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humanityinahandbag · 10 months

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Steddie: Wayne the Matchmaker (Part 1?)

Wayne wasn't born yesterday.

He knows full well that his nephew, his boy, is far gone for the Harrington kid. Knows it in the way he sighs, the way he drapes himself over the couch. Knows it in the way lyrics pour out of Eddie's room while he tries to write songs (just last Tuesday he heard Eddie muttering goddammit what rhymes with chest hair from behind his bedroom door).

So it isn't much of a surprise to see Eddie swooning quietly by the front door as he shoves his feet into ratty sneakers, a red car waiting in the driveway. Government hush money had been enough for Wayne to take less shifts, to put some away for Eddie's future, and to buy a modest one floor ranch house on a tree lined street closer to his boy's new friends.

Including the one currently walking carefully around the newly planted posies towards the front door.

"You seein' that Harrington boy again?" he asks.

Eddie's face went pink, and he ducked down pretending to look through his backpack for something. "Yeah," he says behind a curtain of hair. "We're going to the movies."

"S'nice. What are you seein'?"

"Uh, the new David Bowie thing. Labyrinth."

Wayne ignores how Eddie phrases it, like he hadn't been bouncing off the walls to see that little David Bowie Thing when the posters first showed up outside Melvalds. "Doesn't much seem his taste. He choose it?"

"Yeah, he-" Eddie stops and looks up. "Don't."

"Don't what?"

"Don't do that," Eddie says, fixing his Uncle with a frosty stare. "I know what you're doing, and we're just- we're friends. He's- he likes his ex. You should see them, honestly. They're like, perfect together. Dream couple." As if Wayne didn't hear the sorrow behind his tone.

"Mmmhm," says Wayne. "You sure?"

Eddie didn't get a chance to rebuttal when the door was knocked. Wayne opens it before he could.

"Hi, sir." Always polite this one. Steve's wearing a polo shirt and light wash jeans. It all looks newly pressed. And if he breathes in- yup. That's definitely cologne. "Uh, I'm here for Eddie?"

"Yeah, he's here. You wanna come in-"

"He doesn't." Eddie pops out from behind the door, glaring over his shoulder at Wayne. "C'mon, Stevie! We'll miss the previews!"

"Bye, Mr. Munson!" Steve calls over his shoulder. He grabs Eddie by the back of the collar, tugging him backwards, laughing and racing him to the car.

And well. This just wouldn't do.

Wayne never pretended to know a whole lot about love. He'd had his flings back in the day, but life had given him more curveballs than he'd been able to catch at once.

Not that he was complaining. Eddie was one of the best things that had ever happened to him.

But dammit if he didn't want the kid falling down the same hole he had.

Eddie deserves love. And Wayne figures that a few gentle nudges wouldn't hurt.

It starts with simple suggestion.

The next time Steve is at the front door, Wayne makes sure to distract Eddie with a well timed, "fix your hair," that had him scrambling for the bathroom, leaving Wayne alone with the Harrington boy.

"Steve," he says.

"Mr. Munson! Nice to see you. Um, we're just going to the arcade-"

"He likes sticky hands."

Steve blinks. "Sorry?"

"If you're gonna win him anything, get him one'a those sticky hands. It'll be hell on me, but he loves'm."

Steve nods, like it was precious information, perking up when Eddie breaks out of the bathroom.

When they get back, Eddie is considerably pinker, slapping everything around the house with a stupid pink sticky hand on a string.

"Steve won it for me," he says, as if daring Wayne to take it away.

Wayne only cracks another beer.

(He tells himself over and over that this is for the pursuit of love, even when he wants to shove Eddie out a window the fourth time a very sticky hand thwacks him on the back of his bald head.)

"He likes sunflowers," Wayne says the next time he sees Steve, which just so happens to be a week before graduation. Steve had arrived with a cake. A cake he baked. From scratch. Eddie had run to get his camera to take a picture and that was when Wayne got his chance.

Steve looks up at Wayne owlishly. "Sorry?"

"Sunflowers," Wayne repeats. "If you get him flowers for graduation, that's what he likes."

Steve nods seriously, brow drawn in thought. "Cool," he says finally. "Sunflowers."

Eddie gets sunflowers for graduation. He presses one of the petals between the pages of The Hobbit.

"Still think he's just a friend?" Wayne asks from the doorway.

Eddie traces the petal and closes the book. "It's enough," he says.

Wayne gives his nephew a long look. "You're allowed to like him."

"I know."

"No. You're allowed to like him," Wayne says again. "Like him like you like him."

Eddie stares at the petal. "I know," he says. And then; "I love him."

"I know," says Wayne and bundles Eddie into a hug.

Wayne gets to a point where he could gnaw through the walls of their new home, which he won't do, because Claudia Henderson chose the wallpaper and chewing on furniture is mostly frowned upon. But by god does he want to.

Wherever Eddie is, Steve follows. He appears at their front door to take Eddie on hikes. When he heard Eddie never learned to swim, he takes him to the quarry and Eddie comes back damp and flushed and Wayne guesses it has something to do with the shirtless boy in the driveway.

And yet through it all, Eddie doesn't see.

He doesn't see the long looks or the careful touches. Doesn't grasp the meaning behind Steve appearing one night with a bag of groceries and a smile and an announcement of I'm cooking you dinner! before making the best damn lasagne Wayne's ever had.

Instead, Eddie fawns and sighs and does everything he can to make Steve happy. Dotes and compliments and builds him up until Steve is red and spluttering and beaming.

Eddie is a good boy. Wayne raised a good boy, who loves fiercely and wholly, but somehow didn't think he was worth the same trouble.

And. Well. That just wouldn't do.

Wayne wants time to come up with some kind of a plan, but fate was a sporadic fucking asshole and chose for him. Which is how Wayne finds himself answering the phone on a Thursday to hear Steve's voice on the other line.

"Mr. Munson?"

"Steve. Eddie ain't home. He's at band practice."

"Oh," Steve says. "Right, uh. Can you tell him that I called?"

Wayne thinks a moment. "I can," he says, slowly. "But first, I'd like to talk to you."

A long pause. He can practically hear Steve sweating on the other line. "Me?"

"You," says Wayne. "S'only that you've been here an awful lot lately. Eddie's taken a real shine to you. You know that?"

"He's one of my closest friends, Mr. Munson."

"Mmmhm. An' I'm glad for him. But I don't mean like that."

He hears Steve suck in a breath on the other end. "Oh."

"Not that it's any of my business, an' maybe these old eyes are seein' things, but I catch you lookin' from time to time. Then again, I'm just an' old man-"

"You're not that old," Steve says. "And. Your eyes work great. Probably better than mine."

Good first step. Buttering up the parents.

"So. Just so we're on the same page, Mr. Munson. Eddie told me that you know about him. That he likes. Um. Yunno."

"Men."

"Yeah," says Steve, relieved. "Yeah, men, right. And so I was thinking the other day that I'm a man!"

"So you are," says Wayne.

"And it came to my attention a few months ago that people can like both. Which is- which is crazy. But I guess it's not so crazy. I used to work in an ice cream store and people would order the weirdest combos. Like... strawberry and pistachio? And I'd say, you can't like both! But then Robin told me I could."

"Steve."

"Right. So anyway. I've been spending all this time with Eddie. But I wasn't really sure. I mean, he can like men. But that doesn't mean he'd like my type of man. That I am. Man-wise."

Wayne hums. "And if I told you he did like your type of man? Man wise?"

"I'd probably ask if he liked Italian or Chinese, sir."

Outside Wayne can hear Eddie's van rolling back down the street. "He likes lo mein. No onions."

"Okay," breathes Steve.

"And even if he looks like an angry alley cat, the boy likes romance. You hear me, son? Candles, flowers, showin' up at windows."

"I can do that," says Steve. "I'm great at romance."

Eddie's car rolls into the driveway and Wayne looks out the window, waving to Eddie as he cuts the engine and the music and steps out. His boy stops to carefully step over the flowers first, waving back.

His good boy, who pours love out until he's empty and never complains. He deserves to have it poured back.

"You're welcome anytime, Steve," says Wayne earnestly. "Anyone who makes my boy as happy as he is- you're welcome anytime."

Eddie walks in as Wayne hangs up. "Who was that?"

Wayne tugs him into a hug. "No one," he says. And then, "go shower. You smell like Gareth's garage."

"Like a goddamn rockstar, you mean?" Eddie ducks away from a swat and laughs, running down the hall.

Like a kid in love, Wayne thinks, and turns on the game.

With ao3 being down (pour one out, I'm donating my life savings once they're back up) I got feral enough to write a one shot on here. I can't update my other Wayne Matchmaker fic. So. Yunno. This will have to do for now.

Does this need a part 2? You tell me.

LONGER, EDITED VERSION NOW ON AO3!

(IF I POST A PART 2 IT WILL BE THERE :D)

#steddie #steddie fanfic #steddie oneshot #boys in love #eddie munson #steve henderson #uncle wayne #wayne munson #good uncle wayne #eddie munson the gremlin #pour one out for ao3 #we miss you #we'll never take you for granted again #my god i'm feral #sticky hands

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