Chapter Text
“Oh—god.”
It’s all Stede can say—all Stede can think—the moment the head of Ed’s cock breaches him. There’s pressure, like Ed said there would be, and then nothing but a heavy weight and fullness past that initial burn. Stede gasps as Ed continues to sink in, his head dropping back and his legs spreading a little further around Ed’s hips. Opening him up, muscles unused to this kind of stretch burning with it, egging him on in an instinctual way that strokes something entirely new in the back of his mind.
Above him, Ed groans. His eyes are closed, mouth open and slack. Stede can feel the tremble of his thighs as he edges forward, then pulls back, then edges forward again. Getting you used to it, he’d said with two fingers in Stede’s arse, eyes molten where they’d looked at Stede. It’ll be a lot, at first. Just breathe and tell me if you need me to stop or slow down.
There are moments where Stede winces, getting used to the sensation of something thick and hard moving inside him, but he doesn’t ask Ed to stop. Couldn’t, he doesn’t think, even if he wanted to. Instead, he curls his hand around the nape of Ed’s neck, fingers slipping through the short, tight curls left there from Ed’s bun, and pulls him down into a filthy kiss. He pours everything he’s feeling into that: the overwhelm; the pleasure that borders on pain; the love that he has for this man that eclipses everything else.
“Ed,” Stede whimpers, and Ed opens his eyes.
“You doing okay?” he asks, breathless and rough, before stealing another quick kiss.
“It’s—it’s a lot,” Stede says, strained. Ed sinks in further and Stede swears he can feel him in his throat, whines a little at it as he stretches his neck back. There’s a bright prickle of something flaring briefly in him that leaves him throbbing against his belly. “But it feels, ah, feels good.”
Ed’s grin is sharp, knowing, near hidden by his beard. “Yeah it fuckin’ does. Just wait until I start moving, babe.”
“Oh, Christ,” groans Stede. He tilts his hips up, wraps his legs fully around Ed’s waist. True to his word, Ed begins to roll his hips in a slow, purposeful movement, and the noise that leaves Stede when he bottoms out is a deep, cracked thing that hardly sounds like him. “Edward. I feel so full.”
Ed backs off a bit, just enough to look down between them, past Stede’s straining, leaking prick to where they’re joined. “Look at you,” he says, soft. Awed. “You’re taking me so well, Stede. Just swallowing up my cock like this. Fuck. Is it okay to move?”
Stede nods, and he kisses Ed again.
Their first time doesn’t last for much longer after that. Stede comes nearly untouched when Ed slips out on accident as he’s fucking Stede hard enough to make the mattress creak. When he swears and pushes back in, bracing his weight with one hand on the wall, the stretch back around his cock zips through Stede in a bolt of heat. He barely gets a hand around himself before he’s coming with a shout, writhing so much on the bed that Ed has to hold him down with a hand on his hip. Moments later Ed ruts through his own orgasm with a grunt that he muffles in Stede’s shoulder and a shudder that ripples through both of their bodies.
After, when Stede’s catching his breath and staring at the ceiling with Ed pressed in a hot line against him, he lets his mind catch on a little corner of sensation, that bright-hot first stretch of Ed’s cock inside him that ached as much as it satisfied, and allows it to play on a loop.
——
The thought of it doesn’t leave Stede’s mind for days.
They’re on a course after a small merchant ship, just a little routine pirating to see what they can steal to sell at the next port. It’s easy enough stuff for Stede by now that he doesn’t let himself stress and instead trusts Ed’s judgement, leaving him discussing routes and wind speed with Izzy while he goes below decks to tidy up their cabin.
The problem with all that non-stress free time, however, is that Stede keeps thinking about it. More specifically, how to get it again.
It’s there when Stede places his journal on his deck. There when he adjusts the rug next to the bed before straightening the sheets and fluffing up the pillows. He holds a pillow in his hand, cheeks heating up when he recalls the way he’d dug his head into it as Ed pushed into him for the first time.
Fuck. He takes a deep breath and sets the pillow down on the bed, turning on his heel. Though he didn’t tell Ed—mostly because he didn’t want Ed to worry needlessly—he was sore for an entire day afterward. Every time he walked just a little too fast, or when he sat down just a little too hard on the bench in the kitchen, the ache made his breath catch. Made him remember the way it felt to be stretched open, filled, and the way that Ed had looked at him in wonder as he did it.
That ache is gone now, and Stede misses it.
Misses it like a limb, or like something vital. Finds his gaze lingering on Ed’s groin throughout the day, knowing what his cock looks like hard now, knowing how it feels, that spongy-slick slope of a head, the thick, unrelenting girth that follows it. That initial feeling of too-much before it settles into something so good it seems like nothing else in the world can possibly compare.
“You all right, Cap?” asks Oluwande when they’re out on deck later. Evening is setting in on them with a slightly-cooler breeze and a gathering of dark clouds just at the horizon. They obscure the sun, sending her rays bouncing up as glowing, bright gold halos. A small storm, seems like, Ed had said in bed that morning while rubbing his knee. Nothing concerning. His back had been bare in the morning light, curved over with the notches of his spine faint bumps beneath the heavy dark ink of his tattoos.
“Hmm?” Stede makes a noise, then shakes his head and offers Oluwande an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, Olu. I’ve just been…distracted today.”
“You don’t say,” Oluwande says dryly. He sighs. “Listen, I think me ‘n Jim can handle finishing this up. Why don’t you go find Blackbeard?”
Stede tilts his head, confused. “Ed is just up there—”
“Yeah, so go find him.”
Stede ascends the stairs, still puzzling over the dismissal. He’s sure he didn’t say anything that was annoying, and it’s not his first time getting distracted, he’ll admit it. Maybe Oluwande wanted alone time with Jim? Stede has eyes, and it’s impossible to miss the looks they send each other when they think no one else is paying attention.
All is forgotten the moment Ed turns and sees him, beaming so wide his eyes crinkle and go squinty. It sets Stede’s belly to fluttering, this burgeoning feeling that sometimes catches him off-guard when it grabs him. It’s still hard to believe sometimes that this man loves him, and that he wants him, and that Stede can want him right back.
“Hey, babe,” says Ed, bringing a hand up to Stede’s cheek as he kisses him. “Buttons agrees with me that the storm should work in our favour, get us closer to that ship a bit sooner, possibly at daybreak.”
“Aye,” says Buttons with a solemn nod, his hands on the wheel and his eyes on the horizon.
Ed’s hand has slid to the slope of Stede’s neck, where he rubs slow circles into the silk of Stede’s vest and the linen of his blouse. Automatic, unconscious, the way Ed’s tactile touches always are. They always make Stede feel special, like he’s the only man in the world who’s ever caught Ed’s attention. He feels the warmth and the pressure all the way down to the tips of his toes. Recalls that hand on his hip, squeezing hard, holding him down to shove his cock into him again and again, and suddenly the warmth is a lot less like a pleasant bath and more like being next to an uncontrolled, roaring fire.
“Edward,” Stede says, voice a bit rough, “darling. That’s wonderful. But could you, ah, come with me downstairs to our quarters, perhaps? I have some ideas about the, um, the raid that I’d like to run by you.”
“Of course, man!” Ed gives his shoulder a squeeze and says goodbye to Buttons. He dutifully follows Stede down the stairs, through the open door, and down the short hallway gone dim with the evening, the sconces not yet lit.
Once they’re inside the cabin, Stede doesn’t bother with words, at least not right away. Instead he shuts the door, pushes Ed up against the wall, and kisses him with everything he’s got.
It doesn’t take Ed long to get on board, his initial surprise forgotten the moment Stede teases at the seam of Ed’s lips with his tongue. Then, Ed moans, pulling Stede in close, and kisses back just as hard. He touches everywhere, he always does, hands sweeping over Stede’s back, down his arms, up to his neck and into his hair. Like he can’t get enough of Stede under his hands and wants to discover more. Stede groans with it, pushes closer, brings a hand down to squeeze Ed’s arse.
Ed gasps, pulls back, eyes wide and beard slick where it borders the corners of his mouth. “Fuck, fuck, wait, Stede—not that I don’t enjoy a little afternoon delight now and then, but what has gotten into you?”
“Need you to fuck me,” breathes Stede without pause, sliding a hand between them to cup Ed through his leathers. He’s hard already, filling Stede’s palm; Stede moans, rubbing the heel of his palm over Ed as Ed jerks against him and clutches harder at his arm. “God, Ed, I can’t think about anything else. I haven’t been able to since the other night.”
“Fucking hell,” says Ed, capturing Stede’s jaw with his free hand and kissing him deep, desperate, making little surprised noise when Stede reaches around to grab a handful of his arse. “Okay, yeah,” he says against Stede’s lips. “Bed, let’s fucking go, babe.”
Clothes are shed quickly along the way, landing in an obvious trail towards the nook. By the time they reach it they’re both naked, hands on each other’s stiff cocks and their kisses growing increasingly sloppy; the second the backs of Stede’s knees hit the wood he’s falling back, tugging Ed down with him.
At some point, Stede swears as they manoeuvre awkwardly on the mattress, he’s going to commission a bigger bed. Something where they can stretch out, roll around. Explore each other for hours on end like he’s fantasised about without worrying about falling off the edge or knees and elbows getting in the wrong places.
For now, though, as he unselfconsciously gets onto all fours, he’ll take what he can get.
“Yeah,” Stede whines when Ed rubs the slick pads of his fingers over his hole. Arches his back, pushes against those fingers, reaches down to tug himself a few times just to take the edge off. He huffs out a groan at the gentle press of Ed’s knuckles against his taint. “Inside, Ed, now, please.”
One sinks in easily enough, and Stede moans his gratitude into his forearm. Ed, thank god, is just as adept at reading situations in the bedroom as he is outside of it and pulls back to sink another finger in. He breathes out a soft noise just as Stede does and says, “Look at this. You were greedy for it, sweetheart, weren't you?”
The words strike Stede in a near-physical way. Clang deep inside him, reverberating in his chest like the echoes of a drum. He gasps, and he throbs between his legs; as he peers down, he watches a thick line of pre-come string to the sheets, sees the way his cock twitches again and drools more.
“Fuck,” breathes Ed, distant, awed. Somewhere above himself Stede is aware that he’s faintly trembling. “You liked that, huh?”
“Yes.” Stede reaches back, grips a cheek to pull himself open wider, never mind that with the spread of his thighs and the angle of his hips he’s as wide as he can be. Just the idea fuzzes his thoughts, scorching at the corners of his mind and eating its way through with the kind of rapid pace that quickly tosses aside any other rational thought. Ed’s fingers sink in again, spreading, stretching, and Stede chokes on a breath at the burn they bring with it. “More. Please, give me more.”
The bed shifts, and Ed quietly swears, then swears louder when Stede clenches around his fingers. A faint, quick sound of skin-on-skin, followed by the hot-slick press of Ed’s cock against the back of his thigh. “Jesus. Gonna fucking kill me, Stede.”
“Not until after you’ve fucked me.”
Ed barks out a laugh, bracing himself with a hand on Stede’s hip. “Yeah, okay, I see how it is. You just want me for my cock.”
“It is—oh fuck, yes—a very nice cock, darling.”
“But piss off to the person it’s attached to, eh?” Ed screws his fingers in deeper, hooks them just right to get a bolt of pleasure running the length of Stede’s spine. Stede doesn’t need to look back to hear the smile in Ed’s voice. “You’re lucky I think you’re cute, Bonnet.”
The feeling that zips through him at that is brighter than any pleasure, more consuming than any lust. It leaves Stede burying his face in his forearms, helpless against its pull. He still isn’t used to being admired so blatantly—still isn’t used to any admiration, really. Sometimes the looks that Ed rakes over him are hotter than coals, leaving Stede filled to the brim with too many feelings and not enough ways to express them.
Ed catches it; he does, he always does. Can read Stede like he can read the sky, or the wind, or one of their maps. Easy, effortless. Never makes a fuss about it, either, just quietly sidesteps or moves on or pretends like it didn’t happen. This time, he slides his fingers out, bends to press kisses down Stede’s spine, the soft, loose ends of his hair trailing alongside him. His lips leave cool, damp circles behind. His rough, broad hand blazes down Stede’s thigh, up his hip, over his pubic hair and up his trembling belly.
After Ed slicks himself up, he doesn’t ask Stede if he’s ready; there’s just the blunt head of his cock teasing at Stede’s hole before pushing in, deep, and Stede arches and gasps and goes loose, panting in the humid space between his body and the bed as his body adjusts and his brain quiets and everything slots into that just good place he’s been thinking about since their first time.
“Oh, god,” he gasps again, just like that first time, mind stuck on that wheel to rotate endlessly around the feeling of being stretched more than he thought possible. Ed is so thick, and he’s so hard, and it feels like he’s everywhere.
“Yeah,” Ed replies, breathless with it. Voice gone deep, rough, accent thickening. “Took me so well. Just let my cock sink all the way in. God, babe, your fuckin’ arse.” He squeezes it, and Stede can’t suppress his squeak at the sharp sensation it sends through him.
“Oh fuck.” Stede tries to remember how to breathe; he scrambles up onto all fours, swaying, steadied only by Ed’s hands on his hips. This is—it’s so different from being on his back. It feels more, somehow. As if he’s filled up in an entirely different way. Crowded up in his throat, pushing against his lungs. “ Ed. ”
Like he knows exactly what Stede is experiencing—probably because he is, Stede is sure he has to—Ed squeezes his hip and says, “It’s a lot more, right? Easier to get deeper this way.”
A lot more feels like an understatement. “Yeah. Fuck, you feel incredible.”
“Gonna fuck you hard now,” Ed says, tight with restraint. His hand slides up Stede’s side, dips down to his chest to rub over his nipple, pinching it when Stede squirms and whimpers. “That okay?”
“Please.” It comes out as little more than an explosion of breath, but Ed hears it, of course he does. He eases Stede’s knees wider and shuffles in closer; then he grips Stede’s shoulder, pulls his hips back, and fucks in hard.
Whatever Stede was expecting with hard, whether it was the steady pace of the other night or their more enthusiastically exchanged blowjobs, it’s nothing like what Ed gives him now. Because what Ed gives him now is unrelenting: the bruising collision of hipbones on Stede’s arse; the sense of being owned, of being taken. Of harsh breaths and sweat and the brush of Ed’s hair as he bends over Stede.
Ed’s the one to take Stede’s cock in hand this time, jerking him quick and tight. It makes Stede shout, toes curling, and half a dozen strokes has him coming hard, tightening around Ed’s cock and spilling over his knuckles down to the sheets.
“Fuck,” swears Ed behind him. There’s a rush of hot breath as he presses his lips to Stede’s shoulder, humping in deep, deep, body trembling. “Oh, fucking—I’m close, Stede. Gonna, g-god—”
He pulls out at the last second, spilling in long, hot pulses over Stede’s arse and thighs with a grunt. It has Stede moaning weakly, turning to look at the pleasure-pained furrow of Ed’s brow, the last strings of come that drool from the ruddy head of his prick that, as Stede watches, Ed smears onto his skin, then rubs his softening cock over with a soft, groaned, “Fuck, yeah, babe, so fucking hot.”
Already the ache has set in. Stede feels it in his thighs, his arms, his core from where he strained and pushed back. He hums when he feels the slip of Ed’s fingers over him, groans when those fingers slip between his cheeks to rub over his hole.
“Feeling okay?” asks Ed. He pets over Stede’s hip, massaging gently as he goes. His voice has slipped into a quieter register, honeyed and even. “Hands and knees can be a bitch if you’re in that position for a long time. Do you need anything?”
“Mmm,” says Stede, wriggling to assess the state of his body. It’s not pleasant, but it’s not un pleasant, either, though his hip is starting to ache in a way that means he’ll pay for it later. Worth it, he supposes, as he supposes often now that he knows what really good sex is. “It’s not bad, but I wouldn’t say no to cleaning up and cuddling.”
“Ah, of course.” Ed is grinning when he bends down and kisses Stede, using his clean hand to angle Stede’s head. “I’ll grab the towel, sweetheart. Be right back.”
——
Buttons’s prediction proves correct, and the sky is just barely beginning to turn purple when the Revenge catches up to the merchant ship. Stede stands next to Ed at the gunwale, blood singing and heart pounding. He turns to catch Ed’s eye, the wind whipping his loose hair around his face and shorter beard, and gives him a sharp, delighted grin that Ed instantly returns.
And when Stede braces himself to board the merchant ship, when he unsheathes his sword to ready himself and adjusts his stance to compensate for it, the ache is there again in the shift of his feet and the sway of his body. Telling him. Reminding him.
The raid goes well. Better than well, actually: the ship was carrying a few crates of indigo, which Stede effusively told the team would fetch them more gold than anything else they’d nicked. He’d made off with a few new books for himself and Ed, as well as a rather large, comfortable sapphire pillow edged in soft golden tassels that would look lovely on the couch.
A few jewels had caught his eye, too: a stunningly simple freshwater pearl necklace that would contrast beautifully with Ed’s skin; a ruby ring to replace the one Ed had lost a month or so back, and a new gold signet for himself. Those Stede pockets surreptitiously, waiting for the right moment to surprise Ed with them. Just the thought of seeing Ed’s face light up makes Stede’s heart pound dangerously fast.
Stede leaves the crew to split up the rest and takes his books and pillow to his quarters. The jewels go into his jewellery box, the pillow to the couch—where it does look lovely against the burgundy velvet—and the books on the desk to be shelved properly later.
They celebrate a raid well done that night. Frenchie had found a store of champagne that they bring over to the Revenge, and Roach pops a bottle under the soft orange glow of the lanterns, bubbles fizzing up over the neck to drip down onto the deck.
Later, four glasses deep each and in that pleasant, warm space where everything feels perfect, Ed and Stede stumble down to the cabin. They bid the crew, who are currently in a rousing rendition of an old shanty Ed knows but Stede doesn’t, goodnight, and Stede purposefully ignores the lewd noises and comments; Lucius really ought to mind his business, with what Stede has heard. He pretends he doesn’t feel hot from his face down past his collar as he touches the small of Ed’s back and gets a whoop in response.
They're unable to keep their hands off each other as they giggle and kiss and tug ineffectually at clothes, which makes them giggle all over again. Stede crashes back-first into the door with a moan with Ed plastered against him, feeling blindly behind himself for the knob as Ed tugs his cravat loose and pulls open the top buttons of his shirt and kisses him with an open sort of desperation that goes straight to Stede’s cock.
Once Stede finds the knob he turns it without thinking, sending them both stumbling into the room holding onto each other, panting breaths and slick mouths loud in the quiet of the room. Ed knocks the door closed with his boot, hands on Stede’s arse, and steers them jaggedly toward the couch.
Stede’s never fooled around while drunk. Never had cause to, really, nor had he seen the appeal. With Ed, though? It’s perfect. Ed can get loose and dopey-eyed with his affection when he’s had a few, Stede’s learning, and it’s addictive. He’s sweet and pliant, kisses Stede so softly, petting at his face and murmuring quiet adulations against his mouth. Just like he is now, sipping at Stede’s lips, peppering kisses to his jaw and his chin as he backs Stede across the room and saying things like You’re so perfect and Can’t wait to get you out of these frilly fucking clothes, you have no fuckin’ idea, man.
Stede has an idea. In fact, he has several ideas, and all of them involve them both naked and Ed inside him.
Once they reach the couch Ed pushes Stede down onto it, quickly climbing over him to straddle his lap. Reaching behind himself with both hands he tugs his shirt up and over his head, letting it drop to the floor as his hair settles messily across his shoulders.
Stede pouts, running his hands up Ed’s sides. “I wanted to do that.”
Chuckling, Ed untucks Stede’s shirt, pushing it up as he says, “I’ll let you undress me next time, love, sound good?”
A petulant whine builds at the back of Stede’s throat as he raises his arms to help Ed tug his shirt off; he tamps it down with a nod, going for the front of Ed’s trousers as Ed goes for his. They’re both hard when their cocks bob free, and Ed takes them in hand to give them a quick squeeze, asking, “What do you want to do?”
The answer is quick and obvious, at least to Stede. “I was thinking you could fuck me again, darling. After I’ve sucked your cock.”
Ed inhales sharply. Squeezes their pricks and leaves Stede to inhale sharply in echo as he throbs in Ed’s hand. Ed’s eyes, already dark and wide, seem bottomless when they fix Stede with a look. “Yeah? Gonna get me all wet for you? Slick enough for me to slide right in?”
Stede shudders, drags Ed down for a kiss. Drags his nails up the length of Ed’s back, chasing the shiver and ripple of muscle and skin in its wake, the squirm of Ed in his lap as he whimpers and jerks them both off until Stede is leaking against his belly and Ed is leaking against them both.
They quickly get rid of boots and shoes. Quick work is made of Ed’s leathers and Stede’s breeches, though a little more care, albeit slightly distracted, is taken with Stede’s stockings.
The rug is soft under Stede’s knees when he slides to the floor, and a curl of warmth runs through the length of him when Ed looks down, a soft adoration in his eyes, and spreads his legs. Tilts his hips up and out, bringing his arse closer to the edge of the seat. Stede reaches up, rests his hands on the soft insides of those thighs and runs them up and down, slow, just to watch the hitch of Ed’s breath and the half-lid fall of Ed’s eyes.
Blowjobs are still new to Stede. Adjusting to the weight, the stretch, training himself to not gag even when he wants to—it’s been a process, but one that he’s taken to with aplomb. Because, much like the stretch of Ed’s cock or fingers in his arse, Stede loves the stretch of his jaw after a long, thorough session. There’s no way that tonight will be one of those sessions, but Stede’s hoping to make up for it. Can, lewdly, feel his hole clench at just the thought.
Settling into a more comfortable position, Stede takes Ed in hand, bending forward to nuzzle against Ed’s balls, then rubs his cheek over the length of his cock. “Love how you smell,” he murmurs, blinking up at Ed. Circles his fingers just under the head, where the foreskin has pulled back, and rubs the damp tip over his lips before he parts them and sinks down.
“Oh—!” Ed arches, winding his fingers through Stede’s hair. His head has fallen back, candlelight casting dark, wavering shadows over the hollow of his throat and the valley between his collarbones. “Christ, mate, your fuckin’ mouth. Should come with a warning.”
Mouth full, Stede moans, sinking down over and over, getting Ed wet, thinking about reaching a hand behind himself and pressing two fingers in deep. Then he does, because he has to, because he can’t not. Touches two dry fingertips to the furl of his arsehole, pushing his arse out as he shivers and hollows his cheeks and sucks spit-sloppy and loud and savours the beginning of an ache in his jaw and the half-gag of the head of Ed’s cock hitting the back of his throat.
Pulling back to gasp a breath, legs spread wide on the carpet and cock leaking pre-come in a gossamer strand between them, Stede flicks his eyes up. Makes sure Ed is watching him, and he is, lips parted, other hand fisted into the couch cushion. Stede rubbing the pad of one finger over his hole, works Ed’s slick cock with a loose fist.
And Ed?
Ed barely gets out a strained, shocked, “Oh shit, I’m gonna fucking—” before he’s flexing in Stede’s grip and coming across Stede’s mouth and jaw, down his throat, dripping across his bare chest and one peaked, pink nipple. The hand still in Stede’s hair pulls sharply, skittering pain across his scalp that pools in the base of his heavy prick. Thankfully none lands hear his eyes, though Stede had reflexively closed them at the first hot spurt into his open mouth.
“Stede. Fuck, shit, man. I’m so sorry.”
Carefully opening his eyes, Stede looks up to find Ed leaning down, a hand coming to cradle his jaw and his brows furrowed deeply as he asks, “I didn’t get any in your eye, did I?”
Stede, still floating someplace warm as he processes how absolutely and thoroughly debauched he feels, shakes his head. Some of Ed’s semen slides down his cheek, and he shivers at the feeling.
“I didn’t mean to come so early,” says Ed apologetically. As he bends in closer his hair tumbles over his shoulder. “Rain check? I promise to rail you nice and good in the morning.”
Stede considers it. It probably would be much better in the morning, when they’re both sober. However, alcohol, Stede’s noticed, makes his blood run hotter than usual. His erection hasn’t flagged, and the low-level thrum of arousal continues to buzz just under his skin, made even hotter by the mess cooling on his face.
Really, he can’t be blamed when he says, “Finger me. With your come.”
Ed chokes on his next breath. Stede just looks at him, brows raised. Sneaks a hand down between his legs, clocks the flick of Ed’s eyes down when he wraps a hand around himself and strokes.
“I fucking love you,” Ed breathes. “Jesus fucking Christ. Come here, you filthy man, up on the couch for me.”
They switch places, Ed carefully kneeling on the rug, Stede’s legs spread wide and his arse on the edge. Ed is slow and methodical as he cleans his come off Stede’s face, coating his fingers. Then he pauses. “Wait—are you still sore from last night?”
“I don’t care,” Stede says. What he doesn’t say is please let it hurt, just a little. Let me feel it tomorrow and the day after so I never forget what you feel like inside me.
They’ll work up to that.
For now, the first press of Ed’s finger, slick but not quite as slick as it would be with oil, has a deep groan rumbling its way through Stede’s chest. It does ache a little more than usual, the stretch easy but not without complaint, and Stede chases it, sighs when Ed’s as deep as he can go and rotates his finger, crooking it.
“Still okay?” Ed asks.
With a loose nod, Stede takes himself in hand, squeezing at the base as Ed pulls out slightly, then pushes back in. “It’s so good, Edward. Another. Please.”
This time, Ed doesn’t ask, he just does; one finger retreats, then two are pressed at Stede’s rim, sliding in with minimal resistance. Stede’s back arches sharply, legs pulling open wider, enough to tremble as he moans.
“Wish you could see how you look right now,” Ed rumbles, and Stede’s heart trips in his chest. “You’re always so fuckin’ hungry for me inside you. Never expected you to be this desperate, and it drives me absolutely fucking wild, baby.”
Baby. Stede cries out, Ed’s name or a moan, he isn’t sure, just knows that his voice cracks through the cabin and Ed chuckles between his legs.
“I promise I’m gonna fuck you so good tomorrow,” Ed continues, twisting his fingers deeper, angling them until they brush that spot that makes Stede’s cock leak a blurt of pre-come onto his trembling belly. The slide becomes dry, skin catching in delicious drags of a sharp sting, and Ed bends forward to trail a line of saliva between his fingers, pushing it in. “Yeah, that’s it. Nice and hard, just the way you want. You’ll be so good for me, won’t you? Taking me like that. God, Stede, you’re so fucking wet right now.”
As much as he tries to hold off, to last, Stede’s control is equally as frayed as Ed’s; just the low timbre of Ed’s voice, alongside the praise and dirty talk and the rough movement of his fingers, has Stede writhing, hooking a leg over Ed’s shoulder as he comes over his belly and fist, each pulse a bright, hot spark that seems to never end. It leaves him panting at the end of it, lips and mouth dry as he stares up at the ceiling and feels the warm slide of his semen down his chest.
“Oh my god,” he says toward the ceiling. Lifts an arm just to check that he hasn’t fully melted into the couch itself and catches sight of his slick, dirtied fingers.
“You said it,” says Ed from the floor. Then, a little muffled, “Ow, fuck, my fucking knee.”
——
Ed makes good on his promise, and in the gilded light of morning he’s got Stede on all fours, hand to the wall, with his cock buried deep. It aches, and it’s almost too much the rougher Ed gets, and Stede loves every single second of it.