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The cottage is warm. It's a cold evening outside, dark and wintry but inside the lamps cast a glow that makes everything appear cozy even without their fuzzy slippers, sweaters and crackling fire in the living room.
The fire Eddie is under strict instructions not to go near that evening. Steve doesn't want to add a trip to the ER to their pre-Christmas plans.
Speaking of-
CRASH
Shit.
"You okay, tiger?" Steve asks, walking back into the living room, box of decorations in hand at the sound.
"M okay," He insists, sitting on the floor tangled in an obscene number of Christmas tree lights.
Steve fights laugher and sets his box down, crouching to begin winding lights off Eddie.
"How did you manage this, bud?"
Eddie shrugs, grinning. Steve doesn't push. When he's like this, carefree, regressed, he doesn't always talk much. That doesn't mean he's quiet, far from it, the kid makes a lot of noise. Clicking his fingers, his tongue, popping his mouth, humming, making instruments out of random objects.
Steve loves him. So much. All of him. Grown, regressed, every minute he gets to spend with this man is a privilege.
Free of lights at last, Eddie helps Steve carefully wind them around their tree instead, humming as they go. It's a mishmash of different melodies from Christmas songs and Steve joins in when he recognises one. This always makes Eddie smile wider and bounce on his heals a little, but he'll switch the song up soon after like a challenge.
When it's time to add the ornaments Steve squeezes Eddie's hand in support. The box is full, ornaments of all colours and textures and Steve can see Eddie's eyes darting around in awe.
"You wanna pick one, Ed?" Steve prompts.
Eddie hums.
"There's lots of pretty ornaments, huh?" He continues when Eddie makes no move to reach out.
"Pretty ormamints." He agrees.
They both take a moment to look at them, lights reflecting off the colours and Eddie's wide eyes.
He reaches a hand out, then pauses and pulls it quickly back to grab onto Steve's sweater instead. There's a whine as Eddie looks at Steve, willing him to understand.
Steve kisses the side of his head and gives his hand a squeeze again.
"How about Stevie chooses one and you can choose where it goes on the tree?" Steve tries.
Eddie lights up, nodding and squeezing Steve's hand over and over. Steve chuckles and squeezes back.
"Quick, Stevie choose!!" Eddie says, voice loud and excited. Steve can't resist smooching his cheek before delving into the box.
There's a sparkly guitar, krampus, a little bunny, penguins, a skull with a Christmas hat on, a bat, a bat, and a plastic eggo amongst the classic ornaments. As well as some candy canes (most of which end up eaten), and bells (most of which end up in Eddie's hands).
They take a break to snuggle and eat some cookies they'd made with uncle Wayne the day before. Gingerbread cut into fun shapes, iced and decorated with as many sprinkles and gumdrops as Eddie could get away with.
Last time they'd made cookies, they'd made the mistake of making gingerbread men. Eddie had been delighted, decorated them all as his favourite people, and promptly sobbed his little heart out over being told to eat one.
Of course once he was no longer regressed he'd laughed about it and they'd enjoyed the cookies anyway, but Steve thinks they'll stick to shapes from now on anyway. Just in case.
"We should make spicy cookies for the rest of the Party too, Stevie!" Eddie exclaims, frosting smeared across one of his cheeks.
"Sure we can, tiger," Steve says warmly. "I'm sure they'd love that."
Eddie nods.
"They're uncle Wayne's favrets so that means they're the best."
Steve agrees of course. Uncle Wayne is Eddie's hero, big and little.
Cookies consumed, Steve cleans a less than happy Eddie off with a warm cloth but is forgiven for doing so almost immediately when he tells him it's time to put the star on the tree.
Eddie's not actually small enough that he needs picking up to reach, but Steve holds onto his waist for support. He's on his toes and reach up, tongue sticking out the side of his mouth as he concentrates on getting the star just right.
Once he's done, feet more firmly on the ground and leaning back into Steve's hold, the gold star is tilted slightly to the left.
"That's perfect," Steve smiles. "My little superstar."
They sway where they are, enamoured by the warm, colourful lights twinkling on the tree. The love and care that's gone into each decoration.
As far as first Christmases together go, Steve thinks this one is gonna be pretty damn sweet.