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The Revenge was not a seedy nightclub, not even remotely. It was surrounded by other seedy nightclubs, but the brushed black façade was elegant and stylish and invited people inside with barely the smallest hint of a warm glow behind the leaded window panes.
It would be quite unassuming, a black painted bar in the side of town that invited nightlife - if it weren't for the vivid splashes of colour that criss-crossed the front and proclaimed The Revenge to be one of the premier LGBT bars in the city.
The progress pride flag was hung front and centre, fluttering in the wind. Posters in all manner of colours and fonts decorated the antique windows, dizzying and electrifying with their eclectic nature. Lights pulsed gently beneath the guttering, scrolling through the colours of the rainbow and casting bright tones on the worn concrete of the street.
Stede Bonnet sat behind the bar, yawning. It had been a long week, the Pride celebrations had been well underway over the weekend and it was some of the busiest nights of the year for The Revenge . Their drag show, playfully called 'Fuckery', had gone on well into the early hours, and it had been just before 4am that the doors had closed behind the last customer. Stede was shattered, and despite showering he was still covered in stray glitter that sparkled beneath the cosy lighting.
His crew were still hungover, and Stede had given them the day to lick their alcohol induced wounds. The days after Pride tended to be quiet until the evenings, most patrons having partied a little too hard the nights before. Stede was not one of them. He barely even drank, and he liked having a clear head for Pride weekend - it stopped him from making poor decisions. Not that any decisions in his life had been particularly good, if he was being honest.
Pictures adorned the wall behind the bar, splashes of colour and snapshots of moments rendered in glossy prints and canvases. There was one of Stede at his first Pride; eight months after his father had died and left him the bar, and three months after he'd converted it to a gay bar purely to piss his dead dad off, even changing the name to the very on-the-nose “ The Revenge ”. It had morphed into more than that, though. Once The Revenge started getting a footing, Stede found himself feeling more and more at home and comfortable with his patrons. He had attended his first Pride as an ally, his bar having a small space in the parade. Each year after that, the crew had grown and so had their presence. Stede always went, draped in the rainbow flag with 'ALLY' scrawled across the back in thick black pen. If it had been anyone else, it would have been uncomfortable. But Stede loved his bar and his crew, and they loved him in return.
But today, he was knuckling his forehead and staring at the glossy surface of the bar like it held the secrets of the universe. Memories kept flashing behind his eyes, making him wince at the intensity. It had been a week since Pride, and Stede was only just really processing what had happened.
Stede had met Edward almost two years after the bar had reopened as a gay bar. His crew had expanded to include a wonderfully diverse mix of people and they had suggested running “information nights” for people in the community in need. Obviously, Stede had jumped at the chance. They started with small mixers to encourage people to come and get used to the venue, then shifted into seminars on how to stay safe when dating, places to get contraceptives and PrEP and so much more. Clinics started to book out the venue one evening a month and The Revenge gradually became a bubbling hub of safety and security.
That was when Edward had walked through those sleek black doors, head to toe in black leather and looking for all the world like a pirate of old. He’d introduced himself to Stede, sliding onto a barstool with easy grace.
“The name’s Edward Teach.” He’d held a gloved hand out and Stede had shook it, bemusedly.
“Stede Bonnet.” Edward, as it turned out, had a crew of his own. The people who had been booking The Revenge had been his people, and after months of ongoing back and forth, Edward had finally decided to:
“See what all the fuss was about, mate.” He leaned back, his black t-shirt riding up to reveal the soft purple undershirt tucked into his leather trousers. “My crew haven’t stopped banging on about this place. And the cute owner, of course.” It was said with such easy flippancy that Stede didn’t even notice that his heart seemed to have stopped. Was this man hitting on him ?
“I–.” Flustered, he raked a hand through golden hair. “I’m um… An ally, actually. Sorry. I think?”
“You think you’re an ally or you think you’re sorry?” Ed’s eyebrow quirked upwards and Stede almost choked on air.
“Sorry. I don’t know if I should be, it just felt like something I should say.” He shrugged awkwardly, forcing himself to relax a little and grabbing a glass from below the bar to make himself a drink with. Water, of course - he was on the clock. Edward had stared at him with eyes that made him feel transparent, that he could see all the way through him and to the racks of alcohol behind.
“Cool your jets, mate.” Edward leaned back in his chair, wincing and stretching his knee out a little in front of him. It was only then that Stede noticed the sleek brace against the leather of his trousers. He frowned, not wanting to intrude. “I’m just messing.”
“Can I get you a drink?” Sufficiently recovered from being rattled, Stede squared his shoulders and looked expectantly at the man in front of him.
“Sure.” Edward tilted his wrist to check the watch that had appeared invisible beneath the sleeve of his leather jacket. “It’s five o’clock somewhere, right?”
“It’s actually five o’clock here. Five sixteen, to be precise.” Stede responded idly, not even realising he was doing it. He felt the other man’s gaze slide over him, trying to take the measure of him and clearly failing to do so.
“Course it is.” Edward shifted his weight on the stool, lifting his leg awkwardly. Stede silently indicated the vacant stool next to him, waving a hand at the protests that threatened on Edward’s lips.
“Please, go ahead.” He realised Edward hadn’t told him what he wanted, but his hands had already made a double rum on the rocks without his permission. It was the whole pirate aesthetic, he decided. Rum and pirates went together like… well, rum and pirates. He purposefully averted his gaze as Edward got comfortable on the stool, knee raised and stretched out on the neighbouring seat. “Here.” Stede pushed the glass towards Edward, grinning despite himself when Edward’s look of confusion turned into one of joy. He knew drinks. He knew people. Putting the two together wasn’t that difficult.
“How?” Edward was staring at him with those intense eyes again, and for a moment Stede felt himself become untethered, like he was floating a few inches from the floor. It was the most bizarre feeling in the world, but he found that he didn’t mind.
“I know people.” Stede shrugged, leaning backwards against the shelves. The previous awkwardness had vanished now, an easy ebb and flow building in their conversation.
Edward had stayed there until closing, chatting to Stede between rushes of patrons and nursing two drinks all night.
And so it had gone. Edward - Ed - arrived most nights just before the rush and propped up the bar for hours, catching Stede in conversation and planning events with him between customers. Days trickled into weeks and snowballed into months - until it had been six months since Ed had walked in the door and changed the trajectory of Stede’s evenings in a moment. They had been discussing the upcoming weekend and Pride parade, both men having a slot in the march one after the other. They were toying with joining up together, presenting a united front of ‘safe space’ and ‘welcoming community’. Stede and Ed had fallen into their easy conversation again, heads bowed and close to one another, looking down at a printed list. Stede’s crew - Jim and Oluwande to be precise - were manning the bar so that Stede could work.
“So I was thinking…” Ed reached a hand out and dug another piece of paper out of the stack, indicating the pirate themed float that they had considered and then scrapped. “I think we can make this work.”
“It’s a lot of work…” Stede hummed to himself, roving his gaze over the sketched concept image Lucius had drawn on the back of a napkin. He looked up at Ed, taking in the sight of his greying hair falling into his eyes, the sharp curve of his cheekbones that disappeared into his long beard. “We could make it work, though.” Not for the first time the thought that Ed wouldn’t look out of place on the deck of a ship flickered through his mind, sketching him with wind ruffling his curls and a sword in hand. It was a nice daydream, an escape from the unending monotony of the bar-ownership admin that made him want to burn it down for the insurance money.
“You really think so?” Stede nodded the affirmative to Ed’s question, his shoulder pressing against Ed’s as they pored over the gorgeously sketched image.
“We wouldn’t need to buy costumes.” He clicked his tongue behind his teeth, a tic that told Ed he was thinking about something. “We had a staff pirate party a few years back - I’m sure the costumes are still in the building somewhere.” Idly, he tapped his fingers onto the table, drumming a tune as he did so. “Plus you look pirate-y enough as it is.”
“That’s rude, mate.” But Ed’s tone was joking and he flashed a genuine smile at Stede. Ed often looked fearsome; he had thick dark hair that reached his ribs, his beard was long and shot through with grey hairs that aged him, and he often wore dark eyeliner to go with his all-black outfits. He was like a marvellous crossover of David Bowie from Labyrinth and an ageing wizard. The perfect pirate. “I’ll be honest though, Bonnet. I can’t really picture you as a pirate.” Stede laughed at that, reaching in his pocket for his phone.
“Well prepare to be bamboozled .” Scrolling through the camera roll he eventually lighted upon a grainy, blurry photo of him from the staff party. He was resplendent in an aqua coat with gold trim, a fluffy cravat tied around his neck. Ed snorted a laugh at that, leaning back in his chair and clutching his chest as if it pained him.
“Stede Bonnet, if that’s a pirate then I’m straight .” And Stede had laughed, locking his phone and sliding it back into the pocket of his jeans with a resigned sigh. Scrolling back through his camera roll often made his chest feel heavy: the pictures of Mary and the kids were a weight in his chest he could never bring himself to talk about.
“I didn’t say I was any good at dressing up.”
“No, I love it. Wear it.” Ed had smiled at him, shining brighter than the sun, and Stede knew then he was absolutely fucked .
Stede’s hand shook a little as he did up the final button on his peacoat, straightening the teal outfit and staring at himself in the mirror. Christ he looked like a tit. He could hear his father’s voice in the back of his head, the gruff ‘ lily-livered little rich boy’ making his blood run cold.
“Oh mate, look at you!” Ed’s voice rang out from behind him and Stede fixed a smile on his face, turning around. Ed hadn’t dressed any differently - not really - but there was something exceptionally pirate-y about him on this day. “You look spectacular.” Ed’s brown hands clasped his shoulders briefly, squeezing him as he took in the sight. “It suits you.” Stede laughed, shaking his head and taking a step back.
“Thank you, Edward, but no.” Ed’s nose wrinkled at the ‘Edward’ and he stepped back in kind. Stede rolled his shoulders, suddenly reaching into his pocket and fumbling with something in his hands.
“I almost forgot.” From his pocket, Stede pulled out a small scrap of cloth, folded roughly into a square. It was clearly expensive, the material was thick and heavy, the colours vibrant and bright. Blushing, he stepped forward and gently placed it into the top pocket of Ed’s leather jacket, hand resting above his heart for a moment too long. “I thought we could match.” He indicated the rainbow square stitched into the lining of his jacket, his eyes not quite meeting Ed’s.
“Stede…” Ed looked down at the rainbow pocket square, feeling a warmth swell in his chest. “You didn’t have to, mate.”
“I know.” Stede was pink, purposefully not looking at the other man. “You wear fine things well.” He whispered at length, finally pulling his hand away from the warm chest of Edward Teach. Abruptly, Stede took a large step back and turned away, raking his hands through his golden hair. “Anyway.” Ed watched him go, something unfurling in his stomach as he did so.
Stede wasn’t an extrovert. It surprised everyone who knew him to learn that he was actually quite anxious and struggled with his sense of self-worth. It was how he found himself slinking into a corner of the bar, nursing a glass of wine and pressing his back against the wall. He watched his crew mingle with other patrons, Ed’s crew, regulars and Pride-only customers. His neck was itchy from the collar of his shirt and he reached his free hand up to undo the cravat so that he could breathe better.
Ed was across the bar, deep in conversation with a man named “Izzy Hands”, someone Stede only vaguely remembered working with and had mostly negative associations in his brain. The pirate theme had been a roaring success, word had got around and the bar was full of patrons in fancy dress, drag queens and kings in themed costumes, and nautical decorations were festooned across the whole building.
Stede found himself watching him, willing him to turn and look at him. He didn’t know why he wanted these things; a feeling he couldn’t recognise was growling deep inside his chest. He sipped his wine, taking a deep breath in and pressing his back firmly against the cool wall. His phone was off in his pocket, a dead weight against his thigh. He had no one to text, no one to call; his and Mary’s separation had been official as of two nights ago and whilst he knew it was coming, it still fucking hurt.
“You did great today.” He hadn’t noticed Ed shuffling across the room to him and he jumped, embarrassed that he did so. Ed had been a bit slower since the parade, his painful knee clearly bothering him more than he let on. Almost automatically, Stede moved over so that Ed could lean instead of him, tapping the wall beside him in invitation.
“Thanks. I didn’t think this old thing would ever come out of the wardrobe again, but here we are.” Stede smiled wanly, the expression not meeting his eyes.
“Are you okay, mate?” Ed’s eyes were almost black in the low lighting, the soft brown surrounded by thick eyeliner making him seem somewhat ethereal. Stede nodded, unable to tear his gaze away. Whatever was curling inside his chest was almost purring at the closeness, and he didn’t have the energy to try and understand what that meant.
“Never better.” He sipped the wine again, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He could tell Ed didn’t believe him and he placed the now-empty glass down on the table beside him. The bar would rapidly become more nightclub-like and Stede didn’t have the energy for that.
“I’m going to head into the back. Did you want to join me?” Where that boldness came from, Stede didn’t know. He didn’t care either.
“That sounds great.” Ed briefly leaned his shoulder against Stede’s, smiling as he felt their warm lines press together. Stede’s hand ghosted over Ed’s forearm, so lightly that Ed could almost believe he imagined it. Almost.
'The back' turned out to be a small collection of rooms that vaguely resembled a house behind the door at the back of the bar. Stede had moved some things in since Mary had asked him for a separation but it was still rather Spartan. The only room that felt lived in was the bedroom; he had spent many nights in there even before Mary had asked for the separation, not wanting to go home to a home where he wasn’t wanted. But the kitchen they were in looked almost like a student dorm - very little in the way of cutlery and crockery, and he was sure the only thing in the fridge was half a lemon and some beer. He leaned heavily against the counter in the kitchen, slowly unbuttoning the fancy dress costume and struggling out of the heavy silk coat. Ed's hands were on him before he could react, helping him shed the warm outer layers.
"I'm not a child, you know." He murmured as he loosened the cravat even further at his neck, leaving it untied and almost roguish.
"I saw you put that thing on, mate. You made it look painful." Ed's voice was smooth, a little husky from all the shouting in the parade. Stede felt himself blush, a deep scarlet that clashed with his fair hair and complexion.
"Can I ask you something?" Stede asked as he carefully folded his sleeves up, revealing bare and muscular forearms. Ed's were intricately patterned with tattoos and Stede almost felt inferior beside him.
"Sure." Ed had dropped his attention, instead now rifling through the fridge for something to drink. There wasn't much in there, but there was an old six pack missing one. Ed triumphantly pulled two out, cracking the can open and handing the other to Stede.
"In the uh… spirit of it being Pride…" Stede cautiously took a sip of the beer, wrinkling his nose at the slightly insipid taste. "How did you know?" Stede indicated Ed's form, his brown eyes clouded - it was clear something was bugging him. Ed shrugged, acting for all the world if Stede had asked him what his favourite colour was - or something equally as inane.
"A bit cliché isn't it?" But his tone was gentle, relaxed. Ed leaned against the counter next to Stede, crossing his ankles and staring pensively at the top of the can. "But if you really want to know, I don't mind telling you." Ed took another sip from the can, tapping his fingers idly against the side.
"Sorry if I overstepped…" Stede began, but he was silenced by a warm hand on his arm.
"You're okay." Ed smiled at him, the whole world reducing to just that smile for a moment. "I had a friend, Jack. Called him Calico because he used to wear an eclectic mix of colours and shit. We grew up together. For a bit I really thought I was in love with the fucker, but it turns out I just like fucking men - Jack or otherwise." Stede could sense there was more to that story but decided not to press it. He nodded as if he understood, taking a swig from the can again. "That's not to say I've not tried it with women. It just doesn't do it for me." Ed shrugged, giving an impression of nonchalance. "What about you, ally-boy? How did you know it wasn't for you?"
"Oh… I…" Stede hadn't expected that, but he supposed it was only fair. He didn't look at Ed, not wanting to stumble over his words. "I just sort of… did what everyone expected of me. Mary and I, we… got married young. Had kids." Stede shrugged, feeling intense eyes flickering down to his left hand - bereft of a wedding ring. "Took the bar over from my dad when he died." He realised now he wasn't answering Ed's question, but the words kept coming. It was like a dam had burst inside his brain and there was nothing he could do to stop it all pouring out. “Never really thought about anything else. We were happy. I think, anyway.” There was a long pause and Stede shook himself. “Sorry. That was… A lot for a simple question.”
"I like hearing you talk." In their entire friendship, Stede had only talked about his wife once, when he had to pick the kids up from a birthday party unexpectedly. It didn't escape Ed's notice that Stede was now talking about Mary in the past tense , as opposed to present. "I think maybe you needed to get that off your chest."
"I think I did." Stede wasn't even close to being drunk, but his face was flushed red with embarrassment and he drained the can to keep his mouth shut. Both men stood in companionable silence for a moment, their breathing the only sound aside from the low humming of the fridge. Stede almost wanted to say something else, but was cut off by a shout from the bar.
“Captain! Need a hand out here!” Of course, the pirate theme . Stede met Ed’s eyes and both men let out a delirious giggle, pushing off of the counter and heading back into the crush.
It was approaching midnight and the bar was rammed and Stede had five cocktail orders on the go when he felt a familiar hand close over his arm.
"What's up, Ed?" He asked as he poured three consecutive shots of vodka into different shakers, tongue sticking out of his mouth ever so slightly. Ed found it incredibly endearing to watch.
"Just thought you might want to hear this." He shrugged as the PA system crackled to life and a familiar voice boomed out across the chaotic bar.
"Ladies, gentleman, both, neither, those in between, those who aren't sure and those who are left!" Stede felt a warm swell of love in his chest for Lucius, pausing in his cocktail making for a second - grateful for the brief reprieve as everyone turned their attention to the stage. Ed slipped behind the bar with him, leaning against the shelves as all the patrons turned away, leaving the two of them in sort of their own bubble..
Stede could recite what Lucius was going to say next, the words drilled into his head after years of the same message.
"Tonight at The Revenge, we are celebrating love! Capital 'L' love! So grab someone beautiful and let's celebrate love the best way we know how!" Just before midnight, much like New Year's Eve, the bar dropped the lights and gave everyone an opportunity to find someone to either kiss, hug or hold hands with. It was something to do with unity, but whilst Stede knew it was important, it wasn’t for him.
"On my count…!" Stede usually watched from behind the bar, slinking out of sight until the moment was over. It wasn't for allies after all. This time, though, he was watching the joy and love flow through the bar with a warm and solid presence next to him. Ed shouldn’t have even been behind the bar, but Stede found that he didn’t really mind all that much. It was nice to have someone show an interest in him for once - to actually feel like he was an important part of someone’s life.
The thought hit him like a punch to the gut. He suddenly realised, with a metaphorical weight crashing down and taking up space in the centre of his chest, that he had never known what it actually felt like to be wanted . Watching all the delighted faces of his patrons made that feeling intensify, swelling like a wave threatening to drag him under. He finished making the drinks, pushing them towards the people that had ordered them and smiling tensely. The feeling was crashing over him and he waved at Oluwande and Jim, excusing himself for a few minutes into the back.
Once away from the crush of the bar and the intensity of it all, Stede paced, dragging his hands through his hair. He didn’t know what had triggered this fight-or-flight style reaction. Okay, that was a lie, he knew exactly what was causing him to be this way. If he could only be brave and say the words, untangle them from that heavy ball in his chest.
But Stede wasn't brave. He wasn't brazen. He was a lily-livered whiny little rich boy and that was all he'd ever be. Trapped in a loveless marriage with a woman who'd finally had enough of lying to herself and him, doomed to push away any good thing that came his way.
"Fuck." He shouted, knowing his voice would be drowned out by the now-pounding music in the bar. "Fuck!" His mid-forties were absolutely not the time to have a big gay crisis.
"Stede?"
Double fuck.
Stood in the doorway, leaning heavily against the door frame, was Edward Teach.
"Ed. Hi. Look I… I'm not feeling well…" Stede started lamely as Ed limped forward, holding his hands up as if Stede were a spooked and wounded animal.
"That’s one of the worst lies I’ve ever heard. Talk to me. What's got you so rattled you can't even stand still?" Stede wanted to push past him, run into the night and never return. But he knew that was dramatic, so he squared his shoulders and stared at Ed with eyes that flickered with fear.
"It doesn’t matter." He said at length, voice shaking. He was like a wild animal, racing thoughts and racing pulse making him seem shaky. Ed stepped closer, his fingers catching on Stede's warm forearm.
"You're alright." Ed breathed, gaze liquid and inscrutable. "You're alright, Stede. It's alright." Stede nodded, fingers twitching briefly before he relented and reached for Ed. Ed stepped forward, folding Stede into his arms. "You're alright, love."
Love . Something about that one syllable word broke the dam that Stede had spent years carefully tending and holding everything back.
"My marriage is over.” He said abruptly, inwardly cringing at how strained his voice sounded. “It was never about love." Stede added that quickly, voice almost a whisper, as if worried anyone else might hear. "I don’t think Mary ever loved me.” He pulled away from Ed for a moment, trying to claw back some control, some decorum. He managed a little, stilling his trembling hands. “I don’t think we ever loved each other. Not… Not in the way you’re supposed to.” Ed didn’t need this, Stede decided. He made to step away, shaking his head like a faulty etch-a-sketch, clearing the slate. Ed’s hand caught him on the arm and held him there, pulling him back around to face him.
“Don’t run.” Ed’s voice was gentle, much quieter than the bold and brash man he had come to know and care for. That alone forced him to calm his racing thoughts, trying to lay out the words he wanted and needed to get out before they consumed him entirely. “No good ever came from running.” Ed had a point. Stede had run from his father for years until the old man had finally been in the ground, he’d run from his responsibility as a husband and father and shrouded it in ‘business decisions’. This was the consequence of all that running.
“What’s it like to be in love?” Stede asked quietly, his eyes not meeting Ed’s.
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever known what it feels like. I don’t think I’ve ever…” Stede shrugged, swallowing hard and then continuing. “It never felt like the stories said it should. Not with Mary. I don’t think she ever felt that way about me either. It wasn’t fireworks or butterflies. It was convenient. We got married because everyone said we should. She wanted kids - and I love kids - so we did that. But other than that…” Stede grasped around the empty air for the words and found none. “When she asked for a separation I moved out. When she asks me for a divorce, I’ll sign the papers and won’t even think about it.”
He looked so dejected, so miserable; it was an unconscious thought for Ed to wrap his arms around him, pulling him in for a tight hug. One arm went around his neck and the other around his waist, enveloping him. It was the first time they'd touched properly, more than the accidental brush when working together. "Sorry." Stede whispered against Ed's neck, surrendering to how nice it was to be touched with a positive emotion attached to it. He hadn't realised how touch-starved he was until that second and he felt aglow.
"You alright there, Stede mate?" Ed's voice was soft against the shell of his ear, warm breath fluttering the stray strands of hair against his cheek. For a second, Ed entertained the idea of pulling Stede back and kissing him until he forgot how sad he was. The thought flashed across his brain and then vanished. That was a capital-t Terrible Idea. He could imagine it now, the desperation to be loved and then how sick he would feel, taking advantage of a man in crisis. He wrestled those thoughts down as Stede spoke again.
"Wonderful." Stede whispered drily, taking a small step back and looking up at Ed. Ed smiled, dark eyes searching Stede's face and into his soul. “I don’t think I’ve ever been better.”
"No sadness on Pride weekend." Ed declared suddenly, resisting the urge to pull Stede back against him, instead just lightly resting his hands on his hips.
"Agreed. In fact, I should get back out there. Help my crew." They were still very close and Stede had to force himself to stay still and not fall into the warmth of the man in front of him.
"You'll be okay?" Ed tapped the ring finger on Stede's left hand knowingly and Stede felt his heart sink. He wondered if his crew had noticed, and swiftly decided that they had. That was something for future Stede to handle.
"Yeah. Yeah I'll be okay." He smiled thinly and then stepped back, his body protesting as Ed's warm hands slid off of him. Stede straightened his shirt and then slipped back into the bar, leaving Ed staring at the space he had occupied.
Ed had hung around until the final patron had left, helping Stede close the bar down and tidy up as best as possible. They had slipped into companionable silence, collecting glasses and loading the dishwasher without exchanging a word. Ed didn’t have to do any of that, he knew he didn’t, but he had been keeping an eye on Stede since his breakdown in the kitchen. He didn’t really know why he was so attached to the other man, what it was about him that drew his attention completely and unequivocally, but he decided that he didn’t care about that right now.
This whole evening had been a total rollercoaster and Ed had resolved to treat Stede very gently for the foreseeable - and to try and convince him to be equally as gentle with himself as well. He knew Stede well enough to know by now that the man really struggled with being kind to himself - he was so uncertain all of the time, as if he was constantly trying to prove something to people who never cared about the outcome either way.
It was just before 4am when Stede walked Ed to the door and opened it for him. The last patron had been walked to their taxi by Pete on his way out, and the bar was quiet now.
“Thank you, Ed.” Stede’s voice was soft, still with that edge of apology. He looked tired, but at least there was a shimmer of something other than sadness in his eyes. “You didn’t have to stay this late.”
“I wanted to.” Ed raked a hand through his unruly hair and freed it from the bun it had been kept in. The thick curls fell into his eyes a little and he offered Stede another warm smile, his eyes crinkling. “I think you needed a friend.”
A friend .
At risk of sounding pathetic, Stede mentally calculated if he had ever actually had a real friend before. He didn’t think so. The boys he went to boarding school with had been his tormentors; his crew (as much as they were a family now) had started as employees; the friends from the marriage were all Mary’s… Yeah, with a sad realisation, Stede suddenly became aware of the fact that he’d never had a friend.
“I did.” He handed Ed his jacket - long removed as the bar grew warm with the flood of bodies - and held the door open with his foot. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Course you will.” Ed lingered on the threshold, shrugging his leather jacket over his slim shoulders and looking out into the still night air. Silence hung between them, the wail of distant sirens forming a perfect backdrop to the strangeness of it. Ed patted his pockets, checking he had his wallet, keys and phone as he prepared to step away and into the night.
“Ed?” Stede’s voice came from behind him and he turned, the wind blowing his wild hair into his face. The hazy orange of the streetlights bathed him in a golden glow, making him seem like some kind of biblical creature. “I really am sorry about all of it.”
“Nothing to apologise for, mate.” Ed shrugged with that easy grace that had so captivated Stede in the beginning, hands shoved into the pockets of his black leather trousers. “Get some rest.”
“Yeah.” Stede gazed at him steadily, something inscrutable in his gaze. “Let me know when you get home?”
“Alright, mum.” With that, Ed turned and sauntered away from the door and into the gathering darkness. Stede laughed to himself, shaking his head and locking the bar door behind him.
It was suddenly too quiet.
[SMS: Ed Teach] You will be pleased to hear I did not, in fact, get murdered on my way home.
[SMS: Stede Bonnet] I am very relieved. Thanks again for tonight.
[SMS: Ed Teach] Stop thanking me. It was nothing, mate.
[SMS: Stede Bonnet] Probably not how you wanted to spend your holiday though was it? Is Izzy mad at you for missing midnight?
[SMS: Ed Teach] Izzy isn’t my boyfriend. Anyway, last I saw he was having a great time with one of your bartenders.
[SMS UNSENT] I’m single, Stede. If you’re interested.
[SMS UNSENT] I’m interested, I mean.
[SMS UNSENT] Probably not the best timing, is it?
[SMS UNSENT] Idiot.
[SMS: Stede Bonnet] Oh. I just assumed you were together.
[SMS UNSENT] I think I’d like to take you out. Maybe.
[SMS UNSENT] Fuck.
Stede dropped his phone onto his chest and stared up at the ceiling in the quasi-darkness of almost dawn. Whatever he was feeling, he didn’t know how to untangle this mess of thoughts. Across town, Ed was doing the same. His finger hovered over the unsent text messages, agonising over the decision.
[SMS: Ed Teach] Nah mate. We dated a bit when we were kids but it never stuck.
[SMS: Stede Bonnet] You’re too good for him anyway.
[SMS UNSENT] Who is good enough for me then, Stede? You?
Ed had taken some offence to that. Izzy was one of his oldest and closest friends - and yes, they had dated on and off for about a year but it was strictly platonic now. They were too similar, brought out the worst in each other. Not like Stede. Good, gracious, kind Stede. Who only brought out the best in him.
[SMS: Ed Teach] Stede Bonnet unsheathing his claws? Well I never.
[SMS: Stede Bonnet] I didn’t mean it like that.
[SMS: Ed Teach] It’s a fair one, mate. Izzy’s a wildcard.
[SMS: Stede Bonnet] For a second there I thought you were mad at me.
[SMS: Ed Teach] For a second there I was.
[SMS: Ed Teach] Untype that ‘sorry’ you just typed. It’s fine, we’re good.
[SMS: Stede Bonnet] How do you know me so well? It’s unsettling. I’m still not convinced you aren’t a pirate with magical powers.
[SMS: Ed Teach] Just call me ‘Blackbeard’.
[SMS: Stede Bonnet] It’s a bit more of a ‘Greybeard’.
[SMS: Ed Teach] Rude.
[SMS: Ed Teach] Not wrong, though. You lunatic.
[SMS: Stede Bonnet] I prefer the term ‘maniac’.
[SMS UNSENT] And I’d prefer you in my bed, not alone in yours .
Where the fuck had that come from? Ed placed his phone face down on his chest, staring at the ceiling. Whatever Stede had awoken in him, it was fragile. He had to play this safe and not spook him.
[SMS: Ed Teach] Maniac it is. Get some sleep, you maniac.
[SMS: Stede Bonnet] You too. Sweet dreams.
[SMS UNSENT] I’ll probably be dreaming about you.
Stede stared at the screen, waiting for a reply that was definitely not coming. He had definitely ended the conversation and, whilst the bubbles popped up to indicate Ed was typing, they had gone away again now. He closed his eyes, willing his brain to untangle the mess in his dreams.
Stede practised what he was going to say over and over again in the mirror, staring at his reflection in the silvered glass. He rarely looked at himself for longer than the time it took to brush his hair, not liking the reflection that saw. But today, one week after his breakdown in the kitchen, he was obsessing, staring straight at himself and trying to will his voice not to shake.
“Just say it.” He whispered to himself, hands tightening on the sink so hard his knuckles were white. “Your marriage failed because you’re…” He closed his eyes, wincing. Mary and he were separated and things were good. Great, even! He didn’t have to go home to a house that echoed with loss, where he had to shrink himself to fit in the mould that wasn’t made for him. Even the kids had taken it well and were texting him separately, making plans to see a movie at the weekend or go out to the beach.
His failed marriage wasn’t the bad thing he had always assumed it would be. There had been no reckoning, no anger. No one had thrown blame. They had simply fallen apart because they had never meant to be in the first place.
“Because I’m…” The words failed on his tongue. Who knew a simple three letter word was so hard to say, that it had so much power over him. He could say it when talking about marketing for The Revenge , he could say it when his crew were chatting and idly enjoying time together. Hell, he could even say it when he talked about Ed and how he knew him. But to label himself… That was hard. So hard.
“Stede Bonnet is g–.” The word stuck in his throat and he swallowed reflexively, dropping his head in embarrassment and shame. It was one fucking word . But when he tried to say it, the echo of the bullies in his boarding school flooded out of his mouth, their sneering tones yelling and jibing and he was angry . Angry that they had been right all along and that he’d wasted years of his life in a futile effort to prove them wrong. A marriage that was, now he was really being honest with himself, a sham.
“Come on, Stede.” He whispered, staring at the floor and clenching his jaw so hard it hurt. “It’s three letters.” Grasping the porcelain of the sink, he leaned his full weight on it and stared at the opaque white surface. He tried a different tack.
“Ed is my friend.” A breath, a pause. “Ed is a man who I met through work. Work on my bar. My gay bar. The gay bar that I own and run.” It was working, sort of. “Ed is a gay man. Like me.” There, a start . “Like me.” He repeated to himself, forcing the fear down. The world would not end if he acknowledged that which he had known all along. But it was just so hard to say those words out loud, to admit them even to nobody. Because if he said them out loud then he was truly accepting it.
His marriage was over. Had been for years.
His life had been wasted.
“Edward Teach is a gay man.” Stede willed himself to keep going, forcing the words that burned like bile in the back of his throat. “And I am, too.” So close, Stede . “I’m a gay man.”
He waited for the world to end. He waited for the room to dissolve around him, for everything to crash and burn. But it didn’t. Stede remained standing, his hands spasming on the edge of the sink and his chest heaving. He felt like he’d just run a marathon. Adrenaline made him shake.
But saying it to himself was one thing, saying it to other people was a whole other dragon to slay.
[SMS: Stede Bonnet] Can we talk?
[SMS: Ed Teach] Uh oh. Nothing good ever comes of that particular phrase. But of course we can, what’s up?
[SMS: Stede Bonnet] In person, I mean. I promise I’m not trying to be cryptic.
[SMS: Ed Teach] I’ve got a meeting later with one of the local nurses, trying to get her to come down to The Revenge and help our clinic. Is a phone call okay?
[SMS: Stede Bonnet] A phone call is fine. I think.
[SMS: Ed Teach] Cryptic. I’ll call you, maniac.
Ed tapped his fingers on his knee brace as he dialled Stede’s number. He was lying, he didn’t have a meeting. He had physio, and he was embarrassed to talk about it even though he knew it was a totally normal and mundane thing. He knew Stede had noticed the brace, but he tried not to draw attention to it.
“Go on then, what’s so important you had to talk to me in person?” Ed said as Stede picked up the phone, leaning back in his chair.
“Ed I…” Ed heard Stede take a huge breath in and his ears pricked up. He leaned forwards as if they were in person, giving the phone against his ear his undivided attention.
“You aren’t hurt or anything are you?” Concern tainted his voice and he heard Stede give an almost laugh on the other end. It sounded as though he’d been crying.
“No. No, I’m okay.” Ed’s fingers drummed on the uncomfortable hospital chair he was in and he tried to drown the rest of the arbitrary noise out, just listening to Stede’s crackling voice at the end of the line. “I just wanted to tell you. I…” Another huge breath and then a long pause. Ed almost thought Stede had hung up, moved to check the call when…
“I’m gay.” Ed froze. The whole world seemed to freeze with him. He remembered his first time confronting that fact, how easy it had been. For Stede it must have been one of the hardest things he’d ever done - for fuck’s sake, they’d been talking about his wife just six days ago.
“You’re sure?” What a stupid thing to say. Ed mentally kicked himself.
“Yes I… I think I am.” Ed hoped that he was imagining the deflated tone in Stede’s voice, but he knew he wasn’t.
“I’ve always been shit at these kinds of things.” It was half apology, half explanation. “But I’m so fucking proud of you, Stede. Working out who you are is so fucking hard. Some people never do.”
“You’re proud?” Stede sounded surprised, his tone belying him. “I’d… Never thought of it that way.” Ed could imagine him now, pacing around the living room behind the bar and running a hand through his golden hair. It was a comforting image, one he clung to as he carefully considered his next words.
“I don’t know what reaction you wanted from me, love.” The affectation had slipped in again, without his permission. “I’m proud of you for telling me. However you’re feeling, I’m proud of you.”
“I don’t know either.” Stede’s voice was barely a whisper now and Ed felt like he had done something wrong, that he was on unsteady ground.
“Look, I’ll come by this evening. We can talk properly, if you want.”
“Sounds good.” Stede hung up without saying goodbye. Ed stared at his phone, locking it and sliding it into his pocket as his physiotherapist called his name.
Stede put his phone face down on the bar. It had been a week of turmoil, and he was just tired. There was a weight off of his shoulders now that he’d said it out loud and told one person, but he still felt deflated at the reaction. He idly wondered whether it was a mistake, staring at the wallpaper opposite him. He didn’t think so. He rubbed his face and his hand came away glittery. Despite running Pride events for years, he always seemed to forget that glitter got fucking everywhere , and even after a week of showering he was still finding it.
They’d be finding it for the next six months, at least.
“Hey, Captain?” Despite the pirate theme being a one-night-only thing, the nickname ‘Captain’ had stuck.
“Yes Lucius?”
“I was just doing the order, is there anything we need? Aside from the obvious.” He indicated the half empty spirit bottles and mixers that were in dire need of replenishment after the absolute piss-up that had been Pride weekend. Stede’s soul-searching in the surface of the bar helped stabilise him as he nodded, surprising himself.
“Yes, actually.” He took a small breath in, balled his hands up into fists beneath the veneered surface. Lucius looked expectantly at him, pen poised over the order sheet. “We can order Pride flags from our supplier, can’t we?”
“We always have done, yeah. Why?”
“I’d like you to order a gay mens flag.”
“We have a few already.” Lucius indicated the wall of flags, pointing out the green and blue one with a small wave of his pen. “Why do you want a new one?” Another deep breath from Stede, another pause.
“For me.” Lucius’s face broke into a grin and he nodded, scribbling the note on the order form.
“Welcome to the club, boss.”
[SMS: Stede Bonnet] Meet me in the back?
Ed looked down at his phone as the message pinged through, his brow furrowing in confusion. It was early afternoon, so the bar wouldn’t be busy. There wasn’t any reason for him to go into the back. But he had long acknowledged that Stede was a bit of a wildcard, a beautiful maniac, and he just nodded to himself.
[SMS: Ed Teach] Sure thing. Won’t be long.
Ed had toyed with the idea of getting Stede a ‘coming out’ present. Something little and cutesy. But that wasn’t his style. Instead, he’d dropped by a local bakery and picked him up a little something; it was crude and he was taking a risk, but he hoped it would make Stede laugh if nothing else. Cradling the white box carefully, he stepped through the open doors of The Revenge and made a beeline towards the doors at the back of the bar. The bar was quiet and he wasn’t noticed by any staff as he slunk through the door, heading for the small kitchen where he assumed Stede would be.
“Bonnet?” He called, placing the box carefully beside the microwave.
“Hello, Ed.” Stede looked equal parts exhausted and elated. His shirt was unbuttoned at the neck, sleeves rolled up and displaying his pale forearms. His hair was tousled; clearly the man had raked his hands through it many times throughout the day.
“How’s it feel?” Ed asked, leaning against the counter and immediately taking the weight off his knee. Physio hurt like a bitch, and even though he knew it helped, he still wasn’t happy about it. Clearly that threw Stede off-guard, he looked confused, mouth partially open. “To have told someone, I mean.”
“Oh!” Stede’s face broke into a smile, sheepishly washing his face with some kind of joy. “It…” He shrugged, leaning against the doorframe. There was something about how he moved that was different, Ed noticed. Like he was moving with more comfort, like he was more confident in himself. “It feels great.”
“I’ve heard being honest does that to you. Not that I’d know, I lie all the time. My name’s not even Ed.” Stede cracked another smile at that and pushed off the doorjamb, spotting the white box on the counter beside him.
“What’s that?” He indicated it with a jerk of his thumb, head cocked to one side.
“That? Just a little something I got for you.” Ed found himself with that prickling feeling at the back of his neck that told him he was blushing. Blushing! Internally he wished the floor would open up and consume him. “It’s non-refundable, so if you hate it please pretend I never got it for you.” Stede was close to him now and Ed turned, their shoulders brushing together as the other man opened the lid of the cake box.
Inside, crudely iced, was a vanilla cake with rainbow sprinkles. In the middle were the words:
“Surprise! You’re gay!”
Ed held his breath, waiting for Stede’s reaction. It had been a ridiculous idea, he now realised, and he was preparing a big spiel about being a moron until– Stede was laughing, his whole chest heaving as he tried to suppress the giggles.
“It was a bit of a surprise, you’re right.” He managed in between bouts, and soon Ed was swept up in the laughter too, eyes crinkling with joy. Stede was so different. It was like that single moment had swept up every other insecurity, every other thing that Stede had wrestled with, and he was truly allowing himself to exist in this world.
“Glad you like it, mate.” Ed caught Stede’s gaze and held it, smiling at him. Something flickered between them, hot and new.
[SMS: Stede Bonnet] I told the rest of the crew today.
[SMS: Ed Teach] Yeah? How’d that go?
[SMS: Stede Bonnet] They liked your cake.
[SMS: Ed Teach] Rude. I didn’t even get a slice of that.
[SMS: Stede Bonnet] [IMG_Attached] I saved you some.
[SMS: Ed Teach] I ever tell you that you’re the best person in the world?
[SMS: Stede Bonnet] Flattery will get you nowhere.
[SMS: Stede Bonnet] …
[SMS: Stede Bonnet] Okay, flattery will get you somewhere.
[SMS: Ed Teach] WIll flattery get you to come on a date with me?
Ed had almost not sent that last message, his finger hovering over the little send notification for what felt like hours before he bit the bullet and did it. He could imagine Stede, flushed red and flustered, desperately trying to find the right words. At least, that’s what he hoped. He hoped Stede wasn’t spooked and was trying desperately to find a way to gently turn him down. He stared at the screen, the little typing bubble appearing and disappearing spasmodically for almost five minutes before another text message pinged through.
[SMS: Stede Bonnet] I’d love nothing more.
[SMS: Ed Teach] 7pm tomorrow? I’ll pick you up.
[SMS: Stede Bonnet] Perfect.
Ed stared at himself in the mirror. It was ludicrous to be nervous, he had met Stede every single night for over six months, not caring what he looked like. But this time felt different, it was different, he supposed. Stede had almost collapsed in his arms just over a week ago about the state of his marriage, and now he was taking him out on a date. The little voice inside his head whispered it’s too soon but he chose to ignore it.
Carefully, he uncapped his eyeliner pencil and smudged some of the inky black below his eyes, drawing an elegant flick at the corner. It was nothing more than his usual make up, just a touch neater than it usually was. Stretching out, his t-shirt rose up and revealed a tanned strip of stomach with scattered tattoos. Ed knew he looked good for being in his mid-forties: what had been a lithe and muscled body of a youth had broadened as he’d gotten older but he still retained his slim form. He was also tall, which helped.
He scraped his hair back into a loose half-bun, wrangling the locks that seriously did not want to comply and tying them back out of his eyes. Staring at himself he saw a fairly handsome older man staring back, his beard and hair now shot through with thick ropes of grey that only added to distinguish him as older. Satisfied, he added a light spritz of aftershave and let out a long, slow breath.
It was just a date. Just a date with an utter maniac who he had fallen head over heels for, but just a date all the same.
Back at The Revenge , Stede was staring at his wardrobe in despair. He’d never had to woo anyone, never had cause to get dressed up for a date. He didn’t know what to wear. Which was ridiculous, Ed had seen him for six months in various states of dishevelment after busy shifts and hectic days. How he looked tonight would have no bearing on whatever attraction there was, but still he stared at his scant clothing assortment and frowned.
It would have to be jeans, he had nothing else. He had a nice pair, though, black and tight-fitting. Not quite a mirror of Ed’s leather trousers, but a little less extreme. Putting those on just left him to contemplate the shirts in his wardrobe. He had a nice selection, having grown up in a household that prized appearances, but he didn’t know which one to wear tonight. He had never gone on a date before, not really. He thought for a long time, trying to remember what Ed had said about his favourite colour - if he even had.
He came up blank.
Turning his wrist, he caught sight of his watch and nervously exhaled. It was 6:45pm and he still wasn’t dressed. Despairing, he grabbed a blue shirt from the wardrobe, a soft aqua shade that had been dusted at the collar and sleeves with golden stars. He had no idea where it had come from or even how long he had it. It looked good on him though, tight enough to show off his figure without straining the buttons.
6:50pm. He didn’t have time to do anything with his hair except card his fingers through it to try and flatten some of the unruly curls. It didn’t work. Where Ed’s was long and the curls flowed like water, Stede’s less coiled waves tended to look like he’d been electrocuted if not tamed into submission. He didn’t have time for that. Groaning, he chanced one final look in the mirror and stared at himself. He didn’t really recognise the man that stared back at him. He looked confident. Brave.
Let’s do this .
“Hey.” Ed’s voice was soft as Stede stepped out into the warm summer evening, face relaxing as he caught sight of the other man. “I’m really glad you said yes.”
“Me too.” Seeing Ed made all of Stede’s body warm, he was so handsome it was almost unfair. For a second Stede wondered if he was even real . Ed held a hand out to Stede, an invitation but one he made clear he could refuse. For a moment, Stede did consider rejecting the hand - but it was just handholding. He extended his hand in return, sliding his fingers between Ed’s and squeezing nervously. “Where are we going?”
“I didn’t want to put too much pressure on you.” Ed explained, guiding them towards the small alleyway that lead towards a sprawling golf course, complete with artificial lake. “I didn’t want you to feel like you’re on display. I thought maybe we could just walk and talk. Maybe even feed the ducks?” He shot Stede a grin and pulled a small bag out of his pocket labelled in scrawling handwriting as ‘ duck shit’ .
“That’s incredibly thoughtful of you.” And Stede meant it. It had been lurking in the back of his mind that going on a date meant being in public. Stede wasn’t sure if he was ready for that, and his heart swelled at Ed’s thoughtfulness.
“Yeah, well…” Ed blushed, shrugging. They walked in companionable silence until they reached the public access to the golf course, taking their time meandering down a small gravel pathway. Stede was gradually loosening up, casting stolen glances at Ed from time to time.
“Did you know I’ve never actually been on a date?” Stede asked mildly, as if he was asking about the weather or something as boring and banal. Ed raised an eyebrow.
“What, never? Never ever?” Stede shook his head, suddenly embarrassed.
“It took me until my mid-forties and my marriage breaking down to work out that I liked men, I’m not exactly ahead of the curve on that one.” Ed hummed in response, clicking his tongue behind his teeth and nodding, guiding them towards the lake. It was almost in sight now, the sunset burning the air golden and making the lake seem almost inky black and fathomless. Golden hour .
“But seriously, never? Not even as an awkward teenager?”
“All-male boarding school.”
“Ah.”
“Mhm.” They had reached the edge of the lake now, the gravel path curling around and into the scattered trees that ringed it. Ed dug in his pocket for the bag and handed it to Stede, his fingers lingering on his wrist as he did so. Stede smiled, nudging Ed’s shoulder with his own and taking a small handful of the ever-vague duck shit . Almost immediately they fall back into that easy routine that had been their staple for the last six months, easy talking with conversation ebbing and flowing like the tide.
Ed realised, suddenly, that this is what it could be like all the time. That him and Stede really could make it work, they’d been making it work without knowing for over half a year. The thought warmed him and he suddenly wrapped an arm around Stede’s waist, holding him close. Stede leaned into the touch, resting his head on Ed’s shoulder.
“You’re thinking.” Stede said quietly. “I can feel it.”
“I am.” Ed sighed, tightening the arm around Stede and letting out a soft breath. “I’m thinking… The last six months have been some of the best I’ve had.” Stede listened intently, breathing in the subtle scent of Ed’s aftershave and feeling the steady thump of his heart in his chest. The moment was tranquil, peaceful. “And I’m really glad I had the balls to ask you on a date.”
“I’m glad you did too.” Stede fiddled with the button on his sleeve, the gold shimmering in the lazy glow of the setting sun.
“Stede?” Stede nodded, tilting his head up to look at Ed. “Maybe this is too heavy for a first date, but fuck it. I want to spend the rest of my life doing what makes me happy.”
“A fine goal.” Stede nodded, unable to tear his gaze away from Ed’s face - drawn in sharp relief with the golden sunlight. “And what is it that makes you happy?”
“You.” Stede’s breath caught and he pulled away, but only so that he could see his face properly instead of just the side profile.
“Me?” Ed nodded, his gaze levelled and unflinching.
“You.” Gingerly, he stretched a hand out and cradled the side of Stede’s face. His fingers traced the smooth skin - Stede had clearly shaved earlier - and then down to his jaw, barely even ghosting over Steve’s skin. Wherever Ed touched him was aflame and Stede let out a shaky breath, eyes fluttering closed. “You make me happy, Stede Bonnet.”
There was a moment, perfect and suspended as if completely frozen in time. Stede felt Ed’s fingers slide through his unruly hair, the other hand reaching for his hip and resting lightly at the very top of his jeans. Ed was careful, slow, and as his lips brushed over Stede’s the moment shattered into a thousand perfect pieces.
It was exactly like all the books Stede had gotten lost in as a child said it would be.
Ed’s lips were soft and warm against his own, sending electric shocks through his nerves and causing a flipping sensation in his belly. It was addictive and Stede allowed himself to surrender to the feeling. Ed’s thumb traced his cheekbone and Stede found himself grabbing a fistful of his shirt, his other hand resting over the fluttering heart beneath Ed’s chest.
There was a brief pause as Ed pulled away, just slightly, enough to snatch a shaking breath in.
“You make me happy too.” Stede whispered, eyes still closed. Ed felt his heart do shaky backflips, his entire body shaking with the intensity of the moment. It had never felt like this before, like they were two pieces who slotted perfectly together and they had finally found one another.
“Can I take you home?”
“I’d like nothing more.”
Ed had only just gotten the door closed behind them both before his hands were all over Stede, sliding underneath his shirt and feeling his soft skin, tracing paths all over and learning him. Stede, for all his inexperience, was following Ed’s enthusiastic lead and had managed to untie Ed’s hair, freeing his hair like a waterfall and tangling his hands in it. Pressing Stede’s back against the door, Ed pressed hot kisses down his throat and onto his neck, tasting the slight tang of sweat on Stede’s pale skin.
“Stop me if you need to, yeah?” Ed whispered, teeth grazing the underside of Stede’s jaw. The other man shuddered, nodding and tilting his head back in sheer delight. This was everything he had ever imagined, feeling wanted and desired was making him feel drunk.
“I hardly think that will be necessary.” He gasped out, almost whimpering as he felt Ed’s fingers deftly undo the buttons on his shirt. “But I will. I promise.” Ed nodded, pushing the silky material off of Stede’s shoulders and pressing scalding kisses to every bared part of him. Stede shuddered, his own hands fumbling at the edge of Ed’s black t-shirt, trying and failing to pull it over his head. He whined, clearly frustrated, and Ed laughed against his neck.
“Let me help you.” Ed stepped back so that there was enough space and helped Stede to guide his tight black t-shirt off, letting it drop to the floor unheeded. Stede was staring and Ed felt suddenly self-conscious, folding his arms over his chest, his skin prickling with goosebumps.
“You wear fine things well, but you wear nothing best of all.” Stede murmured softly, his pupils blown black and hungry. His hands traced down Ed’s arms, fingertips following the lines of his thickly inked tattoos, jumping from place to place. It was like he was trying to remember what every little detail of Ed’s skin was like, lips moving as he silently committed to memory every single mark and image. Ed let Stede unfold his arms, revealing the inked scrawl across his chest and shivering as Stede’s fingers whorled over his muscles. He became suddenly aware that his knee was aching and he shifted, extending his hand to Stede.
“Bedroom?” Stede didn’t answer with words, just a low whine in the back of his throat. Ed led him like a puppy, limping a little through his cramped flat and into the bedroom. They collapsed onto the bed, Stede pushing Ed down and staring at him. Ed didn’t mind letting Stede lead, he’d had plenty of experience here and he knew every single moment was brand new to the other man. He wanted him to enjoy it, to take as much or as little time as he wanted. Ed shimmied up the bed, taking the weight off of his troubled knee and letting Stede drink in every single second of it.
Ed’s skin was speckled with freckles between the tattoos and Stede wanted to trace their constellations, mark them as man had marked the night sky in the ages of old. Ed was a starscape, ethereally beautiful and ever-changing. Steve drew lines between the freckles with his fingertip, making shapes that phased and shifted even as they lay there in the low lighting. His hands skimmed further down and he stopped, frowning at a raised collection of scars just above Ed’s right hip.
“Appendicitis.” He whispered as Stede looked up, his hand catching Stede’s jaw and holding him there for a long moment. “It got infected and there were issues. I had three separate surgeries.” He shrugged, drinking in Stede’s beauty. “I don’t even notice it any more.” Stede nodded, straddling over Ed’s waist and leaning close to kiss him again. Ed’s fingers were on his buttons, baring his chest and pushing the expensive material onto the floor of his bedroom. Bared, Stede felt the blush rise up over his chest and into his cheeks, burning him. “Fuck.” Ed breathed, his hand resting on Stede’s stomach, feeling the hitching breath and the subtle dips of his muscles beneath his digits.
Seeing Stede like this had sent every single drop of blood straight to Ed’s dick. He could feel it straining against the waistband of his leather trousers, achingly hard and desperate to be touched. Ed reached out and took Stede’s hand, guiding it between his legs so that he could feel it. Stede’s eyes widened as he felt it, hand shaking as he silently asked for permission to relieve Ed of his bottoms.
“You’re driving me crazy, Stede.” He breathed, head dropping back onto the pillows as he felt slender fingers unbutton and unzip, guiding the material down his legs. “You fucking maniac .” Stede smiled, self-conscious as he tentatively dipped his fingers beneath the waistband of Ed’s boxer shorts, almost whimpering at the heat radiating from him.
“I don’t… know what I’m doing…” Stede breathed shakily, almost embarrassed as he met Ed’s eyes.
“You’re doing a fucking good job.” Ed reassured, but he pushed Stede back a second to unclip his knee brace and slide his clothes off. He held out a hand for Stede, divulging him of his jeans and switching their positions so that Stede was the one on his back with Ed straddling him. His knee protested but he ignored it, kissing Stede hard and messily on his mouth. Stede whimpered beneath him and Ed roved his hands all over Stede’s body, feeling every single shift in his muscles as he did so.
“Just keep talking to me, yeah?” Ed whispered against Stede’s lips, pulling back long enough to look him in the eye. Stede nodded, and Ed leaned down to press molten kisses across his chest and stomach, each touch sending a shock through Stede’s nerves. He felt like he was being consumed by fire, the trails Ed was leaving on his skin sending radiating waves of pleasure straight to his groin. Ed kissed him softly on the hip, palming Stede’s cock through his boxers. Stede groaned, eyes fluttering shut.
“Ed…” He breathed, sweat shining on his skin. Ed nodded, pulling Stede’s boxers down and stifling a moan at the sight of him. He looked as hard as Ed felt, leaking precum without even being touched. It had been a while since Ed had done the deed with anyone, and recently they had been quick fucks just to get his rocks off. He wanted this to be different. He didn’t want to fuck Stede - although he absolutely did want to make him scream - he wanted to make something out of this, make it mean more than every other fumble in a dark bathroom or blowjob out the back of a bar. Stede was different . He deserved kindness and softness.
“Right there with you, mate.” He carefully pulled his own boxers off, guiding Stede’s hand to touch him. He knew, acutely, that this was the first time Stede had done anything like this, and he lay his hand over his to show him what he liked. Stede was a quick learner and he bit back a groan, his hand flying out to steady himself on the headboard. “Fuck.” He dropped his hand to Stede, fingers tracing the thick vein on the underside of him, thumb brushing over the leaking tip. It felt disgustingly erotic, just touching each other like this, and Ed knew he would need to pace himself if he wanted to really show Stede how good sex could be.
“Fuck, Stede.” He whispered, chest heaving. “I want to fuck you. Properly, I mean. If you don’t want that it’s–.” His vision shimmered for a second as Stede experimented with pressure. “--Fine, we can just carry on like this.” He panted, trying to force down the waves of pleasure. He was like a fucking teenager. Barely touched and already feeling that telltale flicker of an orgasm in the back of his mind. Fuck .
“I want that.” Stede whispered, eyes black with desire and writhing slightly on the bed beneath Ed’s hands. “I want that. Ed–.” Ed ground his hips down against Stede’s, cutting him off. Stede let out a soft gasp and a moan of desire, his free hand scrunching into the bedcovers. Ed nodded, pulling away suddenly and leaving Stede untouched. He whined, almost pouting .
“Keep touching yourself.” Ed was tempted to add that it was an order, but Stede was too far gone for that, it might actually make him come instantly. Instead, he fumbled in his bedside drawer for the small bottle of lube and the condoms he kept there. “I need you to keep talking to me again.” He breathed, his hands actually trembling slightly. It had been so long since he’d had sex for anything other than the primal release. With Stede there were actual feelings on the line, a lifetime perhaps.
“I can d-do that.” Stede’s breath was coming in frantic heaves and Ed reached a hand out to still his wrist, stopping him touching himself for a moment.
“Don’t go all the way. Not yet.” Stede nodded, trying to get a hold on his ragged breathing. Ed crawled down the bed a little, nudging Stede’s legs apart and kissing the inside of his thighs, worrying the kissed skin with his teeth and raising bright red marks that would almost certainly bruise. Stede whimpered, legs falling open to give Ed more room. “Alright, sweetheart. Let me know when you’re ready.” He had lubed a finger up whilst he was kissing, waiting for Stede’s assent.
“O-okay.” Stede shifted his hips up a little to help Ed gain entrance, his fingers tangling in the thick waves of hair atop his head. He whimpered as he felt the finger circle his entrance, then moaned wickedly as one intruded. It wasn’t pleasant, not really, and he forced himself to be still so he could accommodate the feeling. It was foreign, completely new to him.
“Talk to me.” Ed whispered, kissing his thigh gently. “How does it feel?”
“Weird.” Not the sexiest thing to say, Stede thought lamely, blushing further. Ed just laughed, dropping another kiss to the patch of skin where thigh meets hip, breathing in the musky scent of precome and sweat.
“Weird is good.” Ed encouraged, curling his finger ever so slightly to brush against that spot inside of Stede that he knew would make him see stars. Stede jolted like he’d been electrocuted, back arching a little as another strangled whimper fell from his lips. His eyes were so dark they were almost black and he looked positively fucked . It made Ed’s cock ache harder, so hard that he had to palm himself quickly to get some relief.
Ed slid another finger in beside the first, using Stede’s vocal responses to gauge whether he was ready or not. Stede was trembling, his entire body strung out like a guitar string right before it snapped, and Ed could feel every speck of tension in him. It was erotic as fuck, Stede Bonnet naked on his bed and completely undone with the few touches that Ed was laying on him. He would never get tired of this.
He worked his fingers inside of him, the litany of curses and prayers falling from Stede’s lips a beautiful mantra that he tried to commit to memory. His own name, honorifics, superlatives… they all fell like water.
“Are you ready?” Stede was trembling and Ed knew he wouldn’t last very long once he entered him. His own cock was so hard he felt like he might die, and he knew he wouldn’t last long either. It wouldn’t be a long drawn out session of making love like he planned, but it wasn’t a quick fuck in the dark either. “Take a deep breath.” Ed whispered, kissing his stomach as he shifted position, rolling a condom over himself and lining up.
Stede almost folded in half at the blunt pressure against his entrance. He moaned so loudly and so sinfully that Ed felt his dick twitch in response, almost overwhelming him. Ed let out a shaky breath, holding still as long as he could before the tight, hot pressure of Stede around him was too much. He rolled his hips once, experimenting with how much Stede could take. Stede’s hands folded into the bedsheets, back arching at the pleasure rolling through him. Carefully, Ed began to thrust in a sloppy rhythm, one hand on Stede’s hip and the other caressing his weeping cock. It wouldn’t be long for either of them - already the telltale white rush of release was flickering at the edge of Ed’s vision.
“Edward…” Stede’s voice was little more than a breathy buzz, eyes screwed closed and hands tangled in the sheets so hard that his knuckles were white with the tension. Ed used Stede’s precome to slick his hand, jerking him off in time with his thrusts. He could feel the pressure building in his gut, a white-hot ball that curled and uncurled, tightening and coiling as he got closer. Stede was wrecked, sweat-soaked and flushed. Ed kept jerking him, hips rolling deeper and deeper until Stede, with a deep and throaty cry that was almost a sob, came violently, painting Ed’s tanned skin with his release.
“Fuck.” Ed whispered, thrusting twice more and then coming apart too, his hands bruising Stede’s hips as he rode the wave. His chest was heaving, his injured knee was screaming , but he dropped down onto the bed beside Stede and lightly traced patterns on his heaving stomach. He watched Stede carefully, wary to have pushed too far, to have been too much and almost expecting Stede to constrict into himself the way he did when he was nervous. Stede didn’t. He lay, placid and boneless on the sheets, his heartbeat roaring in his ears as he came down from the high.
“I always thought I didn’t like sex.” Stede whispered quietly, his soft brown eyes opening and focussing blearily on Ed lying beside him. Ed stifled a laugh, shifting so that he could get up and grab a cloth to clean them both down with.
“I think your problem was that you were having sex with the wrong person, mate.” He returned, cloth in hand. Stede marvelled at how gentle he was when he cleaned them both up, barely even touching the oversensitive skin as he mopped up the semen and sweat from both of their stomachs and hands. The condom had been thrown in the bin, neatly tied up just before Ed stood up.
“I think that’s definitely the case.” Stede agreed, rolling over and gazing at Ed through eyes that were now clouded by a film of exhaustion. “You’ll be here when I wake up?” Ed nodded, wrapping his arms around Stede and burying his face in the hair on the top of his head. Neither man spoke after that, tangling legs and arms together until they both fell into the post-sex haze of exhaustion.
Almost a year later, Pride weekend rolled around again.
This time, Stede joined the parade with his own flag that Lucius had ordered him almost a year ago, hand in hand with Edward Teach.