Work Text:
Stede can’t believe that he’s making out with Izzy Hands.
Their lips part briefly in the middle of the kissing, and the realization dawns on him. He’s been trying to get close to Izzy for months and now it’s happened. They’re together and it’s better than he’s ever dreamed it could be.
Izzy is also the best kisser he’s ever been with.
The smaller man presses himself up against Stede, slotting himself into his lap, legs spread. His hand curls around Stede’s cheek and he focuses on the action so intensely, like making out is his actual job.
He’s lovely.
Of course, he’d been a dick to Stede for months, but he’s positively lovely underneath all the surliness. He’s a good person, Izzy, and he deserves to feel good about himself.
As they kiss, Stede’s hand makes its way under Izzy’s shirt. The older man is wearing a black t-shirt with scrawled print on the front, an old band t-shirt from a local gig. He doesn’t recognize the band, but he loves how the fabric clings to Izzy’s chest, leaving nothing left to the imagination.
Izzy tenses a little. At first, Stede isn’t certain that’s what he feels, but there’s definitely a minor hitch in his breath and he pulls away. Then, he tries to relax and act like it never happened. They kiss a little more and Stede gasps as Izzy slips his tongue across his bottom lip, a skilled move indeed, one that sends shudders down his spine and to his toes.
He strokes his fingers along Izzy’s back and yes, Izzy’s tense — he’s certain of it. Then again, he’s always tense, ready to spring into action. Maybe it’s nothing. He experiments by sliding his fingers around the curve of Izzy’s hip, ghosting against his skin. That proves he’s tense and the tension feels wrong. Stede’s always been super careful with consent, with making sure that the people he’s with feel comfortable.
Immediately, he stops kissing Izzy and pulls back. Izzy is not happy with that. He actually whines and looks straight into Stede’s eyes, fury burning in him that’s so stupidly hot.
“What the fuck are you pulling away for?”
“Something’s wrong.”
“Nothing’s wrong; what the hell could be wrong?”
Stede looks at Izzy and the expression he gives must wither something inside his partner. Izzy cringes away from him like he’s afraid of him. He hesitates, then moves from Stede’s lap to the couch, running a hand through his tangled hair.
“It was just the touching,” he says, hesitating as if he’s about to say something terrible, something unforgivable. “The way you were touching me made me nervous. I’m fine, though, and there is no issue whatsoever here.”
“Nervous. Why? Did you not want us to…”
Stede is a little confused, but he wants to make sure that Izzy is consenting to their time together. Yes, they’ve had sex before, but he knows better than anyone that consent is completely revocable. Izzy owes him absolutely nothing, and he’s more than content to spend the rest of the night cuddling Izzy to him. Or leaving him the fuck alone, if that’s what Izzy wants.
“My body.”
Stede tilts his head to the side at that quiet admission.
“Izzy, explain.”
While they do not have strict roles in their relationship, Stede has found that he takes a more dominant tone with Izzy, and Izzy enjoys that. At the sound of his voice, Izzy shudders. Oh, he definitely likes that.
Izzy does not want to say this. Stede can see him holding back and he vows to himself that he will wait as long as Izzy needs. Izzy actually flinches and squeezes one of his hands into a tight fist.
“It’s okay.”
Stede hopes his words are soothing, instead of provoking Izzy more, winding him up more tightly. Izzy can be difficult to read, yes, but Stede feels devoted to learning how to do it and figure out who Izzy really is.
“I’m here. Just tell me.”
“It’s my body.”
Izzy groans the words out, a long, deflated drawl.
“What?”
“When you and I get intimate like this, I cannot understand what you see in me, Bonnet. I mean, physically.”
Stede feels a deep tugging in his chest and it hurts. What does Izzy mean by that? It makes his stomach hurt, actually twist, to see that avoidant, fearful look in Izzy’s eyes.
“Please. Explain what you mean by that.”
Izzy lets out a grunt and then looks at the ceiling while he talks, a subtle way of avoiding eye contact, which Stede knows can be hard when Izzy’s feeling emotional. He’s not the biggest fan of prolonged eye contact himself, something they have in common.
“Well, first, I’ve gained weight recently…”
Stede frowns, not fully understanding. Yes, Izzy’s body is softer than when they first met, but that’s a good thing, in his opinion. The Izzy that’s a little wider in certain places is a far more comfortable Izzy, one that’s at ease with himself and their relationship.
“Izzy, you’re over fifty,” he says, chuckling, then sobers up, because he does not want his lover to think that he’s dismissing his fears. He puts a hand on his shoulder and watches as Izzy flinches at the touch. “We all get a little rounder with age, and I think that’s a good thing. I don’t look like I did at twenty-five either and Izzy, babe, I sure as hell don’t want to.”
“It’s not just that,” Izzy says and his eyes are wide, the words coming out in stammered gulps. He’s terrified to say these things, for real! “It’s also the scars, the leg.”
They both get a little quieter as Izzy mentions his leg. The accident that had taken his left leg had occurred before he met Stede, but Stede could recognize Izzy’s insecurity about the prosthetic from the moment they met. While he can’t imagine how tough it must be, he wants to be a supportive partner, to help with that insecurity.
“Izzy. Do you trust me?”
Izzy looks at him for a moment and he can see that Izzy does trust him, but that doesn’t mean that the nerves aren’t there. Izzy nods, but with a tight-lipped expression, a tension in his jaw that accompanies the nod.
“I do.”
“Okay, then I’m going to ask you to get up.”
Izzy reluctantly gets up from the couch. He’s a little unsteady and Stede watches him carefully for clues that this is too much, too far. He wants to do this and feels like Izzy might need it, but he does not want to cross any boundaries that his partner might have.
“I want you to take off your clothes.”
“The fuck?”
“You said you trusted me,” Stede says, trying to keep his tone calm. “If you become uncomfortable or it’s too much, you can use your safeword at any time. I just…think this will be a good idea.”
To his surprise, Izzy strips off his clothes. He does it meticulously, with sharp movements that betray his nerves. He takes off his shirt first, pulling it over his head. To Stede’s delight, it messes his hair up, and Stede cannot resist reaching out to brush back the few stray hairs. Grunting, Izzy glares and then continues to strip off his clothes, unbuttoning his pants and stepping out of them.
“Good boy, Izzy.”
He had learned during their first time together that Izzy got off on praise and attention; Stede was, of course, more than willing to give him all he needed.
He can’t help look at the older man with desperation, with all the love that he is feeling. Izzy’s a precious creature and Stede loves him more than words can say.
It’s strange. On the surface, the two of them don’t have all that much in common. In fact, their first month of dating included some of the most creative insults that he’d ever heard in his life. But they belong together like this and it feels so genuinely good.
Stede loves Izzy, and he knows love isn’t enough to cure insecurity, but it might be an excellent treatment. He takes hold of his lover’s hands the moment that Izzy’s undressed to his underwear and takes him into the bedroom.
“Trust me, okay?”
Stede’s bedroom is a lot less ornate than it used to be. He still has an antique armoire to the left of the room and a huge, full-length mirror to the foot of his bed, but he’s sort of scaled back—a little, at least. Izzy told him that his fancy-ass bedroom was a turnoff, after all.
He sits Izzy down on the end of the bed, facing to the mirror. Izzy sits, but he’s so reluctant. He looks at himself in the mirror as Stede sits down right next to him and Stede notices a brief flicker of terror there.
“Please, don’t…”
Izzy realizes what he’s going to do, and he’s definitely resisting, but he isn’t using his safeword. Stede knows he needs to trust Izzy to use it if he requires it, but still he keeps an eye out for any signs that he might have gone too far. It’s funny. Most people keep the safeword for times when they play gets a little too cruel, a little too intense.
Stede worries Izzy might need to use it because things are too soft.
“If you need to stop, you know the word,” he says, trying to sound confident and reassuring. He ducks down and settles himself in between Izzy’s legs, making sure that his partner can see himself in the mirror. He reaches up and runs a hand along his chest, fingers catching in the hair there.
“I love your chest. How broad it is…”
“I think last time you said ‘Oh my god, your tits.” Izzy’s tone is light, trying to ease some of the discomfort. “You’ve become more eloquent now.”
“I found my words with you.”
"Twat."
“I am an eloquent speaker, usually, but… I also love an excellent set of tits.”
Both of them laugh and it’s a little awkward, but it eases some of the tension. Stede looks up at Izzy and then moves over to his left leg, looking hard at the prosthetic.
He doesn’t know everything about the accident that took Izzy’s leg. He knows, however, that it was a serious car accident and that Izzy feels mostly at fault. It also involves his ex-boyfriend, Edward, someone that Izzy is still incredibly reluctant to speak about and whose very name puts Izzy into a bleak mood. All he knows, however, is that he loves Izzy—all of him. He nudges Izzy’s legs apart and settles in between them, kissing his thigh, right above the cloth that covers the remainder of his missing leg. Izzy shivers, as if chilled, and looks at Stede with something indescribable on his face.
“Stede…”
“I admire your body so much, Izzy.”
He looks up at him, trying to convey how serious the entire conversation is.
“You do?”
“I thought that was quite obvious.”
He runs his fingers down over the prosthetic. Apparently, it’s Izzy’s second. The first had been a “piece of shit that nearly killed him” in Izzy’s own words. He rubs his fingers along the cool metal of the leg, feeling Izzy’s entire body jerk at the tender gesture.
“Stede.”
Izzy’s voice is sharp.
“What, my love?”
“You do not have to do this.” He speaks like he’s ready to fall apart on the spot. “It’s my own fucked up issue and it has nothing to do with you.”
Stede can see how much Izzy needs this, for someone to show him how beautiful he is, softness and scars and leg and all. He kisses the metal and then gets into a comfortable position between Izzy’s legs and nuzzles against his crotch. Izzy’s tension is beautiful because it’s not his usual resistance; yes, he’s resisting, but that he wants more is undeniable.
“You are such a sap.”
“I can be.”
Stede whispers the words against the growing bulge in his underwear. As embarrassed and frustrated as Izzy is, he can’t deny that he is turned on. He has a huge amount of need and Stede can see that right here.
“Are you going to…”
Izzy wants to submit sometimes. Stede can see that in his eyes, but there’s so much resistance to get him to that point.
“Oh, should I point out how much I love that part of your body too?” he asks with a smirk. He can tell how much Izzy needs the praise. Izzy hates to admit to it, to truly own it, but he’s driven by praise and kindness from the man who loves him. He presses a light kiss to the bulge in his partner’s underwear, only to watch Izzy shudder.
“Such a good boy, it’s absurd,” Stede laughs. “Sturdy but sweet, just for me…”
“Can you please…”
“But he is so demanding,” Stede laments, but he’s soft for his Izzy, so he takes down his underwear almost immediately.
Stede cannot describe how much he loves being on his knees for Izzy.
For most of his life, Stede had been in the closet. So, now, he’s unashamed to say that he loves dick — especially Izzy’s. He takes him down and moans aloud as he goes as deep as he can — pushing himself to the limit.
The sounds that Izzy makes in bed are some of his favorite in the world. They’re regular old moans, sure, but in his voice they tear Stede to pieces. Izzy moans like he’s trying to hold back and his fingers fly into Stede’s hair. It feels so wonderful to know that he’s the origin of that pleasure.
Izzy gets lost in it and strokes Stede’s hair, just back-and-forth flicks of his fingers. Stede is, of course, focused on the task at hand, but his eyes waver upward to evaluate Izzy. Yep, he’s gone all soft and fuzzy. That’s exactly what he wants. He brings Izzy close to the edge, but doesn’t want him to fall all the way over—no, not yet, because Stede has other plans for his beautiful partner.
Stede pulls off of Izzy right when he feels like Izzy’s going to reach that point of no return. Izzy makes a soft sound that sounds a lot like “you fucking twat,” but it’s so soft and sighed out that who knows…
“Hush love. Scoot back.”
Izzy must be feeling pliant, submissive, because he doesn’t object. He just scoots back towards the headboard and obeys Stede’s orders like such a good boy.
“Now lay flat on your back. Head on the fluffy pillow.”
Izzy immediately obeys him and Stede can’t help the tiny thrill that causes. He enjoys having this power over Izzy, knowing that he can make Izzy fall apart with the simplest of commands. It’s intoxicating.
Laid out flat on his back, Izzy looks beautiful. His face is flushed and his cock is so hard that it looks painful. Stede wants to touch it, but he resists the temptation. This is about Izzy knowing how beautiful he truly is and knowledge like that is sacred, so he must take his time.
“Look at you,” he says. “You are truthfully the most beautiful man that I have ever laid eyes on.”
Izzy flinches at that.
“Stede…”
“I’m serious,” he says, gently laying a hand on Izzy’s chest, fingers brushing the thick hair there. He slips it down to Izzy’s waist, chuckling internally at the idea of Izzy considering himself too soft. Sure, he had a little more weight than he must have ten, twenty years earlier, but that hardly made him soft. It made him warm, comfortable. He rubs the curve of his belly with gentle hands. “I love everything about touching you.”
“Can we just fuck already?” Izzy asks and his tension was so sweet. “Stede, this is just a lot…”
“I know, love. Do you want to top or bottom tonight?”
They are a pretty versatile pair who often both ways and sometimes avoid penetrative sex all together. He wants to ask Izzy, though, to get his preference.
Izzy freezes and Stede can see the wheels turning in his head and it’s so fucking cute.
“Bottom, okay?”
The vulnerability from his Izzy makes his day.
Stede feels a sudden rush of excitement that he hasn’t experienced in a long time. Izzy asking to bottom, not being all nonchalant about sex with Stede–it’s a big deal! He leans up and presses a kiss to Izzy’s lips, just a gentle, cautious kiss at first. His fingers brush across Izzy’s cheek, feeling the stubble there.
Izzy leans in towards it and Stede admires how much he has changed. It’s not that Izzy never shows his love, but he’s always so repressed, like he has to choose every single action of affection.
“Proud of you, lovely.”
Stede spreads Izzy’s legs and gets an eyeful. His lover’s cock hangs between his legs, desperate and full of need, big and flushed dark. Izzy raises his knee on the right side and Stede slides his fingers down the prosthetic on the left.
“Do you want to take this off?” he asks. Most of the times Izzy leaves it on during sex, ashamed of the injury, but he’s hoping that as open as he’s feeling, he might want to try something else. “It might be more comfortable since you’re to be my pillow princess today.”
Izzy glares at him, but he’s so satisfied that he nods.
Stede helps him take the prosthetic off. He has done it before, but in a much less sexy context. Izzy helps him along the way and in time he and Izzy get the leg off and then Stede lays it down on a pillow set on the floor, keeping it secure. He returns to where Izzy’s socked leg has remained spread as much as he can.
“I want to try something. If you feel uncomfortable, use your…”
“My safeword, yes, I know.”
Stede dips between his legs and licks a stripe along his hole. He lays a hand on his hip and licks several times before delving inside with his tongue. Izzy tenses up and he is almost sure that he is going to stop; he’ll be forced to stop now, won’t he?
“You okay, my love?” he whispers before trying a few more little licks. “This feel uncomfortable? Should I stop?”
“No, no, don’t fucking stop Bonnet.”
The desperation in Izzy’s voice makes him laugh, and he dives back in vigorously, lips and tongue and even teeth scraping along his thigh after pulling off. Izzy’s so wet down there that Stede feels a rush of self-consciousness and shame, but fuck does it feel good.
Stede’s honestly never done this before. He’s read about it, sure, and he’s watched more than his fair share of porn, but he’s never tried it. Stede now knows that it’s not something he’ll ever want to stop doing, especially with Izzy. He sucks and licks and everything just comes to him naturally.
It feels good.
Izzy’s sounds are beautiful, little purrs and desperate gasps that turn him into the complete picture. Izzy’s gasping and rolling his hips and nearly laughing with the desire.
“Feel good, princess?”
Izzy doesn’t even snark at him.
Stede waits until Izzy shakes with desperation, looking at him like he’s everything. Then he takes his mouth off of Izzy’s skin, reluctant to give up the taste, reluctant to move himself away.
He turns them on their side so that they’re both comfortable. Another time, he’s going to let Izzy ride him. Maybe when Izzy’s feeling more comfortable, confident in himself. He gets off of Izzy to get the lube and finds the little blue bottle, wrapping his fingers around it.
He slips his fingers between Izzy’s legs and teases his wet, sticky rim with two fingers. Izzy makes a sound that’s worth everything to him and then Izzy looks at him with those big, blown out eyes like he’s gone mad. He inhales as he tries to get himself under control, but Stede sees he can’t. He likes this side of Izzy, gaping and wild.
“You okay, beautiful?”
Izzy shudders at the word.
“Be better if you moved faster.”
“Cheeky.”
He slips the two fingers inside with no resistance and Izzy arches towards him, trying to get them deeper. Stede probes his fingers in and out, wanting to make Izzy feel as amazing as he makes Stede feel every single day. He doesn’t yet touch his cock though, watching it bob between Izzy’s stout legs. He will not make this easy for him.
“Izzy, you’re so pretty…”
“Stop it.”
“What if I don’t want to?”
He pauses in the movement of his fingers. Izzy whines and rolls his hips to take more. Greedy little thing. It had surprised him when he and Izzy had first hooked up what a needy thing he could be in bed, especially since in his life he was so insistent that he needed nothing.
“You look so good like this…”
Izzy is quiet and Stede can almost see the wheels turning in his head. He adds more lube, wanting things to be as comfortable as possible for Izzy. He’s so full of love and adoration and he can’t help himself. Stede wonders if he could make Izzy come like this, just fingering him and adding more and less until Izzy goes insane, but no, not the day. Izzy needs to be worshipped and adored today; the crueler Stede Bonnet can tease another day, the crueler Stede Bonnet is merciless, but not what Izzy needs.
He teases a little, positioning against him and raising Izzy’s left leg for him.
“Is this comfortable?”
“Mhm.”
He presses in deliberately, breathing alongside Izzy as he slides a hand along the cloth on Izzy’s residual limb and feels the shudder make its way through his — his Izzy. Izzy is his, as much as they’ve danced around that fact.
He takes it in steps, giving Izzy time to adjust to the feeling. While he waits for Izzy to get comfortable, he kisses patterns up and down his shoulder, getting his mouth on whatever flesh that he can manage.
“If you don’t move, Bonnet, I’ll…”
“Oh, threats from my pretty Izzy. Tsk, tsk. I guess I better move.”
He keeps a steady pace, letting his hips rock against Izzy’s as he thrusts hard. Izzy curls his right leg around Stede’s back and Stede dares to caress the remainder of his left leg as he finds the rhythm that leaves his partner squirming. Izzy is a shuddering mess, tears in his eyes and Stede eases his hand down, wrapping it around the base of Izzy’s cock.
“I like this too,” he teases, using his words to bring Izzy to his knees — metaphorically, at least. “Such a beautiful cock. So nice and thick…”
Izzy moans, but the moan almost comes out as a sigh. He knows he’s exhausting Izzy with the praise, but it’s the exhaustion the man he loves deserves. “Mhm,” Stede says, as if they are having a conversation. “I like how sensitive it is, too, especially here.”
As he fucks into Izzy, he rolls his thumb over the underside. He’s learning the little things that make Izzy tick and that’s such a privilege. He strokes him loosely, just lightly, trying to drag out the sensation as he can feel Izzy getting closer and closer to the edge.
“So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, tightening his hold on Izzy’s cock and stroking. He times the strokes with each thrust of his hips, burying himself so deeply into Izzy that he wants to cry. He loves this man. “My Izzy, so beautiful…”
He’s so close to coming, but he’s holding back on sheer will at this point. He wants to make sure that he sees Izzy fall apart and he knows that’s going to make everything worthwhile for him. So, he slows his thrusts down but increases his pressure on Izzy. “Baby, let go, it’s okay.”
He doesn’t expect that to elicit so much emotion from Izzy. He stutters against Stede’s hand and when he releases, his face drops against Stede’s shoulder. Stede supports him as he fucks into him a few more times, driving Izzy through his orgasm. Izzy actually cries when he comes, the tears wet against his shoulder.
Izzy sobs into his shoulder as Stede comes too, which in other circumstances would feel weird, but in that moment feels just right. He holds onto Izzy as they both go through it, kissing at any exposed skin that he can get his mouth on.
“My good boy, I love you…”
Izzy can’t stop crying and Stede understands that. It’s a release of emotions, of feelings that he’d been holding for so long. He holds his lover close and rocks him back and forth, gently.
“It’s okay, it’s okay, I’ve got you now. I love you, beautiful. Always. Mine.”