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Chapter Text

June 15, 1959

Nine years with the same woman.

Eleven years at the same university.

And now, all at once and with no warning at all, Stede Bonnet had left them both behind. 

He thought that the act of leaving itself would change him entirely. But as he sat on the tail end of a long train journey that carried him from Chicago, Illinois to Reno, Nevada, Stede felt curiously unchanged. He still looked the same. He took his tea the same way. Even the guilt, anxiety and inadequacy that thrummed in his veins now were the same emotions that he had always felt- the only difference was that now they had a clear focal point.

But Stede was determined to become a new man, one way or another. So far, he had bought two new hats and made an honest effort to give up smoking. It was all he could think to do at the moment, but he was sure that he would come up with something more fundamentally transformative soon.

Even his wedding ring was still securely on his finger. Not by choice, however! He had tried to take it off before he left for the train station, first casually at his desk, then desperately in the bathroom, but even soap and water would not ease the ring past a joint thickened over nine years.

It would, he supposed, have to be cut off. 

The ring, of course. Not the finger.

Reno, Nevada was like nowhere Stede had ever seen. The colorful billboards advertising restaurants, seedy motels and casinos overwhelmed him as they zipped past the taxi windows. The casinos all had fantastic, exotic names: Prima Donna, Spanish Jackie'z, Mount Olympus. Massive exaggerations of jewelry decorated the sides of buildings: wedding rings as big as hula hoops, big enough to walk through. 

But what Stede found really shocking was the famous neon chapel, which offered, in great block letters, twenty-four hour service, including a minister, flowers, a photographer, and witnesses. Perhaps they also supplied spare brides and grooms, he thought with a smirk. 

Stede drummed his fingers impatiently in the back of the car. He was doing it, he was finally doing it. Doing something. There was no turning back now- surely Mary had found his letter already. He knew what they must be saying about him now- weak-hearted, soft-handed, lily-livered little rich boy ran away in the night, abandoned his wife and-

No.

Stede’s father was dead, and now his son was ready to step out of his shadow at last. It had only been three months ago that Stede stood in a dull black suit and shook the hands of an endless line of mourners. His father, the decorated Dean, had dictated every aspect of Stede’s life, hauling him across the Pacific Ocean like luggage when he was nine years old, first to Australia, then to America. Stede had done everything asked of him, or nearly. He studied at his father's esteemed university, then took a teaching position, always painfully aware that he was only there thanks to his name. But no more. He was thirty-three years old, and ready to begin again. If Jesus Christ could be reborn at thirty-three, why not Stede Bonnet?

When the cab pulled onto a long gravel side road, it wasn't long before Stede saw the welcoming arches of a gate, topped by a weathered wooden sign that read Orange Sky Ranch. The property itself consisted of five or six buildings, including a modest barn, several small outposts and one massive two-story house. 

Stede was greeted by Herbert Packer, a squat, slow-moving man in his sixties. Herbert looked a lot like the sign in front of the ranch- sturdy despite his age, and tinted by a lifetime in the sun.  He greeted Stede by name and then called out for someone named Walter. 

Walter came into the hall from the living room, a dark-haired, bland-faced boy blinking into the sunlight, the Sunday funnies still in his hand. He reminded Stede of so many of his students who lounged in the chairs at the back of his lecture room day after day, year after year, comfortable in their own skins in a way that Stede had always envied.

"Take Dr. Bonnet up to his room, then bring him his luggage," Herbert directed, then he turned to Stede, all business. "Dinner's at five thirty. If you need anything before then, my boys’ll be happy to help you."

Stede made a mental note- Walter was evidently only one of Herb’s boys. "That's perfect. I'll just have time to freshen up." 

The room Walter showed Stede into was large and leaf-dappled. The double bed against the wall was neatly made, the closet was nearly large enough for Stede’s needs, and an antique writing desk in the corner dominated the room. 

"Your bathroom's through that door. There ought to be clean towels just inside the closet there," Walter panted, as he heaved one suitcase on the luggage rack at the foot of the bed, and the other across the arms of a chintz chair. "Don't smoke in bed. There isn't any fire escape. Put toenails in the ashtray. There's nobody in the room next to yours until next week, but once he arrives, no radio after 10 PM, on account of the thin walls. Oh, and no guests allowed. Mealtimes, activity calendars and other house rules are in the printed folder in the Gideon Bible by your bed. Any questions?"

Stede smiled, tight-lipped, and shook his head. 

"Well, I have one," the boy continued. "We've been having an argument. I told Herb that he should call you Dr. Bonnet, but he said you only do that for, uh, medicine doctors. Which is it?"

This was the part, Stede knew, where a confident man would give a modest smile and say 'Doctor Bonnet is my father- do call me Stede.' He had even practiced that phrase in front of the mirror, years ago, when he first completed his doctorate. 

But, of course, everybody Stede met back in Chicago already knew that Doctor Bonnet was his father. How could they not? Doctor Bonnet and his son, Baby Bonnet, following in his wake like a little yellow duckling.

"It doesn't really matter at all," Stede replied, impatient now for a moment alone. “call me what you like”. 

Walter let out a breath of disappointment, clearly hoping to win an argument. "If you come down about a quarter to five, we roll a bar cart in the living room before supper."

"Fab. Thanks."

As Walter closed the door behind him, Stede closed his eyes and took a breath. He gave himself thirty seconds, no more, to retreat inside himself, then he returned to the world. He took in his surroundings- it really was quite a nice room.

He  took off his hat and opened one suitcase to find his toiletry bag. The bathroom, he found to his delight, was large, clean, and old-fashioned, with an expansive counter around the sink. He unzipped his shaving kit and ritualistically placed one jar after another of shaving cream, aftershave, pomades and lotions. His father’s shaving kit had fascinated Stede even when he was a child, likely because he was never allowed to touch it. Like wine, like snuff, like perfume, it was for adults only. Now his own bathtime rituals were among his greatest pleasures.

Stede looked at the tub, which was long, deep and claw-footed, and realized how much he wanted a bath. There wasn't time now. After dinner he could really enjoy himself.

The thought that he might actually enjoy himself at Orange Sky Ranch had not occurred to him before. But why not? He had thought of Reno as a sort of waiting room, but maybe it would be enjoyable, too, like the music of an entr'acte before the next act of his life was to begin.

For the third time that day, he unfolded the letter from his attorney back in Chicago.

Fettering & Larsson

Counselors at Law

Chicago, IL

May 23, 1959

Dr. Stede Bonnet

Box 2349

Chicago, Illinois 60615

Dr. Bonnet,

Thank you again for entrusting me with your inquiry. Please rest assured, I will handle the matter with absolute discretion. I have already passed your information along to Mr. Larsson, my contact in Reno. He will familiarize you with Nevada’s no-fault divorce laws, and, if you wish, represent you in the dissolution of your marriage. 

To answer your second question, no, your wife will not need to be physically present at any time in Nevada to formalize the divorce; only one party must establish residency in that state. However, you must comply with residence requirements entirely. You will need to stay in the state for a full six weeks, and a credible witness must testify at your hearing that you have not left the state for a period of more than 24 hours for the duration of those six weeks.

I have enclosed several brochures for so-called “Divorce Ranches”, where gentlemen of means such as yourself can find six weeks of rest and relaxation, along with a proprietor who can serve as a witness to the aforementioned residency compliance.

If you change your mind and decide to remain in your marriage, the divorce proceedings will, of course, have no bearing until the six weeks in Nevada have passed are up and your divorce hearing is completed.

Very truly yours, 

Jeffrey Fettering, esq.

+++

Feeling cooler, cleaner and altogether more optimistic, Stede dressed for dinner.

"Did the new arrival beat me here?" A man's voice rumbled from below, deep and mellow and familiar, so familiar. Stede stopped in his tracks, head cocked, like he was identifying a sonata. The voice continued, "Word on the street is, this one's a long way from home."

Stede's feet carried him out of his room and to the top of the stairs before he knew he was moving.

There were only two of them down there: Walter, still struggling with the rest of Stede's baggage, and the man whose voice Stede had heard. He stood in a cage of sunlight by the bay window, facing away from the stairs. The word home was ringing in Stede's ears, and he cleared his throat impatiently, eager to hear the man speak again.

The warm glow of the afternoon sun perfectly hit every angle of the man's face as he turned around to face Stede. He was handsome, no doubt the type that his sillier female students would call dreamy, with curly black hair and a strong jaw and dark, expressive eyes that reminded Stede of old silent films. He wondered if this man was a movie star- he had read that quite a few celebrities came to Reno for their own divorces. His meandering thoughts went silent when the man finally spoke again.

"The gentleman from New Zealand, I presume."

Stede's mind fizzled. "You've heard of me?" he asked, then winced at his own words.

"Oh, sure," the man raised his eyebrows, "I've heard all about you. The doctor from Chicago who's really from a certain island on the Pacific? It's a small ranch, news travels fast. You'll see." He winked then, a gesture that Stede usually found far too chummy, but on him it looked natural.

"You're from New Zealand, too." was all he could think to say. Stupid.

If the man noticed how asinine Stede was being, he didn't let it show. "D'you think we're related?" he asked instead.

Stede laughed before he could stop himself. Besides the obvious lack of family resemblance, it would be outrageous for somebody like him to be related to somebody so… self-assured, and masculine, and capable seeming. The man laughed back at Stede, and oh, even this man’s laugh was warm and hearty. No, they were certainly not related.

"Dr. Bonnet, this is Ed Teach," Walter interrupted from somewhere off to the side. "Can I get you anything? A drink?"

"Brandy, thanks," Stede said. "Hello, Ed."

"Hello, Dr. Bonnet." Ed was staring at him. Why was Ed staring at him?

“It’s just Stede,” he replied quickly. 

“Hello, Stede.” 

A long line of silence stretched between them. Finally, Ed spoke again. “D’you want me to get a crick in my neck?”

“Pardon?” 

With a patient smile, Ed nodded his chin up at Stede, who was still standing at the top of the stairway. Stede chuckled self-consciously and descended.

Ed waited for him at the base of the stairs.

"Herb tells me you teach at the University of Chicago." Ed said.

"That's right," Stede answered before he could think. Damn. "Well, no. I did. I've- I've cut my ties to University of Chicago. And I've just taken a new job, actually. I start in the fall."

"Another school?"

"Pomona College," Stede said, the name still alien on his lips. “In California.”

Ed whistled. "Chicago to California, with a layover at a divorce ranch? When you cut ties, you really cut ties."

Stede blushed. This man must be here for a divorce, too, he reminded himself. There was no reason to be ashamed. He made himself meet Ed’s eyes and conjured false bravado. “What can I say? If something's worth doing, it’s worth doing all the way.”

Ed laughed again, and Stede even managed a chuckle at his own expense.

Somebody handed Stede his drink as they all took seats around the table. As the clock approached suppertime, three or four other men trickled in. Stede took the appropriate social steps- repeating their names back to them, shaking their hands firmly- but they were just a blur of faces in his mind.  Perhaps it was the brandy, or the long days of travel, but Stede felt a pleasant sort of lightheadedness, and a strange fullness in his chest that he didn't want to fight.

Cocktail-hour conversation was usually his forte, but this evening he found it difficult to follow the discussion. As he watched rather than listened, his mind wandered to his extraordinary Ed’s clothes were. On that hot evening, he wore black denim pants, black boots, and a smartly-fitted black shirt with silver western accents. It was all terribly authentic, and Stede was glad to see that he wasn't the only guest at the ranch who had shopped for new clothes especially for this trip.

"D'you think so, Stede?" Ed asked at the end of a question that might have had something to do with movie stars.

"I'm sorry. I was admiring your shirt." Stede said before he could think. 

Ed looked down at himself. "Huh. Thanks. Yours is pretty flashy, too, y’know."

Stede smoothed the front of his cerulean blue shirt, preening a little, but Herbert left him no time to repond. He plowed right back into the conversion they'd been having, snapping his fingers in the air in Ed's general direction. "What was the name of the movie star that stayed here- the Olympian, the swimmer?"

Ed gave him a funny look and shrugged. "Don’t know who you mean."

Herb snorted. "The hell you don’t. You were so star-struck you were practically following the poor man around the ranch!"

A flush of color filled Ed's cheeks as he scowled. "That was ten years ago!"

“I’m sorry,” Stede butted in, feeling that he had missed something crucial, “Ed- you were here ten years ago?”

Herb chuckled. “He was here twenty years ago, too. Can’t hardly get rid of him. Ed here’s my oldest boy.”

Stede brought his glass of brandy to his lips to cover his surprise. When Herbert had mentioned boys , he had expected children. Another gawky teenager like Walter. Ed was- well, he was a man. Stede couldn’t imagine why anybody would call him a boy.

“So you’re not…”

“Not here to un-hitch my wagon?” Ed waggled his eyebrows.

“Edward!” Herbert’s voice was sharp, and Ed looked chastened. “Ed’s mother, God rest her, came to Reno back in ‘38. She meant to stay for six weeks, like you, but then-”

“But then her dumb kid broke his leg,” Ed grinned, “and we had to stick around a while longer. And then she met Herb, and the rest is history.”

Ah. So Ed was Herbert’s stepson. The new information felt important, somehow, and Stede let it settle in the back of his mind.

“And what is it you do , Mr. Teach?” asked one of the blurry-faced ranch guests, with a tone of polite condescension that Stede knew all too well. He took an indignant breath, but he wasn't the only only one.

“What doesn’t he do?” Herbert huffed. “Ed’s the busiest man in Reno, after the Padre.”

“This and that. Help out around the ranch, mostly. Tonight- well, every Monday night- I’m a disc jockey at KOH, nine to eleven PM. And I fool around with photography, when I have the time.”

“My goodness,” Stede said, “you’re an artist. Of course.” He had an artistic look to him, didn’t he?

“Nah," Ed said modestly. "I just like to mess around.”

“Well, I’d love to see your photography, some time.” It was the polite thing to say, but Stede found that he really meant it. Ed responded with the expected polite response, and the rest of the evening passed in an exhausted haze. The weight of the day and all its travel pressed down on him, and by the time supper ended, Stede was eager to retire for the evening.

"I don't blame you," one of the other guests said- Mr. Hornberry, maybe, Stede couldn't remember or care. "Travel takes it out on a man."

+++

When Stede finished his lengthy soak in the claw-footed tub, it was only nine o’clock. He wasn’t used to so much free time in the evenings, and he had already unpacked his suitcases and gone through his correspondence to prepare for tomorrow’s meeting with his attorney. 

It was the earliest Stede had gone to bed since he was a child. He had developed a routine in his marriage: he would work in his study until Mary went to bed, then he would bathe, and only after Mary was long asleep would Stede quietly slip into his side of their bed and put on his face mask. 

Tonight, however, he had the night all to himself. He thought of reading a book in bed. Why not? He pulled out the last book he had begun on the train and thumbed it open. 

After restlessly reading the same page three times, he closed the book and placed on the table by the clock radio. He glanced at the time- it was only 9:20. Impulsively, Stede turned the radio on, twisting the dial in concentration until he found what he was looking for.

[Ed's radio show is playing - Tryin' to Get to You by Roy Orbison]

Chapter Text

June 15, 1959

“That clock’s pushing over to eleven, so it’s time for Blackbeard to set sail on the airwaves at KOH tonight. Hope you’ve had a nice time, and remember- you can request songs or send in hot tips by sending a postcard to the KOH offices, at…”

As Ed rattled off his closing lines, he was already packing up to leave. There was a time when his night on the radio was the highlight of his week. It used to thrill him, choosing the records, flipping the switches, knowing that his voice reached every corner of Washoe County. But now, like most things in Ed's life, it was just a way to fill time.

But tonight, at least, he'd made a little game of it. He didn't play songs from the write-in request stack, or from the Tomorrow's Hits stack. Tonight, every song he played was for the new arrival at Orange Sky Ranch. 

It was dumb, Ed knew that. It's not like the man was going to listen, let alone listen for some hidden meaning. Ed was playing a single-player game, sending out a message nobody would ever decode. Just a way to get his own thoughts in order.

Truth be told, he’d been thinking about Stede Bonnet for days, since before they met, ever since Herb told him there’d be a guest from New Zealand. In twenty years, his mother was the only other soul from his home country that Ed had known. After she passed away six years ago, Ed wondered if he’d ever hear a voice like hers again. 

It’s not that Stede sounded like Ed’s mother- no, the man had picked up as many Americanisms as Ed had, or nearly, but the lilt of his voice felt familiar in a way that Ed couldn’t quite place yet. 

And, he admitted to himself, Stede wasn’t bad to look at. He was trim with broad shoulders, well-dressed, sophisticated. Ed had expected somebody older- he was a doctor, after all- but he looked to be about the same age as Ed. Maybe he wasn’t the most rugged man who ever stayed at Herb’s divorce ranch, but his smile was sweet and his hair was spun gold and his laugh made Ed want to join the circus, if that’s what it would take to hear that laugh again.

Stede wasn’t like most of the guys that passed through Reno, and he sure as hell wasn’t like any of the guys who stayed in Reno. No, he was something new. 

Ed was in trouble, wasn’t he?

He couldn’t head straight home, wound up as he was. Especially if there was a chance of running into Stede back at the ranch. No, what Ed needed tonight was a drink. And good company.

He nodded at the security guard on the way out, hopped in the Chevy, and headed to Benji's. 

Benji’s Barroom was a dark little nightclub just off the beaten path of downtown Reno, with a few small, high windows facing the back parking lot. There had been a time when Benji’s had a broad blue awning proclaiming its name above the sidewalk. Back then, the bar sponsored a float in Reno's annual Independence Day parade, and the couple who owned the bar smiled and waved at the gathered crowds. 

But the 1950s brought the vice raids, and the stings, and the arrests. All told, thirty-two men in Reno were brought in on various charges: “lewd conduct”, “infamous crimes against nature” or sometimes just plain “sodomy”. Most of them got fined and released, then got out of town. Most, but not all. 

Thanks to the powerful influence of one sympathetic casino owner, the liquor license at Benji’s was restored, but one of the owners - Benjamin, whose name still graced the bar- was still down in Carson City, four years into a ten-year prison sentence. 

Now Benji’s Barroom had roll-down bamboo shutters covering the glass in the doors, and the parking was moved out back, safe from prying eyes. Things had cooled down, at least in Nevada, at least for now.

+++

"Great show tonight, Blackbeard, sir!" 

Ed scratched the back of his neck, trying to remember the name of the stocky, bald bouncer staring adoringly at him. Peter? Paul? James? Whatever. 

"You can just call me Ed, y'know. Same way I call you…" 

His gambit failed. The bouncer was already eagerly opening the door for him, babbling some empty praise and well-wishes. Ed muttered something appreciative and stepped inside.

A long wooden wraparound bar dominated the nightclub, with a small cabaret stage, now empty, raised behind it. A few guys were perched on the stools, ordering drinks from a shaggy-haired barback that Ed didn't recognize. And in his own booth, holding court at the center of it all as always, was Izzy Hands. 

Izzy was flanked at his table on either side by men hanging onto his every word. Ed cut his way through the sparse crowd and headed straight to the table of familiar faces. He pressed a friendly kiss to the top of Fang's head, then Ivan's, then motioned to do the same to Izzy.

"Don't you fucking dare," the older man rasped as he scowled at Ed. Then his face softened, "I just got my hair to look right."

Ed laughed as he pulled out a chair. Izzy raised his eyebrow and his index finger in the direction of the bar, and the next thing Ed knew, a cold beer was in his hand.

"Who's the kid behind the bar?" Ed asked, settling in.

Izzy snorted. "Jim's older than you think. A friend of Oluwande's."

Fang leaned in conspiratorially. "Used to sell cigarettes at Spanish Jackie'z, if you can believe it."

"No shit?" Ivan twisted around in his chair to get a better look at the newcomer.

"Look at you," Ed chuckled, "a bunch of gossipy old hens. If I ever get as bad as you, I want you to run me out of town."

He felt Izzy's appraising gaze. "You're in a surprisingly good mood, Edward."

What the hell was that supposed to mean, 'surprisingly good mood'? Sure, maybe he'd been a little blue lately, but that was because he was bored , not miserable. Was it that surprising to see him smile?

"Yeah, well, maybe I am in a good mood," Ed shrugged, determined not to let Izzy bait him, "I met somebody at the ranch today, and-"

Izzy pointedly blew out a jet of smoke. "You'd better not mean you met a man at Herb's fucking ranch, Edward. You're smarter than that."

"It's not like that," he protested, feeling oddly like he was lying. "He's just from home. I mean, New Zealand. Meeting him made me feel sentimental, is all."

Ivan's brow was furrowed. "I thought you were from Australia?"

Ed winced, as Izzy pulled a nickel out of his pocket and flipped it to Fang. "Boys, go put something new on the jukebox for us, will you?"

The two men obediently shuffled out of the booth and left them alone. Izzy stared silently at Ed and took a deep drag on his cigarette.

"What now? You've got me under a microscope tonight."

Izzy just kept on looking. "No microscope. I'm just asking myself a question: is Edward not mentioning the wedding because he's angry? Or is it because he doesn't know yet?"

Impatience blossomed in Ed's chest. He was in too good a mood to be roped into one of Izzy's games. "Obviously I don't know what you're talking about, so let's skip to the bit where you spill the gossip you're just dying to tell me, yeah?"

The jukebox kicked to life and Fang and Ivan's selection filled the room

Chapter Text

June 16, 1959

Stede's first full day in Reno began so well. He woke up early, feeling as if he was emerging from the best sleep of his life. How funny- back home, even the slightest noise could disturb his slumber, but this morning the little bedside radio was still playing, only a few feet from his face. Maybe Stede really was becoming a new man after all.

That thought pleased him, and he let the radio play as he went through his morning routine. He even hummed along with an unfamiliar tune as he shaved and styled his hair. The bathroom here was sunny, far better-lit than the one in his lavish apartment back in Chicago, and Stede's smile dropped a little when he noticed a new line creasing his forehead.

Well. He had a cream for that, didn't he?

It was still quite early when Stede made his way downstairs, too early for any of the other guests to be awake, it seemed. Just as well. The last thing Stede wanted was to make stilted small-talk with the rest of the guests at the ranch, the businessmen and salesmen who were escaping from their marriages, just like Stede.

Just his luck, then, that he was alone. It was even too early for the breakfast service to be laid out, but Stede could make some tea and toast, at least. Soon he was sitting cozy on the sunny side of the breakfast table, tucked into his book.

He was so engrossed in Henderson the Rain King that he didn't notice Ed Teach's eyes on him until the man was already seated across the table. When he finally did look up, he made a startled squeak so high-pitched and flamboyant that he clapped his hands over his mouth, letting the book drop to the table.

Ed had the courtesy not to laugh, and after a flurry of apologies and reassurance, Stede found himself quite swept up in conversation. They skipped right past the dreaded small-talk and bantered like old friends. 

Well, Stede assumed as much. He didn't have any old friends.

Talking to Ed brought back that same twist in the stomach that Stede could now identify as a mix of admiration and envy. How lovely it would be to move through the world the way Ed did, so talented and charismatic, turning strangers into friends with a smile and a well-timed joke. Even the way he sat in a chair seemed extraordinary to Stede- legs splayed out, shoulders relaxed, one thumb moving idly up and down the side of his coffee cup.

Yes, Stede was guilty of a bit of envy, it was clear.

When Ed offered Stede a ride to his appointment with his lawyer, he declined out of politeness, although it made his stomach twinge to do so. When Ed offered again, well, it would have been impolite to decline twice, wouldn't it? Especially since he was already heading into town today.

And when Ed said they would be picking up a friend of his on the way in, Stede pushed down his nerves and tried to be optimistic. Surely, any man who was a friend of Ed's must be as easy to get along with as Ed himself.

Why, considering how well Stede's day was going, this Jack might even prove to be another friend-in-the-making. 

Wouldn't that be lovely?

Alas.

From the moment Stede saw Jack, he knew the type of man he was. Boorish, boastful and unkind. A bully. He laughed at Stede, and worse, Ed had laughed along with him. Being laughed at by a bully was something that Stede had learned to tolerate long ago. Being laughed at by somebody that Stede had thought- hoped- might be a friend? That was a new kind of injury, and it hurt the way fresh wounds do. 

And then, before he had the chance to compose himself, Stede found himself in the office of one Lars Larsson, Esquire.

+++

Swedish knick-knacks covered nearly every corner of the lawyer’s office. Statuettes of little blond children and white-bearded gnomes stared dead-eyed at Stede from the edge of Lars Larsson’s desk. Gaily painted horses propped open doors. And a large poster with an illustration of a tour ship docking at a Swedish shore was framed on the wall.

Well, at least it was an ice-breaker. “Are you from Sweden, then?” 

“Kansas?” 

Stede blinked. Was he being asked a question, or-

“I’m from Kansas?” the lawyer continued, although the distinctive lilt in his voice made him sound distinctly Swedish, “but my family is from Sweden originally?”

“Well… your office decor is positively lively,” said Stede, who thought the office decor was positively awful. “Are there many Swedes in Kansas?”

All Lars Larsson had to say about that was a declarative “Yes?” He turned his attention to the folder of paperwork pertaining to Stede’s divorce.

He thumbed his way through the papers. “This is good?” he said, turning the page. Then, again, “Good?” Stede shifted uncomfortably, unsure what to make of this peculiar man. He looked up at Stede at last. “This is the settlement you're willing to offer?” he asked.

“Um, yes.”

“It’s very generous?” Larsson… said.

“Money isn't a concern. My priority,” Stede said, “is to dissolve our marriage as quickly and quietly as possible.” He was offering Mary more than what was fair in the courts, but if it would spare them both a public case, he would offer her everything.

Lars Larsson wrote something down in his leather-bound notebook, then looked up and smiled. It was not quite reassuring. “The papers are in good order? I’ll send them today to Mrs. Bonnet’s representation. You’re prepared to pay that fee?” Stede nodded. “Now all we have to do is establish the grounds for divorce?”

“Irreconcilable differences,” Stede answered at once. He’d already figured it all out.

For a moment, the smile plastered on Lars Larsson’s face flickered. “The thing is… that’s not actually legal grounds for divorce in Nevada?”

Stede scowled. “I don’t understand, that’s what’s in all the books.”

The Swede just shrugged. “Mental cruelty would be the closest thing?”

“But that’s not close at all!”

“The result is the same,” Larsson said, and waited.

“I see,” Stede said at last. What else could he say?

“Now,” the Swede relaxed. “I need a few details- just enough to establish the charge, you understand. Now… did your wife’s behavior cause you to suffer any nervous strain?” Stede thought of Mary, already asleep as he silently crept into bed, night after night. 

"I wouldn't say so, no. Not her behavior."

"Her personality, then? Did she make impossible demands, berate you in public?"

Stede desperately wanted a cigarette. 

When Stede met Mary, she was a sharp-eyed undergraduate studying Art History, and he was the Graduate Teaching Assistant for his father's course on Roman architecture. Mary was intelligent and honest and from the right kind of family, and when Stede's father suggested that he should pursue her, he couldn't think of any compelling argument against it. 

Except for one.

"Love?" His father chuckled and turned the page of his book, not even looking up. "Imbeciles marry for love. Mary has good breeding. I shudder to imagine the kind of frivolous golddigger you would choose, left to your own devices." 

Maybe Stede shuddered then himself, or sighed, because Doctor Bonnet placed a bookmark in his book and looked directly at his son. 

"Stede. Go take a look at yourself." He nodded over at the ornately-framed mirror on the wall. "I'm being quite literal. Go."

Wary, Stede did as he was told.

“I don’t say this to be unkind, Stede, so please try to limit your… histrionics. There are people in this world who are blessed with charm, or wit, or strength of character. Some are nice to look at. Although you are not one of those people, you are blessed in other ways. When people look at you, do you know what they see?"

Stede looked in the mirror and saw unruly red-blonde hair, a prominent nose and gangly limbs, but he knew better than to interrupt his father's monologue.

"Wealth, Stede. They see wealth, and position, and a young man who lacks the good sense to have earned either for himself. You're a target, do you understand? You've never been discerning enough. Even as a boy, you'd latch onto anybody who smiled at you or gave you a sweet, not thinking for a moment of their motivation."

"Well, I don't think that's-" Stede started to say, but his father pressed on.

"Mary is from a good family. Her parents and I agree that the match will be to both of your advantages. And she's all but guaranteed. For goodness' sake, Stede, show some gratitude."

By 1951 they were engaged. That summer, only two weeks after Mary's graduation, Stede said the words and lifted the veil and kissed her on the altar. He put a ring on her finger and she put one on his; the ring that he would desperately try to twist off, hunched over the kitchen sink, eight years later.

"Doctor Bonnet?" 

Stede blinked himself back into the present. He looked down at his hands. The gold of his ring reflected the lamplight like a signal flare. "Please, continue."

"Has your wife incurred any bad debts or hidden money problems from you?"

"Nothing like that. Money is never an issue."

“Has she developed any bad habits- drunkenness, maybe, or gambling?” the Swede asked, like a game show host moving to a new category, determined to give away the sponsor’s money.

Stede shook his head.

Lars Larsson took a fortifying breath. “Forgive me, but- I do see that there are no children? Is your wife frigid, Mister Bonnet?"

The question sounded tinny and distant, like it was coming from a television left on in another room. Stede pressed his fingernails into his palms. "Frigid, did you say?"

It could've been much worse, really. Mary understood Stede's career, and even wanted one of her own- a wish that Stede was happy to grant. He even thought that maybe love could grow between them, in time.

It never did. 

Every fumbling night that was supposed to bring them closer together only widened the gap between them. Stede would apologize, and then Mary would apologize, and then Stede would promise himself that next time would be different.

"Next time" became more abstract, then it became a topic to be avoided, and then one night Stede realized with embarrassing relief that Mary hadn't asked for his touch in over a year.

He wasn't immune to the lure of romance- who didn't swoon when they saw From Here to Eternity? 

But in his own life, he found he longed for romance less and less as every day went by, until finally, he understood what his father had tried to help him see those years ago: Stede Bonnet simply wasn't made for love.

To his horror, Stede realized that he was blinking back tears.

"Look," he said with a cold, professional clip, desperate to win back his dignity. "I'll be frank with you, Mister Larsson. Mary and I never had anything resembling a real marriage. We entered into a contract and now I'd like to dissolve it. That's my right. Tell me when to come to court and I'll be there. Tell me what to say, and I'll say it. I'll say anything at all. I'll testify in Ecclesiastical Latin, if you'd like.  But I simply cannot answer any more of these horrible questions today."

The Swede took pity. "Well, all right then? Your court date is slated for July 28." Six weeks to the day. "I'll remind you not to leave the county during that time? Herbert Packer is a good man and the courts know him, you won't have any trouble with his testimony. Speak to my girl on the way out about scheduling our next meeting, will you?"

++

The sidewalk soaked up the bright Nevada sun and reflected it back at Stede as he stepped outside. He dabbed his forehead with his handkerchief and checked his watch. How was it possible that he had only been in Lars Larsson's office for forty minutes? He had over two hours to spend before Ed would pick him up at the library, and he was already in such a state.

Of course, Stede could always take the bus back to Orange Sky. It was an easy enough route- he had the bus schedule and map tucked in his briefcase, courtesy of Walter. He could be peacefully locked away in that leaf-dappled bedroom in half an hour, if he walked to the bus stop now.

On the other hand, what if Ed came to the library to find him and he wasn't there? Would he worry? Stede would feel awful. Despite his terrible taste in friends, Ed had been so nice to spend time with back at the ranch, and Stede would hate to upset him.

Stede could just picture it- sitting in his room, maybe reading in bed, then hearing a knock, hard and desperate. 'Come in,' he'd say, innocent as anything, and then the door would fly open to reveal Ed. He'd look a little breathless, like maybe he'd run right out of that pickup truck and up the stairs. 'Stede,' he'd say, with his hand pressed to his chest with relief, 'I looked everywhere for you.'

No, that wouldn't do at all. Stede was blushing with guilt at the very idea of worrying his new possible friend. 

He realized all at once that he was still standing stock-still in front of the law offices. It was only ten in the morning, and Stede was already utterly exhausted. 

Well, at least he had the library to look forward to.

The library atrium, surrounded by long, curving bookshelves, was empty except for Stede, one single attendant, and a few ambitious flies. 

The attendant- he seemed a bit too young to be a proper librarian- sat at the checkout desk with an oversized book of art prints propped up in front of him. From where Stede was standing, he looked like he was copying the work into a sketchbook.

The library's collection was not impressive. There were plenty of popular novels, and several shelves dedicated to this month's magazines, but virtually no critical works or essays. In fact, the majority of the library's space was dedicated to storing municipal records: births, deaths, marriages, divorces, marriages, divorces, marriages…

But books of any kind delighted Stede, and he might have been tempted to spend an hour hunting through the stacks for buried treasure, had he not been uncomfortably aware of the young attendant, who was watching him with frank suspicion.

The attendant's eyes followed Stede as he made his selection, but when Stede approached with the books he'd chosen, the young man was suddenly absorbed in his sketching again.

"Pardon me," Stede began. The attendant ignored him. "I'd like to take out these two."

"Mmm, give me one minute, can you?" He kept sketching, tilting his head to assess his own work. Stede was too shocked by the poor service to argue. 

Just as Stede worked up the courage to speak again, the young man snapped his sketchbook shut. He had a dark pompadour and fashionable sideburns, no doubt imitating one of the rock-and-roll stars of the day, with an attitude to match.

"Have you got a card?" His voice, like his face, showed off a carefully-crafted mix of boredom and disdain.

"No, I haven't."

"Are you a permanent resident?"

"No."

"All right, then." He pulled an application form out of a nearby folder and slid it across the counter without looking up. "Fill it out, return it, and you can pick up your library card after the processing period."

Stede frowned. "And how long is the processing period?" 

"Six weeks."

The last hope Stede had of salvaging his day vanished in the wind. 

"Six weeks?" He sputtered. "There are four questions on this application!"

"That's our policy. Six week waiting period unless you're local. Transients can't take books out of the building."

Stede gasped in horror. "I'm not a transient, mate! I'm… visiting. "

"Yes, sir," the young man agreed calmly, "we get plenty of visitors here. We used to lose 40% of all checked books. We can't afford that."

"No, I suppose you can't. But-"

"This is a taxpayer-funded library, sir. It's an invaluable resource for the young minds of Washoe County." 

"I couldn't agree more, and if you could-"

"So that's why we have a policy, you understand?" The young man squinted up at Stede, daring him to object again.

"Yes, of course," Stede agreed weakly, "I understand."

One raised eyebrow was enough for the young man to signal his victory. "You're welcome to read here as long as you like, of course. The Washoe County Library is here to serve your needs." He gave a sour little smile, then turned his attention back to his notebook.

But as Stede turned toward the cluster of armchairs by the window, the young man spoke again. "Where are you from? You sound European."

Stede hesitated. "Not European, I'm afraid. I'm visiting from Chicago."

The young man's eyes widened in recognition, an expression so different from his previous disinterest that Stede was taken aback. "Sure, I've read about it! The Art Institute, right? Do you ride the train?"

Stede nodded. "Every day."

"Neat-o."

"I suppose it is pretty… neat-o?" Stede agreed.  The young man scrunched his face and shook his head, rejecting Stede's attempt at slang.

"I've never even left Nevada, if you can believe it," the young man sighed dramatically. Stede could absolutely believe it, but he kept his mouth shut. "I don't belong here. I'm an artist, you know. Portraits and landscapes. And I'm a writer. And I type."

"A triple-threat." Stede offered, still hoping that getting in this man's good graces might be rewarded with a library card.

The young man gave a satisfied gasp. "That's exactly what I say! I'm telling you, I am wasting my talents in this illiterate town.  But not for long. By this time next year, I'll be in California."

He said the word California with the reverence that ancient explorers must have saved for El Dorado or Heracleion . 

Stede beamed. "What a coincidence! I'm moving to California in July."

The young man leaned forward eagerly at his desk, eyes glittering. "Where in California?"

"Um. Claremont? Not far from Los Angeles." He was fairly certain that was true. Honestly, Stede had been in such a hurry to begin his new life that he hadn't done much research.

"That's where we want to go! Well, Los Angeles or San Francisco. Or maybe San Diego.We haven't decided yet." Stede's eyes glazed over as the young man rattled off the details of his great escape.

Soon Stede was inching his way toward the armchairs. "I think I'll just-" he gestured in that direction and dashed away, ready at long last to relax and read.

There really was nothing that soothed Stede like disappearing into a good book, and he happily let real life go and dipped into a novel set in ancient Rome. He quite lost track of time until, for the second time that day, his reading was interrupted by Ed Teach. 

"Must be a good book," Ed said, a deep rumble wrapping around his voice as he tried to stay quiet. Stede yelped, every bit as undignified as he had been earlier that morning. 

With laughing eyes, Ed brought one finger to his lips. "Shhhhhhh."

Stede glanced around guiltily, but the young attendant was nowhere to be found. Still, he kept his voice low. "How long have you been waiting there?"

"A bit," Ed said vaguely. "Grab your books, professor. Let me take you home."

"Yes, all right" Stede stood to obey. Then he stopped. "No!" Ed looked startled. "I mean- I can't take the books, I haven't got a library card."

"You can't open one?"

"You'd think so, wouldn't you?" Stede sniffed, and for some reason, Ed smiled at that. "No… no, I'll have to leave the books here."  

"You can't just leave that one, you're halfway through already." Ed pointed out, and Stede felt a rush of- gratitude, he supposed, at being understood. 

Stede bit his lip as he considered his options. "Well. I can't imagine you have a library card, do you?"

It was the wrong thing to say, Stede knew it the minute Ed's eyebrows shot to the top of his head  "Oh, you can't imagine it?" he drawled. Heat flooded Stede's face and he knew he must be blushing as he stuttered out an apology. Ed crossed his arms, unmoved. "Real nice way to butter up a guy that I'm guessing you're about to ask for a favor." 

Ed was right, he was being awful.  Stede could just die.

The young attendant chose that moment to walk back in, pushing a book cart. Stede gestured at him desperately. "I only meant- this young man here said-”

Ed's focus shifted, thank goodness. "Oh, hey, Lou!"

The attendant- Lou, apparently- stopped his tracks. His eyes bounced between Stede and Ed for a moment ,and he had the most peculiar expression on his face. Stede didn't know what to make of it.  

"Hmm. Morning, Ed. I didn't realize he was your new friend." 

"Ah, Stede's a guest at the ranch!" Ed said quickly. "I'm just here to pick him up. I mean, to take him home. Take him back to the ranch."

It stung a little to hear how quickly Ed corrected Lou when he called them friends. Then again, Stede insulted Ed, didn't he? Unintentionally, but still- he couldn't blame Ed for not wanting to be his friend. 

“Ed, I didn’t mean, with the library card- I only meant-”

Without any warning at all, Ed reached for Stede's shoulder and squeezed it. Like it was natural, easy. Like they were friends. Startled, Stede glanced down at the hand- close enough that Stede could see dark hairs on Ed's knuckles and the back of his hand, disappearing up the black of his sleeve.

Stede blinked himself back to attention. He was being stared at by Ed and Lou, but Ed was- smiling?

 "I was just pulling your leg, man. I knew what you meant." Yes, that was definitely a smile crinkling the corners of Ed's eyes. He dropped Stede's shoulder- his grip was warm- and reached for the book he was holding instead, sliding it right out of his hands. "C'mon, I want to see what you've got."  

Stede saw another inscrutable look pass over Lou's face when he caught a glimpse of the book Ed took from Stede. Young people and their attitudes.

"Listen, Lou," Ed's voice suddenly sounded deeper, slower, more like it had on the radio. "Stede here just wants to check out a few books. Isn't there anything you can do for him? For me?"

Lou put his hands on his hips. "How do you know he's not going to skip town in the middle of the night?"

"He wouldn't do that. Would you, Stede?" Stede shook his head solemnly. "See? I'll vouch for him."

Stede was touched. "Awfully kind of you, Ed."

"Yes, sir, that's Ed for you," Lou said flatly,  "He's an awfully kind guy." His eyes flicked between them again, and then he conceded. "Fine. He'll have to sign a No Card Present slip. Come on, both of you!" and he turned on his heel.

+++

The tick-tick-tick of the clock in Stede's room was much louder than it had been last night, he was sure of it. And the fan, too, for that matter. On Monday night, Stede had drifted off to sleep on the calming ocean waves of Ed's radio show, but tonight he stared at the back of his sleep mask like a condemned man stares at his jail cell.

It took him ages to finally fall asleep, and when he did, he dreamed vivid dreams.

All the books were gone.

The library shelves stood empty, picked bare like the carcass of some poor animal in the desert. 

Standing alone in the middle of the library with his thumbs hooked into his belt loops, watching Stede from across the room, was Ed. 

The humming halogen lights were gone, too, and Ed was in a cage of afternoon sunlight, glowing from the warmth of it. 

 Stede was standing in front of Ed, now, just outside of the sunshine, close enough to touch. He looked down at himself and saw that he was wearing clothes identical to Ed's- black jeans, black leather boots and a soft black shirt with a spread-winged bird of prey embroidered on the chest. 

He was sure, in the way Stede was always so sure in dreams, that Ed had something that belonged to him.

Something important.

"Turn out your pockets," he ordered, but Ed shook his head.

"Please," he added, and that did the trick. Without breaking eye contact, Ed slipped his fingers into the right front pocket of his jeans. Stede gasped when he saw what he found there- a familiar band of gold.

Stede's own wedding ring.

He didn't have to look down to know that his hand was bare. 

Ed took a long step out of the sunlight, closer to Stede, until they stood almost chest-to-chest. Silently, Ed reached his hand between them, barely brushing Stede's hip, and tucked the ring into Stede's own front pocket.

Right where it belonged.

"There's more," Stede said, still so sure. "Keep going."

Obediently, Ed's hand dipped into his front left pant pocket. When he pulled out another gold ring, Stede held his breath. Sure enough, Ed pushed the ring into Stede's matching pocket, but this time, he hooked two fingers into Stede's belt and took a step back, pulling Stede with him, back into the square of sunlight at the center of the library.

The warmth was incredible.

"Don't stop," Stede breathed, and Ed reached behind himself this time. Stede watched Ed's shoulder twist and flex as his hand moved out of sight, dipping into his own back pocket to pull out another ring. 

Stede's heart pounded, knowing what was coming next, and yes- Ed snaked his arm behind him, standing impossibly close now, and slid the ring into Stede's back pocket. 

Stede stared past Ed, looking straight ahead at the empty bookshelves. He was afraid to look at Ed's face when he was standing so near. Afraid of what he might see there. Afraid of something else, too, though he didn’t know what. But he wasn't surprised when he felt Ed's left hand brush down his back and into his pocket, tucking something precious there.

Four pockets, four rings.

But there was one more, Stede was sure.

He stepped back, away from Ed but still in the warm sunlight. Ed watched silently, sagely, as Stede considered where the final ring might be.

"Give it to me," he demanded, and the corners of Ed's eyes wrinkled in amusement. He shook his head again.

Stede stepped closer.

Fearlessly, he lifted his hands, smoothing them across Ed's chest, feeling the patch pocket there for a tell-tale bump. He felt it again, just in case. Nothing.

Ed was so warm in the sunlight.

All at once, Stede was sure. Now he couldn't take his eyes away from Ed's face, still neutral, even while Stede traced the edge of his neck, his jaw.

Stede’s fingers were steady as they explored the soft line of Ed's closed lips, warm and wet and lovely.

"Give it to me, Ed," Stede repeated. "It's mine."

Ed's lips parted. 

Stede saw a flash of gold, sunlight glinting off of the ring resting on Ed's tongue, waiting for him, ready for him, and when Stede's fingers pushed

inside

For the first time in years, Stede woke up achingly hard.

He tried deep breathing, willing the moment to pass. When it became clear that the only way out was through , he sat up groggily and stumbled into the bathroom. 

It always went faster if he thought about it mechanically, Stede had learned as an adolescent. Less about desire, and more about the needs of his body, like scratching an itch, or rolling out a cramped muscle. So he willed his mind to go blank as he took himself in hand, focusing only on the sensation of skin on skin.

Pressing his backside against the edge of the sink, he narrowed the focus of his mind to the pressure, the rhythm, the motion against the palm of his hand. 

His mind wandered, though, still half-asleep despite the urgency of his need. Random images interrupted his concentration; Ed sliding a book out of his hands, the way his hands danced over the steering wheel of his truck, his thumb restlessly tracing the rim of his coffee cup that morning. 

Stede took a gasping breath. He needed to focus. He needed to turn his attention back to his body. Just his body. Banish any thoughts of the world outside, or hazy ideas of hands slipping into pockets. Two fingers sliding under a leather belt, hooking, tugging, pulling, leading. 

"More," he whispered to himself, his voice echoing back against the tile, "I-"

Stede's hand sped up as he squirmed and adjusted his grip. He needed to forget everything but the feeling of his own fingers flying over his cock, his own fingers, soft and uncalloused, not-

Stop.

He was leaking so much already, and the way was slick. Could be slicker, with wet fingers. Like in a dream, there was a dream, wasn't there, and Ed opened his-

The orgasm hit Stede like a freight train, unexpectedly, crashing through his body before he could muffle his cry.

+++

Stede cleaned himself with shaking hands and slunk back to bed. 

By the time he returned to sleep, the details of his dream were long forgotten. 

Chapter Text

Wednesday, June 24, 1959

The lights were still on at Benji's Barroom. That was the important thing. 

There was a time that Benji's felt like a miracle, at least to Ed, like a tiny pocket of a dull world that was lively and vibrant and fearless. 

Nowadays, of course, fearlessness was a luxury that the patrons of Benji's couldn't afford. The bar was officially under the protection of the toughest casino owner in town, but even Spanish Jackie couldn't keep the vice squads away forever if the Feds decided to pick up that particular cause again.

So the music was quieter and the lights were dimmer, but by God, the lights were still on. Izzy had made a promise the day Benji was sentenced and taken away- his bar would be waiting for him when he got out.

If there was anybody who could run a bar on sheer stubbornness, it was Izzy Hands. He had already been living and breathing the bar for a decade when Benji was taken away, and besides, he didn't have to do it alone.

On Friday mornings, Fang would come haul the deliveries inside and stock the shelves. Ivan did the books on Tuesdays, when the bar was closed.  And every Wednesday afternoon, rain or shine, Ed dropped in for maintenance.

"Maintenance" sometimes meant tinkering with the boiler or the toilets or the jukebox, and sometimes it just meant listening to Izzy piss and moan about whichever poor fool got on his bad side that week.

Today, it meant installing new lights. Ed climbed the rickety ladder up to the satin-draped ceiling while Izzy paced below, wringing his hands and preparing for catastrophe.

"The fuck did I think I was doing? First proper fucking concert in four years, and it’s going to look like absolute crap.  Frenchie and the boys will be dodging falling microphone stands all night. And- and are those water stains up there!? Fucking disaster."

"Izzy, Izzy, Izzy," Ed soothed in a sing-song voice, "Put some fucking imagination into it. We get these colored lights going. We put something froofy around the back to hide the stains- flowers or whatever. I'll tighten the screws in the mic stands if you think it'll help. Come the Fourth of July, this place is going to look as good as it ever has."

Izzy made a dubious noise in the back of his throat. "Not flowers." he said at last. "Ferns."

"Sure, ferns." Ed groped the air and Izzy dutifully put a lightbulb in his hand. "Will Jackie be here on the Fourth?"

"With fuckin' bells on.” Izzy ground out. “This place had better look better than it ever has, for what she's put into the place." 

Ed grunted in agreement and twisted the heavy bulb in place.

"So tell me, Edward- have you slept with him?"

The lightbulb tumbled out of Ed's hand, and it took an undignified scramble on Ed's part to save it from shattering on the floor. 

"Who?" He tried to keep his voice steady.

"Whatever twat you've been mooning over all week. The one from Herb's ranch."

"He's not a twat, and it's not like that, Iz. We're just talking."

These days, they were always talking. It started out with lots of excuses. Ed knocked on Stede's door because he thought Stede might be the owner of the hat Ed found on the porch. A blatant lie, but they ended up chatting for thirty minutes about the book Stede was reading. The next day, Stede asked him how to read the bus schedule, so of course Ed offered him a ride instead. The day after that, Ed was out putting up a new fence around the stables, and Stede turned out to be the perfect person to sit nearby and tell him if his posts were going in straight.  And then they stopped looking for excuses, and spent their free time together for no reason at all.

At first, Stede was easily spooked and jumpy, but once he learned how to relax- a little, at least- everything had been easy as pie between them. It was always easy, and it was usually interesting, and every now and then Ed would ask Stede just the right question, maybe about a book or a shirt or a fucking bug and Stede's eyes would light up in this just-right way that made Ed melt, right down to his core.

"Yeah," Ed repeated. "We're just talking."

Izzy always could see right through Ed. "You don't look like somebody who's just talking. You look like you're playing with fire. Do you even know if he's gay? Has he given you signs?"

Ed brought his hand to his lips, running his mind back through the days. He knew the type of sign Izzy meant. Codes and lingering looks and dropped hints. 

Lingering looks- well, there were plenty of those. Stede was either completely brazen or totally clueless, the way he let himself look. Ed's chest fluttered remembering a chance encounter in the middle of the night. Ed was in the kitchen grabbing a midnight snack and Stede came down to make tea. Stede was wearing a silky-looking robe around his pajamas and Ed was in a white cotton undershirt. Poor Stede couldn't make it more than a minute without raking his eyes over Ed's bare forearms.

"Signs. Yeah, I think so. Maybe." He ran his hand over his jaw. "Iz, I don't think I could feel this way about somebody who doesn't feel it, too."

Izzy stumped out his cigarette and looked up at Ed. "Sometimes I forget how fucking young you are, kid."

"I'm thirty-two," Ed protested, realizing even as he spoke how childish he sounded. 

"Are you sure this isn't because of Jack and Annie and the baby?" Izzy asked, as he thumped a fresh cigarette out of the pack.

Ed laughed and fished his Zippo out of his pocket. He leaned down from the ladder to light Izzy's cigarette for him, an old habit. "Jack and me are ancient history, mate. This is just about Stede." 

Izzy's eyebrow raised at the name.

"Stede Bonnet." Ed expanded, and grinned. "Even saying his name makes me want to smile. And he's from New Zealand, did I tell you that?"

The look Izzy sent him was withering. "Yes, you fucking well told me that. You told everybody. Twice." Izzy scowled. "Why does it matter? I've got a hometown, too, but I don't drop trou and bend over every time I see a familiar fucking face."

"Not anymore, maybe," Ed muttered under his breath as he carefully dropped the old light bulb down. Izzy caught it with one hand and flipped the bird with the other.

"It's not just because he's from home," Ed added quickly. "I've never met anybody like him. Not ever. I can never guess the shit that's gonna come out of his mouth. The things he knows , Iz, my God. And the things he doesn't know- can you believe he had never heard of Patsy Cline? Fucking incredible, man." 

Izzy grumbled noncommittally and handed another light up, and for a while, Ed worked in silence, trying to figure the best way to ask the question that was rattling around in his head. 

When the work was done, he hopped off of the ladder and draped himself over it, resting his chin on his crossed arms. He looked at Izzy through the rungs. "Iz? You had plenty of other guys before you met Ben, right?"

The question made Izzy's whole body go rigid. "The fuck does that have to do with anything?"

"It's only - how did you know he was it for you?" Ed shook his head and tried again. "When did you figure that you and Ben were, you know… you and Ben?"

"You've known this man for a week, Edward."

"Ten days," Ed corrected, "and we're not talking about him right now. We're talking about you and Ben."

Emotions flickered across Izzy's face like candlelight- joy, grief, longing. "Me and Ben." He let his eyes close as he brought his hand to the center of his chest, where Ed knew two sets of dog tags hung under his shirt. 

"Fuck. I just knew one night. Nothing special about it; we'd already been screwing around for a while, when we could. One night we were standing watch together- can't remember where, so don't ask- and I felt his eyes on me. I turned around and, huh." Izzy cleared his throat. "The way he was looking at me, it was like he… it was like he reached into my chest and turned on the lights."

Hesitantly, Ed stepped around the ladder and squeezed Izzy's shoulder. Izzy covered Ed's hand with his own and squeezed back for half a second before peeling him off with practiced disdain.

"Enough melodrama for one afternoon, I think," Izzy's voice was hoarser than usual. "Just- don't be stupid, Edward. You've got to be careful."

"Careful?" Ed smirked. "The man who fell in love with his C.O. on a torpedo boat flotilla is telling me to be careful?"

"Shut up," Izzy muttered. Izzy never talked about the war. It was all Ben- he was the type of guy who told stories when he drank, and his best stories were all about Iz. 

Ed kept going. "The man who showed up in Reno to find his guy after the war- no call, no letter- is telling me to be careful?"

Something changed in the air. Izzy took a fast step forward, caging Ed against the ladder. His face was as hard as Ed had ever seen it.

"The man who takes the bus downstate twice a month for prison visiting hours is telling you to be careful," Izzy spit out. "So be fucking careful , kid."

Ed was seventeen, and Izzy was catching him stealing liquor bottles from the back.

Ed was twenty-one, and Izzy was pulling him off of Jack, both of them bloody-knuckled and red-eyed.

Ed was twenty-eight, and Izzy was hissing at him to stop asking questions, shoving him out the back door of the barroom right as the cops' headlights flooded through the windows.

"You're right." 

"I know."

"I'm sorry."

The lines cutting across Izzy's forehead softened. "I know. Now fuck off."

+++

Monday June 29, 1959

"Nah, mate, I think you're full of it."

"I'm not!" Stede slapped his palms against the drugstore counter emphatically. 

Ed shook his finger at Stede in mock-sternness. "There is no chance that you saw a coyote back there. Coyotes don't come into town."

"They do!" Stede insisted. "Back in Chicago, just last year, a coyote walked into an Italian deli." 

Ed's jaw fell open. "You're lying."

"I am not! Right in the middle of the day, he climbed into into one of the coolers. I was there!" Stede met his eyes, and for a moment the two men stared at each other stone-faced, each daring the other not to laugh. Stede broke first, he did , but the way he twisted his mouth to stop the laugh was so ridiculous that Ed was the one who was roaring back with laughter. 

It's not like Ed was ignoring Izzy's advice. He was being careful. Sure, he was still spending time with Stede, but it was all strictly above-board. Wholesome, even. They did the crossword in the kitchen and they took long, public walks, and look at them now, laughing at the ice cream counter at Woolworth's, feet dangling off of the stools like a couple of kids.

Of course it was all making Ed lose his mind. Stede Bonnet was either the most brazen flirt in Nevada or the most repressed idiot in the world, and the odds on that match updated several times a day.

Either way, Ed had decided, was all right by him. Whatever he had going on with Stede was such a change of pace, such a bright spot in his day, it didn't matter if Ed never got to hear him moan. Hearing him laugh could be enough. Probably.

The waiter, a young kid around Walter's age, stopped in to ask if they needed anything else, in that tone that obviously meant 'please take your laughter elsewhere'. Stede reached for his wallet, but Ed had his coins on the counter first. 

"Nuh-uh, mate, this one's on me. I insist." he added when Stede opened his mouth to protest.

"Well, if you insist…" Stede allowed.

"I do. We're celebrating. You've been in Reno for two weeks today." Ed raised his milkshake in salute.

Stede laughed and raised his own, clinking it against Ed's. "Two weeks down and four to go!"

Ed's smile dimmed a fraction. Stede was counting down the days until he could leave. Of course he was. People came to Reno so that they could leave, Stede was no different, and that was fine. It was just fine.

"You all right, Ed?" Stede's mouth was twisted in worry. 

"Course," Ed grinned, trying to mean it. "So what comes next for Stede Bonnet, Single Man?"

The question seemed to take Stede aback. "Well, I won't be single, will I?" 

Ed felt a sharp twist in his gut. "What do you mean?"

"I don't think I'll ever be single again. I'll be divorced," Stede mused, "and that's different somehow, I think. Taxonomically speaking." He smiled self-consciously.

"I guess you're right. Haven't really thought of it much."

"Well, you never had to." Stede winced then, and his face and neck blotched red with embarrassment. "I'm sorry, that was terribly insensitive. I don't even know- are you? I never asked, I suppose. Rude."

Ed had seen Stede get wound up like this before, but not in such a public place. He glanced around the room for a moment and then put a steadying hand on Stede's shoulder. "Stede, it's fine. You're all right. I'm having a nice time over here. Don't have a thing to apologize for."

"All I do is talk about myself… Stede muttered.

"Oh, shut up." Ed muttered back. Stede's eyes widened in surprise, but he stopped his agitated sounds. "You know that's not true. I reckon you've asked me more questions in the last couple weeks than anybody else has in years. But go ahead. Ask me anything you want." Ask me for the moon , Ed thought, and I'll catch it for you.

Stede took a steady breath, and then another. His face slowly relaxed, and with a little regret, Ed withdrew his hand. "Tell me, Ed, are you divorced?" he asked in a voice worthy of the nightly news.

"Gee, Stede, no, I'm not divorced," Ed responded in the same broadcast voice, satisfied when Stede crooked a smile.

"No wife, girlfriend?" Stede continued, brow furrowed.

"No and no." Ask me more, Ed willed, as if they weren't sitting at a drugstore counter. Ask me what I like. Ask me if I want you. Ask me for anything. "I'm single," he said instead. "Taxonomically speaking."

They both smiled then, and the topic was closed. At least, it should've been. Would've been, if Ed was being careful.

"So why d'you still wear your wedding ring?" he casually asked, and then took the last sip of his milkshake. 

Stede looked a little mortified then, his eyebrows creeping up to his hairline, his hands clutching tight around his frosty glass. "I cnnaidatoff" he mumbled.

"Sorry?" Ed cocked his head. 

"I said I can't take it off!" Stede hissed. "I've tried. It's stuck. I suppose I'll have to go to a jeweler and have it cut."

"Let me take a look." The words surprised Ed even as they came out of his mouth. What the hell was he doing? He didn't know the first thing about… ring removal. But it didn't matter, all of the sudden, because Stede was unquestioningly offering his hand to Ed.

It was perfectly innocent, the way he took Stede's hand. Friendly. At first touch, Stede's palm was cold from clutching his milkshake, but his skin warmed quickly under Ed's, and yeah, it was as soft as he had imagined. 

Ed didn't dare look at Stede's face to find out if the other man looked as wrecked as Ed felt, just from fingers dancing across palms. But they were both holding their breath when Ed ran the pad of his thumb over the band of gold. 

A twist of his fingers, a twitch, and it was finished.

"Well, I'll be damned." Ed hadn't expected it to work, but there he was with an empty gold ring in the palm of his hand. When he looked up at Stede, the man was frozen in place, lips parted in a surprised 'oh'.

"How did you do that?" he asked softly.

Ed had no idea. No idea at all. He shrugged. "I guess it was just time." 

He clutched the ring tight in his hand for a second before passing it back to Stede, who looked at it for a moment before carefully sliding it into his front pocket. 

It was like an arctic blast ran through Stede, the way he shivered and hunched into himself as soon as the ring was in his pocket. Unthinkingly, he raised his fingers up to his lips. "I'm sorry," he murmured from behind his hand, "It's silly, I'm experiencing the most profound sense of deja vu."

Ed didn't know what to say to that. His own heart was beating a little faster, just from the sight of Stede looking so shaken. He tried to shake it off, shooting Stede his most disarming grin and jerking his chin at their empty glasses. "Well, should we keep walking?"

"I'd like to sit here a while longer," Stede said quickly, clasping his hands in his lap. "Um. Take advantage of the air conditioning."

"Sure, mate," Ed agreed, bewildered. "It's hot out there."

+++

Their next stop was a western wear shop that Stede had spotted on the drive in. It was a high-toned kind of place, too expensive for Ed, really, but Stede was in heaven.

"Oh, look at these !" he exclaimed over a pair of spangled cream-colored cowboy boots, "very snazzy, don't you think?"

"Sure," Ed laughed, "You gonna sign up for the rodeo in those?"

Stede swatted away his teasing. "Are you ? I'm sure you'd be wonderful at it." 

Ed knew he meant it, too. "Yeah, probably would," he agreed easily. "Could do anything, if I wanted. Maybe one day." He lifted a wide-billed hat for Stede's consideration.

Stede rejected the hat with a firm shake of the head and moved on to a selection of bolo ties and neckerchiefs. 

"This is quite striking," Stede said at the sight of one particular bolo, a braid of jet-black leather brought together with a dramatic red stone.

Ed nodded his approval. "Try it on."

"Oh, not for me," he said, "I like this for you."

A shiver ran up Ed's spine. "I'm not really a jewelry kind of guy, Stede," he objected. "Or a tie kind of guy. Not- not like you."

Stede huffed. "Don't be ridiculous. I know you must like a little glamour, I've seen the way you keep your truck."

The truth in Stede's accusation struck Ed silent. Queen Anne- his Chevy- was his pride and joy, and keeping it gleaming and glossy even in the Nevada dust had always made Ed feel- well. It made him feel something just to the left of pride, an emotion Ed didn't know how to name. How did Stede see all that?

Stede took advantage of Ed's silence and slid the tie over his head. He adjusted it under Ed's collar and then drew his hands away- so quickly, too quickly- and stepped back to admire what he saw.

"You see?" he said, although Ed could barely hear him over the pounding of his heart, "You wear fine things well."

Ed turned to look at his reflection in the mirror. Without thinking, he brought his hand to his throat, and ran his hand down the leather braid. Stede was right again. He did wear it well. It looked right on him, in a way that finery never had before.

“You like it?" Stede sounded delighted, as if he'd made the damn thing.

"Yeah. Reckon I do."

"Oh, let me get it for you,” Stede said, the lunatic- “You paid for lunch, after all.”

Ed tore his eyes away from his reflection and looked at Stede, unbelieving. Friends didn’t buy jewelry for their friends, not like this. “Stede, mate- you know that’s not the same thing.”

“Still, I’d like to. If you’ll let me.” The look on Stede’s face was so guileless and honest that Ed was half-tempted to let him buy the damn thing, just to avoid disappointing him. 

Finally, he coughed out a response. “Didn’t realize Classics professors got paid so well.”

Stede waved his hand and stammered out something about 'very fortunate' and an inheritance from his grandmother and quarterly dividends, but Ed was too distracted by the way his cheeks pinked up to retain too many details. He got the gist- Stede Bonnet was as rich as he looked.

Even so- "I can't accept this, Stede. You can't just- it's too much." Ed loosened the tie and slid it off. Somewhere there was a line in the sand, and Ed knew that accepting a gift like that bolo would be crossing the line and then some. His heart clutched at the way Stede's shoulders slumped with disappointment. "It'll look better on you anyhow." he lied.

"You think so?" Stede perked up.

"Definitely, mate." Ed handed it to him, hating to let it go. "You should buy it for yourself."

Stede did buy the tie, and even wore it out of the store.  

Once Stede was satisfied with the day's shopping, Ed grudgingly agreed to take him to a casino. They walked to Harrah's in the blazing sun, and Ed caught Stede admiring his new bolo tie in his reflection every time they passed a mirrored surface- which was quite often, in Reno.

As they pulled open the casino doors, they were immediately battered by a wall of ice-cold air conditioning and the jangling sound of slot machines. "After you," they said in unison, and laughed.

An hour and forty-five minutes later, Ed shouldered the door back open, Stede silently trailing behind him.

"Told you you wouldn't like it," Ed grumbled over his shoulder.

"It doesn't make any sense , Ed," Stede snipped back, as if any of it was Ed's fault, "there is no strategy to those machines whatsoever! Why would somebody play any sort of game when there's no way to affect the outcome? Where's the pleasure in that?"

Ed rolled his eyes. "I told you you wouldn't like it!" he repeated, but this time he let fondness creep into his voice. It seemed like Stede took almost as much pleasure in complaining about things as he did in enjoying them.

Clock bells rang somewhere down the street, making Stede and Ed check their watches in unison.

"Is that really the time?" Stede wondered. "Gosh, this day has flown by."

"Casinos'll do that to you," Ed agreed, even though he knew that wasn't what Stede meant. It was the most time the two of them had spent together all at once- usually they just saw each other for a couple of hours at a time, talking after supper or between Ed's odd jobs. But today, they hadn't left each other's sides since breakfast. 

The whole day had passed so easily. Ed didn't want it to end.

"Hey, man," he said, suddenly self-conscious. "After supper tonight, I've got my radio show. You wouldn't want to come with me, would you? See the studio?"

Stede's eyes lit up. "Is that allowed?

Ed shrugged. "Who cares? Monday nights, the booth is mine. If I want you there…" he trailed off. He'd never taken anybody to the station before. He'd never wanted to before.

"If you really want me there," Stede echoed, "Then that's where I'll be."

+++

Back at the ranch, supper dragged on. After a wonderful day of nothing but Stede, making conversation with the rest of the guests at the ranch took effort. There were seven people sitting around the long table in the dining room- Ed and Stede, Walter and Herb, plus the other three ranch guests, Mr. Hornberry, Mr. Wellington and the newest arrival, a loud peacock of a man from Louisiana named Siegfried.

Toward the end of the meal, Mr. Hornberry invited Stede to join the rest of the guests for a game of poker.

"Ah, well," Stede's eyes met Ed's across the table, "I'm afraid I'm otherwise engaged- Mr. Teach has kindly invited me to tour the radio station tonight."

Walter gasped. "You gotta be kidding me!" he jabbed his forkful of ham in Ed's direction. "You always said you couldn't bring people over!"

Ah, shit, Ed did say that, didn't he?

"I can't bring kids," he responded, cool as anything, "Stede's an adult.

"That's bull, I'm almost eighteen!" Walter whined.

Herb smacked Walter on the shoulder. "Hey, language! Apologize to your brother."

Walter glared at his father, but muttered, "Sorry, Ed."

Ed didn't miss the uncomfortable little glances shared between the rest of the ranch guests, or the apologetic way Stede mouthed 'sorry' across the table as soon as he caught Ed's eye. Or the way Herb was carefully watching the whole thing.

"Hey, bud," he offered to his half-brother, "first thing after your birthday, I'll take you in. Heck, I'll let you choose a couple of songs."

Walter bounced back right away, the way kids could. "Really?"

"Sure."

+++ 

"Well, that's about it," Ed said as they walked into the booth. Stede took in the tour with wide eyes, ooh ing and ahh ing over the memorabilia even though Ed knew for a fact he had never heard of any of the musicians. 

They had just a few minutes until air. Carlton, the DJ in the coveted five-to-eight slot, had just left, and now Stede and Ed were alone.

"Make yourself comfortable," he gestured at the second chair in the corner. "I'm gonna grab a beer- want one?"

Stede's nose wrinkled up in that considering way he had. "I've never been much of a beer drinker," he said.

Ed chuckled. "Yeah, I kind of got that idea." He stepped out to the icebox and grabbed a beer for Stede anyway. Back in the booth, he tossed a can to Stede before opening one of his own. He passed the can opener over and watched with amusement as Stede carefully punctured two holes in the top of his can.

"I feel like one of my students," Stede observed after his first sip of beer.

"That's right- tonight, I'm the professor," Ed said, just to see if Stede would blush.

He did.

Ed coasted through his introduction and his first few songs. He tried to behave exactly as he normally would, but couldn't help shooting glances over his shoulder at his guest every few minutes. Stede was rapt, watching Ed cue up records and flip switches like it was the most fascinating thing in the world.

After Ed finished his first advertising break and introduced a new song, he rolled his chair around to face Stede.

"We've got two minutes and eleven seconds," he said. "You having a good time?"

"Ed, this is extraordinary. You look like you're conducting a symphony! So much goes into it- I had no idea, listening at home."

Now that was news to Ed. "You've listened to my show?" he asked, eyebrows raised.

"Sure," Stede looked down at the beer can in his hands. "Last week, and- and the night I arrived."

"Oh." 

Ed remembered that night, the way he couldn't shake Stede out of his head even then. Had it already been two weeks? Had it only been two weeks?

The moment hung heavy between them, until Stede cleared his throat. "So! When do I get to choose a song?"

Ed blinked. "What?"

"You told your half-brother he could choose songs when he came. Aren't you going to let me?" Stede took a sip of his beer, then wiped his lip, a motion created in a lab to drive Edward Teach well and truly insane.

"Ha- Stede, you don't know any music," he said bluntly, too focused on Stede's shining lips to think about tact.

There was a playful glint in Stede's eyes. "I have excellent instincts," he said, and how could Ed object to that? 

"You've got seventy seconds," he said, glancing at the clock, "pick fast."

Stede grinned and stood. He ran his fingertips over the edges of the records in the queue stacks, bouncing on his heels with urgency until he pulled one out and handed it over to Ed triumphantly.

"Nice taste, man," Ed said. "We just got that one in this week." In fact, he hadn't even listened to it yet. Still, he slid the record out of its cardboard cover and got it ready, while Stede settled eagerly back into his seat. When the last song faded out, he put on his headphones, flipped his microphone on and made the swap.

"This next one is dedicated to those music lovers out there on the cutting edge," he looked over his shoulder and winked at Stede, "A brand new record, already one of my favorites and sure to be one of yours, too - it's George Jones singing Take Me."

It started with a guitar, sweet and simple and slow. Ed kept his eyes ahead, bit he watched Stede through his reflection in the glass to see how he was liking it. Stede's eyes were closed, and when George starting singing, his lips twitched with a fraction of a smile.

Take me

Take me to your darkest room

Close every window and bolt every door

The very first moment I heard your voice

I'd be in darkness no more

Ed saw Stede's chest rise with a surprised breath. Funny, wasn't it, because Ed's heart jumped at just the same time. 

Take me

To your most barren desert

A thousand miles from the nearest sea

The very moment I saw your smile

It would be like heaven to me

Suddenly it was unbearable to watch Stede's reflection. It was too intimate, to see the way his brow creased and then relaxed at the lyrics. It was too real, to see his own feelings reflected on another man's face. Because they were the same feelings, Ed was sure now. 

With his heart full, he let his own eyes flutter closed and listened.

There's not any mountain to rugged to climb

No desert too barren to cross

Somewhere, if you would just show a sign of love

I could bear any loss

When his eyes opened again, Stede was already gazing at him. Through the reflection, their eyes met. And held. As if there was nowhere else to look. As if there was nothing else to see.

Take me to Siberia

And the coldest weather of the winter time

And it would be just like spring in California

As long as I knew you were mine

It was almost like staring at his own reflection. Stede's chest rose and fell in time with Ed's breaths. Stede's face shone with the same sincerity Ed felt. And their eyes never drifted apart, not even when the song faded out, leaving a silence so heavy Ed could feel it in his bones. 

For a long moment, they just sat like that, Ed at the console, Stede sitting behind him, both facing the same direction but perfectly face-to-face. Finally, Stede let out a shaky breath. "Ed," he began, his voice ringing like a bell in the quiet booth.

"Shit!"

All at once, Ed remembered where they were. He pivoted to his microphone and flipped the switch. "That was a new one from George Jones! Coming up next, an old favorite from, ah…" he desperately fumbled through the queue, "...Tennessee Ernie Ford."

As soon as the new record was playing, Ed spun around. Stede was already out of his chair, but he wasn't looking at Ed at all. He was heading for the door. "I'd like another beer, I think," he said, looking anywhere but at Ed, his voice bright with false bravado, "can I get you one?"

"Stede-" Ed was brought up short by the tight smile plastered on the other man's face. Having just seen Stede so open and honest, seeing the wall go up so quickly stung. "Yeah. Another beer would be swell. Thanks."

The song finished, and Stede wasn't back. 

Ed put on another record and waited. And waited. 

When that song ended, Ed read through his scripted ad break, not paying any attention to what he was saying. 

The booth had never felt so big before, or so empty. Ed found the longest song he could get away with playing and introduced it.

He was a breath away from getting up when the door clicked open, and Stede pushed his way back in.

He had a beer can in each hand, as promised, but his eyes were swollen and red. Still, he gave a meek smile as he handed Ed his drink.

Ed had no clue what to do now, none at all. He wanted to soothe the worry on Stede's forehead. He wanted to shake Stede by the shoulders and demand to know exactly what he wanted. He wanted to press Stede against the wall and demonstrate exactly what he wanted.

He wanted to scream.

Instead, he thanked Stede for the beer and got back to work.

For the second hour of his set, Ed kept the music light- Jean Shepard and Roger Miller, no more songs about love, or longing, or a man sitting four feet away but putting miles between you with his eyes. Every now and then he'd crack a joke at Stede, or pull a face while he was on the mic, and slowly the tension leeched away from Stede's shoulders.

The beers helped, too.

By the time eleven rolled around, Stede was unsteady on his feet. Ed counted the cans- three were his, but Stede had managed to drain a fourth along the way.

"I'm sorry, I think the beers snuck up on me," he apologized for the third time as he sat back down. Even stumbling drunk, his voice was crisp and clear. "I'm really not a beer drinker, you know."

"I know that, mate. Let's get you home now, all right?" KOH stopped broadcasting after eleven on Mondays, so at least there wasn't anybody else around to see this.

"You're so nice to me. Why are you always so nice to me?" Stede looked up at Ed through light lashes and honest-to-god pouted.

Ed took a deep breath and mentally apologized to all the men he'd ever toyed with. "Because we're friends," he ground out at last, and offered Stede his hand.

Stede took it with his left hand. Ed thought for a moment about the wedding ring that had been on that hand only a few hours ago then hauled Stede up. 

He rose to his feet at last, standing toe-to-toe with Ed. His gaze flicked down to Ed's lips, and- 

Nope, Ed was plenty reckless but he wasn't stupid. This wasn't happening at the radio station, and not with a man who was both very drunk and very married, no matter that Ed slid his wedding ring off himself. 

He dropped Stede's hand like a hot potato and turned toward the door. "You good to go?" he asked. But Stede grabbed the crook of Ed's elbow and steered him back around.

"Mmmm, not just yet."

Stede's hands fluttered to his own neck. To his new bolo tie. He ran his fingers over the red stone, then rolled the leather cord between his fingers. 

"I wanted to buy it for you , Ed," he murmured. "You- you know that, don't you?"

Ed swallowed. "I guess so," he said. He wondered if Stede's chest was pounding half as hard as his. He didn't move to find out. 

"I'm awfully drunk, Ed." 

"I know."

"I'm sorry."

"Hey," Ed covered Stede's hand with his own, "enough apologizing. Let's get you home."

+++

"You must think I'm a fool." Stede slurred across the bench seat as Ed drove them back to the ranch. 

Ed shook his head. "I think you're drunk."

Something between a giggle and a sigh slipped out of Stede's lips. "I am drunk. But I'm glad I'm drunk. I wouldn't be brave enough to be doing this if I wasn't."

Ed froze. He wasn't ready to believe that he had heard correctly. "Doing what?"

Stede didn't respond.

Ed needed an answer. He had to be sure- really, truly sure- before he lost his mind. "What are you doing, Stede?" 

"Ed," Stede murmured, soft as silk. " Edward . I think you know exactly what we're doing."

The words hung between them for a long moment. When Ed spoke, his voice was low in his throat.

"Yeah. Yeah, reckon I do." 

Then they were both silent and still, like something precious was in the car with them and had to be handled carefully. Ed didn't look away from the road, scared that if he faced Stede for even a moment, the fondness on his face would shine too bright, cast too hard a shadow. 

So Ed rolled the words around in his head before speaking. He wanted to get them right, these feelings that had been beating against his chest like a moth at the window. "Stede, these past two weeks… have been the most fun I've had in ages. Years. Maybe ever." 

Stede gasped. It wasn't gentle, exactly. It almost sounded like-

Ed mustered up every ounce of his courage and looked right at Stede Bonnet.

Stede was fast asleep, lips parted, cheek resting gently on the window of the Chevy.

Of course.

Ed had to laugh- quietly, of course- then let out a shaky breath. 

"You're killing me, sweetheart." he muttered. 

He made sure the drive home was smooth.

Chapter Text

Friday, July 3, 1959

Wellington held his glass of champagne aloft, a smile on his face as he proposed a toast. "To Mr. Hornberry!" he exclaimed, beaming as he looked around the room.

"To no longer being held hostage," Hornberry added, with a wry twist.

"Hear, hear!" Wellington said, and downed his glass.

It was Albert Hornberry's last night in Reno. He'd been in court only a few hours before. In fact, his was the last divorce hearing on Friday afternoon, heading into a long Fourth of July weekend. Tomorrow morning, the eastbound train would take him home to Omaha.

He'd invited the rest of the ranch guests for a celebratory drink, which is how Stede found himself forcing pleasantries with three men who were not particularly pleasant.

Mr. Hornberry worked in advertising. Mr. Wellington traveled the country selling life insurance. And Siegfried, (as far as Stede could tell,) moved money around for other wealthy men in Louisiana. For the most part, they left Stede alone, which was perfectly fine by him.

Tonight, Stede mostly kept quiet and made appreciative noises as Wellington and Hornberry cursed the institution of marriage. Siegfried already had another woman waiting for him back in New Orleans, ready to marry him the minute he was unattached, but that didn't stop him from lustily describing all the women he'd met already in the Reno nightclubs.

"What about you, Doctor Bonnet?" Siegfried asked. "Have you got a buxom blonde waiting for you on the beach in California?"

"Ah, no, not at this time," he ducked his head and hoped for a change in topic, "and you really don't have to call me Doctor Bonnet-"

The sound of another bottle popping open interrupted his thought. "Another glass, fellows?" Hornberry offered.

Stede declined, against the protests of his fellow guests. "The last time I overindulged," he explained, "the hangover was almost more than I could bear."

The hangover, the embarrassment, and above all, the uncertainty— all lay like a dark cloud of regret over the last few days.

Ed saw to him, of course. He'd hardly laughed at all when he saw Stede's sorry state- instead, he sent Walter to the drugstore for a bottle of Quaff-Aid and made sure that Stede was undisturbed all day. But laying in the dark for hours on end just gave Stede time to relive everything he could remember- and imagine everything he couldn't.

He remembered a song. A man's voice, a simple melody, and lyrics that felt like they were being drawn out of Stede's own heart. He remembered Ed's reflection, almost colorless in the dim glass. Ed's eyes, Ed's breath, and the feeling of being caught . 

He remembered a surge of powerful emotion, guilt and shame and much-too-much, and then the blood rushed in Stede's ears like it always did before he lost his composure. Then- everything went hazy. He remembered fleeing the scene. He remembered his shoulders shaking against the icebox, the heels of his hands pressing against his eyes as his mind desperately reached for everything and nothing— anything to crowd out the panic rising in his chest. 

He remembered drinking; First one beer chugged in secret in the kitchenette, enough to give him the courage to return to Ed's booth. Then more. After that, just flashes. Ed's arm warm around his ribs as he helped Stede to the Chevy. The happy hum of the truck under his legs. Something about the bolo tie- 

Inevitably, the more Stede tried to remember, the more agitated he grew, until he resolved to stop thinking about it altogether. It couldn't have been as bad as all that, anyhow- after that first, long day of agony, Ed was as kind to him as ever. Although- maybe- he was a little busier with work, these last few days. Out more often in the evening, which was his right, of course, even if it meant that Stede was stuck in the sitting room, nodding along as Mr. Wellington blathered on about - well, Ed, actually!

Stede started listening again, just in time to realize that he was being asked a question.

"That son of his, the grown one. You spend time with him, don't you, doctor?" Wellington's eyes gleamed, and he didn't wait for an answer. "Be careful with that one. One hears all sorts of things."

Stede bristled. He had no interest in salacious gossip. Not from a man like Mr. Wellington, wasn't certainly not about his friend. Ed's past was his business. Still… "What sort of things?" Stede asked.

Wellington lowered his voice. "A fellow at the Knights of Columbus Lodge warned me off of him. Told me about how he got kicked out of his college. Not for academic reasons, if you catch my drift."

"Car theft, wasn't it?" Hornberry chimed in. "I heard he hotwired the Dean's car right out from under him."

"Makes you wonder about that pickup truck of his." Siegfried mused.

Stede gasped. Ed's truck was his pride and joy. To suggest that it was stolen was- "Ridiculous," he muttered, more quietly than he intended.

Wellington ignored Stede's comment and leaned in, lowering his voice. "What I heard was worse than car theft. Really sick stuff. But I don't want to offend any… delicate sensibilities."

Siegfried giggled. "We're all friends here. Please, don't hold back on our accounts."

Stede's chair scraped against the wooden floor as he rose. "It's time for me to turn in, I believe," he said as graciously as he could muster.  "Mr. Hornberry, congratulations again on your divorce, and… safe travels home."

He didn't even pause on the creaky staircase when he heard the burst of laughter- at his expense, no doubt- erupt from the sitting room. It was nothing he hadn't heard before.

+++

"Are you going to watch the fireworks tonight, after the parade?" Stede asked Ed over their toast and marmalade.

They had taken to sharing an early breakfast before the rest of the guests came downstairs. Ed always had work to do later in the mornings, and Stede simply couldn't stand a noisy breakfast. Today, especially, Stede was eager to avoid the men who had been so unkind the night before. 

Ed hesitated for a moment before answering "Nah," he said, spooning far too much sugar into his coffee, "I think it's gonna rain tonight."

"Hm. A quiet night in, then?"

Ed shifted in his seat. "Actually, uh- I'm going to a concert. At my friend's nightclub."

That was news to Stede. It wasn't that he expected to be included in all of Ed's plans, but it would certainly be nice to be invited.

"Well, that sounds nice,." he said mildly. Ed grunted noncommittally and took a sip of coffee. Stede drummed his fingers on the table and tried again. "I don't have any plans. For what it's worth."

"Look, Stede," Ed said, “it’s not that I wouldn’t want you there. It’s just… it’s invitation only.”

Stede's face fell fractionally and a tiny hum escaped his lips. He nodded slowly and looked into his cup as he took another sip.

“Really?”

“What?” Stede peered up at Ed with raised eyebrows.

Ed fixed him with a knowing look as the corners of his lips curled upwards. “Alright, screw it.” he muttered. “You wanna come?”

“I’d hate to be rude to the host…” Stede said, failing miserably to bite back on a reserved grin. 

“ Sure you would.” he chuckled around a bite. “Reckon I’ll just sweet-talk Izzy when we get there.”

Stede beamed. "You're too good to me, Ed."

"Yeah, man, I know I am." Ed grumbled. "But you should-" he said, then snapped his mouth shut.

"I should what?" 

Ed's brow furrowed. He took another sip of coffee, then put the cup down. "Nah," he said, staring at the cup like it had grown legs. "I just meant… d'you want to take a look at some of my photography? Before the parade? You said you'd been wanting to."

"What, now?" Stede knew a distraction when he heard one, but he had been wanting to see Ed's work. "I'm ready if you are!" he said brightly.

He thought he heard Ed grumble something under his breath, and then they were heading out the back, to Ed's studio.

Ed's "studio" was really more of a pantry, maybe eight feet by five, built into the side of the house near Herb's bedroom. It used to be Ed's mother's sewing room, Ed had explained, where she took in mending and tailoring jobs until she got too sick to work.

Now, the room was full of pieces of Ed. His photography, yes, some hanging and some stacked in a flat file, but also sketches, collages, and even a few pieces of pottery. The art took up so much of the small space that the two men stood practically hip-to-hip. Stede shifted, struck suddenly by the hazy memory of Ed’s hip nudging his own as he guided him into the Chevy, that night at the radio station.

Ed thumbed through his archives with a well-practiced rhythm, pulling out prints here and there, and when he was satisfied with his collection, he would pass it off to Stede and begin work on another.

The photographs showed a side of Reno that Stede had barely glimpsed- lived-in but still alien, familiar but foreign. Was this how Ed saw the town he had adopted as his home? To Stede, Ed and Reno were one and the same- a dazzling contradiction of bright electric lights and vast, open skies. But maybe Ed felt like an outsider here, too, even after all these years. 

"I had no idea," Stede breathed as he took it all in, "you're really an artist."

Ed rubbed the back of his neck. "Nah, I just like messing around."

"Stop." Stede surprised himself with his sharp tone. "Don't sell yourself short. You have real talent, Edward." Before Stede could apologize for overstepping, Ed grinned. He actually grinned at Stede. It was thrilling every time, as much as it was surprising. 

“Yeah?”

Stede turned away, shielding himself from the brightness of Ed's smile. "You have a real talent for fishing for compliments," he huffed as he carefully sorted through another set of photographs.

Some of the photographs were taken right here at the ranch; candid portraits of Ed’s family. Stede was so often jealous when he saw happy families. He wasn’t proud of it, but there it was. But seeing the easy affection that Ed had captured with his camera- he felt no envy, only an odd twist of gratitude that his friend didn’t have to be alone.

Stede swallowed back his sentimentality. “Gosh, Walter was just a kid here.” he said lightly. 

“Yeah,” Ed agreed, “he was just a kid a couple of days ago, I swear.”

“Oh, I like this one.” Stede lingered over a picture that Ed had clearly taken from inside his truck, showing a train racing into Reno- or out of Reno, maybe. 

“Yeah, you like trains.” Ed said simply. 

Stede smiled at the accusation. “I do like trains. But I like this. Seeing things the way you do.” 

Ed drew in a soft breath. It was a the same sound, Stede remembered, that he had made when he had first seen that lovely bolo tie. Quieter than even his smallest laugh, but louder than the little hums of disagreement Ed made that he thought Stede couldn't hear.

If Ed was still fishing for compliments, Stede thought, he had suddenly become much more subtle about it. 

The silence between them was suddenly too full, so Stede cleared his throat and kept flipping.

“What drew you to photography?” 

“I dunno,” Ed said with a tone that suggested that he definitely knew. “Saw a camera in a pawn shop. You’d be amazed what you can find in a Reno pawn shop.” Stede thought about the crowds of dejected gamblers he’d seen milling around, and understood. 

“Anyhow,” Ed continued. I saw the camera, thought ‘I bet I could take some good photos’, and here we are.”

“Well, you were right, obviously. You have an incredible eye. Do you ever think about working with the newspaper here?"

Ed's smile turned into a grimace. "Nah. No point. The guys at the paper here, it's the same dozen guys who've been around forever. Nothing but closed-minded, short-sighted thugs, the whole pack of 'em."

Even Stede, who was not particularly skilled at reading moods, could sense the injury lurking under Ed's words. Empathy flared in his chest, and something else- indignation, anger even, that anybody in Reno would dare to cause Ed distress. 

"Well, they can go suck eggs in hell, then." He had hoped to make Ed laugh. But Ed just hummed darkly in agreement, like his mind was miles away.

"What is it, Ed?" Stede watched Ed struggle to choose his next words.

"Hard to explain. You ever feel like you're just… I dunno, treading water? Waiting to drown?

This was a side of Ed that Stede had never seen. Even a few weeks ago, Stede would've panicked, not knowing how to handle the open sentiment from another person, but today, Stede mostly felt grateful that Ed felt comfortable enough to let down his guard.

Maybe he knew that Stede would understand what Ed meant. Understand it with an aching familiarity.

"Look who you're asking, Ed," he said ruefully. "I treaded water so long I probably churned up the whole ocean."

"Not anymore?"

Stede answered before he could think. "Not since I came here."

"The Reno Cure, huh?" Ed made an amused snort. "Glad it really does work for some folks. You know, I've barely left Reno since I came with my mom? Just for a semester of college- and even then, Utah State was just a day's drive away."

There was a twinge in Stede's stomach as he remembered Mr. Wellington's insinuations. It felt disloyal to even think about it. Still, Ed had been the one to bring it up…

 "Just one semester? Why is that?" He kept his voice casual, curious, but saw Ed's back go rigid and immediately felt cruel. "You don't have to tell me-"

"No, I want to tell you. I think- I think I need to tell you." Ed kept his back turned as he kept sorting through his photographs. "I was expelled. I, uh- I made an indecent proposal, they called it, to the director of student affairs."

The blunt explanation shocked Stede into laughter. He saw Ed's shoulders tense, then release, then he turned around to face Stede, leaning against the counter. "You're laughing."

"I'm sorry," Stede chuckled, "Should I not?"

Then Ed chuckled, too. "Yeah, it was funny, I guess. I was eighteen! I didn't know anything about your world."

"My world?"

"You know," Ed glanced over his shoulder and gestured up and down at Stede, "the academic world. Decent, respectable. Marble columns and all that. In my world, if somebody takes you out for a moonlight drive and parks with you, it's not to try to save your soul."

Stede gasped. "Is that what happened?"

"Well, apparently!" Ed shook his head ruefully. "We were parked out there forever, not saying anything. It never occurred to me that we were supposed to be praying. Finally, I thought 'oh, what the hell' and kissed him."

Stede laughed again, and then the end of Ed's sentence caught up to him.

Oh.

Ed was holding his breath, studying Stede's face, trying to uncover a reaction.

"Oh." Stede's head wasn't spinning exactly, but it wasn't steady, either. The floor felt very far below him, and Ed felt very close, too close in that tiny room, but Stede didn't want to step away, didn't want to draw attention to their proximity. 

"I'm sorry," he said, "you kissed-"

"The director of student affairs, yeah."

"And… he…"

"Yeah." Ed's tone was light, but he was gripping the edge of the desk hard enough to turn his knuckles white. Stede looked away, looked anywhere but at Ed's hands.

"Are you, uh- are you shocked?"

What a question! Stede fought to keep his face neutral. "Of course not. I'm- um. I'm nothing if not open-minded. And you're- ah. You're my friend, of course."

"Of course." Ed echoed back quietly. "Stede, do you-"

Stede took a halting step away, just a step, and he watched Ed's jaw flex. "Hmm?"

Ed's eyes  jumped around Stede's face like he was making up his mind. "That concert tonight. The bar I'm going to? That's- that’s a bar for, you know, people like that." He winced and shook his head. "For people like me."

People like Ed. 

Ed was a good person. Ed might even be Stede’s favorite person. He was so patient with Stede, so friendly, so full of life. Ed made Stede- feel comfortable. So what if he- if he was-

"Do you still want to go with me?" Ed prompted him with furrowed brows. "To the concert, I mean? I'll understand if-"

Stede squared his shoulders, hoping he looked calmer than he felt. "If you think I'll be welcome there, of course I'll go."

He saw Ed relax a fraction. "Yeah?"

"Yes, of course. I-" Stede shifted his weight from one foot to the other, unsure of what to say next. "I'm hardly in a place to cast judgment on anybody, am I? Look at how I ended my marriage."

Ed's eyes were unreadable. Stede bit his lips, certain that he had said the wrong thing yet again. "I'll just-" he gestured limply at the door, "I was going to work on my lesson plan, so. I'll be in my, um- upstairs."

Stede heard Ed respond, but the words were lost on him.

The stairs creaked and groaned under Stede like they always did when he walked up to his room. Shame on you, Stede Bonnet, he chided himself. 

He sat down on his bed and took a breath. Then he took another. Ed was a friend, Stede's first real friend, ever. He wouldn't throw that away over something like-

It seemed impossible, didn't it? Stede wasn't entirely sheltered. He had known homosexuals in the past- well, not known exactly, but there were certain men in the field, Stede had heard the jokes and the names. His father had always taken a certain pleasure in pointing them out to Stede, sneering and imitating behind closed doors, calling them swishes and inverts and worse, not letting up until Stede laughed.

But those men weren't Ed. Ed was masculine and strong and sure. Ed had a happy life here in Reno, he wasn’t a pariah. Had Stede maybe misunderstood him? 

No, he could still hear Ed’s voice ringing- ‘people like me’, he had said. He also said 'I kissed him.' Ed had- he'd been in a parked car, somewhere in Utah, with a man. And Ed leaned across to that man in Utah and he- kissed him. And it stood to reason that maybe, in the years and years since then, Ed had kissed other men, men who weren't in Utah at all. Maybe even- maybe Ed had-

Had- what?

Stede jumped to his feet. It was none of Stede's business! It was none of his business. Stede had never wasted a moment of his life speculating about the love lives of other people, and he wasn't going to start now. 

He paced the length of his room until his mind stopped racing, then sat down at his little desk and pulled out his notebook. In three hours, Herb and Ed were driving downtown to see the parade. They invited Stede, and Stede said he would go. Of course he would go.

Stede just needed his hands to stop shaking. He needed to focus on his lesson plan. He would be leaving for California in a month, and he had so much to do.

Reno's Fourth of July parade was a quaint thing, especially compared to the colorful, electric facades of the buildings it passed by. The 4H Club had a float, and so did the Shriners and the Elks, and even a few local bars and clubs had sponsored a spot. 

When Walter marched by, playing his clarinet, Stede couldn't help joining in as Ed hooted and hollered his encouragement. Even Herb, usually so stoic, waved his hat in the air as his son passed.

Stede caught Ed snapping a quick photograph of Herb's outburst and smiled. Not for the first time, he found himself enchanted by the easy way that Ed, Herb and Walt shared each other’s lives. They weren’t particularly affectionate or showy, but it was clear, even when they were nagging or scolding, that they liked each other. It was beautiful, but baffling- Stede simply had no frame of reference for it. 

He couldn’t stop his thoughts from straying to Ed’s confession earlier that day. Did Herb suspect that Ed was- the kind of person he said he was? (‘A bar for people like that,’ Ed’s voice echoed in his mind. ‘ for people like me.’ ) 

Could Ed be so easy with his stepfather if he was keeping a secret like that? Could Herb be so easy with his stepson if Ed wasn’t keeping a secret like that? Neither seemed possible. But surely one must be, because the two men were comfortable and casual together. Certainly more than Stede ever had been with his own father, despite the fact that Stede had never strayed far from his shadow. 

Watching Ed bicker and joke with Herb and Walter helped Stede’s anxiety recede, little by little. If Ed’s past and his predilections didn’t change his relationship with his stepfather and half-brother, then it didn’t have to change his friendship with Ed. It could still be the way it had been. Easy. Like breathing, almost. 

Stede was comforted by the thought. Despite everything, he didn’t think he could bear losing Ed’s friendship. How had he gone so long in life without a real friend? In just a few weeks, their easy camaraderie had become an essential part of Stede's day. The best part of his day. That didn't need to change.

Still, after the day passed and the sun set, Stede felt a twinge of anticipation. When Ed leaned over and told him it was time to go, he almost jumped out of his skin. And for the entire drive, his hands were folded firmly in his lap, as if he were going to reach out and break something if he wasn't careful. 

Conversation came easily between them, as it always did, small jokes about this and that, but there was a tension in the air that had never been there before.

"You were right about the rain," Stede pointed out, wincing at the vapid smalltalk even as fat raindrops splattered on the windshield.

Ed made a vague sound of agreement. "Good thing it held up until after the parade, though." 

Desperate to stop discussing the weather, Stede pivoted. "Tell me about the band that's playing tonight!"

It worked. Ed tapped out an excited rhythm on the steering wheel. "Yeah, they're called the ViceRoys. Three local guys. They've got a doo-wop sound, rhythm and blues, you know?"

Stede didn't know, not really, but he nodded all the same. "And are they all, ah- friends of yours?"

Ed shot him a sideways look. "A bit. The lead singer, Frenchie…. his roommate and I are old friends, so yeah, I'd call him a friend. Oluwande works at the bar, so I know him pretty well. And the drummer…" Ed chuckled and shook his head. "Roach is a madman. You'll like him."

"What? Why would I like a madman? And what sort of name is Roach ?"

"What sort of name is Stede, Stede?"

Stede gasped theatrically. "It's an old family name!"

"Yeah, well, maybe Roach comes from an old family, too, you ever think of that? Snob." There, see? Ed was teasing him again, just like a friend.

Nothing had to change.

+++

So, this was a gay bar. 

It wasn’t-

Stede didn’t have expectations , of course. He had never given much thought to what went on in establishments like Benji’s Barroom, but now that he was visiting one, it didn’t seem all too different from one of the taverns where his fellow professors would gather back in Chicago to discuss philosophy and gossip.

The bar itself was dark wood, wrapping around the length of the back wall, with a modest stage raised up behind the bar. Up there, three men were playing energetically to an enthusiastic crowd, and even if the crowd was almost entirely male, well, they were cheering and applauding just like anybody else would.

The lingering smell of cigarettes was the same as any other bar. The sound of the modern music wasn't much different from what Stede was used to hearing at bars. And the dancing-

Stede had known, academically at least, that there would likely be men dancing together at the nightclub. So he wasn't entirely bewildered when he noticed the couples crowding the dance floor. He tried not to let his eyes linger- he didn’t want to be rude, after all- but it was difficult not to notice here and here when hands met hips, or cheeks rested on shoulders. It wasn’t all that different from the way Stede had watched men and women dance together. In fact, it was almost-

“Hey, Eddie! Thought you’d never show!”

It was almost comforting, despite all odds, to recognize Jack Rackham there in the crowd of dancers. He wasn't a friendly face, but at least he was a familiar one. And, well, Jack was engaged to be married. It was reassuring to know that Stede wasn't the only man there who wasn't- well. Assuming the woman in his arms was his fiancee, it was clearly destined to be a passionate marriage.

In fact, Stede had never seen two people more shamelessly in love than Jack and his dancing partner. She had a bouffant of red hair and wore slim blue jeans that matched Jack's, and together they were a swirl of hands and hips and deep eye contact that made Stede feel like was intruding on a private moment.

But there was nothing private about the moment, he was reminded when Jack shouted again. “And look at that, you brought Doctor Steve!” Stede shrank where he stood and quickly swept his eyes around the room, as if there could possibly be anybody there he knew. As if ‘Doctor Steve’ were actually his name. 

“You all right?” Ed asked softly. When Stede nodded in the affirmitave, Ed seemed to take him at his word. “Great. Go ahead and grab us a couple of seats at that table-” he waved across the room and a silver-haired man waved back-  "and I’ll be right with you. I gotta go kiss the bride.”

Stede stayed where he was and watched as Ed confidently strode into the crowd of dancers and rested his hands on the waist of the redheaded woman in Jack’s arms. The redhead- Anne, Stede remembered- happily threw her arms around Ed, and let him kiss her cheek. Jack made a big show of dropping his own hands and backing away from them, and then he said something that made Ed and Anne laugh. 

A knot formed in Stede’s gut. Something about seeing Ed laughing like that, seeing Jack make Ed laugh like that, made Stede want to scream.

Enough , Stede said to himself. There was no need to take out his own anxiety on his friend.

Jack slid his way over to Stede like a sidewinder, and with a slick smile he guided him to the table anchored by the silver-haired man that waved at Ed earlier. Now that he was closer, Stede noticed that he was also one of the largest men that he had ever seen.

"Room for a couple more VIPs?" Jack asked the big man. Even sitting, Stede could tell he must be at least six foot eight, but he had a friendly face, and when he patted the seat next to him, Stede sat.

"This is Steve," Jack offered, "New friend of Eddie's."

"Oh, charmed!" John had a soft voice and a starry twinkle in his eye. "John Feeney."

Jack leaned in close enough for Stede to smell the rye on his breath. "Y'know, John here and Eddie go way back, you know. Way back. How far back would you say, exactly, John?" His voice had a sharp edge to it that Stede didn't like.

Apparently John didn't like it, either. "Play nice, Rackham," he warned, then brought his attention back to Stede. "Just ignore him, dear, and tell me how you met Ed."

For a stranger, there was something comforting about the tall man. He was attentive and expressive, and he almost made Stede forget that he was an outsider at Benji's Barroom.

When Stede told him that he was a guest at Herb's divorce ranch, John raised his eyebrows in surprise. They chatted for quite a while; John told an outrageous story about spending a weekend in Las Vegas with Ed, ("years ago," he said to Stede with a puzzling wink) that ended with a fire and a hasty escape.

By the time Ed and Anne whirled their way off the dance floor, Stede was politely chuckling along with another story, this one about a municipal swimming pool that also involved arson- how many fires had this John Feeney started?

Ed slid into the empty seat next to Stede's. His face was flushed from the exertion of dancing, and the thinnest sheen of sweat had gathered right at his hairline. It made Ed’s black hair look even blacker, somehow. Stede barely noticed Anne walking around the table until she draped herself on Jack's lap and introduced herself.

"Anne Bonny," she said over the music, extending her hand across the table.

"Of course," Stede found her grip remarkably firm, "Soon to be Anne Rackham, I hear."

It was like Stede's words lit a fire Jack, the way his arms circled tighter around Anne's waist. "Hear that, Red?" he growled into her ear. "Anne Rackham, that's my girl." 

"You've done it now, mate," Ed grumbled to Stede as Anne cooed back at Jack, and sure enough, Jack and Anne were lost to the world, whispering sweet nothings and nuzzling at each other in a way that that Stede knew would have gotten his students a written warning, back in Chicago.

John pointedly shifted his chair to angle it away from the couple. "Feels wrong, somehow, doesn't it?" he winked at Stede.

Stede was inclined to agree- public displays of affection had always struck him as the worst kind of disruption- but before he could agree, John's eyes widened as his attention shifted over Stede's shoulder. "Ah- don't look now, boys, but here comes Miss Izzy."

Stede Bonnet was no stranger to looks of disdain. From his classmates, his colleagues, even his own father- by the time he reached adulthood, he had received more glares, scowls and side-eyes than he could catalog. But none of those looks could prepare him for the chill he felt when the man named Izzy came stalking over to their table.

Lucky for Stede, then, that the daggers in Izzy's eyes weren't aimed at him.

"Rackham." 

Izzy spit the name out like poison. It was enough to pull Jack's attention away from Anne's lips, if only for a moment. 

"Howdy, Handy," he greeted Izzy with a languid grin, utterly unbothered by the seething in the other man’s voice, "You might wanna practice saying that name a little sweeter- soon our Red is gonna be a Rackham, too," he added, squeezing Anne's hips. It only sharpened Izzy's glare.

"Be nice, Jack," Anne swatted his arm, and looked up at Izzy with puppy-dog eyes. "You are happy for us, aren't you, Iz?"

Izzy sniffed. “Happy isn’t the word I would have chosen, no.”

“Look at it this way, man.” Ed soothed. “You’re gonna be an honorary Grampappy.”

Izzy snorted in mild contempt as the rest of the table smirked, but he idly squeezed Ed’s shoulder in acknowledgment. 

As the conversation continued, Stede couldn’t help but notice Izzy’s hand lingered on Ed's shoulder for a second longer than what seemed completely friendly. So this was Ed's friend Izzy, Stede thought. Then, with sudden queasy uncertainty, he wondered- Ed's friend? Or was this man Ed's-

It was none of Stede's business it was none of Stede's business it was none of Stede's business.

But the thought brought no peace. Instead, nervous energy crackled through him, shooting up his spine. He impulsively stood up and offered his hand.

“Stede Bonnet," he introduced himself, hoping his smile looked less saccharine than it tasted. “You’ve got quite the establishment here.”

Izzy narrowed his eyes. "What the fuck is this, Ed?" he asked, not taking Stede’s offered hand, but not looking away from Stede for a moment.

The daggers in his eyes were as sharp as Stede had imagined.

"It's fine," Ed started, but he was interrupted by Izzy's caustic rasp.

“It’s always fine , isn’t it, Ed? You thought tonight, of all nights, was the best time for you to bring this-"

"Whoa, hey!" Ed raised his voice and his hands as if he was calming a spooked horse. "Everything is all right. Better than all right- look, you got this place shined up like a new penny, Iz." 

It appeared that Izzy was immune to the sway of Ed's most soothing voice. He shifted his gaze, glaring at Ed for a long moment, seemingly thinking of something to say, then he turned on his heel and stormed away.

Ed groaned and drew a hand down across his face. “Sit down, Stede,” he said softly. Stede obeyed. Ed continued, “You all right?” Stede nodded weakly. “Good. Good. That was my fault. I, uh- I’m just gonna go talk to him. Be right back.” 

Before Stede could answer, Ed stood up and left Stede alone there for the second time that evening.

“Ah, don’t worry about any of that,” Jack said. “Izzy can’t help being a bitch- ow!” he winced as Anne punched him in the shoulder.

"Izzy's a saint, he's just protective," she insisted. Stede must not have looked convinced, because she continued, "Him and Ben, they practically raised me. He's just mad because he thinks Jack is stealing his little girl."

Jack muttered something sarcastic, and then the two of them were back in their bubble again, this time bickering instead of necking. It was nearly as intimate, and Stede felt the need to avert his eyes.

John took pity on Stede’s discomfort and leaned in. “Jack’s right, for once. Izzy’s just a bitch. Try not to take it personal.” 

Stede looked down at his lap, where he was thoroughly shredding a paper napkin in his hands. The ViceRoys were still singing - a jaunty song about going to Mexico - and Stede was trying very hard to not lose his composure. Maybe they started singing a new song, or two, he wasn't quite sure.

Stede couldn’t quite keep track of how much time had passed before Ed appeared at his side again. This time he had two drinks in his hand- a beer for himself and a whisky soda for Stede. 

Stede accepted the drink with an apology. “I didn’t mean to cause any trouble, Ed.”

“No trouble, mate,” Ed said with a tightness in his voice that suggested some trouble. Whatever had happened back there between Ed and Izzy Hands, it hadn't been pleasant. And it was Stede’s fault.

“Is everybody out here playing nice with you, at least?” Ed checked.

“Of course,” Stede quickly reported, even though he’d been mostly ignoring the company since Ed left. “And the music is really swell.”

Everybody at the table nodded in agreement. “They’re good, aren’t they?” John gestured up at the lead singer with pride. “Frenchie- the one singing? He’s mine.”

“Yours!” Stede’s voice caught in his throat, producing more of a squeak than he had hoped for. “Oh, well, that’s-” he nodded, more to himself than anything. He could sense Ed watching him in his periphery, and tried to relax his shoulders. He wasn’t judgemental! He was curious.  

What does it mean, he desperately wanted to ask John, when you say a man is yours ? Do you share a home? A- bed? Are you in love? Does he ever tell you ‘ you’re mine’ in the way you just did, leaning his shoulder into yours and whispering it, maybe, or-? 

Stede shook his head to clear it. “My goodness,” he said simply. “He’s very talented.”

“Tell me, Stede,” Anne jumped in quickly, “have you done much gambling since you got to Reno?”

Ed cracked up next to Stede, and before he could think, Stede swatted his arm.

“Stede loves the slots," Ed lied over his beer bottle, “can’t hardly keep him away from them.”

“That’s a lie!” Stede defended himself. “No, ma’am, I’m afraid I’m not much of a gambler.”

Ed shook his head mournfully. “I caught him lecturing the Cleopatra’s Gold machine. You should’ve seen it- dressing the old girl down because he couldn’t figure out the right way to win.”

“There’s no ‘right way to win’, Ed,” Stede sniped back, “You admitted that yourself! There’s no point in playing a game you can’t win.” 

Ed elbowed him, and Stede couldn’t help elbowing him back. They grinned at each other like fools for a second or two, and Stede half-forgot where they were. They could have been on the surface of the moon, for all the difference it made. 

Their eye contact only broke when Ed brought his bottle of beer to his lips. Stede watched the gesture with a strange sort of fascination- the beads of condensation on the amber glass bottle perfectly mirrored the beads of sweat on Ed's forehead, remnants of his earlier dance with Anne. 

It was the most relaxed Stede had been all night, until quite suddenly, everybody around them was applauding the end of a song. He startled, embarrassed to have been so lost in thought yet again, and took the opportunity to excuse himself to the restroom. 

Stede grimaced at the sight of the old-fashioned trough urinals that lined the side walls of the mens' room, but, well, nature was calling, so he did what he had to do.

Behind him, he heard the sound of a door swinging open, followed by cowboy boots clicking on tile. 

There were two long troughs on either wall, so why did Jack Rackham need to stand right next to Stede to do his own business? The man was really a terror. Stede gritted his teeth and kept his eyes trained on the brick wall in front of him when Jack- of course- started to speak.

“I think we got off on the wrong foot,” Jack said, punctuating his words with the loud zzzzzip of a fly going down. “Eddie and me, y’know- we’ve been buds a long time. In many ways, we’re the same man,” he said, then pushed out a long grunt of satisfaction when his stream of piss hit the back wall.

Stede grimaced and stared straight ahead. “Somehow I find that very hard to imagine,” he said, not disguising the annoyance in his voice.

Jack laughed. "I probably deserve that. Good for you, man.”

For a brief, blissful moment, Stede thought maybe he had actually passed whatever awful macho test this was, but then Jack spoke again. “So, are you screwing him yet, or what?”

Stede froze. 

Jack still sounded so casual, as if he hadn't just thrown a live grenade. Stede couldn't think. The echo of Jack's question was so loud , along with the sounds of pissing and the thumping of Stede's heart. "What, are you shy or something?"

“That’s not- no, I’m sorry, I’m not- I have a wife ,” he heard himself say, and even he knew how flimsy that sounded. He was shaking his head so wildly that he thought he might hurt himself. Half in a trance, he tucked himself back into his pants and stepped away from the urinals. 

“I’m not-” the word rose like bile in his throat, but he had to finish the sentence, he had to tell Jack that he wasn’t- “ gay .”

Jack didn’t argue that point. “Neither am I, man. I get it! But lord knows Eddie and I have had our fun.”

“You-” Stede’s mouth was suddenly very dry. That couldn't be right. Jack had a beautiful fiancee, he was going to marry her, Stede saw the way he touched her. He couldn’t want Ed in the same- couldn’t have touched Ed- “You’re lying.”

Jack raised his eyebrows. “No way, compadre. Anything goes when the lights are out. Besides, it’s barely even gay when the guy moves as sweet as Eddie does, y’know what I mean?”

Stede could feel the floor get farther away from him with every moment. He could feel his panic building in his gut. But he would not give Jack Rackham the satisfaction of pushing him over the edge, and he wasn’t going to lose his composure here in the men's room. He quick-stepped over to the sink and waited for the water to get hot.

“Ah shit, Steve-” Jack had finished his business, apparently, and turned to follow him.

“ Stede, ” he hissed, then plunged his hands under the scalding stream of water.

Jack winced. “Right, Stede- look, I didn’t mean to-”

“Didn’t mean to what?” he snapped. “Badger me? Bully me? Try to put thoughts in my head about you and-”  

Ed couldn’t have, could he? Let Jack pull him in close on the dance floor, the way he did with Anne? Crowded against him, close enough to breathe down his collar? No. 

“It’s none of my business.” Stede whispered to himself, still hunched over the sink.

“Hey, I got the wrong idea, is all.” Jack raised his hands in surrender. “An honest mistake. We can just-  pretend I didn’t say anything, okay?" When Stede didn't respond, he sighed and glanced at the door. "Look, I think I'm gonna split- this never happened, right?” Jack didn’t wait for a response. He turned and left, unwashed hands and all.

Stede didn't watch him go. He kept his hands under the hot water until it was all he could feel, until his breathing was under control again. Eventually the hot water ran out, and Stede opened his eyes. He glanced at his reflection just long enough to ensure that he wasn't an absolute wreck, and he steeled himself to head back out to the concert.

Sure enough, Jack and Anne were already heading for the door when Stede left the men's room, Anne pouting and Jack scowling. As they breezed past Stede, Anne offered a hasty “Nice meeting you!”, but Jack kept his eyes averted.

Everything was just fine, Stede reminded himself. There was nothing to do but get on with the night. With only the slightest tremor in his hands, he adjusted his collar, smoothed the front of his slacks, and weaved his way through the crowd, back to his table.

There were two new men sitting around the table with John and Ed. Their backs were to Stede, but he could see that one was bald and one had tall, elaborately combed dark hair. As he got closer, Stede heard a voice raised in excitement. A familiar voice.

“I’ve made up my mind," the pompadoured newcomer proclaimed. "From now on, I’m going by Lucius."

Stede watched as Ed scratched the back of his neck, considering. “What was wrong with Lou ?”

“Ugh, Lou is so boring. And nobody ever remembers Louis . But Lucius is unforgettable.”

The bald man's head tipped back in laughter. “Yeah, he is, babe!” he agreed, and he kissed Lou- Lucius - the young man from the library- on the cheek. 

When Ed looked up and spotted Stede, his eyes widened. “Mate, you all right?” he asked. 

Lucius followed Ed’s line of sight and grinned. “Well, fancy running into you here, Stede,” Lucius winked. “I was starting to wonder.” 

Stede opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Ed was standing now, saying something to him that he couldn’t hear over the rush of blood in his ears. It wasn’t until Ed was standing in front of him, until his hand brushed Stede’s elbow, that he was able to speak.

“I’m sorry,” Stede said without thinking. “but that’s Lou, from the library.”

“Right.” Ed’s face was still furrowed with concern, and Stede had to wonder what his own face looked like. “You look a little pale. Do you need to sit down?”

Stede took an unsteady step backwards. “I think I need to go, Edward. I know him.”

Ed crossed his arms, but his voice was patient. “Yeah, man. From the library.”

“No!” Stede’s voice was bordering on hysterical. “I mean, he knows me . He’ll think- he’s going to get the wrong idea. I need to go, I’m sorry, I really am, I’m just going to-” 

People were looking now, not just Lucius and the rest of the table, but strange men, all looking right at Stede, seeing him there with Ed, and he knew that he was making a spectacle, he knew that he was drawing attention, which was why he just needed-

“I need to go,” Stede repeated. “I don’t want to ruin your night, Ed, I’ll just- wait in the Chevy, is that all right? Until the concert is over?” He nodded at Ed like the whole thing was decided and turned to leave. When he felt Ed’s hand on his elbow again, he threw it off. He stared down at the floor, at Ed’s feet, unable to look his friend in the face. “Look, if I gave you the wrong idea, I’m sorry, Ed. I’m not- I’m- ” he grasped for words. “I’m going to wait in the Chevy”, he repeated at last, and stormed for the door.  

The rain had picked up- of course it had. Everything else had gone to hell already, why not suffer the indignity of a rainstorm, in the desert! 

If there were only windows in that damned bar, maybe Stede would have noticed the weather before declaring to Ed that he was waiting outside, but the damage was done- he certainly couldn't go back inside after the scene he made.

Stede only lingered under the awning for a moment before mustering his courage, pulling his jacket over his head, and making a run for the Chevy.

Lucky that Ed never locked his car doors, Stede thought as he shivered against the bench seat of the truck. At least he was alone here. Alone to- what? Hide? Cry? With a moan of frustration, Stede ran his hands through his rain-damp hair. He came to Reno to become a new man, but here he was, Baby Bonnet cowering in the corner yet again. Just like he did at the radio station. Just like he did whenever the fear was too much- whenever the want was too much. 

He didn’t know how much time passed before a shape appeared at the window, darker even than the night sky that wrapped itself around the truck. 

Ed . 

Stede held his breath and waited for Ed to walk his way around to the driver’s side door, but he just stayed there, waiting in the rain. Was it relief that Stede felt, or fear?

Two sharp knocks rapped against the window, louder than any thunderclap. Through the dim, drizzling glass, Stede could see Ed’s gesture- a twirl of the hand, the universal signal for ‘roll the window down.'

It was Ed’s car, after all, so what could Stede do but obey? He lowered the window a few inches, leaning away from the spray of warm rain that broke through. 

“All the way down, Stede.” Ed’s voice rolled through the gap in the window, unamused. 

Slowly, Stede turned the crank to bring the window the rest of the way down. Ed was standing tall in the rain, not shrinking away from the torrent. His black shirt stuck to his chest, little droplets of water falling from the seams. He didn’t say anything, just looked down at Stede through the window. Waiting. 

“Ed,” Stede began, waiting for the rest of the sentence to come. ‘Ed, I’m sorry I made a scene,’ would be appropriate. ‘Ed, you’re going to get all wet and catch a cold’ could do the trick, too. But Stede couldn’t get any further than-

“Ed?” he asked, and the other man leaned in, ducking his head in through the window. Rivulets of water dripped down from behind his ear, down his neck, joining together at his throat. Stede followed the path of the water until it disappeared under Ed’s collar. He swallowed and pulled his gaze back up, but the sight that met him there was even worse- Ed’s impossibly large eyes, staring into Stede's, as dark and warm and terrifying as a summer storm.

“Ed,” he whispered, the space between them shrinking down to a humid inch of breath and nerves. Their noses were close enough to touch, and then they did, brushing against each other, damp with rain. Close enough that he could smell the cigarette on Ed’s breath. 

Stede never craved a cigarette more than he did just then.

Carefully, carelessly, Stede turned his face up and to the side, allowing his lips to brush against Ed’s. It wasn’t a kiss, not really. Warm breath passed between them - the breath of life , the thought bubbled into his head- and finally, finally, Stede let himself breathe deeply. 

When their lips met for a second time, everything seemed to stop. The rain, his heart, time, the rotation of the earth itself. The only thing that remained was the press of Ed’s lips on Stede’s, warm and soft and inviting. Stede turned in the car seat to face Ed more fully, and brought their lips closer together. Ed made a muffled sound of surprise but quickly pushed back, opening his lips slightly, and oh, that was better. Stede could hardly believe that it was happening, Ed’s mouth fumbling against his in the warm rain. 

He heard Ed moan into his mouth when their kiss deepened, felt the vibrations of it, tasted the raindrops on Ed’s lips. Every sensation felt like an atom bomb. Every nudge of Ed’s tongue against Stede’s felt like the end of the world, and the very beginning.

Rivulets of rain were cascading over Ed’s shoulders and onto Stede’s hands- when had Stede reached through the car window to clutch at Ed’s shoulders? When had Ed leaned so far into the car? This was all- it was all so- Stede pulled away and caught a breath. 

Ed pulled away too, further even then Stede, and the whine of displeasure was out of Stede’s mouth before he had time to stop it. But then the car door was flying open and Ed was there, really there , climbing into Stede’s lap, and then there were no barriers at all between them. 

Their next kiss lasted, and lasted, and Ed’s hands roamed, palms stroking Stede’s jaw and shoulders and arms. Stede shivered at the contact, and Ed grinned, his lips parting against Stede’s. Then his tongue was there, too, a flash of heat and wet, swiping at Stede’s bottom lip as if stealing a taste before retreating.

“Ed,” Stede panted as their kiss fell apart into frantic tongues and lips and fingertips digging into skin “You- oh God, you-”

“Me?” Ed growled against Stede’s lips. His voice was low and tight and it set the base of Stede's spine tingling. “ Me ? Stede, you have been driving me so goddamn crazy, do you know that?” 

Stede trembled at the accusation. He needed to brace himself, so his hands slipped down to Ed’s waist and grasped, flexed, clutched. They were both drenched now, with the rain still coursing through the open window, but Stede couldn’t bring himself to care, not when Ed was tilting his head back with pleasure. What could he do but lean up and taste the raindrops that were running down the side of Ed’s neck?

“God, Stede-” That name had never sounded right until he heard it slipping out of Ed Teach’s mouth- “ Stede , I thought I was imagining things. I didn’t know if you wanted me- I didn’t even know if you were gay- ”

Stede pulled back with a little, hitching gasp. 

“What?” 

It was suddenly quite difficult to breathe. The weight of Ed on Stede's lap- on his lap , how did this all happen so quickly- was unbearable.

"Get off-"

Ed's chest rose and fell as he stared at Stede, too confused by the sudden change to move.

"Get off of me," Stede begged. "Please."

A look of pain flashed on Ed's face, like he'd been struck, and he scrambled off of Stede to sit against the steering wheel. But even with Ed's weight off of him, even without being pinned down under Ed's thighs, Stede felt his breath coming in fast and tight as he rolled the window up, stopping the rain at last.

The whole night- the men dancing, Izzy's anger, Jack's crude insinuations, Lucius's appearance, Ed's hands and hips and tongue - everything was crashing down on Stede at once. He pushed the palms of his hands against his eyes and took deep breaths, trying to keep control. 

"I'm sorry- this isn't me." he felt his voice shake.

"If that's not you," Ed's voice was raw, "then who the hell was just kissing me, Stede?"

Stede whimpered. He couldn’t deny it, not while his lips were still burning from the friction of the stubble on Ed's neck. Just a moment ago, he had been- they had been- so completely out of control. Reckless. Absolutely, completely free.

"I'm sorry. This- this isn't me."

"Yeah," Ed sighed. "You said that already."

There was so much Stede wanted to say, but the words weren't coming. "Ed, I never meant to- I'm just so mortified. I'm such an idiot, I can't even run away right!"

Ed made a dark hum of agreement.

"Do you hate me?"

The thin peal of Ed's laughter echoed in the truck. "How am I supposed to answer that, mate?"

If Stede knew any of the answers, he'd tell them to Ed in a heartbeat. Instead, he just shook his head and dropped his hands to his lap.

"Take me home." Stede said at last. "Back to the ranch."

"In this rain? Can't see a thing out there," Ed reasonably pointed out. 

"I trust you." Stede said. "Just drive."

" Fuck ," Ed muttered, but he started the truck. The headlamps shot out ahead, illuminating the curtain of falling rain ahead. That's what Stede focused on- not the arrhythmic pounding of his heart, not the rawness of his lips or the lingering tightness in his slacks, and certainly not the sound of decades of meticulously crafted barriers all falling down at once. 

Ed was merciful- he didn't ask any questions, he didn't say anything at all, he just set his jaw, peered ahead into the rain and drove. 

When the silence was too much to bear, Stede asked the question that had been burning at him for weeks. 

"May I have a cigarette?"

"You quit." Ed answered immediately. 

"Just one. Please." God, he needed it.

Ed jerked his jaw toward the glovebox. "None of my business, is it? You know where they are."

A millennium of poets couldn't find words euphoric enough to describe the rush of nicotine buzzing through Stede after so many weeks of self-denial. He tipped his head back against the damp bench seat and exhaled.

"Tomorrow," he said, apropos of nothing. "Tomorrow, I suppose we need to talk."

Ed didn't look at him. "Talk about what?"

"You know what about! Tonight . We-" he lowered his voice then, absurd in the cab of the pickup truck- "you kissed me."

"Nah," Ed set his jaw. "That wasn't you, remember?"

Stede ran a hand over his face, feeling entirely wrung out. "Damn. I just mean- Ed, I do care about you. You're my friend, my- my first real friend, maybe, did I ever tell you that?"

Ed didn't respond.

"I'm no good right now, I know. I'm sorry. I am. But- tomorrow? Tomorrow, we'll talk? Please, Ed."

A long stretch of silence passed. 

"Yeah, all right. Tomorrow."

They sat in silence for the rest of the drive home.

Chapter Text

Sunday, July 5, 1959

Ed always woke up in stages- his legs first, stretching down to the foot of his bed, then his spine, twisting from hip to shoulder blades. He liked to keep his eyes closed as long as he could, choosing instead to take in the sensations of the morning through his other senses.

On this particular morning, he listened to the creak of old wood beneath him. It was a familiar sound, a safe sound that said home. He felt the edge of the sheets that had been pulled away from him in the night. And he smelled- well, the whole room smelled like sweat.

Ed groaned as the night came rushing back to him. At last his eyes opened- two dark slivers, taking in what they could see with careful consideration. Nothing was in front of him but the wall. Nothing behind him, he knew, but a balled-up bedsheet, an artifact of a night spent tossing and turning with worry and regret.

"Stede," he whispered into his pillow, the fabric scratchy and too warm against his jaw. God, had they really- 

"Shit." He sat up and pulled a hand over his face. How did last night slip so far out of his control? 

He knew how. Stede. It was always Stede that knocked him off-balance. Something about the man made Ed forget that the world was a dangerous place. It was the way he looked at Ed, like he was safe and exciting and good , like nothing bad could happen to them as long as they were facing each other.

But that wasn't how Stede had looked at Ed yesterday, was it? No, by the end of the night, Stede couldn't look at Ed at all. When he did, it was with- something very nearly close to fear. Ed pushed the memory out of his mind, but it was replaced with the way Stede had looked up at him before that. Eyes dark with desire, lips red from rough kissing, neck splotchy with a deep pink flush that disappeared under his collar.

Stede wanted him. There was no doubt in Ed's mind, not any more. Not after Stede curled his fingers into Ed's hair and whined for him.

So things hadn't ended well last night- that could be fixed. Sure, Stede was scared, he was upset- but he said they could talk about it tomorrow. Well, tomorrow was today. A chance to start again, take his time, put all his cards on the table and wait for Stede to match his bet.

With a lighter heart than he woke up with, Ed slipped into the shower and planned exactly what he was going to say to Stede Bonnet.

+++

Ed was so swept up in his own thoughts that he ran straight into the steamer trunk in the middle of the frontroom.

"Son of a bitch! " he exclaimed, clutching at his shin. Why the hell was there luggage by the door at nine in the morning? There wasn't a move-in scheduled for today.

Walter's voice came from above. "No cussing in the house!" Ed turned to the stairwell, where his half-brother was hauling another suitcase down the rickety old stairs.

"What is this?" Ed asked, but he knew the answer before the words were out of his mouth. The suitcase Walter was carrying was monogrammed, of course it was, and so was the trunk at his feet.

Shit. Shit . Stede had told him they'd talk today, he'd said , and now he was- "Stede's gone?" Ed asked, right as Walter said "Doctor Bonnet checked out this morning."

Stede couldn't leave, not legally. 

Not if he was still planning to get divorced.

"Where did he go?" Ed tried like hell to keep the desperation out of his voice.

"Uh," Walter unceremoniously dropped the suitcase on top of the trunk, "I'm not supposed to tell you?"

"Stede said that?"

Walter shifted from one foot to the other, looking like he wanted to be anywhere else. "No, uh- dad did."

The blood in Ed's veins went ice-cold. 

"Herb told you that?" Walt nodded his confirmation. "Did he say why?" Walt shook his head, and opened his mouth to ask a question. Ed cut him off with a wave of his hand. "Finish loading up the truck, but- listen to me - don't go anywhere. We're not done here." 

He didn't wait for his half-brother's response. He had to talk to Herb.

+++

Herb was right where Ed knew he would be; sitting on the sunny back porch, reading the daily newspaper. Judging from how far along he was, he'd been reading it for hours. He didn't look up when Ed spoke.

"Stede checked out." Ed felt a little foolish, stating the obvious, but he couldn't think of anything else to say. Herb just nodded and turned the page. 

"Sit down or get out, Ed." Herb tipped his head toward the other chair on the patio. "I'm not having a conversation with you pacing and stomping your feet like a spooked horse." 

Ed wanted to argue, wanted to take his anxiety and point it at somebody, but he'd never won an argument with Herb yet, and luck was clearly not on his side today. He sat. "Herb-"

"Doctor Bonnet knocked on my door just after dawn and asked me to manage an early check-out for him. Said a whole bunch of pretty words about the fine service he'd had here and what a shame it was he couldn't stick around." The newspaper rustled as Herb folded it crisply in half and laid it down on his lap. "Seems the problem was that the stairs near his bedroom creaked a little too much. Kept him up all night. I offered to move him into Hornberry's old room, but he wouldn't hear it."

Ed was bewildered. "The stairs…?"

"Didn't make much sense to me, why he'd only have this complaint after three weeks, but you know me. I don't like to stick my nose in other people's business." His eyes were still trained down at the newspaper in his lap. "But the ranch is my business, Edward. I spent my life building this business, and I'm mighty proud of it."

It was the longest Ed had ever heard his stepfather speak all at once. Even now, in a stretch of silence, Ed knew better than to interrupt.

"Divorce is a messy thing. You've seen that. A successful divorce ranch has to stay above the mess, all the time. That's the trick. Discretion." Herb's voice was so steady, like he was laying out the plans for new cattle fencing. "Discretion and respectability. So when one of our guests, who always seemed happy here before, gets the itch to leave early on a Sunday morning, it would be indiscreet of me to ask any other questions. But if anything less than respectable happened here-"

"Herb-" Ed forced the name out.

"If anything less than respectable happened here," Herb repeated, "all it would take would be one complaint to destroy this place. One rumor. You understand?"

Ed understood. The air between them was suddenly heavy, crowded with a lifetime's worth of unasked questions and averted eyes. There were a dozen things he could say, should say, maybe, if he could only figure out where to begin. 

And then Herb unfolded his newspaper again, snapping it open in front of him with a practiced flick of the wrists, and Ed knew that their conversation was over.

+++

"Herb told me to take the luggage," Ed lied, "so let me know where to take it."

Walter snorted. "That's bull."

"No cussing in the house," Ed responded out of habit. He sighed and tried again. "Walt. Play ball with me here. All I need is where the guy went."

He watched Walter chew his lip, looking all at once much younger than his seventeen years. "C'mon, little man," he said, his voice catching at the nickname their mother used to use, "I need to make this right. Just do me one solid. I'll owe you."

"The Chevy." Walter said without pause, and whoa , Ed wasn't expecting a negotiation so quickly. "Every Friday night, I get the truck, all night. No curfew, no gas money."

Ed was almost impressed. "You must be out of your mind."

Walter shrugged, unbothered, and tucked his thumbs into his jeans pockets. "That's my offer, take it or leave it."

"Now wait a minute-"

There was a time, not that long ago, when Ed's little half-brother thought that he walked on water. As impressed as Ed was with Walt's sudden manful confidence, this would all be much easier if he was still being worshiped.

"The next three Friday nights," he offered, "you can have the truck."

" Every Friday. Until I have my own car."

Ed had to laugh at the audacity. "Until school starts again," he conceded, and watched the calculations in his brother's eyes. "Plus Homecoming weekend."

That clinched the deal. They spit and shook on it before loading the rest of Stede's luggage into the back of Queen Anne, and then Ed was on his way to the Hotel Riverside.

He made this mess, but he could clean it up, too. He owed it to Herb. And to Izzy.  But most of all, he owed it to Stede.

+++

As anxious as Ed was to get to Stede, he didn’t drive directly to the Hotel Riverside. No, if he was going on an apology tour, he might as well work his way up to the grand finale. So he pulled off of Virginia Street well before the electric signs and painted posters started crowding out the buildings, and made his way to a more familiar destination. Back to the scene of the crime.

It was only ten in the morning. Benji’s Barroom wouldn’t open for another five hours, but Ed wasn’t surprised when he pulled around the back and saw Izzy’s old Dodge parked there.

Ed rapped his knuckles against the bar’s entrance and waited a few seconds as a formality, before letting himself in. Izzy had left the door unlocked, not that it mattered- Ed had the spare key to the damned place, anyhow.

With all the lights on at once, the rich colors in the walls and draped ceiling made Benji’s Barroom resemble an elegant circus. The smell of last night’s cigarettes and beer still clung to every surface, and Roach’s drum kit was still onstage. To Ed’s surprise, the jukebox was running, playing a song Ed hadn’t heard since he was a kid.

Let's say goodbye with a smile, dear

Just for a while dear we must part

Don't let this parting upset you

I'll not forget you, sweetheart

We'll meet again

Don't know where

Don't know when

But I know we'll meet again some sunny day

Behind the bar, Izzy was meticulously counting out bottles of booze and jotting down notes, swaying back and forth ever so slightly along with the crooning of the old song. His back was turned, but everybody knew that Izzy Hands had eyes in the back of his head.

Ed cleared his throat, but Izzy didn’t turn, or even break his rhythm. 

“Iz-”

“No.”

He almost had to laugh at the surgical precision of Izzy’s snit. Almost. Instead, he bellied up to the bar, took a seat and waited. He intended to wait as long as it took for Izzy to warm up to him, but the thought of Stede out there doing God-knows-what wore at Ed’s patience, which was pretty thin even on a good day.

“So- how bad was it?” Ed started. Might as well fall on his sword right away.

Izzy’s shoulders rose and fell with a sigh. “Not nearly as bad as it could've been.” He turned around. “But don't take that to heart, Edward. We're both fucking lucky that Jackie was busy dealing with Jim while you were pulling your little stunt.”

“Who the hell is Jim?” Ed asked, then waved his hand in front of his face as if to dismiss his own question. “Forget it. And it wasn’t a stunt .”

“Should I call it a scene instead?” Izzy gritted out. “Because, what did you tell me when you brought a straight, married man into my bar? ‘Ooh, we’re not gonna make a scene, Iz, pull your head out of your-’”

Ed interrupted Izzy’s abysmal impression of his accent. “You’ve got it all wrong, man.”

“No, I’ve got it exactly right, Ed. Bringing him here was a risk, and you knew it. You’re taking stupid risks, and it’s because you’re bored. You’re bored of this town, and you’re angry about Jack, and you’re making it everybody else’s problem. You want to take risks? Fine.” he hissed. “Hit the casinos. Or go rope a bull, I don’t care. But don’t you dare take another fucking risk in my bar.”

There was truth in what Izzy was saying, maybe more than Ed was ready to think about, but he was flat wrong, too. “Stop saying that this is about Jack. It’s not about Jack, and it hasn’t been in years. Honest. Yeah, I was stupid about Jack for a long time, and then I learned my fucking lesson, all right?

“Did you? Because last night, I watched you chase after a man who’s not good enough for you, and who doesn’t want you. Again.”

It took a real effort for Ed to temper the flare of anger that shot through his blood. “Stede wants me. We-” Ed paused, conflicted about how much to share. “He cares about me, all right? He’s just- confused. It’s all new to him, and I guess I came on too strong. Scared him.”

Izzy rolled his eyes. “Scared him? He's a grown man, Edward.”

“So am I!” Ed blurted before he could think. He took a breath. “So am I. I'm as grown as you are, mate. I'm not a kid anymore. And neither is Jack, or Annie, for that matter. You can’t control our lives. You can’t-”

“I can't what?” Izzy snarled from behind the bar, like a caged animal snapping at its handler.

They'll be happy to know

That as I saw you go

You were singing this song

We'll meet again

Don't know where

Don't know when

Understanding hit Ed like a freight train. The old song was still playing on the jukebox, soft and sad. “You can't freeze everything the way it was when Ben was here.” He braced for an argument that never came. Izzy's eyes widened, then narrowed, then closed. “Life goes on, man.”

For a moment, it seemed like Izzy was appeased, or at least diverted, but then his eyes snapped open again. “Nice try, kid. You can talk pretty all you want, but this isn’t about me and you know it. This is about you causing a scene, dragging some married man in here to get your kicks-”

“Izzy, he means something to me.” Ed laid his palms flat on the dark wood of the bar. “I should have listened to you, yeah. I made the wrong bet and lost. I screwed up, I’ll tell you that right now. And maybe I screwed it up with Stede, too. But if I didn't…” 

Ed didn’t have the words to finish that sentence. Not yet. But Izzy, perceptive as he was, heard them all the same, and when he heaved a sigh, it wasn’t entirely aggravation. “Fine. What do you want me to tell you? That I’m not pissed at you? You know I am. You want my blessing to go after this guy?” He met Ed’s eyes and weighed what he saw there. “I can’t give it to you, ‘cause you don’t need it. You’re a grown man, Edward. Go act like it.”

The eye contact between them lasted for another second, or maybe two, before Izzy turned away to finish his inventory. 

And then there was nowhere left for Ed to go but to find Stede. 

+++

It was easy enough to get Stede's room number, once he was at the Hotel Riverside. Easy enough to get waved into the elevator bank, too. There wasn’t a building in Reno that Ed Teach couldn’t talk his way into.

Stede’s room was in the fanciest part of the hotel, of course- top floor, probably facing the river. Ed tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for the elevator, and then tapped his other foot as the elevator carried him up to the sixth floor at a snail’s pace. He’d left Stede’s trunks and bags and suitcases at the front desk, with strict instructions that they weren’t to be brought up until Stede called down and asked for them.

He just needed a little time with Stede alone. If the fear twisting in his gut was right, Stede was planning to leave Reno. Maybe Ed had ruined things with Stede, but he couldn’t be the reason he went back to Chicago, to his wife. Stede deserved better than that. 

When Ed reached the room that he knew was Stede's he paused. This was it. Ed scrubbed his hands over his jaw- the morning had moved so quickly that he hadn’t even shaved. He ran his palms over the front of his pants, cleared his throat, and knocked. 

Silence. 

He knocked again. Some time between ten seconds and eternity passed, and then the door opened, just a few inches. Just enough to see Stede’s face, his lips parted in a surprised, unvoiced ‘oh’. 

If Ed had thought he was ready for this conversation, he was dead wrong. Even just that first glimpse of Stede’s face knocked all the thoughts out of his head. The loving declaration he composed in the shower that morning, the sober apologies he worked out on the drive over, they were all gone, replaced by-

“Stede.”

The door closed in his face.

All the breath left Ed's body at once. He had known it wasn't going to be easy, but now that he was really here, the possibility of outright rejection was almost more than he could handle.  Exhausted but not defeated, he leaned his forehead against the door and waited.

The voice from the other side was almost too quiet to understand. “Why are you here?” 

A dozen answers clamored in Ed’s brain, all true. He wanted to apologize, to beg for forgiveness, to soothe Stede’s panic, to negotiate, to try again. The answer that won out may have been the least helpful of all, even if it was the most true. “I had to see you again.”

After another long pause, the door slowly opened again. Without a word, Stede stood to the side to let Ed in.

"Well," he said quietly. "Here I am."

Stede was wearing a golden yellow robe over long pajama pants and slippers. He had obviously recently come out of the shower, and he still radiated warmth from it, enough that Ed could feel it when he walked past Stede into the room. His hair was damp, and whatever  magic he usually worked on his curls was nowhere to be seen. 

All together, the sight of Stede was so soft and private that Ed felt like he was spoiling it just by being in the same room. Nerves flared in his gut, and he averted his eyes politely as Stede pulled the robe tighter across his chest and re-tied the sash. 

Ed gave a low whistle as he took in the room. It was quite the change from Herb’s warm and rustic ranch. The carpet was a lush sea-blue, and it matched the shining patterned wallpaper that clung to the walls, making Ed feel a little bit like he was stuck in a gift-wrapped box.. The bed was sea-blue, the armchairs were sea-blue, even the curtain covering half of the floor-to-ceiling windows was sea-blue. 

All that blue made Stede, with his yellow hair and his yellow robe, stick out like a goldfish in a fishbowl- or no, more like the sun blazing in a cloudless sky. Ed fiddled self-consciously at his old black work shirt and wondered what that made him. 

While Ed looked around, Stede quickly crossed over to the tall window by the bed and draw the curtains closed, as if worried that somebody across the river would peer inside and see him in a room with Ed. 

“This is some room,” Ed said, just to fill the air. “Very, uh- blue. Did you ask them special to match the room to your luggage, or was that just luck?”

The briefest shadow of a smile crossed Stede’s face, chased by a look of schooled politeness. “My luggage. Of course, thank you for bringing my luggage. That was- kind of you. All things considered.”

“All things considered, sure." Ed echoed flatly.  "You’re welcome.”

“Ed,” Stede stood in the middle of the room and wrung his wrists as he began what seemed like a rehearsed speech. “I hope you know how important your friendship has been to me. You know I’ve never had a friend before. Not- not a real one. Even if I had, I'm sure I would still cherish your friendship, but- well, I haven't.” 

“Uh-huh.”

“So if I ever- led you on, or made you think that I-” the carefully-planned words got caught up in Stede's mouth, and he had to take a breath while he rocked on his feet, unmoored on all that blue carpet. “Look. Last night, you kissed me. As you know. And I- I think it was because I’m no good at friendship, I don’t know how to do it properly, and because I was confused, I got you confused. I am sorry for that, and- and I think it would be best for both of us if we simply never mention it again. We'll be friends again, and we'll just… leave last night in the past.”

Ed cocked his head, sure that he had misheard. “Did I hear you say that you’re sorry?”

“Of course I am.” Stede looked so sincere, so vulnerable, that it was easy to forget that Ed was the one who was supposed to be apologizing. “Before you… kissed me, I caused quite a scene, and in front of all of your friends. I'm sure they hate me now, and I can't blame them. I can only hope that you don't-"

“I don’t hate you, Stede.” Ed interrupted.

“Oh. Good.” Stede’s voice was so small when he replied, “I don’t think I could stand it if you did.”

Ed rubbed the back of his neck. “Jeeze, I should be the one apologizing to you . I was way out of line, when I, uh- when we were out there in the Chevy, I mean. That wasn't- you didn't ask me to. You didn't lead me on or anything like that, so…" He tried desperately not to think about the way Stede had panted his name while running his hands up his thighs. 

"So if you wanna say last night never happened, fine. It never happened. I’ll even- I’ll stay away from you, if that’s what you want.” The words burned in Ed’s mouth like a hot coal. “If that's what it takes to keep you here. But, please, mate- don’t let my stupid mistake be the reason you go back.”

“Go back?” Stede’s nose wrinkled the way it always did when he was surprised. 

“Back to your wife,” Ed tried not to spit the word out. “Back to Chicago.”

Stede laughed- just for a second, not nearly long enough, but to a man who thought he might never hear that laugh again, it was like cool water in a desert. "Edward. I'm not going back to my wife. No, I believe that ship has sailed."

"What?" Ed blurted inelegantly. "But- you checked out of the ranch. You have to stay in one-"

"In one residence for the duration of the six weeks, I know, I know . I panicked, all right? I panicked and I ran away, that's what I'm good at. After you kissed me, I thought- well, I wasn’t thinking, or I thought I'd figure something out. I'm sure there's somebody in this city I could pay - oh, don't look at me that way, Ed!" Stede was pacing and wringing his hands, every part of him in motion until he came to a halt in front of Ed. "I wouldn't be in this situation at all if you hadn't- hadn't kissed me!”

The reminder sobered Ed. “I know. You’re right.”

“Why would you do a thing like that, anyhow?” Stede pulled his robe tighter.

“Are you asking me why I kissed you?” Because I had to. Because you’re all I think about. Because I might be in love with you. “I thought you wanted to leave last night in the past?”

“I did! I do!” Stede’s voice was creeping higher. “But I think I’m entitled to an answer.”

There was no answer Ed could give that Stede wanted to hear, but he was entitled to one. “Yeah, I reckon you’re right about that.”

“I don’t exactly make a habit of kissing men in parking lots, you know.”

Ed almost laughed, but caught himself just in time. “Never thought you did. And neither do I, Stede, for what it’s worth.”

“Oh, it’s not the same thing and you know it.” There he was- the bitchy, defensive Stede that Ed usually loved drawing out. But now was not the time for pushing Stede's buttons.

So Ed just nodded and agreed, whatever he had to do to smooth things over. “You’re right. It’s not the same thing.”

“Stop saying that!” Stede snapped. Ed paused, unsure what he had said. Stede drew his fingers up to his temples as his voice continued rising, “You’re so sure about who’s right and who’s wrong, as if you know everything , and I-”

Before he could second-guess himself, Ed crossed over to Stede and pulled his hands out of his hair. Wordlessly, he soothed the hysterical man. It was nothing like an embrace. Ed kept his distance, only touching Stede’s shaking hands with his own, circling his thumbs over them as Stede struggled with the rhythm of his breaths. He kept his eyes trained down at where their hands met, afraid to look at Stede’s face. Afraid that if he did, he would see something there that was too hard to walk away from.

Finally, Stede’s breathing evened out. “I’m sorry,” he said with his hands still in Ed’s. “You’ve just got me confused.”

Ed swallowed. “I'm sorry. I’ll leave if you ask me to.”

“I did, didn’t I?” Stede flexed his hands in Ed’s loose grip, but he didn’t pull them away.

“Nah. Not yet.” Ed’s heart was racing, but whether it was from the hand holding, or the conversation, or just his proximity to an unprecedented stretch of Stede’s bare throat, he didn’t know.  “So is that, uh- are you asking me to leave?”

"No!" 

"Then what do you want me to do?" Ed fought to keep his voice even.

“I'm not- that’s not the point!” Stede finally pulled his hands away, but he didn’t step back.

Frustration, impatience and confusion crowded out the worry in Ed’s heart. “What the hell is the point, then, Stede?”

“The point is, I wouldn’t know what to do!” Stede shouted, then clapped his hands over his mouth. Ed watched his chest rise and fall like waves on the rocks, back on the islands they both called home. 

When he looked up, Stede's face was impossibly flushed. Even with the robe drawn tight around his chest, Ed could see the way the pink traveled down the line of his neck. 

When Stede spoke again, his voice trembled. “I’m afraid- I won’t know how .”

Ed remembered Stede's frustration with the games of chance at the casino, and he understood. He watched Stede’s eyes flicker down to his lips, then back to his eyes, and he understood. 

He took a careful breath as he watched Stede watch him, all too aware now just how quickly this could all go wrong. 

“What if you started,” he said slowly, “by putting the Do Not Disturb sign on the door?”

+++

Ed watched Stede walk away with his heart thumping in his chest. The thumping sped up when he saw the door open and close, and again when he heard the solid click when Stede turned the deadbolt. 

Oh God, Stede turned the deadbolt.

Oh God, was this really going to happen?

Then they were standing face-to-face again, staring silently, bodies tense, each waiting for the other to speak.

Finally, Stede cracked. "The part with the door went smoothly, I think."

Ed laughed, and then Stede laughed, and for a glorious second all the tension melted away between them. Ed had thought once that just making Stede laugh could be enough to satisfy him, and in that moment, he almost believed it again.

Then Stede’s laugh stuttered to a halt, like a lawnmower running out of gas. 

"What happens now?" he asked.

Ed swallowed. "What do you want?" he asked, and wasn't that the question of the hour. The question of the summer, really. Maybe even the question of Edward Teach's whole life. And God help them both, Stede Bonnet was the only person who could answer it.

Stede's eyes flickered around the room. "What would we be doing now, if I was a man- a man you brought home from that bar?"

The question lit a spark in Ed's belly, just under the twist of anxiety that was already there. His instinct was to protect Stede's sensibilities, to deflect, to do whatever he could to avoid scaring the man away. Again. But on the other hand- Stede could have asked him anything, and that was the question on his mind.

So Ed chose honesty.

"I guess around now," he said in a low voice, "I hope you'd be undressing me."

He watched Stede's hands twitch and flex as his eyes darted- they landed on Ed's face, his neck, and Ed didn't miss the way they lingered at his crossed arms. But it wasn't just lust- Stede looked like he was doing an equation in his head. Conjugating Greek, or maybe Latin- whichever was harder. Ed took mercy on him. “But you’re not a man I brought home from the bar, are you, Stede?”

"No," Stede agreed quickly. "For one thing, it’s eleven in the morning.”

This time, Ed's laugh was a short, breathy thing, the first puff out of a train that was about to pick up speed. He took a step toward Stede, halving the distance between them, and waited for Stede to finish the job.

He didn't wait long. Stede stepped in, close enough to rest his hands on Ed's chest- exactly close enough, since that was exactly what Stede did next, with a touch so light that Ed could barely believe it was real.

"Ed," he whispered, "I've never felt this way at eleven in the morning before."

"What way do you feel, Stede?"

Stede bit his lips. "You know."

"Tell me."

Slowly, Stede dragged his eyes up to meet Ed's and looked at him through light lashes. His throat bobbed when he swallowed. "Amorous." 

If Ed had any thoughts about Stede's word choice, they were forgotten when Stede coasted his fingers over his chest, to fiddle with the top button of Ed's shirt. "So I just-?"

Ed held his breath and nodded, afraid to say anything or make any sudden movements that could stop Stede in his tracks. He watched Stede's fingers as they carefully unbuttoned the first three buttons of his shirt, revealing a sliver of his chest. Exposing his heart. 

When Stede’s fingers started trembling, Ed covered them with his own, halting them. Stede raised his eyes, filled with terror and longing.

"You've never done any of this before." Ed asked him. This , any of this, all of this- Ed knew the answer, but there was knowing and then there was knowing .

Stede shook his head, a gesture small enough that Ed might have missed it if his eyes weren't locked in Stede's incredible, expressive tri-color eyes.

"But you've thought about it." 

Those eyes squeezed shut. Stede bit his lips and- just as small as before, he nodded yes .

The breath Ed had been holding- for three weeks, it felt like- escaped his lungs at last. He took a new one. "So tell me what you want.”

Stede's eyes were still closed, his lips open, his hands clutching at Ed’s like a lifeline. “Anything. Anything you want.”

"No." Ed heard himself say, and he dropped Stede's hands. "No, I need you to-" He grasped at the air in front of him, like he could wring the lapels of Stede's silky robe. "I need to know that you're in this with me, Stede, do you understand? I can't do it if I'm wondering whether you really want me, or you're just confused." He took a breath and hoped it didn't sound as jagged as it felt. "I'm through with guessing, or- or hoping- I need-"

"I want it." Stede interrupted. He took a breath and his eyes opened at last. "I want you."

The words were music to Ed’s ears, everything he had hoped for, but in that moment, they still weren’t enough. “I need you to give me more than that, Stede. I know it’s not easy, but- I need you to try.”

“I want-" Stede wet his lips. "Would you kiss me, again? Please. That's what I want.”

There was nothing tentative about this kiss. No room for confusion or misunderstanding, no rainstorm pushing them together, no car windows between them. Just Ed’s lips on Stede’s, slow and warm and deliberate.

Stede actually whined when Ed pulled away, a rough hitch that came from the back of his throat. For a moment, Ed worried that he was going to cry. Then, like a spring-loaded toy, he threw his arms around Ed's waist and did his level best to eat Ed alive. 

His kisses were clumsy and demanding, and so were his hands, but God, they left no lingering doubts about what Stede Bonnet wanted. 

Slowly, carefully, Ed moved his hand to Stede's jaw, forcing him to temper his enthusiasm. Soon Stede gentled under his touch and opened into the kiss. Ed gave a low rumble of approval, snaking his other hand over Stede’s shoulder to the back of his neck, holding his head in place as he enjoyed his warm, perfect mouth.

They were standing chest to chest in the middle of the blue hotel room, just kissing with no hurry or rush. Stede's arms were still around Ed's waist- like they were at a school dance, Ed thought to himself, and his fingertips were softly, gently circling on the small of Ed's back. It was just enough to keep Ed constantly aware of the fabric between them- Ed’s half-buttoned shirt and Stede’s fine robe.

He let his hand drift lower, tracing the line of Stede’s throat to where the bright yellow edge of Stede's robe lay against the bright pink of his chest. But like a flash, Stede reached up and grabbed Ed's wrist. 

"I think- I’d like to keep my robe on." he said bashfully, pulling the fabric closer around his waist again, then leaned into another quick kiss, as if to reassure Ed.

"Well," Ed's eyes sparkled as their lips parted, "everybody draws the line somewhere."

Their next kiss wasn’t quick. No, this time they stayed together until they were both breathless. Stede never stopped moving, clutching at him, pulling him closer, gently tugging at his half-open shirt. 

“Off- can you? Off?” was all Stede could manage between tastes of Ed’s lips. Ed wanted to tease, to push back- ‘ so yours stays on but mine has to go?’ but the part of his brain that was still functioning was yelling something about looking a gift horse in the mouth, so he complied, pushing away from Stede just long enough to untuck his shirt, pull it over his head, and toss it onto the couch behind them.

When he turned back to Stede, he was staring, taking in his bare arms and chest with wide eyes. 

“Ed,” Stede’s voice cracked, and he brought a hand to his mouth in mortification. Without thinking, Ed reached for the hand and drew it away, hoping that the gesture said, ‘don’t be embarrassed’, hoping that it said ‘you’re perfect’. 

But Stede had a message of his own to give. He turned their hands so that he was holding Ed’s, then, gently, softly , he brought the back of Ed’s fingers to his lips and pressed a kiss there, like a knight in a movie might kiss the hand of his fair maiden.

Something inside of Ed shifted. All at once he understood that the man standing in front of him- this strange, spectacular jewel of a man- just might be the most important person in his life. A realization like that should frighten him, he knew, but instead it made him feel almost calm. He stoked his thumb down the soft line of Stede’s jaw and smiled.

“Stede,” he said, relishing the little gasp he felt more than heard, “do you think you can put on some music?”

+++

The radio was playing something or other- Ed didn’t know much about classical music, but Stede had hummed with satisfaction when he found it, so it must be good. Ed’s blue jeans were folded on the couch next to his shirt, and his work boots were resting on the carpet, right next to Stede’s pristine slippers.

And on the bedspread, Stede Bonnet and Edward Teach were laying on their sides, facing each other and grinning ear-to-ear. They’d been like that for a while, alternating between gentle kisses and conversation and just plain staring at each other like they couldn’t believe they were finally here. Stede’s eyes and hands were roving over Ed, charting the lines of his arms, his neck, his lips.

“You didn’t shave.” Stede pointed out, dragging his fingertips over the roughness on Ed’s cheek.

“Well,” Ed nuzzled into the touch, “It’s been a strange morning.”

Stede snorted in agreement, and his fingers followed the line of stubble down Ed’s neck. “I like it.”

“Yeah?”

“I think so.” Stede dragged his fingers across the hair on Ed's chest and stomach- over it, not through it, like he was appraising silk sheets. “This, too.”

It was just about the gentlest touch Ed had ever felt- at least, until Stede's hand slid lower, brushing the side of his hand against the cotton-clad length of Ed's prick, quick and light enough that it could almost be passed off as an accident, had Stede not held his breath to do it.

"Relax," Ed murmured to both of them, "just relax."

They pulled away a hair, still facing each other on their sides. Ed fought the urge to take over, to crawl into Stede's lap or haul him into his arms. He brought both hands to Stede's face, cupped his jaw and smiled. He waited for Stede to meet his eyes.

"Talk to me, Stede."

"How-" Stede tried to continue, but nothing came out. He swallowed. "How are we doing so far, would you say?"

Ed let go of Stede’s face when he fell onto his back and roared with laughter. "How are we-? Stede, you lunatic." He groped his hand to the side and squeezed Stede's arm. It was a reassurance: ‘I'm not laughing at you, sweetheart, I'm just delighted’. Stede seemed to understand, because he gave a chuckle and shuffled in closer, reclaiming the contact they had lost only a moment ago. As if he couldn't bear to not be touching Ed- and hell, maybe Ed understood the feeling.

"Stede, mate. We are doing well. We are doing-" Ed rolled himself onto his side again, but now they were closer, pressed chest to chest, nearly nose to nose. Ed could feel Stede's breath on his chin. "we are doing very well. Are you- mmm, are you having a nice time?"

"Yes." Stede answered instantly. "Ed, could you kiss me again, please?"

It took no time at all to join their lips together again, and then hands were wandering, too. Ed felt the silky fabric of Stede’s robe dance over the muscles of Stede's arms, and Stede ghosted his fingers over the skin on Ed's ribs, his side, his hip, and this time, he was breathing. Every breath seemed to bring him more confidence. Soon, his hand was slinking between them, trailing along the waistband of Ed’s briefs while Ed whispered little nothing-words of approval.

Stede hummed with discovery, dropping his hand down for a proper squeeze at last, and when Ed let out a small gasp of pleasure, he matched it. Encouraged by the sound, Ed snuck his own hand to Stede's waist, just inside the wrap of the golden robe. He palmed the swell of Stede's dick through his trunks, then felt every muscle in Stede's body go rigid all at once. 

He snatched his hand back, worry already on his lips.

"Are you-" he started to say, just as Stede said "Come back!" and grabbed his hand. He guided it back between his legs and pressed it there. "I'm ready. I'm ready."

Ed took a deep breath, calling on every ounce of self-control he had as his hand lay trapped between Stede’s palm and Stede’s cock. “You don’t have to be ready right now. Honest. We can go slow, okay? We can go slow.”

Stede twitched under Ed's palm, and he let out a small huff. “Do we have to?” he asked earnestly. 

A new, slow grin spread over Ed’s face, “Well, when you put it that way-” 

Whatever Stede was going to say next became an undignified grunt as Ed squeezed him through the fabric. Stede jerked his hips forward, and lord have mercy, all of Ed's plans for patience and moderation went right out the window. He pushed Stede's shoulders back against the bed and climbed on top of him, slotting their legs. Their gentle exploration was forgotten as they rutted against each other, and Stede whimpered and gasped as Ed kissed his lips, his jaw, his neck.

He moved lower and parted the top of Stede’s robe to nuzzle at his chest, delighting in the solid width of it, in the light hair growing in the center of it. His thumb traced a nipple and Stede hissed, bringing a hand to Ed's hair and grabbing on.

"Mmmhmm," he looked up at Stede and smirked, "terrific instincts."

Opening Stede's robe inch by inch was like parting a curtain, revealing an act, and Stede was a surprisingly eager performer. By the time Ed kissed his way down to the belly button, Stede was all but pushing his head down further, inching his hips up eagerly. 

Still, Ed looked up for permission when his thumbs tucked under the waistband of Stede's pajama pants and briefs. The 'yes' came quickly and with more of a squeak than was strictly sexy, but who cared, because Stede's dick was out now, pink and hard and begging to be tasted.

He could feel Stede's legs trembling, he could almost feel the warmth radiating from his body flaring and flickering like fire. Stede stared down at him, mouth panting already and eyes blown dark, and Ed stared right back as he wrapped his lips around the tip of Stede’s dick.

The sound Stede made was wordless and divine, a perfect accompaniment to the refined music still playing in the room. The hands in Ed’s hair tightened, and Ed groaned his encouragement as he sank his mouth lower, taking Stede down right to the base. 

After a minute, he pulled off to breathe and kiss along the inside of his thighs, nuzzling into the soft skin and fine hair there. Stede, who apparently had a one-track mind, whimpered and urged him gently back up toward his dick, and Ed grinned as he obeyed, winking at Stede before slipping him back into his mouth.

It only took a minute or maybe two of Ed's mouth on him before Stede's exclamations shifted from pleased to desperate.

"Ed, Ed ! That's-" Stede gasped, thrusting up into his mouth. One of his hands released Ed's hair and migrated down to Ed’s shoulder, sinking his nails into it as he started to shake, and then Stede was coming, shoving himself up on his elbows so that his belly was pressed against Ed's forehead. The shocked, blissful noises that spilled out of his mouth as Ed swallowed him down were better than any music.

Stede's shoulders heaved as he looked down at Ed, whose shoulders might've been doing some heaving of their own. "Come up here," he gasped, and pushed a curl off of Ed's sweaty forehead. 

First, Ed carefully tucked Stede back in and even wrapped his robe back around him, remembering his earlier modesty. Then he complied, crawling up over Stede's panting body until they were nose-to-nose again. He watched Stede's face grow thoughtful again as he felt Ed stiff against his thigh. 

“Take it out,” Stede whispered, “I want to see it.”

“Yeah?” Ed could hardly believe it when Stede whined and nodded emphatically. He made a little show of it, bringing himself up to kneeling, hooking his thumbs in his briefs and slowly pulled them down, revealing his erection to Stede. 

Stede’s reaction was just like Ed hoped it would be, all wide eyes and parted lips and breathlessness as Ed shuffled his briefs off and tossed them off the bed before settling back in on top of Stede’s hips.

“Do you want to touch?” Ed asked. His voice was so rough that he startled even himself.

Stede shook his head no, but his hands fluttered to Ed’s thighs. When it became clear that he wasn’t going to go any further, Ed nodded his understanding. 

“You want to watch?”

“Mmhmm. I think so.” Stede’s answer was louder than a whisper, but not by much.

“Ask me, then.” He thought he’d have to push harder, coax Stede through this last trial, but the man surprised him yet again.

“Ed, please, you have to.” Stede begged him. “Touch yourself for m-” the last word got tangled up in his lips.

“For you?” Ed smiled down at him. He’d never seen anything as beautiful as Stede Bonnet between his legs, staring up at him in awe. As Ed took himself in his hand, he lowered his voice as if he was offering a secret. “It’s all for you, sweetheart.”

Ed felt like a god, kneeling above Stede.

Stede’s soft hands never left Ed’s body, sometimes tracing circles on Ed's hips with his thumbs and sometimes rolling up and down his thighs like the tides.  He was moaning like he was the one getting stroked, like he was starving for it, like he hadn’t just come in Ed’s mouth a few moments prior. Ed licked his lips, remembering. 

He could feel the silky material of Stede’s robe between his thighs, and that sensation, along with the rhythmic rocking of Stede’s hips under him, was almost more than he could handle. 

When Stede moaned a word that sounded a little like “closer,” Ed didn’t hesitate. He dove down, catching himself with his free hand and crouching above Stede. He fucked faster into the curl of his own palm, on his hands and knees just inches above the other man, close enough for his knuckles to graze the lapels of the robe. Close enough to take in the landscape of Stede Bonnet below him. His cheeks were deep red, his skin damp with sweat. Short tendrils of curls were flat against his forehead, and his eyes- his eyes were locked on Ed’s cock, like it was a beacon light guiding him home.

It was the devotion in his eyes that was tipping Ed over the edge. "Stede, I'm going to come." Ed warned between heaving breaths.

"Oh God, please," Stede begged, “do it.”

"Your robe-" Ed forced himself to say, "I'll ruin it."

That pulled another enthusiastic groan out of Stede, the maniac, and Ed’s pace increased. Then the warning must have sunk in, because Stede jerked his robe open, exposing that gorgeous canvas of endless chest just in time for Ed to paint it with his come, stuttering out Stede’s name in a voice that sounded as shocked as Stede’s expression. 

Everything went hazy for a while after that.

The bathroom of Stede's hotel room was as pink as the rest of the room was blue, all pearlescent and clean like the inside of a shell. Even the lush towels displayed against the wall were pink and red. It was ridiculous. It was perfect. There was nowhere Ed would rather be.

He grinned at himself in the mirror, disheveled and sweaty- Stede’s sweat mixed with his own, he realized with a thrill. God, Ed could live to be a hundred, and he wasn't going to forget the sight of Stede Bonnet's heaving chest, wet with sweat and striped with come.

When he spied a terry cloth robe hanging on the back of the door- pink and red, of course- he didn’t hesitate to slip it on, or to admire the way it looked in the mirror. And when he saw the crystal decanter of mouthwash on the counter, he helped himself to a swig. 

When Ed finally headed out with two washcloths, one wet and one dry, Stede was still lying boneless on the big blue bed, but the heels of his hands were pressed hard against his closed eyes. Ed swore under his breath and hurried over.

"Hey- hey-" he awkwardly muttered as he perched on the edge of of the bed, "Stede, don't, uh- you don't have to-" he had no idea how he intended to end that thought, so he put himself to work. "I'm gonna clean you up now, yeah?" When he got no response, he swiped at the mess on Stede's chest carefully, first with the wet cloth and then with the dry. Stede's chest rose and fell along with the gentle pressure, and Ed could hear him mumble something that vaguely resembled thanks. 

"There you go. Good as new. I'll just-" he moved to stand up, but Stede grabbed onto the sleeve of Ed's borrowed bathrobe before he could pull away. Ed froze and waited for Stede to speak or move or even open his eyes. 

Stede did none of those things.

So maybe Ed was a little naive to think that everything was going to be smooth from here on out.

Still, they had made it this far, and it wasn't even noon. Ed squeezed Stede's hand, still clutching at the bathrobe sleeve, and then gingerly lowered himself back onto the bed. They lay shoulder to shoulder, facing the ceiling, just listening to the strains of whatever symphony was coming from the radio across the room.

Eventually the silence started to eat at Ed.

"Stede?" he asked, still staring straight up at the ceiling. "Say something, man."

A huff of breath shot out of Stede's mouth, close enough for Ed to feel. His voice was unnaturally chipper, and tinged with something Ed didn't quite recognize. "I think I understand why that's illegal, now."

Funny how Stede could make Ed smile even when he was worried sick. "That good, huh?" Ed leaned his shoulder in to nudge at Stede's and was rewarded with a small chuckle from the man lying next to him. 

"Yes," Stede agreed frankly, "that good. But-"

Ed bit his tongue. He didn't ask, didn't push. Stede would finish his thought when he was ready.

"Why are you being so good to me?" he asked at last. "I was so awful to you last night. I ran away, and you- followed me. You found me. Why would you do that? And then- I mean- why me?"

A flare of anger rose up in Ed, aimed at whatever or whoever had made Stede Bonnet think he wasn't worth finding. "Look at me, can you?" Stede shook his head. 

Ed sighed. "Right, then. Stede, you mean something to me. Maybe I should have said that to you plainer before we, y'know. But I meant it when I said you're not some man I brought home from the bar.” His chest rose and fell. “You're a lot more than that, as far as I'm concerned."

Stede made a little humming sound, which Ed took as encouragement to continue. "This morning, when I saw you were gone… all I could think was I needed to see you again. Just one more time, even. God-" he took a breath and considered his words. "That's all I've wanted, probably, ever since I saw you at the top of those stairs. Just to see you one more time. Talk to you one more time. And then when I do, I just need one more after that. Is that-"

Is that stupid? Ed wanted to ask. Is that too much, or not enough, or- 

"That's how I feel, too." Stede said quietly. "I like you, Ed. You- you mean something to me. I feel…"

Ed didn't know which of them moved his hand first, but then Stede's soft, warm hand was holding his, fingers laced together, as pure and sweet as anything. The gesture filled Ed up with a tenderness that he hadn't felt in years, maybe ever. He stopped worrying about who was going to speak next, or what they were going to tell Herb, or any of the other worries in the back of his head.

There was nothing he couldn't handle with Stede Bonnet's hand in his.

Stede broke the silence, in the end. "Are we going to do this again?"

The corner of Ed's mouth twisted into a smirk. "If you want me to, I'll do this every day for- for as long as you want me to."

Even now, they weren't looking at each other, but the way Stede's thumb was tracing a path over Ed's wrist was as intimate as anything they had done that morning. 

"I want you to." There was very little hesitation in Stede's voice. 

Ed squeezed Stede's hand and shifted toward him, just enough to face him. "You want it enough to look at me?"

It only took a second for Stede to meet Ed's eyes. 

They broke into bashful smiles at the exact same moment, perfect mirrors of pleasure and promise.

Chapter Text

Sunday, July 5, 1959

Thirty-three years of living life in the darkness.

Three weeks in Reno, shielding his eyes from the sun.

And now, all at once and at just the right time, Stede Bonnet had stepped into the light.

It was- well, it was terrifying. A great weight had been lifted from his shoulders, but without that weight keeping him tethered, mightn't he rise too high and then fall, like Icarus? The warmth of this new sun was the most delicious thing he had ever felt, but then again, the Bonnets had always been prone to sunburn.

Those were the worries he finally whispered into Ed's shoulder, once the dam broke. It was a different kind of release, sharing his most intimate fears with another person. One he had never imagined.

They spent the day together in the blue haze of the Hotel Riverside. The delivery of a room service lunch required Stede to dress himself, but after their sandwiches were eaten and the plates set in the hallway outside, he let Ed undress him again, those clever fingers stripping him bare, those deep brown eyes taking him in like he was a feast, like he was a treasure.

And then Ed was bare again, too. Every part of him was available to Stede, from the powerful strength of his shoulder blades to the extraordinary black hair dusting his knuckles. 

He was more than Stede could have imagined- and he had imagined, he finally admitted to Ed and to himself. The walls that Stede had built inside himself were as tall and twisted as the Labyrinth- and there was Icarus again, Stede remembered- but with Ed warm pressed against his side, maybe Stede could make his way out through touch alone.

Yes, Stede had imagined. With eyes squeezed closed and heart pounding and fear shrouding him, he had imagined. But it was all the things he never even considered that Stede found that loved the most.

He never imagined, for example, Ed fluttering his eyelids closed when he took Stede into his mouth, or the staccato breaths coming out of Ed’s nose to warm Stede’s belly. He never even thought to imagine Ed reaching up to take Stede’s left hand in his right and squeezing , always seeking yet another point of connection.

That afternoon, Stede learned what he tasted like when he kissed himself off of Ed’s lips, and later, he learned what it felt like to take another man’s cock in his own mouth. Ed taught him how with their fingers interlaced again. 

Stede never wanted to let that hand go.

His nights with Mary, infrequent as they were, had always made Stede feel like he was solving a confounding puzzle. Where to put his hands, how to move his body, what to look at- he was guessing at all of it, really, and the uncertainty overwhelmed any pleasure he may have felt. To say nothing of the mystery of Mary's pleasure, yet another knot to untangle.

But when he was with Ed, his body and his mind were finally working together. 

He wasn't some overnight Casanova- but, goodness, the difference was night and day. For the first time, it felt natural . They made each other whine and gasp, but they laughed just as much. The first time Ed laughed, Stede's face burned with shame, but then the agony was kissed from his cheeks and a new kind of heat replaced it. 

When they had finally touched and tasted and teased to the point of satisfaction, the sun had already set. It was only then that their murmuring turned into practical conversation- specifically, the matter of Stede returning to the ranch.

"Herb will be glad to have you back," Ed assured him, although his voice betrayed his uncertainty. "You can just tell him- I don't know, you realized your mistake?"

The shock of worry that Stede had held at bay all day started spreading through Stede's body. "I really did make a mess of everything, didn't I?" he sniffed self-consciously.

"Nah." Ed brushed a curl back on Stede's forehead. His fingertips wandered from there, tracing over the shell of Stede's ear. "Well, maybe. Bit of a mess. Nothing we can't fix."

Stede blinked back his gratitude. "You really think so?"

"Yeah, I do. Now, the way I see it, we've got two ways to go. We can head back now- well," his fingers grazed over Stede's disheveled curls, "we can head back soon , and get you settled back in tonight. Or you can stay here, since you paid for the room already, and I can come back and pick you up in the morning. What do you think?"

"Or-" Stede had already had more than he thought possible, but still he asked for more- "could you stay here tonight? And we could- together?" 

Ed's hand stilled. Before Stede could apologize- is that too much, is that not something men do together, is Stede a fool for wanting it - Ed cleared his throat.

"Stede," he began, with a voice sweet and low enough to soften any blow, "that sounds like heaven. It does. But- folks saw me come in here this morning. How would it look if I stayed all night? There's only one bed."

"Only one bed," Stede repeated quietly. "You're right, of course. I'm sorry, I- I've never done any of this before." 

Any of it, all of it- he'd done it now. It was real now. And he hadn't even thought about- how would it look? If anyone suspected, or knew the way Stede took his pleasure from Edward- if they heard him gasp 'please' and 'again'- they would know everything. About the years of pretending not to-

Just when Stede was going to fly away with worry, he felt the weight of Ed's solid arms around his shoulders. It was just enough to keep him grounded.

"Stede, mate." Ed muttered, lips pressed against the crown of his head. "Hey. Hey. You're all right. Stay right here, okay?" Stede nodded agreement and braced for Ed to move away, but he didn't. He just pulled Stede in tighter and repeated himself. "Stay right here, sweetheart."

It only took a few minutes for Stede to get his heart beating back at a steady tempo. He murmured an apology into the crook Ed's elbow.

"S'fine." Ed murmured back. "I've been wanting to do this for days."

Stede scrunched his nose."Do what?"

Ed considered his words. "When you get- worked up like that, like you do sometimes. I never know what to do- I just know it makes me want to get my arms around you. Only, I've never been brave enough to try it before. Dunno if it helps- is it helping?"

Stede shrugged, and he almost smiled at the way Ed's arms rose and fell along with the motion. "It might be. Yes."

"Nice." Ed said. "I've got great instincts, then." He gently knocked the side of his head against Stede's. "Look. I'm not gonna tell you there's nothing to worry about. Nothing about this is easy."

"But?"

"But what? But nothing. Life's hard, man. Can't really blame you for being worried- hell, maybe if I had more sense I'd be more scared."

Stede chuckled at Ed’s frankness. "Aren't you supposed to tell me that everything's going to be all right?"

"I don't know how everything's going to be. And I don't want to lie to you. Not even a pretty lie. I mean it, Stede." He loosened his embrace and leaned back, far enough to look Stede in the eye. "Life's not easy for people like us."

His words soaked into Stede like a rich lotion. "People like us, Ed?"

"Ah, shit, sorry- are you gonna-?" It was Ed's turn to panic now, just a little. He looked Stede over once, twice, waiting for an eruption that never came.

"People like us," Stede said slowly, tasting the words in his mouth. "Like you and me."

Ed nodded. "Like you and me. Hey- come back to the ranch with me tonight. I don't like the idea of you here alone."

"Afraid I'll run away again?"

"No." Ed turned Stede's hand over in his own. "Afraid you'll be lonely, is all. Afraid I'll miss you."

Stede stopped fighting the smile on his face. "You'll have to miss me at the ranch, too. It's not like you can slip into my bed." Just the thought sent a jolt to Stede's prick. 

Ed sounded thoughtful. "True. But knowing you're there will be nice. It's been nice since you came to town- just knowing you're up there at the top of the stairs."

"You really do like me." Stede said with wonder in his voice. It wasn't a question, somehow. 

"'Fraid so," Ed smiled. "Now go fix your hair and get packed up. I want to go home."

+++

The stars were out by the time the Chevy pulled back into the driveway at Orange Sky. The car came to a stop, and reluctantly, Stede slipped his hand out of Ed's warm grip. Between Ed's family and the rotating crowd of boarders, the house was never really empty. Who knew when Stede would next get a chance to touch Ed?

As if on cue, a screen door slammed, and Walter jogged his way over to greet his brother's truck.

"You came back!" he gaped as Stede stepped out of the cab.

"Nah," Ed grunted and unceremoniously dropped a monogrammed suitcase into Walter's arms. "Never left."

+++

Herb was sitting in his chair at the dining room table, making notes in a ledger book while he drank a cold glass of milk. When Ed shouldered the screen door open, arms laden with sea-blue luggage, he put his pencil down and raised an eyebrow.

Stede stood behind Ed, suddenly bashful. They had talked it all through- Stede was hardly the first guest to have second thoughts and check out (although usually they were running back to their wives) and he wasn't even the first guest to have third thoughts and check back in. But now, standing before Herb and his unflappable gaze, Stede rather felt like he was called into the principal's office.

"Mr. Packer, I- I've made a terrible fool of myself," he began, although that wasn't what he meant to say at all, "which isn't at all unusual, I'm afraid."

"Uh-huh." Herb took a sip of his milk.

"This morning- I hadn't slept well, you see, and I blamed the quality of the lodgings, which really wasn't fair. Or- or accurate. And then Mr. Teach came to drop off my luggage, and he talked sense into me. And, well, I'd like to resume my stay here, if it's all the same to you."

He shifted his weight from foot to foot. This was silly- he was a lecturer, for goodness' sake, he should be able to have a simple conversation without these nerves.

"Yeah," Herb said. "All right." Without another word, he stood up and left the room.

Stede and Ed looked at each other. Ed's eyebrows drew together with worry. "I'd better go talk to him, d'you think?" he asked, scanning Stede's face for signs of panic.

Stede managed half of an exhausted smile. "I suppose so. I'll just go upstairs, I think, and unpack some essentials."

Ed blinked. "God! You must've been up half the night just packing up all of those clothes. I didn't even think about that."

"I was," Stede agreed. "I'm really beat. I'll tell Walter to leave most of the trunks downstairs for the night- all I can manage tonight is a bath before bed."

The growl Ed let out was almost imperceptible. "You can't tell me things like that, mate. It's gonna be hard enough, just knowing you're close by."

"Likewise, I'm sure." Stede's eyes dropped to Ed's lips for half a second. "Good luck with Herb. And- good night."

"Night, Stede."

+++

Monday, July 6, 1959

The next day was Monday, which meant that Ed had his hands full with errands around Reno. Stede had been worried about temptation, about propriety, but on the first day, at least, it wasn't a concern. Ed was already gone by the time Stede woke up on Monday morning, and he wasn't due back at the ranch until after his radio show was over.

At least it gave Stede time to catch up on his preparations for the fall semester. How wrong he'd been, when he arrived in Reno, thinking he'd be so isolated that he'd be done with all his work in a week. Of course, he hadn't anticipated making a friend. To say the least.

Those thoughts led to others that were less welcome. Stede only had three weeks left before his divorce hearing and his departure for California. Then he’d be off, to a new school, and a new life. Even the thought of saying goodbye to Ed was enough to make Stede feel like his heart was being crushed under the sandal of a vengeful god. Of course, he had nobody to blame but himself- if only he had come to understand his own feelings earlier, instead of wasting half of their time together.

No, not wasted. Those three weeks were perfect just as they were, full of laughter and camaraderie like Stede had never known before. Even if it had never been more than that, even if Ed was nothing more than a beloved friend, the last three weeks would still be the nicest of Stede's entire life.

But it was more. It was more than Stede could have dreamed, and now that he'd tasted pleasure- real pleasure- all he wanted was, well, more.

Stede had never thought of himself as particularly skilled at self-control, but goodness, in retrospect, until he came to Reno he had practically been an Ascetic. Which reminded him- he would be assigning an essay on pre-Christian asceticism and hedonism to his students in the early weeks of the Fall semester- it would do him good to revisit the early texts.

Stede spent the next several hours absentmindedly paging through his copy of Introduction to Porphyry while his thoughts returned ceaselessly to Ed. The salty taste of sweat on Ed’s throat. The aching swell of Stede’s lips after they slid against coarse hair and bare, overheated skin. The way Ed’s gaze stayed fixed on Stede’s face, even as he panted to the rhythm of his own hand above him.

Introduction to Porphyry slammed closed with a decisive thwop , and Stede decided that taking two baths within a 24-hour span was perfectly acceptable.

After all, it was summer now, and Reno was very hot.

+++

Feeling cooler, cleaner and altogether more relaxed after his long bath, Stede dressed for bed. It was nearly nine; time for Ed’s radio show. He brought his little bedside radio into the bathroom and began his nightly grooming routine. 

At the first sound of Ed’s voice, Stede gasped, as dramatic in his affection as any of his students. 

“Now, a lot of you good folks have been writing in to the station begging Blackbeard to play more rhythm and blues,” Ed pattered in his sleek radio voice, “and I reckon I’ve got just the thing for you tonight. Kicking us off here we’ve got Thurston Harris giving us your favorite, Little Bitty Pretty One”.

The song was a light, frothy thing without much to say, full of whoa whoas and the sounds of clapping hands. Although it wasn’t to Stede’s taste, he could see its appeal, particularly if he imagined the song playing from Ed’s truck radio while they drove down an open road together. How easy it was to picture- Ed shooting a sly, crooked smile over to his besotted passenger while his black hair absorbed the light, turned as red as a glass of port by a trick of the afternoon sun. 

Was it pathetic, to miss somebody so badly when they’d only been separated for half a day?

Another song followed that one, and then another, and then Stede’s grooming was finished. He carried Ed’s voice with him as he shed his slippers and robe and tucked himself into bed.

“This next song is a new one on the R&B stacks. The group is called Phil Phillips & the Twilights, from way down in Louisiana.” Almost imperceptibly, Ed’s voice shifted tones. He lost some of the gloss coat that he saved for the radio, and what was left was, to the trained ear, the real Ed. “I heard this song for the first time yesterday morning, and- well, I think it’s really something special. I hope you like it, too. It’s called Sea of Love.”

This song began low and slow. Men’s voices hummed and harmonized, layering over one another like a tapestry. One voice stood out from the rest, gentle and almost warbling as he sang the words.

Come with me, my love
To the sea, the sea of love
I want to tell you how much
I love you

Stede’s hands fluttered up to his face as his breath caught. 

Was that- was Ed playing this song for him ? 

The thought was so immense that Stede’s first instinct was to reject it. With a little effort, he could take that idea and shove it deep into the same vast, messy drawer where he locked away all of his inappropriate thoughts. 

Unless- what if this time, he didn’t? 

What if he let himself believe it? 

Maybe Ed played this song knowing that Stede was listening, back at the ranch. Maybe Ed chose it just for Stede. Maybe Ed wanted Stede to hear those words that were sung not just once but over and over again. Maybe Ed-

Stede’s hands were clutched over his chest, now, but it wasn’t panic welling there. 

I want to tell you how much
I love you

Was that what this was? Love? For all their talking in the hotel, Ed and Stede hadn’t attempted to name the thing that had grown between them. 

There was so much he didn’t know, still. What was customary between men, what was acceptable, what was allowed.

Even putting aside the question of two men- could any two people fall in love so completely, so quickly? It was hard to believe it was possible. 

But in this moment, lying in bed surrounded by Ed’s music, he could almost believe it. He could imagine believing it, anyhow. Even better- he wanted to believe it.

With a stroke of wild courage, Stede fluttered his eyes shut and whispered along with the last line of the song.

I want to tell you how much
I love you

+++

Love was still on Stede’s mind as he drifted off to sleep, and try as he might, it was never far from his thoughts after that. 

On Tuesday he woke at the crack of dawn, fixed his hair and slipped downstairs well before the rest of the boarders started their days. When he saw Ed waiting for him at the kitchen table, wrapped in the dawn light, the words sprang unbidden to his mind. 

My love.

What he said instead was, "My goodness. It's nice to see you."

Ed stood up and took half a step toward him, as if to embrace him, then halted. Stede started to extend his hand for a shake before realizing how foolish that would be, resulting in a silly little twitch. They both smiled self-consciously, which made them smile in earnest, and then the sound of their shared laughter washed away the last traces of their awkwardness.

"Go ahead and make your tea, mate," Ed chuckled. "I already put the kettle on."

Their morning chat came easy, same as it ever did. Stede felt a certain relief, although he hadn't even realized that he was worried. Ed was his lover now (his lover, Stede had a lover!), but he was still his friend, too.

The big sign at the entrance proclaiming Orange Sky Ranch was due to be repainted, so Ed spent the better part of the morning up on a ladder, cleaning the wood and sanding it down. Stede sat in the shade of the front porch, a short stack of books sitting unopened in front of him as he took in the absolute vision of Ed at work.

The day had grown steadily warmer as the sun crawled up the sky, and when Ed lifted his arms to reach the top of the sign, Stede saw that the light cotton of his work shirt was dark with a prickle of sweat. His mouth went dry at the sight. 

If this really was love- being so affected by the sight of underarm sweat, of all things!- Stede could understand why men drove themselves to ruin for it.

When his eyes finally flitted to Ed's face, he was startled to find that Ed was looking right back at him with a knowing expression. Staring, even. Stede swallowed. The thrill of anticipation shivered through him when Ed unhitched his thigh from where it kept him steady on the ladder, and climbed down to the ground. 

Stede attempted an air of nonchalance. He didn't want to look too eager, after all, if Ed was going to swagger up the porch to talk. Or maybe even, to flirt ? The thought sent another shiver down his spine.

But Ed didn't swagger up to Stede. He didn't even look at him. His eyes scanned over the broad facade of the main house, as if looking in every window, and then he nodded the smallest nod. He closed the ladder and heaved it over his strong shoulder, and without as much as a word called down the driveway to Stede, he walked away.

Stede tried to temper his disappointment as Ed headed toward the toolshed. As mesmerizing as it was to watch Ed at work, he was working , after all. And really, Stede should be, too. For the first time that day, he cracked open a book and resolved to focus his mind on Porphyry's teachings on the virtue of moderation.

One more look wouldn’t hurt, though. 

Stede glanced over at the toolshed, only to see Ed standing still in front of the open door, ladder still on his shoulder, watching Stede from a distance. It almost seemed like he was waiting for something. 

Indeed, as soon as Stede met his eyes, Ed angled his head toward the door significantly and slipped inside, closing the door behind him.

Oh.

Oh.

He bit back a cheeky grin as he tossed his book onto the footrest and stood to follow. A glance over his shoulder was enough to assure him that nobody observed his approach. 

The toolshed was stuffy and overheated, and with all the equipment everywhere there was barely room for two men to stand. It smelled vaguely of iron and rubber, and there was hardly enough light to see with. 

But Ed was waiting for him there, so it was the most beautiful building Stede had ever stepped inside. 

The moment the door slammed shut behind Stede, Ed’s hands were at his neck and his waist, pulling him in for a kiss, then another, and before long they were pawing at each other like teenagers.

"You like watching me," Ed murmured, his lips an inch away from Stede’s, "don't you?"

"I do." To hide his blush, Stede nuzzled his nose where Ed’s neck disappeared into the collar of his shirt. Ed smelled like salt, like the ocean, as if he carried part of New Zealand with him even here in Nevada. He smelled like home.

"You know what you look like when you watch me?" Ed asked quietly. "It looks like you're imagining undressing me with your teeth."

"What if I am?" Stede shocked himself with his quick reply.

Ed growled, and grabbed him by the hips, maneuvering him in the small space until Stede's back was against a wall. They met in another crushing kiss, a red hot smear of lips and tongues that made Stede’s heart pound. They only pulled apart when Ed dropped his hands to his own belt. 

"We’ll try that another time," he grunted. "Gotta to be fast, man. Get yourself out for me, please ."

Stede rushed to obey.  He made short work of his button and fly and pulled himself out for Ed, giving himself a few quick tugs before he could help himself. His head tipped back against the shed wall and he squeezed his eyes shut, unable to take his hand off of his own erection.

"C’mon, sweetheart, save some for me." Ed’s voice was tinted with amusement, but the shuddering breath he took when he replaced Stede’s hand with his own was pure arousal. Stede let out a mewling whine when Ed’s rough fingers wrapped around him.

“ Shhhh .”

Stede’s eyes snapped open at the reminder. He looked down, down, to see that Ed had already opened his jeans and pushed them low on his hips, revealing his member to the open air. His own pleasure momentarily forgotten, Stede dragged his fingers down the exposed hair on Ed's stomach, and even further, until he wrapped his fingers around his shaft.

There was nothing unclear about Ed's pleasure, no puzzle for Stede to decode. The evidence was undeniable when he felt Ed’s cock filling, getting harder against his palm with every stroke. Nothing had ever made Stede feel so powerful, so sure of himself, than feeling Ed grow in his hand.

With a shudder, Ed planted his free hand on the wall, just above Stede's head, and well, that was more than all right. His armpit was right there, and Stede couldn't even be ashamed of how much he liked it. No, because Ed knew exactly what he was doing to Stede, Ed wanted him to like it. So it couldn't be wrong. It couldn't. 

So Stede turned his face into the warmth and took a breath. It was musky and masculine. Earthy, because it wasn’t enough for Ed to taste like the ocean, he had to smell like the earth, too. Of course he did, Ed was the whole world.

He might've said those words out loud, risked frightening Ed with sentiments that were much too much, but for the soft reminder of shhh, shhh falling from Ed's lips.

Instead, in the dim light of the toolshed, Stede wordlessly watched as they stroked together, mesmerized by the sight of their shining cockheads pumping in and out of each other's fists.

God, how long had he pretended not to want this, lied to himself about not needing this? How did he live for so long without Ed, pressed close and whispering, smelling like home and sounding like heaven and feeling so impossibly alive?

The moment was quick and quiet, a far cry from their lavish exploration at the hotel, but it still ranked among the best moments of Stede's life. When he spilled over Ed's fist, he bit Ed's shirt to avoid crying out- because they had to be quiet, and because he knew that any sound he made would find a shape, and that shape would be I love you.

Ed finished moments later, his face buried in Stede’s hair. He let out a shallow groan, for Stede’s ears only, and it wasn’t hard to imagine that it flew out of his mouth to the rhythm of I love you, too.

+++

Despite Stede’s hopes, there was no opportunity to sneak back into the toolshed on Wednesday. In the morning, Ed finished painting the driveway sign while Stede made painful conversation with Siegfried, the awful boarder from Louisiana. Siegfried was a loudmouth and a lothario, and he didn't have a single original thought in his head. By the time he lost interest in Stede and wandered back upstairs, Ed’s work on the sign was done. 

Stede tried not to pout as he cursed the missed opportunity to watch Ed’s brushstrokes, and he even tried to look understanding when Ed told him that he was heading over to Benji’s Barroom. He went every Wednesday afternoon, apparently, to help his friend Izzy with maintenance. 

“I’d invite you along,” Ed said, scuffing the red sand with his boot, “but all things considered…”

It hadn’t even been a week since the Independence Day party that Stede spoiled with his awful outburst. He nodded gamely. “I understand. Send Izzy my regards, I suppose.”

Ed chuckled. “Yeah, okay, I’ll do that. Hey!” his eyes brightened with an idea, “maybe I could bring you along sometime soon, though. A quieter night, y’know. Let you get to know the guys.”

The idea tied a knot in Stede’s gut, but he forced himself to agree. “Absolutely, Ed. I’d like that.” They said their goodbyes- public, casual, friendly, and Stede retreated upstairs to his sun-dappled bedroom to read.

+++

Ed came back from Benji's early enough to join the rest of the house for supper, to Stede’s delight. The eccentricities of the rest of the boarders were easier to bear when he had Ed across the table to share significant glances with.

After the meal, Stede volunteered to help Ed wash up in the kitchen, just for the chance to stand next to him. Of course, it took no time at all for Stede to make a fool of himself.

“Seriously, man,” Ed shook his head in disbelief as he lifted the gravy tureen out of Stede’s fumbling hands, “how’d you make it to your age without learning how to clean up after yourself?”

Stede felt a familiar wall start to rise up in him as he bristled against Ed's teasing. But then he noticed the particular dimple on Ed's left cheek that meant he was holding back a smile, and he relaxed.

"Show me, then, if you're the expert," he said with only a trace of discomfiture.

They stood shoulder-to-shoulder for a while, chatting and laughing over the sounds of sudsy water sloshing against the sink walls. Ed was in the middle of rinsing off a butter dish when his face lit up. “Oh! How’s tomorrow night for Benji’s?”

Stede blinked his surprise. “Benji’s? Tomorrow night?” he repeated, eloquent as ever. 

“Yeah. You said you wanted to go back in sometime soon, didn’t you?” Ed asked, and- yes, well, Stede did say that, didn’t he? “Thursday will be better than the weekend if we want to talk. And besides, I told Walter he could have the truck on Fridays."

“You did? Why?” 

Ed snorted and told him about the hard bargain he made to find Stede’s hotel, and then they were laughing about his stepbrother’s opportunism. “That kid’s smart, I’m telling you.” Ed chuckled. “Canny. One day he'll be running this town. But anyhow- tomorrow night? Benji’s? Maybe we could head out at nine, what do you say?”

The worries that were weighing on Stede’s shoulders were made lighter when he noticed the twinge of anticipation in Ed’s voice. Was this- was Stede being asked on a date?

“Nine is perfect,” he said, just to see the way the corners of Ed’s eyes wrinkled when he grinned. “What should I wear?”

"Anything you want," Ed answered breezily. "Although- maybe not one of your western get-ups."

Stede looked down at his yellow rubber dishgloves. "Something more formal, then? Suit and tie?" When Ed laughed, he looked up with an irritated squint. "What's funny?"

"What you've got on now would be fine- it's not exactly the Copa Room, right?"

Uncertainty seeped into Stede's voice. "Right, but I want to make a smart impression. Especially after- well, you know."

Ed's hands flexed, as if he wanted to close the space between them, but he kept them on the edge of the sink. "You had a bad night. We've all had 'em. Look. They're my friends. And they know that you're my friend, too. I told them that you're… important." 

It was a miracle that Stede's heart didn't grow wings and fly right out of his chest at those words. At the words that Ed didn't say, couldn't say while they were there in the kitchen, but that Stede heard nonetheless. Stede was important to Ed .

Still…

"I don't exactly make friends wherever I go, you know."

Ed scoffed. "Then you're not going to the right places." He said it like he believed it. So maybe, just maybe, Stede could be brave enough to believe it, too.

+++

Thursday, July 9, 1959

"Doctor Stede Bonnet, I like you already." Frenchie waggled his eyebrows as Jim served them each a sidecar. Stede had just fawned- perhaps a little too much- over Frenchie's wonderful performance on the fourth of July, and offered to buy him a drink in appreciation. "A man of good taste in music and cocktails? No wonder Ed can't stop talking about you."

Stede sputtered, and it wasn't just from the cognac, but Frenchie just kept chattering. 

"Tell him I said to bring you over for dinner some time, yeah? John loves to cook. Me? I'm always dying for some new conversation, new ideas. Love these guys," he gestured vaguely across the bar, "but there's only so many times you can hear the same stories. Otherwise you’ll go well and truly crazy, don't you think?"

"Mmm, quite," Stede managed to get in. "So you and John, you- live together?" Even imagining it gave him butterflies.

"Yeah, we've got a little place out off the Lincoln Highway. Although I'm on the road more often these days- me and the ViceRoys, I mean. Music's really taking off. Still, nice to have something to come home to. We have a real blowout every year on Labor Day, you’re gonna love it.” 

The butterflies fluttering in Stede's chest shriveled and died. By Labor Day, he would be settled into his new house in Claremont, hiring an assistant and making the final preparations for the fall semester at Pomona College. His fresh start was waiting for him in California.

He was excited to go to California. He was thrilled. It was his dream, after all- sunshine and small classrooms and nobody who knew him as his father's son. Nobody who knew him at all, in fact. Certainly nobody who knew him the way Ed-

"You all right, man? Doctor Bonnet?" Frenchie was glancing around the room nervously, looking for Ed, probably. Stede managed to push his anxiety down to the bottom of his chest and force a smile. 

"A Labor Day cookout sounds- lovely, Frenchie. I can't wait. But if you'll excuse me, I just realized I left my, ah, cigarettes. In the truck." He downed his sidecar in one big gulp and hurried toward the door.

"Hell, Stede, I knew I shouldn't have left you alone," Ed fussed as he rushed over to where Stede was leaning against the wall. Stede had only been outside for a minute, but Ed's voice was laced with worry. "We can leave if it's too much, let me just get my-"

"No!"

Ed furrowed his brow. "No?"

"I want to stay." Stede took a deep breath. "I mean. I'd like to stay here at the bar. No need to leave, I'm having a nice time, honest. I just got a little- overwhelmed."

The look of concern on Ed's face relaxed. "Wouldn't be the first time talking to Frenchie made somebody run out of the bar. He start talking your ear off about that area out by Groom Lake? Little green men?"

Stede smiled weakly. "Something like that."

+++

"So how did you two meet?" Stede asked.

Ed and Izzy broke into identical grimaces. The fourth man in their booth- another friend of Ed's named Ivan- raised his eyebrows. "I don't think I've ever heard this story."

"When I was sixteen, seventeen- Jack used to bring me ‘round to Benji’s," Ed began, "right about when Izzy was settling in here in Reno. I saw him around, but Iz was always this mysterious figure, an outsider. We didn’t actually talk or anything until-”

“Until I caught you trying to steal a crate of rum bottles right out the window. Fuckin' idiot.” The look that passed from Izzy to Ed didn't match the harsh words. In fact, it was almost pure fondness. How strange.

“What did you do?” Stede leaned on his elbows on the table in anticipation.

“What do you think?” Izzy raised a disdainful eyebrow. “I tried to stop him.”

Stede pivoted to Ed. “And what did you do?”

“I, ah- I tried to whip his ass.” Stede’s jaw dropped, but Ed pushed on. “I was young and dumb and I was already four inches taller than him. How was I supposed to know?”

Ivan was already chuckling and shaking his head, and for his part, Izzy looked as mysterious as the Sphinx. Stede cocked his head. “Know what?”

Ivan took pity on Stede and explained. “Izzy was a boxer in the Navy.” 

“Oh!"  Stede gasped in delight. "Just like in From Here to Eternity!” 

His delight froze when Izzy focused his cold glare on Stede. “That was the Army.”

Stede felt his cheeks flare at the mistake, until mercifully, Ed cut back in. “Anyhow, Izzy knocked a little bit of sense into me, and put me to work to pay off the broken window. I washed dishes.”

“For about a minute,” Izzy interrupted. “And then he talked his way into helping with the electrical wiring instead. And now we just can't seem to shake him."

Who was 'we', Stede wondered, but before he could ask, Ivan changed the subject. "How about you, Stede? Ed says you're a professor- what do you teach?"

"Classics! It's ah- primarily ancient Rome and Greece." 

"Swell," Izzy deadpanned, then released a plume of cigarette smoke. "Love the Greeks. Big fan of their work."

Ed chuckled, and Stede felt vaguely annoyed at being left out of a joke. His quizzical look must've shown on his face, because Ed leaned in, close enough that his breath skated across Stede's ear when he murmured "I'll tell you later."

Stede shivered, and this time, when Izzy and Ivan chuckled, Stede wasn’t bothered.

“But really,” Izzy continued, “What exactly do you teach?”

Careful not to seem too enthusiastic, Stede started to explain. “Well, the language, of course- Greek and Latin- and the history, philosophy and literature of the cultures. The birth of democracy, the theatre- all of it, really. My students go on to work in politics, publishing, law- I’ve even taught some future judges.” Ed gave his knee an encouraging squeeze, but Izzy looked unimpressed. 

“So that’s it, then? All day you tell kids about a bunch of old dead men back in Rome?”

Just as Stede was grasping for a rebuttal, Ivan cleared his throat. The other three men looked on in surprise as he raised his glass and spoke. 

“ Let Rome in Tiber melt and the wide arch

Of the ranged empire fall. Here is my space.

Kingdoms are clay. Our dungy earth alike

Feeds beast as man. The nobleness of life

Is to do thus; when such a mutual pair

And such a twain can do ‘t, in which I bind,

On pain of punishment, the world to weet-

We stand up peerless. ”

Izzy broke the shocked silence. “What the hell was that, Ivan?”

Stede brought his hands to his chest, entranced. “Antony and Cleopatra,” he breathed.

Ivan smiled a crooked smile. “Yeah. Studied acting for a couple years in college- did a semester in London and everything. You talking about Rome and all- it sorta came back to me."

The flabbergasted look on Izzy’s face was almost better than the Shakespeare itself. “Jesus, got any other tricks hiding in there? You studied acting before you became an accountant, and you never thought to bring that up before tonight?”

“You never asked.” Ivan shrugged and finished his beer.

Ed had been awfully silent since Ivan’s performance, and when he spoke, he sounded bewildered. “All that you just said, Ivan… pretty stuff, but what does it mean?”

Ivan hesitated, then gestured across the booth at Stede. “He’ll tell it better than me, probably.”

He didn’t bother denying it- he did so love Shakespeare. “It’s- Antony has just been called back to Rome, from Egypt, and he says to Cleopatra- is that right?” Ivan nodded in confirmation, and Stede continued. “Yes- he’s saying to Cleopatra- let Rome fall into the river for all I care, kingdoms are nothing but dirt. The only thing that makes life noble is love, or, loving- as long as it’s two absolutely perfect people’.”

“Oh,” Ed said. And that was all he said. But then he raised his arm and carefully draped it around Stede’s shoulder. Stede froze at the overt display, but when Izzy and Ivan appeared unfazed, he let his shoulders relax. 

For a moment Stede worried that having Ed’s arm thrown over him might make him feel emasculated or foolish, but he was wrong. It felt warm and secure, and another feeling- something new, a sensation that he almost knew the name of, but it was just out of reach.

+++

Ed’s arm stayed around Stede until it was time to leave the bar. They drank, they laughed, and even if Stede hadn’t quite won Izzy over, at least he hadn’t made matters worse. 

The guys at the bar, they weren’t his friends yet, exactly,  but there was a commonality between them, an easy acceptance that he had never experienced; not at his boarding schools, or the country club, or even in the professor’s den where other academics smoked cigars and argued philosophy. 

It was nice.

When they got in the Chevy, Ed patted the leather bench seat and hitched his right arm against the back of the seat. “Keep a guy company while he drives you home?”

Stede didn’t hesitate to slide over in the bench seat and nestle against Ed’s side as he pulled out of the parking lot behind Benji’s Baroom. Ed’s arm found its spot around Stede’s shoulders, just like before, and all at once Stede knew the word he had been looking for earlier. Cherished. Stede felt cherished .

“I wish you didn’t have to take us home,” he sighed. “I don’t want the night to end.”

“Easy wish to grant.” Pressed close together like they were, Stede could feel the rumble of his voice. “We don’t have to go back to the ranch, do we? We can go anywhere we want.”

Stede shrugged happily, enjoying the way Ed's arm shifted around him when he moved. “Then let's not go back just yet. Take me- take me somewhere I've never been."

“Somewhere with a nice view?”

“Yes,” Stede said, but he wasn't thinking about the scenery. He was watching Ed's hand tighten over the stick; feeling Ed shift in his seat. His fingers crept against Ed's knee, slow and sticky as honey, and when he met Ed's eyes they were full of promise, as frank and explicit as if he’d said the words out loud. “Yes,” he said again, “take me somewhere I can see the stars.” 

The corner of Ed's lip curled up into a smile. "I think I know a place."

+++

The sky above Lake Tahoe was full of stars, and each star had a twin reflected in the still, flat expanse of water that stretched in front of Ed and Stede.

Ed had parked the Chevy backwards, so that the truck bed was facing the lake. They leaned against the truck’s back window, sitting on top of a few old horse blankets, and took in the view. 

And goodness, what a view. “I wish I’d brought my telescope,” Stede said as he craned his neck to take it all in.

Ed kept his fingers at the nape of Stede’s neck as he looked around. “You have a telescope?”

“I do- although I don’t get much use of it back in Chicago, as much city light as we have. Had.” he corrected himself. “It’s nothing like this. I haven’t seen this many stars since-”

“Since we were kids, yeah?” Ed finished his thought. “Since back in New Zealand?”

Stede smiled in the dark. He liked the way Ed made it sound as if they had been children together. Like there was a world where he had found each other earlier, had more time together. “Exactly, since New Zealand. It’s been a long time- although I suppose you must be used to this sort of view.”

“I guess. I don’t come out here that often.” 

“You never go up in the mountains?” Stede wondered.

Ed chuckled. “Nah. Me? A mountain climber? No, sir. Not quite my style.”

“I don’t know about that.” Stede looked appraisingly at his face. “I can picture you as a mountain man. With a big bushy beard?”

“Oh, sure, that part, no problem. I’d look terrific with a big beard. And I know you like a hairy guy.”

“Ed!” Scandalized, but unable to deny the allegations, Stede harmlessly swatted his chest. Ed caught his wrist and pulled him in closer for a kiss.

A kiss under the stars, late at night without a soul around for miles… Stede had fallen right off the edge of the earth and into heaven. One kiss became two, then kissing became proper necking. Ed swung a leg over Stede’s hips and crawled into his lap, just like had that first night, in the rain. But Stede didn’t stop him this time. Stede couldn’t stop him, wouldn’t dream of it, not when he could feel Ed hard, grinding against Stede’s stomach and chest through his blue jeans. 

Eventually they pulled apart, heaving with deep come-down breaths that mirrored each other perfectly. Ed looked down at Stede with swollen lips and eyes that were as bright as any stars.

“Stede,” Ed said, “I want you.”

“You’ve got me.” Stede promised, and kissed him again. He’d promise anything Ed asked him to, and he’d mean it.

“Yeah, I’ve got you,” Ed agreed between kisses. “Stede, do you want- shit, if you wanted, I could teach you- mmm- a more advanced trick of the trade, so to say.” 

Stede’s eyes widened.

“I don’t want to push you,” Ed cautioned.

Stede ran his palms up Ed’s chest and neck, until he held Ed’s face in his hands. Gently, he pulled him down until their foreheads touched. “Push me,” he breathed. His hips lifted off the truck bed, just a little, enough to grind his clothed erection against Ed's backside. "I want you to. I want it all.”

“You sure?”

Stede had never been more sure of anything in his life, and Ed kissed him again when he told him so.

Even in July, the night air was cool enough to send prickling goosebumps up Stede’s arms and legs as he stripped off his clothes. They didn’t speak or even watch each other as they undressed in parallel. Stede was grateful for it- he had never been completely nude in front of Ed, or anybody except his physician, for that matter- and every inch of skin he exposed to the open sky felt like another step into a new world, one from which he couldn’t return.

Not that he would if he could.

When Ed was bare, he reached for a toolbox that was strapped to the truck bed and pulled out an amber jar of Vaseline. He explained what he was doing and why as he reached behind to get himself ready. To get himself ready for Stede . It was- too private to watch, too intimate, but still, Stede couldn’t look away.

“Hey,” Ed sounded breathless, even as his chest rose and fell. “You good?” 

Stede nodded fervently. He was sitting right where Ed asked him to, with his back pressed against the back window of the Chevy, fighting against the desire to cover himself up. The glass behind him was cold on his spine, and the blanket under him was rough, but in front of him there was only Ed and the sky.

When Ed climbed back onto his lap, this time with the press of skin on skin, the last shadows of Stede’s hesitation disappeared. His hands moved straight to Ed’s hips before roaming the sides of Ed’s strong thighs, down to the knees that bracketed his hips and then up again, savoring the feeling of the coarse hair there. Ed hummed his encouragement and Stede slid his hands back, where the hair was thicker, where the Vaseline left Ed slick.

Ed hissed at the contact and pressed back into the touch. For the third time, he asked Stede if he was ready.

Stede was ready.

Even though his hands were trembling, Stede had never felt more secure than he did under the weight of Ed; under the weight of a man, this man, his man. 

But it was Ed’s eyes that held Stede in place even more firmly than his body could. They stared into him with an intensity Stede had never seen before and he couldn't help hiding, with a ducked head and eyes squeezed shut.

Ed dragged his fingernails over Stede's shoulders, his chest, his arms, and rose up on his knees a little. “Open your eyes, sweetheart." 

His hands moved to Stede’s hair, and when Stede met his gaze again he could swear, almost, that Ed was looking at something beautiful.

Stede’s hands weren’t trembling any more when he held himself in place and planted his feet as Ed guided himself down. All of Ed’s preparation must’ve paid off, because Ed gasped but didn’t seem to be in pain when Stede finally slipped inside of him.

“Oh,” Stede said faintly. “Oh my God.” Ed was hot and tight inside, muscles working Stede’s cock with each tiny movement, with each breath. It was just impossible, too good to be real, this wasn’t what sex felt like- this wasn’t what anything felt like, as far as Stede knew.

He wasn't speaking out loud but Ed was agreeing anyway, punctuating every inch he took with a little chant of “Yeah, yeah.” 

“I,” Stede managed. He shifted a little, “I- ah-” and he groaned as Ed’s body took him in just a little deeper. “Ed, is it- good?”

“Good,” Ed repeated unsteadily, and Stede was comforted by the quaver in his voice, knowing that he wasn’t the only one feeling completely unmoored. Ed lifted a hand from where Stede’s shoulder and brushed it along Stede’s cheek as he whispered, "Perfect- it's perfect. I think maybe you were made for this.”

Stede’s cheeks flared with the praise and he dropped his forehead onto Ed’s chest. He could feel Ed’s heart racing, just like his was. 

“Ready?” Ed asked, as if Stede wasn’t halfway to bruising Ed’s hips at this point with his fingertips, trying to brace himself against the urge to thrust. “Stede- ”

“Yes, I’m ready- please!”

Ed returned his hands to Stede’s shoulders and started to ride him in earnest. When Ed groaned, Stede could feel the vibrations against his lips, still trailing helplessly against Ed’s chest. 

He would stay there forever if he could, pressed as close as he could get, feeling Ed, feeling Ed, feeling everything . Ed was hard again now, and it slapped against Stede’s belly as they found their rhythm together. It was all so much more than he had imagined. His dreams were dull, empty things compared to the reality he found himself in now.

Everything was getting lighter, brighter, as the two men moved together. For a delirious moment Stede thought that they were the ones shining, but it was only the sun. The sun was rising, turning the world a vivid pink, and Ed was glowing in the rosy light. Stede let his head fall back against the window of the truck and he took it in- Ed and the sky, Ed and the dawn.

Each time Ed rose up, Stede’s hips chased after him, like he had to stay inside him to live. On one particular downward thrust, something must’ve come together just right, because Ed shouted in pleasure and clenched around Stede. He chased the feeling desperately, adjusting his angle until he could make Ed do that every time. 

“I know, I know,” Stede cried as Ed clenched again, although he didn’t know, not really- “I’ve got you, I’ve got you- oh, God you- you’re gorgeous, you're-” 

Words failed him, and suddenly Stede was hyper-aware of everything around him.  The breeze blowing in from over the lake, the tiny beads of sweat at the center of Ed’s chest, the way he gulped at the summer air as he bounced on Stede’s lap. The sound of the frogs and insects all around them mingled with their heavy breathing and all of it accentuated the fact that they were together, joined in every way two people could be.

“Yeah,” Ed panted against Stede’s lips, sounding like he was about to cry. “You like it? Talk to me, sweetheart.”

Stede buried his face in Ed’s neck and dragged his mouth down the sweaty column of his throat, trying to find the right words. “I love it. I love it, Ed. Is it-?”

“I love it too,” Ed said immediately, back arched, hand flying over his cock, head knocked back like he was trying to swallow the sky itself. “Ah- Stede, I love it, I love it, I love you so much-”

Stede finished with a wordless shout and buried himself deep as he pulsed inside of Ed. He distantly registered sounds, words even, pouring out of Ed’s mouth, but all he could really hear was the blood in his ears, and the obscenely slick sounds still filling the morning air as Ed kept riding. Stede could feel his come, the silky wetness of it as it filled Ed, and he knew Ed could feel it too, from the way his breathy cries echoed Stede’s release.

There was more, after- a warm splash on his chest, a sweaty collapse- but Stede’s heart kept racing like they were still in the throes of passion. Even when his breath evened out, he could feel his heart pounding loudly against his ribs like it was trying to escape. 

He thought, maybe, his heart would never be quiet again.

Chapter Text

Even though it was getting hot, even though there was quite a mess between them, Ed took a few minutes to stop trembling before he peeled himself, sweaty and sticky, off of Stede's body. 

Stede made a sweet wordless grumble of protest when Ed crawled off of him, but then he stretched his long legs out in front of him, like a cat basking in the sun, and groaned appreciatively. 

"You good?" Ed asked. He had a feeling that he should do better, should say something more meaningful or momentous, but he couldn't figure out how to ask Did that mean for you what it meant for me? or By the way, did you hear me tell you I loved you? or Oh god, Stede, do you love me the way I think you do?

It was a good thing Ed stuck with 'You good?', because Stede couldn't say anything in response. He just patted Ed's leg with his open palm, squeezing the thigh while he sighed in contentment.

The world had come to life while they made love, and the sounds of birds invaded the air around them. They sat side by side for a minute, just taking in the new day. They should get home, Ed knew, but first–

"What do we do now?" Stede spoke at last, wrinkling his nose as he appraised his own naked body in the morning light.

"Frankly, " Ed began, "you should take a piss. Then, I thought we could take a quick dip before we get dressed. Can you swim?"

Stede grinned. 

+++

In July, Lake Tahoe was warm and inviting, even at dawn. Ed scooped up great handfuls of water and splashed them over his chest, washing away the worst of the stink and the sweat. The muscles in his legs and stomach were tired and tight, but the water relaxed him as it lapped at his skin.

Stede was a vision as he waded out to join him, his gold hair shining brighter than Ed had seen it yet. Once he was close enough, Ed reached out for him, but Stede slipped out of his grip with a smirk and moved further out into the water. When he was a few yards away, with the water chest deep, he turned back to face Ed.

For a moment, Ed couldn't move. All he could do was stare at the man in front of him. When he compared this version of Stede, naked and relaxed and smiling, to the skittish professor that he met at the beginning of the summer, well… 

It was the first Stede that Ed had fallen for, but if he had known that this Stede would be waiting for him, only a few weeks later, he wouldn't have believed his luck.

He snapped out of his reverie and took a step toward Stede, but as soon as he moved, Stede dropped into the water and was gone.

They were still in the shallows, not really deep enough for a proper swim, but Ed still wasted no time cutting through the water to chase after Stede's retreating legs. He was a strong swimmer, of course, and even though Stede moved quickly, it was only a matter of seconds before Ed's hand connected with Stede's calf and dragged him in. 

They grappled and splashed at each other, ankles locking against ankles, fingers digging into thighs. It was the funniest thing: even though they were naked and wet and sliding against each other- even though Ed had just had Stede inside him- their playfighting wasn't about sex at all. It felt pure, like they were a couple of innocent kids horsing around together.

Well, Ed assumed as much. He had never really been an innocent kid.

"This is heaven," Stede pushed his wet curls off of his face and caught his breath. "Lake Michigan never gets this warm. I'm surprised you don't come out here more often."

Ed trailed his hands just under the edge of the water, watching it cascade over his knuckles when they breached the surface. "Used to, years ago. But after a while, it all just gets a bit boring. Same trees. Same rocks. Same tourists, more or less."

"Tourists?" Stede looked around pointedly at the empty shore.

"We're not gonna have this place to ourselves much longer, mate. Any minute it'll be crowded with folks. Hate to say it, but we should probably-" he nodded his head back over to the truck. It's not like he wanted to leave. Every other person on earth could disappear at that moment, as far as Ed was concerned, if that meant that he could stay in the water with Stede, unseen and unbothered, forever.

"California's just over there, isn't it?"

Suddenly, the water was ice cold on Ed's skin. "What?"

"Lake Tahoe." Stede said, and bit his lip. "We're on the state border, aren't we? Nevada on one shore, California on the other?"

They watched each other silently in the morning light. Ed waited for Stede to say something else, anything. He suspected that Stede was waiting for the same thing.

Stay , Ed wanted to say. Stay in Reno. Stay with me and we’ll watch the stars every night and swim every morning. 

But instead, he forced a smile. "Yep. We're right on the border. Now, c'mon," he said, splashing Stede one last time, "let's go dry off."

Ed was sore on the drive home, like he knew he would be, but with Stede sitting next to him, humming along to a song didn't know, he found he didn't really mind. With the sun shining like it was, he couldn't put his arm around Stede the way he wanted to, but it was safe enough to let his hand rest on Stede's knee, where nobody could see. 

Stede let his hand rest on top of Ed's and sighed happily. "Thank you, Ed."

"What for?"

The giggle that slipped out of Stede's lips was sweet enough to bottle and sell. "You know what for. That . Giving me…" for once, it seemed, Stede Bonnet couldn't find the right word. His hand tightened over Ed's, and he changed course. "That was the best thing that ever happened to me." He shook his head, like he was unsatisfied by his own declaration. "The best thing I ever did. Is it- is it always that good?"

"No." Ed answered right away. "Not usually. Not for me."

Ed was telling the truth, was the thing. It had never felt like this with anybody else.  Ed had had good sex before, and plenty of it. He'd even made love a time or two, or so he thought. But it had never felt right the way it did with Stede. He'd never been so unafraid before, not with anyone. 

Maybe that’s why it couldn’t be a forever thing, maybe he was being taught a lesson. Feeling that good for a minute was bliss. Feeling it for a few weeks, that was more than most folks got in their whole lives. But that much happiness, day in and day out-  people just weren't built for it. Their hearts would give out.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ed watched Stede pick an invisible piece of lint off of his sleeve, a telltale sign of his nerves. "It wasn't like that, for you- with Jack?

All the breath knocked out of Ed at once. "Uh," he said. "So I guess Izzy said something to you about Jack, huh?" Typical. He was going to throttle that meddling, gossipy old queen.

"Izzy? No. Jack told me himself. Back on the Fourth." Stede shifted a little in the seat, like he was drawing into himself. 

Ed thought back. "You mean- at the bar? Before-" before Stede ran off in a panic, before Ed followed him, before their first, terrible, wonderful kiss, right there in the Chevy. "Aw, what the heck did he say to you?"

Stede shook his head a little, like he was dislodging memory. "Not much. I think he thought- he just said that you two had had your… dalliances." He was blushing. Even though Ed wasn't watching his face, he could practically hear the pink in Stede's voice.

"Yeah, dalliances is one way to put it." Ed kept his voice level. He and Stede hadn't talked about this part at all- other men. Ed's past was as closed-off a topic as Stede's future. "A big mess is another."

So Ed told him everything. Two dumb kids who signed each other's casts at the children's hospital. How even as the new kid in a new town with brown skin and an unfamiliar accent, Ed was never picked on, not while he was under the protection of the craziest troublemaker in Reno. 

He told Stede the whole sordid history- copping a feel under the bleachers, the joyrides, the feeling of shattered glass in Ed's chest whenever Jack would find somebody else. The look of genuine confusion in Jack's eyes when Ed would get angry about it. Ed explained how two people could hurt each other over and over again but never really stop looking for each other in a crowd.

But when Stede murmured his sympathy and called Jack a scoundrel, Ed shook his head.

"Jack's never been able to be anything other than exactly who he is. He just can't.  He's a lot like you in that way." Ed didn't miss the way Stede scoffed and glared out the window at that. "He's always gonna be my friend, but me and Jack - that’s over, you know? I mean, really over." 

He'd said that before, plenty of times.  Usually in anger, shouted through the door of Jack's trailer, or out the window of his truck, or muttered across the neck of a bottle of beer. This time, the words calmed him.

Stede sniffed, a bitchy little sound that made Ed's heart sing. "Well, I’m sure his wife will be happy to hear that."

Ed laughed. "Annie and Jack, they've always seen the world in the same way. I don't understand it, really, but…" he glanced over at Stede and chose his words carefully. "I’ve always been, kinda, a one-man guy. You know what I mean? That's the way I like it. But that’s not Jack's way, or Annie's. Never has been."

They were closer to town, now, and Ed turned right, onto the paved road that would lead them back to Orange Sky. The occasional car would pass them heading the other direction, ready to start a long summer weekend on the shores of Lake Tahoe.

Ed let the silence rest between them. He didn't want to push Stede today, not when he'd already come so far in such a short time.

After a minute, Stede spoke. "Well. I think I am, too. A one-man guy, I mean." 

Ed tried to play it cool, but he smiled despite himself.  "Good."

"Good."

+++

When they pulled into the ranch, it was already buzzing with morning activity. Herb was carrying a pitcher of coffee out to the front porch to refill the cups of two of the boarders, and he squinted when the truck approached. His eyes flicked between Ed and Stede, almost imperceptibly, and then he turned away.

"What day is it?" Stede asked, sounding a little strained.

"Friday. July 10."

Stede sighed. "Have I really only known you for three weeks?"

Stay, Ed wanted to say . Stay and know me longer.

But in the bright light of day, there was nothing left to do but go their separate ways. “Have a good day, Professor Bonnet.” Ed smiled.

“Have a good day, Edward.” Stede’s glance darted- first out the windshield, to the ranch, then back to Ed, down to Ed’s lips. “I’d like to kiss you goodbye.” he whispered.

“Stede, we can’t.”

“No, I know!” Stede assured him. “Of course. I’d just like to, is all.”

A wave of tenderness crashed against Ed, as warm as the lake water. “How would you kiss me, right now? If you could?”

“Gently,” Stede murmured.

“Yeah. Gently.” Ed murmured right back. He held his gaze for as long as he could before it became unbearable, then twisted around to open the truck door and step out. It was fine. Ed headed around the back to his studio and Stede climbed the creaky stairs to his bedroom, where they both cleaned up and laid in their separate beds and tried not to think about how close it all was to being over.

+++

"Trust me," Lucius slid a worn paperback across the library counter, "you'll like this one. This is a personal loan, but library rules apply. I want it back, clean , or I'm cutting you off." He smirked at the sight of Stede's blush.

Ed nudged Stede's hip. "Just give the kid what he wants or you'll never hear the end of it. Take the book and say thank you."

"Thank you," Stede dutifully repeated, and he shoved the pulp fiction deep into his briefcase while glancing around the empty library.

Ed half-listened while Stede and Lucius gabbed excitedly about this and that. It turned out those two were peas in a pod, sharing a common language of books and movies and snide little observations that made Ed wince as often as they made him laugh. Maybe Ed should be jealous- Lucius had a reputation, after all- but he wasn't. Seeing a new side of Stede just meant seeing more Stede , and Ed wasn't going to turn that down.

He started paying attention again when Lucius slapped a heavy atlas down on the counter. "Now, look-" he bossed Stede, "Since you don't know anything about your own life, I had to look it up myself. Claremont is right next to Los Angeles! You never said!"

"Ah, is it?" Stede bent over the counter to look, shooting Ed the smallest sideways glance on the way down. "That's-"

"I'm seething with jealousy, you know. I have enough saved up for gas money to get to California, but Pete says we shouldn't go until we can afford rent, too, because we don't know about jobs or anything. I hate to think that he's right- he might be, honestly- but I hate waiting even more." He pouted. "I want you to send me a postcard the minute you get to Hollywood, you hear me?"

Ed cleared his throat. "Reckon we should get a move on, yeah?" Stede had an appointment with his divorce lawyer, the Swedish guy, and, well. Ed didn't want to drop him off late.

Lucius looked Ed up and down with a knowing expression that he really hated, before turning his attention to unlocking a drawer below his desk.

"Izzy mentioned that you were dropping by the bar," Lucius said as he pulled out a manila envelope, "Can you give him this?"

Ed furrowed his brow. "When did you start spending time with Iz?"

Lucius performed a dramatic sigh, complete with his chin resting on his first. "The old girl's been lonely since his best friend started spending all his time with a blond bombshell." He batted his eyes at both of them. "I'm only doing my good Christian charity. Elderly outreach."

"Yeah, you're a real saint, Lu." Ed didn't hesitate to open the clasp of the Manila envelope. If nobody else in Reno could mind their own business, why should he?

Stede looked over Ed's shoulder at the magazine. "Aren't you going to give him the same rigamarole you gave me? Take good care of the precious book, and all that?"

"Eh," Lucius shrugged. "I know Izzy's good for it."

Before Stede could protest Lucius’s double standard, Ed rapped his knuckles on the library desk and winked. "Let's get out of here."

+++

Benji's Barroom was not a happening spot at eleven in the morning. Jack and Ed were the only patrons to be seen, and they had their pick of the tables. Still, they sat at the bar, at what they had always considered “their” seats, and nursed bottles of beer as they went over wedding plans. 

"Anne's parents aren’t coming?” Ed asked, “The invitation said they were throwing the damned thing."

Jack pawed at his beer bottle, peeling away the soggy corner of the label with his thumb.  "Naw, that was Annie's idea. She thought maybe if they saw their names all together on the invitation, they'd wanna be here for the wedding. Didn’t work out, I guess."

Ed winced. "They still won't talk to her, huh?"

"Who needs 'em, anyway? She's got the mother of all Mother Hens right over there." Jack raised his voice to address Izzy, who was wiping down the stools at the other end of the bar. "Izzy, you'd never turn Annie away for, y'know…

Izzy didn't stop cleaning, he just looked up and raised an eyebrow. "For getting knocked up by a mediocre rodeo clown?"

"Hey!" Jack pointed an indignant finger at Izzy. "I am the best goddamn rodeo clown in Nevada!"

With a pointed, long-suffering sigh, Izzy flipped his dishrag over his shoulder. "I'm going in the back," he said to Ed, "holler for me if he starts breaking things."

Jack stood up to shout after him. "I won a prize!!" Ed's shoulders shook with silent laughter as Jack grumbled about disrespect for the fine art of rodeo clowning. 

When Izzy was gone, though, Jack leaned close on his barstool and dropped his voice to a low rumble. "You still holding onto the key to my trailer, Eddie?"

"Jesus wept, Jack, your wedding is in a week. If you think I'm going to slip over there for a nooner any time you-” 

“Hey, hey!” Jack threw his hands up in the air. “I was gonna ask you to feed Whippy while we're on our honeymoon.”

Ed knew what Jack sounded like when he was bullshitting- this wasn't that. “I'm serious, man. We're really going for it this time. I'm making an honest woman of Anne, and she's making an honest man of me. Besides," he leered, like he couldn't stay sincere for more than a minute, "Everybody says you've only got eyes for that married doctor these days."

It never got less annoying, the way everybody in Reno knew everybody else's affairs. "Shut up. He's not- married , exactly, you know that."

"Yeah, sure." Jack waved the distinction away. "Does that mean you're gonna make an honest woman outta Dr. Steve?"

"Don't be a jerk, man." Ed muttered, surprised by how much the jab actually hit him between the ribs.

Jack chuckled, a small, inward laugh that was nothing like his usual guffaw. "Funny thing is, I'm really trying not to be." Ed just watched him, waiting for the punchline, but it never came. Jack continued, staring at the bar counter, "I don't know. I thought maybe it would be good for the baby if his old man wasn't a complete asshole."

Ed knew a thing or two about asshole fathers, and what he had seen of John Rackham Senior was enough to make him glad his own dad died in the drunk tank back in '43. He made a small sound of agreement- about as much sympathy as Jack could take without getting pissed.

The old familiar loose smile crawled onto Jack's face. "The last thing Reno needs is another little lowlife like us, huh?" 

"I'll drink to that." Their beer bottles knocked together with a hollow clink . Ed finished his drink and watched Jack do the same. He hesitated. Normally that would be the end of it, but hell, Ed was really on a tear this week, talking about his feelings and all. So he took a breath. "You're not your dad, Jack. You never have been. You know that, right?"

Jack scowled. "Yeah, shut up. 'Course I know that. Don't let that fancy man turn you into a sissy, now." He slid off of the tall barstool to leave, but Ed thought he could see the shadow of a smile under the brim of his cowboy hat as he jammed it back on his head.

"Have the old lady put the beer on my tab, will ya?" Jack called over his shoulder as he walked toward the door. Then, much louder, "I'm leaving! You can come out now!" When he heaved the door open, the daylight flooded into the dark bar. Lit from behind like that, Jack's expression was a mystery when he said, "Hey, man. Thanks. For feeding my snake."

The heavy door slammed shut. Ed's eyes were still adjusting from the shock of sunshine when Izzy slinked out from the backroom. 

"I don't know what you ever saw in him."

Ed aimed his beer bottle toward the trash can in front of Izzy and threw it. "Oh, yes you do."

It was a perfect shot.

+++

Ed left the truck on as he waited for Stede to come out of the lawyer's office. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of the music, mentally preparing his play list for that night's DJ set. When Stede appeared at last, Ed excitedly honked the horn and waved out the window, as if there was any chance of Stede missing the shiny black truck parked on the street outside.

When Stede stepped into his seat, though, he looked rattled. His hands gripped his knees like he was stopping them from shaking, and his face was pale.

"Hey, hey," Ed kept his voice low and steady, "what's going on? You look like you saw a ghost."

"Two ghosts, actually," Stede whispered. "Mary's representation in the divorce proceedings. Badminton & Badminton, Attorneys at Law."

+++

"May I have a cigarette?"

Ed didn't bother reminding Stede that he was trying to quit. It was clear from the waver in his voice that he needed it. Ed lit the cigarette in his own lips before passing it to Stede. He wanted to kiss him, soft but strong, something that said 'let me protect you'- but the memory of his lips on the cigarette would have to do the trick.

They were out on the border of the Orange Sky property, barely keeping up the pretense that Ed was working. Stede perched delicately on the edge of the split-rail fence while Ed stood and leaned against it, resting on his elbows and surveying the field in front of them. 

It wasn't as private as Ed wanted- when was it ever?- but at least they could speak freely, with nobody in earshot. So Ed listened as Stede explained why these lawyers had them so spooked.

"Their father was friendly with my father- and my father-in-law, too, I suppose. It only makes sense that he would hire them to represent Mary. I hadn't thought-" Stede's knees were bouncing with nerves, which made the fence vibrate. "I've known the twins as long as we've been in the United States, what with our fathers' friendship. He was always sending us off together, enrolling us in the same schools. I suspect my father wanted me to be more like them. They were always…"

"Assholes?" Ed wagered a guess.

Stede took a long drag on his cigarette before answering. "They're not kind, I'll tell you that. We took our riding lessons together, and one of them claimed that he saw me looking- or, staring, he said- at my stallion's, um… privates. The twins told the rest of the boys, and one thing led to another and…"

Ed held his breath, waiting for the worst.

"...they made me kiss the horse. And they all called me broodmare for the rest of the term." Stede’s head hung with shame.

"Jesus Christ," Ed swore. It had been sixteen years since Ed properly beat the shit out of anybody, but just then he was itching to track down a couple of lawyers and throttle them. "And now your ex-wife hired them?"

Stede sighed. "Oh, I doubt Mary had any say in it; this is all her father. Besides, she never knew about any of that boyish nonsense."

Ed felt a soft pang- half pity and half pride- when he realized that he was probably the only person Stede had ever told about his torment. He needed his own smoke, he decided, and pulled out his case.

"That's a very fine cigarette case," Stede said, changing the subject as elegantly as ever. Ed hefted the case in his hand, stroking his thumb over the clasp.

"Yeah? Mom gave it to me when I left for college." He chuckled. "Pretty swell of her to let me keep it when I came home."

The rest of that story sat in the air between them, unspoken. Edward Teach at eighteen years old, so sure he knew how the world worked, pressing an unwanted kiss against the lips of a horrified academic. Edward Teach, sent back home to Reno with a red stamp on his transcript that said indecent behavior . 

Ed felt another soft pang when he realized that Stede was the first person he had told about his expulsion in twenty years.

"Did your mother know? Why you were expelled, or… any of it?" Stede glanced at the ranch house. "For that matter, does Herb know?"

Does Herb know? Ed didn’t blame Stede for asking. He hadn't been around long enough to realize that their whole cozy relationship was built on the scaffolding of not thinking too hard about that question. 

"No. Maybe? No. Not Herb, anyway. Not as far as I know. Lord knows there were enough reasons for a kid like me to get kicked out of school without, y'know." Ed lit his own cigarette, let the sweet smoke fill his lungs, grateful for the delay. "Mom knew, though. Even before college, I mean- she knew about me . I don't think she ever said it to Herb, hell, she never even told me she knew. But… I know she knew."

"And how did she, ah… feel, about it?"

"I don't know! I'll never know, man." Ed said it as much to remind himself as anything else. "I was never brave enough to bring it up and talk to her about it properly. Guess she wasn't either. But I know she loved me anyhow. I know that much."

Stede opened his mouth to respond and closed it without saying a word.

Ed knew enough about Stede's upbringing by now to know that love wasn't a sure thing for him. Not even from his family. Maybe that was why he hadn't said anything to Ed about- not that he needed to, of course, but maybe.

He shifted on the fence, "Listen, man." 

Ed said nothing. Finally, Stede raised his eyebrows, urging him on. "I'm listening?"

"You remember, uh, the other night- when we were by the lake?"

A shudder rippled down Stede's whole body. He looked over at the ranch house again, worried this this time, as if the memory of their night together was going to alert everybody in the area. Then he looked right at Ed. 

"Of course I remember," he murmured, already pink. "I remember it every chance I get."

His boldness made Ed want to drag him off somewhere for a repeat performance, but no. He needed to stay on target. "You remember- I don't know if you remember, uh, what I said to you?"

Stede's eyes crashed shut like a gate. He remembered, all right.

Now Ed was blushing, too, cursing himself for starting a conversation he didn't know how to end. "Hell, Stede. I just, uh- I meant what I said. That's not something I say every time, or to just anybody. That's all. I just wanted - I just needed you to know that."

When Stede's eyes opened, they were bright with tears. "I remember what you said, Ed." Then he smiled, an unguarded, lopsided thing, and in the catalog of all of Stede Bonnet's smiles, that was the one that Ed would circle and save up for every time. 

But there was something else in Stede's expression, all mixed up with the smile and the bright eyes. 

Ed knew fear when he saw it.

Stay, he wanted to say . Stay here and let me love you until you accept it without hesitation. 

But instead he gave what he hoped was a casual shrug. "You don't have to say anything. Probably I shouldn't've brought it up. It's just, y'know, I-"

" Ed ." The fear was still on Stede's face, but the smile was still there, too. And the smile was winning. "Ed-" he repeated as his eyes dropped down to Ed's lips. He took a breath. 

"Ed!"

They leaped away from each other on instinct as soon as Walter's voice rang across the field. "Pop says he needs you out back!"

+++

With all the work that Herb had for Ed, he didn’t even see Stede again until supper. 

It was agony, pure and simple, to love Stede Bonnet and sit with him in silence at a crowded dinner table. Ed wanted to sing. He wanted to shout. He wanted to sweep all the dishes off of the table and pin Stede down on it. He would look so sweet with his pink cheek pressed against the wood, eyes rolling back in his head as he whimpered for more, love -

Easy, Eddie. 

Ed gritted his teeth, passed the potatoes, and tried his damnedest not to broadcast love every time he looked across the table.

+++

It wasn't any easier to focus at the radio station. Too many songs reminded him of the way Stede smiled at him that afternoon. Ed had never noticed how many love songs were actually about saying goodbye. 

For what must’ve been the sixth time that night, Ed shook his head and tried to pull himself out of his mooning. He was there to work, not daydream. So he played Down Texas Way, and he played Bronco Buster, and when his hand lingered over So Used to Loving You , he made it move down the stacks until he picked up In the Jailhouse Now instead. 

Once his two endless hours were over, Ed debated driving out to Benji’s Barroom for a nightcap. The kid at the library was right when he said that Ed had been neglecting Izzy. But tonight he was bone-tired and crabby, and the sooner he got to bed, the sooner he could wake up and have his early morning alone with Stede.

It was nearly midnight by the time he drove Queen Anne down the long ranch driveway. He crawled into bed, lay on his side, rested his hand on his stomach and fell asleep imagining Stede holding him there.

+++

The first thing Ed heard as he approached the kitchen the next morning was a thin strain of Stede’s laughter. He couldn’t help smiling at the sound, but then his brow furrowed- who was in there with him, anyhow? Unless Barney Google and Snuffy Smith had gotten a lot funnier lately, he doubted Stede was laughing at the newspaper.

Sure enough, one of the other boarders was in the kitchen- Mr. Wellington, the insurance salesman. He was leaning against the kitchen counter as he talked, gesturing broadly, not even pausing in his joke to acknowledge Ed’s entrance.

“...Finally, the third man, an actuary, puts his head in the guillotine hole, looks up, and says, 'Oh! I can tell you what the problem is!'”

Wellington slapped both of his palms on his thighs and looked expectantly at Stede, who only hesitated for half a second before letting out another polite chuckle. His eyes met Ed’s mid-laugh, a conspiratorial look that plainly meant ‘can you believe this guy?’. Ed raised his eyebrows in agreement before slouching over to the coffee pot to serve himself.

“Good morning, Ed,” Stede said pointedly. “Mr. Wellington here was just giving me one last insurance joke for the road.”

Right. Wellington was due at the courthouse at nine that morning, and he’d be on the four o’clock train out of Reno that very afternoon. It was on Ed’s schedule that day- haul Wellington’s luggage into the truck by two thirty, then depart for the station at three. 

Ed had sent off more newly divorced men that way than he could count. Hand the luggage off to the porter, shake the man’s hand, and wish him well on the rest of his life. He'd never thought much about it before- just part of the job. But suddenly, the idea of it turned his stomach.

“Your own blessed day isn’t far away, is it, Doctor Bonnet?” Wellington asked. Ed wanted to kick him in the shins.

“Quite right,” Stede peered into his teacup like it was the only thing in the room worth looking at. “Two weeks from today, actually. Then I’ll be on the next train west, I suppose.”

Wellington nodded. “My sales territory is strictly Midwestern, you know, but if I’m ever on your side of the Rockies, I’ll be sure to look you up. In the meantime- the fellows at the Knights of Columbus lodge are taking me out to lunch this afternoon. I don’t suppose you’d like to join us?” Again, he acted as if Ed wasn’t in the room. 

Stede shot Ed a desperate look before answering.”Not this afternoon!? Oh, how dreadful. I already promised Ed my help this afternoon.”

“Helping around the ranch?” Wellington barked a short, sharp laugh. “What help will you be, exactly?”

Being ignored and patronized by Mr. Wellington was one thing, but hearing him condescend to Stede was a bridge too far. Ed felt the anger flare in his chest, but managed to tamp it down before it could grow into trouble. “Suit shopping!” he said smoothly. “I’ve got a wedding next Friday- I’m a groomsman.  Since Doctor Bonnet’s such a stylish guy, I asked him to give me a hand.”

Not even Mr. Wellington could argue with that, but Ed didn’t miss the way his eyes narrowed as nodded. “Sure. Well, Doctor Bonnet- I hope you and Ed have great fun at Sears. If I don’t see you again- it’s been a pleasure.” He shook Stede’s hand and excused himself.

“Ed, I-” Stede began as soon as they were alone in the kitchen, but Ed held his finger to his own lips. They couldn’t speak freely there, not as long as Mr. Wellington was still around.

“Doctor Bonnet,” Ed said carefully, “thank you again for your offer to help me with my shopping.”

Stede looked him over, thoroughly distracted.“My pleasure, I’m sure, Although- we're so close to the same size. I mean, I’m guessing we are. I know I packed something suitable for a wedding- if you wanted to try on something of mine, that is.”

“Something of yours?” Ed nodded, just to have something to do while he reeled at the idea of slipping on one of Stede’s fine shirts. “Right. It’s good luck for a wedding, isn’t it? Something borrowed?”

It was torture, not being able to kiss the bridge of Stede’s nose when it wrinkled up in silent laughter. “That's just for the bride, I think.” 

"Oh, yeah,” Ed chuckled. “Should we head up and take a look?”

“What, now?”

“Sure. No time like the present,” Ed jerked his chin toward the stairs. 

+++

“Wow.”

“Is that a good ‘wow’, or a-”

“Just ‘wow, Stede Bonnet was not kidding when he called himself a clotheshorse.’”

Stede hummed self-consciously and disappeared back into his racks of clothing. It was the first time Ed had spent any real time in Stede’s bedroom since they had become lovers, and the intimacy of it prickled his skin. The bedroom door was wide open for the sake of propriety, of course, but it would be easy, too easy, to join Stede in the spacious closet, slip one hand over his mouth to keep him quiet, slip the other hand into his pants and work him until he was shaking and spurting-

No .

He needed to get it together.

Ed stood up, suddenly too full of nervous energy to sit on the foot of Stede’s meticulously-made bed. He peered into the closet where Stede was carefully considering two identical-looking jackets, both far finer than anything Ed owned. Stede looked up. "Do you really need a suit after all, Ed? Or was that just an excuse for…" he rolled his eyes in the direction of the door, as adorably unsubtle as ever.

He had exactly one suit to his name, a grisly black number that he wore to his mother’s funeral and hadn’t looked at since. "Yeah, I need a suit. Figured I'd buy one at Weinstock's sometime. You don't have to-"

"Hush." Stede's voice was sharp, but his look was soft, so unbelievably soft. He held a suit out for Ed to take. "This is the one."

+++

Stede was right, that suit was the one. Ed gave himself a half-turn in the bathroom mirror, smoothing down the lines of the pants, not even embarrassed with how pleased he was by his own reflection. “You can come in,” he called through the bathroom door, and when Stede cracked the door open and peeked in, he struck what he hoped was an artful pose.

If the look on Stede’s face was anything to go by, the suit passed muster.

“ Ed, ” Stede breathed, almost reverent, “You look… enchanting.”

“Enchanting, huh?” Suddenly self-conscious, Ed huffed a laugh. “I was only aiming for ‘formal’.”

Stede rested his hand on the sink counter, as if he needed the stability. “I daresay you overshot the mark a little bit.” He reached his other hand out, then pulled it back before he could touch and rested it on his own chest.

“My goodness, Stede Bonnet,” Ed murmured, “you like seeing me in your clothes, don’t you?”  He didn’t get an answer, just a brief, bitten-away smile and a wistful look. “Penny for your thoughts?”

Stede looked away, peering out the bathroom door again before carefully setting it in a half-closed position. With the angle of the door and the position of the bathroom, nobody could see them from the hallway. “I was thinking about how much I, ah- how much I’d like to kiss you.”

The risk was too much. Even Ed knew that. “Not here. Not at the ranch.”

“Right. You’re right.” Stede pouted and sighed as he idly turned to the sink and started rearranging bottles and jars. If they had all the time in the world together, Ed would ask Stede about every single one of his little cosmetics, egging on each sweet little tangent with just the right question. Hell, maybe he’d even ask Stede to put all those creams and potions on his face one day, just for fun.

Stede was still pouting, still glancing at Ed like something delicious. “Maybe though,” he shifted his weight from one foot to another, “maybe just one kiss?”

If they had all the time in the world…

“Just one?” Ed knew as soon as he asked that he was already lost.

“Just one.”

Ed took a step closer to Stede, and then another, and then he leaned forward and brushed their lips together. It started as a chaste kiss. Ed had every intention of pulling away quickly, he really did, but he lost his sense, just like he usually did where Stede was concerned. And Stede was right there with him- he started to kiss Ed deeper, dropping his hand to Ed’s hip, pulling him in closer until he was grinding Stede against the sink.

Stede let out a whine of protest when their lips parted. Then another when Ed pushed him away at the shoulders. “Wha-”

“One kiss.” Ed stepped away. “I’m a man of my word, Stede.”

Stede’s brows drew together in a scowl. “Ed…”

“One kiss,” Ed repeated, and smirked at the sound of disappointment that escaped Stede’s lips, just as soft and sweet as he expected it might be. 

What he didn’t expect was Stede reaching out to stop his retreat, wrapping his fingers around the lapels of that fine gray suit and pulling him back until they were inches away from each other.

If Ed was hungry for Stede, Stede looked like a starving man. He licked his lips, but he was good, he didn’t try to kiss Ed again. He just leaned impossibly close and whispered “Let’s get out of here.”

“Out?” Ed's sputtering brain could only repeat what Stede was saying.

“There’s got to be somewhere we can be alone. Safely. I want-” his eyes wandered freely over Ed’s lips, his chest, his throat- “I want to show you.”

"Show me?" Ed echoed again.

"How I feel about you. Ed, I…" Stede let go of the lapels and smoothed them, letting his hands rest against Ed’s chest. Ed’s heart was pounding now, he knew Stede could feel it through the fabric. "Please, let me show you how I feel."

All Ed could do was nod desperately. “Okay. Yeah. Yeah, let’s-” He paused. Considered. It was eight in the morning on a Tuesday, where could they go? “Screw it, let’s just get in the truck. We’ll figure something out.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

After a hasty change back into his work clothes, and what he hoped was a decent job hanging up Stede’s suit, Ed rushed down the creaky stairs two at a time to join Stede out front. They laughed as the Chevy pulled past the Orange Sky fences and onto the open road.

As soon as Ed spotted the derelict barn off to the left, he knew what to do. He swerved off of the dirt road and onto the loose dirt of the unused lot. Stede yelped at the shift. “What are you doing?”

There was no need to answer- it was clear when the truck came to a stop on the far side of the abandoned barn. They weren’t visible from the road, and unless somebody came marching through what used to be an alfalfa field, they weren’t visible from anywhere else, either.

Without so much as a glance around to ensure their privacy, Stede threw himself onto Ed. 

Stede was heavy above him- solid on his lap, warm. Their frantic groping was accompanied by hard, wet kisses, and their desperate hips rutted and rolled.

Ed murmured into Stede’s mouth, “You wanted to show me something?”

"Yes,” Stede whispered. “God, Ed, may I?” He reached for one of Ed’s hands and brought it to his face, just hovering there until Ed had the sense to nod yes . Only then did Stede begin. 

Gently, impossibly gently, he brought Ed’s wrist to his lips and kissed the sensitive skin there. He turned Ed’s hand over and kissed the first set of knuckles, and then the second, and then the tips of each finger. Finally, he touched his lips into the palm of Ed's hand, and then pressed it over his heart. He blanketed it with his own hand,  ten fingers slotting together over the rise and fall of Stede's chest. 

“Can you feel it, Ed?” 

“Yeah,” he breathed. “Yeah, I can.”

And he did. The most wonderful man in the world was there in Ed’s truck, in Ed’s lap , pouring his whole heart into Ed’s hand. It was more than he deserved, it was too much- like staring into the sun. It was a relief to close his eyes when Stede leaned down to kiss him. Stede kissed his eyelids and his cheeks, and when their lips brushed together, Stede murmured his devotion into Ed’s mouth, sweet little nothings that were better than anything Ed had ever had before.

There was a shift, and then Ed felt Stede’s hands fumble with his belt. He opened his eyes to see Stede’s hopeful face above him. He exhaled audibly when their eyes met and raised up a little higher, his knees braced on the sides of Ed's hips.

"You're brilliant." He kissed Ed's forehead. "And- handsome." Ed's cheek. "And you're my favorite part of every day." His lips, soft and chaste. "You make me feel good, Ed. You know that, don't you?"

Ed flexed the hand that was still pressed against Stede’s chest, feeling the pounding of his heart clear enough to count the beats. “Yeah.” He couldn't say anything else, not without revealing the catch in his throat.

Stede’s thumb was circling the button on Ed’s fly. “I want to make you feel good, Ed. I want to put my mouth on you. Is that-”

“Yep,” Ed muttered as his head hit the back of the car seat. “Yep, that’s good. That’s really good.” He tugged Stede’s shirt free from his slacks and slid his palm underneath, snaking up the soft warmth of Stede’s stomach, feeling the shift of the muscle underneath as Stede laughed self-consciously. Ed’s hand came to a rest over Stede’s heart again. He didn’t need to hear the words. “I feel it, Stede. I do.” 

He felt and heard Stede’s breath hitch. “Ed.”

“I know, sweetheart. Me too.”

There wasn’t a lot of room in the cab of the truck, not enough for Stede to get on his knees. Instead, Ed twisted sideways and spread his legs, one knee propped up against the back of the bench seat, the other dangling off the edge, with Stede bent over in between. It wasn’t ideal, not with Ed’s back jammed against the door, but when Stede slid lower and buried his face between Ed’s thighs, it was hard to think of anything better.

“Good God, Stede-” he murmured when Stede rubbed his nose against the length of Ed’s prick, smelling it like a damned rose before finally putting his mouth on him. He was clumsy, still- it was only his second time sucking a guy off, after all- but he was learning, and the way he was so eager to please was threatening Ed’s self control. 

He couldn’t help touching Stede’s face while he sucked him, running his thumb across Stede’s jaw, smoothing the hair off of his forehead. By the time Stede remembered what to do with his tongue, Ed was already on the edge

“Just like that, love, just- like- that-”

Stede watched, eyes wide, as Ed twitched and came into his waiting mouth. Ed arched his neck back against the seat as he groaned through his climax, and then everything was white, and he was lax and loose.

When he came down from his pleasure, he took in the sight of Stede, pink and perfect,  even with a drop of Ed's come leaking from the corner of his mouth. Stede swallowed the rest and his throat bobbed delicately. 

Ed hastily tucked himself into his pants before swinging his legs around and manhandled Stede back into his lap. Stede gave an undignified shout- almost a shriek, really- but it dissolved into a giggle as soon as Stede had his arms around Ed's neck.

His lips were glistening and swollen from use, and Ed couldn't help pressing his thumb against them. Stede kissed gently at the tip of the thumb, just like Ed hoped he would, and this new thing- this way they were learning each other- filled Ed's chest with something dangerously close to hope.

“What do you want, Stede?" He asked. "What can I give you?”

Stede’s eyes fluttered. “Am I allowed to kiss you? After doing that?”

Ed answered his question by pulling his face down into a searing kiss, long enough that they were both panting when they broke apart. “If it were up to me, you’d be allowed to kiss me every minute of the goddamn day, Stede.” 

“Oh! What a wonderful idea.” 

They plunged into another kiss and didn’t break apart, not even while Ed pulled and prodded Stede into straddling his hips again. When they broke for air, Ed growled into Stede’s mouth. “We're never leaving this truck.”

“Whatever you like, Ed.” Stede purred as he ground himself eagerly against Ed's chest.

Stay , he wanted to say. Stay right here, and I’ll teach you a hundred ways we can take each other apart.

But instead he nuzzled against Stede’s chest as he said, “Or even better- I’ll take you away. Somewhere they’ll never find us. China.”

“China?” Stede laughed as Ed popped open the first few buttons of his shirt. “It’s quite far away.”

“That’s the point,” he said, pressing teasing kisses down the line of Stede’s throat. “What do you say?”

Stede’s fingers wove into Ed’s curls and tugged. “Sure, Ed, take me to China. Anywhere you like, just keep-” 

“Or-” Ed continued, and then thought better of it.

Stay , he wanted to say. Stay with me. Don’t leave. I can’t handle it.

“Or?” Stede sighed happily, tugging Ed’s head to the exact spot on his neck he wanted to be kissed.

Stay , he wanted to say.

“Stay,” he said. “You could stay here.”

The muscles of Stede's neck tensed and stilled under Ed's lips. “I could- what?”

Working against every animal instinct, Ed pulled his mouth off Stede's warm skin. Stede sat up straighter and Ed tilted his head up to meet his wide, unbelieving eyes. The lump in Ed's throat was back, but he swallowed it away before he asked.

"Stay in Reno. With me."

"Stay in Reno?" Stede's eyes flicked between Ed's. "Is that- what do you mean?"

There was no taking it back now. Ed tried to keep his voice steady as he spoke. "I mean- don't go."

"You're being serious?"

Ed nodded. "You could stay, if you wanted to. I want you to."

Stede ran a hand through his hair. "What, and rent a room at Orange Sky forever?"

The word forever echoed in Ed's ears.

"No, no. We could get our own place. I've got money, Stede." He ran some numbers quickly in his head. "I've got over four thousand dollars saved. Enough for a down payment on a house, or a trailer, maybe-"

"You've really been thinking about this?" Stede asked weakly.

Not exactly, not directly, but it wasn't a lie either when Ed answered "I can't stop thinking about it. Haven't you?"

They were still wrapped up in each other there on the bench seat of Queen Anne. Any possibility of getting Stede off was gone now, and with sex out of the equation, the position was almost grotesque. Ed briskly patted Stede's thighs, and Stede understood without being told. He dismounted Ed's lap, but he didn’t go far. Plastered against Ed's side, he dropped his head on Ed's shoulder, and it was the most natural thing in the world for Ed to lift his arm and drape it over Stede's shoulders.

They both looked ahead at the empty field that grew alfalfa once upon a time.

Stede let his head rest on Ed's shoulder as he spoke. "I never thought… I didn't come here expecting to fall in love." 

“But you did.” Ed knew it sounded like an accusation when he said it. “You did fall in love.”

"I did." Stede heaved a breath, and for a moment Ed thought he would cry. Then, steadier, he continued. "I really did. God help me, Ed, I'm in love with you."

There they were, the words Ed had longed for, and more- he had hoped for I love , and here he was being given I am in love instead. It felt bigger, rarer, although Ed didn’t understand why. He understood one thing, though. "I'm in love with you, too."

Stede gripped Ed’s hand where it was resting on his shoulder. They were as connected as they were going to get, pressed against each other as if they were huddling together for warmth, there in the stifling heat of the Chevy.

“I think you could fit here, Stede. I think maybe you already do. Can’t you picture it? Driving down to the lake for a swim early some mornings. Going to Benji’s after dinner. I’ll fill that jukebox up with slow songs and dance with you all night.” Ed stopped. Started over.  “I work hard, Stede. I make my own money, I’m no charity case if that’s what you-” 

“ Ed .”

“I just mean- I could take care of you here.” He felt Stede sigh into the side of his chest. “I could take real good care of you, if you wanted me to. Get a little place of our own? There are other guys who do it.”

Stede wasn’t saying much of anything- but he wasn’t saying no, either. All the nerves in Ed’s body were buzzing and jangling, but Stede was still there under his arm, and the dream Ed was building was close enough to touch.

“What about your stepfather? Your brother? Who would they think I am to you?” 

Ed had always been good at talking his way out of trouble. He was a quick thinker with an even quicker mouth, and usually, his brain caught up with his voice in time to solve whatever problem he was facing. This time, though, he was stumped. 

His silence hung between them for a minute. Finally, a minute too late, Ed responded. "It would be fine. I'll figure something out. Always do."

Maybe it was the wrong thing to say, because Stede shook his head. "I don't know. I have a life waiting for me in California."

There was still hope fluttering in Ed's heart, but it was starting to feel more like a moth stuck at the edge of a lamp. "What life?" he scoffed, "What's in California, anyway, that's so important? A job?"

"Yes, Edward." Stede's spine straightened. "A job, for one thing. A lease on a house, and-"

"There are jobs here. We've got the community college-"

Stede huffed a breath that sounded awfully close to a laugh. "I'm not- that's not exactly-"

"All right, I get it." It stung, just a little. "A job isn't a life, Stede. I could give you a life here."

"I know you could, darling." The pet name was new, and it felt sweet even through the pain, like a kiss on a bruise. "And it sounds- God, it sounds so wonderful."

Ed tipped his head back against the car seat and blinked back the heavy tears that were threatening to spill over. "Then why aren't you saying yes yet?"

"Please," Ed didn't dare look at Stede's face, but his voice sounded as broken as Ed felt. "Please, can I have a minute to think? You deserve a real answer."

A squeeze of the shoulders was as good as an all right , and Ed tried his hardest to sit still and wait until Stede was ready.

"For as long as I can remember," Stede began at least, "I had to fit myself into my father's life. I lived in whatever city he worked in, I studied whatever he taught. His friends had sons, and they were supposed to be my friends. They called me Baby Bonnet, always in papa's shadow. We even shared an office, back at the University of Chicago, right until he died."

Stede shifted then, lifted Ed's arm off of his shoulder and turned to face him. His eyes were red with denied tears, and Ed was sure his looked just the same. 

"Ed, you built a life for yourself here in Reno, and I can see the space in it for me, and I- I know I would fit right in that space. I know it. But- this is my first chance, ever , to make my own life. Not just fit into somebody else's. Not even yours." He reached for Ed's hands with his own. "All we have is this one life, and I have to try to make it my own. I have to. Can you forgive me?"

Ed hated how much sense it made. He wanted to be angry at Stede. God, he would love to get angry right then and there, it would be easier. If it was Jack sitting next to him, breaking his heart, Ed could really get his blood boiling. But he couldn't do it. Stede was keeping that from him, too.

"Nah. Nothing to forgive," he rasped, "It makes sense, what you're saying. I respect that. Just thought it was worth asking, is all."

"I'm glad you asked," Stede whispered. "I love that you asked. I love you. " His eyes scanned Ed's face. "I don't think I can stop being in love with you."

"Just try and stop me from loving you, Stede Bonnet," Ed said, and then pulled him in for a soft, tender kiss.

When they slowly pulled apart, Stede sighed. "So- that's it? We just keep on like this until my divorce is finalized and I get on the train to California?"

It hurt like hell to do it, but Ed nodded anyway. "We'll make the most of the time we have. I've got you for two more weeks," he said, bringing a hand to Stede's cheek, "so I'm going to love you for two more weeks."

What Ed knew without a doubt, though, was that he was going to love Stede Bonnet for a lot longer than that.

And it was going to hurt. 

Chapter Text

It would have been so easy to say yes.

God, it would have been so easy. It would feel good, too. Ed had already made Stede feel good in more ways than he imagined possible. What a temptation it was- to tell him ' yes , I’ll stay, I’ll give you anything you want. Anything, my love.'

But Stede already knew how that would end. The rush of elation. The smile on Ed’s face bright enough to power all the neon signs in Reno at once. Bliss. And then, inevitably, Stede would get scared, and he would run. Maybe right away, or maybe on the very last day they had together, but one way or another, the pleasure would be overpowered by panic, and Stede would run.

Stede always ran, didn’t he?

And he couldn’t do that again, not to Ed. Not to a man who had already chased after him- twice . It had taken time to believe that Ed loved him, that Ed really loved Stede, but once he let himself believe, it was impossible to deny. How could anybody run away from love like that? Stede was a coward, truly, but he wasn’t cruel.

And so, he said no. 

And so, he marked off each day in his calendar, before bed, the same as he ever did. 

And so, they resolved to make the most of the time they had left. 

Making the most of it, it turned out, meant quite a few more secret visits to the toolshed, and behind the old barn, and even one daring half hour spent in a copse of trees out at the edge of Orange Sky territory, where Ed pushed Stede’s back against the wide trunk of a tree and took him apart with his mouth. 

It was easier than Stede could have guessed, making the most of it. Half the time, he didn’t even want to cry. They talked a bit about visiting- how, for example, if Stede got on the train out of Los Angeles on Thanksgiving day, he’d arrive that Friday morning and they’d have two days together before Stede had to return. Stede could book them a hotel room, he offered innocently- and then the conversation was derailed by the powerful urge to get their hands on each other. 

They took their breakfast together in the early mornings, when the rest of the house was asleep. Sometimes they laughed, and sometimes they talked in hushed tones about serious things, and sometimes they just watched each other in peaceful silence.

A week passed just like that. Seven more blue Xs were inked into Stede's calendar, with only eight more empty squares left until the California Zephyr would carry Stede west and then south, where the rest of his life was waiting for him.

For that entire week, Ed never took Stede back to Benji’s Barroom. When Stede asked why, Ed told him. “Don’t wanna share you,” he muttered and shrugged, but Stede thought he understood what Ed wasn't saying. Ed’s friends would be there waiting for him when Stede was off to California. They’d clean up the mess Stede left behind. 

“Besides,” Ed grinned, and dropped his voice to a whisper, “I saw the way you were making eyes at Ivan when he was reading you that poetry. I can’t risk him sweeping you off your feet, can I?”

Stede laughed. “Don’t tease,” he whispered back. “I’ve never made eyes at anybody but you.”

A choked-off noise escaped Ed's throat. “If you wanna go to Benji’s, though,” Ed stared into his coffee cup, “How about Friday night? There's gonna be a reception after Jack and Anne's wedding. Just a little private party.”

"Well, sure!" Stede started thinking. Now, if Ed was wearing Stede's best grey suit, then Stede could wear the navy. Or- depending on when the reception started, maybe he could make use of his summer linens!

He snapped back to attention when Ed cleared his throat. "If you wanted," Ed continued, uncharacteristically nervous, “maybe you could come to the chapel for the ceremony, too? I’ll be standing up with Jack, y’know, but that should be quick, and-”

Stede glanced over his shoulder to make sure there was nobody nearby, then covered Ed's hand with his own. "I'd love to."

+++

"What is this !?"

Ed didn't hide his amusement as he plucked a gaudy piece of fabric from where it was crisply folded on a wardrobe shelf and examined it.

"It's my cabana suit- the top of it, anyway." 

With a puff of laughter, Ed grabbed the matching shorts and held them up to his hips. The bright checks of blue, green and white barely reached his thighs. “Mate, you’d be cruising for an indecency charge in these.”

Stede snatched both pieces away in a feigned huff. “They’re for swimming in.”

“I like the suit you swam in at Lake Tahoe better. Looked good on you."

“At Lake Tahoe?” Confusion creased Stede’s forehead. “But I wasn’t wearing- oh, Ed! ” Stede turned around to cover his blush as the sensation came flooding back- cool water and warm hands dancing on the planes of his bare skin. With fumbling hands, he pulled his gray suit off the rack and pushed Ed toward the bathroom. “Stop fooling around and get yourself dressed - you don’t want to be late, do you?”

When Ed stepped, fully dressed, into the dappled morning light that filled Stede’s bedroom, he looked like a movie star. That suit was never coming to California, Stede was certain. Better for it to stay in Reno, with Ed, where Stede could at least imagine that Ed was wearing it now and then, looking for all the world like he was wearing it bespoke. It had never fit Stede so well, but on Ed, it was perfection.

Well, almost perfection.

"Take off the tie, please." Stede opened the drawer of his bedside table, where a black cardboard box was waiting for him. He opened the box carefully, as he had done a dozen times before, and stroked the edge of the glossy red stone at the center, as he had done a dozen times before.

When he turned back around, Ed's eyes widened at the sight of the bolo tie.

"I bought this for you, you know," Stede murmured as he slipped the leather cord over Ed's head and fixed his collar.

"I know."

Now, it was perfection.

Stede let his fingers drift down the peaked lapel of the jacket. “You’re supposed to leave the bottom button open.” He quickly dropped his hands to the offending button and fingered it open. “Keep it like that.”

“Yeah, all right. I will.” Ed mumbled, and Stede thrilled with triumph when he saw Ed’s cheeks redden. “Jack’ll be here soon. You sure you can drive to the chapel on your own?”

Stede nodded.

“You have the keys? And you remember that-”

“ Edward. ” Stede smirked despite his annoyance. “I promise you, I’ll get your truck to the chapel in one piece.”

Ed laughed self-consciously and rubbed the back of his neck. “Right, okay. I guess I’ll see you in a couple of hours, huh?”

A long, muffled honk sounded in the distance, followed by heavy feet stamping up the creaky staircase. Ed and Stede were already standing a respectable distance apart when Walter rocketed into Stede’s bedroom, gripping the doorframe to stop himself from falling over. “Jack’s here,” he panted. “You’d better get down there before Pop does.”

Ed grimaced and nodded. “Catch you later, mate,” he called to Stede on his way out, casual as can be.

Walter lingered in the doorway after Ed left. “Is Ed really letting you drive the Queen by yourself?”

“Just to the chapel. I can drive, Walter.” Stede said. Then, unable to resist gossip, he asked “Why does Ed need to get to Jack before your father does?”

“Jack’s banned from the ranch,” Walt grinned. “Has been, long as I can remember.”

“Why?”

Walter shrugged. “Pop just hates him. Says he’s a bad influence.”

“Ed never mentioned that,” Stede answered mildly, then muttered to himself, “I mean, in hindsight, I probably could've guessed.”

“Yeah,” Walter rocked back and forth on a particularly squeaky floorboard, seemingly enjoying the miserable sound it made. “Pop’s a tough old nut. He never liked any of Ed's buddies until you."

"Oh!” It was unreasonable how delighted Stede was. “He likes me? Your father- he said that?”

Walter shrugged again, his interest in the conversation waning. “Yeah, I guess. Anyway, I gotta-” he gestured behind himself, and at Stede’s nod, hurtled himself back down the stairs, back to whatever occupied a seventeen year old’s summer days.

+++

Stede stood at the back of the chapel and scanned the backs of the few dozen heads that filled the pews. On the bride's side, a gaggle of girls in big hats and bigger hair congregated and giggled. On the groom's, a smattering of cowboy types who hadn't even bothered to change out of their dungarees held their own hats in their hands and made eyes at the girls across the aisle. 

The only person Stede recognized was Izzy Hands, sitting with a few men who Stede didn’t know on the bridal side. 

Their eyes met, and Izzy granted Stede a polite nod, but it wasn’t exactly a gesture that screamed “come join me”, so Stede smoothed the front of his sports coat self-consciously and took a seat alone in a pew near the back. He didn’t miss the way the other men glanced back to look at him with curiosity after Izzy made some unheard remark. One of them might have even chuckled.

The organist, a frail woman who couldn't be any younger than eighty years old, hobbled over to her instrument. As she shuffled a pile of sheet music, a door off to the side opened, and Jack walked out, looking as stiff as the groom on top of a cake. Ed was right behind him, and Stede’s heart surged to see him, even though it had only been a few hours. 

Dressed in Stede’s suit, wearing the red bolo tie at his throat, Ed looked as good as he ever had. Stede wanted to commit him to memory exactly as he was right then. He hoped that there would be wedding pictures. Maybe he could take one with him, when- well.

Stede was saved from that unwelcome train of thought when the wedding march began. The crowd silenced and stood as a stout bridesmaid with close-cropped hair entered first, looking quite out of place in her taffeta cloud. Mary , Stede thought. Anne's Mary. Goodness, what must be going through her head?

Mary joined Jack and Ed at the front of the church, flanking the garish vermillion platform where the minister was waiting, and then the crowd craned their necks to wait for the bride. 

When she appeared in the archway, Stede was surprised to see her standing alone. How terribly modern, for a bride to give herself away. Then he remembered- the poor girl had been disowned by her own family. Horrible business. But there she was, with a baby on the way and a man standing up in a chapel for her. She had a new family now.

The organ went on playing, and Anne went on standing at the back of the aisle. The minister nodded at her encouragingly, but still she didn’t move. Her face was frozen in half a smile, but her eyes were filling up with tears. Apparently, she couldn’t give herself away after all.

Then Izzy, with a wordless grumble, slid out of the chapel pew and walked up the aisle to join the bride. He stood facing her, blocking her from the prying eyes of the guests, and Stede saw him pull a handkerchief out of his jacket and dab her face. 

After only a few seconds of hushed conversation, he turned to face the crowd, glaring ferociously at the few who were whispering to one another. He offered the bride his elbow, and she took it gratefully, beaming.

Anne’s smile reached her eyes this time. 

They walked down the aisle arm-in-arm, that strange pair, and if Stede didn’t know better, he’d think that he saw a tear gathering in Mr. Hands’ eye when he kissed the bride's cheek, deposited her at the altar, and took a new seat in the front pew.

The ceremony was quick and impersonal, but the way Jack and Anne glowed when they stood face-to-face was enough to charm the most cynical attendee. Even Stede’s throat tightened as the unlikely pair repeated the vows that the minister rattled out.

“Wilt thou, Calvin John Rackham,” Stede smirked to himself at the name, “take this woman, Anne…” 

Jack did.

“Wilt thou, Anne, forsaking all others…” Stede couldn’t help glancing at Mary, standing solemnly, dutifully, behind the bride. 

“I will.”

From this day forward, Jack made his promise to love and protect. And Anne promised back, words like honor and obey passing from her lips as easily as laughter.

“Bless, O Lord, this ring. May its unbroken circle be the symbol of perfect union…” as the minister continued his proclamations, Stede’s thumb caressed that pale stripe of skin where his wedding band used to sit. He thought of the magnificent altar where Mary put the ring around his finger, and he thought of the ice cream counter at Woolworth’s where Ed took it off. 

He thought about vows, and he let his eyes wander to where he hadn’t allowed himself to look before. Ed was standing straight and tall, looking every inch the perfect groomsman as he watched his friends with a placid smile. Then, as if he could feel Stede’s eyes on him (and maybe he could), he met his lover’s gaze and held it.

“And if, perchance, trials and difficulties come, may these two bind yet more closely together. Together, to work out life's problems. Together, to perform life's tasks.” It was Ed who looked away first, his dark eyes brimming with emotion while the minister continued his prayer. “And so through all the coming days, we commit them to Thee…”

Stede would never know how happy the bride and groom looked when they were pronounced husband and wife, nor would he remember the way Jack lifted Anne clear off the floor when they kissed. All he could see was Ed, standing just off center at the front of the church, and the way Ed’s hand raised up to the bolo tie at his throat and caressed the red stone before grinning and joining the rest of the church in applause. 

When the rest of the celebrants rose to their feet to cheer the new couple, Stede joined them, but his heart was standing just a few feet to their left.

+++

If Benji's Barroom was spruced up a little for the Fourth of July, it was positively decked out for Jack and Anne's wedding reception. The dance floor was clean and shiny, the tables were covered with white and red tablecloths, and even the stale smell of cigarettes was overpowered by the floral scent of freesias.

"D'you like the flower arrangements?" John Feeney preened when he joined Ed and Stede at their table. "I used to help my mother with the flowers, back at the funeral home."

Stede thought the flowers were a little artless, frankly, but he certainly wasn't going to say as much to the very large man who had never been anything but kind to him.

He was saved from answering by Ed. "I think they're a smash, Johnny," he replied smoothly, "I just hope Izzy wasn't breathing down your neck the whole time you were setting them up."

"Where is Izzy?" Stede realized he hadn't seen him since he slipped out of the chapel as soon as the wedding ceremony ended. It felt strange, being at the bar without its proprietor running around trying to control every little thing.

Ed grinned. "Just getting ready, is all. Don't worry, you'll see plenty of Izzy later." 

Ready for what? Stede almost asked, but then the jukebox cut off, midway through a song. The lights dimmed, and a rosy glow bathed the stage where the Vice-Roys were set up to play.

The night's emcee swaggered onto the stage. She was tall, dark and impeccably dressed in an all-white tuxedo, complete with tails. Custom tailoring, Stede noted, maybe even bespoke. Far too formal for the venue, of course, but somehow being overdressed just made Spanish Jackie seem to be in charge.

"Never in one thousand years did Jackie think that she was gonna see a wedding celebrated at Benji's Barroom," she began. "But if any two people could give this den of iniquity an air of respectability…" she smiled beatifically down at the bride and groom, "I sure as hell wouldn't have guessed it would be you two perverts!"

The room roared with laughter.

Jackie continued, "Sweet Annie, looking at you tonight, I still see the little girl I met all those years ago. Lying right to Jackie's face about being seventeen, trying to get a job dancing at my club. You're a firecracker, sweetie. Don't you change that for any man - least of all Calico damn Jack."

Her remarks continued for a few more minutes, largely at Jack’s expense, and then the mood in the room shifted.

"And now! Coming out of retirement for one night only…” 

Jackie had the room in the palm of her hand, and she knew it, too. 

"She’s sailed the seven seas! Great men come from miles around to kiss her ring!" Ed gave a great belly laugh and slapped his knee as Spanish Jackie raised her voice in triumph. "The Queen of Reno, Nevada…            Mrs. Isabella Ferdinand!"

In perfect sync, the Vice-Roys started a song as the curtains in the back drew open. Ed stuck two fingers in his mouth and let out a piercing whistle. Stede sat his drink on the table. All he could do was stare.

A woman, petite but with broad shoulders, stepped forward out onto the stage. Her hair was elaborately pinned up above her head, and a white flower was tucked behind her ear. Stede dimly noticed the crowd cheering and applauding, felt Ed squeezing his thigh in excitement, but all of his brain power focused on recognizing this glamorous woman, so tantalizingly familiar, who was opening her mouth to sing.

Another bride
Another groom
Another sunny honeymoon

Her voice was rich and husky, with a rasp that reminded Stede of-

"Izzy?" 

Stede's head whipped over to Ed for confirmation. Rather than tear his eyes away from the stage, Ed nodded, grinning like a fool.

Another season
Another reason
For makin' whoopee

Ed leaned in and spoke in Stede's ear. "Izzy hasn't brought the old girl out in years, I can't believe you get to see her."

Stede couldn't quite believe it, either. If he looked closely, he could imagine away the wig, he could see where the ruching of the dress gave the illusion of hips, but it was the mannerisms of this woman onstage- well, she was liquid. How she was hiding inside the stiff, combative Mr. Hands was anybody's guess.

Another year, or maybe less
What's this I hear? Well, you can guess-
She feels neglected,
and he's suspected
of makin' whoopee

The lyrics scandalized Stede- he knew the old song, of course, but he didn't remember those lyrics. And to sing it at the wedding reception? A quick glance over at the head table where the bride and groom sat, though, assured him that the bawdy insinuations were welcome. Anne was clinging to her new husband, and they both looked happier there- pregnant, disowned, in a dive bar, under crepe paper streamers- than Stede and Mary had ever looked at their extravagantly catered reception. 

Five weeks ago, Stede would have wondered how two people could look so happy and hopeful when the whole world was against them. He didn't have to wonder any more. They were happy because they were in love.

She sits alone 'most every night
He doesn't phone, he doesn't write
He says he's busy
But he's with Izzy-
They're makin' whoopee

This time, Stede laughed along with the crowd. He laughed even louder when Jack cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted "You wish!" back to the woman singing on stage. Back to Izzy Hands.

"Extraordinary!" Stede said, leaning in close to Ed, to be heard over the music. Then, on wild impulse, he planted a kiss on Ed's cheek, right there in the middle of the crowd.

Startled, Ed turned to face him, and their noses brushed against each other. "Well, hello there, stranger," Ed smiled. "How are you feeling?"

"Happy," Stede told him, and kissed him again.

+++

Izzy's performance ended to rapturous applause and catcalls. Ed even pulled a carnation out of its vase and moved to toss it onstage, but John Feeney stayed his arm. "Don't you dare," he cautioned, his soft voice suddenly sharp. Chastened, Ed handed the flower over, and John primly returned it to the centerpiece.

For once, Stede could recognize the songs the Vice-Roys played at Benji’s Barroom, and he couldn’t help tapping his toes along while other guests paired up and joined Anne and Jack on the dance floor.

It was enchanting, almost hypnotic, to watch the space fill up with bodies. It seemed the newlyweds kept company with all sorts of people, and here at Benji’s Barroom, they moved with a freedom that Stede wouldn’t have dared imagined, not all that long ago.

At the table next to theirs, a woman dragged a man out to the dance floor, laughing at her own eagerness. They settled in next to two women who held each other close and whispered back and forth while they swayed. All around them, men flirted and danced with one another. 

Stede was reminded of his first visit to Benji's, back on the fourth of July. Only three weeks ago, or maybe a lifetime. It wasn't the dancing himself that had shocked him, even then- it was how natural two men could look dancing together that had shaken Stede to his core. 

Those thoughts were at the front of his mind when Ed nudged Stede’s shoulder with his own.

“Dance with me?”

So it was easy to answer with a smile, and he slipped his hand into Ed’s and let him lead them out to the dance floor.

Someday, when I'm awfully low
When the world is cold
I will feel a glow just thinking of you
And the way you look tonight

Out on the dance floor, they fumbled a little and laughed when they both moved their left arms into the same position. Ed made a face and switched his stance, letting his right hand come to rest in Stede’s, moving the other to his shoulder, then all at once they were dancing, and it felt more natural than dancing ever had before. 

It was yet another way that the two of them just fit together. 

Stede barely thought about the motion before he snaked an arm around Ed’s waist- admiring the fine fabric of his suit jacket, of course- and pulled him in closer, so they were almost dancing cheek to cheek.

If Stede had leaned back just then, the love he would've seen in Ed Teach’s eyes could have stolen the breath out of his chest. He couldn't see it, but he felt it when Ed adjusted slightly and nuzzled their faces together. They were almost exactly the same height, so dancing almost cheek to cheek became properly, actually cheek to cheek.

Ed must've shaved just before the ceremony, because there was no stubble against Stede’s cheek, just a soft, solid warmth. It was more intimate than a kiss, almost- Ed in his arms, both moving to the same music.

A hot burst of air unexpectedly tickled Stede’s ear when Ed started singing along with the music.

“That laugh that wrinkles your nose
Touches my foolish heart”

“Ed!” he laughed at the warbled lyric and glanced around their vicinity, mortified. But nobody was watching or judging them- at least, nobody that Stede could see. Satisfied, he skillfully turned them around the dance floor, keeping Ed as close to him as proprietary would allow. 

He even pitched his own voice in with Ed's, and they sang the final lines softly into one another's ears.

Won’t you please arrange it?
‘Cause I love you
Just the way you look tonight

The song ended, but Stede and Ed were still basking in a glow of their own making when they were interrupted by the insistent sound of a deliberately cleared throat.

Izzy Hands- or was it Isabella Ferdinand?- rested a gloved hand on a cocked hip and raised an eyebrow. He was still wearing the slinky dress from his performance. His wig was still piled high, and this close up, his makeup was clearly pancaked on, exposing the secrets of its artful illusion. But the flirtatious, almost seductive quality was missing, and what was left was pure Izzy Hands.

“Mind if I cut in?” he asked, looking between Ed and Stede expectantly.

Stede's eyes met Ed's. “D’you mind, sweetheart?” Ed asked softly.

“I wasn’t asking you.” Izzy clarified. “Cut out- I want to take the blond for a spin.”

Ed’s brow furrowed. “What are you playing at, Iz?”, he asked, at the exact same moment that Stede shrugged and said-

“I can’t see why not,” while desperately wishing he could think of a good reason not to.

“You’re sure?” Ed checked, surprised. Stede nodded and gave what he hoped was a game smile.

Izzy jerked his chin back toward the tables. “He's sure. Now scram, kid.”

Tentatively, Ed let his hands drop from Stede’s shoulders and stepped back. “Play nice, you two,” he cautioned one last time, and slipped away as a new song began. Izzy made an unladylike gesture when Ed took a last, worried look over his shoulder, and he then turned his attention to Stede.

Dancing with Izzy Hands felt bizarrely familiar. Even in his sequined pumps, he wasn't much taller than Mary, or any other woman Stede had danced with at cotillions or fundraising balls. And unlike with Ed, there was no question as to who would lead the dance. When he was in his gown and wig, at least, Izzy was a graceful follower.

They moved well together, and for a moment, Stede began to hope that their dance was maybe just that- a dance.

Then, of course, Izzy spoke.

“You’re a good dancer, I’ll give you that,” he began, and Stede breathed a sigh of relief. “But you’re an idiot.”

To his credit, Stede only sputtered a little. "I'm sorry?"

"I said you're a fuckin' idiot." Izzy repeated,  and smoothly followed Stede in a quarter-turn on the dance floor.  

“Well, thank you very much,” Stede responded peevishly. He refused to give Izzy Hands the satisfaction of rattling him. 

Izzy glanced over at the bar, where Ed was ordering a beer. “He’s not angry that you’re leaving Reno, you know.”

That was the last thing Stede expected him to say. “Well, I- I never thought that he was.”

“He’s angry that you never asked him to go with you to California.”

Startled, Stede stumbled hard on his own feet, but Izzy’s iron grip kept him upright. “But…” he said, just to fill space while his mind raced. A dozen rebuttals crowded his head, but the one that made it out of his mouth was, “But Ed’s not angry at me at all.”

“Like I said. Idiot.” Izzy’s response was immediate. “You don’t know him half as well as you think you do. Ed may not be angry at you , but he’s angry as hell about the whole… situation . He won’t tell you outright because he adores you, and he doesn’t want to scare you away.” 

Stede felt his heart quicken in his chest, but he forced himself to listen to the rhythm of the music. He wouldn't lose his composure tonight, and certainly not in front of Izzy. So for a few measures of music, Stede didn’t say anything. He just danced, and thought. 

Of course Ed wouldn't leave town. Moving away from his whole world- just for Stede? It was one thing for Ed to want to keep his lover in his life, here in Reno. It was quite another for him to- but surely, he wouldn't- would he?

It was clear that Stede needed to say something . “Ed’s whole life is here. His family, his friends." He hoped in vain that Izzy would reassure him, or at least respond, but the man seemed content to let Stede suffer. "Do you think he would go with me? If- if I asked him?"

Izzy scowled. “How the hell could I say? All I know is, if you don’t ask the man, you’ll never know, either.”

Stede narrowly avoided stepping on Izzy’s sequined pump. “But Ed loves Reno.”

“Reno loves Ed, maybe. Ed loves feeling needed. That's why he's still at the ranch with Herbert.” Izzy pursed his lips, glossy with scarlet lipstick. “That’s why he’s always here with me. He thinks he owes Herbert something for loving his mother, and he thinks he owes me something, for…” he shrugged a shoulder, unable or unwilling to finish the thought. 

They danced in silence, long enough that Stede couldn’t be accused of interrupting. “You don’t even like me, so what is this? Surely you don't want Ed to leave Reno."

“What I want," Izzy said, "is for Ed to be happy. I want him to at least have a shot at it. Not doing what makes his stepfather happy, or me, or you, for that matter. Just Ed."

"And what makes Ed happy?"

Izzy looked like he was grinding his teeth. When he spoke, it was grudgingly, but it was honest. "These past few weeks, Ed has seemed more alive than he has in ages. Years. Maybe ever. There's no accounting for taste, I guess, but it looks to me that what makes Ed happy is… you."

Music swelled. Their song was coming to an end.

Something in Izzy's expression softened for half a second, and Stede thought he understood. “Oh. You had somebody once.”

Izzy sputtered in disbelief. “Had som- You really don't pay attention at all, do you? I have somebody, you twat, and if he was here to dance with me tonight, I wouldn’t be wasting one minute of my night fixing your mess. You should be counting your fucking blessings, Bonnet. Ask him .”

Stede’s heart was pounding, and he replied without thinking. “I will.”

“Ask him soon.” It wasn’t a suggestion- it was an order. “You really love him?”

“I do,” Stede promised. “And he loves me, too.” It felt like a miracle, still.

“Yeah, I know he does,” Izzy sneered, “that much is obvious.” 

“How can you tell?” Stede was desperately curious. "I mean- how can you tell it's real?"

The music ended, and the two men stepped away from one another. Izzy sighed and shook his head, but there was no malice in his voice when he answered. “The way he looks at you. Hell, even when you’re not around. The way he’s looked since you came to town. It’s like you-” he shifted his jaw. “It’s like you reached into his chest and you turned on the lights.”

+++

"I'm almost afraid to ask," Ed said into Stede's ear when he slid into his seat back at the table. There was a fresh whisky soda waiting for him there, sitting next to Ed's half-drunk bottle of beer. Condensation from both drinks dripped down into their paper-lace doilies, leaving the bridal decorations soggy and flimsy.

A few seconds too late, Stede realized that he had missed a question. He murmured apologetically and reached for the pack of cigarettes in front of Ed. "I'm sorry, say that again?"

Ed fished his lighter out of his pocket and raised it, an offer. Stede nodded and let the other man light his cigarette. Even a small gesture like that- being tended to, cared for- made Stede's heart flutter, as surely as the rush of nicotine did. Something Ed said the prior week rang in Stede's ears.

I could take real good care of you here, Ed had offered, if you wanted me to.

Stede didn't want to be somebody who needed to be taken care of. He wasn't somebody who needed to be taken care of. Not anymore. But maybe- maybe in a new city, somewhere new to both of them- maybe Stede and Ed could learn how to take care of each other. 

Was it possible? Could the happiness that he had found in Reno survive out in the world?

It wouldn't be easy, Stede knew. Their relationship would have to remain a secret to the world, certainly to his employers at Pomona College, but they could find a way. Who knew- maybe there were even bars like Benji's in California, where they could come to dance and meet like-minded friends.

The house that Stede had leased in Claremont had a few bedrooms, and why shouldn't he have a roommate? It wasn't at all unusual for unmarried professors to share housing with other academics, or artists, or- well! Stede flushed at a realization, the latest in a long line of revelations that just under the surface of so-called polite society, there were people like that everywhere. People like Stede.

"Jesus," Ed swore, "what the hell did Iz say to you? You're shellshocked." He scanned the room for the culprit. "All right, then, if he thinks I won't throttle him because he's in lipstick and a wig, he's got another-"

"Edward -" Stede cupped Ed's face gently and turned it to face him. "It's all right. I'm all right. I promise."

Ed's expression relaxed a little, but his eyes still searched Stede's face. "Yeah?"

"Yes, darling." The pet name soothed the last of the worry from Ed's face, and Stede traced the line of that strong jaw with his thumb. "Now, I wouldn't mind another dance with you- what do you say?"

This time, Stede pulled Ed out onto the crowded dance floor, their drinks long forgotten on the table.

+++

Stede's feet hurt from all the dancing. His face hurt from all the laughter. But he wouldn't trade the joy of the last few hours for all the comfort in the world. 

The Vice-Roys ended their set with a beautiful rendition of It Had to be You , but when Jack and Anne didn't want to stop dancing, Izzy grumbled and asked Fang to plug the jukebox back in. So the newlyweds clung to each other and barely swayed while the few remaining guests straggled out the back door in pairs or groups.

Stede was curled under Ed's arm in the corner of a booth, half-listening to Frenchie's outlandish rambling about what was going on in some nearby government area. He could tell that Ed was distracted as well, and neither of them put up much of a fuss when John Feeney came by and dropped a porkpie hat onto Frenchie's head.

"Time to get this one home, m'dears," he smiled down at them and gently pulled Frenchie to his feet. Ed and Stede said their goodbyes to the departing couple, but made no move to follow.

Stede could feel Ed's chest rise and fall when he sighed. "Don't want this night to end," he mumbled into the crown of Stede's curls.

It wasn't Stede's intention to speak. He meant to squeeze Ed's knee in silent agreement, but his tongue, loosened with whisky and emotion, had other plans.

"What if it didn't have to end?"

Ed misunderstood. "Mmm, you want to go for a drive?" he asked.

 It was a tempting offer- to go parking somewhere and strip that fine suit off of Ed, unwrap him like a gift and taste the sweat on his skin, sweat earned from a long night of dancing in Stede's arms- but, no. Now that the possibility was in Stede's mind, waiting even another minute would be torture. He had to know.

"No. I mean, what if this didn't have to end? You and me?" He shifted in the booth to face him, and their knees pressed together. Ed's face betrayed his emotions, shifting as unpredictably as clouds before a storm. Confusion, hurt, and then- hope.

"What-" Ed took a breath. "What does that mean? How-" He averted his eyes and pulled his arm away from Stede's shoulders. "You're leaving, mate. You're leaving on Tuesday."

"I am." Stede agreed, and he reached for Ed's hands, held them both in his. "But. If I asked you to come to California with me- if, if I wanted you to come with me…" His burst of confidence was receding already, he could feel it eking away, but he had to finish what he started. "Look at me, darling, please."

Maybe he shouldn't have asked Ed to look at him, because when their eyes met, Stede was too overwhelmed to continue. He chuckled self-consciously and squeezed Ed's hands, but no words came out.

It was up to Ed to break the silence, in the end. "What if, Stede?" His voice was rough with emotion. "What if you did ask me?"

There must have been some courage deep in Stede, just enough to give him the strength to take a breath and ask for exactly what he wanted. "Come with me to California. We could make a new life together, the two of us. A good life. That's- this is me asking. Please , Ed. Come with me."

Ed released his breath in a shudder. He let his hands slip out from between Stede's, and he wrung them together in his lap. 

"You mean it?"

"I mean it." 

"You're not just-"

"I'm not just anything, Edward. Not when it comes to you."

For a moment, Ed just looked at him in wonder. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but instead, he cleared his throat. 

And then, without a word, he slipped out of the booth and walked away.

Stede's heart went into a tailspin as he watched Ed march in double-time away from their shadowy booth and across the abandoned dance floor. Then his brain joined his heart, plummeting into confusion, when Ed shouldered open the door to the mens' room and stepped inside.

Was he- did he just need to-? Stede glanced around the bar, hoping for improbable guidance from somebody, but the only people in sight were the pianist from the Vice-Roys and the shaggy-haired young bartender, and they very clearly only had eyes for one another.

One minute ticked by on Stede’s watch, and Ed didn't emerge from the mens’ room. Reluctantly, Stede had to accept the possibility that Ed might’ve fled from him. That Ed was hiding from him.

The polite thing, he knew, was to leave Ed be. A gentleman wouldn't follow somebody into the restroom. Then again- this was no time for courtesy.

He followed.

Blessedly, the restroom was empty except for Ed, who was pacing on the tiled floor. When Stede entered, Ed turned to face him, startled.

"Shit- sorry-", he muttered, and turned his back on Stede. However, since that left him facing the bathroom mirror, it did very little to hide the state of his face.

Stede's heart broke, just a little, at the sight of Ed's tear-streaked cheeks. And it broke a little more, to see Ed rub at his red eyes with his fists. He should leave, he knew. He should give Ed his privacy, give him the opportunity to regain his composure. But his feet moved more quickly than his brain did, and before he knew what he was doing, he was standing behind Ed, turning him around.

"Sorry," Ed repeated dully as his hands landed on Stede's shoulders, limp and loose. "God. I don't know why I'm- I don't usually cry like this."

"No, of course not," Stede soothed as he pulled out his handkerchief. "But it's all right."

Ed went tense. "You don't have to do that."

"I know I don't. But- will you let me?"

When Ed sniffed and nodded, Stede brought the handkerchief to his lover’s face and dried his tears. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, scared to death to say the wrong thing, but even less inclined to leave any silence between them. "I'm sorry if-" he swallowed, unsure, "if I upset you. Asking about California."

Ed reached up and stilled Stede’s hand. "Sorry? For asking me? Nah, mate, that's-” he clutched Stede’s hand tighter and pressed it against his own chest, damp hanky and all. “That’s the best damned question anybody’s ever asked me.”

“Oh.” Stede barely had it in him to smile, he was so overwhelmed. “I thought- because you left, I thought-”

Even in the echoing tiled cavern of a bathroom, it was hard to hear Ed’s next muttered words. “Yeah. Wasn’t expecting it, is all. Didn’t want to fuckin’ cry in front of you.”

Stede’s heart was going to pound right out of his ribcage, if he wasn’t careful. “So… I’m sorry, I don’t want to presume. But I take it, that’s not a no, then?”

A hollow laugh shook out of Ed. “No, sweetheart,” he said. “That’s not a no.” 

And then, what could Stede do but pull Ed into a tight embrace? They wrapped their arms around each other, there in the empty men’s room, close enough that any lingering tears on Ed’s cheeks- or any fresh ones on Stede’s- couldn’t be seen. That’s where they stayed for somewhere between sixty seconds and a hundred years, just breathing and loving each other.

A thought occurred to Stede, and he tried to pull back, but Ed’s grip kept him close by. So he settled back in and asked, cautiously, hopefully- “Sorry, but is that a yes, then? You’ll come?”

He felt Ed bury his face into his hair and inhale. "Mmhmm, I think so." 

This time Stede actually did pull back, just far enough to grip Ed’s face between both of his hands. He couldn’t believe it yet, he needed to hear it again. “ Yes? ”

Ed tried to answer, but all he got out was “Ye-” before Stede crashed their lips together. He could taste the yes in Ed’s mouth, he could feel it under his fingertips, like it was written on Ed’s movie-star handsome face. Still, he kissed him again, to make sure. And then again, just for the fun of it.

When they broke to breathe, Stede realized to his surprise that they had been moving, and had only come to a stop when Ed’s backside hit the bathroom sink counter. Ed pulled him in even closer and nipped at his ear. "Ask me again."

Stede crowded in on him and obliged. "Come with me to California."

"You want me there with you?" The confidence that Ed always projected didn’t falter, exactly, but Stede knew him well enough by now to see what he needed.

"I want you everywhere," Stede responded, and he let his hands roam lower, to the small of Ed’s back, then lower still. He repeated himself; "Yes, Edward. I want you with me. I want you next to me." 

When Ed smiled, it reminded Stede of the sun rising over Lake Tahoe. A new day beginning. "Then that's where I'll be."

They kissed again, this time with a fresh urgency. Or so Stede thought, until Ed pushed him away again. "What am I gonna do about Queenie?"

"The Chevy? Bring her. Or-” Stede paused. “Maybe Lucius could drive her out in August."

Ed looked as scandalized as Stede had ever seen him. "What!?"

"I was thinking of asking him if he'd like to be my assistant in the fall. At the college. Since he is moving to Los Angeles anyway."

"Wait." Stede froze his hands on Ed's belt buckle and watched him think. "Yeah. That's a pretty good idea, man."

"I thought so."

“I mean the assistant bit. He’s not driving my truck out there.”

Stede let out a huff of exasperation. “That’s fine, Ed. Do you think we can talk about that later?” He rolled his hips against Ed’s, unafraid of seeming needy or overeager.

“Yeah, yeah, later. Need you now.” Ed agreed, and gripped Stede through his pants, smirking at what he found there. Stede shot a quick, worried glance at the door, but Ed pulled his attention back. “Nobody here but you and me,” he purred into Stede’s ear, and Stede found it easy to believe him.

He felt his fingers shaking as he fumbled with Ed's belt and fly, but he wasn't embarrassed; he didn't have room to feel embarrassed, he was too busy feeling happy and hungry and reckless. As soon as he could, Ed pushed his dress pants and underwear down to the ground, toeing off his dress shoes on the way, so he was completely bare from the waist down.

There were about five seconds where Stede considered stripping Ed of his jacket and shirt as well, but then Ed hoisted himself up on the sink counter and hooked his legs around Stede’s hips. Stede laughed in surprise and let himself be pulled in closer. After a quick fumble with Stede’s belt, his pants were pushed down just low enough to release his cock, and then he was rutting between Ed’s legs, already whimpering with the knowledge of what they were about to do.

“It won’t take much,” Ed whispered as Stede opened him up with split-slick fingers. “I want to feel you, Stede.”

“You’ll feel me,” Stede promised. “Ed-”

“Yeah,” Ed grunted when Stede lined himself up, “yeah, do it.”

Their bodies shifted again, and when Stede moved to brace an arm against the mirror behind Ed, he caught a glimpse of his own reflection. His skin was bright with sweat, red-blonde hair pulled askew by two big hands, and the look on his face was exactly the same look that he saw on Ed’s face. He looked free. 

They both looked free.

Nothing could hold Stede back from what he wanted now- and he wanted Ed. Perhaps more than he had ever wanted anything. 

All these years, Stede had believed that he wasn't made for love, but now that he was holding love in his arms he couldn't imagine being made for anything else. 

And he was going to keep him. Ed was coming with him. The thought drove Stede’s thrusts, rhythmic and hard, harder than he had let himself love Ed before. 

Stede let himself want everything. He wanted to fill Ed up so full there wasn’t room for anything else. He wanted to be sitting where Ed was now, wrapping his own legs around Ed, being filled, being fucked. That idea hit Stede like a diesel train, and then he was moving even faster, harder, wrapping one hand around to the swell of Ed's ass to drag him in closer and resting the other hand at the base of Ed’s throat, on the smooth red stone of that beautiful bolo tie.

Stede wanted forever. He wanted this, forever, just the two of them crashing against each other like waves on rocks, until there was nothing left of them but their smiles. He could have it, too. 

For once, Stede could have exactly what he wanted. 

Ed was falling apart around him. “Just like that,” he grunted, almost too quiet to hear over the filthy sounds of their bodies slamming together.  “Stede- Stede, you’ve got it, unh- just like that, God , Stede.” 

Stede couldn’t speak. All he could do was pant into Ed's ear and keep moving. 

"You gonna come?" Ed asked, delirious. "You gonna come for me, sweetheart?"

Stede's body answered, since his voice couldn't. He shuddered into Ed, wave after wave of sensation pouring out of him as his climax hit him. Ed keened and squeezed his legs tighter around Stede’s hips, locking them together, pushing Stede in as deep as he could go. 

Even after he was finished, Stede wasn’t satisfied. He couldn't wait or worry about mess, he just dropped to his knees on the grimy bathroom floor and took Ed in his mouth. It only took a minute or two for Ed to find his release, and Stede hummed happily as he swallowed him down. 

+++

"I can't believe we just did that." Stede glanced guiltily at the door as he fussed over his hair. He wasn't presentable , exactly, but it would have to do. 

"Yeah," Ed agreed. "It was worth it, though."

Stede's eyebrows drew together. "Worth it? Worth what?"

Ed rolled his eyes, but not at Stede. "You'd better let me leave first," he said, and made a final adjustment in the mirror before kissing Stede on the cheek. "See you out there." 

As soon as Ed stepped out to leave the bathroom, Stede heard the furious voice of Izzy Hands pour through the open door, as if from on high. He caught "This is your last fucking warning, Edward," before the closed door mercifully muffled the tirade.

Stede took one last look in the mirror, more to stall for time than anything else. He smiled at his reflection. He might as well give Ed another minute out in the line of fire before joining him. 

After all, they had all the time in the world now.

Chapter Text

There wasn't a street in Reno, Nevada that Ed didn't know. He'd probably driven down most of them, too- from Virginia Street, flanked by all of those colorful billboards and massive, electric signs, to the spiderweb of dusty trails that connected the trailer parks and the ranches to the city proper. 

After the war, he watched as one small street after another got paved and expanded. He looked from his truck window at the sidewalks teeming with people. People who were only staying in Reno long enough to change their lives. Maybe that change would come in the form of a divorce, maybe a wedding. Maybe it would be a big payout at the casino, maybe a loss.

Lives changed around Ed every day, but to him, the streets always looked the same. 

But now, as he meandered the Chevy through the late Friday night traffic, everything looked new. The lights of downtown grew fainter in his rearview mirror as he took the turn that would lead him-  lead them- out of the city, to the lake. The same street signs as ever pointed the way, but now they held a promise of a new beginning. 

Stede asked Ed to move to California with him.

Ed said yes.

After over twenty years of calling it home, Ed was leaving Reno behind. It would always be the city Ed grew up in, of course, but home - home was sitting a few feet to Ed's right. Home was humming along to a song he didn't know, trusting Ed to take him safe and sound to somewhere they could be happy together.

Tonight, that place was the banks of Lake Tahoe. Next week, that would be California. After that- who knew? Who cared? As long as Stede was next to Ed, they'd be home.

Once again, Ed parked out amid the trees, but this time, the two men simply held each other and looked at the stars. They were too worn-out for anything else. Stede sat with his back against the window of the cab again, and Ed sat between his legs, resting against the swell of Stede’s broad chest so they were both facing the water. 

Ed could count on one hand the number of times he'd had this before Stede- being held, being close to somebody without leading to sex. Stede was warm and steady against Ed's back, his hands were gentle against the sensitive skin on Ed's wrists. 

Back in that blue hotel room, where they held each other for the first time, Stede had never truly let himself relax. Ed could feel the tension just under Stede’s skin the whole time- fear, yes, but something else, too. Even the last time they were at the lake together, making love in the sunrise, there was a barrier there. 

But tonight, Stede melted against Ed's back, as if he was only staying upright enough to give Ed a soft place to lean. Thinking about how far Stede had come, in such a short time, his heart surged with pride and gratitude.

When they spoke, it was vague ideas about California. Stede told Ed about the house he was leasing and his work schedule, and Ed talked about taking a job as a photographer, maybe for a newspaper or a magazine. Sure, Stede had plenty of money, but Ed insisted that he was going to pay his square share.

"Oh, I'm not worried about you," Stede chuckled. "You're so talented, you can do anything."

He was right. Ed could do anything.

“And we’ll have dinner parties!” Stede declared, his mind leaping over topics in excitement. “I always wanted to learn how to cook.”

Ed cringed at the mental image of Stede in the kitchen.“Smarter to start with dinners for two,” he said. “Besides, can you imagine me making small talk with your academic set?” 

“I'll tell you what I can imagine,” Stede said softly as he idly traced patterns into Ed’s shoulders with his fingertips. “Waking up in your arms. Trying new things with you. Watching you go gray.”

A rush of tender emotion flooded Ed’s chest, and rather than let it sweep him away, he slapped Stede’s forearm in mock offense. ”Hey, now! Maybe you'll go gray first.”

But Stede wasn’t diverted. He toyed with the hair at the nape of Ed’s neck and kept his voice soft and sweet. “I very much doubt it. Besides, I think you'll look distinguished, all salt and pepper.” 

Ed chuckled. “Yeah, maybe. My mom was like that at the end- silver and black. Looked right on her.” That brought an unexpected pang to his chest. All the best memories of his mother, they were right here in Nevada. Reno was where they got to be a family, a real family, away from all the trouble they’d had before. When he left Reno, would those memories feel more distant?

As if he could read Ed’s mind- and hell, sometimes it felt like he could- Stede squeezed his arm to reassure him. “What will you tell your family?”

Ed considered. "Dunno if I have to tell them anything. I could always disappear in the middle of the night. Like I never was."

He could feel every muscle in Stede’s body object to that idea. "Absolutely not, Edward Teach. I'll not be party to a… kidnapping!"

Ed laughed and twisted his neck around to kiss Stede, just a placating peck on the corner of his lips. "Nah. I'll tell them the truth. Part of the truth, anyhow: I'm ready for a fresh start, and California seems attractive. You offered to let me stay with you, and I accepted. Anything else past that…” he took a breath. “Well, they can think what they want. It’s my life, isn't it?”

“You don’t think your stepfather will be angry that you’re leaving?”

“Nah. I think he always wanted me to go out and see the world, him and my mom both. And Walter will be out of high school soon enough, he already knows the ranch inside and out. They'll be fine. It's Izzy I'm more scared to tell. He's been through a lot, and he, uh, he doesn't take change very well.

Stede made a gentle snort then, like he was laughing at a private joke. "I think he might take it better than you think, Edward."

"What? Why?"

"Oh, I don't know. I just mean, people surprise you all the time."

Ed shifted around in the truck bed until he was facing Stede properly. “We're doing this? I mean, really doing this?”

"Yes, my love." Stede’s eyes were shining.

A shiver ran down Ed’s back. “Say that again.”

“Edward, my love.” Stede repeated, and brought his hand to Ed’s jaw. “Edward, my one and only.” 

Their kiss was gentle and warm, and when their lips parted, they were both smiling. “I’ll tell them tomorrow. I want- I want everybody to know.” If he could, he would shout it from the rooftops. Stede Bonnet wants me . He loves me. He asked me to come with him. But he settled for nudging Stede’s nose with his own. “Hey- we’re gonna be by the Pacific Ocean again, you and me. Isn’t that funny?”

Of course Stede just had to correct him. “Claremont isn’t right on the coast, you know- we won’t exactly be able to smell the salt.”

“Yeah, still,” Ed was too happy to be annoyed. “You ever think about how mixed-up it is that we were were out there on those islands together, when we were kids, but we had to come all the way out to this desert to find each other?”

"Mmm," Stede agreed, and kissed him again. "But look at us now."

+++

Even though they were out at the lake until almost two in the morning, Ed woke up bright and early for his breakfast with Stede. He rushed through his morning routine, slipping off his pajamas and throwing on clothes with the sort of impatience usually reserved for kids on Christmas morning. 

As he ran pomade through his hair, he imagined stepping downstairs to discover that it had all been a fabulous dream. Not just last night, but the whole summer. 

It wasn't that he didn't trust Stede. No, there was no mistaking the shine in his eyes, the catch in his sweet voice when he told Ed how much he wanted him there in California. It was only- the whole thing was just too good to be true. 

People liked Ed, sure. He was reliable, good with his hands, he knew the right things to say and how to say them. And people wanted Ed. He knew what it was like to have hungry eyes on him. And he'd had plenty of fun with it, through the years. He knew how to make a man feel like the luckiest guy in the world, how to leave them begging for more.

But the kind of more those guys wanted was just more of the same. Nobody had ever wanted more of Ed than meets the eye- the hidden parts, the soft parts. Until Stede came to town, with his odd manners and wild enthusiasm, and drew all of those parts out of Ed like he was choosing his favorite flavors from a box of chocolates.

He'd always thought that love like that wasn't meant for guys like him. And then Stede asked him to come to California. So, yeah, there was a small part of him that worried that he'd dreamed it all up. Maybe he played one too many love songs in the DJ booth and got carried away on the radio waves.

But when he stepped into the kitchen, there was Stede, real as can be. He looked a little worse for wear, thanks to four hours of sleep- or less, Ed figured, when he remembered Stede’s ridiculous pre-bed skincare routine. He rubbed sleep from his eyes as he pulled his jar of marmalade down from the top shelf of the pantry.

"Morning, Doctor Bonnet." Ed rumbled from the doorway.

Stede turned with a smile. "It's just Stede." 

"So informal?"

"Yes, well," Stede answered, "we've known each other for quite some time now, haven't we?" 

Ed's chest fluttered, his earlier apprehension forgotten. "Almost six weeks, yeah."

He watched as Stede's eyes dropped to Ed's lips. He whispered, "Almost."

There was one wayward curl on the side of Stede's head, and Ed wanted to tuck it back into place. He wanted to drop a kiss on Stede’s temple when he walked past to pour himself a cup of coffee.

But they just had to play it safe a little longer. So, in the exposed kitchen at Orange Sky Ranch, Ed and Stede picked over the crossword puzzle together and made innocuous conversation, just like they did in the early weeks, when the love of Ed's life was still just a secret, hopeless crush. 

As the side of Ed's foot brushed against Stede's toe, he imagined a long parade of mornings like this one, unhurried and affectionate, waiting for them in California. On Sundays, he'd slip on one of Stede's robes at first light and step outside for the newspaper. He'd bring it to Stede in bed, along with a cup of tea. They could bicker over word choices with their hair still mussed from sleep.

Would Stede take tea in bed, Ed wondered, or would something like that offend his delicate sensibilities? Despite their early-morning routine at the ranch, he didn't really know Stede's personal habits. What if he snored like a locomotive? Supposing he ground his teeth? He might even be a bed hog, sprawling onto Ed's side of the bed, drooling onto his pillow. There was so much Ed didn't know.

"Relax!"

Ed blinked. Had he been so obvious? "Yeah, sorry, mate. I just…" he shrugged, unable to find the right words to express his thoughts. 

Stede just nodded down at the crossword, unaware of Ed’s struggle. "Relax- that's 17 Down, 'loosen'? With the X from axle."

With a wry chuckle, Ed penciled in the letters. No use borrowing trouble from tomorrow, as his mother used to say. Of course there would be surprises ahead, and plenty of them. They were starting a new life. 

But in this life, there was always work to do. Ed was thumbing through his appointment book as soon as they finished the crossword, taking stock of the day ahead. There was a new divorcee arriving on the westbound 9:20 train. He had to get the bedroom ready first. Pickup and check-in would take an hour, and then there were errands that needed running. He wouldn't be able to talk to Herb until after supper.

"Should I be there when you talk to him?" Stede asked after Ed laid out the plan. It was a sweet offer, and a brave one, but Ed shook his head.

"Nah. I reckon this is between me and him." 

An encouraging smile brightened Stede's face. "You'll be all right, Ed."

He ran his thumb over the handle of his coffee cup, wishing like hell he could hold Stede’s hand, and dropped his voice so nobody could overhear. "Yeah, I know. It'll be good. I know some guys- reliable guys- who are gonna be looking for work in the fall. I figure I'll-"

The feeling of Stede’s hand on his stopped him in his tracks. Stede pulled back after only a second, mindful of where they were, but his eyes stayed fixed on Ed’s. "I meant you and Herb. He truly cares about you. Even I can see that."

"Sure," Ed agreed quickly, eager to change the subject. Then he sighed. "No, you're right. He's always been a- he's a good guy." 

The clock above the oven struck seven. It really was time for Ed to get to work; he wasn't just ducking the uncomfortable conversation. 

"I'll see you tonight?" Stede asked, "At supper?" 

"You know it," Ed said, and let his hand brush Stede’s shoulder as he left the room.

The westbound 9:20 train was late. That wasn't the most unusual thing in the world - crossing over the Rockies had its challenges, or so Ed had heard, despite all the modern marvels of the day. But it was frustrating, particularly when the hot Nevada sun bore down relentlessly on the asphalt of the station lot.

Ed took refuge from the sun in a thin strip of shade cast by old wooden post. He fished a cigarette out of his crumpled pack and lit it was he waited for Nate, the station master, to come back with his promised update.

Nate had run the Amtrak station in Reno, Nevada for as long as Ed could remember. He was an extremely eccentric man- “a hat without a head", Herb had once called him. Rumor was, he survived a mortar to his skull in World War One and had been peculiar ever since, but Ed didn't believe it- he could never quite get a bead on the station master's age, but he couldn't be over sixty. But eccentric or not, nobody knew trains as well as Nate Buttons. 

"He'll be another thirty minutes yet," Nate reported, "a freight car fell out of sorts back in Elko County, but he's a tough old fellow. He's chugging along just as fast as he can."

Ed glanced at his watch. It was already half past nine. "Damn," he swore under his breath. Nate frowned at the outburst, and Ed felt strangely like he had offended all of traindom. He gave an apologetic smile. "Just a busy day, is all. Think I'll go grab a cup of coffee and a new pack of smokes- need anything?"

Nate shook his head. "I have everything I need right here." he said cryptically. "Come back at ten, Karl will deliver your man for you."

Confused but unfazed, Ed nodded. "And Karl's the…"

"Karl's the train, aye."

+++

Nate was right, of course, about Karl. The train pulled up just as the clock struck ten, and soon Ed was strapping down a load of luggage in the back of the Chevy. He was just tying the last knot when a man spoke.

"Need a hand with that?"

Surprise and curiosity crossed Ed's face momentarily when he turned to find his new passenger waiting behind him. He wasn't the typical guest at Orange Sky Ranch. For one thing, he wasn't white, which was rare enough even without his unusual expression. He looked… friendly. And he offered to help- Ed couldn't remember the last time a guest had done anything but look down his nose at 'the help'. Other than Stede, of course.

"Nah, we're all squared up here," he answered, and offered his hand to the new guest. "I'm Ed."

"Abshir."

+++

"I take it you're not from Reno," Abshir said as the Chevy carried them toward the ranch, "but I can't place your accent."

Ed laughed. "Accent's from New Zealand- out in the Pacific. But I've been in Reno since I was a little squirt. You?"

Abshir waved his hand vaguely. "On the Indian Ocean- a city called Mogadishu. But I hardly remember it. We came to New York when I was very young."

Understanding passed between the two men, the kind of camaraderie that could only be shared by people who had been outsiders their whole lives. At a red light, Ed fished his new pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and offered one to Abshir. They made friendly conversation on the drive out to the ranch- Abshir had been a doorman until came into an unexpected sum of money (he gave no details and Ed would never ask), and the new wealth, as it so often did, soured his marriage.

"And now I'm here," he sighed, "because the girl I thought I'd love forever has become a stranger to me." 

Ed gave a hum of commiseration. "That's a bad break. But hey, chin up. You've got a new start ahead of you- that's one of the best things a guy can get in this world."

"Tell me, Edward, are you always this optimistic?" Abshir's brows raised, then furrowed. "No, you're not. I can tell." He pointed at Ed with his cigarette and made his accusation. "You're in love. New love."

"Guilty as charged," Ed admitted with a crooked grin, and he turned the truck down the long gravel road that led to the ranch. The confession- even to this stranger- felt incredible, like taking off your work boots at the end of a long day. 

Gravel crunched under the wheels of the Chevy as they came to a stop. Ed pointed Abshir toward the main house, and they shook hands again.

"A pleasure to meet you." Ed said, and he meant it.

Abshir nodded. "Likewise, my friend. May your love story have a happier ending than mine."

+++

The rest of the day passed in a blur of driving, shopping, loading, unloading, driving. It was the kind of work Ed was used to. He'd had years and years of days just like this one, broken up with nights at the radio station, or raising hell with Jack, or playing grabass with some guy, keeping his eyes peeled for flashing lights the whole time.

It wasn't a bad life. A whole lot of folks had it a whole lot worse than Ed. He always had his mom, until he didn't. His half-brother, too. He watched Walt grow up fearless, he watched his mom raise her second son without needing to protect him from a broken, angry man. Ed was never jealous of that. How could he be, when he saw the way the deep lines on his mother's face relaxed more and more every year?

Herb kept a photograph of Ed's mom on the mantle in the sitting room, in a silver frame for everybody to see. It had been there for six years, since she passed. Ed reckoned that it would still be there when he was long gone. That thought calmed his nerves, just a little, when he stood outside the door to Herb's suite after dinner. He could hear the clicking of an adding machine on the other side.

He knocked. "Herb? It's Ed." he winced a little at how thin his voice sounded.

The clicking stopped. "It's open."

Ed stepped into the suite- the space he still thought of as Mom and Herb's room, the last six years be damned- to find his stepfather sitting at his little table, papers in neat stacks next to the adding machine. 

"Don't stand around," Herb said, like Ed knew he would. "Sit."

The chair scraped on the floor when Ed pulled it out, and he mumbled an apology as he took his seat. "Herb. I think we, uh- we ought to have a conversation."

"You're right," Herb agreed right away, "we really ought to."

Ed blinked his surprise. "Yeah. Yeah, all right." He took a breath and remembered how good it felt to tell Abshir he was in love. He thought about Stede, sitting in that booth at Benji's and asking Ed to share his new life in California. If Stede could be brave, Ed could be brave.

He took another breath. He forgot where he was going to start. "You know- I, ah…"

"I think I should go first." Herb interrupted Ed's stammering. "The ranch got a call this morning from a law firm in Chicago. Badminton and Badminton."

No- that wasn't how this conversation was meant to go. Ed was about to… "Badminton?" He repeated weakly.

"You've heard of them?" Herb probably knew the answer just from the look on Ed's face, but he still nodded, dumbfounded. "Thought you might have. One of our boarders has their day in court coming up. Seems like these lawyers are putting together a case. Changing the terms of the divorce. They have reason to suspect some, ah, some sort of defect of character, they said. They were looking for witness testimony."

Fury whipped through Ed's veins, moving faster than caution could. "Defect of character!? Those sons of bitches, I'll-" Herb flinched, and only then did Ed realize he had leapt to his feet. He stumbled backward into his seat and spread his palms flat on the vanished wood of the table until his heart was steady again.

After a long moment, Ed spoke again. "What did you tell them?"

"Nothing. Of course."

Ed let out a ragged breath of relief. It was all right, everything would be fine.

"What could I tell them, anyhow? You know me, Edward. As long as the men at this ranch follow our rules, as long as they're discreet, I don't notice anything about them that might cause trouble." Herb was watching Ed like a hawk. "Isn't that right?"

Ed froze. The weight of what wasn't being said- or what was being said, louder than it ever had been before, pressed down on him until it was hard to do anything but stay stock still. But Herb was waiting for a response, so Ed forced a small nod.

"You're a grown man, and a hard worker. I never ask you where you go in your free time, or what you do. Or- who with."

"Herb, wait-"

"And I'm not asking now, either, because I don't think I could bear it if you lied to me. So right now, if you're thinking about lying to me, just keep your mouth shut."

Silence. Herb stood and walked across the room, to the cabinet where he kept a few choice bottles. When he came back, he placed two glasses of whisky down at the table.

"When you got kicked out of that college," Herb broke the silence, "we welcomed you right back home, didn't we? And if you'd'a been picked up in those vice raids a few years back- Jesus, Ed, you know what your mother woulda done?"

Ed winced, but didn't dare speak.

"She'd drive over to County, bail you out and take you right back home. Then she woulda made me promise never to bring it up again. That's what family meant to her. That was the best way she knew how to love you."

Feeling angry was a relief, anger was easier than whatever this was. "Don't you tell me how she loved me," he snarled, "you have no idea-"

"Edward," Herb's voice raised an iota, " I am not your enemy . If you would just listen to me-" He picked up his drink as if he was going to down it, but he stopped just shy of his lips. His chest rose and fell, and he set the glass down. "There are lawyers sniffing around here. How do you think this story ends for you?" 

Ed reached for his own drink, just to have something to hold. "No, but you- you told them that everything was fine. It's over."

"It's never going to be over , can't you get that through your head? You got off easy in Utah, and in the vice raids, and yeah, maybe this time you'll get off Scot free, too. But nobody stays lucky forever. Especially-" He took a long drink and grimaced. 

"If you wont think about yourself, think about Professor Bonnet." Ed's heart twisted, just hearing Stede's name caught up in such an ugly conversation. "You think he could keep a teaching job with a lewd conduct charge on his record? What would be waiting for him after that? You think he'd be happy hauling scrap at the ranch?"

The question stung. Herb couldn't possibly know that Stede had already made it clear that he would never be happy with a simple life in Reno. Stede wanted marble columns and big libraries and an impressive reputation. He needed his academic career in order to be happy. He wants you, too, an optimistic voice inside of Ed whispered.  You make Stede happy . 

"I don't know," Ed confessed. "But-" he faltered. He took a drink. 

Herb's expression was unreadable. "I'm not going to pretend I understand- whatever it is you have going on with the professor. No, sir, I don't understand it at all. But I'm not sitting in judgment, either. That's not my place. I just want to to have all the facts."

"About the lawyers?" 

"That's right," Herb said. "They asked me if I knew of anybody else in town who might have anything to say on the subject of Stede Bonnet. If you ask me, they sounded  mean, almost, like it was personal for them. Like they wanted to ruin a man's reputation."

Ed remembered what Stede told him about the Badminton twins, and dread gripped him. "There's nothing-" there's nothing to tell, he almost said, but he couldn't lie like that. "There's nobody who would say anything."

Herb picked up his glass again and turned it under the light of his desk lamp. "That's Reno, for you. Half this town is run on keeping folks' secrets. The rest of the country isn't quite so forgiving- but you know that, don't you?"

Shame burned on Ed's face. He had never thought about it, not once. In a new city, with nobody to vouch for him, all it would take was one rumor, one observation, and Stede would be- ruined. Because of Ed.

"What…" Ed ran a hand over his face. He looked up at Herb, expecting anger or judgment, but all he saw was worry. "Herb, what do I do?"

Herb finished his drink. "That's for you to figure out. I'm just asking you to think before you do anything. I'm asking you to be careful." He sighed. "Now, I've got work to do before going to bed. Wash these glasses out when you go, all right?"

Ed nodded and said nothing, just picked up the two glasses and stood to leave. His hand was on the doorknob when Herb spoke again.

"You're a good man, Ed."

Ed stopped in his tracks.

Herb's voice was stained. Ed didn't turn to look. "I hope you know- you're my family, and not because of your mama or your brother."

"I know that, Herb. I do."

Ed pushed the door open and left. 

As he rinsed out the whisky glasses in the sink, Ed realized that for the second time in a week, for the second time in years, he was crying.

+++

The sun was crawling higher in the sky, and Ed was still in bed.

He had never quite fallen asleep after leaving Herb's room. His mind raced all night, working through ideas, running tactics, looking for some way out of this mess he made. 

There were no right answers. Of course, he'd have to warn Stede that the Badminton brothers were investigating him, but- what if Stede panicked? What if he blamed Ed? Hell, he'd be right to blame Ed, wouldn't he? Stede never would have had anything to hide if Ed hadn't- if they hadn't-

But he did, and they did, and now Stede’s future was at risk, unless Ed could fix things.

He got so turned around that he even considered sneaking out the phone in the kitchen to call Izzy in the dead of night. Izzy, the man who had been warning Ed to be careful from the beginning.  Izzy, the man who never liked Stede to begin with. 

No, Ed already knew exactly what Izzy would say. 'Cut the man loose. Stay away from mess. For God's sake, kid, be careful for once in your life.'

The last thing Ed needed was an ‘I told you so’ from Izzy, so Ed never made the call.

Herb was right, when he said nobody stays lucky forever. If Ed's luck ran out and he burned himself, well, that's life. But if Ed's luck ran out and he burned Stede- an innocent man, who never asked for any of this- how could Ed live with himself?

In the end, he knew there was only one way to make things right for Stede. He had to let him go.

It was better this way. Without Ed around, Stede would simply be a respectable, eccentric bachelor. Harmless. Safe. And Ed would be- 

Ed would be in Reno, same as ever. Alone, like before. Like always.

+++

He couldn’t stay in his room forever. It was almost eight thirty when he finally slunk out, to shower and shave in the bathroom he shared with Walt. It was well past nine when he showed his face in the main house and headed straight to the kitchen for some much-needed coffee.

Stede wasn't at the kitchen table, but the Sunday newspaper was, folded open to a crossword puzzle that was still blank. Ed felt like a cad, imagining Stede waiting for him at the kitchen table all morning as his tea slowly went cold. 

A rushed cup of coffee helped put Ed's head on a little straighter, and then there was nothing for him to do but have the conversation he'd been dreading. He scooped up the newspaper and then headed up the creaky stairs to Stede's room. 

The door was open, and Ed stopped short at the sight of soft blond curls shining in the morning light. Stede had his back to the door, so lost in whatever he was reading that he didn’t notice that he was mumbling to himself as he read.

Ed relaxed against the doorjamb, taking in the sight like a condemned man might enjoy his last sunrise. He couldn’t help thinking of Stede’s first morning in Reno, how he was so absorbed in his book that he shrieked when he noticed another man sitting at the kitchen table, watching him. They were only strangers then. Or maybe they had never been strangers, maybe they knew each other long before they met. 

Ed shook those thoughts out of his head. He’d have plenty of time to feel sorry for himself later. Mindful this time of Stede's tightly-wound nerves, Ed rapped his knuckles against the wall softly and cleared his throat. 

Stede’s head turned at the sound, and when he saw Ed leaning in the doorway, he smiled. Faced with that smile , Ed’s favorite smile, the one that was just for him, the only thing Ed could think to say was, "Hey."

“Late night?” Stede asked, keeping his voice low, as if Ed might be hungover. The concern made his stomach twist with shame. Leave it to Stede Bonnet to worry about Ed's well-being while he was planning the best way to break his heart. 

Ed nodded. "Can I come in?" 

"Of course." Stede raised his eyebrows in surprise when Ed let the door close behind him with a small, decisive click . "Ed- shouldn't we keep the door open? Propriety, and all?"

"Nah," Ed answered. "I mean, we should be careful, but Herb and Walt are at church, and the rest of the boarders… Well, you're out of here on Tuesday."

"Well, in that case," Stede said with a little smile, "would you like to sit down?" He gestured at the foot of the bed, the only other place to sit, and Ed only hesitated for a moment before taking a seat.

“How did it go?” Stede asked as soon as Ed was sitting. “Talking with Herb, I mean?” he added, as if he could mean anything else.

Ed swallowed. “Stede.”

“He was upset,” Stede guessed. “He was- you had words, didn’t you? Oh, Ed, I’m sorry. But I’m sure anything said in anger can be apologized for in-.”

“ Stede -” Ed repeated, and ran his hands through his hair. That put a stop to Stede’s runaway train of thought, and he looked at Ed warily. It would be easier if Ed just told him quickly. “Stede. Sweetheart. Those lawyers- those Badminton brothers- they called the ranch yesterday."

The color drained from Stede's face. "You… spoke to them?"

"Herb did." Ed shifted on the bed. "They're, uh- he thinks they're cooking up some sort of smear campaign for the divorce hearing. Make you look bad."

Stede brought his hands to his chest. "Those bastards," he muttered to himself. "Did they say what - or, did Herb say-"

Ed watched him carefully for signs of imminent panic. "Breathe," he said quietly, and reached for Stede's hand. Even though he had closed and latched the door himself, he couldn't help glancing over to ensure that nobody could see.

Their hands gripped together, tight. Sure, Ed was trying to calm Stede down, but the feeling of Stede's skin- soft and smooth- grounded Ed, too, better than anything else ever had.

He let his thumb ghost over the peaks of Stede's knuckles before he spoke again. "Herb thought maybe they were fishing for evidence of a lewd conduct charge." 

Stede released a shaky breath. "And they called your stepfather."

"They called the ranch where you established legal residence. I don't think they know about you and me. And Herb didn't say anything," Ed was quick to assure Stede. "He wouldn't ever, even if-"

"Even if the Badmintons are right about me." Stede whispered.

"Listen to me," Ed leaned forward on the foot of the bed, took Stede’s second hand and clasped them both together. "Nothing bad is going to happen to you, all right? They've got nothing on you. I've been running through it all night- there's nobody they could call who-"

Stede looked up at him, his hazel eyes wide with fear. "Ed, we danced together all Friday night- how many people were there?"

"Loads of people. At a gay bar. Even if anybody there would snitch- which they wouldn't- how could they, without getting themselves in trouble?" That seemed to relax Stede's face, just a little. Ed continued, "Who else in Reno knows anything about us? Lucius, at the library?"

At that, Stede shook his head emphatically. "He'd never."

"You're damned right. See, those lawyer punks can call up anybody in Reno. They've got nothing on you." 

Still, Stede looked stricken. "Ed, they're horrible men. And they've always hated me. Even if we get through the divorce hearing unscathed, what if they keep track of me? What if they- try to cause trouble later?"

“You think they might?” Ed already suspected the answer was yes, but he had to let Stede work it out for himself.

Stede nodded. "Those two… once they had a vicious idea in their little minds, they were like a dog with a bone. Ruining lives, it was like a game for them. Even as boys. If the divorce has brought me back in their sights… I can't rule anything out." His eyes searched Ed's. "We'll have to be very careful, in California."

Ed wanted to cup Stede’s cheek and smooth the worry lines off of his brow. But it would feel wrong, cruel, even, knowing what he had to say next. 

"Stede. I'm not going to California.”

A giggle, of all things, escaped Stede’s lips. “That's not funny.”

Ed scowled. He knew that none of this was remotely funny. “I’m serious. Listen, I- I did a lot of thinking last night. A lot. And… I’m sorry. I’m not going.”

Stede’s eyebrows furrowed. “But. You know I can’t stay in Reno.”

“Yeah. I know.” He watched as the realization dawned on Stede’s face. “I’m sorry. It’s- it’s better this way.” 

“How could it be better?” Stede tensed his hands where they were still pressed between Ed's, and then pulled them away. 

Feeling those hands slip away felt like losing part of himself, and Ed crossed his arms tight against his chest, if only to stop himself from reaching out for them again. He knew he had to let them go. “Trust me. You don’t want this life. Not really.”

“What life?” Stede pressed, “Our life?”

“A secret life, Stede. Being one man out in the world, and another man behind closed doors. Look, it’s not always fun and games-”

“You think I haven’t thought of that?” Stede’s voice was sharp and precise.

“Not hard enough! People get locked up for doing what we do. If people at your college started asking questions… you deserve better than that.”

But Stede was bound and determined to argue. “I deserve you.”

Ed laughed, a bitter, dark laugh. “You deserve better,” he repeated. “I’m not a good person, Stede. I’ll hurt you.”

“You wouldn’t,” Stede said. “You couldn’t.”

“I could, Stede. I will. I’m selfish, and I get angry, and- you know how many black eyes I gave Jack over the years?” 

“Well, I’m sure Jack gave as good as he got.” Stede was right, of course. Maybe a dose of hard truth would help him see the light. 

“Sure. But I’ve done worse. I beat my old man to a pulp. Left him for dead.” He heard Stede let out a soft gasp. Good. He should be scared. “Yeah, he showed up in Reno in ‘43. No word from him for five years, then one night he was right here, at the ranch. Stinking drunk. Looking for her.”

He gripped his own arms tighter and stared down at his lap. “Herb chased him off, but I followed him. Let him walk a long ways down the road, and then I just, fuckin- I was so mad , Stede.” He was sharing more than he meant to, now, but he couldn’t stop the words. “I started yelling, telling him everything I’d been thinking for five years, y’know, and the next thing I knew, I was kneeling on him, just- beating the tar out of him.”

Stede’s response was low, almost a whisper. “That must have felt wonderful.”

Ed’s head whipped up in surprise. “What the hell, Stede?”

“I just mean…” Stede's face twisted in thought, but then he shrugged it away. “No, I meant what I said. But Ed-”

“You’re right.” The fact that Stede Bonnet had the audacity to see Ed, to understand him, even at a moment like this, was- well, it was goddamn heartbreaking, was what it was. “It made me feel swell. Best I’d felt in years. And it worked, too- I never saw the bastard again.” 

Stede had the strangest look on his face, like he was peering through fog. “You're trying to frighten me.”

"What?"

"You come in here to say you're- not coming to California," Stede's voice wavered, but he pushed through, "You tell me what a hard life we'd have together, and now you're trying to scare me away. But I’m sorry, Ed. It’s too late. I’m not frightened anymore. Not of you. Not of- this.” 

Ed let out a laugh, bitter and hoarse. After everything they'd been through, Stede Bonnet chose the worst possible time to find his courage. "Well, maybe you should be."

Stede bit his lips. "You're making a mistake. We can- I can be careful. Discreet. You said yourself, people do it all the time. Frenchie and John-"

"Frenchie's a touring musician," Ed said with as much patience as he could muster, "and John works in the mortuary. It's different- who's going to gossip about them? But Stede, if we got found out, you'd never be able to teach again."

"I’ll risk it. I’ll- I love you," Stede said, his voice breaking. "And you love me, too. I know you do."

“‘Course I do." Ed set his jaw. “That's why I can't- I can't ruin your life. You have to believe me, it's the hardest decision I've ever made."

“Don’t I get a decision?”

“You-!” Ed pulled himself back from raising his voice. He took a breath and started again. “You already made your decision. I asked you to stay in Reno, and you- are you gonna change your mind? Leave the college, stay here with me?” 

Stede had nothing to say to that. For a long time, they just sat there, facing each other but looking away, as if they were waiting for a better solution to fly in through the window.

Finally, Stede spoke. “So that’s it, then. We're- over?” 

A hollow ache filled Ed’s chest. "I guess so," he lied. He knew he'd never be over Stede, not really. “Unless- you’re not leaving until Wednesday. We don’t have to say goodbye yet.”

Stede wasn't crying. He wasn't panicking or even angry, he just looked thoroughly defeated. “I think maybe we’ve been saying goodbye since the beginning.”

Chapter Text

Monday, July 27 1959

“Are you well, Doctor Bonnet?” 

Stede’s head gave a little jerk up at the sound of his name, only to see his lawyer,  Lars Larsson staring at him expectantly from the other side of his knickknack-strewn desk. “Yes. Yes, of course,” Stede answered. “I’m just nervous. About the hearing.”

There was more to it than that, of course. Stede Bonnet was, simply put, a wreck. In the twenty-four hours and change since Ed had ended things between them, Stede had done nothing but smoke cigarettes, stare out the window, and feel sorry for himself. Even a long soak in a hot bath had left him cold. 

At least he was successfully avoiding Ed, so far. There would be no ‘making the most of the time they had’- not this time. Even the thought of seeing Ed again- of hearing the familiar rumble of his voice- was enough to provoke tears, and the last thing Stede needed was a public humiliation, the cherry on top of his private anguish. 

It was only Monday morning. His divorce hearing was Tuesday afternoon. And in his briefcase, he already had a ticket for the 9:20am westbound train on Wednesday. One single ticket, Stede thought with a sigh, for a single man. No- not single. Divorced. 

"Doctor Bonnet?" the lawyer prompted him again, "Do you need a break? Some more tea, perhaps?"

Stede looked down at the half-full teacup he held in his hands. The cup itself was a garish blue and yellow thing, no doubt a reference to the Swedish flag. "No, I'm quite all right. Please,  continue."

"All right?" The lawyer continued in his strange, lilting voice."This hearing will be short and simple. Your witness, Herbert Packer, will testify that you’ve properly established legal residence- and you have, haven’t you?” Stede nodded. “Good. Then you’ll avow that all the details of the case are correct- which they are?” Stede nodded again. "Then Mrs. Bonnet’s representation will ask a few simple questions, and then the judge will proclaim you divorced. Nice and simple?"

“Ah,” Stede said, “That’s good.” He shifted in his seat, half-doubting his next words. “But suppose that Mrs. Bonnet’s lawyers decided to introduce… evidence into the hearing. Is that something we need to be prepared for?”

Mr. Larsson looked up from whatever he was writing. “Evidence of what, exactly? This is a no-fault divorce, your wife has no need to defend herself.”

Forcing the next words out was a trial itself, but Stede pushed through it. “I have reason to think that Mrs. Bonnet’s lawyers might try to, ah- smear my reputation.”

“But why? They’ve already agreed on the material terms of the divorce, which are very generous, to say the least. There’s nothing to be gained from any further action. This is a no-fault divorce?” the Swede repeated.

“Frankly, they may simply want to humiliate me. You see, Mrs. Bonnet’s lawyers and I have- a history. They're old classmates of mine from boarding school."

A bright smile lit up the lawyer's dim face. “Oh, that’s nice!”

“No, it isn't!” Stede snapped. He pinched the top of his nose as he released a silent prayer for patience. “Excuse me. What I’m trying to say is, I’d simply like to be as prepared as possible for any… shenanigans that they may have in mind."

The Swede put down his pen and laced his fingers together, like he was going to make a pronouncement.  "Doctor Bonnet? Is there something in particular that I should be prepared for, as your lawyer?"

Stede took a breath. He carefully set his teacup down on its saucer, and braced his hands on his thighs. Was there anything to prepare for? He mentally ran through his list for the tenth time that day. Herb wouldn't say anything to disparage his guest. Izzy Hands, or any of the patrons at his bar- they couldn't say a word even if they wanted to, not without implicating themselves. And as for the rest of Stede's indiscretions- the pleasure that he had found writhing under Ed, or bent over him,  or kneeling between his legs, or- all of that was strictly private. Secret.

"No, of course not," Stede said, and he pushed down the worry that was bubbling in his gut. "Nothing I can think of."

"Well, then, I'll see you tomorrow afternoon at the courthouse." The two men stood and shook hands. "Have you got any big plans for your last days in Reno? Trying to win big at the slots, maybe?"

Stede grimaced. "Not quite. I have some unfinished business here in town. Library books to return, things like that."

"Library books!" Lars Larsson laughed. "That's a good one. That's funny." As Stede left the lawyer's office and nodded at his secretary, he could hear the amused, lilting voice behind him. "Library books, ha!"

+++

The library was as empty as ever. Even the flies had given up on their lazy buzzing and had migrated to more lively environs. The only living soul to be seen was Lucius Spriggs, who was slouched so far down on the counter of the reference desk that he might look asleep, were it not for the occasional listless turn of a magazine page.

The library attendant didn’t acknowledge Stede’s approach, even though he must surely have seen him coming. When Stede reached the reference desk, he considered dropping the books down with a satisfying slam , just to see whether the young man would be startled into falling over. But his deep affinity for literature beat out his petty curiosity, and he respectfully slid the books across the counter until they were in Lucius’s field of vision.

“Gosh. Don't you look awful?” 

Lucius wrinkled his nose as he made his pronouncement, but at that moment, Stede didn’t have enough fight in him to shoot back a snitty response. When Stede just sighed and shrugged instead of biting back, Lucius’s look shifted into one of curiosity. 

“Long night?” he asked as he systematically opened each book and stamped the cards inside.

All at once, Stede was struck with the strongest urge to throw himself onto the nearest couch and tell Lucius everything he was feeling, like a teenage girl. The impulse was so powerful, so unsettling, that all Stede could manage to actually say was a plaintive “I don’t know.”

That pathetic response quickly pushed Lucius from curiosity to concern. He shot a quick glance around the library and then chewed on his lower lip for a moment, as if he was making up his mind about something. Then, he got right to the point. “Where’s Ed this morning?”

Stede took a large, bracing breath. “He’s- that is to say, we’re-” He danced his fingertips over the varnished wood of the counter. “Ed and I-”

“Right,” Lucius said. He raised his own hands off of the desk like he might reach out and cover Stede’s, but at the last moment he pulled back and rested them on his stack of books. “And… do we think this is more of a spat, or a rupture?”

A spat, a rupture, Stede didn’t know enough to know the difference. All he knew was- “It’s done.”

Lucius pulled out a well-worn sign that read Out to Lunch and slapped it down on the desk.

“Well, lucky for you, I’m fantastic at breakups.”

+++

They sat together at a folding card table in a windowless enclave that Lucius charitably called the library’s “break room”. The flies that had abandoned the library’s atrium had apparently relocated into the kitchenette, and Stede idly swatted them away as he recounted the events of the weekend.

"You're kidding," Lucius muttered, "I really put my money on you two running away together.”

“So did I!” Stede exclaimed, then clapped his hands over his mouth, embarrassed.

“It’s just the break room. You don’t have to whisper in here,” Lucius reminded him with a roll of his eyes. “Can’t blame you for shouting, anyhow. Your first love. Your first heartbreak. It’s a whole lot.”

“You’ve had your heart broken?” The young man seemed so sure of himself that it was hard to imagine.

“Of course I have. Roy Messina. 1953.”

Stede did some quick arithmetic in his head. “1953? But you would’ve only been-”

“Eighth grade,” he continued with a grand sweep of his hand. “I thought Roy was the living end. And he was sweet to me, too, you have to believe it. Passed me notes in class. Went easy on me at dodgeball. We even- well, I don’t want to shock you.” Lucius paused, clearly hoping Stede would ask him for all the salacious details. When he didn’t, Lucius shrugged and continued. “But then my family spent the summer at Lake Mead, and would you believe he never responded to any of my letters? Even though he had promised to write? And when I came back in August,” Lucius’s eyes narrowed, “Roy was going steady with Joanie Giordano.”

Unsure how to react to Lucius’s tale of woe, Stede settled for a vague “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, don’t be,” Lucius dismissed his concerns with a flick of his hand. “I put my chin up, and my best foot forward, and all of those things. And look at me now, thriving. Well, ready to thrive, at least, once I kick this town to the curb.” 

Of course! Through his haze of disappointment and dreams deferred, Stede remembered one part of his plan that could still happen. “Lucius- how would you feel about coming out to California with me?” he kept his voice light, trying his hardest not to think about the last time he asked somebody that question.

The ever-shifting expression on Lucius’s face settled into something impossible for Stede to read. “Stede. Um. I am very fond of you, you know. As I would be fond of a much, much older sister. A much older spinster sister who is obviously still hung-”

Stede covered his face in mortification and chuckled into his palms. “Lucius, please stop speaking.” For once, the younger man listened to him. With another unexpected giggle, Stede continued. “I’m not propositioning you. That is not remotely my intention.”

“Hm. Good.” Lucius raised an eyebrow. “But it got a laugh out of you, didn’t it?”

Surprise, then gratitude, hit Stede like waves. He felt a kinship with the canny young man sitting across the card table. It was a kind of fellow-feeling that was so very different from what Stede had initially felt for Ed that Stede was embarrassed that he had ever misunderstood himself so completely. But Lucius was a friend, pure and simple- and Stede could use a friend, now more than ever.

Certain now that his plan was a good one, Stede reworded his offer. “I think you should come work for me in Claremont,” he said. “The college budgets me twenty two dollars a week for an assistant’s salary, and I thought it would be nice to have somebody around who- you know - somebody who knows me.” 

“Get out of town!” Lucius’s blasé attitude disappeared in an instant. “A job? In California?”

His excitement was infectious, and for a moment, Stede’s heart didn’t feel quite so heavy. “Now, listen. The position doesn’t begin until the end of August, and there’s no pay at all over Christmas or the summer, and-”

“I’ll take it,” Lucius cut him off. 

“You don’t even know what the job entails. ”

Lucius shrugged. “How hard can it be? I can assist. I’ll be a swell assistant. Wow, I can’t wait to tell Pete. We’ve got enough money saved to get down there, and Pete’ll be able to find work in a minute, he’s so handy-” he was in a world of his own now, and Stede was content to sit back in his rickety chair and let him talk. At least now there was one person excited about the weeks ahead of them.

+++

As he descended the stairs on Tuesday morning, dressed in his courtroom best, Stede could hear two quiet voices in the living room. Their words were unintelligible, but Stede recognized the all-too familiar rhythms of a heated argument that was being carried out in hushed tones. 

Wary of interrupting a private moment, Stede tried to retreat back up the steps until they were done. Immediately, the staircase betrayed him with a loud creak , and the voices in the sitting room silenced. There was no hiding now. Stede squared his shoulders and continued down the stairs.

There were only two of them waiting down there: Herb, looking exasperated with his hands on his hips, and the man who Stede had been avoiding for the last two days. Ed stood facing away from the stairs, and Stede was grateful. It bought him a moment to school his face into something neutral and polite, instead of instantly betraying his feelings. He gave his best attempt at a thin smile to Herb, who nodded back in greeting.

The soft morning light perfectly hit every angle of Ed’s face as he turned around to look at Stede. He was so handsome that it hurt- genuinely, Stede felt a sharp pang in his chest when he looked at the soft black hair that Stede had tugged, the strong jaw that Stede knew tasted like salt, like the ocean, like Ed. 

Stede wanted to close the space between them, privacy and propriety and goodbyes be damned, he wanted. When their eyes met, Stede thought perhaps that Ed was feeling the same things, but then his face hardened and he turned back to his stepfather.

“Are you gonna tell him, or do I have to do that, too?”

Stede looked at Herb quizzically. Herb shot a scathing glare at Ed, but when he spoke to Stede, he was as professional as ever. “Morning, Doctor Bonnet. There’s coffee in the kitchen if you’d-”

“Herb here doesn’t feel like going to the courthouse today,” Ed interrupted, “he wants me to go instead.”

“You?” Stede struggled to catch up. He looked back at Herb. “Mister Packer, I was under the impression you would be bearing witness at my hearing.” 

The muscles in Herb’s jaw tensed and flexed as he chose his next words. Stede had seen Ed make just the same motion a dozen times before. Funny, wasn’t it, how two people could be related by so much more than just blood. 

“I’m in a position, Doctor Bonnet. I hope your hearing will go off without a hitch- I really do. But I understand there might be some sort of dog and pony show at the courthouse, is that right?”

Stede nodded. “There may be some- complications. Yes.”

“I’ve been running this ranch for nearly thirty years. Been serving as a witness just as long. And I’ve never lied under oath, not once. If a lawyer asks me a question, I’m obliged to give the whole truth. Doesn’t matter why they’re asking. It’s my obligation.”

Stede glanced in the direction of the kitchen, wishing that he had taken his tea before having this conversation.

“But, now, if I’m asked a question that would call into question the integrity of my ranch- or of my family-” Ed snorted, and in Stede’s peripheral vision he saw him cross his arms. Herb continued as if nothing had happened. “Well, now, you see, that puts me in a position.”

Uneasy, Stede shifted his weight. “I see.”

Herb stayed as stoic as ever. “Ed’s served as a witness plenty of times before. They know him at the courthouse. He’s a real professional.”

Against his own will, Stede turned to look at Ed. Between the crossed arms and the petulant expression, he looked more like one of Stede’s students than a grown man. But under Stede’s gaze, he softened. “I know I’m the last person you want to see right now, Stede. If there was another way-”

“It’s all right,” Stede said quickly, because he couldn’t say what he was really thinking. “I understand. And I’m so sorry that I caused all of this trouble, Mister Packer.”

A look passed between Herb and Ed that Stede couldn’t decipher. He excused himself to the kitchen to make his tea, and then he carefully carried it up the creaking stairs to take his breakfast alone in his room.

+++

Stede ran his fingers over the supple red leather of Queen Anne’s dashboard. It really was a beautiful truck. He felt the vehicle shudder and hum to life when Ed turned the key in the ignition, and then they were driving down the long gravel road, just like they had so many times before. 

“Smoke?” Ed held the pack between them like a peace offering. Stede accepted, and thumped two cigarettes out. He lit one in his lips before passing it to Ed, then he cringed, second-guessing the intimate gesture. But Ed took it from him without a word.

As they drove, Ed offered no amusing stories, nor did Stede point out any interesting birds or trees that he might’ve seen out the window. Quietly, they started driving past restaurants, apartment buildings and seedy motels, and then downtown Reno was almost upon them. 

“It’s not that I don’t want to see you,” Stede broke the silence before it was too late. “Back at the ranch, you said you were the last person I wanted to see, but it's quite the opposite, really- I do want to see you. It’s just- difficult.”

“Yeah.” Ed agreed after a moment. "It's difficult.” 

Stede watched Ed's right hand twitch and flex on the steering wheel. He didn't dare look at the left hand, which was bringing a cigarette to Ed's lips. Anything would be better than looking at those lips. 

Being in close quarters with Ed was- well, how had Stede managed it, in those endless three weeks between meeting him and having him? And how was Stede going to manage all the endless weeks to come?

Desperate to divert that train of thought, Stede spoke again. “I hope you know I’m grateful for this. I mean- for you bearing witness. It’s very kind of you.”

A soft breath of disbelief slipped from between Ed’s lips, along with the cigarette smoke.  “Don’t worry, I won’t stay in the courtroom,” he said. “They’ll call me into the room to testify, then I can leave.”

Stede Bonnet always was a coward. “Do you have to?”

“You want me to stick around?” Ed asked, not bothering to disguise the surprise in his voice.

"No!" Stede answered quickly. Too quickly. The idea of facing the Badmintons alone was worse than any distraction posed by Ed. And he always felt braver with Ed around. "Yes. If you don't mind. Yes, I'd like that."

They pulled into the little parking lot to the side of the Washoe County courthouse. “Well, if you want me to stay in the courtroom,” he said at last, “then that's where I’ll be.”

The courthouse was a lovely building, with soaring Corinthian columns supporting an ornate entablature. Stede wanted to murmur his appreciation of the design to Ed, but the formal silence between them was too weighted, too intimidating for him to break.

They stayed quiet as they rode up together in the elevator to the second floor. In the waiting room, quite a few people- men, women, young, old- had already settled into the uncomfortable wooden chairs. One young man wordlessly stood up to give Ed and Stede a place to sit together, and Stede nodded his thanks. The waiting room itself was bare and plain, and it reminded Stede more of the set of a community theater performance than an actual room meant to be occupied by living people. 

Despite the climate control of the room, Stede’s hands were cold and his mouth was dry. Nerves, he supposed. Soon enough, his name would be called, and he would step into yet another room, this one occupied by Nigel and Chauncey Badminton. 

It was unfair- it was maddening- how even from two thousand miles away, those two were able to poison Stede’s fresh beginning. He remembered with exact clarity the last time he saw them: not even five months ago, at his father’s memorial service, they cornered him and offered their condolences, carefully phrased to obscure the insults underneath. 

"You must feel completely adrift," one of them had said, artificial pity dripping from each word. "I can't imagine what you'll do without him."

Even then, Stede had been planning his great escape west, free from his father's shadow at last. He was so sure that he would never have to see his tormentors again. Yet here they were, brought back by the vagaries of chance, or perhaps as one last insult from Stede’s father-in-law. Or perhaps it was Stede's destiny to suffer at the hands of men like the Badmintons, no matter what he tried.

“Hey. Breathe.” 

The soft rumble of Ed’s voice came from somewhere to Stede’s left. It was a beacon, a light shining through fog, and it was just enough to hold Stede’s focus as he brought himself back to reality. He kept his eyes squeezed closed as he took a deep breath, out then in, and waited for his heart to return to its usual pace. 

Finally, he risked glancing at Ed. “Thank you.”

“Are you going to be alright up there, mate?” Ed’s eyes were warm with concern.

Was Stede going to be alright? “Yes. Yes, of course. I just…” 

Whatever Stede was planning to say next drifted away from his brain before he could say it. Ed must’ve noticed, because he gave an encouraging nod. “There’s nothing in that courtroom that you can’t handle, Stede.”

“We don’t know that,” Stede whispered. “The phone calls…”

“Forget those calls,” Ed said with force. “They’ve got nothing. There’s nobody in this town who would say one bad word about you. Nobody. Just keep your head up and don’t take their bull. You understand me?”

Stede looked at the kind, protective man sitting next to him, and he understood. “Ed. I-”

“Doctor Bonnet?” a peculiar, familiar voice chirped.

Lars Larsson stood in front of them, hat in one hand, briefcase in the other. “Oh, Mister Teach? Was your father feeling under the weather today?”

“Yeah,” Ed answered, and said no more.

Undeterred, the lawyer nodded and gave Stede a benign smile. “Don’t you fret, Mister Bonnet- Ed here is practically a professional witness. He’ll take good care of you.”

+++

The Badmintons were already in the courtroom. 

They stood flanking the judge, smirking at him in stereo as they carried on a quiet discussion. Stede froze mid-stride when he saw them there, and would have toppled right over if Ed hadn’t braced his shoulder with a quick, firm touch. As soon as Stede was steady on his feet, Ed pulled his hand away, leaving a cold ache behind.

Together, they walked down the row of pews and took their seats- with several feet of empty air between them- while the Swede went to speak to the Badmintons and the judge.

To Stede’s surprise, the Badmintons didn’t acknowledge his presence. He had expected some passive-aggressive remarks, at the very least, but they didn’t so much as glance Stede’s way. It was unnerving, observing them chatting with the judge, and even shaking Lars Larsson’s hand. 

It all felt like a dream, or maybe a nightmare - watching his lifelong tormentors making smalltalk with his lawyer, while the love of his life sat just out of arm’s reach, looking anywhere but at him. Before Stede knew it, the hearing was beginning. He shook off the dreamlike fog and endeavored to pay attention.

“Bonnet against Bonnet, the honorable George King presiding.”

Ed was called at once as a witness and sworn in. The Swede asked him to state his name and address.

“Do you know this gentleman?” Lars Larsson turned and indicated Stede. 

Ed looked down at where Stede sat. “I do.”

“This is Mister Stede Bonnet, the plaintiff?”

“Yes.”

“When did you meet Mister Bonnet?”

“At Orange Sky Ranch, on June fifteenth of this year.”

Ed stood at the base of the stairs, illuminated in a cage of sunlight, glowing from the warmth of it. The word “home” was ringing in Stede’s ears.

“And he’s lived with you there, at your home, since that time?”

“He has.”

“From June fifteenth until today, you avow that you have either seen Mister Bonnet in Reno, Nevada each and every day, or you otherwise have confirmation of his presence in Reno?”

“I do,” Ed repeated, eyes still locked on Stede’s. 

Ed stood straight and tall, looking every inch the perfect groomsman as he watched his friends exchange their vows. He raised his hand to the bolo tie at his throat and caressed the red stone.

“Thank you, that will be all,” the Swede said, and took his seat. 

After a quick whisper with his brother, Nigel Badminton stood. He held a gold fountain pen, and as he spoke, he gestured with it, as if he was brandishing a weapon. “Edward Teach.” The hair on the back of Stede’s neck stood up at the sound of Ed’s name in that awful voice. “You’re absolutely certain that the plaintiff remained in Reno for the duration of six weeks?”

If Ed was bothered by the repeated question, he didn’t show it. “Yes, I’m certain.”

“And you can speak to that with authority in your position as… I’m sorry, what position do you hold at Orange Sky Ranch? I’m not sure you mentioned that.”

Ed squared his shoulders and raised his chin. “Handyman. And I live on the premises.” 

Ed spooned marmalade onto his toast with an appreciative hum. Ed laughed and maneuvered the crossword puzzle out of Stede’s hands. Ed’s forearms flexed and glistened as he wiped sweat off of his forehead.

“And speaking with your authority as the, ah, handyman, you can attest that Stede- that the plaintiff spent each night at the ranch?”

“I believe I answered that question already,” Ed responded, “but yes, that’s right.”

Nigel turned back to the table where his brother sat. His gaze passed over Stede as he turned. Time seemed to slow down in the single second that their eyes met. Nigel’s eyes were cold, but mirthful, like he was playing some sort of secret game. Stede’s heart was pounding- what were they playing at? What did they have on him? Even if they knew about his hotel reservation, it didn’t matter - Stede checked in and out on the same day, and besides, it was still in Reno. 

Time sped back up as Chauncey handed his brother a paper. “Mister Teach,” Nigel said as he turned back to the bench, “Are you familiar with one Donald Wellington?”

“Yes- I am.” The slightest flex of Ed’s jaw was the only thing that betrayed his surprise. Stede, on the other hand, shivered with nerves as he remembered the sanctimonious life insurance salesman who rented a room down the hall. 

Wellington's eyes gleamed. "That son of his, the grown one? Be careful around him, doctor. One hears all sorts of things."

“Mr. Wellington was another guest at Orange Sky.” Ed said simply. “Checked out a few weeks ago- on July fourteenth, I believe.” 

“That’s correct." Nigel punctuated the statement with a jab of his gold fountain pen. "And can you help me understand, Mister Teach, why Mister Wellington attests on the record that for at least one night, July ninth, the plaintiff failed to meet curfew, and his whereabouts were unknown?” 

“Objection?” the Swede cried in a high, sing-songy voice. 

The judge said something to the Swede, and to Nigel, but Stede didn’t hear the details over the blood rushing in his ears. He knew exactly what night they meant. Wellington was correct, Stede didn’t make curfew on July ninth. That night, he and Ed stayed out at Lake Tahoe, making love until well after the sun came up. 

Stede took a slow breath, and then another one, pushing through his panic before it could become a problem. He was sure that Ed recalled the night in question just as well as Stede did. But Ed didn’t look at Stede- and thank goodness. Stede was sure he would blush and give the game away. 

“Not exactly,” Ed was saying. “His whereabouts weren’t unknown at all. He was with me.”

The answer stopped Nigel Badminton in his tracks. “With you? All night?” 

Stede squirmed in his seat, suddenly mindful of the vow Ed took to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. So help them both. 

“Yeah, that’s right.” Ed’s voice was as steady as a drum. “I took Mister Bonnet camping. Out at Lake Tahoe.” 

The twins exchanged a glance. “Camping?” Nigel repeated with a sneer. “Baby Bonnet??” 

Three things happened at once: Stede winced at the old nickname, Lars Larsson sucked in a breath to power his next objection!, and the judge beat him to the punch. “Mister Badminton,” he cautioned, “When we spoke earlier, you and your brother assured me that your personal history with the plaintiff was immaterial to this hearing. Schoolboy nicknames are not welcome in this courtroom.”

Nigel gave a little shrug of contrition. It was such a transparent performance that it made Stede’s blood boil to see the judge accept it and motion for the lawyer to continue. 

“Is there anybody else who could corroborate that Mister Bonnet went out camping that night?” 

"Let's see." Ed made a show of scratching his chin in thought. "A sidewinder came by, he got a real good look at us. But then I had to kill him."

The judge tried to disguise his laugh by coughing into his hand.

"Sidewinder?" Nigel asked him with a furrowed brow.

"A snake." 

Nigel flushed with anger and clutched his fountain pen in his fist as he turned back to Ed. “You're a handyman and a comedian, I see. And would you describe the plaintiff as a friend, Mister Teach?” 

Ed didn’t hesitate. “Certainly, I would.” 

From where he was sitting on the pew, Stede couldn’t see the look on Nigel’s face, but he could easily picture his incredulity at the idea of Stede having any sort of friend. Six weeks ago, Stede couldn’t have imagined it, either. 

The lawyer pivoted back to the judge’s bench. “Your honor, can we really trust a personal friend of the plaintiff to vouch for him?”

Judge King sat up straighter in his seat. “Edward Teach has been speaking in this courtroom for sixteen years,” he intoned. “If you question his fitness, you’re questioning the integrity of the entire Washoe County divorce court, do you understand?”

“But your honor,” Nigel whined, now shaking his fist like a small child, “you don’t know Stede Bonnet. He-”

The courtroom stenographer yelped, and the judge flinched, but Stede just stared in disbelief as the side of Nigel Badminton's face exploded in a spray of red. 

Broken pieces of a golden fountain pen were clutched tight in Nigel's fist, which was even more stained with red ink than his face and neck. He stared down at the broken pen in shock, and for a moment, nobody made a sound. 

Behind Nigel, Stede saw Ed sitting stock-still at the bench, trying his hardest to hold back his laughter. Their eyes met, and then it was over for Stede. Try as he might, he couldn't contain the hysterical giggle that bubbled out of him. He covered his mouth with his hands, but it was too late.

"You- you-" Nigel sputtered and spun in Stede's direction. "Don't you dare laugh at me, goddammit!"

“Order!” The judge knocked his gavel. “Mister Badminton, I don't tolerate foul language. Get out of my courtroom and clean yourself up." When Nigel only gawked, the judge added an imperious " Now. "

Stede couldn’t believe it. Nigel Badminton, doused in red ink and vibrating with barely-contained rage, rushed out of the courtroom while his brother blindly shuffled paperwork around as if that had been his intention all along. And Ed watched it all from the bench, cool as anything.

"Mister Badminton," Judge King addressed Chauncey now, "Do you need a recess to prepare?"

Chauncey stood, still projecting the cool neutrality that his brother had abandoned. "No, your honor. I'd like to resume questioning."

The judge checked his watch. "Go on, then."

“Mister Teach,” Chauncey began, and then he paused. He looked back and forth between Ed and the judge for a moment, and then he sighed. “No further questions.”

Ed nodded and took his seat, and then it was Stede’s turn to swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. 

“Will you state your name, please?” Lars Larsson asked, falling into the script that they had practiced.

“Stede Bonnet.”

“Are you the plaintiff in the case in which Mary Bonnet is the defendant?”

“I am.”

“And is the defendant your wife?”

“She is.” Stede ran his thumb over the bare spot on his ring finger and remembered the moment that his wedding band had slipped away at last.

“Where do you reside, Mister Bonnet?” He gave the address.

“When did you come to Reno, Nevada to reside?” He gave the date.

“Do you have another legal residence, other than your home here?” He thought about the little house in Claremont that he’d only seen in pictures, and the lease that would begin on the first of August. 

“No, no other home.” 

Stede relaxed into the bench and answered the rest of his lawyer’s questions easily. The written agreement of settlement was submitted as evidence and accepted as Exhibit A. When Chauncey Badminton rose to question him, Stede’s heart rate began rising, and the corners of his vision began to blur. Through the haze, Stede allowed himself a single glance at Ed, who was leaning forward in his pew now, not out of anxiety, but silent encouragement. 

Breathe , Stede could almost hear the rumble of Ed's voice next to him, and so he did.

“Mister Bonnet,” Chauncey began, “you have alleged as grounds for divorce that the defendant treated you with cruelty during the marriage, and that the cruelty was mental in nature. Is that the truth?”

“Yes.” His mouth was dry, and he coughed into his fist.

“Would you please tell the court the details of these acts of cruelty?”

“Um. Yes- silence,” he recited. Lars Larsson coached Stede through these questions yesterday. “Whole days could go by, and she wouldn’t speak a word to me. Even when- even if we were both at home all day.” Stede hadn’t objected to the silence at the time, of course, but he kept that to himself.

Chauncey raised his eyebrows. “Is that cruelty, now? Most husbands would be thrilled to hear less from their wives.”

“Mister Badminton, you’ve been warned.” To Stede’s relief, the judge was unamused by Chauncey’s antics. “Mister Bonnet, please, continue.”

Stede weighed his next words. It was suddenly important to him to leave some manner of truth on the record. He stopped twisting his hands together, and tried to think clearly. “We were both cold to one another. Equally. We did try- we tried to make a marriage between us. We- she tried, I think, harder than I did. And all the trying and failing made her bitter, and neurotic, and it made me -” 

Then he made the mistake of looking at Chauncey Badminton. 

He was twelve, begging the Badmintons to leave him alone as they dragged him into the stables.

He was twenty-four, hiding in the bathroom from the Badmintons at his own engagement party.

He was thirty-three, staring down Chauncey Badminton in Reno divorce court, bracing himself for a rush of panic that never came.

He wasn't panicked. He wasn't even afraid.

"Marriage made me unhappy," he said at last. "It made us both terribly unhappy. That's the beginning and end of it, I think. And I want Mary to be happy. She deserves it. And so do I," he added, sitting up straighter. "At least, I deserve a shot at it."

When he looked at Chauncey again, the lawyer looked as shocked as he would if Stede had pulled a gun on him, right there in court. His mouth opened to ask another question, but then it closed, silently. He scowled down at the floor for a moment, then smoothed the front of his shirt. Finally, he glared over at the judge.

"No further questions."

"Plaintiff granted a decree of divorce. The agreement now in evidence marked Plaintiff's Exhibit 'A' is approved, and is adopted as part of this decree by reference. The agreement is not merged in the decree and shall continue to exist as a separate and independent document."

The judge's gavel banged one final, satisfying time, and it was over.

Stede signed something- he didn't notice what- and so did Lars Larsson, and then Stede and Ed were walking through the lifeless waiting room, down the long hallway and finally, into the elevators.

Stede stood in the warm afternoon sun and pulled out a cigarette. 

Ed was still inside the courtroom, pulled into a conversation with the owner of a neighboring property who happened to be at the courthouse that day. Lars Larsson had already offered his best wishes and moved on to his next client of the day.  For a while, Stede was alone. Alone and unattached, legally speaking, for the first time in a very long time. 

He closed his eyes and let himself relish the first crackle of smoke filling his lungs. It was over. It was finished. And whatever the future held, he was truly optimistic- or at least as close to optimistic as he had ever been in his life. 

As if on cue, a familiar voice cut through Stede’s satisfaction.

“ Baby Bonnet. ”

Chauncey and Nigel Badminton hadn’t made a sound when they sauntered up to Stede in the parking lot. Nigel looked rather the worse for wear- the ink that splashed the side of his face and neck when his pen exploded left a rather noticeable red stain, and there was surely no saving his shirt.

Perhaps his public humiliation had left him without his usual social graces, too, because he was barely even trying to disguise his vitriol when he spoke. “It’s almost a blessing that your father passed away, isn’t it? He’d be so ashamed to see you now. Divorced ,   teaching at some nothing school, hiding away in the desert like a snake…”

“And cosying up to the hired help for company,” Chauncey butted in. “Conversation with the handyman must be riveting: ‘Pass me the hammer, huh, Stede?’”

Nigel snickered at his brother’s asinine impression, but Stede just stepped in closer. “Edward is twice the man you are.” he hissed. “And that goes for both of you, so. Four times the man, really.” Internally, he winced at his own fumbled rejoinder, but at least on the surface he managed to stare Chauncey down.

Chauncey stepped back unconsciously. “Touchy, isn’t he?” he smirked at Nigel.

“Why so defensive, Bonnet?” Nigel smiled wickedly. “Gone native, have you?”

The corners of Stede’s vision went white- not with panic or fear, but with pure anger. He threw his cigarette down on the ground and pulled his arm back for a wallop. Nigel flinched back, but before Stede could hit him, a voice off to the side pulled his attention.

“Hey, Stede- no-” Ed stepped between Stede and the Badminton twins. He was panting lightly, like he sprinted over when he saw disaster unfurling. He lowered his voice and turned to Stede. “C’mon, mate. It’s done. They’re nothing.” 

Past Ed, Stede could see the Badminton twins look at one another. He recognized their expressions all too well- they were afraid of him, at least a little bit. Swelling with self-satisfaction, he raised his eyebrows.  “Nothing else to say? Hm?”

Without a word, the Badmintons turned tail and scurried off to their car. Ed waited until they pulled out of the parking lot, and then he turned on Stede. “What the hell were you thinking?” he growled, but Stede was fairly sure he could sense pride under the rebuke.

“I had the situation managed! I was going to do a punch!” Stede protested.

“Do a p-!” Ed pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “Have you ever thrown a punch in your life?”

“Well.” Stede’s pride faltered. “Not as such, no.”

Try as he might, Ed couldn’t hide his smile behind his hand- not when his eyes gave it away. “You got the upper hand on those pricks, even so. Now c’mon, let’s get out of here.”

It was a hot day, even hotter in the cab of the Chevy. Still, Ed lingered, keys in his hand, as if was waiting for Stede to say something. But the adrenaline had worn off, and Stede was suddenly tongue-tied. Finally, Ed spoke:

“Back to the ranch, then?”

They both knew the answer was no, but Stede said it anyway, heart pounding. “Not yet. I feel like maybe we should, um. Celebrate. Is that- do you-” 

Ed released a shaky laugh. “Yeah. All right. Yeah. Where to?”

“Ed, I want-” The clarity of what Stede wanted was nearly blinding. "Take me to bed."

For a moment, Stede thought Ed might deny him, but then Ed’s key was sliding into the ignition, and the truck was purring to life. 

“Look,” Ed said, “I know somewhere we can go, but- I don’t know if you’ll like it.”

“I’ll like it,” Stede promised, “Just take me there.”

Stede wouldn’t like it, probably, if he was thinking about it harder. Jack Rackham and his new bride were away on their honeymoon (Puerto Vallarta, apparently) and their trailer was all clean and ready for their return. Ed explained why he had the key- something about feeding a snake?- but Stede wasn’t listening. All of his energy was dedicated to keeping his hands off of Ed, off of his own body, as he felt the heat simmering in his belly.

Tomorrow, he would be alone on a train to California. But today- today he was with Ed, and he’d rather be with Ed in some pervert’s trailer park home than without Ed anywhere else. 

They both stumbled on the gravel in their rush to get inside, and then they laughed, but the laughter disappeared as soon as the door closed behind them. 

Stede was shoved against the door before he knew what was happening. He vaguely registered a “Just married” banner pinned on the wall above them, but then they were kissing, if the desperate clash of tongues and teeth could be called a kiss. They moved together, peeling off jackets and loosening ties, and then Ed got a knee between Stede’s legs and ground into him. 

“What do you want?” he breathed into Stede’s ear.

Stede tipped his head back against the door with a whimper. With a great effort, he marshaled his brain into remembering exactly what he wanted. Stede started to remind Ed, just as Ed jerked his jaw toward the door nearest the kitchenette. “Bed,” they said in unison. 

The bedroom was a cramped thing, of course, but Stede hardly noticed it, busy as he was with the imperative act of stripping off his shoes and clothes as quickly as possible, while not missing a moment of watching Ed do the same. 

As soon as they were both completely bare, they found each other again, each of them crawling to the middle of the bed until they were kissing again. Lucky they were so close to the same height- even raised up on their knees as they were, it was easy to kiss and kiss and kiss. Even easier, then, when Ed gently pressed Stede down to the bed and lay himself out above him. 

A memory fluttered against Stede’s eyes- Ed, smiling like the cat that got the cream, in that big blue bed at the Hotel Riverside. That day felt like a dream- welcome, and wonderful, but entirely outside of Stede’s understanding. Not any more. Today, Stede knew exactly how he felt. 

“I love you, Ed.” Ed paused momentarily and his eyes flared, but then he shook it off and leaned down for another long, heated kiss.

“I do,” Stede tried again. “I want you.” He grabbed Ed’s hand from where it was roaming his chest and dragged it down, spreading his knees and hitching his hips up so that Ed’s fingertips were pressed just where he wanted them. “I want you like this.”

Ed’s breath left him with a ragged whoosh . He swallowed before asking- “Are you sure?” The answer must have been plain on Stede’s face, because Ed just looked down at him and nodded to himself. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. Let me just-”

Stede let out a whine when Ed retreated to the bathroom, but when he came back with a clean towel and a little jar of something clear, Stede understood. Soon the towel was laid out underneath him, and the jar was open. Ed’s hands were already captivating- sometimes it was hard to look at anything else- but seeing him slick up his fingers with such care, knowing what he intended to do with them, was enough to leave Stede squirming impatiently against the towel.

“Hang on, just a second,” Ed mumbled, coating his first finger liberally. Stede held his breath and tried to lay still as Ed finished.

Finally, he was ready. The blunt tip of finger circled Stede’s hole once, twice, and then Stede released his breath as it slipped inside. “Oh,” he murmured and shifted a little. Ed waited, carefully watching Stede’s expression, and then he pressed in further, to the second knuckle.

With a stunned expression, Ed shook his head. “How-” he started, but it was like the words got lost in his chest.

“What, what?” Stede asked, and craned his neck up to look. Was he doing something wrong?

When Ed’s voice returned, it was soft and disbelieving. "Silk. You feel just like silk."

Stede flushed at the praise. When Ed added a second finger, it was a much slower process. It burned, edging Stede closer to pain than pleasure, and Ed must’ve noticed, because he rested back on his haunches, freeing up his second hand to gently stroke Stede’s flagged erection. The burst of pleasure worked, relaxing Stede enough that the second finger slid in easily next to the first.

“You can move now,” he said after a moment of adjustment, and Ed gave a wolfish grin as he complied, drawing his fingers in and out with an exquisite drag. Then he rotated his fingers just right, and Stede's whole body lit up as bright as any of the neon signs in Reno. 

Stede’s fists twisted in the bedspread and he cried out a wordless shout. “Good?” Ed asked, his voice rough.

“Good- more,” he demanded, or maybe he begged, as soon as he could speak again, “I can take more.”

Ed slowly withdrew his fingers, leaving Stede feeling bereft.  “ Shhh ,” Ed soothed him, and guided him to roll onto his knees and elbows. Ed placed his broad hand at the small of his back and rubbed up and down his spine. “It’s easier like this, your first time,” he assured him, and then he slid two fingers back inside and began moving.

When he added the third digit, Stede dropped his forehead down on the bed and gasped at the stretch of it. It didn’t last long, Ed fingering him open like that, before Ed pulled his hand away and Stede heard slick sounds behind him. 

The warmth of Ed’s body settled in above Stede, and he felt slick pressure press in behind him, tried to prepare himself for a for an entrance that never came. Instead, Ed seemed satisfied to slide back and forth between Stede’s cheeks, giving him just enough delicious friction to drive him crazy, and no more. Stede braced himself on his elbows and pressed back to meet Ed's slow grind.

“Jesus, Stede,” Ed swore above him, “Are you- are you sure about this?”

“About what?” Stede gasped. 

“About doing this- right now?” Ed was using both hands to brace against the bed, completely caging Stede in, but when Stede heard his deep voice so broken and raw, he felt like Ed was the one at his mercy.

Stede giggled into the bedspread, halfway to hysterical with desire and desperate for whatever would come next. “You’re asking me that now?”

“Yeah,” Ed panted, “I am.”

“What, do you want me to beg you?”

Ed’s body stilled above him. “Beg me? You haven’t even asked me.”

“Please,” Stede keened immediately, ready to give Ed anything he wanted. “Please, Ed, take me. Make love to me. Make me yours.”

He heard the sound of a soft gasp above him at the words. Emboldened, he dared to glance over his shoulder. If he hadn’t seen Ed’s lips moving, he might not have heard the murmured words. “You’re already mine, Stede.”

Maybe Ed only took a few seconds to enter him, maybe an hour- Stede lost time there, lost himself, and when he came back it was to the feeling of fullness, like nothing he’d ever felt before. It hurt, but it felt good- it was all so much more than anything Stede had imagined.

Once he was fully inside, Ed adjusted himself until the long line of his front was pressed against Stede’s back, close enough that Stede could feel coarse chest hair tickling his shoulder blades. Ed was as close as another body could get, he was inside Stede, but it wasn’t enough. Maybe it would never be enough, not ever.

“Good?” Ed looked for confirmation, pressing gentle kisses against Stede’s neck.

Stede nodded and then gasped as Ed pulled back so that just the tip of him remained inside. When he pushed back in, he barely brushed against the spot that made Stede light up, and even that small jolt was nothing short of ecstasy. “Ed, please, love- more.” he begged, voice high and thin. Ed obliged, this time with more force, and-

“Yes, yes- like that,” Stede choked out, his cheek smashed against the mattress. 

His own erection was slick between his stomach and the towel as Ed fucked him down into the mattress. Stede was being fucked - and any shame he might have felt was lost in the eager, aching fog of his pleasure. He pushed up on his hands a little to look back at Ed, who stretched to meet him and kiss the corner of his mouth. “I’ve got you,” Ed promised, “I’ve got you.”

Only then did Stede realize that he was crying.

“There!” he groaned out through the tears when Ed lit up his body again. 

“Here?” Ed growled, and repeated the movement, again and again.

“Yes,” Stede said, and then he couldn’t stop saying it. “Yes, yes, yes-” he chanted with each of Ed’s thrusts. He was writhing, clawing the sheets, spinning out a blur of yes. When he came, it was a tidal wave of sensation, and for a moment he was carried out to sea, floating free without an anchor.

The wave of pleasure and release overwhelmed his senses and left him falling apart in Ed’s embrace, grateful that he was being held so tightly. He let Ed tip their bodies to the side so they were nestled together like spoons, but when Ed began to pull back, he shot a hand behind him and held on.

“Don’t,” he whispered, “Don’t pull out. Please. I need you here. Please.” 

Ed listened. He wrapped his arms around Stede’s middle and held him even closer, until they were flush from knees to chest, with Ed’s chin hooked over Stede’s shoulder.

Stede hissed at the ache as Ed rocked all the way back in. He was fucking Stede so gently, so carefully, his lips roving across Stede’s neck and jaw so softly. “I love you,” he whispered, shattering Stede’s heart and fusing it back together all at once. “I love you, Stede.” 

He wanted to respond, wanted to echo his words, or at least offer a sigh or a murmur of encouragement, but his mind and his body were still so far apart, all he could do was accept what Ed gave him. 

Ed’s thrusts sped up as his control frayed, and Stede just rode out the tide of sensation until Ed finally gave a long groan, screwed in deep and held still. Stede could actually feel him coming, warm and wet, making him feel claimed. Possessed . 

After a last shuddering grunt, Ed slumped against Stede. and then they both took a moment to catch their breath. Ed stroked his fingertips across Stede’s trembling chest, holding him close and whispering quiet comfort until the shaking stopped.

“These are new,” Ed said, lazily nudging his nose against the side of Stede’ neck. Stede could feel the low rumble of his voice everywhere the planes of their bodies were plastered together. He shimmied back into the sensation, content to listen, until he realized that he had no idea what Ed meant.

“Hmm?” 

Ed lifted a hand away from Stede’s stomach and brushed the outer shell of Stede’s ear. “You’ve got freckles here, on the tops of your ears. You didn’t have ‘em at the beginning of the summer. Never seen anybody get freckles there before.”

Unconsciously, Stede brought his hand up to the side of his face, as if he could read his own freckles like braille. Their fingers brushed together, then laced together, then Stede tilted his head to the side and kissed the smooth skin of Ed’s inner wrist.

Ed’s chest expanded against his back as he took a considered breath. “Stede,” he started, but something in the tone of his voice made Stede dread the rest of the sentence.

“I love the way you say my name,” he interrupted. It was true, but he’d never thought to tell Ed before. “I never liked my name, really. It was my grandfather’s. I didn’t know him. Heard all about him, of course- the late, great industrialist, all of that. But Stede- Stede was his name. A stranger’s name. But now…” he trailed off, suddenly self-conscious of his babbling.

A squeeze of his hand in Ed’s prompted him to continue. “When you say my name, it sounds like my name. It sounds like me.”

Ed buried his face in Stede’s hair and tightened his embrace until it was just on the wrong side of comfortable. Stede squeezed back, where he could, grasping at Ed’s forearms where they wrapped around his trunk. He held on like a lifeline, like holding on could delay the inevitable.

After the too-short moment, Ed loosened his arms and rolled onto his back. “We should go. It’s almost five.”

“Is it?” Stede sat up and stretched his neck. He hadn’t given any notice to the decor of the Rackhams’ mobile home before, perhaps out of self-preservation, but looking around, he noticed the furnishings were surprisingly tasteful and tidy. 

And then he looked down at himself, and at the bed, both of which were rather sweat-soaked and worse for wear. He felt a twinge of guilt in his gut as he stood, which was quickly joined by other new twinges and aches in his body. “Will Jack be upset that we-”

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” Ed cut in. He hauled himself out of the bed and assessed. The towel had taken the worst of it, and he bundled it up and tossed it into a nearby laundry basket before stripping the bed. “Go clean yourself up as best you can, for now. I’ll come back and take care of this laundry tomorrow.”

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow morning, Stede would be on the train to San Francisco, and then another train to Claremont. And Ed would be right here, taking care of the linens that they soiled. 

Stede blinked back his emotions as he wiped himself down in the tiny bathroom. When he was finally as clean as he was going to get, he returned to find that Ed had already gathered up his clothes from the floor and laid them out on the bare mattress.

He dressed as Ed took his turn in the bathroom, and then he sat and watched the muscles on Ed’s back flex and twist as he pulled on his blue jeans and boots. “I’m going to need quite a bath when we get home,” he mused, and Ed hummed in acknowledgement. 

“I wish you could take it with me,” he added daringly. “I wish I could watch you take all those clothes off again, and then settle you into the hot water with me and get you clean and relaxed.”

Ed’s hands hesitated on his shirt buttons. “Yeah. I wish that, too.” When he looked up at Stede, his eyes were shining. “I wish a lot of things, sweetheart.”

Stede only took a few short steps and then Ed was in his arms. They held each other in silence, as if the feelings between them were too large and complex to name. But they weren’t. They never were. “We love each other,” he said desperately, pathetically, like he was pleading his case before a judge again. “Isn’t that anything?”

“It’s everything,” Ed answered. “I just wish it was enough.”

Indignation bubbled in Stede’s chest, and he pulled away, just enough to look at Ed in the eye. “Why can’t it be? You’re Ed Teach. You can do anything.”

“Stede, c’mon, I don’t want to argue-” Ed’s arms slipped off of Stede’s shoulders.

“You can do anything ,” Stede repeated stubbornly. “Do this. Come with me. You’re so brave- why does this scare you so much?”

“Because it’s you!” Ed raised his voice. “I don’t care much what happens to me- or, I didn’t care,” he added quickly, before Stede had a chance to object, “not the way I care now. I always figured, life’s short, and if I ruin my life, fine. Fine! But I can’t- I couldn’t handle it if I did that to you.”

Stede’s breath punched out of him, and he wrapped his arms around his own chest for comfort. “I don’t feel ruined.” 

Ed turned away from Stede’s face, like he was unwilling to look at whatever he saw there. But Stede countered and stepped in front of him again, knowing this could be his last chance to get through to him. 

“Ed, I’m gay.” 

It was easy to say it. No, it was effortless. Stede hadn't even screwed up his courage to say it, the words just tumbled out his mouth. There was more coming, another bout of compulsive truth-telling, as if he was still bound under the oath he swore in court that day. 

“You know that already. I didn't know it 'til, well, until you. Not really. But I think I've always been gay, same as you." He hesitated, unsure how to properly express the thoughts flying through his head. "If you think staying away from me is going to turn back the clock, or, or- make me forget - you’re wrong. Ed, I don't want anybody but you. I love you. And I’ll keep loving you, I think, even if I never see you again-” his voice broke at the idea, “But I’m not going to go back to the way things were, just because you’re not around."

“That’s a hell of a thing to say, mate,” Ed barked out in disbelief. “I don’t want to hear that shit.”

Stede winced, realizing how it sounded. “No- I just meant-”

“What, you want me to picture you with some other guy? Get mad, get jealous-”

“No!” Stede backtracked, his face scorching with embarrassment. “It came out wrong, that’s not what I meant. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

He watched Ed’s shoulders slowly come down from where they were hackled up defensively. Breathe, Ed, he wanted to say, but he kept his mouth shut, terrified of saying the wrong thing yet again. Finally, Ed smoothed his hand over his hair and took a deep breath. Then another.

“I’m sorry, too. Honest. I just- I don’t want to talk about it any more, all right? I don’t want to fight with you. Not when-”

Stede understood. Not when they had so little time left. 

+++

Stede was already packed, so the rest of his afternoon was spent reading a magazine in the bathtub, trying his hardest not to think about the mess he’d made out of his own heart. 

Figuring there would be safety in numbers, he joined a few of the new boarders in a pre-dinner drink, sipping a glass of brandy and halfway listening to their life stories.

“I understand your divorce was finalized this afternoon, is that right?” asked a man with a kind voice and black eyes whose name Stede had already forgotten.

“That’s right,” he answered, although he could scarcely believe it had been that very same day. “Went off without a hitch.”

The dark-eyed man raised his glass. “I don’t drink alcohol- would it be inappropriate to toast to your good fortune with a Coca-Cola?”

“Not at all,” Stede smiled, and Abshir- Stede remembered his name!- smiled back.

“To the ‘Reno Cure’,” Abshir raised his glass. “And to new beginnings.”

+++

His final supper at the ranch passed in a blur. Stede made his best effort at smalltalk, telling the newer arrivals at the divorce ranch that no, he hadn’t done much gambling this summer, and yes, wasn’t Nevada air good for the constitution? He successfully avoided staring at Ed, he thought, although he caught Herb’s inscrutable eye more than once.

When it was all over and the table was cleared, Stede offered a handshake to young Walter. “It’s been a pleasure getting to know you, Walt,” he offered, wondering idly if he was supposed to tip the boy.

“Sure,” Walt answered blithely, “and likewise- but we can say our goodbyes in the morning, when I drop you at the station.” 

Stede was taken aback. “Oh! But I thought-” and instinctively he glanced in the direction of the kitchen, as if he could look through the walls and see Ed washing the dishes there.

“Yeah, well, Pop and Ed have to install the new generator tomorrow morning,” the teenager shrugged, “so…”

Before Stede could respond, Herb wandered out of the kitchen and approached them. He cleared his throat and offered his own hand to Stede. “I wish you only the best in California, Doctor Bonnet.” he said, looking him straight in the eye. “I truly mean that.”

Stede’s cheeks pinked with discomfort as he tried to suss out the hidden meaning in Herb’s words. It didn’t sound like passive-aggression, not as he knew it, anyhow, but Stede never had been very good at hearing underlying messages.

Herb was standing squarely between Stede and the kitchen door. Whether it was intentional or not was lost on Stede, but he couldn’t help glancing over the older man’s shoulder, half-expecting Ed to come out to offer his own handshake and a cool goodbye.

Walt looked between the two men with rapidly-depleting interest and scuffed his foot on the floorboard. “Right,” Stede said at last. “Thanks. Thanks to both of you,” he added for Walt’s sake. “Now, I suppose I should-” he turned a quarter of the way toward the staircase, to signal his intention.

“Of course,” Herb smiled, “have a good night.”

“See you in the morning!” Walt added as Stede made his way up the stairs.

Stede retreated to his bedroom. It was stripped down as bare as it was when he first arrived, and if it weren't for all the luggage, stacked high in the corner like a cairn, there would be no sign that Stede Bonnet had ever passed through. He wandered the room idly, commiting little details to memory, when a light moving through the blinds caught his eye. 

From where Stede was standing, he could just see the spot where the long gravel driveway of the ranch joined the main road, and it was easy to recognize the distinctive headlights of Ed's pickup truck as he drove away from the ranch.

Stede craned his neck to watch the Chevy turn right at the road- toward town, he knew. Where was Ed headed? To Benji’s Barroom, seeking a sympathetic ear? Somewhere else? Or was he just driving for the sake of it, hoping to clear his head?

It was none of Stede’s business. It was none of his business , now, what Ed did with his time. But that didn’t stop Stede from spending his last night in Reno waiting and watching like Penelope on the Ithican shore, wondering when his man- when a man- no, when his man would come home. 

He didn't wait terribly long before he spied the Chevy’s headlights returning in the window- only an hour or two. Briefly, he considered shrugging on his robe and slippers and meeting Ed downstairs. Less briefly, he imagined hearing a single creak on the stair, a shallow knock on his door, and a soft, repentant voice whispering ‘ Stede ’. He would open the door, just a crack at first, but as soon as Ed crossed his threshold they would-

No.

Stede had an early morning tomorrow, and a long day of travel, the first in a series of long unknown days stretching out ahead of Stede. He ought to be well-rested for it.

So Stede slipped his sleep mask on, wrapped the sheets to his shoulders and waited for sleep to take him, alone but not alone, trying to keep his mind clear of any thoughts of Edward Teach.

+++

In the bathroom, Stede’s shaving cream, aftershave, pomades and lotions were still lined up on the counter like a row of loyal soldiers. One by one, he packed them up carefully into his shaving kit, then he zipped the whole thing up and carried it into the bedroom. He had just nestled it into his final suitcase when he heard the soft, rhythmic rap of knuckles on wood.

His heart leapt at the sound, and he almost tripped rushing to open the door.

“Ed!” he cried as the door swung open.

“Er,” Walt mumbled in surprise, blinking up at Stede. “Nope. They’re already out back. It’s time to, uh-” and he gestured past Stede, at the stack of turquoise trunks towering in the corner.

Stede ducked his head to hide his blush. “Of course- help yourself,” he said, and he slunk downstairs to make himself a cup of tea.

Despite his desire to see Ed at work, Stede drank his tea alone in the kitchen, scowling at the Wednesday crossword puzzle that he couldn’t bear to solve. When Walt poked his head through the kitchen door frame, Stede forced a smile and asked, “Is it time?”

“Pretty much, yeah.” Walt said. “Ready when you are.”

Stede was as ready as he was ever going to be. But when he stepped out the front door of Orange Sky Ranch, he could see a shallow path in the dirt that hadn’t been there the day before. Unable to help himself, he followed the path around the side of the building, and sure enough, Ed and Herb were carefully rolling a dolly with a heavy-looking piece of machinery balanced on top. 

Herb saw Stede watching and nodded, then said something inaudible to his stepson. Ed stood up straighter, and for a second, Stede thought he wouldn’t turn around. But then he did. He looked at Stede, standing across the dry dirt field, and Stede held his gaze for a moment before raising his hand in a sort of immobile wave. Ed copied the gesture. Maybe he would have done more. Maybe he was about to run through the field and sweep Stede off of his feet, there in front of his family and all, but Stede would never know. He turned away, unable to watch for another moment.

“Shall we?” he asked Walt as he fiddled with the cuffs of his shirt, his voice light with artificial cheer.

Saying farewell to Walt was easy enough. The boy was bright, and he had surely noticed that something was amiss between Ed and Stede, but he was also bright enough to avoid sticking his nose into his half-brother's personal business. 

They made small-talk on the drive to the train depot, but Stede hardly paid any attention at all. He was distracted, subtly raking his fingertips across the leather derailing on the Chevy’s bench seat, hoping he could commit it to memory. 

“You’re a funny guy, Doctor Bonnet,” Walt declared, after all of Stede’s luggage was handed off to the station porters. “It’s been swell having you around.”

Stede gave a self-deprecating snort. “I’m not sure anybody’s ever called me funny before.”

“I dunno,” the teenager shrugged. “I just mean- y’know. You and Ed were always laughing about something or other. In the mornings.”

Six weeks of mornings, soft and sweet, came back to Stede all at once. He coughed into his fist, if only to hide the look of surprise and affection he knew must be on his face, plain as day. 

"Goodness," he said, "I didn't realize we were as loud as all that."

Walt shrugged again- his favorite gesture. "It was just a little laughing," he said. "No big deal."

They said their final pleasantries, and then Stede pressed a generous tip into Walt's hand and gave a genuine little smile at the boy’s incredulity. 

“Thanks, Doctor Bonnet,” Walt kept repeating with wide eyes and a wider grin. He was grinning all the way across the parking lot, when he hopped up into the driver’s seat of the Chevy and drove away, waving through the window like a kid much younger than seventeen.

The train platform was practically empty now. Two women- an elderly mother and her grown daughter, Stede imagined- were perched together on a bench, both digging through the same large purse and bickering. The rest of the passengers had already made their way on board the train, a beautiful chrome-and-orange thing- the very same train, in fact, that Stede had taken out from Chicago at the beginning of the summer.

It was easy to remember the trepidation he felt when he boarded it at Union Station, so unsure of his plan, yet so determined to become a new man. Well, Stede had certainly succeeded, hadn’t he? He tried, for the hundredth time, to convince himself that everything with Ed had unfolded in the only way it ever could have. There was a certain poeticism to it- that Stede needed to have his heart properly broken in order to learn how to properly listen to it. One day, he hoped he could believe it. 

Feeling dejected, he took a step toward the train, then turned around impulsively to take one last look at the vivid billboards and neon signs that crested over the sun-bleached roof of the train depot. His eyes flicked around the skyline, taking in the bright colors that were everywhere in Reno. 

Amidst all the light and color, an unexpected spot of black caught his eye. 

Not in the skyline- no, the dark spot was right at eye level, pushing its way out of the heavy glass doors of the train depot, in the form of black denim pants, black boots, and a smartly-fitted black work shirt. 

Breathe, Stede, a voice in the back of his head reminded him. Whether it was Ed’s voice or his own, he couldn’t tell any more. But he breathed nonetheless. 

It took every ounce of Stede’s self control not to run and throw himself into Ed’s arms like a matinee movie star. But he made himself wait, right there by the train, and bit his lips to hide the intensity of his smile, lest he blind Ed right on the spot.

“You came,” Stede said, once Ed was standing in front of him. Relief cascaded through his body. “You’re here.”

A thin sheen of sweat was gathering at Ed’s hairline. “I took the bus. God, I thought I might miss you. I have to-” abruptly, he dug into his shirt pocket, right over his heart, and pulled something out with delicate care. “You forgot this. You, uh- you left it at the ranch.” He offered his hand and looked away, as if embarrassed by his own gesture. 

In his palm, the glossy red stone of the bolo tie caught the sun. 

Stede had to laugh a little at how transparent it all was. He reached out to meet the outstretched hand, but he just closed Ed’s fingers around the stone, savoring the roughness of Ed’s knuckles on his fingertips. “I bought that for you, and you know it.”

A little shrug was Ed’s only concession. “Yeah, man, but it didn’t feel right keeping it, considering-”

“It's yours, Ed. It will always be yours." Their eyes met. "Why did you really come out here?” Stede shocked himself with his own candor, but the train was reverberating behind him, and there was something liberating about knowing that you were taking your very last chance.

It worked, too. Ed raised his eyebrows in surprise at the question, but when he answered, it was with perfect honesty. “Last night… We didn't get the chance to say goodbye. After dinner, I went for a drive to clear my head, I lost track of time. I just-” he cleared his throat. “I wanted to say goodbye.”

Stede bit his lips. “Well, here I am.” 

“Yeah.” 

For a moment, they stood facing each other, Ed’s hand still hovering between them. Then he seemed to make up his mind, and slid the bolo carefully back into his front pocket.

The gesture reminded Stede of something he couldn’t quite place. “So?”

Ed cocked his head in confusion. “So?” he repeated.

“You wanted to say goodbye,” Stede reminded him.

“Right.”

Still, he didn’t say it. He didn’t say anything, in fact, he just looked at Stede with an expression that almost looked like defeat. Stede glanced around the platform- the two women on the bench were hobbling up the stairs to the train, and the station master was off in his own world, staring off into the distance with a tranquil look. Satisfied with their privacy, Stede stepped closer and touched Ed’s forearm, the lightest, smallest connection. “Ed, I don’t want to say goodbye either.”

Ed swore under his breath. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be, man.” But he didn’t step away, and neither did Stede.

“Come with me.” Stede couldn’t stop trying. Not as long as Ed was in front of him. Not ever.

“Stede, I can’t,” Ed choked out.

“You’re Ed Teach,” Stede reminded him. “You can do anything, remember?”

Ed looked over his shoulder and lowered his voice. “Nah. I can’t keep you safe out there. Not really.”

“No, you’re right,” Stede agreed easily. “You can’t keep me safe. But you can keep me company. You can keep me warm at night,” he dared to add, and stepped in closer than was strictly appropriate. “You can keep making me happy. You can let me make you happy.”

They were standing near enough together that Stede could feel the warm huff of Ed’s breath when he sighed. “You make it sound easy. But if word got out about us, and you got fired? Or- or what if the raids picked up again- what if you got arrested, Stede, what then?” 

“If the worst happened, I’d certainly prefer it if you were there to keep the lights on for me. Just like I would do for you.” He watched Ed’s hand instinctively flutter to his chest and land there, like he was protecting his heart. 

The sound of clanging bells filled the air, a warning that the train’s departure was imminent. Stede had to raise his voice to be heard over the din. “I’m getting on the train now, Ed. I think you should come with me.”

“Yeah, I know you do,” Ed grumbled, but his hands were still clutched over his heart as he watched Stede climb the steep stairs to the raised, open-air vestibule of the train compartment. 

A pang of sentimentality hit Stede when he turned around to face Ed again. “This is how I first saw you,” he murmured, “From the top of the stairs. Do you remember?”

They were the last people left on the platform now. “I remember,” Ed said. “I thought I was gonna get a crick in my neck from staring at you up there.” Bemused, he shook his head. “Six weeks ago, can you believe it?”

“Ancient history,” Stede smiled and leaned against the edge of the train door. “I can’t tell you what’s going to happen in the future, Ed. My world has already changed so much, in just six weeks. Who’s to say it can’t keep changing? Maybe there’s trouble ahead. Or maybe this -” He looked back down at Ed, who was gazing up at him in open, unguarded wonder. “Maybe all of this will get easier for- for people like us. I don’t know. But I sure would like to find out together. Wouldn’t you?”

Ed choked back something that sounded like a sob. He lifted his eyes toward the vast Nevada sky, as if the answers were waiting for him there. "Stede. I don’t- I can’t jump on the train with the clothes on my back and some pocket change. This is crazy." 

“A little bit crazy, yes.” Stede allowed. “But we can work out the details on the train.”

There was motion behind Ed’s eyes now- gears turning, ideas being formed in that brilliant brain of his. “One day- when the time is right- I’ll come out there. I will.”

Stede was tired of waiting for his life to begin. "Get on the train, Ed," he pleaded, then shot out an arm to stabilize himself as the train shuddered and made its first lurch forward. He spoke more quickly now. "Just ride with me until the next stop, then you can turn right around if you still want to. But I think we can figure this out."

"That's a forty minute ride, mate." Ed took a big step backwards, and then another. "What are we gonna get settled in forty minutes?"

Stede grinned. "I'm a fast talker."

Ed kept walking backwards, keeping pace with the slow crawl of the train, but they both knew the platform was running out. "Send me a postcard when you get there, put your phone number on it."

"They have postcards on the train," Stede told him. "Send one yourself."

The muscles in Ed’s jaw flexed. “You really want me to run off to California right now- no word, no nothing?” 

Stede shook his head and held out his hand. It was an offer, it was a promise. 

"C’mon, Stede, is that really what you want?"

Stede wanted forever. He wanted to make a life with Ed, a long one, until there was nobody left who had ever known them apart. "Right now? I just want a little more time with you, Ed."

The beginning of a smile rose on Ed's face, hopeful as the rising sun. He chuckled at the absurdity of it all, then squared his shoulders and took Stede's offered hand.

Palm to palm, Stede pulled Ed onto the step of the train. For a moment, they were cheek to cheek, chest to chest, just like they were slow dancing again. Then Stede pulled back and grinned. Ed grinned, too, and then carefully turned around, so that he and Stede were facing the same direction, nestled there in the vestibule of the train.

Maybe they would stay together for forty more minutes, or maybe for forty more years. But for now, at least, they had each other. And neither of them was in any hurry to let go.

Together, they looked forward as the train picked up speed, facing a completely unknown future, as Reno grew smaller behind them.

Chapter Text

Postcard text: Pretty fancy, huh? I don’t think I’ll be back by the weekend to help with the bar. Sorry Iz. PS - Stede told me what you said to him at the wedding. You old sap.
Postcard address: Mr. I. Hands, 2411 Sherman Ave, Reno NV 89511

Postcard text: Happy & healthy here in Claremont. Thinking of family more than ever, but celebrating Christmas with old and new friends is fine and dandy. I’ll call you soon. And I will see you in the spring! - Edward

Postcard address: Packer Family, 120070 Old Virginia Road, Reno NV 89251

Postcard text: S- Walt was all smiles at his graduation - You should have seen Herb cheer! Also cheering: Walt’s steady girlfriend. Must discuss this development back at home. Miss you. Be good. I’ll be home soon. Yours, E.
Postcard address: Stede Bonnet 779 W Jenkins St, Claremont, CA, 91711

Postcard text: The game was far out!!! Ed likes Linda a lot. He was over the moon to hear about the baby on the way, like you thought. He sends his best. P.S. Stede sends his best too. I think California agrees with both of them. [Written but messily crossed out: Maybe if you visit] Walt

Postcard address: Herbert Packer, 120070 Old Virginia Road, Reno NV 89251

Postcard text: Lucius - I imagine that by the [words covered by a stamp] [time this] reaches you, Ed and I will already be home. Regardless, thank you for feeding Arthur in our absence. The boy on the fountain is the merman Triton. He reminds me of you - note the gusto with which he blows the conch. Dr. S. Bonnet 7/06/63

Postcard address: Lucius Spriggs, 8229 Vigalondo Blvd, Los Angeles, CA, 9046, USA

Postcard text: [black ink:] E.T. & S.B. - Looks like we found the one street more bent than the two of you

[blue ink] You see, he can be funny sometimes!

[black ink] Thank you for loaning us your San Francisco guidebooks, and for showing us around L.A. - I.H. & B.H.

[blue ink] Stede - We’ll mail back the books as soon as we’re back in Reno, please don’t drive yourself crazy worrying about them. Both - Thanks again for playing host, it was a perfect weekend. Benji

Postcard address: Edward Teach, Stede Bonnet, 779 W Jenkins St. Claremont, CA 91711

Card text: Sweet Stede for her 40th Birthday  - Even though I am tragically far away on your special day, rest assured I will be thinking of you, my favorite wizened old hag, every single minute all day. (I’ll send you my analyst’s invoice) Edward already has my gift to you in custody, if he hasn’t stolen it for himself already. With love from… Once upon a time your assistant, sometimes your friend, always your sister, your very own - Lucius Clarence Spriggs

Card text:  Ed you rascal - Walt heard Sheila telling the Santa Claus at the Sears that “Uncle E and Stee” promised her a trip to Disneyland for Christmas. I would LOVE to hear the details of this brilliant plan. You know our phone number! All our love to you and yours, the Packers

Postcard text: I  wish you were here, darling!  The city is vibrating. Last night, Lucius dragged me out to some of his regular haunts- this play he wrote is gaining a reputation in "the downtown circles",  as he calls them, and everybody seems to know his name.  Of course, he's insufferable about his newfound “fame”. You should see some of these artistes- we thought his friends in Hollywood were eccentric, but this crowd is nonpareil! I miss you, I love you, be good. Your Stede.

Postcard address: Edward Teach, 779 W Jenkins St, Claremont, CA 91711

Postcard text: Herb - it only took 10 years of talking about it, but here we are!  You'd like it here. Mom is present everywhere I look- I can't stop taking photos.  This morning, we went  to the church and lit a candle for her, just like you asked.  We head to Akaroka tomorrow. Guess I'll find out if Stede is a better sailor on this side of the Pacific than he is at home. Fingers crossed! 

Merry Christmas, Ed + Stede (December 16 1970 - in Stede's handwriting)

Postcard address: Herbert Packer 120070 Old Virginia Road, Reno NV 89251