Chapter Text
This has to be it now, Ed thinks. The end of…whatever this has been. Can you really call what they’ve been doing a fake date? Is it a date at all? Mini golf with your pretend boyfriend and his kids must be in a category all its own.
While Ed is running through the possibilities in his mind, trying to think of a way to ensure he’ll see Stede again ASAP, Stede saves him the trouble: “Before we go, I wanted to ask you,” he begins.
Ed nods encouragingly. “Hit me.”
“There are all kinds of events this coming week to celebrate the Ethnic Studies program, and lots of my colleagues are joint-appointed there,” Stede says. “There’s a reception on Wednesday I feel like I should attend. Hors d’oeuvres, cash bar, that sort of thing.” Stede pauses, just briefly, looking at Ed with a hopeful smile. “I’d love it if you’d come with me.”
Ed smirks slightly. “Ethnic Studies, huh? Need a person of color on your arm for that event?” He’s been having too many feelings this afternoon, so he can’t resist joking around a bit. Time to make things less serious.
But Stede gasps, eyes bugging out of his head. Ed muses that he’s never seen someone look quite as horrified as Stede does right now. He’s gaping at Ed, seeming absolutely stricken.
“Oh god! Oh no, Ed!” Stede hastens to add. “Nothing like that!” He seems ready to spiral.
“Stede! Relax! S’alright,” Ed says with a chuckle, reaching over and patting his shoulder. “Just giving you a hard time. Don’t make it so easy, mate.”
Stede laughs ruefully. “I couldn’t bear it if you actually believed that, Ed. Truly.”
“I don’t. Though maybe I need to worry about the amount of white guilt you have.” Ed raises a questioning eyebrow.
“I don’t think it’s any more than the appropriate amount,” Stede replies, with a crooked smile. “Anyway, I’ve never been very good at those things. All the professional socializing. It’s a miracle I even got tenure. Every cocktail hour was so stressful.” Stede fiddles with the cuff of his jacket a bit. “But I want to support my colleagues and the program, you know?”
Ed doesn’t want Stede to feel as though he has to keep dredging up bad memories, so he offers his most encouraging grin. “If a plus one will help, happy to do it.”
“Great!!” Stede says, so loudly a squirrel starts chastising them again. He looks around in alarm, then lowers his voice to a normal tone, speaking with studied casualness. “It starts at four in the afternoon. Maybe we can go at half past four?”
“Sounds good. Do have to teach my grad seminar that evening, but I can hang out for an hour.”
“Dad! Are you coming?” Alma shouts impatiently. She and Louis are already halfway to Stede’s car in the lot, having grown tired of waiting.
“Yes, yes, coming,” Stede shouts back. Then he beams at Ed. “Awesome. I’ll text you the details.”
Ed smiles back, delighted to know they’ll be together again in just a few days. “Can’t wait.”
***
Stede’s feeling unusually cheerful as he catches up with his children and starts up his car. “Everyone buckled in?” he asks, brightly.
“Yeah. But it’s so unfair that Alma gets the good seat,” Lou grumbles, from the back.
“It’s mine no matter what. You’re not old enough, Lou,” Alma says, in a tone that’s more condescending than it needs to be.
“‘You’re not old enough, Lou,’” he echoes, in an exaggerated, mocking way.
“Enough, both of you!” Stede says sternly. He’s trying to enjoy the afterglow of spending time with Ed; their arguing is raining on his parade, and he’s not here for it. “It is what it is, okay? When you’re thirteen, Lou, you two can take turns. Until Alma can drive.” A terrifying thought, but that’s future Stede’s problem.
Right now, present Stede can’t help but think about what would put both children in the back seat.
Like…hmm…another adult in the car.
Someone about six feet tall, maybe, with tempting salt-and-pepper curls, gorgeous brown eyes, and a wicked sense of humor. As a totally random example.
But Stede’s not about to mention this, of course. Being the cause of them both being relegated to the back would be unlikely to endear Ed to them.
Besides which—Ed isn’t even his real boyfriend. Stede’s getting ahead of himself, as usual.
Nevertheless, as he thinks back on the afternoon, Stede can’t help but smile. His bickering children fade into the background as he reflects on how much fun it was. He’s thrilled he thought of asking Ed to come along on this outing.
It was, perhaps, a risky maneuver, involving Ed in a family activity, but it turned out so beautifully. Ed seemed surprisingly nervous at the start, but he got along so well with both children; it was utterly delightful. That he asked for some of Stede’s pictures is the sweetest thing. And—as much as it’s Stede’s tendency to doubt everything of the kind—Ed was definitely flirting with him.
Not that that’s anything new, of course. Stede thinks back to their ceramics class, and all the unhinged things Ed said that evening. Maybe it’s just how Ed is.
Either way—Stede loves it.
Someone who thinks he’s worth flirting with is a wonderful novelty. He’s so here for it. Stede hums and smiles happily to himself.
“Is Ed your boyfriend?” Alma asks, out of nowhere, startling Stede out of his blissful reminiscing. The suddenness of her question nearly makes him jump out of his skin.
The answer, however, is straightforward: “No, he isn’t,” Stede replies. That’s an accurate response, as chagrined as he is to give it.
“But you want him to be, don’t you?” Stede glances over at her; she has a keen look in her eyes.
Why does she have to be so smart? Stede reflects wryly. It’d be so much easier if she weren’t this perceptive. “Yes, I do,” he replies, in a quiet voice. No point in lying about it, to his daughter or to himself.
He adores Ed. He wants to spend every waking moment with him. (Every sleeping moment, too. Stede can barely stand to think about waking up in Ed’s arms or vice versa, he aches for it so badly.)
“I hope it works out for you,” Alma says, quite matter-of-factly. “No matter how much ‘English or Spanish?’ crap I hear at school.”
Oh, how that warms Stede’s heart. He’s pulling into the parking lot of his apartment building now; as soon as he’s stopped the car, he looks over at her and smiles. “That means a lot, Alma. Thank you.”
As much as they butt heads pretty much constantly, he appreciates how spirited and independent she is. And her rebellious streak makes her resistant to peer pressure and ambient homophobia, too. His daughter doesn’t like anyone to tell her what to think or do, and Stede is so proud. If he’d had half her gumption at her age, his entire life would’ve been different.
But then she and her brother would never have existed. And that, too, would be a shame.
At the end of the day, all Stede can do is change the future, not the past. And his future is looking more promising than it has for a long time. He and Ed click so well every time they’re together, and he even has his daughter’s blessing. Maybe, by some miracle, he can make this happen.
Stede can’t wait for the reception.