#oh the complicated relationship between a gruff old man and his pet

[unclewaynemunson]

Eddie has this habit of feeding the stray cats around the trailer. Sometimes, he’ll even give the occasional raccoon something to snack on. He’s done it ever since he moved in with Wayne, spending hours crouched down on the ground with a pile of tuna cans beside him and an ever-growing flock of cats around him.

‘Just don’t let ‘em come inside,’ was all Wayne would say about it, keeping his distance from the whole circus around Eddie’s legs.

And Eddie sticks to that rule. He tests Wayne’s limits by letting the animals come up onto the porch or feeding them scraps through the kitchen window, but he never lets them set foot inside the trailer, respecting the very last bit that’s left of Wayne’s personal space.

Until he doesn’t, of course.

Wayne comes home one day to find Eddie stretched out on his back on the wobbly old couch with the tiniest black-and-white kitten curled up on his chest.

‘Ed, you know the rule,’ Wayne reminds him without so much as a greeting, annoyance dripping from his voice. ‘Can’t afford shots and cat food. Not enough space. And I don’t wanna find cat hair everywhere.’

‘But look at him, Wayne!’ says Eddie, almost begging - and if the baby cat does nothing to melt his cold heart, his nephew’s wide eyes most certainly do.

‘He won’t survive out there by himself,’ Eddie whines. ‘I found him hidden under the trailer because the other cats kept attacking him! And I promise you he isn’t mean; he didn’t bite me even when I picked him up! I’ll pay for everything and keep him in my room, you won’t even notice he’s here!’

Wayne wants to argue, he really does, but honestly, what argument can be made against those eyes? It’s goddamn unfair is what it is.

‘You sure that’s what you wanna be usin’ your hard-earned drug money for?’ Wayne grumbles. He’s never felt like he had the authority to reprimand Eddie about his sources of income, nor does he have the energy to lecture him about it, but he’s definitely amused by the extremely non-badass way the boy decides to spend his shady money.

Eddie grins, looking like the textbook definition of innocence with that tiny kitten on his chest and the dimples in his cheek, his black clothes and tattoos not doing anything in the slightest to counter that - not in Wayne’s eyes, at least.

‘Yeah, what else would I be using it for?’ he says, completely serious, and Wayne can see so clearly how well Eddie knows he’s got his uncle wrapped around his finger. There’s still nothing he can do to stop it, but maybe that’s not so bad. He doesn’t really mind being wrapped around Eddie’s finger, anyway.

So Wayne only huffs, knowing there’s no stopping Eddie and resigning himself to the fact that he apparently has a new roommate now - no matter what Eddie promised, there’s no way he’ll keep that little monster confined to his own bedroom.

---

And so it happens that Shadowfax becomes the third member of the Munson household. Or at least, that’s his official name, the one Eddie uses. Wayne prefers calling him “the little monster,” which is a way more accurate name if you ask him - which, needless to say, nobody does.

Eddie spoils the little monster rotten, with the consequence that Wayne has to share his food with him whenever Eddie’s out and that he’s always crying for attention when Eddie isn’t present to give it to him. That’s how Wayne ends up, not even three weeks in, with the little monster nestled in his lap as he’s watching tv. No, it has nothing to do with the fact that his purring has a relaxing rhythm, or with the softness of his fur, or the warmth of his tiny body... And certainly not with the disarming effect of a stubborn little stray cat seeking his company, feeling comfortable enough around him to let himself fall asleep in his lap. No, that doesn’t remind him in the slightest of that one evening about two months after he had taken Eddie in and Eddie fell asleep on the couch with his head against Wayne’s shoulder. Not at all. He’s just too lazy to put the little monster away when he dares to invade his personal space.

And when Eddie comes home that night to find not one, but two Munsons snoring in Wayne’s armchair, both jolting awake when Eddie softly closes the door behind him and looking at him with tired eyes, it’s not at all obvious that both of them were waiting equally eagerly for their Eddie to get home.