#it's been a while but look i'm back on my clarkson bullshit

[unclewaynemunson]

It's October when the autumn chill officially dawns over Hawkins. Wayne wakes up to fogged-up windows, and his bones protest loudly when he stretches to get up and make himself some warm coffee. It's too early in the year to turn on the heating; if they start that now, they'll be bankrupt before it's even January. So while the coffee is brewing, he shrugs off the old shirt he uses as a pajama, and puts on as many layers as he'll need to keep himself warm: first an undershirt, then a soft flannel, and then a faded brown sweater that's been sitting uselessly in his closet all through the summer. It's patched up at the elbows to conceal the holes that have fallen into it, but still warm and comfortable, which is all Wayne can really ask for.

'Ed, got coffee for ya!' he calls out when he's changed into his jeans and the coffee is almost ready.

Some muffled noises sounding vaguely like 'lemmesleeeeeep' emerge from the other side of the thin wall.

Wayne chuckles as he turns on the gas, deciding he might as well make scrambled eggs for breakfast; a thinly-veiled excuse to heat up the trailer by using the stove.

'And eggs in a minute!'

Another string of muffled sounds emerges from Eddie's bedroom, 'stoocold' being the only semi-decipherable one.

For a moment, Wayne feels guilty. He knows, deep down, that this is nothing more than his Eddie being dramatic. But that doesn't change his wish that he could simply turn on the heat without giving it a second thought and make Eddie's Sunday morning just slightly more comfortable. He doesn't care about the chill in his own bones, he's had worse. He doesn't care about the condensation on the windows, that is now changing into thick droplets that are gliding down to the windowsill, leaving traces of soot in their wake. He's not even sure if he'd ever want to live in a real, proper house. But the one thing he does want, is to get his nephew through the season warm and comfortable without having to count every penny.

Eddie finally emerges from his bedroom, with only his head peeking out of the blanket he has wrapped himself in, and a sleepy look in his eyes. The phone starts ringing just as Wayne greets him, and Eddie, who's closer to it, shuffles towards it.

Almost immediately after he picks up, his eyes shed their drowsy look and light up in a way that Wayne has come to know all too well, while his mouth curves into a wicked grin.

'No, sir, he's not here,' Eddie says into the phone, his eyes wide and innocent. 'When he didn't come home last night, I assumed he'd be spending the night with you. I guess he must have a secret lover we both don't know about.'

Wayne abruptly turns off the gas and barges towards Eddie, who barks out a laugh while he jumps back as far as the phone cord allows him.

'Just joking, Mr. Clarke, he is here!' he calls out in an annoyingly triumphed tone. 'And he can't wait to talk to you, here he is!'

Wayne playfully shoves Eddie against the wall as he takes the phone from him.

'Sorry for my menace of a nephew, Scott,' he says.

He hears a chuckle on the other side of the line, slightly distorted through the horn. It's as if his hand has a will of its own, clenching around the phone and pressing it almost painfully close to his ear; like he'll be able to catch the sound of Scott's laughter better if he could only press himself tighter to his phone.

'Luckily I'm used to middle schoolers, nothing I can't handle here.'

Wayne snorts and turns towards Eddie, who is now shamelessly staring at him from above his blanket-cocoon a few steps away from him.

'Scott says you should stop behavin' like a damn middle schooler,' he grumbles.

'Yep, that sounds exactly like something sweet Scott Clarke would say,' Eddie remarks, that devilish grin still plastered on his face.

'What can I do for ya, Scott?'

'Well, I just came downstairs for breakfast, and when I looked outside, I realized this is our first proper fall day.'

Wayne directs his gaze to the wet kitchen window. He hadn't even thought to look through the droplets on the glass; but now that he does, he realizes Scott is right. The trees around Forest Hills are definitely showing more yellow and orange than they did yesterday, and some patches of fog are still lingering a few feet above the wilted grass and muddy roads. The skies are a light shade of gray, telling Wayne that even though it'll be cold, it won't likely start raining anytime soon.

'I was wondering if you have any plans for today?' Scott's continues in his ear. 'We could go for a walk in the forest, admire the colors, see if we can find some cool mushrooms... What do you think?'

Wayne wonders whether he's imagining the nervous edge to Scott's voice, merely hearing in there what he wants to hear.

'I'm free all day,' Wayne says. He clamps the phone between his ear and his shoulder, needing both his hands to fumble around in his chest pocket and find a cigarette and a lighter. 'You wanna come over after breakfast? I can make a thermos of coffee and we can head into the woods here, I know a nice path around Lov- around the lake.' He can feel Eddie's gaze burning on him, but he refuses to look at his nephew, instead closing his eyes as he places the cigarette between his lips and lights it.

Scott is kind enough to pretend like he didn't notice Wayne's unfortunate stutter.

'A walk around the lake sounds perfect,' he says instead, his voice still as chipper as ever. 'I'll be at yours in an hour. Enjoy your breakfast with Eddie.'

'Real smooth, Uncle Wayne.' Eddie's amused voice cuts through the silence as soon as Wayne has hung the phone back on the hook.

'Don't be ridiculous now, boy,' Wayne grumbles. 'He's my friend.'

'With whom you're gonna hang out at Lover's Lake. Like friends do.' The sarcasm is dripping from Eddie's voice.

'I liked you better when you were still asleep in your bed,' Wayne remarks.

Eddie laughs loudly. 'You shoulda thought about that before you made me come out of it to freeze to death.'

Wayne crosses his arms and shoots Eddie an unimpressed look. 'Are you gonna do anything today or just spending your whole day makin' fun of me?'

Eddie shrugs – or rather, that's what Wayne supposes is happening underneath the moving blanket. 'I'm gonna take the kids to the pumpkin farm with Steve.' He lowers his voice and leans closer towards Wayne, continuing in an conspiratorial voice, 'We call that a date. Maybe you and Mr. Clarke should stop being cowards and come join us. Make it a double date.'

Wayne doesn't say anything; he simply rolls his eyes and walks back to the stove, lighting the gas underneath the frying pan again so he can direct all his attention to his eggs.

---

An hour later, Eddie has left – with a pit stop at the Mayfields' trailer – to pick up Steve. Wayne has done the dishes, dried the windows and filled a thermos with fresh coffee. By the time Scott parks his car in the spot where Eddie's van had been earlier, most of the fog outside has disappeared. Wayne watches him get out of his car through the kitchen window, but he doesn't come outside just yet, afraid it'll make him seem too eager.

Scott knocks on the door and then lets himself in, like he's done many times over the summer that now lies behind them. He's wearing a woolen coat in a dark gray color, with a simple black scarf around his neck.

Wayne feels his hands twitch with the desire to wrap themselves around Scott's waist, to tug him close and bask in the warmth of his body. Would his scarf feel as soft as it looks? Would he smell like fresh autumn air? Would his touch be as warm as the quilt on his couch?

'Oof, it's chilly in here,' Scott remarks, rubbing his hands together.

'I don't get cold that fast.' It's only partly a lie.

'I like the sweater.'

The easy and earnest compliment catches Wayne off-balance; he doesn't know what to do, where to look, where to keep his hands. He wants to escape Scott's approving gaze and hide away somewhere no one can perceive him.

Instead, he clears his throat and thanks the heavens for the fact that Eddie has already left.

'Ready to go?' he asks.

They head into the woods and Wayne leads the way as they stray further from the trailer park. Their feet easily find a rhythm that feels natural to both of them, avoiding the bigger puddles on the path and stopping every now and then to admire toadstools, dewy cobwebs, and fallen leaves in beautiful colors.

As they make their way around Lover's Lake, Wayne ponders what exactly the difference is between what Eddie would call a hangout, and a date. He doesn't exactly have a lot of friends who he hangs out with. He has his colleagues at the plant, of course, who he'd always kept at a distance, which proved him right when they were all too ready to come for his Eddie last March. He has some neighbors he's friendly with; he helps them with a thing or two around their trailers and in return they share a beer or a smoke with him. But he wouldn't call that real friendship either. He has learned long ago how dangerous it can be to let people come too close. Some people only wanted certain things from him, others would judge him when they'd find out a thing too many about him. And the pain of losing a rare, true friend became all too clear to him back in Vietnam.

After that, he mainly stuck to himself. And then it became him and Eddie against the world. He never needed anyone else. He was good at being alone, after all. There was a certain level of comfort to be found in loneliness.

So this thing with Scott – whatever it is – is not something he can compare to anything else. The only thing he knows is that it's definitely not lonely. And that he doesn't want to mess it up and lose the only true friend he's had in decades.

'What's on your mind?' Scott asks when they sit down on a fallen tree at the edge of the lake to enjoy their coffee. 'You've been quiet.'

'I'm always quiet,' Wayne points out.

It makes Scott chuckle softly before he takes a sip of his coffee.

'Not as quiet as you think,' Scott says. 'Today, you're thinking loudly. I can almost hear your thoughts.'

Wayne carefully places his own mug on the tree, then grabs himself a cigarette and lights it, all to buy himself some time. But even after a long drag and another sip of coffee, he still doesn't quite know how to voice his thoughts.

'Was just admirin' the fall colors,' he decides to say instead, when the silence starts taking too long.

He can practically feel Scott's eyes on his face as he stubbornly stares over the water in front of them.

'It really is the perfect day to do that,' Scott finally says. Apparently he has decided he'll let Wayne get away with it this time. Or maybe it isn't like that. Maybe he decided that he'll allow Wayne the time he needs to sort out his thoughts before he can voice them. Maybe he understands that Wayne sometimes needs a while before he's ready to talk about things. Maybe he decided that he didn't want to intrude. Maybe he decided that he values spending time with Wayne, no matter if they're talking or sitting in silence. And maybe this fall will be a little less cold than the ones Wayne has gotten used to, because when he risks a glance towards his left, he sees Scott wearing a smile that's appreciative of the nature around them. It's a smile that warms Wayne from the inside, in a way that the heater in his trailer has never managed to do.

#it's been a while but look i'm back on my clarkson bullshit #don't mind me rambling about stranger things #clarkson my beloved #wayne munson #scott clarke #eddie munson #clarkson #wayne munson x scott clarke #stranger things #fruity ficlet