#eddie munson wayne munson
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The Drive-In Part 19
Part 1 | Part 18 | Part 20
Taglist: @2btheanswertothequestion @cr0w-culture @panicatthediaz @rhyswritesreadsandcries @weirdspaceowl @duraffinity @thegeekcompanion @stereoteleversion @hagbaby420 @val-from-lawrence @mightbeasleep @spectrum-spectre
Eddie wakes up hazily to the sound of the telephone ringing and Wayne cursing the place to the ground.
"Hello? Yes, this is the Munson residence...EDDIE!!!!" Uncle Wayne calls out.
Eddie opens his door and looks out of it with narrowed eyes mouthing, "who is it?"
Wayne mouths back, "Steve?"
Eddie makes a cut-off motion across his throat and frowns.
"He's not here. You wanna leave a message? Ok, one second."
Wayne scrambles for a pen and paper, "Uh huh...yeah...ok...did he now? Interestin'...Well alright...Ok, I'll pass it on. Yeh. Yep. Oh, you know, not too bad, thanks. You?... I'm sure it's not that bad, is it?...yes, bye now, Steve...I won't forget...yes he'll get it...just like the other messages yeah...Steve! I will make sure he gets 'em. Goodbye!" Wayne puts down the phone.
"Eddie, for the love of my sanity, you have gotta call your friend back, ok?" Wayne gestures at the notes around the phone and underneath it on the floor.
Eddie folds his arms, "Jesus Christ. It's Monday morning! Schools out!!! What if I don't wanna speak to him?"
"Then call the boy back and tell him that!! I told him that five phone calls ago! Or we switch rooms. Your choice."
Eddie stomps back into his bedroom, grabs his bedding, and sternly walks back into the living room, dragging it across the floor before flopping onto the sofa.
"Oh, we got stubborn Eddie today, I see." Wayne pulls Eddie back to a sitting position, "Also, I ain't goin' back to sleep now, so neither are you. You're gonna sit there and tell me what the hell this kid keeps ringing my home for and why you don't wanna speak to him today, but yesterday morning you were standing right there telling me you were good enough buddies for a sleepover."
"I can't tell you, alright!!" Eddie says, trying his best not to lose his temper with the wrong person, "Even if I wanted to."
"Well then, you better call him back, or the next time that phone rings, you better answer, else I'm tearing that phone out and not buying a new one. Ya, hear me?"
"Alright! Shit! OK, I'll tell you, but you cannot tell a soul. No one! I don't like him much right now, but I don't wanna get him in trouble or hurt, you know?"
Wayne eyes Eddie curiously, "You got my word, son."
"Ok...well..." Eddie shifts uncomfortably, wraps himself up in a blanket, and clears his throat, "Well, Steve is...um..." Eddie looks everywhere except Wayne, "Remember I told you about what happened in the evening on Saturday with that guy?"
Wayne nods.
"Well, that guy and Steve are the same person," Eddie says worriedly, twisting his rings around his fingers.
"Well, I knew that," Wayne says calmly.
"Huh?" Eddie says in confusion.
"Well, how else could you have been at Steve's and at this guy's house at the same time if they weren't the same guy?" Wayne spells it out for him
Eddie opens his mouth to say something but then goes quiet again. He probably should have really thought about what he said to Wayne yesterday. Not that Wayne would tell anyone, but if Steve did like guys, that wasn't Eddie's secret to tell.
"There are two things I know you did between that conversation and now. You returned them videos, and you hung out with the Coffin boys. So what happened. You changed your mind? Don't feel the same? Are you worried about what the band thinks?" Wayne asks with genuine kindness.
Eddie sighs, "Well, of course, I'm worried about what the band thinks, but that's not why I don't wanna speak to him. When he said he hung out with Robin, I thought it was a guy. I went to the video store, and he was there, and the girl working there was called Robin, and he'd been hiding under the counter whilst I was in there, and they had the door locked before she let me in, you know?" Eddie says uncomfortably, pulling a cushion up to his chest to wrap his arms around.
"Soooo, you think he's a bit of a floozy?" Wayne asks matter-of-factly.
"Well yeah, he must have been with Robin before the drive-in, where he was with Felicity, and then he made a, albeit drunken, pass at me. He is quite well known for dating a lot" Eddie knows the dating scene for younger people might be way too fast-paced for Wayne to keep up with, but then he did live through the 60s.
"So people know he dates people at the same time, and they still date him?" Wayne asks in surprise.
"Well, no. I always assumed it was one after the other because he never got any backlash". Eddie doesn't remember Steve ever having any kind of revenge plot against him by any girl. They'd been sad about it, but he hadn't heard anyone drag his name through the dirt.
"Are you sure this Robin girl isn't just a friend?" Wayne asks very carefully, Eddie notes.
"Highly unlikely", Eddie replies quickly, shaking his head.
"Well, let's just say...for instance... that is the case...let's just say hypothetically speakin' Steve, and this Robin are just friends...is there perhaps any other reason you can think of that a guy who has no track record, to your knowledge, of liking guys, mighta been having a private conversation with his friend, maybe about Saturday night, and then the guy he might be talking about, you, turns up, and so he hides?" Wayne is talking very slowly and calmly.
Eddie knew Wayne was trying to help him see another side to a situation, but Eddie just couldn't see it. It was a girl around Steve Harrington. He'd never seen Harrington hanging out with a girl he wasn't dating, or one of his buddies wasn't dating.
"He said he didn't remember anything about that night," Eddie quickly snips.
"Did you admit that you did?" Wayne asks as gently as possible.
"Well, No.." Eddie starts to say.
"Eddie, listen to me. Remember what I said about not playing your cards too soon? This guy is playing snap at a poker table, ok?" Wayne gets up, gathers the notes tucked behind the phone and the ones spilt on the floor, and puts on his reading glasses.
"Let's see here...Oh yeah, this pile here" Wayne holds up a little stack of notes, "These ones are all the Hersey's kisses ones." Wayne clears his throat, "A small sample for you...Tell Eddie he left his kisses behind. Tell Eddie he's got a bunch of kisses waiting behind the counter. Tell Eddie I've got his pack of kisses right here." Wayne says in his best Steve impersonation and looks at Eddie over the rims of his glasses.
Eddie folds his arms and keeps a stony-faced expression. He was not going to fall for this crap.
Eddie had never had anyone use a line on him before. He had used many on others. Under any other circumstances, Eddie might have found them funny or sweet, but now they just made him angry. Why was he being so persistent? It was insulting. Like Steve was trying to tell Eddie, he thought he was dumb enough to fall for it.
"No? Ok then, the movies." Wayne sets down one little stack of notes and reads from another. "Tell Eddie Love story just got returned. Tell Eddie a new movie came in Close encounters of the Steve kind. Tell Eddie Grease got returned, you know, the one with the song, You're the one that I want in."
Wayne looks up at Eddie again, hopefully, and then sighs.
Eddie just feels even angrier. A rage is bubbling within him now.
"And honestly, I'm not willing to read them all out to ya. Steve's gonna owe me a new telephone pad and a therapy session because God love him...He can't talk in code, Eddie." Wayne shakes his head, taking off his glasses. "I'm not judging your choices here, but I sure hope he's cute enough to get away with this kinda shit," Wayne tries with a smile, but Eddie isn't laughing.
"You know what. Gimme that." Eddie says sharply and snatches a note from Wayne, and picks up the phone.
"Eddie. You're groggy and in one of your moods, ok? Think about this." Wayne says, walking after him.
"Oh! I'm in one of my moods, am I? I wonder why?!!!" Eddie says sarcastically. His eyes are aflame with anger, and Wayne takes a step back.
Eddie glances at the paper, then glares at Wayne in the eyes as he dials the number without turning to the keypad, poking at each button like he was trying to bash it into next week.
Eddie's chest is heaving in anger, and his pulse is racing. He didn't want to hear Steve's voice, he was worried he wasn't strong enough to listen to it, but at this point, he had no choice. This had to stop.
"Hello...Family Video, I guess," Steve's tired, sad voice answers over the line.
"Hello! Stop calling me!" Eddie seethes down the phone. Eddie rolls his eyes at saying Hello first. Like this clown needed any politeness! Idiot!
"Eddie?!" Steve's voice is soft and hopeful, and Eddie has to shut his eyes and clench his fists to stay mad.
"Yes, it's Eddie. Now stop calling me. I don't want to speak to you. You... you're hurting poor Robin, and...and Felicity and whoever else you are stringing along at the same time." Eddie can hear Steve trying to get a word in here and there, so he just talks louder and tries to block him out.
"Listen, calm down!" Steve eventually yells down the phone.
Wayne winces.
Fires not seen in the depths of hell ignite in Eddie as he rages, "Oh! Do not tell ME to calm down, you misogynistic pig! Fuck off!!"
Wayne rubs a hand down his face.
"I'm not with Robin! I never have been!! Eddie, listen, please..." Steve shouts back in desperation.
"STOP CALLING ME!!" Eddie screams and slams down the phone. Stalks past a slack-jawed Wayne, wraps himself up in his blankets like a human burrito, flops onto the couch and covers his head with a cushion.
"Eddie..." Wayne starts softly.
"Oh! Do not start! I swear you better not be taking his side." Eddie growls from under the cushion.
Eddie did not want to hear any more excuses. He didn't want to hear anymore, Steve. It was mainly because it was putting his heart through the chipper every time he heard him. Of course, it was better that he'd found out what Steve was really like, but he couldn't help longing for that feeling of his heart being so entirely full of someone. Even though it had only lasted a few hours.
"I'm not saying he's in the right, Eddie. I just think you could have handled that a little better, a little kinder 's all."
Eddie sits up, "JESUS H CHRIST!! You know what..." Eddie hops in his blanket wrap to his keys, then the front door, then down the steps and into his van, slamming the door.
He throws himself back across the seats and centre console and lets out a frustrated scream.
A little kinder?? What was he talking about? He has no idea how it felt standing in that shop, like someone had one inch punched him right in the solar plexus, winding him completely, his heart pounding harder than ever and then shattering into a billion pieces. And all for something Eddie couldn't wrap his head around. All over one night. It was so stupid. So stupid. He knew who Steve was. He went to school with him. He'd never felt anything except disdain and maybe a little jealousy towards him.
Everything was as confusing as hell, and Eddie just wanted things to go back to normal. This was too much. Even if things had worked out, It would be full of problems. It was already riddled with issues. And Eddie was tired. Last night with his friends, he had started to feel better, and now he felt awful and dumb again.
There is a gentle tapping at his van window. He winds it down.
"Sorry, Uncle Wayne", he says regretfully.
"That's alright, boy. Here." Wayne passes up a bowl of cereal, two different kinds in the same bowl, and Eddie smiles as he takes it.
"I didn't mean to yell at you. I wasn't mad at you," Eddie says, poking at his cereal.
"I know, son." Wayne says kindly, "Once you've calmed yourself, why dontcha come on back inside and explain your rental choices to me, please..."
Eddie drops his spoon and goes wide-eyed with embarrassment.
"I mean scarface...I see that...but I didn't think you a Travolta fan, Eddie" Eddie hears a faint chuckle of Wayne's, "Corroded Disco Ball don't have the same ring to it, does it?" Wayne's laughter gets louder, "Though Night Fever as a title sounds very...er...metal..don't it" Wayne is holding his sides, leaning forward laughing, and Eddie wants to be mad, he really does, he's blushing, and these jokes are not even funny, but Wayne let's out a "whooo" and he's bent over slapping his knee laughing, and Eddie can't help it, he starts laughing too.
"You can tell they don't know ya t'all. Telling Eddie Munson to calm down. Lord!" he's clutching his sides, hooting and laughing, "might as well throw a match in a lake o' gasoline. Jesus Christ, Eddie," Wayne is trying to catch his breath, "You sure know how to pick 'em."
Eddie rolls his eyes, and his uncle leans against the door, looking up at him, slowly calming and wiping the tears of laughter from his eyes.
"Look, If they ain't good enough, they ain't good enough. It's your call. End of. But I tell ya what, I ain't ever been head over heels enough to send badly coded love notes through someone's guardian. Not once. You know what, not even a well-coded one" Wayne blinks up at him, "Have a think about it, huh?" Wayne says, tapping Eddie's door before heading back up the stairs and making a few disco moves at the top of them before giggling and running back inside.
Eddie, an irrepressible smile on his face, dumps his cereal bowl on the passenger seat and chases Wayne indoors, yelling, "Get back here, you little shit!!"
#eddie munson#eddiemunson#eddie stranger things#eddie munson fanfic#fanfiction#eddie munson fluff#stranger things#stranger things fanfiction#steveharrington#steve harrington#steve harrington x eddie munson#Steddie#steve harrington fanfic#steddie fanfic#wayne munson#waynemunson#eddie munson wayne munson#eddie and wayne munson#eddie and uncle wayne#madaboutmunson#madaboutmunsondrivein#the drive-in
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pls write the fics for mechanic Eddie and truck driver Wayne i miss my boys 😭
-eddiemfmunsonsgirl
ps asking on anon bc it's a side blog 💀
@eddiemfmunsonsgirl I'm about to enter the mind palace a create the headcanons!!
Mechanic!Eddie VS Truck Driver!Wayne
✨ some headcanons ✨
♧ Wayne's done this job for years! dude fell involve with the freedom of driving and got married to it
♧ because he'd on the road so much, he obvi needs to know a degree of mechanics incasssee anything breaks
♧ also on the road means he doesn't get to see his family a lot so he brings Eddie home a memorabilia from every stop
♧ yes im thinking post cards / fridge magnets
♧ Wayne keeps the hats for himself
♧ when Eddie visited Wayne he'd always steal a hat
♧ Wayne is a maaaasssive inspiration in eddies life
♧ as a kid, going to see uncle Wayne was like winning the lottery! Oh uncle Wayne is coming? WE AINT EVER SEEN KID EDDIE SO HAPPY
♧ Eddie would see Wayne the longest over Christmas and he'd just sit, eyes pealed, chin in hands, mesmerised by Waynes trust stories
♧ can't convince me that Wayne didn't instantly turn to mush whenever Eddie would ask for a story
♧ so naturallllyyyyy when Eddie starting Eddie old enough his interests went to cars / vans / trucks
♧ ohmygod when Eddie first got wind of having to live with Wayne he thought he could ditch school and go on truck hauls with him!!!!!
♧ stop bc when Wayne explained he still needed to go to school, Eddie lowkey cried
♧ Waynes truck friends: when they retired driving to go off and have families, to keep their livelihoods and friendships they all opened a garage together! QUEUE: thatcher tire!
♧ Wayne woulda loved to be a part of it but he had a nutty little add ridden metal head to look after
♧ wayne practically taught Eddie to drive - CHANGE MY DAMN MIND I DARE ANY OF YOU
♧ when Eddie started living with Wayne, Wayne had a 6 month period where he was tryna change his job so he'd have to leave Eddie alone
♧ he purposefully took 3 day maximum long hauls
♧ he would give Eddie a stern but loving chat about rules and expectations for when he was gone
♧ Eddie, ALWAYS, with out a doubt, basically ran up to and hugged the life outta Wayne when he come back
♧ as he's grown up, this has morphed into a living "Welcome back old man!" and a shoulder squeeze
#asks make my heart giggle#thank you love!!!#this was sm fun!!!!!!!!#stranger things#stranger things 4#Eddie munson#stranger things Eddie munson#Eddie Munson headcanons#Eddie and Wayne#Eddie Munson Wayne munson#Wayne munson#joesph quinn#Eddie Munson fanfic#mechanic!eddie#mechanic!Eddie munson#Wayne munson st4#truck driver!wayne#Eddie Munson fluff
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We need mean!reader, angry!reader, misunderstood!reader, creepy!reader, gross!reader, toxic!reader, nonforgiving!reader, selfish!reader, narcissistic!reader, dark!reader, FEDUP!reader. That bitch is way too nice, passive, and sensible. ✋🏾😂
#where my crazy writers at!!!!#please I need a break from a nice reader w the perfect relationship. I’m tired on pretending I’m not crazy#cillian murphy x reader#eddie munson x reader#mike schmidt x reader#bruce wayne x reader#stu macher x reader#top gun imagine#tommy shelby x reader#tlou imagine#imagine#Peter Parker x reader#rafe cameron x reader#john b x reader#aaron taylor johnson x reader#simon riley x reader#edward nashton x reader#bradley bradsaw x reader#rhett abbott x reader
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They deserved a happy ending
#my art#eddie munson#wayne munson#stranger things#stranger things fanart#good uncle wayne#I’ve been feeling bummed lately#so my coping strategy is to draw imaginary hugs lol
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ALRIGHT BUT
I’ve been having flustered Steve thoughts.
The Party has NEVER seen Steve flustered. Steve’s always the one flirting and no one ever flirts back anymore so Steve’s never actually flustered.
But then Eddie Munson comes slithering along and he flirts with everyone just cause he can but nobody’s flustered by his attempts because he’s not trying to actually fluster them.
But for some reason he really flusters Steve.
Eddie uses this to his advantage and actually puts forth effort when he flirts with Steve.
Steve is flustered, bashful, embarrassed. He’s twirling his hair and giggling and he does this thing where he taps his fingernails on his front teeth when he gets distracted.
The Party was NEVER seen Steve like this.
Not even Nancy when they were dating.
Steve has described what he was like when he was flustered to them, calling himself stupid and saying he acted like an idiot to try and get them to just lay off.
All anyone sees is an absolute sweetheart.
Steve blushes really bright, starting with his ears and it just travels down from there. And also he’s really bad at hiding his smiles and he smiles so BIG when Eddie flirts with him. Like you can see every tooth and his eyes crinkle so much they basically close and his nose scrunches up.
And Eddie fucking THRIVES in it.
Because NO ONE else gets Steve like that.
Eddie’s witnessed Steve flirting with the girls of Hawkins. Has seen them all flirt back with varying degrees of bluntness.
None of them have gotten Steve nearly half as flustered as Eddie has.
UNTIL.
Eddie has Steve come over to the trailer to hang out. Steve by some turn of events ends up cooking and making grilled cheese and tomato soup.
Wayne comes home right as Steve is playing everything and Steve is DISTRAUGHT. Like “no Wayne it’s alright, really. I can make you some to it’s ok I like cooking you’re really doing me a favor.”
So Steve makes Wayne a grilled cheese to and refuses to let Eddie eat until they can eat together.
So they’re all sitting and then they start eating. And obviously it was a damn good grilled cheese— Eddie knew Steve could cook but good GOD.
And then Wayne puts his grilled cheese down, looks between Steve and Eddie, and tells Eddie “If you don’t marry ‘im I’m adoptin ‘im.”
And Steve BEAMS.
It’s that same smile he gets when Eddie flirts with him and Eddie is only somewhat livid.
Cause he totally gets the rush of having Wayne compliment you for the first time. He’s just such an honest man.
And it goes from there that the only people who can fluster Steve are Eddie and Wayne (Eddie romantically and Wayne platonic-fatherly).
They both go out of their way to compliment him constantly just to see him smile like that :)))
Aaahhhhh this makes me so happy!!!!
#steve harrington headcanon#stranger things#eddie munson#steve harrington#the party#wayne munson#steddie#steddie thoughts#steddie idea#steve harrington is a sweetheart#steve harrington gets flustered easily#but only when it’s the munson men#wayne munson adopting steve harrington#the party goes through a phase where they all continuously compliment him and flirt with him#just to try and fluster him#the closest anyone gets is mike#cause mike doesn’t compliment people often but when he does he’s surprisingly genuine#the most he gets is a blush at the top of steve’s cheeks#eddie is very proud of the smiles he produces from steve#but he’s kinda sad no one can see what steve looks like when things get less… pg#but that’s strictly for eddie#might make a part two to this with a different version#I’ve run out of things to tag
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Eddie talks about his mom’s Tennessee side of the family like, “yeah my peepaw could play the banjo and my great grand pappy was real good with a fiddle” and Steve’s like “your Who and What”
Eddie: I have to take you to visit, you’re gonna love meemaw’s fried chicken gizzards
Steve: no I don’t think I will
Also I can't decide if southern grandmas would fawn over Steve and pamper him, or if they’d see his Arms and immediately put him to work in the kitchen kneading dough and rolling pie crusts, while he soaks up the best small town gossip. Eddie’s supposed to be helping but he only sits on the counter Watching until he gets swatted back to work with a dish towel
#something something#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie headcanons#eddie munson headcanons#i don't hc that eddie's actually close to his family besides wayne but#these were tweets first can you tell#mp
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They're sitting in Eddie's bedroom, Steve propped up in the bed, flipping through some sports magazine, Eddie curled on the floor using his knee as a table as he scrawls notes for Hellfire's next campaign. Metallica spins on the record player, volume low. They're doing this more and more, being together and doing their own thing, music a soft backdrop to it all.
Eddie's deep into his planning, enough so that he manages to forget that Steve Harrington is in his bed. He keeps hearing something, though. It just manages to catch at the edge of his awareness, but when he fully tunes in the only sounds are Steve flipping a page, Ride the Lightning, the shift of blankets as Harrington taps his fingers. It happens a few more times, but when he tries to catch it, it's gone. Steve hasn't reacted at all, to the point Eddie wonders if it's all in his own head.
The next time, he's interrupted before he even gets back into it, that noise again, but this time, now, he's aware enough to see that it's Steve. And he's not, like, reading the magazine out loud to himself. No. He's singing along.
To Metallica.
And he wasn't idly tapping his fingers before. He was tapping along to the beat.
"You're singing along?" He asks before he can stop himself.
Steve looks up, a faint smile on his handsome face. "It's not too bad."
"Not too--Not too bad." Eddie's nearly screeching. Can't wrap his mind around Steve--"You've been listening to Metallica on your own? You've been--you--" He jumps to his feet, notebook spilling onto the floor. Steve's just looking up at him with big eyes and a gentle grin.
"Sure, Munson. You like it, yeah?"
He nods, mutely, unsure how he so thoroughly lost the plot that Steve's been listening to Metallica just because Eddie likes it.
"Got a taste for any other metal bands I should know about, Harrington?" He flops down on the bed, making Steve bounce a little.
"Well, Dio's pretty okay."
This time Eddie does really, actually shriek.
---
Eddie swans into the kitchen to greet Steve, who's already lounging on the couch with a beer. There's another one on the coffee table, waiting for Eddie.
"Just helped yourself, Harrington?" He teases.
Steve shoots him a look. "Wayne grabbed them before he left. What the hell took you so long?"
He can't say it's because he wanted to look nice with Steve coming over, even if they are just getting high and watching movies. Of course taming his hair took so long that he didn't have time to find a shirt, and Steve's knock at the door had him grabbing the first thing he could and jamming it over his head.
"You want chips?" He asks.
"Wait--Eddie--" Steve stands, pointing at Eddie's chest.
"What?"
"That's my--oh my god, I've been looking for that."
And, well, he had thought it was a little strange that the t-shirt he grabbed was gray. He pulls at the fabric, stares at the upside down Hawkins Tiger with a basketball in its mouth.
"It's my favorite sleep shirt. I thought Robin took it and you--"
Eddie's face heats. Steve's shirt. Of course. Steve stayed over one movie night, forgot the shirt, and Eddie. Well. He was going to give it back, but--
"Here, man, my bad." He goes to pull the hem over his head. "I didn't know it was your favorite."
"Nah," Steve says. He's sitting back on the couch. "You should keep it. You look really--" he pauses and takes a sip of beer. "It's nice on you, Munson."
He's sure his blush is a horrendous thing to witness, has to fight the urge to hide in his hands. "Right. Uh. Chips!" He whirls towards the cabinets, refusing to think about the matching pink stripes across Steve's cheeks.
---
"C'mon, Munson, you're hogging the covers." Steve's sleepy mumble cuts through the dawn quiet.
"Mmph," Eddie groans. Rubs the soles of his feet against Steve's shins.
"You're a dick," Steve grumbles. He shimmies closer, which is what finally does the job at fully waking Eddie.
"Wha--huh?" He blinks.
"You stole the blankets, man. If you're not going to share, the least you can do is cuddle."
"Uhh." Eddie is sure he's dreaming, but Steve's warm, strong arm slips around his waist, pulls them together.
Eddie doesn't know what to do. Where he should put his body. Does he relax into it? What do his arms do? They're not usually this rigid, right? But what do they do when he's sleeping? Somewhere in his gay panic, he has the presence of mind to grab the edge of the blanket and throw it over his friend.
"Better?" He asks. His voice is all wrong but maybe Steve will attribute it to tiredness.
"Mmm." Steve's grip tightens around his waist, his nose nuzzling against the nape of Eddie's neck. His breathing is already slow and deep.
Eddie can't imagine sleep finding him anytime soon. Not when Steve, his crush, his best friend, is holding him like this. Not when he now knows what the real thing would be like. Not when it's so impossibly out of his grasp.
---
Steve and Wayne are watching a Cub's game. Eddie's curled up on the couch between them, trying to work on a sketch, but his brain keeps skipping to a song he's writing. The lyrics have been easy, coming to him like nothing, but the melody...he wants it to be heavy, loud, wanting, but it won't fit.
He glances up at Steve, chatting with Wayne about some baseball thing called a ribee. His hair's not done, flopping softly around his forehead, and he's wearing his result-of-too-many-concussions glasses, the yellow sweater from that horrific boat ride, retrieved by one of the kids and painstakingly washed by Karen Wheeler.
Steve looks sweet, soft, relaxed. He laughs at something Wayne says, and Eddie's a lost cause. He's just fucking smiling at the pretty boy on his couch, hanging out with his uncle, too far gone to be able to fight it.
A melody forms in his head, and it's soft. Not sweet, no, but gentle. Almost tender. Nothing like he imagined.
---
It's early, early enough that Wayne's not home yet, but he got tired of trying to sleep. Didn't want to bother Steve, who still softly snored in Eddie's bedroom. So, he grabs his acoustic and his notebook, goes out to the couch to work on the song. It's coming along, really good, one of his best. He hasn't shared it with the guys yet. It's--he's not ready, lays him too bare.
There's a clatter from the kitchen, Steve's voice, deep and sleep rough, says, "Hey, Munson."
He pushes the guitar and notebook aside. "Did I wake you? I was trying to be quiet, I'll--"
Steve shakes his head, pads into the living room. He's wearing the yellow sweater, a pair of Eddie's sweatpants, bedhead rampant. He curls up next to Eddie, pulling the couch afghan over his feet. "What're you working on?"
Eddie's ears get hot. "Nothing much. New song I've been noodling on."
"Cool." Steve's smile is little and fond. "Play it for me?"
"Ahh," Eddie says. His hand twitches around the neck of the guitar. "Not sure if it's quite ready for that."
"Oh, yeah." Steve nods. His face does something weird and squiggly that Eddie's never seen. "Just never heard you play before. Thought now might be...you know."
Eddie swallows, hard. "Well, maybe we'll get a show up at the Hideout soon."
"Of course. It's just--this is just you."
He blinks at Steve for a few long seconds, can't believe he's about to do this, but--It's not like Steve will know it's about him, anyway. "It's not a full song yet, alright? Just a verse and half of a chorus, so like. Don't judge it too hard."
"I would never." He can sense Steve's smile but can't look directly at it, knows it would kill him.
He situates the guitar, spins the notebook to read the lyrics like they aren't already burned into his brain, starts to play. His fingers are deft and sure, his voice a little rough, a little raspy with nerves.
The song ends and he's afraid to look at Steve, to see the thoughts written plane on his face. The silence extends, though, and he asks. "So, what did you think?"
"It's--that wasn't what I expected." Steve's voice is weird. Wobbly. Eddie chances half a glance at him, but can't make anything definitive out from his expression. "I didn't think--that's not the kind of music I thought you made."
He licks his lips, swallows. Puts his guitar down. "It's not usually."
"It was a love song." Steve says. His eyes burn into Eddie's.
He can't say anything for seconds that seem to span minutes. "Yeah, Steve," he says in a voice cut with gravel. "It's a love song."
"Eddie," Steve whispers. He reaches out then, thumb tracing along Eddie's jaw, the scars that linger there from the bats. "Is this okay?" He can only nod as Steve's hand twines through his curls.
He's shaking, just a little bit, not because he's inexperienced but because this is Steve, because it's happening, because their lips are meeting and a trembling noise falls from his mouth at the sweet way Steve kisses him.
It's gentle and quick, but they don't part when the kiss ends, stay sharing air as their foreheads rest together. Eddie can't stop smiling.
"Please tell me I'm not dreaming, Stevie" he whispers.
"You dream about me?" Steve asks, eyes blazing.
"I wrote a song about you, and you think dreams are a reach?"
Steve laughs, brushes a kiss against the tip of Eddie's nose. "I loved the song."
"Yeah?"
"Can't wait to hear the whole thing."
"Well, stick around for a while."
Steve leans in, kisses him again, longer this time. "Just try to get rid of me, Munson."
#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#ficlet#fluff#friends to lovers#domestic fluff#getting together#feelings confession#pre-relationship domesticity#post-canon#love builds in the quiet moments#bed sharing#clothes sharing#songwriter eddie munson#steve and wayne are besties#steve and wayne use baseball lingo
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need wayne asking eddie “you sweet on him?” about steve
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Maybe it was a mistake to knock at the Munsons’ trailer …
PoV: You’re the chief of Police Jim Hopper and you’re looking for Steve Harrington because he’s been missing for days and his parents are “oh so worried” about who’s taking care of the house for them.
#I think you should leave#eddie munson#steve harrington#wayne munson#al munson#the munsons#steddie#but also not only 🤭#don’t worry they all take such good care of Steve
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Steve: I actually met your uncle once before we were introduced. Like before the upside down stuff
Eddie: Really?
Steve: Yeah, it’s a funny story. He bought me cereal.
Eddie: …why? Or like, when?
Steve: Uh, it was in between me being too old to have a babysitter when my parents went out of town but not responsible enough to have a credit card. So like, I was nine or ten?
Eddie, to himself: That’s not old enough to be left alone
Steve: My parents used to just leave me cash but sometimes their trips ran over or they were delayed, and in the beginning, I didn’t really know how to budget.
Steve: This one time, their flight got delayed for a couple days or something and I ran out of money, and then I ran out of food so I had to break into my piggy bank.
Steve: I didn’t have the foresight to count my money at home and I guess I was taking too long at the counter-
Eddie: Because you were nine years old
Steve: -‘cause Wayne told me to put my money away and paid for my cheerios.
Steve: I don’t think I even said thank you, man. He tried to talk to me outside the store but I thought he looked scary so I ran away.
Steve: Real Kevin McCallister stuff.
Eddie:
Eddie: Baby?
Steve: Yeah
Eddie: What part of that was supposed to be funny?
Steve: ….Hmph, good point
#Steve: ….oh. that was bad parenting.#Eddie: Yeah! you think?!#This is actually the catalyst for a fic idea I had where Steve and Wayne knew each other before Eddie lived with him#eddie munson tiktok saga#eddie munson#steve harrington
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Ouija Geebies
Summary: How Eddie discovers Heavy Metal. A 13-year-old Eddie Munson at the beginning of his stay with his Uncle Wayne. Struggling to fit in with the new locals, he takes solace in one of the things he smuggled from home, his parent's Ouija board.
Warnings: references but not the detail of abuse, swearing, ouija board, spirits, bullying references, being the new kid, separation from a loved one.
Author notes: This is a complete work of fiction. There are no facts here ☺️ Just in case anyone was wondering, I love music, and I don't believe any of it is satanic. I just thought it would be a fun idea to write about if maybe it was, but then as I was writing, the story took a completely different turn. Something I started before Halloween but didn't finish in time.
Word Count: 10.5K
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The rhythm of the rain against the trailer window made a familiar beat that Eddie's freshly shaven head nodded along to as he worked the needle in and out of the material in front of him.
The Jedi robe of Obi-Wan Kenobi from last year was being repurposed into a cloak for Radagast the Brown. It just needed a bit of roughing up and a few random patches of other textures here and there, some feathers and vines. He had picked out the lining of the original to wrap around the cardboard wizard's hat he had made.
Eddie loved Halloween, and after everything else that had been taken away from him this year, he wasn't about to let his favourite time of year join that list.
He takes a moment and looks around his mostly bare room, save a few things he refused to part with. His acoustic guitar last used to play "Do you believe in magic" to his Mama down the phone earlier today as they sang together. A few LP Records he would listen to with his Mama that his Dad wasn't precious over. His small bundle of favourite books, which had allowed him to escape the obstacle course that was living in a new town these last few months. His almost destroyed comfort blanket he'd had since he was a baby. A few of his personalised button-down shirts, though he was rapidly growing out of them physically. Lastly was smuggled under some bedding to get it here, his parent's Ouija Board game.
Eddie loved that thing. Every year on Halloween night, he'd scare his friends with it. Either pushing the planchette himself or using fishing wire to make things around the room fall down, whilst all that was illuminated by candles in the room was the board itself.
But this year, he had neither the friends, the fishing wire, or enthusiasm. He missed home. He missed his Mama, no matter what anyone said about her. He missed his friends and how everything there worked as expected, and people were not as stuck up. It didn't matter if you didn't like sports, read books and had longer curly hair there.
Eddie knots his thread and bites it off. Then, standing up, he slips on the cloak in an effortless, spinning, fluid motion and twirls around in it before putting on his hat and looking in the mirror. He smiles happily at himself in the mirror for a few seconds until the backfiring of a car makes him hit the deck in a trembling, curled-up ball.
Shaking, he crawls up to the bottom edge of his bedroom window and looks into the twilight with wide fear-filled eyes as the culprit car chugs past and backfires again. "Jesus Christ", he gasps in a whisper clutching his chest over his rapidly thundering heart.
He scrambles to his feet, takes off his costume and hangs it up in his minimalist wardrobe. As he does so, he looks up at the box hidden under the blanket. There was no one to play it with this year, Wayne sure wouldn't go for it, and so far this year, Eddie had successfully made a grand total of zero friends.
Everyone was just so tough in this town. Tough personalities, tough to get along with, tough to read, tough luck, Eddie thought.
'Ah, screw it', he thinks and grabs the box and pulls it down to the floor next to his bed, ready to push underneath should he be disturbed.
He turns out the main light and uses his bedside table lamp so only the board is illuminated. The rest of the room slowly slipping into dim light and finally into inky black in its deepest recesses.
Feeling slightly uneasy in the silence, he turns the radio on low for company.
Eddie sits on the rug, the board in front of him. He reverently places his fingers on the planchette. He moves it around in circles, increasing and decreasing in size and velocity. He begins with his usual performance piece, but this time in a whisper, "I welcome all that mean well and none that wish me harm".
He sits in the low light accompanied by a late-night radio DJ, his fingers lightly touching the planchette while waiting on the board. The plastic felt warm now after warming it up by rushing it around the board.
Eddie feels disappointed in the lack of movement. He'd obviously only ever used it to scare his friends before. He had no idea if something like this would ever actually work. Then he remembers he hasn't even asked a question yet. He speaks quietly into the corner of his room. "Is there anyone here that wants to speak?"
Eddie waits a few minutes for a response, but the mysterious message indicator does not budge. Finally, he sighs deeply and thinks, "Shit, I can't even make a friend when they have nothing better to do, floating around in the afterlife."
He feels his finger slip on the planchette, or at least that's what he thinks at first until it keeps moving. Not a sudden jolt like he used to do to scare his friends, an almost weak pull, moving his hands with it.
S-A-D.
It spells out gracelessly.
Eddie's eyes were wide again, he'd scream if he had any voice to do so, but it had left him alone with the board and his thoughts.
'You're sad?' He thinks.
His hands are pulled to point at 'NO' and then Y-O-U.
At first, he feels fear. He wants to throw the whole set-up back in the box, hide under his comforter with his blanket, and wait it out until the sun comes up.
The more curious part of Eddie focuses on something else. Someone was talking to him. Responding. Even though it only seemed to want to let Eddie know he was sad. Like he wasn't already acutely aware of it.
Eddie feels shame creep over him. That sadness constantly lurked over him like a rain cloud, but just a constant drizzle of rain, not enough power for a full-blown storm to get it to leave him be. For it to rain itself out, for it to be over. Just the constant steady reminders of everything he'd lost.
He tries to pull the indicator towards Good Bye on the board, but this time it pulls back hard.
'E-D-D-I-E'
The sight of his own name being spelt out with power and, this time, speed was enough for him to dump everything back in the box, wrap it back tightly in the blanket, chuck it in the wardrobe, and slam it shut in here.
"Everything ok in there, Eddie?" The deep voice of Wayne rings out in the darkness.
Eddie grabs his blankie and sits against the wall on the bed, with his knees curled up to his chest, terrified but managing to croak out, finally, "No. I had a nightmare. Can I sit with you or call Mama?"
"Tell you what, how about I read you one of your stories, huh?"
Wayne sits on the edge of Eddie's bed. He reads to him until he's so immersed in middle earth that he's quite forgotten his scare and slips into a restful slumber.
That night Eddie dreams of his usual hero's journey. Again, being forced away from his home by an evil tyrant. To live in exile. To battle the terrors of a new land. But this time, something changes. His weapons and armour are gone, and he has no staff to even cast a spell. In their place, all he has is his guitar.
The mighty tiger-headed ancient suea peek, its usual half tiger, half peacock form, was changed to a colossal half tiger half dragon.
He grips the neck and body of the acoustic against his slight frame like it could possibly do anything to save him from his fate.
Then he hears a sound. No. A voice. He can't make out what it's saying. It seems to be speaking in some ancient tongue until he hears something he recognises.
"Eidde! Nosnum Drawde!" It was speaking backwards.
He thinks fast, "em pleh". He shouts against the roars of the gigantic beast.
"YALP!!" The voice booms in a low multi-layered voice.
Eddie does precisely that. He strums his guitar, and a deep cackle sounds out in stereo around him. Then a swirling grey mist begins to spiral around him. Within it, he sees demonic faces, faces pleading for help, sobbing faces and screaming faces. Until, like a reverse bolt of lightning, it shoots into the sky. Then appears to crash back down into his mouth and into his guitar.
He feels the mist consume him from the inside out, and he lets out an ear-splitting yet tuneful scream like he's singing. It reminds him of something, a Led Zeppelin song. Then his arm strums at his guitar without his command, but the clean, beautiful strum is gone. In its place, a distorted gravelly howl of an electric guitar forced the air before him to ripple.
The chugging rhythm he plays quietens the beast, shrinking it until Eddie's left hand is dragged forcefully to the higher, smaller frets. His fingers dance rapidly over the strings, hammering on and off them, his picking hand a blur, causing the guitar to squeal out its solo beautifully. He bends the strings aggressively, and it feels good. He felt powerful. He looks back up at the beast, glaring at it now and takes a step forward, then another and another until he runs towards it.
The beast recoils in fear away from him. Eddie raises his hand, and with a final hard strum of the strings, a boom emits from him, stripping the beast of everything but its bones which clatter to the ground. The dust they stir up clouds and completely obstructs Eddie's vision until his eyes open to a new morning.
Slowly waking up, he looks back to his closet and wonders. The light streaming through the window removed at least one spooky element.
Eddie hates feeling scared, especially in his own home.
Decision made. He gets out of bed, takes a deep breath and opens the closet.
Lays out the board again in front of him as he sits on the floor.
"I welcome all that mean well and none that wish me harm", he whispers as he warms up the board by circling the planchette around it.
"You scared me last night," he says quietly.
S-O-R-R-Y spells out slowly.
"Did you speak through my dream?" Eddie quietly asks
I-H-E-L-P-U it says, moving faster.
"It was a metaphor, right?"
The planchette pulls to 'Yes.'
Eddie sits still for a minute, trying to think what to ask next, "Can you help me make friends here?"
Eddie's hands get flung around the board by the indicator "Yes" M-A-N-Y.
Eddie likes the sound of that, "What do I need to do?"
H-E-A-V-Y-M-E-T-A-L
Eddie contorts his face. "Like a steel girder?"
"No" M-U-S-I-C
Eddie tries to ask a question, but the board has other ideas.
B-L-A-C-K-S-A-B-B-A-T-H is spelt out as his arms are pulled around the board.
Eddie wracks his brain. That sounded familiar.
"Are they like a band?"
"Yes" L-I-S-T-E-N-P-L-A-Y
The planchette moves around the board at a feverish pace, and Eddie can barely keep up.
"Hey! Whoa! Whoa!" Eddie says a little loudly, as his fingers feel stuck to the indicator and yanks his tiny frame around, pulling him from letter to letter frantically.
Eddie screws up his face and feels the anger build up in him. He was sick of being pushed around but everyone, and now this.
He lets out a yell of pure anguish.
The plastic beneath his fingers slows.
"Yes" L-E-T I-T O-U-T
"You promise the music will help?" Eddie asks weakly and quietly. He's pretty confident he can hear Wayne listening at the door after he cried out.
"Yes" O-N M-Y S-O-U-L
Eddie hears a gentle tapping on his door and quickly bundles up the board and shoves it under his bed.
"Eddie? You ok in there? Want some pancakes? We can go to the diner?"
Wayne's voice though deep and gruff is gentle and almost sad.
"Yes, please" He grabs his wash bag and opens the door.
Wayne backs up a few steps so Eddie can get to the bathroom. Eddie gives him a silent nod, looks away quickly and hurries into the bathroom.
He looks at himself in the mirror. The dark circles under his eyes and the yellowing bruise near his temple shouldn't be something a thirteen-year-old should probably have. Still, nothing about anything recently had been normal.
When his Dad finally got put away, he thought his problems were over, it would just be him and his Mom, and that was perfect.
And it was... for a few months, Eddie's house had never felt so openly full of laughter. They didn't have to watch the clock or listen out for cars. But then the red-lettered bills started arriving, and his Mom got sad.
She tried to transport some product for one of his Dad's old friends. It would have made them a life-changing amount of money, but she'd been arrested before she'd even stepped onto that plane. Someone had squealed.
Eddie had been pulled out of class and sent to his grandparents. But, unfortunately, no one could afford the bail. Eddie was beside himself, and his grandparents were no better than his Dad. Every time he cried, he got in trouble, so he acted out in other ways. Ways that they didn't like either, but at least they just shouted at him and didn't call him names for it.
Moodiness, slamming doors, general disobedience, which grew into other things stealing cigarettes, stealing beers, slashing tires and stealing the tractor.
Then after learning his Mom would have to stay in prison, despite Eddie pleading that they could run away together. He shut himself in his room and cried like never before. His grandfather raged at him and threatened to smash his guitar, and that was all it had taken for Eddie to go out in the night and set their barn ablaze.
He knew Wayne but hadn't spent much time with him. Eddie was worried he would just be like the other Munsons, so he was wary, but Wayne did seem to care. He let Eddie call his Mom and wasn't overly strict. So Eddie was trying his best to behave here.
Eddie ran his hand over his shaven head. It had been such a mess when in a temper, he'd hacked at it himself in a rage. Luckily one of the people in the trailer park was a hairdresser, and Wayne asked for their help. But learning his beautiful dark waves and curls were no more had made his Mom cry on the phone. He hoped it was worth it.
He showered, brushed his teeth and put on a fresh pair of jeans and one of his checked button-down shirts. He lovingly strokes his fingers over the initial embroidered by his Mom on the pocket.
"You're gonna need your coat, Eddie. Probably a hat, too, on account of your new hair cut" Wayne offers a small half smile and hands Eddie a coat and hat.
He looks up at Wayne, takes the items carefully, and quickly puts them on.
The car ride to the diner is silent. Eddie stares out the passenger side window, and Wayne focuses on the road.
"Hey, how about we go to the toy shop before we get pancakes, huh?" Wayne asks gently.
"Ok", Eddie answers quietly. Even though he wasn't really interested in toys all that much.
"Or we could go someplace else if you wanna?" Wayne tries again.
Eddie looks over at him quickly and then back out the window before asking faintly, "Is there a music store?"
"There sure is. one of the biggest stores we got, funnily enough", Wayne says enthusiastically. "Want me to come with you, or you wanna have a look-see by yourself?"
Eddie doesn't know the correct answer to this question or the reaction either answer might cause, so he stares out the window hoping Wayne will decide for him.
"Either is fine, Eddie. I can come with you, get you a few records, or you know I can give you some pocket money, and you get 'em yourself. I can wait outside, in the car, or at the diner. Whatever you want, buddy," Wayne adds kindly.
Eddie thinks for a moment. He wasn't sure who was gonna be in the store, and he didn't really want any of the kids from his school to see him with Wayne, but he also was afraid he'd run into the kids from his school and get hurt again.
"Hmmm, what if I go into the music store, and you can go in the store next door?" Eddie asks, expecting the worst.
"Absolutely no problem. Well, it might have to be two stores down because...well...the store next door is for...um...ladies," Wayne says awkwardly.
Eddie smiles a little as he looks out the window as they pull into a parking spot.
Wayne hands Eddie a considerable amount of money. Eddie thinks more than Wayne probably has to spare, as his eyes widen, looking at the money in his hand.
"Now you don't gotta spend it all in there, but it's yours, ok? So if you wanna go someplace else, you let me know, yeah?" Wayne says with a gentle smile.
Eddie swallows nervously and nods, shoving the money in his pocket and getting out of the car.
Wayne points out the store to him and then points at the hardware store to let Eddie know where he'll be.
Eddie walks into the store and is hit by a wall of heat. He looks around at the different music genre placards around the store but can't see what he's looking for.
"Well, hello there, young man", a woman's voice chirps, "Can I help you today?". Eddie reads her badge. Claudia.
She seemed nice, with full rosy cheeks, smiling eyes and a gentle demeanour. She raises her eyebrows at Eddie in encouragement.
"D-do you h-have any...um...metal?" Eddie stutters out quietly.
"Metal?" She chuckles heartily, "No honey, this is a music store. The hardware store is down the street, but even there, you're gonna have to be a little bit more specific than metal."
"Oh...um...heavy metal...er...b-b-b-black Sabbath", Eddie manages to force out.
Claudia looks at him, confused and tilts her head.
Eddie doesn't know if it's his embarrassment or the heating in this place, but he's almost sweating, so he undoes his jacket and takes off his hat.
Claudia gasps as she looks at his hair.
"H-h-had a fight with some clippers. They w-w-won," Eddie tries to joke.
Claudia's expression though still concerned, a small smile returns to her face, "A little comedian, I see. Let me ask my friend over here about your, Black Sabbath, was it?"
Eddie nods, smiles at her and follows her to a guy hunched over a box with shoulder-length dirty blonde hair in a low ponytail.
He turns sleepily to Claudia, a thin-lipped but happy smile on his face, his eyes barely open. "What is up, Mrs H?"
"Well, Ricky. This young gentleman was looking for something I hadn't heard of...Heavy Metal? He mentioned Black Sabbath if that helps?" She asks hopefully.
The man slowly looks around Claudia, and one-half of his smile turns upward even more, "This little guy? He's into downer rock?" He looks Eddie up and down and nods at him with a look of approval, "Nice!"
"CLAUDIA!! PHONE FER YA" a voice booms out from the back of the store.
"Oh, that might be Dusty. I'm sorry, sweetie. I'll be right back." As she rushes to the back of the store.
"Not to worry, my young friend Rick is gonna get you where you wanna go" Rick stretches up his arms to the ceiling. Eddie wrinkles his nose. This guy smelt odd. Not bad. Just odd.
"Follow me, little dude" Rick waves him over to some records and starts flicking through them. He turns to Eddie, "That term you're usin' is pretty fresh, you know? You not from round here."
Eddie stares at him wide-eyed and shakes his head in a no.
"You know, if I was a betting man, and I have been known to bet, looking at your hairdo, I woulda guessed you a punk," Rick says in a relaxed tone.
Eddie panics. He can't believe rumours have flown around so quickly here. "A punk? No sir, I'm a good kid."
Rick lets out a big goofy laugh and wiggles Eddie by the shoulder, "No man, the music punk. You know it?"
Eddie shakes his head again.
"What's your name, little guy?"
"Eddie", it almost comes out in a whisper.
"Well, Eddie, are you in for a night of mind-blowing musical exploration courtesy of one Reefer Rick" Rick points his thumbs towards himself.
"First port of call, do you have a stereo with a headphone jack?"
Eddie nods
"Do you have any headphones? Because believe me when I say you are gonna need 'em, your Ma ain't gonna like this."
Eddie looks at the ground a little sadly.
"Oh hey now", Rick puts his hand on Eddie's shoulder, "You ok, little dude?"
"I don't live with m-m-my folks," he says sheepishly.
Rick sleepily smiles at him, "All I meant was a lot of folks would find this music a bit loud or scary. If it ain't pop or country and teens listen to it, it gets a bad rep. It's just music. They used to say The Beatles, The Stones and Elvis were all in league with the Devil at one time, and now you can listen to 'em over Sunday lunch, right?" Rick does a hip-swinging Elvis move.
Eddie giggles, feeling more at ease and excited to be talking about something he loves. His stutter calms. "Right. I've got headphones at home. Is this heavy metal easy to play?"
Rick raises his eyebrows at Eddie, "You're a musician?"
"I play the guitar a little" Eddie smiles up at him.
"Well, al-right! A fucking rockstar already, right? What you got? A strat-type guitar? You look like a strat kinda guy." Rick gives Eddie a vast toothy grin of excitement.
"It's an acoustic", Eddie says with a little too much excitement and then looks around nervously before retreating back behind his quiet mask.
Rick matches his initial energy. "Well, firstly, punk generally might be a little more simple to play than the heavy stuff, but are you gonna love the guitar solos from Sabbath and Priest!!! I'd definitely recommend getting a second-hand electric as soon as you can, my friend. Also, you don't need to be shy around me, little buddy. You're good here."
The bell of the store door rings, and a group of kids from Eddie's school pile in. Eddie quickly puts on his hat and moves out of their eye line.
"So I'll just take these, yeah?" Eddie tries to hurriedly grab the records Rick is holding.
Rick holds them up higher, "These kids givin' you shit?"
Eddie says nothing.
"Wait here, my friend," Rick says, handing him two records. One has a UK import sticker on it, a bright white face with a leather and studded hat, and sunglasses with blasts of red on them. Judas Priest. Killing Machine.
The other has a woman in black clothing near a pond and an old building, but the colours are strange, making the scene quite creepy. Black Sabbath. Black Sabbath.
Rick comes back around the corner, "Hey man., I've set Claudia on them. They'll be outta here in no time", he chuckles.
Eddie looks puzzled, "Is she mean? She was nice to me."
Rick shakes his head, "It's not that, buddy. She's super nice, but kids your age sometimes find her a little...um...much" The bell over the door rings again, and just like Rick said, they'd left. Leaving Claudia shrugging in the middle of the floor.
It's at that moment Eddie is glad he isn't friends with them. Especially if they were mean to someone as kind as Claudia. She'd been so nice to him.
Rick turns to another section and gets two more records. The Stooges Raw Power and Ramones Rocket to Russia and hands them over to Eddie.
"How are you boys getting on?" Claudia asks kindly.
Eddie beams up at her and displays the records. Claudia looks between the records and Rick, her eyes finally landing on Eddie, "Well, now, don't they look nice" she smiles.
Rick, Claudia and Eddie head over to the register.
"Mrs H, seeing as you helped me make a new bud today, how about you take these sales, huh? For you and Dusty" He smiles and hands her over the records.
She looks at them and back at Eddie, "You know, Ricky. I think these ones are priced wrong. I'm pretty sure we've got a one-day-only sale on heavy metal, don't we?"
Rick furrows his brow for a second and then smiles. He hands her the price tag gun. "Oh yeah, totally forgot to put up the sign. I swear I'd forget my head if it wasn't screwed on. I'm pretty sure it was something like 4 albums for $6.66" his goofy laugh fills the store, and Eddie laughs a little too.
"You know that sounds right" She puts the albums in a bag for Eddie, and he gives her $10.
Eddie looks between the first two kind people he's met in this town that weren't Wayne.
"Keep the change, please. For all your help," Eddie says nervously, looking between them both.
Claudia looks like she just might cry, and Rick gives Eddie a big dopey smile.
"You know what, little man. You're welcome back here anytime. We won't let anyone bother you here, kay? I think you're gonna love those records. If we get any heavy metal in, We'll put a copy in the new Eddie box," Rick adds.
Eddie smiles back, "Thank you," he says before zipping up his jacket, adjusting his hat, taking the bag of records and clinging closely to them, and going to find Wayne.
"Got everything you wanted, Eddie?" Wayne asks.
"Er...yeah...and..." Eddie reaches into his pocket for the extra $10 and gives it back to Wayne, who looks at him surprised and gives him an endearing smile back.
"That was for you, Eddie. Tell you what. I'll keep it safe for ya. Maybe for your next trip to that there record store." Wayne says, tucking the money in his inside jacket pocket as they walk towards the diner.
"I could go back?" Eddie says, then covers his mouth quickly, eyes widened in fear. He didn't mean to let that out. He feels his heart pound in his chest, worrying about Wayne's reaction.
Wayne gently reaches for Eddie's hand, which is covering his mouth, which Eddie initially flinches away from. Wayne looks at the ground, "Easy now, kid" Wayne asks with a soft gruffness and reaches for Eddie's hand again.
Eddie is watching Wayne's hand get closer to his. He can't peel his eyes away. Then, to his surprise, Wayne gently moves Eddie's fingers from his mouth and his hand away from his face.
"Look at me, Eddie." Eddie's wide doe eyes shoot up to Wayne's, possibly still in shock. "I'm not gonna hurt you, ok" Eddie looks around the street and can see people staring at them.
Wayne lets go of Eddie's hand and follows Eddie's eye line, "Tell you what, let's talk about this inside, but answerin' your question. Yes, you can go back." He gives a closed mouth little smile at Eddie and gets a half smile in return.
Wayne finds them a booth tucked away in the corner, and the waitress comes over.
"Afternoon Wayne, and who is this sweet little fella?" She asks. Eddie looks at her and reads her name badge, 'Patty'. She looks a similar age to his Mom.
"This here is my nephew, Eddie. He's gonna be staying with me," Wayne says proudly.
"Well, welcome to Hawkins, handsome. What can I get you?" She asks Eddie with her notepad and pen at the ready.
Eddie blushes furiously and looks down at the table, trying to hide the smile threatening to form on his face.
"Erm...p-p-p", Eddie tries. His smile fades as his nervous stutter gets out of his control.
Patty crouches down, tilts his chin towards her, and looks him in the eyes. "Hey there, sweetheart, take a big deep breath for me, yeah."
Eddie does as asked, and she opens a menu in front of him on the table, "Why don't you have a read of this, and when you're ready, you let me know what you'd like, ok honey?"
Eddie scans the menu, breathing deeply, calming himself and finds what he was trying to say, "Blueberry Pancakes...please...Patty," Eddie manages after a minute or so.
She positively beams back at him, "See, you handle those letters just fine, don't ya. Just need to take your time." Then, she turns to Wayne, "Usual for you?"
He nods, and Patty leaves them to it.
Wayne taps each corner of a little beer mat as it turns between his fingers. He finally blurts out, "I'm sorry you didn't come to me first. I didn't think I was ready to look after a kid. Still don't, but when I heard what happened...where you'd ended up...well..." he sighs deeply, "I lived in that house too, but you don't ever have to go back there, ok? Never"
Eddie nods, looking down at the menu, avoiding Wayne's eyes.
"I know it's not easy, but I hope you can trust me one day. I don't mean you any harm, Eddie. I just want to try my damnedest to make you a home where you're safe, that's all," Wayne says quietly.
Eddie hears his words and wonders. Could he be different? Could Wayne have grown up in that house and not been like his grandparents and Dad? Eddie was so distrustful of him. Any minute he could switch on him, just like they did. On the other hand, he did sound like he was trying his best.
"Thank you, Sir," Eddie says and makes a second of eye contact with Wayne as he does.
"Sir", Wayne pretends to shudder, "I never much liked that, too much like 'The Man', people who demand your respect before earning it, you know? So you can just call me Uncle Wayne or Wayne if you like?"
Eddie glances up again and gives him a small smile, "Ok, Wayne."
Eddie sees a smile appear on Wayne's face that reminds him of his Mom. The kind that made the corner of their eyes crease and their pupils sparkle. A real one, Eddie thought.
Eddie takes off his hat and jacket and places them neatly next to him.
"Now let's see what you've been treating yourself to, huh?" Wayne says, reaching for the record store bag on the table.
Eddie puts his hand on it quickly, nervous energy running through him. Rick said he wouldn't like it, and how could he explain where he heard about it? Eddie could end up locked away somewhere, and no one would believe him.
Wayne raises his hands in submission, "Sorry, didn't mean to pry, was just interested to see what you like."
Eddie tilts his head a little. Interested? Eddie thinks for a minute. Maybe he could show him one or two.
Eddie selects the album with the safest cover, Ramones - Rocket to Russia, pulls out the album and hands it over to Wayne, who accepts it gently and looks at the cover and turns the album in his hands.
He reads for a bit, and then Wayne's eyebrows raise. Eddie braces for the worst. It wasn't even the most offensive looking of the bunch.
"I wonder if these are covers, here look. There are songs with the same title as ones that came out before you were born" Wayne points to Do you wanna dance and Surfin' Bird.
"Does that mean Mama might know 'em too?" Eddie asks excitedly.
"If they're the ones I'm thinking, absolutely. Your Mama loved to dance. She'd know 'em" Wayne smiles warmly at Eddie.
"Will you listen to these songs with me? Make sure they're the ones?" Eddie asks, leaning over the table towards Wayne and looking up at him.
"Yeah, yeah. Absolutely. We can do that. No problem." Wayne's smile is enormous, and Eddie feels something he hasn't felt for a long time, excitement. He's looking forward to something. Maybe this wasn't gonna be so bad.
Patty returns with a hot chocolate for Eddie, piled twice as high with whipped cream and marshmallows, and a coffee for Wayne, "Here you go, gentlemen."
The peak of whipped cream sways as it makes its way down to the table in front of Eddie. "On the house" she smiles at Eddie and then glances at his head.
He tries to make the same joke again. This time it's easier, "I had a fight with some clippers...They won"
Patty lets out a laugh, wholly packaged in joy, wrapped in a ribbon of surprise, which thoroughly infects Wayne and Eddie into doing the same. Eddie looks at them both and feels a little more comfortable.
"Funny too, huh?" She manages when she composes herself. "This town doesn't stand a chance. It's due something good to be true," she beams at Eddie, "I'm gonna see how you're pancakes are coming along, honey."
Wayne takes a sip out of his coffee, "You know, when I was a kid, I loved music. I remember when I was about your age. I had to go into town, take 'em some produce. I was waiting, and there were these kids there...well, they were older than me at the time...slicked back hair, black leather jackets and dirty blue jeans like the guys on your album there. We called 'em greasers on account of the stuff in their hair. They were just passin' through. Some kinda youth motorcycle cavalcade. Most folks despised 'em, not the diner, though, cus they were making a lotta money offa 'em. Anyway, they're playin' this music I ain't never heard before in my whole life. And this girl with them notices my foot a-tappin', and she asks me for a dance. She didn't wait for an answer, mind. Scooped me up, she did, danced me round that whole place until I was leadin' her. I was redder than strawberry, I don't mind tellin' ya, but that music got under my skin like nothin' else. Anyways I got home, got a hidin' because gossip travels faster than a thirteen-year-old boy apparently, but you can bet your ass I got me some of those records. No surprise to you, I'm sure, but they got smashed up for all different reasons, and none of those reasons made a blind bit a sense. Some folks said it was wicked music, couldn't see it myself. It just had a good beat. I lost my whole doo-wop and rock n roll collection to the trash, except for at the diner. They couldn't smash those."
Eddie listens to the story, totally engrossed, leaning over the table at Wayne. He hadn't detected a small whipped cream peak on the end of his nose yet, as he sipped his hot chocolate, never taking his eyes from Wayne as he detailed the story.
He nervously takes the other three albums out of the bag and hands them to Wayne, "The guy in the store said folks might not like it, so I was worried. But, please, don't break them. I can take 'em back and get your money refunded. The people in there were real nice."
Wayne waves his hand, "No need. I'm not gonna break 'em, boy. It's just music. Maybe I won't like it, understand and ask you to turn it down on occasion, but it doesn't mean you can't have it." Wayne laughs, "Would you believe I've actually heard of these two?" Wayne holds up the Black Sabbath album and the Stooges album, "Heard about 'em after 'nam. One of the guys, Houston, from my platoon, got into them when he got home. I didn't hear the music, just the names."
Eddie notices Wayne look a little sadly out of the window for a few seconds and then quickly turns his attention back to the albums and Eddie. Wayne hands the albums back, "Kids are always gonna have music the older folks won't like because they don't get it, but it wasn't made for them" he gives Eddie a smile.
"You got a little something right there" Wayne points at his own nose, and Eddie quickly runs his fingers over his and finds a blob of whipped cream.
Wayne chuckles, and Eddie joins in quietly.
Soon enough, the pancakes arrive, the blueberries arranged in a smiley face. Eddie looks up at Patty, "Thank you, Ma'am", as he gives her a half smile before tucking into his pancakes.
Maybe it wasn't going to be so bad here, he thought. Perhaps this is what the board meant. The music had helped him gain friends today. Sure not like his peers like he wanted, but people had been kind to him, and he learned a little more about Wayne.
When they get home, Wayne sits with Eddie, and they play some of the albums and listen together before Wayne has to go to work the night shift. The first night shift since Eddie got here, he said it paid better money. Wayne had introduced him to the neighbours in case he got scared, or anything went wrong, he could go see Mrs Roberts or Ms Grant.
It turns out that the music wasn't really to Wayne's taste, maybe in parts a little creepy, but Eddie loved it because it was so immersive. They confirmed that the two songs on the Ramones albums were indeed covers, and when the time came, Eddie played bits of the record down the phone to his Mama.
Her ripple of giggles down the phone line fills Eddie's heart like a hot air balloon. He grips the phone cord like he's frightened he might float away.
"Oh, I sure remember those songs, baby bear" He can hear her beautiful smile as she talks, "You gonna learn 'em for your Mama? Before you run off and be a big-time rock star?"
"Even if I did become a rockstar, I'd always make sure to play them for you, Mama," He says gently.
"Oh, that's nice to hear, bear" She coughs, and it turns into a loud stream of coughs and spluttering.
Eddie grips the handset, "Mama? MAMA??!! Are you ok??" His eyes widen with panic as he shouts into the phone, pleading, "Are you still there, Mama? Can you hear me?" His eyes darted to Wayne for help, but what could he do? He was stuck hundreds of miles away, just like Eddie.
"Sorry, baby bear, I'm right here" her voice sounded weak, and her words were croaky, "Just a nasty cough, that's all. Listen, I gotta go, but we'll talk real soon, ok sweetheart? I love you so much, Eddie. I love you 1, 2, 3...."
"Forever," they say together.
Eddie sighs. The calls always seem to end so quickly. He missed her so much that it physically hurt sometimes.
"Come on, buddy. She'll be ok. Let's get you something to eat." Wayne tries
Eddie feels a stab of anger surge through him. What did Wayne know? His Mom was stuck in prison, not a spa retreat. It was terrible. She didn't belong there. She belonged at home. She belonged with Eddie.
He glares at Wayne, contorting his face into a deep frown, clenching his fists and tensing his body.
Wayne sits back down, nods at Eddie and casts his eyes to the floor.
Eddie storms off to his room, slamming his door behind him and making the whole place shake. He turns on his stereo and turns it up as loud as possible. He picks up a pillow from his bed, slams his face into it and yells before slamming it back down on his bed and punching it repeatedly until his arms are as sore as his eyes are.
Then the tears came, like rivers coursing down his face, as he threw his head forward into his hands. Thankfully, the music was loud enough to hide his guttural sobs.
It wasn't fair.
He couldn't do anything about any of this. He felt so helpless and out of control. He hated feeling this way. No one understood. He just wanted to feel normal. Not afraid, not full of rage, not full of sadness. Eddie flops back down onto his bed and hides under his tear-stained pillow.
Alone in the trailer, Eddie gets his guitar later that night and tries to work out some songs and how to play them. Some sounded weird on an acoustic, but some songs lend themselves to that.
His fingertips had started to ache a little, so he put the Black Sabbath album on again. The beginning scene, setting with the rain and bell tolls, the moodiness of the music draws his eyes back to where the ouija board lies in the darkness. Eddie lies down on the floor on his stomach and reaches into the inky black under his bed until his fingers meet the blanket, and he pulls the board back into the low light of his room.
Eddie sets out the board and, with no one home, asks aloud this time, "Hello, is anyone there?"
Without any warming up this time, the planchette forcefully pulls him towards 'Yes.'
"I got the music. I like it. I'm learning to play it. Like you said"
G-O-O-D
"My Mama-" he starts.
S-I-C-K
"Yeah"
E-D-D-I-E T-H-E H-E-R-O
"I can save my Mama?" Eddie asks hopefully
R-O-C-K-S-T-A-R
Eddie is utterly confused and thinks for a moment, "I need to play her the songs?"
R-U-N-N-E-R
Eddie, still bewildered, tries to ask something, but he's already being pulled around the board again, increasingly fast and forcefully.
L-E-A-D-E-R
F-R-E-A-K
"Ok, that's enough!"
B-A-N-I-S-H-E-D
"No! This is wrong. I'm not...please," Eddie cries out, his fingers feel welded to the planchette as it circles the board. Finally, it stops, but Eddie cannot release it. Instead, it forcefully and purposefully moves to its following letter, and grooves appear in the board as it scrapes between the letters.
K-I-L-L-E-R
"No. That's not true!!" Eddie yells out.
A cold chill creeps up Eddie's back and over his shoulders. Like someone's ice-cold hands. He realised what he forgot to say before he started using the board today.
"You aren't who I was talking to last time, are you?" Eddie whimpers out as it points to no, the clear window in it cracks, and feels his fingers detach from the plastic.
The planchette flies from the board, throwing him backwards and Eddie ducks just in time for it to fly past his head, where it stabs forcefully into the wall.
Eddie starts crawling backwards out of his room, never taking his eyes from the planchette currently vibrating in the wall like it was trying to dislodge itself.
Eddie slams his door shut and runs out of the trailer, desperate to remember whose trailer was who's.
As he runs, he turns back to the trailer and hears an almighty crash, but he keeps going until he's at a door Eddie thinks he recognises.
He wants to hammer on the door for them to let him in, but he's already in so much trouble. He taps a few times. His grateful eyes stare at an old, wizened, shawled Ms Grant.
"Oh, Ms Grant. It's me, Eddie. I live with Wayne. I was wondering if I could wait with you a while?" He says, out of breath, looking back at the trailer a few times.
"Something spooked ya, boy?" She says, looking through her tiny spectacles and down her nose at him.
"You could say that," Eddie says, casting a fearful look back at the trailer.
She purses her wrinkled mouth, "Wait there, don't move, young'un."
Eddie is so desperate to get into a safe place he contemplates barging past her to safety, but he waits, sweating with terror, but he waits all the same.
Ms Grant returns, hobbling back into view on her walking stick, with something burning in her hand. She motions with it, wiggling it around in the space in front of Eddie and around his head. It smelt weird.
"Ok, now you can step inside, boy" she steps awkwardly to the side and lets him in, wafting the smokey stick behind him.
Eddie looks around her trailer. It was a place at odds with itself. One half what you'd expect for a little old lady floral painted crockery and tea set, patchwork blankets, a tub of knitting and yarn balls, a stack of puzzle books, and an old TV blaring out some game show in the corner.
Meanwhile, amongst all these things were plants hanging from the ceiling in bundles, a set of rifles, a set of hunting knives, candles, a rainbow of what looked like rocks or pebbles, some weird-looking books and symbols drawn all around in some sort of powder.
"Thank you, Ms Grant. Would you mind if I stayed until Wayne gets home?" Eddie says with relief and hopefulness.
She was busy hobbling over to the kitchen area. "Oh, yes, of course, young 'un. I've been expecting ya" she smiles a mostly toothless smile and brings over two already-made cups of tea.
Eddie rushes over to help her with the tray.
"Mighty kind of ya, Eddie. Just set it down over there" She loosely gestures to a small table between two armchairs, one of which she settles into, picks up her cup and takes a sip.
"I know you're new here, but you should know this place isn't the quaint small town it seems." She rocks back in her chair and peers at Eddie over the rim of her cup, "Wanna share what spooked ya?" She says, raising her eyebrows which only seem to exponentially multiply the wrinkles on her forehead.
"Erm..." Eddie starts, he couldn't possibly tell her the truth, but he got the feeling she would be able to know if he lied, "I thought something flew past me in my room, and I got scared and ran."
"Like a poltergeist?" She says, leaning forward in her chair, so it ceases its squeaky rocking.
Eddie looks at her blankly. She picks up her stick and gestures to a box on top of the bookshelf, "Get that for me, would ya?"
Eddie puts his teacup down and goes to get the box for her.
As he clambers up on a nearby stool and retrieves the box, he notices some booklets lying down on one of the shelves. The cover shows an armoured hero fighting a faceless armoured villain, presumably.
"Like that game too, do ya?" She croaks out as Eddie descends to the floor and puts the box in front of her. As the box makes contact with the floor, the thick layer of dust on top of it springs up, throwing him into a coughing fit.
Eddie grabs his tea, takes a sip, and peers into the box as he manages, "That book is a game?".
Below the layer of dust Eddie can see candles of all shapes, sizes and colours and more bundles of herbs.
"Well, I'd hardly call it a book, dearie, but yes, my great nephew Paul loves playing it. So if you wanna borrow it, go ahead. I know where you live if you don't return it." She cackles.
"Maybe next time he visits, you can meet him, he's a little younger than you, but he doesn't have many friends either," she says creakily as she pokes through the box with her stick.
"I'd really like that, thank you," Eddie says politely. Slightly concerned, as below the candles, weirder things are emerging from the box, bones, teeth, tiny dolls, little bottles or liquids.
Ms Grant leans down towards the box. Eddie swears he hears twenty different joints pop or creak as she does. She picks things out of the box and starts loading Eddie up with them.
"What's all this for, Ms Grant?" Eddie looks down into his arms at the collections of trinkets, herbs, and candles.
"We're gonna go over to yours and cleanse it," she says matter-of-factly, "You see, it sounds to me like you have an unwelcome visitor."
Eddie nods, the fear that what happened becoming confirmed as real is even more troubling than what he ran away from.
"We'll go over there and sort it all out for you, youngun'."
She reaches up her old wrinkled hand to Eddie, and he gently helps her back to her feet and helps her down her trailer stairs and up into his own.
"Where'd it happen?" She says gently. Eddie points a shaky hand to his bedroom.
Ms Grant starts to plod towards it, her smudge stick of burning herbs still in her hand. Eddie reaches out to stop her, "You aren't seriously thinking about going in there, are you?" he says with alarm.
"We've gotta get rid of it, young'un. Do you want that thing hanging 'round ya forever?"
Eddie shakes his head rapidly, his face etched with absolute fear, his mouth is trying to form words, but he seems unable to get them out. The frustration builds, and he wrinkles his nose and clenches his fist at himself in frustration. Finally, he takes the smoking bundle of herbs from Ms Grant and moves in front of her, quietly and cautiously moving towards the door.
His free shaking hand reaches out in slow motion to the handle. His fingertips make contact, and he glances back over his shoulder at Ms Grant, who, to his alarm, is nowhere to be seen. He frantically looks over his other shoulder.
"Jesus H Christ!!" He shouts when he is almost nose-to-nose with her. He had no idea how she had snuck up on him so silently.
She's staring past him at the bedroom door. "You know, some of these things, they cling to people, to objects, and they can grow more powerful the more negativity they have to feed off".
She reaches out and touches Eddie's arm. "I know you and Wayne haven't had the best run at life so far. But, I think you both, being in the same place, made a feast for this thing, must be how it got through," she muses, but never taking her eyes from the door.
"Well, it also might be because I used my ouija board. I forgot to do the ward first," Eddie says openly, assuming that he couldn't sound crazier than what was actually happening.
"I doubt that was the cause. It was probably already lurking. It was just waiting for you to believe in it. The board usually acts as communication. Sometimes they might try to attach themselves to a seeker using the board." She says, looking over the door.
Eddie shudders, remembering that ice-cold feeling from earlier, and he starts to feel a panic set in. "I th-th-think it m-m-might have t-t-tried...." He takes a deep breath, " that."
Ms Grant's eyes finally turn to Eddie's, "Then you cannot go back in there!" She snatches the smudge stick from Eddie, the bells in her hand jingle, and from inside his room, Eddie hears a whoosh and another thud, "Stay here. Do not open this door. D'ya hear me, boy?!" She says with authority.
Eddie looks worried, but nods, a little ashamed and steps out of her way.
With bated breath, Eddie watches as she opens the door and slips inside the room quickly, the fastest she's moved since Eddie met her.
He can hear her mumbling something, the bells gently chiming, but he can't quite make it out. He moves closer to the door and presses his ear against it.
WHACK, something hits the other side of the door with force.
"Leave that boy be, evil one! " Ms Grant bellows as Eddie falls back from the door onto his backside, finding himself crawling backwards from his bedroom door for the second time today. He can barely catch his breath. The room seems to be slipping away from him. Almost like it's getting gradually smaller in his vision until it is just a pinprick of light, and then there is only darkness.
Eddie lurches forward, taking a deep gasping breath. He feels the ice cold first, then the water, he rubs it out of his eyes, and Ms Grant swims into vision, "Ah, thought I'd lost ya then, boy." She reaches out a leathery hand to him to help him up. Eddie takes it but uses his own body strength to get back up. "Ya ok?" She asks, and for the first time, she seems to have genuine concern in her eyes for him.
"Don't worry about me. What about you?" He says as he moves into the bathroom to grab a towel for the floor and one for himself.
She smiles at him crookedly, "oh yeah, nothin' to it. Everything is gonna be fine now. Now I hope ya don't mind. I took the liberty of destroying that board and planchette and put you up some of Pauly's posters to cover up some of the damage it caused. You know. Until ya get your own posters."
"Wow! how long was I out for?" Eddie forces himself to laugh, trying not to think of one of the few things he has from home has been destroyed.
"Oh, a few hours, not to worry. You're scrawny enough to easily walk around," she lets out a cackle.
Eddie gives her back a tiny smile and grabs his jacket, "I don't know how I'll ever be able to thank you enough, Ms Grant. I still can't believe you believed me!!!" He says in astonishment, zipping up his jacket over his still-damp t-shirt, "Want me to walk you home, Ms Grant?" Eddie offers her his arm.
She sighs, "You know what young 'un. You had a big scare here today. So I'll do you another favour, I'll stay here with ya til Wayne gets home."
Eddie feels the panic rise in him. Wayne might lose his mind if he found out what had happened, or what Eddie had been up to. It must show on his face as she moves to reassure him quickly.
"Ya Uncle, he's a quiet man, keeps to hiself mostly, but he's a good 'un." She says as she moves towards the sofa to sit down, and Eddie follows and sits next to her, "I won't be telling him any of what happened, so don't ya worry your perdy little head 'bout it alright?" She settles back into the sofa, "As for thanks, there's a few things ya can do, actually."
Eddie leans towards her, "Yeah, absolutely anything."
She smiles at him, "Well, first of all, next time Pauly visits, you should come meet him, he's a little strange, but I venture you are too. Next, you can cut your Uncle a lil' slack. He ain't perfect, buts compared to most around here, he's a saint. He was so happy when he could finally get you here with him. Wouldnt shut up about it. Lastly, and this might be the most important thing, I need you to heed me well."
She turns to face Eddie and looks him directly in the eyes, her voice low as if she doesn't want someone to overhear, "This town, it's cursed. Now don't go panicking. It don't mean happiness can't be found here. It's just when big bad weird shit happens around these parts, it's usually Hawkins. What happened here is just a speck of its weirdness. Now, I've done all I can to protect your home, Eddie, but you must be vigilant. Do not let strangers in here. Observe people, and make sure you know who you're befriending. After that spirit passed through here, the veil is thin. If someone comes in here and has evil in 'em or stuck on 'em, it will go off like a powder keg here, ya understand?"
Eddie's eyes go wide, and he recoils slightly, "How will I know if they're bad?"
"That's the thing. Not all those with evil in 'em or on 'em are bad or even look or act bad, Eddie. But if ya know 'em. You'd see a change. Usually, for the worse. Like darkness settling on them. So keep your eyes and ears open, always."
Eddie nods. "I promise."
"That's a good lad," She says proudly, "Now can you get my shows on here?" She points her stick at the TV, and Eddie rushes to turn it on for her.
Eddie cautiously enters his room to get changed. He sees the Motorhead and Deep Purple posters on the wall and the back of the door and that his room looks incredibly tidy. He lets out a sigh of relief as he doesn't feel that same weirdness in here anymore, that tension in the air. He puts on his pyjamas and grabs a blanket, heading back into the living room and curling up in Wayne's armchair.
His eyelids grow heavy, and thoughts swim through his head. Maybe it had been a rough start here, but that was the kind of place Hawkins was, tough to crack.
Maybe it wouldn't be so bad now with the few kind people he'd encountered already. Perhaps he could make new friends, but he'd been looking for them in the wrong places. He could find more people like him who didn't fit the norm. Yeah, that would be cool, he thinks as he drifts into a peaceful sleep.
Eddie sits bolt upright, and nearly scares Ms Grant to death. Eddie relaxes a little as he looks around. The crunch of gravel under tyres must have woken him up again. As soon as he looks around and realises he is in Wayne's trailer, he forcefully exhales and relaxes back into the armchair. His heart still pounding in his chest as he moved from Wayne's armchair to the sofa next to Ms Grant.
The door to the trailer opens, and Wayne reverses in quietly.
"Wayne", Ms Grant greets him.
Wayne's head shoots around, "Ms Grant" he nods and takes off his hat, then his eyes adjust to the darkness, "Eddie? Everything ok?". Wayne's eyes move between the two of them in a panic.
"Oh sure, sure", Ms Grant reassures Wayne kindly, "He just got a bit scared, thought I'd stay til you got back. Beats sitting on my lonesome" she smiles at Eddie and then over at Wayne.
"Well, that's mighty kind of ya, Ms Grant. Anything I can get ya? For your trouble?" Wayne asks gently.
"No, not at all. I'll just be making my way back now," She says, getting up from her seat, and Eddie rushes to assist, pulling on his coat and shoes.
Wayne beams at Eddie and puts his hand on his shoulder, "I can take it from here, buddy, but you can wait here in the doorway for me. So you'll be able to see me the whole time, kay?"
Eddie smiles at Wayne and nods, watching him escort Ms Grant back home before jogging back and dragging in a tall box from the porch, which he lays down on the floor inside the trailer living room.
"Hey. Sorry I was a bit late today. It won't happen again. I got chatting to one of the guys at work, an...um...I just happened to mention you played guitar. He said his boy was learning but switched to bass and said he had this gatherin' dust, so I...er...was gonna surprise you in the mornin' but...er...you're awake now so...um..."
Wayne gestures at the box awkwardly.
Eddie approaches carefully, kneels down and opens the box lid.
Eddie can barely believe it, but it's an electric guitar. He must sit there staring over it wide-eyed and open-mouthed for at least a whole minute.
"Look, I know it doesn't have an amplifier, cables, an' stuff. But I figure you can still practice on it until we get some and-" Wayne is explaining, trying to fill the silence as he turns his cap in his hands before Eddie speaks.
"Thank you, Wayne, so very much. You didn't have to do this. I already have a guitar. It's beautiful...I...but...Won't it be loud?" he turns and looks up at Wayne, a little worried.
Wayne crouches down next to Eddie but leaves him a safe gap between them. Wayne gives him that big warm smile, "You're supposed to be loud, Eddie. You're a teenager."
"What about the neighbours?" Eddie's brow is still furrowed with worry.
"The way you play, they should count 'emselves lucky to hear it. Besides, most of 'em are either hard o' hearing, or they'll be blastin' their TVs anyway. It's not like you're gonna be playing it at 1am with a wall of Mashall amps, is it?" Wayne chuckles.
"You won't get mad?" Eddie asks, his brow relaxing a little.
"Now, I can't say never, on account of me bein' a mere human bein', but I promise, Eddie...I swear...You're safe here with me, ok?" Wayne goes to reach out to touch Eddie's shoulder but stops himself. "I got no interest in hurtin' you or makin' your life any harder than it already is, ok? I know you ain't had a good representation of family so far, other than your Mama, but Eddie...You're my family. You're my blood. I'm on your side, an' I love you."
Eddie gives Wayne a small, sombre smile.
"I know you're tryin' your best, and things take time, so I'm not rushin' ya. I just wanted to make sure you know, without a shadow of a doubt, how much I care about you and how welcome an' wanted you are here." Wayne adds, standing up, "Anyway, she's all yours."
Eddie reverently takes the Stratocaster copy from its box. He holds it by its neck and starts walking towards his room.
As he opens the door, he turns around and looks at Wayne, "Does this mean I should expect a gift every time you are late home or...." Eddie says as he looks around the trailer ceiling before a playful smile spreads across Eddie's face, creasing the corners of his eyes a little. Finally, his eyes land back on Wayne, and his smile broadens further, causing dimples to imprint in his cheeks.
Wayne runs his hand over his chin, trying to repress a huge grin of his own, nodding as he says, "Good night Eddie."
"Good night, Uncle Wayne," Eddie says softly as he closes the door to his room.
#eddie munson#eddiemunson#eddiemunsonfanfic#eddiemunsonfanfiction#eddie munson fan fic#eddie munson fan fiction#wayne munson#eddie munson wayne munson
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Eddie surviving and going to see The Princess Bride when it comes out in 1987—and it’s a tentative thing, still, between him and Steve; they haven’t named it, but their hands still brush in the space between their seats, and really if Eddie were pushed, he’d say that they both know exactly what they’re heading towards, that they’re just floating between the end of one chapter and the beginning of another. That’s fine by him; they have time now, so much of it.
And the movie is charming and funny, but it’s not the romance or adventure that hits Eddie in the chest. It comes on unexpectedly, every time there’s a scene with the man reading to his grandson who’s sick in bed: suddenly Eddie can feel the softness of the bedsheets he had when he was young, when the move to Wayne’s was still raw and difficult, and it’s Wayne who’s reading to him softly, back when stories of things turning out fine were all Eddie had.
“Let’s see… where were we?” the grandfather mutters, and Eddie laughs because he can hear so much of Wayne in it, that gentle, wry humour. “Oh, yes. In the Pit of Despair.”
Eddie laughs again, choked. He’s clawed his way out of that damned pit so many times. His breathing catches at the thought that it’s been over a year since the deepest pit of them all, when Eddie once thought that the walls were far too high to climb.
“Woah, hey,” Steve whispers, “what’s wrong?”
Eddie shakes his head, smiling. “N-nothing.”
Their row is empty, and in the dark Steve reaches out, fingertips gently brushing underneath Eddie’s eye. They come away wet.
And Steve gives a little shushing noise, so that only they can hear, and it’s him who makes the leap, easily turning the page into the new chapter.
To some people Eddie’s first kiss would mean nothing at all—in their eyes, a chaste peck of comfort in a movie theatre would be just a speck in the grand history of the kiss itself. But for Eddie, it leaves them all behind.
“Farm boy,” he murmurs, when the movie’s over, smiling because the great, terrible story is done, and he is here; he is here. “Take me home?”
Steve smiles back, winks out the corner of his eye. “As you wish.”
#i just have so many feelings about Eddie & healing#eddie munson fic#eddie munson ficlet#steddie#steddie ficlet#eddie and wayne munson#steve x eddie#eddie munson#steve harrington#wayne munson
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just imagine rockstar! eddie releasing a new album, where one of the songs is called “a voice from above”. in it, he sings about a heavenly voice coming to him in the hardest, darkest hour of his life, when he was ready to give up and stopped seeing a future for himself, and calling him towards the light, coaxing the best out of him and pulling him up from the pit of despair eddie was slowly drowning in.
and it’s a rock ballad, so it differs quite a bit from cc’s usual style, is more “palatable” to the general public with it’s slower tempo, gentler melody and hauntingly beautiful vocals, with addition of a choir in the climax. and because of that, christians start claiming it (basically what happened with “take me to church”), newspapers and magazines wonder at eddie munson, the man a large part of whose aesthetic was so often referred to as “satanic” by the general public, with seemingly no denial from cc, who seemingly has finally found his way to religion.
and when cc comes to their next interview, the question of whether the great non-conformist eddie munson, who on multiple occasions dragged the christian church through the mud with accusations of hypocrisy and fostering bigotry in its midst in his songs and public speeches, has finally found god, inevitably comes up. the moment cc hear it they burst out laughing. after a while, eddie finally responds.
“this song is full of religious motifs, but not nearly for the same reasons you guys seem to think it is. it’s just that the experience the song is dedicated to was the closest i think i ever came to understanding what makes people come to real, genuine faith, the one that fills you with clarity, love and acceptance for the world around you, makes you feel like a part of something so much larger and greater than a mortal human being can possibly comprehend or reach on their own. that experience being the voice of the man that i came to love reaching me while i was in coma and reminding me of all the reasons life was worth fighting for, and then keeping inspiring me to be the best version of myself throughout my whole life.
and that, folks, is how being incredibly gay can save your life! i also don’t mind christians blasting “a voice from above” on their little church parties: my husband, after all, is definitely an angel on earth and absolutely deserves to be worshipped. but don’t you worry, i’m handling that pretty well on my own” and he winks at the camera.
and that’s how the world finds out that eddie munson is married.
#because i genuinely think that eddie would channel a lot of his religious trauma in his music#while also having an example of healthy faith from wayne#or wayne doesn’t even have to be religious#as a person who hates religious institutions while still thinking that the world’s religions can be incredible and inspiring#i’m bestowing my worldviews on poor unsuspecting eddie#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#rockstar eddie munson#get steve harrington to be loved and appreciated agenda#steve cried when he watched this interview for the first time btw#will rockstar! eddie au ever release me from it’s clutches? it remains to be seen#steddie hcs#steddie headcanon#eddie munson hcs#what god? the only thing i worship is my husband’s ginormous beautiful ti-#- eddie munson at some point#yes that parallel with take me to church is there for a reason
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Just got this image in my mind that Eddie introduced Steve to Wayne as the guy who carried him out of hell. Wayne immediately saw him as the guy who could keep his boy safe, so he started inviting Steve over for dinner all the time. He didn't out Eddie, but he kind of started dropping hints about Eddie's availability. He brags about talented his nephew is to Steve, and when Steve reveals he doesn't know how to play the guitar, Wayne pushes Eddie to teach him. It goes on for a long time after that until one night, Eddie walks Steve out the door.
"Uh, is your uncle trying to set me up with you?" Steve asked.
"Yeah," Eddie said with a snort.
"Why doesn't he already know that we're dating?" Steve asked.
"I want to see how long I can keep this up for. I want to see if he breaks," Eddie snickers.
"BOY! I heard all that! You're not as quiet as you think you are!" Wayne hollered.
"Well, fuck."
#stranger things#stranger things s4#eddie munson#joseph quinn#eddie stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson lives#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington x eddie munson#steddie ficlet#wayne munson#uncle wayne#good ol' uncle wayne
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Of course it’s got the little marshmallows in it Eddie. Uncle Wayne knows how to make hot cocoa ☕️
#eddie munson#wayne munson#my art#stranger things fanart#uncle wayne#eddie is me trying to write right now lol
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Eddie and Wayne getting not just any house post-vecna, but the Harrington house itself. Steve's parents were selling it to any buyer, govt took it and threw it at the munsons as part of their hush money.
Steve's in the middle of getting evicted and he's miserable but then shock! eddie and wayne invite him to live with them! and so on and so forth...
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