#day 10

A shitty gift that is currently resting on Eddie’s thigh, mocking him in all its badly wrapped glory while Eddie watches a light fog slowly crawl its way into the Harringtons’ beautifully manicured backyard, their friends’ laughter reaching them even through the closed door.

Dustin rolls his eyes.

“Please,” the kid scoffs. “This is Steve we’re talking about. He doesn’t give a shit about this kind of thing. Last year my mom gave him socks and he almost cried.”

A snort leaves Eddie’s mouth before he can hold it back. That’s such a Steve-y thing to do, really, Eddie can picture that scene perfectly in his mind.

He's still not gonna give Steve his gift.

“It’s complicated,” Eddie sighs. “You wouldn’t understand.”

Dustin watches him with suspicion, eyes squinting as Eddie takes the last drag out of his cigarette before putting it out and dumping the butt inside the empty beer can by his foot.

“Holy shit, the girls are right. You really like Steve.”

It’s a good thing Eddie’s done smoking because he’d probably have choked to death otherwise.

He still chokes a little, spit going down the wrong pipe and making him cough until his eyes are tingling.

“What the hell, Henderson? What you talking about?”

But Dustin doesn’t give Eddie’s distress any mind. If anything, the kid looks a little too happy as he flops down beside Eddie on the bench.

“Erica and Max kept telling me that you had a thing for Steve but I thought they were just trying to fuck with me. But they were not! You like him.”

Of course the girls noticed.

Eddie wants to be mad at Dustin, tell him to stop talking nonsense. He wants to laugh it off and say the girls were fucking with him.

Eddie does none of it. Can’t bring himself to even open his fucking mouth.

“Can’t say I saw this coming, but it kinda makes sense. You and Steve have been oddly compatible since all that Upside Down shit earlier this year. It fits, I guess.” Dustin is grinning when he faces Eddie. “Dude, you really need to give Steve this gift. He’s gonna love it, I know he will.”

It's sweet how Dustin clearly means what he’s saying. If Eddie wasn’t so busy quietly freaking out, he’d probably tear up a little.

“For the love of God, stop telling me to give Steve the gift. It’s not gonna happen!”

“Why not? Steve’s gonna love it!”

And since Eddie’s life is apparently a fucking joke, the moment these words leave Henderson’s mouth, the back door swings open and Steve Harrington himself decides to grace them with his presence.

“I’m gonna love what?” he asks. Takes him a second to catch sight of the small package Eddie’s fiddling with. His whole face lights up when he does. “Is that for me?”

Henderson, the traitor he is, just stands up and bolts back inside without offering any kind of explanation to a confused Steve.

“The hell is wrong with this kid?” Steve mutters to himself, before turning his attention back to Eddie. He smiles, clearly excited. “So, is this for me or not?”

“It’s—” Eddie starts, denial in the tip of his tongue. The expectation in Steve’s face, the boyish happiness of his smile, however, don’t let the denial out of Eddie’s mouth. He groans, tired. Rubs his eyes as he tries not to panic too much. “It is. Yes.”

Steve’s on the bench with him in a moment, fingers snatching the gift out of Eddie’s hold before he can protest.

“Can I open it?” Huge hazel eyes stare at Eddie with anticipation. “Can I open it?”

Eddie nods. He doesn’t trust his voice right now.

Despite his clear excitement, Steve is careful as he unwraps the present, pulling the tape free then the paper out until he’s holding a small rectangular white box.

He takes the lid off the box, and finally finds the yellow scarf neatly folded inside.

“Oh, I love the color,” he says, fingers tracing the soft wool.

“It was my therapist’s idea,” Eddie blurts, kicking himself internally as Steve face turns into a frown. “I mean, my occupational therapist suggested that I made something for the important people in my life. I knitted Wayne a cap, but I’ve never seen you wearing one so I thought a scarf would suit you best?” Steve doesn’t say anything, just keeps staring at the yellow scarf in his hands with this weirdly serious look. “You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to.”

When Steve finally talks, his voice is small.

“Did you really make this for me?”

The reverence with which Steve touches the scarf makes Eddie’s throat tight, but he forces out, “Yes.”

“Thank you. I love it.”

He’s so fucking beautiful Eddie’s gut feels like it’s full of butterflies. Gently, Steve closes the gift box and puts it on the bench.

“Can I give you your present now?”

“Ye—yes?”

“Then close your eyes.”

If anyone else asked him that, Eddie would tell them to fuck themselves. But it’s Steve, so Eddie does as he’s told and slips his eyes shut without hesitation.