Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Ed had butterflies. Not the ordinary kind, but what he imagined a teenager might feel on prom night while dancing with the person they’ve been crushing on since eighth grade. He swung open the door to his and Stede’s favorite pub, The Revenge, and wasn’t surprised to see that Stede was already there. Stede was always early. If Stede arrived somewhere on time, he was as frazzled as if he had run in twenty minutes late, rain-drenched and out of breath. 

The Revenge was mostly empty and relatively quiet; it usually was at this time, which is why it was the favorite pub of two middle-aged men who liked to grab a drink and have a chat right after work. Its location, just a few blocks from Ed’s record store and Stede’s office at the university, was nothing to complain about, either.

Stede’s text, sent mid-morning, had been the sole focus of Ed’s day up to this point: Looking forward to this evening. There’s something important I want to ask you.

Ed had been stupid-in-love with Stede since they met several years ago at a party with mutual friends, but Ed - the king of propositions and flirting and casual hookups - had never said a word to Stede about it. For one thing, he had learned from his friend, Fang, on the night he’d met Stede, that the awkward but endearing history professor with the dazzling smile and the charming blond curls (all Ed’s descriptors, not Fang’s) had never seemed interested in dating anyone since his recent divorce - his recent divorce from a woman. And Ed didn’t try anything, his certainty that his crush would go away gradually fading into the realization that it was way more serious than a crush and that his friendship with Stede was something he would never dare risk.

He smoothed his hands over his leather pants and slid into a chair across from Stede. “Long one?” he asked, motioning to Roach, the bartender, for his usual.

“No one showed up during office hours, so I had to work on my book,” Stede replied, his voice conveying his distinct lack of enthusiasm.

Ed grinned. “What happened to, ‘Edward, this matelotage practice among pirates is the most fascinating, wonderful thing’?”

“It was - it is! Academic writing is just a slog.” Stede sipped his brandy and brightened. “Introduce anyone to some good music today?”

“College kid came in wearing a Lord of the Rings shirt, and I handed him Led Zeppelin IV.”

“Spreading the gospel,” Stede smiled.

“I do what I can. Thanks, man,” he said to Roach, who set down his beer and nodded in acknowledgment. “So… You said there was something we need to talk about?” Super casual, very chill, whatever. He was glad he had trimmed his beard this morning.

Even in the pub’s dim lighting, Ed could see the rising flush in Stede’s face. “Yes, I…” Stede cleared his throat. “The thing is…”

“Go on,” Ed said softly, every cell in his body wanting to lean across the table and kiss Stede senseless.

“Ed, I… I don’t think I want to have sex.”

Ed blinked. Had he blacked out during part of the conversation preceding this? Had a seizure or something? “Wha—um?” he said. 

“I thought I was asexual for a while after the divorce,” Stede continued, as if Ed was right there with him, narratively speaking, “and I still kind of am, in a way. But I do feel…” He paused and looked around as if to make sure there were no government spies in the vicinity. His cheeks were bright red now. “I do feel attracted to men. Well, primarily to you, really. But the idea of having sex…” He shook his head. “I don’t know if I can or want to.”

“Me?” was all Ed could muster. There was too much to process in so little time, but his brain did grab onto the fact that Stede was attracted to him, and it really sank its claws into that part. He didn’t know what his face looked like, but it must have concerned Stede, who said quickly:

“We don’t have to talk about this if you–”

“No, I want to. Keep going.” He wanted to lay a hand on Stede’s, but he hadn’t heard enough to know if that would be appropriate. Or maybe it was appropriate as a friend? In any case… “Please,” he urged.

“I imagine myself kissing people - you - and the idea is wonderful.” 

“Stede,” Ed breathed, so quietly that he wasn’t sure Stede even heard it.

“I read these books, the romances you’re always teasing me about, and I find the love scenes very…”

“Arousing?”

“Yes, I suppose that’s the correct word. And I like imagining the characters… doing that… like romantic ideals in my head, without all the…” He wrinkled his nose in distaste, one of Ed’s favorite expressions of his. “Mess and sweat and horrible noises and… and fluids… The things bodies do.”

Ed was fucking fascinated. Stede seemed to be pausing for input, and Ed was dying to know, so he asked, “What about your own body? Do you masturbate?”

“Yes,” Stede whispered.

“Well, asexuality is a spectrum, right? I think some aces do feel arousal and like to masturbate.”

“I actually found a word for what I am. It is under the ace umbrella. Have you heard of aegosexuality?”

“Sounds like you want to fuck frozen waffles,” Ed grinned.

“Edward,” Stede said in his adorably sexy, stern professor voice. “I would hope you know me well enough to know that I’d only fuck a fresh, made-from-scratch Belgian waffle.”

Ed laughed. “Okay, so you said…?”

“A - E - G - O. It’s like a plus ego . A for without, and ego for self. Without self.”

“Your sexuality is… sex without yourself?”

“Well… basically, yes. I like the idea of sex, and I like imagining other people doing it. But I don’t think… I actually don’t really know what things I might like to do myself. If any.” Stede’s tongue darted out to wet his lips, a reflexive, unconscious movement that always made Ed want things. “That’s where you come in. If you want.”

Ed had been so caught up in his curiosity about this new facet of the man he loved, he had completely forgotten that this talk involved him in some way. That Stede was attracted to him. That Stede had something important to ask him. He swallowed. “Keep talking.”

“Well, you have sex. A lot.”

“I do,” Ed smiled.

“Always casual, always one night stands, no strings attached, right?”

Oh no. Ed could see where this was going, and he didn’t like it. “Right,” he confirmed.

“I thought, maybe you could help me figure some things out? I trust you more than anyone else. I’m comfortable with you. We could laugh about it. I think you’re… well, you know how beautiful you are. Aesthetically speaking. And no one would get hurt.”

Part of him wanted to leap at the chance to kiss and hold Stede, to explore with him, to help him discover all the ways he could feel pleasure. And if the only person getting hurt was Ed, wasn’t that Ed’s own business? But Stede trusted him. Listed that before any of his other reasons for wanting this.

Right. Honesty was the only way to go here.

“Before I agree to this,” Ed replied, taking his time with his words, “you need to know that it wouldn’t be a casual thing for me. Stede, I…” He exhaled a short, nervous laugh. “I’m in love with you. Have been for fuckin’ years. So I can only do this if it’s part of a real attempt at… something. If this has to be an uncomplicated, no strings deal for you, then I’m not the person to ask.” 

Ed had kept his eyes focused on his beer bottle throughout this admission, and when he finally dared to look up at Stede again, he found his friend’s hazel eyes swimming with tears. 

“You love me?” Stede said, reaching across to peel Ed’s fingers from the bottle and hold them in his. Ed squeezed Stede’s fingers and nodded. “Edward, I didn’t even think it was possible. I’m so… and you’re… You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. And you seem to love sex. Why would you… I almost feel like it would be wrong to…”

“Listen up, Dr. Bonnet. I think you’re handsome and adorable as fuck. You make me laugh. I’m never bored when I’m with you. And yeah, sex is fun. It feels great. But you could take my last ten hookups and put them all together, and it wouldn’t turn me on as much as just the idea of kissing you.”

“But would you still feel that way in a year? Don’t you have… well, needs? I couldn’t bear the thought of taking something away from you just because something in me is broken.”

“One, you are not broken. Two, we don’t even know what you like or don’t like yet. Three, doesn’t this deserve a try just like any other relationship that may or may not work?”

“But our friendship…” 

Ed grinned. “If it turns out I have a desperate need to fuck that overpowers my love for you, I will still be your friend.”

“Ed,” Stede laughed.

“I want this, Stede,” he said, smiling but more serious than he’d ever been. “And I think you do, too.”

“Yeah,” Stede whispered after a moment in which Ed felt like his heart was on the chopping block.

“Yes?”

Stede nodded. “I think so.”

“Yes? Yes!” Ed repeated, part confirmation, part pure elation. He clasped Stede’s hand in both of his. “Come to my place tonight. I’ll cook. Then I want to kiss you until I run out of air.”

“What if I run out of air first?”

“I guess you’ll die?”

Stede pretended to consider this, then shrugged as if it were perfectly reasonable. “Fine. 7:00 okay?”

Ed brought Stede’s captured hand to his lips, kissed his knuckles, and ran out of the pub without paying. Didn’t matter, he figured. He had a tab.

Chapter Text

As Ed had expected, Stede arrived early. Stede had been to his apartment many times, but Ed marked the significance of this visit by cupping his friend’s jaw and kissing his cheek. “Hi,” he said into Stede’s soft, flushed skin, and relished the other man’s sharp intake of breath. Straightening, he added, “I tossed a simple Greek salad. Hope that’s okay.”

“That sounds perfect, actually,” Stede smiled. To Ed’s delight, Stede reached for his hand and squeezed it. “I’m really happy,” he said. “Nervous and a little afraid, but really, really happy.”

Holy fuck, did Ed adore this man. “Me, too,” was all he could manage to reply.

“You?” Stede asked as Ed, still holding his hand, led him into the kitchen. “You’re nervous?”

“Nervous, a little afraid, and really, really happy, wasn’t it?” Ed winked as he served the salad. “Wine?” he asked, holding up a Sauvignon Blanc.

Stede only nodded and watched in silence as Ed poured. They settled across from each other at the kitchen island, as they always did at Ed’s - when they weren’t eating on the couch, anyway - and Ed held up his wine glass.

“Cheers,” said Stede, tapping their glasses. Then Ed watched him spear an olive and sigh happily. “Heavens, do I love olives!”

“And these are the ones we found at that little grocery in–”

“Yes!”

Ed wasn’t sure if his open affection showed any differently on his face, but it definitely felt good not to have to worry about hiding it anymore. Stede hadn’t changed from his crisp, finely-tailored work suit, though he had left his tie at home and unbuttoned his shirt collar. He looked positively edible, and Ed reminded himself that the evening would call for small tastes at Stede’s pace. Savoring sips instead of chugging straight from the bottle.

“Why are you afraid? Or even nervous?” Stede asked.

Ed smiled. “Why are you?”

“Do I really need to list all the reasons? I’ve never done this before, I don’t know if I’ll like it, I don’t want to embarrass myself in front of… well…” He gestured at Ed. “A sex expert who looks like a model… Should I keep going? Anyway, I asked first.”

Ed set down his fork and leaned forward on his arms, making sure that Stede’s eyes were on his. “I’m nervous because I’ve never done this with you, either. Never with someone I love. I do know that I’ll like it - I’ll think it’s fucking fantastic - but I’m afraid that I won’t live up to what you imagine because I’m not a sex expert, and I can’t magically make you love sex. But it’s… It’s a happy, very excited kind of nervous. Feels good.”

Stede’s answering smile was one of his sunshiney ones that lit up his whole face. 

They each took a few more bites in one of their usual comfortable silences - Ed always luxuriated in those companionable silences with Stede - before Stede said, “Can we, um…?” He nodded his head towards the living room. 

“Yeah, man. Just leave the plates. Hardly anything to clean up. I’ll do it later.”

He smiled as Stede picked out one more olive with his fingers and popped it in his mouth, then they brought their glasses over to the couch.

On any other night, they would plop down easily, continue their conversation, or search for something to watch until they got overwhelmed with choices and turned the TV off. Tonight, Ed hesitated. He could sense that Stede was doing the same. He made the quick decision to sit first and allow Stede to place himself as near or as far as he wanted. To his delight, Stede sat close and slid his hand into Ed’s.

“Is this okay?” Stede asked.

“This is wonderful.” Even that, to Ed, felt like an understatement.

Stede set his wine glass on the coffee table. “What should we do first?”

Ed huffed a quiet laugh. “We don’t have a checklist or a scorecard, love. Just be with me, okay?”

Stede nodded. His eyes fell to Ed’s lips, and as he leaned forward, Ed met him halfway. Their lips met softly but eagerly, and Ed’s heart pounded at the quiet, pleased sound that Stede hummed against his lips. He kissed Stede’s upper lip, then took the lower lip between his own and sucked just a little. Stede’s lips parted, and Ed felt tentative fingertips on his beard, prompting him to lick into Stede’s mouth, a quick taste of wine and olives before he retreated.

Their foreheads met, noses touching, and Stede said, “This is all I want to do forever.”

“Fine with me,” Ed replied, fitting their mouths together for more.

Stede’s tongue slid along Ed’s bottom lip, and Ed invited him in with a soft caress of his own tongue. Stede’s fingers had moved from Ed’s beard to rest on his chest, curling into his shirt.

“Can I–?” Stede asked, his mouth still against Ed’s, and Ed nodded without even knowing what Stede wanted. Whatever Stede wanted, the answer was yes.

He didn’t expect Stede to climb into his lap, but he had absolutely zero complaints with that development. Then his face was being cupped in Stede’s hands, and Stede’s mouth opened hungrily over his, and his arms wrapped around Stede, and he was starting to forget his own name.

“Ed–” 

That’s it. Ed Something was his name.

Stede drew back slightly, panting, lips red and shining, skin flushed down to his neck and below his collar. 

“You okay?” Ed asked. He smoothed a thumb over Stede’s pink cheek.

Stede nodded. “I wanted to see if you’re okay.” He looked down between them, where Ed was obviously hard as a rock. “I don’t want to, um… I know it’s not pleasant to…”

Ed stroked a wayward gold curl behind Stede’s ear. “You’re sweet,” he said, “but I’m okay as long as you are. If I need a minute, I’ll tell you. Same for you, yeah?”

“I’m just sorry I can’t do more for you.”

“Hey.” Now it was Ed holding Stede’s face in his hands. “It’s impossible to do more than giving someone everything they’ve wanted. I mean it, Stede. And I’ll say it as often as I have to until you believe it. Until you’re sick of me saying it.”

“Can I take your shirt off?” 

A deflection, sure, but Ed would allow it. “Yes. And while we’re at it, I give you blanket permission to do whatever you want to me. Unless it’s, like, stabbing or choking. And even then, I might be into it.”

He grinned, and Stede laughed, reaching down for the edge of Ed’s shirt to lift it over his head. Ed raised his arms to help and watched fondly as Stede laid the shirt over the back of the sofa instead of tossing it aside.

“Oh, fuck me,” Stede breathed, eyes wide.

“Thought you didn’t want that.”

Stede laughed again and pushed against Ed’s chest. Then he traced his fingers over some of Ed’s tattoos. Ed watched him, happy to let him explore in silence. Stede’s fingers followed one inked line over a nipple, and Ed sucked in a breath.

“Sorry,” Stede said quickly.

“No. Felt good.”

“Oh.” He did it again, with one fingertip this time, more lightly. He lifted his gaze to meet Ed’s. “You can take off my shirt. If you want.”

Ed drew him in for a brief, soft kiss. “Do you want?”

“I do.”

“I never want to do anything unless you want it. Yeah?”

Stede nodded, and Ed, swallowing hard, began unbuttoning him. He helped Stede shrug off the shirt and watched again as Stede draped it over the back of the couch. “This too?” Ed asked, indicating the sleeve of Stede’s undershirt. He wasn’t going to assume anything with Stede. This was too important, and the weight of his friend’s trust was too heavy.

“Please,” Stede said, a whisper.

Stede’s undershirt now beside them, forgotten, Ed ran his palms over Stede’s solid, warm chest and leaned forward to kiss him. 

“So this is what you hide under all those crisp shirts,” Ed teased, his voice a low rumble. 

Stede’s mouth tipped into a wry smile. “Hide is a good word for it.”

“Fuck off.” Ed brushed his thumb over one of Stede’s pink nipples but couldn’t gauge his response. “Does that feel good?” he asked.

“Not like it’s supposed to,” Stede replied after a moment’s thought.

“It’s not supposed to feel anything. Some people are sensitive there, and some aren’t.” He hesitated. “Can I kiss it?”

“Yeah – yes.”

Ed ducked his head and took the small bud into his mouth, tasting it with his tongue, sucking it a little between his lips. 

“Oh, I like that,” Stede sighed. 

“Yeah?”

“It’s more that I like… watching you do it. You seem to like it, and that feels good.”

Ed kissed him again, their tongues dancing lazily. He stroked his hands over Stede’s shoulders and back while Stede’s hands explored Ed’s chest, neck, and beard. One hand slid into Ed’s hair, gripping the curls, and Ed made a sound that he could only admit was a whimper.

He rested his forehead against Stede’s and exhaled slowly. “I’m going to step out for a minute and take care of this situation…” He bumped his pelvis up into Stede and chuckled. “I’ll be right back for more, okay?”

“No,” Stede said, taking Ed’s wrist.

“Hey, we can also stop for tonight,” Ed assured him quickly. “It’s been a lot. We still have that new episode of What We Do in the Shadows to watch.”

“No, I mean…” Stede licked his kiss-swollen lips. He dropped his eyes to Ed’s chest. “You don’t have to step out.”

Ed exhaled and swallowed. “Tell me what you want.” His voice sounded wrecked. 

After a quiet moment, Stede said evenly, “I want to watch you. Can I stay here, close to you like this?”

“Fuck, Stede, you could ask to run a bulldozer over me right now, and I’d say yes.” They laughed as Ed reached between them to unbuckle his belt and unfasten his pants. “Back up just a little,” he prompted, then paused. “Tell me if you need me to stop, okay?”

Stede’s fingers slid gently down Ed’s throat. “I don’t want you to stop. If I need to go, I’ll get up and leave and come back when you’re done. I promise.” Ed nodded and eased his pants and boxers down enough to free himself. He looked at Stede, whose eyes, surprisingly, were on Ed’s face. “There you go, Edward,” Stede said in a voice that was somehow both soothing and authoritative, and Ed was happy to be ruined for anyone else.

Ed decided that he’d never had better sex with anyone else than he did jerking himself while Stede said things like, “So good, Ed,” “You’re so beautiful like this,” and “Are you going to come for me?”

Yes. Yes, he was going to come for him. Pretty fucking hard.

And that was before Stede laid his hand over Ed’s and asked, “Can I…?”

“Fuck, yes,” Ed panted. “Please. Please.” Almost as soon as Stede’s hand replaced his, Ed gripped Stede’s shoulder and gasped, “Stede, I’m gonna–”

To his surprise, Stede stroked him through it and didn’t seem bothered by the mess on his hand. He simply took his discarded undershirt and used it to clean himself and Ed’s chest.

Ed, breathless and sated, smiled up at him. “Thought you didn’t like…” He curled his lip and scrunched his nose. “... Fluids.”

Stede leaned against him, both hands sliding up into his hair, and kissed him. “Yours aren’t so bad,” he smiled. “As long as I have a way to clean up right afterwards.”

“Madman,” Ed mumbled against Stede’s mouth. “I fucking love you.”

They carried on kissing and touching and murmuring sweet things for some time until Stede pulled back slowly, his face happy and adoring. “Gonna visit the bathroom for a sec,” he said, nodding down to his lap, where Ed could see that he was hard. Seeing the question on Ed’s face, he added, blushing, “From watching you.”

Ed let him go without saying anything. Stede had already surprised him tonight, and he knew that Stede wasn’t ready for that step. Maybe he wouldn’t ever be. Sex without himself, right? Neither of them knew yet what that meant, exactly, for Stede, but Ed was already having a terrific time finding out. He set his pants to rights and moved Stede’s soiled undershirt out of their way.

He heard the bathroom sink running, and then Stede returned, flushed and smiling. He tucked in against Ed, kissing him and draping an arm over him. 

“Was it a good one?” Ed grinned.

“Edward,” Stede scoffed. After a moment, quietly, begrudgingly: “Yes.”

Ed laughed and reached for the TV remote.

Chapter Text

Realizing that he had read the same paragraph in this journal article several times and still had no idea what he’d read, Stede glanced down at the clock in the lower right corner of his screen. His office hours would end in thirty minutes, and then he could join Ed at The Revenge. His face warmed as he recalled their first date, only two nights ago. 

Ed had been so careful and understanding and sweet and hot . Stede couldn’t imagine that he’d ever get tired of kissing and touching his… friend? Boyfriend? For some reason, “friend” seemed like the stronger word to him, a better reflection of what they meant to each other. “Boyfriend” sounded trivial, temporary. “Partner,” perhaps, though that sounded sterile and business-y. “Friend” conveyed the warmth, the depth of feeling, and the permanence of what he felt. Partner when talking to others, friend in his own heart because he knew what that meant. His friend, his love, his Edward.

Twenty-five minutes.

Stede was thrilled by how much he had enjoyed pleasuring Ed with his hand. If nothing else worked for him, at least he had that much. His nagging anxiety wouldn’t let him believe it was enough, no matter how much Ed tried to reassure him. His brain told him that Ed, after a time, would get frustrated and bored. That it had to happen in spite of what Ed, in his kindness and optimism, wanted to believe.

Maybe, Stede hoped, they would keep trying things, and he would discover that he didn’t mind sex. He knew there was a range of feelings among asexuals, from outright repulsion (Stede knew that wasn’t him) to neutrality to occasional enjoyment. I don’t have to be broken. I don’t want to be broken.

“You aren’t broken,” Ed had said. “You aren’t broken,” his therapist had said. But they didn’t know the loudness or the stubbornness or the cruelty of his inner voice, which sounded remarkably like his father.

He wondered if he would like putting his mouth on Ed. The idea of it did appeal, as long as he wasn’t expected to deep-throat like a porn star. 

He had never been able to put his mouth on Mary. In their unpleasant attempts to conceive their children to appease their parents, he had tried preparing her with his hands, but neither of them could bear it, much less enjoy it. They tended to prepare themselves on their own and do the necessary mechanics for a minute, and then, mercifully, they conceived quickly and easily. A handful of miserable, humiliating encounters, with two beautiful children to show for it. Stede couldn’t regret Alma and Louis, though he did wish they had been conceived in love. However they were conceived, though, they were being raised with love by parents who were also able to love each other now that they were apart and happy. They even got a great step-dad thrown in as a bonus.

Maybe they would have two step-dads.

Stede glanced at the clock. Fifteen minutes.

He had fought for a long time to convince himself that he wasn’t truly indifferent to sex. It must be decades of shame instilled by his father. Maybe he was obsessive compulsive about being clean. Surely there was a large dose of shame about his body. He and his ever-patient therapist had worked through all this. At length. No, he didn’t have obsessive compulsive disorder. Yes, he was self-conscious about his body. And, yes, his head was full of his father using anti-gay epithets, the Bonnet patriarch’s voice dripping with disgust. 

But it all came down to this in the end: Stede didn’t really want to have sex. He had rolled the asexual label around in his brain and on his tongue. In some ways, it made sense. But it never fit. How could he be asexual when he thought of sex constantly? When he watched his favorite love scenes in movies or reread his favorite steamy passages in books, and his stomach swooped deliciously? When he fantasized almost obsessively about his favorite fictional couples making love? Just the phrase making love warmed him from head to toe. The cognitive dissonance was paralyzing.

Then his wonderful, brilliant, amazing therapist had told him about aegosexuality. Some people always boasted about not caring for labels, but Stede, finding this label, felt seen and validated for the first time in his life.

Seen and validated as a broken, cold fish, his brain provided unhelpfully.

“Shut up, Nigel,” he mumbled quietly. His therapist had taught him to personify that ugly inner voice, to separate it from himself, and Stede had named it Nigel after one of his bullies in school. Nigel tormented him constantly, but Stede did get a bit of satisfaction from telling him to shut up. Sometimes he even had fun thinking of rude, vulgar things to say to Nigel. It felt like reclaiming his power.

Soon, he would be with Ed. Ed, who loved him. Who told him he was “adorable as fuck” and everything Ed wanted. Who said, “Just be with me.” Whose body responded to Stede and wanted him and came apart with pleasure at his touch. And Stede wanted to do that - to give Ed pleasure - until they were two grumpy old men playing checkers in a care home.

The interminable clock freed him at last, and Stede gathered up his jacket and briefcase and almost did a Mary Poppins-style kick on his way out the door.

He reached The Revenge before Ed did, which was almost always the case. Ed had slightly farther to walk, and he sometimes got waylaid by customers on his way out. Music nerds of every stripe, people of all genders flirting with him. Stede smiled as he waited at the bar for Roach to hand him his gin and tonic.

Drink in hand, Stede went to their usual table and sat down, so eager to see Ed that he was almost vibrating with it. He didn’t have long to wait. Their eyes locked on each other right as Ed stepped inside, and Stede pictured the animated hearts that would float all around their heads if they were in a cartoon. Ed’s black and silver hair was mostly up today, accentuating the strong, elegant line of his neck. Stede definitely wanted to devote more time to exploring that neck with his lips. 

When Ed reached the table, he leaned in and pressed his smile against Stede’s. “Hi,” he said as he smoothly folded his long, lithe limbs into a chair.

“Hi yourself,” Stede replied, reaching across the table for Ed’s hand. “You distracted me all day today. You’re going to get me fired.”

Ed’s warm brown eyes sparkled with amusement and mischief. “How did I distract you? I want details.”

There it was again - Ed flirting with Stede. Stede never expected how natural and easy it would be to incorporate flirting into their regular conversations. How natural and easy it would be to introduce a kiss to their regular meet-up. He stroked Ed’s knuckles with his thumb.

“I could just say I thought about the other night constantly. But you said you want details, so… I thought about your lips, that thing where you would suck one of my lips between yours. How your mouth tasted like my favorite olives.” He paused, but Ed showed no signs of interrupting him. “How you held me so firmly but so gently at the same time. The sounds you made…”

“Anything to drink today, Ed?” Roach asked.

Ed blinked a few times in rapid succession as his brain seemed to be rebooting. Stede folded his lips in a vain attempt to hide his grin. “N-no, nope. Maybe a water, though? And hang on.” He reached for his wallet and pulled out his debit card. “Go ahead and clear out whatever’s on my tab.”

“Was that enough detail for you?” Stede smirked when Roach left them.

“No, I don’t think that sounded like enough to get you through the whole day.”

“You have no idea how long I spent on just your lips, though.”

Ed smiled. “I spent most of the day thinking about your hands in my hair, my tongue wrapped around your nipple, and the things you said when you jerked me off.”

“Edward,” Stede breathed out with a laugh.

“And imagining you alone in my bathroom,” he added softly.

Roach returned and set a glass of water in front of Ed, along with his debit card and a receipt. “All squared up,” he said before wandering off again.

Ed chuckled as Stede reached for his water and took a gulp. Then he watched Stede’s face as he reclaimed his water, rotated the glass, and drank from the spot where Stede’s mouth had been. He licked his lips. “There we go sharing fluids again.”

Stede sipped from his gin and tonic to give his own brain a moment to reboot. “I wrote two whole pages today,” he said.

“So I didn’t distract you all day,” Ed smiled. “No, that’s great, man. Did everyone show up for seminar this morning?”

They fell into one of their regular conversations about work and life, and Stede basked in the familiarity, the comfort of it. 

“You want to come over?” he asked eventually. 

It was no different than any other time when he’d invite Ed over for TV or a movie or just talking. Except that it was different now, wasn’t it?

“Sure,” Ed replied as casually as he always did. “Wanna start Succession finally?”

It was an offhand question, but Stede received it as Ed’s assurance that actually, no, things didn’t have to be different. That Ed had no expectations. That their friendship was still the foundation of this thing. Just be with me, okay?

“I actually was hoping we could…”

When it was clear that Stede wasn’t going to finish that sentence, Ed prompted, “You were hoping we could…?”

Stede stared down at his empty glass. “I want to try putting my mouth on you.”

Ed, bless him, knew how much it had taken for Stede to say those words out loud, and he didn’t try to act coy or force him to elaborate. “Anything you want,” he said. 

Stede braved a glance back up at him, and Jesus, Ed’s eyes were softer than gooey, fresh-baked brownies. 

“I guess this is a good time to tell you that I haven’t been with anyone since Mary. No one but Mary, as you know.” He laughed awkwardly, feeling the redness in his cheeks. “And all my tests were negative.”

“I’m all clear, too. Last test was yesterday. And I’ve been on PrEP for a while.”

“You went yesterday?” Stede asked, eyes widening (and maybe tearing up a little).

This time, it was Ed reaching across the table for Stede’s hand. “Of course. Hey, there’s nothing I won’t do to keep your trust and keep you safe. I hope you know that.”

“Yes,” he said. He did know, and not even Nigel could try to tell him otherwise on this particular point.

Chapter Text

Finding himself relaxed on Stede’s couch was hardly new for Ed, but having Stede in his lap, in his arms, Stede tugging Ed’s bottom lip with his teeth, that was still new and wonderful. It had been a long and tedious day of inventory at Blackbeard’s Records, and Ed’s brain had begun powering down as soon as he double-checked the shop’s security cameras, said good night to Izzy, and locked the door. At this point, there was little more than lumpy porridge sloshing around in his head.

Ed’s Nirvana t-shirt and Stede’s turquoise button-down and undershirt were quickly discarded, and Ed removed the elastic that had been keeping his hair in its loose, messy bun. He closed his eyes as Stede leaned forward to tuck his face into Ed’s hair, his nose nuzzling the shell of Ed’s ear. Ed turned his own nose slightly into Stede’s soft, blond hair, breathing in citrus and lavender. 

His hand slid up Stede’s back, pressing him close. “You always smell so good,” he mumbled. “Could eat you up.”

Stede sat up slightly and nudged the tip of his thumb into Ed’s mouth, and Ed nipped it, trapping the round bit of flesh in his teeth. “The one getting tasted tonight is you,” Stede said with an impish grin. 

“F’huck, Stede,” Ed moaned, his tongue grazing Stede’s thumb when he said his name.

Stede freed the digit from the light grip of Ed’s teeth and ran it along Ed’s top lip, tracing its hills and valley. “How are you so beautiful?”

“Good genes?” Except for the abusive father, but whatever. Ed took after his mother anyway.

Stede tugged on Ed’s belt. “Speaking of jeans…”

Ed barked a laugh. “No, nope, we’re done, I knew this relationship wouldn’t last,” he said in mock disgust as Stede, smiling, unbuckled Ed’s belt and moved on to the button of his black jeans. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Hmmm?” Stede paused and looked up at him.

“Why’d you go in the bathroom the other night?” Ed slid the backs of his fingers down Stede’s left arm, leaving a pretty trail of goosebumps in their wake. “Not a problem, was just curious.”

“Embarrassment, maybe,” Stede replied slowly, as if considering it for the first time, which, come to think of it, he probably was. “Self-conscious to do that in front of you, I guess.”

Ed nodded. “I get that. Especially if it’s been something private and hidden all your life.”

“Yeah.”

“But I hope you can eventually not be embarrassed about it. Would be nice if it was something we could share. I want–” Don’t. Push. Him. “I’d enjoy that. And I mean that as a reassurance, not a request.”

Stede leaned in to kiss him softly. “I think I’ll get there. It feels good to imagine doing that with you.” He blushed in that sweet way that did things to Ed’s insides. “And, Edward, it’s okay to request things. I can say no if I want to.”

Ed’s breath caught. I can say no if I want to. Stede had said that so off-handedly, the trust so second-nature, so casual, so implicit. Ed cupped the other man’s face in both hands and brought him in for a hard kiss. When they parted, Stede seemed pleased but a little bemused by the sudden passion.

“It… it means a lot to me that you know that,” Ed said, and goddamn, he sounded hoarse. 

Stede rested his arms on Ed’s shoulders, his fingers playing loosely with Ed’s hair. “Ask me for something,” he murmured, rubbing their noses together. 

Ed swallowed whatever boulder had gotten lodged in his throat. “Can I touch you?” Stede’s fingers stilled in his hair. “Or maybe just see you?”

“Not sure about the touching yet. But I don’t mind if you see me.” Stede lowered his hands to his pants and fiddled with his belt. “Why don’t we both go ahead and just… get our clothes out of the way?”

“You sure about that?” Ed asked, smoothing his hands over Stede’s arms. He loved the way their brown and fair skin looked together.

Stede’s gaze fell for a moment to Ed’s lips, and then their eyes met again. “Yep.”

Stede jumped up and offered a hand to Ed, who exaggerated his old man groans as he lifted himself from the deep-cushioned sofa. They laughed and stepped close, each one’s hands falling to the other’s fastenings, laughing still as their hands got in each other’s way. Having already left their shoes at Stede’s door, they only took a minute to rid themselves of their pants, boxers, and socks.

Ed took a step back so they could really look at each other. “Fuck me sideways,” he breathed. Stede’s dick, pink and plump, lay prettily in a nest of blond curls. His thighs were lean and strong, his calves - as Ed already knew - shapely. He was slender but had a soft tummy, which Ed loved; he had never been a big fan of very defined, hard abs. He liked soft, sweet things. Fuck off.

Judging by Stede’s face, the other man was equally happy with what he saw. Ed was generally pleased with his own body. He visited the gym a few times a week and had some muscle definition in his biceps, and he was long-limbed and lithe. Like Stede, he had a soft tummy, and he liked it that way. His past lovers had always seemed to think he was hot, so it was an aspect of himself that he simply embraced.

“How do you feel?” he asked Stede, reaching out to take his hand and give it a squeeze.

Stede’s eyes, which had landed on Ed’s rather eager erection, traced slowly up Ed’s body to his face. “Inadequate, wondering what you’re doing here with me.”

The honesty touched him; the self-loathing broke his heart. 

Ed closed the small distance between them until they were chest to chest, relishing the feel of his cock against Stede’s warm skin. 

“Does Nigel need an ass-kicking?” he growled. Stede had named his dickfuck of an inner voice Nigel, and Ed took particular delight in taking Nigel down with all manner of creative and colorful language. It always made Stede laugh, and since that was Ed’s favorite activity, well…

Stede’s mouth curled up into a small smile. “Maybe. He usually does. But I think this is more about your own perfection than my… me.”

“You think I’m perfect, I think you’re perfect. Seems kinda even to me.”

“Edward–”

Ed gripped the nape of Stede’s neck and brought him in for a kiss before pressing their foreheads together. “I. Love. You. You’re beautiful and perfect and pretty and cute and everything I want.”

And Stede’s response was to wrap his hand around Ed’s cock. Do not pass Go, do not collect $200. “This okay?” he asked.

Ed couldn’t help but gasp a laugh. “Little bit more than okay, mate.” His head fell to Stede’s shoulder because 1) he couldn’t hold it up and 2) he wanted to watch. “Why don’t you want me to touch you?” he asked. “Curious, is all.” His brain was malfunctioning, growing more and more glitchy with every slick tug. “Not trying to - Stede, fuck - not trying to push it.”

He moaned a complaint when Stede stopped stroking him and put both hands on his chest instead.

“It’s too much when someone else touches me,” Stede said, his breathing just as unsteady as Ed’s. “When Mary would… Never mind, don’t want to go there. It just feels… too much. I don’t know how to explain it. It starts off fine - pleasant, even - but then it starts to feel overwhelming and painful, and I feel all these expectations about what’s supposed to happen, like there’s a train barrelling down the tracks, and I’m being forced out of my body, and…” Stede touched his temples with his fingertips and shook his head a little.

“Too much,” Ed repeated, stroking a curl back from Stede’s forehead. 

“Sometimes I can’t even make myself come. I get overstimulated, and my erection goes away.”

Ed blew out a breath. “That must be frustrating as hell.” 

“I’m kind of used to it,” Stede said with a wry smile and a half-shrug, as if that somehow made it better.

“What if the touch isn’t to arouse you or get you to orgasm, but just to feel you?” Ed waited, but Stede was quiet. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I’m pressuring you. Just forget–”

“I don’t feel pressured,” Stede rushed to assure him. “You’ve been nothing but lovely to me, my darling.” Darling! “I can tell the difference between trying to understand and pushing boundaries. Okay?” Ed nodded, and their lips met briefly. “To answer your question, I don’t know, and I’d actually like to find out.”

Ed felt his smile mirroring the one taking over Stede’s face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Go on. I want to see how it feels.”

“Aye-aye, Captain Bonnet.”

“Really, Ed?”

“Sorry. Captain Bonnet, PhD.”

Ed reached for Stede’s cock and realized that he had never touched another man’s dick for any reason besides getting him hard or jerking him off. How did one even…? He traced a fingertip down one velvety side, trying to think fast. Should he hold it, or would that be too much like…? He slid his fingers underneath to feel the weight of it without gripping it. Stede’s body tensed, and his cock stirred as the backs of Ed’s fingers grazed his balls.

“Okay?” Ed checked. “Should I stop?”

Stede breathed in deeply. “It’s okay. It’s nice.”

“Good. Feels nice in my hand, too.” Ed gave him a quick kiss. He curved his fingers up a little, still not gripping, and stroked his thumb softly over the shaft, back and forth.

“Oh,” Stede sighed. “Oh, Ed, I like that.”

Ed’s heart soared. “Yeah?”

“It’s like when someone strokes your arm with their fingers. Soft and floating and lovely.”

“I’m glad,” Ed smiled. Keeping his eyes trained on Stede’s face for any signs of discomfort, he circled the sensitive head with his thumb. Stede shut his eyes and made a little noise that could have been either happy or distressed, and his dick swelled a little more in Ed’s hand. “Still okay?” Ed asked, almost a whisper, his free hand smoothing over Stede’s hip in what he hoped was a soothing way. 

Stede’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. “A little more.” His eyes opened slowly, and he wore what Ed could only describe as a dreamy expression. “I like being in your hands. You’re so gentle with me. So good.”

“God, Stede, fuck,” Ed said, his voice breaking. 

Stede brushed Ed’s hand away from his cock and lowered himself to his knees, stroking his hands over Ed’s thighs. “My turn,” he smiled up at Ed. “I’ve been thinking about this all day.”

“Except when you wrote those two pa—ah, fuck.”

Stede worked with his lips and tongue, never taking Ed too far into his mouth, using his hands for the rest. Ed enjoyed being swallowed as much as the next dick-having person, but there was something more intimate and intense about Stede… well, making out is what it was… with the head and first couple of inches of his cock. Between Stede’s saliva and Ed’s own slickness, it was a proper, wet, hot, mind-blowing mess.

“Stede,” he warned, cradling the other man’s jaw. “I’m gonna… Where should I…”

Sliding off with a string of spit, Stede brushed the back of his hand over his mouth and reached over to pluck some tissues from the box on his coffee table, his other hand stroking and twisting. “You want to come for me so badly, don’t you?” he asked, looking up with a satisfied gleam in his eyes that really did it for Ed.

“For you, yes, yes,” Ed panted, threading his fingers into Stede’s soft, mussed hair. With a wrecked cry of Stede’s name, he did just that, all over his stomach and Stede’s hand.

After a moment to clean them up with the tissues, Stede guided Ed back down to the sofa and settled once more in his lap, circling his arms around Ed’s neck and brushing their lips together light as a feather.

“Was that good?”

Ed laughed. “Stede, you fucking lunatic.”

“Well, I know I’m not up for some of the more… invasive maneuvers, and I had to finish you with my hand, so I understand if it wasn’t as good as you’re used to.”

“As good as I’m used to? Nah. Way better.”

Stede reddened and ducked his head. “You don’t have to say that to make me feel better.”

Ed took Stede’s face in his hands. “Is Nigel calling me a liar? Because I will drag that son of a bitch outside and shove a pineapple up his ass.”

“Edward,” Stede laughed.

When the laughs subsided, Ed said, “I meant it. A hundred out of a hundred. Would recommend to friends.”

“What, you’re going to pass me around?”

“Might do. Depends how much they’re willing to pay.” They grinned at each other stupidly for a few seconds. “More importantly, how did you feel about blowing my mind, no pun intended?”

“It was like I couldn’t get enough of you.” Stede paused. “Your smell and taste and sounds… the feeling of warm silk on my lips… being so present with you. Like nothing else existed except how good I was making you feel. It felt like a drug.”

Ed wondered if a person could fill up with so much love and affection and happiness that he had a brain orgasm. Or a heart orgasm, maybe. He decided to leave that to the scientists - lots of important work being done in that area, he was sure - and make out with Stede.

Chapter Text

Ed spent the next couple of weeks feeling like his life had become a dream. He kept waiting to be rudely awakened by his phone or a police siren or a car alarm, to find that the ground was nothing more than a cloud, and that he was floating on the tips of his toes rather than walking.

This life - a blissful relationship with a historian with degrees from three different Ivy League schools - was not meant for someone who had spent most of his twenties in prison for manslaughter for killing his own father. Sure, he had gotten his life back together, but only because his mother rescued him, just as he had tried to rescue her. She had died in a car accident, leaving behind an enormous life insurance payout. It was just after his release from prison, when he was struggling to find work with a criminal record (no one cared about technicalities like abuse and self-defense), living in a shitty apartment with roaches and hot water that lasted about thirty seconds. It was his lowest point. As much as he would have preferred having her, his mother’s life insurance gave him the seed money to start his own business. And now he was well-off with Blackbeard’s Records, a grumpy but capable business partner, his own small house, and a boyfriend with a fucking PhD.

He still felt like he had snuck into a party to which he hadn’t been invited, like he would be thrown out at any minute once they finished laughing at him to his face.

For now, he enjoyed the bubble. His friendship with Stede, which had already been the brightest spot in his life, now included evenings at one or the other’s place, falling behind on their TV viewing as they made out with giddy abandon in various stages of undress. Last night, Ed hadn’t even bothered to go home. Stede had loaned him some fancy silk pajamas - overkill, fucking mental - and they had talked and laughed and kissed in Stede’s huge bed and soft, expensive sheets almost all night, legs tangled.

“You’ve got that stupid smile on your face again,” Izzy observed as he slipped past Ed to help a customer. 

“Fuck off.”

“Twat.”

Ed had never been happier.

Tonight, they were skipping drinks at The Revenge and going straight to Ed’s, ostensibly to watch Black Sails, but Ed knew that wasn’t going to happen.

He skipped his lunch hour and ducked out of work a little early, leaving Izzy to close up so he could pick up some flowers for Stede and get started preparing stuffed bell peppers for dinner. And, yes, to tidy up and throw some clothes in the wash and make his bed and jump in the shower.

Right on time - which meant ten minutes early - Stede showed up, and Ed slammed the door so he could shove Stede up against it, both of them eager and laughing.

“It smells wonderful in here,” Stede observed, shrugging off his suit jacket once Ed released him. “Wait a minute…” His eyes narrowed. “Did you make… I thought you were ordering pizza!”

“Surprise! It’s your favorite.”

There was nothing for them to do but make out some more.

Stede was in a great mood and practically glowing with it as he dove into the stuffed peppers and told Ed about his day - several pages written, lots of student engagement during his afternoon class, a squirrel that ventured so close to his bench when he sat outside for lunch. Happy Stede was even more animated than usual, and Ed mostly listened, disgustingly besotted and perfectly at peace about it.

Black Sails was, indeed, a lost cause, especially because Stede suggested that they go right to the bed. 

“You’re awfully horny for someone who isn’t very interested in sex,” Ed teased as Stede, flushed and warm and naked, stretched out beside him.

“Touch-starved is more like it,” Stede said, trying and failing to cover his pain with a smile.

Ed brushed his knuckles over Stede’s cheek. “Well, it’s my job now to fix that. C’mere.” They lay facing each other, and Ed budged up closer and draped his arm over Stede. Their cocks brushed together, both soft and docile for the time being, but Ed short-circuited for a moment because holy fucking shit. Stede seemed nonchalant, almost like he didn’t even notice, so Ed went with it. They kissed lazily, neither in any apparent hurry to do more than that. 

“I guess it seems strange to you,” Stede said as he weaved some of Ed’s long hair over and under his fingers, “that being with you like this can feel so amazing to me without being sexual.”

Ed turned it over in his mind for a second, then said slowly, “You know, I actually do understand how they feel separate to you, but kinda for the opposite reason.” He couldn’t help but smile at Stede’s bewildered expression. “I’ve had lots of sex. Mountains of it. But I’ve never done this. Never just held someone. Never been held.”

“That’s…” Stede’s eyes went wide, almost awestruck. “I thought it was yet another aspect of me that made no sense, but it makes perfect sense, doesn’t it?”

“I think it does,” Ed smiled.

“We’re both… intimacy-starved. Affection-starved.”

Ed slid one of his legs against Stede’s. “We were. I’m pretty intimacy-sated at the moment. Like that dude in Se7en with the spaghetti.”

“Jesus Christ, Edward,” Stede groaned as Ed threw back his head and laughed. “We were having a moment, and you ruined it!”

“Oh, you love me,” he managed to say through his subsiding laughter.

Before Ed could punctuate that with a sly grin, he found himself on his back, looking up at Stede. Okay, then. Ed was up for wherever this was headed. Braced with his forearms on either side of Ed’s face, Stede kissed him briefly on the lips before his mouth went wandering to Ed’s ear, throat, and collarbones. This was familiar territory to them now, though it was the first time they had done it in a bed. In a bed, naked. And Ed’s dick was definitely paying attention.

“What can I do for you?” Stede asked from the vicinity of Ed’s chest. “Maybe I could try…” 

Ed very much wanted to know where that thought was going, but he let Stede return to his mouth and distract him with more kisses for a few minutes.

“Try what?” he prompted breathlessly when Stede paused to nuzzle his ear again. Stede stilled above him, then rolled to his side and rubbed his palm absently over Ed’s chest and stomach. Ed captured the wayward hand and pressed it to his lips. “Please tell me what you were thinking.”

“Are you…” Stede suddenly seemed very interested in a spot slightly over Ed’s right shoulder. “Are you a top or a bottom?” he asked quickly, as if he had to get it out before he lost his nerve. “You know, with other… with the others?”

Ed took a steadying breath, giving both of them a moment. “I like both,” he said softly. “Kinda prefer bottom, but I like both.” He hesitated. “I didn’t think that was something you wanted to get into. So to speak.”

That won him a little smile and seemed to give Stede the courage to meet his eyes again. “I thought I could try with my fingers. If that’s something you’d like.”

Ed opened his mouth, but his brain wasn’t supplying words. He smoothed a hand over Stede’s back. “You don’t have to do that, Stede.”

“Not really your thing?” Did Stede look disappointed? Because that was… that was…

“Is this something you want to do?” Ed asked carefully. “It seems kind of intense for you.”

Stede shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t think I would like having it done to me, but I like touching you. Making you feel good.”

After a short, thoughtful silence, Ed raised his hand and combed his fingers through Stede’s hair. “It feels more than good,” he said. “Feels like Heaven and Nirvana smashed together and there’s glitter going everywhere.”

Stede’s face lit up like Ed had just handed him a puppy. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, love.” Ed lifted himself up on his elbows, kissed Stede, and reached over to his nightstand. “Gotta have Astroglide," he winked. "Oh, and I picked these up for you. In case you might ever want them. When you’re here.” He felt the blood warming his cheeks as he handed Stede a pack of antibacterial wet wipes. “Your armor in the epic battle against bodily fluids.”

“Thanks,” Stede whispered, ducking his head away.

“Stede?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you about to cry over wet wipes?”

“Shut up and give me the lube.”

Grinning with how much he adored this bizarre little man, Ed arranged his legs so that Stede could kneel between them. He watched as Stede slicked up his fingers and then paused.

“You can change your mind,” Ed assured him.

“It’s not that. I just don’t know what I’m doing. I wanted to make things easier for Mary, but she hated when I–”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he interrupted quickly. “You’re here with someone who loves you and wants you, so stay with me, okay? I’m going to help you.” Stede nodded, and Ed started guiding him in the most relaxed voice he could manage in his current state of Fuuuuuuck yeeeeees. “You’ve already got your fingers ready, so pour a little bit on me… Shit, that’s cold. You’re going to want to circle gently to start… perfect.”

He was going to suggest that Stede rub his thigh or stroke his dick as they proceeded, but Stede was a step ahead of him on that front, smoothing his palm over Ed’s thigh. “One finger at a time, I assume?” Stede asked, his voice soft and surprisingly steady. 

“Mmhmm. Theeere you go, my love. Perfect. Feels fucking amazing. You okay so far?”

Stede only nodded. His hand had stopped moving on Ed’s thigh - he seemed to be devoting all his concentration and awe elsewhere - but it no longer mattered at this point. Everything was good. Way more than good. Ed moaned his pleasure and babbled praises, and Stede looked enraptured. Was it possible to be emotionally aroused instead of sexually aroused? Because that’s where Stede appeared to be.

“A little more lube, and let’s do two,” Ed instructed. His voice caught and faded into a whimper as Stede’s second finger breached him. 

Ed had both given and received many a good railing, but this… teaching Stede how to take him apart piece by piece, the tenderness that almost ached, Stede’s face… He rolled his hips to match Stede’s rhythm, his fingers and toes digging into the sheets.

“Three?” Stede asked quietly, almost as if his voice would break some kind of spell.

“Just need two. Curl your fingers up, and you’ll hit - Fuck, Stede, yes. Keep… yes.”

“God, Ed, you’re so beautiful,” Stede said, choked, and the tears on his cheeks went right to Ed’s heart. Then Stede wrapped his hand around Ed’s cock, and Ed…

Ed was gone. He heard his own voice crying out Stede’s name, and he was floating somewhere between his body and the ceiling. When he finally managed to open his eyes and remember his name, Stede had already cleaned up his mess and was lying down, pulling Ed against his chest.

Ed reached down and traced a finger lightly over Stede’s soft cock. “All that, and you get nothing out of it,” he sighed, exhausted. That was the last thing he remembered before he fell asleep.

Chapter Text

Stede didn’t know how long he lay awake in Ed’s arms, spiraling while Ed slept.

You get nothing out of it, Ed had said. 

Stede knew - he knew - that Ed hadn’t meant that as a criticism or a complaint. That it was an offhand comment made by a man who was falling asleep and simply found something interesting. But knowing things had never stopped Stede from doubting them or over-analyzing them or questioning whether or not they would last. “You get nothing out of it” could so easily and quickly turn into “ I’m getting nothing out of it” or “this is too one-sided” or “this is just too complicated.”

You’re too much.  

You’re inadequate.

In most of the romances Stede loved to read, people praised how responsive (that was the popular word) their partners were, how they found it sexy when their lover was “so hard for me” or “so wet for me” or close to coming or whatever it might be. How a huge part of the whole experience was their partner’s sexual response.

And Stede understood that. After all, his own enjoyment of these intimate activities with Ed came from making Ed feel good. But if Stede didn’t often have sexual responses, didn’t that take away from Ed’s experience?

Stede’s brain was telling him to talk to Ed. Stede’s therapist would tell him to talk to Ed. Ed would tell him, “Talk to me.”

Ed stirred and tightened his arm around Stede’s waist, which Stede felt as his friend’s unconscious reassurance that he needed to block out Nigel, trust what he knew to be true, and let himself sleep.

Because his body and mind were nothing if not incessantly cruel, Stede found himself waking to an erection. This wasn’t unusual in itself; it happened most mornings. But he was alone on those mornings. He could ignore it, or he could masturbate quickly and make it go away, either by coming or by losing the erection. This - waking with an erection pressed to another man’s erection - this was new. 

He shifted a little, trying to move himself away from Ed, but that was a bad decision. The slide against Ed’s warm, velvety skin felt divine in the same way that Ed’s light touches had felt the other night. So different from being gripped and pushed to an orgasm that may or may not happen. It wasn’t a pleasure that would build and become too intense. It was good without needing to become more.

Stede nudged his hips closer in a small, slow movement that wouldn’t disturb Ed. A whimper escaped him, and he tensed, hoping that Ed wasn’t awake. 

But Ed was awake. Without opening his eyes, he ran his hand down Stede’s back and gently, so gently, urged him to keep moving. “You like that, baby?” he mumbled drowsily, almost slurred.

“Y-yes,” Stede admitted. Something inside him also flared at the endearment, which he wouldn't have expected to like as much as he clearly did. “I’m not going to come, but can I just…” Can I just use you? Can I just rut against you like an animal?

“Do whatever makes you feel good,” Ed said. He sounded slightly more awake now, and his hand was firm on Stede’s lower back, though not pulling or pushing.

“Are you sure?”

“Mmhmm. Feels nice, but I don’t need it to go anywhere.”

Stede slid his arm under Ed’s and held on to his shoulder. He barely had to move his hips to maintain a subtle rocking motion that brushed their cocks together, slow and soft. He was making the most embarrassing little sounds, but it was difficult to care. Well, you love his sounds, don’t you? his brain reminded him. 

“Love that my body can make you feel good,” Ed murmured.

“Keep talking to me. Please.” Stede was reaching the limit of what he could handle before this stopped being enjoyable, and he was greedy for as many of Ed’s delicious words as he could get.

“You like me talking to you while you fuck me, Stede?”

“Oh, my God,” Stede gasped.

He had never thought of himself fucking anyone or anything, and something about that word zapped around his brain, lighting up new pleasure centers like a pinball machine. A ripple of warmth and relaxation flowed through him, the closest thing to an orgasm his body could give him under the circumstances, and he let himself sink heavily into the bed and against Ed.

He tilted his head a little on the pillow so he could see Ed, and he was met with soft eyes and a hard kiss. He didn’t even realize he was crying until Ed stopped kissing him and brushed his thumbs over Stede’s cheeks.

“Hey, you okay?”

“You deserve more than this, Edward,” he wept. “I’m sorry I… I can’t be responsive and sexy. I feel like I’m stealing away parts of your happiness, like I’m–”

“Stede.” Ed pulled him closer and tucked Stede’s head under his chin. They lay quietly for several minutes as Stede calmed, and then Ed said, “I’m not sure where this is coming from, love. You’re the most responsive partner I’ve ever had.”

“I don’t even get an erection most of the time we’re together,” Stede said, tasting the bitterness in his own voice.

“So? You listen to me and touch me the way I want to be touched, and fuck, all your little sighs and moans… I’ve never been with anyone who’s as with me as you are, who gets so much genuine pleasure from… from making love to me.”

Ed hated the phrase “making love.” He had often complained to Stede that it was for uptight, repressed people who couldn’t say “fuck.” It was so prim and twee, over-romanticized, cringe-inducing - those were just some of the words Stede had heard him use in the past. For him to say it now, knowing what it meant to Stede, seemed designed to make Stede hear him.

“As for sexy,” Ed continued, “holy fuck, mate. You’re hot. You kiss like a dream. You’re adventurous about trying things. You’re good at everything you’ve done with me. And just… everything I already said about how responsive you are. I get hard almost every time you touch me or look at me a certain way. And stealing my happiness? Stede, these have been the happiest weeks of my life.” He sighed. “I wish you could see yourself the way I do.”

Stede lifted his head from its pillow on Ed’s chest and gazed down into beautiful, tender, brown eyes. “I can kind of see myself in your eyes right now,” he smiled, touching the crinkly corners of Ed’s eyes (one of Stede’s favorite things about him, probably because they were a key part of Ed’s smile) with light fingertips. “Sorry about this sudden meltdown. It's just... Last night, you said that I don’t get anything out of this. In reference to me not getting aroused by what we did.”

“I did?” Ed frowned.

“Yeah, right before you fell asleep. And I know you didn’t mean it in a bad way, but my brain took that and…” He waved his hand. “Did what it does.”

“Maybe I was amazed at how calm and collected you were after scrambling my brain and turning me inside-out,” Ed mused with a soft chuckle. “I have no idea what I was thinking, honestly. But I’m sorry it hurt you.”

“I blame Nigel more than I blame you.”

Ed drew him in for a kiss. “In case it was at all unclear, Dr. Bonnet, last night was incredible. Everything we do together is incredible. I’ve never felt so loved, I’ve never felt so good, I’ve never felt so happy. Anytime you need to be reminded, just say the word.”

Epilogue

One year later, Stede straightens the red pocket square in Ed’s tuxedo just before they enter whatever fancy university gala Stede has convinced him to attend. 

“This thing itches,” he complains.

“Hush,” Stede smiles, then arches a teasing eyebrow. “You wear fine things well.”

That was a line in the love scene Ed had been reading to Stede just a few hours ago while Stede jerked himself off. There had been words like “member” and “throb” and “manhood.” They had laughed a lot. And for the first time, Stede had given himself an orgasm while Ed watched. 

In short, Stede has just said a wicked, terrible thing, and he knows it.

Ed narrows his eyes and crowds Stede against the stair railing behind him. “You son of a bitch,” he growls right over Stede’s grinning mouth. “A move like that might not make you unfit for polite society, but some of us…” He presses his swelling cock into Stede’s hip. “If your colleagues are appalled, you have no one to blame but yourself.”

Stede scratches Ed’s beard with his fingernails. “If you put that away, I’ll take good care of you when we get home.”

Ed groans. “Stede. That does the opposite of helping. You know that, right?”

The End