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Steve had a secret, one that had generally been well kept from practically everyone, besides Robin of course. He couldn’t explain it, but sometimes he just stopped being able to talk. It didn’t happen all the time anymore, not like when he was younger, but it still made him struggle. He could play it off most of the time, he was quiet enough anyway. A few hand gestures, a nod or a shake of the head, a quick glance towards Robin to signal he needed help. He could manage.
Except, well, right now.
He was at Eddie’s place and despite dating for six months, Steve had never bothered to mention his little problem. Not that Eddie had never been around for an episode, no, he had been around for a few now that Steve could think of. They were short, though, and non-consequential. Now Steve was in the midst of another episode and stuck making spaghetti in Eddie’s kitchen while listening as his boyfriend told him stories from his childhood.
“And then we picked up Gareth,” Eddie tied his hair back into a messy bun on the top of his head, “and threw him into the lake. He was so mad, he chased us all the way back to the trailer park. I swear he would’ve killed us if he caught us.”
Steve grabbed a big bowl and filled it with water and ice. It took him a lot of effort, but he managed to get a word out, “Boiling?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah, she’s boiling.” Eddie confirmed as he moved the pot handle out of the way.
Steve took each of the tomatoes and cut a little x in the bottom. He put a couple in the boiling water at a time, waited for about ten seconds, and then got them out and put them in the ice water. Eddie watched the process over his shoulder, his presence soothing in the small space.
“Where’d you learn how to do that?” Eddie asked, referring to the way Steve took the iced tomatoes and easily peeled away the skin.
The answer was stuck in the back of Steve’s throat. He wanted to tell Eddie, to share stories of his own, but it was like his mouth was glued shut. The air between them was filled with the quiet melodies of Pink Floyd playing on the radio. Eddie soon moved next to Steve and started helping him peel and cut the tomatoes.
The silence from Eddie made Steve nervous, made him wonder what was going on inside his head. His mind flooded with the worst case scenarios, of course. Anger. An interpretation of disrespect. Deep down Steve knew that Eddie probably wouldn’t get mad, but on the surface he felt his worries bubbling. It wouldn’t be the first time he got in trouble over his silence, it probably wouldn’t be the last either.
“Are you okay?” Eddie asked quietly, bumping their shoulders together as he did.
Steve just shrugged. He wasn’t okay, he knew there was something wrong with him. Normal people didn’t go silent like he did, he had known that for a long time, but there was nothing he could do when his jaw was wired so tight.
Eddie dropped his voice further, “Do you wanna talk about it?”
Steve shook his head.
“Are you…” Eddie hesitated, “mad at me?”
Steve shook his head again.
Eddie breathed out a heavy sigh of relief, but he was still concerned, “Do you need space?”
Steve pressed into Eddie’s side and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek as a sign for him to stay.
Eddie let out a small snort and kissed Steve on the cheek as soon as he turned away, “Alright.”
Eddie turned up the volume on the radio and together they cut the tomatoes, garlic, and onions, and put them all in a pot on the stove. Steve raided the spice rack for anything that sounded good and chucked it in. When he turned around, he was met with Eddie holding a bottle of apple cider vinegar with a small smirk. After a moment of consideration, Steve nodded and stepped aside so Eddie could add it in. It was never something Steve had done himself, but hopefully it would turn out alright.
Cooking was one of Steve’s favorite pastimes, it allowed him to get creative in a way that was usually reserved for people born with an artistic bone in their body. Being left home alone a lot, he found himself going through old recipe books and buying new ones with his allowance money, so by now he had a decent idea of what worked and what didn’t. Cooking with people was one of his favorite things to do, even if it usually led to him taking the reins and the other person being his designated helper.
Eddie browned and added the meat to the pot and they left it to simmer. Once they cleaned up their mess, Eddie wrapped his arms around Steve and leaned against the counter. Pink Floyd had long faded away and was replaced with Fleetwood Mac. Steve loved this song. It brought him back to a long forgotten memory, one only marked by the urge to cry.
Eddie swayed Steve back and forth gently and sang quietly by his ear, “When the rain washes you clean, you’ll know. You’ll know.”
Steve’s eyes closed as he listened to the sweet sound of Eddie’s voice and focused on the gentle rumble of his chest. Steve found comfort in Eddie. Steve’s house was cold and empty in places where Eddie’s was full. The Munsons filled their home with memories and warmth. Every mug, every odd stain, every dent held a story. It wasn’t clutter, as Steve had first interpreted, it was like a strange museum of every moment that had led Eddie to where he was now.
There wasn’t pressure on him when he was here. With Eddie, Steve could be himself. It was stupid to be worried about what Eddie thought about his silence, stupid to think he’d ever be angry at Steve for something he couldn’t control. The worry Eddie showed was more than enough proof.
They stayed there for a long time, allowing songs and the occasional voice of Jimmy “Fast Hands” Lee to shuffle in and out of their atmosphere. Eventually, though, Steve pulled away to put the noodles on the stove. This was supposed to be dinner, after all.
Eddie stayed in his spot on the counter and watched as Steve moved around. When it was time to pull the noodles off the stove, Eddie was there to help drain the water and put it into a couple bowls. Another thing Steve liked about the Munsons is that they didn’t have too many fancy forks or plates you couldn’t use on a normal day. They used what they had, whether it was nice or just a repurposed Cool Whip container.
They sat down to eat at the little table pressed against the wall. When he first met Eddie there were only two chairs, but just a few months ago a third chair “mysteriously” appeared at the table. They didn’t talk about it, they both knew it came from Eddie’s uncle. Wayne didn’t talk much, but one thing he made sure to make clear was that Steve was welcome in their home.
Eddie groaned after taking a bite, “Holy shit, this is so good.”
Steve smiled and took a bite and yeah, it was good. The apple cider vinegar added a tangy kick that complimented the sauce surprisingly well. Steve’s heart swelled with pride. Just a few months ago, Eddie was cooking meat in such a bizarre way that made it taste and feel like rubber. Now look at him, he was cooking good meat and breathing new life into the sauce that Steve had down to a science!
With their bellies full, they washed the dishes together and put away the extra spaghetti for Wayne. Steve took Eddie’s hand and pulled him towards the bedroom. Eddie’s mouth quirked into a stupid grin that made his dimples pop out. Steve laid down on the messy bed and pulled Eddie on top of him. They shared a kiss, but Steve cast away any dirty thoughts Eddie might’ve had by wrapping his arms around him.
“Just wanna stay like this?” Eddie double checked.
“Yeah.” Steve mumbled quietly.
They had their differences, anyone could see that plan as day, but there was something Steve and Eddie both shared a love of. Physical touch. It was like a drug, something simple that eased every nerve in Steve’s body. He needed this. He needed the pressure of Eddie’s full body weight laying on top of him like a blanket. Steve did the same for Eddie when he needed it.
Eddie grabbed a pillow and stuck it next to Steve’s head so he could rest comfortably, “You feeling better?”
“A little.” He nodded, “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“Going quiet…” He was still struggling to find the right words, “It just happens sometimes.”
“That’s okay. You scared me for a minute there.” Eddie’s breath tickled Steve’s cheek, “Is there anything I can do to, like… y’know, help or anything?”
Steve thought for a minute before shaking his head, “Not really. Just give me time.”
“What does it feel like?” Eddie’s eyes glistened with curiosity.
“Like someone glued my tongue to the roof of my mouth.”
Steve’s throat felt raw with emotion. Eddie was the first person besides Robin who he had told directly about his problem.
“Does anything set it off?”
“No…” Steve gave it a second thought before sighing, “No. It’s just really frustrating.”
Eddie pressed his forehead against Steve’s brow, “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
“I don’t know.” He hesitated, “I guess I was afraid of what you’d say.”
“Steve, I love you.” The way Eddie said it made Steve’s stomach do a flip, “I don’t care if you have trouble talking, okay? I don’t care about anything like that, I just want to make sure you’re okay. I can talk more than enough for the both of us, okay?”
Steve chuckled, “Okay.”
He pressed a tender kiss against Eddie’s lips.
“I love you too.”