Archive of Our Own ^beta

Izzy

Izzy begged Frenchie to let him stay on the ship instead of accompanying Bonnet, Edward, and half the crew to visit Bonnet’s unlucky children. “Either they’ll be just like him and drive me madder than I already am, or they’ll be the opposite of him and make him miserable,” he told Frenchie. 

“I need someone to keep track of the crew. You know how we wander off.” 

Frenchie’s no Edward, but he’s Izzy’s Captain, and Izzy respects him as such. So here he is, climbing the long drive to Mary Alamby’s estate. He would have left his cane behind, only Captain Frenchie ordered him to bring it. Izzy will never admit it, but the extra support makes the hike easier on his residual leg. 

Much like a parent duck with ducklings, Izzy keeps taking a head count of all the crew as they approach the mansion. Edward is uncharacteristically bringing up the rear. Bonnet keeps darting between checking in with him and bounding ahead of everyone - like a puppy, or a child. Izzy wishes he didn’t feel so bloody fond every time he spots Bonnet’s fluffy golden hair bouncing with each step. 

The mansion’s wrapped with a whitewashed covered porch. A swing hangs near the front door. Stede runs to it but stops before he knocks. Izzy watches his fist hang in the air in front of the door. He watches Stede’s brow furrow and shoulders hunch. 

“Fuck’s sake,” Izzy grumbles. “I have to do everything myself.” He reaches around Stede and raps his knuckles on the wood. 

A blond child yanks the door open and tackles Stede. He stumbles but recovers, carrying the child inside as another child jumps on his back. “Stede, Stede, Stede,” they chant. 

“Don’t strangle him,” a woman just inside the doorway laughs. “Really, Alma, watch his neck.” She peers out at the crew. “Did you bring everyone from your ship?” Stede doesn’t answer; he’s being lovingly strangled by his children. Mary sighs and gestures for everyone to come in. The crew spills through the door. 

When Edward tries to come inside, Mary stops him with a hand in front of his chest. “Not you,” she says. Her voice is so aggressively cheerful that it registers as cold. Izzy stops. He catches Ed’s eye. Edward may not be his captain anymore, but if Ed gives him an order, he’s likely to obey it. Edward glances at Mary, then at Stede, who’s got a child swinging from each arm. He shakes his head at Izzy. 

“No problem,” he says to Mary. “Your house, your rules.” He closes the door before she can. 

The crew drop their bags in the doorway, tramp through the house in their sandy boots, and start picking objects up off of the shelves. Archie runs up the stairs two at a time and climbs on the banister. Izzy raises his eyebrows at Stede, but he’s still preoccupied with his delighted children.

Izzy cups his hands around his mouth. “Oi,” he yells. “Crew of the Revenge!” No response. Typical. Izzy puts two fingers to his lips and whistles. “Fucking fuckers!” he roars. 

The crew freezes. Archie slowly slides down the banister and dismounts in front of Izzy. “Aye-aye?” she says. Jim elbows her in the ribs. Izzy wishes Oluwande were here instead of back on the ship - he’s the most reasonable human in that relationship. 

Izzy’s tempted to ream Archie out, but he knows from experience that Archie delights in any attention, no matter how negative. No wonder Ed recruited her. Izzy’s also aware of the Alamby-Bonnet-Doug family watching his every move. “Were we to board a friendly ship, would you leave your shit in a pile and get your grubby hands all over things?” 

“I mean, it is us,” Pete says. “So like…probably?” 

“Not on Zheng’s fleet,” Jim says. 

“Yeah, Zheng would kill us if we made a mess of her place,” Archie says. 

Izzy grinds his teeth. He spots Bonnet’s youngest watching him out of the corner of one eye and tempers his voice the best he can. “Then pretend this house is Zheng’s ship. Act right .” 

“Yeah, quit embarrassing Izzy,” Lucius says. Izzy flips him the bird. Lucius blows a kiss. 

Jim’s the first to obey, collecting their things and returning to the door to kick the sand off their boots. They stop in front of Mary on their way back in. “Sorry.” 

“Yeah, sorry for fucking up your bannister,” Archie says. 

“It’s okay,” Bonnet’s oldest pipes up. “We slide down it all the time.” 

“They do,” Mary admits. 

“Still,” Izzy grumbles. “D’you have any brooms around here? They all know how to sweep, even if they pretend to me not to.” 

Mary directs Izzy to some servants - “well paid,” Jim says to Izzy in an undertone, “here of their own volition, don’t worry, I already asked them,” which makes Izzy feel slightly more comfortable in this posh nightmare. The crew makes quick work of the front hall. Then Mary ushers them all into the sitting room for proper introductions. 

When Izzy glances out the window, Edward’s standing on the porch like a stray dog. 

“Now Mary,” Stede says, “really, he’s not bad at all.” 

Lucius makes a skeptical sound. When Izzy glares at him, Archie chimes in with “ehh, yeah, but he’s Blackbeard.” 

“You’re all an embarrassment,” Izzy snaps. “I can’t take you anywhere.” 

Mary and Doug both snort. “You sound like me,” Mary says. “I’m Mary, by the way. This is my husband Doug.” 

Izzy hadn’t realized that he would have to shake hands with Stede’s ex-wife. She’s got a firm handshake, not all limp like Stede’s was before Izzy trained him. “Izzy Hands,” he says. “First mate of the Revenge, currently serving under Captain French.” 

“We voted Stede out of his captaincy,” Lucius says. 

Izzy’s frayed temper snaps. He grabs Lucius by his earlobe. He squeezes until Lucius starts up a whiny ow ow ow. “I will personally escort you back to the ship, Spriggs.” 

“Hot.” 

“ Barnacle duty. ” 

“Excuse me, did you say you voted my dad out?” Bonnet’s oldest demands. “As in off the ship?” 

“Oh, nah, don’t worry, mate,” Archie says, crouching in front of the kid. The kid looks to be about 12, and she glares at Archie. “We wouldn’t kick Stede off the ship! He just sucked as a captain.” 

Stede makes a strangled sound. Izzy opens his mouth to defend him - honestly, Bonnet wasn’t that bad by the end of his tenure - but Stede claps his hands together and says, “How about some icebreakers so we can all get to know each other?” Izzy decides he doesn’t feel like defending Stede after all. 

The crew and Bonnet’s strange little family survive Stede’s ill-conceived get-to-know-you games. Sometimes when Izzy looks outside at Edward, he’s pacing, hands clasped behind his back; other times he’s leaning against one of the posts, the wind blowing his silver-streaked curls. Stede keeps trying to ask Mary about Edward, and she keeps deflecting. Izzy’s stomach coils like a rope on deck. 

“Children, why don’t you show Stede your new playroom?” Mary says meaningfully. “Doug, maybe go with them to help wrangle?” 

The children grab Stede by his wrists and haul him away. Doug brings up the rear. Archie takes off after them, calling, “Is it a playroom for big kids, too?” Jim groans and follows. 

“Mr. Hands,” Mary says. She sits next to Izzy on the couch and nudges a pouf over to him. She gives his residual leg a meaningful look. Izzy’s pride wars with how much the damn thing aches. The pain wins out, and he props his leg on the pouf. 

“Thank you for your hospitality,” Izzy says. “Though I have to wonder why it doesn’t extend to Edward, seeing as he’s Stede’s man. You have your new man here - why can’t Stede?” 

Mary shakes her head slightly. “We’ve seen the wanted posters. Not all of that can be exaggeration.” 

Izzy shrugs. “Can’t it?” 

“Don’t fuck with me,” Mary snaps. 

Izzy’s startled enough by her cursing that he feels cowed. “He’s not a threat to you or your children. He’s fuckin’ lovesick over Stede. He’d do anything for him.” 

“He’s Blackbeard!” 

“And I was his right hand for two and a half decades. Did all his killing for him until he decided he didn’t mind getting his hands dirty a year ago,” Izzy says. That brings Mary up short. She looks Izzy over again. Her gaze catches on his leg. He grits his teeth. “Didn’t always have that.” 

“Well,” Mary recovers, “but you aren’t in love with Stede. It’s different.” 

Izzy should shake his head, or say something, but his blasted voice gets caught in his throat. Mary notices. “Oh. Oh no.” 

Izzy tries to say “fuck off” and “absolutely not” at the same time. What comes out is a strangled sound. He presses his eyes with his hands. “I won’t tell you what to do with your own home,” Izzy says. “But Edward’s stubborn. He’ll be on your porch every day that we’re here. And Stede and I will both be sleeping outside with him.” 

“He can sleep in the shed,” Mary says as if that’s an improvement. 

“Hmph,” Izzy says. He levers himself up from the couch. “I’d better check on the kids. Mine, not yours. Not - not actually mine - ”

Mary grins. “Close enough, hey? Go on. They should be just upstairs.” 

#

Stede

Stede’s so overwhelmed with emotions - joy at being with the kids, anxiety about staying with Mary, and frustration that Ed’s been relegated to the outdoors with no consideration of Stede’s feelings whatsoever - that he doesn’t even realize part of the crew has accompanied him, the kids, and Doug to the playroom until Archie crouches in front of the doll house. “It’s got little tiny people in it,” she marvels. “Weird.” 

“Those are my dolls,” Louis says, letting go of Stede’s hand and kneeling beside Archie to point all of them out by name. Louis is the height Stede remembers Alma being, and Alma’s sprouted to be taller than her mother. She’s currently sidling up to Jim, who’s staring around the playroom in stunned disbelief. 

“Are you a boy or a girl?” Alma asks. 

“No,” Jim says firmly. “I’m just Jim, okay? Not a boy, not a girl. Just Jim.” 

“I’m just Louis,” Louis volunteers. Stede’s heart lurches with more of that mingled joy and anxiety. 

“No you’re not,” Alma says. 

“Yes I am.”

“You don’t even know what that means!” 

“Yes I do.” 

“Okay,” Stede and Doug interject at the same time. They glance at each other. Doug smiles. Stede narrows his eyes. No Dadding on Stede’s watch, Doug. When Doug keeps quiet, Stede says, “Alma, let Louis tell you who he is - who they are? Louis, what words do you like for yourself, do you know? My friend Jim here calls themself ‘they’ instead of ‘he’ or ‘she’.” 

“I’m just Louis,” Louis insists. 

Stede nods. “Then that’s that. No fussing, Alma.” 

Alma huffs and flops onto a pile of dress-up clothes. 

“Do you like being a pirate?” Louis asks the room at large. 

“Sometimes,” Archie says as she makes a toy horse gallop across the roof of the dollhouse. “Sometimes it’s really boring, a lot of just sailing around. Raids can be fun, though. But they’re super dangerous, you really have to know your way around a blade. Like Jim, they’re wicked good.”  

“Eh, I’m okay,” Jim says. They blush when Archie winks at them. “Not nearly as good as Izzy, though.” 

Alma sits up. “Ooh, is that the scary one?” she asks eagerly. 

A familiar uneven gait echoes down the hall. “Who are you calling scary?” Izzy calls as he limps into the playroom. He looks around with his lip curled slightly. “What is this?”

“Izzy!” Stede says. He cringes internally when his voice sounds as eager as he feels. “Good of you to join us!” His words are drowned out by Archie making the toy horse neigh. 

“Christ,” Izzy says. Stede catches the flash of his smile. He winks at Izzy. Izzy scowls. That surly expression makes Stede’s heart flutter the way Ed’s dimples do. 

If only Izzy felt the same about him. Stede knows being in a relationship isn’t easy; he and Ed have had their ups and downs. And balancing multiple people in one relationship has its fair share of struggles, if Jim, Oluwande, Archie, and Zheng are anything to go by. But Stede knows how well he and Izzy work as friends. And Ed and Izzy - well, if anything, Ed and Izzy are closer to being true friends than they were when Stede met them. Any day now, they’ll quit dancing around each other and realize that their love is mutual. Stede’s sure of it. The plot of every romance novel can’t be wrong. 

Unfortunately, his own feelings for Izzy are…less requited. Stede knows he’s shown his hand a million times, most recently when he read love sonnets at open mic night.  Calling the love interest a sparrow? Referencing the North Star? Stede thought he was being clear. 

Izzy’s only response was to criticize his rhyme scheme. As if Izzy knows the first thing about love sonnets, honestly. 

Oh, well. Such is life, Stede supposes. He’s lucky to have a friend as loyal as Izzy, and blessed beyond measure that Ed’s welcomed him back into his heart. Poor Edward, out on the porch. Perhaps Mary’s having a conversation with him now. Mary was so delighted for Stede when he told her he was in love with Ed a year ago. Stede can’t imagine what’s changed since then. 

“Oi, Bonnet,” Izzy says. “D’you know your ex-wife’s got Edward sleeping in a shed?” 

Stede’s thoughts screech to a halt. “I’m sorry, what?” 

Alma whistles. “Well, fuck.” 

#

Ed

Ed can hear Stede and his ex-wife arguing all the way on the porch. The tone makes his heart hammer in his chest. Which is ridiculous - he’s a pirate, he’s been around a lot worse than a spat. 

If Ed were to examine his thoughts more closely, he might recall a time when he had scabby knees and no beard, and hearing a man and a woman at odds over him meant trouble. He lights his pipe and blows smoke rings. One of the stories Stede’s told lately involves a wizard who can make smoke rings into ships and dragons. Ed wonders idly if that’s just a fictional wizard trick or something he might learn to do. Probably just fiction, but Ed’s met a sea witch or two in his day. Anything’s possible. 

The front door slams open, and Stede’s ex-wife strides onto the porch. “This is why we can’t be married,” she yells over her shoulder. “You never listen.” 

“Also I like men,” Stede yells back. Ed stifles a snort. Mary makes eye contact with him, and this weirdly tangible energy passes between them. Ed’s not always as good at reading people as he pretends, but at least for him it’s a moment of recognition: Oh, you’re the other person who got fucked over by Stede Bonnet. 

The moment passes. Mary takes a deep breath. “I’m not comfortable having you in my house,” she says. “Stede should explain your sleeping arrangements for the week. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to throw paint at a canvas until I feel less like throwing it at Stede.” She hurries off the porch and to an outbuilding.

Ed salutes her retreating figure with his pipe. “Cheers,” he says. What else can he say? Not being welcome in Stede’s old home, with Stede’s family, settles like lead in his gut. The part of him that’s contrary as fuck wants to go right into the house. 

But Ed’s the child of a mum who couldn’t draw a boundary. He respects Mary for speaking up. Besides, he’s heard some of Stede’s stories about Mary. He doesn’t fancy getting stabbed in the ear. 

Stede shuffles onto the porch, head hanging. Ed reaches for Stede, and Stede rests his forehead against Ed’s shoulder with an exhausted sigh. “That bad, mate?” Ed says softly. He ruffles Stede’s fluffy hair. 

“She’s having you sleep in the shed,” Stede mumbles. “I’m sorry, Ed, I really tried. I guess when I told her I was in love with you a year ago, I wasn’t exactly clear that ‘Ed’ meant ‘Blackbeard?’ And some of your wanted posters have made their way here….” 

“Pfft. Did you tell her how much they exaggerate shit?” 

Stede clears his throat. “She may have also, ah, connected the dots about Izzy’s leg.” 

The floor feels like it’s falling away from Ed. “Oh.” He tries not to think about Izzy’s leg, even though Izzy says there’s nothing to think about. Ed’s…well, he’s obviously not better than all that. Maybe even worse than Hornigold because at least Hornigold never pretended to be anything he wasn’t. Hornigold never tried to be a better man, only to fuck it up so badly that he maimed a guy for loving him. 

“...shed shouldn’t have any spiders,” Stede says. Ed shakes himself. 

“I can deal with spiders,” Ed says, even if he really doesn’t want to. “Hey, might be nice to have some space to ourselves anyway. Bet your kids would kick me out of your bed in the house so they could cuddle with their dad.” 

“That’s the other thing, the kids. Mary and Doug…don’t want you hanging around them without supervision. And apparently I don’t count.” 

Okay, that rankles. Ed forces himself not to show it, though. This is Stede’s trip, and his kids are lucky little bastards who have a caring dad. 

“Sure,” Ed says. “Whatever you need me to do, mate. Show me our digs?” 

The front door creaks open. Izzy comes outside with his pack slung over his shoulder. He leans on his cane. “Alright, where’s this fucking shed?” Ed raises his eyebrows at him. Izzy raises his eyebrows right back. “What, you didn’t think I’d let you sleep in there alone, did you?” 

“Wouldn’t have been alone, Stede’s coming too.” 

“Hmph. Still.” Izzy pokes Stede in the ankle with his cane. Stede yelps dramatically. Ed hides his grin in his beard. He loves how they flirt, even when they don’t realize they’re flirting. They’re just like kids. He’s happy for them, even if he’s jealous. Maybe Stede will be willing to share some stories about Izzy once he finally makes a real move. Ed can always hope. 

Stede leads Ed and Izzy down the hill, past Mary’s art studio. Ed glances through the open door to discover that she’s literally flinging paint at the canvas. Her guy Doug and Black Pete are watching. Stede keeps going, all the way to the far side of the property. 

“Here it is,” he sighs, gesturing to a building that he obviously sees as run-down and horrible but in reality is bigger than Ed’s childhood home by several measures. Izzy exchanges a look with Ed that indicates he’s thinking the same. 

Stede pushes open the door to reveal…well, a pretty normal house. There’s a little area for cooking, a bed large enough for two friendly people, and a back door leading to the outhouse. There’s even a bookshelf. 

“There’s only one bed,” Stede says. 

“It’s a shed, mate, I thought there would be zero beds.” Ed drops his knapsack on the floor and flops on the cot with his boots still on. “Not bad, really. Come try it out.” 

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” Izzy says. 

Ed winces. Izzy hasn’t slept on the floor since he started as Ed’s first mate, and definitely not since Ed blew his leg off. “You don’t have to stay,” Ed says. “Mary didn’t banish either of you here, did she? Just me.” 

Izzy snorts. “Sod that, you’re not sleeping alone in a strange place without a guard.” 

“Izzy’s absolutely right,” Stede says. “This community is nosy as all get out. I’m sure whispers of Blackbeard have already spread.” 

That raises Ed’s hackles. “You think I can’t handle my own shit?” 

Stede responds easily: “You don’t have to anymore.” 

It’s trite. Cheesy. Ed melts. “Okay,” he says. And that’s that. 

#

Izzy

The blanket nest on the floor in the shed is a nightmare. Izzy’s decades too old to be sleeping rough, though his youthful self would have laughed aloud to hear a pile of blankets under a well-kept roof called “rough.” Izzy tosses and turns while Edward and Stede snore away in the bed.  

As a young man, he’d not minded the idea of death so much as long as it involved going out in a blaze of glory rather than rotting in some gutter. “Recent events,” as Bonnet so loves to say, have put his mortality into perspective. Give it a few more years, and Izzy might not bounce back from a major amputation. It’s a bloody miracle he survived Jim and Archie’s amateur surgery as it is. 

So why is he wasting his borrowed time pining after two men who are disgustingly in love with each other? 

It doesn’t matter. If anyone broke into this shed intending to harm them, they’d be dead before they even noticed Izzy on the floor. 

Izzy’s stiff as a board the next morning. He drags himself up to the main house. He must look as bedraggled as he feels. Jim grimaces when they see him. “Shut up,” Izzy says before they can talk. “What’s the plan for today, do you know?” 

Jim shrugs. “It’s vacation, right? We’re just hanging out.” 

“Ugh, fuck that.” 

“Yeah, that sounds about right. I dunno, the Bonnet kids really wanted me to come to the beach with them. You could come too, help me make sure they don’t drown.” 

Izzy’s not a kid person, he doesn’t think, but at least this way he’ll have a clear objective. “Fine,” he grumbles. “But I’m not swimming.” 

Stede fucking Bonnet dunks him in the ocean as soon as they get to the beach. Izzy goes down like a rock, spluttering around a mouth of sea water. He surfaces roaring curses, only to realize that Alma and Louis are watching him with delight. 

“Yeah, Stede,” Alma hollers, “don’t be a backstabbing bastard!” 

Jim runs over to rescue Izzy, but Alma gets there first. She holds out a hand to Izzy. Izzy’s skin prickles with embarrassment, but he lets her help him to his feet. 

“D’you see this fucking anchor on me?” Izzy demands of Stede, gesturing at his prosthetic. “Does this look capable of swimming to you?” 

Stede’s face falls. He ducks his head. “I didn’t think.”

Jim scowls at him. “When do you ever?” 

Izzy’s not going to feel guilty for pointing out when Stede’s being a reckless idiot. Still, he finds himself looking out at the waves. He hasn’t been swimming in well over a year. Not all pirates can swim, but Izzy’s always made sure his crew is capable - what a fool’s way to die, sinking like a stone. He finds himself longing for the way the salty water buoys him. 

“If you laugh at me, I’ll gut you,” Izzy says. He means it for Stede, but Alma is the one who salutes him sharply. Izzy sits on the sand at the edge of the beach and eases off his prosthetic. “Louis, put this up with the picnic basket,” he orders. Louis carries the prosthetic up to the picnic blanket with the determination of a child pleased to be given a task by an adult they idolize. 

Izzy strips out of his leathers, though he leaves on his light shirt and his underthings in deference to modesty. The children are already in their swim clothes, so when Izzy eases himself back into the water, the children are right alongside him. They tackle Stede into the waves. Jim follows them, spouting water out of their mouth. 

Meanwhile, Izzy rolls onto his back, closes his eyes, and floats. He’s sure he’ll be off-balance once he tries to swim properly, but floating feels the same as always. The gulls crying overhead could be any gulls - the ones that circled near his childhood home, the ones Ed used to feed when he was a mischievous cabin boy. Maybe one of these ones is Buttons. 

Water splashes near Izzy. He opens his eyes and finds Stede treading water next to him. His hair’s darker with water in it, closer to light brown than blond. “I really am sorry,” he says. 

Izzy shakes his head slightly. “Why aren’t you playing with your kids?” 

“Ah, Alma went to build a sandcastle with Jim, and Louis’ collecting shells for me.” 

“They’re good kids,” Izzy says; then, a little grudgingly, he adds, “They take after you.” 

Stede blinks rapidly. Izzy splashes water in his face to make him laugh. He ignores how delicious that laugh sounds. 

#

Edward

Izzy and Stede take the kids swimming in the ocean. Ed…sits around twiddling his thumbs. He said yesterday that he didn’t mind, but of course that was a fucking lie. This is supposed to be his vacation. His first time meeting his almost-stepkids, too. And what, he’s not allowed to be alone with them? 

The kids, Jim, Stede, and Izzy tramp back up from the beach for lunch. They’re all soaking wet and grinning. Izzy’s going a little slower than the others. Stede’s youngest runs back to walk with him, tucked under his arm. Edward’s stomach churns.

Once the others have settled in for lunch, Ed knocks on the main house’s door. Mary opens it and peers out at him. 

“Ms. Alamby,” Ed tries. 

“I know how to kill someone,” Mary says. 

“Practical life skill.” Ed wilts under Mary’s icy gaze. He doesn’t know how to communicate all the anxiety and resentment swirling around his brain without making her hate him more. “I never wanted to be the kind of guy a mum would need to protect their kids from, y’know? I grew up with one of those. Not bloody optimal.” 

Mary rubs her temples. “I’m not a pirate counselor by trade, right? I can’t sort out your problems.” 

“Nah, I wouldn’t want you to anyway.” 

“Then why are you here?” 

“The crew told on me to you, didn’t they?” 

“I already was going to have you stay out there for a night while I sorted out how safe you’d be for the kids. But yeah, Pete and Lucius let me know what you’ve done.” 

Edward gets the sense that no explanation will satisfy Mary enough to let him in the house. Still, he tries. “I fucked up. I can admit that. I was…out of control. Not quite right.” Ed taps the side of his head. “For a while I didn’t see the point in trying to be better if I couldn’t make up for the way I was before. But I’m trying now. And if me sleeping in a shed means Stede gets time with those kids, then,” Ed shrugs. “I’ve slept worse places. So’s Izzy. Not sure about Stede, but he can learn.” 

Mary hums thoughtfully. “At least you’re all three together, yeah?” Edward can’t quite make out her meaning. His brain and heart want to assume - well, they want to assume a lot of shit, all the time. That’s his problem. 

“Can I have lunch?” Ed asks. “I’d go fish, but I’m shit at fishing.” 

That startles a snort out of Mary. “Stede’ll bring something out to you.” 

…

They carry on like that for a good portion of the week: Stede and Izzy adventuring with the kids, often accompanied by Jim and Archie, who Ed thinks of as Izzy’s weird feral children. Jim wears one of Izzy’s gloves like a badge of honor. They’ve been teaching the kids how to use a knife, alongside Izzy. They sometimes practice near the porch. Ed hangs around and watches. He tries to keep from making too much commentary - he doesn’t want to distract the kids when they’re not used to holding stabby objects. He wishes he had Lucius’ drawing skills. Someone needs to capture these moments when Izzy’s so visibly proud of Stede’s kids. 

But the boy hates Ed, and besides which he and Pete have been spending most of their time in Mary’s art studio with her - or hanging around Doug. Pete and Lucius have been pretty friendly with Doug, there are some regular arse-pats happening. Mary seems pretty observant, so Ed figures it must be a regular thing with her and her boyfriend. And good for them! At least someone’s having fun on this holiday. Ed’s sure as fuck not. 

On Tuesday, Izzy wakes up so visibly in pain that Ed’s body hurts. “I need to sleep on the bed,” Izzy grinds out. “Limp’s worse than it was before I had a prosthetic.” 

Edward grimaces. He feels like a dick for forgetting that. “We’ll fit up here, no worries.” 

“I could sleep on the floor,” Stede offers tentatively. 

Izzy waves him off. “If Edward says we’ll fit, we’ll fit.” 

“Oh thank god, I didn’t really want to,” Stede says. Izzy rolls his eyes. Ed feels like all his emotions are going to bubble over from watching them together. He shoves a lid down on them tight. A vacation’s no time for stupid shit like love. 

The whole bed-sharing thing seems like a great plan until it’s bedtime. Then the three of them shuffle around, nobody making eye contact. Finally, Stede huffs. “Well, I’m lying down,” he says. He scoots over to one side, pulls his sleep mask over his eyes, and knocks out. 

“I’ll take the outside,” Izzy mumbles. He won’t look at Ed. Is it the lighting, or are his cheeks a little pink? Nah, has to be the lighting. Maybe Izzy had love for Ed before Ed fucked up his leg permanently, but there’s no way those feelings survived. Is he scared to share a bed? Can’t be, can he? He’s Izzy Hands. Izzy Hands isn’t afraid of anything. 

Ed thinks Izzy Hands might be afraid of some things. That realization fires up his own nerves. 

“I could sleep on the floor,” he starts. 

“Shut up,” Izzy says. He snaps his fingers and points at the bed. “You in the middle. Me on the outside. If you shove me off the bed in your sleep, I’m waking you up to return the favor.” 

Ed spoons Stede, cuddled as close as possible to give Izzy plenty of room. Izzy sleeps on his back like a fucking corpse. Ed remembers that from…from a bad night he doesn’t want to remember. 

Ed dreams that Izzy’s holding him the way he’s holding Stede. When he wakes up, Izzy’s still flat on his back, but one of his hands rests on Ed’s hip. 

Ed burns. 

#

Stede

Stede underestimated how much work a holiday would be. The moment the children and crew have dispersed from front porch storytime on the fourth evening of the trip, Stede lies down on the porch. He listens to the night creatures and the waves. His whole body’s heavy with exhaustion. He doesn’t understand why - it’s not as if he’s been hauling ropes or swabbing the deck every day the way he does on the Revenge now that he’s one of the crew. 

Maybe that’s the trouble. Stede rarely gets the opportunity to rest anymore. Now that he’s on land, his body senses its chance to force him to stop moving. He understands why Izzy never slows down. 

The front door creaks open. “Are you dead?” Mary asks. 

“I’m certainly considering it,” Stede mumbles into the porch planks. 

“The drama. Your children are just like you.” Mary sits beside Stede. When he looks over at her, she smiles, more relaxed around him than he’s ever seen her. He can’t help but to smile back. 

“Thank you for letting me see them,” he says earnestly. “I really am sorry it’s taken me this long. We had…some trouble on the ship.” 

“Oh, I’ve heard.” 

“It wasn’t all Edward’s fault,” Stede says. He wrings his hands. “It may have been mostly his fault, but some of the blame lies with me. I’m not good at communication.” He gives Mary a hopeful look. “I don’t suppose you have any tips about that?” 

Mary rubs her temples. “I dunno, Stede, maybe ask your whole boat full of friends?” 

Stede nearly says “we’re not friends like that,” but even though no one from the crew is listening in - at least he assumes they’re not, though one might not want to assume with such nosy pirates around - he feels guilty for thinking it. His crew are his friends, even with the strangeness that an former employer-employee friendship occasionally causes. “ You’ve already tried to kill me. It’s not as though I could say anything to make you hate me more.” 

Mary heaves a massive sigh. “You know, I hate it when you have a point?”

“Izzy’s said something similar.” 

Mary sighs. “Bless Izzy for wanting to be in love with you, I cannot imagine.” 

Stede’s face heats up. “Oh, Izzy’s not - that is to say -” 

Mary holds up a hand. “You get all sappy over Blackbeard, who literally tormented your crew and tried to drown Lucius - ”

Stede blinks. “How did you know - ”

“Pete and I had a whole talk.” Mary flaps a hand at Stede. “I’ve had half a conversation with Izzy and can tell how loyal he is to you. Wait, is that what scares you?” 

“What? I’m not scared.” 

“You can impress Blackbeard with grand gestures, can’t you? All that romantic stuff. Izzy strikes me as a guy who wants something real. That solid kind of foundation. Like what I have with Doug.” 

“Ugh, Doug.” 

Stede’s reaction startles a laugh out of Mary. “I will never understand how jealous you are. You built a whole pirate ship to escape me! Poor Doug. Maybe you’ll like him someday.” 

Stede sniffs. “Maybe.” He shoves down the ugly feeling in his chest and hopes it doesn’t show on his face. 

“Okay, I am too not-married to you to be solving any of your problems. Quit moping and go up to say good night to the children. Oh, you’re watching them tomorrow, by the way,” Mary says. “Doug and I have plans with Pete.” 

“I am?” Stede says. Mary skewers him with a look. “Oh, yes, fine, I am.” 

When Stede gets up to the children’s floor, Louis is wearing what appears to be one of Alma’s nightgowns. Izzy’s fixing a bow in Louis’ hair. He leans to one side, then the other, examining his work. “There you go. May or may not hold up through you sleeping, depending on if you toss and turn like your father.” 

“I don’t toss and turn,” Stede protests. 

“And he snores,” Izzy tells Louis with a frankly mischievous look in Stede’s direction. Stede’s face heats at the realization that Izzy’s teasing him. 

“I didn’t know pirates could tie bows,” Louis says. 

“Of course we can, we spend all bloody day tying knots.” 

“Louis,” Stede says. “Your mum sent me up here to tell you good night, but would you like one more story before bed?” 

Louis lights up. “A long one?” 

Stede knows what he should say as a responsible parent. Fortunately for him, he’s here to be fun, not responsible. “Sure. Say good night to Izzy first so he can turn in.” 

Stede expects a friendly wave. Instead, Louis turns and hugs Izzy. Izzy startles. Louis doesn’t let go. Slowly, with the manner of someone approached by a strange animal, Izzy reaches down and strokes Louis’ hair. 

“Make Stede tell you about the cursed jacket,” Izzy says. “That’s a good one.” 

Louis lights up. “Cursed jacket?” 

“Izzy,” Stede groans. Izzy grins. He pats Stede’s arse as he leaves the room. 

#

Izzy

Izzy’s plan is to flop straight onto the bed the moment he gets to the shed. Edward’s been waiting out on the porch for Stede every night, so he figures he’ll get a few uninterrupted minutes of solo bed time before Stede and his snoring and Ed and his whimpering show up. 

(Ed’s always cried in his sleep. Izzy’s never known what to do about it. Last night he discovered that a simple touch to Ed’s hip made him settle. He laid awake like that for an hour, rubbing his thumb against Ed’s hipbone when he stirred and feeling for all the world like he was taking advantage.) 

But when Izzy enters the shed, Ed’s looming just inside. “Jesus Christ,” Izzy swears. He wallops Ed’s shoulder the way he does when Stede startles him. He freezes when he realizes what he’s done. Fear makes his heart rabbit. 

He hates it. In all those decades as Edward’s first mate, he was never afraid of him, not once. He doesn’t want to be afraid. He wants - ”

“What do you want, mate?” Ed says softly, and Izzy’s mortified to realize he must have said something aloud. 

“It’s never mattered what I wanted before, has it?” Izzy demands.

“I’m trying to be better, you stubborn fucking arse. How the fuck did we not try to kill each other earlier? Christ. I really am trying,” Ed says miserably as his own tone hits him. “So just finish the sentence, okay? What do you want, Iz? Whatever it is, I’ll get it for you.” 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” Izzy shakes his head. “I was going to say…I want to be better. I’ve been trying. Slept in the same bed with you, didn’t I?” 

Ed swallows. “You touched me, too. While you were sleeping. It probably wasn’t on purpose. ” Edward blinks. “I wish it was.” 

Izzy scoffs. He can hear his heart in his ears. “Don’t. I’m not going to be a distraction from how much you hate being exiled out here. That’s what your boyfriend is for.” He’s aware he sounds bitter. He knows what he is to Edward. Edward answered that question with a gun. 

“Do you know how hard it is to watch you with Stede?” Edward asks in a low voice. “See how you touch him so comfortably, how you look at him. How you tease him.” Ed’s jaw trembles. “I wanted that for so long, and I was too thick to realize you might want it too, and now it’s too late and the only way you touch me is when we’re forced to share a bed.” 

Izzy’s ears ring. “Tread carefully,” he says. His hands tremble. He folds them behind his back. “I’m not the same man I was before we met Bonnet. I’m too old to go along with lies.” 

Edward’s hands are shaking just as badly as Izzy’s when he cradles Izzy’s jaw. “You can believe whatever you want after this. Just…just let me….” 

Izzy expects a kiss. He dreads it. A kiss would feel like one of Ed’s dramatic acts. Instead, Edward wraps his arms around Izzy and draws him into an embrace. He rocks Izzy, almost like a dance. He rests his trembling mouth against the crown of Izzy’s head. 

A kiss would feel like a lie. An embrace feels so honest that it hurts. 

Edward cares about him, and wants him, and Izzy doesn’t know what to do with any of that. 

Edward’s also half-hard against Izzy’s thigh. That’s easier to acknowledge. 

Izzy backs Edward onto the bed. Ed stumbles before he lands. “What the fuck, mate,” he says. 

“Shut up,” Izzy orders, and wonder of wonders Edward does. It’s a bitch of a thing to straddle someone in the prosthetic, Izzy quickly discovers. He unbuckles it and sets it aside, then swings a leg over Edward’s lap again. Edward’s enormous brown eyes gaze up at him in wonder. “Fuck you and your eyes,” Izzy tells him. “Would be sailing a nice merchant ship if it weren’t for those eyes.” 

“Please, you were a pirate before I even went to sea.” 

“Could’ve gotten out. I have it on good authority that I could have made it as a bard. But those eyes.” Izzy strokes his thumb over Ed’s freckled cheek. Is it his imagination, or is Ed’s smile just a little shy? He kisses him with command, expecting Edward to nip at his mouth or flip him over to take control. Instead, Edward lets Izzy guide him. 

“I fucking love your beard,” Edward mumbles against Izzy’s mouth. “Love how rough it is. Always wondered what it would feel like to kiss you with it.” 

“Don’t lie.” 

“I’m not. I’ve been wondering ever since you first took that potion from that sea witch.” Edward nibbles at Izzy’s jaw. Izzy tilts his head to the side to give him better access. “You got so fuckin’ hairy so fast. I just wanted to touch you all over. You just seemed so…so fuckin’ untouchable.”

“How can the smartest man I’ve ever known be so fucking stupid,” Izzy muses. “I wasn’t your shadow for 27 years just because you were my captain.” 

“Well, I know that now. ” Edward bites Izzy’s bottom lip this time. Izzy threads his fingers through Ed’s hair, as close to the roots as he can get, and tugs. Edward lets out a rumbling moan. “Fucking hell, you’re good at that. Who’ve you been practicing with? Stede?” Izzy flushes red all over. Ed waggles his eyebrows, then laughs. “Nah, I’d know. Stede loves to run his mouth - fuck, mate,” Ed whines when Izzy pinches his nipples through his shirt. “What are you going to do to me?” 

“Depends.” Izzy wets his lips. “Is this my only chance?” 

Ed’s playful expression melts away. He rubs his thumb over the x he tattooed on Izzy’s cheekbone. “I don’t want it to be.” 

“I’m going to ride you.” 

Ed sways a little. “Shit, okay, get right to the point, why don’t you?”

“You asked. ” 

“Thought you might have something more in the way of foreplay.” 

Izzy snorts. “Do the past two decades not count?” 

Izzy does allow a little more kissing, though he thinks his point stands. He scrapes his blunt nails along Edward’s back until Edward’s whining. He licks each pretty sound from Ed’s lips. 

Once they’ve managed to undress, Izzy presses Ed back against the mattress firmly. “Don’t move,” he orders. “It’s been ages since I’ve been fucked properly, and I’m not as interested in pain as I once was.” 

Edward rolls his eyes. He doesn’t move, though, aside from his prick, which twitches in Izzy’s grip. Izzy rubs the head of it along the folds of his cunt. He uses it to stroke his own aching cock. Edward shivers. “Iz.” 

Izzy’s throat is suddenly too tight to speak. He blinks blurry eyes and wonders if he could blame the salty water in them on sweat. It is boiling hot in this little shed. He lines up Edward’s prick with his hole and eases himself on it. 

Oh, it’s just as good as Izzy always secretly imagined - long and a little curved, sheathed perfectly in Izzy’s cunt. Izzy’s residual leg aches, but not so much that he can’t hold this position for a good long while. He plans to. When they were young men and not old sea dogs, Izzy used to fantasize about warming his captain’s cock. Edward might not be his captain anymore, but the fantasy still makes Izzy clench around Ed. 

Ed groans deep in his chest. His head falls against Izzy’s collarbone. For the first time, Izzy allows himself to stroke those silvery curls. He rubs Edward’s back the way he dreamed of doing when they would huddle together during storms as boys. This moment is very nearly perfect. 

“What the fuck.” Ed’s hands squeeze Izzy’s hips. When he manages to open his eyes, he’s a little cross-eyed. Izzy laughs. “Fuck off, mate, you try having that vice of a cunt around your cock without going off like a teenager. 

“If I ask Bonnet, he’ll say you last a good long time, then?” 

Ed wrinkles his nose. Izzy grins viciously. 

Sure enough, Izzy’s only get to ride Ed’s gorgeous prick for a minute before Ed starts moaning like a whore. Izzy tells him as much, and Ed’s luminous eyes swim with tears. 

“I,” Edward tries. “I, Izzy, I - ”

Izzy claps a hand over Edward’s mouth. “Don’t say it,” he warns. “I don’t fucking want to hear it.” Not yet, anyway. “Just let it feel good. Please.” 

Edward nods frantically. “It does,” he says, muffled behind Izzy’s hand. “It does, you do. Please, Iz.” 

“Touch my prick. Bring me with you.” 

For once, Izzy’s grateful to be old. It means he doesn’t have to rush to pull off Ed’s prick before he comes. Edward’s always been competent at tasks that involve his hands; it shouldn’t surprise Izzy how quickly his clever fingers bring Izzy to come on his cock. 

They collapse together on the bed. Edward’s shivering again. He keeps reaching for Izzy and then pulling away. 

Fuck it, Izzy thinks. He kisses Ed’s freckled cheek, his crow’s feet, and both of his eyebrows. “Eddie,” he croons. 

Edward buries his face in the pillow. His whole body shakes with sobs. “I hurt you.” 

“Yeah.” 

“I took your fucking leg.” 

“Almost took my life with it.” 

“I handed you a gun. ” 

“And I pulled the trigger. Hey now.” Izzy might be a little older than Edward, but working as part of the crew rather than solely giving orders has built strength back into him. He easily rolls Edward onto his back and drags his hands away from his tearstained face. “You fucked me up. You fucked me over. That’s what pirates do. Do you want to linger in the misery of it? I don’t.” 

“How can you ever trust me?” 

Izzy shrugs. “I can’t, can I? Not fully. But I’ve never been one to trust anyone.” 

Ed smiles weakly. “Prickly motherfucker.” 

“Either we can go forward together or we can’t. I know what I want. The rest is in your hands, Edward.” 

Ed wipes his face. “Do my best not to wreck it, then,” he says. “Fuck, look at us having a conversation. Our boyfriend will be proud of us.”

Izzy flushes. “Fuck off. Your boyfriend.” 

“Wait, you mean to tell me you and Stede haven’t kissed? I was jealous over nothing?” 

“It’s not nothing - oh fuck.” 

Ed raises his eyebrows at Izzy. “So you didn’t kiss, but it’s not nothing? Sounds complicated, Iz.” 

Izzy shoves him. “Brat.” 

A floorboard creaks. Izzy and Edward lurch upright - and there’s Stede in the doorway, flushed a pretty pink. He clears his throat. 

“Room for one more?” 

#

Stede

Izzy slides away from Edward, grabbing his shirt and covering himself with it as he goes. Stede wishes he wouldn’t - he hasn’t gotten a good look at Izzy’s prick yet, but he’s really hoping he will. Edward, for his part, lounges naked on the cot, hands behind his head, smirking. 

“Did I miss all the fun?” Stede says mournfully. 

“What fun?” Izzy says as if he and Edward aren’t both naked and covered in sweat and…fluids. Stede will think ‘fluids.’ If he gets any more specific, he’ll really embarrass himself. 

“I’m probably down for the count,” Ed says, “but Izzy’s got another round in him, don’t you, Iz?” Izzy scowls at him. Ed blows a kiss. 

Stede clears his throat. “I’m glad the two of you worked out your differences.” 

“Is that what we’re calling it,” Izzy mumbles. He fixes Stede with a suspicious look. “Here to yell at me about my new position as Edward’s mistress?” 

“Hey, no,” Ed says sharply, sitting up. “That’s not what’s going on.” 

Izzy grimaces and ducks his head. He lets Ed gently touch his arm, which Stede thinks is a concession. Stede clears his throat again. “Mary says….” 

“Oh Christ,” Izzy grumbles. 

“I didn’t even say anything yet!” 

“You’re quoting your ex-wife at me. That’s all I need to know.” 

“I thought you two were getting on quite well.” 

“Not as well as some other members of this relentlessly horny crew,” Izzy says. 

Stede stands up straight. “Who?” 

“None of your business, Bonnet. You’re the ex-husband.” 

“That is supremely unfair.” 

Ed raises his hand. “I know this one! Mary and Doug are gonna have a menage-a-trois with Pete in the art studio tomorrow. I heard them talking when I was walking to the outhouse.” 

“That’s why she wants me to babysit?” Stede says, affronted. 

“Jimenez and I babysit,” Izzy corrects. “You’re their father, for you it’s just called ‘parenting.’” 

Stede shakes himself. “ The point is , I need to talk to you about something incredibly serious, and you won’t listen.” 

Izzy pinches the bridge of his nose. He closes his eyes and inhales noisily. He exhales a gusty sigh. “Fine. Talk.” 

Stede wrings his hands. “I’m sorry for being such a bother to you all the time.” 

Izzy drops his hand away from his face. He frowns up at Stede. “What?” Stede’s surprised by the edge of concern in his voice. 

Stede’s terrified to speak. But Edward’s here, watching him steadily with pride in his eyes. And what’s life without a little risk? “I don’t know how to tell you what I need to tell you, Izzy. You don’t trust promises, and you made fun of my poetry.” 

Izzy wrinkles his nose. “The shite you recited at open mic? It was terrible poetry, Bonnet, you’re lucky I didn’t throw a tomato at you.” 

“Oh, shut up.” Stede’s heart hammers. “I’ve been trying to discover the best way to communicate to you that I’m maddeningly in love with you, and nothing’s worked, so I might as well just lay it out clearly so I can get an answer and not continue to make a fool of myself.” 

Izzy goes very still. His face loses most of its color. He wets his lips. “Fuck off,” he says. 

Stede knows by now that Izzy’s fuck off means he’s overwhelmed. “I’m maddeningly in love with you,” he repeats. “I feel the same for you as I do for Ed. I have for quite some time.” 

Izzy’s chest rises and falls unevenly. Stede tries very hard not to look at his thick chest hair. Izzy swallows. “So you’re not…murderously jealous that I just fucked your man?” 

“Of course I’m jealous! Of Ed!” Stede waves his arms wildly at Ed, who gives him a lazy salute. “He gets to touch you all over after one conversation, which knowing the two of you probably wasn’t even a proper conversation, and meanwhile I’ve been letting you train me for months and the most I get is a quick little slap on the arse when I’m practicing swinging on ropes!” 

Izzy tilts his head in a way that reminds Stede of a curious bird. “Oh, you liked that, did you,” he says softly. 

Stede huffs impatiently. “I like a great deal many things about you, unfortunately! It’s terrifying! I’ve already royally fucked things up with Ed - I have no business having any interest in anyone else.”

Izzy drops his shirt and beckons to Stede. Stede stands in front of him; when Izzy tugs at his arm, he drops to his knees in front of him. Izzy’s callused hand grasps Stede’s chin. “I’ve seen what you can do to a man,” he says in a low voice. “I have a bloody unicorn leg because of it.” 

Shame roils Stede’s stomach. 

Izzy kisses him hungrily. 

Stede grabs Izzy’s hips like a drowning man grabs a rope. Izzy’s just as ferocious as Stede had hoped he would be, even more commanding than Edward is sometimes. It makes Stede tremble. 

Ed wolf whistles. Izzy rolls his eyes. He looks at Stede with more emotions in his gold-tinted eyes than Stede knows how to name. “If you’re opposed to cunts in general, we’ll have trouble, but if you’re alright with a man’s cunt we’ll get on just fine.” 

“Oh!” Stede blinks. He looks down Izzy’s body, and sure enough, he hasn’t got a cock the way Stede had expected. “I wasn’t aware that was an option.” Though it makes plenty of sense, knowing what little he does of Jim’s situation. “I, uh, may need some guidance.” 

“Bless Mary’s heart,” Izzy says dryly. Stede whacks him on the hip. Izzy smirks. Stede swallows, then trails his hand down Izzy’s furred belly to the thatch of grey hair below. He inhales sharply when he finds what’s undeniably a little prick, maybe a third of the length of Stede’s thumb. 

“It isn’t the same as a woman’s cunt,” Stede says wonderingly. “You have a little cock and everything.” He slots his thumb under it and gently presses up. Izzy’s breath hitches. Stede strokes along Izzy’s wet folds. When he brings his hand up to study it, he catches sight of Ed’s spend mixed with Izzy’s. His mouth goes dry. 

Izzy gives Stede a smoldering look. He sucks Stede’s wet fingers into his mouth. Stede can’t help but whine. Izzy leaves off Stede’s fingers and wraps his hand around Stede’s hard prick as best he can through Stede’s trousers. “Izzy,” Stede pleads.

Izzy tsks. “Lie down, head in Edward’s lap. Spread those legs.” 

Stede rushes to take his trousers off and trips getting out of them. Ed catches him and helps lie down. He kisses Stede’s cheek. Stede smiles at the familiar sensation of his rough whiskers. “He’s going to blow your mind,” Ed murmurs. 

Izzy takes his time crawling between Stede’s legs. He kisses the tops of Stede’s feet, then his shins. He nips the sensitive parts of Stede’s inner thighs. He places a kiss to the tip of Stede’s cock. 

“I thought pirates didn’t suck cock,” Stede gasps. 

“Who told you that?” 

“Ed.” 

Izzy snorts. “Ed’s a prissy little princess who just wants to get taken care of. Isn’t that right, Eddie?” 

“Fuckyouuuu,” Ed sing-songs from his spectator’s spot at the top of the bed. “But yeah.”

“Any pirate worth his salt is a cocksucker,” Izzy tells Stede. “Who knows, maybe someday Edward will rise to the challenge.” Izzy looks up at Stede through his eyelashes. “Let me show you how it’s done.” 

Izzy’s mouth is a hot, wet sheath for Stede’s cock. Stede bites his fist to muffle his noises. Stede’s well-aware that he’s got more to work with than most men - both Mary and Ed have commented on it, albeit that Mary complained while Ed’s only provided glowing reviews. He expects Izzy to stop halfway. Instead, with a few brief pauses to adjust, Izzy keeps going until Stede’s cock hits the back of his throat. 

Stede’s hands fly to Izzy’s head. He yanks fitfully at Izzy’s hair before catching himself and petting him apologetically. “Oh, oh,” he pants. “I’m sorry, I think I might - I’m already so close - ”

Stede whines pathetically when Izzy pulls off. “No you’re not,” Izzy says, voice firm and just a little scathing the way it always was when he trained Stede. “Hands behind your back. Now, Bonnet, or would you rather I kick you out of the bed to take care of myself?” 

Stede clasps his hands behind his back. “What are you going to do to me?” 

“I’m going to suck you off, and if you behave yourself you may even get to come.” Izzy considers this. “Doubtful, though. You haven’t often proven yourself a good listener.” 

“I can be taught. You know I can, Izzy. You’ve been my best teacher since I’ve been at sea.” 

Izzy looks up toward Ed, eyes dark and calculating. “Better than Edward?” 

The question feels like a trick, but Stede doesn’t have enough blood in his brain to suss out the correct answer. “Yes,” he says, quickly crumbling with each of Izzy’s exhales caressing the head of his cock. “Yes, better than Ed, please, are you going to -?” 

Izzy licks along the underside of his cock. Stede gets the hem of his shirt between his teeth and bites down to muffle his whines. Ed gently pulls it out and slides his fingers into Stede’s mouth instead. Tears leak from the corners of Stede’s eyes. It’s not just what Izzy’s doing to him - it’s the way Ed’s cradling him, and it’s what Stede can only describe as love in Izzy’s expression when he gets his mouth on Stede’s cock. It’s the fact that he’s back at a place that never felt like home being loved by the two men he adores. 

Stede’s orgasm hits him like a blow to the head. Izzy takes all of it easily. “There you go,” Ed praises both of them. Izzy rests his cheek on Stede’s thigh, his gasping breaths grazing Stede’s oversensitive cock. His hand works between his legs until he shudders all over. 

They curl up all together, sticky and exhausted. Izzy’s instinct seems to be to pull away, but Stede and Ed prevent that by bundling him between the two of them. “Better know how to do laundry, Bonnet,” he rasps. “I’m sure as fuck not washing all of this.” 

“You two started it!” Stede says indignantly. 

“Then make Eddie wash it.” 

Stede’s never heard Izzy call Ed “Eddie” before. He himself has never tried it - it wouldn’t feel right. Coming from Izzy, though, it fits. Ed makes a grumbly sound and butts his head against Izzy’s like a cat. 

“We did talk things through, by the way,” Ed says. “Kind of. We’re working on it, right, Iz?” 

Izzy traces the lines on Stede’s palm while he contemplates it. Stede holds very still, even though it tickles. “You know what, I think we are.” 

“We’ll all work on it,” Stede says firmly. “Together.” 

Ed quirks his eyebrow at Stede. “As a crew?” 

“As lovers.”

He expects Izzy to call him a sap. Instead, Izzy just sighs and kisses his knuckles. 

#

Ed

Having mind-blowing sex with the two people who love you the most does wonders for one’s mood, Ed discovers. Instead of sulking on the porch while everyone has breakfast, he finds himself rocking on the porch swing, singing some of the shanties Izzy taught him when they met as kids. Stede joins him outside and hands him an orange. 

“Breakfast is running late,” he says apologetically. “Alma and Louis wanted to prepare it, apparently.” 

“Are they better at cooking than you?” 

“Hey! …I hope so.” 

Ed peels the orange, still whistling. He’s plenty content like that when the front door bangs open.

“Where are you going?” Izzy’s voice calls from inside. “Jimenez - ”

Jim stomps over to the porch swing and stares down at Ed and Stede. 

“Move,” Jim says. 

They give Stede and Ed one second to comply before they squeeze between them on the porch swing. They put their arms around both of them. Ed goes stiff right away. He knows a trap when he sees one. Stede blinks. “Oh! You’re shockingly friendly today, Jim.” 

“If you hurt Izzy in any kind of permanent way, I’ll finish the job I started during the mutiny, comprende?” Jim glares at Ed. 

Ed raises his eyebrows and whistles. “Tough words there, mate. You’re lucky I’m not younger, or I’d be wanting to fight you.” 

“I’d kick your ass anyway,” Jim says. Cocky little shit. Ed really wants to challenge them now, but a sudden throbbing in his skull reminds him of a mutiny and a cannonball, and he keeps his mouth shut. They look over at Stede, who grimaces. “That goes for both of you. He’s got a whole fucking crew who would do the same. Better not forget that.” 

The front door slams open. Alma and Louis come tumbling out, untied apron strings flying behind them. Jim catches the door before it slams and ducks inside. “Fuck was that?” Izzy demands. The closed door cuts off the rest of his words. 

Alma perches on the arm of the chair next to Ed while Louis wiggles in between Ed and Stede. It’s the closest proximity to the kids Ed’s had all week. It makes his chest ache. 

“Two questions,” Alma says. “One, how do you like your eggs?” 

“Over easy and not poisoned,” Ed says. 

“Got it.” 

“Two - ”

Louis interrupts her. “If you’re dating Jim’s dad, does that mean we’re siblings?” 

Ed has two equally baffled thoughts in a row - I thought Jim’s dad was dead followed by Is Stede dating a ghost? - before it clicks. “You mean Izzy?” 

“Yeah, Jim’s dad Izzy.”

“We heard Izzy telling Jim that you three were all ‘lovers,’” Alma says, using air quotes. “Louis thinks that means us and Jim are siblings, but I said we’re not siblings until Stede and Izzy get married. So which is it?” 

Stede flushes bright red. Ed’s brain conjures an image of a triple wedding officiated by Buttons the seagull: Stede in a blue suit, Izzy in an emerald one, and himself in purple, but maybe a purple gown…. 

The window directly behind the swing opens. “Oi, tiny chefs,” Izzy says, poking his head out. “I think your bacon is burning.” 

Alma swears loudly and runs inside, Louis right on her heels. “I should monitor that,” Stede says anxiously, following them in. Izzy rolls his eyes, but Ed catches his little fond smile. 

Then Izzy shuts the window, and Ed’s alone on the porch. Which is fine, really. He won’t be alone for long. Not now that he has Stede and Izzy. He can wait. 

The front door opens again. When Ed realizes Mary’s watching him, he stands the way he would have years ago in the presence of a superior. “Just here to pick up breakfast,” he says. 

Mary studies him. Through the open door, Ed can hear the crew laughing and talking and plates clanking. If he concentrates hard enough, he can pick out Izzy and Stede’s voices. Just that sound makes him feel more alive than he has in years. More like life’s really worth living. 

“You know loving people means treating them right,” she says. It’s half question and half warning. 

Ed nods. “Figuring that one out, yeah.” 

Mary looks him over. “I’ve got two kids very determinedly advocating on your behalf,” she says. “So…okay then, Blackbeard. Come on in.”