Work Text:
“How do I look?”
Stede looks up from his book and his heart skips in his chest. There’s Ed, leaning against the wood trim in Stede’s quarters, wearing one of Stede’s silk robes and smiling under his beard.
It’s a pale pink one, with yellow leaf-shaped accents. He’s got his hip cocked, showing off how well the silk flows over his hips and legs. Stede is hypnotized by the way the robe opens across his broad chest, displaying the tuft of graying hairs that always inspires in Stede the rather alarming urge to drop everything and rub his face against it.
Frankly, what Ed is doing here is neither fair nor kind.
Stede swallows and sets the book aside, bringing his gaze back up to Ed’s warm brown eyes. He’ll never get used to this. They’ve been sharing a bed for some time, now, doing a world of things Stede had never before thought possible. Just when he thinks he’s got a grip on himself, Ed does something that knocks him flat out again and reminds him, nope, you don’t know shit, Stede ol’ boy. What you know about the multitudinous and ever-shifting ways Ed can flip your world couldn’t fill a thimble.
“You look—” Handsome. Luxurious. Every bit a dream. “Lovely,” he says at last.
Ed just grins, like he knows it. He approaches Stede where he’s sitting on the couch. Entranced, Stede watches the silk move over Ed’s body, shifting over his hips with each step. Silk was made to be worn by Ed. It was invented thousands of years ago just for the pleasure of someday being draped over one Edward Teach’s skin.
When Ed stops in front of Stede, he says, “eyes are up here, love.”
Stede meets his gaze with a flush. “Terribly sorry,” he says. “But, in my defense—”
“In your defense?”
“In my defense, it’s not my fault you always look so utterly fine.” Stede wrinkles his forehead, hoping he looks sufficiently cross. “I mean, really, how’s a man supposed to get any reading done in these conditions?” He gestures in the direction of Ed’s general person and gives him a tiny smile at this, just so Ed knows he’s only teasing.
“Hm,” Ed says. He brings one knee up to the couch, outside Stede’s hip. Stede’s breath catches in his chest at how close it brings Ed’s hips to his face. The bottom hem of the robe brushes over Stede’s knees. Ed’s eyes are slits, staring down at him. “Tell me, how frightening do I look right now?”
Stede remembers the way he first heard Blackbeard described: a man so brutal and fearsome that the smoke of Hell itself wafted off his skin. Stede doesn’t know about all that. The Ed he has in front of him, ripening like a fruit in his hands, is so sweet, so deserving of tenderness. Stede loves the smell of him, salt and leather and the lavender soap he nicks from Stede’s private stores. He brings a hand to Ed’s thigh, sliding it under the silk robe to get at the bare skin, lightly haired and knobbly in places where various knife wounds healed a bit sideways. He adores Ed’s legs, loves the planes of muscle that run up and down his thighs.
He smiles up at him. “Not even a little, I’m terribly sorry to report.”
“Not afraid of the dread pirate Blackbeard?” Ed pushes his fingers into Stede’s hair. “Is that wise?” Stede leans into the touch, trembling a little, the sodding, sentimental fool that he is. It just feels so good, being touched by Ed, it’s like it just—overflows out of him, sometimes, and he can’t help the shaking.
Touch and sex were always a bit—murky, before. They were things you did because you had to, because those were the rules. It had never before been a pleasure. He hadn’t even known he was capable of feeling this way, like a million explosions were going off inside him at once. Deep, long-neglected corners inside him that he’d never even known existed were finally getting some light.
“Nah. Who’d be afraid of you?” Stede says once he regains control of himself. He rubs circles into Ed’s thigh with his thumb and leans forward to press his mouth into the softness of his belly, over the silk, because it’s right there, waiting to be kissed, sweet and good and growing softer all the time while onboard the Revenge. Stede likes to see Ed pampered and spoiled. He wears it well. “Sweet and gentle and—and cute as you are?”
Ed snorts. “Cute?”
“Mm. Frightfully so,” Stede murmurs against Ed’s stomach. He brings both his hands up to hold onto Ed’s hips. He loves the way Ed’s body fills his palms.
“Frightfully! There, see?” Ed’s eyes are shining things, smiling down at Stede. He’s running his fingers through Stede’s hair, making him shiver deliciously.
“Yes, well, I daresay you better add some notes to your piracy handbook,” Stede says. He starts tugging the robe open, dropping kisses on every inch of newly-exposed skin. “‘The enterprising pirate must be well-rounded and agile in his tactics of intimidation. For the formidable strategy known as frightful levels of cuteness, please turn to Index B for Blackbeard, Dread Pirate—oh!”
Ed has brought his other knee up to the couch, straddling Stede’s lap, and he uses both hands to push Stede back into the cushion. The robe is all out of sorts, now, showing everything, legs and skin and muscle for miles, his pretty cock standing hard and proud from the mess of silk. He’s so close, close enough to touch—everything. Stede stares up at him, heart hammering away in his chest. Edward’s hands on him is his favorite feeling in the world. He loves how rough they are, callused with years of handling ropes and swords; he loves how gently they cradle his jaw when they kiss.
Ed leans down and bites lightly on Stede’s earlobe, making him shiver.
“Do me a favor, Stede. Bugger the handbook,” Ed murmurs.
“Oh—is there really a handbook?” Stede asks, bringing both hands to Ed’s hips, thumbing across the sharp bones. There’s a situation in his trousers that is growing critical, but he is a scholar devoted to all things piracy, and this is a fascinating development. “Would you—that is, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble, perhaps, if I could just take a little peek—”
“Fuck off,” Ed huffs, laughing a little, but his cheeks are flushed, even under the beard. Stede is so full of affection he could just burst. “Stede. You horrible man, if you don’t—do something about this, I’m going to—”
And Stede understands. He takes a firm grip of Ed’s hips and it’s like Ed’s been dying for it, the way he just melts with a light moan, like he’s been searching all his life for a place to land and now he’s found it, here, in Stede’s arms. Stede’s not going to take that for granted for a single second. He tilts his head up and doesn’t have to wait for Ed to dip down and kiss him.
Stede had wondered if it would be odd, kissing a man, and one with so robust of a beard, at that—but it isn’t. It’s the easiest thing in the entire world, the way their lips move together. Ed’s mouth is hot and pliant against Stede’s, his tongue strong and a little sweet—he must have been dipping into the marmalade again. Stede smiles into the kiss, thinking of all the sweet things he wants to give Ed: candies and chocolates and thick slices of fresh mango; fine jewels and embroidered towels. He curls his hand around Ed’s neck, resting his thumb in the hollow behind his ear and kissing him deeper. Ed’s hands tighten in Stede’s shirt, and then he grinds down.
“Oh fuck,” Stede gasps, dropping his head back, and Ed huffs a laugh that turns into a moan. The silk robe is completely open and almost all the way off his shoulders, now, and he’s grinding his hips into Stede’s, his cock trapped between their bellies. Stede is still completely clothed, but he knows Ed can feel how hard he is from the way he grinds against the hard line of him. Stede’s hands are all over him. He loves every inch of Ed, every scar. “You’re so beautiful,” Stede blurts, unable to help himself. Ed is a force of nature, the power of all seven seas seeming to thrum dangerously under his skin; he’s the most beautiful, sweetest man, the person Stede likes the very best.
Ed shakes his head. “That’s you.” And then: “Get rid of this thing,” pulling at Stede’s cravat like it’s offending him personally. Stede’s rather proud of how well he’s managed without a valet in his time at sea, but he decides now is not the time to mention that. He unties the cravat in a few quick tugs and tosses it aside, and Ed makes a sort of distressed noise and starts working at the buttons of his shirt. When he gets to the last one, he pushes the shirt off of Stede’s shoulders and cups his soft pecs in two hands.
“Fucking—gorgeous, Stede,” Ed breathes, and a hot white light shoots up Stede’s spine. When Ed says Stede’s name, it’s like no one has ever said it before. Ed squeezes Stede’s pecs, saying, “these are just—completely—mental, man.” He brushes his thumbs over Stede’s nipples, making him whimper. Stede’s holding onto Ed’s thighs for dear life. He has never, ever been touched like this, had barely even dreamed of it before meeting Ed. To be perfectly honest, he’s never really thought it possible that someone could actually want to touch him. He’s always been too weak, too cowardly, too utterly strange for anyone to think about him in that way. But under Ed’s hands, he feels—devoured, delicious. Ed kisses Stede’s mouth, again and again, and Stede winds his hand into Ed’s hair, keeping him close.
“Touch me,” Ed whispers into his mouth. Stede reaches down and groans, loving the way Ed’s cock fills his hand. Ed moans, his hips stuttering forward. Stede gives him a few lazy pumps, thumbing at the head like he’s learned Ed likes, and Ed makes the sweetest little ah noise in the back of his throat. He slides his hand down and grasps Stede through his breeches, making him gasp.
“Darling,” Ed says, his chest heaving and his eyes blown wide. “Take me to bed. I need it, need you—”
“Yes,” Stede says, getting up from the couch. Yes, he thinks, letting Ed lead him by the hand over to the bed. His whole body is lit up with the word when Ed spreads out beneath him, silk robe open, eyes heavy-lidded and trusting, cock heavy and resting on his hip.
Stede kneels on the bed next to Ed, pressing a palm to Ed’s stomach. “I can’t believe you let me—” Stede can’t finish the sentence. Touch you? Be with you? He’s Stede, little Baby Bonnet. He’s made so many mistakes. Sometimes it’s like he just can’t stop fucking everything up; he can never make the right choice, no matter how he tries. Time and time again, he’s proven that no matter what he does, he is forever doomed to a life of comfortable mediocrity, of trying and failing to do anything more.
But in Ed’s arms, all the disjointed, confusing pieces of himself somehow come together in something resembling a whole. With Ed, Stede feels completely right, like all the hollow, hungry places within him have just been waiting to be filled by exactly this. With Ed, all of his flaws—his sentimentality, his frivolous penchant for luxury, the way he can’t seem to stop itching for something a bit more exciting—become strengths. All of the missteps he’s made have brought him here, gazing down at this miracle of a person who for some reason loves him. With Ed, he can be flawed and broken and full of more light than he ever knew was in the world.
“I can’t believe you’re real,” Stede says at last.
Ed just smiles, his eyes shining, and pulls Stede in by the back of his neck.
Between the two of them, they get Stede’s breeches off in quick order, and Ed is arching for it by the time Stede presses two oil-slicked fingers into him. Stede stretches alongside Ed and works him open slowly, kissing at his chest the whole time. He loves this spot over Ed’s heart, loves feeling it beat against his lips.
“Come on,” Ed whines after a while. He’s working his hips down on Stede’s fingers, wanting it deeper. Stede is almost sorry to pull his fingers out—he’s a hedonist at heart, and feeling Ed like this has quickly become his favorite indulgence—but his regret is quickly forgotten when he slicks up his cock, lines himself up, and presses forward to fill Ed with his length.
“Oh Christ,” Ed says as Stede works his cock inside. Their eyes are locked on each other, gasping breaths mixing in the air between them. It’s so warm and sweet inside Ed. When he’s here, it’s like he’s found some secret Paradise, made and shaped just for him, and of course he had to leave his previous life and sail the seas unknown to find it.
Stede is distantly aware of the vastness of the blue sea gently rocking the ship while Ed’s body is hugged so tightly around him, keeping him so safe and close. When he’s all the way inside, Stede leans down for a kiss, and they lick into each other’s mouths, pulling apart now and again to stare at each other in awe. The way Ed grips and pulses around Stede, the way he spreads his legs on Stede’s silk robe, the way he locks his eyes with him and cups his jaw—it has to be Heaven, it just has to be. He doesn’t know how he lived this long without knowing this feeling.
Which, he realizes—he hadn’t been living, not really. It wasn’t his fault; he just hadn’t known how. With Ed, it’s like he’s awake for the very first time.
Eventually, Ed nudges at Stede’s hip with the heel of his foot, and Stede has to move, anyway, so he draws his hips back and slowly pushes back in, building a steady rock. The slick, wet heat of Ed is enough to obliterate all memory of language, but Stede knows what Ed likes.
“You feel so good,” Stede says. Right on cue, Ed’s pink mouth drops open and his eyelashes start to flutter. Stede has learned that Ed likes a touch of praise, likes to know how fine and appreciated he is. Stede is all too happy to remind him. “Feel so perfect. You’re fucking perfect, Ed.”
“Fuck,” Ed says. “Stede.” His chest and stomach are growing slick with sweat. He’s arching up and moving his hips, meeting every thrust, urging Stede harder and faster.
“You’re so good to me,” Stede says. “So beautiful.”
Ed makes a little shocked noise high in his throat, and then pulls Stede down by the back of the neck and captures his lips in a searing kiss. It’s a little messy, more teeth and tongue than anything else, but he’s long realized that with Ed, he quite likes messy. Ed pulls back and presses his forehead against Stede’s.
“You’ll never go without,” Stede says, a little desperately. He pulls his hips back and pushes back in, as close as he can get. “Want to give you everything, Ed, just, everything—”
“Give it to me, then,” Ed hisses, tipping his hips back to get Stede deeper, and Stede groans, heat coiling up his spine. He holds Ed’s hips down and snaps his hips in hard, really putting his back into it. Ed’s holding onto his shoulders, grunting low in his chest. They’re both so hot; Stede feels his own chest heaving. Ed’s making these hot breathy noises that are going to kill Stede, they’re going to put him right in the ground. The muscles of Ed’s stomach are clenching and shivering, and Stede shifts a little, and on the next thrust, Ed’s mouth falls open around a moan, and his hands claw at Stede’s shoulders.
“Come on,” Stede gasps, feeling his own orgasm rushing to meet him. “Come on, show me,” and Ed reaches down to fist his cock, and Stede manages to hold off long enough to watch Ed spill all over his stomach, the most exquisite goddamn sight in the world, smearing onto Stede’s belly as he fucks him through it. A second later, Stede’s hips stutter in their rhythm and with a groan, he’s coming, too, flooding Ed deep.
“Ah,” Ed says quietly as Stede drops next to him, kissing Ed’s temple. Ed lifts an arm and pulls Stede into his side, pressing his lips to the top of Stede’s head. Stede loves him so much.
"I love you so much," he tells him, rubbing his hand along the slope of Ed's chest. He loves that he gets to tell Ed this, every day, as often as he likes. Ed makes a warm, low sound from deep in his chest, squeezing Stede just a bit tighter.
After a moment, Stede gets up for a cloth and some water. He likes this part, too: cleaning Ed up afterward, making him comfortable. Ed lets Stede turn him this way and that, a small smile on his face. He gets like this if Stede’s done his job well: loose-limbed and pleased and melty, and a little bit dreamy in the eyes.
When that’s done, Stede crawls back into bed, pressing his body alongside Ed’s, rubbing a hand across his belly. Ed turns to kiss him.
“So good to me,” Ed whispers against his lips. It sends a shudder through Stede, though he can’t get hard again for a while. He hides a smile in Ed’s neck and inhales deeply. Stede doesn’t know what it is about sex that makes Ed smell even more amazing than usual, but it always comforts him and brings him back down to earth soft.
“We’re not getting anything done today, are we?” Stede says, completely at ease with the idea. Nothing short of cannon fire could pull him from this bed.
“Nah,” Ed tells him. “Crew will have to wait another day for their oranges.”
“We aren’t terribly good captains.”
“How could you say that?” Ed retorts, leaning up on an elbow. “We’re excellent captains!”
“Well.” Stede gestures to the general mess of them. “I don’t think this is what the crew had envisioned of their fearsome captains when they joined the Revenge.”
Ed scoffs. “I’ll have you know that good, hard buggery is recommended in the pirate captain’s handbook.”
“Now you’re just fucking with me.”
Ed grins. It’s still the afternoon; they have all the time in the world. Stede buries his nose behind Ed’s ear, inhaling salt and sweat and lavender, and presses a kiss to his jaw before drifting to sleep.