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Eddie wasn’t able to reach Steve Christmas morning and that made him worried and a little pissy. Then when he couldn’t get ahold of him mid-afternoon he was thoroughly pissed. Karlie and Gareth tried talking to him about how maybe he was sleeping or maybe he went out to the Byers-Hopper home, but Eddie said he had called there, too, to wish them all Merry Christmas. He’d called all the rugrat’s childhood homes to wish them and theirs a Merry Christmas and Happy New year.
Steve wasn’t at any of them.
So, as Larry was driving the band to their hotel after their second night in Chicago, Eddie sat in the far back of the van with his head in his hands between his knees. He was annoyed and worried, yes, but also he missed Steve on top of that which was making him really anxious.
Sitting up as Larry pulled into the back of the hotel, Eddie pulled the pack of cigarettes out of his leather jacket's inner pocket and retrieved his lucky lighter, one Steve got for him last Christmas, from his other pocket. Larry parked and he watched as Gareth and Jeff filed out, giving Karlie high fives as they did.
Karlie was a tall blonde from Chicago, raised in St. Louis, who looked like she should be out modeling for Vogue or perhaps molding the minds of 5-year-olds, but instead, she was their tour manager and a damn good one at that. Eddie followed Jeff out of the van when Karlie’s hand slapped to the center of his forehead and okay, shit, how is she so extremely strong?
“What gives, Karl?” Eddie looked up at her.
“This isn’t your stop.” Karlie shrugged and pushed his head back into the van which had him scrambling to make the rest of his body follow suit to not collapse.
“The fuck you mean it’s not my stop?” The cigarette fell from his lips as he curse and he scrambled to catch it in time, too.
Apparently, Karlie didn’t think she needed to answer his question because she threw something up to Larry behind the wheel. “Larry, take him to that address, please!” She sent him a sugary sweet smile and then shared it with Eddie as she turned her attention back to him.
Sometimes, Karlie really terrified Eddie.
“Merry Christmas, Eddie.” Karlie shot him a wink and petted the top of his head like he was a fucking dog and slid the door shut.
Eddie stared at the closed door, watching as Karlie walked towards the building and disappeared inside. He blinked and looked up front. “Well, Larry, if you’re going to murder me at least let me get some food first.”
Larry chuckled, shaking his head, as he merged onto the highway going north. “Sorry, Mr. Munson, no can do. I have strict instructions to take you to this address.” He looked up at the rearview mirror to look at Eddie. “No detours.” He offered a little shrug.
“For fuck’s sake,” Eddie grumbled and put the cigarette between his lips again, and lit the end. If he couldn’t eat before being murdered he might as well blacken his lungs a bit more before the big finale, he thought.
Larry turned the volume up on the radio and the fucker was playing Christmas music.
All radio’s stopped playing Christmas music when the clock struck midnight on December 25th so that meant Larry had kept Christmas tapes with him and was playing them in the tape deck as he drove.
That annoyed the fuck out of Eddie even more.
It also made him miss Steve even more because that is some shit he would do.
About an hour later Larry pulled through a wooded area, following the road signs along a well-paved road. It all looked very… commercial so that seemed to quell Eddie’s nerves a bit.
Finally, Larry pulled the van in front of a small cottage-like home that was probably less than 700 square feet and parked. There were multi-colored Christmas lights outlining just the front door and that made Eddie chuckle in bewilderment. At least his murderer had the idea to decorate.
“Out ya go, Mr. Munson. I need to go get home to the family. Macie is flying in for New Year and the wife has a mile-long list of things for me to do and I miss her so much I am actually excited to do them.” Larry was a Chicago native and so it worked out well for him to stay in the city while the tour had a few extra days off.
“Well, Larry, thank you for the ride. I could have done without all the Christmas songs, but hopefully, Steve knows how much I love him because I am about to die.” He clapped his hand on Larry’s shoulder and looked at the cottage.
Larry laughed. “You’re not going to die. Just go, get up there and knock on the door.” He gave Eddie a kind smile. “You might just find out some answers.” He shrugged nonchalantly and Eddie was going to ask him what he meant by that but Larry rolled up his window.
With his duffel bag that Karlie apparently packed for him and stowed away in the trunk on his back, Eddie made the short trek to the front door. There was snow from earlier in the day but it was so cold it looked like it had just fallen. He was glad his preferred choice of footwear was Doc Martins because this snow was no fucking joke.
He got to the front door and knocked three times. He bounced on the balls of his feet, trying to get some warmth to his bones. He could hear the VANS engine running and he chuckled softly at how kind Larry was and knocked again.
Nothing.
Eddie groaned. “Would you at least let me come in and thaw out before crazy murdering me?” He yelled throw the door and began knocking persistently.
Finally, the door swung open and he was met with Steve Harrington barefoot in one of Corroded Coffins’ tour hoodies from two albums ago, grey sweatpants, a yellow apron covered in flour, and one of his blinding, brighter than the fucking sun grin across his face.
“Steve?” Eddie barked in surprise, noticing he was holding a spatula with what looked to be cookie dough or cake batter on it. The sweet aroma of cookies hits his nostrils and he can hear the faint sound of WHAM! Christmas album playing somewhere from within the cottage. Suddenly, Eddie is totally okay with Christmas music because his Steve is here.
“I thought maybe we could celebrate Christmas even though technically it’s not Christmas anymore?” Steve stepped over the threshold to get closer to Eddie.
“Hell yeah we can, c’mere,” Eddie took his cigarette which basically was ash now, and tossed it in the snow. He pulled at Steve’s apron and wrapped his arms around his waist as Steve wrapped his arms around Eddie’s shoulders.
Eddie kissed Steve softly, running his hands up under his hoodie. Steve giggled against his mouth and ducked away. “What?” Eddie whispered.
“You’re hands are fucking ice.” Steve pressed a kiss to the tattoo behind Eddie’s ear–a simple sh inside an outline of a heart.
“Well, someone left me out on the porch knocking.” Eddie pinched Steve’s left side but held him close to him when he tried to move away, laughing loudly now.
“’m sorry,” Steve kissed along his jaw to his mouth.
“As much as I love this, you’re barefoot babe and I don’t want you losing one of your toes to frostbite.”
Steve walked backward inside, pulling Eddie with him by his guitar pick necklace. He was just smiling at Eddie and it was making Eddie weak in the fucking knees.
“What are you baking?” Eddie’s hands went out to play with Steve’s apron, the fucking yellow apron.
“Chai sugar cookies,” Steve answered before leaning back in to kiss Eddie.
“So it's cinnamon I smell.” Eddie smiled against him and
“Among a few others, yes,” Steve broke the kiss when the oven made a single beep. “Oven’s ready. Be right back.” He pressed another quick kiss to his lips and walked over to the small kitchen.
Eddie slipped out of his leather jacket, hanging it on the cute, rustic coat hanger by the door, and kicked off his boots. He looked at the decor, mostly rustic fisherman from whoever owns this cottage, and spot a few decorations from Steve’s place. A small Christmas bear El bought him a few years back, an Ewok with a Santa hat that Dustin got him next to the small framed photo of them and Nancy and Robin, wearing ugly sweaters with Santa hats on. All things small enough to fit in a carry-on. He wondered if Steve brought the lights for the door outside.
Yeah, he probably did. That was a very Steve thing to do.
“Next tour how bout you schedule it around the other holidays? I want you to myself for Christmas and New Years.” Eddie turned to see Steve walking around to sit on the couch.
“Yeah, good idea.” Eddie sighed and joined Steve on the couch.
On the couch, Eddie kicked off his boots and brought his left leg up on the couch and Steve turned to lay on his stomach. “Missed you,” Steve kissed Eddie’s chest.
“Missed you more,” Eddie whispered, playing with Steve’s hair.
“Mmmm, not possible.” Steve shook his head and pulled himself up closer to Eddie’s face as Eddie sunk lower on the couch.
“How bout we say we both missed each other equally, a fuckton?” Eddie cupped the side of Steve’s face.
Steve rolled his eyes and Eddie pinched his earlobe. “Okay, fine,” Steve leaned down to kiss Eddie. “But I win the Best Husband Award because I surprised you with this.”
Eddie chuckled, wrapping his arms around his husband. “Okay, yeah, you win, baby.” He kissed Steve’s nose, cheeks, forehead, and chin before going back to kiss his lips deeply.
The two of them ate cookies fresh out of the oven before eating the soup that Steve had prepared before Eddie arrived. Then they lay on the couch next to the fire and made out like they were still teenagers, content with just being close to one another again. With their lips feeling a little numb, they cuddled under one of the blankets hanging on the back of the big couch.
“All I want for Christmas is this, you,” Steve whispered from where his head was laying on Eddie’s chest.
Eddie smiled, running his fingers through Steve’s hair. He kissed the top of his head. “I missed you so much, wish you could travel with me.”
“Me too,” Steve lifted his head to gaze into Eddie’s eyes. “Let’s be sure to enjoy our time together now,” He walked his fingers up Eddie’s chest. “Wait until you see the bed.” He grinned, rubbing the pad of his thumb across Eddie’s bottom lip.
Eddie had no idea how a cottage this size could fit a bedroom, but he couldn’t wait to find out. He slipped off the bed, falling on his ass, and got to his feet. “C’mon then,” He offered his hand to Steve.
“There’s even a fireplace in there, too,” Steve stood up, walking back towards the bedroom.
A few short steps and they were in the bedroom–not the coat closet like Eddie originally thought when he walked in–and the bed was enormous. Was there a size bigger than a King? “You really do win Husband of the Year, Stevie, holy shit!” He patted Steve’s chest and then ran and jumped onto the bed.
Steve looked at him, love in his eyes, as he shook his head. “You’re a mess,”
Eddie sat up, pushing his hair from his face, grinning back at him. “But I’m the mess that you wanted,”
Steve climbed up on the bed, kneeling in front of the metalhead, reaching to touch his face. “Yeah, yeah you are.” He leaned in and kissed him again. “You’re mine.”
Eddie wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist and hooked his left leg around him. “I am yours, you are mine.” He nuzzled his nose against Steve’s cheek. “And I love you,”
Steve pressed his forehead against Eddie’s. “I love you,” He kissed his lips. “Merry Christmas, Eds.”
“Merry Christmas, Stevie.” He kissed Steve’s nose.