#wayne munson comfort
Note
Hi. I’m struggling a lot and I was wondering if you could write a Eddie comfort fic?
Im sorry if that’s too deep. My dad died a year ago and the holidays are really hard. Anyway. I’m sorry this is awkward lol i really like your writing.
hello! first off i am truly deeply sorry for your loss, i hope you are doing well and finding your way through the grief. second of all, thank you so much for this request and for your kind words, and for trusting my ability to at least attempt to do this request justice — i really hope i do. third of all, i'm so sorry you've had to wait and thank you for being patient with me, i wanted to make sure i was in a good headspace to tackle this but also wanted to make sure i got to it before the next holiday. i hope, again, that i do your request justice and that you find comfort in this fic. this is for you, sweet anon!
post divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more
you turn your head at the squeeze of your shoulder, meeting a soft gaze that regards you carefully yet sweetly, big doe eyes that manage to catch your attention and pull it away from your cloudy thoughts. a smile just for you, and you do your best to return it, but eddie’s expression twists a little more into sympathy when it falters on you almost immediately.
“hey. you with me? we can go, if you wanna-“
“i’m alright,” you assure him quickly, resting a hand over his and returning the comforting squeeze. “promise.”
you turn your head away, looking back towards the commotion. steve had put together quite the party, everyone in attendance; you watch him and robin bicker over something likely not that deep, yet both are firmly planted in their views, exchanging exasperated expressions and words that are tinged with humor and desperation. robin sees you watching, waves, and when you only manage a quirk of the corner of your mouth she falters slightly, glancing at eddie and then smiling at you again before turning back to steve.
eddie, who’d kept his eyes on you, meets eye with robin and you feel another squeeze before he leaves your side to approach them. they talk quietly, trying to make it not obvious they were talking about you, but steve’s worried glance your way spills the beans. you can’t help a soft sigh, lowering your head a little.
there’s a moment of guilt. you didn’t want them to feel bad for you. you didn’t want them to worry, least of all eddie; whether you wanted him to or not that boy was going to worry for you. you hold yourself at the middle, can’t help that shrinking feeling, heaviness in your gut.
the three share smiles and nods, and then eddie turns away and heads back to you, keeping his touch light and easy as he fixes a little bit of your hair, “think i’ve hit that time, sweet thing. mind if we head out?”
your heart beats a hard pump and your throat clenches. he so badly doesn’t want to make you feel bad, wants you to feel like it’s on his terms, wants you to feel okay with leaving early. eddie can read you so easily, and you’re both thankful for that and pained by it. you want to tell him again that it’s okay, if he’s really having fun you didn’t mind staying a while longer. but words die on your tongue as he pulls in closer, makes sure his eyes are all you can see, wants you to really hear him.
“it’s okay. i promise.”
just as your eyes start to water, he pecks your forehead and wraps an arm around your shoulders, leans you into him so you can hide yourself there.
“sayonara, goblins!” eddie throws up devil horns and wags his hand, the party bid their goodbyes joyfully behind you as eddie leads you out the front door, helps you up into the passenger seat of the van before driving you to the trailer.
he’d taken you right down to his room, laid down on the sheets and let you lay yourself on him, petting your hair while you hid your face in his neck and vented tears and frustration. when talking becomes too hard he rests lips against your temple and gives soft pecks, murmurs to you gently, reassuring words.
“you’re okay… i’m here… just let it out, baby, that’s it… i’ve got you…”
his love is present in everything he gives you, and even though you feel so empty, eddie is adamant in helping you feel more full with that love. you didn’t have to be okay for him, eddie would always take you as you were; there was never any pressure to put on that mask around him, because to him the mask was glass. he’d learn to see you, through and through, and you him. when everyone else heard ‘i’m fine,’ eddie could hear the ‘please help.’ and eddie would always help.
after a while you’re both sat up on the bed, cheeks since dried and now you were dressed in one of eddie’s baggy old corroded coffin t-shirts and a pair of his ratty plaid sweatpants. you have his headphones over your ears, holding the muffs firmly against you to let the music envelop you. eddie watches with a warm smile and shining eyes.
you see his gaze flit up to something behind you, a grin spreads, but before you can react there’s a light tap on your shoulder. pulling away the headphones and turning, you see wayne standing at the bedside almost shyly, looking right at you and smiling as he holds something behind his back.
“know it’s pretty early but, uhh… seemed like you could use a pick-me-up… thought i’d give you this now…”
from behind his back he procures a small-ish, colorfully wrapped box, offering it to you.
you crack a genuine smile, carefully taking the box and looking up at wayne who nods at you to say ‘go on now, open it up!’
you tear into it with a light giggle, eddie and his uncle watching with bright eyes as from within the box you pull out… one of wayne’s mugs, from the wall. your favorite one.
looking back up at him you swallow another growing knot in your throat, smiling wide but it trembles.
"now you, uhh... you c'n use it here, if you like. that's your special mug now. or-or if you'd wanna bring it home..."
“th- … thank you, wayne.”
he rubs the back of his neck, relieved you like the gift.
“don’t mention it, kid…”
#i really hope it's alright wayne is here too!! i thought of him giving you the mug cause he's not good at words but wants to make you happy#anon i truly hope this is comforting for you and that i did your request justice; i hope you’re doing okay!!!#ty to knucklehoagie for giving me some advice and reading my ramble 🥺🥺#eddie munson#wayne munson#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson request#eddie munson drabble#eddie munson comfort#wayne munson comfort#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader#mine
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𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘
Pairing: Eddie x F!Reader
Summary: Wayne didn't trust you, until one night.
Warnings: angst, fluff, nightmares
Wayne Munson just wanted to protect his boy. And that's why he was so reluctant towards you.
It wasn't that he didn't like you, it was that he didn't trust you: after all the years Eddie had spent almost alone in school, you came in the picture. You, saying you cared about him, saying you were interested in the music he listened to and the books he read, saying you loved him.
It all seemed too perfect and Wayne just knew there was something wrong.
Not because he was a bad person, Wayne absolutely wasn't, but because he was afraid you were playing with Eddie's feelings. He was afraid that one day you'd laugh in his face and tell him there was no way a girl like you could ever love someone like him. An outcast. A cult-leader. A freak.
The worst part was that Eddie, on the other hand, was really in love with you. He could see it by the way he talked about you when you weren't around, by his loving gaze when you visited him at the trailer, by the smile that appeared on his lips whenever he mentioned you in a conversation.
Wayne was afraid Eddie would suffer when you left him.
Because he knew you would. It was just a matter of time.
After what had happened in the upside down, after Eddie had almost died (because yes, he knew the whole truth even if he had a hard time believing it at first) he often woke up due to nightmares.
Often he heard the bed creak as if Eddie was tossing and turning in pain, sometimes he heard him talking but never understood what exactly he was saying. He was probably calling your name, the name of girl he was in love with, poor naive boy.
Once, he opened the door to his room slightly, slowly and asked if everything was all right, watching the figure curled up on the bed, his legs drawn up to his chest in a defensive position.
Even in the dark he could clearly see that Eddie was shaking.
It was pretty obvious that no, he wasn't all right. He was far from it.
Eddie told him to go away, that he was fine. Wayne pressed for a while but Eddie didn't seem to want to talk to him. Finally he closed the door and went back to his room, hoping that giving him the space he wanted would help.
He wasn't sure if it had really helped him when he started hearing muffled sobs coming from his room.
He really didn't know what to do. Eddie should have talked to someone about it, vented in some way but he didn't seem to want to do it with him.
He didn't seem to want to talk about it even with you, his "girlfriend". Wayne had expected this too: You wouldn't be there for his boy when he needed it.
After that night, Eddie had locked the door to his room, so even if Wayne wanted to go inside to check, he couldn't.
One night though, Wayne woke up to a noise coming from the room next to his, from Eddie's room.
He sighed running a hand over his face, tired, knowing he was going to have another sleepless night and that Eddie would too.
Thar time though, he heard the door to Eddie's bedroom open and the sound of bare feet making their way down the hallway where the phone was hanging on the wall.
What the hell was he doing?
Wayne got out of bed and headed for the door to his room but, when he was about to open it, he heard Eddie's voice on the other side of the door and stopped.
He knew eavesdropping was wrong, but that didn't stop him.
"Hey, sweetheart."
Wayne realized Eddie called you. At two in the morning.
"Yeah, yeah I'm fine." Eddie whispered, almost as that was all the voice he could get out at the moment.
"Yeah, don't worry. I just... I think I just wanted to hear your voice. I'm sorry, I'm sure I woke you up. Yeah, I told you I'm fine." Eddie muttered, if his words were to sound convincing, he was failing miserably.
He sounded like a kid scared by a thunderstorm, in moments like that Wayne wished Eddie's mom was still there with him, some things really would've been easier.
“No, that's stupid, I shouldn't even have called, you probably just want to sleep and not worry about my dumb problems. It's just…I'm tired, Y/N. I'm so tired and the nightmares won't stop and I… I don't know what to do. Every time, every night I'm there again and there are the bats and the lightning and- and It's hard to sleep without you. I'm scared Y/N. I'm scared they'll never stop, that I'll never be okay." Eddie sniffed.
Was he crying?
"But it's okay. I mean, yeah, I- don't worry and-" he probably stopped to hear what you were saying.
Were you telling him to go fuck himself for calling in the middle of the night? Were you trying to console him? Wayne couldn't know but either way, he didn't trust you. He had never done that.
"No. You don't have to. No, Y/N, no please, really, I-" Eddie stammered before silence fell on the other side of the door.
You hung up the phone. You hung up the phone on Eddie's face when he needed someone to listen to him and when he trusted you enough to call you and talk about how he was feeling.
Wayne knew it would end like this. You never loved Eddie like you said you did, you didn't even care about him or you wouldn't have hung up the phone. Maybe it was a joke all along, "make the freak your boyfriend, make him fall in love and trust you and then leave him when he needs it most and break his heart."
He knew how mean teenagers could be, they always managed to hit where it hurt the most. And, of course that's what you did with Eddie, you played with his heart that had already been broken too many times for someone so young.
He heard Eddie pacing nervously down the short hallway a couple of times, and just as Wayne was about to walk out of the room despite having no idea what to say, he heard the trailer door open and close.
Eddie went out. And Wayne wasn't going to let him spend the night in the cold or whatever that boy was up to.
The older Munson finally came out of his room and made his way to the door Eddie had disappeared through.
He opened it slightly and looked out, finding himself faced with the most unexpected scene he had imagined.
There you were, your car parked in front of the trailer, the door still open, and you were striding towards Eddie.
The sky was dark and moonless, only a few stars were visible, a nearby street lamp allowed the man to see what was happening.
Wayne leaned against the door frame, watching the scene a few feet away from him.
As soon as you reached Eddie you wrapped your arms around his neck and pushed him towards you, he immediately wrapped his arms around your body in a hug Wayne wondered if it could actually break any bones.
Eddie held on to you as if his life depended on it, squeezing the fabric of your shirt with his hands and closed his eyes, letting out a sigh of relief as he hugged you, as if having you there in that moment solved all his problems, as if Eddie was okay again just because of your presence.
"I'm here. It's okay, I got you." You said holding him, your voice soft and sincere.
That was the moment Wayne realized he was completely wrong about you, all along.
"You didn't have to come." Eddie whispered, not letting you go.
"But I wanted to." You responded by stepping away from him slightly, cupping his face with your hands and running your thumbs on his cheeks.
"I swear, you are something else." Eddie said with a slight smile. "Thank you for coming, really."
And Wayne, seeing you looking at Eddie as if he was the most precious thing in the world, wondered what had been on his mind every time he doubted your sincerity, every time he thought you didn't really care about Eddie.
You went there in the middle of the night because you knew he needed it, and he didn't even ask you. That was all it took to know that you were a good person. That you were there for his boy.
"I love you." He murmured before bringing his lips to yours in a light but affectionate kiss. Wayne had to look down, feeling he was slipping into a too intimate a moment.
"I love you too." You responded leaning your forehead against his. "And I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you, you know that."
"Do you- think you can stay the night? I understand if you can't- if you don't want to- I mean-"
"Eddie, I've come to stay. I wouldn't leave even if you begged me, right now." You reassured him.
He nodded, leaving a kiss on top of your head. "I love you so much."
You smiled grabbing his hand with yours, intertwining your fingers ready to reenter the trailer.
Your eyes met Wayne's still in the doorway.
Eddie's hand squeezed yours tighter as you reached for him.
"She's spending the night here whether you like it or not." Eddie announced to his uncle.
Wayne looked between you and Eddie, then back to you as you started to talk.
"I'm sorry I showed up here in the middle of the night but I can't leave now, I-"
"I'm sorry I didn't trust you." He finally admitted.
A surprised expression came onto your face.
"I was wrong about you, I was wrong from the start." He said leading you into the trailer.
Eddie smiled at his uncle's words.
"It's okay, I understand where all your resilience came from. Really, don't worry about it." You answered with conviction.
Wayne patted your shoulder. "You are a good kid, thank you for being here."
You smiled again. "You don't have to thank me. None of you have to."
Eddie put his arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer to him, up against his Metallica shirt he used to sleep in.
"We're going to sleep, uncle Wayne." Eddie said before heading to his room, dragging you with him.
You turned one last time to Wayne before disappearing behind Eddie's bedroom door. "Good night."
The man's gaze softened even more. "Goodnight kids."
Eddie was in good hands now, he always had been even when Wayne didn't know it.
You were always there, even when Wayne didn't know it. You were family.
Tags: @jacklesdeanvessel @morning-sky7
#eddie munson x reader#eddie x reader#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson angst#eddie munson x y/n#eddie x y/n#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fanfiction#wayne munson#eddie munson hurt/comfort
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Wayne takes in a Beat to Shit Steve Harrington after Starcourt as n Owed Favor to Hopper Part 4
Part Three: link
First Chapter (parts 1-3 on tumblr) on A03: Link
The kid was madder than a wet hen.
Just as slippery as one too, when he got like this--music pulsing like a living thing to signal all his rage and upset.
Not like Wayne hadn’t expected it.
He just wished it wasn’t quite so damn loud.
The music had started up almost immediately after Eddie had stormed to his room, startling Steve awake and nearly making Wayne curse for it.
Normally it was a good thing--music meant Eds was willing to listen instead of heading for the hills.
Normally, they didn't have a house guest who looked like he'd gone ten rounds with a bear.
They had a routine for this, was the thing and the music was a key part of it. It worked all the edges off for Wayne, and he'd long figured out that about thirty minutes was a the perfect length of time for Eddie to stew before he could actually talk things through.
Given the hand Harrington put to his forehead, Wayne wasn't eager to give him that thirty minutes.
Not when Steve deserved little peace he could have.
Unfortunately, so did Eds.
Still.
Strutting through the door and demanding to talk right now was a bad move and so, with a sympathetic look given to Steve, Wayne did what he did best
Gave space.
Let Eddie rage, as Wayne got up and shuffled about the kitchen.
Pulled out the soft earplugs he pretended weren’t there for Eds to steal (playing that damn loud guitar all the time could not be good for his ears) and offered them to Steve, before making two cups of what Wayne privately thought was the Munson “chitchat” drink.
One cup of hot water, one packet swiss miss, a small amount of maple syrup drizzled in, topped with little marshmallows they reserved for these types of situations.
Wayne took his time with it, thinking through what he wanted to say.
‘I understand that this is a screen door on a submarine kind of situation...’
Nope.
‘Son I know you hate listening to anyone for anything but this is serious...’
Absolutely not--that would end up with the boy bolting for sure.
‘Ed’s, I love you but could we please turn Ozzy off while we talk? That man wails louder than any damn cat I have ever met.’
That one was purely self indulgent, mostly because the wall was starting to shake.
Wayne put the finishing touches on the cocoa before staring at both of them.
Perhaps if he stared the Garfield mug in its eyes hard enough, the right words would come through.
They did not.
He kept trying, standing there long enough for the cocoa to reasonably have cooled and for Eddie’s song to flip over to something with more screaming in it than singing.
Wayne supposed that this was the hardest part of being a parent. You just didn’t get to have the magical one liner. The right thing to say at just the right time.
The joke that would ease all the tension and let things progress forward nice and easy.
Instead, you got to fumble your way through the dark with a flashlight up your ass and hope you were going in the right-ish direction. Ideally without making things worse.
Wayne was here though, and that had to count for something.
(Knew it counted for something--because Eddie was still here.
They had cleared hurdles far higher than this when it came to trust. They’d get through this too, come what may.
Steve too.)
“Can I just ask,” Eddie started, aggressive as always when Wayne finally gave in and entered his room, feeling all sorts of awful for the migraine Steve had to have, “what the absolute fuck is happening?”
Sure as fire he was sitting on his bed, leg bouncing a mile a minute.
An unlit cigarette hung between two fingers, looking a little chewed on, but otherwise undisturbed--as it should be, because one of Wayne’s few rules was that smoke stayed outside the house.
“You could.” Wayne said loudly but agreeably, as he turned himself around and dropped down next to his kid.
Held out the Garfield mug, and was happy when it was taken from him.
“Figured you might have other things to say, though.”
Likely a lot of things.
It was as good an opening as any, and his kid didn’t disappoint, launching right to it.
“Why is he here and not at a hospital?”
‘Here’ was punctuated by Ed’s hand winging towards the door, and while it wasn’t the righteous fury Wayne expected, it was at least, an easy answer to give.
“Steve has some people looking for him. Bad people. Hospital makes him an easy target.”
Wayne was still talking loud. Could only hear Eddie himself because he was looking at the kid’s lips more than he was actually hearing his voice.
Eddie took that in, swallowing it about as well as he’d swallowed anything he hadn’t liked.
And thank the stars above, he finally reached a hand out and turned the music down. Not a lot--Steve wouldn’t be able to hear them over all this--but enough that Wayne didn’t have to struggle.
“We’re hiding him from the cops now?!” Ed’s spat.
“Cops know he’s here. Hopper’s the one who asked me to take him.” Wayne reminded him, because it was the truth.
Not the full truth, but given how Ed’s pissed off half the local PD on a good day, Wayne absolutely did not want to see his nephew take on Federal Agents.
(Particularly not the kind who were going ‘round killing kids.)
“So--what?” Eddie yanked hard on his hair, a gesture that looked less intentional and more like he was trying to fight his own anger down. “Hopper just called you up and said ‘Hey, we had a whoopsie with the rich kid, the hospital’s not safe anymore. Can we stash him with you for a few days?”
Wayne nodded once, slow-like.
Always remembered how too fast movements had made Eddie flinch and jerk back when was littler, and given the way Steve was looking, figured it was a good time to be cautious again.
“He did.”
“And you just--agreed? Just like that!?”
“I did.”
He pretended not to see Eddie boggle at him at the simple admission, so furious that he seemed to struggle for words when he normally had too many to say.
Wayne took advantage.
“We did talk a bit more than that, I’ll admit.”
Ed’s scoffed. “About the weather I’m sure.”
“‘Bout trust.”
Eddie blinked at that.
“Trust.” He echoed flatly.
“What have I always told you? People like to ask you to trust them, but you they don’t get to have it until--”
“They provide proof or a reason.” Eddie finished with an eyeroll. “So which did Hopper provide then?”
Wayne took a noisy sip of his coca. Smacked his lips a little before saying: “Both.”
Didn’t bother to say anything else, because he knew Eddie would finish the thought for him.
“One of them was me, wasn’t it.”
Eds didn’t say it like a question, but Wayne hummed in agreement anyway.
He wasn’t gonna shame his boy, but he wasn’t gonna sugar coat Eddie’s involvement in this either. Not when he’d already admitted that was half the reason Hopper had gone to Wayne to begin with.
“No one is expecting Steve to be here.” He said, seeing the chance to hammer home the most important part of this entire shitshow. “So long as no one finds out he’s here, he’ll be safe. Everyone will be safe.”
Steve from the Feds who were hunting him for while he was busy being involved in shit he couldn’t control and Eddie because he had a mouth that most people didn’t like.
Not small town people anyway, and absolutely not authority figures with guns.
“Who’s even after him?” Eddie was theatrical as always, hands waving away as he talked. “Did he make a deal with the mob? Piss off some other rich guy? I know it’s not anything drug related, I’d have heard about it by now.”
After years of experience, Wayne knew exactly how far to lean away to stay out of range, too used to his nephew talking with his entire body.
“That’s his story to tell ya, Ed’s. It ain’t mine. Same way it ain’t my place to tell him your story.”
That at least got the boy to think for a minute. Put down that frustration he carried with him all the time, and use the brain they both knew he had.
“How long is he staying here?”
Wayne shrugged. “Don’t know.”
Eddie sighed and mockingly mimicked Wayne, taking an obnoxious slurp of his cocoa. “The neighbors are going to notice if he’s here more than a few days. The trailer park isn’t exactly big.”
“They didn’t notice that time you decided to make fireballs with the cooking spray and about blew up half the driveway. Don’t think they’re gonna notice someone being quiet in the house.”
Eddie snorted, and probably rolled his eyes again, not that Wayne could see it given the kid was looking into his own mug as he thought it all through.
Wayne sat with him as he processed.
Eds worked at his own pace with things, and while life at large might be against that, Wayne was happy to let him do it. Found it easier that way, then trying to poke and prod and force him like so many father figures did.
Wayne’s patience was rewarded not even a full minute later, when Eddie turned to him and asked;
“What if he finds out?”
This in a quieter voice. An unsure one--words and body hunching in a way unlike the Eddie the world outside knew, but very much like the little boy Wayne had brought inside his home.
It took Wayne a moment to connect the dots--he’d been speaking out of the place parents and authority figures often do, and in doing so hadn’t thought much of the fact his nephew had a real secret.
The kind small town minds didn’t like--and would kill him over.
This all wasn’t about Wayne taking in Steve, he realized abruptly. It was that Steve being here meant Eddie couldn’t be himself.
Could not relax in a place he was accepted for who he was, because Wayne knew and made sure Eddie understood he was wanted here, had a place here, regardless of who he loved.
Now, Wayne had gone and removed it.
‘Shit.’
“He won’t.” Wayne said.
Knew that wasn’t enough, and so, promised: “But if he does, I’ll make sure he understands his safety here relies on your own.”
Ed’s chin jerked in a nod, the two of them sitting in silence for a moment before the boy did as he often did when he wanted a hug but felt too awkward to ask for one, and tipped himself into Wayne’s side.
“Thanks old man.” Eddie whispered into his shoulder and not for the first time, Wayne wished things were easier for the poor kid as he put his mug in one hand and hugged his kid with the other.
Hoped that in the future, it would be.
Even if he had to force everyone and everything coming after him--and now Steve--to do it.
(Wondered vaguely, how bad it was that he was already getting as protective as Steve as he was of his own kid.
Probably very, given his kid clearly hated Harrington.)
xXx
Wayne took the first night of Steve’s stay off.
He wasn’t the type to use his PTO lightly. Was used to rationing it for any possible thing Eddie might need him for.
A night up sick when he was younger, to a night spent chasing him down during some of their bad spots--but the last year or so Wayne had slowly realized he hadn’t had to use it much.
He was still careful with it though, precious as it was, and was thankful for it now as it ensured his nephew didn’t murder their house guest.
Or at the very least, didn't sit there pecking at him.
The kid might've failed English a few times, but he had a real gift with words and an even better one with insults.
(Wayne wasn't quite clear on what all the "King" jabs were about, and absolutely did not get why Steve looked far more hurt at the comment about his "sad ass floppy hair" but given the increasingly flat look Steve was throwing Eddie's way, Wayne figured it couldn't be anything good.)
Thankfully a pointed reminder about Steve's injuries had finally gotten them all some peace, enough for Harrington to drop back to sleep--and for Wayne to realize he looked a little too dead while he did it to be comfortable getting any sleep himself.
The kids chest barely moved, and that it ate at Wayne’s until he got up and shoved a hand under his nose.
Felt his breath, and told himself the poor sod was fine.
Hurt, absolutely, but alive.
Over and over again, until the sun had made its rotation in the sky, bringing the morning with it.
‘Better than nightmares, I suppose.’ Wayne figured, as exhaustion scraped at his eyelids.
Those Wayne knew, would come later. When Steve’s brain caught up to the rest of him, and stopping dumping survival chemicals through his battered body.
He'd given up on sleep entirely sometime around 1 am, and now he sat at his small kitchen table, writing out a medication schedule for Harrington so he and the kid both knew when he could have his next Tylenol.
Wasn’t even halfway through it before Eddie made his typically late appearance and blew through his door.
Had his back up from the moment he’d stepped a foot in the kitchen and it didn’t take a genius to see he’d worked himself into a snit again.
Unfortunately for him, whatever scenario that imaginative brain of his had cooked up fell flat to the reality that was the poor kid on the couch.
Steve Harrington was one a hell of a sight.
Didn’t help that he was doing his level best to make himself as small as possible, curled deep into Wayne's ancient couch.
The blankets covered the ribs and hid away most of the damage, but there wasn’t much Steve could do to hide the shiners on his face--or the marks around his neck.
Not when they’d grown worse overnight, practically inviting questions.
It was almost laughable how quickly Eddie ate whatever words he’d prepared, mouth awkwardly chewing around them as if they were tangible.
The less-than-sneaky looks he threw at the younger teen were equally amusing, and if Wayne wasn’t trying to peace keep, he’d have given in and chuckled when Eds split attention caused him to pour half his coffee into the sink rather than a cup.
Looked utterly lost when, after finishing putting his coffee together and grabbing some junk food thing that absolutely was not a breakfast item, he came to stand awkwardly at Wayne's shoulder, openly staring as Steve blatantly ignored him.
Eds didn’t know what to do, and Wayne couldn't blame him.
Seemed to keep thinking he was going to encounter a boy that likely no longer existed, and whose blood tinged specter just made things sad.
Shit like this, Wayne knew, took a man’s ego and warped it, shaping it to something else entirely.
At least for Steve, it seemed that getting wrapped up in whatever mess he had had shaped him for the better, instead of pretzeling him into something worse. That, Wayne thought, spoke to the boy's character more than anything he’d done prior.
(It helped to know what Hopper tolerated and what he didn’t. That he’d vouched for Steve in the same way Wayne knew he’d vouched for Eddie, even if Eddie didn’t yet realize the cop he antagonized so much would do that for him.)
That didn't erase the history his kid had with Harrington, though.
Wouldn't stop him from seeing the old Steve, first.
‘Don’t you got school?” Wayne asked when he decided Ed had stared enough.
“Yeah, yeah.” Eddie waved him off, trotting out the door. “Bye old man, house parasite!”
It was clearly a jab, meant to nettle, but Steve barely acted like he heard it.
Wayne rolled his eyes.
“Goodbye, Eds.” He said firmly, much of a warning as he ever gave, and fondly watched his nephew scuttle out the door.
Turned to see how Steve was taking things, and was once again given a reminder that Steve wasn’t doing a hell of a lot other than feeling his injuries.
“I think I promised you a game, son.” Wayne said gently, startling Steve out of the distant, dim look he had trained on the wall.
It wasn’t a lot to offer in terms of a distraction, but it would have to do.
#small town rumors#this is the first part of chapter two#I will post all parts of chapter two once im done fighting through it lol#steddie#or pre steddie#where I exist as a person#best dad wayne munson#wayne pov#did I say this entire chapter was going to be eddies pov bc haha I lied#outsider pov#s3 au#hurt/comfort#enemies to lovers but like softish enemies to lovers as in Eddies not caring a whole lot that Steves hurt....yet#beat to shit steve harrington#0o0 fanfics#stranger things#eddie munson#steve harrington#Eddies out here ready to face down snotty af rich boy king steve#keeps working himself up so much he forgets how badly off Steve is lol#dont worry his munson doctrine goes to shit later#mostly bc Eddie thinks steve stuck his nose where he shouldnt have and finally got what he deserved lmao
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not so different
for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt ‘graduation’
rated t | 994 words | cw: mention of past character death, mention of alcohol, language | tags: childhood friends, friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, good uncle Wayne Munson
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Steve Harrington didn’t cry, not even when he fell off the slide at the playground and his knee bled for 15 minutes and his nanny had to call his mom.
But this was a special instance where he was allowed to be sad. His nanny even said so. He watched all the kids in his kindergarten class taking pictures with their moms and dads, uncles and aunts, grandpas and grandmas, and wondered why he didn’t have anyone here for him.
He found an empty classroom in the big kid hall as soon as the ceremony was done, sat behind the teacher’s desk, and cried into his knees.
“Did your daddy not show up either?” A voice asked from in front of him.
He lifted his head, vision blurry and face wet, to see Eddie.
Eddie had already done kindergarten once, but he had trouble with his phonics, so they kept him behind. He was the first kid to talk to Steve in class, but within a few days, Tommy and Carol and Heather had scared him away from Steve entirely.
“Um, no.”
“What about your mama?”
“She’s with my dad.”
“My mama is with God. Or that’s what a lot of people say. I dunno if she was friends with him or not, though. I think she just got buried in the ground and people are scared to tell me,” Eddie was sitting next to Steve now, his leg knocking against Steve’s.
Eddie didn’t sit still very well, and the teacher always said he had ants in his pants. Steve hoped he didn’t have them in there now; he didn’t want any ants on him.
“Where’s your dad?”
“He’s probably getting ‘rested again. He showed up being silly and my Uncle Wayne had to take him outside,” Eddie shrugged.
“Is he tired?” Steve asked, sniffling and leaning more against Eddie.
“No. Uncle Wayne says sometimes he has too much of the drinks in the bottles I’m not allowed to touch and it makes him act like he don’t got a brain,” Eddie didn’t sound that sad, but Steve still wanted to hug him. “So your daddy isn’t here?”
“No. I think he forgot.”
“Sorry he forgot. My Uncle Wayne never forgets. He even came to the lunch room for my birthday. He brought me a piece of pizza!” Eddie always sounded more excited than anyone else. Most of the kids in the class thought it was stupid, but Steve kind of liked the way his eyes got wide and his smile got so big it took up most of his face. “Maybe he can bring you a piece for your birthday next year.”
“He doesn’t even know me.”
“You can come meet him!”
The classroom door opened just as Eddie started to stand and reach for Steve’s hands to pull him up.
“There ya are, Ed! Been lookin’ everywhere. You want some ice cream?” An older man stood by the door, button up plaid shirt only half-tucked into his jeans.
“Can we bring Steve? He’s my friend.”
Steve’s head turned, shocked that Eddie would say that.
“We gotta ask his parents first, Ed.”
“His parents didn’t come.”
“Oh.” The man looked Steve up and down before seemingly settling on something. He gave a small smile and gestured for him to come closer. “What’s your favorite flavor, then?”
“I dunno. Never had anything except vanilla,” Steve admitted, afraid to look at the man who had to be Eddie’s Uncle Wayne.
“Well, that just won’t do, will it? Let’s go try every flavor at the diner. Benny just added a few new ones. Think there’s even a bubblegum one.”
Eddie clapped his hands and dragged Steve out the door by his arm.
“I bet you’ll like mint chip,” he said as Wayne followed behind them, fond smile on his face.
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Steve Harrington had only cried a few times in his life, but this was the second time it was happening in front of Eddie.
Eddie wasn’t conscious this time, though.
“If you wake up, I’ll take you to the diner and we can have ice cream. They’ve got a new raspberry white chocolate flavor that you’d like. I could use some mint chip right now,” Steve said around the tears.
Wayne had left the hospital an hour ago to freshen up and grab one of his crossword puzzle books. Steve had been crying for most of that hour, holding Eddie’s hand and quietly begging him to wake up.
Two days without hearing his voice or watching his smile light up the room was too long, especially after having it for the last 13 years.
“How’re you gonna walk at graduation if you’re still asleep here, huh?” Steve closed his eyes and wiped at his cheeks.
“You can walk with me.”
Steve’s head shot up at Eddie’s quiet, but surprisingly strong voice.
“Eddie!”
“Hey, Stevie. Heard you’re takin’ me for ice cream,” Eddie’s smile was crooked, the bandage on his cheek covering one of his dimples.
It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except for Eddie being awake, being alive, being okay.
“Yeah, Eds. Every day if you want,” Steve wanted to crawl into the bed with him, hold him close and feel him breathing and listen to his heartbeat, be sure he was there.
“Gonna hold you to that.”
“Soon as you can leave, that’ll be our first stop. Promise.”
Eddie closed his eyes, but the smile remained on his face. “You slept?”
“A bit.”
“So no.”
Steve rolled his eyes. “A bit.”
“C’mere.”
“Honey, you’re hurt-“
“Come here.”
Steve got in bed slowly, making sure he kept space between himself and Eddie’s injuries.
“Think I’ll graduate?”
Steve snorted. “They’d be stupid to hold you back after you saved everyone.”
“Yeah. ‘M a hero. Fuck Hawkins High.”
Steve could feel more tears trickle down his cheeks, but these were different.
These were relieved tears, happy tears.
“Yeah, honey. Fuck them.”
“Love you, though.”
“Love you so much.”
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#steddieholidaydrabbles#graduation#childhood friends#friends to lovers#wayne munson#hurt/comfort
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This is not how Wayne was expecting to come home from work.
He had expected, as usual, that Eddie would be asleep, and he’d be free to watch the 5:00 AM news. He’d have a bowl of cereal for dinner (or was it breakfast at that point?), and then he’d be out like a light while Eddie did whatever it was he did before noon. Usually, that was sleep.
The exact opposite of what Wayne was expecting is happening right now.
He didn’t even get his keys out of his pocket before Eddie whips the door open. He looks a mess: hair tied back loosely, pajamas off kilter, panic mixed with exhaustion on his face.
“Oh, thank Christ,” he croaks. “Wayne, I need your help. I have no idea what to do.”
Wayne can count on one hand the number of times he’s seen Eddie panic like this. He shoulders past him into the trailer and is greeted with the sight of Steve Harrington standing in the middle of his living room.
“What on God’s green earth,” he murmurs. He blinks, then blinks again, but Harrington is still there, in pajamas, the tire iron Eddie still keeps under his bed in his hands. He’s breathing real heavy, and he stares out the window, stock-still.
“The hell happened?” Wayne asks, keeping his voice low.
“I don’t know,” Eddie whispers desperately. “I don’t know what happened, but he got up and grabbed the iron and just stood here-”
“How long?”
“Ten minutes, maybe.”
Wayne doesn’t like where this is going. “Has he responded to you at all?”
“No-”
Shit.
“-but I can try again?”
Wayne eyes the white-knuckled grip Harrington has on the tire iron. He’s ready to swing, and Wayne knows he’ll swing hard if given the chance.
No way he’s risking Eddie. No way he’s risking Harrington. Wayne doesn’t know him well, only met him a few times in passing, but he knows he’d never forgive himself if he hurt Eddie.
“No. Don’t try again.”
“I’m not leaving him.”
“Didn’t ask you to. All I’m saying is don’t go near.”
Eddie is very good at following instructions to the letter and to the letter only, much to Wayne’s fond annoyance. So, he doesn’t go near.
Instead, he says, voice strangely soft, “Stevie, sweetheart.”
Harrington doesn’t respond, but he turns a little in the direction of Eddie’s voice. Wayne takes that as a good sign, even if he can see the tension on his face now.
“Will you come back to sleep? Please?” Wayne hates hearing Eddie’s voice crack the way it is right now.
Harrington faces them a little better, and Wayne sees what he was expecting.
He’s staring through them, not at them. Wherever Harrington is, it sure ain’t here.
“I don’t know how much that’s gonna help, Eddie. He’s having-”
“I know he’s having a flashback, Wayne!” Eddie snaps. “I’m not stupid. It’s usually just not this bad, and I don’t know how to fix it.”
“Alright,” Wayne says because snapping back won’t help anyone. That and because he’s trying to process the fact that Eddie has had to deal with this before. “Let me try.”
He takes a few steps toward Harrington, keeping his hands up and his movements slow.
“Harrington,” he calls, keeping his tone light. “You’re at Eddie’s place right now. It’s almost five AM on a Friday night.”
Harrington blinks, and it looks like his eyes are coming back into focus.
“You’re safe right now. Eddie’s safe right now.”
Harrington shakes his head and lifts the tire iron a little higher. Christ, his arms must be aching by now. “No. I saw the lights flicker, and I heard a thud outside, and it got cold.”
“Stevie, the gate’s closed,” Eddie pleads. “You saw it happen. Nothing got out. You’re safe.”
Wayne doesn’t know what any of that means, but even though it was supposed to reassure Harrington, he just shakes his head again.
He hears Eddie sigh behind him, and he knows without turning around that he’s trying not to cry.
Guess he’s gotta try something different, then. “You just wake up?”
Harrington blinks, and for a minute, Wayne thinks this won’t get them anywhere. But then he whispers, just loud enough to be heard, “Yeah.”
“Okay. I just got off work.”
Harrington stares at him, confused.
“So, I think I’m a little more awake than you. I’ll take what you’ve got in your hands, and I can stay up.”
Harrington shakes his head. “It’s fine. I stay up most of the time when I’m alone.”
Alone. Wayne knows from experience, both personal and witnessing this shit, that alone is the last thing anyone should be when they’re having a flashback. Harrington says it like it’s the only thing he’s ever known.
He dismisses his questions - why is Harrington having flashbacks, why is he alone - and focuses on getting him to put down the tire iron and go to bed.
“You’re not alone this time,” Wayne says. “You’ve got Eddie here, too, and I think both of you would feel better if you were together.”
Harrington looks over Wayne’s shoulder. Wayne doesn’t turn around, but he can imagine the pleading look on Eddie’s face just fine.
Wayne holds out his hands for the tire iron, and after a minute, or maybe a month, Harrington sets it there. Immediately, he looks lighter and heavier.
Eddie walks up next to Wayne and murmurs, “Come on, sugar.”
Harrington goes to him and just rests his head on his shoulder. Eddie holds him there, just standing in the middle of the living room, sunrise just starting to peek in through the windows.
Thank you, he mouths to Wayne.
Wayne nods, but he’s got a hell of a lot more questions than answers - what the hell brought this on, what exactly is Harrington to Eddie. That can wait for morning, though.
For now, he just hopes Harrington will be okay by then.
No, not Harrington. Steve.
After something like this, Wayne has learned, you start using first names.
#stranger things#stranger things fic#steve harrington#eddie munson#wayne munson#steddie#(from an outside pov)#angst#hurt/comfort#flashbacks#idk what this is#it's the night before midterms#i've had a shit week#bon appetit#this is old btw i promise i wasn't THAT irresponsible#to write new fic the night before a midterm#ria writes
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Hands Where I Can See Them, Part 4
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
The only thing Eddie is dreading as much as Steve’s return for his things is Wayne’s inevitable question about where Steve is at all.
After all, Steve has practically been living with them for weeks – something that Eddie may not have allowed himself to consider the significance of, but which Wayne cannot have failed to notice. Though Steve had (apparently) felt the need to do things around the trailer to stay in Wayne’s good graces, he really didn’t have to worry about it; Wayne likes him, and he’ll be asking sooner or later just where Steve has gone.
‘Sooner’ comes two nights after Eddie royally fucks things over. It’s Wayne’s night off, and there’s really no avoiding him; their new trailer is bigger than the last, but it’s still close quarters, and Eddie gets caught when he passes through the living room to get a drink from the kitchen.
“Noticed Steve isn’t here tonight,” Wayne says, blunt as hell, because he doesn’t see the point in doing things any other way.
“Nope,” Eddie says shortly, grabbing a glass from the cabinet and filling it from the tap.
“Wasn’t here last night, either,” Wayne goes on.
“He was not,” Eddie confirms.
“Wasn’t here when I got in yesterday morning,” Wayne says.
“You are a veritable font of observation tonight,” Eddie says, only a little snarky.
Wayne shrugs. “Hard not to notice when he’s here nine days out of ten, then suddenly up and disappears,” he says. He pauses a moment before adding, “Stuff’s gone from the bathroom, too.”
Eddie occupies himself with slowly swallowing down half his glass of water before he answers. “Yeah.”
“Don’t suppose he’s going on a trip,” Wayne doesn’t quite ask, and Eddie lets out a bitter sort of laugh.
“Loving the optimism from you, but no, not… not so much.”
There are a few beats of silence, and then Wayne lets out a slow sigh. Eddie knows him well enough to understand the sound of it – he’s just decided to get involved.
“You two have a fight?”
“Something like that,” Eddie mutters.
“Well that’s vague as hell, son. You have a fight, or didn’t you?” Wayne prods.
Slowly, Eddie shakes his head. “No, I– I don’t think so. I think it was all me,” he says, finally looking up from his glass and meeting Wayne’s questioning gaze. “I fucked up, Wayne.”
There’s no immediate judgement coming from Wayne, no suspicion or scorn, not even a shake of the head and some variation of “Of course you did.” There’s only a measured sort of curiosity in his stare, the same way it’s been since Eddie was a kid and Wayne was trying to figure him out; it’s sort of comforting in its familiarity, in its neutrality.
“You wanna tell me about it?” Wayne asks.
Eddie knows that if he says no, Wayne will let it go. He might keep sending curious and worried looks Eddie’s way, he might ask a few more prodding questions over the next few days, but he won’t make Eddie say anything he doesn’t want to. And Eddie doesn’t really want to – but he thinks that maybe he needs to.
“If… you had to define mine and Steve’s relationship, what would you say?” Eddie asks after a moment.
Wayne cocks an eyebrow at him. “I’d say that feels like a trick question.”
Eddie lets out a little huff of a laugh. “It’s not, I swear. I’m seriously curious,” he says. “There are no wrong answers – go.”
“Well,” Wayne says, still eyeing Eddie consideringly, “I don’t know if you kids put labels on things these days or what, but from the outside, I’d say you’re dating. I’d say that boy is fully in love with you and that you’re at least halfway to loving him back.”
“Right.” Eddie gives a jerky nod. “Seems like that’s what pretty much everyone thinks.”
“But that’s not what’s going on,” Wayne takes a guess.
“Well, that depends on your perspective,” Eddie says, a little high and tight.
“Well, the only perspectives worth a damn here’re yours’n Steve’s,” Wayne shoots back. “So what would those be?”
Eddie drains the last of his water, turning away to put the glass in the sink. “Steve… shares your perspective. Or, uh– he did. But I… I didn’t realize he was so serious. I thought we were just kind of messing around.”
The silence from behind Eddie is so thick that he can’t help but finally turn around and meet Wayne’s gaze again.
“That’s a hell of a blind spot, Ed,” Wayne says simply, and Eddie folds in on himself a bit, crossing his arms over his chest. His main defense has always been to become larger than life – to make big gestures and even bigger speeches, but everything about this situation makes him feel like nothing so much as small.
“Yeah,” he says quietly.
“So, what, you figured out how serious he was and thought you didn’t want that?” Wayne asks, and Eddie hunches a little further in on himself.
“Nope. No, that– would’ve been better, actually. If that’s what happened. But that’s not what happened, because did I mention I fucked up? Because I seriously fucked up.” Eddie’s rambling is stemmed by an expectant look from Wayne. “It’s just – the other night, when the guys were over, we got to talking about it. The whole… me and Steve thing. As in, they thought me and Steve were a thing. And they asked me about it. While Steve was out of the room. And then he, uh. Hm.” Eddie rubs a hand nervously over his chin. “He walked back in when I was in the middle of telling them that he's just a friend and that we’re just having fun. And that’s… when I found out how serious he was.”
“Eddie…”
“I know. I know!” Eddie doesn’t even have to look at Wayne to catch the disappointment coming off of him, so he doesn’t. He scrubs hands over his face and then just leaves him there, telling the rest of the story to his palms. “He was so fucking upset, Wayne, I think– I think I actually made him cry? And the only reason he hasn’t been here to get the rest of his stuff out of the trailer yet is because he was down with a migraine the next day. Like, I hurt him so badly I made him physically ill. So I didn’t just fuck up, but I’m actually a horrible human being and should probably spend the rest of my days living in isolation so I don’t ruin anyone else’s life.”
Wayne is silent for so long that Eddie is eventually forced to peek out from behind his fingers.
“You’re not gonna tell me how bad I fucked up?” Eddie asks, still a bit muffled.
“Seems like you have that covered already,” Wayne says, then he holds up one arm in offer, nodding towards the empty spot beside him on the couch. “C’mere.”
He doesn’t need to ask Eddie twice. No matter how old he gets, Eddie doesn’t think a genuine hug from his uncle will ever stop being comforting, and regardless of whether or not he thinks he actually deserves it right now, he’s going to take it. He crashes down onto the couch and leans heavily into Wayne’s side, sighing as Wayne wraps his arm around his shoulders.
“You’re not a bad person, Ed. You made a mistake, s’all,” Wayne says, and Eddie scoffs.
“Pretty big fucking mistake,” he mutters.
“Yep, that was a doozy. You hurt someone you care about, and you might not be able to fix it all the way. But that doesn’t make you terrible. Makes you human.” Wayne gives Eddie a comforting squeeze. “And Steve ain’t a bad person, either. He’ll know you mean it when you tell him you’re sorry.”
“Yeah,” Eddie says quietly.
“You think about what you’re gonna do when he does show to get the rest of his stuff?” Wayne asks.
“Besides grovel?” Eddie shoots back.
“I mean, what’re you gonna grovel for?”
Eddie lets out a long breath. “I… I know I might not be able to fix it, but I just – I want the chance to try. I’m hoping he’ll just give me that chance.” Eddie pauses for a moment, choked by the dread of the thought that Steve might not give him that chance. “Things don’t have to go back to the way they were, but I at least want him to know that even if I’m shit at showing it, I do care.”
“Sounds like a decent place to start,” Wayne says.
“Think so?” Eddie asks.
“Mm.”
“Well… I hope Steve thinks so, too.”
Wayne gives his shoulders another squeeze and says nothing more, but he doesn’t really have to. He’s already settled Eddie’s nerves more than he’d thought possible; just this is more than enough.
Now Eddie just has to try to hold onto the feeling long enough to talk to Steve.
-
It turns out, Eddie doesn’t have to hold onto the feeling for very long at all; the very next morning—two days after Robin had read Eddie the riot act and left him to begin tentatively planning—another knock comes at the door.
It’s ten in the morning – not as early as Eddie had expected, but early enough that he’s not long out of bed when he opens the door to find Steve on the other side.
In contrast to Eddie’s sweatpants and t-shirt, Steve looks like he’s trying very hard to look like he’s alright. His polo is clean and tucked in, the collar is straight, his hair is as perfectly styled as ever – but there’s still something off. There are dark circles under his eyes, stark against a paler than normal complexion, and none of the ease or contentment that Eddie has grown used to shines from his face. He feels a little like he wants to mourn its absence.
“Hey,” Steve says, nodding in greeting.
“Hey,” Eddie says back, because for all his thoughts and planning, he hadn’t really considered how to start this encounter.
“I came to get my shit out of your way,” Steve says, and Eddie frowns.
It’s not in my way, he wants to say. You’re not in my way. Leave your stuff. Stay.
“Uh. Yeah, sure,” Eddie says instead, stepping aside to let Steve in.
Steve is carrying a cardboard box, but doesn’t seem to have anything or anyone else in tow. For as spread throughout Eddie’s life as Steve has become, he wonders if all of him will fit into that one box.
“Kinda surprised you didn’t bring Buckley to help pack,” Eddie says, glancing back out the screen door, as if Robin might appear out of nowhere.
“Just dropped her off at work,” Steve says. “I figured she probably already had… words for you when she picked up my meds, and I didn’t think any of us needed an encore.”
“I don’t know,” Eddie says quietly. “The stuff she said got me thinking.”
In the process of grabbing a jacket he’d left behind off one of the hooks by the door, Steve only glances back at Eddie. “I’m sure she had a lot to say,” he says, carefully neutral.
“Yeah. She, uh – definitely did. Can we talk?” Eddie asks.
Steve sighs. “Eddie…”
“Just hear me out, please. Then I’ll get out of your way and let you pack in peace, I promise,” Eddie says.
“We don’t– have to talk about it,” Steve says, turning back to face Eddie. “Look, I’m sorry for putting my weird expectations on you. I was reading into stuff that wasn’t there, and I made assumptions instead of just talking to you, and that’s on me. So I’m gonna just – get out of your hair, and you won’t have to deal with my stupid, delusional bullshit anymore.”
“No, that’s not– Steve–” Eddie reaches out for Steve as he tries to brush past on his way to the bedroom, where most of his belongings are. He gets a hand around Steve’s bicep and, though Steve doesn’t jerk away this time, he goes stiff and still beneath Eddie’s touch, prompting Eddie to let go.
It hurts; even though Eddie’s done it to himself, the reaction still hurts. He’s always reached for Steve in the past, always had his hands on him, and Steve had always welcomed him, even before they’d started sleeping together. Now, Eddie takes a step back, forcing himself to give Steve some space.
“That’s not what I want to say at all,” he says. “I mean – I would’ve liked if we’d talked about it, because then I would’ve known, and I could’ve appreciated what it was – what we were doing.”
Steve turns back to face Eddie, his gaze snapping straight to him with equal suspicion and confusion. “What?”
“Steve, you weren’t reading into things that weren’t there, you’re not– you’re not stupid or delusional, I was just – I was sending you mixed signals,” Eddie says. “I was so wrapped up in thinking that I knew what was going on, that I didn’t look at what I really had, and I’m sorry. But if I knew, if I’d just gotten my head out of my ass, you have to believe that in a heartbeat, I would have–”
“Don’t,” Steve cuts in sharply.
“Steve–”
“I don’t need whatever this is, Eddie,” Steve snaps. “You don’t need to have pity on your pathetic ex-whatever I am to you, okay? It’s okay, just– just let it go.”
“This isn’t pity,” Eddie insists with an incredulous little laugh. “It’s fucking not, I swear! This is me saying that I fucked up and I hurt you and I want to make it up to you. I haven’t done anything to deserve it, but I want the chance to show you how sorry I am and how much you mean to me– in whatever capacity you’ll let me.”
“Whatever capacity?” Steve stares at him, brows furrowed.
“Whatever you’ll be comfortable with. As a friend, or… as more, if that bridge hasn’t burned,” Eddie says.
“What, so now I’m relationship material?” Steve asks, pointed.
Eddie winces. “I shouldn’t have said that. I shouldn’t have said any of that, and if I could go back in time and slap myself upside the head before I let any of that shit out and hurt you with it, I would. I know that… I know I didn’t pay enough attention to you, but I also wasn’t paying very much attention to how I was feeling,” he says. “Because honestly? I’m kind of a moron, Steve. I’ve never had sex with someone I really liked, with someone who was anything like a friend, and when I started wanting to be around you all the time, and always wanting you within reach, and when every little thing started to remind me of you, I just thought… yeah, this is what friends-with-benefits feels like. Y’know, like a fucking idiot.”
Steve doesn’t laugh. “I don’t know if I can trust you on that,” he says softly, and that’s fair.
It hurts, but it’s fair.
“Then let me earn your trust back. Please, Steve, just… give me the chance,” Eddie implores, doesn’t even care that he’s basically begging – Eddie doesn’t beg, but for Steve, he’ll make an exception. For Steve, he thinks he’ll do just about anything.
Pursing his lips, Steve looks at the floor beside Eddie’s feet for a long moment, and Eddie gives him the time to sort his thoughts out.
“I want to say yes. Part of me just wants to accept your apology and pretend that none of this happened. Just keep going the way we were,” he says. “But I can’t keep doing that – ignoring shit. I just… can’t.”
“I’m not asking you to,” Eddie says. “I don’t want things to be like they were before, I want – I want to be better. I want to do better.”
“How?” Steve asks, both challenging and curious.
“I want to do it right. I want to show you how much I appreciate you, and how much you mean to me. I want to treat you like you deserve to be treated,” Eddie insists. “And if that’s just by being the best friend I can be, then that’s what I’ll do, but I would love—love—if you’d let me romance you.”
That briefly breaks through Steve’s stony façade, and he lets out a huff of a laugh. “Romance me?”
“Shit, yeah. Flowers and chocolates and candle-lit dates – the whole nine yards,” Eddie says with a slow grin. “All the things you’ve given other people but that no one has ever given you.”
“I…” Steve starts, his own humor fading quickly. “I don’t know.”
It’s better than an outright ‘no.’
“That’s okay,” Eddie promises. “You don’t have to know right now. I can wait. I’m a patient kinda guy.”
(That’s an absolute lie, and they both know it, but Eddie will find all the patience in the world if Steve needs time to think.)
Slowly, Steve nods. “I think… Just, give it a couple of weeks, okay? Really think about it, and if this – if I’m something you still want by then, come talk to me again,” he says. “Alright?”
“Yeah.” Eddie nods rapidly. “As much time as you want. I’m not going to up and change my mind. Two weeks, I’ll ask again.”
Steve shrugs, taking a step back towards the bedroom.
“I will,” Eddie promises – not defensive, but certain. He can wait two weeks. He can wait as long as Steve needs him to. Maybe he can take the time to get his shit together.
He does care about Steve. He does pay attention – and he’s going to prove it.
But in the meantime, the only thing Steve has asked for is space, so Eddie gives it to him. He retreats to the kitchen to let Steve pack up in peace, trying hard not to feel bereft at the thought of the gaps Steve will be leaving behind.
If he’s lucky—if he’s very, very lucky—it won’t be forever.
Part 5
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Tag List (drop me a line if you want on or off the ride): @bushbees @y0urnewstepp4r3nt @gleek4twd @hellfireone @westifer-dead @anne-bennett-cosplayer @starman-jpg @mugloversonly @swimmingbirdrunningrock @alycatavatar @y4r3luv @rhapsodyinalto @vinteraltus @lilpomelito @tillystealeaves @noctxrn-e
I did my best to catch everyone, but there were a few people Tumblr wouldn't let me tag. Sorry if I missed you!
#steddie#eddie & wayne#eddie munson#wayne munson#steve harrington#stranger things#eddiesteve#solar wrote#I write wayne once a year so here's my annual allotted amount I guess#listen you know I love hurt/comfort and I love happy endings but one thing you should never expect from me is consistent chapter lengths#things happen as they happen!
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I didn’t want to be alone [Eddie Munson X Reader]
Title: I didn’t want to be alone.
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader {Established friendship but deliberately vague, can be romantic or not}. Platonic!Wayne Munson&Reader.
Timeline: Non-specified. There’s a brief mention of ‘trauma’ that I’d originally written as events from ST 1-3 but it could be anything. Insert your troubles here.
Summary: When things in your mind get bad, you know you always have a place to go.
Warnings: Brief mentions of trauma, illusions of mental illness. Sadness/ depression. This is a comfort fic. Wayne looks after us. Wayne Munson being the father figure we all need.
Word count: 3.4k
This is a complete comfort fic that I wrote to try and make myself feel better, a concept I came up with to try and get to sleep one night. My toddler isn’t sleeping, I haven’t slept properly for days and I’m losing my mind- keep me in your thoughts as I drown in coffee.
The last thing Wayne Munson expected to see when he pulled up to his trailer at 4am after his monthly half shift was your car; he especially didn't expect to see you sat stationary within the car, staring blankly up towards the dark trailer home. He frowns as he cuts the engine to his beat up truck, grabs his trusty brown thermos and metal lunchbox before he climbs out of the truck. When his eyes fix on you again, he sees that you haven't moved even an inch, not even acknowledging his approach. Your chin rests on your arm slung over the wheel, body slumped down in your seat with a vacant expression on your face, eyes heavy and pained. He can tell immediately that something isn't right with you, your body language completely thrown off as you stare into the void, unaware of everything around you.
He'd seen you look like this only once before, but Eddie had mentioned in passing that you'd had 'episodes' one or two times before, something about trauma, something that had haunted you from a few years back. Wayne was a simple man and didn't pretend to know what any of that meant, nor would he intrude and ask you about it when you so clearly didn't want to open up about what was plaguing you. He figured better people with bigger brains than he would be the only people that could understand what you were going through, but he'd try his best to help you where he could.
Wayne knows better than to make you jump in your impaired state and so he tried to delicately walk over to your car, putting himself directly in your eye line so that you wouldn't be alarmed once you realised he was there. It takes a minute or so for your eyes to focus on him, flicking over at the slow movement in your peripheral vision. Your shock at seeing him makes his eyes pull tight together in a squint, fighting the urge to frown at your unusual behaviour.
He walks over to your car door and finally takes in your appearance, the crease lines in his face getting deeper as he frowns once again, seeing that you are in no way dressed appropriately for the bitter cold, wearing only a pair of lounge shorts and an oversized band shirt that he instantly recognises as his nephew's.
You wind the window down as Wayne leans in, careful to be gentle with you as he sees the glassy, pained look still overwhelming your face, even after you'd broken out of your trance.
"What're you doing here girl? Got your key don't ya?" He says, trying his hardest to keep his tone balanced and his voice gentle; not an easy feat for a self proclaimed gruff, southern born hick like Wayne.
Wayne cringes as he feels the low temperature inside your car, the cold drifting out from your rolled down window. Somehow the inside of your car was even colder than the crisp, early morning air outside. Only then did Wayne remember you complaining that the heat and the ac in your car had busted a couple of weeks ago, but you couldn't afford to get it fixed right away on account of your 'full time student and part time waitress' salary.
You stare at him for a lingering moment, not even making a single attempt to reply as you usually would, the only sign that you had heard him at all was a subtle twitch of your eye. You eventually turn to look away, averting your gaze from his concerned eyes to stare back towards the trailer which was pitch black inside with no sign of life.
"I didn't know what to do," you said quietly, your voice timid and weak as you fought to push out your thoughts. "I remembered what you said about coming over anytime I needed to not be alone, but then I remembered the date and that Eddie was away at his gig. Then I remembered you said that Eddie didn't even have to be here, when you gave me the spare key. I got in my car and drove here but then I got stuck, not able to go inside because I'd be a burden but I couldn't leave either."
Wayne was quiet at he listened intently to you, giving you the time you needed to explain, knowing how hard it must be for you to speak your thoughts out loud. He silently nods gently, knowing at least partially what you were feeling as he acknowledges your troubles. He thinks it strange how often you said 'remembered' in the sentence, knowing that your words sounded uncharacteristic but he assumes that it is just you voicing your thoughts as they appeared in your head. His heart breaks a little at hearing your sad words, knowing that you must have felt real bad to have jumped in your car and drove all the way out here without thought of a jacket.
"Let's get you inside, 'fore ya catch a damn cold," he says gently, wanting to get you into the warmth as he sees goose flesh spreading across your skin and the unmistakable bounce of your leg from your body fighting the cold. He expects to be met with more resistance than you offer as you simply nod and reach for the keys that are still in the ignition. He opens the door for you, juggling his belongings in his arms as he leads you up the concrete steps to the trailer and unlocks the door, offering a tiny smile of empathy at you as he steps aside, allowing you to enter first.
As you step in, you're immediately met with stagnant warm air from the trailer being shut up all day, retaining the last slithers of heat emitted by the old space heater Wayne must have had on before he went to work. The trailer smells like home to you and immediately offers a level of comfort that you could never get anywhere else. There's a lingering smell of cigarette smoke which hangs thick in the air, mixed with a hint of Eddie's cheap cologne and old spice, old coffee and the overwhelming scent of both Eddie and Wayne, their warm natural scents mixing to create the personalised blend of the Munson trailer.
You tentatively take a seat on the couch once offered by Wayne, who immediately sets to turning on a few lamps before boiling some water for a warm drink for you both, throwing down his lunchbox and thermos on the counter in the process. He grabs two mugs from the cabinet, but immediately changes his mind as he thinks of way to cheer you up. He walks past you to reach for one of his many display mugs, grabbing your favourite of the bunch and rinses it in the sink before setting the two mugs aside to make a drink. He begins to pull out the coffee but stops himself, knowing that the last thing you need is a blast of caffeine in your system and so he reached for the small box of tea that he kept in just for you, pulling out your preferred flavour as he makes the drinks.
He takes a look at you as he waits for the water to boil, finally seeing you in the light that he'd turned on as you entered. Your eyes look dark and sunken, dark purple circles formed underneath your once sparkly eyes, telling him that you hadn't slept a wink. Your hair was haphazardly thrown up into a messy bun, faint smudges of mascara were present under your eyes and overall you looked thoroughly exhausted.
When he walks over to you, he's delicate with his approach, offering the tea out to you with a gentle smile. He notices your eyes widening slightly once you spot the special mug and a small smile tugs at your lips which he's thankful for as it means your coming out of your dark place. You mumble a thank you as you cradle the warm Star Wars mug in your hands, the heat rolling through your cold and shivering body.
"You wanna talk about it?" He says quietly, taking a seat and bringing his own mug to his lips. He sees a frown form on your eyebrows before your eyes close and you shake your head no at his suggestion. He simply nods, respecting your decision and giving you the grace of not asking any follow up questions.
"I'm sorry," your little voice says after a few silent moments.
"Don't ever be sorry, you did the right thing by coming here darlin," Wayne replies sweetly, to which you reply with a kind and grateful smile. "You're welcome here night or day."
Neither of you speaks for a moment, though it's a comfortable shared silence rather than an awkward interlude.
"So how come you ain't with Eddie at his gig?" Wayne asks a few moments later, taking another sip of his coffee. Your eyes flash with angst again and he suddenly regrets asking as your face drops slightly, not realising that his question could trigger you.
"I had an exam, couldn't get out of it," you shrugged gently, not managing to lift your eyes up from their fixed point upon your mug, watching the steam rise from the hot tea inside.
"You do okay?" Wayne asks, feeling a little awkward at asking. Eddie had always been a handful, especially when it came to doing his homework and anything academic, and Wayne's questioning of how projects went or finals or whatever else had fallen on deaf ears many years ago.
You nodded gently in reply, a little apprehensive maybe, "yeah I think so, it was only after when things started to go bad."
Wayne knew immediately that you were referring to your episode earlier, and his heart ached more for the girl in front of him who seemed so broken down, the girl he had grown to care for like a daughter. You fell quiet again, staring into space looking so exhausted you could drop down where you sat.
"Tell ya what, why don't ya go lay down in Eddie's room for a while, take your tea with yer," Wayne suggests, leaning forward slightly as he talked, not quiet reaching out to you but feeling a little closer to do so. "I'll make us some grub once you wake up."
You immediately begin to weakly protest, already feeling like a burden but Wayne shuts it down quickly. "Ain't no different then having Eddie here, 'cept you got a better sense of hygiene and noise control," he joked, earning a chuckle from you. "I'll be right through here if you need anything, ain't sleeping yet and I ain't going anywhere." His voice was still gentle but his words held a level of insistence which meant you couldn't question him, knowing he was being entirely honest.
"Uncle Wayne, thank you," you smiled gently, standing up off the couch and making your way through to the familiar back room, carrying your mug, before closing the door.
Stepping into Eddie's room without him here felt a little odd, but the sight of the room alone was enough to comfort you even more. Cigarette smell lingered here too, mixed with the faint whiff of marijuana, Eddie's cheap cologne and a general boy smell which wasn't entirely unpleasant. His guitar, sweetheart, was missing off the wall, along with two of the three amps that were usually littered around on the limited floor space.
You placed your mug on the nightstand, beside the ashtray, and didn't hesitate to throw yourself down onto the bed, pulling the sheets up high so that you were essentially cocooned in them. The sheets smelt perfectly like Eddie. Bringing them up to your nose to scent him, you felt instantly calmer by the second.
You could hear the faint murmur of the tv in the lounge, knowing that Wayne would probably be watching the 5am news or a repeat of his favourite western, the Comancheros. The knowledge of him being right outside was enough to comfort you even more, knowing that you weren't alone anymore.
For the first time since your episode began, you felt like you could actually finally fall asleep; the comfy bed, the lingering scent of Eddie all around you and the soft comforter all equated to your relaxed, happy state. Your tired eyes closed on their own accord, suddenly overwhelmed by the heaviness that pulled at them and without any hesitation or conscious effort, you slipped into a deep sleep, putting the bad day behind you.
Only a few hours later, early in the morning when Eddie's van roared up the dirt road towards the trailer, music turned down only slightly from its usual blaring volume, until it came to a sharp stop right outside his trailer. He frowned when he saw not only your car but his uncles truck parked outside, not expecting either of you to be there when he got back.
He stepped into the trailer and immediately spotted his uncle lounging in his armchair, a western playing on the old tv, without any sign of you.
Eddie nods to his uncle in greeting, before opening his mouth to question your whereabouts until Wayne instantly brings his finger to his lips, attempting to silence the boy from speaking too loudly. He didn't say anything in the moment, merely pointing towards the closed door leading to Eddie's room, hoping that he'd catch what he was trying to say.
Eddie nods his head, frowning a moment later as he realised what must have happened and that he wasn't here to help.
"You're back early boy," Wayne states, reaching for the tv remote to mute it, reaching out to grab a cigarette from the pack before lighting it, watching his nephew do the same thing only moments behind him after placing down the guitar in it's carrier by the small table.
"Gig was cancelled, burst pipe, never even made it on stage," Eddie mumbled, clearly annoyed at the facts he was relaying.
"There's always next time son," Wayne replies, taking a drag of his cigarette, earning a gentle nod from his nephew. "She's asleep, told her to get down in your room."
At the mention of you, Eddie's eyes flicker to the closed door of his bedroom, a warmth filling his gut at the thought of you sleeping in his room, especially without him there. Though he hated the thought of you suffering alone, disliking the thought of it happening when he wasn't here to help a little too much, the fact that you sought out him and his home gave him a little possessive buzz.
"Thanks Wayne, for, yanno," he couldn't quite get the words out that he wanted to say, feeling a little uncomfortable at the emotional weight in the conversation. Wayne understands, he always does and gives Eddie a nod that tells him everything, the look in his eyes conveying his affection for you, especially the way that it silently says 'I'd do it for you too'.
Eddie puts out his cigarette and with one last thankful look towards his uncle, creeps down the hall to his bedroom and slides open the door, trying desperately not to spook you.
It's dark in the room, the only light peeking through the window is from the street light a few meters away that shines rays of light over you thanks to his broken blinds.
He feels a little creepy watching you sleep but he can't resist, seeing you cocooned in his own sheets looking blissfully peaceful, the demons you carried not haunting your dreams. Your hair is spread across the pillow and there's a brief moment where he is genuinely excited that his sheets will smell like you the next night.
He doesn't fully undress, only throws off his shoes and the jeans that were still heavy and filled with ticket stubs and random change that he'd accumulated on the journey to the venue and then straight back. He's delicate as he climbs into bed beside you, praying he doesn't disturb you or worse, frighten you.
He sucks in a breath when he feels you move, no doubt sensing the presence behind you and for a moment he holds his breath, trying to stay completely still.
"Eddie?" You murmur sleepily, the hopefulness in your voice making his heart beat just a little harder at the sound.
"M'here princess," he says gently, pressing his hand delicately to your shoulder. He lets out a little noise of content when you turn over in bed and snuggle down into his chest, bringing your warmth with you. The pair of you cuddling wasn't entirely unheard of, but Eddie was certain it had never been this intimate before, not that he was complaining.
"Wanna talk?" He offers after a few moments of silence, sensing that your breathing hadn't returned to your peaceful sleep pattern. You shake your head on his chest and try to snuggle further down, secretly inhaling more of his scent as you sought comfort that only he could provide.
"How was your gig?" You mumbled, sleepiness still making you slur your words just a little, feeling as if speaking in full was too much effort.
"Got cancelled princess, s'why I'm back," he explains gently. His ringed hand has started to absently rub back and forth across your back and you wish he'd never stop doing it.
"What time is it?" You ask, sitting up just enough to look at him, though you could only really make out his outline in the darkness. You frown, suddenly realising that Eddie was back much, much earlier than you'd anticipated and his words of explanation slowly sunk in. "It got cancelled, why?"
Once again, Eddie feels like the grinch with his heart expanding in significant increments, feeling it grow and swell at your distraught tone. You actually cared that the gig was cancelled.
"Pipe burst," he says with a shrug, a much calmer reaction to the news than he'd had only a few hours ago when he'd gone ballistic and kicked the tyres of his van.
"I'm sorry Eddie, you were really excited." He smiles down at you, even if you can't see it. Suddenly feeling overwhelming affection for you. He shrugs again and pulls you closer, holding on to you just a little tighter.
"So, do you come here often without me? Think I might be developing a complex here princess." Even in the dark you can hear the smirk in his voice and you use your head to jab him just a little in the ribs at his insinuation.
"Better when you're here," you mumble, resting your head again against his soft body. "Just needed you."
Eddie bites back a smile, knowing that you would never dare say that in the light of day but somehow between the darkness and the late, or early, hour, everything said between you both seems like a secret, your own little world created where nothing is out of bounds.
"How did your exam go?" He asks, still slowly running his ringer fingers across your back.
"Sssh, too much talking," you say with a smile, not wanting to think about the day before. He understands, it was a Munson's best quality after all to know when talking wasn't beneficial; when being arrested, in an argument with your woman and just occasionally when the moment was so perfect no words would be good enough.
"Coffees on me in the morning," he says, his eyes closing as he feels your breathing even out again, your body sinking further into him as sleep begins to take over.
"Mmmm, sounds nice," you say lightly, the tiredness and proximity to sleep so clear in your voice that it makes Eddie smile out into the dark room.
"Donuts too," he adds, kissing the top of your head as it rests on his chest, feeling prouder than he'd ever felt before. You'd found comfort in him and in turn he'd found comfort in you too, both of you slowly sailing off to sleep surrounded by each other, the pains of the day before disappearing entirely.
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#emeritusemeritus#emeritusemerituswrites#eddie munson comfort fic#eddie munson taglist#eddie munson masterlist#eddie munson x you#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson x reader#eddie Munson#stranger things#stranger things 4#wayne munson
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Eddie posts a Tiktok that starts with him wedging himself between Steve and Wayne on the couch. He gives Steve a smile that all mischief as he says, “You know what being in Wayne trailer reminds me of?”
Steve, who knows what that kind of smile means: Don’t
Eddie: Remember before Wayne knew we were dating-
Wayne: *scoffs at the notion that there was a time before he knew they were dating*
Eddie, rolling his eyes: Okay, fine. Wayne always knew because we were super obvious, whatever. He has excellent gaydar. Before we told Wayne.
Eddie: Steve would stay over a lot and if a Wayne wasn’t working, he’s sleep on the couch so he didn’t suspect nothin.’ That was the arrangement until Wayne said…
Eddie, in his Wayne-ist voice: Eddie, get your boy in your room so I can hear myself think at night.
Eddie: ‘Cause you know, Steve snores and it was keeping Wayne up.
Steve: I didn’t snore back then!
Eddie: You definitely did, but my point is. Talk about the quietest blow-
Steve, smacking Eddie’s arm: Shut up! That’s not- We did not! Ever. Not where - So, just be quiet.
There’s a beat of silence and Wayne turns the page in the newspaper he was reading. Then he says completely straight-faced “Sure was a squeaky bed” and Eddie busts out laughing.
Steve just leaves.
#anyways I believe that Wayne and Eddie would be comfortable talking about anything#whereas the only conversation Steve ever had with an authority figure about sex was Tommy’s dad randomly deciding to give them a#descriptive and partly inaccurate sex Ed lesson on the car ride to an away game#Wayne and Eddie bond over embarrassing Steve#eddie munson tiktok saga#steve harrington#eddie munson
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It’s the stupid Garfield mug that does it.
Eddie tries to hide it because he doesn’t want to seem ungrateful to Steve, but he gets lonely sometimes.
He’s still in hiding, mostly healed up from the bats, staying with Steve while they wait for Hopper to sweep it all under the rug. No one would ever expect Eddie Munson to be at Steve Harrington’s house, it’s the perfect cover.
Not only was Steve surprisingly nice enough to let Eddie stay there, he also took care of him through the worst of it. He didn’t seem to mind having to stay home every night and every weekend, definitely not what Eddie was expecting from the party boy he used to hate from afar.
Now Steve’s the nice guy who spoon-fed Eddie soup and gave him orange juice through a damn straw and even helped him to the bathroom when he could barely move.
He’s too nice and sweet and funny sometimes. He even has a beat up copy of Lord of the Rings from Dustin that he squints at until Eddie gets tired of watching him strain, then let’s Eddie read to him. Eddie knows Steve does it more for him than for himself. Hell, Steve even comes home right after work most days, just to keep Eddie company.
Eddie can’t have many visitors, they don’t want to raise suspicion with too much traffic at Steve’s house, so it’s mostly just him and Steve. Eddie doesn’t mind, he’s halfway in love with him and gets closer to falling head over heels every day. He loves being here with Steve but sometimes… Steve reminds him of Wayne.
Every morning, Steve watches the news. Eddie teased him about it, saying he has the soul of a middle aged Dad. It’s stupid, but watching Steve mosey around the living room before work, drinking coffee and getting absorbed in the TV when an interesting story comes on, it makes Eddie miss Wayne, who does the exact same thing.
It’s so stupid how it’s simple things that make Eddie feel 2 seconds away from breaking. Not having to be quiet during the day because Wayne’s not there sleeping after his night shift. Looking at the wall and not seeing Wayne’s endless collection of hats and mugs. Not hearing the squeak of the old couch when Wayne sits down to take his boots off.
It’s so stupid but it all makes Eddie’s chest feel so tight and empty he can hardly breathe.
But he’s grateful to Steve for letting him be here, so he doesn’t dare complain about what’s missing when Steve’s already given him so much.
One morning, Eddie’s sitting on the counter and Steve gives him his coffee. It’s just how Eddie likes it, sweet and creamy, but he can’t drink it.
Steve used a different mug than usual, and Eddie can’t stop staring at it, orange and round. Wayne has one like it. It reminds Eddie of the Garfield mug that hangs by the door in their trailer. That tight feeling gnaws at his chest, and he sits there staring at it so long his coffee goes cold.
“Everything okay, Eds? Did I not put enough sugar or something? Do you need a straw again today?”
Steve’s voice startles him out of his thoughts, he flinches and the mug slips out of his hand, falling to the kitchen tile, shattered.
Eddie curses while Steve rushes to clean it up, telling him to stay put when he tries to get down and help.
That, too, reminds Eddie of Wayne.
He can’t help it then, he just laughs. It feels tight in his throat, sounds almost painful, but he laughs so hard he feels tears prickling the corner of his eyes.
Steve just stares at him, leaving the broken mug in his concern for Eddie, asking carefully, “Hey, what’s so funny? You alright?”
Eddie shakes his head, laughs dying down. “You know those mugs on the wall at my trailer?”
Steve looks confused, nodding.
“They’re Wayne’s, he collects them. I used to tell him it was lame and he should invest in something cool like hanging guitars or records,” Eddie goes on, grinning, reminiscing, “He’d always just laugh and tell me that cliche line, one man’s trash is another man’s treasure, boy. I never understood you buying all them amps either, paying money to make noise.”
Steve smiles but he’s still watching Eddie carefully.
“Those damn mugs,” Eddie laughs again, rubbing his eyes, “There’s a Garfield one that leaks from how many times I knocked it over running out the door trying not to be late to school, and Wayne had to superglue it back together. He’d never even get mad about it, just snap at me to be careful because he didn’t want me getting hurt.”
Eddie laughs even harder, his chest twisting and writhing but it feels good, like he’s finally letting himself breathe, gasping for air. He doesn’t know when his laughs turn into sobs, but he assumes it’s around the time when Steve steps forward and gently wraps him in a hug.
They’ve never hugged before. Eddie doesn’t know how he could miss something he’s never had but that’s what hugging Steve feels like. He’s missing his Uncle, he’s missing a piece of himself but he feels close to complete somehow right there in Steve’s arms. He holds on tight, smearing tears into Steve’s t-shirt.
“I miss him, Steve,” he sniffs, bottom lip wobbling, “I miss those damn mugs.”
“I know,” Steve rubs his back, soothing, “I promise you'll see him again, Eds. And those damn mugs.”
Eddie laughs wetly and squeezes him tighter.
Within the next week, Steve keeps his promise.
Eddie almost drops to his knees when he sees it, has to rub his eyes to make sure he’s not imagining it, but it’s there.
Right there on the wall in the Harrington living room, there’s three mugs hanging up. Not just any mugs, Eddie recognizes all three. A green one that used to hang next to Wayne’s coat, an Indiana State one that went above the couch, and the cracked up Garfield one that leaks next to the trailer door.
“Steve, what—”
“I tried to get more, but Wayne was already suspicious by my third visit this week,” Steve shrugs innocently, “It’s just like home, right?”
Eddie’s torn between bursting into tears or laughter at the thought of Steve sneaking out of his trailer with coffee mugs in his pocket one by one, “You stole my Uncles mugs, Harrington?”
“I figured he’ll forgive me when I bring his nephew back safe and sound soon,” Steve smiles, charming as ever, “And if he presses charges, well, it’ll be worth it just seeing the look on your face right now.”
Eddie's chest spreads with warmth, his heart so full it could almost burst.
“Get over here, you little thief.”
Steve's grinning as he strolls right over to Eddie and wraps his arms around him. They've hugged a lot since that first time, but they've never kissed before, not even in Eddie's wildest dreams has he kissed Steve Harrington, but it's happening.
Eddie can't describe it, feeling Steve's lips on his, safe in his arms, warm in his embrace, but it feels a little bit like home.
#here's some free eddie angst with a dash of comfort from steve yum#steddie#steddie ficlet#steddie fanfiction#steddie headcanon#steddie fluff#eddie munson#rueswriting#my fic#mp#steve harrington#steveddie#stranger things 4#eddie x steve#steddie fic rec#wayne munson#my fics
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Wayne sees it all happen from his armchair. He’s quiet, hidden away in the corner, so usually the kids forget he’s even there within the hour. He enjoys being on the fringe of his nephew’s new group of friends from there, simply observing them, watching them from behind his newspaper, tuning in and out of whatever it is they’re talking about. Every now and then, one of them comes up to him for a chat or to offer him a drink, but they mostly leave him alone in his corner, just how he likes it.
He sees how Eddie makes every single one of them feel like the crappy old trailer is a place they can always come home to. He sees how Eddie always makes sure that Max is comfortable in her wheelchair and not missing out on anything going on around them because she can’t see. He notices how he always speaks to Eleven in an extra soft voice, reigning himself in a bit from his usual theatrics in order not to startle her. He hears how he’s never afraid to tell Dustin that he loves him and he sees the way Dustin starts beaming whenever he does. He sees how he makes a habit of taking Will aside from the group for hushed, earnest-looking conversations, and he sees how that always leaves Will with a brightness in his eyes and a smile around his lips. He sees how he plays around with the other two boys, Mike and Lucas, who are all over Eddie every chance they get. He sees how he always has some extra candy at hand for the youngest one, Erica. He sees the softness in his features, the sparkle in his eyes, whenever those kids are around, and it reminds him of how he felt himself, all those years ago, whenever little Eddie would show up at his trailer unexpectedly.
He also sees how embarrassed Eddie is to accept the help of Nancy Wheeler. He notices how she refuses to take no for an answer and shows up multiple nights a week to tutor him. He sees how she strictly refuses to let him get distracted when they’re doing their homework, and he hears the honest heart-to-hearts they have after they’re done. He sees the way Eddie looks at her: like he gained an older sister who is always looking out for him, even though she must be younger than him. Like he’d be completely lost without her.
He sees how much fun Eddie has with Robin Buckley. He sees how much chaos they create whenever they’re together. He listens along as they bond over music, and he tries not to eavesdrop as they talk about their respective hopeless crushes and being queer in a small town in rural Indiana. He sees the way Eddie looks at her: like he gained a twin sister who is exactly like him. Like he understands her in a way he never understood anyone before.
And he especially sees how Eddie feels about Steve Harrington. It’s written all over his face, so it’s really impossible to miss: it’s in the longing gaze in his big brown eyes, the way he shamelessly stares at the boy for minutes on end whenever they’re watching a movie together; it’s in the way he hangs onto every single word the boy says, even when they’re having the most mundane conversations possible; it’s in the way he leans into him, almost as if he isn’t noticing he’s doing it; it’s in the way he loudly laughs at every single one of his jokes, no matter how unfunny they are; it’s in the way he always seems to find some excuse to touch him, brushing their hands together when he hands him a drink or sitting a little bit too close to him on the couch or reaching for his shoulder whenever he makes some kind of flirty remark at him. Wayne sees all of it, but he doesn’t worry. Because he also sees the way in which Steve leans back into Eddie’s touches, he also sees the way in which Steve is constantly staring at Eddie’s lips, he also sees the fond looks Steve can’t seem to stop giving Eddie, and he definitely sees the blush creeping over Steve’s cheeks whenever Eddie is openly flirting with him. He sees it all happen from his armchair and he knows they’ll be alright.
#don't mind me rambling about stranger things#wayne munson my beloved#this has been in my head for so long i just had to get it on paper somehow#idk if it even makes sense but i love the idea of wayne quietly watching all those friendships unfold#opening his home for all these kids#just kind of. being there. in a comforting way#stranger things#wayne munson#eddie munson#steve harrington#steddie#robin buckley#nancy wheeler#the party#not gonna tag all of them lol#fruity ficlet
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‘what if Eddie consoles you crying and he starts laughing and you get offended but he can't help cause you're so cute’
ty to my dear sweet friend for messaging me this idea and allowing me to write for it if u see this iluvm 🫶
tw: injury & blood
“she calmin’ down?” you hear wayne call from the living room. you sigh softly and drop your forehead against eddie’s shoulder, and the boy chuckles and kisses your hair before yelling back,
“all good! bleeding’s stopped.”
you sniffle and eddie kisses you again, before leaning back over your knees, knelt before you, and continuing his work cleaning the wounds.
“…so stupid…” you scold yourself softly.
it had been one of those days where you could feel you were on edge, but there were things to look forward to today so, you’d shoved the feeling down and plastered on a smile. and then it only took that one little event to turn everything on its head, bring you back to earth and scold you for being such an airhead.
you’d arrived to the munson trailer, planning a movie night with eddie — staying in with popcorn and snacks and soda and scary films. grocery bags in hand you’d skipped up the steps — or… attempted to skip up the steps. your foot caught as you hopped up the first, catching you off-guard with a panicked squeal as you tripped forward. thankfully the bags were light enough you could brace your hands against the door and shield your head, but your poor knees were scraped to kingdom come as you heavily fell to them and skidded, blood dripping down your calves as wayne had opened the door to you and immediately ushered you inside as you began to wail.
“heyy!” eddie whines, looking up at you sat on the edge of his bed. “don’t say that about my most favorite person ever.”
“i wasn’t talking about wayne,” you attempt to joke. eddie tilts his head and narrows eyes at you.
“wayne doesn’t count, babe, he’s like… the person. don’t call yourself stupid, okay?” he kisses the knee that’s already bandaged and continues his work on the other.
you sniffle again and watch your boyfriend diligently dab away debris from the wound, being so careful and gentle with you. now and then he’d kiss the red skin surrounding it, stroke a thumb over your thigh and offer a reassuring smile. every time you winced he’d back off immediately with a soft apology, looking up to gain your consent to keep going.
and then you think about wayne taking the bags from you carefully as you cried on his doorstep, setting them aside and then quickly taking hold of your arms — just barely holding you, worried he’d somehow hurt you more just by touching you — bringing you inside the trailer and walking you to his comfy recliner. he’d sat you down and knelt in front of you, just like eddie was doing now, and he held your hands in his and watched you as he spoke in the smoothest tone.
“ooookay, oooookay, you’re alright, kid, you’re alright. you’re okay. just some bad scrapes, yeah? bet that fall was scary. munsons’ll fix y’right up. can’t tell you how many times that boy’s come home all banged up and uncle wayne had to glue him back together. this ain’t nothin’. i know it hurts, sweetie, just breathe. we gotcha.”
you’d felt like a child getting scooped up, rescued by the brave adult — the mighty uncle wayne. never once did he or eddie chide you when your emotions got the best of you.
a question you’d asked yourself plenty by now rings at the front of your brain — ‘what did i do to deserve these boys??’
you sniffle again and the tiniest whisper of a whimper leaves you, eddie looks up quickly and immediately his expression drops as he sees your face scrunched up, trying to hold back the knot in your throat while the tears streamed anyway.
“hey! hey what’s up?? why’re you cryin’? did-did somethin’ i do hurt?”
you can only hiccup, uttering that heavy, shuddering sigh that came hand-in-hand with those big tears. eddie can’t help the soft laughter, because he realizes suddenly you’re not crying ‘cause of the hurt this time. you’re crying because everything is a lot. you’re crying because despite that, you have help. you’re crying because without asking, you were being taken care of by people you loved; reminding you they loved you too. he sees your brow furrowed as you look at each other, looking at him with big watery eyes, fingers twisting into the hem of your shirt. eddie knows. and he can’t help it, ‘cause when you cry like this it makes your cheeks all rosy. makes you tender and shy with him, makes you whimper and squeak and god he can’t help that he thinks you’re just the cutest when you cry like this.
“s-s’not funny! wh-why’re yo-you laughing?”
“i-i’m not! i’m not laughing at you, i-i…” he stutters and then growls softly in frustration and snorts and grins as he just cups your cheeks and pulls you down to kiss you softly. “you’re just so fucking sweet. i’m sorry you got hurt. c’mere. you’re okay. c’mere.”
you cry freely and eddie just breathes soft laughter as you lean down to him and wrap arms around his shoulders, burying your face in him as you let the frustrations melt away with his warmth.
you cry because you have eddie, and you have wayne, and you have help and comfort and reassurance even when you don’t ask for it.
#heavily inspired by how much i love my friend i love her a lot ok u dont understand#eddie munson#wayne munson#stranger things#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson drabble#eddie munson ficlet#eddie munson comfort#mine#1k#2k#3k#4k
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Part One / Part Two / Part Three (you're here)/ Part Four
A03
It ain’t much.” Wayne started, half-curious if the sight of his trailer would be the thing to offend Steve’s (so far lacking) born-rich sensibilities.
Of course turning to look at the kid proved he was in his own head about this more than Steve was, because Steve had his eyes closed and looked two seconds away from puking.
Right.
Pain management.
“I’ll get your stuff.” Wayne said as he guided the truck to its usual parking spot.
Steve’s quiet ‘okay’ had him hustling a little bit, and the fact he had to gently guide the kid’s hand off his bag handle told him it was the right choice.
The nailbat could wait in the car for the moment he figured, as he led Harrington in. He’d get it sorted once he’d fished out the pain pills and gotten Steve settled a bit.
"Eds--he's my nephew that I told you about--has the bedroom, so you and I get to share out here." Wayne explained as he loaded Steve up on Tylenol and put a bag of frozen peas in his hand, not bothering to give a tour of the trailer.
It was pretty damn clear which door led to the bathroom and which didn’t, given Ed’s door was wide open.
Steve peeked at the absolute chaos strewn about beyond the doorframe but didn’t say nothing of it.
Didn’t, in fact, even look too long, instead sitting at the table as directed.
Seemed to sink a little into it, leaning an elbow on the cheap wood to help keep his head up.
"The couch is a pull out, but I'll warn you the bar across the middle is nasty. I usually sleep on the cot over there," Wayne nodded to where it was rolled neatly against the opposite wall, "but given the state of you, I'll let ya have your pick."
Steve blinked (or winked, not like Wayne could tell since the peas were pressed against half of his face) finally seeming to perk up a bit. "I can't take your bed."
"I'm not going to fight you for it, I'm just offering." Wayne responded, now focused on trying to locate the bandages in his ancient medical kit.
The one on Steve's hand was falling apart, and he didn't like the look of the injury he could see under it.
Yeah, Wayne was absolutely going to need to make a run to the store.
“Lemme see.” He asked as he finally got what he wanted.
It seemed to take Harrington a minute to process what Wayne wanted, but he finally held out his injured hand, watching as Wayne unwrapped the bandages.
"I'll take the couch." Steve said stubbornly, but Wayne was past it, too busy frowning at the kid's hand.
It took him a moment, once he'd gotten it all off, to properly realize what he was seeing--that the mottled bruising on Steve's wrist was separate from the cut across his palm.
In fact, it looked a hell of a lot like…
Wayne paused, then pretended to fuss with the dirty bandages for a moment while his eyes sought out Steve's other wrist.
Sure enough, matching bruises.
Someone had tied the kid up--and it hadn’t been the feds, because these bruises were partially healed.
Wayne had initially thought of Steve as having been tortured in the same way roving bands of neighborhood kids tortured their peers. The kind of hurt that came when it was an unfair fight; four on one and wielding knives, so you had to take what you were given and pray you didn't get stabbed.
He was not thinking actual, honest to God torture.
Yet here the evidence was, plain as day.
'What the hell went down in that mall.'
Someone as young as Steve shouldn't have been caught up in it, and it made a deep part of Wayne ache for the poor kid across from him.
All this shit, and his parents still couldn't be bothered to come home.Just left him on his own, as if it was another Tuesday.
Did they even know? Wayne wondered as he got to work. Had Steve, or Hopper, or anyone tried to call them about the mallfire? Let them know their son got hurt?
Jim said he hadn’t bothered to reach out regarding the spooks, but that had been a week or so later past the fire.
Wayne couldn’t even imagine it.
Getting a call that Eddie been involved in such a thing would have him off the couch in an instant, and the image that played on the news, the ones all the reporters talked over of a gurney being wheeled out of Starcourt’s on fire front doors…
He’d have been a wreck until he had his kid in his sights.
‘Nothing you can do for that,’ Wayne figured silently, ‘but you can help him now.’
Wayne wasn't exactly an expert when it came to wound care, but like many people who just couldn't afford to go to a doctor he'd gotten by.
Learned a lot of home remedies. Figured out pretty quick when something needed to be seen by an expert and when you could hold off.
Made friends with some of the local nurses on the night shift down at the Red Barn, well enough that a few well baked treats and dishes could sometimes be traded for looking over a potentially broken arm or two.
It had come in handy plenty, given Ed’s ability to attract trouble, but thankfully he’d never managed to hurt himself like this.
He’d never even gotten caught in a bad fight.
A black eye or two sure, but the kid had adapted his “scary” act not too long after Wayne had gotten him, and it seemed to work as intended. It was half the reason Wayne never said anything about it (and hell, even let Eddie take his ancient leather motorcycle jacket.) .
All of that was to say that he could tell Harrington's hand needed cleaning before it could be rebandaged, but didn't appear to need stitches.
Course pouring alcohol all over an injury like this wasn't exactly going to be fun, and he told Steve as such.
"I know." Steve replied, with a grimace. The kid’s injuries seemed to be getting to him, and Wayne anticipated he was going to drop here the second Wayne was done looking him over.
He hoped Harrington could get in a few hours--particularly before Eddie came home.
Wayne gently wiped it clean, noting how well Steve sat given the amount of pain he had to be in.
Tylenol, even given the more than recommended amount he'd given Steve, just wasn't going to cut it.
Not in general, and definitely not for this.
What could help was likely something Eds had, which was yet another conversation Wayne wasn't looking forward to having.
Particularly given that Eds had sworn off selling hard drugs after his last encounter with Hopper, and Wayne knew damn well that had only lasted until the damn kid caught sight of an overdue bill.
Too smart for his own good, Eddie was.
"I can give you something to bite down on, if you like." Wayne said to Steve, getting the alcohol and bandages ready to go.
He got a tight smile in response. "So long as you don't use a needle, I'm good."
And Wayne figured it was just teenager talk--a young man who didn't really know how bad this was going to be, and prepared himself to hold Steve's arm down accordingly so they wouldn't have to do it twice.
"Four." Wayne counted down. "Three. Two."
He poured on two.
Better that than Steve clenching up in anticipation.
Steve hissed, arm jerking, but stilled it under his own power as Wayne began dabbing his hand with some of the medkit’s wipes.
He felt his eyebrow raise as Harrington froze himself in place, breathing in a way that felt practiced.
This, Wayne decided, was not Steve's first rodeo.
"Almost done." He promised softly as he finished wrapping the wound back up, this time in the pattern he'd been shown long ago.
"Thanks." Steve said, blinking rapidly.
The kid's eyes were wet, but he didn't let a tear fall, and that perked Wayne's attention more than anything.
Some men felt they weren't allowed to cry--and pushed the same ideals on their sons.
It wouldn't surprise him any if Richard Harrington was one of them.
"I know you got hit more than just your hands and face kid." Wayne said, after letting Steve have a moment to recover. "You bleeding under that shirt?"
"Not bleeding." Steve murmured, looking more and more like he was struggling to stay upright now that the worst part was over. "I think my hand got the worst of it."
"Do I want to know what happened there?" Wayne asked, keeping his voice calm and non judgemental.
Like they were back to talking sports.
"I fell back into a broken window.” Steve responded, and now that Wayne had seen the kid lie, it was easy to see when he was telling the truth.
"Ouch." Wayne said flatly. Which made that hint of a smile flash across Steve's face.
"I'll cut you a deal. I taped last weekend's game, but haven't had time to watch it yet. I figure you might not have had a chance neither." He sat back, nailing Harrington with a no-nonsense stare. "You let me take a look at what they did to your chest n' back there, and I'll put it on."
Steve just looked at him a little miserably, a beaten dog still hesitant to wag its tail. "I don't think there's anything you can do for it, it's really mostly bruised. Nothing feels broken though."
"You know what broken ribs feel like?" Wayne questioned partially out of curiosity but mostly to make sure.
Teenage boys loved to think themselves immortal after all.
Or at least his did.
"Cracked, but yeah." Steve admitted. "Couldn't finish out the year on the basketball team because of it."
He said it like it didn't hurt, but Wayne knew better.
Boy like Steve?
He'd bet big bills something like basketball was all the kid really had, in terms of positive relationships.
(Except apparently, whatever had made Hopper decide to look after him.)
"I mostly just wanna make sure nothing looks like it's broken or bleeding internally son." Wayne said, then tried to cinch it with some good old guilt tripping. "I'd hate to have to tell Hopper that after all he went through to keep you safe, you up and died on my couch."
"Hey, it might save him some future gray hairs." Steve responded but he looked a little more open to the idea, at least.
It took a bit more coaxing, but Wayne finally got the kid to take his shirt off.
The damage had him whistling out of instinct.
A fucking artist had gone to town on his torso, with bruised of all shades parading around to his left side.
Thankfully most of it didn't hold that deep, dark tone that indicated any kind of bleeding, his back had scratches and road rash, and his shoulder had one long, thin line that looked a hell of a lot like Steve had narrowly avoided getting cut with a knife.
"You got lucky, kid." Wayne told him.
Steve let out a shaky breath. "I know."
He hesitated, then opened his mouth, a question clear on his face.
Which of course, was the exact moment Eddie chose to walk through the door.
"Hey old man, I--Harrington!?"
"Munson?" Steve said, looking just as confused. "What are you doing here?"
"I live here?" Eddie had frozen in their little entryway, so close the door nearly whacked him on the ass as it slammed closed.
Privately, Wayne cursed his nephew's awful timing.
"What are you doing here?" Eddie challenged back, and it was only years of Wayne knowin’ the kid to see he was struggling to decide how he wanted to react.
“Uh…” Steve said, trailing off and looking pointedly at Wayne.
Eddie saw this just as he registered all of Steve’s injuries. “Shit Wayne, did you hit him with your car?”
“Don’t try to be funny, boy.” Wayne warned. There wasn’t much bite there, and Eddie, far too used to him, didn’t take it seriously.
Eddie was glued to the spot, eyes narrowing, “... Did Harrington hit the car with his fuckin’ face? Jesus christ.”
Wayne could tell he was struggling to pull one of his usual little bits, eyes too wide and voice too high.
He rubbed his eyes tiredly. “Eddie.”
“We can take him out back and shoot him, put the poor bastard out of his misery.” Eddie continued, like a runaway train.
All gas, no breaks.
It was a joke but a poor one, and it made Steve straighten out of his sideways slant.
‘Dammit.’ Wayne thought with a sigh.
He needed to stop this now, before the two of them went for each other's throats.
“Since you already know each other I won’t bother with introductions.” Wayne cut in, before Eddie could blow up like a tea kettle--or cause Harrington to do the same. “Steve’s gonna be staying with us for a while.”
That of course, got the reaction Wayne had been hoping to avoid.
Eddie stood stunned for a second, mouth gaping like a fish.
“Why!?” He finally landed on, seeming both at a loss for words, and equally trying not to have a proper meltdown in front of Steve.
Certainly wasn’t for Wayne’s benefit.
"I'm…" Steve glanced at Wayne a second time, "...on vacation?"
It took everything Wayne had in him not to run a hand down his face.
He was going to give Harrington a pass, on account of the head trauma.
"You’re vacationing here.”Eddie’s tone was flat, but seething, like a lit fuse. “In my living room?”
“...Yeah?” He finished poorly tone up-ticking at the end like it was a question. “It’s a--college thing. Supposed to help my applications.”
This time, Wayne did run a hand down his face this time.
God save him from idiot teenagers.
Hands clenched tight, Eddie took an aborted glance to the right before shaking his head hard and scoffing. At least it let Wayne know exactly what his kid was thinking.
To Eddie’s right was the counter where Wayne kept the bills.
Before he realized just how badly Ed’s daddy had messed him up about such things, Wayne hadn’t bothered to hide the bills that were past due. Turns out the kid noticed such things, and worry over money had been the leading factor in more than one of Eddie’s run-ins with Hop.
Clearly, he thought it was the cause of Wayne entertaining this bullshit.
Offense was written in every rigid line of his body, and Wayne knew betrayal wasn’t gonna be far behind.
“What the hell Wayne!” Eddie spat, taking a singular step forward, the accent he tried so hard to hide growing thicker the madder he got. “We’re not a damn experiment--why would you agree to that!?”
He had seconds to salvage this, before Ed’s ran and did something dumb.
“‘Steve’s here cause I owe Hopper a favor.” Wayne answered honestly, standing to put himself between the two. “He reminded me of all the times he’s been good to you, and then he called it in. Now,”
He cut Eddie off before his rant could pick up steam and bowl them all over. “I need you both to listen to me. Steve, I need Eddie to know the basics in order to keep you safe. I’ll only tell him what he needs to hear to understand why that is.”
Steve stared at him for a moment, catching Wayne’s eye as the elder man positioned himself so he could see both boys at once.
“Okay.” Steve said, dropping the hesitant tone for something serious.
Eddie said nothing, crossing his arms tightly over his chest and gripping the edges of his jacket hard enough to leave creases.
Judging that as good enough, Wayne continued. “He’s not here on vacation, Ed’s. Hopper has asked us to house Steve for a bit due to an ongoing situation. It’s a dangerous one, and it’s important you do not tell anyone that Steve is here.”
Eddie’s mouth did the thing it did when he desperately wanted to say something, but Wayne held up a finger in the universal “wait.” position.
“Let me finish.” He warned, and though he caught a hell of a glare for it, Eddie remained silent.
“Right now I need you to trust me, son.” He said softly, and prayed that alone was enough for now. “I don’t do things without a good reason behind it. I know you know that. Let me get Steve settled, and I’ll come talk to you.”
He could go in depth a little more, outside of Harrington’s eyesight. There Eddie would be inclined to drop the parts of his personality he put on blast as a defense mechanism, and ideally, Steve could get the sleep he so desperately needed.
“It’ll be tight, but we’ll all get through this so long as you two keep your heads. “You both got plenty of problems right now on your own, you don’t need to add to it. You understand?”
Eddie’s eyes narrowed dramatically as he sucked in a deep breath.
“Fine.” He snarled, letting air hiss through his clenched teeth. “As long as King Dick here can keep himself out of my shit.”
Steve didn’t rise to the bait--or perhaps, was simply too tired to want to do anything but exit the conversation.
‘Yes Sir.” He said instead, and Wayne didn’t bother correcting him that time. Simply clocked the title as a nervous tick of Steve’s and let himself feel that brief pang of sorrow that he’d caused the kid to backslide a bit trust wise.
No use for it, though.
Not if he wanted peace in his home.
“Good.” Wayne said.
Eddie stormed past, beeling towards his room.
The door closed with an angry slam, the sound echoing throughout the trailer.
Steve reacted like a puppet with its strings cut, letting out his own breath and going right back to slumping sideways.
“Come on kid.” Wayne said quietly. “I think it’s beyond time you got to lay down. Let’s get you a shirt and some blankets.”
Steve didn’t say a word, just managed to get himself up and over to the couch, fumbling for his bag.
“Oh.” He said after a moment, pulling a green sweater from the duffel and blinking dully at it. “Shit--I mean, shoot.” He shot a guilty look to Wayne, like Eddie hadn’t just sworn up a storm in front of them both.
“What’s the matter?” Wayne just asked.
“It’s nothing, I just-- grabbed the wrong bag.” Steve told him earnestly. It was clear the day had taken a hard toll on him, because he was blinking rapidly, fighting away sleep.
A bad sign, given the energy Eddie had just come in with.
It should be taking him longer to feel safe to drop off, and that he was doin’ so anyway was a bad testament to the state of him.
“You need a different one?”
Steve shook his head. “No this is just my grab bag for the Upsi-errrm.” He hummed, before falling silent for a minute.
Wayne let him fish for words at his leisure.
“These are just clothes that I couldn’t get stains out of, kept them as backups.” Steve managed, before beginning the long process of pulling a shirt on.
Wayne almost offered to help, except he knew he’d likely be rejected. It was too soon, the trust between them not there yet.
He almost let the clothing comment go, figured it as just one of those things the brain did when it was injured and run down. The sweater Steve was struggling with was expensive and soft, and Wayne didn’t even see a stain until the poor kid finally finished getting it on.
He nearly froze, for the second time that day, when he did.
On one sleeve, smeared like Steve had wiped his face with it, was a bloodstain.
This one was old, and clearly attempts had been made to get it out.
‘Aw kid.’ He thought, staring at Steve as the kid managed to swing himself up on the couch, looking seconds away from dropping off. ‘What the hell has life done to you.’
It didn’t take long before sleep took him, but Wayne watched over him for a bit longer anyway, working up to what the hell he was going to tell his kid.
Eddie might very well not forgive him for this, but Wayne had a shot now to head things off before they got worse.
He just had to find the right words.
#small town rumors#steddie#pre steddie#wayne pov#outsider pov#wayne munson is a bamf#hey look eddie showed up!#little shit FOUGHT ME and is still fighting me a bit in the next chapter#I need him to quit being an asshole and go into more of that hurt/comfort section of this fic#hurt/comfort#enemies to lovers#sorta#its on a03 noooowstranger things#eddie munson#steve harrington#0o0 fanfics#beat to shit steve harrington
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count on your courage
for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is what makes you brave'
rated t | 1,508 words | cw: coming out (one goes horribly wrong offscreen, one goes perfectly right), steve gets kicked out | tags: wayne munson is the best uncle, secret relationship, steve has bad parents, hurt/comfort, wayne adopts steve
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Steve should've gone to Robin's probably.
But when you're in a state of shock after being kicked out of your house because your dad found a handwritten love note from your boyfriend, you don't always think clearly.
He was sitting outside the trailer, on the gravel driveway, rocks digging into his ass and thighs, thinking about how uncomfortable the back seat of his car was for sleeping. He managed to grab his sandwich bag of savings, which was barely enough for a motel for a couple of weeks, but maybe he'd find a place that would be more understanding.
After Vecna, most places were open to any arrangement on payment as long as they got something.
"Steve?" Eddie's voice filtered to him from the front door of the trailer.
It wasn't until he heard Eddie's voice that he realized Wayne's truck was parked next to Eddie's van, which meant Wayne was home, which meant Wayne would be confused as hell.
Eddie's hands were on his shoulders, worried and tugging him out of his own thoughts.
"Hey," Steve said.
"What're you doin' here, Stevie? You said you weren't comin' over because you have an early shift tomorrow," Eddie's eyes were wide, and Steve realized he must assume there's an emergency.
"Oh. I did say that." Steve sighed. "I actually don't know why I came here."
"Shit, Steve. Did you hit your head? Is it...you know?"
"No. To both. Just-" Steve didn't want to alarm him, but he did have to say what was going on. "My parents kicked me out. Well, my dad did. My mom just kinda...let him?"
"What? Jesus Christ, Stevie. Come inside, you're shivering," Eddie pulled him up so he was standing awkwardly in front of him. "How long have you been out here?"
"Dunno," he shrugged. Which was true. He knew his parents got home around five, and his dad had stormed out of his office around six, yelling about Steve's belongings being where they shouldn't be. It didn't take long after that for all hell to break loose. "What time is it now?"
Eddie looked down at his watch. "A little after nine."
"Huh. I guess close to two hours."
Eddie cussed under his breath, then wrapped an arm around Steve's waist.
It's not like they had to worry about being seen; What used to be a full trailer park now mostly consisted of the Munson's new trailer and Max's trailer that was only inhabited for a few hours a night, if that.
"Ed? Everthin' okay?" Wayne called from the porch.
Steve looked up, panicked.
It's not that he hadn't been around Wayne plenty of times, especially while Eddie was in the hospital. He'd run into him a few times at the trailer as he passed through the kitchen to pack his lunch for work or when he was heading to bed when Steve was picking Eddie up for work.
It was more like he felt like everything was written clear across his face, and if Wayne found out about him, he'd find out about Eddie, and what if he kicked Eddie out?
They couldn't both be homeless.
Eddie didn't verbally respond, but he must have done something to let Wayne know everything wasn't okay.
"C'mon in then," he gestured, opening the front door for them both to walk through. "Get that blanket off my chair for him."
Steve didn't know why he needed a blanket, it's not like it was even cold.
But as he was gently pushed down onto the couch, he noticed how much he actually was shivering, and realized he must've forgotten his jacket in his haste to leave his house. It wasn't winter, but the chill in at night was too much to be outside without a jacket.
The blanket was soft, and smelled a lot like Wayne's cologne, the one he insisted he didn't wear, but Steve could always smell just a hint of it lingering in the air after he left the room. It was a comforting smell, one he'd gotten used to in the background. One he'd come to associate with Eddie, and calm, and home.
He could hear Wayne and Eddie whispering by the kitchen counter, but couldn't quite focus on the words they were saying.
Wayne sat down across from him, right on the coffee table, like it wasn't a piece of furniture specifically designed for holding things that were never touched. Eddie sat down next to him, leaving no space, and no way to mistake how close they were.
He tried to scoot away, just leave a few inches of space so Wayne wouldn't question it. Eddie's hand on his knee stopped him.
"You wanna tell me about what's going on?" Wayne asked softly.
"I'm fine-"
"I didn't ask if you were fine. I asked if you wanted to tell me what was goin' on." Wayne's voice was gruff, but his face was open, his body leaning in closer to them so he could listen to what Steve had to say. "You ain't gotta tell me everythin', but if you're gonna be stayin', I'd like to know why you look scared outta your mind."
Eddie's hand moved to his back, rubbing in circles, comforting. "It's okay, sweetheart."
Wayne didn't even flinch at the pet name.
Maybe he was just used to Eddie being a bit too loose with his words, or maybe he actually knew.
"My parents um," Steve silently asked Eddie for permission to say more. Eddie nodded. "They found a note from Eddie to me. And they figured out some stuff about um..."
"It's alright. He knows about me," Eddie said softly.
"Go on, kid," Wayne said.
"They found out that he's my boyfriend from the note, and they didn't want their letdown of a son in their house anymore. I had to grab what I could in just a couple minutes and get out."
Wayne's hand rested on his knee now. "Thanks for tellin' me, son."
Steve broke.
The tears came so quickly, so viciously, he couldn't breathe. Eddie's arms wrapped around him, pulled him tight to his chest.
Wayne's hand was on his back, an extra comforting weight as he let the events of the evening sink in.
His parents didn't love him, didn't want him, didn't even care to hear about how lucky he was to finally have someone who got him.
But Wayne was here, showing him acceptance.
Eddie was here, holding him and loving him through this.
And when Robin heard, she'd be by his side, making threats that would make him laugh.
Eventually, he would tell the others, maybe even Hopper.
But for now, he held the courage Eddie gave him close to his chest, used this as a practice run.
"I'm gonna make us some hot chocolate. You got any stuff in your car to bring in?" Wayne asked.
"Just one bag."
"We'll get it in the mornin'. You can borrow some of Ed's clothes tonight. And you let me worry about gettin' your stuff. Me and Jim can handle it." Wayne stood up and started walking towards the kitchen. "And Steve?"
"Yeah?" he pulled away to wipe his eyes and look at Wayne, who was smiling at him.
"I don't expect ya to pay rent, but I do expect ya to help with chores. Your days for dishes can be Mondays and Thursdays and you'll be in charge of groceries one week a month. Sound okay to you?"
He blinked back at Wayne, confused.
"You can share a room with Eds, but remember the walls are thin."
"Wayne!" Eddie choked out.
Steve laughed, genuinely happy on a night when he was sure he'd be miserable for days to come. "We'll behave."
Wayne knocked once on the doorway and walked out of sight.
Steve turned to Eddie and kissed him once on the lips, a quick peck.
"You okay with me living here? Wayne kinda just invited me without talking to you," Steve felt himself blush.
"I want you to be safe and happy, right here with me. With us. If that's what you want."
"Yeah. I want that," Steve rested his head against Eddie's shoulder and sighed. "I'm tired."
"You were brave tonight. Takes a lot outta ya." Eddie kissed the top of his head. "I should know by now that I can always count on your courage, though."
"What do you mean?"
"Took me three years to admit to Wayne that I was gay. Took you three minutes," Eddie let out a quiet laugh. "You amaze me."
"You're being sappy," Steve said into his shirt.
"Let me be a little sappy."
Steve could hear the words he wasn't saying, had felt them plenty of times over the last couple of weeks, maybe months. The 'I love you' that was hidden under sappy words, hidden under the blanket wrapped around him being adjusted by worried hands, hidden in hands that were always touching him to remind him he wasn't alone.
They might be hidden now, but they wouldn't be for long.
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#steddielovemonth#love is what makes you brave#coming out#secret relationship#hurt/comfort#wayne munson#steve has bad parents
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good night, bloodsucker
eddie munson x fem!reader
word count: 2,114
warnings: swearing, a little anxiety, fluff (let me know if i forgot something)
a/n: hi! this is a little short and sweet fic for you. i hope maybe someone will be into it. i’m starting to feel a little better about writing, and this one made me happy, so that’s something. also, this is dedicated to the one and only @clovermunson (the crowd goes wild!!) for having such a lovely brain and trusting me to handle this. i love you all to the moon and back. keep kicking ass. <33
————
Wayne is unable to see the television screen but for a few seconds at a time. It’s making what was meant to be a relaxing night off…anything but relaxing.
He huffs and sets his drink down.
“Boy, would you quit your pacin’?”
The boy in question scoffs, continuing to move back and forth across the room, occasionally pausing to peek out the window or fuss with something on the kitchen counter. It’s like somehow he thinks an idea will swoop in through the panes and seep into his brain. Like it will materialize before him and all will be resolved.
It’s been another five minutes of this when the elder Munson can’t take it anymore.
“Eddie!”
“WAYNE!”
He rubs his temple, chuckling at his nephew’s panic. He pauses the tv.
“You gotta calm down, kid.”
Eddie slams his hands up against his face so hard that the slap resonates throughout the room. He peeks out from between his fingers.
“I know! I know. I just—this is our first date ever, and I have a tendency to be a royal fuck up, and I don’t want to ruin this.”
Wayne pats the cushion beside him, encouraging the boy to take a seat.
“You won’t ruin it. She said yes to going on with you, didn’t she? Now all you gotta do is be yourself.”
Eddie rolls his eyes, preparing to argue, but Wayne holds up a hand.
“There’s nothing to worry about, Ed. You’re already friends, aren’t you?”
“Well, yeah—”
“And you want to go out with her?”
“Yeah, I mean—”
“Then I don’t see the problem.”
They both stop speaking, and Eddie looks at Wayne, eyes wide with nerves.
“I don’t know how first dates work, Wayne! Can’t you just tell me what to do?”
Eddie slides down off the couch until he’s flat on the floor.
Wayne scoots forward, looking down at his nephew. He’s much too big to be moping on the carpet. His hair is splayed out around him, and Wayne can’t help but think about how this has been Eddie’s default reaction to anxiety since he got dropped off on his doorstep. Some things never change.
Eddie thinks his uncle looks incredibly wise, looming over him like this. “What plans have you got for tonight?” Wayne asks.
Eddie puts his hands under his head, feigning collectedness. “We’re seeing a movie.”
“Okay. A movie. What else?”
The boy gulps. “I thought I’d take her for ice cream. And that way we could sit and talk or whatever. Shit, is that a bad idea?”
Wayne reaches down and smacks Eddie’s knee, though the gesture is free of malicious intent.
“No. You have a lot of bad ideas, but that isn’t one of them. I’m sure it’ll be fine, kiddo.”
Eddie sits up, mumbling under his breath. “I’m sure it’ll be fine, yeah, yeah.” He almost smacks his head on the coffee table when he stands.
He’s determined not to pace again, so he calmly, unnecessarily slowly, sits back down on the couch. He laces and unlaces his fingers.
“Should I get her flowers?”
“Eddie.” Wayne downs the last of the beer he’d been nursing in one go.
Eddie looks at his watch. He doesn’t even have time for flowers. He’s been panicking for so long that he actually needs to head out so that he can pick you up and you won’t think he forgot about you—
He stands just as quickly as he’d sat down. “I gotta go, Wayne.”
He follows Eddie to the door and meets his eyes. The very same doe eyes that have always gotten him what he wanted. Because Eddie is a suck-up, and Wayne always gives in.
“Just be yourself, alright? You're gonna be fine. Treat her nice, watch out for her. Make sure she’s comfortable. And have a good time.”
Wayne presses a rough kiss to Eddie’s forehead, though it’s over his messy bangs. Wayne Munson is a surprisingly affectionate person, especially towards people he loves, no matter how brooding his demeanor is.
“Okay. Yeah, I got this. I’m a gentleman. It’s gonna be fine.”
Eddie’s halfway to the van when he realizes he was lost in hyping himself up and forgot his keys. Wayne notices though, and tosses them to him from the front steps. It’s pure dumb luck that Eddie catches them.
“Good luck, Ed.”
“You too!”
Wayne sees Eddie smack his head against the steering wheel in anguish. He laughs it off, stepping back inside the now quiet trailer.
“Get a grip, goddammit,” Eddie fusses to himself, pulling out of the park. “Get a damn grip.”
————
“You really have a type, don’t you?”
Eddie’s looking at you, eyes wide with glee, cheeks all rosy from laughing.
“Maybe. But I guess it works in your favor, doesn’t it, Munson?”
He tosses your shared empty popcorn bucket in the trash. You’re still sipping on your Icee, the blue raspberry flavoring having turned your tongue blue.
“That it does.”
Eddie realized after the movie had started that you seemed to have the hots for every damn vampire on the screen. And he couldn’t help but notice the subtle similarities between the looks and interests of those characters and himself.
“It’s not my fault you’re all so pretty.”
He holds the door open for you. It’s one of the many sweet gestures he’s provided you with over the course of the night. He’s opened every door. He ordered your popcorn, helped you up the stairs in the theater, and now he’s waiting while you finish your drink—albeit a little obnoxiously just to tease him.
“Is that a compliment?”
You pull on the chain attached to his belt loop. “Yep. You’re very pretty. And I’m glad I waited to see this with you.”
Eddie’s blushing. He’d try to hide it if he weren’t so intrigued by your words.
“Waited?”
“Yeah, I had a friend ask me to see The Lost Boys with them on opening night, but I really wanted to see it with you. Figured you’d like it, too.”
He leans in and sweetly presses his forehead against yours, just for a moment.
“Well that’s cute. And I did like it. I’m honored you wanted to see it with little ‘ol me.”
“I think I’d like to see all the movies with you.” The words are leaving your mouth before you can second guess yourself, and the look on his face is completely worth it.
“Shit, you really are just making me feel special tonight, huh?”
You’re still messing with the chain on his jeans, but your fingers move upward, finding purchase on a patch sewn onto his vest. The messy stitching feels comforting against the pad of your finger.
“You are very special, Eddie.”
He won’t argue with you. Not when he can tell that you’re being earnest. When it’s practically emanating from you. You think you could dedicate your heart and soul to him, worship him like he’s some ancient deity, and you’d never grow tired of him.
“Right back at you, sweetheart.” You grin at his words, and suddenly he’s feeling loads more confident knowing he can make you so giddy. He can’t believe he landed a date with such a fucking gem.
“You want a milkshake?” he asks, raising a brow.
“‘Course I do. I’m not a psycho.”
Eddie snorts. It’s a cute sound. One you’re very pleased that you got him to make.
“There’s a place up here, on the corner. We can walk, but we have to cross the street a couple times, so I think you’re gonna have to hold my hand.”
You’re sure you’ve never smiled so brightly. So stupidly, head over heels for the boy in front of you. He bends at the waist and extends his hand.
“I think you’re right. That seems like the very best option.”
“Glad we’re on the same page.”
You slide your palm against his, and you’d be embarrassed at the sheer amount of butterflies in your tummy if you weren’t so happy to be holding Eddie’s hand.
His rings collide with your own, and his thumb starts rubbing over yours almost automatically, as if this is something he’s been doing with you forever.
He swings your entwined hands during the short walk, and you don’t know it, but secretly he’s trying to memorize each line, each dry patch or scratch that covers your skin. He could hold your hand forever.
When you’re in line, waiting on the milkshakes he ordered for you, again, you slide your other hand up his arm until it rests on his bicep, and Eddie thinks he might melt right there on the shop floor.
You resting your head on his shoulder just about ruins his life. He catches you looking at his hand, and before he knows it you’re bringing it upward, pressing your lips to the back of it and adjusting the bracelet on his wrist.
“You should let me paint your nails.”
Eddie meets your eyes. He doesn’t look freaked by the idea, rather like he’s contemplating letting you do so.
“Okay. You wanna go next door and find some polish after this?”
You lift your head, and there’s a little mark on your cheek from a crease in his jacket. Eddie presses his thumb against the mark and smiles.
“Really?” you ask.
“Yeah.”
“Okay,” you grin. You squeeze his arm a little tighter, and the look on your face makes Eddie realize Wayne was right. There was nothing to worry about.
————
Eddie’s hand rests on the center console in his van. It’s still parked outside the theater.
You had your cup resting there too, but with each sip you took, chin against the lid, Eddie was still worried you’d spill it. Not because of the mess it’d make, no—he’s made tons of messes in his car. But because he couldn’t bear to see you cry over spilled milkshake. You let him taste it, and it is pretty damn good.
So now, Eddie holds it in the hand that’s supposed to be drying. You lift your head up, and he tilts the straw towards you, allowing you to take a sip. The excitement on your face every time he does it makes him feel like he could sit here and feed you for the rest of his life.
He thinks he may be in deeper than he realized. Hell, he’s allowing you to paint his nails in the van, the window cracked and music turned down lower than it has ever been.
Every once in a while you catch glimpses of conversations coming from the passing moviegoers, and you’ll both giggle simultaneously. This evening has felt like some fever dream, something Eddie never would’ve imagined he’d experience, let alone deserve.
You stick your tongue out and pull up Eddie’s hand, appraising your work. Once satisfied, you start putting on a layer of clear polish. Eddie tries to read the teeny words on the bottle over the lid of his own cup.
“What’s that for?”
“Seals it all in and keeps it on longer. Figured this might give it a chance at outlasting your daily escapades.”
He laughs. It’s a slow, sweet sound, and you wish you could bottle it up and take it home with you.
Eddie holds his nails up to the air vents. You grin at him, tucking the bottles of nail polish into his jacket pocket so he can keep them.
He leans his head towards yours, but he can’t quite reach. “C’mere, pretty please.”
You incline your own, and he presses his lips to your forehead. You feel yourself flush.
“Thank you, sweetheart. I really like them. Very metal.”
You let out a breath of a laugh. “I’m glad you like them, Eddie. I had a really good time tonight.”
“I did too. Maybe next time you’ll let me paint your nails?”
You swipe your thumb over the very prominent dimple that’s appeared on his cheek with the way he’s smiling at you.
“Of course I will. Next time you can pick the movie.”
“Deal.”
When Eddie drives you home shortly after, you get another kiss on the forehead. He can’t help but think, watching you go up your front steps, that you really do deserve some nice flowers. What he doesn’t know is that you think the same thing about him.
You unlock the door and turn to face him one last time for the evening.
“Good night, bloodsucker!” you shout, grinning and hoping he’ll laugh.
He does. Success.
He really is gonna have to stay away from Chinese for awhile. But it was worth it. Just like he thought, he’s head over heels. Maybe you’re the vampire.
————
please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33
#savannah’s fics#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson comfort#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson one shot#wayne munson#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson oneshot#eddie munson x female reader#eddie stranger things
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Allow Me to Propose Something:
How about, instead of his parents forcing him, Steve actually just? Likes? Sports?
No parental forcing or peer pressure just— he like sports. He likes swimming and basketball and maybe soccer and track.
Steve just liking sports because he’s allowed to have his own interests outside of the Party and older kids.
I always see Steve changing how he dresses and changing his music interests and all this other bullshit in Steddie fics and you know what?
Fuck that.
Steve dragging Eddie to every one of Lucas’ basketball games. Steve watching football and soccer and basketball games with Lucas and Wayne and Eddie silently watching with them because Steve is happy and Wayne is happy and hell— Lucas is happy, so why the fuck not?
Dustin and Mike still being skeptical of Lucas joining the basketball team post-Vecna (especially with Jason now dead and what Andy did to Erica and Lucas’ new ties to Eddie and—) but both of them finally realizing that sports brings just as much joy to Lucas as DnD does. And that’s honestly more than enough.
Steve still wearing his polos and blue jeans and clean white sneakers because that’s his style and how he’s comfortable.
Steve still listening to Wham! and Queen and ABBA and all his other musical interests cause that’s what he likes to listen to and that’s what he finds pleasing to his ear.
Steve having his own interests because he’s his own person and he’s allowed to have his own personality.
Because frankly— fics where Steve changes entirely so he can date Eddie make me really sad.
#stranger things#steve harrington#dustin henderson#mike wheeler#eddie munson#lucas sinclair#wayne munson#steddie thoughts#steve doesn’t have to change to date eddie#eddie loves him in all his dorky jock glory#and steve loves eddie in all his endearing nerd glory#that’s how it goes#lucas also getting some comfort and support in his new interests#because s4 made me sad :(#lucas and steve having a bro-bond over sports and doing the weird side-hug things#oh man I need to make another post
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sit with you in the trenches
Steddie Week / Day 4: Hurt/Comfort ( @steddie-week )
-
Eddie paces around the small living room. All the lights are open, every single one. It’s the only thing that gives him comfort.
The television is murmuring softly in the background. The man is still going on and on about the names of the victims of the fire.
Eddie wrangles his hands, waiting to hear the worst news of his life.
“Hanes. Hanewood. Hawork.”
Eddie pulls on his hair, a breath of relief caught on his lungs.
No Harrington. Steve’s fine. He’s just late. A day late. His “stickler for a schedule” boyfriend has been missing for a day and Eddie can’t even do anything. Can’t do anything because if he does anything it would raise questions.
There’s a crunch of gravel outside that makes Eddie jump, immediately opening the trailer door. There it is. The beamer.
Eddie freezes on his spot, a sound in between a sob and a cheer escaping his mouth. He watches as Steve comes out of the car, but the side door also opens, and— who?— Eddie squints. Robin Buckley comes out.
“Hey, Eds.” Steve greets him, his voice cracks, as soon as the lights hit him. Eddie gasps.
Steve’s face is swollen. Swollen is saying it lightly. His left eye is swollen shut, his lips busted. He’s still wearing the damn Scoops Ahoy uniform.
“Oh my god, swe— Steve.” Eddie pulls the door open, but his eyes stray to Robin who’s glued beside his boyfriend’s side.
Steve pulls her closer, “Eddie, you know Robin, right?”
“Yes.” Eddie trails slowly.
“We were in the fire together and she didn’t want to leave my side. But then, I wanted to go see you.” Steve says, “She’s safe.”
Robin nods earnestly, “I am a lesbian.”
“Oh.” Eddie whispers, blinking before saying, “Oh. Come in, come in.”
He opens the door wider for the two of them. They both stumble inside the trailer like conjoined twins, falling immediately on the couch.
“What happened, sweetheart?” Eddie asks, though he is afraid to hear the answer.
“There was a fire.” Steve answers, “I saved Robin and a few other people. Hence… my face.”
He moves to get an ice pack for his face and blanket for Robin. Eddie doesn’t fully believe it, but it doesn’t really matter right now.
He’ll ask tomorrow and Steve will tell him the same thing. Eddie will learn the truth by himself, in a few more months, a floating cheerleader in front of him.
“Here,” Eddie sits beside him, putting the ice on his boyfriend’s eye, “Robin, do you need anything?”
Robin stares at him with owlish eyes. So different from the girl he had band practices with. He always had his inkling that she might be one of them, but he never thought he'd find out this way.
She shakes her head slowly, accepting the blanket and wrapping it around her arms, “No. This is good enough. Thank you for letting me stay."
They all sit in silence for what could’ve been hours, and Eddie doesn’t really believe in God, but he thanks some kind of deity for letting his boyfriend come home safely.
“I am sorry.” Steve breaks the silence a few minutes later, taking the ice off his eye.
“For what?”
“For being late. For making you worry.” Steve says. Eddie turns to Robin to check on her, but she’s dead asleep on Steve’s lap.
“Does she know we’re dating?” Eddie asks.
Steve smiles shyly, “Yeah. It was a big bonding moment. She thought I was talking about her, leading to her coming out to me and then I told her about my wonderful, metalhead boyfriend.”
Eddie smiles, brushing his hand through Steve’s hair as he lays on his side with a sigh of relief.
“You did good, baby. You just adopted your first lesbian.” Eddie jokes, making Steve crack a smile.
“Does anything hurt? Why didn’t you go to the hospital?” Eddie asks.
“No.” Steve says immediately, like he hates the prospect of going to the hospital, “I just— I just wanted— wanted to see you. I know if I went then you won’t be able to come.”
Eddie smiles fondly, “Alright, Stevie. Go to sleep. I’ll be here when you guys wake up.”
Steve hums in response, but he’s already drifting into sleep, falling deeper into Eddie’s arms.
Eddie kisses the crown of his head, pulling him closer to him. The relief of having Steve here beside him, safe and alive, is something he will never take for granted again.
Tomorrow, Eddie will shower him (and Robin) with love and care. But right now, he tightens his embrace around him and let’s the relief sweep him off his feet.
#That’s how Wayne finds his son and his boyfriend and a random girl all tucked and tangled in each other's arms sleeping peacefully.#steddieweek2023#day 4: hurt/comfort#steddie pre-season 4#steve harrington x eddie munson#steddie#steddie ficlet#steddie headcanon#dae writes#steddie angst#daeheadcanons
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