Work Text:
❅❅❅
December 4th, 1983
Nancy Wheeler is a very pretty girl. Claudia can understand why Dusty is so smitten by her, which is also why she’s a bit surprised by his reaction when she asks about the Wheelers’ Christmas plans.
“They’re staying in Hawkins this year,” Dustin mutters, listlessly poking at his ham with his fork.
“Oh, that’s nice,” Claudia says, scooping some more Brussels sprouts onto his plate.
Dustin stabs at his ham as the expression on his face turns sour. “Steve’s gonna be there too, I think.”
“I see. Is Steve Nancy’s boyfriend?”
Claudia can vaguely recall him from when Will was found in the woods, the poor thing. She’d been coming off her shift at the hospital when she got the news, and had subsequently found Dusty in the very last place she ever wants to see him – in the hospital recovery wing, even if he was just sitting in one of the chairs in the waiting room. She’d still been very upset, and so focused on making sure Dusty was alright, that she hadn’t paid much attention to the other people in the room, though she thinks she might remember there having been a lanky teenage boy keeping to himself somewhere in the background.
“He’s a douchebag,” Dusty proclaims rather emphatically, seeming far more upset about Steve than the growing mountain of greens rising before him.
“Dustin!” Claudia scoops another spoonful onto his plate, because if Dusty can use adult language, then he can eat an adult portion of sprouts.
“Sorry. But he is a jerk.”
Claudia tut-tuts at him. “Now,” she says, “I can’t believe Nancy would date a jerk.”
“It’s the hair!” Dustin blurts out, his cheeks pinking up. “It’s— He’s got really great hair.”
“Well,” Claudia says, “I bet he doesn’t have curls like yours, now does he?” She sets the vegetables aside and reaches out to run her fingers through his hair, and Dustin squirms at the touch like Mews about to get a bath.
“No,” he pouts.
“Now finish up your dinner. I’m going to need your help putting up the last of the decorations.”
Dustin sighs as he looks down at his plate, but dutifully spears one of the sprouts with his fork.
❅❅❅
December 15th, 1984
“Just tell me when you want to leave, honey,” Claudia says.
She’s in the kitchen, putting away the last of the dishes as Dustin rifles through the couch cushions. He looks darling in his suspenders and bowtie – her little man, all grown up and ready to dance the night away!
“You don’t have to take me,” Dustin says, shoving a cushion aside. “Steve’s giving me a ride. Have you seen my brown paper bag?”
“Oh, is Steve going to chaperone the dance?” Claudia wipes her hands on the dishtowel and bends down to pick up Tews, who’s busy winding himself around her ankles; he purrs and rubs his head against her chin, kneading at her shoulder as he settles in her arms. “And have you looked in your room?”
“No, he’s just gonna drop me off,” Dustin says, frowning. “I looked there, but I’ll check again.”
Claudia smiles, taking a seat in the recliner as she watches him dash off, and then hums thoughtfully as she gives Tews a scratch behind the ears.
Steve.
Claudia’s heard a lot about Steve Harrington over the past month. For a few days after that awful Hargrove boy attacked Dusty and his friends, it had been nothing but Steve this and Steve that, Dustin’s eyes shining with excitement as he spoke of the older boy.
Claudia has yet to meet him, but according to Dusty, Steve placed himself between Lucas and Billy Hargrove to take a beating meant for the kids, and that alone would have endeared him in Claudia’s eyes, even if Dustin wasn’t already practically vibrating with hero worship – he’s always been a good judge of character, her Dusty.
“Son of a bitch! Son of a bitch!” And there he comes, stomping back out of his room, empty-handed.
“Where did you see it last?” she asks as Dusty heads into the kitchen.
“Right here, where I put it!” he says, gesturing at the kitchen counter before he starts rummaging around.
Claudia sighs. “What’s in there that’s so important anyway? You look fabulous, baby.”
“Got it!” Dustin exclaims. He ignores her question and rushes back into his room, clutching the brown paper bag to his chest, just as the doorbell rings.
“That’s your ride,” Claudia calls after him. “Dusty!”
“Could you get it, Mom?!”
Claudia sighs and gently sets Tews down, carefully makes her way to the door and trying not to trip and fall as he weaves his body around her legs. As soon as she opens the door Tews slips outside, and the boy who’s standing on the doorstep startles as the cat barrels past him.
Steve – because it must be – quickly recovers, grinning as he turns to watch Tews crawl beneath Claudia’s Volvo, the cat’s tail swishing as it spots something interesting in the shadows. As Tews slips out of sight Steve turns his attention back to Claudia, his smile widening, and oh, she can just tell he’s going to be a charmer.
“Hello, Mrs. Henderson,” he says, very politely. “I’m here to pick Dustin up.”
He’s not quite what Claudia has expected – not that she can remember how she’d pictured him now that they’re actually face-to-face. She had imagined someone shorter, perhaps, because Steve is a tall boy with pleasant features – not conventionally handsome, but sweet-faced nonetheless – and with a head of hair that some of Claudia’s friends might possibly kill for. He’s got his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, shoulders hunched against the chill of the evening air, and Claudia quickly takes a step to the side to let him through the door.
“Steve! Oh! Come on in – you must be freezing!” she says, because he’s not wearing a jacket, and then, “It’s just Claudia, dear. It’s so nice to meet you!”
And she finds that she means it, because she sometimes still gets heart palpitations just thinking about what could have happened in that house with that other boy if Steve hadn’t been there.
Steve steps inside with a thankful look on his face. Claudia closes the door behind him, and then can’t resist immediately taking a step forward to pull him into a hug. It seems to catch Steve off guard, because for a split second he stiffens like he doesn’t quite know what to do with himself, the poor boy, but then he relaxes somewhat and she can feel his hands come up to hover, if not quite rest, against her upper back.
“I hope you know how much I appreciate what you did for Dusty and his friends,” she whispers over his shoulder. “If you hadn’t been there—” She breaks off, the thought making her cling just a little bit tighter before she reluctantly lets him go.
Steve looks bashful as he takes a step back, ducking his head as he runs a hand through his hair. “They’re good kids,” he says, sounding effortlessly sincere, and Claudia’s suspicions are being proven correct; not five minutes, and she’s already well on her way to being utterly charmed.
“Mom!” Dustin calls from his room, and the volume of his voice is loud enough to make Steve visibly startle. “Did you get the door? Is he here?!”
Claudia can’t help but laugh. “You better get in there,” she says. “He’s a bit nervous about tonight.”
Steve looks like he wants to comment on that, but then simply smiles at her instead. “It was nice meeting you, Mrs. Henderson,” he says, before Claudia shoos him towards the back of the house.
Steve disappears around the corner, and she can hear Dustin exclaim “Steve! Finally!” from his room just a moment later.
“Dude, you knew I was coming,” Steve’s voice drifts through the house. “Why aren’t you ready?”
“I think I did it wrong,” Dusty says, and Claudia, drawn by their voices, finds herself standing in the hallway outside Dustin’s room.
She watches as Steve places his hands on Dustin’s shoulders from behind, both boys peering into Dustin’s mirror wearing matching frowns; her baby’s attempted to straighten his hair and slick it back, but whatever product he used isn’t strong enough to hold all those darling curls in place. Steve reaches out to tug at one that’s already broken free, watching it valiantly try to spring back into its curl pattern as he lets go.
“Ow!” Dustin complains.
“Don’t ‘ow’ me, shithead,” Steve says, and his choice of words would’ve made Claudia bristle if his voice hadn’t sounded warm and steeped in fondness. “Now stop moving and let me fix this.”
“Fine,” Dustin mutters, and Claudia can tell that he’s embarrassed; he stares dolefully at Steve’s reflection in the mirror, but still remains remarkably pliant as he lets the older boy move his head this way and that.
“Yeah, this look’s not gonna work for you,” Steve says, tugging at another curl. “You gotta learn to play to your strengths.”
“Yeah?”
“Sure. Trust me.”
“I do!” Dustin insists, loudly and emphatically, and Claudia feels a burst of affection for both of them.
“Then shut up and watch the master,” Steve says, reaching for the comb resting on top of Dustin’s dresser, and Claudia decides to leave them to it then; if she hurries, she might just have enough time to box up some Christmas cookies for Steve to take with him before the boys leave.
❅❅❅
December 19th, 1985
“Baby,” Claudia says, “would you stir this, please?”
Dustin, surprisingly, doesn’t launch any complaints. Instead he abandons his book on the kitchen table and shuffles over to the stove, dutifully taking the spoon she hands him.
“Once it starts to boil, let it go for a minute and then take it off,” Claudia instructs, even though Dustin’s an old hand at sauce stirring by now.
“Okay,” Dusty says, and he doesn’t groan or roll his eyes at the unnecessary reminder, which is how Claudia knows that he’s about to start fishing for something.
She busies herself with checking on the meat in the over, and sure enough, as soon as she’s done and in the process of pulling her oven mitts off, Dustin takes a deep breath.
“So you know how we’re spending Christmas in Hawkins this year,” he says, and it’s as much of a question as it is a statement.
“Oh honey,” Claudia sighs as he trails off. “I know you’re disappointed, but the storm will make the roads too bad to drive on. But you’ll get to see your cousins again at Easter instead!”
“I don’t care about—” Dustin shakes his head. “What I mean is, it’s just gonna be the two of us, which is fine, but I thought that maybe, uh, Steve could come over too?”
“Dusty,” Claudia says, placing the mitts on the counter. “Don’t you think his parents would like him to stay home and celebrate Christmas with them? Is this something the two of you have talked about?”
Dusty’s jaw clenches and his stirring picks up in vigor. “His parents are gonna spend Christmas in New York,” he grits out.
Claudia tuts. “Well, we’re certainly not going to leave that poor boy to spend the holidays alone, now will we?”
It doesn’t escape her notice how Dustin’s shoulders fall in relief as he nods, curls bouncing with the motion. “I don’t think he knows that I know,” he explains, “but I heard him mentioning it to Robin and she invited him to her house too, but he said no.” He turns to look at her, a hopeful expression on his face. “I think he might say yes if you ask him to come here.”
Claudia smiles. “Of course, baby. Go on, give him a call.”
Dustin grins, carefully lifting the sauce pan off the stove and setting it on the counter before dashing off to the living room. Claudia watches him go, torn between a righteous anger at the nerve of some so-called parents, and the pride she feels over what a considerate and caring boy Dusty has proven himself to be.
She putters around the kitchen for a few minutes, putting away spices and wiping off the kitchen counters. At first Dustin’s voice is a soothing murmur in the background as he talks on the phone, but then his voice grows louder.
“—think I won’t put her on? ‘Cause I will. Yeah? Well, tell her yourself!”
Claudia walks into the living room just in time to have Dusty thrust the phone at her, cord violently dancing with the motion.
“Thank you, baby,” she says, and then, into the receiver; “What is this I hear about you turning down my invitation, Steve?”
“Mrs. Henderson,” Steve sputters on the other end, like he hadn’t believed Dustin would actually bring his mother into this. Claudia wonders if Steve knows the lengths her Dusty would go for him – if he knows that Dustin spent the weeks leading up to his departure for Camp Know Where worrying that Steve would forget all about him while he was gone, that he’d find new friends his own age and that things would be different when Dustin finally returned.
“I didn’t—” Steve murmurs, sounding a bit overwhelmed. “Sorry, Mrs. Henderson. I don’t want to mess up your Christmas plans.”
“Honey,” Claudia says, “there is no way you being here with us would possibly ruin anything. Now, tell me, do you like peppermint bark? I’ll make some extra.”
“Thank you.” Steve’s voice sounds thick, and he clears his throat before he speaks again. “I appreciate it, Mrs. Henderson.”
“It’s just Claudia, honey. And you’re welcome at our house at any time. I hope you know that,” Claudia says, and then, because Dustin’s practically vibrating where he’s standing next to her, never even having attempted any kind of pretense that he wasn’t trying to listen in on the conversation, she adds, “I’ll give you back to Dustin now. Take care.”
“So you’re coming, right?” Dustin demands to know as soon as the receiver’s back in his hand. “You better have bought me a present!”
“Dusty, mind your manners!” Claudia tells him, and Dustin mutters a sorry and then goes right back to needling Steve for a Christmas gift, albeit a little less forcefully.
Claudia leaves him to it and heads back into the kitchen to check on the meat again. She’ll have to remember to amend her Christmas shopping list, too, now that she’ll be cooking for three instead of two; as far as unforeseen changes in plans go, she’s not sure she can think of a more welcome one.
❅❅❅
December 21st, 1986
For Claudia, Sundays have always been a time for family. She’s not a church goer, which means that neither is Dusty, but that doesn’t stop her from trying to make Sundays feel a little bit special.
It’s a day of sleeping in and of no chores except for when Dustin helps her set the table while she cooks them a good, hearty dinner. It’s her favorite time of the week, when they settle down at the table and spend some quality time together, just the two of them – it’s a tradition that they’ve kept up since they were a family of three, before David left them, but even with the space he left behind it’s never quiet, because Dustin likes to talk and Claudia loves to listen to him.
He regales her with stories about school and his interests and his friends and Steve; he talks about Steve a lot, and somewhere along the line Claudia begins to notice a shift in the conversation – a subtle degree of separation between how Dusty speaks about Steve compared to the rest of his friends – not, it would seem, because Steve’s no longer a friend or because he’s a late addition to their little group, but rather because Dustin speaks of Steve with a kind of reverence that he’s never bothered bestowing on anyone else before.
It becomes especially obvious once Steve starts joining them for Sunday dinner after that first Christmas they’d spent together; he’d been quiet at first, but well mannered and sweet to both her and Dusty, and it had been no hardship at all for Claudia to extended an open invitation to him, especially after how Dustin had confided in her about how the Harringtons were well known for regularly taking off to God knows where and leaving their son all alone in that big house.
So Steve joins them on Sundays, occasionally at first, but soon he’s a regular, showing up just in time to help Dustin set the table and assist Claudia with whatever last minute things need doing in the kitchen. And Dusty, who’s an only child and who by now has grown used to holding Claudia’s full attention – who’ll sometimes grow jealous if she shows too much interest in any of his friends and who’ll sometimes shout to dominate the conversation and settle her focus back onto him – Dustin seems to preen when she turns her attention to Steve.
He’ll listen, rapt, to what Steve has to say, and when he does interrupt it’s to prod or poke at Steve, as if Claudia’s interest is suddenly second best. And Claudia adores Steve for it; loves the way he makes Dustin’s face light up as they bicker, as if arguing is a game that gives them both enjoyment in a way regular conversation won’t.
“Will your parents be home for Christmas this year, honey?” she asks in the brief quiet that occurs after Dusty stuffs a fork full of mashed potatoes in his mouth.
“No, ma’am,” Steve says, throwing Dustin a glance. “I think they’re, uh, going to Aruba.”
Claudia resists the urge to shake her head in disgust. “Just Claudia, dear,” she says instead, more out of habit than anything else, and the corners of Steve’s mouth twitch in a smile.
“Sorry, Mrs. H,” he replies, totally unrepentant.
“Well,” Claudia says, “I’ve told you that you’re always welcome in this house and I meant it. We’re staying in Hawkins this year as well, so you come over on Christmas Eve, and I’ll make up the couch for you, and you can spend the night.”
Steve shoots Dustin another look, and he looks so uncertain that it breaks Claudia’s heart to see. She knows they had some kind of falling out during the summer, though she still doesn’t know why. Dustin wouldn’t speak to her about it at all, but he’d look rather crestfallen at times whenever she brought Steve up, even more so once Steve started calling to excuse himself from their dinners; she’d downright interrogated him the second time he did it, an action brought on by worry over how heartbroken Dusty had seemed, and she can’t say that she’s proud how she went about it, even if it did seem to kick the two of them back into gear – Steve showed up the following Sunday, and it had been awkward even with both Dusty and Steve seemingly trying their best to pick up where they left off.
Now, months later, Claudia’s happy to see that they’re well on their way to getting back to what they once had.
“Dusty,” she quietly prompts, and Dustin finally looks up from his plate.
“Sorry,” he says, though she can’t tell if it’s meant for her or Steve. “Uh, yeah, I think that would be— good. If you came over, I mean.”
“Yeah?” Steve’s shoulders seem to droop slightly as the tension drains from him, though Claudia is quite certain Dustin doesn’t notice.
“Sure,” Dustin says, finally turning towards Steve. “You should be here with— with us. For Christmas.”
Steve just looks at him, until Dustin turns his attention back to his plate, his cheeks tinged pink.
Stubborn boys, Claudia thinks, an inkling of understanding tickling at the back of her mind.
❅❅❅
December 23rd, 1987
As upset as Dustin would get over the Harringtons’ absence during the Christmas season, he seems even more enraged by the fact that they’ve chosen Christmas of ‘87 as the year to stay in Hawkins and throw a grand Christmas party for out of state visitors.
“It’s Christmas,” he complains over breakfast, stabbing at his scrambled eggs, “and they’re making him spend it with them! They never cared before and now they suddenly want him there? He should be with us instead!”
Claudia hums, taking a sip of coffee. She’s staying quiet, letting Dustin talk and giving him an opportunity to get it off his chest before Steve arrives, because the poor boy certainly doesn’t need to hear it; Steve had been anxious enough turning down Claudia’s invitation for Christmas once his parents made it clear they expected him to attend their party on the 24th and Christmas breakfast the following day, and she doesn’t want him to feel pressured or as if the burden of choice lies on his shoulders when he doesn’t truly have a choice at all.
“It’s our first Christmas,” Dustin says, and he sounds morose now as he pokes at the eggs, having finally worn himself out.
“You’ll have more,” Claudia tells him. She fully believes it, too; she can see it in the way they look at each other. It won’t be easy, but if anyone can make it, it’ll be the two of them.
“But not this one,” Dustin mutters, letting his fork drop onto his plate as he tilts his head, as if listening for something, and a moment later Claudia can hear it too – the sound of a car pulling into the driveway.
Dustin is out of his seat in a flash, headed towards the front door, and Claudia remains where she is, smiling into her coffee as she hears the door open and the sound of Steve’s laughter brightening their morning.
“Dude, let me get my—” he’s saying, before he’s abruptly cut off.
Claudia knowingly gives them a minute or two, making sure to take her time as she finishes the last of her coffee. Once she’s done she gets up to place the cup in the kitchen sink and then makes her way into the living room where Dustin’s got Steve crowded up against the back of the recliner. They're kissing like it’s been weeks and not hours since they last saw each other, Dustin’s hands inching their way up under the jacket Steve’s still wearing.
Claudia clears her throat and Dustin break the kiss as he pulls away from Steve, only to tilt forward and bury his face in Steve’s shoulder instead, groaning as if he considers Claudia’s appearance a great inconvenience. Steve’s left alone to face her, looking flushed but happy.
“Sorry, Mrs. H,” he says, as if Dustin’s not the one keeping him pinned against the living room furniture.
“Good morning, honey,” Claudia tells him pleasantly. “Dusty, baby, please let Steve up.”
Dustin does as asked, though with obvious reluctance, and stubbornly stays close as Steve stoops to retrieve a shopping bag from the floor. He holds it out to her, looking a bit bashful, and Claudia blinks in surprise.
“I figured, since I won’t be able to make it for Christmas,” he says as she reaches out to accept the bag – it’s from one of the more expensive shops in Indianapolis, she notes.
“Oh, honey,” she says, reaching into the bag to pull out a wrapped gift, “you shouldn’t have.”
“Open it!” Dustin urges, wrapping his arms around Steve’s waist, and Steve sways with the motion, nodding when Claudia looks at him.
It’s a beautifully wrapped gift, in expensive wrapping paper, and Claudia carefully pulls away at the tape, folding tissue paper to the side to reveal a pair of high quality leather gloves. It’s real leather – she can tell straight away – lined with what feels like cashmere, and the stitching is fine and precise. They must have cost more than Claudia would ever think to spend on herself, and her first thought is to refuse the gift, but she knows that Steve would read more into that than she’d ever intend.
“Oh,” she says instead, “thank you, baby. They’re beautiful!”
Steve looks pleased at that, openly smiling at her, and Dustin knocks their shoulders together.
“Told you she’d like them,” he says, and Claudia steps forward to hug both of them, pressing kisses to each of their temples as Dustin squirms and Steve patiently lets her.
“Thank you,” she tells him again as she pulls away. “They’re lovely.”
“You’re welcome,” Steve says as Dustin starts to tug at him, “Merry Christmas, Mrs. H.”
“We’re going for a drive,” Dustin announces, pulling Steve after him towards the door, and Steve barely has time to give Claudia a wave goodbye before they’re out of the house.
“Be safe!” Claudia calls after them. “Merry Christmas, Steve!”
She knows full well that she should perhaps be wary of letting them go off on their own like this – most mothers would clutch their pearls at the very thought, she imagines – but she’s already had an in-depth talk with Dustin about how to stay safe, and it’s not like she doesn’t suspect what kind of things they get up to whenever Dustin stays the night at Steve’s house.
In the end, when it comes down to it, she trusts them – trusts that they always have and always will take care of each other – and so far, though they might be young still, they’ve never given her reason to doubt.
Claudia runs her thumb over the soft lining of the gloves before carefully placing her gift on the coffee table. Then she heads back into the kitchen to continue planning their Christmas dinner for two – hopefully, as she told Dusty, they’ll be three again next year, and for many more years to come.
❅❅❅
December 24th, 1993
It’s started to snow by the time the rental car pulls into the driveway. Its headlights sweep across the yard as it turns off the road, lighting up a flurry of snowflakes, and Claudia smiles to herself and dries her hands off on the dishtowel.
“Now you stay there,” she tells Tews, who blinks at her sleepily from where he’s sitting on the kitchen counter. He’s not as active as he used to be, poor old thing, but she knows he’ll be happy to have some company other than herself.
She hurries over to the front door, peeking out the window just in time to see the dome light in the car spring to life as Dustin cracks the driver’s-side door open. He doesn’t move to get out though, instead turning to Steve, who’s in the passenger seat, and they both seem to be laughing at something Steve said; Dustin leans across the center console and Steve meets him halfway, and they share a brief kiss that breathes familiarity and easy affection.
Claudia patiently waits as they pull apart and get out of the car, scrambling to retrieve their luggage from the trunk in the still-falling snow, before impatience gets the better of her and she hurries over to the front door, throwing it open.
“Dusty! Oh, you’re so tan!”
“Hi Mom, I’m not really,” Dustin says, climbing the few steps up to the porch and dropping his bags, bending down to wrap his arms around her. “Missed you.”
He’s so tall now – and tan from the California sunshine, no matter what he tells her – and he pulls her up onto her tiptoes as he hugs her. She clutches at the back of his coat, turning to press a kiss to his jaw – the only place she can reach – and Dusty chuckles and lets her go. He bends to pick up his bags and then steps around her and into the house, giving her room to greet Steve, who’s standing in the doorway and watching them with a smile on his face.
“Steve, honey!” Claudia exclaims, opening her arms in invitation, and Steve stoops to hug her. “Merry Christmas!”
“Hi Mom,” he whispers into her hair, and Claudia pulls back to cup his face in her hands, thumbs stroking along his cheekbones as she gets a good look at him.
“I’m happy to see that you shaved that ridiculous thing off,” she finally says, which sets Dustin off behind her.
Steve pouts good-naturedly. “It was by popular request,” he admits, and his gaze is drawn over her shoulder to Dustin, who by now is laughing so hard he’s snorting. It makes Steve grin, and the look in his eyes is so fond that it makes warmth bloom in Claudia’s chest.
Not for the first time, she finds herself thinking that she’s so happy they found each other.
“Come inside!” she says, stepping back to let Steve through the door with his bag, and Dustin reaches out to run his hand down Steve’s back as Steve bends to place his luggage next to Dustin’s.
“I’ve made up my bed for you,” Claudia says as she reaches out to brush the snow off Dusty’s shoulders and starts to unbutton his coat, ignoring the way he rolls his eyes at her mothering. “It should be large enough for both of you. I’ll be fine in Dusty’s old room.”
“You don’t have to—” Steve begins, but then experience seems to make him think the better if it. “Thank you,” he says instead, looking tired – he never did travel as well as Dustin – and he doesn’t protest when Dustin finally manages to squirm away from her and Claudia turns to Steve instead, reaching up to unwrap his scarf from around his neck.
“You know where the sheets are if you need them changed,” she tells Dustin, ignoring Steve’s startled sputtering. “And I still keep the detergent under the sink.”
“We won’t need—” Steve protests, cheeks pinking up, because it’s been years and he’s still not used to how forward she can be at times. Claudia finds it positively endearing. “I mean, we’re not going to—”
“Oh honey,” she says fondly, patting his cheek. “You’re two grown men, and it’s Christmas! I don’t mind if you have sex under my roof, as long as you don’t keep me up too late at night.”
“Dustin,” Steve whimpers, looking mortified, and Dusty laughs.
“C’mon, Mom,” he says, shrugging off his coat and throwing it across the arm of the couch. “I’ll help you with dinner. Steve can put our stuff away.”
Steve shoots him a grateful look and stoops to grab their bags before disappearing in the direction of the master bedroom, and Dustin watches him go, a soft look on his face.
“Dinner won’t be ready for at least another thirty minutes,” Claudia tells him knowingly, and Dustin smiles as she motions for him to follow her into the kitchen.
“Good,” he says as Claudia sets him to work peeling the potatoes, “because Steve’s probably already passed out on the bed.”
They pass the time talking, Dustin telling her more about California, about his internship at the robotics lab, Steve’s new-found interest in surfing, and the three room apartment they looked at last week.
By the time Steve shuffles into the kitchen to join them – looking much refreshed – they’ve moved on to the latest happenings in the lives of the extended family, and Claudia’s giving Dustin a run down of second cousin Laura’s baby shower as he barely pretends to feign interest.
“Oh!” she exclaims as Steve appears. “I’m so glad you’re up, honey! Could you help me prepare the stuffing for tomorrow? The recipe’s over there, and don’t let Dustin touch anything.”
“Sure thing,” Steve says, obviously pleased to be asked, and Dustin rolls his eyes and steps aside to make room for him at the counter.
“Now don’t be like that, you know the rules,” Claudia tells Dusty, who’s only ever approached cooking like it was chemistry. He doesn’t cook by feeling, like Claudia – or Steve, as she was pleased to discover – do, and all her attempts to teach him have failed; if Dustin’s not burning things, he’s over-seasoning, and as such he’s usually relegated to chopping things and measuring ingredients for others. She suspects that deep down it still frustrates him that he just can’t get the hang of it.
Steve’s so much better in the kitchen, though Claudia doesn’t usually like to think about why that is – poor thing left alone in that big house for weeks or months on end. It’s in the past now, even more so since the Harringtons relocated to New York and sold the house to another new money family in need of a quiet country side getaway. Claudia definitely doesn’t mind; it brings her boys into her home, has them sleeping under her roof, instead of them staying in that big house just so she won’t have to give up her bed.
“I’m so happy you’re home,” she says, wrapping her arms around them and giving them each a half hug on her way to the fridge to fetch the eggs for the corn pudding.
Steve’s already sitting at the kitchen counter when Claudia leaves the bedroom on Christmas Day morning.
He’s nursing a cup of coffee, looking sleep-rumpled in his thin T-shirt and cotton pants, hair in disarray like he’s tried to smooth it down with his hands. He blinks blearily at her when she walks into the kitchen.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” Claudia says, leaning down to press a kiss to his temple. “And Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas,” Steve mumbles, leaning into her touch, and she gives his shoulder a rub before turning away to pour herself some coffee from the machine.
“Did you sleep well? I hope the bed was big enough,” she says, adding some milk and two sugars to her cup.
“It was good. We don’t need that much space,” Steve says, cheeks pinking.
Claudia laughs as she takes a seat at the counter. “Oh, I know. Dusty’s a clinger, not a sprawler. He’s been that way since he was a toddler.”
“I don’t mind,” Steve confides, ducking his head, and Claudia smiles.
“That’s good,” she says, reaching out to pat his arm.
Dustin shuffles into the living room then, still looking half asleep. He heads straight for Steve, wrapping his arms around him from behind, and then bends to hide his face against Steve’s neck. Steve, to his credit, doesn’t seem at all surprised at Dustin’s sudden appearance.
“Good morning, Dusty,” Claudia says as Steve reaches up to run his fingers through Dustin’s curls, and Dustin hums in reply, rubbing his face against Steve’s shoulder without looking up.
Steve shoots Claudia an amused look. “I made you coffee,” he tells Dustin, who mumbles something that sounds like I love you against Steve’s shoulder.
Claudia smiles, sipping at her own coffee as she watches Steve try to coax Dustin into trying some of Steve’s, since he doesn’t seem to want to move to get his own. The lights of the Christmas tree sparkle behind them, the pile of presents gathered below the branches slightly larger than she remembers it being when she bid the boys goodnight last night – she hopes they haven’t spent too much on her this year.
A noise of disgust brings her attention back to Dustin, who’s taken a sip of Steve’s coffee and doesn’t much appreciate it, judging by the look on his face. It seems to kick-start his system though, because he sets the cup down on the counter and pulls back enough to plant an obnoxiously wet kiss on Steve’s cheek with enough force to almost send Steve toppling off his chair, and Steve ends up being the one clinging so as to not end up on the floor.
“Merry Christmas, baby!” Dustin coos just as Steve loses his battle with gravity. He ends up pulling Dustin down with him, both of them disappearing from Claudia’s view behind the kitchen counter with a loud thump.
“Hope you're happy,” Steve weakly says from somewhere on the floor, sounding winded, as if Dustin's landed right on top of him. "'Cause you just ruined Christmas."
Claudia honestly wouldn’t have it any other way.
❅❅❅