Chapter Text
Stede couldn’t stop thinking about Ed, which was a rather terrible new occurrence for him as Stede was well known for being able to properly distract himself. Sure, Stede had previously found himself thinking frequently of others, particularly early on with his crew, each bloke had gotten at least an hour of Stede’s mind space.
Pirates truly were a fascinating bunch.
And Ed, Blackbeard, whichever he seemed to fancy, may be the most interesting of them all. He just had the air, something that Stede was comfortable to admit that he had yet (mind you) to achieve. It may not be fully accurate to claim that it was just Ed that had eaten up his mind in the recent hours.
It was his back.
*
Goodness, that sounded even worse. His mark. Since being on the ship, Stede had gotten used to seeing his crew mate’s marks. Not all, but many of them seemed to think little of hiding them, it had sent a shiver up Stede’s spine the first day, and it made his arm ache terribly.
Ed had been rather covered when Stede had awaken. It had nearly been relieving to see as much, even as it felt like his chest was collapsing all over again.
He had felt like a ruffled fool rather quickly, his shirt plundered open and damp with his own sweat. What a way to meet a new friend. But at least his sleeves, though loose and tattered, had not ruined his bandage. Meanwhile, Ed looked perfectly together, comfortable at the foot of a stranger’s bed, relaxed as he listened to Stede.
Stede had assumed quite quickly that he may find himself stuck on Ed for some time, fascinated by him and his reactions.
But then, it was all shot to hell.
Want to do something weird? It was said like a shared plan, the explanation given quick and light. Stede had never had someone plan a joke with him. A little joke on the crew, a play without a stage. He could become Blackbeard! If but for a moment. Stede had turned to his closet to help with the changing process, and he was not surprised to see the ease of which Ed had begun stripping his leathers.
The jacket went first, Stede told himself not to look, even if it meant little to Ed, it was rude.
But as the shirt crawled up Ed’s back, the man himself chatting about how funny fucking Izzy is going to look, a right riot, a perfect bloom was exposed on his spine.
Stede had not seen many bloomed soul marks, but he especially had not seen such a lovely and busy mark like this either. Ed’s flower was so full of blooms that Stede couldn’t have even considered what the stem may have looked like. The color was a gentle pink, the bloom flowed down his back in an uncountable amount of petals. It was nearly delicate along his skin, vibrant in a way that his tattoos weren’t.
He felt gobsmacked, eyes wide, fully staring like a right twat. His breath had caught loud enough to catch Ed’s attention.
“You alright, mate?” brows furrowed into an expression that pulled more toward stern than concerned, as if he was unfamiliar with it.
“I—well, yes.” Stede blurted, instinctively shrugging his own shirt up and over his head, bandage still in place on his forearm. He watched as Ed’s pursed lips pulled into a lazy smirk, eyes glinting.
“Oh, like something you see then?” it had to be a joke, lazy and focused eyes locked onto him. Stede’s face felt too warm, he expected he was a deeper pink that the lovely flower he had just seen. Ed had met his soulmate, how wonderful for him.
“Your mark!” Stede started far too strongly, clearing his throat at how fast he saw Ed’s face go from a playful smirk to sharp wariness. “It is rather brilliant, that pink is lovely!” he quickly went on, flushing further and folding his shirt to place it aside for Ed. God, he just called his mark lovely, Stede was preparing himself to leap overboard at the first chance. He shifted to reach for Ed’s shirt, not looking at the man for his response.
Ed was quiet for some time, an extended breath in, but as Stede prepared to apologize. Ed cut in, swaying on his boots slightly.
“Shit, I forgot I went without and you seem—” Without, Stede furrowed his brows before he looked at Ed. Ed had begun to loosen the laces of his leather britches, instead of underclothes being exposed, all Stede could see was another inch of skin beneath his belly. Stede quickly turned away fully once again, body tensing a bit.
“Right! The ensuite would do you well then.” He gestures to another door, a space for his personal bath. “I should have thought of it sooner, might make it easier.”
Ed gave a casual hum and strode to the bathroom with Stede’s shirt in hand.
*
A full fucking bath beside the captain’s quarters, a bath larger than some quarters that Ed had seen on ships he had taken down. This man was mental, he was sure of it, but Ed had bigger worries. One had been nestled on the back of his spine that suddenly had a meeting with the obnoxiously large mirror placed within the room.
After some sharp picking, Ed did discover that Stede had a matching hand mirror as he had hoped. He quickly put his back to the large mirror, the hand mirror held up high as he shoved his hair aside with his other hand.
He had not thought of his flower in years, except for some weeks ago when he was preparing to cast the whole thing of soulmates aside and maybe scratch the thing off of him.
The stem had always been the same, covered in delicate leaves and tons of shitty bulbs. He didn’t need to see something that wouldn’t change. But as his eyes focused, able to see his own back better than he had perhaps ever.
His mark had changed.
Instead of the exposing stem, flowers sprung up along his back, the petals so numerous that instead of the thin line he was used to, his mark took up the whole space between his shoulder blades. The petals were a gentle blush of color, sweet in some ways. Every flower, newly bloomed, were surrounded by their other bulbs, not a gap of space in the oval made by the flowers together.
Ed thought his heart might stop.
When did this happen? Wasn’t he supposed to be aware when it goddamn bloomed? What fucking shit was this?
At least, his soulmate wasn’t dead. The flower had bloomed and it sat strong in place.
God, he was fucked.
Wait, why did he even care? He was fucking Blackbeard and that meant that he didn’t feel shit for shit.
No matter the weird warmth in his chest, maybe he had worms. Sea worms. Like little sea dragons, blowing fire into his chest cavity.
Had God punished him by letting him meet his truth only to not notice? What fucking God is that?
It didn’t matter. A soft knock came to the door.
“Ah, Ed, I left my pair of britches for you, just need to peek out and grab them.” The soft voice called to match the knock. Ed quickly shrugged on the white shirt that was so flowy in comparison to the stiff leathers, followed but a rather graceless removal of his pants.
“Right.” He said aloud as he tugged the door open a crack to toss out his leathers while picking up Stede’s pants and the fresh stockings left for him. He shut the door quick as a whip after without much more said.
*
Ed had more to worry about than his fucking back or why Stede had that piece of silk around his arm. The Spanish were nearly on them but through his genius (and Stede being surprisingly intuitive), Blackbeard had once again got away with it all.
He didn’t have time to think about anything other than the rum (which he was sharing with Stede) and the feeling of success on the seas. More fun than he had had in years.
But when he finally slipped into sleep, Stede’s snores coming from his bed. Ed dreamed of giggling pink.