Archive of Our Own ^beta

Steve learned to find beauty in imperfections instead. He adored how Robin sometimes rambled so much she bit her lip or her tongue in the process and then kept sticking it out to make it hurt less. He loved how Nancy sometimes laughed so hard at Robin's corny jokes that she forgot to laugh like a lady but snorted instead, making such undignified noises that it had everyone present howling with laughter. He enjoyed the annoying sassiness of the younger Wheeler, Dustin's constant but caring nagging, Lucas's stubborn nature. And most of all, his heart could burst with fondness when he saw Eddie Munson chewing on his hair, storing pens in the messy bun he sometimes pulled it into, scribbling over his arms random lyrics that had just popped into his head. This was what beauty was in Steve's world, not the constrictive perfection his parents sought.

When his boyfriend - and boy, did even thinking that word make something flutter in his chest, he sure hoped it wasn't a heart attack, but even if it was, Eddie was worth it - asked him to join the search for the perfect Christmas tree for himself and Wayne ("and you too, Steve, there's no way you're spending another Christmas Eve alone"), he really wanted to tell Eddie that any tree would be perfect because it would be for them, decorated by them, that he didn't care for the word at all. But Eddie's eyes were huge and warm, full of wonder and excitement, and Steve just bit his tongue and adjusted Eddie's scarf before heading out of the door. He tried not to think about all the times his father inspected their Christmas tree and if he found a single crack, a single imperfection on any of the ornaments, it got immediately removed and tossed into the trash. What a message did that send to young Steve Harrington.

For the better or the worse, yeah no, definitely for the better, they were here now, trying to find a...tree? Steve honestly had no idea what a perfect tree looked like, he assumed it should be green and probably not balding. That would have been enough for him. But surprise surprise, Eddie Munson, probably the messiest person on this planet Earth, could be a perfectionist. Why and to what end, Steve didn't know. They had been at it for hours already, Eddie was inspecting every single branch, measuring the tree if it would fit in the trailer, watching it from varying angles and Steve was freezing. He tried to be helpful, he really did, but he didn't understand the task and he definitely didn't understand the reason for it.

As it became darker and colder, Eddie grew more agitated. He seemed stressed, his eyes were darting among the trees and after asking Steve to choose between two nearly identical trees and Steve admitting he had no preference, Eddie snapped at him. "Really, Steve? Just pick what you like, how is that difficult? Or aren't these good enough? I'm just trying to get it right, find a perfect one, but I can't do it alone, man!"

And Steve was getting frustrated too, all too reminded of all the times when his mother pulled perfectly ironed shirts from his closet in shades so similar they could very well be the same and asked him, as if he ever had a choice anyway, which one he preferred. Maybe that comparison wasn't fair because Eddie was here, Eddie actually cared and was giving him options, but the ridiculousness of the whole situation hit him like a ton of bricks. "But why?" he asked, exasperated. He ran hand through his hair, ruining it - but perhaps not, it was full of snow and moisture anyway. "Why does it have to be perfect? And what does perfect even mean, I don't even know what we're looking for! So help me a bit here!"

Eddie just stared at him as if he grew a second head. "Why?! Because it's...it's our first Christmas, Steve. Our first Christmas together, so it needs to be perfect." When he saw Steve's blank stare, he continued, losing himself in examining yet another perfectly adequate tree. "I might not be able to do fancy stuff, but this is like, basic, you know? You just...you deserve it and more, and I want to give it to you. So excuse me if I'm going to freeze to death to find the prettiest tree for us! Because you, Steve Harrington, deserve perfection and I might be, well, me, but I'm going to do my damn best to give you that." It was looking more and more like Eddie was trying to crawl inside that tree instead of measuring its circumference.

Of course, they had talked about this already. The quick sleight of hand that Eddie performed with dirty, cracked or too used mugs, plates. The ashamed look towards every crack, every spot of peeling paint in the trailer. It might have been newer than the one they lost to Vecna, but still nothing luxurious and no matter how many times Steve told him that it was okay, that he liked their home was actually lived in, there was always this unspoken feeling of inadequacy in Eddie's actions.

Steve reached out and stopped Eddie's frantic patting of the tree, whatever it was supposed to be. "Baby. I've never...I don't want perfect. I just want you."

"Oh wow. Ouch." But Eddie's mouth corners were twitching and he finally let go of the unlucky tree. "You sure know how to make a guy feel special."

"Wait, no. I mean, I'm not taking it back because I mean it, but in a good way!" Steve was rambling now and he would feel hot with shame if there wasn't that special amused twinkle in Eddie's eyes that never felt like a judgement, only kind teasing. "Okay, it sounded shitty because to me you're perfect, but also maybe not? And that's what I like, what I love so much. I'm sick of perfection, of fancy dinners, perfectly cut and trimmed trees, shiny baubles without a single fingerprint on them. Presents wrapped so perfectly you don't even want to touch them because you'll ruin them. Do you know we used scissors to open our presents, back when my parents were still home? Tearing the paper off was too unsightly or some shit like that."

Eddie blinked and his mouth hung open, forgetting to snicker at Steve's attempt to salvage his speech about perfection. "What the fuck?"

Steve just nodded and if his smile didn't fully reach his eyes, it was only for a moment. "Right? That's where perfection gets you. It's all for appearances, no real thing under it. You can have the prettiest thing but I'm so fucking sick of feeling like I'm just a visitor in my own life. So I want something real. I want cookies that are maybe a little burnt, Christmas dinner on mismatched plates, a mistletoe that falls into my face when I kiss you because you didn't attach it properly."

Eddie gave a theatrical sigh and rolled his eyes, nudging Steve in the side through his coat. "That happened only one time and I fixed it right after, I swear to god, are you going to blame me for it forever?!"

"It has only been like a week, but yes. When Dustin decides to give us grandchildren or whatever his kids would be considered, this will be the first family story they will learn," snickered Steve. His smile grew into something more restrained, tender. "But I wouldn't trade it for the world. And if there are those stubborn bits on your ugly Christmas sweater that won't come off, and even if you bitch about it being too short or too long or too ugly which, sorry love, but it is-"

"It was on sale! And you have to admit the pattern is crazy interesting! Is it a snowman? Is it a cryptid? No one knows!"

"-shush. I'm complimenting you here, not your sweater. What I mean is - it's my kind of perfect. Anything with you is. Hell, we could throw a stone blindfolded and take whichever tree it hit and I'd think that's the best one."

Eddie leaned towards him and kissed the tip of his nose. "Way too dark for that, Stevie. Good method though." He was still joking, of course he was, it was Eddie after all and humor was his second nature. But the way he managed to tame his restless energy to listen to Steve, the way he was biting his lips and hiding his smile...maybe Steve was finally getting through to him. Maybe practice really makes perfect (there's that word again, damn it), repetition too.

"Next time then," laughed Steve. "But really, I couldn't care less what tree we bring home. It's another...temporary thing, if that makes sense? What makes me happy is how excited you are for it, but please, Eddie. Don't do this for me because you think you have to. I'm not...I'm not like this because I want to. It's because I had to be. And trust me," he said, biting his lip perhaps too hard, too deep, but there were some things he found difficult to admit even to himself, "I'd sometimes like to let go. Not shout at the kids when they dive nose first into the first muddy puddle or think about which laundry detergent would get rid of the stains because I don't want their parents yelling at them. And I know they won't because they're good people, but the thought is still there, you know? And being able to...not wash dishes immediately after dinner, not to scrub my shoes so they don't look used, it's kind of new for me, but also...I like it. It's so freeing, but it's small steps, you know. It's like you're my safe space to be more myself, more...faulty? Imperfect? Is that a word? That. Yeah, I just...with you I don't feel like I need to be so anxious all the time. So, uh...what I'm trying to say is...we can pick any tree you like?" he finished, feeling even more stupid than usual. Where did he even intend to take this speech? How did they get to this from a simple tree shopping trip?

Eddie chewed on his glove, lost in thought. And maybe it was a little bit gross and the teeth imprints on the fingers made Steve's brain do a small gymnastic number, bouncing against the walls of his cranium, but he would always manage to shush it. This is what I want, he'd tell that stubborn squishy asshole that was equally his friend and enemy, and if you don't like it, we can get Eddie new gloves when he chews through these. Compromises everywhere, with Eddie, with his own brain. "Eddie?"

Eddie shook his head, sending those pretty curls flying everywhere and stirring the setting layer of snowflakes. "We're so unpacking all of that later, Stevie. Over coffee or something. And then we're leaving the mugs in the sink for half a day. At least. What did I want to...oh. That." He finally stopped nibbling on his finger and grabbed Steve's hand instead, squeezing it. It must have been impossible to feel anything through their thick gloves, but Steve could swear he suddenly felt warmer. "So, what I'm going to tell you will sound crazy lame. Like, absolutely lame. And I know you'll claim it's adorable or some shit like that, but I'm acknowledging the lameness in advance so can kick this elephant out of the room and...yeah." He cleared his throat and maybe his face grew a little bit redder, maybe not even from the cold. "So, we normally don't get like, real Christmas trees," he admitted, watching Steve's shoes as if they were the pinnacle of the latest Hellfire campaign. "It's like, at first we couldn't really afford them, you know? It's another expense and just having Christmas with Wayne was everything I wanted. One of the guys from the plant gave him an artificial tree. Kinda small, to fit in the trailer, and it's all crooked and probably older than I am. But even when I started my...um. Side hustle. And we could afford a real tree, we kind of didn't want it anymore? Because Hubert-"

"Hubert?" interjected Steve, snorting and attempting to cover it - very poorly - as a sneeze.

Eddie waved his hand. "Yes, Hubert. The tree is old enough to have a driver's licence, Steve. Of course he has a name. I wish I could remember where we got it, but anyways, we kind of stuck with Hubert every Christmas because he's like a family. It."

"He," grinned Steve and wrapped his arms around Eddie's waist, pulling him a little closer. It was magical how well they fit together. "Don't you dare disrespect Hubert like that."

That earned him a giggle from Eddie too. "True, my humble apologies, Hubert. So anyway, I wanted to get a real tree this year because when I drove past your house in the past, it was always decorated to perfection and I just thought...I don't want you to settle for anything less, you know? So I was even ready to get some fancy baubles or whatever they call it because Hubert always wore the weirdest combination of anything and everything we could find, did you know they even sold Garfield ornaments? I got them for Wayne one year and they're so fucking ugly Stevie, it's no joke how atrocious they are, but it kind of became our thing. We'd hold competitions every year to buy the ugliest ornament possible and add it to Hubert's ever-growing medal collection. So, um..." he trailed off, pressing his lips into a thin line. "What was I saying?"

Steve stroked his cheek and laughed as several snowflakes melted into Eddie's skin. They were so going to regret just standing in the freezing night and discussing Garfield ornaments. "I believe you were just describing my perfect Christmas tree, Eddie."

Eddie shot him a disbelieving look. "You mean old, plastic, wobbly and with a flamingo topper that Wayne got as a joke one year and we never bothered replacing it?"

"Yes." He leaned in again and kissed Eddie's forehead, feeling the cool skin against his lips. "It wound be my absolute honor to meet Mr. Hubert Munson. None of these compare," he declared and waved his arm around, pointing at the perfect, even trees.

Before he could pull back, Eddie wrapped himself around Steve, like an octopus. His arms went around his back and squeezed hard enough for Steve's back to produce a mostly pleasant crunch. Eddie burst out laughing before nibbling beneath the edge of Steve's scarf, placing a small kiss on his pulse point. "Have I ever told you I love you Steve?"

Steve went for casual, shrugging and willing his racing heart and the butterflies in his stomach to take a break. "Probably, but you know my memory is shit. Care to repeat it?"

"Sneaky," smirked Eddie and then he repeated it. And again. And maybe once more for good measure.

---

When Wayne returned from his shift, he found his son (well, nephew, but the paperwork could fuck off, he and Eddie knew what they were to each other) and his boyfriend sleeping on the couch, exhausted and grasping half-unpacked boxes of Christmas ornaments. Steve was cradling the flamingo topper like a firstborn child and Eddie was wearing a tinsel crown. Wayne's heart swelled at the scene, the domesticity he never imagined Eddie having in Hawkins, but apparently he was wrong and so glad for it.

"Don't you have a bed, boy?" he asked and was treated with the glorious sight of Steve straightening up, still half-asleep, and Eddie faceplanting into the carpet, sending the tinsel crown flying. "Not the ground. Bed," he added.

"Funny. Such a funny man," mumbled Eddie into the carpet. "Glad it runs in the family. Might have thought I'm adopted otherwise. You know...because I have hair."

Wayne just gave a quiet huff of laughter and proceeded to make himself a cup of tea. Beer would have been his poison of choice, but it was cold as hell outside and he wanted to linger in the kitchenette a bit longer. His boy looked happy, so sue him. "I'm sure glad you're still sleepin', boy, otherwise I'd have to take that comment personally. You wish your head was as shiny. You okay there, Steve?"

Steve moved his unfocused gaze in Wayne's general direction. "Yessir...Wayne, I mean. Okay. Am."

Suppressing a smirk, Wayne shook his head. "Watching Star Wars again? I swear I know that weird word order from somewhere..." He stopped himself and looked around the room, narrowing his eyes. There was something missing. "Hey boys, didn't you go tree shopping or somethin'?"

Eddie had already risen from the ground and leaned against Steve's knees, the other boy mindlessly running his fingers through Eddie's ever tousled hair. "Oh. That. We tried, but...let's just say that someone was eager to meet Hubert instead. Apparently no other tree compares."

Something stirred in Wayne's chest again. He'd always known Eddie wouldn't be with him forever, that the strange little traditions they had would eventually disappear as his boy built his own life. So when Eddie suggested with poorly hidden guilt that they might have to leave Hubert in the closet this year, Wayne accepted it, as he should have. Of course things would be different now, with Eddie dating the Harrington boy.

Except the boy - no, Steve - surprised him and kept doing so. Wayne had never met a kid, rich or not, this eager to please, this kind, with such a big heart and so much to give. He tiptoed around their kitchenette to prepare breakfast for Eddie and Wayne, wasn't afraid to get himself dirty repairing stuff around the trailer, watched games with Wayne while Eddie jokingly whined in the background...Wayne had never bothered to imagine what is son-in-law or daughter-in-law would be one day, but he knew a good one when he saw them. And Steve was as good as they came.

Wiping a rogue tear - nope, more like water condensation, it was freezing outside, had he mentioned that? - he gestured towards the closet. "Well? Why is Hubert still restin' then?"

Eddie pushed himself upright and walked towards Wayne, hiding his smile behind one of those strands of hair. "I wanted to wake him up, but Steve insisted we should all be here for his resurrection. So...we were waiting for you, old man."

Well, shit. What was an old man to do with all these emotions? Wayne just reached out and grasped Eddie's shoulder, slightly shaking him. "Thoughtful. I like your boy."

Eddie chuckled and laid his hand over Wayne's. "I'm glad. But he's mine, don't get any dirty ideas!"

Before Wayne could come up with a witty response, as if he could ever beat Eddie in that, Eddie had already made his way towards the couch and knelt in front of Steve who had started slightly snoring during their conversation, sleeping upright. "Wake up, sleeping beauty," cooed Eddie and gently squeezed Steve's knee. "Time to meet Hubert."

"Hubert?!" Steve was suddenly wide awake, shooting up so fast Eddie fell back to the carpet, ass first.

"Oh wow," mused Eddie from the ground, "how come you never react to my name like that? I wish I had love like your and Hubert's."

Wayne just sipped his hot tea as Steve helped Eddie up, muttering half-hearted apologies. "Don't mind the boy, he was raised well but became a clown anyway. Now...shall we?"

Steve Harrington still hated the word perfect. The Christmas of 1986 ended up being anything but perfect in the way his parents defined the word, with the never ending fits of laughter over the Munson ugly ornament collection, the flamingo topper (after a round of arguing and lots of eggnog, the flamingo was ceremoniously named Hugo, Hubert's butler), Hubert's crooked plastic branches and cookies that might not have been decorated perfectly, with attempted Hellfire designs and sports club logos, a D20 thrown here and there, but most of them ended up being blobs of icing anyway. Despite Eddie's reassurances, the mistletoe ended up falling again, tangling in Steve's hair and resulting in Eddie shouting "THIS WAS MY PLAN ALL ALONG, NOW I GET TO KISS YOU ALL THE TIME HARRINGTON!" The turkey had to be chopped into smaller pieces because the trailer oven was too small and the mashed potatoes were somehow full of chunks.

And somehow, it was more perfect than any other Christmas Steve had ever known. With Wayne hugging Steve after unwrapping two tickets to a baseball game, the kids stopping by and filling the trailer way beyond its capacity, exchanging gifts ("tear that paper off, Steve! No scissors in this house! Not now, not ever!"), piling mugs stained by hot chocolate in the sink and avoiding them until evening, it was everything Steve ever wanted.

As they removed Hubert's medals (well, ornaments, but there was apparently some lore, Hubert was an elderly gentleman with army commendations and maybe they could get a moustache ornament next year?) and Eddie solemnly announced it is now time to lay Hubert down to his yearly rest, Steve kissed Eddie goodbye and unwillingly made his way to the Harrington household. His parents were supposed to be back that day and he felt obliged to greet them, even though they were mostly strangers to each other these days.

His mother outdid herself, she actually embraced Steve and patted his back, like a real mother would. "So glad to be home, Steven. How were your holidays?" she asked and maybe she meant it, maybe not, but Steve couldn't care less.

He looked her right in the eye and smiled, unrestrained for the first time. "They were perfect."