.”
“Seriously?” Steve squinted at her. “You begged them to go to the NYC Ballet?”
“Oh God, no!” She giggled and lifted a hand to cover her mouth. “No, it was a local show. Just a bunch of kids, really, but it didn’t stop me from becoming obsessed. I listened to that tape until it broke. Told Mom I was gonna be a ballerina.”
Chrissy giggled again, but it was sadder this time. Steve didn’t need her to fill in the gaps. Her mom’s health had gotten worse, and Chrissy’s life became of a blue of hospitals and rental houses. Dance classes weren’t really on the table.
The music shifted into the next section, something even Steve could almost recognize. “This one’s…?”
“Waltz of the Flowers,” Chrissy supplied.
“Right. I knew that.”
“Sure you did, baby.”
She smirked at him and Steve pouted despite the warmth that filled his chest. He stood up abruptly, shaking out his suit jacket with a flourish, then held out his hand. Chrissy raised an eyebrow, bemused.
“What are you doing?”
“Come on.” He pulled her to her feet and led her to the middle of the living room floor. “What we are doing is dancing.”
“Steve—”
He ignored her protest and lifted his arm to force her into a twirl. Chrissy wobbled in her high heels and Steve caught her against his chest as she collapsed in a fit of laughter. He grinned and pressed a kiss to her hair, his free hand finding hers and weaving their fingers together.
“Okay, uh—step back with this foot,” he instructed, nudging her right with his left, “and now sideways with this one, then together. Then you come forward with this one—yeah, there you go—”
It was a clunky rhythm, both of them laughing as they struggled to find their footing. They were stepping more than they were dancing, the music barely a suggestion at that point. It took Chrissy’s brain a minute to catch up, but when it did, she tripped over herself as she looked up at him.
“Steven Harrington,” she said in awe, “are you…? Since when can you waltz?”
He could feel his face turning red, but tried to focus on keeping Chrissy upright as she struggled. “Well, ‘waltz’ is a pretty generous word…”
“Steve.”
“Fine, I—kinda. When I was little, my cousin had this wedding and I was the ring bearer and—it was this whole thing. She made everyone in the bridal party do this opening dance. I sucked and uh—it does not look like I got any better.”
He chuckled, but to his surprise, Chrissy pulled him to a stop. She looked at him in earnest, making sure she had his undivided attention before she spoke.
“You’re amazing, Steve. And I love you.”
“I know.”
Chrissy narrowed her eyes at him, annoyed and somehow still even happier than she’d been before. She tucked her lips in to hide her smile, then closed the distance between them so she could rest her head on his chest.
They swayed on the spot, forgoing the waltz and the complicated footwork. With Chrissy’s head on his chest, Steve could almost feel her humming along to the music. For a few minutes, Steve let himself believe that his parents weren’t coming home. They’d gone to some other party and he was staying here with Christine. They’d dance in the living room until she inevitably dragged him off to dinner—with their friends, with her dad, or maybe just the two of them. There wouldn’t be any sneaking or snide comments or arguments. It was Christmas, he had Christine in his arms, and he was going to enjoy himself.
🎉 “Which one of you assholes brought confetti?” - requested by @onthepageoftears
“CHRISTINE, GET IN HERE! YOU’RE GONNA MISS IT! CHRISTINE!”
“Dustin, calm down. The house is not that big. I can hear you.”
Christine hurried back into the living room, where the entire party was waiting for her. The kids had wanted to celebrate New Year’s Eve together, now that everyone knew Eleven was officially back from the dead. It had been a hard sell for Hopper, but even he couldn’t withstand the constant pestering of six middle schoolers and four high schoolers. Even Steve, Nancy and Jonathan had gotten in on it, hounding Hopper whenever they bumped into each other in town, calling the station with various excuses to talk to him, and even visiting his cabin directly. Eventually, he gave in just to shut them up.
It would have been safer to get together at the cabin, but Hopper didn’t want the other kids to know where it was just yet. He was going to enjoy what little privacy he could for the time being. So the adults had all gotten together at the Byers’ house, and Christine was hosting the kids at her own.
“You have less than a hundred seconds!” Dustin barked again. He was kneeling on the carpet in front of the TV, bouncing up and down as the clock ticked closer to midnight. “Move it!”
Christine ruffled his curls as she passed him, carefully picked her way through the field of children. Lovingly as she could, she said, “Shut up, Dustin.”
He gave her a small salute and glued his eyes back to the screen.
“Alright, coming through, losers!” Steve shouted as he emerged from the kitchen. It was times like these that his past as a party boy came in handy. He was somehow carrying six plastic glasses of sparkling cider at the same time. “Come and get it! Chop, chop!”
The kids leapt up from their places around the living room. Dustin pushed past Mike and Eleven so he and Lucas could fight over the fullest cups. Max promptly shoved both of them out of the way and took the biggest one for herself. Will hovered at the back of the group, patiently waiting his turn and assuring an astonished Eleven that this was entirely normal.
“Here you go, Chris.”
Nancy appeared at her side, offering her a glass. Christine took it gratefully, stealing a sip before midnight. Steve had spiked all of the teens drinks with ritzy liquor from his parents’ stash—not that Christine was going to mention that to the kids. The last thing she needed was Dustin strong-arming them into letting him try alcohol in a controlled setting. Things were already hectic enough.
“It’s starting!” Mike shouted, pointing back to the television.
Everyone crowded around to watch the grainy news footage from NYC, the ball dropping in Times Square amidst hundreds of people. The clock ticked down, and Christine took a moment to look around the room at the other people there—all the kids, armed with their drinks and horns and party hats, Nancy and Jonathan, both flushed pink with an arm around each other, Steve, who had both hands on Dustin’s shoulders as they shouted.
“THREE, TWO, ONE—HAPPY NEW YEAR!”
The room was filled with screaming and party horns. Christine cheered and clapped with the rest of them, then shot her drink down in one go. She turned to hug Eleven, only to feel an arm wrap around her waist and pull her in the opposite direction. Before she knew it, Steve’s lips were on her own.
Christine melted; she always did around Steve. It was several seconds before she remembered that she was not supposed to be kissing him, and pushed him back.
“Steve,” she said, in her best attempt at stern disapproval.
“It’s New Year’s,” he said before she could argue. “You have to kiss at midnight. Everyone knows that.”
“We said we were gonna wait—”
“New Year’s kisses don’t count.”
“Uh, yeah they do.”
“They don’t!” he insisted earnestly. “Seriously, I’ll kiss Jonathan too if it makes you feel better.”
Christine rolled her eyes, but her face cracked into a wide smile. She was about to pull him in for a second kiss when there was a loud BANG that made her scream.
She whirled around, only to find the air filled with colorful confetti, fluttering down on all of them and coating every inch of the floor. A few of the kids looked delighted—until they saw Christine. Suddenly, everyone froze.
“Which one of you assholes brought confetti?” she demanded.
Everyone pointed at Lucas.
“Oh, come on,” he groaned. “You guys are supposed to have my back.”
“Sorry, dude,” said Dustin, shaking his head morosely. “It’s for the good of the party.”
“We’ll remember you,” added Mike, who clapped him on the shoulder. “Your sacrifice saved all our lives.”
Max laughed. “Told you she was gonna kill you.”
“Enough,” said Christine, waving a hand. “You better clean this up. If I find one piece of confetti tomorrow, I swear—”
She stopped abruptly, gaping at the floor. The confetti was shaking violently. Each piece trembled and crawled across the floor, collecting into a pile in front of the television. For a moment, everyone stood stunned. Then Eleven wiped the blood from her nose, and the party burst into cheers once more.
Christine pinched the bridge of her nose. She was not hosting again next year.
Here's a couple more! “You can’t keep doing this.”, “That’s irrational.”, “I’m sorry, what? I keep getting lost in your eyes.” for Christine!
“You can’t keep doing this.”
This looks dramatic but it’s really not. It’s just a buttload of fluff.
The red BMW pulled into its usual parking spot in front of the arcade. Within seconds, the backdoors were thrown open, middle schoolers piling out like it was a clown car. They did not look back as they rushed into the building, and did not notice that their chaperones had not followed them.
“You can’t keep doing this, you know,” said Steve, looking over to his passenger.
“Doing what?” asked Christine. “Coming to the arcade with you?”
“Coming to the arcade with them.”
He nodded in the rearview mirror at the children’s retreating backs, and Christine raised an eyebrow.
“Excuse me? I’m their babysitter.”
“No, Dustin said I am the babysitter.”
“Dustin was the one who invited me. And we’re both babysitters.”
“Yeah, but I’m the cool babysitter,” Steve complained. “I take them to movies and drive them places and take them to the arcade. You can…I don’t know. Help them with homework.”
Christine gaped at him. She stared, at a loss for words, and then abruptly stepped out of the car. Steve scrambled after her, leaning on top of the hood.
“Hey, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that…”
“I know what you meant,” she said, He was relieved to hear her laughing. “You’re just… You’re so new at this, it’s hilarious.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Steve, I’ve been sneaking these kids into movies for like two years. I’ve been taking them to the arcade for four. Plus, I’ve got an edge.”
“An edge?” he scoffed. “Chrissy, it’s the arcade. And you suck at these games.”
“I may not be good at video games, but there are things that I am good at. And you…not so much.”
“Like what?”
Christine shook her head, and beckoned him to follow her.
They walked into the building, overcome by the loud music and the smell of nacho cheese. Games were blaring their soundtracks, children cheering and booing and screaming. One particular argument floated over the rest.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me!” Dustin yelled. “I only got one turn!”
“Not my problem, dweeber,” said the employee he was arguing with, an older boy with long hair and Cheeto-stained fingers. “You didn’t put a quarter on top.”
“Yeah, shithead, cause I already put my quarters in the machine!”
“No consecutive games. I don’t make the rules.”
“Yes, you do! You literally work here!”
“Exactly. So if I say scram, you scram. Scadoodle. Sigh anorna.”
“It’s sayonara, dumbass.”
“Language, Dusty,” said Christine, strolling up behind him. “What’s wrong?”
“Keith,” he grumbled, jabbing a finger at the employee. “He’s trying to kick me off the machine when I already paid for my turn.”
“N-No I wasn’t!” Keith had blanched white, wide-eyed. “I was just…uh…giving him one of my quarters. Free game. On the house. Yeah. Hi, Christine.”
“Hey, Keith.” She grinned, ruffling Dustin’s hair. “See? Just a misunderstanding.”
“Oh yeah,” said Dustin, now with a Cheshire Cat smile. “Sorry, bro. I appreciate it.”
“Sure thing…bro…”
“Hey, Chrissy?” asked Dustin. “Can we get pizza?”
“Yeah sure. Keith, you think we could get a…?”
“One pie with half pepperoni and half sausage, yeah totally. And soda’s on me.”
“Oh, no, you don’t have to do…”
“No, really! I’ll bring it to your booth.”
Christine smiled, and wrapped an arm around Dustin’s shoulders. “Thanks a lot, Keith. We really appreciate it.”
“Yeah, man,” added Dustin. “Super appreciate it.”
Keith smiled. It looked painful.
“Anything for our most loyal customers. Be right back, Christine.”
He threw Steve a dark glare, and hurried behind the counter to put in their order. Dustin whooped and went back to his game, and Christine turned around with a proud smile.
“Wait,” said Steve, shaking his head. “That’s your whole thing? You flirt with the nerds to get cheap pizza and free soda?”
“What?” Christine’s smile dropped. “No! I wasn’t flirting with him.”
“Uh, yeah you were. ‘Thanks a lot, Keith. We really appreciate it.’”
“Shut up.” She blushed. “It’s not like that. One time he was giving the kids a hard time, so I flipped out on him. Now he’s terrified of me.”
“He’s not scared of you. He’s into you.”
Christine opened her mouth to reply, then snapped it shut. She looked genuinely confused, embarrassed even. She had no clue what she’d been doing. Steve grinned like a madman.
“Would you look at that? Christine Walcott, using her womanly wiles on unsuspecting geeks. You little manipulator.”
“Shut up, Steve,” she mumbled, flushing scarlet.
They found a booth, sitting down so they could keep an eye on the kids from a distance. The boys were all crowded around Dustin, who seemed to be going for a new high score on his princess game. Max was teaching El the basics of Dig Dug, though she was a terrible backseat driver. Steve kept up a one-sided conversation about his latest basketball practice and their upcoming game. Christine sat silently next to him, in her own world.
It had never occurred to her that Keith would be interested in her as more than a regular customer. Looking back, it made sense. She hadn’t been crazy enough to really scream at him, and there was no way she was strong enough to beat him in a real fight. She knew she wasn’t intimidating - she’d just thought he was a wimp.
Their pizza arrived faster than it should have.
“Alright!” said Keith. “One pie, seven…sorry, eight cups. And I gave you twenty-percent off. Special employee discount.”
He offered her a wide smile, looking nervous. Only now she knew he was nervous because he was excited, not because he was scared. She couldn’t bring herself to say thank you.
Christine pulled out her wallet, only for Steve to push her hands away. “No, I got it, Chris.”
“What? Steve, you don’t…”
“No, really. Don’t worry about it.” He threw an arm around her shoulders, and leaned forward to hand Keith a few bills. “Thanks, man. Keep the change.”
Keith’s smile slipped as he looked between them. He mumbled some polite response, and quickly disappeared into the kitchen again.
Christine turned to Steve, who was already reaching for a slice of pizza. His arm was still around her.
“What was that about?”
“Hm?” He looked up in surprise. “What? Do you like him?”
“What? No!”
“Alright, so what’s the problem? Now he knows you’re not interested.”
“No, I mean - thank you, but…” She couldn’t think of anything else to say. “Um…yeah. Thanks.”
“Anytime.” He rubbed her arm gently, and glared at the empty cash register. “Seriously, that dude gives me the creeps, bullying kids like that. You’re not coming here alone anymore.”
She wasn’t sure whether she wanted to laugh or roll her eyes and hit him. But before she could respond properly, Steve had called out “Hey shitheads!” And the party was running over to the table. Dustin and Lucas crammed themselves next to her, pressing her into Steve and Steve into the wall. She was sure her face was tomato red, but Steve just laughed and shoved Dustin’s head forward. He left his arm around her.
Christine tried not to smile into her pizza. Maybe they could both be the cool babysitter.
