Archive of Our Own

“You have anything you're doing on the twenty-first?” Eddie swanned into Family Video with a roar, letting in some of the snow swirling through the air outside. The tiny flakes melted before they hit the ground, but the creeping dampness of their doorway would stain with the salt from the roads. Inevitably, Steve would be the one who’d have to shampoo the carpet the next dry evening after closing.

“Uh, what?” Steve asked. 

He was alone in the store. Becca, the new girl, was on her break. She had gone to the diner at the corner of the strip mall for some hot food on a cold day. Steve still thought of her as Robin’s replacement even if she had worked here since Robin left for college in September.

Steve was due for his break next, before the late afternoon rush started. Since a blizzard was predicted in the next few days, they’d had a steady stream of customers preparing to stay in their homes through the crap weather. More than likely, they wouldn’t lose power or face any real hardship, but no one wanted to be on the roads if they didn’t have to be. 

Eddie looked around as if to confirm Steve was talking to him and not some customer hidden in the drama section. “Yes, you, Harrington. Are you busy tomorrow night? Say all night?”

“Is this an invite to a DnD all-nighter?” Steve asked with narrow-eyed suspicion. 

Eddie had hosted one of those on Halloween, and all of Hellfire were thrilled. Everyone went on and on about how cool it would be for weeks leading up to the night. By the time Steve picked up the kids in the morning, everyone was wiped and could barely speak to each other. 

Eddie clutched at his heart as if he’d been hit by an arrow. “No, my liege! I daren’t invite you to such a lowly endeavor.” 

“You would, and you did.” Steve had been invited to the Halloween event. Eddie was adamant a one-shot as a great learning experience. Steve had a few thoughts about that. Firstly, he didn’t need to learn. He had played DnD with Scoops Troop, featuring Erica as the DM. He even enjoyed it. Secondly, he did not want to be trapped all night with a hoard of barely teenage boys who were only beginning to grasp the idea of hygiene. 

“Never again. I have learned where my tenderhearted liege’s loyalties lay: with Lady Applejack and her quests.” Eddie said. 

“Exactly,” Steve said, warming up to the invitation now that he knew it wasn’t that kind of all-nighter. He found himself kinda charmed with Eddie’s whole invitation - silly accent and all.  

After Spring Break and the months of hospitalization and recovery Eddie had suffered through, he’d come out softer than the guy Steve had met in the boathouse. Eddie wasn’t only the blowhard weirdo who walked on tables Steve remembered from high school. He wasn’t the serious, terrifying guy who held a broken glass bottle to Steve’s throat. After everything, Steve had a chance to know the kind, smart, thoughtful, and frequently bashful guy he was now. The kids still worshiped him like a terrifying God of the Dragons or some shit, but Steve liked the bright, funny weirdo he knew.

“Great," Eddie said, knocking Steve out of his thoughts. He clapped his hands, a loud sound in the empty store, and said, "You, me, my trailer on the-" He looked at his watch as if it had a calendar on it. "The twenty-first, baby." He looked at Steve for a moment. "Do you have an ID?” 

“Are you asking if I can buy liquor?" Steve guessed as Eddie nodded. "Yes," Steve said. "Yeah, I can manage to buy some liquor.” 

“Alright," Eddie said. "You and your big, bouncy trust fund,” he mimed holding up two huge breasts, “bring a beautiful bottle of your finest whiskey.” He clapped again, now in Steve’s face, “And those ginger cookies you made for Dustin and his mom last time I was over. Those were amazing.”

He knew his calendar was open this close to Christmas. His parents never returned to Hawkins after the “earthquakes” last spring. They were more than happy to pay Steve to keep their property maintained and keep the tax right off that came from the “depreciation of property values on their primary residence.” Robin had been due back tonight, but with the blizzard in the forecast, she’d opted to stay in her dorm an extra few nights and get picked up by Steve on his next day off, the twenty-third. 

“Okay, so the twenty-first, which, to clarify, is tomorrow night during the blizzard. I’m bringing liquor-”
 
“Whiskey—" Eddie interrupted Steve’s thoughts. 

"I’m bringing whiskey and ginger molasses cookies." Steve clarified.

Eddie snapped and pointed at him as he hopped and skipped backward towards the door. "That’s exactly it, baby," he said. "I’m bringing everything else.” He paused near the door. “Although, if you want, bring a movie.” 

“I can bring a movie too," Steve called out, knowing exactly what he would bring, as Eddie vanished into the parking lot. With the store empty again, he moved to the popular rentals shelf and looked around. Down and Out in Beverly Hills was popular but not so popular Steve couldn’t slide one of their copies under the desk and reserve it for their viewing pleasure the next night. He’d already seen it once, renting it on one of those sad nights when it was just him inside his big, rattling old house, eating some popcorn and drinking beer while feeling pathetic. It had been funny enough to help him out of his bad mood. 

He straight-up refused to bring The Money Pit even if everyone else in town seemed to love it. He’d watched that one on a similar night, leaving him bawling. Something about it sat wrong when he watched it. Everyone was too bitter; everything went too wrong, and it made some part in the back of his head itch in distress. Why would you want to buy a home if this is what it meant? Why would you want to start a family if this was who you were with? 

It was a quiet kind of distress, filled with thoughts Steve wouldn’t have let himself think before he met Robin. Not when he’d been trying to maintain the facade of the perfect, charming Mid-Western teenage boy, the role his parents and everyone else in his life had expected him to play. 

Meeting Robin and talking with her about what she wanted for her future had started to crack the door open for Steve. Then she went to college and immediately picked up a class that delved into what she called “queer theory.” Not that he got how queerness was theoretical, but that was probably explained in the class. During their weekly calls, Robin started sharing her new knowledge with him. 

And, from what he could tell by a few conversations, Eddie, too. But that was the way of it, as far as he could tell. Small-town queers helping each other out.

That stuff was blowing his mind. It started making him think about himself slightly differently. About a world where he could have what he wanted: a family of his own, adventure without terror, and a home he loved. But those things didn’t have to look like what he had been told they should look like or in the way the world said he had to have those things. Suddenly, his future wasn’t caught between being either a dismal failure stuck in Hawkins alone forever or following his father’s dreams for him with a job Steve would hate, a wife who would tolerate him, and hopefully, some kids he could love. 

He hadn’t told Robin yet, but he occasionally thought about Eddie and what kind of things Eddie would want in his future. 

Over the last few years, he’d realized dreaming of a future together was a sign he had a real crush on someone and not a passing fancy. Mere interest and attraction might lead to a few dates and a quick fuck. He didn’t have anything against a quick fuck either; they were fun. However, they were becoming less and less fulfilling as time went on. But something that could last, at least on his side? That had to have some vision of a future together.

He fucked it up with Nancy two years ago and again this last spring when he shared his dreams without thinking about the kind of dreams she’d want to share with him. That wasn’t the only thing that hadn’t clicked between them, but it was, as Robin said when they’d hashed it out after Spring Break, the lesson he wanted to take from the whole thing. 

He had a lot of time to think in the hospital as he stood silent guard next to Eddie’s bed or as he relieved Lucas from his self-imposed watch over Max. He thought about how if he really wanted a partner, his dreams would have to bend to meet theirs and theirs would have to bend to meet his. With Nancy, it had always been either his or her dreams. There had been no bending, no compromise. There had certainly been no sharing or entwining. 

Steve had never lost hope of finding someone who fit him like that, but since dating Nancy and their messy breakup, he had grown exhausted, keeping his hope alive.

+++

He wasn’t sure how many people would be at the trailer tonight, so he made a ton of cookies and brought two bottles of whiskey based on the same logic.

Steve had barely knocked on the door to the trailer when Eddie whipped it open. Steve’s first glance was to Eddie’s grinning and welcoming face, but his second glance was to the hundreds of candles lit inside. It probably wasn’t hundreds, but the trailer was warm and filled with gold and flickering light. He didn’t see anyone else inside, not even Wayne. 

“Uhhh,” Steve said, momentarily speechless from the dazzling display before he remembered his manners. "Thanks for having me over." 

"Come on in, come on in," Eddie said, getting out of the way and gesturing Steve inside. "Damn, Harrington," he said, eyeing the bags Steve had in his arms, "how many cookies did you bake?"

"I wasn’t sure," Steve hedged, "who else was going to be here? I didn’t want to bring too few cookies."

"Oh, did I not clarify?" Eddie said, and his face fell in a way Steve wasn’t expecting. "It’s just going to be us tonight." Steve tried to hide his grimace because he was happy to be here with Eddie alone, but he felt like he had overprepared and underprepared at the same time for whatever this was. Butterflies shot around his stomach, turning sweet anxiety into fearful nausea. 

He put the tray of cookies down and held up his bag with the bottles of whiskey. "I guess that means I brought too much whiskey, too," he said. "Two bottles is one too many for us in one night, but maybe it could be a nice Christmas gift for Wayne?" he asked, cringing at how overly eager he sounded. 

He was trying to embrace his eagerness as something neutral. It was something he appreciated in Robin and Dustin. Neither of them could play it cool for a hot second. It was still hard, though, when he could hear Tommy’s voice in his head telling him not to be such a little bitch.

"You know what," Eddie said, "Wayne would love whiskey for Christmas. He’ll appreciate that it came from you because you have way better taste than I do, and Wayne knows it." 

Steve laughed, even if there was still a knot of anxiety in his stomach. Eddie took the bottles of whiskey from him, hiding one in the cupboard and keeping one out to share. Then he gestured to the stovetop where a big pot was simmering on one of the two burners in the small kitchen. 

The trailer was a double-wide, a much better size for two grown men than what they’d had before, but the kitchen was still small and mostly utilitarian in its layout and space.

While Steve enjoyed the two ovens, the six-top burner, and the acres of counter space in his own kitchen because it allowed him to do whatever he wanted and get as messy as any recipe called for, there was something about the modest efficiency of Eddie’s kitchen that he adored. The meals he shared with Wayne and Eddie were some of the best Steve had ever eaten, even when they were simple. They were delicious and warm because they were shared with good company. 

Bubbling away on the stovetop was some sort of stew. Steve couldn’t tell what it was, but it smelled delicious, like onions, meat, herbs, and spices, as if it was made of everything warm and delicious. Eddie pulled out a cut-up loaf of bread—pre-sliced but fancier than the normal loaf that they bought from the store.

"We’re going to start tonight," Eddie said, "with dinner, and then I’m going to explain to you why everything looks the way it does, and hopefully, you’ll be down for this experience." 

Eddie leaned forward into Steve’s space. He smelled like Bay Rum cologne and cigarettes. Steve fought the urge to inhale deeply to catch a whiff of the skin scent underneath. Steve leaned away, trying to keep a respectable space between the two of them, and said, "That sounds great, Eddie."

Eddie had made a simple beef stew with lots of bread and butter and a huge glass of water next to their first glass of whiskey. They were about halfway through their bowls when Eddie said, "All right, now I guess you have no idea why you’re here."

"No idea,” Steve agreed. “I really like it so far. It’s pretty inside, and it’s warm." As if to punctuate Steve’s sentiment, the winds whipped past the trailer, shuddering the outside and wailing through the trees near the edge of the new trailer park.

"You know how my mom passed away when I was around 12," Eddie began. Steve nodded because he had heard the sad story from Dustin when Eddie was in the hospital recovering. It was back when he was awake but barely able to hold on to consciousness for more than a few minutes at a time. 

"Yeah, I’m sorry," he said, "I'm sure you still miss her every damn day."

"This," Eddie said, gesturing towards the candles, food, and cookies, "this is one of the ways I remember her every year." Steve wondered at the ghost of the woman walking through the trailer in this memorial service to her. Eddie continued, "She was a bit of a hippie—long hair well past the middle of her back. It was so long and heavy that these curls," he gestured to his own frizzy curls, "got pulled down until they were little waves. It was dark like mine, and she wore, oh, you know, the stereotypical hippie clothes —the stuff you remember from TV shows growing up, right?"

Steve could picture the bell bottoms, patches, granny square vests, and fringe. He didn’t remember it from around Hawkins but from TV shows and sometimes even the news.

Eddie continued, "I loved it. Everything she wore had a texture, and when she gave hugs, you could rub her back and feel all of these little nibbly bits. It was so calming," he paused. With the storyteller’s flair for the dramatic, he changed his tone from nostalgic to excited, like he was leading one of his campaigns. "Besides a hippie, you know what else she was?"

Steve shook his head.

Eddie leaned in close over his bowl. "She was a witch," he whispered. 

“Like, ‘I’ll get you, my pretties?’" Steve said, quoting the only witch he could think of off the top of his head. 

"No," Eddie said with a laugh, "no, more like following the rhythm of the seasons type of witch. Lots of drumming and chanting around bonfires. Hippie shit but with a Goddess involved." 

Eddie laughed again. "I remember going camping in Ohio every summer—lots of naked ladies and dudes walking around, talking about the Goddess and the God and doing little bits of magic while chanting and drumming around a big bonfire. Little kids got to participate until a certain time, and then we were all made to leave because it got very adult very quickly, trust me. I snuck out when I was 10, and I learned way too much about the birds and the bees one night," he did a little wiggle with his head, "Well, the straight people version of the birds and the bees—nothing that would actually help me." He winked at Steve as he always did when he brought up his own queerness.

"So your mom was a witch," Steve asked, still not totally understanding why she would call herself a witch. It was the kind of weird thing he would expect from someone related to Eddie, yet it was also so far from Steve’s experience he had a hard time imagining why an adult would want to play pretend that way. 

"Every year on the Solstice," Eddie said, his arms wide, gesturing to the candles lit everywhere, "She would light a million candles all over our apartment, and we would welcome back the return of the light. Tonight, I invited you over to welcome the light back with me on the night of the Winter Solstice.” 

“The return of the light?" Steve asked, "Isn’t it still dark at, like, 4:30 in the afternoon?" 

Eddie explained, "The Winter Solstice is when the North Pole is furthest away from the sun, creating the shortest day and the longest night. After tonight, the days will get longer, and the light will start returning for the summer. It takes a while, but tomorrow is that first day. Tonight, we say goodbye to the dark and welcome back the light.”

“Oh,” Steve said, though he’d gotten lost once Eddie started talking about the North Pole. He thought he understood the gist of what Eddie was saying. This was the darkest it would get, and everything after today was going to be a little brighter every day until Summer.

“I invited you here to do this family tradition with me." Steve felt himself blushing, pleased that he would be invited to the small and important-to-Eddie family tradition, no matter how weird it was. 

"Thanks, Eddie. I’m going to try not to fuck it up." 

"Harrington, just by being here, you’ve already done everything right. Wayne can't be here because he’s at work, and I didn’t want to be alone. You were here. You’re willing to stay here after you understood how deeply weird it is. I couldn’t ask for more." 

Steve reached out for Eddie’s hand lying on the table and squeezed it once, letting him know he silently supported Eddie in whatever he needed—to grieve, remember, and celebrate.

"Oh, Steve said suddenly, “the movie I brought doesn’t seem as appropriate." 

Eddie looked at the backpack Steve had packed—the movie and change of clothes for the night—and said, "I told you to bring whatever. There’s nothing you couldn’t bring that wouldn’t be appropriate.”

“Weren’t you saying this is like a sacred holiday to your dead mother?” Steve asked. 

“She’d be happy watching anything as long as we were hanging out together,” Eddie said with a pat on Steve’s hand. He let it linger for a moment before drawing his hand away. Steve missed the weight and warmth of it immediately. 

"I don’t think Down and Out in Beverly Hills is really the thing we want to watch tonight.” He hedged. 

“Is that what you brought?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah, I thought it would be a stupid, fun thing to watch." Steve shrugged. 

"No, that sounds great," Eddie said. "See, if I had asked one of the Hellfire guys, they would have brought something horror or maybe fantasy. And that would have been fun! But you, you brought something I wouldn’t have thought to watch. I guessed you might bring a rom-com or something you think that I might like that you could tolerate, like—”

“Splash,” Steve interrupted with the title of the one fantasy movie they could both agree on. 

"Exactly, like Splash," Eddie said. “Why don't you go put the movie on, and I’ll do the dishes?"

"No, it’s good. Let’s do the dishes together," Steve said. 

He liked doing the dishes at the trailer; it was soothing. Everybody always helped each other instead of letting one person fill up a dishwasher and work by themselves in the kitchen while everyone else had a good time laughing and talking in another room. 

Not that Steve minded that so much when he was hosting the kids; that was part of the point: giving them the space to be themselves. When it was him and Robin, or him and Robin and Eddie or anybody else, it always was a little sad and lonely if he was alone in the kitchen. Robin knew that and would hang out with him, even if she didn’t want to touch the dishes because she hated the feeling of dirty food and hot water mixing. “Yes, Steven, even through the gloves.” But she would keep him company; that was all Steve needed. 

In the trailer, everyone kept each other company at all times, which probably felt stifling for Wayne and Eddie. It may have been one of the reasons they both thrived on Wayne’s haphazard work schedule. But for Steve, who was lonely more often than not in his own home, he appreciated how on top of each other everyone was in this house. 

"All right," Eddie said, "but you are drying. I’m the one doing the dirty work. 

“But you cooked." Steve countered.

"Yeah, and it’s my party. I’ll do the dishes if I want to.” Eddie sang in a parody of the real song.

“I’m not going to fight that hard to do the dishes," Steve said, picking up a drying towel. He grabbed a few pots already in the drying rack and started putting them away while Eddie scraped the last bits of their dinner into the trash. 

They stood side by side, laughing and talking, while they cleaned up from dinner. “I think the kitchen looks cleaner than it did before I started.” Eddie marveled as Steve wiped down the dining room table.  

The comfortable conversation carried on past the cleanup from dinner into setting up the movie and even chatting quietly through the movie while they munched on some snacks, including the cookies. They traded sips of whiskey back and forth from the bottle, not even bothering with glasses this time.

With the drink, the warmth radiating out from the candles, the soft light surrounding them, and the movie Steve had already seen lulling him into a half-awake state, he didn't even notice he had started to fall asleep until his head slouched onto Eddie’s shoulder. Steve had curled towards the other man, who was holding still like he was afraid he would scare Steve if he breathed. 

Eddie’s hand was wrapped around the neck of a whiskey bottle that was resting in his lap at a lewd angle. Steve thought it looked like he was jacking off. He shifted in his seat as his mind flashed to the idea of Eddie doing that for real. The dome of his cockhead disappearing into his hand as he stripped his dick. It was a flash of an idea, gone as quickly as it came but left an afterimage that lingered. 

Steve made a humming noise in the back of his throat, some attempt at speech instead that came out weak and contented. 

"No worries, we’re going to stay up all night," Eddie said, "so if you need to take a nap now-" 

Steve wanted to come up with an excuse, something about being drunk or sleeping near other people helping to avoid nightmares, but the truth was, all Steve wanted to do was reach up, tilt his chin towards Eddie, and kiss him. He wanted to move the whiskey bottle out of the way and straddle Eddie’s lap. So Steve could see if he could get Eddie hard and panting. He wanted to make that flash of an image come to life. 

He must have been more out of it than he thought, though, because instead of acting on any of those impulses, he passed out. 

It wasn’t until the VCR made a thunk noise as the VHS reached the end of the tape and started to rewind that Steve woke up again. 

Eddie was passed out, too. He leaned against the back of the couch with his neck bent at a nearly ninety-degree angle. Here they were, cuddled up against each other and sleeping contentedly. 

Steve didn’t want to disturb Eddie. He took the moment to breathe him in again like he had at the beginning of the evening. This time, he was close enough to shamelessly steal a scent of the skin from Eddie—his unique warm and sharp smell. Underneath the Bay Rum and cigarettes, underneath the shampoo, underneath the zest soap—a quintessential Eddie smell that Steve craved. 

Perhaps it was the buzzy fuzz of the TV screen or the white noise from the whirring of the rewinding VCR, but something woke Eddie up. Eddie’s head jerked up first before he started to shift Steve off of him. 

Steve leaned away as if he was also just waking up. 

Eddie yawned and said, "Oh damn, I went to sleep in the middle of that too." 

Steve said, "I didn't think I was going to fall asleep, but the last thing I remember was you telling me I could go take a nap." Eddie stood up and yawned. His shirt raised above his waistband, and Steve kept his eyes decidedly on Eddie’s face.

"Must be getting old. Usually, I don't need a nap at all during this thing.” Eddie looked at his wristwatch and said, "Hey, we’ve only got a few more hours before sunrise.” He clapped and rubbed his hands together in excitement. “Now we can work on our spell so we can have it ready to go."

"Spell? we're going to do a spell," Steve asked. This was veering way out of his comfort zone. Stay up all night with Eddie surrounded by candles because his Mom used to do it with him? Sure, that sounds great. Spells? Like magical spells? That was a little harder to take.

"It was my mom’s tradition," and he said, "Better than New Year’s good luck with greens and beans any day. She’d always ask me the same questions. What do you want to grow this year? What do you want to birth with the sun?"

"Birth? With the sun?" Steve asked incredulously, not understanding. 

Eddie waved his hand. "It’s a whole myth. My mom always said it was the first myth. There was something about Joseph Campbell and the monomyth, but I’ve read that book now and I’m even more dubious about my Mom’s claims. I think it was just a myth. I’m not even sure that it’s that old. ‘Cuz it sure sounds like a water-down version of older and better-written myths." He paused to make sure Steve was still following and started pacing as if telling the story required a certain amount of energy. "The myth goes like this. Every year, the Goddess gives birth to the son of the Solstice—son, meaning, like, S-U-N and S-O-N. Get it? So she births the sun on the Solstice, and then on the other Solstice, he’s now old enough to be her consort."

"What’s a consort?” Steve asked, barely following.

“Kind of like an almost-king or like a non-ruler married to a queen. He doesn’t have any executive power, but he is her husband.” 

“Wait, wait. She marries her son?” Steve couldn’t help but make a face at the idea. 

"Well, yes," Eddie says, "but there’s only like the two of these people in the world, so it has to happen. And then he dies at the Harvest, and she gives birth to him again at the Winter Solstice."

"Okay, that makes no sense," Steve said.

"Yeah, yeah, well, it’s a metaphor. It’s a myth. It doesn’t have to make logical sense; it has to work as a metaphor for what the sun does throughout the year. So, the Goddess gives birth to a son at the Winter Solstice when the sun is a weak little baby in the sky. And when he’s at the peak of his life and energy, he gets married. That’s the Summer Solstice. He dies in the fall when the light fades, and he’s reborn in the wintertime over and over again."

Steve still didn't get it. It sounded kind of gross and incestuous. He wasn’t going to say, "Dude, this is hella gross," because it meant something to Eddie and his Mom. Plus, if he thought about it for any length of time, every time he went to church, he was supposed to be eating the body of Christ and drinking the blood of Christ. Literally, it was gross, but somehow okay. He figured maybe that was a religion thing. 

"Okay, okay, so the sun is dying and being reborn tonight," Steve said, trying to focus on the part of the story that mattered right now and not the logic of the whole thing.

"Exactly," Eddie said, "That means you can do magic to bring in things that you want to grow up like the sun is going to grow up. Get it?”

Steve nodded. That made sense.

“So what do you want to birth and then grow in the next six months? Think about it. It could be anything. Get a new guitar, a minivan for all your kids,” he winked at Steve, ”or maybe it’s more conceptual. Like finding peace now that all the Upside Down stuff is over.”

“Okay,” Steve said. He could do with finding some peace. 

“We’re going to write it down on pieces of paper. Then we're going to build a bonfire. We’ll get it going before the sun rises. And when the sun is up, we're going to celebrate. We’re going to drink more whiskey, and we're going to burn our wishes."

"And burning our wishes isn’t bad?" Steve asked.

"No, it’s more like letting them go into the air and letting the air take them wherever they need to go to become real," Eddie said. 

"Is this more metaphor?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, let’s call it a metaphor." He looked around the room before glancing back at his bedroom. "I’m just going to go find some paper," Eddie said, "and some pens. I got them somewhere in here." 

He left to go to his room. Steve got up, put the movie back in the case, and put the case back in his bag so he didn't forget it. 

He started to think about what he might want in the next year. The minivan comment, Steve knew, was yet another dig at the carting all the kids around, but he was never giving his beamer up. Not ever. The peace thing sounded nice, but Steve couldn’t believe it was all over. Not until at least one full year went by without any issues. Maybe it would be next year's wish-spell thingy.

He thought about the image he had earlier in the day of finding a person whose life he could entwine with, someone who would grow towards him. Maybe it was because Eddie had said stuff like “growth” during his monologue about the bizarre myth, but it made Steve think about entwining and intertwining. It made him think about things that grow, like plants—another metaphor. He was getting the hang of this. 

He could ask for that. He could ask for somebody who would grow toward him. A person he would want to grow toward, too. If it came true, that was great. If it didn’t, he would still have Eddie, Robin, and Dustin in his life. He still had the Party. He had a good life, full of people, and he was okay if he didn't get what he wished for, but if he got what he wished for, it would be better.

"I found them," Eddie said, holding up an array of small pieces of paper and pens in different colors. "I like to add color to the stuff because it feels appropriate, right? What are you asking for? What color with that, that kind of thing?" 

“Alright,” Steve said. At this point, he was so out of his depth that he was going with the flow of whatever Eddie said. 

Eddie sat at one end of the coffee table in their living room, and Steve sat at the other. Eddie said it was because they weren’t supposed to look at each other’s wishes. 

Steve mulled over how exactly he was going to phrase his wish- From the Goddess? He wasn’t sure exactly who they were asking. It wasn’t like he believed this was real or would work. So it probably didn’t matter that he didn’t know who he was asking to make his wish come true. 

After some consideration, he decided on this particular statement: "I wish to find somebody I want to entwine my life with." It probably wasn’t a great statement, but it felt like, if nothing else, he needed to make sure the word "entwine" was there. He’d considered adding Eddie specifically to the statement but decided against it. If it did work, Steve would always wonder if this wish had anything to do with it, which felt gross.

Steve thought about what color of paper and pen he would want. He was asking for love, which seemed like it should be pinks or reds, maybe purples, something girly that reminded him of Valentine’s Day. He almost picked out a pink square of paper from Eddie’s stack but paused. It didn’t click for him. 

He thought about his wish from a different angle. He liked the ideas of growth and entwining. Like vines. Like good vines. He quickly dismissed the image of the dark, writhing vines of the Upside Down from his head. More like the clematis that grew in his mother’s yard over an archway between the pool and her small cutting garden. He picked a green piece of paper from the pile. He also grabbed a darker green pen. That would get the idea across. 

He watched as Eddie chose a red piece of paper and a black pen. He wondered what Eddie was doing with those colors. It was probably something Corroded Coffin-related—metal and dark and powerful. 

He tapped his pen on his paper to put his focus back on his own wish. 

Eddie was still writing his, and so Steve, in a spark of creativity that didn’t feel like it came from him, decorated the outer edges of the piece of paper with two wavy lines. They looked kind of like entwining vines running back and forth across each other. He liked the way that they looked and the way that they mirrored what he wanted. He thought if this wish would come true, that was that final little bit it needed to ensure it would.

+++

Sometime just before dawn, the blizzard stopped. 

It hadn't ever really been as bad as they had predicted, as Steve expected, but it was still cold, windy, and deeply snowy for most of the night. The horizon was washed with the palest gray in the east, the winds died down, the snow stopped falling, and the outdoors were hushed and quiet. 

Steve followed Eddie outdoors, bringing what remained of the whiskey in their shared bottle. Eddie had a small basket in which he had placed their wishes. He lead them both over to a small fire pit. 

Eddie placed the basket down and opened the small shed beside their new trailer. It had a handful of hand tools, a rake, a push broom, a snow shovel, and the brand new Weber grill Steve had bought Wayne as a housewarming gift that spring. On the floor of the shed was a small stack of wood. Eddie must have bought the wood from the Big Buy in preparation for this whole thing. 

Eddie was about to toss him the shovel when he realized that Steve still had the whiskey in his hands. He huffed and said, "What good is a jock if I have to do all the shoveling of snow around here?"

"Oh, give it to me," Steve said as he settled the whiskey in the snow. 

Steve dug out the fire pit and a little path around it so they didn’t have to worry about melting snow creating a giant puddle around them. Then he uncovered the wooden benches that surrounded the bonfire, tarped there by Wayne before the winter began. It only took a few minutes, but he was breathing up a storm, the cool air threatening to freeze on the tip of his nose as condensation settled there. 

"Hey, Harrington, looking good."

As Steve stopped and stood upright, he realized he was very close to Eddie, looking directly into those soft brown eyes. Eddie was smiling back as he took the shovel from Steve's hands and tossed it onto the snow. Steve already flinching at the idea of the rust and damage this snow would do to the shovel if they didn't get it dry soon. Eddie took Steve's hands into his own and rubbed his hands over them. 

"My hands are fine, Eddie," Steve said.

"I don't know, Harrington, you look a bit cold to me." They were so close; their breath mingled, made visible in the cold and the rising light from the sunrise. Eddie took a deep, sharp breath, looked into the east, and said, "Got to get this fire started if we want to do this on time." He took a step back, and Steve immediately missed his presence. Eddie started to build the fire as Steve finished cleaning off the shovel and putting it away, then using the same towel to clean off the benches so they would be as dry as possible.

The heat from the fire didn't take long to start to dry the benches off completely. By the time they were ready to sit down, and the fire was roaring and the sun was rising, they had their own warm cocoon. 

Eddie grabbed the whiskey from the snow bank and took a swig. He spit the alcohol onto the fire, and it roared up in appreciation. 

Eddie turned to Steve and said, "See? Good fire." 

Steve laughed. 

Eddie grabbed the basket with their wishes, holding it out for Steve to grab his before he grabbed his own and tossed the basket haphazardly over his shoulder. "All right," Eddie leaned towards Steve, both of them clutching their wishes in their hands. "This is the last part of the spell," he said, "and want you to think real hard about what you want and what you’re asking for. Hold it in your hands near your heart."

Steve mimicked Eddie and did as he asked. He thought about finding a person who wanted to share their life with him. A person Steve would get to learn about and share in their life too. He thought about growing entwined with someone he could love and someone who would love him back. A basic wish he’d had as far back as he could remember. 

Eddie whispered into the stillness of the morning as the first birds started to sing in the trees surrounding the fire, "Hold the paper up to your mouth and blow on the spell like you were blowing out a birthday candle, and then when you're ready, drop it in the fire to burn."

Steve was a few beats behind Eddie to ensure he was doing it right, but he blew on his little piece of paper and tossed it in the fire, which caught almost immediately. Soon, it was no longer the green paper he had written on but black and then gray ash. Eddie took another huge swig and spit on the fire again. It whooshed up in sparks as if mimicking Eddie’s enthusiasm. By the time it had died down again, Steve could no longer see either of the papers. The ash of his square wishing paper was gone.

As the sparks flew overhead and the sun rose, Steve could almost feel his wish going out into the world, just like Eddie said it would.

Eddie passed the bottle over to Steve. He took a swig and spit on the fire for good measure, unsure if he should, but it felt right. Eddie jumped up and let out a big whoop as the fire danced high again. "You get it, Harrington, you get it!" He did a little jig, and by the time he settled down again on the bench next to Steve, he sat down closer, their thighs touching. This time, Steve took a real swig and handed the bottle back to Eddie. 

Steve, in his exhaustion and elation, found himself leaning against Eddie as he had earlier in the night during the movie. Eddie took Steve's nearest hand and wrapped his fingers in Steve's. Steve looked down at their hands. He saw a flash of the clematis vines at his house and the green paper as it flew into the fire as he realized they were entwined. 

He looked back at Eddie's face, golden in the light of the bonfire and the rising sun. His heart squeezed as he hoped he might already be getting his wish for the year. He stopped and listened. He heard the barest glimmer of bird song, the crack and pop of the fire, and a quiet hum of hope. 

He leaned towards Eddie and placed a kiss on his lips. Eddie’s eyes widened in surprise at first, and then they closed as he leaned forward to kiss Steve back.