Work Text:
Jonathan Byers: 36 Years Old
Steve Harrington: 37 Years Old
Elizabeth Harrington-Byers: 9 Years Old
The sunlight creeps through the window, hitting Steve's face. He groans in annoyance and buries his face in Jonathan's chest, hiding under the covers. His husband stirs awake as he feels a large lump collapsing on top of him. He blinks and rubs his tired eyes, yawning softly, his hand instinctively going to pat Steve's unruly mess of a hair, earning a soft, pleased sigh from the older man.
"Morning, Steve." His voice is rough and coarse, his throat dry and in need of a glass of cold water. Steve groans in response, nuzzling against Jonathan's chest. Jonathan chuckles and brushes a strand of Steve's hair behind his ear, gently caressing his husband's cheek. A small smile appears on Steve's face as he feels Jonathan's fingers on his face. He unburies his face from Jonathan's chest, looking up at his husband with a tired smile, earning a little chuckle from Jonathan, who kisses the tip of his nose in return—and Steve's smile broadens.
"Do it again." Jonathan rolls his eyes, but can't prevent a smile from appearing on his lips as Steve demands another kiss, and he complies, planting a second kiss on Steve's cheek, making him hum in contentment and return the gesture. He raises his upper body a little, wrapping his arms around Jonathan's torso, resting his chin on Jonathan's hair.
The alarm on the nightstand beeps at 09:00 am, getting the two men's attention. Steve groans. It's too early to be awake. C'mon, it's Sunday! Jonathan pats his husband's hair again, rolling his eyes at Steve's childish antics.
"Whine all you want, sweetheart. We still need to wake up." Steve groans even louder at that, trying to bury himself under the covers again, but Jonathan prevents him. "Nuh-uh, love! Don't even think about it. C'mon, I need your help making breakfast. I bet Lizzie must be hungry."
"Don't wanna!" Steve manages to hide his face under the covers, despite Jonathan's attempt. "You already made food anyway."
"Huh?" Jonathan quirks an eyebrow at that. "What do you mean, Steve? I haven't gotten out of bed—" That's when Jonathan's nose picks up a faint smell—the smell of something cooking. And it is not coming from their neighbor's house. That got Jonathan on high alert. If he didn't cook breakfast and neither did Steve, that could mean it's— "Elizabeth!"
A wave of concern washed over him, and Jonathan, being the overprotective dad he is, jumped off the bed and dashed towards the door. The idea of his 9-year-old daughter using the stove unsupervised sends a chill down his spine. Steve follows right behind Jonathan, his pace slightly sluggish. The smell gets stronger as they climb down the stairs—smells way better than that radioactive goo Steve called an omelette when he tried making breakfast for Jonathan's birthday.
Jonathan practically invades the kitchen, his brown eyes locking on the little kid by the stove.
"Baby!" He runs towards Elizabeth, scooping her up in his arms and yanking his daughter away from the stove, making Elizabeth yelp in surprise.
"Daddy—!"
"What are you doing, baby?! You can't use the stove! It's dangerous!"
Steve rolls his eyes a bit at Jonathan's overprotective demeanor, finding it the cutest thing in the world, and goes to turn off the stove. He eyes the food Elizabeth's been cooking, and damn, Steve's never seen an omelette this golden before, or pancakes so fluffly.
"I think our princess is secretly Gordon Ramsay, babe." Steve jokes, looking at Jonathan with a smirk as he holds Elizabeth close to his chest as if she were a giant cat, and the 9-year-old pouts and squirms as Jonathan tries to pry the spatula from her hand. His husband rolls his eyes and looks down at their daughter, sighing. "Baby, what were you thinking? You know you can't use the stove unsupervised. If you were hungry, you should have woken us up."
"It's not for me, Daddy! It's for you!"
"Huh?"
"Eh?"
Steve and Jonathan look at each other, their eyebrows raised, Jonathan's hold on Elizabeth loosens, and he sets the kid down, allowing her to explain. "It's for Father's Day. I wanted to make breakfast for you guys." The girl pouts a little bit because her surprise was ruined by her two drama-queen fathers, who barged into the kitchen like a SWAT team. Steve hums and grabs a pancake, taking a bite and— OH MY GOD! His eyes sparkle, and Steve feels like he's eating a fluffy cloud.
"Holy fu—"
"Language you." Jonathan chastises his husband for his foul language, and Steve smiles sheepishly in return. Jonathan sighs and gently pats his daughter's long hair, crouching down to her height. "Baby, you don't need to do that for us. You could have burned yourself."
"I was careful!" Elizabeth retorts. "Grandma taught me how to cook."
"Oh, she did, didn't she?" Jonathan can't help but smirk a little at that. Of course, Joyce has a hand in this. Steve, in between munches of pancakes, hums at Elizabeth's words. "Tastes like Joyce's cooking, alright. And yours too, Jon."
Elizabeth beams at that, looking at Steve with a big smile, seeking approval from her Daddy, "You liked it, Daddy?"
"Oh, you bet your little rear I liked it, Lizzie." Steve ruffles her hair, earning a little excited giggle from her as Jonathan rolls his eyes, not in the mood to correct Steve's language a second time. He, too, can't help but smile a little at that—seeing his husband and their daughter interacting makes his heart melt and turn into mush. He sighs and pats her hair as well. "You're too kind, Liz." Jonathan brushes her hair and gives her forehead a little kiss. "Now let's eat before your Dad eats all the pancakes."
"Oi!" Steve, mouth full of pancakes, frowns at that, munching and speaking to an almost incoherent level. "I'm not eating all the pancakes."
"Don't speak with your mouth full, honey." Jonathan gently chastises his husband, raising Steve's chin and closing his mouth. Honestly, sometimes Steve acts more childish than Elizabeth.
The little girl giggles and nods. "I didn't make coffee, Daddy. Grandma didn't teach me how. So I got chocolate milk instead."
Jonathan had to use all the strength he had inside of him so as not to coo at that. He and Steve don't deserve such an angel in their lives. "That's alright, sweetheart. It's best you stay away from caffeine for a few years. You're energetic enough."
"That's an understatement." Steve snorts as he accepts a cup of milk from the little girl, booping her nose in response and earning an adorable smile from her.
"Aw, Lizzie!" Jonathan smiles at the gift he received from his daughter. After breakfast, Elizabeth guided her dads to the living room to hand them the gifts she got with the help of her Uncles, Will and Mike. To avoid competition between her dads—and these two can get way too competitive over anything—, Elizabeth gave them identical gifts. For Jonathan, a tie with camera prints on it, and for Steve, a tie with baseball prints. Jonathan's tie is all black, discreet, like himself, while Steve's is more extravagant and flamboyant.
"I'm definitely wearing this for work tomorrow." They say in unison, wide grins on their faces as they sandwich Elizabeth in a hug, showering her with kisses, much to her delight.
"Nice tie, Officer Harrington." Hopper snorts as he walks past Steve's desk on the PD. Steve's colorful tie stands out too much from his all-blue police uniform. "You know that goes against the dress code, right? You should wear a dark blue tie."
"It was a gift from Lizzie."
Hopper takes a sip from his coffee. "Fine. I'll allow it." Steve smirks in return and is about to make some snarky remark, but Hopper speaks up again. "You're on patrol duty with Callahan today."
Steve groans dramatically and leans back in his seat, deflating. Callahan's an ass, and Hopper knows it; he just likes tormenting his sons-in-law from time to time—all the time, actually. You should have seen what he did to Mike last week.
Meanwhile, in the newspaper's editorial room, the head of the photography department, Jonathan Byers, checks on the recently developed photos, praising his coworkers and receiving praise for his "beautiful tie." Every time someone compliments his tie, Jonathan would smile like a kid on Christmas morning and say, "My daughter gave it to me!" To Jonathan and Steve, those ties are invaluable because they were gifted to them by their sweet angel, their Elizabeth.