#wayne munson pov
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"Do you think Eddie likes me?" The question leaves Steve's mouth absently, like an afterthought. Wayne watches his shoulders tense as he holds the cabnet door up. His eyes are on the floor. His cheeks going red. Wayne hums genlty, trying not to laugh in Steve's face. If he only knew.
Instead he sits with the question for a moment, keeps working, tightening the screws till they're snug. He nods at Steve, he lets go. Wayne swings the door back and forth a few times. No squeaks. And it doesn't fall off into his hands. He and Steve both nod at the same time, satisfied, Steve's hands dropping to his hips.
"Does he bite you?" Wayne asks, trying to sound as thoughtful as Steve had with his question. Steve stares at him. Wayne raises his eyebrows.
"Eddie. Does he ever bite you?" He repeats, giving Steve a pointed look.
"Oh! Um.. he... yeah? S-sometimes." Steve stammers a bit, his brow furrowing as he rubs at the back of his neck. And then his hand falls to his shoulder. And then drops by his side and clenches. Wayne smiles.
"You ever heard'a cuteness aggression?" Wayne asks, putting his tools back into their box and stashing it on top of the fridge. Steve shakes his head and frowns again. Wayne nods, motions for the small table and sits, Steve following him and sitting across from him.
"Well what I understand of it, and I'm getting this information from Eddie so... take it as you will." Steve smiles, a knowing look passing his face as he nods, and yeah, this kid has it bad for his boy.
"It's when someone thinks something is so cute it makes them violent. And Ed's got it bad. Took him ages to get it under control. What do you think happened to Gilberts ear?" Wayne nods toward the couch where their chunky brown tabby cat is napping. He looks up at the mention of his name and meows inquisitively.
"Oh my god what?!" Steve gasps, his hand jumping to cover his mouth. Wayne snorts.
"I'm just messin with ya kid. He was like that when Ed found him." Wayne smiles. Steve looks at him, straight faced, unimpressed. One of Eddie's favorite looks to wax poetic about.
"Very funny." He says dryly. Wayne chuckles, taps his hand on the table and says,
"I thought so. Anyway, point is. If that boy's teeth have sunk into you at some point. Odds are he likes ya just fine." Wayne smiles warmly, watches the gears turning in Steve's head, his brow furrowing and then relaxing as his mouth drops open in a little "O".
"So he'd say yes. If I- I mean if I wanted to-" he watches Steve swallow nervously.
"If you asked him out. Yes. I believe he would say yes." Wayne just watches Steve, takes a sip of his coffee. Steve nods to himself.
"Okay. Okay cool. I can do this. Awesome. Thank you!" He'd stood, hands wiping at his thighs, patting down his pockets, looking for his keys, before startling and turning back to Wayne to thank him.
"They're on the table by the door. And you're welcome son." He took another sip.
"And Steve?" He calls as Steve's hand hits the door, the boy turns to look at him, wide eyed.
"Yeah?"
"He can be a little... dense. When it comes to these things. Best to be forward. To the point." Wayne nods again, gives Steve a knowing look. Watches as his head tilts like a puppy as he processes.
"Forward. To the point. Okay. I got this." Steve said, nodding, to himself really, before darting out the door.
Wayne shakes his head, smiles as he cleans out his coffee cup and hopes that he'd done right by his boy. He couldn't take much more of Eddie's love sick puppy eyes. And Steve had been doing them for a few months now as well, and it was all too much. It had to be done.
~*~
Three hours later the trailer door slams open and Eddie rushes in. Steve hot on his heels, hand locked in Eddie's as he drags him down the hall.
"Evening boys." Wayne says, nonchalant, from his place near the stove, leaning against the counter.
"Hi Wayne!" Steve calls, happy and polite.
"No!" Eddie says, points at Steve aggressively and then to Wayne.
"No more talking! You two have talked enough today!" He half yells, and then drags Steve into his room, both of them laughing. His door slams shut. And then promptly opens again. Eddie bounds into the little kitchen, right into Wayne's space, and nearly tackles him in a tight hug.
Wayne squeezes him back, feels Eddie's lips press gently against his shoulder and then he's gone. Twirling away from his uncle's hold.
"Thanks Wayne." He says, his eyes bright and shining, his cheeks dimpled with happiness, and, right along his jaw, the imprint of teeth. A bitemark. Right on his face.
Wayne nods, and smiles as Eddie disappears into his room again. He can hear them talking and laughing through the wall as he makes dinner. Dinner for three now. As it has been for months.
He cooks. And he thinks. Three hours later and Steve still had to bite him to get his point across. Wayne shakes his head, smiling as he breaks the noodles and tosses them into the water, happy that his boys were finally happy.
#just a little something i thought of last night#and had to write outbefore i took my nap!!!#wayne munson#eddie munson#steve harrington#wayne munson pov#steddie#eddie and wayne munson#mine#my writing
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"You Should Date My Nephew"
"433-6296". Wayne mouthes to himself. He visualizes the little slip of lined paper that's taped to the wall above their phone at home. 433-6296. He could call. But he wont.
Wayne grunts as he lowers himself to sit on the curb outside the plant. He got off work --he pushes up the sleeve of his jacket to check his watch-- 36 minutes ago. It's 3:36 am and god dammit Eddie how many times did he remind the kid to set his alarm. How many times did Wayne remind Eddie that his truck was in the shop and that he'd need a ride home in the morning. And every single time he'd mention it, Eddie responded "I got it old man! I'll set an alarm" with an exasperated eye roll and would go back to whatever he was doing. Wayne has tried calling the trailer a dozen times already and damn that boy for being such a heavy sleeper.
433-6296. Wayne could probably solve his problem with a single call, but that would be completely inconsiderate and borderline inappropriate, so he wont. A gust of cold November wind hits Wayne unforgivingly in the face and makes his eyes water. He pulls a pack of camels from his chest pocket and with stiff, shaky hands, lights one. 433-6296. He could call or he could walk home. The walk wasn't easy in ideal weather when Wayne was fully rested. Right now it was freezing, Wayne didn't have his good jacket, and he just finished an eight hour shift. 433-6296. Fuck it.
Wayne stands up and hurries toward the phone before he can talk himself out of this. It's insane, and he knows the poor kid barely sleeps as it is. Knows from Eddie that he'll pick up the phone anytime Eddie has a nightmare and drive over to talk him out of the bad dream, keep him company, or fall asleep on the floor of Eddie's bedroom so his nephew doesn't have to go back to sleep alone in a haunted home. 433-6296 Wayne dials and waits with baited breath.
The phone rings a handful of times before a quiet voice greets him on the other side of the line.
"H'llo? Eds?"
"Uh hi Steve. It's Wayne?" Wayne says quietly into the phone. Steve seems to sober immediately.
"Mr. Munson? Is everything okay? Is Eddie okay?"
"Yeah no everythin's fine. I'm sure Eddie's safe and sound at home. Look, I'm real sorry to wake you, kid, and I'm sorry to even be askin' you in the first place. I know it's mighty unfair of me to call at this time but uh- My trucks in the shop and Eddie was supposed to pick me up from work forty minutes ago but I think he mighta slept through his alarm. And it's too far for an old man like me to walk. Was wondering if I might owe you a helluva favor if you could pick me up tonight, son." For a few moments there is silence. Wayne worries he has crossed a line, for a brief moment he fears he might have burnt the most important bridge in Eddie's life. He's immediately regretting waking Steve up for this.
But then he hears the distinct rustling and thump of someone putting on shoes.
"Of course Mr. Munson, I'm leaving now. I'll be there as soon as I can." And Wayne is once again floored by this kid's kindness.
"Steve, thank you. I owe you son. Whatever you need."
"It's no problem! I'll see you soon."
"See you." Wayne mutters in disbelief and hangs up the phone.
And to think... Wayne used to hate Steve. The thing about Steve Harrington is that his name is haunted, in a way. And the thing about Wayne Munson is that he's a stubborn son of a bitch who will hold grudges on Eddie's behalf longer than the kid himself will. There were countless days in high school when instead of shooting through the front door of the trailer after school with a devilish grin and music blasting from his headphones, Eddie would turn the knob slowly and he'd drag himself into the house, giving Wayne a small nod before disappearing into his room quietly. Wayne felt like crying or punching something when Eddie came home in low spirits. He knew how evil the kids at school could be, and he knew the names of all the bad ones. Wayne always gave Eddie 10 minutes of quiet before he'd knock on his door and gently ask if he wanted to talk. It was a routine they had. He'd ask and Eddie would say no. But then like clockwork, Eddie would open up about his day later in the evening usually while they ate dinner and before Wayne left for work. He'd complain about all the kids that made him feel bad: Hagan, Harrington, Perkins, Hargrove, Carver, and so many more.
So imagine Wayne's surprise on March 27, 1986 when he briefly left Eddie's hospital room to get coffee and returned to Steve Harrington, the bully son of Richard and Nicole, sitting next to his nephew's hospital bed. It had been a long week of worrying on Wayne's part, and an emotional 48 hours spent at Eddie's bedside, so Wayne had very little patience for whatever was happening in front of him. In retrospect, Steve Harrington was looking at Eddie... sweet and tenderly, even back then. But in the moment all he could think about was Eddie returning from school with hunched shoulders and his head hung low.
"The hell are you doing here?" Wayne asked using his gruffest and most intimidating voice, arms crossed, standing in the doorway. The way that Steve startled was like nothing like Wayne had ever seen. He jumped a foot into the air and folded into himself.
"Oh! Mr. Munson. I'm sorry I didn't know you were around. Just, uh, didn't want him to be alone in case he woke up." Steve had said rising from his seat. When Wayne didn't budge from the doorway or respond, Steve nervously fiddled with the zipper of his jacket.
"How do you know Eddie?" Wayne asked trying to keep his firm tone.
"From high school sir. But also through a mutual friend. Dustin Henderson? They play DND together. Dustin and I brought him in after we found him like this..." Steve lifted his head again gauging Wayne's still stern expression and sighed. "Look, I'm sorry sir I didn't mean to interrupt anything I'll get out of your hair."
And Wayne wanted to be skeptical of Steve, wanted to accuse him of doing this to Eddie, but the truth is that Steve sounded painfully earnest. And there's no human explanation for the tiny bite marks all over Eddie's body. Wayne stepped out of the doorway and let Steve take a few steps down the hallway before calling out to him.
"Hey, Harrington?" Steve turned around quickly, looking back with a startled expression, maybe surprised that Wayne knew his name at all. "D'ja see what happened? I mean d'ya know anythin about what hurt him?" Wayne asked more softly. Steve looked around the crowded hallway, with nurses buzzing from door to door. Steve shook his head slightly, apologized, and continued down the hallway.
But Steve didn't stay out of his hair for long. The kid was exasperatingly persistent in being around for Eddie. And while Wayne kept a watchful eye on him, he was starting to get the idea that Steve Harrington was not who Wayne thought he was. He cooked for, cleaned after, and tended to Eddie, asking for nothing in return. Often refusing to stay for dinner when Wayne was home, even if he was the one who cooked it, because he didn't want to interrupt family time. If he brought food from out he always brought something for Wayne, and never took the money Wayne tried to push into his hands for it.
"Here, Mr. Munson. I wasn't sure what you wanted from the diner, but Eddie said you're not picky so I brought you a burger and fries." Steve had said that first time, holding out a bag in front of him.
"You brought me food?" Wayne asked perplexed.
"Well yeah, of course. I wouldn't have shown up with dinner for just me and Eddie." Steve set Wayne's bag on the counter when he made no move to take it.
By now Steve knew Wayne and Eddie's order at pretty much every food place in Hawkins and Wayne and Eddie were getting real creative at finding ways to slip money into Steve's wallet.
On top of that, almost every other day, Wayne gets home from work to find a maroon bmw parked outside his place while Steve helps Eddie through bad dreams. So what could Wayne be, besides grateful, for Steve Harrington's slightly confusing devotion to his kid?
He's snapped out of his thoughts when said maroon bmw pulls up in front of him. Steve is wearing a pair of wired glasses and his hair is all ruffled from sleep. Wayne opens the passenger door.
"You were waiting for forty minutes in the cold? Why didn't you call sooner?" Steve asked pushing up his glasses as Wayne closes the door quickly. And well... Wayne doesn't know how to respond to that.
"I- I shouldn'ta had to call you in the first place, Steve. I'm real sorry" Wayne says as Steve pulls the car out of park and starts driving back towards the trailer park. Wayne glances over at Steve waiting for the kid to say something. They sit in heavy silence until Steve breaks it by clearing his throat.
"Just... I know you're probably mad at Eddie but- but don't yell at him. He's barely sleeping so he really just needs the rest. It's not his fault." Steve ends on a whisper.
A tidal wave of different emotions rip through Wayne. Affection for Steve's caring nature, immense gratitude that Eddie has someone like Steve in his life, disbelief that Steve would say something like that after being woken at nearly 4 in the morning. Wayne was sitting and staring at the most selfless kid he'd ever met. Steve fucking Harrington.
"You should date my nephew."
Steves eyes widen and the car swerves.
"Uh- s-sorry- what?" Steve stammers.
"If I could choose someone for him, the best option out there, I'd choose you." Wayne says honestly, and he didn't even know he'd been thinking it until this moment. But it's so true. After so many heartbreaks over truly terrible men that Wayne could never see the appeal of, Eddie deserves someone like Steve. Steve face softens before checking to make sure Wayne was being sincere. Steve cracks a smile and chuckles to himself.
"What, you think I'm jokin'?" Wayne asks defensively.
"No sir! Not at all. It's just Eddie and I have been dating for months already. BUT- but- thank you for saying that! It means so much to me and truly Eddie's the best thing-"
"You- what?" Suddenly Wayne is embarrassed. Blushing. How'd he... how'd he miss that? And well, he did have a few moments where he thought the two of them were awfully close for a pair of young men, at least one of which who was openly queer, but they'd been through a lot together.
"Why did no one tell me?" Wayne asks turning his face away from Steve who is desperately fighting a huge grin and losing.
"We thought you knew. We sleep in the same bed every night."
"You do what now? Thought you were sleepin' on the floor" Wayne knows he sounds like the protective dad of a teenage girl and not the uncle to an adult man, but his world was just turned sideways. Steve laughs at that and adjusts his glasses before stopping at the red traffic light which almost immediately turns green because no one is out at this hour.
"Oh well. Good, I'm glad then." Wayne says after his mind has stopped spinning. "And call me Wayne already, you basically live at my house." He punches Steve lightly in the shoulder.
"Okay." Steve agrees quietly. He pulls into Forest Hills and stops the car in front of the Munson's place. "Mind if I just check to make sure he's okay before I leave? For peace of mind?" Wayne opens the door and steps out.
"Oh so now you're playing coy about sharing a bed? Just sleep here, kid" Wayne closes the door and heads towards the house. Steve jogs a little to catch up. When they open the door, the sound of an obnoxious alarm comes pouring out from the back of the house which concerns both of them. But when Steve hurries to Eddie's room he sees that the idiot had fallen asleep with music blasting in his headphones. Wayne stops the alarm as Steve gently tries to remove the headphones from his ears pausing the tape inside.
Eddie suddenly stirs and blinks up at Wayne and Steve looking down at him.
"'S going on?" He croaks, rubbing his eyes. Wayne and Steve share a look before Wayne chuckles and pats Steve on the back once before thanking him and wishing him a good night on the way out. After the door closes behind Wayne, Eddie looks back up at Steve. "What's going on baby? What happened?"
Steve slips into the bed and scoffs, fondly. He curls around Eddie and pulls him into his chest. Once they've settled, Steve pushes his fingers through Eddie's until they're all intertwined.
"Did you forget something, Bambi? Was there someone you had to pick up from work at 3 in the morning?" Steve whispers into his neck. Suddenly Eddie shoots up and dislodges Steve where he was leaning against him. Steve groans.
"Shit! Shit shit shit shit shit"
"Eddie it's okay c'mere. He's home now, it's all good babe." But Eddie just stares at the wall and pulls a hand through his hair. "No one is mad, just come back here. Let's sleep." And Eddie hesitantly lies back down.
"Did Uncle Wayne have to call you? I'm so fucking sorry Stevie." Eddie asks, sounding embarrassed.
"We had a nice conversation on the way home so it all worked out. You're okay. Sleeeeep."
And right before they both fall asleep, Eddie whispers, "Thanks Stevie, love you."
#steddie ficlet#steve harrington#steve x eddie#steddie#eddie munson#wayne munson#Wayne Munson POV#steve/eddie
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rest
for @steddiemicrofic | written for rest | wc: #387 | rated: t | cw: none
They both deserve the rest.
Those boys have had such a rough go of things these past few months and now that Eddie’s out of the hospital, they deserve this.
Wayne feels like he should be taking a picture. He also feels like he should be averting his gaze, intruding on something quiet and intimate, something that’s none of his business.
He gets home earlier than he used to, these days. He gets home sometimes and Eddie’s awake, dark circles under his eyes from the nightmares and insomnia, a mug of coffee clutched in his hand that’s long since gone cold. He gets home sometimes and Eddie’s sprawled on the couch, brows furrowed, sawing logs like the snoring is just the weapon he needs to battle the monsters in his dreams.
And sometimes, Wayne gets home to find Eddie like this: in his bed, curled in on himself in the fetal position with Steve Harrington wrapped around his back. It’s nights like this where Eddie looks well and truly at peace. He looks like he’s never had to fight any monsters, like the only thing he cares about is the warm body pressed to his own, the big hand pressed to his chest as if to monitor the beating of Eddie’s heart.
During the day, when Harrington comes by the trailer and Wayne sees him awake, well… Steve Harrington looks as though he’s having just as hard a time sleeping as Eddie. He looks half dead on his feet, eyelids drooping, jumpy whenever the door creaks on its hinges or a dog barks too loud.
He doesn’t complain, though. Wayne’s never heard him utter a word about how exhausted he is, never once heard him bitch and moan about the work they’ve all been putting in to get the new trailer resembling something like a home for Eddie and Wayne.
Oh, and the way Eddie looks at Harrington sometimes… Wayne would be worried, frankly, if Harrington weren’t so busy lookin’ right back at Eddie the same way.
Wayne can give Harrington whatever shovel talk he deserves… later. After the dust has well and truly settled and those boys figure out what they are to each other. Wayne can have a sit-down with Harrington then.
And until that day comes, those boys deserve a safe place to rest.
bc you've both gotten on my case for not tagging you in everything i write: @steves-strapcollection, @patchworkgargoyle
#steddiemicrofic#steddie#steddie fic#outsider pov#wayne munson pov#wayne munson#eddie munson#steve harrington
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It was strange, the first time the two of them showed up. Wayne knew Eddie was close with Dustin, but he didn’t have a clue that he was chumming it up with the Harrington boy. Just don’t seem like the same type of company. He might not believe it if it weren’t so obvious that Steve cared about his boy. He suspected before, but now with Steve showing up here alone, he knows.
Steve misses Eddie in a different sorta way than Dustin.
“No cream or sugar, right?” Steve looks humored by that as he passes the mug of black coffee to him, “How are you related to Eddie again?”
Wayne’s mouth turns upward, remembering his nephew’s god awful sweet tooth. He picked up a box of Honeycombs the other day in the store out of habit. “Just happened to be standin’ there when they beamed him down.”
That gets a good chuckle out of Steve. Nothing wistful weighing it down and Wayne’s glad, watching Steve pour himself a cup of coffee too.
Then that bitter-sweetness swirls in his chest again, seeing the mug that Steve chose for himself. Must’ve dug it out from one of the boxes Wayne hadn’t hung back on the walls yet. The earthquake did a number on his collection. That Garfield one was the only one he’d gotten around to gluing back together.
“What is it?” Steve asks, cup paused at his mouth.
“Ah nothin’ just,” Wayne waves it off, “That’s the mug Ed always used.”
“Oh, I can use a diff—”
“Nah, nah go ‘head. It’s fine.”
Unconvinced, Steve takes a wary sip.
Mostly these days, Wayne just feels like a watch without a ticker, a chest with nothing beating inside it. He can’t name the feeling he has at seeing Eddie’s old mug being used by someone else, but at least it’s something.
wayne pov of the garfield mug fic for wip wednesday!
#waaay long overdue but finally getting around to this one#wayne munson#my fics#rueswriting#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie fic#wayne munson pov#wip#for context wayne doesn’t know eddie is alive yet bc it’s a secret for his safety
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Surprise post time! My first Wayne POV (for the Hawkins Holidays universe)
This Old Man
“We got a guest, Ed?” Wayne called from his recliner.
He didn’t dare get up, not with Chrissy peering fearfully over at him like she was waiting for him to throw her out by the scruff of her neck.
“Chrissy’s going to stay with us for a while, pops,” Eddie said, holding her like she was made of glass. “As long as that’s alright with you.”
Eddie gave him a meaningful look that said everything he needed to know and more.
“Fine by me, boy,” Wayne said, giving Chrissy a nod. “Evening, Miss Chrissy.”
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“Look Steve,” Wayne was only good at these kinds of conversations with Eddie. It wasn’t like he could pretend that he was talking to his kid to make this easier. Steve was the polar opposite of Eddie, from build to hair to personality. “I hope you don’t think that just because I got some issues with your father it means I automatically wrote you off.”
“No sir.” Steve looked up at him and Wayne couldn’t help but stare for a second too long at the scar that stretched across his throat. “I’d blame it on the fact that my dear old dad told me he didn’t want me hanging around Eddie because people like you,” he gestured to Wayne, “and people like us,” he place a hand to his chest, “don’t like each other.”
Wayne felt something like relief settle in his chest. At least he hadn’t been the only asshole back then. But the feeling was replaced almost immediately with something else, something heavier. He’d seen the boys together over the last few weeks, knew for a fact that they get along just fine. He never should have allowed his distaste for Arthur Harrington dictate who his nephew could and couldn’t be friends with.
Steve was still staring at him, waiting for a response. “I see,” was all Wayne could muster.
“What I mean is you never did anything to make me think you don’t like me! It’s just been common knowledge for me since I was thirteen!” Steve chuckled but the smile he wore was forced. “I hope that hasn’t been worrying you.” Wayne continued to stare at him, slowly coming to terms with the way Steve worked tirelessly to be impossible to read. “But you know, you never had to worry about me wanting to be friends with Eddie back in the day? I was friends with Tommy, who tried to get the nickname…” Steve spoke quickly at first, like he was desperate to fill the silence. But then his voice trailed off like he remembered where he was and who he was talking to. “Sorry! Sorry, I… hope Tommy and I didn’t cause too many issues for Eddie back then. I really am sorry, sir.”
“Don’t call me sir.” It was almost reflexive at this point. He’ll let it slide on occasion since he wasn’t as young as he used to be, but Wayne hated being called sir he always had. Except Steve’s eyes got all wide and there was panic under that carefully curated mask. “I mean you can if you really want to kid.” Wayne back pedaled fast, taking a seat in the armchair in his living room just a few feet from where Steve sat on the couch. “I just never much cared for it. Don’t tell Eddie I said this, but it's ‘cause it makes me feel old.” Steve stared at him, like he didn’t know what to think of Wayne Munson. “You didn’t cause my boy anymore trouble than he caused himself. I had plenty of conversations with him about his behavior and the towns perception of him and his friends, but did he ever listen to me? No. What happened a few months ago wasn’t your fault.” It was just a passive statement, a silly, obvious thing that Wayne hadn’t spent more than a few minutes considering. Of course the hysteria that gripped Hawkins and made the town turn on his nephew wasn’t Steve’s fault; that was plain fact. Maybe that was why Wayne was so ill prepared when Steve burst into tears.
******
an preview of chapter two of my fic those boys were never meant to be friends on ao3!!
I love these characters so much. :))) Chapter 2 is going well!!! <3
#stranger things#stranger things 4#stranger things fanficiton#post stranger things 4#steve harrington#wayne munson#eddie munson#my writing#ao3#fanfiction#fanfiction preview#linked fic#steddie#wayne munson pov#the exploration of steve harrington as a character
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Good People
Part One🦇Part Two🦇Final Part
Wayne knows eavesdropping isn't the done thing. He's definitely old enough to know better, and he wasn't going to. He had a plan. He was going to walk directly into the living room, so they'd know he was awake, and after he'd fixed his cup of coffee, he'd plopped into his perfectly worn in recliner and subtly glare at the Harrington boy until he squirmed.
Mostly because it amused Wayne, but also just a little sliver of it was because he wanted the Harrington boy to know Wayne didn't think he was good enough for his boy. But only a little! Lord knows that Wayne couldn't do anything to make Eddie change his mind about Steve Harrington, short of Harrington proving Wayne right. Which he doesn't actually want because he doesn't want Eddie hurt.
He's just... He expects it to happen. That's what boys like Harrington do to boys like Eddie. He's seen it enough times to know that this song and dance leave no room for improvisation. Boys like Harrington play around, get their kicks with the devotion Eddie shows them, and then when they've had their fill, they leave.
Boys like Harrington will never be good enough for Eddie, but they always leave with Eddie feeling like he's not enough. Wayne hates it.
Anyway, his plan wasn't to eavesdrop. It's just that Harrington said his name and Wayne found himself standing still instead of continuing.
"Why doesn't Wayne like me?" Harrington asks.
"This again?" Eddie says dismissively, which has Wayne agreeing. His opinion shouldn't have bearing on their friendship.
A deep sigh from Harrington before, "I just. It's- he means so much to you. And, like, I- nevermind. It's stupid. I'm stupid."
"Hey," Eddie sounds a type of serious that Wayne rarely hears from him, "you're not stupid. And you gotta quit fucking saying that. You say it enough and you'll start to believe it and it's not true."
"Hard to quit feeling stupid when people dismiss my concerns like they are stupid," Harrington snaps back, bitchy as can be. The tone makes Wayne bristle on behalf of Eddie. His boy doesn't reply immediately, though. Doesn't bite back like Wayne's used to hearing. Huh. Maybe he's growing up, just a little.
"You're right, Steve," Eddie says when he finally speaks. "That was dismissive. I'm sorry. Explain it to me. Why does it matter to you whether Wayne likes you or not?"
"Well, because he's your family."
"Yeah," Eddie agrees, "he is. But that doesn't explain why it matters. I don't care if your parents like me or not."
"That's different!"
"How?" Eddie asks, soft but firm.
"Because their opinion doesn't matter. It's not- It's irrelevant. What they think."
"That makes no sense. Wayne's opinion matters because he's my family, but your parents' opinion doesn't even though they're your family?"
"Yes!"
"But why?" Eddie presses.
"Because they're bad people!" Steve bursts, not quite shouting but close. "Because when bad people don't think highly of you, it's not a fault in you. Their disproval is, like, a compliment. They don't like you because you're too different from them. And that's great! You shouldn't want their approval. It's different, because your uncle is a good person. And when a good person doesn't like you, it is your fault. It's something- it's..." Harrington loses steam here, voice dropping low and defeated, "there's something wrong with me. Something in me that- that he just knows. Senses about me or whatever. Something wrong or rotten or-"
"Steve! That's bullshit. Sure, Wayne's been standoffish, but he'll come around. You're not wrong, or rotten, or whatever else you think you are."
"How do you know that? I was an asshole most of life and what if that's just the real me? What if that's who I'll always be deep down. 'Cause I'm trying so damn hard, man. I'm giving it my all trying to be a better person and it's not enough! Everyone still talks about who I was in high school and even you-" Harrington snaps his mouth closed so hard that Wayne hears the clack of his teeth from his position in the hallway. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to- I'm sorry."
"Steve. This is about more than just my uncle's opinion of you, isn't it?"
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."
"I want you, too. I want to know if I've ever done anything to make you feel like you aren't enough."
Wayne really shouldn't be listening. He should back down the hall and into his room. Give them time to talk.
"No, Eddie, you don't make me feel like- that's not what I meant. I just. I'm...."
"Hey, Stevie, you can tell me."
"I'm just so afraid that... That one day everyone will wake up and realize what Wayne already knows. That I'm not good enough for them. For you."
Oh. Wayne really shouldn't be listening.
"I'll admit that Wayne's opinion is important to me, for a lot of things. But not about you. What I feel about you, how I feel about you, isn't dictated by Wayne."
"Sure. I mean, I know that, like, logically or whatever. But it's. I can't convince my brain that you won't just. Hate me one day. And I- fuck, Eddie, I'm already halfway in love with you and-"
"You're in love with me?" Eddie interrupts, sounding awed, starstruck, and Wayne cannot be listening anymore. He backs down the hall silently and back into his room.
Steve Harrington seems to think that he's a good person, but he's not feeling like a good person at the moment.
He's got some thinking to do.
#steddie#my fic#wayne munson#eddie munson#steve harrington#wayne pov#wayne doesnt like steve and steve cannot accept that#not doing a readmore because its very short.
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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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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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Watching You Fall in Love (is My Greatest Achievement)
Steddie Fic | Wayne POV | Little_Annie | Ao3
---
"You love him don't you?" Wayne whispers, breathy, quiet, his voice cracking around the edges of something that feels like raw emotion.
It's then that Eddie turns his gaze away from Steve to look at him, the light never fading from his eyes and the smile never wiping from his face.
Steve's sitting on the trailer floor, in the middle of the living room, Eddie's clothes hanging from his body as he flips through one of Eddie's many monster manuals. Wayne knows the boy would never admit it, but he's just as interested in D&D as the other kids. He's helping Eddie plan his next campaign for christ sake.
Next to Wayne, two cans of coke in hand and a love struck smile on his face, Eddie nods, his cheeks darkening as his smile ever so slightly fades. "Is that okay?" He asks, looking all the bit nervous as his eyes roam Wayne's face.
"More than okay Son."
Eddie's smile brightens once again and if Wayne notices the small amount of tears welling in his eyes, he says nothing about.
"You ever going to tell him?" Wayne continues, nodding in Steve's direction, the boy still oblivious to the conversation being whispered behind his back.
"I don't know if I can."
Wayne says nothing to Eddie's reply as he watches the boy return to the living room where he sits down next to his best friend. Steve smiling bright as the sun upon Eddie's return.
—
Months go by and Wayne gets to watch as Steve falls too. It's there and so obvious to anyone but Eddie.
His eyes linger and his smile never fades. Soon Wayne sees as he sits a little closer and his cheeks grow a little darker.
There's moments when Wayne catches what he can only describe as a love struck expression across Steve's face. Eddie's talking, because when is he not, and Steve's there, eyes wide and locked onto Eddie's ever changing expression.
He looks fond. Fond in a way Wayne's never seen anyone look at his nephew.
There's moments when he sees Steve hesitant. Moments when he and Eddie are so close and Steve's hand twitches like it wants to reach out. Moments when Steve looks like he wants to lean in but bites his lip and turns away with rosy cheeks.
—
It's nearly a year into their friendship when Steve's standing at Wayne's side and whispers, "I think I love him."
"Tell him," Wayne answers easily, leaving out the 'please' he so desperately wants to tack onto the end of that sentence.
Please, he thinks again as he watches Eddie turn to face them from across the yard, a smile so beautiful Wayne thinks it's the first time he's seen it on Eddie's face. The boy's elbow deep in his van as his cheeks grow a little pinker as he says with a smile, "Stevie come here for a sec."
Steve leaves, but not before whispering back to Wayne, "I think I will."
—
No more than a week later Wayne comes home to find the boys on the couch, Steve sleeping and curled into Eddie's side, snoring with his nose pressed to Eddie's neck.
Wayne offers his boy a smile as he stirs from the sound of the door closing. He looks tired, arms tightening around Steve's waist as he smiles back and burrows closer, kissing the top of Steve's head before drifting back off.
—
"He loves me," Eddie says one evening, weeks down the road, a rare occasion when Steve isn't over and Eddie's actually home.
Wayne smiles, his heart so warm and full as he says, "I know."
—
Steve's been over for a few weeks now. Part of Wayne's convinced he's moved in, what with the new additions to their fridge and bathroom vanity. The idea doesn't upset him in the least.
He's gotten to witness their love grow during that time anyway.
He's gotten to witness the way Steve kisses a grumpy Eddie good morning until he finally smiles.
Or the way Eddie lights up when Steve's arms wrap around his waist and he whispers an "I love you Eds," that Wayne isn't sure if he's supposed to hear.
Or the way they giggle and kiss and love one another in such a beautiful and uninhibited way.
Granted too, sometimes that means Wayne's hears a bit too much. Eddie would be mortified to know there's been far too many occasions in which Wayne's had to leave the trailer to escape the gasping breaths that occasionally pour out from under his bedroom door.
Though this time, Wayne's inside as the boys are on the roof smoking and he thanks the lord above that all he can hear are the faintest of whispers.
There's only parts of the conversation that he catches, but his heart swells when he hears Eddie's voice so clearly say, "I'm gonna marry you someday Steve Harrington."
—
Wayne cries the day Eddie shows him the ring.
And cries even harder when Steve shows him his.
Steve's hand is shaking where the single golden band lies on his ring finger, Eddie standing directly behind him, arm around his waist with a smile that matches Steve's in the way it resembles Sunshine.
They can't marry, not legally anyways. But that doesn't stop Jim Hopper from officiating a ceremony or Joyce Byers from walking Steve down the aisle.
The backyard to Hoppers cabin is filled with faces Wayne has grown familiar with over the years. Young and old, smiling and crying all the same.
Dustin and Robin both write speeches, both as rambling and as funny as they are beautifully heart wrenching.
There's not a dry eye in the house.
—
The boys move into an apartment where they build a life together.
Wayne visits often for meals or a cup of coffee in the mornings, still delighting in the way his Eddie seems so wonderfully overcome with love and affection.
He'd thought he'd shed enough tears for his lifetime at the wedding, but one evening, sat at the table with Robin Buckley and his boys, Wayne finds out he's gonna be a grandpa.
Elaine Birdie Munson is her name.
Sunshine, they call her instead.
---
Ao3⤵️
#stranger things#stranger things fanfiction#steddie fanfiction#steddie#steddie fic#steddie fic rec#strangerthings#stranger things fic rec#steddie ficlet#stranger things ficlet#eddie x steve#eddie munson#steve harrington#uncle wayne#wayne munson#uncle wayne pov#supportive uncle wayne#steddie fandom#steddie fluff
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Wayne had met Al’s child a couple of times before the kid showed up on his doorstep. The odd Christmas or Easter gathering didn’t give him much of an idea of the kid’s personality since it was still a wee thing.
The young Munson here in front of him stood tall, maybe up to Wayne’s eyebrows, whip-thin and willowy. Big brown eyes stared out at him from a sallow face. The resemblance to Al was uncanny; it would’ve been even more so if not for the kid’s raggedy buzz cut.
She wanted to be called “Eddie”. Sorry, he wanted to be called “Eddie”. Sure, it was something to get used to, but it weren’t the strangest thing Wayne had run into over the years. He’d met some colorful folk during a brief stint in Chicago. He even had a bit of an idea how to help.
He helped Eddie get documents, sorted out school, and—after finding Eddie passed out in the bathroom—started sending letters. He got the contact of an endocrinologist in Indianapolis. Wayne could only afford a consult, gathered information. Enough to place a request with his dealer.
Rick didn’t ask questions. Probably assumed Wayne just wanted some extra virility. Wayne didn’t care what he thought.
200 milligrams every two weeks is what that doctor had said. Eddie’s voice dropped quick as a stone. He worried that he’d start to look just like his dad. Wayne told him he’d look like a Munson and Eddie looked at him real long before saying that might not be so bad.
#trans eddie munson#eddie munson#ftm eddie munson#wayne munson#wayne pov#implied queer wayne munson#<- maybe#I wish I had a Wayne#Al neglected eddie#I need to stop making these little things cuz my brain wants to turn them into full oneshots#also Eddie passed out can be read as an attempt or just binding mishaps#trans history my beloved
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Wayne's been watching this shit show unfold for over a week now. Watching Steve Harrington stroke Eddie's hair back, hold his hand, call him 'sweetheart.'
Rush in with snacks and cups of ice chips and, sometimes, reading to Eddie. He's slow and trips over his words sometimes, but he isn't shy over that and definitely doesn't let it stop him.
He's so committed to the act that, honestly, Wayne would be fooled.
But he isn't fooled. He knows that Eddie's had a crush on that boy for literally years and absolutely nothing has ever come of it. Christ, Wayne once forked over real, cold hard cash, so that Eddie could get a year book one year just to have a picture of Steve. So Wayne knows exactly how bad Eddie had it.
Even if Steve Harrington, up to this point, had been a grade A Asshole.
But.
Wayne has to put a stop to this now. They were talking about discharging Eddie. Speaking practically. He's going to need space. He probably won't be making it up any steps any time soon. He's going to need a practical place to get discharged too, somewhere where there will be someone to keep an eye on him most of the time.
The place they are describing is very much not the trailer.
And Steve had immediately volunteered. No hesitation whatsoever with that boy. His dedication to the lie is...pretty mind-blowing.
So now, now is the moment Wayne has to interfere, because this is a step too far.
He hasn't spoken to Steve much yet, and he hasn't spent any time alone with the kid, but he ups and follows when Wayne nods his head to the doorway and asks for a word. They move off together, finding a quieter bit of hallway.
'Steve, look, this is too much-'
'No, it's fine, honestly, I've got a downstairs room Eddie can use, and the bathroom-'
'I know this whole thing is a lie.'
Steve visibly crumbles for a second before getting back into character, 'Mr. Munson-'
'Wayne-'
'Mr. Wayne Munson-'
Wayne shakes his head, 'Jesus Christ, /just/ Wayne kid.'
'Right, yeah, but Eddie can come and stay with me, it's fine, definitely not a lie-'
'I meant you being his boyfriend. That lie.'
The kid scrambles and Wayne genuinely doesn't know how anyone is falling for this, the kid wears every emotion and thought so openly, 'no,no, we were just keeping it quiet l, it's -'
'Son,' and Wayne hates to be stern about this but he really really needs to, 'I found scraps of paper with Edward Harrington scribbled on them, like Eddie was practicing his signature. I found them /four/ years ago. What is your plan here? What do you think is going to happen when you rip the plaster off? He's going to be devastated. Or worse, what if he remembers on his own and you've been lying to him? To everyone?'
'I-' Steve starts but then clearly has no where to go with that because, as Wayne is fully aware, there is no plan, 'I can't do anything about it if he remembers, just hope that he forgives me. But otherwise, I was just thinking the plaster could just...stay on. There's no reason to remove the plaster-'
'Kid, I hate to tell you this, but you've got a bit of a reputation. Eddie was in a foul mood for nearly a fortnight when you started going steady with that Nancy girl, honestly, he was going through the stages of grief-'
'And that's exactly why we're not going to tell him. Eddie deserves to be happy and I'm...not like that. Anymore.'
Wayne rubs the bridge of his nose, 'I don't even know where to start with this. You- He- I mean. This is such a bad idea.'
Steve nods, fully committed, 'I know. I'm doing it anyway.'
Wayne gives up.
#eddie munson#steddie#steve harrington#stranger things#headcanon#ficlet#wayne munson#wayne pov#fake dating
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I headcanon that Wayne Munson had one (1) bad run in with Ted Wheeler at Melvald's and never forgot about it. He doesn't have to think too much about it though. Ted Wheeler lived in a nice little cul-de-sac on the other side of town. He wasn't going to have to see the man much. It was fine.
I don't know what the incident is yet, something so stupid. It makes Wayne question everything. He doesn't understand how Ted Wheeler can be an actual person. I also would like to add that he doesn't know Ted's name, just his face.
Which brings me to the end of my fic easy does it when Dustin agrees to take Wayne to meet everyone in the party at the hospital. and they get to the Wheeler's and Wayne cannot believe his eyes.
He maintains his cool, doesn't say anything about it because it's pretty clear Ted Wheeler has to idea who he is.
Only for Eddie to get out of the hospital and Wayne finds out Mike is in Hellfire and Nancy is besties with his nephew
and I can clearly see Wayne in the following state
That's my most recent silly little stranger things headcanon
#stranger things#headcanons#stranger things 4#stranger things headcanons#wayne munson#ted wheeler#wayne munson fic#stranger things fanficiton#wayne munson pov#my writing
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Sequel to Good People - The fic in wherein Wayne doesn't like Steve and overheard a conversation he shouldn't have. Here's the aftermath of that :3
Part One🦇Part Two🦇Final Part
-
Wayne had stayed in his bedroom long after he heard the boys leave. Eddie had knocked on his door to let him know he'd be staying at Steve's and to not expect him back until late tomorrow, a courtesy he'd never shown until after he'd been the victim of a manhunt back in spring. Wayne never asked him to do that but he thinks Eddie picked up on how worried Wayne would get if he were gone for any amount of time.
Eddie's always been good at reading people when he bothers to pay attention to them. Maybe that should have been enough reason for him to give pause to his dislike of the Harrington boy, instead of needing to overhear the boy crying about how he thinks there's something rotten deep within him that only Wayne can sense.
He'd been so sure he knew what kind of person Steve Harrington was. Eddie had been hung up on boys just like him pert-near his whole life, Wayne thinks, and it's never ended differently.
It's a Tuesday night and his friends usually gather at the bar on Friday nights, but Wayne needs to get out of the trailer to think. A beer might help. So, he grabs his keys and heads out.
He's been a regular at this bar since before he was even old enough to drink. Used to come with his pa, may he rest in peace, just to get out of the house. He's been a patron longer than any of the staff have worked there, he realizes.
"Hello Linda," Wayne greets as he takes a seat at the bar instead of at his usual table. He'd done a cursory glace when he came in and confirmed none of his drinking buddies were in before choosing the bar.
"This isn't your usual day," Linda says, leaning a hip on the counter, "but it's always a pleasure to see you."
"I got some thinkin' to do," Wayne replies and Linda nods and moves away, returning soon with a bottle of his usual beer. She picks up the bottle open and removes the cap before setting the drink down in front of him.
"Need a sounding board, hun?" She asks.
Wayne does a quick survey of the bar again but it's pretty quiet so he returns his gave to Linda and says, "if you wouldn't mind too much hearin' about how an old man might have messed up."
Linda laughs. "You aren't even half a decade older than me, so you best not be sprouting that 'old man' nonsense around me, 'cause I am not some old lady."
"Terribly sorry, Linda. I'm just really feelin' like an old fool."
A small frown comes to Linda's face then. "Now what could you have possibly done?"
"Well, I guess I'm tryin' to figure out if I did mess up. Eddie's got a friend and I don't trust 'im. Thought I had good reason not to, but, well, I overheard somethin' I wasn't supposed ta and now I'm not sure."
Linda hums, "hmm, that doesn't sound like you, judging someone unrightly. You are usually a good read about people."
"I'll admit, I haven't bothered to spend enough time with the boy to, uhh, judge him."
"Wayne Munson," Linda scolds, "you best not be telling me you judged that boy because of other people."
Judging by Linda's raising brow line, he thinks his guilt must be clear on his face. "You know Eddie, and how people have treated him. And with what he just went through- I just want 'im safe. Sure, his new friend graduated last year, but he was on the basketball team his whole career. And I'm jus' supposed ta believe this one boy didn't side with the group who started the manhunt?"
"Unless you've got evidence otherwise, yes," Linda says, brows furrowed.
Wayne sighs. "I ain't got proof. I got a lot of people sayin' he's good, actually. But it's the Harrington boy. The same boy Eddie would come home and complain 'bout. Harrington, Hagan, Hargrove, though I shouldn't speak ill of the dead. All them boys treatin' Eddie like he wasn't worth nothin' until they wanted somethin' form him."
Linda's mouth is almost a perfectly straight line with how much she's pursed her lips the more he talks, but she doesn't interrupt and no customer calls for her, so he continues.
"And you know what Richard Harrington was like. I know y'all only shared one school year together, but Janice wasn't any better, and she was your year, wasn't she?" Linda gives him one nod in response. "That boy's a product of them. I- You can't fault me for thinkin' differently."
"So, when do you expect Eddie to end up in prison?"
The question throws Wayne and fills him with anger at the same time. "Now, Linda, I ain't likin' what you are implyin'."
"I ain't implyin' nothing," she says, using the same tone with him that he did with her. "I'm applying your logic. Eddie's a product of his parents, ain't he? Al's in prison, and his mama's long gone, bless her soul. And since Eddie ain't sick, last I heard, he must be following after his daddy."
The anger leaves him then, and all he's left with is shame. "Point made. And if I'm bein' fully honest with ya, I don't even need ya to defend that boy. That thing I overheard. That what's eatin' at me. He called me good people."
Linda softens, shoulders dropping, "you are good people, hun."
"That boy told my Eddie that I'm 'good people', and that his parents are bad ones, and I. I don't know what to do about that."
"He thinks his own parents are bad?"
Wayne nods, "is what he said. Thinks I can somehow sense he's also rotten just by association."
"There's nothing to it, then," Linda says, like they've already talked out the tangled mess that is Wayne's thoughts on Steve Harrington and have reached a conclusion. Well, perhaps Linda already has. She's always been bright, and she's usually right. "You, Wayne Robert Munson, need to apologize to that boy. The guilt and shame's gonna put you into your cups otherwise."
Wayne nods slowly, though he isn't even sure if he agrees or is just acknowledging what she said before he takes a long pull from his bottle before lowering both his arms to rest on the counter as he replies, "You're right as usual, Linda my dear. I just gotta let go of the fact he's Richard Harrington's son and try and see just Steve."
"Damn right. Eddie might be Al's by birth, but you raised him and he turned out alright. Maybe Steve got the same treatment. Had his own Wayne around to raise him right."
There might be a bit of truth to that. He's heard enough talk about Steve Harrington over the years to think that. One of his drinking buddies used to be Jim Hopper. He's heard about the amount of parties he'd had to go shut down at the Harrington's house, with no parents to be seen. (Always Jim's biggest gripe back then. "Where's this kids goddamn parents!?) Wayne always assumed their kid just took advantage every time his parents were gone, but maybe it's the opposite. Maybe they were always gone, and Steve had parties to not be alone in his house.
Linda's right. There is nothing to it. He needs to talk to Steve, properly apologize, and go from there.
"It ain't an easy thing, admittin' you might be wrong," Wayne sighs.
Linda reaches across the counter and places a hand on Wayne's arm just below his wrist. Wayne looks up from where he'd ended up staring at his bottle, making eye contact with her. "If your boy is friends with this boy, it's for a reason. Just give him a chance. You are one of the good ones, but even we can have a lapse in judgment now and then. Doesn't make you bad, makes you human."
"Ain't no one perfect but the good Lord," Wayne says and Linda nods in agreement.
"Alright. I'll leave you to your beer and your thoughts for now, but you best keep me updated on your situation. I wanna know how it goes," Linda retracts her hand and heads down the counter to check on the few other people sitting about nursing drinks.
Wayne sits in his thoughts more than he drinks, so by the time he's done with the beer it's warm but that's fine. He will talk to the Harrington kid, but he wants to talk to Eddie first. He owes his nephew that much, and he does recall Eddie saying something to the effect of 'he'll come around' to Steve, and Wayne wants to tell Eddie he'll try.
Also he doesn't want to just corner the boy after he's been somewhat intimidating intentionally. He's going to get Eddie to ask if Steve'll talk to him.
True to his word, Eddie returns home late the next day. The clock says it's almost 6 when Eddie finally comes through the front door. If he's surprised to see Wayne awake, he doesn't show it. He does work the graveyard shift, and he's got a shift at 10 tonight, usually wakes up two hours before his shift. He'd wanted to make sure he caught Eddie, though, so he's been up since three.
"Eddie, you got a minute?" Wayne says.
"Sure. What's up?" Eddie says as he pulls off his jacket, depositing it on the nearest surface before plopping sideways on the couch so he's facing Wayne.
"I gotta come clean. I overheard some of what you and Steve were talkin' about," Wayne says, because he's a man of his word and he's always been good at doing the hard thing if it also turns out to be the right thing. He's got to be honest with Eddie, so he can be honest with himself. "Heard Harr- Steve talkin' 'bout how he thinks I'm a good person, and his parents aren't."
Eddie's quiet for a moment, blinking owlishly back at him while he thinks. "Oh. Umm. Sorry. I just- I think this is the first time I've heard you say Steve's name."
"Not the part I thought you'd focus on," Wayne huffs a laugh, "but I owe your boy an apology and I was hopin' you could help me make it happen."
"My boy- what is happening," Eddie drops his voice to whisper the question to himself.
"What's happening is I'm doin' the thing I always told you ta do. Taking accountability and fixin' my mistake."
"Oh. Oh!" Eddie narrows his eyes at Wayne, "you've made an ass out of me. All those times I assured Steve you were just being standoffish and you were- what were you doing?"
"Intentionally keepin' the boy at a distance 'cause I thought he was gonna hurt you. I sure as hell ain't been friendly. I been judging him because I knew his parents, thinkin' about how an apple don't fall far from the tree," Wayne stops, giving pause to see if Eddie will speak but he isn't. He's just staring at Wayne like he's a puzzle. "It was brought to my attention that it's mighty unfair to judge someone 'cause of how their parents act."
Eddie's brow furrows and his lips purse. It makes him think of Linda. She'd made the exact same face. "I- Jesus fuck this is weird, but I. I think I'm mad at you. Disappointed."
Eddie doesn't say it with an angry tone, and his face still looks more puzzled than mad, but the sentence feels like a kick to the chest anyway. Eddie and he have never been mad at each other, not in the eight years Eddie's lived here with him. They've been worried and scared for each other that, or mad at someone or something else that they take out on each other, but never mad at each other.
"You've every right to be."
Eddie stands from the couch, paces down the hallway, and Wayne thinks this might be the end of any conversation tonight, but instead Eddie comes storming back up the hall. "So, what, did you take me in expecting me to be my dad!?"
"No. He mighta contributed to your birth, but we both know that man ain't nurtured you a day in his life."
"Yeah, well, Steve's parents didn't raise him either, so all this has been bullshit! You made Steve think he's, he's broken and a bad person! And," Eddie's eyes are wet and he's angry but also about to cry. Wayne hasn't seen him like this in a long time. Not since the day they learned Al was in prison, fifteen years with a chance for parole if he's on his best behavior. Eddie had been so angry, and sad, and hurt by the news. Eddie's like that now, worked up so much he's repeating himself as he hiccups his words out around the lump in this throat, "And, and you made me help him feel that way! Because I didn't take him serious when he said, said you didn't like him! I thought you were being, being a dad, all fake gruff to intimidate the guy I like but it's- you were- FUCK!"
Wayne lets him yell. He deserves it, and Eddie needs it. Eddie's not saying anything untrue. He takes in what Eddie is yelling at him; Steve's parents didn't raise him, and how Wayne's cold shoulder must have added to whatever else Steve has going on in his life.
"I, I h-held him while he b-bawled into my shirt last night! He, he thinks- and you, you didn't even trust me! T-trust my own j-judgment of, of Steve! I, I need- I can't-" Eddie doesn't finish the sentence. He turns on his heel and storms back down the hall, the slamming of his door finalizing this conversation.
To say that Wayne feels terrible is inadequate. He's hurt his boy, and he's hurt his boy's boy, and he's got no one to blame but himself.
Now he's got two apologies to make.
I tried to tag as many people as I could remember that expressed interest in a follow up fic. I am SO sorry if I missed you. Please let me know if you want to be tagged in the final part. I will only be tagging people who ask to be tagged going forward 'cause it's a lot of people to remember and my memory is garbage.
@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems @skepsiss @unclewaynemunson @itsthestrangestthings @emofratboy @devondespresso @finntheehumaneater @loopholesinmydreams @yourmom-isgay @wrenisflying @emsgoodthinkin @messrs-weasley @madigoround @jackiemonroe5512 @gutterflower77 @zerokrox-blog @eriquin @samyuck @lunarmaruna @mugloversonly @kaij-basil-lionelli88
#steddie#my fic#wayne pov#wayne munson#eddie munson#honestly this didnt go the way i thought it would#so there will be a third and final part. Wayne's gonna make it right because he's a good uncle. A good dad.#SPOILER: steve doesnt even show up in this part so im not tagging him
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