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"This is ridiculous!" Eddie screams as loud as he can, from the bottom of the ladder. Which is pretty loud. Eddie's not exactly known for his timid demeanor. Especially when he's offended, and this really offends him.
"Yes, Eddie, I heard you the first hundred times!" Steve screams back, from the top of the ladder. Stapling another string of lights to the house.
He's been doing it for hours. Literal hours. It's cold, snow on the ground, and Eddie is fucking tired of holding the ladder, his fingers are frozen, even in his gloves. But he can't just walk off and let Steve fall to his death.
"That's enough! You're gonna kill the power to the whole neighborhood!" Eddie yells, trying anything to get him off that fucking ladder.
Steve scoffs. Eddie hears him, even from all the way up there.
"I'm not Clark Griswold!" Steve shouts back.
Eddie sighs. No, he's not. But that's what they are obviously using as an inspiration for this amount of lights. It's too much. A monstrosity, and they'll never be able to afford the electricity bill. They've been together for years, decades, and Steve still struggles with the idea that they have a budget.
It drives Eddie insane.
And about these lights? Eddie's done the math. This is going to cost thousands of dollars to run all month. Thousands of dollars.
For Christmas lights.
Eddie doesn't approve of this, not at all. He's called Wayne to complain, several times, and Wayne just grunts, not as affronted as Eddie thought he'd be. Wayne understands not wasting electricity, he's the one that followed Eddie around the trailer turning off lights, even ones Eddie was sometimes still using.
"I hear you, Scrooge," Wayne had finally said, "but, can you afford it?"
Eddie had sighed, and muttered a begrudgingly quiet, "Yes."
"Then let the boy be merry," Wayne had drawled, and Eddie had wanted to pull his hair out. He could look even more like Wayne, if he did.
There's being merry, and there's…whatever Steve is, right now.
Eddie doesn't even like Christmas, so this is a hard time of the year in their house. Steve is always acting like they are in the middle of Rockefeller Center, all giant Christmas trees and ice skating rinks. And then there's Eddie, just sitting idly by, wishing for January.
He doesn't want to drag a real tree into the house. They're a fire hazard. And Eddie doesn't want to traipse out to the tree farm, cut a damn tree down, and pick up pine needles for a month. No thanks.
So, Steve finally relented, and bought an artificial one. And then Eddie saw how much that motherfucker cost, and nearly had a goddamn stroke. It's a plastic tree. It should have been twenty dollars.
He leans his forehead against the cold metal rung of the ladder.
He's trying. It's just hard. He does the bills. He's going to be the one that has to look at those insane numbers on the electricity bill next month just for running Christmas lights that they can't even see from inside the house, and cut a check.
"Hey, Grinch ass, I need more staples!" Steve yells, and Eddie grumbles, but passes him up another box from the step. Steve puts them in the front pocket of his gray hooded sweatshirt after he's reloaded the staple gun.
"Hate, hate, hate. Double hate. LOATHE ENTIRELY!" Eddie shouts, quoting The Grinch back at him. If Steve wants to call him The Grinch, Eddie'll be the fucking Grinch.
Steve's almost forty, and he's on a ladder like he's twenty. It's stupid. He's going to get hurt.
And, do you know how much a trip to the ER costs? Eddie's pretty certain Steve doesn't.
"You're too old to be up on that ladder!" Eddie yells up at him, and Steve laughs. He laughs so hard he has to hold onto the ladder so he doesn't actually fall off of it.
"How old do you think I am, dickhead?" Steve finally asks, "I'm thirty-nine. Not ninety-three, last I checked. I can still climb a ladder."
And he can. Eddie knows that. Steve's still in shape. Still active. Steve goes to the high school gym here in town almost every weekend and plays in the old timers basketball league with other men his age, or even older. Some of them are much, much older and still running up and down the court. So, Eddie knows forty isn't old. Eddie's forty, and he can still climb a ladder. Well, he could if wanted to. He definitely doesn't want to.
"You're in the senior basketball league!" Eddie yells back, just poking at him a little bit more, just because he can.
"You got me there," Steve just says, smiling. "Give me another string of lights. If you're not too old to bend over. You're older than me, in case you've forgotten."
Eddie grumbles, he hasn't forgotten, and hands Steve another strand of lights.
So, the lights go up, one strand at a time. With Steve getting down and moving the ladder as he needs to, and then all the other decorations go out with them. It's a nightmare. He had to watch Steve and Robin make decorations for weeks. Carrying in sack after sack from the craft store.
They made giant lollipops to line the sidewalk out of foam discs that they covered in colorful cellophane. They look good, even Eddie can see that, but they were a waste of time and money, he's pretty certain.
And they're putting holes in the lawn.
Eddie tried to put his foot down when they came rolling old, used tires up towards the garage. They didn't listen to him, they never do, and he had to watch as they spray painted them green, and stacked them up in tiers until they had fake Christmas trees.
What sucks, is Eddie just knows he's going to be the one trying to dispose of the tires after Christmas is over.
It's overkill, all of it.
And now, with the lights, Eddie just has to act complacent as he's basically hearing the electric meter whirring 'round and 'round, spinning like a faulty compass, all month long.
It's torture. Pure torture.
Christmas morning is the usual tug-of-war. Steve wants to get up at six, and Eddie wants to sleep in. They don't have kids. There's no godforsaken reason for them to get up before dawn. They don't even exchange gifts. That stopped long ago, after Steve slowly realized Eddie is bad at receiving gifts, and even worse at giving them.
So, they've opted out.
Robin always brings Steve something perfect that Eddie could never compete with, anyway.
But Steve likes a big breakfast on Christmas morning, always has. It's too much food. He always tries to get Steve to cut back, but Steve doesn't listen. Steve always makes the full spread, and eventually Eddie will roll out of bed, getting a cup of coffee and eating a huge plate of food that Steve's made. Pancakes, eggs, toast, bacon, sausage, ham steak, biscuits and gravy, hash browns, all of it. It's good. It's always good.
Just too much food, more than they can eat.
Eddie's still shoveling it into his mouth when Steve pushes a box towards him.
"What's this? We don't do gifts," Eddie says around a mouthful of hashbrowns, slathered in ketchup.
"You don't do gifts," Steve corrects with a smile. "I do gifts just fine."
Steve's teasing, and Eddie softens, just a little. He's been a dickhead, all month. He's not sure why Steve puts up with him at all. They are polar opposites, sometimes. Eddie, still loud and brash, and a little rude, and those are all things Steve Harrington outgrew as a teenager.
He's kind, and thoughtful. And yes, he's fucking merry.
"I don't have anything for you," Eddie says, and he's embarrassed for the first time in a long time. Ashamed.
"I know you don't," Steve says. "I want you to have this anyway."
Eddie nods as he pulls the corner of the tape loose, and slides his thumb under it. It's a small kraft paper box, and Eddie pops off the lid, not sure what to expect.
A thick, silver band wasn't something that had crossed his mind.
He looks up, finding Steve's eyes, a question on the tip of his tongue.
And Steve grins, but he looks a little uneasy, finally saying, "If you wanna marry me, we could do that, now."
Wayne was right. Eddie's been a Scrooge. A dickhead, a fucking Grinch , all month, no, for years, and for some reason Steve still wants to marry him. He will never understand why, but you can't explain love, he supposes.
He just looks at the ring, a little stunned.
"I know you've always said," Steve continues quietly, looking down at the table, just for a second, before he looks back at Eddie, "that it didn't matter. So, I know none of this matters to you. Christmas. Marriage. All the unnecessary stuff. The things that cost good money for no good reason. I know that. But if you want to, I want to."
And Steve's chin quivers, just a little, the only thing giving him away before the first tears fill his eyes, and then fall. It's comical, that first tear. It's big, and is immediately chased by a few others. Hitting Steve's chin, and then his shirt. If it wasn't so fucking sad, it'd be funny.
"Steve, Jesus H. Christ," Eddie says, "of course I want to marry you. Yes," he says, picking the ring up out of the box and sliding it on his finger. It fits, but he knew it would. Because Steve doesn't get these things wrong. Not ever.
They've been together for years, nearly twenty of them, and somehow Steve is still unsure that Eddie's all in? That he might not want to marry him? That can't be possible. No, way. Eddie doesn't need to get married. Just like he doesn't need a whole month of Christmas, or to go to Pride, or celebrate Valentine's Day. He isn't built that way. As Wayne would say, it isn't in his nature.
But somehow, somewhere along the way, he decided that what he thought was more important than the fact that all those things are important to Steve.
It stuns him, suddenly. That this is still the case. He thought he'd grown up into a responsible adult. But, in some ways, he must still be that high school kid that was too good to go watch his friend play basketball. The one that'd rather Lucas just miss out on the end of the Hellfire campaign, than move it back a day or two.
Eddie scrubs his hand over his face.
He's really fucked this up, he realizes. For a long, long time. He'll do better, he will.
Eddie gets out of his chair, squatting next to Steve's chair and both of his knees pop and crack. It's funny, Steve laughs, and Eddie does, too.
"Don't say a word," Eddie warns, teasing him. It's clearly his karma for saying Steve was old when they were hanging lights. Now, his goddamn body has betrayed him. He had it coming, he's pretty sure.
He puts his hands on Steve's thighs, squeezing.
"I want to marry you. Of course, I do. I'm sorry if you thought that maybe I didn't," Eddie says, and he is sorry. So sorry. "I love you. So much. More than anything."
Steve smiles, gripping both his shoulders, "I wasn't questioning if you love me, Eddie. I know you love me. I was just unsure about the marriage part. I promise."
"I definitely want to marry you," Eddie says, and he means that. No, he wouldn't have thought about it on his own, probably, because he already feels married to Steve. He didn't need the damn government to finally catch up to make that true. But, yes, of course he wants to marry Steve, legally. He wants to be with him for twenty more years, and after that, forever.
As long as they've got.
"We can do something small. At the courthouse. In and out. Twenty minutes and twenty dollars," Steve promises.
Eddie shakes his head, he's not going to micromanage the cost of this thing Steve wants to do. Not this time, "We'll have the wedding you want, sweetheart. Even if it costs fifty dollars."
He's teasing, and Steve knows that, and Steve laughs as he's leaning down to kiss him. Eddie leans up to meet him, halfway this time. He's going to do that more often, try to meet him in the middle.
Later in the day, Steve is standing by the coat rack, and he says, "I'm gonna take the lights down, before it gets dark."
It's not an unusual statement. It's the compromise they've made over the years. The lights can go up, but as soon as Christmas morning is over, they gotta come down. It's ridiculous, and Eddie feels ashamed. What's a few more days? Honestly.
Eddie shakes his head, "No. Let's leave them up until after the new year."
And Steve smiles, big and bright.
That night, they stand on the curb, bundled up, watching the lights twinkle. Eddie can see the tree in the front window, and it's beautiful, too. Full, and decorated. Not like the sad, little tree he grew up with. It was probably worth the money Steve spent on it, he realizes. It looks real, especially from here.
And he's walked past it a thousand times in the house, never even really looking at it. Not seeing it. Not experiencing this beautiful thing Steve put in their house.
Steve has put a lot of beauty in Eddie's world, and Eddie regrets that he didn't take the time to notice it.
Back inside, Steve brings him a mug of hot chocolate, and it's in the silly Christmas Vacation moose mugs Steve bought a couple years ago, the ones that Eddie didn't think they needed. They have plenty of mugs, but these made Steve smile, so they bought them even after Eddie's protests. Tonight, he takes a hold of the antlers, with thanks.
They make him smile now, too. Because Steve is smiling.
That night, Eddie lays in bed, taking inventory of all the things he's given Steve grief about over the last twenty years. It's a long list, he realizes. Sure, Steve holds his own. Doesn't let Eddie steamroll him, not easily, not at all. Steve hasn't been cowed, Eddie is sure of that. Steve just decided to pick his battles, and has let the rest just roll off his back.
No Christmas presents? Sure, that's fine. No birthday cake unless he buys his own? That's fine, too. Steve always says he'll know best what kind of cake he's hungry for this year, anyway.
When Steve wanted another BMW, and Eddie said they couldn't afford one, Steve picked something else. Something cheaper. When the oven broke, Steve said he wanted double ovens, wanted the extra space, for when they had friends over.
Eddie was on board until he saw the price of them, and then he balked. Not to mention the cost of having them installed, and Steve didn't press the issue. He just picked a new middle of the road, single oven, and went on with life.
They could, though. They could have afforded it. The ovens, for sure. And probably even the BMW with a little creativity. Eddie's made sure they have money squirreled away. It's a response to his childhood, and he knows that. Steve never wanted for anything, and there were times, before Wayne, that Eddie wanted for everything.
Steve never seems to get his feathers ruffled by any of these slights, so Eddie has just kept running their finances exactly how he prefers.
But they can't take it with them, and they don't have kids.
And that suddenly knocks the wind out of Eddie.
Years ago, Steve floated the idea of a kid, of adopting, and Eddie hadn't entertained it as a real suggestion. They didn't need a kid. Couldn't afford one, anyway, and they were good, just the two of them.
He reaches over and shakes Steve awake.
Steve looks at him, half-asleep, "What? What's wrong?"
"Do you want to have a baby?" Eddie asks, slightly unhinged.
"No," Steve says, like Eddie's an idiot, "but we could practice trying to make one, if you want," Steve adds, reaching out, and patting Eddie on the thigh.
It makes Eddie laugh.
"Yeah, some practice sounds good," Eddie says.
And Steve rolls over on top of him, and Eddie forgets, just for a second, why he was worried in the first place. They're happy. He knows that, believes it. Even if they aren't always on exactly the same page.
Eddie will try to be on the same page more often. Even if it's in a book that he's unfamiliar with.
He's pretty sure Steve's too sleepy to follow through, but it's nice to feel the familiar weight of him covering his body, and Eddie just rubs Steve's bare back in soft, delicate strokes until Steve has fallen back asleep.
And Eddie is a man of his word, even if the only person he promised change to was himself. So, he does try. When Valentine's Day rolls around, Eddie brings home roses. And chocolates. And a teddy bear. It's a little bit much, but Steve laughs, and accepts it all. Giving Eddie a kiss, and nothing else, and that's more than fine with Eddie.
He's the one in the hole, here. The ledger is majorly off-balance, and that just won't do. He needs to settle up his debts.
For Pride, Eddie puts on rainbow-colored clothing of Robin's choosing, and follows Steve and Robin to the parade. He walks right beside them, his head held high. Happy, because they're happy.
When Steve comes home on his birthday, the living room is filled with black helium balloons, because while Eddie might be getting on board, it's still Steve's fortieth, and he's not about to miss this opportunity. No way in hell. There's a cake on the counter, shaped like a headstone. Eddie ordered it weeks ago. From an actual bakery, and paid for it, without complaining about the cost. Well, at least not out loud. He's complained in his head aplenty.
Steve has a grocery store cake in his hands. He hasn't realized yet that that's not gonna be necessary anymore. That's okay, Eddie will keep this up until Steve forgets there was ever a time he was responsible for buying his own birthday cake.
And when Christmas rolls around again, Eddie is up on a second ladder, hanging lights next to his husband. He's pretty sure they'll put up more than last year. He helped draft the design, drawing it on a piece of printer paper, in full color.
Steve framed it. Like it was art. Like it was important.
Maybe it is.
Eddie's done trying to tell Steve what's important. He's going to let Steve tell him for a while.
Eddie gets down to get another string of lights, and he did replace the old incandescent C9's with LED Christmas lights, in the same style. Because they use eighty percent less electricity, which is exactly what Eddie, the old Grinch that he is, likes to hear.
Just because his heart grew three sizes that day, doesn't mean he's stopped looking at the electricity bill. He's not crazy.
Sure, the new lights cost more up front, but he's learned his lesson, and just opened his wallet and pulled out his credit card, keeping his mouth shut. They'll save money in the long run, and they'll make Steve happy. That's a win-win.
And really, that's all Eddie's ever wanted. To make Steve happy. He just got a little lost along the way.
Money is important, sure.
But Steve, definitely, means a little bit more.