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Izzy has been cooped up in his room all evening, cross about Edward’s decision to go to that stupid party on that stupid French vessel dressed like a complete, stupid knob. And that wasn’t the worst of it, he’d had to help Edward get dressed in all the required frippery. The lacy sleeves, that ridiculous coat, and his hair. Edward had held up some ribbons, flowers, and pins, asking for Izzy to do his hair. So he’d dutifully combed out his wild mane, pomaded and powdered, twisted and pinned, until it was tucked up in a knot at the back of his head, a froth of paper flowers and lace butterflies tucked in.
And if that wasn’t bad enough, Izzy had to help Edward with his BEARD. Once again, Izzy combed and pomaded with something special Bonnet had given him, that smelled like flowers. Then he’d had to tie the fucking ribbons on, like Edward was some kind of show horse that would be prancing in front of spectators. Well, Izzy supposed that wasn’t too far off, from what he remembered of the rich and pompous.
And so Edward had departed, leaving Izzy irate, his fingers aching with the ghost of Edward’s hair in his hands, stinking of perfumed pomade. As soon as he’d locked himself in his room, Izzy had a proper wank to the thought of Edward chastising him for making him look as twattish as that insufferable Bonnet.
He’d fallen into a doze after, unsure when Edward planned to return. Later, he jerked awake to the sound of someone trying to open the door, but he’d bolted it since none of these twats understood privacy.
“Izzy, let me in!” came Ed’s voice in a harsh whisper.
Ah, so the party was over. When Izzy unbolted the door, Ed barged in, smelling of… smoke? with underlying layers of alcohol, sweat, and perfume. “You have a good time?” Izzy dared to ask.
“Terrible,” Ed said, flopping down on Izzy’s bunk and stretching out his legs. “Well, it was fun at first, until they started laughing at me.”
He knew this was a bad idea. Edward hadn’t spent enough time around the types who frivolously held parties on boats and who needed a dozen utensils to eat. Izzy noticed Edward was already trying to shrug off his coat, so he gestured for his captain to stand up, better to get him out of it now. It was all he could do to keep himself from ripping the infernal frock coat at the seams, he wanted Edward out of the reminder of his humiliation.
As soon as the coat was off, Edward said, “But then Stede did something amazing! I was going to shoot the lot, but he said he would handle it, then the next thing I knew the place was in flames, and get this!” His eyes were wide. “He said he’d done it with passive aggression!”
Izzy suppressed a scowl, undoing the buttons of Ed’s waistcoat. Damn that fucking Stede Bonnet. Edward couldn’t see that this was all that fop’s doing anyway, and if he’d never gone, they would have never laughed at him. But here he was, acting like Bonnet had gone in swinging from the rafters.
The waistcoat done, Izzy started working on the lace ribbon and frothy cravat at Edward’s neck. While he was undoing the complicated knots, he noticed Edward swaying more than usual. Perhaps he’d overindulged in the spirits aboard the French vessel. Izzy would have to remember to leave a mug of water at Edward’s bedside, make sure he didn’t wake with a headache. With the neckwear removed, Izzy took Edward by the shoulders to undo his hair. His captain sighed as the last of the pins came out and his hair unwound from the back of his head.
“I can’t believe what I almost did tonight,” Edward said with a sigh.
“What’s that?” Izzy responded, expecting another episode of restrained violence.
“I almost kissed Stede,” was Edward’s reply.
WHAT? Izzy’s hands trembled, caught up in the long hair in his hands. Oh, Bonnet would pay for this. Sighing, Edward leaned back against him, and he had to catch the man by the shoulders before he fell over. Satin slid under his fingers as Edward’s head leaned against his own. Surrounded by perfumed hair, Izzy acted as he’d always done, a stone for his captain to lean upon. But inside, he was torn. As Blackbeard’s first mate, he’d been privy to his captain’s highest and lowest moods. He’s seen the trysts, the dalliances, the there and gone fascination with others. But he’s never seen Edward like this. Yes, it’s still new, and Edward’s attention on new toys never lingered for long, but this. Especially after the clothes swapping. This made him worry just a bit.
On the other hand… Edward’s softness, his relaxed posture, it did something to Izzy. It’s been years since Edward has shown any interest in him, and he’s made peace with that somewhat. He’s grown to crave the violent outbursts, the brilliant competence; always at his side, Izzy got to observe it all. But to touch, only as his second command, as a servant. So Izzy resents the easy camaraderie of the Revenge’s crew. Loathes the relaxed confidence of Stede Fucking Bonnet. He only hopes the shine wears off for Edward sooner rather than later.
“Should have… kissed…” Edward murmurs, leaning more heavily against Izzy.
Yeah, time to get him to bed. “Come on Captain, off with this shirt. You’ll feel better when you’re in your own clothes.” Izzy reached to start pulling the shirt from Ed’s breeches.
Edward’s hands fell on his own, and Izzy fell still, not breathing. He felt as those hands guided his lower… lower… down the front of velvet breeches to an impressive erection. This couldn’t be happening. In spite of himself, Izzy’s hand twitched, which caused Edward’s hips to buck.
Mixed emotions coursed through Izzy. Anger at Stede Bonnet. Frustration at Edward for his erratic whims. Equal parts shame and excitement for how he currently found himself. Because right then, if he wanted, he could have Blackbeard — no, Edward Teach, right then and there. The temptation was strong, and he was already undoing the buttons on those breeches when he heard Edward sigh, “Stede.”
Fuck. Shame burned hot on his face and he hid it in Edward’s hair while he pushed the breeches off Edward’s hips, exposing his legs to the stifling air of the room. He would do this for his captain, because that’s what Israel Hands does. Soon enough, Blackbeard will kill Bonnet and they could put all this behind them. But for now, he had his gloved hand on Edward’s hip, pulling their bodies flush while his other hand stroked the thick length of his captain’s cock.
Buttocks ground against Izzy’s leather-clad front while he jerked Edward off with efficient motions. This wasn’t allowed to take long. It couldn’t, for Izzy’s sake. Couldn’t turn it into more than what it was, nothing but crumbs dropped from his infatuated, drunken captain who only sought relief. So he buried his face in Edward’s back, choking on the scent of flowers, while he pulled, twisted his wrist, all while hips ground back against him, and moans escaped the mouth that only wanted to kiss another. But he took what he could get, and finally, Ed shuddered, his cock spurting onto Izzy’s fist, the floor, that damned satin shirt.
He used it to wipe the mess from his hand before helping Edward sit on the bed. Pulled the shirt from Ed’s head, then levered the man onto his back before covering him with a coarse blanket. He could deal with dressing himself when he awoke. Letting himself out of the room, Izzy escaped to the night air on the deck, looked up at the full moon glowing above, down at himself where he wasn’t even hard after all that.
He made a fist and was going to punch the mast when he heard what sounded like… a flute? A glance around showed a naked form on the quarterdeck, seagull perched atop their head. Fucking imbeciles, all of them. Izzy made his way to the foredeck of the ship, decided to keep watch. After tonight, he couldn’t go back to his room. And he wasn’t about to sleep with the rest of the crew. No. He’d keep the night watch until dawn.