Work Text:
Stede is generally a deep sleeper, so he’s surprised when he jolts awake in the middle of the night. Takes a moment to get his bearings. Right. He’s alone in his cabin aboard the Revenge. Not shoved up among the lads in Spanish Jackie’s basement, not sleeping on the deck of the Red Flag. He’s comfortably ensconced amid cozy blankets and clean, pillaged pillows. His cherished nightshirts and velvet eye mask are long gone; in lieu of proper jammies, he’s wearing his new red shirt with the black lace details and nothing else. (Of all the crimes he’s willing to commit, wrinkled trousers is not one of them.) Stede lays there, listening to the light slap of the waves against the hull, and wonders what could have woken him.
Somewhere beyond the curtains that enshroud his bunk’s niche, a bell jingles.
Stede lifts his head from the pillow. “Ed?” he whispers. “Is that you?”
There is a short stretch of silence before the bell rings again, louder this time, closer. The curtains part in the gloom. Ed’s face appears, sheepish and nose-scrunched.
“Sorry,” he says in an even softer whisper. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”
Stede sits up in bed, letting the blankets pool in his lap. “Is everything all right?” He feels a warmth spread through his chest. Faint moonlight paints the planes of Ed’s face like high art. It reminds him of a few nights ago on the deck, when they’d chatted about their days and—kissed. And then stopped, because Ed had wanted to stop. Stede’s hands still buzz with the memory of Ed’s fingers twined in his.
“Yeah, no problems,” Ed says. He glances behind himself. The captain’s cabin isn’t as richly appointed as it’d once been, but the crew has been adding bits and bobs from the ships they raid. There’s a good-sized desk and a few chairs, at least. “Thought I might sleep here tonight. Don’t mind bunking with the others, usually, but Roach made chili for dinner so….” He turns back to Stede and pulls a face.
“Ah, yes.” Stede is sympathetic as only a man who’d slept beside Wee John for months could be. “The flatulence is an issue.”
“Yep.” Ed nods, his bell jangling. “So. That okay with you?”
“Well, there’s no couch,” Stede points out. “Where will you sleep?”
The curtains part further to reveal Ed’s body. He’s still wearing his sandals and sackcloth. Stede's throat goes dry. The man can make even that look tempting. “I was just going to crash on the floor.”
“Oh, Ed, you don’t have to do that.” Stede tosses the bedclothes aside, swinging his bare legs over the edge of the mattress. His shirt hem falls to mid-thigh, so he’s not completely immodest. “Here, you have the bed tonight. I can take the floor.”
“Nah. No way. I’m the one doing penance, aren’t I?” Ed takes a step back, his hand coming up to cradle the bell fastened around his neck. Its ring goes dull. His gaze is stuck on Stede’s kneecaps. “Can’t toss you out of bed.”
“It’s fine, really. I’ve gotten pretty good at sleeping rough.” Stede can’t help the note of pride in his voice. “Besides, you’re still recovering. You need proper rest.” Scant days ago, Ed had been at death’s door. The fact that he’s walking and talking is a miracle, one that Stede can’t think about too much or else it gets hard to breathe.
Ed hesitates, his eyes lifting to meet Stede’s before dropping back down. He’s tempted, Stede can tell by the way his tongue darts out to wet his lips. “I shouldn’t,” he says. “It’s yours.”
Stede’s heart surges in his chest like a summer squall. He’s never wanted anyone or anything the way he wants Ed near him. Would it be selfish to—? “We could share it,” he says before he stops himself. “If you want. But only…only if you want.”
Ed’s eyes stare at him in the dark, huge and dark and round. His lips part, but no words come out.
Too fast, Stede chastises himself. Too bloody fast. “We don’t have to—”
“All right,” Ed says. His voice is so quiet, Stede isn’t sure he heard correctly.
“Pardon?”
“I said, all right.” Ed swallows and steps through the break in the curtains. The fabric sweeps closed behind him. “If you’re sure.”
Stede has never been more sure of anything in his life. Even after several days, he can still feel Ed’s lips on his, the heat of his body pressing close, the wiry lushness of his hair under Stede’s hand. Even if it’s just sleeping, Stede wants it. He wants whatever Ed will give.
He scoots over on the mattress, practically plastering himself against the bulkhead next to the windows. “Of course,” he says, trying not to squeak in eagerness. “Plenty of room for you.”
Ed bites his lips and shuffles out of his sandals. He’s so gorgeous like this, Stede thinks. He doesn’t even realize how gorgeous he is. Ed climbs into bed, his silver hair swaying in the moonlight, bell ringing faintly.
“I’m a bit of a restless sleeper,” Ed says as he slips his legs under the blankets. “Sorry in advance if I jingle all night.”
“I don’t mind. I can sleep through almost anything.” Stede slides under the bedclothes as well. The bed isn’t terribly wide, which Stede is very glad for. The rough fabric of Ed’s sleeve brushes against his hand. For a moment, he considers telling Ed he’s welcome to take off the uncomfortable outfit, but—slow. They’re taking it slow. He lays on his side and stares at Ed next to him. He almost can’t believe he’s here, and for the whole night.
Ed meets his gaze. “Thanks. For this.” His hand moves under the blankets and finds Stede’s. Their fingers wrap together.
Stede’s breath hitches. Ed’s hand is warm and rough. Stede loves it; he loves every part of him. “My pleasure,” he whispers.
He’s steeling himself for their goodnights, when he’ll have to let go of Ed’s hand. But Ed—he rolls onto his side, ring-a-ding, and holds Stede’s hand tighter. His eyes are twin questions: Can I? Could you? He shimmies a bit, chiming, before he leans in and presses a kiss to Stede’s mouth.
Slow, Stede reminds himself, nice and slow. He keeps his hands where they are, the lucky one clutching Ed’s, the other fisted in the sheets. If he touches more of Ed, he’ll grab, he’ll take hold, he’ll try to keep Ed there forever, and that’s not what they’re doing. They’re taking their time.
Ed’s tongue, hot and wet, licks along Stede’s bottom lip.
A small cry leaves Stede’s throat, a helpless apology. His jaw falls open and his tongue seeks out Ed, darting past his lips, tasting him. Stede has no idea what he’s doing, but whatever it is sends a jolt of pleasure straight through him. If he’s not careful, Ed will feel how hard he’s gotten just from this single kiss.
He pulls away, though it takes all his strength. His forehead leans hot and sweaty against Ed’s. They pant together, sharing the same air. “We’re supposed to go slow,” Stede says.
“We will, we will.” Ed shifts closer, rough sackcloth rubbing along Stede’s bare legs. “I just thought—maybe I could, very slowly, put my hand on your dick?” He looks up through his lashes.
Stede wrestles with the urge to say overly loudly, enthusiastically, repeatedly yes, please. “I feel like I’m supposed to say no,” he says, though his voice wavers with the strain of it. “You said you didn’t want to rush things.”
“Yeah, because you said we went too fast before. But also—” Ed’s gaze lowers to the mattress. He traces a pattern over the sheet with a fingertip. “Look, Annie and Mary were way out of line, but they had a point about how, you know. We’ve never even touched, really.”
“True,” Stede says. He tries to sound as non judgemental about that fact as possible. If Ed hears the scrape of need in Stede’s voice, he might feel pressured to do more than he’s ready for.
Ed’s still not looking at him. He shrugs. “Don’t even know if you want to do that stuff. With someone. With me.”
Stede’s mouth falls open. Oh, he’s an idiot. Here he is, wanting so badly it’s almost scary, and Ed thinks he doesn’t feel anything at all. He chooses his next words with care. “Ed,” he says, “I want to do everything with you.”
Ed lifts his head. His eyes shine in the dark, damp and lovely. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Yes.” He wants things he can’t even name. He wants to be close to Ed, as close as he can get. Stede folds Ed’s palm between both of his, cradling it tight. “I like the idea of taking our time; it’s smart. But I didn’t mean we should come to a standstill. There’s got to be a middle ground, don’t you think? Between that and running off to China?”
Ed shifts closer on the bed, eyes keen and bright. “Right. Exactly. Middle ground.” Excitement makes his voice go high. His thigh brushes against Stede’s body, and Stede has to bite his lip to keep from crying out. He’s still mostly hard, and even that scant contact is like heaven. “We can keep it simple,” Ed is saying. Stede tries to concentrate through the cloud of pleasure. “My hand on you? Would you like that?” His voice goes into a deeper hush.
Stede is certain he would like that very much, if the mere closeness of Ed’s leg to his cock is any indication. But he wants to be honest with Ed before things go any farther. “I should tell you something first,” Stede says all in a rush. “I’ve never done that before. With someone else, I mean.” His face feels scarlet hot. He might set the whole ship on fire if he’s not careful.
Ed blinks at him. “No one?” He sounds more shocked than tickled, which is a good thing. Stede’s not in the mood to be mocked. “But…your wife? She had to’ve—” He makes a gesture with his free hand, stroking an invisible shaft up and down. “At some point.”
Stede looks down, shakes his head. “Mary and I didn’t enjoy those kinds of things with each other. We barely touched, except to have the kids. Once that was done, that was it.” He looks back up to gauge Ed’s reaction.
A lifetime’s worth of calculations flashes over Ed’s face. “And the youngest is—how old?”
“Gosh, six? I think?” Probably should know that more solidly, but Stede’s struggling to remember how to breathe. Birth dates are a bit beyond.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Ed says. His eyes stare huge and dark at Stede. “So you’re telling me you’ve never had good sex? Or even decent sex? And not any sex for the last six years?”
Stede winces. It sounds even more pathetic laid out like that. “Yes?” he says. Ed looks so horrified, he hastens to add, “I’ve used my own hand, if that helps at all. Does it? Help?”
“Hold on, I’m still trying to process.” Ed’s clever eyes go unfocused, staring into space. “You don’t know what you’re missing,” he says, almost to himself. “Not even a little.”
Stede nods, gives a brave smile that hides his sadness, and starts to pull his hand away from Ed’s. It doesn’t feel right to be holding it while disappointing Ed so thoroughly.
But Ed doesn’t let him go. His warm, rough hand grasps Stede’s more firmly, drawing their joined fingers to Ed’s chest. Stede can feel his heart pounding through the sackcloth. Their eyes find each other again.
“It’s a lot of pressure,” Ed says, quiet, “but I can handle it.”
“Handle…?” Stede isn’t sure what that means. It sounds promising, though.
Ed brushes his lips across Stede’s knuckles. “I want to be good for you. I want you to like it.”
Stede melts. “I know I will. Even this is good.” He squeezes Ed’s hand between his. “You're good.”
Ed gives him that secret, vulnerable smile, the one that’s a little unsure around the edges. Stede can’t imagine not kissing him, so he does. Sweetly, lingering only for a moment. Then he says, right against Ed’s warm lips, “Still don’t know what the hell a tickle is, though.”
That gets a giggle out of Ed, and Stede joins him in laughing, because it is funny. He’s a grown man—not a young one either—and, for the first time in his life, someone’s going to touch his cock on purpose. And it’s someone he wants, someone who wants him. It’s actually hilarious.
Once the titters die down, Ed nudges him with his leg. “Want to lie back?”
“Oh. Yes.” Stede shuffles until he’s lying flat with Ed looming at his side, looking ethereal and fond in the moonlight. Their hands part, and Stede’s not sure what to do with his. They rest limply on his belly. “How’s this?”
Ed smiles at him and pinches the edge of the blankets between his thumbs and forefingers, peeling them down to expose Stede to the night air. The red shirt covers Stede from chest to mid-thigh. He glances down the length of his body to see the telltale bulge of his still-interested cock under the silky fabric. It looks rude, and he wonders if he should cover himself with his hands, but then he sees the look of naked desire on Ed’s face as he catches sight of it too.
Ed licks his lips and tears his gaze back to Stede’s. “We can take this bit slow, too,” he says. His cat bell jangles softly again and again. Stede realizes it’s following the rhythm of Ed’s rapid breathing.
This gives him a much-needed shot of confidence. “Not too slow, I hope.” He grins up at Ed.
Ed huffs a laugh and raps on the panel set into the wall at the head of the bed. A hidden compartment pops open, revealing Stede’s secret (or so he’d thought) stash of slick. He inhales sharply at Ed’s knowing yet apologetic look; all those months Ed had been captaining the Revenge alone, he must have found all of Stede’s hiding spots. The thought that he might have stroked himself off with the same silky ointment Stede had used is—a very enticing one.
Stede’s cock gives a twitch. A dark spot blooms on the red fabric.
Ed selects a glass vial with practiced ease. “I need you to talk to me while I’m touching you, all right? Faster, slower, harder, softer—you have to tell me what you like,” he says. He takes hold of Stede’s hem and drags it up, slow, so slow, the fine weave catching on the hairs on his thighs.
“All right,” Stede chokes out. “A-and you’ll tell me what you like as well?”
“Think we should just focus on you tonight, Stede,” Ed says. There’s an edge of regret to his voice that Stede can’t ignore. “I can be patient.”
“Yes, okay, but—I’d still like to know.” Stede’s breath catches as Ed pulls his shirt over the sensitive head of his cock. He’s bare from the waist down now and fully hard. His cock is so flushed, it’s nearly a match for his shirt.
“Look at you. Pretty,” Ed whispers. He swallows hard, looking back at Stede’s face. “This is about you, okay? Not me.”
Stede takes a shuddering breath. “You want to know what I like?” he says in his best imperious, take-charge voice, which is a real feat considering he’s about to turn into a puddle of jelly. He leans up on his elbows so he can reach Ed’s mouth, kissing him with all the passion he possesses and none of the dexterity. His hand rests at the hollow of Ed’s throat, where the tight cat collar encircles it. When they finally part, breathing hard, Stede says, “I’d like to hear what you’re thinking and what you want, even if it’s just a fleeting idea. Even if it’s weird. God, especially that.” He licks his lips. “Some day, we’ll be ready for more. And it’ll be about us both.”
The words fall into the dark, warm space between them. Ed groans and shoves Stede’s shirt over his head, tossing it aside, baring all of him to his gaze. Stede feels exposed, but with a sense of freedom hand-in-hand with soft-bellied vulnerability.
“All right,” Ed says, eyes dancing along Stede’s trunk, his long legs, his aching cock. “What am I thinking? I’m thinking you’re gorgeous. Thinking how lucky I am, that I get to touch you. Can I—?”
“Please.”
Ed’s fingers, slick with ointment, reach for Stede’s cock. He feels out the shape of it, wraps his hand around it, gives it an experimental stroke. His eyes flick between the sight of Stede’s cockhead disappearing into his fist and Stede’s face.
“Good?” he asks. He sounds worried.
Stede wants to reassure him that it’s very, very good, but his mouth isn’t functioning. It hangs open, hot pants coming fast as Stede’s pleasure overwhelms him. “Yes,” he manages to say, because Ed’s hand has stopped and he would do anything to have it start again. “Yes, keep going.”
Ed smooths his hand up and down Stede’s shaft, murmuring into his ear: “You really want to know what I’m thinking? Because it’s pretty filthy.”
Stede puts a hand on Ed’s rough-clad thigh and digs his fingers into the meat of him. It’s to ground himself, and also Ed. “Tell me.”
Ed’s hand glides up and down his cock. His breath is a sigh against Stede’s neck. “I’d like to get this dick of yours in my mouth sometime. ‘s so fucking pretty. Look.” He gentles the foreskin to the base of Stede’s cock and gives the bright red head a rub of his thumb. It goes pearly with wetness at the attention. “Thinking it’s criminal that you’ve never had your cock sucked. Like, never? Seriously?”
“Seriously,” Stede says, and it comes out all frayed.
“’s a shame. Made for it. I’d like to. Bet it’d feel nice in my throat.” Ed’s voice is a beautiful, black sound.
Stede bites down on a whine. They’re so close like this, Ed right up against his side, his hand working over Stede’s cock. Ed’s hardness presses against Stede’s hip, not insistent but definitely present.
“I’d like that,” Stede whispers. “I’d like to do that for you, too. But you’ll have to teach me.” A bubble of hysterical laughter forms in his chest. “Might need several demonstrations before it sinks in. Not sure how much I’ll be able to retain, but I’ll do my best.”
“Oh, I’ll demonstrate as many times as it takes,” Ed purrs. The bell on his collar picks up speed, matching the movements of his hand and arm. Ting-ting-ting-ting. “Could keep me here in your cabin. Put me on my knees, leash me to the floor. Fuck my face whenever you feel like it.”
“Ed!” Stede’s spine twists into a shape it’s never made before, his whole body jolting.
Ed’s hand stops. “Too much?” he asks, his voice high again. “Shit, it’s too much. I can’t be saying everything that comes into my head.”
“Yes, you bloody well can.” Stede releases his grip on Ed’s thigh and grabs whatever’s closest at hand, which turns out to be Ed’s bell. He wraps his hand around it and tugs Ed closer so that they’re nose-to-nose. “Tell me everything, Edward.”
Ed’s eyes are even more huge like this, as dark and sparkling as the night sky. Stede’s not sure what’s possessed him to manhandle Ed in this fashion, but from the gleam in Ed’s eye, he thinks it was the right move.
“Okay.” Ed smiles, not a tentative one, but a serene, almost cocky one. His hand slides down Stede’s twitching cock to cup his bollocks. “You feel so good. Fuck, I can’t believe how good you feel. Dribbling all over my hand while I tell you all this.” His fingertips dance along the underside of Stede’s sack, almost like Ed’s scratching a pet under its chin. Stede laughs and squirms against him. Oh, so that’s a tickle.
He’s still got a grip on Ed’s bell, and all his flopping about pulls at it. Ed gasps as he’s tugged, a sharp inhale that sounds like a gunshot.
“Sorry, I didn’t—” Stede lets go of the bell as if the metal is white-hot.
“No, it’s fine. It’s actually…” Ed looks torn, but then he takes his free hand and holds Stede’s in it. Guides it back to his neck. “I think I like it.”
“Oh?” If Ed likes it, then Stede wants to try it. He slips two fingers, fore- and middle, under the braided leather strap of Ed’s collar. He can hear Ed take a deep breath, can feel the manic beat of his pulse under his skin. “This okay?”
“Yeah.” Ed gives Stede’s bollocks a gentle squeeze before returning to his cock, wrapping it in his tight fist. “Yeah, you just—pull me wherever you want me, Stede.” His gaze flickers down to Stede’s chest. Stede can barely suppress his grin. Not very subtle, his Ed.
“Come here,” Stede murmurs. He tugs at Ed’s collar. Ed lowers his head and licks right across Stede’s nipple. Stede shakes with the twin sensations: his dick being stroked, his chest wet with Ed’s saliva. “Oh god. Ed—”
“Wanted this so bad,” Ed confesses unashamedly, switching to the other nipple. He suckles it into his mouth, lips tight around the hard nub. “Kind of a thing. Want to taste every bit of you, actually.” He licks and kisses at Stede’s heaving chest. “Maybe someday you’ll let me put my mouth between your legs. Eat you out until you come. Bet your hole’s just as pretty as the rest.” His hand quickens on Stede’s cock.
“Ed, I’m—” He’s not going to last. It feels too good. Stede jerks Ed up by the collar, kissing him with fumbling desperation. He wants to feel Ed’s lips on his as it happens. He wants to feel as much of Ed as he can. His other hand digs into the wealth of Ed’s hair at the back of his head, keeping him exactly where Stede wants him.
Ed whimpers against his tongue. Stede can feel Ed’s desire to make Stede come as fiercely as he can feel his own. And he knows, without a doubt, that he’ll do any number of things to make Ed whimper like that again.
The orgasm hits him like a bullet. Stede’s mouth falls open with the force of it, his toes curling in the bunched-up bedsheets. Stabs of pleasure go straight to his cock: three, four, five—six spills over Ed’s fingers. He makes a broken noise that’s equal parts amazement and delirious gratitude. Nothing has ever felt as wonderful as this.
Ed’s forehead rests on his shaking shoulder, his voice sounding far away in Stede’s ringing ears. There you are. I’ve got you. That’s it. Feels good, doesn’t it?
It feels better than good. New words should be invented to describe how good it is. He collapses against Ed, trusting him to take the weight. His fingers, still hooked into Ed’s collar, grow too heavy to hold on. They slip free, and Ed mewls like he’s lost something precious. Stede pets at the ends of his hair in consolation, clumsy as he is.
“That,” he says once he can speak, “was much better than using my own hand.”
Ed snorts against Stede’s neck and presses a kiss to his jaw. “So you liked it?”
“I don’t understand why anyone is doing anything else,” Stede says. “What’s stopping people from doing this all day, every day?”
“Probably the huge wave of shame that comes after.” Ed picks his head up and looks at Stede, brow furrowed. “That happening to you at all?”
Stede takes stock. He’s a little embarrassed by the state he’s in—spattered with his own spend, splotchy pink all over, breathing like he’s run twenty leagues—but also a bit proud. “I don’t think so. I’m quite—happy, actually,” Stede says. “What about you?”
A smile blooms on Ed’s lips. “I’m good, mate. Really fucking good.” He lifts his seed-soaked hand and examines it in the low light. With a shrug, he sticks out his tongue and licks the mess from his knuckles.
“Oh, is that…standard?” Stede asks. It’s never occurred to him to taste his own spend, but Ed doesn’t seem to think twice.
“Eh, bit of an acquired taste. But like I said—” Ed curls his tongue between his fingers and around the web of his thumb, lapping up every drop. “—I want to taste every part of you.”
Stede smiles. He’s loose-limbed and large-hearted. Everything feels peaceful in their little curtained-off niche. Then he moves his leg and feels how hard Ed is. The desperate shape of his cock pokes through the sackcloth.
“Oh! I’ve been so selfish,” Stede says. “You haven’t—”
“Hey.” Ed’s hand covers his, resting on Stede’s warm stomach. “I’m fine. We’re going slow, remember?”
“But—”
“Plenty of time for that later.”
Stede resists the urge to pout. “All right. But for the record, I’m very much looking forward to it.”
“Yeah?” Ed smiles, shy. His bell jingles softly.
Stede hooks a finger into the collar where the leather fastens to the bell and pulls Ed closer. “When you’re done wearing this all the time,” he says right against Ed’s lips, “let’s keep it. Just in case.”
Ed bobs his head, giddy. And then they’re kissing, a languid, easy kiss, Stede’s tongue sliding beside Ed’s.
They clean up in a slapdash way, too tired to be diligent. Stede elects to remain nude, since he’s still running quite hot. He lays down on his back, Ed a warm weight next to him, then half on top of him as Ed pillows his face on Stede’s chest.
“This all right?” he mumbles into Stede’s damp chest hair.
Stede feels the tug of pleasure deep in his belly at having Ed so close. His touch, his breath, his cascade of loose hair, even the rough clothes he’s wearing—Stede wishes he could paint so that this moment might live forever. Then he remembers there will be more moments. There will be more ways to love each other. There will be more struggles, too, of course, and weirdly, he’s looking forward to those as well. Everything, he’d told Ed, and he’d meant it. He wants to share everything.
“Mm. Mmhm.” Stede’s hand buries itself in Ed’s hair. Ed gives a soft sigh against his skin. He’s already half-asleep, twitching like he said he would, making his bell chime. Stede closes his eyes and breathes in the smell of him. “This is perfect.”