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Edward flopped on the bed, belly-down like a dead fish.
“What on earth are you doing, my dear?”
Ed craned his head back to look at Stede in that confused way he did when Stede didn’t know the first thing about pirates, or when confronted with a new kind of spoon. “Don’t you know anything, Stede? I’m preparing myself for buggery.”
“Oh,” Stede said, “You are?”
“I am,” Ed said, planting his face back into the pillows. “Ready when you are.”
“Edward,” Stede said cautiously, placing a hand on the small of Edward’s back. “Buggery is a two-man act, my sweet. I shan’t partake unless you desire it.”
There was a silence, then a muffled “What has desire got to do with it?”
Stede paused, contemplating how child-like this man could be in spite of being one of- if not the most feared man on the planet. He had a brief and rather uncharacteristic flash of anger at those who would use that against the man, clearly having taken their pleasure without so much of a care about Ed’s.
“Desire has everything to do with it, Edward.” Stede kept his hand in place, stroking soft circles into the man’s shirt.
There was another silence before Ed brought himself up on one elbow and looked back at Stede. Or, more precisely, at his crotch. “You’re hard.”
“I am, my dear.”
“So, go on then.”
“There are other ways to… er, copulate, Edward.”
“I knew that,” Edward said quickly, in the manner of a man who did not, in fact, know that. Edward’s frown only grew, brows knitting together. “But if I didn’t, what would, you know, the other ways, like, be.”
“That all depends on what feels good for you, dear. Some people like their things to go into holes, other people like to touch, or to be touched, some people enjoy things like bindings or instruments, others like simply to watch, and there are some who do not partake at all.”
Edward rolled over as he listened, scooting himself up the bed so he could think in a more serious pose. “So if I said I wanted to watch you jerk yourself off, you would do it.”
“If that would excite you, my sweet, I would more than gladly partake. Because remember, dear, copulation requires every party member to…?”
Edward’s eyes flicked about the room, as if scanning for an answer. “Desire it?” he said.
“Consent! Yes! Exactly.” Stede leant forward, giving Edward a chaste kiss as a reward. Some of the tension the man was carrying leached from his shoulders at the correct guess, pleased, as he always was, to be in the right. “Now, how would you like me?”
Edward hummed, once again looking around the room like a child with a craft project. He leapt from the bed, grabbing some of the cushions from the settee, returning to create a dias on the bed. Stede allowed himself to be brought into position, lounging on his new chaise longue , then watched with some humour as Ed hauled an armchair across the room and sank himself into it.
Once positioned, Ed waved a had at Stede. “Go,” he ordered.
Stede had softened slightly while bemusedly watching Ed go about rearranging the room, but the command certainly did things to get the blood pumping again. He raised the hem of his nightdress, taking himself in hand.
Edward sat himself forward, elbows on knees, chin held in both palms, like he was watching a particularly interesting insect being pinned to a board. That focus, those dark eyes… Stede felt himself go hot, flushing at the single-minded attention.
Stede liked to be handled gently, with a light grasp and slow, barely-there movements. He thought this might also make for an excellent teaching opportunity for Ed — he was making assumptions, but he doubted the man had ever been made love to , only used for fun or some relief in the dark under a ship’s stairwell.
He had been hard for quite some time this evening, and so was able to slick himself with ease, lingering for just a moment at the head, a tease for both himself and to his silent partner.
Stede sighed softly at the sensation of his hand; rougher now than it ever had been in his life, what with all the ropes he had pulled and swords he had fought with. It wasn’t quite the calloused hand of a rope-swinger and man-stabber like Edward, but it was quite the new sensation after a life touched only by himself and his equally soft-handed wife.
“Is this to your liking?” Stede asked, cock thick and heavy in his grasp.
“Yes,” Ed said, breathy, sounding fascinated by the process.
Stede noted Ed’s own slowly-growing erection in his soft sleep-trousers; pyjamas gifted to Stede some years back from a good friend in south Asia. They were quite baggy on Edward, but he preferred them to the flowing openness of Stede’s nighties.
“You may touch yourself, if it would please you, dearest.”
Stede watched Edward glance down at his own lap, as if noting his arousal for the first time. He brought his palm to it, squirming in his seat at the sensation. He blinked, then looked up again, fixating back on Stede’s hand. Continuing to watch, and now without looking away, Edward sank into his seat, grinding the heel of his palm against his cock, matching Stede’s pace but without the delicacy.
Stede’s breath quickened at the sight, feeling the tension pool in his gut. Half-lidded and feeling himself close, Stede firmed his grasp, body involuntarily bucking with desire.
“May I make a request of you, my dear?” Stede smiled at Edward’s gruff noise of hyper-focused assent. “If it would please you, to kiss me, here.”
Within a moment Edward had used the momentum of his position to lever himself forward, onto his knees beside the low bed, lips attaching to the spot Stede had pointed to on his neck. The sensation of Edward’s salt-rough beard on Stede’s delicate, butter-soft neck was a delight, and the ferocity with which the man sucked a bruise was all Stede needed to send him over the edge, spilling into his hand with a satisfied sound of pleasure.
Still Edward did not relent, jerking furiously as Stede gasped for breath into the shell of Ed’s ear. Stede brought his non-soiled hand up to clasp at the back of Edward’s head, clipped fingernails scratching lightly into the skin.
Edward groaned, then sighed a sigh of relief, finally letting go of Stede’s neck, lapping at it now as he noticed the bright reddish purple beginnings of a bruise.
“Was that good for you, my dear?”
Edward nodded, silently, into Stede’s neck. They spent a companionable silence like that for a moment, both attempting to regain their breath. Edward, with stamina beyond Stede, regained himself first, leaning back and once again taking Stede in. “You came,” he said, eyes taking in the mess.
“I did, dear. Did you?”
Edward shook his head, though this didn’t seem to be out of disappointment. Edward met Stede’s eyes again, in silent query, but before Stede could ask the man what he was thinking, Ed brought Stede’s hand to his lips, licking at Stede’s spilled seed.
Had Stede been half his age, that alone would have had him ready for a second round, but as it was his cock only gave an interested twitch, Stede watching in a dazed, completely intoxicated haze as Edward evaluated the taste, made a face of consideration, and continued to lick his hand clean. “You needn’t, my sweet, I can get us a dishcloth-”
Stede gasped as Edward turned his attention from Stede’s fingers to his soft cock, tasting there, and then his thighs, and belly, lapping at any soiled place like some great, black cat with a rather devious purpose. Stede trembled at the overstimulation, Edward’s ministrations drawing sounds from himself he had never heard himself make. Want, ache, pleasure, all of Stede belonged to Ed.
And then, in a moment, Ed’s attention flicked away from this duty he had set himself, clambering up into the bed. “Yes. Next time, I’ll take your cock in my mouth,” Ed said. A half-second later he stilled, and said, “If you desire that. And give, your, uh. Con… content.”
“Consent,” Stede correctly softly, barely keeping himself together at the loss of contact, feeling aroused, longing for that touch again, but sensing that Ed had finished with his experiments for the day. Stede needed a moment more to compose himself before he parsed Edward’s words, and coloured again at the suggestion. “I assure you I would definitely desire that,” he said.
“Good.” Edward said, before bringing his sleeve up to his mouth and wiping the slick mess collected there.
“Don’t be filthy, darling, we have washcloths for that kind of thing.”
Edward scrunched his nose up at that, simply removing the shirt and throwing it across the room. Stede sent a baleful look at the scrunched-up material, but with his bones as jellified as they felt, he couldn’t quite stomach getting up to place the shirt on a hanger.
Ed carefully removed the pillows from behind Stede’s propped-up body, throwing them across the room, then flopped down, attaching himself, limpet-like around Stede’s waist, rubbing his face into the soft material of Stede’s nightdress.
It was far too warm for such contact, and Edward’s beard were ticklish even through the clothing, but Stede only gave a contented sound and rubbed a calming pattern into Ed’s shoulder. It had been some while since he had shared a bed, and there were always going to be things one needed to get used to. These minor inconveniences were things he was sure he was going to grow to love.
Stede had almost drifted into sleep when he heard Ed murmur a guarded “Stede?”
“Yes, my dear?”
“Thank you.”
“Whatever for?”
“For…” Edward clutched tighter, arms almost-hurting in their strength. “I don’t know. For being you.”
“There wouldn’t be much point pretending to be anyone but myself,” Stede said, bemused.
Edward’s grip tightened for just a second more, and then the tension went out of him with a laugh. “I suppose you’re right.”
"I often am." Stede allowed himself to pat at Ed's hair, and then quickly found himself drifting into a content slumber.