Excited to share the second piece I created for the Eddie Munson Big Bang, and the fic Partners In Class... And Everything Else! UNCLE WAYNE GAAAHHHHH!!! MY HEART!
I love this fic so much, it's only got the very final chapter left after this one, everyone please go check it out! 🖤
Partners in Class... And Everything Else
Fic by: @tillystealeaves
Art by: Malikat24601
Summary: Eddie Munson and Steve Harrington are paired up for a grade school assignment. To both of their surprise, they turn out to be exactly the kind of friend the other was looking for. But can that friendship survive the monsters (and the people) of Hawkins?
Full prologue for my comic, “Half Star Tulip” is up on Webtoon now! ✨ Regular updates will begin on 1/6 and continue with new pages every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday!
1,000 years after humanity fled a dying Earth, their new home, Rosehaven, faces a crisis. The precious energy source that keeps its populati
Full prologue for my comic, “Half Star Tulip” is up on Webtoon now! ✨ Regular updates will begin on 1/6 and continue with new pages every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday!
1,000 years after humanity fled a dying Earth, their new home, Rosehaven, faces a crisis. The precious energy source that keeps its populati
little content warning for mentions of abuse (through a child's perspective), but definitely has a happy ending with soft uncle wayne goodness
He missed the stars.
His house with his ma and dad hadn’t been much—one bedroom for his parents and a cot in the living room where Eddie kept his clothes and his library books. The entire space except the kitchen was covered in beige carpet where Eddie drew temporary pictures with his fingers.
But every night before bed, his ma would bundle him up and take them both into the backyard to look at the night sky. Away from his dad’s growing beer bottles and football games he kept losing money on.
Even in winter, she’d grabbed the special thick comforter from the back of the closet and the blanket Eddie’s grandmother had knit for him before he was born and before she died. She’s wrap them up tight together to sit and count each twinkling star as they emerged into the night sky.
The only nights they didn’t look at the stars was when his dad got to shouting at them first. Through red-rimmed eyes and slurred words, he held Eddie’s ma by her pretty curls so she wouldn’t get away and shouted.
Shouted that Eddie looked too much like his ma, with curls and ugly brown eyes. Might as well not have been his, looking like that. Yelled at her for being with other men even though she never left the house, and then grabbed Eddie by the back of his shirt. Shouted that he was too skinny for seven years old; a nothing that sat around reading fantasy bullshit like a fag.
Sometimes he shoved them both into the wall and then went back to his football games. Other times he took his ma to their room, and Eddie burrowed under his blankets until morning.
The last night they’d sat together, she’d made a pot of hot chocolate to share.
Her dark curls had tickled his nose while she held him to her chest. He’d thought she had been holding him particularly tight that night. But it was cold, and together they were warm, so he didn’t say a word.
The next day at school, a lady with blonde hair in a gray pinstripe jacket and skirt came to talk to him. Apparently his ma had called the lady’s job, and that meant she had to ask him some questions.
And he didn’t know any different, so he told about the shouting. About the bruises on his arms and back. The ones on his ma’s ribs and her legs—the ones he only saw in glimpses when she darted past in her towel after a shower.
He didn’t know it would mean he never got to go home.
A bag with his clothes and his books were waiting for him in the lady’s car, as well as a note from his ma that he didn’t read. (Not for nearly a decade.)
He stayed in a foster home for a week until they got ahold of Uncle Wayne.
Eddie hadn’t seen his uncle for a few years. Not after he and his dad shouted worse than Eddie had ever heard his dad shout at Thanksgiving dinner. So much that he covered his ears to muffle it all out, so he didn’t know why Uncle Wayne hadn’t been invited back to his brother’s house.
They’d never gone to visit Forest Hills, and Eddie had no idea why his uncle lived in a trailer. He’d hoped it was some kind of mistake, when the blonde lady had parked in front and led him to the front door, backpack in hand.
But it was his uncle who opened the door.
Uncle Wayne said it wasn’t safe for him to be outside at night.
“Ma and I look at the stars,” he told Uncle Wayne, clutching his grandmother’s blanket close to his chest. No one had told him where his ma had gone, but he knew she wouldn’t abandon the stars, even if he wasn’t with her.
He had his own bedroom living with Wayne, but he didn’t have nearly enough things to justify it. He still hadn’t slept in the bed, instead curling up on the couch with his backpack.
“Ed,” Wayne started, grunting as he knelt down to Eddie’s height. “I’m sorry kid, but it’s too cold. There’s wild animals out there, and a few neighbors who ain’t too friendly.”
Eddie didn’t think his uncle looked much like his dad. Maybe he was like Eddie, and looked more like another grandmother Eddie had never met.
No one else called him ‘Ed,’ either. He still wasn’t sure how he felt about it.
Eddie pouted, rubbing at the tears in his eyes because he wasn’t supposed to cry.
“I can be really quick,” he promised.
It was already late. The stars were bound to be out. Eddie could find the Cassiopeia stars for his mom and say goodnight.
“I’m sorry, kid.”
That was it.
Eddie wouldn’t get to say his goodnight.
The burning tears fell freely down his cheeks, and Eddie shoved his blanket at Wayne hard enough to tip him over onto his butt. He couldn’t hide anywhere in the living room, but his new room had a door.
So, for the first night ever, Eddie stormed into his own bedroom and slammed the door behind him.
Eddie didn’t say a word to his uncle for two days, hiding out in his room between meals.
His ma wouldn’t have stood for it. But his ma wasn’t there.
“Ed?” Wayne knocked on his door and when he got no answer, he opened it enough to peer inside. He did that at least once every couple hours, and Eddie pretended to be asleep.
This time, he looked his uncle straight in the eyes, legs tucked up against him and arms wrapped around his knees.
Wayne slipped into the room, the light from the living room spilling in behind him. He had a plastic-wrapped book from the library and a crinkly package in his hands.
“Got something for you,” he said and sat slowly beside Eddie on the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight.
Eddie was silent, but Wayne nontheless laid the book on the mattress. The cover had the night sky across it, and the title “Stars and Constellations for Beginners.” Next, Wayne placed a jumbo pack of stick-on glow-in-the-dark stars.
“How about we put the stars inside for now?” he asked.
Eddie sniffled, reaching for the plastic stars. He held them in both hands, looking them over. Big, little, and in between, all a near-opaque neon green. The label said there were three hundred individual stars.
“All of them?” he asked in a quiet voice.
Wayne nodded. “Every one.”
A stray tear fell off of Eddie’s face and landed on the plastic packaging. He smeared it with his thumb, and then wiped it away with the hem of his last clean shirt from home.
He handed the stars to his uncle to open, and slid the hefty constellations book onto his lap. Wayne tipped the stars out onto the mattress while Eddie scanned the table of contents with his finger.
The constellation he wanted was right near the front.
He flipped to the correct page and traced from star to star across the two-page spread a few times. Enough to make up for the night’s he’d missed.
Eddie held the book out to Wayne.
“Can you do that one?”
His uncle twisted his shoulders and tilted his head to see properly. Eddie didn’t think Wayne really knew what he was looking at, but he hadn’t yanked the book out of his hands and chucked it across the room like his dad would have. He didn’t leave Eddie to figure out how to reach the ceiling on his own, as if he would have ever bought the stars in the first place.
Wayne gently cupped the side of Eddie’s head and pressed a kiss to his temple, over the curls just like his ma’s.
Wayne hasn't ever had anyone to really worry about. Not since Al disappeared to start his own life, only to fuck it up worse than he feared his brother would. Wayne still doesn't have to stress, though. Steel bars, concrete, and Al's own shoulders take that load off.
Wayne doesn't need much either, too old to wonder what his life would be like with another, with a little one, with anything or anyone. He has his simple trailer in a simple corner of a simple town, his heavily physical but satisfyingly simple job, and whatever stray animals find comfort under his porch. He's friendly to whomever crosses his path, and quietly grins the elderly respect in response.
He's fine with all that, the closest to comfortable he's been since he was a little kid visiting Georgia orchards.
That makes Chief Powell's call one faithful autumn evening the most exciting thing to happen to him. Well, more terrifying once he realizes Powell is calling from the station. Outright chilling when he says Wayne needs to come pick up his family.
His hands are shaking as he gets into his little pickup and pulls out of Forest Hills. Can't breathe as he passes stop signs and rolling acres of land. His mind is racing, afraid that the bars weren't strong enough to contain his last remaining family member, wondering what the hell Al got himself into this time, fearing his guard might come down once again to let his baby brother crash in his too small trailer and start the process all fucking over.
Wayne doesn't need much, but his weak heart craves so much more.
He pulls into the parking lot of the police station a bit sloppily. Grips the wheel white-knuckled for too long. Leans his head on the metal when he finally gets out and slams the door. Takes a deep breath and steels himself for that dirty grin to break his walls down just like poor Elizabeth.
Powell meets him at the door, sour but definitely not a little confused. For some reason that scares him twice as much.
"Evenin', Chief," Wayne greets him still. The title still sounds bitter so soon after Hopper.
"Evening." Powell tips his hat, pleasantries just as strained. Nods his head towards the back of the station, carefully stepping away from the wall and walking forward. Wayne's feet carry him in stride no matter how much he wishes he could just turn back around to an hour prior. "Didn't think we'd see you here."
Wayne nods at the new young secretary at the desk, a smile never felt so forced. His face falls in a tired sigh as he looks away. "Don't I know it," he murmurs. He watches their feet, too scared to face that face head on.
Powell stops towards the end of a hall, claps a hand on Wayne's shoulder, scaring him stiff still. Looking up, he sees a new expression. The usual respect towards those his age is there, but there's some guilt and fear and something like sympathy. "Look, old man..." Powell's jaw twists silently around words he doesn't have. When he finally speaks, it's slow and careful. "I don't know if you knew about this, but if you didn't, I'm so sorry you had to find out this way."
That briefly drops all the fear out of Wayne's body, plummeting straight into confusion. Powell doesn't notice, taking the last few steps to open the door at the far wall, stopping inside to hold it. His mouth forms something that Wayne's ringing ears can't hear, but his eyes see Munson. Wayne rushes forward in a flood of adrenaline to see whoever is there and-
The boy - younger in spirit than in age - pacing in the small waiting/holding room snaps his head up to face Wayne and freezes. He looks just as scared to see Wayne as Wayne is to see him.
"Heh-Hey, Uncle Wayne!" The anxious smile and fake jovialness brings out those patented Al Munson dimples. Almost distracts Wayne from the plain terror in every fiber of the kid's being. His eyes constantly snap over to Powell, and every time he makes eye contact with Wayne he tenses like he's afraid of an explosion. Still, the kid hides it behind a cautious wink and dual finger guns. "Nice of 'ya to help me out!"
Wayne is sure he's still gawking like a fish, so thankfully Powell takes pity. He places his hand on Wayne's shoulder again with a deep sigh, pulling Wayne away. "Yup, caught Eddie here driving a van without a license plate. Or a license." Powell faces the poor old man still stuck in place, expression more apologetic now. Saying 'Sorry you're stuck in this situation.' without an ounce of the sympathy from before.
Wayne, mouth still agape, glances back at the kid - Eddie. His grin is still way too wide as he stares anxiously at Powell. Upon seeing Wayne's eyes again, he meets them with the loudest silent plea Wayne's ever seen. 'Dear god, I'm so deeply sorry, please just get me out of here.'
Finally, Wayne slowly closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath, looking at all the facts before him. Trying to keep his mind focused on the practical. There's a kid here with your name and your family's traits. His name is Eddie and he's more scared than a newborn kitten. He doesn't want you there and you don't know if you should be, but either way, right now, you're all he's got.
Then he exhales, opens his eyes, sees that Eddie looks twice as scared now. He nods to the door, to Eddie's shock. "C'mon, son. Let's get you home then."
Eddie was already a pretty pale kid, but now he's almost ghostly. Still, he just visibly swallows, nods, and walks to the door, head bowed. Wayne goes to lead the way, hearing the kid behind him mutter, "Thank you, sir." to Powell.
That's the first tell. Al would never teach his son to respect cops. 'Dirty pigs,' Al always said, and never showed an ounce of civility whilst in their hands.
The second is his complete silence as they walk back through the police station. Eddie doesn't say a word, hell he's whimpering like a lost puppy behind Wayne the entire way. Wayne nods a goodbye to the clerk, yet Eddie remains quiet.
Elizabeth's soul is too damn bright for her son to be so dull so soon, fear be dammed. Wayne's seen her shaking in her boots at the sight of a mountain lion, and still she whispered jokes at its expense.
The last tell comes when they finally get outside, and Eddie sees Wayne's old pickup. You'd think he'd have relaxed at the sight of freedom, but it's like he's looking at Charon's boat to ride into hell.
That's what tells him Eddie might not have just been scared of the cops. Maybe Eddie's scared of him.
The realization sends Wayne's heart 6 feet under, the absence replaced with a thick blob of dread. They're both stiff getting into the truck, simultaneous door slams hardly felt in their already jittering nerves. Wayne's arms feel numb buckling his seatbelt, his entire body following suit as he slumps heavily in the worn seat. He's overly aware of the tense presence beside him, trying to get it out of his empathic mind by rubbing his face.
He finally chances a glance to his right, and finds Eddie looking horrible. He's sitting bunched up on the chair, knees pulled up to his neck and arms wrapped around his torso, gripping hard on the leather jacket. He's looking profoundly away from Wayne, head almost turned to the bed in his efforts.
Wayne can't handle the sight, so he looks away. Wayne can't handle the tension, so he goes to speak. "Look, Ed-"
"I'm sorry." The kid beats him to it, says it in a rush like he can't handle any of it either. And like he's afraid of Wayne's response, he just goes off in a desperate ramble. "I'm so goddamn sorry, I didn't- I didn't mean to rope you into this.. I didn't even know there was a Munson in this town, let alone this whole damn state, but the officer said I could only get released by family and wouldn't listen when I told him I didn't have any and I just wanted to get out because Steve's gonna kill me and half this town if he finds out I'm stuck in jail over something so stupid- but-but then he said there was a Munson in town and I heard y-your name and hoped uncle was good enough... Look, you can just kick me out and I'll go and you never have to see me again-"
"Woah woah, hey, kid, hey," Wayne interjects softly, trying so hard to wrangle the wild words of whatever this kid is saying, hoping it'll rope his own thoughts with it. Eddie's jaw immediately snaps shut, and though he's not attempting an owl turn anymore, his face is bunched up in fear and obviously holding back tears. Worse than Al's puppy eyes, violently so.
His mind scrambling in a dozen different directions, Wayne tries focusing on one thing at a time, starting with the one he deems the biggest. "You say you don't have any family...?"
Eddie shakes his head hard, hand reaching up to cover his face with a strand of hair. "Orphan," he whimpers. "I'm not from here..."
Coincidence then? That this random kid with his last name and his brother and sister-in-law's appearances just isn't Wayne's kin? Odd, but anything is possible, he supposes. Or, heaven forbid, he is still related to Wayne and something happened to Elizabeth, her poor son left to fend for himself...
Wayne'll go along with the former for now, but he'll get a damn blood test before the month is out, just to be sure. "Alright... Now, this Steve fella, you say he's gonna hurt you if-"
Eddie immediately rushes up, pain replaced with overwhelming concern and shame. Eyes wide and scared, hands waving around. "No no no, not like that!!! I meant it in a cool way, Steve's, like- my only friend in this place!! He lets me stay with him, and he's all protective and shit..." Eddie cringes inward, like he's just said something bad and is expecting a retaliation. "Look, Wayne? I'm serious, you don't have to worry about me. You don't even have to drop me off anywhere, I'll pay you back any way you need, but please don't stress yourself out-"
"No way, Eddie." Wayne cuts him off. He stares right into this kid's eyes and says softly, "Not when you look like my brother and his ex-wife." Fear and confusion flicker on Eddie's face. He's at least quiet now, so Wayne takes the chance. "You say you ain't from here. Where are you from then?"
Eddie flounders, then let's out a stuttering laugh. "Just- uh- you gotta trust me here, I'm not-" He gulps, a hand running into the crown of his head before winding down to tangle in his curls. He looks up at Wayne with Al's pleading eyes, begging him to leave instead of stay. "You won't believe me," he whimpers.
Wayne doesn't even hesitate. Won't fall for those god. Damn. Eyes. "Try me."
- - - - -
Steve's sure he's gonna burn a hole into his parents' stupid shitty carpet at this rate. Gonna start chewing up his actual fingers and rip out his hair one strand at a time.
Eddie still isn't back.
He said - this afternoon - that he was gonna find a car today, something to get around so he doesn't jeopardize Steve's ""precious baby."" They were gonna get him a proper license tomorrow. But he's not back yet.
Nancy and Robin have been scavenging the entire town. They found a beat up van pulled off in the empty grocery store parking lot, so violently Eddie, but nothing more. The kids have been blowing up the radio calling out to him, but there hasn't been a single response. Eddie knows how important their radios are, he wouldn't just not respond unless...
Oh fuck, what if something happened? What if the Upside Down came back early, and Eddie got roped right in? His obsession with their show isn't enough standing toe-to-toe with a Demogorgan or Demodog or Mind Flayer, it can't be. What if something happened and Eddie overestimated his survival chance and they'll never see him again oh god Ronnie's gonna find a way to their dimension and kill them all with her bare hands-
The sound of a motor suddenly invades his white noise brain, and he hears it cut off in his driveway. Thinking it's Nancy's with some kind of news, he flings the door open. Almost breaks down when he sees a random pickup there. Nearly collapses to his knees in relief when Eddie steps out, visibly rattled and scared but in one piece.
Steve doesn't hesitate to call out to Eddie, immediately rushing forward to take him in his arms. Relishes in Eddie's tight grip in response. "Idiot stupid goddamn it Eds Eddie you scared the piss shit outta me don't you dare do that to me again you impossible future man Jesus fuck" Steve just rambles straight into Eddie's shoulder, on the verge of tears.
It isn't until another door slam stabs his ears that he hears Eddie's responding ramble. "Forgive me I'm sorry this was the best I could do I got arrested and had to get out and and-"
Steve pulls away from Eddie to face the pickup truck, just in time to see the driver walk up to them. An old man, someone Steve is pretty sure he's seen around - small town, he's probably seen everyone. He's still in peak Protective Harrington mode, so he immediately pulls Eddie behind him to place himself between the two. "Hi, yes, thank you for bringing Eddie back, what else do you want?"
The man, unaffected, just sighs and meets Steve's eyes. Says words that make Steve's heart stop.
"Pardon me, son. My name's Wayne Munson, and I just got Eddie out of jail. Now I'm not too sure about you, but I do believe I've been promised an explanation?"
written for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt: family dinner and @steddiebingo prompt: matchmaker | rating: t | cw: 999 | tags: different first meeting, pre season 4, matchmaker wayne munson, soft boys
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Christmas at the Munson’s consists of early dinner on Christmas Eve and opening presents on Christmas morning once Wayne comes back from work.
It’s been that way since Eddie moved in so when Wayne opens Eddie’s door to tell him to wash up before dinner and casually says he invited someone, Eddie is puzzled.
“You– what?”
“Kid, you gotta stop listening to your music so loud,” Wayne says gruffly, rolling his eyes good-naturedly.
“And you need to explain why you invited someone to dinner!” Eddie demands, narrowing his eyes. “Is it a woman? Are you seeing someone, old man?”
“Not a woman, son, just a kid who does deliveries to the plant sometimes. His folks ain’t gonna be around for Christmas so I invited him over.”
Eddie’s lips press into a thin line. He’s known his uncle is a good man since he took him in. He loves him for it. He just wishes it didn’t mean he has to spend Christmas with a stranger.
“Fine, but I’m not dressing up just because someone is coming over!”
“Suit yourself, son, but I think you might wanna.”
Eddie raises his eyebrows. “Why?” Wayne just shrugs and leaves. “Why?” He repeats but gets no response.
Thirty minutes later there’s a knock on the door, and after whining about how this is Wayne’s guest so he should be the one to get the door, Eddie sighs and opens it to reveal–
“Steve Harrington?” Eddie shakes off the shock and flashes him a mocking grin. “Well, well, well, what are you doing on the wrong side of town, Your Highness? Did you get lost?”
The title makes Steve’s nose wrinkle but he lets it slide. “Actually, your uncle invited me.”
Eddie’s jaw drops. “You’re our guest?”
With a shrug, Steve makes a ta-da! gesture. Eddie stares blankly at him.
“Um, are you gonna let me in, Munson, or–” he trails off, hanging a hand from his neck.
“Ed? Is that the Harrington boy?” Wayne asks, snapping Eddie out of it.
“Uh, yeah. Sorry, come in, man.”
Steve gives him an awkward smile and steps inside.
After shaking Wayne’s hand, he politely asks if he can help and Wayne instructs him to fill three glasses with water. The sight of King Steve with his fancy green sweater and his perfect hair rummaging around their kitchen is so shocking that Eddie wonders if he fell into some alternate dimension. He’s glad that, despite his claim, he put on a red flannel and decent jeans instead of just sweatpants and a shirt with holes in it like he planned.
Still, Wayne could’ve done a better job warning him.
Not that Eddie wants to look good for Harrington or anything.
“Ed, get a chair for Steve,” Wayne says and Eddie dutifully brings the chair they almost never use to the table.
“Thanks,” Steve says, smiling softly.
Eddie isn’t used to pretty boys being nice to him so that’s the only reason why he falters, mumbling a you’re welcome and grabbing the seat furthest from Steve. Considering their table is small, it’s not far enough.
Dinner goes- surprisingly well, actually. Steve and Wayne talk about sports while Eddie rolls his eyes and makes comments about sport culture and conformity. He expects Steve to act annoyed like jocks do when he starts ranting, but he smiles amusedly instead.
And no, that doesn’t make Eddie’s stomach flutter.
After the sports talk, Wayne asks Eddie about his band. He expects Steve to tune him out since he probably doesn’t care what a freak like him does in his free time but he perks up, eyes going wide.
“A band? That’s cool, man!” He says and then starts throwing questions at him about the band’s name and the type of music they play. He even says he’d love to see them play someday.
Wayne’s knowing smile when Eddie blushes thankfully goes unnoticed by Steve.
When they’re done eating, Steve goes to his car to grab something while Wayne and Eddie clean up.
“Really? You couldn’t mention that our guest was Steve?”
“So you could lock yourself in your room? You’re the reason I invited him, boy.”
Eddie gasps. “This was a set up!”
“About time you brought a boy home.”
“Except I didn’t!” Eddie sputters. “You did.”
“You’re welcome.”
Steve comes back then, clearing his throat. “I know you do presents in the morning, but I still wanted to bring something.”
He gives Wayne a bottle of whiskey that probably costs more than his van and a small bag to Eddie. Inside, there’s a Beholder miniature.
“How did you–”
Steve starts rambling. “I know that you run that nerd club and this kid I know is obsessed with that game so I asked him what would be a nice gift for someone like you. He probably thought I was getting it for him and might be disappointed but–”
“Thanks, Steve,” Eddie interrupts once he finally finds his words.
Steve gives him a shy smile. And maybe this one makes his heart stutter.
When all they do is stare at each other, Wayne clears his throat.
Flustered, Steve announces he’s heading out. “Thanks for inviting me. I haven’t had a Christmas dinner in years.”
“You’re welcome, kid,” Wayne says. “Ed, will you see him out? Gotta get ready for my shift.”
“Sure, old man.”
At the door, Steve hesitates. “Sorry I crashed your Christmas dinner. Your uncle wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
Eddie snorts, fiddling with the figurine. “He’s a stubborn old man.”
“Not that I didn’t have fun,” he quickly adds, “I did.”
“Yeah, uh, me too.”
Steve’s pink tongue darts out along his bottom lip.
“Like, enough fun that I could do it again.”
Eddie stops fidgeting and blinks at him. “Hang out with me and my uncle?”
“Or just you,” Steve says and he looks– almost nervous.
Oh.
There’s no denying the butterflies in his stomach this time. “Yeah,” Eddie says, watching Steve start to smile. “I’d like that.”
becoming who you've always been | Current word count: 5030
Here's some of lil!Eddie spending Christmas with Uncle Wayne:
The sound of cups clinking on the counter wake Eddie up and he debates just staying in bed. It’s nice and cozy under the comforter Uncle Wayne draped over him last night and he knows that the cold outside likes to seep into the trailer. Something gets set on the stove, followed by a cabinet door slamming shut. If the soft curse he hears Wayne mutter is to be believed, it wasn’t on purpose - which means he can curl up under the covers for just a few more minutes.
“G’mornin’ Ed.”
One eye peeks open and Eddie can see his uncle sitting at the end of the bed. His favorite mug is sitting in Wayne’s hands, Garfield smiling at him. The marshmallows overflowing in the top give it away that he’s made his infamous Munson Hot Chocolate. Eddie perks up quick, tugging the comforter up as he sits. Wayne passes him the mug with a smile, and it warms him more than the ceramic in his hands ever could.
send me a number between 1 and 821 and i'll post and read the corresponding fic on my tbr
@sentient-trash sent: #24
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
>>fanart here<<
by: @sporecircles
rating: G
tags: this is the fluffiest god damn fic i've ever fucking written, wayne munson is the father we all deserve, This is an AU, eleven gets adopted by the munsons instead, Inspired by Stranger Things (TV 2016), Eddie Munson Lives, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson Needs a Hug, Gay Eddie Munson, Soft Eddie Munson, Protective Eddie Munson, Protective Wayne Munson, Supportive Wayne Munson, Good Uncle Wayne Munson, Wayne Munson-centric, I Love Wayne Munson, Good Parent Wayne Munson, Awesome Wayne Munson, Domestic Violence, little mentions of dv but no graphic details, i spent all day writing this and it is perhaps my most beloved, Family Fluff
A tired sigh left Wayne’s lips as he took in the sight before him and leaned against the doorframe of his trailer. This was the third time this had happened, meaning this was just the third time Eddie was caught.
Wayne dragged his eyes from his sheepishly smiling nephew to the police chief standing behind the boy with his arms crossed, his mustache bristling in irritation. Wayne dropped his hand from where it was pinching the bridge of his nose to offer Hopper a rueful smile of his own.
“Sorry, Chief,” he mumbled.
A grunt was all he got in answer, but at least Hopper was moving to undo the handcuffs binding his nephew’s wrists behind his back. The slight tuft of hair growing back after that unfortunate buzzcut looked like a rat’s nest, but at least the kid was grinning up at him instead of scowling. Small mercies.
“Next time I catch him skipping school, Munson, I’m throwing him in the drunk tank. I don’t care if he’s a minor,” Hopper warned threateningly, shoving Eddie between the shoulder blades towards his uncle.
Wayne swiftly clasped Eddie by the shoulders and pushed him into the trailer before Eddie could retaliate with a rude hand gesture like he knew the kid wanted to do. Elizabeth would faint if she had been around to see it, he was certain, lord rest her soul.
“Don’t worry, Chief. I’ll personally drive him to and from school if I have to,” Wayne grimaced, which caused Eddie to squawk from behind him. Though, not out of embarrassment as he had originally thought.
“Uncle Wayne! You can’t miss work like that!” Eddie exclaimed, looking genuinely worried. And it was true; if Wayne had to call out any more than he already had since his brother Al started leaving Eddie home alone, his hours might get cut even more than they already were. Or worse.
Wayne raised a single eyebrow at Eddie, pleased that his nephew was sweet enough to worry about him, but also hoping it got the point across. “Then let’s hope I won’t have any reason to do so,” he dryly remarked.
Eddie looked appropriately shamefaced, his big dark eyes dropping to the floor as he dragged the toes of his ratty shoes over the ground. Wayne eyed him a moment longer before turning back to look at Hopper with an apologetic expression.
“I’ll keep an eye on him.”
“See that you do,” Hopper gruffly stated, looking away for a moment before letting out a sigh of his own. “I can only cut the kid so much slack. I don’t want to see him go down the same road as his pop.”
Wayne winced a little, his younger brother always a sore point for his nephew, who stiffened before huffing and walking back towards Wayne’s room—which frequently became Eddie’s room when Wayne made him stay with him instead of living in that old house all by his lonesome.
“He’s a good kid, Hop,” Wayne murmured, despite the sound of the bedroom door slamming. “He’s more like Elizabeth than he is Alan.”
Hopper glanced off to the side where Wayne’s bedroom was located. “Let’s hope he’s got some of his uncle in him too,” he muttered, which caused Wayne to feel a small flush of embarrassed pride. “Elizabeth was a good sort, but…”
Well, she had married Al, hadn’t she? Wayne got what Hopper meant.
Wayne took the few steps down to grab Eddie’s backpack Hopper held out, clapping his shoulder with a small nod of thanks. He knew that Hopper was the only one who cut the kid any sort of slack at all, knew that if it had been one of his deputies or officers that Wayne would be picking Eddie up at the jailhouse instead.
“I appreciate it, Chief. Really I do.”
Hopper just gave another grunt before stepping back. “Nothing against you, Wayne, but let’s stop meeting like this, yeah?”
Wayne couldn’t help but give another small grin. “I could invite you in for coffee so it seems less like a business call,” he lightly teased. “Or if you got a thermos, at least let me top you off.”
Hopper shook his head, though a good portion of his earlier irritation seemed to have left him, a corner of his mustache tilting up slightly with a half-smile. “I’d say next time, but let’s hope there’s not a next time.”
It still felt a little strange to be anything less than completely professional with a lawman, but then Hopper wasn’t like most other police officers. He remembered years ago, back before Hopper had been chief, when the then deputy had caught Wayne in a compromising position with another man.
Now, Wayne knew he wasn’t perfect. Just like his brother after him and their father before them, he was a high school dropout. It wasn’t necessarily by choice, if anything it seemed almost like the curse of Munson men, though he’d be damned if he didn’t try his hardest to encourage his nephew to strive for something greater.
Wayne was…content, he supposed, with his situation in life now. Sure, he might wish he didn’t have to work so much just to barely make ends meet, but he earned everything he had through good, honest hard work. But he got lonely sometimes, and for people like him, well…there wasn’t much for a man to do when he preferred the company of other men.
He knew it had been stupid to do it, knew it was a damn risk, but he’d still let Reggie Thompson crowd him against the brick alley wall by the sickly sweet smelling dumpster outside the bar. And it had been great at first—minus the dumpster—but then the flashing lights of a police cruiser had ignited their hiding place and Reggie took off without a glance back at him, Wayne fumbling with his jeans that had been shoved down to his knees.
Newly minted Deputy James Hopper had caught him like that, literal pants down, unable to deny what he had been up to with another man. Wayne felt the cold certainty that he was about to be beaten to death, or worse, and just hoped it would be quick. A cop catching a fag in action? Yeah, there had only been one way Wayne saw that playing out.
Except…Hopper had looked uncomfortable, embarrassed, but he hadn’t reached for his baton or gun or anything. He didn’t threaten Wayne, or blackmail him, and there was no disgust on his face or in his voice when he’d just warned Wayne off on public indecency and suggested getting a motel room next time. Let him off with a warning instead of a ticket. Or a bloody head.
And that was it.
Hopper never brought it up again after that, never treated Wayne any differently, never harassed him or anything else. Wayne didn’t know if Hopper saw who he had been with beyond a very male body, but Reggie never acted like he’d been accosted afterwards either, though Wayne heard that he’d bought his girlfriend a wedding ring the very next day.
He wouldn’t say he and the police chief were friends or anything, but they were friendly, allowing the two of them to exchange an occasional dry remark, smile, and even a nod of acknowledgment and greeting when crossing paths outside of the times Hopper brought Eddie home. Or Wayne had to bail his brother out of the drunk tank.
And things continued like that for a little while, and much to Wayne’s chagrin, it wasn’t the last time Hopper brought Eddie home to him either. (Even after it was Eddie’s official home, after Al dipped out for good. Wayne would always love his brother, but he could acknowledge that he wasn’t a good man or a good father. Hell, he wasn’t even a good brother.)
Slowly, however, hardly without Wayne realizing it, things began changing between him and Hopper.
It began with Hopper actually accepting a cup of coffee one night when he brought Eddie home from a house party he had crashed out in Loch Nora, much to Eddie’s horror. The look of betrayal he gave Wayne had been hilarious, all things considered.
Then, before Benny’s alleged suicide, Hopper had been leaving the diner when Wayne had entered and Hopper had called out to Benny to add Wayne’s coffee to his tab, a favor returned from their last shared cup together at the trailer. Wayne had protested, then somehow had settled on that he would allow it only if Hopper joined him next time.
And, strangely enough, Hopper did.
It didn’t quite become a regular thing, but if they happened to be in the same place at the same time, they would always join the other. Wayne was there during some bad days of Hopper’s, and Hopper was there when Wayne felt like he was failing Eddie, and eventually he thought he might actually consider them friends.
He didn’t let himself think about what else he felt for the man.
Wayne had actually bought Hopper a beer when he learned that the man had adopted a young girl out of seemingly nowhere, remembering those dark days after his first daughter’s passing. The man looked good, happier than he had in a while, and Wayne found himself enjoying the way his mustache would twitch when he smiled.
Of course, after that first beer, Hopper made Wayne accept a return in favor. Which then had Wayne buying the next round, and Hopper the next after that.
And then Wayne did something very very stupid.
He kissed him.
They had been stumbling out of the bar, laughing and smiling like the friends Wayne was amazed they were, both far drunker than they had initially been intending to be that night. Their bar stools had gotten closer and closer during the night as well, until Wayne could feel the warmth of Hopper’s knee pressed against his own.
Hopper’s voice had been low, a rumble that matched the mischievous look in his eyes, and Wayne was but a simple man. And he was lonely. It was hard being gay in a place like Hawkins, much less when your one-bedroom trailer had your nephew in said bedroom and you slept on the rolling bed in the living room.
So they’d stumbled into the night, laughing about if they should call a cab or walk, Hopper’s hand warm on his lower back to keep balance when the chief’s eyes scanned over to the very same alley he’d once accosted Wayne in years ago.
Wayne’s heart stuttered in his chest, this being the first Hopper acknowledged Wayne’s queerness since that first night, especially when Hopper snorted with a wry smile and crooked smile.
“Still can’t believe making out in filth is worth it,” he huffed, and Wayne was just drunk enough to convince himself he heard curiosity there.
Wayne shoved his fear down to grin at Hopper, reaching out to grab his shirt’s lapel and dragged Hopper into the alley, the other man letting out another amused snort.
“You’ll find that you’re willing to put up with a lot of shit if you’re desperate enough,” he teased in return. The dumpster’s location had moved since he was there last, but no matter. Wayne found a spot and quickly turned himself so that he was falling back against the rough bricks and grinned once more at Hopper.
Who, because of Wayne’s grip on his shirt, was forced to stumble forward with him, his hands shooting out to catch himself on the alley wall, bracketing Wayne in between his arms.
“See?” Wayne breathed, his eyes dropping to where Hopper’s lips were partly hidden by his mustache there. He swallowed, licked his lips, and felt a thrill when Hopper’s eyes tracked the movement. “Not so bad, is it?”
Hopper took a small step closer, and Wayne could feel the heat of him radiating against him. And he was so, so lonely. He’d given up looking for companionship once Eddie moved in with him, not that he’d had much of a selection to begin with, unless he left town for one of the bigger cities.
“No,” Hopper had rumbled, voice lower than ever, and Wayne’s toes curled in his boots. “Not bad at all.”
Wayne released Hopper’s shirt to press his hand flat against Hopper’s chest, his thumb lightly stroking over the hair that peaked out between the open buttons. Hopper shivered against him, but made no move to stop him. Emboldened, Wayne then slid his hand up, curling it behind Hopper’s neck, feeling the air between them grow thicker, heavier. Needier. His other hand settled on Hopper’s hip.
“Wayne—” Hopper started to say, leaning in, but Wayne was already ahead of him.
He tugged Hopper closer, pressing their lips together, wasting no time in tasting the lingering beer on Hopper’s tongue as he opened his mouth up to him. Hopper groaned, pressing even closer as his hands moved to Wayne’s hips, holding him against the wall. It only took a brief shift of his hips to slot a thigh between Hopper’s, making the man groan even louder and rock forward against him.
Wayne felt the insane urge to ask if that was a gun in Hopper’s pocket, but he had no intention of releasing Hopper’s mouth to do so. Instead, he rutted up, rocking with Hopper in the dirty alley as their tongues slid together, all but moaning in Hopper’s mouth as he felt Hopper’s answering desire against his own.
And then a can clattered at the entrance of the alley, causing the two men to suddenly jerk apart, staring wide eyed as a drunk stumbled past the mouth of the alley without seeing them. Wayne pressed a hand to his chest before turning in sudden horrified realization towards Hopper.
The police chief.
Who he had just assaulted, if Hopper chose to see it that way.
And Hopper wouldn’t meet his eyes, was scrunched in on himself, and Wayne felt a brief fear that Eddie wouldn’t ever know what happened to him. Cops were good at hiding bodies.
Hopper didn’t lash out, however. He didn’t reassure Wayne, but he didn’t hit him either. Instead he just stood there in a silence that Wayne didn’t dare break. Until finally, with a pained glance in Wayne’s direction, Hopper murmured a quiet ‘sorry’ and then quickly left the alley without another look behind him.
Wayne wondered briefly if he should tell Eddie to sleep at a friend’s for the next few days, just in case a mob showed up at the trailer, but then he felt immediately bad for thinking such things of Hopper.
Life continued on, though the once easy companionship he and Hopper had shared was now clearly over. Wayne heard it through the grapevine that Chief Hopper and Joyce Byers were going to go on a date.
Wayne hated gossip.
He hated he couldn’t stop listening for it even more.
And then Hopper died.
Wayne couldn’t go to the memorial service. They had been friends, once, though things had been strained between them after the alley. Back to being acquaintances, back to being strangers. Now they were nothing.
It wasn’t the first time he had to mourn someone in secret, but this time hurt far worse.
He was forced to confront the true depth of his feelings for the man he would never see again.
Then, months later, he walked into his trailer to find the mutilated remains of a dead cheerleader, his nephew nowhere to be found.
It was the worst week of his life. He couldn’t lose anyone else, he couldn’t, especially not his sweet boy. It would kill him.
And then, miracle of miracles, his nephew was found. Hurt, broken, but alive. Rushed to the hospital by the Harrington boy with their younger neighbor, but alive.
He was put in a medical coma while he healed, and believe it or not but it was Harrington—or Steve, as he asked to be called—who ranted and bitched and demanded that Eddie not be handcuffed to his bed when he wasn’t even conscious and wouldn’t be until the hospital let him.
It was Steve who, on the other side facing Wayne and the door, sat beside Eddie’s bed more often than not. And when he wasn’t, he was usually at the Mayfield girl’s, or volunteering with the relief effort.
Steve was there that day, facing the door Wayne had his back to, when he glanced up from the magazine he was reading with a heavy sigh of relief.
“Thank god. Have your creeps cleared the charges yet?” Steve huffed with a roll of his eyes.
Wayne was just in the process of turning around to see who Steve was talking to when he heard his voice.
“Jesus, kid, there were some things that were a little more important than clearing someone in a coma. No offense, Wayne.”
Wayne froze, his breath caught in his throat. It was impossible. And yet, as he slowly turned around, there he was: Hopper.
He was skinnier, and balder, than the last time he’d seen him. And missing his mustache. Hell, he looked more like Wayne now than Wayne did, his own facial hair far scragglier as he hadn’t cared about its upkeep while his nephew was in the hospital.
“Hop?” he gasped, standing swiftly from his chair and making an aborted movement to reach out for his old friend, before remembering they weren’t like that anymore. He drew back, but couldn’t stop the way his eyes roamed over Hopper in disbelief.
“Yeah, it’s me,” Hopper said, quieter, and if Wayne could believe it, more self-consciously.
“Well I take offense,” Steve said with his hands on his hips, standing now to frown at Hopper. “I don’t care what story they want to use, they just better clear his name. After everything we’ve went through because of them, it’s the least they can do.”
Hopper sighed, rolling his eyes in that exaggerated way he had, like everyone else was a pain in his ass. Wayne loved it.
“Yeah, yeah. Send them a therapy bill,” Hopper muttered. He then indicated with a thumb over his shoulder to the door. “Go get something to eat, kid. You look worse than me.”
Steve grinned then, a little cheeky. “Yeah,” he agreed with a laugh. “Welcome to the club, by the way, comrade. Robin’s making us tee shirts.”
“I look forward to it. Now go on before I call Buckley and tell her you’re bleeding out.”
Steve looked horrified at that threat, swiftly grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair he’d been in and hurrying out the door. “The doctor said the stitches are healing perfectly!” he grumbled in complaint as he left.
And then it was just Wayne and Hopper. And Eddie, technically. Hopefully he couldn’t hear any of this, because it was getting harder and harder not to let the tears building up behind his eyes loose. Not that there was anything wrong with crying, of course.
Wayne had always taught Eddie to feel his feelings, instead of shoving them down under the false belief that men were weren’t supposed to cry. Being sensitive didn’t mean being weak.
He felt weak now though.
“Hopper? Are you really…”
Hopper scrubbed a hand over his shaved head, looking down at his boots for a moment before glancing back up at Wayne. “It’s, uh…kind of a long story. But I’m alive. Officially again. And don’t tell Steve, the brat, but Eddie’s cleared too. He’s free to go home as soon as he’s healed up enough. The doctors are going to bring him out of the coma soon.”
A gasping sob of relief left Wayne before he could stop it, twin fat tears rolling down his cheeks, followed by more. Not only was his nephew alive, healing, and cleared of all charges, but the man he thought he had lost forever was alive and standing right before him.
Sure, he couldn’t have him the way he wanted, but just having him alive was enough. He wouldn’t dare look that gift horse in the mouth. There had been no body to bury, believed to have been lost in the fire, but now he knew why.
Hopper looked conflicted, and then he was glancing over his shoulder at the open door. Wayne tried to reel his tears back in, Hopper obviously looking for an escape, but Wayne wasn’t fast enough and Hopper was once more striding towards the door and away from him.
Except…except Hopper didn’t leave through the door. No, he closed it, throwing the lock and then turning on his heel and striding with purpose back towards Wayne. Before Wayne could even think to flinch, however, Hopper’s hands were caging his face and drawing him forward and—
The kiss tasted of tears.
It didn’t hold the desperate heat like it had in the alley, yet Wayne was gasping into it regardless. One of Hopper’s hands left his face to wrap around his back, pulling him closer, and Wayne might be a middle aged man who did hard labor for a living, but he swore he felt his knees go weak.
Hopper pulled back slowly, though he didn’t go far, pressing his forehead to Wayne’s with a soft breath. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “The entire time, all I could think about was that I had to come back, for El, and for you.”
“Hop…” Wayne’s thoughts were racing. He had a million questions he wanted to asked, like how was he even here right now, where had he been, what was going on, but all that could escape him was: “Joyce?”
Hopper snorted, pulling away with a small wry smile and shake of his head. “I had thought…” He trailed off, taking a deep breath. “I thought the spark was still there between us, thought it was what I wanted, but…all I could think about was you. I miss our friendship, Wayne. I would lay awake at night, wondering how things might have turned out differently if I hadn’t left that night in the alley.”
Wayne shook his head, trying desperately to get his thoughts in order. He had to be dreaming. He just had to be. Yet…there was Hopper, solid and real and and warm and alive.
“I don’t need you to…to be something you’re not, Jim,” he finally managed to get out after clearing his throat, stepping further away and wiping at his face. “I just need you alive. And hopefully as a friend.”
Hopper studied him for a moment, and there was a darkness to his eyes that reminded Wayne of how they used to look back when Vietnam had been fresher, the darkness of a soldier who had seen far too much bloodshed. But there was also something he’d never seen before too, at least not directed at himself. Not from Hopper.
“You have me as a friend, Wayne, always.” Hopper reached out, slowly, to take Wayne’s hand in his. He’d never been the touchy-feely short, Hopper, but now he brought Wayne’s hand to his chest, holding it there beneath his own. “But also…hopefully as something more.”
More.
He couldn’t have stopped the smile on his face even if he’d tried.
Wayne wanted more.
Later, Eddie would be brought out of the coma. Later, Eddie would come home to their new government funded bungalow. Later, Wayne would find Steve as attached to Eddie’s side as he had been in the hospital. Later, he would find Steve in Eddie’s bed, instead of beside it. Later, Wayne would get to see Eddie smile, hear him laugh, and watch him fall in love with a boy who loved him back.
Later, Eddie would catch Wayne and Hopper in a compromising position and complain that, when he said ‘fuck the police’, he didn’t mean it like that.
Later, Wayne would have his more. He would have his everything.
~
This is only Steddie adjacent but y’all are getting tagged anyways.
queer people of all kinds. i am looking you in the eyes. do not fucking kill yourself. are you listening to me it will be okay. it will get better. i am shaking you by the shoulders do. not. fucking. do. it. you have so much to keep going for and so many people who love you. the cost of the present will not outweigh the life ahead of you. i love you. chin up or down keep walking you'll get there. we will pull you back up onto your feet should you fall. i love you
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