#Eddie Higgins | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

madaboutmunson · 1 year ago

Text

Hot For Teacher

Fic by me for the @st-rarepair-minibang event Art by the wonderful @busyheadkeepbreathing (Mischievous_Oddity on AO3 - Their fic is posting tomorrow and it is so awesome so keep an eye out for it plus all the other amazing fics they have posted already!) - Thank you so much for these incredible moodboards!

Summary : It's not every day that Eddie wakes up to find that his uncle has managed to seduce someone, and it's definitely not every day that he happens to recognise that same someone. So when he happens to screw up and upset both his uncle and his date there's only one way he can fix it Pairing: Wayne Munson/Principal Higgins Rating: Teen and Up Word Count: 7.7K AO3 Link

Another day, another dollar, Eddie thinks to himself as he idly scratches his stomach whilst taking the time for a stretch and overly dramatic yawn.

He rolls and forces himself to a slumped sit as the morning light battles through his blinds. He rubs his eyes again, reaches for his watch and grunts when he realises he can't just roll back into bed.

You know, graduating was a whole lot shittier than people made it out to be because now, with no college waiting for him at the end of summer, he’s been unceremoniously booted into the world of work. Well. Looking for work. Unfortunately, rockstar was not a job you could just apply for, so Eddie had taken to photocopying his resume of transferable skills and was handing them out everywhere! Handling money, self-motivation, communication skills, attentive to detail, customer service experience, creative, team player. All that jazz. Technically, he has been doing it as part of a band and his little side business at school with the help of Reefer Rick.

’You gotta get your foot in the door, Ed.’ That’s what Wayne had advised when he’d proposed on going on an open mic night road trip around the states, ‘All those other kids’ll be off on vacation, you get first pick for a change. Better chance of finding something you might like when it’s less competitive,’ and as much as he hated everything about it, he knew Wayne was right. But also has to be the sweetest lil’ puppy-eyed nephew he can be because he needs Wayne to take him to jump-start his van, which he had to leave at Gareth’s because the old girl had given up the ghost.

He gets to his feet, puts on his Garfield slippers to match his boxers from the same gift set and pads out quietly to the kitchen.

He rubs his eyes and yawns a little more, making his way to empty and refill the coffee machine.

Gazing bleary-eyed into the living room, he can just about make a form on the fold-out bed. He grabs his mug, and then as the form fidgets on the bed, he sleepily smiles and reaches for another cup.

He’s putting the third sugar in his Garfield mug when something occurs to him. He frowns at the wall and pushes out his bottom lip. Something wasn't right.

Narrowing his eyes, he takes a step backwards and looks into the living room again, and his eyebrows nearly shoot off his face entirely, covering his mouth not to let out a laugh and to hide the mischievous look on his face.

Well, well, well, Ol’ Uncle Wayne seemed to have got lucky last night, the fucking hound dog! The form on the fold-out bed wasn’t his uncle because he was on the sofa. Eddie can see his shiny balding patch from here. He secretly hopes he takes after his mother’s side, who all had full heads of hair until well into their seventies. He steps forward and tries to take a closer look at the form under all of the goddamn blankets. Shit, his Uncle is taking chivalry to a whole new level, probably freezing his balls off for this chick.

Eddie grimaces, hoping they hadn't been bumping uglies, and he was breathing in their stale sex air, fucking gross! No, they’d be all snuggled up together, and his Uncle is a gent, not a one-night-stand guy. No way.

He smiles and begins plotting all the ways he will mercilessly tease Wayne about this for the rest of the month at least. He reaches up to the cupboard to get another mug, pours half a cup, no sugar or milk, and finishes the one for himself and Wayne.

He hears the creak of the couch springs first, then a gruff but hushed, “Mornin’ Ed. You’re up early, ain't ya?”

“Well, you know the early bird gets the worm and all that shit,” Eddie whispers with a theatrical splaying of his hands, “Talkin’ of dirty old grubs, who’s your friend here? Didn’t you make me promise to tell ya if I had someone stay over? Do these rules not apply to you?” Eddie blinks like one of his condescending teachers at school, and his uncle rolls his eyes with a wry smile.

“Shut up and gimme my coffee, you little punk,” Wayne teases.

“Why don’t you wake up your friend here, so I can take her fucking order, too, huh?” Eddie pretends to be put out and curtsies, but he can’t hide his smile. This moment was going to fund the bank of ribbing his Uncle for weeks.

“I don't think that's a good idea. Best let ‘em sleep. He had a rough night.”

Inches away from picking up Wayne’s cup, Eddie’s human engine completely cuts out. First of all, what was he hiding? Second, he sounded nervous. Wayne only ever sounds nervous when the church women come around and start fussing about the place. And last, he’s still sleepy but heard what he heard.

“He?” Eddie questions quietly with raised eyebrows.

“Yeah, he. That a problem?” Wayne says with all the defiance of a teenage girl being asked about her greaser boyfriend in the fifties. If he had the capacity for a ponytail, he’d be swishing with attitude at Eddie right now.

Well fuck! Is his Uncle gay? Not an issue if he is. Eddie’s very open-minded when it comes to all that sort of thing. In all fairness, he’d never known his uncle to be involved with anyone. At one point, he thought maybe he’d had his dick blown off in ‘Nam or something, and that's why he wasn’t interested in that kind of thing. My god! That raises new questions. What kind of guy had changed his Uncle’s mind? A hundred bucks says this guy thinks John Wayne is the greatest or is at least from the South because those were the two things that you could talk about five miles away from his Uncle, and he’d magically turn up with a big smile on his face like, “Talkin’ ‘bout Cowboys are ya?” Eddie facepalms. What an idiot. Now, it makes sense. No wife and no kids (apart from the blessing that was his good self). He always said he had better things to do but was obsessed with Westerns and Cowboys. Clearly, it's not just for the predictable plots.

Taking a sip of his coffee and setting it down on the countertop, he leans over and observes the shuffling form. Now he knows it's not a broad. He doesn't have to avert his eyes.

“Don't gawk, Eddie, Jesus!” Wayne mouths quietly, making Eddie poke out his tongue, fold his arms and turn away.

His mind is running a million miles a second. Who was this guy? Why was he so special? It can’t just be Westerns. Was it tough for older gay people to meet? He knew it fucking sucked in high school, not that he was gay, of course, just, you know, it must be tough. He liked girls, definitely. Just could appreciate a handsome dude, that's all. Sure yeah.

He can hear them quietly muttering to one another, and the fold-out bed creaks from movement. He’s stood up. Eddie knows all the noises of that goddamn thing. He had to learn them from sneaking back in late at night.

You know what? He’s got things to do and places to be. He’s gonna break the ice. “I made you a coffee too. I didn’t know how you took it, so it's just straight out the pot.” Eddie says kindly, utilising a bit of the voice he’s been practising for if he ever lands an interview.

“Well, that's very kind of you, Edward. Thank you. That's how I take it anyway,” A not southern voice replies, but there is something familiar about it. Maybe it just sounded local.

“Best call him Eddie. He’ll start actin’ up otherwise. Well, more than usual,” Eddie can hear the smile in his uncle’s voice, and then the pair of them chuckle together. Eddie wrinkles his nose. That laugh was familiar, too. He gets an odd sensation and a twitch in his middle finger.

“Sorry, of course. Eddie is quite right, of course. Early to bed and early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise,” the voice says as the focus of the entire universe warps, pulls and at lightning speed zooms in on him as his brain places the voice.

No. No way. Absolutely not. That would be crazy. It could not be that asshole. It doesn't even make sense why he would be here. Eddie takes a deep breath and decides to stop being insane. His brain is just used to hearing the voice of that dickhead every goddamn day. Lovely day for it, isn’t it, Edward? I can’t wait to see the latest production. I hear you’ve been the driving force behind it. So I know it's going to be an absolute stormer! Nah, Eddie is unlucky, but he’s not that unlucky. Imagine finally leaving school and that happening. He laughs.

“Like that little quote, did you, Edward? It's one of my favourites,” the voice adds, “Sorry, I mean Eddie. I’ll get it eventually, just habit,” Eddie's stomach drops out of his ass, through the floor, plummets right through the centre of the earth, out the other side and gets swept up in the planet's orbit, amongst all the additional space junk.

He turns back towards the living room, and it must be the day that all the gods of every faith have decided to test him because there stands Principal Higgins.

Most of his body goes slack for a second, and his knees feel almost like they might buckle from shock. What the fuck? But soon, a furious tension arrives, and like the bubbling kettle that he is, he blows its top with his own version of a whistle.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING?!” Eddie screeches, “Why are YOU in my home?” his eyes are so wide you can see the whites all the way around his irises, “Where are the rest of your clothes?!” He looks between them but gets no further answers, just another helping of trauma.

“Now, Eddie. Son. I’m gonna need ya to calm down, ‘kay? It's not whatcha think,” Wayne slowly gets up off the couch, his arm outstretched towards him like he’s trying not to startle an already rabid dog, and currently, the way Eddie is almost foaming at the mouth, he’s not entirely wrong in his approach.

“Is that- IS THAT MY NEW METALLICA T-SHIRT? OhmygodOhmygodOhmygodOhmygod OH! MY! GOD!” Eddie raises his hands and grips onto his hair while pacing in the world's smallest circle, hoping this is all a fucking nightmare because it feels like one. It has to be one. The worst one. He can feel his heart racing. Is this how he’s going to die? No, not like this. Please, gods, not like this. He slaps himself hard in the face.

“EDWARD! What in the blue hell?” Wayne yells.

“Oh, you! You don't get to tell me anything!” Eddie gestures vaguely between them, “Whatever arrangement you have!” Eddie's insides recoil at a thought, “This isn’t so I could graduate, is it? You didn’t sell yourself to this tyrant for a scroll, did ya, Uncle Wayne? SAY IT AINT SO!” Eddie rubs his hands down his face, and he can feel the thin layer of sweat forming from pure panic.

“You know, I think Edward is very distressed right now, and I should probably go.” Principal Higgins says as he goes to remove the t-shirt, and Eddie almost full-on convulses with repulsion.

“Jesus H Christ! Keep it on! Keep it. Burn it. Whatever. I do not want that back!” Eddie puts his hand out in a stop motion and turns away from the potential hellscape about to be uncovered.

“Ok, that's enough. George here was just-” Wayne tries to douse the fuse to the time bomb that is Eddie but instead fans the flame, and it starts moving exponentially quicker.

“GE-OR-GE?! GEORGE, IS IT NOW?” Eddie's eyebrows are raised so high they might be two surprises away from leaving his face altogether. Wayne folds his arms and purses his lips like he’s waiting for Eddie to finish.

“Thanks for the ride and for letting me stay, Wayne.” Principal Higgins says, gathering his clothes from a drying rack.

Eddie points at him accusingly with one hand clutching his fluffy robe around himself with the other, stepping towards him with a renewed sense of purpose. “No! No! Uh-Uh. He’s not Wayne to you. He’s Mr. Munson. Not Wayne”

Principal Higgins puts his hands up in front of him, “Alright, Eddie, alright. Mr Munson it is.” Eddie shocked face moves between the two of them like he's watching a tennis match, “Just calm down, ok?” and that makes Wayne close his eyes slowly and shake his head because telling Eddie to calm down only means one thing.

Eddie erupts.

“CALM DOWN?! CALM THE FUCK DOWN?!”

“Language, Eddie,” Wayne mutters lacklustre because he knows it's useless.

“Oh, sorry if my language offended you, sir. Maybe if you get off your moral high horse when you've spent the night with MY PRINCIPAL.”

“Ex-Prinicpal, Eddie. You graduated, remember?” He offers him a small smile, sending Eddie into toddler mode. He’s holding his breath, wrinkles up his nose and clenches his fists until he’s red in the face because he's so mad he can’t get the words out to express it.

So he does something else.

He stretches his hands directly out in front of him, pointing them at Higgins, Wiggling his fingers slowly muttering under his breath.

“Erm, Way-Mr Munson, what is he doing?” Higgins says, a little nervous.

“I’m cursing you, Higgins,” Eddie says in his best demonic Freddie Kruger impersonation, and that puts the fear in him.

“Ignore him. He’s just being dramatic.” Wayne tuts and shakes his head. Eddie raises his chin and widens his eyes, looking down his nose at Higgins and pushes his hands towards him quickly, making Higgins jump back with a yip.

“Are you sure he’s not cursing me?” Higgins says, a little afraid, starting to gather his things much faster.

“You crossed the threshold to my lair, and now you must pay the price, Higgins, with your soul.” The Principal backs away, frantically trying to put his knitted vest over Eddie’s Metallica shirt, and Wayne simply rolls his eyes, sits down and lights up a smoke.

Eddie widens his eyes a few times, muttering some pig Latin, which makes Higgins's face contort in confusion as he backs towards the door. “Thanks again, W-” Higgins starts to say but is cut off but Eddie rolling his eyes back into his head and chanting louder, “I-I-I mean Mr Munson. Thank you. I’ll pay you back for the t-shirt Eddie.” he whimpers quickly, as he reaches behind himself for the handle of the door to reverse out of the trailer half dressed. Not Eddie’s concern as long as he was out of here. That was the main thing.

Eddie sports a broad closed, mouth smile as he turns back to his uncle, making a show of dusting his hands, “No need to thank me for taking out the trash for you, Oldtimer. This time, the pleasure was all mine” he chuckles and heads back to get their coffees.

Strangely there is no echo to his chuckle nor any nod or smile of thanks when he delivers the hot drink—more of a snatch of the mug and avoiding looking at Eddie altogether.

He scrunches his face and walks over to sit at the two-seater table. He knows this feeling. He doesn't like it. He slides into his seat, brushes down his robe, and eyes Wayne weirdly, “Want a fresh cup?” Eddie tries to break the tension. He can’t seriously be mad about Higgins, the Mega-bastard.

“No, Edward. I do not want a fresh cup.”

Oh shit. A sentence of whole words, no contractions, hardly any drawl, and Edward. He knows what this might be, and it's way worse than Wayne being mad at him.

“You know, I thought I might try some of the stores near the arcade today, then maybe a few construction companies or the library…” he lets his voice trail off. Obverses his uncle pointedly, flicking over pages in the car magazine that he is obviously not reading. He doesn't even have his glasses on, “maybe join the circus or start my own cult?”

“That sounds nice for you, Edward. You do that.”

In another dimension where Eddie doesn't have to go job hunting imminently, he’s banging his head against the desk.

“Well, the thing about that is there is a small issue with, uh, the whole doing of things today, and I was hoping-” Eddie gets cut off mid most charming smile and fluttering of eyelashes.

“And you were hoping I’d take ya to pick up the van from Gareth’s because she’s not speakin’ to you either. Can’t say I blame the ol’ girl. You never look after her how you’re ‘sposed to” Ok, well, at least he’s talking like himself again. That's progress, at least. “Always drivin’ the poor thing like she’s a drag racer, never check her levels. Twice I seen her smoking, Eddie,” he continues to mutter a checklist of vehicle crimes Eddie has committed to his precious van, and he dares not interrupt because he really needs his help, “Well, how ‘bout this buddy.” Eddie beams in anticipation, “It's a no.” The surprise of a ‘no’ smacks so hard he might as well have got up and slapped him across the face with a wet salmon.

Uncle Wayne doesn't say no to Eddie, he says maybe, or we’ll see, or maybe in a few years, son.

“But-but you said about getting in with job applications and getting up early, and I did that, and I got the smart clothes that you got me all hung up ready to go. Come on, Wayne, please?” Eddie is all but on his knees, begging. Walking into a shop from the car park dressed like a prep was one thing, but from here to town? He’d be a laughing stock.

“No, Eddie and that's final!” Wayne says, glancing at him and then back down at the magazine.

Eddie closes his eyes slowly and presses his lips together. He knows what he has to do. He doesn't want to, but he also does not want to have to walk or bike to hand these resumes out.

“I’ll find Higgins and apologise straight after, I promise,” he says with absolutely no intention of doing it, but he’d figure out something later.

That gets his full attention. The magazine is closed shut, the mug is on the coaster, his arms folded, his lips pursed, and he’s looking directly at Eddie. And Eddie can see it in his steely eyes. Wayne is plotting.

“Ya know, I get rebelling against authority, and I get the whole hate the principal thing, but I can’t say I’m not disappointed. Didn’t even ask what happened. Just chased him outta here. Ya coulda be chasing him back out to anything.” Wayne says with a huff.

Anger he can stand, but disappointing Wayne is his kryptonite, and his uncle damn well knew it too. Eddie takes the bait.

“Go on then, what happened? What was so bad you had to invite my nemesis to have a sleepover with you?” Eddie waves his hand in front of himself to gesture for Wayne to continue.

“Nothin’ to it, really. Was on my way back from work in the small hours, saw someone walking in the pourin’ rain an–”

“Ok, whoa whoa whoa! You just pulled over in the dark to pick up some stranger at the side of the road in Hawkins? Are you insane?!”

Wayne rolls his eyes and continues, “As I was sayin’, I saw someone walking in the pourin’ rain, and as I passed them, I saw in my mirror it was George,” Eddies face automatically displays disgust at the mention of Higgins’ human being name, “I stopped an’ offered him a ride home. He was all embarrassed said he couldn’t go back there,” he eyes Eddie, “For reasons I’m not about to let his mortal enemy in on. He’d been sleepin’ in his car for a while. Yeah, since before your graduatin’. Anyhoo, his car is a bust. It had been playin’ up since the graduation ceremony and finally gave up the ghost, and he was stuck. I offered to take him to a motel, but he was worried about anyone else findin’ out, so I brought him back ‘ere. Someone forgot to pick up my laundry, so the only clean items around for him to sleep in were fresh goddamn air or a t-shirt I found.”

A cold, harsh realisation hits Eddie at full speed. He’d been the one the tamper with Higgins’ car. Said he had stage nerves, pretended to take a leak and instead fucked around with the car. One final act of revenge.

“Look, man. I didn’t know any of that shit.” Eddie laughs awkwardly, “I was just, you know, caught off guard.”

“Oh,” Wayne says, raising his eyebrows, “So if I’d woken ya up last night after my very long work shift and explained the entire situation to you. You would have what? Willingly give your ex-principal a t-shirt and show them some sympathy? Is that what you are saying right now?” Wayne stares him directly in the eyes and simply waits. He’s waiting for Eddie to lie or to be proven right.

“I don't like the guy, ok? There isn’t any law against disliking people,” Eddie says hurriedly, suddenly needing to wrap himself tighter in his fluffy robe as Wayne slowly looks down into his cup with a nod, and Eddie can feel it brewing.

“Thing is, Eddie. Ya didn’ even ask. Ya saw a guy lying on a bed he didn’t choose, in clothing, he wouldn’t have picked out in a montha Sunday’s, embarrassed, an’ scared, and ya drove him outta the house.” Eddie sheepishly raises his eyes to Waynes from under his hair, “Ya kicked a guy when he was down and out, Eddie. That ain’t right.” Wayne says sadly and shakes his head a little, averts his eyes.

Eddie’s insides squirm uncomfortably, and he tries to get back on the right side of Wayne, trying to get him to see if it had been anyone else, Eddie would not have done that, “But he’s not just some guy, Wayne. It was Principal Higgins. Come on, don't be mad. Once I’m done with these resumes, I’ll go apologise, yeah?” Eddie nearly gags on his own words, a small price to pay to avoid the words that would absolutely crush him

Wayne gets up, puts his mug in the sink, and mutters, “I ain’t mad, Son, just disappointed, is all.”

FUUUUUUUUCK!

Eddie's heart crumples in on itself. That's it. He’d finally done it.

After years of fucking up, everything from breaking a mug to being brought home by Hopper, who broke the news to Wayne that whilst he didn't strictly mind that Eddie was dealing on a small scale, he should be fucking quieter about it. Then the general weird appearance that makes most of the town stare or spread idle gossip, getting less than impressive grades at school, getting into fights, losing his temper with Wayne regularly all the way through puberty and getting high or drunk way too often with his friends. The recovery of which would lead to letting Wayne down with something he should have been doing instead.

After all of that, Wayne always looked a little disappointed but never outright said it, always found a way around it, but this. This was a step too far, and the words echo in his dumbass empty head.

“I ain’t mad, Son, just disappointed, is all.”

Eddie winces at those words as they stab into him repeatedly, dagger-like.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie tries, and it's a real one, the lump in his throat trying to choke him out and the sting at the corners of his eyes, but he knows it's not gonna fly this time. He’d really let him down. Even at his age, the unknown of what would happen next makes his pulse race.

Wayne nods and collects his hat and keys. He walks over, but his eyes do not meet Eddie’s as he puts on his cap and places the keys in front of Eddie on the table, “You ain’t gotta be apologizin’ to me. Take the truck. ‘M going for a walk.”

And with that, he’s gone. Eddie watches him walk away through the window, suddenly feeling small and engulfed by the robe that he pulls tightly around himself. He slumps off to the bathroom to finish getting ready for the day.

Twenty minutes later, Eddie finds himself in a situation he never thought possible, dressed in a button-down and un-tarnished jeans, his hair tied back in a low ponytail, driving around the trailer park and surrounding roads looking for Principal Higgins, or should he say, George Higgins. He isn’t his principal any more, thank Christ. You know what? No. It can be just Higgins. There. Good! Fucking Higgins! Jesus Christ, on a bike.

Not far from the entrance to the trailer park, he spots the tour dates on the back of the t-shirt, teamed with tan slacks and a chequered jacket slung over his arm in a hunched plod back to town.

Eddie drives a little ahead and pulls over, watches in the rearview mirror how the guy’s face lights up and his pace quickens towards the car. Man, was he in for a surprise.

“Wayne! Thank God. I didn’t know what I was gonna–” he starts saying as he sits in the passenger seat and on Eddie’s resumés. He swallows that one down and reminds himself this is for Wayne, “Oh. Uh. Eddie. Do you want me to get back out? Did you stop for someone else?” He struggles as he raises himself out of the seat again to hold the stack of papers he’d say on.

OF COURSE, THATS WHAT I WANT, Eddie thinks to himself, but buries it, grips the wheel white-knuckle tight, forces a small pinched smile and through gritted teeth manages, “No, of course not. I thought I’d see if I could help with your car. Wayne said it cut out on you?”

“Y-Yeah, that's right, b-but it's fine. If you drop me in town, I can speak to a mechanic there,” Eddie watches him pat for his wallet and scrambles to another pocket. He knows this dance, had to do the moves many times himself.

“You could do that, sure, or…” Eddie starts and trails off because two halves of his brain are having a slappy hands fight with one another.

“Or?” Higgins asks, and he sounds genuinely confused by what the other option could possibly be, but Eddie detects that slight waver of hope in his voice. It makes him roll his eyes, and the side of his brain that is only concerned with getting on the right side of Wayne again sends the one concerned with being cool and tightly held grudges built on dry sand, reeling into next week with an almighty whack.

He takes a deep breath and tries but fails to relax his shoulders, “Or I can take a look for free. I help out with a lot of cars in the trailer park.”

He’s met with silence.

He waits a little longer, and there is still no response, and out of sheer concern that Wayne was gonna be extra pissed if he had literally killed Higgins with kindness, he turns to look at him.

Immediate deep regret!

The guy's bottom lip is wobbling. How did this guy run that fucking hell hole? He’s a jello of a person. Eddie looks back at the road to direct his flicker of a sneer somewhere.

“It’s not a big deal. Whereabouts is it?” Eddie tries to steer the conversation to something easy for him to digest.

Higgins clears his throat and blubbers, “Er, just one first side road into the forest after the school.” Eddie can’t bring himself to ask for anything more specific in case he gets emotional, and he would have to comfort him. The thought almost makes Eddie heave. He’ll stop this car and run to town himself before he does that. No way! He tries to think of something else.

“You friends with my uncle then?” Eddie tries, and he almost snaps his head around when the reply is immediate.

“Oh yes! Way- I mean, Mr Munson is a fantastic pal.” Higgins enthuses and then quickly corrects himself. There is another clearing of his throat.

This is what Luke Skywalker felt when he found out who his father was. Fantastic pal? Pal? What the fuck?

But Eddie beings to experience something worse than realisation. He’s curious.

“I didn’t even know you were friends,” Eddie says, a little weirded out.

“Oh,” Higgins says disappointedly, “He hasn’t mentioned me to you?” Eddie’s fingers tighten around the wheel again. What the hell was happening right now? Eddie chooses to ignore how much that sounds like someone realising their love is unrequited. No. No, this is not what he thinks is happening. He remembers now. Of course, he means the school stuff.

“Well yeah, of course, he’s mentioned you when you’ve called about me,” Eddie laughs and shakes his head, “You know all those meetings with the three of us, and sometimes an extra teacher, to bring forth the ‘evidence’” Eddie makes air quotes whilst still holding onto the wheel with the remaining fingers.

Then there is a small laugh from Higgins, “He never did listen to any of it though, did he? Always team Eddie,” And the fondness dripping off those words almost makes Eddie want to slam on the breaks and vomit somewhere, not just out of repulsion but also because he’s just been reminded of all those times Wayne’s backed him against all odds, against all comers. It must be that that makes the words fall out of his mouth.

“Until today,” Eddie grumbles.

“What because of what happened in the trailer?” Higgins asks dumbly but with concern. The fucking dick!

“Yes! What happened in the fucking trailer!” Eddie all but hisses back, sighs, and tries again, “Sorry about that. Yes, how I overreacted in the trailer didn’t impress him as you can imagine.”

“Well, it must have been a hell of a shock for you, honestly!”

Eddie nods and smiles. Then his eyes shoot open wide, realising that he’s agreeing with his mortal enemy!

“Shit,” Higgins laughs, “If I had woke up in my house at your age and my Principal was asleep in my living room. I’d have questions too!”

Oh! Now he’s cussing and relating like they’re fucking buddies or something. A whole body shudder ripples through Eddie. He tries to get to the controls of this conversation again.

“So, what were you expecting him to mention?” Eddie asks. Even though he might live to regret it, the claws of curiosity are gouging into him.

“Oh, it’s stupid, honestly. He's a busy guy, and he probably was more interested in what you had to say. He’s always recounting your funny stories and jokes. He always says he doesn't do them justice because he says you tell them best.” Higgins says like it's nothing, but Eddie is so glad this section of the road is creating extra noise. Otherwise, he would have heard the gasp that just left Eddie as his heart squeezed.

Of course, his uncle wouldn't mention anything to Eddie, that was not to do with Eddie because everything was always about Eddie. He knew Wayne always had his back, no matter what, but to hear that he openly talks fondly about him to other people is almost enough to turn Eddie into a blubbering mess himself. “You guys, old friends or somethin’?” Eddie tries to say something quickly so Higgins can prattle on whilst Eddie composes himself.

“Ah,” curiously Higgins stops, “not really. I mean, not from school or anything, if that's what you mean?”

Eddie gets another sinking feeling that the reason they have bonded was also his own doing, “Well, you don't work at the same place. It’s rare Wayne goes out, and I was in those meetings too, so, uh, forgive me, but I fail to see how you’ve managed to befriend my Uncle. What do you have secret phone hangouts or something?”

He glances over at Higgins, who seems to be shifting in his seat, “Uh, well, we have a kind of brunch sometimes at the diner,” he says quietly.

“It's either brunch or it's not, Higgins,” Eddie laughs.

“My lunchtime but your uncle’s breakfast time, Happened accidentally at first. Then your uncle is such an empath. I guess he just did it out of kindness, really, maybe pity.”

Oh, sweet satan. This guy used the word empath unironically. Though this is a standard Wayne move, always the good Samaritan, even if it bites him in the ass later, “Don’t you have lunch with the rest of your henchmen at school?”

That makes Higgins scoff out a laugh, “I understand why you’d think that Eddie, but, uh, it’s not like that. They don’t like me as much as you think they do.”

Eddie swirls that around his brain for a while, thinking about how often he’d been sent to Higgins’ office. How many times did Higgins do anything other than make Eddie sit in his office with him while he did other things, and Eddie finished up some work or doodled?

“I like a good story. How did your first brunch happen?” Eddie asks quickly, eager to avoid further dismantling his personal Munson doctrine.

“Not that exciting, really,” but Eddie can hear the smile in his tone, “Diner was busy. Your uncle’s usual booth was occupied by some noisy sports team passing through. You know, the smaller booth that overlooks the bit of the car park with more greenery in the distance? So he sat at the corner of the counter near me. And we sorta knew one another, and we just got talking.” There it is again that softening in his words. A quick glance over, and he’s sure there is a blush on his cheeks.

Was this why it upset his Uncle so much? He remembers their mutual chuckle from this morning. Though he wishes Wayne would have befriended any other sadsack fuck in this town, he knows how particular his Uncle is about getting close to people, so Eddie does a quick check.

“And then what? You just bumped into one another and talked about…well, what did you talk about? Other than my good self, of course,” Eddie asks more gently.

“Yeah, guess there was a coincidental element to it, but then, at least on my part, it became a little more purposeful,” he drifts off a little and then quickly stutters back into action, “It-it’s not every day I get the chance to talk to someone who I have so many common interests with, you know?

Eddie can feel him looking at him intermittently. It reminds him of when John, one of the original members of Hellfire, was persuading Eddie to let Jenna join. He didn’t have an issue because she was a girl, just she was one of the science kids. She turned out to be a great player and also John’s girlfriend.

Eddie’s suspicion meter is close to all the springs exploding out of it like a cartoon, and suddenly there is a new emotion leaping off the bench to join the team. Protectiveness.

“Common interests like what?” Eddie frowns a little.

“Uh, music, like rock n roll, but also some of that folk element, country and soul. Westerns, Hammer Horror,” he chuckles. Eddie feels himself want to look round at him, to see if he could telepathically find out what inside joke they had about dated scary movies, “Sports, human rights and well,” there is a pause, “you, of course, but purely from an academic side of things from me,” and though he doesn’t want to be, he is impressed by his apparent honesty.

“And how long have these brunches, or whatever the fuck, been happening?” Eddie asks.

“A little over a year now. Probably could have been longer, but I guess we never had a reason to sit together before,” Higgins shrugs, “Just nod hello or sometimes he’d check in about how you were doing.”

Wow, so now he’s two for two bringing this pair together through his own idiocy.

“Uh, you know, Eddie, while I have this chance, I just wanted to let you know, regardless of what some of your teachers may have said to you. I always thought you were a very bright and creative kid. Just maybe the way a school is structured didn’t give you the right space to flourish,” Ok, so now this confirms it. He was totally trying to kiss Eddie’s ass here. Actually, it was more likely, at this point, it was Wayne’s ass he might be after.

Eddie grimaces at his intrusive thoughts. They threw him for a loop sometimes, and that one was several inversions leaving him feeling grossed out and nauseous.

“Look, man, you don’t have to say all that crap, I’m not gonna curse you, and I was going to look at your car anyway,” Eddie says to try and make him back off a little.

“Oh, so Wayne was right. You don’t go for all that spooky stuff, then?” Higgins asks happily.

“Now, now Higgy Wiggy, I didn’t say that. I just said I’m not gonna curse you this time.” Eddie says semi-seriously, and silence falls in the vehicle again, making Eddie look over at the gulping guy in a Metallica tee, “I’m just kidding, Higgins, geez!” Eddie laughs as the deserted car comes into view.

Within minutes Eddie is rolling up his sleeves and popping the hood to undo the damage he’d done previously. Meanwhile, Higgins was shuffling around in the back seat.

One particular shuffle almost sends the open hood smearing muck onto Eddie’s freshly washed hair, and that makes him say something. He storms around the side of the car, “Hey man! Could you take it easy whilst I’m under there? I’m pretty fond of my head. It completes my whole look, you know?” He yells sarcastically.

As he rounds the vehicle to stare daggers at Higgins, the sight that befalls his eyes is something more worrying. The guy was halfway through donning a crumpled suit and filling a trash bag with wrappers and cans.

Higgins can’t meet his eyes, “Sorry, Eddie. I was just eager to get into my own clothes and, well, didn’t want you to see all this,” he half smiles awkwardly, “too late for that now, huh?”

And amongst the general chaos of the backseat, he notices a few things. His Uncle’s copy of The Hobbit, a few blankets that were crocheted by the old lady that lives in the trailer park, but they have so many they end up in a cupboard, and a T-shirt from the Indi 500 the year he and Wayne had gone to it, “You like racing?” Eddie asks, gesturing at it.

Higgins responds with a melancholy, forced smile and water-brimmed eyes, shaking his head in a no.

“Just like the T-shirt, huh? He’s got some cool ones, thanks to me,” Eddie jokes, and it earns him a little laugh as Higgins wipes his eyes on his jacket sleeves. Eddie returns to an issue he feels more comfortable dealing with, leaving Higgins to sort out what he needs to.

A little while later, Eddie returns to a much cleaner car and a much more Principal looking Higgins. As he hands him the keys, “Try starting her up for me, yeah?”

Higgins nods with a smile and does as asked, and life breathes back into the engine, “Oh, Eddie! This is wonderful, thank you!”

“Least I could do,” Eddie sighs, cleaning his hands on a rag from his Uncle’s tool kit before loading it back in the truck.

He stands there momentarily, looking at his strange reflection in the paint, and ponders. Eddie and wherever he’s lived previously had the Munson name associated with things more shaped like his dad’s opportunistic and, let’s face it, criminal ways, but what if he could amplify the other side of that name? The one that protects and fixes. The one that helps others in need and shows kindness even when it may not be deserved.

He turns back.

“You know, I feel like I’ve got some bridges to mend, so after I’ve dropped these around town, I was thinking I might pick up some wings and make Wayne his favourite kind,” Eddie announces as he paces around the car. Higgins looks up at him, “I get a little carried away sometimes, and we usually have to live off them for a few extra meals to get my money’s worth,” Eddie’s nose twitches a little before he says the improbable, “I could swing back round this way, and pick you up, so you could save me from chicken wings for breakfast?” He pauses, but Higgins is just staring at him, “Don’t get me wrong, they’re delicious, even if I do say so myself, but that kinda heat first thing in the morning, we’ll that’s an interesting way to start the day,” he grins and kicks at the ground.

“Y-yeah, I’d really like-“ Higgins starts, but Eddie gives him a quick glare, “I mean, I think I could help you with that, sure,” Eddie sends him back a nod.

“Cool. See you in an hour or so.” Eddie says finally before hopping back into Wayne’s truck.

A few hours later, Eddie finds himself in clothing mostly more suited to himself, other than his Hot Stuff Garfield Apron. He had two plates piled high with wings around a small bowl at the centre with a sauce of his creation, one spicy, one blue cheese, plus a pot of mac n cheese from a box.

He lines the plates up and looks over at the two of them watching the game on the TV, occasionally squabbling over who was at fault on which team for things not going in their favour, occasionally laughing loudly at the other when their prediction was correct or a commentator agreed with them.

Eddie can’t remember a time in the last few years he’s seen Wayne this animated. His eyes are sparkling even, and a secret smile graces his face even when he’s proved wrong, and trying to look annoyed about it.

“Grubs up, jocks!” Eddie yells over with a laugh. The two of them scramble to see who can get there first. They both look over the food and then up at Eddie.

“Wow, Eddie, this is quite the buffet!” Higgins says enthusiastically, as Wayne and Eddie exchange a comical look at the word buffet.

“Yeah, it looks great, buddy. Thanks,” Wayne says with a big smile, and he blinks softly at Eddie, “Ya done me real proud today, son.” His voice is gruff as always, but that gentle fondness is back, and Eddie grips tightly to the countertop and presses his lips together not to get emotional about it.

A moan of delight comically breaks their shared stare. Higgins has taken a bite from a chicken wing doused in the blue cheese sauce.

“Told ya,” Wayne says as he puffs out his chest, “Best chef in town, right here in my own home!” He beams over at Eddie and back to Higgins.

“It’s not that I didn't believe you!” Higgins protests, “But I’m thrilled I got to sample the proof,” he smiles at Eddie before reaching for another and freezes. This time an unmistakable blush hits his cheeks, “Sorry, I just got carried away.” He says meekly.

Eddie turns to the plate of food to see the issue, Wayne has reached for the very same wing, and his fingers are draped lightly over Higgins’. Eddie traces the arm up to Wayne’s face. It’s hard to make out if he’s blushing on his face just from stubble and the ageing of his skin, but the top of his ears give him away.

Wayne is staring at Higgins, completely frozen too, until he gradually turns his gaze to meet Eddie’s. The sparkle of mischief and laughter is gone. In its place is fear. His eyes dart away momentarily, and he almost seems to force himself to look back at Eddie, who gives him a weak but encouraging smile.

Then Wayne does something incredibly brave, he wraps his fingers around Higgins’ hand, making a small gasp escape from his old Principal, and waits.

Eddie looks between them both.

“I fucking knew it!” He yells and laughs.

Wayne smiles, and Higgins looks bewildered, “What, you’re just ok with this?”

“With people being gay? Yeah!” Eddie makes a face like he just asked him if the sky was blue, “About this situation in particular?” He gestures a finger between the two of them and folds his arms, “Absolutely not!”

Higgins looks deflated, but Wayne still has a smirk on his face.

“But you know, I suppose,” he rolls his eyes to the ceiling and shakes his head, “It deserves a chance, right?”

Higgins' face lights up, and he throws his arms around Wayne.

“Hey! Hey! Hey!” Eddie claps his hands together, “Do not make me load up the spray bottle, ok? Your orientation I’m indifferent to, but no fucking on my stuff and nothing tonsil hockey or worse whilst I can hear or see you, understood?” Eddie says, flicking the kitchen towel over his shoulder and looking at them both in turn.

They both nod at him quietly, Higgins crimson-faced and serious, Wayne with a smile he’s trying to repress and a twinkle in his eyes, possibly caused by the tears that almost welled up in them.

“Tomorrow, I’m gonna help you find a place, and until we have that squared away,” Eddie says, leaning over the counter and looking at Higgins seriously before turning to look at Wayne, “Let me know if you’re having a fucking sleepover!”

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