Archive of Our Own ^beta

"Okay, I've got a good one," Stede said, voice brimming with that trademark Bonnet enthusiasm. "Would you rather be eleven feet tall or nine inches tall?"

Ed raised his head from the chaise to look over at Stede in the armchair. "Mate, that's an easy one. Eleven feet, obviously."

"What's so obvious about it?" Stede asked, the corners of his mouth turning down in a little pout.

"Well, mostly because being nine inches tall would suck balls. Eventually, someone's bound to sit on me or step on me, and that's that. No more tiny Ed Teach."

"Ah, but imagine how sneaky you could be! You could slip into a ship's hold unnoticed and rummage for the best loot unseen!"

"Yeah, maybe. But how am I gonna carry all that loot? I'm nine inches tall!"

"That's where teamwork comes in. You signal your co-conspirators, direct them to the choicest bits of loot, and together, pull off the perfect heist!"

"Are my co-conspirators also nine inches tall? 'Cos otherwise they're still gonna have to wreak some havoc to get past the ship's crew."

Stede hummed thoughtfully. "Yes, that is a good point. Alright, you've convinced me. Eleven feet tall, it is."

Stede shot him a cheeky smile that did not in any way make Ed's tummy do a little back-flip. "If you were eleven feet tall, would you carry me around? It'd be so much fun to ride a giant!"

Ed tried his best to suppress the mental image of Stede riding him. Honestly, if literally anyone else on earth had said those words, Ed would interpret it as a come on. Stede, though? The guy honestly seemed to have no clue that there was any other meaning to his words at all.

"Yeah, man," Ed said. "I'd make you a little carrier thing. Strap you to my back. Take you everywhere with me."

"Fab!" Stede exclaimed, eyes twinkling with mirth.

They slipped into a comfortable silence, disturbed only by the faint voices of the crew up on deck and the occasional squawk from Karl. They'd been pursuing a Spanish merchant ship for a couple of days by this point. Given the currents and wind speed, they were due catch up with them the next morning.

Back on the Queen Anne's Revenge, Ed would spend these interminably long stretches between raids holed up in his cabin, the picture of the aloof and mysterious Blackbeard. But here on the Revenge, he got to pass the time shooting the shit with Stede. For the first time that he could remember, the downtime between raids wasn't so boring that he wanted to scream. He was actually having fun! And with Izzy gone, there was no-one around to make him feel guilty about it. So yeah, even if Ed did have to pretend that he wasn't fully fucking gone for his co-captain, he was still having the most fun he'd had in ages. Years. Maybe ever.

"Okay, here's one for you," Ed said. "Would you rather have to wear the same clothes every day for the rest of your life, or have to change clothes every hour for the rest of your life?"

Stede narrowed his eyes, the toes of his stockinged feet flexing where they rested upon the coffee table. Not that Ed was staring at his legs, of course. Nope. Definitely not staring at those toned calves and biteable thighs…

"Clarification," Stede said, pulling Ed's mind back to the game at hand. "Does every hour include through the night?"

"Yep."

"Oh Ed, that's diabolical!"

Ed grinned at the parade of expressions that crossed Stede's face as he mulled over his options. He knew he'd done well with this one, knew he'd crafted the perfect dilemma for the self-described 'clothes horse' whose ship contained not one, but two extensive wardrobes.

"Well," Stede began, slowly. "I'll admit it would be a pain to have to change outfits every hour. The sleep deprivation alone would be insufferable. But the thought of wearing the same set of clothes every day for the rest of time? No. Can't do it. I mean, what if selected the wrong outfit? Say I choose a lovely, vibrant teal suit and then need to… I don't know… infiltrate a nunnery or something?"

Ed barked out a laugh. "Infiltrate a nunnery? That something you're planning, Bonnet?"

"One must be prepared for every eventuality in this line of work, Edward," Stede admonished, with a chuckle.

"Wait — do you actually have a nunnery infiltration outfit stashed away in that wardrobe of yours, Stede?" Ed asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Stede's eyes sparkled with that lunatic glint that could only mean he was about to say or do something completely unhinged. "You wanna see it?"

"Fuck yeah, man. Lead the way!"

"Fucking mental," Ed giggled, as Stede paraded around the auxiliary wardrobe in a habit and wimple. "I can't believe you actually have this! Where did you even get it?"

Stede tapped the side of his nose with a finger, his mischievous grin bringing out the little dimple that Ed so desperately wished he could kiss off of Stede's face. "A man's got to have his secrets, Edward."

"What else have you got in here, man?" Ed asked, scanning the racks of colour-coordinated shirts, waistcoats, and breeches.

Stede led him to a corner of the room dominated by a rail that held all manner of ridiculous outfits. On the front of the rail was the stupid little explorer's getup that Stede had worn when he took them treasure hunting. Did absolutely nothing for the man's arse. Definitely not one of his better looks.

"Mate, for what possible reason would you ever need this?" Ed asked, holding up a midnight blue matador's suit, embellished with an elaborate golden trim.

Stede giggled a little at that. "Well, I'll admit that the odds of finding myself in a bullfight are slim. But would you look at the detailing on it? You've got to admit it's quite stunning, Ed!"

Over the next half hour or so, the two men giggled their way through their own private fashion show. Between them, they donned lederhosen, servant's attire, naval uniforms… you name it, Stede had it, and one or the other of them tried it on.

Every time they changed, Stede disappeared behind a folding screen. Ed wasn't sure if Stede was trying to protect his own modesty or Ed's. Either way, he was thankful. He was pretty sure if he had to be repeatedly confronted with the sight of Stede in his smalls — all broad chest and long, toned legs — he wouldn't be able to talk his dick down. As it was, he had to try his hardest to not think about what Stede was up to behind the screen, focusing instead on wrestling with his own buttons and laces.

At some point they had run out of costumes, and so Ed had started rummaging through Stede's other rails — his autumn vibes and summer linens. He was having far too much fun to call it quits just because they had made it through the more outlandish shit.

Ed pulled on a loose, billowy shirt that had called to him from deep in Stede's racks. The burgundy silk was so dark it was almost black, and it was shot through with golden threads, embroidered into loops and swirls reminiscent of ocean waves on a dark, moonless night. The fabric settled over his skin, liquid and cool, the maintop of the ship inked onto Ed's chest erupting from the vee of the plunging neckline. He'd been surprised to find it in Stede's collection. It was far more daring than anything he could imagine Stede ever wearing. He'd look fucking amazing in it though. Ed could picture how Stede's golden chest hair would peek out, all sexy and lickable and… Jesus Christ, Ed had to get his thoughts back under control if he didn't want to make things really fucking awkward.

"Are you decent?" Stede called out, as Ed finished fastening his borrowed ivory breeches.

"Yeah, mate," Ed replied, shoving aside all thoughts of Stede's chest hair. "Everything is squirreled away. Your eyes will be perfectly safe."

Stede stepped out from behind the screen sporting an elegant three piece suit in pinks and yellows reminiscent of that moth that he'd been so excited to show Ed on their treasure hunt. He looked fucking delectable, all done up and proper, buried under all those layers and floofs and frilly bits. Fucking hell, Ed just wanted to eat him.

"The day's getting on," said Stede, tugging on the cuffs of his jacket. "I think we probably ought to get up on deck and check in with the —"

Stede's next words never left his mouth, which hung slack as his gaze landed on Ed. The atmosphere in the small room shifted abruptly, the playful ease of mere moments before replaced by a syrupy-thick tension as they took each other in. Ed did not miss a single nuance of Stede's expression — his parted lips, the blush rising on his cheek bones, the widening of his eyes as they flicked up and down the length of Ed's body.

Ed allowed himself a cheeky little rove down Stede's body too, noting the rapid rise and fall of his chest. He let his eyes slide down a little further, to the snug breeches that left little to the imagination, and oh…

Stede seemed to realise his predicament at the same moment that Ed did. His eyes grew round as saucers, the blush on his cheeks instantly intensifying from a dusky pink to a beet red. He whirled around, turning his back on Ed. He began rummaging through the rack of waistcoats before him, performing an unconvincing pantomime of searching for something on the rail.

Ed stood, pinned to the floor, unsure of the best course of action. For weeks, he had been pining for the man before him, too afraid to make a move in case his feelings weren't reciprocated. He'd puzzled over Stede's words, his actions, his body language, in search of any indication that his advances would be welcomed. And, well, popping a boner at the sight of Ed in Stede's clothes did seem like a pretty clear sign.

But Stede was clearly feeling uncomfortable about this whole situation. Maybe Stede's dick sitch wasn't connected to Ed at all. He might have been thinking about fuckin' saucier spoons or something (Ed still didn't know what those were, but they sounded fancy as fuck). Maybe Ed should go.

Yeah, he should probably go…

Ed's stockinged feet carried him across the wardrobe, the sound of his footsteps almost completely swallowed by the plush rug beneath his toes.

"Stede?" Ed said, voice barely above a whisper.

Stede froze, knuckles white as he gripped onto the garments in front of him.

"Is everything… are you okay, mate?"

Ed was close to him now, so close that he could have reached out an arm and brushed his hand across Stede's broad back. But he didn't want to initiate any touch, not while Stede was clearly distressed, so he balled his hands into fists and kept them resolutely at his side.

"Stede?" Ed asked again, coming to a stop a couple of feet behind him. From this distance, he could make out the tremors in Stede's arms. "Will you look at me, please?"

Stede shook his head, wordlessly.

"Please, Stede?" he tried, once more.

Slowly, Stede turned to face him. Summoning a frankly fucking heroic amount of willpower, Ed managed to keep his eyes resolutely on Stede's face. He needed to tread carefully; the moment felt so fragile. One misstep could shatter it all to pieces.

"I'm sorry, Ed," Stede squeaked in a sad little voice, eyes fixed at a spot somewhere over Ed's left shoulder.

"Why are you sorry, mate?" Ed asked.

Stede huffed, his cheeks growing impossibly darker as he gestured vaguely toward his own crotch. "I seem to have found myself with an… unexpected visitor. I don't wish to make you uncomfortable."

"I'm not uncomfortable," Ed murmured.

"Well, that's very kind of you to say, Ed, but —"

"Stede," Ed cut in. When he spoke again, it was slow and deliberate. "I'm. Not. Uncomfortable."

Stede's gaze flicked down to the growing bulge in Ed's breeches. When Stede's eyes came back up to meet Ed's own, the shame and embarrassment had receded somewhat, and in their place was a spark of hope.

"Oh," Stede exclaimed. "You have a gentleman's predicament, too?"

Ed chuckled, taking a step forward. "Yeah, mate. I reckon I do."

Ed took one more step, until he and Stede were practically nose to nose.

"You can tell me to go, Stede, if you don't want this," Ed murmured. His nose brushed up against Stede's, whose hot breath ghosted Ed's lips. They stayed that way through three furious beats of Ed's heart, Ed not willing to make that final move without some kind of sign from Stede that it would be welcome.

"Please, Stede, either kiss me or tell me to leave."

Ed pulled back just far enough to look Stede in the eyes. And yes, there it was, that streak of foolhardy bravery that lay just beneath the surface. Stede, the beautiful, reckless, unhinged lunatic that he was, closed the gap between them, pressing his lips to Ed's. Weeks of pent up arousal collided with an overwhelming wave of relief, tearing a wanton moan from Ed's lungs.

Ed raised his hands to Stede's face, his fingers seeking out the golden curls that had dominated his waking thoughts for weeks now. He tilted his head to deepen the kiss, crowding closer into Stede's space. Stede opened up to him beautifully, whining high in the back of his throat as Ed slipped his tongue between his lips. He slid one of his hands down to Stede's chest, where his heart pounded against Ed's palm in a frantic beat. Stede's tension was plain beneath Ed's touch — tensed muscles and hummingbird tremors passing through his fingertips. Shit. Too fast, too much.

Ed pulled his lips from Stede's, lightly pressing their foreheads together because he couldn't bear to forgo the proximity altogether. "Is this okay, Stede?" he asked. "Because I don't want this if you don't want this."

"I do," Stede whispered. "I want this."

The unspoken 'but' swirled in the air between them. Ed pulled back a little.

"But?" Ed prompted.

Stede shook his head, eyes shining and wide. "No buts," he said. "This is just all new to me."

"Being with a man?"

"Being with someone who wants me," Stede said, his lower lip trembling a little with the weight of the confession.

A wave of anger swept through Ed at a world that had allowed a man as kind and funny and fucking hot as Stede to reach middle age feeling so unwanted. It was nothing short of a crime. And though Ed would never admit it, that anger was chased by a small thrill at the realisation that he could be the first to make Stede feel desired.

"Well, I want you, Stede," Ed murmured, closing the distance between them once more. "I've wanted you since the day we met."

Stede surged forward, claiming Ed's lips with his own. Ed pulled him in flush, and Stede responded by wrapping his arms tight around Ed. They melted together, lips and tongues and grasping hands, a pot finally boiling over after weeks of simmering.

Stede's arousal pressed into Ed's hip, insistent and wanting. And yeah, okay. Nice as the kissing was, Ed had other goals in mind.

"Stede," he gasped, as they parted for air. "Has anyone ever sucked you off before?"

Stede bit down on his lip, eyes shining and round. He shook his head slowly from side to side. "No."

"Is that something you'd like?" Ed asked, as he slowly trailed his hand down Stede's torso toward the tent in his breeches.

Stede's stomach muscles twitched beneath Ed's hand. "Yes," Stede gasped. "But only — only if that's something you want to do."

"Wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to, mate," Ed replied, as his hand reached its destination. Stede's eyelids fluttered as Ed palmed him through his breeches. Even through the layers of clothing, Ed could tell that Stede had a perfect dick, thick and long and firm. His mouth watered at the thought of it. He began to lower himself to his knees, eager to feel Stede's cock hit the back of his throat, when Stede's hands shot out, grasping him by the biceps.

"Ed, wait!"

Ed froze, feeling wrong-footed and yet unsure of his mistake. He flicked his questioning gaze up to Stede's face. "Stede, what—"

"I think there might be a more comfortable way to do this," Stede said, with a brief glance down at Ed's bum knee. "Perhaps we could…"

Stede laced his fingers with Ed's, guiding him over to the chaise at the far end of the closet. Ed sat, overcome with gratitude at Stede's thoughtfulness. Kneeling would have been bearable, for a while at least, but there was no denying that this would be a more comfortable position.

"Thank you," Ed murmured, as he opened his knees to make space for Stede to stand between them.

"Sweetheart," Stede sighed. "There is nothing to thank me for."

Ed felt the colour rise in his cheeks at the endearment. He rested his forehead on Stede's thigh, in need of a second to compose himself. No-one had ever made him feel so cared for during sex before, and they hadn't even gotten properly started yet. After a couple of deep breaths, he sat back, setting his fingers to work on the fall front of Stede's breeches.

When Stede's cock was finally bared, Ed knew he was gonna be ruined for any other man for years to come; maybe forever. As he had suspected, Stede's cock was thick and long and fuck, it had a perfect curve to it. Some day, Ed vowed, he was gonna fall apart on that cock as it pounded against that special spot deep inside of him. But not today. Today, he had another mission.

"Fuck, Stede, you're perfect," Ed murmured, before licking a long, hot stripe up the length of Stede's shaft. He tasted so fucking good, his sweaty musk combining with traces of the lavender soap that he favoured. Wrapping one hand around Stede's length, he took the head of his cock into his mouth, savouring the salty bead of pre-come that had welled at the tip. Stede let out a high-pitched whine before immediately clamping a hand over his own mouth. Well, that just would not fucking do.

Ed pulled off, lazily stroking Stede with his fist. "Nuh uh," he admonished, reaching up to coax Stede's hand away from his face. "None of that, please."

"I'm sorry," Stede blurted. "Mary always preferred that our couplings were silent."

"Well, I'm not Mary," Ed rumbled, punctuating the statement with a kitten lick to Stede's slit. "I want to hear every little thing that I do to you."

He closed his lips around Stede once more. This time, Stede didn't hold back the groan of pleasure as Ed's mouth engulfed him. Ed responded in kind, humming in encouragement as he began to bob his head, slowly working his way down Stede's considerable length.

On the periphery of Ed's vision, Stede's hands hovered awkwardly by his sides, fingers twitching and flexing against thin air. Ed flicked his gaze up to Stede before slowly and deliberately guiding one of Stede's hands to his hair. Sensing Stede's hesitation, he pulled off once more.

"It's okay, Stede. You can put your hands in my hair. Guide me, yeah? Show me what feels good."

Stede nodded before finally sinking his fingers into Ed's hair. Ed suppressed the urge to purr like a kitten — that was a thought he'd have to inspect on another occasion — and got back down to business, giving himself over to the rhythm of it, savouring the stretch of his jaw and the weight of Stede's cock on his tongue. It had been a good long while since he'd had the pleasure of a cock in his mouth. Long enough that he'd almost forgotten how good it could feel to lose himself in the act of turning another man to a quaking, trembling mess — not at the end of a sword, but with his mouth and hands.

"Oh, fuck Ed," Stede gasped, as Ed relaxed his throat to take him deeper. "Your mouth… you — ah, fuck — you're exquisite, darling."

Stede's words were a bolt of lightning straight to Ed's cock. He palmed himself through his breeches, just to take the edge off. He sucked hard on the next upstroke, pulling a howl from Stede.

"Ed, Ed Ed Ed," Stede chanted. "I'm — ah, I'm getting close. Where should I…?"

"I want you to fuck my face and come down my throat," Ed rasped as he came up for air.

"You're sure? I don't want to hurt you."

And fuck, that should not have been one of the hottest things that Ed had ever heard in the bedroom. He might have to add that to the growing pile of realisations to sort through later.

"I trust you," Ed said, simply. "And if it gets too much, I'll tap your thigh like this, okay?" Ed demonstrated, two quick taps to Stede's left thigh.

"Okay," Stede whispered.

Ed breathed deep, opening his mouth wide and staring up at Stede through his lashes, ready to take whatever Stede was willing to give him. Stede was cautious at first, shallow little thrusts, not much more than his cockhead passing Ed's lips. Ed grasped his ass, fingertips sinking into the silk-clad meat of him, encouraging him in deeper.

Stede seemed to get the message, feeding his length into Ed until he bumped up against the back of his throat. When Ed didn't tap out, Stede's confidence seemed to grow, his pace picking up. Even so, it was the most tender face-fucking Ed had ever received. Stede's thumbs caressed Ed's cheekbones as he stared reverently down upon him. The spit pooled in the corners of Ed's mouth, spilling free to drip down the length of his beard. His vision grew blurry as he fought against his gag reflex, Stede's praises and endearments burrowing into him, warming him from the inside out.

Before long, Stede was shaking apart, hips stuttering as he spilled down Ed's throat, Ed's name on his lips. Ed groaned as he swallowed down Stede's spend, his own dick twitching in sympathy from within the confines of his borrowed clothing. He held himself in place, nose burrowed into Stede's golden-red pubic hair, as Stede shuddered through the aftershocks.

When Stede pulled out, it was almost as if someone had cut his strings. Ed grabbed him by the waist as his knees buckled, supporting his weight as he helped guide him onto the couch. He looked utterly fucking debauched sprawled there, clothes disheveled and dick out, hair plastered to his forehead. Ed's stomach swooped at the realisation that he had done that — mussed up the Gentleman Pirate in a way that no-one ever had before.

Stede's chest heaved as he came down from his high. "Jesus Christ, Edward, that was…"

Ed chuckled. "Yeah, mate. It sure was."

"Come here," Stede murmured, making grabby hands in Ed's general direction. Ed went willingly, draping himself over Stede and bringing their foreheads together. His lips hovered millimeters from Stede's — in Ed's experience, most blokes weren't too keen on making out after he'd swallowed a mouthful of their jizz — but Stede reeled him in, fingers sinking into Ed's beard, plundering Ed's mouth with reckless abandon.

"Edward," he panted when they broke for air. "Tell me what you want. Tell me what I can do for you."

Ed considered for a moment, sifting through the thousand-and-one fantasies his brain had conjured up since the day he'd first met the Gentleman Pirate. He hoped that they would have time to explore them all, eventually — honestly, he wasn't quite sure what he would do with himself if this turned out to be a one-time thing. Hurl himself into the sea, probably. But of all the filthy things that Ed had imagined doing with Stede, the fantasy that rose to the surface of his mind was a simple one: soft, lavender-scented hands touching, stroking, caressing.

"Can you touch me, like you touch yourself? I want to know what you do to make yourself feel good, Stede."

Stede smiled, dropping a peck onto Ed's lips. "Yes, I can do that. Could you just… over on that shelf there is a small bottle of rather lovely hand lotion. I'd go fetch it myself, but I'm afraid my legs have turned to rubber."

Ed was up in a flash, rummaging around on the indicated shelf until he located the small glass bottle. He pulled out the stopper and was greeted by a yummy floral scent.

"Lavender?" Ed muttered.

"Jasmine," Stede replied, as he tucked himself back into his breeches.

"And why, Mr Bonnet, do you have this stashed away in here?"

A blush crept up Stede's cheeks, which was pretty fucking cute considering what they'd just gotten up to. "Oh hush," he said. "Now come on over here and let me take care of you."

Ed bounded over, vibrating out of his skin with the anticipation of Stede's touch. Stede reclined back against the arm of the couch, spreading his legs wide to make space for Ed. He patted the space between his legs.

"I thought maybe… it might work if you sit here and lean back against me?"

Ed did as instructed, settling himself with his back to Stede's chest. Stede plucked the little lotion jar from his hand, setting it aside for the moment.

It turned out, Ed's many, many hours of imagining Stede touching him had not prepared him for the reality of Stede's fingers grazing his neck as he swept Ed's hair aside. Jesus Christ, if even that small touch was enough to pull a full-body shiver from him, then he had no fucking clue how he was gonna survive Stede touching his cock. Still, it'd be a hell of a way to go. It'd beat belly-flopping into a volcano, at any rate.

Stede's lips pressed against Ed's neck, seeking out a secret little spot behind his beard that hadn't been touched in decades. His breath hitched involuntarily as a tingle of pleasure radiated through his entire body.

Stede held one hand lightly against Ed's belly while the other trailed from his shoulder to his sternum, following the line of his clavicle as Stede continued to drop open-mouthed kisses on his neck. Ed felt half undone already, cock straining against his breeches, and Stede had barely touched him.

"Fuck, Stede," Ed moaned, as the hand upon his chest worked its way beneath the vee of his shirt, fingers seeking out a nipple. "Is this how you like to touch yourself?"

Stede hummed against his neck, right before rolling Ed's nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Ed's hips rocked against thin air of their own volition, seeking any kind of friction.

"Stede, I need —"

"Patience, darling. I intend to take my time with you."

The words were soft, yet they were wrapped around a steel core, faint echoes of "Stand down, Edward" vibrating through them. Ed whined — a piteous sound that he didn't even know he was capable of making. Over the next several minutes (hours? Days? Who fucking knew?), Stede played him like a fiddle, drawing out all manner of squeaks and groans with lips and hands and fingertips that had yet to stray below the belt line.

"Please, Stede," Ed begged when he couldn't take it any longer. "Please, baby, I need you to touch me."

"I believe I am touching you, Edward," Stede murmured, the teasing smirk audible in his voice.

"My cock, Stede! Please, please touch my cock," Ed pleaded.

"Don't worry, darling, I've got you. Now be a good boy and take yourself out for me," Stede instructed, while he grasped for the little glass jar.

Ed couldn't open his fall front fast enough, fingers scrabbling at the fiddly fucking buttons and clasps that held it all together. He couldn't hold back the hiss as his hot, throbbing cock was exposed to the relatively cool air.

"Oh, Edward, you are magnificent," Stede sighed in awed tones, as he peered over Ed's shoulder.

"It's just a dick, mate," Ed deflected. He never had been able to take a compliment.

The scent of jasmine permeated the air as Stede warmed the lotion in his palm. Ed feared he would never be able to smell that smell again without getting instantly hard.

"I beg to differ. It's a part of you, and so that makes it magnificent. Exquisite. Resplendent."

Whatever comeback was about to fly out of Ed's mouth was cut short by a gasp as Stede's slick hand finally wrapped itself around his shaft. The relief was almost overwhelming as Stede began slowly stroking him.

Ed reached behind him with one hand, entwining his fingers with the golden curls at the nape of Stede's neck. He allowed his other hand to slide up his own shirt, dipping beneath the fabric to play across the shape of his pecs and tease at his nipples.

"Does this feel good, Edward?" Stede asked, a hint of insecurity creeping into his voice. "You said to touch you how I touch myself…"

"So fucking good, Stede," Ed sighed. And then, because apparently this whole situation had severed the link between his mouth and his brain, he blurted "What do you think about when you do this to yourself?"

Stede's hand faltered, just for a moment.

"Fuck, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked that. That shit's private. You don't have to—"

"You," Stede said, emphatically, falling back into his rhythm. "Lately, I think about you."

All of the air was punched out of Ed's lungs by Stede's confession. Words gone. Thoughts gone. Ed temporarily gone.

"Ed?" Stede asked, in a quiet voice. "Is that okay? It is okay that I think of you while I touch myself?"

"Stede, your hand is literally on my dick right now. 'Course it's okay, man. It's more than okay. It's great, actually. Fucking peachy."

"Yeah?" Stede asked, with a twist of his wrist that pulled a groan from somewhere deep inside of Ed's core.

"Yes, fuck yes. Want you to think about me," Ed panted, as Stede's free hand tweaked a nipple.

"Can I tell you what I imagine?" asked Stede.

This was gonna be over pretty fucking quick if Stede started describing the contents of his wank bank, but Ed was not strong enough to refuse an offer like that.

"Yes, baby, yes. Please tell me," Ed pleaded.

"Sometimes it's simple," Stede began, in a voice like honey. "I close my eyes and allow myself to imagine that it's your hand in place of mine. And sometimes I imagine falling to my knees for you, sucking your cock until you shake apart and spill down my throat."

The utter incongruity of hearing such a filthy string of words spoken in Stede's voice set Ed's blood ablaze. He was walking the knife edge, his body incapable of doing anything but chasing its pleasure. His hips began bucking into Stede's fist, who responded by firming his grip and picking up the pace. Soon, the auxiliary wardrobe was filled with the lewd, wet sounds of Stede's hand working Ed's cock and Ed's heaving, gasping breaths.

"Sometimes I imagine you pressing your cock inside of me, filling me up over and over..."

"Jesus fuck, Stede!" Ed yelled. Stede's free hand snaked down Ed's torso, reaching into his unfastened breeches. Ed's balls tightened in Stede's palm, a sure sign that he was fast approaching the apex of his pleasure. One more filthy sentence from Stede was sure to tip him over the edge.

"And sometimes I'm the one fucking you," Stede continued, voice low and dripping with desire. "I watch your eyes roll back as you come on my cock, and I am helpless but to spill over my own fist."

And that? Yep. That did it.

Ed came on a shout, back arching and toes curling through the most earth-shattering orgasm of his entire life. Stede worked him through it, murmuring half-heard praises into the shell of Ed's ear until Ed grasped his wrist to still him, as he approached the cusp of overstimulation.

From fuck knew where, Stede produced a silken handkerchief, which he used to clean his own hand and Ed's stomach. When he was done, he tucked Ed away and gathered him in his arms.

Ed's first thought as the post-nut clarity descended upon him was that Stede's gorgeous shirt must be well and truly ruined. Before he could quite form the words to apologise, though, he realised that Stede had had the foresight to ruck up the shirt at some point during the festivities, sparing the delicate fabric from the mess. Ed sighed, relaxing back into Stede's arms as his heart rate slowed and his breathing returned to normal.

The serenity was short-lived, though, as a dozen questions ambushed Ed's mind at once. What was this to Stede? A one-time thing? A fuck buddies kind of situation? A shameful secret that would forever be confined to the auxiliary wardrobe?

Fuck. Ed was a fucking idiot. He should have known better. Should have actually had that conversation with Stede before tasting him, when there was still a chance of walking away with his heart mostly intact.

Stede's fingers cupped Ed's cheek, sinking into the curls of his beard. He gently turned Ed's head and drew him into a slow, indulgent kiss. It didn't seem like the kind of kiss you'd share with someone after a casual fumble. But then, Stede was different than anyone Ed had ever known, wasn't he? Maybe this was how fancy blokes kissed their fuck buddies all the time.

"Edward," Stede whispered as their lips parted. "You are magnificent."

Ed pulled back a bit, just far enough to look Stede in the eyes. "Stede? What is this to you?" he asked, even though he was terrified of the answer.

Stede's brow furrowed a little. "What do you want it to be?"

"Nuh uh. Not fair. I asked you first," Ed said — a little petulantly, maybe, but there was no way he was gonna let Stede evade the question like that.

"Well," Stede said, slowly and deliberately. "I care about you. Immensely. These past few weeks with you have made me happier than I have ever been in my entire life. So… I think I would like to be committed to you. I'd like to be your partner. Your, erm… your boyfriend?" A blush blossomed across Stede's cheeks as his eyes darted away. "But only if that's something you want, of course."

Ed could not hold back the grin as relief flooded his veins. "I'd actually fucking love that," he said, as he interlaced his fingers with Stede's.

Some unknowable amount of time passed as they gazed sappily into each other's eyes, Stede's thumb gently stroking across the back of Ed's hand.

"Hey, Stede?" Ed asked.

Stede hummed, bringing their joined hands up to his lips to drop little kisses along the back of Ed's knuckles.

"Did you really think about all of those things you said? About me? About us?"

Ed could feel Stede's smile against his knuckles. "Yes. My imagination has become quite overactive since you joined us aboard the Revenge."

"Fuck, man. Hearing you say those things, it was… well, it was so unexpected."

Stede tensed a little, pausing in his voyage across Ed's knuckles. "I know I may lack practical experience," he bristled, "but I'm not completely naive about the ways in which two men can be together."

Ed twisted to face him properly. "No, that's not what — I didn't mean to imply that you're naive, Stede. I just meant that, well, you're impossible to read, man! I had no idea you'd been thinking of me that way."

Stede instantly softened. "Oh. Well, I didn't dare to make my feelings known, because I didn't think you could possibly be interested in someone like me."

"Someone like — Okay, so first of all, you're fucking hot, Stede. And kind, and smart, and an absolute fucking lunatic. Of course I'd be interested in someone like you."

Stede let out a soft little "oh" at that, his eyes shining as Ed's words settled over him.

"Second of all, I've been flirting with you for weeks, man! I've practically bent myself over the railing and shown hole for you, Stede!"

Stede's face screwed up in utter bemusement. "What? You were flirting? When?"

"Babe," Ed deadpanned. "I told you to take your sword and run me through."

Stede's face went on an epic voyage, confusion giving way to understanding before finally settling on a sort of embarrassed incredulity. "That was a sex thing?!" he squeaked.

"Jesus, Stede. Yes, it was a sex thing!"

The two men dissolved into a fit of giggles, giddy with the newfound knowledge that their feelings were reciprocated.

When the giggles subsided, Stede reached out, laying a hand gently on top of the cluster of scar tissue on Ed's belly. "You could have told me, you nut. Instead of making me stab you."

Ed shrugged, a little embarrassed in hindsight that he had gone to such extreme lengths just to get Stede to hold him. "Yeah, well… I know that now. But I was scared that, if I'd gotten it wrong, I might lose the best friend I'd ever had."

Stede's face broke out into a broad grin, every bit as dazzling the sun at its zenith. "Oh, Ed. You're my best friend, too."

Ed reluctantly extricated himself from Stede. Much as he'd like to stay in this closet forever and tick a few of Stede's fantasies off the list (and his own, too), they did have captain shit to do, and Ed needed to change before heading back up on deck. Besides, they had time now. Time to explore each others' bodies at their leisure; time to try anything and everything that their imaginations could conjure up. And for now, before they had to leave this impossible, hidden space and rejoin the crew in the real world, they just about had time for one more kiss.