Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was just like a Thursday afternoon to end with Stede locked out of his apartment. He'd never really managed to get the hang of Thursdays and this certainly wasn't endearing them to him any further. 

"Oh for heaven's sake," he snapped, trying again, futilely, to work his key into the lock. His grocery bags slid down from his shoulder to his elbow, knocking everything out of place and nearly sending his phone spinning out of his grip.

That was it. Clearly there was something wrong with the lock, and it would take hours for the HOA to arrange a locksmith to come fix it, and there was simply no way Stede was sitting around in the hallway with rapidly melting ice cream, waiting to be let into his own damn apartment. 

Thankfully, one of the things Stede always carried with him these days was a set of lockpicks, though he wasn't quite a master of them yet. He set his bags down and rifled through his backpack until he found the little case. He pulled out the necessary tools and poked them in the lock mechanism, wiggling around for an embarrassing length of time before it finally clicked and he was able to turn the whole thing.

"Ah ha!" Stede triumphantly shoved his lockpick set back into his backpack and felt his somehow open pocket knife slice through his palm. "Damn." 

Not bothering to zip up his bag, Stede held his injured hand clear and used his elbow to lever the door handle. He shoved through with his hip and shuffled him and his stuff awkwardly into the foyer. He dropped his bags by the door, and there was a thud and a crash as a table he didn't own tipped over and a vase he'd never seen before smashed on the tile floor. He looked up.

There were several things he noticed all at once. One: today, everything in the apartment branched off the foyer to the left, when previously, it had always branched to the right. Two: in addition to the surprise table, none of the furniture in the living room was Stede's. Three: there was a man in a red silk robe, with long, wavy, salt-and-pepper hair, blinking at Stede from the hallway.

"Well, fuck," Stede said.

"Uh, hello?" the man said, tilting his head to one side. "Don't think I ordered anything, but I'll be honest, I'm still nursing a fucking killer of a hangover from last night, mate, so there's a good chance I've just forgotten."

"God, no. I'm so sorry. I've just broken into your apartment instead of my own. Please excuse me."

The man stepped closer, eyes narrowing in confusion. "You meant to break into your own apartment?"

"Well, no," Stede explained. "I meant to gain access to my apartment in the normal fashion, but my key didn't fit, and I thought it was because the lock was broken, so I forced my way in, only to find, well, it's not my apartment. Which, in retrospect, explains why the key didn't work."

"Are you sure? Because I was pretty pissed last night, and I wouldn't put it past me to end up in the wrong apartment. Might be yours."

"No, no. Mine goes the other way. Which floor is this?"

"Eight."

Stede sighed and closed his eyes. "I'm on nine."

"Ah. Well, that'll do it."

"I'm so sorry. I broke your vase. I'll pay for it of course. Let me give you my number so you can contact me." Stede fumbled with his phone with his left hand, holding his right out awkwardly so it wouldn't drip blood on a stranger's carpet. 

"Awfully forward of you," the man rumbled, suddenly right up in Stede's space, his liquid gold eyes fixed on Stede's with the kind of intensity that was something that normally happened to other people. 

Stede swallowed hard. "I'm -"

"Oh, shit. What happened to your hand?" The man's whole demeanour changed. He frowned and reached for Stede's hand, sliding long, warm fingers around his wrist and cupping it gently. 

"Ah. I cut myself on a knife in my bag. Don't worry, it's just a scratch. If you just take my number, I can -"

But the man shook his head. "Absolutely not. Can't release you back into the wild with a great gash in your palm, bleeding freely. What will the neighbours think? Come on." He gently coaxed Stede towards the bathroom. "Let me patch you up."

"You really don't have to. I hurt myself breaking and entering, after all. And I'm so sorry I broke your vase."

"Course not. Can't break and enter into a friend's place." He winked. "I'm Ed. And I've always hated that vase. It was a gift."

"Stede Bonnet. I'd say it's a pleasure to meet you, but I'm not sure you'd believe me, considering the circumstances. I've always struggled a bit with Thursdays." Stede looked up as they shuffled down the hall, and he realized that both sides were with beautifully framed music paraphernalia - album covers, records, even a few shirts from gigs. And they were all for the same artist: rock megastar Blackbeard. "Wow." Stede stopped. "Some of this is really special." He leaned in to read one of the framed shirts. "How did you get all this? Do you work for Blackbeard?" Stede turned to his accidental host hopefully.

Ed opened his mouth then closed it again. He blinked a few times, staring off into the middle distance. "You know I never thought of it like that. Suppose I do."

"That's incredible. You must have seen some amazing shows."

Ed tugged him down the hall the rest of the way. "Guess so. Usually a bit busy myself, but I've certainly gotten to see some amazing parts of the world."

"Fantastic."

Ed sat Stede down on the closed toilet seat and opened a drawer. He dug around for a bit and came up with Neosporin and some bandaids. "Gimmie your hand."

Stede opened his mouth to assure Ed he could clean and dress his own wound, when Ed's fingers cupped around his hand again and Stede lost the ability to speak. It would have been deeply embarrassing to admit, in that moment, that such a small touch had such a deep effect on him, but with over a year since his divorce, Stede had learned that while it truly was for the best that he and Mary had parted ways, the thing he missed most about married life was the casual touches. 

So Stede watched, heart in his throat, as Ed turned on the tap and gently guided his palm under the stream. He felt like each of Ed's fingertips were burning a brand into his skin, like he could make out each curl and whorl against his own. Ed's fingers were long and delicate, callused at the ends, and skilled. As he turned Stede's hand under the water, Ed's thumb rubbed over the pulse point in the centre of his wrist, sending a shiver up Stede's spine.

"So what do you do, Stede Bonnet?" Ed asked, removing Stede's hand from the water.

"Oh, I'm a director," Stede said proudly. "Well." He deflated a little. "I'm a community musical theatre director."

But Ed brightened at that. "Really? I've always thought it'd be amazing to act. Love a stage."

"I love it. I'm running a bit of a second chance program right now. Got a grant from a community program that gives college credit for attending arts classes. My group is the most amazingly eclectic bunch of students, and they're all very dedicated to the show."

"I love that." Ed patted Stede's palm dry with a paper towel. "Looks like it's stopped bleeding. Let's get it wrapped up then." But just as he was reaching for the tube of Neosporin, Ed's pocket started ringing. "Fuck. Sorry." He dug his phone out and pressed it to his ear, his other hand staying loosely twined around Stede's wrist. "Yeah? Yeah, I know. It's just an interview, Iz, can't I just - Mhm. Yeah, I know. No, I will. Yes, I'll put on pants. Send the car for like -" he pulled his phone away to glance at the clock "- seven. And tell them to put apple juice or some shit in the cup. I'm still ringing like a church bell after last night's afterparty." He sighed and rolled his eyes. "Yes, I know Blackbeard drinks brandy, Izzy, but no one watching at home is going to be able to tell the difference, and if I puke on her shoes, I think - Fine. Okay. Alright. I'll see you tonight." He hung up.

Stede had never been particularly good at jigsaw puzzles, but this one had very large pieces and there weren't very many of them. The full picture snapped into place. "Are you -?"

Ed shot him a sly look. "Edward Teach, AKA Blackbeard, at your service."

"Wow. I'm - Wow. Blackbeard is putting Neosporin on my hand."

"I'll even sign your band aid if you're good." He winked again, and Stede felt it all the way down to his toes. 

"What happened to your beard?" Stede asked.

"Hmm?" Ed's hand went to his chin, only dotted with stubble. "Oh, it's not real, mate. I wear a beard wig on stage."

"Seriously? Why on earth would you do that?"

"Well, it started out real, but then it took all this care and maintenance, and it was itchy, and it'd look like shit after back-to-back shows, so I just… shaved it off. Got a speciality fake one made. Plus it means I almost never get recognized on the street. You didn't recognize me."

"No, I didn't. You look very different without it." Stede scanned him up and down, really processing for the first time that Ed was, it seemed, very, very naked under that robe. "And without the leather."

Ed laughed. "Yeah. Love the leather." He peeled the wrapper off the band-aid and smoothed it ever-so-gently over Stede's cut. "There you go, mate. Good as new."

"Thank you." Stede reluctantly reclaimed his hand. "So, uh, you have an interview…thing, tonight?"

Ed sighed with his whole body. "Yeah. I don't even remember who with, to be honest. It all starts to blur together." He leaned back against the bathroom wall. "You ever just, like, want to run away to another place where no one knows you and start all over?"

Stede gave that due consideration. "Yes? I mean, I sort of did. I moved here last year after my divorce, got a new apartment, started a new job."

"Hmm. Is it better?"

"In some ways, yes. In other ways… I'm still working on it. Life's always a work in progress, is it not?"

"I guess." Ed shrugged. "The life of an internationally renowned rock star is supposed to be so glamorous and fun and -" he waved his hand vaguely. "But it's actually so boring. Get up, get on a plane, fly to an airport, get in a car, get out at some venue, get screamed at for a few hours, get back in a car, drive to the airport… Sometimes it feels like they could dress a roadie in my wig and outfit and put him on stage with a record playing and no one would even care. Even the interviews are all the same these days. 'Blackbeard, what's this album about?' 'Blackbeard, what's your favourite food?' 'Blackbeard, sign my dog.'" He slumped against the wall. "Bloody exhausting is what it is. I don't even have time to make new music anymore. Used to be my favourite part."

"That sounds rough." Stede stood up and leaned his hip against the counter. "Have you ever thought about retirement?"

"Pff," Ed snorted. "Rock stars don't retire. They just go to rehab."

"You could, though. I mean, you have enough money to be safe, surely. And no one can force you to perform if you don't want to."

Ed fiddled with the tie on his robe. "Community theatre, huh?" he said, seemingly changing the subject. "Sounds nice."

"Well, any time you want to come be a guest lecturer for my class, my troupe would be absolutely delighted," Stede joked with a laugh. "Our current show features a lot of pieces from your contemporaries. Sort of a modern pop-rock opera kinda thing."

Ed turned serious, interested eyes on him. "Maybe I will. Would be fun. A change of pace, you know. My manager keeps trying to get me to play other people's music so I can release another album, but I got into this because I wanted to write, you know? Create. Miss that." Ed blinked down at Stede for a moment. "Hey, you want a drink?"

"Um." Stede really needed to start dinner and write a few emails, but he was never going to turn down a chance to have a drink with Blackbeard. "Sure." 

Ed tilted his head towards the living room then set off and Stede followed. Ed listed off the options for drinks and ended up grabbing two ginger beers and handing one to Stede. Stede perched in a leather chair he suspected cost more than his annual salary while Ed sprawled leggily across the loveseat, never adjusting his robe but managing not to flash more than suggestion.

There was a small chirruping noise, and Stede looked down to see a large, fluffy black cat staring up at him with bright, green eyes. It was wearing a studded collar. Meow? it asked.

"Oh, hello."

"Oh, sorry. I should have said. You're not allergic are you?"

"No, no. It's fine. I like cats." The cat in question meowed again then jumped up on the couch beside Stede, tail high in the air. Stede stroked it cautiously. He liked cats from a distance, but he wasn't entirely sure how one was supposed to handle them.

"That's Pistol, and that's Dagger." Ed pointed, and Stede followed his finger to find another cat, also black but smooth and pointy instead of fluffy, perched on a bookshelf in the corner, wide, yellow eyes fixed on Stede. "They're my guard cats."

"Guard cats?"

"Yeah. At my last place, I had a break in, so Izzy - my manager - told me I should get a guard dog, but I'm allergic to dogs. So I went to the shelter and got two cats."

Stede stared at Pistol and Pistol stared back. "Do they… do much guarding, then?"

Ed shrugged. "Not sure. Cats are very independent. They probably do it when I'm not here. Figure I've got it handled otherwise."

"Makes sense. After all, I broke in and they didn't mind."

"Exactly." Ed gestured towards Stede. "On break, you know. My shift."

"Of course." Pistol apparently decided that Stede was alright, stepping lightly into his lap and vibrating like a faulty lawn mower.

"How's your hand?"

"Much better, thank you." Stede flexed his fingers.

"Come to think of it, I have no idea how you managed to break in."

"Ah." Stede shrugged. "I have a lockpick kit in my bag."

"You have a lockpick kit in your bag. You just carry that around with you all the time, I guess. That seems normal. Is there a reason for that?"

Stede's cheeks heated. "I went through quite an extensive series of hobbies after my marriage dissolved. Took up knitting at one point. Model painting. I made ships in bottles! And I learned lockpicking. I'm not very good at it, so we probably should complain to the HOA that we need better locks installed."

Ed barked out a laugh which turned into mirthful peels that made him double over, arms around his middle. "That's fucking amazing, man. I love that. I should just - pick up a new hobby. Lockpicking… lunatic."

Stede brightened as soon as he realized Ed wasn't laughing at him. "You should. It's fun."

"Married, huh? You know, I'm forty-six, and I've never been in love," Ed mused.

"Really?"

"Really. Never had the time."

Stede thought about Mary and his heart twisted unpleasantly. "Me neither." He shook his head. "I'm afraid I haven't been in love, either. Even though I was married. For twenty-five years."

"Oh, wow. Sounds like there's a story there, mate."

Stede had never really talked to anyone about this, but something about Ed and the spicy ginger beer and the warm cat in his lap had the words tumbling out of Stede's mouth. "Mary and I met in university, a few years in. She was studying art, and I was getting a business degree in preparation for taking over my father's property management firm.

"We met at a party my housemate had dragged me to. She was sweet and very funny. I hadn't… dated much. And we both had a bit to drink, and, well, I was eager to… experience all life has to offer."

"You wanted to get fucking laid," Ed said, tipping his bottle towards Stede.

Stede laughed awkwardly. "Yes, I suppose so. Well, apparently I'm rather good at it in one very particular way because she ended up pregnant."

"Oh, shit."

"We didn't have any particular affection for one another, had never intended it to be more than one night, but both our families had certain expectations, and, well. We caved. We got married. Had a second kid…" He took a sip from his bottle.

"But now you're not?"

Stede shook his head. "We got divorced about eighteen months ago. She remarried last fall. Doug. Good guy. My kids call him dad, now."

"Wow. That's a hell of a thing, pal. Maybe we need something stronger than ginger beer."

"Nah, it's fine. I've come to terms with it. We made the right choice. She's happy now."

"And you?"

Stede opened his mouth then closed it again, taking a moment to consider. "I suppose so, yes. Content, at least. I sold my dad's company after my parents passed, and I changed careers. Moved here, and bought this apartment with the money from the sale. It's a good life."

Ed nodded. "A good life. I like that."

Stede held up his bottle. "To the good life."

"To the good life." Ed's phone chirped, and he tugged it out of his robe pocket and winced. "Oh, fuck me, it's ten to seven and it takes like an hour to put the damn pants on."

"Oh, my. How did it get so late?"

"Time flies," Ed said, with an enigmatic smile that crinkled around his eyes.

"Indeed."

"I hate to kick you out, but…" Ed pushed up to his feet.

"Oh, no, of course. I've already overstayed my welcome, I'm sure."

"Course not. Rather stay here and talk to you instead of getting all togged up and driving across town to answer a bunch of silly questions, but alas."

Stede brought his empty bottle to Ed's recycling bin then collected his bags from the front hall. "Thank you, Ed. I realize you're a super famous, international, mega-rock star, but it was genuinely lovely talking to you today. I don't really have many friends here, besides my students, so I appreciate the chat."

Ed clapped him on the shoulder. "Me too. I'm not just saying that. Life's lonelier than you might think, being a celebrity. Nice to talk to someone real." Ed seemed to hesitate for a moment, then he leaned a little closer. "Ninth floor, you said?"

"Oh, yes. Right above yours. Though mine isn't quite as well appointed and it -" he gestured "- flips the other way."

"So it's you making all that noise in the middle of the night," Ed said, eyes narrowing.

"What? Oh. Oh gosh, I'm sorry. I had no idea. I can't think -"

"Stede, I'm just messing with you, mate." Ed burst out laughing. "I've never heard a peep from you. Wouldn't mind if I did, though. If you wanted to hang out again. You could stop by." It was a distinctly surreal experience to see shyness from Blackbeard himself.

"I'd like that," Stede assured him. "I'd like that very much. You, of course, are always welcome to stop by, too. Come over for tea, perhaps?"

Ed nodded. "That'd be real nice, thanks."

There was an awkward moment where Ed held out one hand, and Stede went to shake it, and Ed kind of half drew him into a sort-of-hug but then bounced back, and they both just… stood there. Staring at each other.

"Well. Good luck at your interview. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Stede Bonnet."

Stede's head was spinning as he unpacked his groceries upstairs. He'd just met the Blackbeard. And he was… fascinating. He'd never been so drawn to someone so quickly. Though, he couldn't help but wonder if it was just because Ed was a celebrity. Surely, it was normal to feel all fluttery and pink-cheeked around an honest to god rock star?

Stede's hand came out of the grocery bag wet and sticky. His ice cream had completely melted into soup. He couldn't find it in himself to care.

Chapter Text

Stede didn't see Ed for two weeks after their first meeting, though he did catch a rerun of one of his broadcasted live shows on TV, and thrilled a little that he'd met the man who was up on that stage. He almost knocked on Ed's door a few times, even ordered extra takeout one night, planning to tell Ed he'd ordered too much by mistake and offer to share, but he couldn't quite bring himself to step out of the elevator on floor eight. He ate the same noodles for dinner four nights in a row to use them all up.

Instead, the next time he saw Ed was in the lobby of their building. Stede was coming home from work, and Ed was struggling to get two enormous suitcases into the elevator.

"Let me help you with that!" Stede trotted across the lobby and took one of the suitcases from Ed's hand.

"Stede!" Ed beamed. "Thanks."

They tucked in the elevator, and Stede only hit the eighth floor button, planning to help Ed get to his door before going up to his floor. 

"How've you been, mate? Haven't seen you around."

Stede shrugged. "Just fine. Sorry I didn't stop by. I - uh - I thought about it, but, I - uh - I didn't want to bother you…"

There was something unexpectedly sad in Ed's expression. "Yeah, no, it's fine. I've been travelling anyway. Life of a superstar." The sadness fluttered away as quickly as it had come, and Stede wondered if he'd imagined it.

Stede chuckled. "I'm sure."

The elevator chimed, and the doors slid open. Between the two of them, they wrestled everything into the hall outside Ed's door. Ed unlocked the door. "Should have just asked you to let me in," he joked. 

Stede felt his cheeks flush with heat, but it wasn't entirely from embarrassment. The way Ed teased him, joked with him… there was something about it that he'd never experienced before. Like Ed, well, like he genuinely liked Stede. Stede had never been very good at making friends or bonding with people beyond small talk. Sure, he'd been liked as a manager at his previous job, and he knew he was a good teacher now, but that wasn't the same as having people in his life who liked him for him, pure and simple. 

Seeing Ed dump both suitcases in his front hall and sigh at them gave Stede the confidence he hadn't been able to summon last week. "Do you want to come up for dinner?" he asked.

Ed turned, raising an eyebrow at him.

"I can imagine that, after travelling, your grocery situation probably isn't ideal, and I was planning on ordering burgers. I'd happily order extra, if you like." Stede stuttered on, unable to stop his tongue now that it was wagging. "I mean, I'm sure you need to see your cats, and you probably want to unpack and - well -"

"I'd love a burger," Ed said softly, his voice a low rumble. 

"Really?"

"Definitely. Just give me a minute to change and feed the beasts, yeah? I can meet you upstairs."

"Yes, excellent. I'll order. What would you like on your burger?"

"Whatever you get is fine by me. I like trying other people's favs."

"Alright."

Ed was smiling softly now. They just stared at each other for a moment, then Stede realized he had to leave so Ed could change.

"Right. Sorry. I'll go order then." He spun on his heel and bolted for the elevator. In order to avoid thinking too closely about the encounter and why it made his palms so sweaty, Stede took out his phone and clicked through the process of ordering two burgers, fries, and two milkshakes because why not? Upstairs, he flew around his apartment, hiding his dirty dishes in the dishwasher and putting the copious numbers of books on the coffee table back on the shelves. He was just checking the bathroom to make sure it had fresh soap when a soft knock came on the door. 

Stede pulled it open, and there was Ed, hair damp, in a soft, aged hoodie and faded jeans. "Hi."

"Hi. Come on in." 

Ed wandered around, admiring the differences in their apartment layouts, then settled on the couch, and Stede fussed for a while, trying to get him a drink despite the takeout on its way. When Ed grinned and said he was fine, Stede finally sat on the couch beside him, a careful seat between them. "So. Where were you travelling to?"

"France. Though, all I saw of it were airports, hotels, and tv studios, so I can't tell you if it's a nice place to visit or not."

"That's too bad. Is travelling in order to sightsee something you like to do?"

"I think so, yeah. I mean, I'd like to travel properly, you know? None of this fucking waking up in the middle of the night only to see the inside of hotels. I've seen so many fucking hotels." He sighed.

"I have this dream," Stede confessed quietly.

"Yeah?" Ed perked up.

"I have this dream where I buy a yacht and sail around the world. Just take a year off and go wherever."

"Wow, that sounds awesome, man. Just leave everything behind and fuck around on the ocean."

"Exactly."

"That'd be great. Bet there's no cell service in the middle of the Atlantic."

Stede laughed. "Yeah. Bet there's not."

A knock interrupted them, and Stede went and collected the food. He spread it out over the coffee table, and for a while, they just chatted idly about foods they liked, shoving fries in their mouths. 

"I've been asked so many times what my favourite food is, in interviews, and I say something different every time," Ed revealed, eyes twinkling impishly.

"No way."

"Mhm. Gotta find the little pleasures where you can, life on the road."

Stede laughed. "So what is it really?"

Ed shrugged. "I don't even know." He popped another fry in his mouth. "This is pretty fucking awesome, though."

"We never had take away burgers growing up," Stede said. "My parents thought it wasn't refined enough."

"Well, shit. You must have grown up fancy."

"Somewhat." Stede shrugged. "My parents certainly travelled in 'fancy' circles. Did my first cheese tasting at six."

"Damn. My old man put me in the hospital for the first time at six."

"Edward!" Stede turned wide eyes on him. "That's horrible."

Ed shrugged, sipping at his straw. "It is what it is. I left when I was sixteen, and he died a few years later. Water under the bridge." He swallowed hard.

"Really? I'd imagine that kind of thing quite stays with you." Stede reached out and patted the back of Ed's hand. "It'd be alright if it weren't quite water under the bridge, you know, Ed."

Ed looked up at him, vulnerable now, then dropped his eyes back to his half-eaten burger. "I didn't leave, actually. He kicked me out." He plucked at a piece of lettuce. "All for the best, really. I did okay for myself."

"Just because you turned out okay, doesn't mean what he did wasn't wrong. You were just a kid. You didn't deserve that."

"Thanks." Ed shot him a nervous smile. "Appreciate that."

"Hey, Ed?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you want to watch a movie?"

Ed slumped back on the couch. "Yeah, mate. Yeah, I'd really like that."

He ended up staying until well after midnight.

**

Over the next month, Ed and Stede both found reasons to pop by each other's places. Ed would knock on the door at the weirdest times and just hang out. Stede would order or make too much food and bring the extra down to Ed. 

They'd end up on the couch together, talking late into the night, or watching TV, or playing poker. It didn't take long before Stede stopped seeing the other man as Blackbeard at all and only ever saw him as Ed. The beard and the leather and the eyeliner were just a costume instead of something missing when he was off stage.

Ed opened up slowly but surely, telling Stede about his difficult childhood, about finding music, about drama amongst the members of his backing band over the years. Stede, in return, told Ed about how painful his divorce was, how scared he was that he was a bad teacher, and how he thought his kids were probably better off with their new father.

Stede was sure Ed had lots of other friends, but it wasn't long at all before Ed was Stede's best friend, the person he found it easiest to confide in. He'd look after Pistol and Dagger when Ed was playing shows, and even though Ed always bought him dinner as a thank you, it was the extra excuse to text Ed pictures of the cats that made it worthwhile to Stede. And the nights those texts turning into conversations that went well past midnight, sprawled out on Ed's couch with Pistol purring on his chest, and Ed's low, rumbling voice in his ear.

**

There was a knock, then the front door creaked open. "Stede? Mate? You in?"

"I'm in the studio!" Stede called back, and he heard Ed make his way down the hall. Stede had converted his second bedroom into a bit of a music studio, where he stored his instruments and some of the props that didn't fit in the closet at the college. He felt a bit silly showing his amateur space to someone like Blackbeard, but Ed poked his head in and smiled. "Wow. This is awesome. May I?" He pointed to an old Ovation acoustic Stede had hanging on the wall.

"Of course. Help yourself."

Ed took the guitar down and plucked out a few chords. "I have a press thing in an hour, but do you want to get pizza later?" he asked, his fingers still dancing on the strings. Idly noodling turned into the opening riff of a song of his that Stede recognized. Lost at Sea.

"I'd love to but I'm afraid I've got rehearsal tonight. Rescheduled on account of the full moon being on Tuesday and it really wouldn't be a worthwhile rehearsal without Buttons in attendance."

Ed nodded, swinging the guitar back onto its stand. "Yeah, sure. That makes sense. Too bad, though, cause I'm on a plane tomorrow afternoon, and then I won't see you for a week."

Stede's chest clenched at the thought of a whole week without Ed. It was amazing that before they met, he'd gone nearly fifty years without Ed and now a single week felt far too long. "That's too bad. I'll miss you. But I hope you have a nice trip."

Ed looked down at where he was holding his phone, twisting it around and around in his hands. "Unless…"

"Unless?"

"Well, you said I could come to rehearsal sometime, right? I could come tonight?"

"I thought you had the press thing? By the time you finish and get over to the theatre, we'll be nearly done. Not that you aren't welcome, of course."

"Maybe…" Ed slid his eyes up from the floor to meet Stede's cheekily from under his eyelashes. "Maybe I suddenly got a bit sick?"

Stede raised his eyebrows. "Unable to attend the press thing?"

"Exactly."

"Well, that'd be a shame for them…"

"True, but we'd reschedule."

Stede leaned in a little closer. "Wouldn't want to leave you at home all alone if you're unwell, though. You could take a turn for the worst."

"So true."

"Seems best if you come along to rehearsal with me then," Stede offered. "So I can keep an eye on you."

"It really does. And who knows? Maybe the fresh air will have me miraculously feeling better."

"It's a real possibility."

Ed grinned. "I'll get my coat."

Stede was thrumming with a new kind of excitement as he led Ed through the empty halls of the community theatre to the main stage where he and his cast practiced. He'd never felt this kind of joyful anticipation to share something he was passionate about before, always too tied up with the fear of being mocked to really let go and enjoy himself. But he trusted Ed to hold this piece of him as precious, as something wonderful instead of something humiliating. He knew his little troupe wasn't exactly headed for Broadway, but they were passionate, and they all loved the art, and Stede was proud of them.

Maybe proud of himself a little bit too, for building this career from nothing. And he wanted to share that with someone who was rapidly becoming one of the most important people he'd ever had in his life.

"Here we go." He pushed open the double doors and stepped into the back of the theatre. On stage, Lucius, Pete, and Roach were prepping scenery for the forest scene, and Stede could make out the backs of the rest of his troupe's heads, sitting in the front row, chatting. He shot Ed a nervous smile, but Ed wasn't looking at him, he was gazing wide-eyed at the scenery on the stage, grinning. "Alright then."

Stede led the way down the aisle, feeling Ed trailing along behind him, then he took a deep breath and did a little hop, skip, and jump up onto the stage, hoping it looked cool and no one saw his little stumble. "Good evening, everyone." He clapped his hands together. "I know you're already very excited to dive into act two today, but before we get started, I want to introduce to you a very special guest who will be observing our rehearsal today, and perhaps offering a little constructive criticism if he feels so inclined."

Stede looked over and found Ed beaming up at him now. "This is my dear friend, Ed, but you probably know him better as Blackbeard!" Stede started some applause, but the gang was too stunned to join in, turning as one, mouths open with shock, to stare at Ed.

Ed gave them all a little wave as Stede's applause tapered off, then hopped up on the stage himself, managing to make the maneuver seem much more graceful when he did it. "Hello. Stede's told me such wonderful things about you. I'm very excited to see your show. So, uh, thanks for inviting me."

"Oh my god," Lucius said, clutching his chest. "It's really you. Wow. Look, babe." He smacked Pete's arm. "Didn't you roadie for him once?"

"I can see him," Pete stage whispered, his cheeks bright red. "It was a long time ago." But Stede watched as Ed gave Pete an extra wink and a wave, unsure if he really did remember him, or if he'd overheard and was merely pretending. Either way, Pete turned even pinker but was now grinning with elation.

Wee John's hand slid up into the air.

"Yes, John?" Stede prompted.

"Why is Blackbeard here to visit us?" he asked, eyes wide with wonder.

"Because I asked and he was gracious enough to say yes," Stede replied.

"How are you friends with the Captain, then?" Frenchie asked, looking suspiciously at Blackbeard.

"The Captain?" Ed asked, turning to Stede, who flushed pink.

"Ah, yes, well, the show is about pirates, so we thought it'd be a bit of fun, that's all."

"Hmm," Ed said thoughtfully, then he muttered under his breath, "I like that."

Now the Swede had his hand up. "Are you really Blackbeard or are you an impersonator?"

"Aye," Mr. Buttons agreed. "Ye could be an imposter."

"An impersonator is not the same thing as an imposter," Lucius said, rolling his eyes.

"Actually neither!" Ed said cheerily. "Really me, Ed. Who is also Blackbeard sometimes."

Stede felt a bit desperately that things were falling apart. "I know Ed is our first visitor here, but let's try and limit how often we accuse our honoured guests of being imposters, shall we? Or impersonators, for that matter."

There were reluctant nods and grumbles, then Jim raised their hand and asked, "What's it like performing for that many people?" and Ed started to answer.

In the end, they never ran the scenes. 

Ed sat on the edge of the stage and just talked, and they all listened, hands shooting into the air to ask questions every few minutes. It wasn't exactly a rehearsal, but it felt right, like what they needed. Stede supposed that it wasn't entirely out of the ordinary to spend rehearsal time doing team-bonding, so he sat beside Ed, legs hanging off the edge of the stage, listening. 

"Do you ever get stage fright?" Oluwande asked cautiously. 

"Oh, yeah, all the time," Ed replied, despite Stede distinctly recalling a time not that long ago where Ed had told him he'd been fearless about being on stage since he was young. "Totally normal to get a little freaked out, but it makes it all the sweeter when you go out there and the crowd goes wild." 

When Ed ran out of stories and the troupe ran out of questions, the Swede tentatively raised his hand and asked if they might play a song together, and someone found Ed a guitar, and the rest of the evening was such fun that Stede's cheeks were aching from smiling and his stomach was sore from laughing. He was also confident that each of his students had learned at least one thing from their evening with Blackbeard, even if it wasn't the same thing for any two of them. Ed promised them all VIP passes to his next show, as they all packed up for the night, which set off another wave of excitement among the troupe.

Stede and Ed shared a cab back to their building. Stede watched the streetlights flicker by, trying to find a way to wrap the day up in tissue paper in his mind, like a pressed flower or a treasured shell, safe and sound should he need to take it out and admire it someday down the line. He glanced across the back seat of the car to find Ed frowning at his phone.

"Everything okay?"

Ed chuckled softly. "Yeah. Iz is just a little pisssed off, that's all." He pressed a button on the phone and the car was filled with Izzy's voice, spewing a series of curse words Stede had never heard put together so creatively before.

"Oh, dear. He's quite upset. I'm so sorry. Have I gotten you in trouble?"

"Nah, not at all." Ed shrugged. "That's just how Izzy is all the time. He's a good guy, though. He's kept me out of trouble all these years. When he says he's naming his ulcer after me, he's hoping I'll take it as an insult, but secretly, I think it's a compliment. Like if I named my potted plant Stede."

Those things really didn't seem at all related to Stede, but he supposed the glamorous life of a rock star was inevitably rather different. And the smile on Ed's face as he shook his head at Izzy's rantings was truly affectionate, so Stede set his worries aside.

Then Ed said, "Oooo," and held his phone out to Stede to show him a beautiful photograph of a three-tier cake covered in orange glaze and candied orange slices. "Look at that."

"That's incredible."

"Roach said he bakes a lot so I asked him to send me some pics. Fucking delicious looking. Kinda frustrating it's only a picture, to be honest. Now I'm hungry."

Stede laughed. "Thanks for coming today. They loved it."

Ed's smile softened and he leaned back against the headrest, eyes on Stede, twinkling the way they did sometimes. "I like your friends," he said softly, and Stede wasn't sure why that was the thing that made him feel like his heart had stopped beating.

**

Ed came through with his promise to get the group to his next show, and two weeks later, Stede's entire class showed up with front row tickets, screaming and dancing, and acting like teenagers through the whole thing. 

The show was a bit more…intense than the musical theatre Stede was used to, but Stede had always loved listening to Blackbeard's music, and the energy in the stadium was palpable. Stede's back was sore and his ears were ringing by the time the band took their final encore, but he couldn't stop grinning, even as his throat throbbed from screaming.

When the lights came on and people started filing out of the building, Stede gathered up his stuff and prepared to shuffle out, but one of the stage hands stopped Lucius at the front of their group, and redirected the whole crew through a staff-only door into the backstage area.

"Hey! It's Stede and his band of merry men!" Ed's voice called, and Stede turned to see him hanging out of a doorway, beard and leather still on. "Come on in." He gestured behind him and Stede stepped through the door to find a comfortable green room with some squishy chairs and a brightly lit mirror with an array of makeup in front of it. Ed's eyes were bright as he grinned at Stede. "What'd you think?"

"It was amazing!"

Ed's eyes crinkled at the edges, and he held Stede's gaze for a moment before the rest of the gang swarmed him excitedly. Ed's bandmates Fang and Ivan, and his manager Izzy stepped in from the hall, adding to the chaos. Stede took a step back, suddenly flush with an emotion he couldn't quite describe. All he knew was that the idea that Ed might have been up there on stage, in front of thousands of people, caring about whether Stede was enjoying the show or not felt like a firework going off inside his chest.

Chapter Text

"What's wrong?" Ed asked, bumping Stede's ankle with his foot. "You've been sulky all night."

"I'm not 'sulky.'" Stede tried not to pout but doubted he succeeded. "I'm…well, to be honest, I'm a little anxious about an upcoming obligation."

"What is it?"

"I donate regularly to a charity group that supports youth music programs, and once a year the parent organization throws a fundraiser. It's sort of a fancy dinner event with a silent auction and some performances. That, in and of itself, would be fine, but my ex-wife and her new husband will be there, as will several of our old friends, and it has a way of making me feel distinctly…" he trailed off, not able to put that particular flavour of shame into one word.

"Hmm. That's balls, mate. High school reunion effect, yeah?"

"Exactly."

"You've just got to show up extra cool with a sexy date and perfect hair."

Stede laughed. "I have none of those things."

Ed tipped his head to the side to grin at Stede. "I think you have great hair."

"Thank you." Stede's stomach did a little flip at the unexpected compliment. "I want to support the charity, but I'm not really looking forward to going alone."

"I'll go with you," Ed said, and Stede's heart followed his stomach's suit. "If you want."

"Really? It'll be terribly stuffy and boring."

"I dunno, maybe. But I never do that kind of thing, so I think it'll be kinda funny, at the very least. And if we go together, you won't feel quite so judged, maybe. And if it sucks we'll donate an extra thousand bucks and go get ice cream, instead."

Stede laughed. "That does sound nice. You make a rather compelling point. You sure you won't mind going with me? Don't your PR people need to vet that kind of thing?"

Ed shrugged. "I'll just go as Ed. Or I'll make up a name. Your friend Jeff. I'll just be your friend Jeff for the night. If that's okay. People don't recognize me without the beard."

"Of course."

"Good. Settled then."

"It's black tie."

"Mate, I don't know what that means. All I own is leather and sweatshirts."

"And a surprisingly large collection of dressing gowns," Stede teased. "Do you really have no suits? What about awards ceremonies and things?"

"I never go. And anything I do go to, they expect me to be all Blackbeareded up, so I do. I can get one, though, no bother."

"If you're sure."

"Yeah, it'll be kind of fun. Like Halloween."

Stede barked out a laugh. "We have astonishingly different lives."

"Had," Ed said.

"What?"

"We had astonishingly different lives. Don't think we can say that anymore since half of both of our lives is spent doing the same things, together."

Stede opened his mouth to protest then paused, really thinking about it. Ed was right, actually. They spent almost all their free time together, these days, which inevitably meant doing the same things. Stede still thought of Ed as being this wild animal that he could never hope to tame, but here he was, in jogging pants and a t-shirt that said Cat Dad, spread out on Stede's couch like a Great Dane that didn't know how big it was, and that was a perfectly normal Saturday afternoon for both of them.

"Maybe you're right," Stede mused. "I don't mind," he added shyly.

Ed smiled back slyly. "Me neither."

That Saturday night, Stede buttoned himself into his suit and straightened his tie. He grabbed a second one and rolled it up in his pocket; Ed had texted him that morning asking if he could borrow one. Stede grabbed his things, double checked he had the tickets, then locked up and made his way down to Ed's apartment. He knocked, but there was no answer, so he tried the door and found it unlocked. "I'm here!" he called.

"One minute!" Ed shouted back, so Stede took a seat in the armchair in the living room. Pistol chirped and trotted over to him, but Stede fended him off by petting the top of his head, blocking his lap with one arm. 

"I can't have you shedding on me, my dear," he informed the cat, who didn't seem to care in the slightest, arching his back to rub up against Stede's shin.

"Okay, what do you think?" Ed slid into the room, arms spread wide. He was in his suit, which fit him absolutely perfectly, though still missing the tie Stede had in his pocket, and his top button was undone. A little tuft of red silk popped out of the breast pocket. His hair was pulled back into a bun, a few wavy strands slipping free to frame his face. He hadn't shaved, opting for a few days of salt-and-pepper growth on his jaw. He looked…

Stede swallowed hard. "Oh," he said, stupidly. He'd never really - well, he knew Ed was attractive, objectively, but he was also famous, and being attractive seemed to sort of come with the territory. It had always felt a little inappropriate to notice Ed's looks, because Stede knew that was the only thing some people noticed about him at all, and Stede wanted to be his friend, first and foremost, and not a rabid fan. 

But something about Ed in a suit, a heretofore undocumented creature, dressed up specifically for an outing with Stede, standing in the living room with arms spread and a hopeful look on his face… Well, it was an invitation to appreciate how handsome he was, and for the first time, Stede was entirely unable to resist doing so.

"You look fabulous," Stede managed to choke out. He pushed to his feet, and pulled the tie out of his pocket. "Just missing one thing." Stede's hands automatically looped the tie around his own neck, though there was every chance that just because he didn't own one didn't mean Ed didn't know how to tie it. But Ed failed to look offended, so Stede tied a swift knot then pulled the loop over his head and held it out towards Ed. "May I?" he asked.

"Please."

Stede hooked the tie over his wrist while he tugged Ed's collar up, his knuckles brushing the warm skin of Ed's neck, then he looped the tie over Ed's head and worked it into place. Ed stayed still the whole time, arms loose at his side, eyes fixed on Stede's, which kept flickering from the tie to Ed's face. Stede smoothed Ed's collar down, then tightened the knot. 

There was an electric moment when Stede settled the knot at Ed's throat, his hands firmly gripping the tie and Ed placidly standing there, trusting him. All the things layered on top of each other - Ed's trust, the warmth of his skin under Stede's knuckles, the way he was wearing Stede's tie, that it was Stede's event Ed was getting dressed up for, that Stede's grip on the tie meant Ed was completely at his mercy - until Stede couldn't quite breathe right and he had to release the tie and take a few steps back.

"There, perfect," he announced, even though the tie was still a little crooked. He couldn't bring himself to straighten it. 

"Thanks, mate," Ed said, and maybe there was a bit of roughness, a bit of husk, in his voice that hadn't been there before. He stroked his hands down the tie, looking down at himself. "I don't look too weird?"

Stede smiled. "You look fantastic."

On the cab ride over to the event hall, Stede had time to get nervous about the gala all over again. It was certainly easier, in some ways, to have Ed there, but he hadn't really considered the fact that if this was an exercise in humiliation, Ed would be an audience to it, whereas if he'd come alone, he could just never see these people again, for the most part, and try and forget it ever happened. 

He glanced over at Ed who was smiling serenely out the window and firmly changed his mind. It'd be better with Ed there. Everything was better with Ed, even being humiliated, he was sure.

Stede's heart tightened up into his throat as they made their way into the huge event hall. There was a stage set up along one wall with a string quartet playing. The opposite wall was the bar, and to the north was a long banquet table set out with nibbles and bouquets of fruit. As they walked in, they passed the corner with the silent auction, gift baskets wrapped in clear cellophane sitting on sheets to fill in your bid.

Stede twisted his hands in front of himself and made a beeline for the bar, feeling Ed's steadying presence keeping up beside him. There were trays of champagne set out, and Stede took one of those, feeling too flustered to decide on something to order, but Ed asked for a whiskey.

Stede cast his eyes around the gathered crowd. "Ah," he said, when he looked up to find Mary and Doug making their way across the room, eyes fixed on him.

"What's that?" Ed asked, shaking the ice cubes in his drink.

"My ex-wife and her new husband are coming over."

Ed's eyes snapped up, and he scanned the party, finding Mary in a heartbeat. "She's pretty," he said, an odd twist to his voice.

"Beautiful," Stede agreed. "I might be panicking."

Ed bumped his shoulder against Stede's. "Hey, don't worry, mate. If it gets awkward, I'll just jump up on stage and start dancing."

Stede couldn't help snorting out a laugh. "It's not quite that I'm worried about. I just…" he sighed. "I don't begrudge her her happiness, not at all, but I'm not sure I can take her pity right now."

Ed's fingers curled around Stede's wrist and he squeezed. "There's nothing to pity," he rumbled, leaning in to speak into Stede's ear. "She should be jealous of you, not the other way around."

Ed's closeness had Stede so oddly flustered that he barely processed Mary arriving at his side until she was already saying. "Good evening, Stede!"

"Mary! Hello." Stede kissed her cheek then reached to shake Doug's hand. "Evening, Doug." He gestured beside him, but before he could speak, Ed reached out.

"Jeff," Ed told them. "Stede told me he was coming to this fancy shindig and I begged him to take me. This is amazing."

"Jeff. Nice to meet you." Doug shook Ed's hand. "How do you two know each other?"

"We live nearby. Bumped into each other one day," Stede said.

"Stede broke into my apartment," Ed amended. "It was very dramatic."

Mary turned bright, amused eyes on Stede. "You didn't."

Stede tipped his head to the side. "I may have. It was an accident."

"Then my cats liked him, so I decided to keep him," Ed added, and Stede felt heat flush up the back of his neck. "Plus I like to have him around in case I lock myself out."

Stede chuckled, ignoring the way the back of his neck was heating. "And how are you two tonight?"

They meandered their way through the small talk. When Doug asked Ed what he did for a living he said, "Accountant," which Stede nearly exposed by snorting loudly, barely managing to turn it into a cough at the last minute.

Ed turned out to be excellent social armour; Stede never should have doubted him. No matter who they spoke to, every time the conversation veered towards something that might make Stede uncomfortable, like his divorce or his parents, Ed managed to ask a question that derailed the conversation completely and pulled the attention away from Stede.

After a particularly boring interaction with an art dealer who had known Stede's father, Ed grabbed Stede's wrist and dragged him off across the party. "I'm starving, mate. Come teach me what each of these little canapes are."

Steve was pointing out his favourite cheese puff pastry twists when someone sidled up beside him and grabbed his arm. 

"Stede! Stede Bonnet!" It was Gabriel and Antoinette Boudoir, who he had done business with back when he was running his father's company.

"Oh, hello. How are you?" he asked politely.

"Awful," Antionette drawled. "They always skimp on the wine at these things."

"You must be a friend of Stede's," Gabriel said, pointedly.

"Oh, yes. This is my friend - uh - Jeff."

Ed stepped forward to shake both their hands, barely balancing a tiny plate covered in morsels from the banquet table in his other hand. "Nice to meet you."

"You look kind of familiar," Gabriel said, eyes narrowing. "Have we met?"

"Don't think so. Maybe at the - uh -"

"The firefighter's benefit," Stede supplied. "Two months ago."

Ed snapped his fingers. "That's the one."

"Hmm," Gabriel looked unconvinced. "We didn't attend that one."

"Ah. Sorry, mate. Mind like a sieve. Must have been something else."

"I see." Gabriel and Antoinette were both curling their lips in a way that suggested whatever came out of their mouths next was not going to be kind, so Stede barreled in the way.

"How's business?" he asked, shifting slighting closer to Ed.

"Just awful," Antionette complained. "No one knows how to build relationships anymore."

Stede took that to mean that they weren't getting as many discounts as they used to get, but bit his tongue. "How terrible."

"What kind of work are you in, Jeff."

"Oh, uh, I'm an accountant."

Gabriel brightened. "Oh, well then, of course you know all about that nonsense with Godfrey Thornrose. You must be livid."

"I'm - uh - yeah. I think -" Ed shuffled, radiating discomfort, but he seemed to have forgotten how precarious his stack of canapes was and the small movement was enough to dislodge the entire foundation, spilling a cascade of mini tarts and cheese puffs down the front of his suit. Sadly, a jam and goat cheese bite had been on top and it left a smear of red jam on his silk tie. "Shit." Ed stared at it for a moment, aghast, colour draining rapidly out of his cheeks, then he turned on his heel and bolted for the hallway.

A wave of rare rage washed through Stede as he watched Ed escape through the crowd. Ed was the kind of person to laugh something like that off; if he'd spilled something at rehearsal with Stede's class, he would have cracked a joke, taken off the soiled item, and charged on like nothing had happened, but Stede hadn't been paying attention to how uncomfortable Ed was in this environment, that the fun he was having was on a knife's edge of uncertainty. And two people as rude and condescending as Gabriel and Antionette had pushed it the other way. 

Stede smiled at them broadly. "You know, part of the reason you're finding it so hard to form business relationships is that when I sold the company, I told everyone I knew that you were terrible to work with and they should find someone else. Now, if you'll excuse me." Stede gave them a little nod then deposited his partially full glass on a passing waiter's tray. Antoinette and Gabriel sputtered and huffed as he zipped off through the crowd, searching for Ed.

He found him in one of the bathrooms, at the sink, rubbing furiously at the tie and muttering to himself. As Stede stepped closer, he caught the words: "This is why you don't deserve nice things, mate."

"Hey!" Stede cut him off, and Ed looked up sharply, surprised. Stede took Ed's hands in his own and eased the paper towel out of them. "You deserve the nicest of things," he said softly, and Ed's chest fluttered with a shaky breath. "And I'll not have you saying things like that about my friend, Jeff." 

Stede turned on the tap and let the water run warm, then dipped the paper towel into the stream. He lay the tie flat over his palm and dabbed at the jam, pulling the stain away. He wouldn't be able to get it fully removed until he had it home, but for now, at least, it wasn't quite as obvious. Ed still looked quietly devastated though, so Stede tugged his own tie loose and pulled it over his head. Then he reached towards Ed's throat and loosened his.

"What are you doing?" Ed asked, as Stede switched his tie for Ed's, bringing the clean one over Ed's head.

"You look so special tonight," Stede said. "I get to dress up like this all the time, but you deserve to feel like a million bucks." He smiled at Ed, open and honest. "I don't mind."

"Stede…" Ed seemed unable to make it into a sentence.

Stede smoothed the new tie into place. "Perfect." He dabbed at the soiled one with a fresh paper towel until it was mostly dry, then hooked it over his neck, working the knot into place. He folded his collar back down then turned to find Ed holding out his pocket square towards Stede. "What's that?"

"Oh, nothing, really," Ed said, but there was a tight edge to his voice. "Just something I've kept for far too long. But you let me wear your tie and now your other tie, and I just… I thought I should - You can wear this if you want to?"

Stede reached for the silk hanky, tugging it through Ed's fingers until he could brush it though his own. It was fine fabric, smooth and buttery, a beautiful shade of deep crimson. Stede pulled his own rather drab blue pocket square out and held the two side by side.

"Here," Ed said, swallowing hard. He took both pieces back, folded up the red square somewhat clumsily into a point, then stepped closer to tuck it delicately into Stede's breast pocket.

He was so… close. Stede couldn't pull his gaze from Ed's face, soft and open. He felt the intense urge to do something, but he wasn't sure what.

Ed smoothed the pocket square down, then jammed Stede's in his own pocket with little care, not even looking. "There. The strong colour pulls the eye away from the stain."

"Thank you," Stede breathed.

"Just - uh - just give it back to me at the end of the night, yeah?"

"Of course," Stede assured him. "I'll treasure it as dearly as it clearly deserves."

That made Ed's eyes widen a little and he took another little half step forward, his eyes flicking down to the pocket square, up to Stede's mouth, then back to his eyes again. "Right," he said. "Well. Better get back out there, I guess."

"We wouldn't want to miss the end of the silent auction," Stede replied roughly.

"Exactly."

Stede cleared his throat, then forced himself to turn and push the bathroom door open, leading them back out into the party. Ed said something about ordering another drink, and Stede wandered past the banquet table where nibbles were being swapped out for dessert.

He stopped to listen to the quartet for a moment, then made his way towards the silent auction tables, wondering if Ed would want to bid on anything. Thinking of Ed made him look up to find the man, and he did, almost right away, but he wasn't alone. Ed was leaning against the bar top and chatting with Mary, who was smiling delightedly, almost laughing at something Ed was saying, eyes bright.

Stede swallowed hard, not sure what it was about that image that had him feeling a little dizzy. He turned around forcibly and tried to interest himself in the silent auction, but he was feeling hot and flustered and more than a little exhausted, so he skipped the auction tables and slipped out through a pair of curtain-lined french doors. 

Outside, he found himself on a little patio-cum-balcony, with a few steps down to a rose garden dotted with fairy lights.

Stede leaned his elbows over the balcony railing and gazed out into the night. It was a warm one, but with a slight edge that suggested there weren't many more warm ones left to come. He couldn't settle the churning feeling in his gut from seeing Mary and Ed, but it wasn't quite the jealousy everyone else would expect him to have, so he wasn't sure how to explain it. He didn't want Mary back. A part of him would always be deeply fond of her, but they'd never really been lovers. She would always be special to him, but he was so grateful that she was happy with Doug. He didn't want her, but he wanted… something.

Footsteps behind him made Stede tense up, though he didn't turn to look. He wasn't quite ready to face Ed, and he wasn't sure why that was, either. "E-"

"You alright?" It wasn't Ed, it was Mary, smiling kindly at him.

Stede smiled back. "I thought you were someone else," he confessed.

Mary's eyes twinkled. "He usually the one to come check on you?"

There was something in her voice that made Stede narrow his eyes at her. "What's that supposed to mean?"

But she just laughed. "I like him. He's not really an accountant, though, is he?"

Stede shook his head. He glanced back towards the door. "He's kind of a celebrity, and he didn't want to be recognized."

"'What was -" Mary paused, then a lightbulb visibly went off. "Oh, wow. I see it now."

"Please don't tell anyone."

"Oh, no, of course not. You've really been hanging out with -?" Her eyebrows did something complicated.

Stede shrugged. "He lives in my building. He seemed… lonely when we met. And I'll admit, I was too."

"Oh, Stede." Mary shuffled closer and leaned her head against Stede's shoulder. "You could have called."

"I know." Stede covered her hand with his own. "But I needed to build something new, I think."

"That makes sense. I'm glad you found someone who gets you, Stede. He's utterly devoted to you," she added after a pause.

That made Stede's stomach do another flip, like it was opening night and he couldn't remember his lines. They were silent for a long time, then Stede asked, apropos of nothing, "What's it like to be in love?"

Mary tipped her head to look at him, but he resolutely kept his eyes on the horizon. Maybe it wasn't quite apropos of nothing. "It's… easy." Mary smiled, "It's just like breathing. He understands my idiosyncrasies, finds them charming, even. We expose each other to new things, new ideas. And we laugh a lot. We just pass the time so well. That's love to me."

Stede took a shaky breath in, little snippets of the last few months pummeling his mind like a meteor shower. "I'm -"

When he didn't finish his sentence, Mary squeezed his hand. "You deserve to have that Stede. I want you to be happy."

Stede pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Thank you. And I am happy, my dear."

"Stede!" Ed's voice called, then footsteps tumbled down the hall towards them "Stede - look! They have swans made of chocolate! I got you two."

Mary slid a sly smirk up to Stede, and he wondered if she could hear the sudden pounding in his chest. "Maybe," he whispered, so softly he didn't think she could make it out, "maybe I have found that."

Chapter Text

Over the next two months, Ed seemed to become a part of every aspect of Stede's life. He made it to two more rehearsals - to the delight of Stede's whole cast - he invited Stede to a rehearsal of his own - which was an absolute delight - and he put Stede's name down as the cats' second emergency contact at the vet.

When Stede got it into his head that he would make a little herb garden on his balcony, Ed went with him to the plant nursery and cooed over the little seedling thyme bushes and rosemary trees, never once making Stede feel like his hobbies were silly or childish. He even bought his own pair of beet-and-carrot-patterned gardening gloves. "So I can look after the plants when you're away, like you look after the guard cats," he explained easily, and Stede found himself suddenly short of breath.

He couldn't help thinking about what Mary had said at the gala. I'm glad you found someone who gets you, Stede. 

It's like breathing.

**

Stede dialled Ed's number and waited three rings for him to pick up.

"Stede?"

He smiled, pleased he came up in Ed's caller ID. "Hey, Ed. How are you?"

"I'm good. At rehearsal. What are you up to?"

"I was just doing some lesson planning. I wanted to know if you wanted to have dinner tonight. We can continue my exploration of undignified foods with tacos?"

"Uh, that sounds great, Stede, but I've actually got this buddy in town and our friend's having a party. I said I'd go. He was in the band, actually, back in the day."

Stede's heart fell, but he did his best to cover it, smiling so it would come through in his voice. "Oh, wow. How nice that you get to see each other again. Well, that's fine. We can save the taco adventure for another night. Have fun with your friends!"

"Hey, you know, you could come? If you want to."

"To your friend's party? I wouldn't want to crash."

"No, of course not. You'll come with me. As my friend."

Stede took three quick steps in a circle around his living room for some reason. "Oh, well. Sure. Yes. That sounds lovely. Thank you."

"Fantastic." Ed gave him an address. "Meet me there at eight."

"Alright. Should I bring anything? A dessert? A bottle of wine?"

Ed chuckled, low and soft. "Not that kind of party, mate. Think more like beer and chips. And maybe a little cocaine."

"Ah."

"It's fine. Jack's a great guy. You'll love him."

"Alright." If Ed liked this guy, Stede was sure he'd like him too. "Can't wait."

"See you at eight."

"Have fun at rehearsal."

Stede's mother taught him never to arrive at someone's house empty handed, so he walked to the corner store and bought a six pack, figuring beer would never be a bad choice. At quarter to seven, he ordered an Uber, and made his way across town. Nerves fluttered in his belly, and he wasn't sure if he was nervous about the party or about Ed. Not that he had a reason to be nervous about Ed, but for some reason, lately especially, Ed had been making his tummy do flip-flops. 

The majority of the nerves was the party, though, if he was honest. Stede liked people, but in small doses, and in certain contexts. Last time he'd attended a party of the sort Ed had described, he'd met Mary. He imagined picking his way through a crowd of people he didn't know, trying to find Ed, and he considered calling him, and finding out in advance where to look.

But to his surprise, Ed was waiting out on the front steps, sitting on the top one, elbows on knees. He was in the full Blackbeard getup, beard and all. He jumped up when he saw Stede step out of the car. "Heya, mate! Over here!"

"Hello!" Stede trotted over. "Thanks again for inviting me."

"Of course. Want you to meet everyone. Come on." Ed tugged on Stede's sleeve as he turned and went inside. He shot Stede another smile as they climbed the front steps. "Nice khakis."

"Thanks!" 

There had to be at least thirty people in the house, which Stede hadn't been expecting. They were dotted all over, on couches and leaning against the kitchen counters, chatting. But Ed powered right through the party, Stede in tow, and led his way to a man with handsome features and chin-length shaggy hair, slouched on a stool by the wet bar. Ed presented him like a game show host revealing the prizes. "This is my old buddy, Jack."

"Eddie!" Jack grabbed Ed's hand and pulled him into a half-hug. "You made it!"

"Course I did. Wouldn't miss one of your parties for the fucking world, mate!" Ed pummelled Jack's shoulder with a volley of fake punches, and Jack laughed and hooked his neck, rubbing a fist through his hair. 

"Ger'off me." Ed shoved at him, but he came up laughing, hair wild. There was a bright light in his eyes that Stede had never seen before, when he looked at Jack, and it made Stede feel out of place, extra. Superfluous.

"So." Jack looked Stede up and down. "I see you brought your account manager's dad with you." He snorted.

Ed gave him another bop on the arm with a bit more force behind it. "Jack," he chastised. He turned to Stede. "He's just being a dick. Ignore him. Jack, this is my friend, Stede. He lives in the apartment above me."

Stede extended his hand. "Hello, Jack."

Jack shook it. "Charmed, I'm sure," he said sarcastically, but Ed didn't seem to notice his tone, beaming at him.

"Jack and I go way back," Ed explained. "Back before we were famous. Just two punk kids trying to scramble their way to L.A."

"Oh, oh - remember Hornigold?" Jack took Ed's shoulder and shook it a little. "Such a dick!"

"Oh my god, such a dick!" 

"He used to make us scrub out the van between shows."

"The van?" Stede asked.

"Oh, yeah. After I left home, my first job was as a roadie, working for this piece of shit manager," Ed explained. "That's where Jack and I met."

"There was that time he kicked us out of the van and made us walk," Jack said, and Ed guffawed. "And sometimes he'd have us buy his weed for him. Nearly got caught a few times too. Oh man, and that party in that converted warehouse, where you were doing all those body shots off Leftie's groupie, and we broke into that one house and stole that guy's fucking golf trophy!" Jack dissolved into laughter.

Ed's body language, however, shifted, eyes cutting over to Stede who was trying, and surely failing, to not look judgemental. He knew Ed's life had had its trials, and he hadn't always made the best choices - neither had Stede, in many ways - but Jack seemed to be glorifying that past as if those things were fond memories instead of painful regrets.

Ed chuckled, more awkwardly now, though, and bumped his shoulder against Jack's. "Come on, Stede doesn't want to hear about that shit."

Jack snorted. "Pff. Get a few beers in him, and he'll be smashing garden gnomes with the rest of us." He gave Stede what was likely supposed to be a friendly punch on the arm, but a combination of the force and his large ring left Stede's shoulder stinging painfully instead. He tried to offer a smile - Jack was Ed's friend, after all, and he didn't want to make a scene - but he was getting more and more uncomfortable by the minute.

It didn't help that Ed kept shooting Stede these hopeful, little looks over the next hour, like he wanted him to be having a good time, like he was excited about these two parts of his life colliding. Stede didn't like this part though. It wasn't him. And it didn't really feel like the Ed he knew, either, which either meant this wasn't Ed or Ed wasn't… who he thought he knew.

"Shotgun!" Jack yelled, and several people around him joined in the shout. A beer can was shoved in Ed's hands, and he laughed digging out his pocket knife. 

Jack offered Stede one too, but he shook his head, sidestepping out of the circle of people punching holes in the aluminium and preparing to drink.

"Chug, chug, chug," the chanting began, and Stede looked around, desperate for escape, finding a hallway that presumably led to a bathroom. He slipped away, unnoticed by everyone, and peeked in doors until he found it.

Inside, he shut and locked the door and took a deep breath. He peed and splashed a little cold water on his face, then straightened his clothes. Once more into the breach.

"Oh, hey, it's Steve," Jack slurred. He was standing in the hall when Stede stepped outside. He smirked.

"It's Stede," Stede replied, tersely.

"What is?" Jack smacked him on the shoulder. "You know Eddie won't stop talking about you."

"Is that so?" Stede's eyes cut to the party, but everyone was too far away to catch his eye, so he couldn't pretend Ed was calling him and use the excuse  to step away. "Well, he's become a close friend."

Jack snorted. "I remember when Eddie and I were close friends. Man's not particular when he's drunk, is he?"

Stede frowned. "I'm not sure I know what you mean." He did, actually, know what Jack meant, but it felt especially rude to talk about here, with someone who was ostensibly a stranger, and behind Ed's back. Ed had never explicitly mentioned his sexuality, but Stede got the impression he was… experienced. It was definitely Ed's story to tell though, not Jack's to… brag about. Or whatever he was doing now.

Jack smiled, tilting his head. "Huh. Well, maybe not." He snorted rudely. 

"Excuse me, Jack. I told Ed I'd get him another cooler."

Jack's eyes narrowed. "Eddie I knew didn't like coolers."

Stede swallowed hard, sudden steel in his spine. "Well, maybe he's not quite the Eddie you knew anymore."

"Or maybe you don't know him at all." Jack leaned forward and stumbled, sloshing his drink in its can until it spilled over the edge and splashed on Stede's pants, staining them with a dark patch and making it appear as if he'd wet himself. "Oops." Jack sauntered off, back to the party.

"Well!" Stede huffed. "That was - I'm - dammit." He swiped at his pants, but it was useless. This whole party had been a bad idea from the start. He didn't fit in here. Maybe he didn't fit into Ed's life at all. As much as he didn't like Jack, he had a point. Sure, Stede loved all the time he'd been spending with Ed lately, but that didn't mean they were a good fit on a larger scale. How could Stede pretend that he could really be friends with someone like Blackbeard? He was neither cool enough nor interesting enough, and it was becoming clearer and clearer that Ed was amused by him, humouring him, treating him more like a pet than a friend. Stede felt heat behind his eyes and decided it was best to leave before he embarrassed himself even worse.

Stede slipped down the hall and shuffled his way through the party detritus towards the door. 

"Whoa, hey man. Where you going?" Ed was suddenly at his side, all hopes of slipping out quietly dashed.

Stede considered lying and saying he was just stepping out for some air and he'd be back, but as soon as his eyes met Ed's, he gave that up as impossible. He couldn't lie to Ed. "I think I'll just head home, Ed. Thanks for inviting me, though."

Ed frowned. "You're not having fun?" His eyes dropped to the mess that were Stede's pants and he frowned.

"Not really… my kind of people." Stede patted Ed on the shoulder. "It's alright. I'm glad you're having a good time. And it was nice to see you."

"I -" Ed looked back and forth between Stede and the party.

"Have fun. I'll call you later," Stede assured him, then he turned and made for the door. On his way down the front steps, he ordered an Uber, but it wouldn't arrive for another ten minutes. He slipped under a bus shelter to avoid the chilly, fall drizzle while he waited. There was a fog setting in that made it feel even later and colder than it was.

"Are you taking the bus, then?"

Stede spun around. "Ed?" He was wearing his jacket. "What are you doing?"

He shrugged. "You're leaving. Thought I'd leave too. So we could go home together."

Stede smiled to himself at the thought of their building being a shared home. He dropped his eyes to his shoes. "You were having a nice time, though. I don't want you to leave on my account. You should stay and see your friend."

Ed shrugged, the movement making his leather creak. "I see him all the time."

Stede smiled over at him. "You see me all the time, too."

Ed swallowed. "Still not enough," he breathed.

Stede felt his eyes go wide at the intensity in Ed's voice, the way he held Stede's gaze but there was a tightness around his eyes, an anticipatory tension that robbed Stede of his breath. "Ed… I -"

Then Ed dipped forward and pressed his lips softly to Stede's, a sudden, jerky movement, like he was so overcome by his feelings he couldn't stop himself. Stede sucked in a breath, then surged forward, pushing the kiss deeper. Ed's hands, still warm from the party and the alcohol came up to cup Stede's face, thumbs brushing over his cheeks. 

It wasn't the most elegant kiss - Stede had never kissed a man before and the rough scratch of stubble, the way Ed had a few inches on him, it was all an adjustment. But a good one. Ed too seemed hesitant, a little clumsy, and somehow that lit Stede up even more, made it all feel more real. This wasn't a fleeting fling or Ed wouldn't feel so nervous. It had to mean something.

Right?

Stede pulled back, and Ed's hands stayed on either side of his face. If he wasn't honest now, heartbreak was the only possible option, and he'd rather rip that band-aid off than find out later he'd been a fool. It was time to be brave. "Ed?" he asked. "I think I'm falling in love with you. If that's alright."

Ed smiled, softly at first, and then he burst out laughing. "More than alright, mate. It's absolutely brilliant. Because I am too." He drew Stede into another kiss, more confident this time, more heated. 

Stede pulled a sharp breath through his nose, trying to cool the fire in his veins. All his anxiety fizzled away like bubbles out of a soda and left only excitement in its wake. Ed tasted like beer and cigarettes, which should have been disgusting, but instead made Stede feel like he was getting a second-hand high from it. He leaned in, letting more of his body press against Ed's and earning a gasp against his lips in return. 

A loud honk from only a few feet away startled them both, Stede yelping as he leapt out of Ed's arms. Stede's Uber was waiting by the curb, the driver giving them both an unamused look. "You going somewhere or what?" she asked.

"Oh. Yes, sorry. Didn't see you there." Stede pulled the door open and let Ed slide in first.

"Don't think you would have seen Godzilla," the driver muttered, but she pulled away from the curb.

Stede couldn't help but shoot Ed little glances for the entire drive back to their building. Ed, for his part, stayed sprawled in his usual way, across the other seat, phone out and scrolling, but he kept his foot stretched long so it pressed against Stede's ankle the whole way.

When they climbed out of the Uber, Ed slipped his hand into Stede's and led the way into the elevator. His thumb drew a pattern on the back of Stede's hand as he reached for the buttons, then he hesitated.

"Come over," Stede said, answering his unasked question. "Come up to my place."

Ed hit the nine, then leaned back against the wall to press his shoulder to Stede's. He turned to look at him, just smiling, for several floors. "You make me feel like it's okay I don't have all my shit figured out."

Joy bloomed in Stede's chest. "It's the same for me, my dear. Though, you also make me feel like maybe my 'shit' is a little more figured out than I thought." 

Ed laughed, a low rumble and gave Stede's hand a little squeeze.

Stede cleared his throat. "I'll admit… I - I was thinking earlier tonight that maybe there's no place for me in your life after all. I was worried I was - I dunno - holding you back from having fun, with all our nights staying in and watching movies and going to parties with suits and cheese plates instead of… shotgunning beers and smashing gnomes." He sighed. "I'd like to be in your life, though. If you think you can find space for me."

Ed turned to lean his shoulder against the wall of the elevator and reached out to cup Stede's face with his free hand. "I've had a lot of lives, you know. And I've been living as Blackbeard for so long, too. But you make me feel like it's not too late to change, try something different. I can't pretend Jack isn't my past. He's a fucking dick, but I'm not going to lie and say that's not who I was. But I also don't think it's who I am, either. I came home with you tonight because it's what I honestly would rather do. I like staying in and watching movies with you, Stede Bonnet. I didn't fall for you in spite of that, but because of it."

"Wow, Ed. That's - that's beautiful."

The elevator arrived, and Ed pushed away from the wall with a soft smile, bringing Stede along with him down the hall and to his door. Stede reclaimed his hand to unlock the apartment but as soon as they were on the other side of the threshold, Ed drew him into his arms and swung the door closed. Stede placed both hands on Ed's chest, two fingers finding the lapel of his leather jacket and rubbing it. It was just as soft as he'd always imagined, buttery smooth and well-worn. 

"You make me want to start writing music again," Ed rumbled, diving in for another kiss, and Stede was entirely undone.

Chapter Text

Two months later…

Stede opened one of Ed's cupboards and started a cascade of tupperware lids. "Oh for heave - this man!" He shoved them all into a pile on the counter to deal with later then continued his hunt for a cutting board. 

Ed had a beautiful kitchen with many beautiful things in it, but he never put anything back in the same place twice which led to absolute chaos. At this point, Stede wasn't sure if he genuinely didn't remember where things were supposed to go, genuinely didn't care, or was doing it on purpose to antagonize Stede because Ed thought it was kind of hot when he got huffy. 

All three felt equally possible.

Pistol watched Stede huff around the kitchen from the windowsill.

"I'm getting your father a label maker for Christmas and I'm - why is there a pair of binoculars in a kitchen cupboard?"

Pistol spread his toes to start delicately licking between them.

Then Stede's phone started chiming with an alarm. 

"Oh! It's starting." Stede grabbed the remote control from the corner of the counter and flicked on the TV, flipping around until he found the right channel. He couldn't help his smile as he saw Ed sitting in a puffy armchair across from a young lady that Stede was sure his kids would screech the name of, but he couldn't remember for the life of him. Ed was all done up in his Blackbeard kit, but Stede could see past that now, see the man underneath. The man he loved.

"Oh, that's my favourite part," Ed was saying, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "I love seeing young people inspired to start music careers or pick up a new instrument or heck, even sing in the shower. Love seeing older people inspired too, for that matter. When people tell me I'm the reason they play or sing or dance… yeah, that's my favourite part."

The interviewer smiled. "That's lovely. So in the interest of balance, what's your least favourite part?"

Stede laughed. "Doing what he's doing right now," he muttered. He only half listened as Ed made something up about how being bustled around from place to place on tour made him feel like he didn't get enough time in one spot. Stede found the stack of mixing bowls in the drawer under the stove of all places and started collecting ingredients. 

Neither of them was very good at cooking. Ed was pure chaos, adding ingredients at random and sometimes completely changing plans halfway through a recipe. Stede was more straightforward, but he didn't have much practice, so sometimes the techniques themselves eluded him. 

But Ed loved lasagna, and Stede loved Ed, and tonight would mark their first night without Blackbeard as the trois in the proverbial menage a trois that was life with a celebrity - just as soon as he was done with this interview. So Stede was making Ed lasagna, and he knew they'd both leave the dishes for tomorrow.

"So," the interviewer said, "I know what everyone is wondering is when they can see you again. You've just finished up a world tour. I have to ask - is there an album coming out? When do you plan to tour again?"

Ed smiled softly and leaned back in his chair, hands folded in his lap. "Actually… I'm going on hiatus. I won't be in the studio and I won't be performing for a little while. I'm taking some time off. That might lead to writing some new music but it also might not. Just going to follow my heart for a bit."

"Oh! Oh, well. I can't lie and say it's not a disappointment not to be getting something new, but breaks are important too. Got any big plans during that time? A new hobby you're picking up?"

That made Ed laugh. "Well, a new friend of mine is going to teach me how to sew, which is pretty awesome, and I'm assured that lockpicking is an excellent choice as well, but mostly the plan is not to have a plan. It's just going to be me and my partner and my cats, seeing where the wind blows us."

The interviewer's eyes went wide, and Stede paused, the spoon frozen over the pot. "Your partner? I don't think you've ever talked about a partner before. Is this a new relationship?"

Ed hummed. "Kinda, kinda not. We'd rather keep things between us, for the most part. But I will say that he's the love of my life, and every day I'm excited that I get to start another one with him."

"Oh, my god, Ed," Stede breathed. "You just came out on national television. Izzy is going to have a heart attack, poor man."

The interviewer looked like she was caught between surprise, genuine delight at how in love Ed clearly was, and sheer glee at the number of hits the video would be getting on YouTube in a few hours. "That's beautiful. I'm so happy for you. And we know all about the cats, of course. They're all over your album art."

"Ah, yeah, love those kids. Even if they leave hair on everything. That's why I only wear black. Hides the fur."

"Tell me, Ed, I won't ask for more details, but does this mystery boyfriend of yours have anything to do with you suddenly going on hiatus for the first time in your career?"

Ed's smile deepened, rich and full and serious. "Pretty sure he has everything to do with all the good things in my life right now, so yeah. Yeah, he does. And I'm eternally grateful for him."

"Well, I think that's a lovely note to end on, and we're running short on time, so -"

Stede's phone buzzed loudly in his pocket, and he set his spoon down and rinsed his hands before he dug it out.

Izzy Hands: All I ask is you don't break his fucking heart.

Stede stared at the text for a long time, heart in his throat. 

Stede: The very last thing I'd want to do is hurt him. I'll try my best.

The interview was over, so Stede put the TV on mute and focused on his cooking, spreading garlic butter over the slices of thick, Italian loaf. 

Right as the timer beeped for the garlic bread, Stede heard a key in the door, and a moment later, strong arms circled his waist. "Good evening, my love."

Ed pressed his lips to Stede's neck, the fake beard scratching against his skin. Stede turned in his arms and drew him into a proper kiss. "I'm making lasagna."

"My favourite."

Stede dragged both palms down the front of Ed's leather. "You know, as much as I love this look on you, I think you'd be more comfortable after a shower, don't you think?"

"Absolutely." Ed kissed him again. "I'll be right back." He stole one more kiss, then a crouton from the salad, and sauntered out. "Hello my precious boys," Stede heard him murmur at the cats on the way to the bathroom. "Daddy missed you."

Ed reappeared ten minutes later with the beard and the make-up and the clothes gone. He was soft and a little damp, a bit of eyeliner smudged under one eye, wrapped in the robe he'd bought Stede for his birthday, even though he had plenty of his own. "Let's just eat on the couch, yeah?"

"Alright." Stede filled two plates and they sat side by side on the couch, Ed curled half on his side so he could snuggle up against Stede's side. "So you're officially on hiatus. How does that feel?"

"Feels pretty good, mate." Ed shoved a forkful of lasagna in his mouth. "I thought maybe I could come to class with you again on Wednesday. Play with the gang."

"Absolutely. They'd love that."

"I love you." Ed tipped his head to the side to beam up at Stede, creases blooming around his eyes. 

"I love you, too."

"Thank you for loving me as Ed."

Stede brushed his knuckles along Ed's cheek. "Thank you for teaching me what love means."

"Guess you can teach an old dog new tricks after all," Ed joked. "Both of us."

Stede laughed, snuggling down closer, warm and safe, cared for and - finally - happy. "Guess you can."