Chapter Text
Ed’s favorite blanket has lost its powers.
As soon as he’d gotten back to his apartment, he’d dropped his duffel bag to the floor and immediately dove into his couch so he could wrap himself up in its thick, snuggly warmth. It’s an oversized faux fur blanket in a rich turquoise, the softest thing he’s ever touched (except, perhaps, for Stede’s hair), and it’s so heavy that it makes Ed feel a bit like a medieval prince whenever he walks around his apartment with it draped over his shoulders. But, even more importantly, it makes him feel small and safe and protected from the world around him.
Except for today, when all it does is feel like it’s about to suffocate him.
Ed tosses it to the floor and shuffles to his home studio. The act of creation has always helped when he’s got something he needs to forget. He could sketch out some new designs, go through his inventory, maybe even get started on some of the commissions he’d delayed so he could go to that fucking camp. He could make something beautiful, distract his mind from all the hurt and betrayal and grief that’s threatening to consume him.
Except an hour later, all he’s accomplished is making a dozen friendship bracelets, the crown jewel of which is one made of black and white thread with the words TRUST NO ONE spelled out in tiny beads, flanked by a pair of skulls.
Ed groans and shoves the bracelet to the side. It’s fucking pointless. As if there’s anything that could help him forget everything he’s lost. No piece of jewelry could excise all thoughts of Stede Bonnet from his mind; no blanket could ever come close to replicating the feeling of being held and loved and cherished in his arms.
He’s just… alone. Again.
And the worst part of it is that everything Stede said made complete sense. Because, yeah, he’s fucking miserable now. He’s lost his best friend, his lover, and all his hopes and dreams for the future, all because he was stupid enough to believe for even an instant that he was someone who was worthy of a happily ever after. His life, which had finally been filled with color after so many years of existing only in the shadows, stretches before him, bleak and empty.
Then for Stede to have the fucking audacity to say they could just go back to being friends. Friends! As if Ed could look at Stede and not think about the way he made him come alive under his touch. As if he could ever stop hearing the way Stede’s voice sounded when he shyly confessed the moment he fell in love with him. As if Ed could ever cast aside all the daydreams and fantasies he had of what their lives might look like together. Hell, everywhere he looks in his apartment he sees Stede. Sees him preparing tea at the stove, sees him with his long, glorious legs all akimbo on the couch as he hunts for the remote, sees him arranging flowers in a vase at the kitchen table. And all these images do is make Ed want to forget the past has ever happened.
“Fuck this,” Ed mutters. He storms off to his bedroom and throws open his closet door. He can’t fucking stay here. He’ll book a hotel for the night, maybe a week, and while he’s there he’ll get on the old Google and figure out his destination. If Stede isn’t going to take a world tour, Ed certainly can. What point is there sticking around just to be haunted by memories of what will never be?
Ed begins throwing his clothing onto his bed. Shirts, sweaters, jackets, jeans. All of it comes out. Maybe it would have made sense to find a box first to put it all in, but this feels more satisfying. Out with the old, in with the… well, there’s no in yet. It’s just out, out, out! He just has to—
A large bag of something topples off the top shelf and smacks his face before falling to the floor.
And all around Ed is fuchsia glitter.
“Fuck…” Ed moans.
It’s his Stede bag: the five pounds of glitter where he stashed his old cell phone so he wouldn’t be tempted to respond to any of Stede’s messages. It had been perfectly hidden away for months. It just fucking figures it’d come crashing down today of all days and make a huge fucking mess he’d probably never be able to fully clean up.
It feels like a bit of a metaphor, but Ed’s too annoyed to examine that any further now.
Ed looks down at the floor. There, lying amidst all the glitter, is his old phone.
And it’s powering on.
“Fucking hell,” Ed mutters. “Had to hit the floor at just the right angle, didn’t you?”
Cautiously, as though it might explode even more glitter (or something far more dangerous), he picks it up and watches as the screen comes back to life. There’s a sharp pang in his chest at the quick glimpse of the wallpaper — a shot of him and Stede at the Bigfoot exhibit — before his phone nearly vibrates out of his hand with a flurry of notifications.
Stede.
Stede.
Stede Stede Stede Stede Stede Stede Stede Stede.
Ed’s poor phone. First put into a glittery coma, now about to die by Stede Bonnet notifications. The indignity of it all.
Eventually, however, the buzzing stops, and Ed stares at it in his hand. He could just hide it again. Find a sack of rice or shove it in the freezer or something. Maybe run out to the craft store and buy an even bigger bag of glitter. Or, hell, he could do something a little more permanent and smash it with a hammer.
But…
He opens the text messages and scrolls all the way up, through what has to be hundreds of thousands of messages, until he reaches the date he’s looking for.
I just came back from your apartment. I saw you left me your pikorua. Message received, I guess.
I know it’s my fault, that I fucked everything up. I just couldn’t stand not kissing you for a second longer. But it was wrong of me to risk what we share. Our friendship means everything to me, Ed. Everything. And now I can’t fathom no longer having you in my life. I keep pacing around my house and all I can think is how very WRONG it feels, like I got sucked through a wormhole into some kind of parallel universe where nothing makes sense.
But please know that no matter what, even if our paths never cross again, you’ll always be my very best friend. I hope you don’t mind if I continue writing you? You can always block me if you’d rather not see. But for now… I suppose I’ll just keep hoping maybe one day you’ll write back.
Sniffing, Ed continues scrolling through the messages. They range from the mundane
You know, work is so much more boring now that I can’t just fuck off and go hang out with you instead.
to the amusing
Fuck bananas in particular.
to the deeply relatable
Ed, I’m afraid I’m a terrible person. I just ruin everything I touch. Why was I even put on this planet if all I do is cause pain and misery? [and then an hour later] Never mind that last message. I took a shower and had a sammy and I’m feeling much better now.
to the ones that make Ed’s heart clench
I miss you so much. All I want to do is cry to my best friend because I got my heart broken, except that’s YOU, and I CAN’T. Fuck, Ed. I’d do anything to have you back in my life.
Stede’s messages are bizarrely sweet,
Sometimes I wish I were an octopus. Or maybe not an octopus because I think I’d like to keep my chest. I’ve been working out a lot to fill the time and I’m quite pleased with it. ANYWAY. I’d like it if my lower half were just tentacles. And I’d wrap them all around you and never let you go. That’s not weird, is it?
and despondent,
Sometimes I think I’m afraid to see you again. I’m afraid that your life is so much better without me.
and filled with tenderness,
I just wish I knew you were okay. You know you can trust me with anything, right? I want you to be okay, Ed. I want to take care of you.
and desperation,
If you’re mad at me, I wish you’d just FIGHT me. Let it all out. Yell at me. Tell me all the ways I fucked up. I can take it, Ed. I swear it! But what I can’t take is never seeing you again.
and hope
You know, it’s been months, but there’s a part of me that’s still convinced we’re not over.
And then, there’s the final one:
Lucius told me I had to stop moping around and do something with my life, so I am. Don’t get me wrong, there’s still a part of me that hopes you’ll show up tomorrow, but I think I have to come to terms with the fact that may not happen. So I put together this little retreat for fellow… well, people like me, I suppose. People who are feeling a bit lonely and looking for some kind of connection? I wish you could be there. Although I suppose if you were, there’d be no need for the retreat. Anyway. I hope you’re having a good day, wherever you are. Still thinking of you. I suspect I always will.
Ed’s face is wet by the time he’s done reading. Fuck, how he loves this man. And, yeah, maybe Stede’s a bit of a mess, but so is he. It’s part of the reason they clicked so well from the start; they’ve both spent most of their lives with nothing but their own self-loathing thoughts to keep them company. And then there they were, trying to fight all those same thoughts while also opening up to another for the first time… of course they were going to fuck it up.
He loves Stede, and Stede loves him. They’re best friends. The rest is all just semantics.
Now, he just has to get back to the camp and—
The phone begins vibrating in his hands.
“Shit,” Ed says. It’s an unknown number, but it has to be Stede, right? He holds the phone up to his ear, heedless of the glitter. “Stede?”
“Stede? No. Is he with you?”
Ed frowns. A woman’s voice is not at all what he expected to hear. “No. Who is this?”
“Oh. It’s Mary. Mary Allamby. I think we met briefly a couple of times.”
Ah, right. Mary. With the brown hair. And the face. No smile at the moment, though. Well, this is a plot twist. “Yeah. Mary. Hey.” He pauses. “How’d you get my number?”
“I pulled it from Stede’s emergency contact,” she says. “I hope you don’t mind.”
Ed knows he was Stede’s emergency contact, remembers clearly the day Stede had asked him almost shyly if he’d mind putting him down as they made their way to Stede’s first Pride parade, but the fact that Stede hasn’t changed it makes him feel all warm inside nonetheless. “No, it’s fine. What’s up?”
“I’ve been trying to reach Stede and Lucius for days, but I haven’t been able to get through.”
“Oh, yeah,” Ed says, “Shit signal at the camp. Middle of nowhere.”
“Camp?”
“Ah, I mean, empowerment retreat? Not sure what the official title was. But at the campgrounds.”
“What are you talking about?” Mary asks. “Ricky said Stede had taken Lucius with him on a vacation to Tulum.”
Ed frowns. “No, Stede was running a thing— a retreat to help people feel better about themselves by way of roasting s’mores and telling ghost stories.”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Mary says. “Okay. Well, any chance you can get a hold of him? Preferably immediately?”
“I can try,” Ed says. “But like I said, pretty much no calls or emails get through. Why? What’s going on? Is he in trouble?”
Ed barely even knows Mary, but he can hear her eyes roll through the phone. “Ricky managed to convince the board chair to have an emergency meeting this afternoon. He wants them to bring a vote to remove Stede from his position due to severe ethics violations.”
“What?!” Ed exclaims. “That’s fucking bullshit. On what grounds?”
“Actually, it involves you,” Mary says. “Apparently Ricky just happened to find a letter you wrote to Stede that heavily implied you had some kind of… sexual entanglement.”
“What the fuck?” Ed breathes. He doesn’t know how this fucking Ricky may have gotten his grubby little hands on his letter, but it turns his stomach that he saw it before evidently even Stede did.
“I know,” Mary says. “The company is clearly stuck in the 18th century, but Stede’s father was an ass, and there are some rather draconian bylaws in the company charter pertaining to the morals of senior leadership that haven’t been amended since his passing. Technically, they do have grounds to remove Stede, and it’ll be much easier to do so if he’s not even in the room when it happens.”
“Fuck!” And look: Ed’s not overly fond of the fact that Stede’s still working at the company his hateful fucking dickfuck of a father forced him into like some kind of disgusting punishment for being —well— for being Stede, and all that entailed, but he’ll be damned if he sits by and sees him forced back out by people who don’t understand the first thing about him, people who don’t realize how— how brave Stede is, and resilient, and fucking heartbreakingly beautiful. After all he’s been through, Stede, more than fucking anyone, has a right to choose how he leaves, and not be forced to. And certainly not because of common or garden homophobia. Plain and simple. “Fuck!”
“Agreed,” Mary says. “Shit. That’s Chauncey on the other line, I have to take this. I’ll text you the details of the meeting. See if you can get Stede there?”
Ed is pulling up Stede’s number before they even end the call. He doesn’t care if he has to drive back to the camp and haul Stede back himself; he’s not about to let them fuck Stede over like this.
The phone doesn’t even ring once before Stede picks up. “Ed! Is that really you?”
“Yeah,” Ed says. He’s stunned the call managed to get through, but perhaps the universe was finally smiling upon them. “Listen. You have to come back.”
“I’m already on my way.”
“What?” Ed asks, confused. “I didn’t even tell you why yet.”
“You don’t have to,” Stede says. “I’ve already lost you once. I’m not about to lose you again.”
If the circumstances weren’t so dire, Ed would have swooned right then and there, just fallen directly in the pool of fuchsia glitter and accepted his fate to be forever weak in the knees at every word that escapes Stede’s perfect mouth. As it is, he commits the phrase to memory so he can have a proper swoon (and perhaps a proper wank) later over it.
“That’s… that’s brilliant, Stede. Just meet me at your office, okay?”
“Meet you at… Ed, what are you talking about?” Stede sputters. “Why the hell would we go to the office?”
“The board’s trying to force you out,” Ed says. “They’re holding a meeting this afternoon. We have to stop them.”
“What in the…?” There’s the sound of a turn signal, and then a muffled curse. “Okay, fine. I should be there in about twenty minutes.”
“Twenty…” Ed looks at the time. “When’d you leave, Stede?”
“Before the sun came up this morning,” Stede says. “I tried to go last night but Lucius stole my keys and said I wasn’t fit for driving. But I just had to see you as soon as I could.”
It’s a little embarrassing just how much Ed has cried over Stede Bonnet this morning alone, but thankfully, he’s never been the type to give a fuck. Stede came after him. I’d do anything to have you back in my life, he’d written. “Stede.”
“Shit, I just missed my exit,” Stede says. “I’ll see you there, Ed. It’s all going to be okay. I promise.”
And when the call ends, Ed finally feels something like hope.
Ed changes out of his sweats and speeds over to Stede’s office. His beard is still covered with glitter, and he likely has it stuck in crevices in his body he won’t discover for months, but he doesn’t care. Mary had sent him another text that the board had moved up the meeting by two hours, so he and Stede would just be making it in time. Ed would show up in a fucking clown wig and a lime green spandex leotard if it meant Stede could be spared this kind of indignity on his behalf.
His mind is racing a million miles an hour. He can’t wait to see Stede again. He wants to put Ricky through the paper shredder. He’s preparing all the things he’s going to say to Stede. He’s ready to lock the board (sans Mary) in their stupid little boardroom and set it on fire. He’s dreaming of kissing Stede again. He’s wondering if he has time to swing by the cemetery to piss on Mr. Bonnet’s grave. He’s making a mental note to order Stede’s favorite pastries for breakfast.
Ed turns into the office parking lot, and as he does, his eyes catch the friendship bracelet on his wrist. All those beautiful colors that feel so perfectly Stede, knotted together to form a line of perfect little hearts, with one tiny S bead. Because that’s what their friendship is, isn’t it? A bunch of loose threads that when brought together, create something new and beautiful, a million tiny knots of memories and shared experiences tying them together. Rows upon rows of connections, from which a romantic love takes shape. A love that’s uniquely theirs.
Ed brings his wrist to his lips and kisses the S bead.
This is simply another layer of their friendship.
They’ll be just fine.
The closest spots by the entrance are all filled up with Audis and BMWs and Teslas, which makes Ed think he may be too late to beat the rest of the board members there. Still, he finds the closest spot he can and hops out of his car and runs to the front door, not willing to waste another second.
And slams directly into somebody warm and solid and whole.
“Stede!” Ed gasps, except he isn’t able to get the word out, isn’t even fully able to take in Stede’s face, before Stede is kissing him breathless.
And fuck, it feels good to be back in his arms, to breathe in his scent, to feel his heart pounding against his own. Ed can’t stop touching him — he cups his face, he runs his hands down his sides, he grabs his ass and tugs him even closer. And with every kiss his soul shouts yes, yes, yes.
“Stede,” Ed whispers when they finally part. “I love you,” he says, because he has to say it, wants to scream it to the world so it knows and won’t dare to ever rip them apart, but for now, a hushed vow in the middle of a corporate parking lot will have to do. “I love you.”
“Oh, Ed,” Stede says, cupping Ed’s cheek. “I know that. I’ve always known that.”
Ed smiles, and is just about to lean in for another kiss when he feels himself being yanked backwards. “What the—”
“I do love a good romance, but now’s not the time.” A petite woman, who somehow has the strength of somehow twice her size, glares up at him. “The meeting’s already started.”
Ed swears under his breath. “Stede, look, if you need to deny it, it’s fine. I won’t take offense. You just —”
Stede holds up a hand. “I’ll handle this, Edward.” He turns back to the woman, who, Ed notices a bit belatedly, has brown hair and a face. “Hello, Mary. Good to see you again.”
“Stede.” She steps back and looks him up and down. “Why are you covered in glitter?”
“Shit,” Ed says. Indeed, Stede is covered head to toe in bright pink glitter — his face, his hair, his lavender sweater, and his plum trousers (which, in fact, have a really unfortunate splotch of it right at the crotch that looks a bit like an octopus). “That’s my fault. Do you have a change of clothes?”
“Don’t need one,” Stede says. “This way they won’t be able to look away.” And then, with a dangerous smirk and an even more dangerous waggle of his eyebrows, he cracks open the door.
The board is just how Ed imagined them: a bunch of humorless sad sacks who look less like human beings and more like cold porridge that’s been shoved into latex gloves and then twisted about until they vaguely resemble something sentient. (Except for Mary. She actually seems rather lovely. Strange how she got tangled into this whole mess.) Standing at the front of the room is a blond man who might be considered conventionally attractive if his face wasn’t so desperately begging for a punch.
“As you can see,” the man is saying, as he gestures toward something being projected on the far wall, “this letter makes it perfectly clear that Stede Bonnet was engaging in licentious and aberrant behavior that is most unbecoming of the head of Bonnet Enterprises.”
Stede shoves the door open and walks into the room. No, not walks. Saunters, the fucking unbelievably gorgeous shithead. “Ah, Ricky. I see you’ve found my letter.”
Ed follows Stede into the room, his heart sinking as he sees what’s projected on the wall.
There, in all its pitiful glory, for the entire room of smug dickfucks to see, is the letter he left inside of Stede’s suitcase.
Stede,
I know if I told you this in the morning, you would have gone all noble on me and canceled your flight, so a letter it is.
I think last night was a mistake. And I’m not blaming you at all. Emotions were running high. You with the high of finally being free from your dad, me with… well, with the thrill of thinking maybe I’d finally get to be with you.
But I think we might want different things. And that’s… well, it doesn’t fucking feel okay, but it is. Okay. I mean, I get it. You need to get out there, Stede. You deserve to celebrate your freedom without me bringing you down. I love you too much to let you get stuck with me. So in a way, it’s probably a good thing you’re heading on this trip. The space will do us good.
Have the best fucking time. I mean it.
Take care, mate.
Ed
Ricky has the good grace to turn red. “Mr. Bonnet. You’re back early.”
“Well, I couldn’t miss the board meeting,” Stede says. “After all, it’s required that the principal be in attendance, and that all meetings have at least 48 hours’ notice.”
“We tried reaching you,” Ricky says, sounding entirely unrepentant, “Unfortunately, it seemed you were unavailable.”
“Hmm, yes,” Stede says. “What a coincidence you should have to call an emergency board meeting the very week you encouraged me to be out of office at a location with limited means of communication.”
Ricky purses his lips together. “These things happen, as I’m sure you know as principal.”
“Indeed.”
“Oh, let’s get on with it,” says a bald man sitting near the front. “Bonnet, either change out of those ridiculous glittery clothes or take a bloody seat.”
“I’d rather stand, thanks,” Stede says. “Had a bit of a long drive. You understand. And I daresay I’ve already missed enough of this meeting.”
Ed tries to make eye contact with Stede, but he’s staring down the board. Ed doesn’t think he’s ever seen him quite like this before. But while he’s certain the board members see the light smile on Stede’s face, only Ed can sense the sharpness of his teeth behind it. And to anyone else, Stede’s gaze may be playful and irreverent, but Ed knows it’s only playful in the way a leopard plays with its food before devouring it.
Ed’s never been more turned on in his life.
“Well,” Stede says. “It’s my understanding that a number of you believe my proclivities may be an ethics violation serious enough to warrant my removal from my position.”
Ricky looks like a cat that just ate a bloody canary. Ed can’t wait for him to choke on it.
“And what proclivities may those be?” Ricky asks.
“Oh, you haven’t caught on?” Stede raises his hand to his chest in exaggerated shock. Some glitter sloughs off his sleeve as he does. “I’m in love with that man over there. And, if he’ll have me, I’ll be spending the rest of my life making sure he understands just how in love with him I am, and that he enjoys exactly all of the privileges of that love.”
Fuck. There Ed goes, ready to swoon again. His knees might actually buckle a little bit. He wonders if maybe he can steal one of the board member’s glasses of water.
“As you can imagine, that’s going to keep me very busy,” Stede continues, “And if you decide that’s a conflict of interest and I’m unfit to perform my duties as principal and also perform my duties as Ed Teach’s partner, frankly, I’d rather just get it out of the way now. No sense in wasting all of our time.”
“Exactly,” Ricky says. “Now, if you’ll look in the materials I prepared for you, you’ll also see printouts of Mr. Bonnet’s schedule, where he was regularly meeting with Mr. Teach on company time, including —”
“Yes, it’s important that everyone sees all the evidence,” Stede interjects. “And like I said, if you want to fire me, by all means, go right ahead. I genuinely do not give a single fuck. But in the interest of transparency, I think it’s important to clear the air.”
Stede moves toward the center of the room, which is unnecessary given everyone’s eyes are already locked on him, but it’s rather impressive to see them follow his every step.
“Ricky, I’ll want my letter back,” Stede says. “Which I suspect you found in the outer pocket of my suitcase, right before you so helpfully brought it to me from my office earlier this week.”
Ricky’s face flushes red.
“Now, I suppose you nicked it for the purpose of hoping you’d have a smoking gun in your quest to have me removed, so, my congratulations there. I expect most in this room would also applaud you, as they tend to be ‘the ends justify the means’ types, but I do think it’s important to know how our HR department handles discreet matters, especially since I suspect you’re all hoping it’ll be one of you who assumes my position when I’m gone.”
Stede looks over at Ed and gives him a wink, then begins slowly pacing around the front of the room, leaving a trail of fuchsia glitter in his wake.
“Now, Nigel,” Stede says, “How’s your dear brother doing these days? Is he well?”
Baldie up front lets out a harsh laugh. “Just more proof you’re not fit for this position,” he says. “I’m Chauncey. Nigel is my brother.”
“Oh, silly me,” Stede says with a laugh that sounds like deadly jingle bells. “I must have gotten you mixed up after you stole his identity in order to pay off your gambling debts.”
Chauncey growls and pushes himself out of his seat, but the man next to him grabs him by the shoulder and pushes him back down.
“Ah, yes, Sebastian, wise choice, preventing violence,” Stede says. “Although I suppose you’ve learned a thing or two about being outmatched in a fight.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sebastian sniffs. “I’d never use my fists. It’s beneath my dignity.”
“No?” Stede asks. “Not even when that postal worker told you that you could not, in fact, access Chauncey’s mailbox, and you decided to resolve the matter by attempting to steal their master key? I do recall you going into that meeting with your lawyer with a black eye. Tell me, how are those federal charges going?”
The blood drains from Sebastian’s face as another man, virtually indistinguishable from the rest with his navy suit and unflattering haircut, shoots to his feet. “This is ridiculous,” he says. “We don’t need to sit here and be blackmailed by a man who is mysteriously covered in the same pink glitter as his pathetic boyfriend.”
“Oh, I agree, that’s absolutely ridiculous,” Stede says. “You prefer to be blackmailed by staid city officials who’ve noticed your houses are all built with inferior-grade materials that will never withstand the first storm of the season.”
A man with a comically large horseshoe mustache frowns so deeply it looks like he has two mustaches on his face. “I trust you didn’t use those for my house. Priscilla and I paid a fuckton of cash to have that house be perfect.”
There’s a tittering around the room, and Stede smiles at Mr. Mustache. “Jacob, I cannot begin to tell you how happy it made my father that you and Ariadne were able to join him at his villa in Venice before his passing. It meant so much to him that you were able to enjoy such a lovely time together.”
Another man rises to his feet. “Ariadne? My wife Ariadne?!”
Jacob holds up his hands. “Peter, listen.”
“And Kenneth!” Stede exclaims. “Congratulations to you on your successful business acquisition! Such astonishing negotiating skills to be able to get it at that price. A bargain.”
A man with a smug smile on his face who looks like he hosts the world’s most pretentious podcast nods, as the man across from him turns sour. “Yes, we are very pleased.”
“A bargain,” Stede repeats. “Or, some might say, a steal, since you offered the seller an additional ten million under the table if he agreed to come up with an excuse to pull out of his deal with Vincent over here.”
Vincent, presumably, shoots to his feet. “I fucking knew it! Fletcher, you slimy prick, I knew those tips you were giving me were bullshit! I told Annabelle a hundred times, I knew you were up to something!”
“Annabelle may have been encouraged to keep her lips sealed since Kenneth promised to buy her a new tennis bracelet if he won the deal,” Stede murmurs.
“Why would Annabelle— FLETCHER, I WILL FUCKING MURDER YOU!”
The room erupts in chaos. Ed has never seen so many stuffed suits completely lose their composure like this before, at least not in such a loud and violent way. His instinct is to grab Stede and make a run for it, but Stede, madman that he is, is fucking smiling, practically revelling in the utter mayhem he’s wrought like some kind of golden god. He stalks over to Ricky, who seems to be attempting to disappear into the walls, and holds out his hand. Ricky reluctantly hands him an envelope, then darts to hide behind an oversized plant in the corner. Stede smiles and grabs Ed’s hand, and they quietly exit the room, Mary following close behind.
As soon as they’re outside, Stede pulls a small key from his pocket and Ed gaps at him in abject disbelief and horniness as he locks the door behind him.
“There,” he says. “They’ll run out of hot air soon enough. Or create too much of it? Science was never really my strong suit.”
“Technically they never called a vote,” Mary warns, “You could still be dealing with them on Monday.”
“Oh, believe me,” Stede says, “I have far better plans for my Monday.”
He looks over at Ed, and there’s such a smolder in his eye that Ed’s almost tempted to re-enter the conference room just to cool down.
“C’mon, Ed,” Stede says, and squeezes his hand. “Let’s go home.”
Home, of course, means Stede’s house. Ed’s apartment is nice, with all the standard luxury amenities, but it’s never been anything more than a place to come back to at the end of the day. There’s enough there for him to survive — food, shelter, a spot to do his work if he doesn’t feel like going into his studio. Plus, now it’s full of fucking glitter.
And Stede’s house has always been where Ed comes alive. Stede opens the door and all Ed can think is, “Finally.” The fresh flowers on the long table in the foyer somehow look as vibrant as ever despite Stede being away for a week, and the colorful throw pillows seem to have spawned new throw pillows every thirty seconds, and that vaguely tropical floral scent all throughout the house is just enough to make an impact without feeling overwhelming.
There’s the couch where he and Stede would spend countless hours binging shows on the TV that Stede spent a small fortune on so it would look like a painting when it wasn’t in use. There’s the living room that’s painted a dark teal that Stede was nervous about, but Ed insisted would look killer (Stede now regularly proclaims it to be his favorite room in the house). There’s the china cabinet that’s not filled with china at all, but various trinkets and souvenirs from all the trips they’ve taken together.
Yes, this is home.
Truthfully, it feels almost as good being back here as it did to see Stede again for the first time at camp.
Maybe even better, really, because this time Ed doesn’t feel like he’s about to puke his guts out from nerves.
“Can I get you something?” Stede asks, and it feels so oddly formal. Ed’s used to helping himself to whatever he needs at Stede’s house. “Tea? Water? Something stronger?”
They’re losing the frenetic momentum of the last couple hours, and suddenly, Ed feels the need to pinch himself. Ground himself. “Nah, I’m good. Do you need to eat, though? Long drive for you first thing in the morning.”
“Not really hungry,” Stede says. “Must be the adrenaline.”
“Or maybe it’s the fact you just ate a dozen board members for breakfast,” Ed says with a soft snort.
Stede smiles. Some of the pink glitter on his face catches the light, making him look almost cartoonish in his glee. “I did, didn’t I?”
He giggles, and then Ed joins in, and then they’re draped over each other laughing so hard they have tears in their eyes, utterly breathless in the dizzying joy and relief of being back here, being back home, being back together and feeling all of their pieces click back into place.
“Oh, Ed,” Stede finally says, once they’ve regained some of their composure. “I’m so sorry about what I said yesterday. I didn’t mean it.”
“No, you did,” Ed says, taking Stede’s hands in his own. “And that’s okay.”
Stede blinks. “Ed, I—”
“It’s scary as fuck what we’re doing,” Ed says. “It is. There’s a very real possibility that something could happen and it would split us up.”
“I don’t want that,” Stede says quickly. “I can’t do that again, Ed. Not having you here the past few months… I didn’t know what to do with myself.”
“I don’t want it either,” Ed says. “But that’s a real emotion. It’s a real fear. And maybe it’s time that instead of pretending that it’s not, or running away from those fears, we just… acknowledge them. Maybe that’ll take away some of their power.”
Stede leads them over to the couch, where they sit down together. “I’ve never been good at romantic relationships, Ed. I always feel so uncomfortable in my own skin. It’s like I’m a marionette, pulling the strings on my own puppet, looking down on myself going through all the motions. But they’re all stiff and awkward and forced. It never quite feels real. And I don’t want to do that with you.”
Ed wraps an arm around Stede’s shoulder, because Stede needs grounding too. “Does this feel comfortable?”
The corners of Stede’s lips curl upward, just enough to make that adorable dimple in his cheek grow a bit more prominent. “Yes.”
“And does this feel real?” Ed pulls him closer and presses his lips to that sweet smile.
“Yes,” Stede whispers, and kisses him again. “Mighty real.”
“Then maybe we just lead with that,” Ed says. He reaches up and begins stroking Stede’s hair, a frankly dangerous move given that it’s so soft he may never be able to stop. “And if it ever starts to feel like you’re turning into Pinocchio, we take a breather and talk about it.”
Stede shakes his head. “When did you get so wise?”
Ed lets out a sharp bark of laughter. “Mate, I slipped out in the middle of the night after getting everything I’ve ever wanted because I managed to convince myself it was too good to be true, and that someone like you could never love someone like me. Not… like that, anyway. Not like I loved you. I wouldn’t exactly consider myself a shining beacon of emotional intelligence.”
Stede takes Ed’s hand in his own and rubs his thumb over the soft skin between Ed’s thumb and forefinger. “I guess sometimes it’s just easier to help other people sort through their issues than to sort out your own.”
“Reckon so.” Ed brings their joined hands up to his lips and kisses Stede’s. “Good thing we can help each other out, eh?”
It’s less that their faces move toward each other and more that they’re simply drawn together, just like they were in life. The kiss is sweet, and tender, with no urgency or desperation. It simply is, just like they simply are, and that feels like the most beautiful, profound realization in the world.
Perhaps it’s less about romance, although they have one, and a fucking incredible one at that. Perhaps it’s not about “defining the relationship,” or whatever the fuck it is kids are calling it these days. Perhaps it’s just about recognizing the place you have in one another’s heart, and embracing it wholeheartedly, and doing everything within your fucking power to honor that privilege. Perhaps it’s about realizing it’s a little bit easier and a lot more fun to walk down your path in life with someone else’s hand in yours, and learning to just see where that path leads you instead of forcing yourself to follow a map. And perhaps it’s about accepting that there’s no way to know for certain if the two of you will make it all the way to the end together, but trusting that you both want to… so why not have the best fucking time while you navigate all the inevitable twists and turns by each other’s sides?
Perhaps it’s just about Ed and Stede.
“I read your text messages,” Ed says, because suddenly it feels very important that Stede knows everything, that they’re venturing out on this new journey together with their hearts and vision completely clear. “All the ones you sent while I was… not there.”
“Oh, damn, I’m sorry,” Stede says, reddening. “I’m afraid I couldn’t quite help myself.”
“Don’t be,” Ed says. “They were…” It feels wrong to say they were lovely, because there was so much pain in so many of them, so much grief that even thinking of them now makes Ed want to squeeze Stede tight and reassure him he’s not going anywhere ever again. But at the same time, seeing thousands upon thousands of messages of Stede pouring his heart out, expressing his love and worry and regrets, all because of Ed…
Well. Ed has never felt more assured of someone’s love for him.
And Ed’s never wanted to honor something more.
“They were lovely,” he says anyway, and trusts Stede understands what he means.
Stede caresses Ed’s cheek. “It felt a bit like casting a message in a bottle out to sea, over and over again, hoping one would finally reach you and bring you back to me.”
“Seems like it worked out, didn’t it?” Ed says, and leans in for a kiss. “My brilliant, romantic man.”
Slowly, the kisses deepen. It feels different this time. It’s not the lust-filled, drunken romp of their first time, or the furtive handjobs outside a cabin in the cold. It’s not a passionate fuck in the dark, or even a tender moment under the blankets when they’re still feeling a bit raw and vulnerable. It’s a pair of best friends at home, opening themselves up to each other, allowing their pleasure to take them where it will.
And right now, it’s taking Ed to a rather delightful position in Stede’s lap with Stede’s hard dick rubbing against the cleft of his ass.
“Hold on,” Stede gasps as he pulls his lips away from Ed’s. “Can we go upstairs? After a week on that horrific camp bed, I could really use a more supportive mattress.”
Ed grins and hoists himself off of Stede. “Couldn’t have thought of a better idea myself,” he says, and holds his hand out to help Stede off the couch.
By the time they’ve made their way up the stairs, Stede has managed to lose all of his clothing, and Ed has somehow only managed to keep his shirt. It’s a bit undignified, the two of them tripping over themselves in the hallway, kissing and groping each other along the way, Ed feeling a bit like a perverted Winnie the Pooh who just got back from the club and is still covered in glitter. But they’re laughing, and they can’t keep their hands off of each other, and Ed has a feeling he’s about to have the best orgasm of his life, so really, what’s a little indignity between best friends?
They don’t stop kissing when they reach Stede’s bedroom. Ed simply keeps walking Stede backwards until the back of his knees hit the mattress, and then further, as he gently pushes him down onto the bed. As he straddles Stede’s waist, he finally pulls off his shirt and tosses it aside.
Stede grabs Ed’s waist and trails his hands up and down his sides. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers reverently. “Just really, truly beautiful.”
It’s an odd time to feel bashful, with the hard cock of the most attractive man Ed has ever known nestled between his cheeks, all while his own erection, which, yes, seems to be sparkling a bit from the fallen glitter, is bobbing hopefully against his belly. But the flush that Ed feels rising in his face is less about arousal and more about the sheer wonder of it all, that someone as incredible as Stede thinks he’s incredible, too.
“I’m—”
With a swiftness that shocks Ed, Stede flips them over so Ed is the one flat on his back. Then he begins making his way down Ed’s chest with his mouth, covering his skin with kisses and licks and nibbles.
“Love your chest hair,” Stede murmurs against his hawk tattoo. “All that salt and pepper. Shines almost as much as that pink glitter that’s all over you.”
“And you,” Ed laughs, running his hands over Stede’s splendidly sparkly body. “You make me sound like a disco ball.”
“The most beautiful disco ball,” Stede says, making pleased little humming noises as he makes his way down the trail of hair leading down from Ed’s navel. “Although I’m a little more interested in these balls right now.”
He takes Ed’s dick in his hand and begins slowly stroking it as he bends his head so he can take one of Ed’s balls in his mouth. Ed cries out and thrusts upward as Stede licks and sucks, ever so gently, over and over, before releasing it with a soft pop to lavish the same attention on the other one.
“Fuck, Stede,” Ed breathes. “That feels so good.”
“Mmmm,” Stede agrees. He moves his mouth to Ed’s dick and gives it one long lick from root to tip. “You taste so good.”
Ed groans and struggles to hoist himself up on his elbows so he can have a better view of Stede as he takes his cock his mouth. Just like with all things, Stede dives right in without any hesitation, swallowing him whole, working his way up and down his length, using one hand to stroke his dick whenever it leaves his mouth and the other to continue to play with his balls. Ed has one hand tangled in Stede’s hair and the other clutching the duvet beneath him and fuck, it feels good, it’s so fucking good. Stede sucks him like a scholar, like he’s come to the discovery that all the secrets of the universe can be found through Ed’s cock, and he’s determined to learn and study and memorize every last detail.
But all Ed can think about is Stede and how fucking hot his mouth is and Stede and it’s so wet, so wet, and it’s Stede and his tongue is working his cock with wide, flat strokes, and it’s Stede who is fucking humming around his dick and it’s Stede Stede Stede!
“Mmm?” Stede pulls his mouth off Ed’s dick.
“Fuck,” Ed gasps. He hadn’t even realized he was saying Stede’s name out loud, although it should really have come as a surprise. He’s never really been able to control himself around this man. “That’s… fuck.”
“It is,” Stede says, and begins pressing feather-light kisses up and down the length of Ed’s dick. “You feel so good in my mouth, Ed. I could suck your cock all day.”
Ed moans and thrusts upward into Stede’s touch.
“I think one day I will,” Stede says, as casually as if he were talking about the weather. “How’d you like that? You could walk around in sweatpants, and at my word you’d drop them to your knees, and I’d drop to my knees, and I’d suck you down.”
“Fuck,” Ed whispers. “I’d like that.”
“I bet you would,” Stede says. A lick around the head, a lick around the balls. “But I wouldn’t let you come. Not yet, anyway. I’d suck you down, get you all hard and aching, bring you right to the brink. And then I’d kiss you, just like this.” Stede presses his lips to the head of Ed’s dick, the sweetness of the kiss a stark contrast to the fact he emerges with pre-come shining upon his mouth. “And then I’d pull your sweatpants back up, and we’d go about our day. Until I can’t hold back anymore, and we have to do it again. And again. And again.”
Ed’s breathing is coming more heavily now and it takes all his willpower not to come. He’s not sure what makes him harder: the thought of Stede blowing him whenever he wants, being entirely at his will, or the promise of sweet domesticity where a day-long sexcapade would be part of their regular routine.
“But not today,” Stede says as he continues to stroke him. He shifts himself upward until he’s straddling Ed’s waist. “Today I want you to fuck me.”
Ed considers it a testament to his innate strength and willpower that he doesn’t come on the spot. He closes his eyes, just for a moment, to re-center himself. When he opens them again, and sees Stede astride him, his dick hard and leaking against his belly, his face flushed and his hair tousled, he closes them again once more for good luck.
When he opens them again, he’s ready.
He flips them so Stede’s the one on his back again and gives him a searing kiss. “Lube in the nightstand?” he asks, not even waiting for a response before stretching out his arm to open the drawer.
It’s everything he’s dreamed of, Ed thinks as he works his slick fingers inside of Stede. Having Stede lying beneath him, moaning as he strokes his cock with his eyes locked upon Ed’s face… It’s a sight Ed knows he’ll quickly grow addicted to. And when Stede’s moans turn to pleas, and Ed finally slides inside…
Fuck.
It’s better than a dream. Because dreams are ephemeral, and try as you might to hold onto them, all the wonders of that nighttime reverie slip through your fingers by morning. If you’re lucky, you may be able to cling to a single emotion, but even those have a half-life, and can never be fully replicated in the waking world.
But there’s no way Ed will ever forget this.
He’ll never forget how Stede gasps when Ed is all the way in, or how his gasps turn to moans when he begins to move. He’ll never forget how Stede’s body welcomes him, how it clenches around him so exquisitely. He’ll never forget the heat of it, the need.
He'll never forget how when he thrusts into Stede he feels like a god, someone great and powerful who can do fucking anything.
He'll never forget how when Stede cries out his name how he's reminded that he's just a man, just one small part of this great big universe, and how all he wants is to keep their love safe and cherished for however long they have.
It’s the realest fucking thing in the world, and Ed’s never letting go.
Ed intends to keep them at a slow, easy rhythm, to make it last, but it’s all too much. He shifts to his knees — he knows he might regret it tomorrow, but fuck, he needs it now— and pulls Stede’s legs up around his waist.
“Oh, fuck,” Stede shouts, as Ed’s pace increases. “Fuck, Ed, you’re so fucking deep. You’re so…”
Stede throws his head back and lets out a low moan that’s so raw, so primal, that it damn near takes Ed’s breath away. He continues slamming into Stede, driving in hard and deep, taking him whole, taking his fill. The sound of his balls slapping against Stede’s ass is obscene, but matches beautifully with the slickness of Stede’s desperate strokes of his cock. They’re both covered in sweat and glitter and their lips are bruised, and Ed has never felt more alive.
“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” Stede chants. “C’mon, Ed. I need— Please—”
Ed leans forward and kisses Stede. “Please what?” he asks, never slowing his thrusts. “Tell me.”
Stede moans and strokes his dick faster. “More,” he begs. “Please, Ed. More. Just fuck me harder.”
“Harder?” Ed grips Stede’s well-toned legs hard for better leverage, and slams into him. “Like that?”
Stede lets out a strangled cry. “Yes!”
Ed repeats the motion, again, and again, and again. Each time Stede’s shouts grow louder, more broken, as his pleas become increasingly desperate.
“Please, please, please, please,” Stede babbles. “Fuck, Ed, I’m so close.”
“You want to come?” asks Ed. “You want to come on my cock?”
“Yes, please, Ed,” Stede begs. “Please. I need it.”
“Fuck, yeah.” Ed quickly wipes his brow and renews his pace. “Want to see you do it. Want to see you come while you’re looking into my eyes. Want you to fucking scream my name.”
Stede makes a noise that sounds somewhere between a sob and moan. “So close. So close. I’m… oh, fuck, Edward!”
Stede comes with a shout, shooting his release all over his fist and Ed’s chest. Ed can’t be expected to last after that, and slams into Stede one, two, three more times before he follows Stede in climax, his name on his lips. His entire body shuddering, he slowly lowers Stede’s legs and then collapses on his chest, boneless.
“Wow,” Stede says with what Ed suspects might be a chuckle if he had the breath. “That was… incredible.”
Ed presses his lips to Stede’s. “You’re incredible.”
“Mmm,” Stede smiles, and strokes Ed’s sweat-slicked hair. “I love you, darling. So much.”
Ed hadn’t expected the word darling coming from Stede’s lips to make him feel as though he were the crown prince of the entire fucking galaxy, but here he is. He’s tempted to find some local journalist and offer him an exclusive story: STEDE BONNET CALLS EDWARD TEACH “DARLING,” WORLD REJOICES AS IT SASHAYS INTO ITS NEXT GOLDEN ERA.
Except nobody really reads newspapers anymore, he’s pretty sure. Should get a fucking billboard instead. Or maybe one of those planes with the banner flying behind it? Yeah, that would be best. Peak visibility.
Stede kisses him again, and Ed is brought back to earth.
“I love you, too,” he says, and settles himself into the embrace.
They lie there together for a long moment, Ed with his head tucked into the curve of Stede’s neck. He feels completely spent, every last bit of energy having been apparently released through his dick, but he can’t stop smiling. And, he suspects, if his breathing could even out a bit more, he’d also be giggling.
Fuck, he’s missed being happy. Ed doesn’t think he’s ever felt so free.
“Ooof, hold on,” Stede says, “I have something for you.”
“Mrawghh,” Ed grumbles. “Cozy.”
“I know, I know,” Stede says with a light laugh. “Just… trust me, darling.”
“Mmmph,” Ed agrees reluctantly (it’s the darling that does it), and pushes some of his weight off Stede’s chest.
Stede kisses his forehead and then twists to reach for his nightstand. He tugs open the drawer and rustles around a bit and then, making a satisfied noise, pushes it closed.
“Here you are,” Stede says, holding Ed’s pikorua in front of him. “I think it’s about time you have this around your neck again.”
Tears prick Ed’s eyes as he takes in the pendant. All those vibrant blues and purples and greens, the inexpert cuts in the pāua that Stede carved with such love and care. He can’t believe he ever willingly took it off.
He can’t believe his love is returning it to him.
With near reverence, Stede drapes the necklace carefully over Ed’s head, then takes the pikorua in his hand. “It’s just like you said,” Stede murmurs, tracing the curves with his finger. “Our paths are forever intertwined. We always come back to each other.”
Ed pulls himself closer to Stede. Their matching pendants clack a bit against each other, and it’s the most mesmerizing percussion Ed’s ever heard.
“Yeah,” he says. “We always do.”
Ed awakes with a start. It’s still pitch black out, but he’s wide awake. He groans as he turns to look at the clock on the nightstand: just a little past three.
After a long day of sex, food, sex, talking, sex, talking about sex, a bit more food, and then a bit more sex, he really thought they’d both sleep like the dead tonight. But it seems even the best orgasms of his life aren’t enough to fully combat his insomnia.
Ed rubs his bleary eyes, smiling as his friendship bracelet presses against his cheek. He pulls his hand away so he can look at it. He can just make out the bold colors of the threads; even in the darkness, he can tell they’re there. His pikorua hangs warm against his chest. Between those, and all the bruises peppered all over his body, he’s practically blanketed in reminders of Stede’s love.
He rolls back to his side and faces Stede. His lips are parted slightly, and he’s breathing heavily. Not quite a snore, but definitely not silent.
Carefully, so as not to wake him, Ed threads his arm under Stede’s so he can cuddle in close. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get over the thrill of feeling Stede’s bare chest against his own, of being able to tuck his head into the curve of his neck, of being able to comb his soft hair with his fingers. Unable to resist any longer, Ed presses his lips to Stede’s cheek.
“Mmm,” Stede murmurs happily. “Love you.”
Not so deeply asleep, then, Ed thinks, as butterflies take flight in his chest. To have exposed himself so deeply to this man, and to now be held in his arms as he slept, safe and secure. To know that Stede has accepted every single part of him and loves him. Loves him.
What a feeling.
And do you really think that you deserve this?
Ed pulls Stede closer to him, laces his leg through Stede’s so from above they must look like two ferns grown together, forever intertwined.
“I love you, too,” he whispers.
And as he drifts off to sleep, soothed by the tender lullaby of Stede’s breathing overtop the steady timpani of his heartbeat, there’s only one word on Ed’s mind:
Yes.
