#good uncle wayne munson
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Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles pop-up Spring challenge.
Sprung
Prompt: Spring | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: None | Tags: Future Fic, Established Relationship, Struggling to Make Ends Meet, Light Angst, Sacrifice, Love, Making a Life Together
"Steve, please," Eddie says, and Steve stills.
"I thought you were asleep?" Steve whispers in the dark, and Eddie's not sure why Steve's trying to be quiet at this point. They're both awake now. Steve's made sure of that.
"I was," Eddie huffs out, annoyed, because he had been. But Steve's constant flopping around has ruined that. Steve's become the world's shittest sleeper lately, and that's not exactly ideal in a bed partner.
"Sorry," Steve says, stilling, "I'll try to stop moving around."
Eddie just mutters something that he hopes passes as a thanks, and rolls back over. He has to get up at six, and he fucking needs his four hours. That's not too much to ask for, goddamnit.
Steve's still for a few minutes, but then rolls over in his sleep, again, and the whole bed shifts and shakes. Again. Eddie's had enough, and snags his pillow off the bed, padding down the hallway to crash on the couch. He's exhausted. He can't do this tonight. He can't.
He still wakes up tired, because it was too cold in the living room. Their shitty radiators either don't work, or boil you. No middle ground. Fucking shithole. But it's the best they can do for now, since they're barely keeping their heads above water, as is. Working just to live. It's been hard. Harder than Eddie expected, and he grew up with fucking hard.
He'd hoped they'd be past that now, hoped he'd finally catch a goddamn break.
Of course not.
It's the Munson curse.
And now Eddie's in a bad mood, even as Steve's pouring coffee into Wayne's old thermos for him, packing Eddie's metal lunchbox, to keep him going on the jobsite all day.
"Thanks," Eddie says, taking it, and Steve just nods silently, clearly aware Eddie's in a mood this morning.
Eddie worries they're circling the drain, from circumstances alone. It's not a love problem, it's a life problem, and that makes it worse.
And before long, Eddie realizes he broke the seal, having introduced a new wedge between them. Now that the couch is in play, they aren't even sleeping in the same bed most nights anymore. Steve will go, or he will, and now they're sleeping apart more nights a week than they sleep together. Maybe they're getting more rest, but they're also growing even further apart.
Today, Eddie's coffee and lunch are on the counter, but Steve's already in the shower, and their ten minutes together in the morning are gone.
Just like that.
Eddie grabs his work boots from the closet, flopping down on Steve's side of the bed to put them on, and he's suddenly assaulted, poked right in the ass by whatever Steve's left laying on the mattress.
Standing up, he's sliding his hand over the bed in the dark to see what the fuck he sat on. Nothing. He yanks the sheets back, and there's still nothing, so he strips it further.
It's a spring.
And it's threatening to fully poke through, probably right where Steve's back rests. Goddammit. No wonder Steve can't fucking hold still at night. He's being tortured, Eddie thinks, as he presses his hand against the spring, feeling it bite into his hand.
A rogue mattress spring.
That's what's divided them, broke them down.
Eddie sits back down, lets the spring dig into his ass, and holds his head in hands. He's not gonna cry. He doesn't have time. He has to go to work. But goddamn this.
He's still sitting there when Steve comes in and is rifling through the closet, "You okay?"
"No," Eddie says.
Steve walks over and puts the back of his hand on Eddie's forehead and Eddie laughs, wetly.
"You don't feel hot," Steve declares.
"No, I don't," Eddie mutters, because damn, he fucking doesn't feel hot at all. He feels broken down and worn out.
He reaches up and catches Steve's hand, bringing it to his mouth, kissing it.
"I'm sorry about the mattress. I didn't know," Eddie says, looking up at him.
"It's okay, I'm used to it," Steve says, and he rubs his fingers against the top of Eddie's head.
"You shouldn't have to be," Eddie says, dejected.
Steve Harrington chose him, loves him, and Eddie can't even give him a bed to sleep on that isn't trying to pierce his spleen every night.
They can't afford a new one, not right now, and Eddie hates that he can't fix this.
"We'll flip it," Eddie offers.
"Then it'll have the crater on your side again," Steve says with a laugh. And yeah, Eddie'd forgotten they flipped it last year, after his side started breaking down. Sucking him inward, like a gate into the Upside Down.
That doesn't matter.
"Well, that's gotta be better than this," Eddie admits, bouncing a little. Anything would be better than this torture device.
Steve kneels between Eddie's open thighs, "It's okay, Eddie."
It's not.
"I'm sorry I was being a jerk. I didn't know," Eddie says.
"I know you didn't," Steve answers, "I didn't want you to worry."
Eddie brushes Steve's hair off his forehead, "I'm still sorry. I love you. You know that, right?"
Steve grins, and it's blinding, "Always. Work now, worry about the mattress later."
Eddie nods, smiles, and when Steve moves from between his knees, Eddie leans over and laces up his boots. Ready to start another day.
That evening, when Eddie pulls into the driveway, Wayne's truck is parked behind Steve's car. Eddie hadn't realized Wayne was coming, and grins. This day just got way better.
Eddie plows into the house, and finds Steve in the bedroom, a pair of needle nose pliers dug into a small hole they've cut in the mattress, trying to bend the spring back into its original position. Wayne's standing there, talking Steve through the temporary fix, until they can afford something better.
It's gonna be okay, Eddie realizes. They're just a little bent out of shape right now. A little sprung.
If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!
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#steddieholidaydrabbles#spring#steddie#steddie ficlet#wayne munson#steve harrington#eddie munson#future fic#good uncle wayne munson#thisapplepielife: short fic#thisapplepielife: steddieholidaydrabbles
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Eddie is sixteen and his magic is incredibly volatile. He's powerful and he has trouble not accidentally casting when his emotions are high (which is always) or casting on a whim, not being careful enough of his words, and suffering the unintended consequences. Wayne ends up hiding the grimoires and family journals until Eddie learns a little more control, and is the first to realize that Eddie casts better while he's playing music. They develop a system, by no means perfect, where Eddie composes a song based on how the spell feels.
Sixteen is also the year Eddie falls in love. He's always known he liked boys, but never thought about relationships. He lives in Hawkins and is a witch, for god's sake. He sneaks off to Indy, goes to bars, but can't imagine having something like a boyfriend.
Jackson is new in town, already 17 but in Eddie's grade. It starts as friendship, but before long Jackson kisses him. Eddie thinks it's like a fairytale. It ends when Jackson's military dad is transferred to a base overseas. It's mundane. It rips Eddie's heart to shreds.
After, Eddie does a spell. He knows he shouldn't; he's too upset and his magic is unpredictable at the best of times. He doesn't care. He grabs his guitar, starts playing. The song is melodic, layered, sad. He starts babbling, casting a spell to never fall in love by creating the most beautiful, unrealistic boy in the world. He won't remember some of what he says--and that's a problem-- but knows he talks about a boy with a map of the night sky on his body, the loneliest king, the prettiest man in Hawkins, jock with a heart of gold, lover of nerds and small children, throws himself into danger with little thought for the consequences, shockingly kind, fantastically mean. He knows this person can't be real, too many contradictions, too many impossibilities.
Enter Steve Harrington.
Eddie knows Steve. Everyone does. And sure, the guy is hot as hell, but the worst kind of douchebag jock, so Eddie never really considers him worth thinking of. And that would probably continue, but his new Hellfire recruits think the sun shines out of Harrington's ass, and apparently Robin Buckley is his best friend. It doesn't add up and Eddie's usually great at math.
Time passes and he starts to get it. He watches Dustin and Harrington do the dorkiest, nerdiest handshake and the joy that contorts Steve's face. It's so fucking beautiful, Eddie has to look away. He comes upon Harrington and Erica Sinclair bickering, both smart-assing, listens to the way Erica giggles about it once she thinks no one can hear. Or when he watches Steve drop Max Mayfield at home--Max who Eddie has never once seen smile, who he's always been just a little bit afraid of--and she's laughing and teasing him, beaming.
It's inevitable when they become friends. Steve is a wonder. Constantly a surprise. So pretty it's like looking directly at the sun. When Steve tells Eddie that he's bisexual, it drops off his tongue with no hint of unease, no consideration for how he's upending Eddie's world view.
One night they're getting high, just the two of them, and he's asking if Steve wants to shotgun and Steve smirks and leans in, and then they're kissing. Doing way more than kissing.
They keep hooking up, but it's nothing. It's Steve Harrington. Steve Harrington who wants the all-American white picket fence, wife, 2.5 kids, and a dog. Not a dnd playing-metalhead-nerd-witch dude. And if Eddie feels himself growing inexplicably more and more fond, well, he's made damn sure love isn't in the cards for him anymore.
They're laying in Eddie's bed one night, Eddie tracing gentle fingers between the moles and freckles on Steve's back.
"That tickles," Steve murmurs. "What are you doing?"
"Mapping the constellations," he whispers.
Steve's laugh vibrates Eddie's ribcage, as does the rumble of his voice saying, "my mom used to do that when I was a kid. Said she was looking for the big dipper."
He presses his lips against the top of Steve's spine to stop from saying something unkind about his parents, who never loved their absolute gift of a son enough, leaving him lonely and forgotten in that big, cold house. He freezes as soon as he has the thought, remembers that spell. It's nothing, of course. The spell was to repel love, not get Steve Harrington into his bed.
They keep sleeping together, spend almost all their time together. Eddie's enamored but it doesn't matter. Steve isn't his, not really, and never will be. Eddie made sure of it.
But one day Steve comes over and sees this old Casio keyboard Gareth brought over.
Steve flips it on, starts hitting notes; at first dicking around, but then sliding into Clare de Lune.
"You play the piano?" Eddie asks. He knows he has a dopey smile on his face, his heart doing something terrible in his chest even though he's not in love.
"Took lessons until I was ten," Steve smiles up at him, blushing when their eyes meet.
Eddie has to walk away or he's going to do something like drop to one knee and propose. Steve keeps playing, transitioning from Debussy to something infinitely sweeter, so sad it makes Eddie's heart ache.
He stands in the doorway to his bedroom for at least thirty seconds, before storming back into the living room. "What are you playing?" he demands.
It startles Steve, whose fingers still as he looks at Eddie with giant eyes. "Uh, I don't know. It gets stuck in my head sometimes. I thought it was Ozzy or Dio or whatever. It only happens when we're together. You don't recognize it?"
Eddie recognizes it. Eddie recognizes it and Steve shouldn't know it. Eddie didn't write it down , just like he didn't write down the words of the spell.
"Get out," he says. Mean because he's trying not to fall apart.
"What? Eds, what're y--"
"No, you need to leave, Harrington. Right fucking now."
"Eddie, tell me what I did. Let me fix it, please."
"Not on you. But you have to go," Eddie is shaking and Steve's eyes fill with tears.
He doesn't fight, though. His mouth pinches and he shoves his way outside.
Eddie panics and cries, tries to remember as much of that fucking spell as he can before Wayne comes home.
The first words out of Wayne's mouth when he sees Eddie curled up on the couch are, "What'd you do this time, kid?"
He spills it all, every last detail, and Wayne listens in silence, eyebrows peaked.
"It's that Harrington boy?" He asks when the tale is told.
"How'd you know?" Eddie asks.
"Are you kidding me? I see the way you look at each other. You love him?"
Eddie nods, burying his face in his knees. "He doesn't want this, though. He only likes me because I fucking spelled him to."
Wayne rests a hand on Eddie's shoulder. "Kid, I thought I taught you magic better than that. Better go make things right while you can. Then we're going to have a long talk."
Eddie wants to ask what the point is in making it right. It's already too late, after what he's done. Still, he makes the drive to Loch Nora.
Steve opens the door in sweatpants and a stretched out t-shirt, his hair undone. He's sad, Eddie realizes.
"You here to tell me what I did yesterday?"
"Like I said, it wasn't you. Can I come in?"
Steve nods, steps aside.
"Well?" Steve prompts.
Eddie explains exactly what he did four years ago, what it lead them to. When he finishes, he braces for Steve's anger, for yelling. Instead, Steve throws his head back and laughs.
"You're not mad?" Eddie asks. "Or you're so mad that all you can do is laugh?"
"Not mad," Steve confirms.
"Why not? How can you trust me now? Trust this?" He gestures between them.
"I don't know, dude. It's not like you...designed me, or something. I didn't wake up one day when I was fifteen with a bunch of new moles. I told you about my mom. Plus, that would be medically concerning. And I definitely already had crushes on other boys. So, you didn't make me bi."
"What about being kind? What about the kids and being protective?"
Steve just shrugs. "I think a lot of that was due to Nancy, but I guess I can't stay it wasn't the spell."
"You're too calm about this. I took away your free will!"
"Did you?" Steve raises an eyebrow, way too unbothered. "Maybe the spell brought us together. Took a damn long time to do it, but I don't feel like I have no choice in this." He turns more towards Eddie, taking his hands. "I like what we have. But if you don't feel that way, we can end it."
It's Eddie's turn to laugh. "Not feel that way? Harrington, I don't know if you've heard, but you're the man of my dreams. I am, unfortunately, wildly in love with you. I just--this isn't what you want, right? Not forever. You want a wife. Kids. All that shit."
"Who says? We could have a family, Eds, if we want. Hell, we already do! We're raising six kids. And, yeah, maybe I will decide I want a wife and all that one day. I'm 90% sure nothing magical is stopping me. The only thing that is, the thing that matters, is that I want you. Not because of a spell." Steve smiles, face turning a delicious pink. "But because I love you too."
He squeezes his eyes shut to force back the tears that want to fall, kisses Steve instead. Their mouths slide together in perfect sync, and Eddie wants to get lost in it forever; in Steve's lips on his, the snag of his teeth, the way he clutches at Eddie's curls.
When they pull apart, Steve starts laughing again. "I can't believe I'm your perfect man."
"Oh my god," Eddie's face flares with heat. "You have to forget this ever happened. Your ego's too big as it is."
"Nah, this? This I'm remembering forever."
They kiss for a long time before Steve says, "I think I understand why that song was so sad now. You should write us a new one."
Eddie pulls Steve close, thinking that he'll write Steve whatever he wants for the rest of their lifetime.
#steddie#eddie x steve#steve harrington#eddie munson#practical magic au#eddie munson is a witch#wayne munson is a witch#i put a spell on you#spell casting shenanigans#steve harrington is eddie's impossible dream guy#musical spell casting#angst#happy ending#magic#ficlet#one shot#good uncle wayne munson#steve harrington plays the piano
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Not So Unrequited
Steve Harrington wasn’t the douchebag people thought he was.
Well, most people wouldn’t see it that way anyway. But he wasn’t the façade that most people couldn’t see past.
Eddie’s always been a bit of a wild child. Reckless and with a dangerous lack of self preservation instincts, it got him into many a rough spot over the years.
One such rough spot was back in middle school. He’d stupidly flirted with the wrong boy. He didn’t even like him, hadn’t even fully realized that he liked boys Eddie just didn’t always know when to turn his mouth off, or where the line was until he’d already crossed it. But that didn’t matter. It was enough for a group of boys to track him down and beat him up.
He’ll never forget that day. The day he realized being different meant being hated. The day he realized that that liking boys wasn’t allowed in Hawkins.
But also, the day that he met Steve Harrington. He’d apparently heard the hateful words that had been thrown at Eddie as those bigots left him to bleed on the pavement. And he’d crouched down next to him, reached out to gently rub his back.
“Are you ok? Do you want to me to get someone?”
Eddie lifted his head from where he’d buried it in his knees, looked up into those pretty hazel eyes. He shook his head, not sure who he’d even ask for. His dad wouldn’t care, and Uncle Wayne was great but Eddie tried not to burden him with his problems too much. He needed that safe space to run to too much to ruin it.
“Ok…well, I can stay with you. Don’t listen to those guys, they’re jerks. They don’t know anything. I think it’s ok for boys to like boys.”
And just like that Eddie was sure he liked boys. He thought he very much liked this boy.
So yeah. Steve Harrington wasn’t who people thought he was. At least not completely.
—
Once Steve’s graduates, there’s a change in him. He’s…softer somehow. Like he’s let that carefully constructed mask slip. Maybe getting out of school was enough. Maybe his relationship with Wheeler, or said relationship going down in flames, did him some good. For all that it made Eddie want to hurl. Maybe it’s his affection for the group of kids he’s inexplicably pseudo adopted. Whatever it is, it’s nice to see.
Even nicer when Steve starts talking to him.
It starts because some of his kids joined Hellfire and apparently he’s their permanent ride. First just a friendly nod as the kids scramble out of his fancy car. Then he’d smile and wave. Eddie’s embarrassed by how much those stupid little smiles made his heart flutter.
Finally one day he steps out of the car with the kids. Just leans against the roof at first, watching them run into the building with affection. Then he’s turning those eyes to Eddie.
“I hope they behave themselves for you in there.”
“Uh…” Jesus Eddie pull it together. “Heh, yeah. They’re good kids, man.”
Steve’s face is all soft fondness. “They really are. But they can be little shits when they wanna be. If you ever need any help…or, I mean can bring some snacks and shit if you want. Whatever.”
He shrugs like it’s no big deal. Like him even talking to Eddie at all is totally normal.
“Y-yeah sure. I don’t think they’d ever say no to more food. And you, uh…” Eddie can feel his cheeks heat up, “you can probably afford better shit than I can anyway.”
“Oh I wasn’t-Shit I didn’t mean it like that. I just wanted…”
Damn it. Two sentences in and he’s fucked it up. Steve’s giving him big sad eyes like he feels just terrible at the thought of offending Eddie.
“No! I uh…I know you didn’t. Forget I said that. It’s cool of you to offer to help. I know this isn’t exactly your scene.”
Steve laughs. “You’d think that, huh? But the kids love it so what can I do? I gotta admit I was a bit jealous at first, you know?”
What on earth could Steve Harrington have to be jealous of? “Of what?”
“You. Those kids, they worship you man. But then I figured, I don’t know shit about this stuff and it means a lot to them. And they still seem to think I’m not so bad. So I’m just glad they have you.”
“Steve…they’ve been singing your praises since the moment they joined Hellfire. Especially Dustin. You’re their hero.”
Now it’s Steve’s turn to go pink in the cheeks. It’s a good look on him. But then again, what doesn’t look good on him?
They’re interrupted by a loud bang from inside. Eddie just sighs and rolls his eyes.
“I should probably get in there before they burn the place down…” It’s true, but he’s reluctant to let this moment end.
“Yeah. So I’ll be back in like an hour, pizza sound good?”
Eddie blinks at him, confused.
“I mean…snacks yeah? I can grab a few pizzas and some sodas. If you don’t mind me crashing your nerd fest, that is.” He says it with a grin, but his eyes show a hint of worry. Like Eddie would ever say no to him.
“Right, yeah! Yeah pizza’s good.”
With that Steve is off, apparently to fetch Eddie Munson snacks. Well, not him specifically, but he’s included…He feels off kilter, not sure how to deal with this sudden shift, but also a little bit giddy. The kids all tease him about the daze he’s in when he joins them, but when he sits in his makeshift throne he’s in Dungeon Master mode and the game commences.
—
It turns into a semi regular thing. Steve can’t always hang around, but most nights when the club meets he’ll come back by after with food to share before hauling the kiddos back home.
Eddie thought he’d had a crush before. Now that he actually talks to Steve somewhat regularly…the guy is just so fucking sweet. He’s surprisingly dorky, and generous, and he’s so damn good with the kids. Eddie’s heart never stood a chance.
One night he hangs back as the kids pile into his car, slowing when Eddie stops to wave them off like he usually does.
“So…Me and Robin, Robin Buckley? We’re gonna go see a movie tomorrow. Probably get some food.”
“That’s nice.” Eddie says with an unmistakable tone of confusion. Is Steve trying to talk to him about girls? He desperately wants to keep this thing going, their almost kind of friendship, but he’s pretty sure listening to Steve go on about hookups or whatever will actually kill him.
“Yeah…and I figured, she’s kind of a nerd too. Seems like it doomed to surround myself with them. But I think you two would get along. If you wanted to join us?”
Steve has this adorably shy look on his face that makes Eddie’s heart thump almost painfully in his chest. How can a full grown man be so fucking cute? God he wants to say yes so bad, but…
“I don’t know that bringing a third wheel to your date would make her very happy, man.”
“Huh? Me and Robin? Oh god no. We’re, uh…just friends. ‘Platonic with a capital P’ as she puts it. I’m uh…not her type.” He says with a secretive little smirk. Oh no. This might even be worse.
“Not really looking for a set up…”
“Dude. No one’s hooking up with Robin in this situation. I just thought it would be fun and you two could be friends. But it’s no big deal, don’t worry about it.”
Shit. Well now he just feels embarrassed. And a bit like a dick. Steve starts to head back to the car and it’s a sad little wave over his shoulder and Eddie panics.
“No! I mean, yeah. I’m free. Tomorrow.”
Steve turns back and looks up at him from under his lashes. “Yeah?”
“Yeah…I’ll uh…meet you guys there?”
“That’s silly, I can pick you up. No need to waste the gas. I gotta pick Robin up anyway. She doesn’t drive. So I’ll come by tomorrow at like 6?”
Eddie nods dumbly. With a satisfied smile and a nod of his own, Steve finally gets in his car to leave. Eddie hears Dustin’s judgmental “Dude” from the back seat as they pull away and he’s not sure what to make of anything that just happened
—
He spends the next morning on the verge of panic, fidgeting and occasionally pacing. He’s being manic enough that Uncle Wayne shoots him a few concerned looks, but not enough for him to actually confront him which is nice.
Eddie’s not sure what he would say. ‘The painfully straight boy I think I’m a little bit in love with asked me on a not-date with him and his platonic gal pal and I am freaking the fuck out’? Yeah, he’ll pass on that conversation. Wayne may be incredibly chill about the whole gay thing, but Eddie doesn’t think he’d have any clue what to do with that. Eddie sure doesn’t.
Finally there’s a knock at the door (at 6 PM on the dot) that stops his restless motion. For a moment he’s completely, utterly still. Then all that frenetic energy rushes back and pushes him to the door so fast he almost face plants right into it.
When he gets it open, his breath catches in his chest. Steve has traded his dorky little polos for a black button up, top two buttons undone flashing a tantalizing peek at his collarbones. His dark wash jeans are snug in all the right places, and he has on a pair of combat boots that Eddie would’ve thought he’d never be caught dead in. He looks…fucking delectable.
“H-hey. I uh…should I change?”
He hears Uncle Wayne snort from the kitchen and dies a little inside.
“What? No, you look good man. You ready? Robin’s waiting for us.”
Shit did Steve just say he looks good? In his ratty torn jeans and metal band shirt under his usual leather jacket and battle vest, he feels utterly unremarkable. He shudders to think at what they look like next to each other. Too late now, though.
“Yeah, yeah let’s go.” He pokes his head back through the door to see his uncle smirking back at him with one eyebrow raised. So much for not saying anything.
“See you later asshole!”
—
It takes him all of five seconds to figure out why Steve isn’t Robin’s type. He’s pretty sure she clocks him right back, especially once they get out and she eyes the black hanky in his back pocket. He’s dying to ask if Steve knows, but if he doesn’t…
Anyway she actually is a cool chick, if a bit weird. Not like he has any room to talk on that front. They decide to grab food first so they can get acquainted. As soon as they’re seated she’s talking a mile a minute and Eddie struggles to keep up with he lightening fast change of topic but he thinks he’s holding his own pretty well.
Seeing Steve around her is fascinating. For all their differences, Beauty and the Band Geek, they seem to operate on the same wave length. He catches glimpses of silent conversations happening entirely with eyebrows and subtle lip movements. Steve doesn’t say much out loud, seeming content to watch them with a pleased little smile for the most part.
When the check comes, Steve takes it before either of them have a chance to even move.
“I forced you both out tonight, so it’s my treat.” Eddie tries to protest, as does Robin before she shares another eyebrow conversation with Steve and gives in. Then he turns to Eddie with his puppy dog eyes. “Please Eddie, I really want to.”
God damn it, not being able to say no to this man is going to get him in trouble.
“Fine! But I’m getting you back for this.”
The dazzling smile he gets in return makes his heart skip a beat. He’s so utterly fucked.
—
When Uncle Wayne asks him later than night how the movie was with a knowing smile, he just shrugs and says it was fine. The truth is he couldn’t tell you what movie they even picked, never mind how it was. The lights dimmed and he was hyper focused on the man next to him. Their fingers brushed as they both reached for the popcorn, their legs were almost touching, and at one point Steve had leaned over to whisper some comment into his ear and he had to bite his lip to stop any sound from escaping him.
He caught Robin’s teasing grin on their way out. At this point he might as well have “gay for Steve Harrington” stamped across his forehead, he was so transparent. At least the man himself seemed oblivious.
—
Billy Hargrove is exactly the asshole everyone thinks he is. Eddie sees how weirdly focused on Steve, in a way that make his stomach turn.
Eddie’s pretty sure the guy’s queer, but definitely the self hating kind. He looks at Eddie with disgust, calls him a slur a time or two. He knows Billy’s caught the way he looks at Steve and hates him for it. Thinks maybe he’s jealous of it as much as he is disgusted by it. It’s a weird, twisted rivalry over a boy neither one of them could have.
It wasn’t like Eddie thought he had any kind of claim over Steve, he just didn’t like the dark twist to the lustful way Billy looked at him. It scared him. He wasn’t quite sure what Hargrove was capable of or willing to do.
Now that Steve came to his place sometimes, he catches Billy outside his own trailer with a murderous look in his eye. He knows he has to keep a close eye on Steve anytime he comes by, makes sure he leaves safe. He watches his car until the taillights fade, then looks across at Billy’s trailer. He doesn’t think he’d have the guts to try to come after Eddie, Uncle Wayne may be soft spoken but he’s ex military and everyone knew he wouldn’t hesitate to kill someone who hurt Eddie.
But Eddie would have to be the one to protect Steve.
—
So they’re friends now. Like real friends. They don’t just both hang out with the kids at the same time. Sometimes Robin joins them for whatever they decide to get up to, but not always.
The first time he visits them at Scoops Ahoy he nearly chokes on his own tongue. Why would you need shorts that short to sell ice cream?
Then again…if they weren’t friends, Eddie would probably spend a small fortune just to have an excuse to come stare.
He lets out a low whistle. “Helloooo sailor.”
Steve turns a lovely shade of pink and scratches the back of his neck.
“Yeah, yeah laugh it up. Totally lame uniform, I know. But what are you gonna do? You here to take advantage of my perks like the kids?”
“Well I was just gonna hang around and see if you wanted to do something when you got off, but what kind of perks we talking about?”
Steve laughs. “Free ice cream, man. Whatever you want. And yeah, sure. I’m off in about 20 minutes. Robin’s stuck closing so it’ll just be us.”
Eddie feels a little bad being so happy Robin can’t come. He loves hanging out with her, and he loves her dynamic with Steve, but…alone time with Steve.
—
“So when you said ‘do something’, did you have something in mind?”
It’s hard to focus when Steve is still in those shorts. Especially because he’s walking slightly ahead of Eddie, leading the way to where the van is parked beside his car, making it far too easy and enticing to keep stealing glances at just how good his ass looks in said shorts. “Whuh? Oh, uh, no not really. I figured I’d be crashing you and Buckley’s plans so it didn’t really occur to me to think up my own.”
“K, well I don’t know about you but I would kill for some Chinese food right now. I could pick some up and meet you back at yours?”
It occurs to Eddie, not for the first time, that Steve never suggests his own house. He’s not sure what to think of it, but he’s not sure if Steve’s comfortable enough with him for him to ask.
“Yeah, that sounds good. I’m not picky so whatever you wanna get is fine, we can just share?”
“See you there then.”
—
He loves his uncle, but Eddie’s grateful he has the graveyard shift tonight. He doesn’t need to worry about making a fool of himself with an audience. He scrambled around to clean the place up a bit, even changing his sheets then feeling incredibly stupid for doing so.
When he hears a car door slam, he peeks out the window in excitement only for his heart to drop. Billy’s home, and from the looks of it he’s pissed about something. He stomps inside and Eddie decides now is a good time to go out for a smoke and wait for his guest to arrive.
He’s not waiting long. He greets Steve with a smile, trotting over to grab the bag out of his hand so he can get the beer he also picked up and close his door without a struggle.
Steve smiles at him gratefully. “Aren’t you chivalrous?” His voice is teasing, but Eddie still feels his face heat.
“Only the best for you, my king.”
—
Eddie decides it’s time to start Steve’s musical education, so he puts on some Metallica as they eat.
He tries to focus on the music and not stare at Steve’s mouth as he wraps his lips around an egg roll. Or licks a bit of stray sauce from them. He’s not very successful, but what else is new.
When the food is gone and they’re a few beers in each, they lay on the floor of the trailer. Bodies facing opposite directions and their heads side by side, just listening to the music.
“You play guitar, yeah?” Eddie startles out of his daze.
“I do. Even have a band. We have a standing gig every Tuesday.”
“Could I…could I hear you play? I know music is super important to you and uh…shit if it’s totally personal that’s cool, I just thought I could understand it better if I could hear it from you, but really it’s fine-“
“Steve. Chill, it’s fine. I don’t think The Hideout is exactly your kind of place, but I could be persuaded to give you a private show.”
“Yeah?” He looks so pleased that Eddie’s heart stutters in his chest.
“Sure. Maybe not tonight though. I’ve got a decent buzz going, and my coordination’s not the best. I’d hate to make a poor first impression.”
Eddie turns his head to find Steve already facing him. Those pretty hazel eyes blink sleepily back at him.
“You’ve already made quite the impression, I don’t think you could mess it up now. But that’s ok, I can wait.” Then he’s turning his head to let out a jaw cracking yawn. “Sorry, I forget how tired drinking makes me.”
“You a lightweight Stevie? It is getting pretty late, you could…you could stay tonight, if you wanted.”
“I’d hate to impose.”
“I’d hate to wake up to finding out you’ve wrapped your car around a tree. Seriously. Stay.”
Steve giggles, closing his eyes. “So bossy. Whatever you say, Eddie.”
“Alright Sleepyhead, come on, let’s get you to bed before you pass out on my living room floor.”
—
Eddie lends Steve some sweatpants and a well worn band t to change into. He sits on his freshly made bed and ponders if he should sleep on the couch or set himself up on his floor. He doesn’t think Steve is that drunk, but he’d still feel better close by just in case. At least that’s the excuse Eddie would use if anyone asked.
Steve comes back in while he’s laying a blanket out on the floor. Seeing him dressed in Eddie’s clothes stirs a possessive glee in his gut. Apparently that really does it for him.
“What are you doing?”
“Hm? Oh. Setting up on the floor, you can take the bed.”
“But the bed’s big enough…unless you’re uncomfortable sharing?”
Uncomfortable? Kind of…but not for the reasons Steve thinks. More worried that sleeping next to the source of his unrequited love will kill him, or at the very least be an exercise in sexual frustration. He can’t very well say that though.
“No, that’s…I mean yeah, we can share.”
He quickly rushes into the bathroom to change his own clothes and take a moment to collect himself. After a few minutes of deep breathing, he makes his way back to his room to find Steve already curled up under the blankets.
Eddie takes a deep, centering breath before climbing in next to him. He turns out the lights and settles in, leaving as much space between them as he can. Apparently Steve had other ideas though, because suddenly he’s pressed right up against Eddie with his arm thrown around his waist.
“Uh…”
“Oh, shit, sorry man. I’m uh…I get kind of touchy when I drink. I’m a snuggler. But I totally should have asked.” He goes to pull away and before Eddie can think better of it he grabs Steve’s wrist.
“I…I don’t mind. I just wasn’t expecting it, that’s all.”
“You sure?”
“Yes. Go to sleep, Steve.”
He hears a giggle in the darkness before Steve settles back in, this time resting his head on Eddie’s chest. There’s no way he doesn’t hear how fast his heart is beating, but luckily he doesn’t mention it.
Eddie thinks it’s going to be a very long, torturous night, but soon enough he finds himself lulled to sleep by Steve’s deep, even breathing.
—
He wakes to the front door closing, and would’ve paid it no mind if it weren’t for Steve. The other man jolts upright with a look of panic.
Eddie sits up next to him and rubs a soothing hand down his back. “Woah woah, hey, it’s just Uncle Wayne coming home from work. It’s alright.”
For a second Steve looks right through him before blinking into awareness. Then his cheeks flush with embarrassment.
“Yeah, yeah, sorry. Just uh…startled me.”
Eddie continues the gentle patterns his fingers are tracing along Steve’s back. He can’t shake the concern, that reaction too much for just a slight scare. He doesn’t want go jump to conclusions but he has to ask.
“Steve…you can tell me to fuck off if you’re not comfortable answering, but…Why do you never want to go to your house?”
Steve furrows his brows in confusion, clearly not having expected the question. “Oh, uh…shit I’m sorry, of course you’re welcome to come over if you want.”
“That’s not what I meant. Why do you never want to be there?” A little bit of the panic returns to Steve’s eyes. “Shit, I’m sorry. Seriously just tell me to fuck off.”
“No, it’s…it’s fine. No one’s ever asked me that before. I don’t think anyone’s noticed, I try not to make it a big thing. I mean if anyone asks to come over I let them, I just…prefer to be somewhere else.”
Steve pauses, then takes a deep shuddering breath and continues. “My parents…they had a kid because it’s the proper thing to do not out of any actual desire to be parents. So I was meant to be seen but not heard. Always be on my best behavior. Do all the right things, get the perfect grades. Be something they could show off to their friends. I wasn’t very good at it though. I was a sensitive kid, always wanted hugs and cried too easily. Stupid. Always fucking up somehow.”
“Steve…you’re not stupid. You’re not fucking anything up.”
He gets a sad little smile. “Yeah well, they certainly didn’t see if that way. And I guess my dad figured he could beat the stupid out of me. When that didn’t work they left. Traveling. They’d pop in now and again for appearances and to remind me of what a failure I was. Now they don’t come at all. They signed the house over to me. Made a big show of it to their friends, how their son was all grown up and they were so generous to give him a house as a graduation present. I haven’t seen them since. Which is good, I’m glad, I’m tired of trying to be someone I’m not so maybe they’ll finally love me. But I fucking hate that house. It’s huge and empty and filled with bad memories. Sometimes it’s nice when other people come over. Fill it with laughter, make good memories.” He looks up at Eddie through his lashes. “But I didn’t want you-I hate the thought of you in that house. It just doesn’t fit. You’re too fucking good for that place, man.”
Eddie feels his hands shaking with rage. He wants to find Steve’s parents and knock some sense into them. He wants to destroy them for making this amazing man feel like he was worthless.
He also falls even deeper in love. How Steve had managed to stay so soft, so kind in the wake of all of that…sure he’d made himself a mask but underneath it was the man Eddie knew now. The man he’d always known was beneath it. He hates those people so much for making Steve think he had to hide away the best parts of himself.
He throws his arms around Steve, the angle awkward but he doesn’t care.
“Steve…fuck. I need you to hear me, ok? You are the best person I know. You didn’t deserve any of that. You deserve to be loved, to be taken care of.”
He hears a broken sob as Steve’s arms tighten around him and he vows to himself that he will do whatever he can to make this man feel loved.
They stay like that for a while, Steve shifting at some point to basically curl up in Eddie’s lap and just lets himself be held. The quiet little whimpers stop after a while and they just cuddle.
—
They eat breakfast with Uncle Wayne before he heads to bed. Eddie worries that it will be awkward but they seem to get along really well. He can feel his uncles eyes on him more than once, but is too scared to meet his gaze.
Soon enough Steve needs to go get ready for work. It dawns on Eddie that Steve isn’t the rich kid anymore. He has that huge house, but he’s all on his own and has to support himself.
“I’m uh…sorry for crying all over you, man.” He pauses before look at Eddie cautiously. “Please don’t tell anyone. Not about the crying thing, I’m pretty sure everyone’s seen it at some point by now, just all the other stuff.”
It breaks his heart to think how Steve takes such good care of everyone else while no one takes care of him. He doesn’t want to burden the people in his life even though they love him. But Eddie’s here now and he’s going to change that.
“Of course. Your secrets will always be safe with me.”
He walks with him to the door, stopping to lean in the entry way as Steve continues down the steps and to his car. Eddie can’t help but smile at his dorky little wave, but his face drops when he looks up to see Billy watching them, furious. He must know Steve spent the night, clearly he’s making assumptions. A part of Eddie wants to grin lasciviously. To confirm what he only wishes were true. He thinks the better of it, and goes back to watching Steve’s car pull away.
But he can feel those hateful eyes on him until he closes the door.
—
Eddie considers heading up to Scoops a few hours later, but then figures after this morning he should probably give Steve a little space to breathe. He may be desperate to spend every moment in the other man’s presence, but that doesn’t mean the feeling is mutual.
So he ties his hair back into a low, messy bun and tinkers with the van for a bit. She was due for a tune up soon anyway, and getting his hands dirty has always been a good distraction for Eddie. Though today it’s not as successful as it usually is.
His thoughts wander to the place, or person rather, they always do lately. The conversation they had this morning weighs heavily on his mind. He can’t get the image out of his head, of Steve all alone in his way too big house. Or worse, bruised and bleeding at the hands of the ones meant to love and protect him. Eddie’s father was a piece of shit but even he’d never laid a hand on his kid.
Eddie hopes they truly stay gone for good. He’s not sure what he’ll do if he ever sees them.
Once he’s taken care of all he can in the van, he cleans his hands off with an old rag and heads inside. Just in time for the ringing phone to get sent to the answering machine.
“Hey Eddie, uh…it’s Steve. I’m off work soon and I just wanted to see if you were busy. Which clearly you are. So I’m not sure why I’m leaving this message. Shit. Sorry-“
Eddie trips over his own feet in his rush to grab the phone. “Steve! Hey!”
“Oh…hi. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to bug you, if you’re busy I can just call back some other time it’s no big deal.”
“Nah I’m never too busy for you. What’s up?”
“Well I was just…Robin’s got a hot date tonight so she’s blowing me off. I thought maybe you’d wanna do something?”
Eddie grins, tries to keep the joy out of his voice. “Ouch, Harrington, I’m the second choice huh? The back up plan?”
“What? No! No of course not!”
Steve sounds so distraught, Eddie can’t help but laugh.
“I’m just fucking with you it’s fine. Yeah man, wanna come over? I can give you that private concert if you’re still interested.”
“Yeah, that would be great!”
Robins voice interjects in the background, he hears a muffled “stop flirting and get back to work, Dingus, you’ve only got an hour left.”
“Shit, sorry, gotta go before Robin kills me for hiding in the back. I’ll see you in like an hour and a half?”
“Sounds good.”
If Eddie’s heart skips a few beats at the thought that Robin even teasingly saying Steve was flirting with him, that’s no one’s business but his own.
—
Uncle Wayne is up and about when he gets out of the shower. Takes one look at Eddie all clean and fidgety and sees right through him.
“That Harrington boy coming over tonight?”
“Is that…is that alright?” He’s never had to ask to have any company before, but then again the boys he’s had over don’t make repeat visits.
“Eddie, this is your house too and you’re grown. You can have whoever you want come over. I just…you been real happy lately Ed. That boy’s not gonna break your heart, is he?”
Well shit. Eddie doesn’t know what to say.
“We’re just friends.” He hedges.
“That’s what I’m worried about. You’re ‘just friends’ to him maybe. I seen the way you look at him Eddie, you don’t wanna be just friends. Shit I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so gone on someone. Look…I’m not tellin’ you want to do. All I’m saying is be careful.”
“Uncle Wayne…I’m not gonna say I’m not gonna get my heart broken, but I promise it won’t be his fault. He’s not leading me on. Whether I want it or not we are just friends. And I’m ok with that. If he knew-if he thought for a second he was hurting me he’d hate himself for it. So if I’m stupid with my heart and it gets broken, it’s on me, not him.”
His uncle just looks at him searchingly for a long time. Then he shakes his head. “I’m not saying he’s a bad guy. I actually like the kid, much better than anyone else you’ve ever brought home. I’m saying don’t be stupid with your heart. But for what it’s worth, son, that boy looks at you like you hung the moon. So yeah, I know he wouldn’t hurt you on purpose.”
Eddie feels his face flush. He tries so hard not to get his hopes up, he knows Steve is straight, but he imagines him looking at him like that. For a moment he lets himself live in the fantasy where this isn’t one sided. He shakes his head to clear it.
“Thanks Uncle Wayne. Love you.”
His uncle pats him on the shoulder. “Love you too kiddo.” Then he heads to the door to head out for another graveyard shift. As he opens it he smiles. “Hey son, go on it he’s expecting you.”
—
Steve must have stopped at his house before coming over, as he’s no longer in his uniform. He’s forgone his usual polo in favor of a tight black T-shirt with a dark green jacket. He’s also got on dark grey jeans. Eddie can’t help but notice his color pallet has shifted darker in recent months, wonders if it’s his own influence that’s inspired the change.
In any case he looks enticing.
“So I know you said you’d play for me, and I really want you to. But maybe after…Nancy’s throwing this party and that’s what me and Robin were gonna do before she got a better offer. Rob said you probably wouldn’t want to go, but I think the kids are going to make an appearance early on, so I thought maybe…?”
Eddie hesitates. “That wouldn’t be awkward for you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Going to a party hosted by your ex. With her new boyfriend.”
“Oh. No. Nah man me and Nancy are over. Like way over. But she’s a cool chick, and Jonathan’s not a bad guy, so we’ve stayed friends. I’m happy for them.” His cheeks are a lovely shade of pink. “I’ve got my eye elsewhere anyway.” He looks up at Eddie with his pretty hazel eyes and smiles.
Eddie tries to smile back. Thinks he should probably ask who, be a good friend and encourage Steve to go for it. Doesn’t matter who it is, of course they’d say yes. But he can’t. He allows himself to be selfish in this, to protect his heart as much as he can.
“Oh. Cool, then, yeah we can go I guess. We can just head over, I can play my guitar for you any time.”
Steve’s face falls a little, and Eddie tries not to feel guilty.
“Oh…yeah, ok.”
The van is still a bit deconstructed, so they climb into Steve’s car and make their way to the Wheeler house.
—
Eddie’s never been much of a partier, despite what people may think of him. He’s more inclined to smoke and chill at home, or hang with a few friends, than to go to some rager. He’s pretty sure Steve is much the same, at least the Steve who’s let go of his mask.
Needless to say he’s surprised and a bit concerned to see Steve dive headfirst into the alcohol.
“Hey buddy maybe you should slow down a bit? Pace yourself?”
“But it’s a party! Time to drink your troubles away!”
Eddie just shakes his head. Decides he’ll be sober tonight, watch after his little lush.
He chats with the kids for a bit, then mingles about trying to make friends with the other people Steve cares about. Eddie keeps one eye on him as he chats, highly entertained by a man he’s never seen before named Argyle. Then Nancy approaches him when Steve’s more than a few drinks in, all careful concern.
“Is he ok? I’ve never seen him like this.”
Now Eddie is worried. He’d hoped maybe he just didn’t know this side of Steve, but if Nancy thinks this is abnormal behavior…
“I’m not sure. He seemed fine earlier. He uh…he mentioned he’s into someone, maybe he hoped they’d be here and he’s disappointed?”
Nancy shoots him a look of surprise. “Oh, you’re not…huh. Ok. You should maybe talk to him about that. When he sobers up. But for now he’s going outside so you might want to keep an eye on him.”
Eddie looks around, finally spotting Steve slinking out the back. He looks back to Nancy, not really sure what to say, or what she’s trying to say. He settles for a nod before following the other man.
He finds him swinging on a porch swing.
“Hey, whatcha doing out here on your own?”
“S’too loud. Couldn’t find you, so I came out here to get away from the loud. You wanna sit?”
Eddie grins, then joins him on the swing. He kicks off the ground, sending them into a gentle sway.
Steve looks over at him and smiles. “You’ve got such pretty eyes. They’re so big. It’s very distracting. S’hard to think when you look at me with your big doe eyes all soft and pretty like that.”
Eddie has no idea what to do with that. He tries to tease. “Are you flirting with me Harrington?” He gets a manic little laugh in return.
“Have been for months, thanks for noticing!”
“I-What?” Before he can begin to process what Steve just said, he hears a voice that quickly turns the heat in his veins to ice.
“Aww Munson finally got himself a girlfriend. Careful though, that one’s got quite the reputation. But hey, if you don’t mind used goods…”
Steve curls in on himself, looking ashamed and miserable. Eddie curses himself for coming out here alone with just an intoxicated Steve. Friends party or no, they’re still in Hawkins.
“Fuck off Hargrove, go back to whatever hole you crawled out of.”
Billy keeps talking like Eddie hadn’t said anything. “He does have quite the pretty mouth though. What do you say Munson? We can share. I’ll let you fuck that tight little ass while I take his mouth. Bet he’d love it wouldn’t you Stevie?”
Before Eddie consciously realizes he’s decided to move, he’s got Billy on the ground. He’s not a fighter but fueled by protective rage he lands a few punches.
Billy gets his hand on a small potted plant and smashes it against his head and then Eddie is shoved on his back. He blinks the blood out of his vision to see the other man approaching Steve, and one glimpse of those terror filled eyes has him stumbling back to his feet.
As he stands he sees the trowel laying in the garden. He uses it to hit Billy in the back of the head, and as the man falters Eddie knocks him to the ground. Quickly hovering over him, he holds the trowel like a knife against Billy’s throat.
“If you so much as look at him again, I will kill you, do you understand me?” He pauses while Billy just stares at him, face blank. “Do you understand me?!”
“Yes! I understand.”
He stands, still gripping his makeshift weapon, and lets Billy scuttle away. He watches until he’s sure the creep is gone before he lets himself relax, swaying on his feet.
Steve is immediately at his side, tears streaming down his cheeks. He lifts his hand to brush the wetness away. “Hey, you’re ok sweetheart, please don’t cry.”
“I’m not crying for me you idiot! You’re bleeding. Jesus Eddie, I was so scared. I thought he was gonna kill you.” Steve buries his head in Eddie’s shoulder, shaking with sobs.
Eddie shushes him, cradling the back of his head. Thinks back to the moment before Billy interrupted them. He wants so badly to ask if Steve meant what he’d said, but he knows this isn’t the time. Between what just happened and Steve still being drunk…if they were going to talk about this, he needed to be sure it was real.
So for now he just presses a kiss to the top of Steve’s head and holds on tight, reassuring him that they’re both safe now.
—
Once the adrenaline wears off, Eddie becomes aware of the pain. His head is throbbing, there’s a decent chance he has a concussion. Definitely some busted knuckles. His hip aches from where it hit the ground. Could be worse.
Steve may be drunk, but he’s still Steve. He’s unsteady on his feet as he leads Eddie through the house, confidently finding the first aid kit in the bathroom. He sits Eddie down on the toilet and carefully cleans the gashes on his head, bandaging them and giving them each a sloppy kiss when he’s done. Eddie’s hand gets the same treatment, and the sight of Steve gently cradling his hand for a kiss makes his heart ache with want.
Eddie takes his other hand and wipes the tears that start leaking. “It’s ok. I’m ok. I promise it’s going to take a lot more than one slimy creep to take me away from you.” Steve giggles in response. “There’s that pretty smile, much better. No more tears. You wanna head home or do you wanna stick around for a bit longer?”
“Home. I mean…can I stay with you tonight? I know I was just there last night it’s ok if you want your space I don’t mean to be clingy-“
“Steve. You will always be welcome wherever I am. You don’t even have to ask. And there’s not a chance I’d let you go be in that house on your own, not after tonight. Besides, someone needs to make sure you don’t choke on your own tongue in the middle of the night, boozy.”
He stands and keeps Steve’s hand in his bruised grip, leading him out. Nancy spots them and shoots him a questioning and worried look, but he just waves her off. They can explain later.
He get Steve settled in the passenger seat of his own car, before holding his hand out for the keys. Steve just squints up at him, adorably confused, before reaching out to hold hands. Eddie snorts.
“No, you goof, the keys. Unless you want to sleep in your car you’re gonna have to hand ‘em over so I can get us home.”
Steve smiles fondly. “Home…that sounds nice. I wish. But my home’s no good. And I don’t think your uncle would want me to. But it’s where the heart is right?” He clumsily fishes the keys out of his pocket and hands them over. “So m’already there I guess. Don’t think you are though, which sucks. Your house is nice though, so we can go there.”
Eddie laughs. “I’m not really sure what you’re trying to say sweetheart, maybe you can try again in the morning, hm?”
As they pull in next to the van, Eddie glances cautiously across the to the Mayfield/Hargrove home to find it dark and silent. He’s pretty sure Billy won’t bother them anymore, but he won’t be letting his guard down any time soon just the same.
Steve has been drifting the whole drive over, so Eddie gently shakes his shoulder. “Come on pretty boy, let’s get you into bed so you can sleep nice and comfy.”
He groans and grumbles, but he gets out so Eddie counts it as a win. Until he tips dangerously close to face planting. Steve pouts at him like it’s Eddie’s fault he can’t stand up on his own two feet. Eddie wraps Steve’s arm around his shoulder to steady him and tries to shuffle them both forward.
Unfortunately Steve’s feet seem completely unwilling to cooperate. With an eye roll and a heavy sigh, Eddie bends down and scoops his legs out from under him. Steve squeals and almost flails right out of his arms.
“Shhh you’re gonna wake the whole trailer park!” Eddie whispers.
“Sorry, sorry” Steve giggles, “I wasn’t ready. My hero.” He swoons dramatically, then grins and wraps his arms around Eddie’s neck.
Once they get inside he gently places Steve down on the bed. He makes him drink some water, then throws the sweats from the night before on the bed and heads to the bathroom to change into his own.
He comes out to Steve curled up under the covers peeking up at him, suddenly looking shy.
“Eds…thank you. You really are my hero.”
Eddie laughs as he crawls into bed next to him. “I don’t know about that, but either way no thanks needed. You just keep smiling for me pretty thing, that’s all I need.”
Steve lives up to his word and remains a snuggly drunk. As soon as Eddie is settled there’s a body draped across his.
He knows tomorrow they have to talk and he has no idea how it’s going to go, so he enjoys this while he can.
—
Eddie wakes long before he opens his eyes. He can feel Steve’s steady breathing against his neck, an arm draped across his chest. He just wants to stay in this moment as long as possible. Live in this domestic little fantasy of waking up next to he man he loves.
But eventually he feels Steve stirring and knows he can’t delay the inevitable much longer. He opens his eyes and looks down to see Steve already looking back.
“Morning beautiful. Sleep well?”
“Mmm. Feels like I got hit by a bus.”
“That’ll be the hangover. Not too surprising considering how much you drank. You remember much about last night?”
Steve blinks through the haze of sleep and alcohol before his eyes widen.
“Billy. Shit Eddie, are you ok?” His hands come up to gently touch Eddie’s bandaged head.
“I’m fine. I’ve had worse. I may be a lover not a fighter but that didn’t stop the meat heads at school from playing ‘hunt the freak’. Anyway that’s not what I was talking about.”
“What’s more important than some psycho attacking us?”
Eddie hesitates. He’s not sure Steve will want to be snuggled up in bed after he says what he needs to say. “You know what? I can’t have this conversation like this. Come on time to get up. I’ll make you a nice greasy breakfast and get you hydrated. I need coffee.”
Steve gets up, casting nervous glances at Eddie as he heads to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He’s already claimed the spare toothbrush as his, because of course he has. Eddie swipes his own and brushes his teeth at the kitchen sink.
He hears the shower turn on and a part of him relaxes, glad that Steve feels at home enough here to do so.
Eddie may not be a great cook in general, but one thing he does right is breakfast. Bacon, eggs, hash browns, pancakes, French toast…the works. Today he settles for bacon and eggs with some toast. Just as he’s finished plating everything he hears the shower turn off. He gets gets the coffee for himself and puts out orange juice and a Gatorade for Steve.
Steve’s decided to stay in Eddie’s clothes from the night before. He sits across from Eddie looking like he may throw up, but more from nerves than the hangover.
“Eddie…look, I know what this is about and we really don’t have to do this. I can take a hint, it’s fine. I just…I really don’t want to lose you, ok? So it’s fine. We’re good.”
“I uh…I’m not sure we’re having the same conversation here Stevie. Because I have no idea what hint you think you’re taking.”
Steve laughs, but it’s a sad little thing. “Come on Eds, I know you heard me last night. I mean I lied a little, I’ve been trying not to flirt with you for months. But when I told you I had my eye on someone you shut down, you clearly didn’t want to talk about it. And when Billy called me your girlfriend you were mad. Like mad mad.”
“Jesus H Christ Steve you cannot possible think that’s what I was mad about.”
“…What?”
“The implication that we were together, that’s what you thought pissed me off last night? Fucking hell Steve. I was furious because of how he talked about you, because he said we should fucking share you. I wanted to fucking kill that little creep because he was talking about using you. Assaulting you. Jesus. The thought of him looking at you never mind touching you makes my skin crawl. Who cares if he thinks we’re together? I know you were drunk but shit, how the fuck could you think I cared about that?” He’s running his hands through his hair so hard he’s pulling strands out.
“I just…I said I was into someone and I thought you knew I meant you and you were upset, and then that happened and you were even more upset I just thought…”
“I was upset because I thought you were into someone else! Fuck Steve I thought you were straight, I thought you’d found someone and I was going to have to watch someone else make the the love of my life happy and it was going to slowly kill me.”
Steve’s head jerks up so fast from where he’d been staring at the table, it’s a wonder he doesn’t get whiplash. Eddie replays his own words in his head and realizes with horror he said more than he meant to.
“I’m the love of your life?”
And fuck, there’s this soft awed look in Steve’s face. It cracks Eddie right open.
“Fuck it.” He takes a deep breath to steady himself before he closes his eyes and dives head first. Reckless as ever. “I love you. I’m in love with you. Pretty sure I’ve been half in love with you since the day we met, but now? Yeah Steve, you’re the love of my fucking life.”
Before he can steel himself to open his eyes and see the reaction, he feels a hand on the back of his head pulling him and suddenly there’s a mouth against his. Oh. It’s soft, and sweet, and everything he’d ever hoped a first kiss with Steve could be.
It’s over as fast as it began and he leans forward to chase those lips. He feels Steve giggle before a hand at his shoulder stops him. He opens one eye to see Steve all soft and shy.
“You remember the day we met?”
“How could I forget? You were my gay awakening.” He opens his other eye and grins. “Pretty boy like you came to my rescue? I was gone.”
“You’re one to talk. My knight in shining armor.” The hand on his shoulder drops to his own bruised hand, thumb rubbing gently across the still bandaged knuckles. “Shit Eddie you really didn’t know? Everyone knows!”
“Wait what? What do you means everyone knows?”
“Eddie, everyone knows. The kids give me shit all the time. God the first time I tried to asked you to hang out with me and Robin they mocked me the whole drive to Dustin’s because I couldn’t just suck it up and ask you on a proper date. Robin also mocks me because I dressed up and paid like it was a date anyway. Hell Nancy knows….and also mocks me, Jesus I need better friends.”
Eddie laughs a little hysterically. “That explains why Nancy said I should talk to you when I told her you said you liked someone last night. Steve I thought you were straight. Why would I ever think I had a chance?”
“Well I’m bi, for the record. I mean it was me coming out to my parents that was the final straw for them leaving. I just thought you knew. Robbie said you clocked each other from day one. And she knew about me right away so I figured you did too and you were just too nice to say anything about my glaringly obvious crush. But everyone kept telling me to go for it so I thought last night I’d kind of open the door a bit and you slammed it in my face. So instead of having you serenade me and then maybe make out a little at the party I got spectacularly drunk in self pity.”
Eddie grins beatifically. “I can serenade you, baby.”
“Ugh god then there was that. Last night you called me ‘sweetheart’ and ‘pretty’ and I was so confused. You’d never called me pet names before.” He pouts adorably.
“I’ll call you whatever you want, gorgeous, as long as I can call you mine.”
“Oh Eddie, I’ve been yours for a long time.” Steve closes the gap between them once more.
~
I’ve had so many fic ideas in my years in fandom, but this is the first one I’ve actually written. I have like 3 others in progress, all Steddie, so there’s that. Anyway, be gentle. I’ve been writing for forever but this is the first fic and also the first story I’ve ever shared publicly.
I may write a follow up to this one too. We’ll see.
Find me on AO3
#steddie fic#steve x eddie#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#stranger things fic#my fic#good uncle Wayne Munson#idiots in love#Eddie Munson has a crush on Steve Harrington#Steve Harrington has a crush on Eddie Munson#bisexual steve harrington#gay eddie munson#au: no upside down#steve harrington needs a hug#Steve Harrington has bad parents#no beta we die like barb#my stuff
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@thefreakandthehair
Dearest Lex! First of all, happy birthday <3 People like you are once in a lifetime, and I'm so so grateful we've become friends. I tried to pull together a little surprise, I'm sure someone else has already posted theirs, but I scheduled mine to be here bright and early!!
For anyone not in the loop who wants to do something for Lex DM me!!
Link to Ao3
Eddie had never exactly had the best track record with birthdays.
When he had been couch surfing with his mom and dad, there wasn’t exactly time for setting up a birthday party, or money for cake and presents. If he was lucky, his mom would get him a cheap toy car, or a lollipop that she swiped from the gas station — little ways to make the day special. She tried, she really did, but that was mostly at the start.
By ten, she seemed to have forgotten her son even had a birthday, too lost in the drugs to see him waiting for her to notice. Hell, there were even some years where he himself completely missed it. They would pass by somewhere, and Eddie would offhandedly see the date, realizing with a jolt that his birthday had passed days or weeks ago and nothing had changed.
He hated those years most of all.
But…but today was his thirteenth birthday.
He was turning thirteen today, and he was finally in a place he could really call home. He was turning thirteen, and for the first time, Eddie wanted to let himself hope. He let himself day dream about a party with balloons and a cake littered with bright candles. He had thought endlessly about how Thirteen was going to be great, the best year yet. His year.
Eddie had, foolishly, let himself think that things might be better now. After all, Wayne had been nothing but kind to him so far, always wanting to know what Eddie thought and listening when he told wild long winded stories. Wayne was good, and he seemed like the type to make birthdays something special.
He woke up that morning, hope starting to stir in his chest, and it instantly vanished when he threw his arm out to wake his uncle, only to find that the other side of the bed was cold.
Uncle Wayne wasn’t in the room they shared, and when Eddie wandered out, there was a post-it note on the fridge saying that he switched to the day shift, and he wouldn’t be home till 7:00 tonight.
No cake, no presents, not even a card. He hadn’t even written Happy Birthday on the note.
He tried not to be disappointed, tried to reason with himself, because Uncle Wayne might not have even known it was his birthday. He hadn’t even known Eddie existed until a few months ago, how could he know when his birthday was?
But there was a wrathful sad creature writhing in his chest, pressing down on that old wound and making it reopen, telling Eddie that if Wayne actually did love him, he would have known. He would have cared enough to ask.
It wasn’t fair to think that way. His Uncle cared plenty. He had taken Eddie in, given him a home, shared his room and his food and his life when didn’t have to, and Eddie wanted to be grateful for all of that. He was grateful for all of that.
He just also wanted Thirteen to be different.
The rest of the day was the same. Eddie went through school in a daze, barely paying attention to his classes or the assholes all around that liked to make fun of him. No one wished him well, or asked how he felt to be thirteen, and he was almost kind of glad for that.
Because thirteen felt the way that twelve did. It felt the way eleven, ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, and four did too.
Thirteen sucked.
By the time he got out of class and back to the trailer park, it was getting hard to hold back the tears pressing at his eyes. He lept into the trailer and shut the door with a bang, hitting his back against the door and sliding down. He collapsed onto the floor in a heap, sniffling and pressing his palms against his eyes, trying to make them stop before they started.
Eddie had always been a crybaby. It was something his father had absolutely detested about him, something he had tried to beat out of his son time and time again. Those attempts had only made Eddie cry more, which made his father angrier, which started a vicious cycle, which led to scars and nightmares and all of the things Eddie just wanted to forget about.
This wasn’t how Thirteen was supposed to be. He wasn’t supposed to be thinking about the bad things, he wasn’t supposed to be upset.
“Why’re you cryin’ kiddo?”
Eddie immediately startled at the unexpected voice, jumping with a gasp and accidentally smacking his head against the metal door. Now he was really crying, holding the back of his head with both hands and choking on cut off sobs.
Wayne shot up from his easy chair and dashed over. He lifted his arm, probably only intending to help Eddie up, or check the back of his head for a lump.
That wasn’t what Eddie saw. Eddie saw a hand raised his way, and tears on his cheeks, and knew he was about to get punished again for being a stupid crybaby. He flinched back, ducking his head between his legs and waiting.
But no hand ever came. No screaming, no pain. Nothing. Hesitantly, Eddie lifted his head up, watching his uncle with fearful eyes.
Wayne was still as a statue, his arms at his sides. There was a funny look on his face, a strangled kind of shock that looked uncomfortable. Eddie uncurled from his ball, lowering his arms and wrapping them around his knees loosely.
“‘M sorry,” He mumbled, humiliated. This was really turning out to be his worst birthday ever. Wayne chewed on the inside of his cheek for a minute before slowly lowering himself down to the floor, groaning as his knees cracked loudly in the quiet trailer.
“You don’t got to apologize,” Wayne said once he was on the ground. Eddie knew that was true. This wasn’t the first time they had done this particular song and dance, but it was the worst time. Wayne told him the same thing every time- he didn’t have to apologize.
Eddie still felt the need to.
“Sorry,” He repeated, cringing as the word flew out of his mouth. Wayne sucked a deep breath in and let it out in a long sigh, looking around as he contemplated his words.
“Does it help you if I say I’m not angry with you?”
Eddie paused, considering. Whenever Wayne said he didn’t have to apologize, Eddie always felt like he needed to apologize for apologizing. It was silly, and confusing, and made his heart race.
But the thought of knowing that Wayne wasn’t upset made his heart beat just a little bit slower, so Eddie nodded hesitantly. Wayne nodded back, clicking his tongue once and looking Eddie right in the eye, forcing him to look back.
“Then I’m not angry with you. Not even a little bit, Eds,” Wayne said carefully, making sure every word was heard.
It was the little nickname that really made Eddie’s shoulders start to relax. Wayne had started calling him that the third or fourth day after his arrival, and, every time he did it, Eddie felt just a little bit safer.
Wayne let Eddie calm down a bit more, watching him brush away any lingering tears and take long shaking breaths. Then, when he was sure Eddie wasn’t going to fall apart again, he repeated his initial question in a soft, unexpectedly gentle, tone.
“Why were you cryin’?”
Eddie’s cheeks flushed, and he ducked his head. Now that it was over, he felt ridiculous for falling apart like that. It was such a silly thing to get so upset over, and Wayne didn’t need to know.
“I thought you had a shift?” Eddie said, changing the subject while smoothly avoiding the question.
“Got Gordie to take the last three hours. I wanted to be home to surprise you,” Wayne replied.
A blinding rush of hope stabbed Eddie directly in the chest. He despised it for still existing, for not being beaten down by the reality of the life he had lived. Through all of it, he still had hope, he still wanted to believe something better was coming.
Maybe that was stupid. Maybe it was brave. Maybe it was the only thing keeping Eddie alive at this point. He dropped his gaze to the floor between them, trying to gather up his courage.
“Why?” Eddie whispered, unable to look up in case he was wrong.
It was quiet. It was quiet for a long time. Eddie didn’t move, didn’t dare to even breathe too much. He couldn't until he heard the answer.
“...It’s your birthday, kiddo,” Wayne said, each word coming out slow and measured, “You know that, right?”
Wayne knew.
Wayne knew, and he had taken time off, even though they needed the money badly. He had given up those precious few hours just to be here for him. Just because he wanted to.
The lump that had begun to ease out of his throat grew three times as big.
“Then why’re you so surprised that I’d wanna be here?” Wayne wondered, sounding confused, but also sad. Guilt began to bloom in his stomach, but Eddie couldn’t bear the thought of lying right now.
“Didn’t think you knew,” Eddie mumbled, feeling his lashes starting to stick together. The unspoken ‘didn’t think you cared’ sat heavy in the air between them.
Eddie dropped his head between his knees again, hating himself for thinking badly about Wayne. His uncle had done nothing but care for him this entire time, making sacrifice after sacrifice, and Eddie had really thought he would do something as terrible as this? What kind of person was he?
Wayne, unaware of Eddie’s internal battle, spoke slowly, taking his time with each word the way he always did.
“Got it out of the paperwork your social worker sent me,” Wayne said, hesitating for a second before lowering his voice into a whisper before asking his next question.
“Is that what got you all upset?”
This is where it would be smart to lie.
If it was his father, Eddie would have lied.
If it was mother, Eddie would have lied.
If it was anyone but Wayne, Eddie would have lied.
Instead, he gave the tiniest nod he possibly could, taking the risk of falling and hoping his uncle was serious about wanting to catch him.
Wayne sighed heavily, and Eddie raised his head just enough to watch as his uncle shook his head and got to his feet, only walking a few steps before coming to sit next to Eddie by the door.
“I’m sorry. I thought about wakin’ you when I left, but I wanted to let you sleep. I should’ve done that, and I apologize,” Wayne said, lowering his arm around Eddie’s shoulders and tugging him in for a sideways hug.
It always amazed Eddie how quickly Wayne would apologize for things. He had never heard his father say he was sorry, but Wayne did it all the time. If Eddie’s toast was too crunchy, if he was late coming home, every time he thought he misstepped, he said he was sorry. For all the little things, and all the big things too.
It was strange, but it was probably the thing he liked most about living with Wayne. With Wayne, Eddie wasn’t always the one who had done the wrong thing.
“But I had a plan, if you wanted?” Wayne offered, and Eddie nodded his head against Wayne’s shoulder, still not ready to talk.
“Well, I figured we could grab a slice or two, ‘n go to the movies. See that new one you were talkin’ about? Salem’s Somethin’? Thought you might like to see your first official PG 13 movie together,”
“That sounds nice,” Eddie whispered, the smallest trace of a smile gracing his face as Wayne grinned when he spoke.
“Yeah, then after I uh I got you a cupcake? You said you like red velvet, so I tried to get a cake, but the bakery only did cupcakes. I got a chocolate one for me, but I have a candle you can put in it.” Wayne continued, pointing over to the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room. There was a pink box sitting there, tied tightly with white twine that came together in a pretty bow on the top.
Eddie couldn’t even remember talking about his favorite kind of cake with Wayne. But Wayne remembered, and the thought of that flooded him with warmth from the top of his head to the tips of his toes.
He let his legs slide out straight, sitting right next to his uncle’s. His feet only reached about three quarters of the way down his uncle’s calves, but Wayne swore that would change soon. He liked to call Eddie a ‘bean pole in the making’ and that always made him laugh.
“Oh, and I got a present for ya,”
“A present?” Eddie wondered aloud, amazed. The movie and pizza was already so much, and the cupcake was even more. Weren’t those his presents?
“Yeah. Go wait on the couch and close your eyes, alright? Didn’t get a chance to wrap it,” Wayne instructed, briefly stopping to ruffle Eddie’s curls before walking down the hallway to their room.
Eddie stood on slightly shaky legs, walking over to the couch in a daze and sitting in the corner. He closed his eyes, letting the darkness take his vision as he waited, unable to guess what his present might be.
He heard Wayne walk back over, and something heavy was placed in his lap. It was big, really big, and Eddie’s leg began to bounce in anticipation.
“Okay, you can open ‘em,” Wayne said, and Eddie’s eyes flashed open.
There was a guitar case in his lap.
A real life, genuine, honest to god, guitar case.
Eddie stared at it with big bug eyes, every single thought rushing out of his head as fast as they could go. He lifted one trembling hand and put it on the hard plastic, feeling the scratches and grooves with his fingers as he stared down at it.
It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
He lifted it out of his lap, and stood up. Wayne stepped back, and Eddie kneeled down, feeling for the latches and lifting them. The guitar was somehow even better than the case. It was a soft amber wood acoustic, with a few stickers adorning the bottom, and strings that were just starting to fray at the top.
It was perfect. Absolutely perfect.
“Dean, my manager at the plant? He said he was lookin’ to get a new one, so I convinced ‘im to sell me this one. ‘S a little old, and he said it’ll be finicky, but it’s a good starter guitar. Thought you might like to make some music, seein’ as you listen to so much of it,” Wayne explained.
That was a lot more talking than he was used to from his uncle. When Eddie looked up with a wide eyed expression, still unable to speak, Wayne’s strange bout of nerves vanished.
“I know it ain’t much,” Wayne started, hunching in his shoulders, “But-”
“I love it,”
That was Eddie’s voice, but he didn’t think he had spoken. The words weren’t good enough. They would never be good enough. No words would ever be able to even start to explain how Eddie was feeling. He stood up and wrapped his arms tight around his uncle’s middle, burying his face in the man’s chest and trying to hide the treacherous tears that had escaped once more.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you,” Eddie whispered endlessly, wishing that there was something better to say.
Wayne seemed shocked, but he recovered quickly, patting Eddie on the back.
“C’mon now,” Wayne muttered, probably embarrassed by the outburst. Eddie didn’t care. He squeezed even tighter, trying to convey everything he could with a hug, because words were pale in comparison.
Wayne finally resolved to just let Eddie get this out, sighing and wrapping his arms around the boy’s shoulders.
“Alright. You’re alright now,” Wayne whispered, putting his chin on the top of Eddie’s head, knowing he couldn’t do that for very much longer.
And Eddie believed him. For the first time he let himself think things were going to get better without being afraid.
#I KNOW PG13 WASNT A THING YET BUT#I needed it#Happy Birthday Lex!#Eddie munson#Wayne munson#Eddie and wayne#good Uncle Wayne munson#good parent Wayne munson#munson family#baby Eddie#means so much to me#and Wayne is so fucking good#I thought I'd give you some good good hurt comfort#st#stranger things#stranger things 4#st ficlet#stranger things ficlet#stranger things fic#Eddie munson fic#Eddie munson ficlet#Liam speaks up#Writing(withacapitalW)
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Wrong On The Money (45)
part 45 of ?? | 681 words | Teen+
Blackmail fic on Ao3 | on tumblr
Summary:
Eddie spends the next few days walking on air.
I ❤️ Uncle Wayne.
45.
Eddie spends the next few days walking on air.
Sure, they haven’t exactly defined their relationship yet. But he woke up cuddling Steve Harrington, and ever since then they kiss each other silly whenever they’re alone together. There’s even some backing each other into walls or pushing up against doors. And whenever Eddie slips into Steve’s room, he’s always greeted warmly, if sleepily.
Steve likes to be the little spoon. Eddie likes to nuzzle into the finer strands of his thick, glorious hair at the base of his neck and press reverent kisses until one of them falls asleep. It works.
A huge part of Eddie is still shocked that Steve is interested in him at all, after all the shit he’s pulled and some of his dumbass friends’ crap. But he’s starting to get it—to get Steve, and the way he thinks about himself as perpetually making up for his past douchebag tendencies. Which. . . . Yeah. There had been a time or two, or seven (or thirty), where Tommy H. had shoved him into a locker or a trash can or a wall, or any of the other popular kids had made a scathing (if vapid) comment about Eddie or his little sheep, and Steve had just laughed. It hadn’t felt great.
But after Vecna and the Upside Down and nearly being eaten alive by demonic hive mind bats, all that paled in comparison. Eddie keeps telling him that, keeps reassuring him that he’s a good guy, really, because if there’s one thing he can’t stand it’s the injustice of someone undervaluing themselves and letting the world grind them down. (That’s what’s killing the kids, after all.) And if Steve reassures him right back at every turn, well. . . . That’s a surprising bonus that he’s learning to hear right alongside him.
-
Wayne stops him midway through grabbing his van keys to go pick up groceries. “What’s up with you, Ed?”
“Nothing,” Eddie fibs. “I’m just having a good day. You don’t want me to have a good day?”
Wayne raises an eyebrow. “Cut that sass. I ain’t saying you’re in a suspiciously good mood, but I am curious to know what’s made my favorite kid so happy lately.”
Favorite kid, ha. Only kid, in point of fact, and usually Eddie might remind him of that and get called a smartass. He wonders if his uncle has started thinking of Steve as part of the family already.
. . . Oh that stirs up feelings he’s not sure he’s ready for—afraid to be too much for Steve when what they have is so new and fragile. They haven’t even seen each other naked yet, this is not the time to start doodling Mesrrs. Steve & Eddie Harrington-Munson with little black ink hearts around the words in his diary.
As if Wayne can read his mind, the next question is, “You patch things up with Steve?”
Eddie can feel himself blushing, can feel the definitely stupid smile pushing its way onto his face. This is why he tries to put on a front of mean and scary as often as possible, but that has never, not once, worked at home.
“I . . . might have,” he hedges. He doesn’t want to jinx it by saying anything. If it’s spoken into reality then it becomes solid, and solid things can break. Which will probably happen eventually, but he’d like to put that off as long as possible, thanks. At least long enough to get his mouth on more of Steve—
Wait, he shouldn’t daydream in front of Wayne.
Eddie tunes back in to find his uncle giving him an unimpressed stare, a faint uptick at the corner of Wayne’s non-smile that is definitely at his expense. “Well, good. ‘Bout time you boys got your heads outta your asses.”
It’s not until he pulls into the grocery store parking lot that Eddie realizes Wayne might have meant more than just talking—the fucker is perceptive when he wants to be. He just hopes Wayne doesn’t say anything to Steve.
But he wouldn’t, right? No. No way. Where would they be without family loyalty?
#steddie blackmail fic#steddie#steddie fic#eddie munson#wayne munson#good uncle wayne munson#stranger things fic#my fanfic
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This is still sad boy hours for Eddie, but I promise it’ll eventually get better!!
The “Eddie hates his hair -- except he won’t always” series - pt. 1
----
The theater area of the school is full of props and books and left-behind clothes and knick-knacks. Eddie had wanted to join, but his mom told him there was no way his dad would stand for that, and Eddie got the picture. She may not care much what happens to her, but his mom cares about what happens to him, so he listens.
Being here makes that want surface, but then he catches his reflection in a half-covered mirror and remembers why he’s here.
The hat has started to make his hair look worse. It’s lumpy where the mat has started to clump real bad and he couldn’t get the grease stains out of it from when he’d tried the margarine.
Annie’s late. Eddie tries to push down the worry. Annie’s a smart girl, he knows she’ll get past the bullies best she could. But the worst thing for Annie is home, and if Eddie knows one thing, Eddie knows dads.
She’d been wearing her mom’s makeup that morning.
Just as he’s about to pace a rut in the hardwood, Annie walks in, backpack over one shoulder.
“Jesus, Annie! I thought you’d gotten hit by the fuckin’ train!”
Annie glares at him, the slightest bit of her snarky smile showing through her scowl.
“I’ve lived by the train for my whole life Eddie, if I was gonna get hit by it I would’ve gotten hit when I was a kid.”
Eddie groans but laughs at her. It’s hard to stay mad when it’s Annie.
“So…”
Now that she’s here, the mat seems like it’s taken up sentience, like it’s attached itself to his soul and knows it’s about to be taken away. He’s all of a sudden terrified.
“Hey, I know what I’m doing, ok?” Annie walked over to one of the big mirrors with lightbulbs around it like Eddie’s seen in old Hollywood movies. “Sit down and take off your hat.”
It takes for-fucking-ever.
They fall in and out of silence. Eddie tells her all about Middle Earth, about Sam and Frodo and the ring and the journey to make the world better. She’d read The Hobbit a little bit ago, so she listens and asks questions like “why didn’t Bilbo leave just the ring in Erebor?” and Eddie tells her what he thinks. She tells him about the story she’s writing about kids given a quest by an evil old witch who’s really not evil at all, and before they know it, the sun is setting.
“Well, I got, like, the bottom done. What do you think?”
Eddie looks up from his lap. Annie is right behind him, watching his face in the mirror and his hair…
…Looks so much better.
“Oh my God, Annie, I love you.”
“It’s not even done.”
“Yeah but now I can put it in a ponytail to keep it out of my way and I can throw away this fucking hat.”
Eddie squeezes her in a tight hug and she laughs and laughs.
“We’ll meet here after school tomorrow? And I can finish it?”
“Yeah! Just don’t get caught on the wrong side of the train, yeah?”
Annie laughs again and they start their walk. Eddie lives four blocks away from her, and he lives seven blocks from school. He contemplates walking her back, hates that she’s gotta walk alone because she stayed late for him. But she tells him her dad will lose his shit if he sees Eddie and knows she took the hair stuff, so he grips her in another hug and tells her to call him when she gets home.
As they part, Eddie realizes there’s a car sitting in front of the door to their building. His dad is home.
The night is a blur. The morning comes so different from the day before that Eddie almost thinks it was a dream. Eddie’s in the police station, social worker sitting by his side with a clipboard and a massive stack of papers. Eddie feels himself answering her questions but all he can see is his mom’s body on the kitchen floor and his Dad sat at the table, head in his hands, and shattered dishes crunching beneath Eddie’s feet.
They tell him he’s going down to southern Indiana, to live with his uncle. They tell him he’s lucky he’s not going into the system, that he’s lucky he’s leaving the city and the shitty apartment, that he’s lucky he wasn’t home. But he just keeps seeing his mom on the floor and hearing the way his own scream had echoed against the shitty linoleum floor and wonders if someone is going to grab his backpack before he’s taken away.
A garbage back is set at his feet and a police officer gently puts a baseball cap on Eddie’s head. It says IMPD and Eddie feels numb. They don’t let him say goodbye to Annie and Eddie is shuffled into the social worker’s car. They drive and drive, city to suburbs to country to way out nowhere. The social worker, Sherry, tells him the ride is only about an hour and a half, but Eddie doesn’t feel anything, so he doesn’t care.
Hawkins has a cheery little sign as they cross over its border, and the downtown is the size of the block between his old school and the convenience store he and Annie would steal caramels from. The trailer park is on the far side of town. It looks like the one in Kentucky, just smaller. He remembers Wayne faintly, from his earliest faded memories.
He can’t make himself get out of the car when Sherry stops. Wayne is sitting on the couch on the porch smoking, and Eddie feels numb, sees his mom on the floor, hears his own scream.
Wayne comes over, meets Sherry at the foot of the short steps to the front door. They talk for a little, Wayne glancing into the car every few seconds. Sherry pats him on the shoulder then goes into the trailer and Wayne starts walking towards Eddie.
He opens the driver’s side door. Eddie is numb. Wayne looks at him, studying. Eddie can feel that. They wait together in the car until Sherry comes out. Wayne comes to the other side of the car and opens it for Eddie.
“Can I hold your bag for you, kid?”
Eddie grips the garbage bad closer. Wayne lets out a hum and steps back.
“Ok, kid. Come on in, I’ll give you the grand tour.”
Eddie doesn’t really know why he got out of Sherry’s car. Maybe it’s Wayne, maybe it’s the need to keep going, or maybe it’s the barely there, faint feeling, the glimmer he can feel just beyond the sight of his dad, the sight of his mom. It doesn’t really matter, because he does get out of the car, and Wayne doesn’t put a hand on his should even though it looks like he wants to, and Eddie walks in to see a bunch of Wayne’s stuff on the couch and he gets to place his trash bag by the neatly made bed in the trailer’s only bedroom. Wayne lets him have his TV dinner in the room, and when Eddie goes to bed, he presses himself up against the wall, cocooned in the blankets Wayne had piled high, and wants his mom.
#I'd love to hear what y'all think!#stranger things#eddie munson#wayne munson#uncle wayne munson#my oc Annie#eddie's shitty dad#Eddie's favorite swear is fuck#sad boy hours for Eddie#good uncle wayne munson#emotional hurt#the comfort will come later!#my writing#my fic#Willow writes#Willow talks
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Whumptober 2022
( Also posted on my AO3 @/clerifik )
Day 3: Hair’s Breadth from Death
Gun to Temple | "Say goodbye" | Impaled
Hawkins, Indiana. 1977
Eddie collapsed in the middle of his floor, panting, anger still radiating off of him in waves. He could hear his father slamming cupboards from downstairs, shouting about nonsense. That almost made Eddie angrier. Leonard Munson was a vile, vile man who enjoyed stripping others of who they are, picking them apart piece by piece until they were a shell of who they once were.
Eddie seemed to be his favourite victim.
He ran a frustrated hand over his now buzzed scalp, already missing the curls that were there only a meagre 20 minutes ago. Eddie had been keeping his hair tucked back in hoods and beanies since he decided to grow it out; he knew his father wouldn’t like it. He didn’t like anything Eddie did that was out of the realm of normal. Eddie decided to take a leap of faith and wear his hair down in front of him, and Leonard turned red with rage. He dragged him to the bathroom by the ear and buzzed his head, shaming him the whole time.
Eddie despised his father, but he also feared him, so there’s nothing he could do.
He hated how much control his father had over dictating how he thought about himself. He hated how he couldn’t do anything right around him. He hated that his father would much prefer to go hot-wire some cars and drink until he didn't know his own name instead of doing something as simple as watching a goddamn movie with his son. Eddie hated who his father was, and he hated the person that he knew that his father could turn him into.
He picked himself up off the floor and started tidying up the mess he made from his outburst, taking deep controlled breaths in the process. He ripped his Black Sabbath poster down in the heat of the moment, and swore to himself when he realized that he ripped it. That poster was one of his favourite belongings. Tape would have to do.
He remade his bed, and picked up some things he flung off of his desk, and then slumped down on his bed. He didn’t want to be in this house. He was itching for an escape.
There have been a few nights where Leonard has shipped him off to Wayne’s when he doesn’t feel like parenting. What Leonard does could hardly even be considered parenting in the first place. He doesn’t deserve the father title. Wayne has driven across Hawkins in the middle of the night when Leonard has called, not for his own brother’s sake–no, Wayne Munson has a strong distaste for his brother. He did it for Eddie’s sake, just wanting to get his nephew out of the stressful atmosphere.
So here Eddie sat on his bed, trying to listen to the sounds from downstairs to determine when his father fell asleep so he could call Wayne to get him the hell out of there. He himself was tired, so very tired. Dealing with his father was a full time chore, he never knew if he’d be tame or do something like this.
It was exhausting.
It took Eddie twenty minutes to gain the courage to sneak out of his room and down the staircase, cringing internally at the loud creak the steps made. He reached the bottom step and peeked into the living room, a weight lifting off his chest when he saw his father passed out with the rum bottle nearly empty and dangling from his grasp.
He trudged into the kitchen and pulled himself to sit on the counter, feet dangling. At eleven years old, his growth spurt didn’t exactly hit him yet, so he was sitting just under five feet tall. He grabbed the phone and dialed his uncle's phone number from memory. The ring that resonated through the receiver set an anxious pit in Eddie’s stomach, almost like he was nervous that his father could hear it from the other room even though he was passed out cold.
Wayne picked up on the fourth ring. “Leonard,” he greeted gruffly, he sounded like he had just been pulled from sleep and Eddie felt himself growing guilty when he realized that it was eleven-thirty at night.
“Uncle Wayne?” He said quietly. Eddie’s voice came out more fragile and childlike then he would’ve liked it to. Both Eddie and Wayne noticed. Wayne stayed silent for a moment. “Yeah, it’s me, kid. Are you alright?”
Eddie took a deep breath in, swaying his leg a little bit from where it dangled over the counter. He took another quick glance in the direction of the living room. “Can you come get me? I know it’s late, I’m sor-”
Wayne cut him off before he could get the apology out. “Of course,” he said instantly, he heard the jingle of the car keys over the phone. “Are you okay?” Wayne asked again. Eddie nodded to himself. “Yeah I'm fine.”
“Okay, pack a bag with some clothes. I’ll be there soon, Ed,” Wayne assured. Eddie nodded his head. “Thank you.”
“You ain’t gotta thank me for this,” Wayne assured, and then the dial tone was ringing through the receiver.
Eddie hung up the phone and hopped back off the counter, making the trudge back up to his bedroom, cautious again to not wake his father. He made work of throwing clothes into his school bag, then moving to the bathroom to grab his toothbrush. He threw his journal in there too that he used to roughly plan out DnD stuff. He was fairly new to the whole scene, but was invested in learning more about it.
He slipped his jacket over his shoulders, and then turned his bedroom light off and made his way back down stairs. The last step made a creak, and Eddie felt his body go rigid. His father didn’t move from his spot in the recliner, so he sped towards the back door and picked his shoes up. He didn’t want to risk putting them on just yet. He grabbed a house key out of the drawer and slipped it into his pocket, and then slipped out the back door, locking it behind him.
He walked around to the front of the house, careful that he didn’t step or trip over anything in just his sock feet. He made it to the front and sat on the steps outside the door putting his shoes on. Wayne pulled in just as he finished tying the final lace.
Eddie sped over and pulled himself into the passenger seat of the truck, setting his bag at his feet. He looked over at Wayne who had already been staring at him with a grim expression.
Wayne reached over and brushed his hand across the short hair on Eddie’s head. “Oh Eddie...” he said solemnly. He didn’t even have to ask to know that it was Leonard’s fault. Eddie cowered away and pulled the hood of his jacket up over his head. “Can we go, please?”
Wayne didn’t say anything else, but began pulling out of the driveway and back on to the main road. No words were exchanged between the two. Eddie kept his hood tucked tight over his head, and he refused to let his gaze leave the window. Wayne looked over at him a few times worriedly, unbeknownst to Eddie.
Halfway to the trailer park, Eddie’s eyes started drooping. He shuffled himself around a little bit to try and stay awake, but he wasn’t sure how well that was going to work out for him.
“M’sorry for calling so late, I didn’t mean to wake you,” Eddie said suddenly, sleep lacing his voice. He still didn't tear his sluggish gaze from the window.
“It’s okay. You can say goodbye to that. You’re safe now, Ed.”
Eddie relaxed further into the seats with that reassurance. He finally allowed his eyes to slip shut, letting the events of the day slip away. As long as he was with Wayne he’d be safe, and he allowed that thought to carry him into a peaceful sleep.
#good uncle wayne munson#wayne munson fan club#wayne munson#eddie munson#eddie's dad#stranger things#whumptober#whumptober day 3
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As much as I love Eddie Munson knowing that he's flagging and all, I like the idea of him being a young gay guy in a small town and having no experience.
Sure, he knows he is gay but he is also the nerd who plays dnd and stays in re-reading lotr rather than going to a party.
He has no idea that he is flagging. He just thinks it looks metal and it's useful too! He always looses his hair ties, or fiddles with them until they break.
And he's never been to a gay bar even though Indianapolis is only an hours drive away from Hawkins. It's not that he doesn't want to, it's just that he is a little intimidated by it, and doesn't want to go alone. But who would he go with? It's not like he can ask uncle Wayne!
(But Wayne Munson would definitely take his nephew to a gay bar. He'd buy a beer and befriend some elder gays who would absolutely love this grumpy and protective man, while keeping an eye on Eddie who is shyly talking with some other youngsters.)
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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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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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Sequel to Good People - The fic in wherein Wayne doesn't like Steve and overheard a conversation he shouldn't have. Here's the aftermath of that :3
Part One🦇Part Two🦇Final Part
-
Wayne had stayed in his bedroom long after he heard the boys leave. Eddie had knocked on his door to let him know he'd be staying at Steve's and to not expect him back until late tomorrow, a courtesy he'd never shown until after he'd been the victim of a manhunt back in spring. Wayne never asked him to do that but he thinks Eddie picked up on how worried Wayne would get if he were gone for any amount of time.
Eddie's always been good at reading people when he bothers to pay attention to them. Maybe that should have been enough reason for him to give pause to his dislike of the Harrington boy, instead of needing to overhear the boy crying about how he thinks there's something rotten deep within him that only Wayne can sense.
He'd been so sure he knew what kind of person Steve Harrington was. Eddie had been hung up on boys just like him pert-near his whole life, Wayne thinks, and it's never ended differently.
It's a Tuesday night and his friends usually gather at the bar on Friday nights, but Wayne needs to get out of the trailer to think. A beer might help. So, he grabs his keys and heads out.
He's been a regular at this bar since before he was even old enough to drink. Used to come with his pa, may he rest in peace, just to get out of the house. He's been a patron longer than any of the staff have worked there, he realizes.
"Hello Linda," Wayne greets as he takes a seat at the bar instead of at his usual table. He'd done a cursory glace when he came in and confirmed none of his drinking buddies were in before choosing the bar.
"This isn't your usual day," Linda says, leaning a hip on the counter, "but it's always a pleasure to see you."
"I got some thinkin' to do," Wayne replies and Linda nods and moves away, returning soon with a bottle of his usual beer. She picks up the bottle open and removes the cap before setting the drink down in front of him.
"Need a sounding board, hun?" She asks.
Wayne does a quick survey of the bar again but it's pretty quiet so he returns his gave to Linda and says, "if you wouldn't mind too much hearin' about how an old man might have messed up."
Linda laughs. "You aren't even half a decade older than me, so you best not be sprouting that 'old man' nonsense around me, 'cause I am not some old lady."
"Terribly sorry, Linda. I'm just really feelin' like an old fool."
A small frown comes to Linda's face then. "Now what could you have possibly done?"
"Well, I guess I'm tryin' to figure out if I did mess up. Eddie's got a friend and I don't trust 'im. Thought I had good reason not to, but, well, I overheard somethin' I wasn't supposed ta and now I'm not sure."
Linda hums, "hmm, that doesn't sound like you, judging someone unrightly. You are usually a good read about people."
"I'll admit, I haven't bothered to spend enough time with the boy to, uhh, judge him."
"Wayne Munson," Linda scolds, "you best not be telling me you judged that boy because of other people."
Judging by Linda's raising brow line, he thinks his guilt must be clear on his face. "You know Eddie, and how people have treated him. And with what he just went through- I just want 'im safe. Sure, his new friend graduated last year, but he was on the basketball team his whole career. And I'm jus' supposed ta believe this one boy didn't side with the group who started the manhunt?"
"Unless you've got evidence otherwise, yes," Linda says, brows furrowed.
Wayne sighs. "I ain't got proof. I got a lot of people sayin' he's good, actually. But it's the Harrington boy. The same boy Eddie would come home and complain 'bout. Harrington, Hagan, Hargrove, though I shouldn't speak ill of the dead. All them boys treatin' Eddie like he wasn't worth nothin' until they wanted somethin' form him."
Linda's mouth is almost a perfectly straight line with how much she's pursed her lips the more he talks, but she doesn't interrupt and no customer calls for her, so he continues.
"And you know what Richard Harrington was like. I know y'all only shared one school year together, but Janice wasn't any better, and she was your year, wasn't she?" Linda gives him one nod in response. "That boy's a product of them. I- You can't fault me for thinkin' differently."
"So, when do you expect Eddie to end up in prison?"
The question throws Wayne and fills him with anger at the same time. "Now, Linda, I ain't likin' what you are implyin'."
"I ain't implyin' nothing," she says, using the same tone with him that he did with her. "I'm applying your logic. Eddie's a product of his parents, ain't he? Al's in prison, and his mama's long gone, bless her soul. And since Eddie ain't sick, last I heard, he must be following after his daddy."
The anger leaves him then, and all he's left with is shame. "Point made. And if I'm bein' fully honest with ya, I don't even need ya to defend that boy. That thing I overheard. That what's eatin' at me. He called me good people."
Linda softens, shoulders dropping, "you are good people, hun."
"That boy told my Eddie that I'm 'good people', and that his parents are bad ones, and I. I don't know what to do about that."
"He thinks his own parents are bad?"
Wayne nods, "is what he said. Thinks I can somehow sense he's also rotten just by association."
"There's nothing to it, then," Linda says, like they've already talked out the tangled mess that is Wayne's thoughts on Steve Harrington and have reached a conclusion. Well, perhaps Linda already has. She's always been bright, and she's usually right. "You, Wayne Robert Munson, need to apologize to that boy. The guilt and shame's gonna put you into your cups otherwise."
Wayne nods slowly, though he isn't even sure if he agrees or is just acknowledging what she said before he takes a long pull from his bottle before lowering both his arms to rest on the counter as he replies, "You're right as usual, Linda my dear. I just gotta let go of the fact he's Richard Harrington's son and try and see just Steve."
"Damn right. Eddie might be Al's by birth, but you raised him and he turned out alright. Maybe Steve got the same treatment. Had his own Wayne around to raise him right."
There might be a bit of truth to that. He's heard enough talk about Steve Harrington over the years to think that. One of his drinking buddies used to be Jim Hopper. He's heard about the amount of parties he'd had to go shut down at the Harrington's house, with no parents to be seen. (Always Jim's biggest gripe back then. "Where's this kids goddamn parents!?) Wayne always assumed their kid just took advantage every time his parents were gone, but maybe it's the opposite. Maybe they were always gone, and Steve had parties to not be alone in his house.
Linda's right. There is nothing to it. He needs to talk to Steve, properly apologize, and go from there.
"It ain't an easy thing, admittin' you might be wrong," Wayne sighs.
Linda reaches across the counter and places a hand on Wayne's arm just below his wrist. Wayne looks up from where he'd ended up staring at his bottle, making eye contact with her. "If your boy is friends with this boy, it's for a reason. Just give him a chance. You are one of the good ones, but even we can have a lapse in judgment now and then. Doesn't make you bad, makes you human."
"Ain't no one perfect but the good Lord," Wayne says and Linda nods in agreement.
"Alright. I'll leave you to your beer and your thoughts for now, but you best keep me updated on your situation. I wanna know how it goes," Linda retracts her hand and heads down the counter to check on the few other people sitting about nursing drinks.
Wayne sits in his thoughts more than he drinks, so by the time he's done with the beer it's warm but that's fine. He will talk to the Harrington kid, but he wants to talk to Eddie first. He owes his nephew that much, and he does recall Eddie saying something to the effect of 'he'll come around' to Steve, and Wayne wants to tell Eddie he'll try.
Also he doesn't want to just corner the boy after he's been somewhat intimidating intentionally. He's going to get Eddie to ask if Steve'll talk to him.
True to his word, Eddie returns home late the next day. The clock says it's almost 6 when Eddie finally comes through the front door. If he's surprised to see Wayne awake, he doesn't show it. He does work the graveyard shift, and he's got a shift at 10 tonight, usually wakes up two hours before his shift. He'd wanted to make sure he caught Eddie, though, so he's been up since three.
"Eddie, you got a minute?" Wayne says.
"Sure. What's up?" Eddie says as he pulls off his jacket, depositing it on the nearest surface before plopping sideways on the couch so he's facing Wayne.
"I gotta come clean. I overheard some of what you and Steve were talkin' about," Wayne says, because he's a man of his word and he's always been good at doing the hard thing if it also turns out to be the right thing. He's got to be honest with Eddie, so he can be honest with himself. "Heard Harr- Steve talkin' 'bout how he thinks I'm a good person, and his parents aren't."
Eddie's quiet for a moment, blinking owlishly back at him while he thinks. "Oh. Umm. Sorry. I just- I think this is the first time I've heard you say Steve's name."
"Not the part I thought you'd focus on," Wayne huffs a laugh, "but I owe your boy an apology and I was hopin' you could help me make it happen."
"My boy- what is happening," Eddie drops his voice to whisper the question to himself.
"What's happening is I'm doin' the thing I always told you ta do. Taking accountability and fixin' my mistake."
"Oh. Oh!" Eddie narrows his eyes at Wayne, "you've made an ass out of me. All those times I assured Steve you were just being standoffish and you were- what were you doing?"
"Intentionally keepin' the boy at a distance 'cause I thought he was gonna hurt you. I sure as hell ain't been friendly. I been judging him because I knew his parents, thinkin' about how an apple don't fall far from the tree," Wayne stops, giving pause to see if Eddie will speak but he isn't. He's just staring at Wayne like he's a puzzle. "It was brought to my attention that it's mighty unfair to judge someone 'cause of how their parents act."
Eddie's brow furrows and his lips purse. It makes him think of Linda. She'd made the exact same face. "I- Jesus fuck this is weird, but I. I think I'm mad at you. Disappointed."
Eddie doesn't say it with an angry tone, and his face still looks more puzzled than mad, but the sentence feels like a kick to the chest anyway. Eddie and he have never been mad at each other, not in the eight years Eddie's lived here with him. They've been worried and scared for each other that, or mad at someone or something else that they take out on each other, but never mad at each other.
"You've every right to be."
Eddie stands from the couch, paces down the hallway, and Wayne thinks this might be the end of any conversation tonight, but instead Eddie comes storming back up the hall. "So, what, did you take me in expecting me to be my dad!?"
"No. He mighta contributed to your birth, but we both know that man ain't nurtured you a day in his life."
"Yeah, well, Steve's parents didn't raise him either, so all this has been bullshit! You made Steve think he's, he's broken and a bad person! And," Eddie's eyes are wet and he's angry but also about to cry. Wayne hasn't seen him like this in a long time. Not since the day they learned Al was in prison, fifteen years with a chance for parole if he's on his best behavior. Eddie had been so angry, and sad, and hurt by the news. Eddie's like that now, worked up so much he's repeating himself as he hiccups his words out around the lump in this throat, "And, and you made me help him feel that way! Because I didn't take him serious when he said, said you didn't like him! I thought you were being, being a dad, all fake gruff to intimidate the guy I like but it's- you were- FUCK!"
Wayne lets him yell. He deserves it, and Eddie needs it. Eddie's not saying anything untrue. He takes in what Eddie is yelling at him; Steve's parents didn't raise him, and how Wayne's cold shoulder must have added to whatever else Steve has going on in his life.
"I, I h-held him while he b-bawled into my shirt last night! He, he thinks- and you, you didn't even trust me! T-trust my own j-judgment of, of Steve! I, I need- I can't-" Eddie doesn't finish the sentence. He turns on his heel and storms back down the hall, the slamming of his door finalizing this conversation.
To say that Wayne feels terrible is inadequate. He's hurt his boy, and he's hurt his boy's boy, and he's got no one to blame but himself.
Now he's got two apologies to make.
I tried to tag as many people as I could remember that expressed interest in a follow up fic. I am SO sorry if I missed you. Please let me know if you want to be tagged in the final part. I will only be tagging people who ask to be tagged going forward 'cause it's a lot of people to remember and my memory is garbage.
@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems @skepsiss @unclewaynemunson @itsthestrangestthings @emofratboy @devondespresso @finntheehumaneater @loopholesinmydreams @yourmom-isgay @wrenisflying @emsgoodthinkin @messrs-weasley @madigoround @jackiemonroe5512 @gutterflower77 @zerokrox-blog @eriquin @samyuck @lunarmaruna @mugloversonly @kaij-basil-lionelli88
#steddie#my fic#wayne pov#wayne munson#eddie munson#honestly this didnt go the way i thought it would#so there will be a third and final part. Wayne's gonna make it right because he's a good uncle. A good dad.#SPOILER: steve doesnt even show up in this part so im not tagging him
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Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles December challenge.
Beautiful Boys
Prompt Day 23: Wayne Adopts Steve | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Lingering Injuries/Trauma | Tags: Post S4, Eddie Munson Lives, Good Uncle Wayne Munson, Wayne & Steve, Wayne POV
Wayne is in Hawkins Hardware, looking at the fence pickets. He definitely didn't expect them to have this many choices. He figured he'd come in and buy what he needed, from the only option available. In and out. Wallet a little lighter, but no choices to be made.
But, no. There are options. Decisions. And he isn't sure which style Eddie would prefer. He just wants Eddie to have a place he feels safe outdoors, again.
Wayne reaches out to touch the samples, again, when he hears clattering and an "oh my god, I'm so sorry" that sounds an awful lot like Steve Harrington.
Wayne pokes his head around the corner of the aisle, and Steve is gathering up a bunch of swag hooks off the floor, swiping them back into his handbasket.
"What're you doin' with those, kid?" Wayne asks, crouching down to help him.
"Eddie's plants," Steve says, standing back up, pushing his hair back and up, out of his eyes. These boys and their hair they can't keep contained. Wayne smiles. He remembers how his (now long-gone) hair was in the sixties. Different styles, sure, but just as impractical, at times.
"Eddie's plants," Wayne repeats with a smile, then asks, "You're gonna hang them from the ceiling?"
Steve nods, and Wayne grins, "That's a good idea, kid. He'll love that."
Eddie has gathered up a lot of houseplants recently, tending to them, taking care of them, babying them. The first ones were sent to the hospital by his friends, and Eddie latched onto them. And now, Steve drags a new one home every week or two as a gift. Eddie is still recovering, might always be recovering, but his plants make him smile and give him something to do.
Wayne doesn't quite understand it, not with the black thumb he has, but it's like everything else about Eddie. Wayne doesn't have to understand it, to support him. If Eddie wants plants, they can have a whole houseful of them.
Eddie survived something he still hasn't fully explained to Wayne, might never, so if he wants to fill the house with greenery, so be it.
If he wants to fill the house with Steve Harrington, too, that's also just fine by Wayne.
Steve smiles shyly, "If you don't care that I put holes in the ceiling, that is."
Wayne doesn't care. "I'll help. I've got a stud finder, so we won't have them falling and cracking us on the noggin."
Steve laughs, and nods, "Thanks. What are you doing here?"
Wayne waves him over, getting Steve to follow him.
"Trying to pick fencing for the backyard. If Eddie's gonna keep dragging home strays, we'll need a place to put them," Wayne says, and Steve blushes, just a little.
"I could make a tent work," Steve teases, and Wayne squeezes his shoulder. Steve is always, and will always, be welcome in the house.
"Good to know, but I was thinking more along the lines of dogs, cats, raccoons. You know how he is," Wayne drawls, and Steve smiles. It's wishful thinking, because they both know the real reason for the fence. Eddie doesn't want to leave the house these days.
"I just assumed I'd get dog-ears," Wayne says, pointing at the slightly-rounded piece of wood on display. "But there are choices."
Steve studies them all, finally saying "I think Eddie would like the pointed ones the most. Looks dangerous," Steve says.
Wayne nods. He was thinking the same thing.
"They're narrower, be more work to set," Wayne mutters.
Steve turns to look at him, "I'll help you, you know that."
Wayne nods. He knows Steve will. He's a good kid, who spends most of his time hanging out in their new little house, doting on Eddie in one way or another. Wayne isn't blind. He knows what this is, what these boys feel for each other, even if Eddie hasn't told him yet.
He will. Wayne just has to be patient.
"Sounds good, kid," Wayne says, and Steve grins, big and bright. Like he wasn't sure his help would be accepted.
"I don't know much about building a fence, but I can learn. I can follow instructions," Steve assures, and Wayne pats him on the back.
"Let's double-check my math here," Wayne says, pulling a small notepad out of his pocket, rerunning his figures.
Once he's got a good number, Wayne directs them towards the stain options. Steve picks one with a red tint, and Wayne nods. Looks good to him.
When they get to the counter, he takes Steve's basket and adds it to his.
"You don't have to do that," Steve says.
Wayne knows he doesn't, but it's for Eddie and it's just a few dollars worth of hooks and bolts. He's definitely gonna get his money back in fence-building help.
"I know, I want to," Wayne says, opening his wallet.
Outside, Steve helps the guys from the lumber department load up the trailer full of the pickets.
"See you at home?" Wayne questions, and Steve nods and smiles.
"Yeah, at home," he answers, walking towards his car, with his small sack of hardware.
And they spend days hanging the over-abundance of plants in front of every window in the house, so many that it seems like they're living in a greenhouse, and then they work on the fence. Putting it up, picket by picket, together.
Sometimes, Eddie comes and sits on the patio and watches, but it still takes a lot out of him, even now, months later. Wayne's worried he might never fully recover.
But, Steve works hard to entertain Eddie. Steve's funny, and he treats Eddie real good. That's all that will ever matter to Wayne. Eddie's his boy, and by extension, Steve's his boy now, too.
Eddie and Steve fight over the radio, a welcome sound, and Steve's won.
So, John Lennon's singing about a beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful boy.
Wayne knows that feeling well.
He's got two of those beautiful boys, now.
close your eyes,
have no fear,
the monster's gone,
he's on the run
and your daddy's here,
beautiful, beautiful, beautiful,
beautiful boy
John Lennon, Beautiful Boy
If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!
If you want to see more of my entries into this month-long challenge, you can check them out in my Steddie Holiday Drabbles tag, right here!
#steddieholidaydrabbles#wayne adopts steve#wayne munson fic#good uncle wayne munson#wayne munson is always the best#wayne munson & steve harrington#eddie munson lives#steddie#steddie ficlet#wayne munson#steve harrington#eddie munson#thisapplepielife: short fic#thisapplepielife: steddieholidaydrabbles#Spotify
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Steddie Notes Part 7
(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6)
He’s looking up at the most beautiful face in the world, all hard-planed jaw beautiful moles sensual mouth. There are bloody fingerprints on the strong chin and agony warps those sharp features. Eddie loves this face more than anything, so if this is the last thing he sees before he dies, he can’t be mad. Except, he doesn’t understand why Steve is so unhappy. He tries to open his mouth, to ask what’s wrong, what happened, but he’s engulfed in a pain so acute, so mind contorting, that everything goes black.
✏️✏️✏️✏️
He sees two men holding each other. Crying? His ears are thick, stuffed with cotton, no sound penetrating. One of them moves, his face now visible, and Eddie’s heart contracts. Uncle Wayne.
Sound rushes in at the shock of seeing his uncle. His uncle crying. He can hear them now, Wayne’s partially stifled sobs, and a cracked, rough, wavering voice saying through tears, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I tried to keep him safe. I tried—"
“Shhh, my boy, you did your best. I know you did. You brought him back, Steve.”
“But he might—The doctors say—it’s all my fault, Wayne. I did this. I didn’t keep him safe.”
Eddie wants to yell, to get their attention. Can’t stand to see the two men he loves most in the world crying when he’s right here.
✏️✏️✏️✏️
Wayne, asleep with his arms crossed over his chest, in a plastic chair. And Steve—Steve still here, still with him, still waiting for him to wake up. Steve’s left hand twines with one of Eddie’s and he’s propped up just so that he can write and hold a notebook steady at the same time. That’s briefly confusing before he recognizes that it’s a black Composition Book, one of Eddie’s own with a dragon inked in red on the front.
He allows himself to watch Steve, admire the curve of his cheek, the sharpness of his jaw, the lovely moles and freckles across his skin (the nights Eddie spent thinking about kissing each and every one of those marks). His hair is deflated, falling limply over his forehead, but he’s still so beautiful, Eddie almost can’t take it.
✏️✏️✏️✏️
This time is different. He senses it immediately, his head less fuzzy, his fingers able to twitch. He’s like awake awake. There’s a tube in his throat, which fucking sucks, sort of hurts. He wants to claw it out, but that seems extreme.
He doesn’t see Wayne, but he’s not alone, his fingers twisted into someone’s hair, the silken fine strands soft against his palm. Eddie’s eyes drift down to find Steve, head cradled on his arms against the edge of the hospital bed, snoring gently. Eddie can’t stop himself from pressing the flat of his hand into the chestnut locks.
Eddie’s touch has Steve blinking sleepy hazel right before he springs to his feet, “Eddie??” he yelps. Eddie, for his part, opens his mouth to respond, remembers the tube down his throat, and settles for waving.
“Holy shit,” Steve says. He slams the “call” button, then says, “Fuck this, be right back,” and flees into the hall.
Later, when the doctors all leave, Eddie can’t stop the tears that slip free, but Steve is there, holding his hands, crawling into the narrow bed with him to hold him close until they fall asleep, Eddie’s head on Steve’s chest.
✏️✏️✏️✏️
A week later, Eddie wakes up in an empty room. He hasn’t been alone, even once, since regaining consciousness and he has a second of panic before he hears the soft murmur of Steve’s voice from just outside the door. It’s relaxing, and Eddie’s gaze falls to the shockingly blue sky out his window.
He's lucky, he knows. He lived, the murder charges were dropped, he found a group of people to call family.
And Steve. Even if they’re just friends. It’s okay. He’s okay with that. Steve saved his life, stayed by his side, gave Eddie the most love he’s ever had. And that’s good.
He’s so locked into his thoughts he doesn’t realize that Steve’s come back into the room until there’s a Hawkins General branded notepad and pen thumping into his lap.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
“You okay?”
“Just thinking.”
“Good stuff?”
Eddie smiles as he writes. “Yeah.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
“Just that I’m lucky to have you as a friend.”
Steve’s face flushes a pretty pink and maybe Eddie takes it back, being okay with just friends.
“Best friends forever, right?”
It’s Eddie’s turn to blush. “As long as you’ll have me.”
“Forever then.”
He looks at Steve, then, at the flush of his face and the brightness of his eyes and wishes.
“Eds.”
“Yeah?”
“You’re staring.”
“Sorry.”
“No, I like it.”
“Steve,” he whispers. His heart’s going a mile a minute and Steve is looking at him, gazing at him, his whole fucking heart in those hazel eyes.
“I have something for you,” Steve says. It’s careful, like he’s afraid Eddie will spook. He pulls a crumpled sheet of paper from his jacket pocket, smoothing it out, handing it over.
Eddie looks at the note.
“You ever been in love?” it says.
“No, but I think I’m falling,” is the answer
“I love you, Eddie,” is the follow-up. It’s accompanied by an atrocious sketch of a sailor boy and a rockstar holding hands, little asymmetrical valentine’s hearts between them.
Eddie can’t help it, he laughs even as tears fill his eyes. His heart is all twisted up, his mind reeling. This can’t be real. How can this be real.
“Eds?” Steve asks. He’s nervous now, breathy, and oh, he really meant it.
Steve Harrington is in love with Eddie Munson.
Jesus Christ.
“Stevie?” Eddie can’t quite get air into his lungs; he’s so overwhelmed with fondness. “Baby, I love you so much.”
Steve’s crying now. “I’m sorry it took me so long,” he writes.
“You took as much time as you needed, considering I thought you were straight.”
“Me too. Until you.”
“Come here?” Eddie shifts as far over in the hospital bed as he can. He has to have Steve close, has to touch him, has to make sure this is actually happening.
Steve climbs up, gentle in a way that only Steve Harrington can be, and Eddie curls into him, holding the man he loves as tight as he can.
“Can I say that I’m sorry?” Steve asks, mouth against Eddie’s ear.
“Again? I don’t think you have anything else to apologize for.”
“Kissing you that night.”
Eddie raises an eyebrow and Steve seems to catch the misstep, quickly says. “Oh, shit. No, I’m not sorry for the kiss, but for when it happened. You were upset and I thought it might help?”
Eddie giggles, can’t stop it, but cups a hand around the contours of Steve’s cheek.
“It did help. But mayyybe the circumstances weren’t the best.”
“That’s why I’m sorry.” His eyes flick to Eddie’s mouth. “You think I can make up for it now?”
“Please,” Eddie answers, can hardly get the words out, too shocked at how this is his life; that the boy he loves, loves him back.
One of Steve’s hands winds into the hair at the back of Eddie’s skull, and then they’re kissing, soft and slow, and he can’t think of anything aside from Steve Harrington’s gentle chapped lips and the stubble on his jaw and the way his mouth feels around Eddie’s tongue.
They pull apart after a couple of minutes, Eddie already feeling the strain on his battered body. Their foreheads rest against each other, still sharing air.
“I love you,” Eddie whispers.
“Love you more than anything, Eds,” Steve answers, his hold on Eddie tightening, like he'll never, ever let go.
✏️✏️✏️✏️
On a napkin from the Hideout, imprinted with the ring of a glass and half-formed song lyrics:
“What if we owned this place, Stevie? I’ve got ideas.”
“You want to?”
“Been thinking about it. As much as I’m shocked to admit it, we could have a life here. A good one, I think.”
“Whatever you want, babylove. Whatever makes you happy. You know I’ll go wherever you are.”
“Even if we stay in shitty old Hawkins?”
“Even then. Best friends forever, yeah?”
“God, you’re a dork, Harrington”
“The dork you’ve been in love with for three years.”
“I’m having second thoughts.”
“Like hell you are. You’re obsessed with me.”
It ends with a cheeky little sketch of a devil.
On a Hawkins Middle paystub for guidance counselor Steve Harrington:
“Wanna do the one-shot with us when the kids are home for Christmas?”
“Sure”
--
“What?”
“Sure. Sure says Steve Harrington like it’s nothing, like I haven’t asked you to play almost every week for YEARS.”
“Calm down, Munson. Let’s just say you wore me down.”
“I can’t believe you.”
“Paladin, do you think?”
“Are you doing this on purpose?”
“Hmm, what race, though? I want to be something cool.”
“Steve.”
“Huh?”
“Take your fucking clothes off right fucking now”
On a wedding invitation addressed to Steve and Eddie (return address Max Mayfield and Lucas Sinclair):
“Why didn’t you get more milk???”
“Oops, sorry, Stevie. Forgot”
“Well???’
“Oh, you want me to go now. Okay. Back soon.”
“Love you, Eds”
“Love you more, Stevie.”
On scattered bits of paper and detritus across the Munson household:
“Love you, baby”
“Love you more”
“Love you most”
“You’re everything, Munson.”
“Kiss me”
“Always”
“You’re beautiful, Steve Harrington. Can’t believe I get to have this.”
“Love you”
“Love you more”
(BONUS PART)
This is the end of the Steddie Notes saga (though there may be a Steddie Notes-verse surprise coming soon 😈) This part took longer than usual because I wanted to make it perfect. I hope you love it as much as I do!!! I'll be posting this on ao3 soon, if you want to check it out there too (I'll be adding back pieces I cut for length). Thank you all so much for sticking with me! It's been such a pleasure to write and share with you all! 💜💜💜
@gaysonthefloor @little-gae-shit @ineffablecolors @mojowitchcraft @hiscrimsonangel @thegingerrapunzel @adelicioustragedy @mackdaddyofheimlichcountyy @im-sam-fucking-winchester @rainydays35 @gobbledy-gluk-gluk @gay-stranger-things @sherilitchi @gezell-igg @leather-and-freckles @bornonthesavage @ramyayaya @awkwardgravity1 @chaoticvictorianspirit @thosemessyvibes @beeing-stuupid @silentiumdelirium @freyaforestafay @thatbitchgayasf @sapphirecobalt-1 @sahh-dude @adorkfromnewyork @ollie-in-gray @extralegobrick @snapshotmaestro
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#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie notes#part 7#the end?#eddie lives#season 4 au#note passing#mutual pining#getting together#hurt/comfort#good uncle wayne munson#wayne is steve's surrogate dad#happily ever after#love confession#best friends to lovers#scenes in the hospital#steve harrington is in love with eddie munson#glimpses of the future
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"Likewise"
(Steve shows up to Wayne and Eddie's house with all of his belongings on his back and it makes Eddie remember when he was in the same position)
Dedicated to my lovely and wonderful AND awesome friend, Birdie
Read on ao3 here
*
Eddie and Wayne have always been pretty inseparable, since Eddie was 11 and made a trek across Indiana to find him. But after all the Vecna shit happened, after the manhunt and the three week hospital visit, Wayne had been especially clingy. Wayne's version of being clingy is constantly asking Eddie to do mundane things with him, it's intense love and worry and near loss disguised as casual invitations.
Eddie is endeared by it even though he'll play his part: roll his eyes and act annoyed like it's a chore.
This afternoon Wayne had knocked on Eddie's door and asked "Hey Eds wanna come out'n watch the game with me?"
And Eddie flung open the door with a huge sarcastic grin. "Me? A sports ball match TV game? You know I wouldn't miss it for the world, Uncle Wayne!" Wayne scoffed and Eddie grabbed his acoustic guitar so that he could entertain himself while he kept Wayne company in the living room.
Which is where they are now. Eddie is spread across the couch. He's aimlessly moving his fingers around the fretboard until he finds a chord that sounds nice while a sports announcer drones on in the background. Sometimes Eddie will look up to find Wayne in his old recliner watching him instead of the game. Eddie doesn't say anything, just gives him a reassuring smile.
It's raining kind of hard today, which normally would be stressful. Eddie and Wayne would be running around the house with buckets trying to catch water from all the new places the rain was leaking in. But with their shiny new government gifted place, they could sit back and enjoy the weather.
Eddie violently startles when someone knocks on the door. He sets his guitar to the side and Wayne turns the TV volume down. "Who is it?" Eddie calls out while walking towards the door.
"Steve." He hears in response.
When Eddie opens the door he's confronted with a very distraught-looking boyfriend. He looks like he's been crying, he has two dufflebags and a backpack, and he's soaking wet from the rain. Eddie immediately steps back and lets him in.
"Sweetheart, what's going on?" Eddie asks closing the door behind them even though he has a pretty good idea what the bags mean. Steve sniffles and lets his stuff fall to the floor. He startles when he realizes Wayne is in the room too. He's quiet for a few moments, maybe composing himself, Eddie thinks. Always trying to be brave and strong even when he doesn't have to, this one.
"Can I sleep over tonight?" Steve asks like it's taking a lot of effort to do so, even if he's slept over a dozen times already. "My parents... I need a place to stay and Robin's out of town and I felt kinda weird letting any of the kids see me like this" Steve wipes his nose but his sleeve is just as wet and he looks miserable, so Eddie reaches out and wipes Steve's nose with his own sleeve.
"I'm gross, sorry" Steve apologizes.
"Of course you can stay here, Stevie, is that even a question? Let's get you something dry to wear-" Eddie tells him, when he's suddenly and overwhelmingly hit with the dreamy feeling of deja vu. He looks back at Wayne wondering if he's thinking the same thing. Wayne's meets his gaze and his mouth twitches into a half smile.
Eddie grabs Steve's stuff and pulls him into his bedroom. After he sets everything down, he gently runs his hands up under Steve's shirt, until it's all bunched up right under his chin. Eddie pulls the wet fabric over his shoulders and off his arms. Eddie leans forward and plants kisses on each of Steve's perfectly freckled shoulders.
Once Steve is all changed and sat on the foot of the bed, Eddie stands over him and wraps a blanket over his head and shoulders like a little burrito. He looks adorable like this, all cozy.
"You want to talk about what happened, or not yet?" Eddie whispers, to keep the energy in the room gentle and light. Steve shakes his head without thinking and looks up at him for reassurance. Eddie leans down to plant a soft kiss on his lips. "That's okay, Babylove. You know you gave me crazy deja vu walking through that door with your duffle bags in the rain?" Eddie places his hands on either side of Steve's blanketed head.
"When I came to live with Wayne it was raining too. I always thought rain was a bad omen, you know? But then in english class one year, we talked about how in literature, rain is like symbolic of change and new beginnings. And I thought, 'yeah actually that makes a lot of sense'." Eddie speaks quietly while Steve looks up at him, listening. "Do you want to hear the story of how I met Wayne?"
------------------
1977
When Eddie steps out of the school building he sees that the cloudy sky has gotten darker since recess. That's a bad omen, he thinks to himself, but hears it in his dad's southern drawl.
He makes his way towards the front school gates, twisting his backpack strings together, a nervous habit. A swarm of children, mostly younger than him, begin to unlock their bikes from where they're chained and wheel them towards the street. Eddie pushes his way through the crowd to do the same.
He feels kind of sick grabbing the handlebars of a bike he knows full well shouldn't belong to him. He should have known that when he asked his dad for a bike it would have been stolen from some other poor kid. He feels terrible thinking about the night his dad brought it home and put a sticker over where another kid's name was carved into the paint. He shakes his head and rides over to the tree where he promised to meet his best friend, Daniel.
Daniel's already there waiting for him, talking loudly to some kid from the other sixth-grade class.
"See you Monday!" Daniel yells out as the kid hops on his bike and takes off down the street. Daniel has a smile on his face, always has been better at making friends than Eddie. He's a sweet kid, but kind of naïve.
"Hey," Eddie mutters propping his bike against the tree. Daniel turns towards him and his eyes immediately catch on Eddies forehead.
"I still can't get used to you without hair. It's weird." Daniel says petting Eddie's buzzed head. "I kinda think it looked better before."
"Yeah yeah, I already told you my dad made me." Eddie swats his hand away. "Did you ask your brother? About driving me to Hawkins?"
"Oh yeah... he said it's too far. Sorry." Daniel barely looks regretful. Eddie's heart drops.
"What?! But did you tell him I could give him money and weed?" Eddie's starting to panic. If Daniel's older brother Paul, who just got his license wouldn't drive him to Hawkins, he was gonna have to think of a new plan, and fast.
"Oh no I forgot that part, oops. Well he's picking me up in 10 minutes, just ask him yourself." Daniel complains, and Eddie doesn't blame him for not taking it seriously. Daniel doesn't understand the urgency of the situation, Eddie hasn't really told anyone why he needs to get to Hawkins so badly.
Eventually Paul pulls up in front of them, hitting the curb a little which just screams new driver and Eddie grimaces. Beggars can't be choosers, he supposes. He follows Daniel to the car. The kid gracelessly plops into the passenger seat and Eddie leans down to talk to his brother through the open door.
Paul has long blonde hair that makes Eddie miss his own hair desperately and a scar on his lip that he apparently got while skiing one winter. As always, he looks handsome, Eddie admits to himself and tries not to blush. He shakes the thought.
------------------
"Was he more handsome than me?" Steve interrupts Eddie recounting the story. He's pouting.
"Steve," Eddie exhales exasperatedly, "Not even close. Let me finish the story though."
------------------
"Hi Paul."
"Hey kid."
Eddie's face twists up, doesn't want Paul to think of him like a kid.
"Look Paul, I really need your help. I need to see my uncle and I would really be grateful if you could drive me." And before Paul can object Eddie adds, "I have money and weed that I can give you in exchange."
Paul clearly considers this. "How much?"
"How much weed? Uh I dunno a baggie?" Eddie puts his fingers up to demonstrate how much weed he remembers there being in the bag.
"No no, how much money?" Paul chuckles fondly. Meanwhile Daniel is ping ponging his head back and forth between his brother and Eddie.
"I have like forty bucks. I know it's not a ton, and it's a far drive, but this is really important." Eddie pleads. Paul stares out the windshield for a few moments.
"And you wanted to go tonight?" He asks Eddie who nods fervently. "When would you need a ride back?"
And Eddie looks at Daniel who seems bored by the whole ordeal, who is picking at the netting on his backpack. Eddie knows that if this plan works out, he won't be coming back at all. But Daniel's been good to him and Eddie hates disappointing people, so he does what his father taught him to do: he lies.
"I'm sure my uncle will drive me back, s'all good." And Paul nods his head.
"Okay kid. Let me drop Daniel home and I'll come pick you up from your place." And Eddie's heart skyrockets. Okay shit, he's actually doing this.
"Thank you! Thank's Paul. That's cool of you. Thank you." Eddie smiles big, shows all his teeth even though he's still missing a few. Paul nods and Daniel reaches forward to close the door when Eddie realizes this might be the last time he sees his best friend.
"Wait!" Eddie interrupts and grabs the door.
Paul and Daniel look at him worriedly. "Can- can I have a hug before you go?" Eddie asks Daniel shakily. He feels his throat tighten and his eyes go a little blurry. Fuck! He's always so emotional, despite Al's best efforts to chastise the sensitivity out of him.
"I guess." Daniel says, weirded out by Eddie's sudden change of tone. He unbuckles his seat belt and holds his arms out. Eddie fiercely tugs him in and realizes that Daniel can probably feel him shaking now. "But I'll see you Monday right?"
Eddie takes a deep breath, tries to will his voice to come out strong. He pulls back giving Daniel a reassuring smile and a pat on the shoulder. "Yeah man, see you. And see you tonight Paul. Thanks again." And instead of looking Daniel in the eyes again he turns away and grabs "his" bike.
*
Eddie's waiting outside with his bags and a map with directions that he carefully planned out a few nights ago. He's praying to any and all gods that his dad doesn't make it home before Paul get's there. Every time he sees a car turn onto the street he panics and prepares to run.
Despite the bad weather, and Eddie's paranoia, Paul pulls up first and Eddie lets out a huge sigh of relief. Eddie smiles at him and puts his bags in the back seat. The teen looks at him with soft eyes, clearly not as gullible as his kid brother. Knows what's really happening.
"Do you have everything?" Paul asks when Eddie sits in the passenger seat and hands over two twenties and a little bag of weed he stole from his dad's dresser. Eddie nods. "Are you absolutely sure?"
Eddie thinks it would be nice to have a brother like Paul. Never got to know him too well, but he seems to care.
"Yeah man, double and triple checked." Eddie looks into the rear view mirror just in time to see his dad's black pickup truck round the corner. He sinks into the seat. "Shit man, go! Drive!"
Paul startles into action and hits the gas. It doesn't seem like Al notices because he pulls into the parking garage speeding recklessly like he always does. When they're a few streets down, Eddie sits up again and opens the map.
"Am I gonna get arrested for kidnapping you?" Paul worries, wide eyed, as he makes his way towards the highway.
"My dad's afraid of cops. I really doubt he'd call em." Eddie responds before briefing Paul on the directions (ironically) to Hawkins' police station, where hopefully someone will know where his uncle Wayne lives.
*
It's a quiet drive. Eddie finds that he's not sure what to talk to a 16 year old about and would rather pay attention to directions. He can tell Paul wants to ask what he's running from, but refrains, which Eddie's thankful for. When they're about ten minutes out from Hawkins, it starts raining.
Eddie feels guilty that Paul will probably have to drive two hours home in the rain. He voices this concern, but Paul, the saint he is, reassures him it's no big deal.
Eventually they pull up to the police station and Eddie hauls his bags out of the back seat before coming back around to the passenger side door. He leaves the map with Paul and the set of hand written directions on how to get home that Eddie made for him.
"Thanks again for everything, Paul. Drive safely."
"Eddie do you want me to wait to make sure you get where you're going?" He asks softly and Eddie doesn't remember a time where anyone spoke to him with such care. He wants to cry for some reason. Wants to take him up on the offer, but doesn't want to inconvenience the teenager more than he already has.
"I'm okay, but thank you." As soon as Eddie slams the car door shut and turns towards the station, he starts to cry. He hears the gravel crunching as Paul pulls out of the parking lot behind him. Maybe this was all a mistake. He takes a deep breath, wipes his eyes and steps through the glass door.
"Hello, can I help you?," the woman behind the front desk asks, pushing her glasses down to get a good look at Eddie who is dripping rainwater onto the linoleum floor.
"Yeah. I'm here hoping someone knows where Wayne Munson lives? He's my uncle."
The woman holds up a finger and makes her way to a desk in the back of the station. She clears her throat and starts talking to a man.
Eddie shifts his weight as he tries to make out their muffled conversation. He looks up when a tall man sticks his head out and examines Eddie from across the room. The cop nods at the receptionist and grabs keys from his desk.
"You're looking for Wayne Munson?" The man, "Hopper" his badge reads, says while walking over.
------------------
"That's when you first met Hopper?" Steve interrupts again with a small smile. Eddie rolls his eyes, fondly. He nods.
------------------
"Yes sir." He responds to the officer.
Eddie wonders if Al has started looking for him yet. Wonders if Al walked into his room and saw half his belongings gone. Probably not. And even if he did, he'd have no idea where Eddie went. Too uninvolved in Eddie's life to know the names of any of his friends.
"Alright, he lives in the trailer park. Forest Hills. Let me drive you over." Hopper waves his hand and steps into the rain. He opens the passenger seat of his car and ushers Eddie inside.
The thing about this whole situation is that Eddie knows next to nothing about his uncle. Only hears cutting remarks about him from his father once in a blue moon. But it's the kind of cutting remark that might actually mean Wayne's a good person, if it's coming from Al. Eddie only knows he lives in Hawkins, because Al mentioned it once, in passing. "Lives in a little shit hole town no one's ever heard of while I'm out here making it big in the city," he had bragged. But it's not like Al talks enough about Wayne to immediately suspect that this is where Eddie might have ran off to. He's trying to convince himself he's safe now.
*
Eddie is accompanied to Wayne's door by the officer. Hopper knocks aggressively before Eddie can even get it straight in his head what he's gonna say to Wayne. The rain is coming down hard now. He's hugging his canvas duffle bag to his chest, trying to protect his sketchbooks inside from the downpour.
"Wayne Munson? It's Jim Hopper with Hawkins PD. Open up." Hopper announces, knocking again.
And almost immediately after he knocks, the door opens a crack. Eddie sees a man with greying dark brown hair cut close to his head and a patchy beard. Wayne's eyes drop to Eddie almost instantly.
"Can I help you?" Wayne asks. His accent is stronger than Al's, Eddie notices.
"I have a kid here who claims to be your nephew?" Hopper says gruffly, scratching his mustache. Wayne opens the door wider, looking Eddie up and down with wide eyes.
"I'm uh... Al's kid?" Eddie adds quietly. And Wayne's face goes through a variety of emotions before nodding to the officer.
"Thanks Jim, I'll take it from here." Wayne mutters. Eddie watches as the officer tips his head and offers a "stay dry folks," before getting back into his car.
"Come on in, kid," Wayne says opening his door for Eddie to walk past him. Eddie takes in his surroundings. The place is... sad looking. There's hardly any furniture, just a TV and a recliner in front of a coffee table which is covered in empty beer bottles. In the corner of the room there are a handful of boxes, one of which is filled to the brim with different colored mugs. This confuses Eddie a little, but overall Eddie's not getting a good vibe. Probably still better than living with Al though.
He turns back to see Wayne watching him carefully. Eddie clears his throat.
"I'm really sorry to come unannounced like this. I know we don't really know each other, and you don't owe me anything! But I- I didn't know where else to go and I was wondering if maybe it would be okay if I stayed here for a little? I can sleep on the recliner or the floor I don't need much. I just can't- I can't go home." Eddie is shivering now, he's not sure if it's anxiety from the situation or if he's just cold and wet.
Wayne nods his head and reaches his hand out for one of Eddie's bags. "S'alright kid. Let's get you dry." He took Eddie's bags and set them against the wall. He disappears down the hallway leaving Eddie shaking by the door, before reappearing with a towel. Eddie wraps it around himself while Wayne stands and looks around the place, likely, realizing how uninviting it seems to Eddie.
Wayne walks towards the coffee table and starts grabbing empty beer bottles.
"You don't have to clean for me, I don't mind." Eddie says meekly, but Wayne continues on anyways.
"S'alright kid. Why don't you get changed into something dry. Ya have any dry clothes in those bags of yours?" Motioning towards Eddie's belongings with a hand full of bottles. Eddie kneels and unzips one of the bags feeling around for something dry which most of it is. Eddie pulls out a new pair of jeans and a sweatshirt.
"Bathroom?" Eddie asks quietly.
"Down the hall to your left."
*
When Eddie reemerges, the coffee table is clean. And Wayne looks up at him, puts on a smile which seems forced. He must be able to tell by Eddie's face that the smile isn't as reassuring as he was going for. He sighs and scratches the back of his head.
"Should I not have come here?" Eddie asks while stepping out of the hallway and towards the door. He's in desperate need of reassurance, just wants to know if he's safe here or not.
"No! You were right to. I mean Al, is he-" Wayne is searching Eddie's eyes for answers. "Is he hurtin' you?" Wayne crosses his arms but then quickly uncrosses them. Clearly uncomfortable, nervous. And it's making Eddie feel that way too.
"Yeah." Eddie admits into the quiet of the room softened only by the sound of rain pattering against the roof. Wayne exhales and rubs his face.
"Fuckin' bastard." Wayne mutters under his breath. "He's a piece of shit, I'm so sorry kid." Eddie just nods, agreeing. "It's uh... Edward right?" Wayne asks coyly. Eddie wonders when Wayne last talked to Al.
"I go by Eddie," he quickly amends.
"Eddie, alright. It's nice to finally meet you then, Eddie." Wayne roots around in his pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes before thinking better of it and tucking it back into his pocket.
"You can smoke around me, I'm used to it." Eddie shrugs and leans against the wall.
"Yeah well you shouldn't be." Wayne grumbles. He rubs his hands together and claps. "Okay so I only got one bed. I'm gonna wash the sheets and then you can take it tonight. I'll sleep on the recliner there until we figure out somethin' better. That sound okay by you?"
"No! I don't want to take your bed-"
"Just temporarily kid, s'alright. But first let's get you some food. You're as thin as store-bought thread." Wayne grabs a pair of keys off the kitchen counter and jingles them playfully.
"I don't have much around here, so lets go to the diner and then get some groceries on the way back, how's that?" He asks. Eddie nods in agreement.
------------------
"He took me to go get blueberry pancakes. It kinda became a tradition. To get blueberry pancakes any time I had a real bad day." Eddie shares while petting Steve's damp hair.
"What made you leave home that Friday? Before the school year was over?" Steve asks, seemingly distracted from his own problems which is what Eddie was aiming for.
"Al's girlfriend found out I was..." Eddie gestures between the two of them, "you know. She was constantly holding it over my head. Said she was gonna tell him. I didn't want to find out what would happen when she did."
"And he never came looking for you?" Steve furrows his brow. Eddie smooths it over with his thumb.
"I dunno. Maybe he talked to Wayne. But eventually we found out he was sent off to prison for grand theft. He's such a disaster, my god." Eddie sighs and tilts Steve's face up towards him. "Do you want to go get blueberry pancakes, Angel? It's been a day, huh?"
"I'm so sorry to say this, Eds, but I hate blueberry pancakes." Steve shrugs the blanket off his shoulders. Eddie gasps in horror.
"You dare speak ill of my comfort food, Steve Harrington?" Eddie dramatically responds, pushing his forehead against Steve's. Steve smiles and pushes him back.
"I like chocolate chip though." Steve tries to amend. And Eddie nods in understanding.
"Okay princess, let's go get you some chocolate chip pancakes. Can I invite Wayne?" Eddie starts tearing off his pajamas and scrambling around the room for outside clothes.
"Yeah, of course Wayne can come." Steve sighs and lays back on the bed looking much more like himself than he did when he got here.
"'Kay one sec," Eddie pulls on his favorite Judas Priest shirt while he stumbles back out into the living room. "Hey old man?"
Wayne looks up from the TV at Eddie. "Everything alright?" He lowers the volume again, even though it wasn't all that loud to begin with. Wayne always does this, it's like he can't think while something is playing in the background. It's impossible to add commentary when they're watching TV together because he'll either not process what Eddie said or not catch what the TV did.
"Yeah. We were thinking of going to the diner for pancakes, it's been a day. You coming?" Eddie combs his fingers through his hair realizing he probably still has bed head. Wayne looks up at him with shiny eyes.
"I'm proud of you, y'know?" Wayne whispers. This catches Eddie off guard.
"What? For what?" Eddie crosses his arm. Doesn't like when Wayne gets sappy.
"Being a decent kid. Taking care of people the way you do." Wayne gets up and reaches for his keys just like he did in '77. "Real glad you found me when ya did, son."
"Likewise, Uncle Wayne"
#steddie#steddie ficlet#steddie fic#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve x eddie#uncle wayne#wayne munson#wayne munson is a good parent#steddie fluff#steddie fic rec#steddie microfic
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Eddie realizes he's a boy when he's thirteen.
And it's not magical, nor is it mundane, nor is it anything else that the pamphlet he found in the back of the record shop told him it might be.
It just kind of... happens. A few times.
First, he's in the shower.
He's scrubbing himself down with the loofah Wayne bought him, and it tickles and itches and rubs him in all the wrong ways, but he uses it because Wayne spent money on it.
It feels the worst when he scrubs over his chest, but it also kind of feels good.
Feels like he's washing a part of himself away that's unclean. Scrubbing and scrubbing until the skin is raw and red, hoping and praying that it too will come off with the water, drip down the drain with all the other dirty parts of himself.
It doesn't, and so he forgets.
Until his twelfth birthday.
Because there are pink candles on the cake.
There are pink candles on the cake.
And he doesn't know why, and he won't know why until another year after this, but he cries.
He cries until his throat burns and his skin sings with defiance at the feeling of traitorous tears turning his cheeks flushed and blotchy. He cries because it hurts.
He cries because the candles on the cake are pink, and the last birthday party he went to (back in third grade, before his class realized he was a parentless freak) boasted blue candles. Blue for a boy.
He doesn't know why, but he finds himself nauseous at the sight of his own.
Pink. For a girl.
And he doesn't get it, doesn't put two and two together, but he can't stand the sight of them.
He throws the cake to the ground and storms to his room.
And somehow, even though he should be, Wayne isn't mad at him.
He just lets Eddie be for a few hours, and then he returns with a can of soda (even though Eddie's rarely allowed to have any) and a new copy of Lord of the Rings, and he sits at the edge of the bed and says nothing.
Eddie sniffles. Wipes his nose with his sleeve. Apologizes for ruining the cake.
Wayne brushes him off. "I'll do it right next year."
Eddie doesn't know what he means.
(The following year, when Wayne comes out with blue candles on a blue cake, he understands.)
Either way, the realization is neither magical nor mundane. It's not special and it's not not special. It just is.
It goes like this:
He's reading that same copy of Lord of the Rings, sitting in the same bed, wearing the same clothes, and he thinks that he'd like to be like Frodo.
Or Sam.
Or Aragorn.
And he doesn't quite know why, and it doesn't quite matter. He just sits there, and sips at his soda (that he grabbed from the cabinet himself, because Wayne let him), and thinks that he'd like to cut his hair.
(Later, he'll realize that he prefers it long.)
He starts wearing his t-shirts baggier, and his shorts longer. Throws away all the skirts and dresses that never fit him quite right, then later finds some that do.
It's not mundane, and it's not magical. It just kind of is.
Eddie realizes that he's a boy the same way that he realizes he's been breathing his entire life. Constantly, and without effort.
And so he continues on, being a boy and breathing, in that very same way.
He sips his soda, and reads his books, and feels a little sick when he sees the color pink.
Feels better, though, knowing that he belongs to blue.
-
original thread
#stranger things#eddie munson#eddie munson fanfic#stranger things eddie#eddie munson is trans#trans eddie munson#transmasc eddie munson#transgender eddie munson#eddie and wayne munson#good uncle wayne#ftm eddie munson
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Wrong On The Money (46)
part 46 of ?? | 790 words | Teen+
Blackmail fic on Ao3 | on tumblr
Summary:
Nothing can ruin Steve’s mood this week.
46.
Nothing can ruin Steve’s mood this week.
So they haven’t exactly defined their relationship yet, so what? It’s so easy to fall asleep in the safety of Eddie’s arms that Steve feels more rested than he has in years. He’s started wearing chapstick again to combat what all of their making out is doing to his lips, prompting Eddie to kiss him even more—to steal some, he always claims with a devil-may-care smirk. It’s becoming an inside joke.
They have inside jokes. Steve feels giddy from it, from everything. He keeps expecting Eddie to tell him to slow down, that he’s too eager or needy, too much. But if anything Eddie acts like he’s waiting for Steve to tell him the same thing, which is. . . . It goes against every one of Steve’s knee-jerk expectations, but he’s trying to work on that, to accept that Eddie thinks how he thinks and not how Steve expects him to think.
Case in point: Eddie actually likes him, actually wants him, and they're about to run out of new things they can do without taking off more than their shirts. When other people are around they play it cool, not touching much at all, but Steve can feel Eddie’s eyes follow him. He does the same thing, and he’s glad that Robin hasn’t called him on it yet because on top of not wanting to lie to her, he’s bad at it. Omission is hard enough, and he’s kind of bursting to tell someone about what feels like the first great thing to happen to him in years.
-
Wayne stops him a few days in, right after Eddie has left to get groceries. “You settling in alright, Steve?”
A little surprised that Wayne is asking now, after he’s been living here for a while, Steve nods, “Yeah. Yeah, it’s going great. Thanks again for letting me live here, sir—I mean, Wayne.”
That gets him the usual amused snort that Wayne does whenever he defaults too formal, like it’s an inside joke against Richard and Linda Harrington that only Wayne gets to enjoy. Steve doesn’t know too much about that other than Wayne and his dad went to Hawkins High around the same time . . . which could mean a lot of things.
He’s glad it’s nothing terrible enough for Wayne to not give him a chance in spite of who his parents are, though.
Wayne nods, slow and thoughtful as always. “Good. That’s good. And Eddie’s taken care of the apologizin’ that needed doing?”
Steve goes still, unsure. Had Eddie actually . . . actually told someone? About the blackmail? That's the worst part, the real reason he's avoided pouring his heart out to Robin so far. “Uh. . . .”
“There ain’t much that boy can put past me for long,” Wayne says, interpreting his reaction either correctly or close to it. He leans back against the wall, arms crossed loose across his chest, and it’s such an Eddie move that it almost gives Steve vertigo. (It’s always a bit wild to him when people act like family, like in the movies. Totally outside of his personal experience.)
“I guess not,” Steve says. He doesn’t want to feel on edge around Wayne, mostly doesn’t anymore—but this feels so surreal, he doesn’t know what to say. Doesn’t know where to put his feet so as to not step on the invisible vines running through the conversation that he knows instinctively must be there.
Don’t be stupid, he tells himself. It’s just Wayne.
“We’re good now,” Steve tells him. “He’s apologized plenty. More than he needs to, even. It’s like, water under the bridge now, really.”
Wayne is still watching him thoughtfully. After a moment he inclines his head, another gesture that reminds Steve of his nephew. “You know, I heard a fair bit about you before this spring. God knows you probably had to unlearn a lot of shit your daddy pressed into you before getting to the point where you saved Eddie’s life. Do you still feel like you’re making up for any of that?”
Face heating up, Steve feels caught out. He nods.
“Then, might I suggest,” Wayne says calmly, “you let him apologize all he feels he needs to, just the same?”
The words send Steve reeling into a different kind of vertigo. He’s still trying to process the sudden reorientation going on in his head as Wayne pushes off the wall, claps him on the shoulder. Says something about heading out to work and don’t let Eddie burn the meatloaf this time.
“Steve?” Wayne adds before he goes. Steve manages to look up in time to catch a rare, understated smile on his weathered face. “You boys are good for each other. I’m glad you’re getting along, son.”
#steddie blackmail fic#steddie#steddie fic#steve harrington#wayne munson#good uncle wayne munson#stranger things fic#my fanfic
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