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Stede Bonnet was strolling through the corridors of his ship, perhaps on his way to get a little snack from the kitchen, when he was grabbed by his shirt and pulled unceremoniously into a supply closet.
“Don’t scream,” warned a gruff, familiar voice as the door closed behind them.
Stede swatted away the hand at his shirt collar. “Izzy! What in god’s name are you doing? My killer instincts could have kicked in, and I could have stabbed you!” Stede chided. “And why are we in the closet?”
Stede looked around, taking stock of the situation. It was one of the ship’s smaller closets; there was barely enough room for the both of them to stand without being on top of one another. Izzy had lit a lamp. The air was hot and stagnant. Next to the lamp, Stede noticed a bowl of water, a washcloth, a flask, bandages, and a jar of ointment, all lined up on a shelf.
Izzy drew in a breath. “I need your help. You’re the only one I can... trust with this,” he said, his face twitching with disdain for what he was saying.
Stede raised an eyebrow. “Me? What about Ed?”
Izzy shook his head, shame threatening to swallow him whole. “No, not him,” he said through gritted teeth. “If he knew it got infected, he might not do it to me anymore.”
“What’s got infected? Do what to you?” Stede’s questions died in his throat as Izzy slipped off his black cotton shirt and turned around. “Oh my.”
Izzy’s back was covered in scars. Many old. Some new. Some looked worse than others. But most notable was a spattering of newly healed slash marks across his upper back. They couldn’t have been more than a couple of days old, and one of them was red, angry, and inflamed.
“I need you to clean it out for me. I tried, but I can’t reach,” said Izzy, feeling infinitely small and vulnerable pressed up against the wall, baring himself and his most private desires to Stede fucking Bonnet.
“Oh. Right. Of course. I can do that,” said Stede, making no move to do that.
“You gonna make me wait all fucking day?” Izzy growled, desperate to mask his humiliation.
Flustered, Stede reached for the washcloth, dipped it into the water, and ran it along Izzy’s wound. The other man shivered at the sensation.
“You’re gonna have to go harder than that,” said Izzy. “You’ve gotta break the scabs.”
Stede winced as he rubbed harder. He felt Izzy tense under his touch. He pulled the cloth away when it began to turn red. “Okay, it’s, uh, open now,” he reported.
“Good. Sterilize it,” said Izzy, tilting his head towards the flask.
Stede nodded and poured the alcohol out onto a clean corner of the cloth. Izzy hissed as it touched his exposed flesh, the pain shooting through him like electricity.
“Oh dear, I’m terribly sorry,” said Stede. “This must feel awful.”
But Izzy didn’t reply. As Stede poured more alcohol over the wound, he heard Izzy bite back a moan. But it didn’t quite sound like a moan of pain. It sounded more like a—
Stede pulled the cloth away. “Izzy, are you... enjoying this?”
Izzy grimaced. He’d been too obvious. And of course Stede fucking Bonnet couldn’t keep his mouth shut long enough to just pretend he hadn’t noticed. But fuck, if that didn’t just wind up Izzy even more. “Yeah. What’s it to ya’?” he breathed.
Stede swallowed hard. He hadn’t thought being trapped in a closet with an aroused and bloodied Izzy would get him so out of sorts. God, was it hot in here? “That’s, uh, that’s alright. I’m just glad I’m not hurting you.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” Izzy mumbled.
Hands trembling, Stede reached for the ointment and slathered it on generously before sticking on the bandage. Izzy wasn’t squirming around anymore, so this part must not have hurt as much.
“There we go, all patched up,” said Stede quickly.
Izzy let out a sigh and turned back around. He felt empty at the loss of contact. All build up, no release. But at least he’d (hopefully) never have to go through this again.
Stede stared down at the man in front of him, taking in his tattoos, his muscles, his scars. He thought about Ed leaving those marks on Izzy’s skin. He thought about Izzy’s moans. His face burned as another thought popped into his head. And he knew he should take this thought to the grave with him, but Izzy was reaching to put his shirt back on, and if he didn’t say something now, he’d never get the chance again.
“You know, I could do it to you too... if you wanted.”
Izzy’s breath caught in his throat. He stopped reaching for his shirt. He closed his eyes and jammed his tongue hard against his teeth. “Right now?” he found himself asking.
Stede’s heart was pounding. “If you’d like.”
“Do you have your own knife? It’s not fun if you have to borrow mine.”
“Of course. We’re at sea,” Stede replied indignantly. “Everybody’s got a knife.”
“Alright, let’s see it then.”
Stede reached into the pocket of his trousers and pulled out a small pocketknife. It had an ivory handle, painted with magenta and orange flowers. The blade was sharp and shiny, like the man had never had to use it in his life. Izzy’s mouth went dry. He hated Stede fucking Bonnet. The thought of submitting to him made Izzy’s stomach churn with shame. And that shame went straight to his cock. God, was he really going to let this ponce of a man do this to him? No, he wasn’t going to let him. He was going to beg him.
“Acceptable?” Stede asked after a moment.
Izzy nodded.
“Where do you want me to...?”
“Anywhere. Just not the face.”
“Right. Let’s see.” With his free hand, Stede gently grasped Izzy’s right bicep and ran his thumb across the smooth, muscled flesh there. Izzy drew in a sharp breath. With his other hand, Stede readied the knife. “You’re sure you want this?”
“Please—” Oh god, he was going to hate himself for this later, “...Captain.”
With that, Stede pressed the blade against the skin of Izzy’s upper arm and drew a sharp line. It couldn’t have been more than an inch across. Stede watched as the cut began to well up with red. His head was spinning. His own blood headed straight for his cock. He couldn’t believe how raw and intimate this felt.
“Fuck,” Izzy breathed softly. He kept his eyes shut. It was one thing to know that Stede Bonnet was doing this to him. But to actually see it, he wasn’t sure if he could bear.
“More?” Stede asked.
Izzy nodded.
Stede drew in another breath and swiped the blade across again, just below the first one. Stede’s cuts were not haphazard like Edward’s were. They were quick and precise, forming a short, neat row down Izzy’s upper arm.
Izzy couldn’t hold back the noises threatening to spill from his mouth anymore. It was overwhelming—the sharp sting of the blade, the hot rivulets of blood dripping down his arm, the heat radiating off of the man in front of him. He thrust his hips forward, desperate for any friction they could find.
Stede bit back a moan at that. His cock was throbbing. He could hardly remember the last time he’d been so aroused—save for his first time with Ed. He slotted their legs together so the other man would have something to thrust against. He couldn’t help but thrust back.
Izzy opened his eyes. They both looked at one another, wide-eyed, each waiting for the other to decide that this had gone too far, but neither said a word.
They continued to desperately rut against each other. The closet was filled with the sounds of ragged breathing, cotton against leather, the occasional moan, and the creaking of the floorboards. “Captain, please,” Izzy choked out, tears stinging his eyes.
Stede whimpered in the back of his throat and raised the blade to Izzy’s arm one last time. Izzy slipped his hand into his own pants and squeezed his cock. As the knife broke his skin, he cried out and came hard against the leather. The sight was too much for Stede, who let out a choked off shriek as he thrust against Izzy’s thigh and met his release as well.
Panting and sweaty, the two men pulled back to look at each other. Stede looked terrified. Izzy furrowed his brow. “Did you just cum?”
“Yes. Sorry!” meeped Stede.
Izzy let out a huff of a laugh. “Fine by me. I didn’t even have to touch you.”
Stede relaxed moderately at that. “Well, I suppose we should get cleaned up and—”
Izzy took the knife from Stede’s hand and licked it clean, handed it back, then proceeded to put his shirt back on without wiping up any of the blood from his arm.
“Oh. That works, I suppose.”
Luck would have it that just when Izzy slipped out of the closet – still sweaty and disheveled – was also when Ed happened to be walking by. Izzy said nothing to his captain, just straightened his shirt and walked away. Ed was still trying to figure out what he’d just seen when an equally sweaty Stede popped out a moment later.
“Did you just...” Ed looked down the hall where Izzy had gone, back to Stede, and back again. “With him?”
“Yes... Sorry!” cried Stede for the second time that day.
Ed just laughed as he pulled Stede into a warm embrace. “Now that’s something I’d like to see.”