haplesshairpile | (no subject)

Steve kind of sucks at picking out gifts. It's not that he doesn't want to. His heart's in it, but he's just dumb. He can own that.

Still, he does his best. On Christmas Eve, he leaves a gift for Robin under their dinky little tree, sets aside the rest to be handed out later, and slips his gift for Maeve into his overnight bag. He slips out of his apartment in a red sweater and fitted jeans, black pea coat and dark blue scarf, braving the chill and slick roads to make his way over to Maeve's. He stops on the way to pick up pizza, making sure to get all of Maeve's favorites, and then stops again to get some eggnog and brandy. It isn't really the sexiest meal, but it's all good and comforting, and that's what they both need on Christmas, he thinks.

When he gets to the building, he makes his way up to Maeve's floor and thinks about how if they were living together, they'd already be together. He wouldn't have to pack an overnight bag because his stuff would already be there. They just had their two year anniversary, and Steve knows that Maeve is it for him. He's pretty sure that he'd marry her tomorrow if she'd let him, even if that means that he'll never have kids of his own.

He isn't going to give up that shred of hope that she's given him, but he knows that he'll have to be okay if it never happens. He can't put that expectation on her, can't move forward expecting her to change her mind. Maybe she will, but it's okay if she doesn't.

It isn't time to propose, not for either of them, he's pretty sure, but maybe there's something else they could do, some smaller step to take. Maybe Steve will finally work up the courage to ask.

He makes it to her door almost in autopilot, lost in his thoughts, and he shakes it off before shifting the pizza boxes to one arm so he can knock on the door. "Santa's here to come down your chimney!"

The door across the hall opens and a family exits, dressed in church clothes and all ready for mass, and the mother glares deeply at Steve, who turns to grimace awkwardly at her. "Sorry, Mrs. Foster."

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"You're welcome," he says with a dopish grin, relieved by the reaction, which also makes him a little more confident about what he wants to ask her. A small part of him is worried it will be like the having kids fiasco all over again, but that's partly because he always seems to doubt himself on the things that really matter. In any case, he's going about it a lot better this time, not just blurting out an expectation.

"I love the bag, too. Definitely an upgrade from my knockoff Jansport," he says with a soft chuckle, kissing her forehead before pulling back to look at her. When he searches her eyes, he can see the love in them. It sounds corny, but it's true. Her face changes when she looks at him sometimes, shifting into an expression that no one else gets to see, and it makes him feel like he's on top of the world.

"There's something I wanted to ask you," he says after a moment, reaching up with his free hand to gently move a stray piece of hair out of her face and tuck it behind her ear, careful to avoid the piercings. "Something I've been thinking about."

It doesn't take a mind reader to figure out where Steve is going with this fairly quickly. They've discussed the possibility of marriage somewhere down the road and recently enough Maeve knows he has the good sense not to jump into that line of questioning too soon.

That just leaves one other option, she has to figure. He wants them to live together. Without even having to think about it for very long, she knows she wants that, too.

"Yeah?" she asks. Maybe it's dumb, making him actually ask when she's almost entirely certain she knows what's coming, but Maeve wants to hear it. That he wants this, it's something special, and she wants him to ask, she wants those words to exist out in the world.

Maeve doesn't look apprehensive, which Steve takes as a good sign, but he's still nervous. He's confident about a lot of things, but being a good boyfriend isn't really one of them. Except that isn't exactly true. Maybe he's just not confident in his ability to be someone that people continue to love. He never really has been. His parents even got sick of him, not to mention the first girl that he ever actually loved.

But Maeve keeps on sticking around, even when Steve screws up, and he's so fucking grateful.

"I just--" He's nervous and he chuckles a little, cheeks going pink as he reaches up to push his hair out of his face. After taking a fortifying breath, he makes himself meet Maeve's gaze. "When I wake up and you're there next to me, it makes me so fucking happy, and I want that feeling every day. So-- I was wondering if you'd want to move in with me? Or I could move in with you." He smiles hopefully at her and puts his hand on her knee. "Or we could find a place with big windows. I just really want to live with you."

She's smiling even before Steve entirely gets the question out, something warm filling up her chest at the sight of his pink cheeks, the way he pushes his hair back, a nervous gesture she finds charming.

But then he brings up the big windows and Maeve's heart swoops in her chest. For her, those big windows have always been a sign of moving on with her life, finding something outside of what everyone has always expected of her. That Steve remembers means so much, that he brings it up with the sincerity of this moment makes her feel as if her chest is being squeezed tight.

All she can do is nod.

Maeve looks likes she's about to cry, but she's also has a big smile on his face, so Steve takes that as a good sign. Then she nods and Steve feels like he can breathe again. It's big and scary but he's so happy that all he can do is laugh happily and throw his arms around her, practically scooping her into his lap as he hugs her tightly.

"That's a yes, right? We're gonna do this?" Steve asks in a high voice, and he thinks that maybe this is the giddy excitement that was always missing from his Christmas mornings. This is what he wanted more than anything, something so deeply personal, and he actually got it. "Oh, thank god. That was so fucking scary."

He's laughing as he says it, lifting one hand to the back of her head as he rocks them a little. She'll understand what she means-- being so vulnerable is terrifying, even with someone he trusts more than anyone else.

"That's a yes," she agrees, settling herself into the circle of Steve's arms, her head against his chest, her eyes closed so she can listen to the sound of his heartbeat. "It's a yes."

She understands what Steve means, although she can't imagine how scary it was for him to ask. Saying yes is terrifying, too. Putting herself into a position where she's potentially going to be hurt, a situation where things begin to get a little more sticky if something goes wrong, it makes her heart pound hard within her chest.

There are details they'll need to think about, logistics, their current roommates, but Maeve doesn't want to think about any of that yet. She just wants to think about this, them, the moment they're sharing.

"Holy shit," Steve says with a happy laugh, pressing a kiss to the top of Maeve's head. He knows that there's a lot to talk about, a lot of decisions to make and discussions to be had, and it all feels very adult, but he's happy. It's going to be hard, but they're going to be so happy.

"God, I love you," he says as he curls his fingers under her chin and lifts her head until he can kiss her forehead, her nose, and then her mouth, again and again. "I love you so fucking much, Maeve."

"I love you," she answers, reaching up with one hand, her fingers stroking against the edge of Steve's jaw. She's touching him as if it's the first time seeing him, the first time they've been here, looking at each other.

In a way, it does feel new. It's surprising, just how new it feels, just with this one little change.

"This will be great," she promises. She speaks with a sense of optimism she rarely feels, but she means every word.