Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Ed has been coasting for a long time, going from photoshoot to photoshoot like a ghost. Perfume ads, fashion spreads, photo shoots of celebrities and political figures. He used to love photography, but now it’s all the same shit, different day, and it’s boring him to tears. The money’s nice, but there’s got to be more to life, right?

There had been a time when he’d wanted more out of his career. He’d cared about making art, and his artistic alias “Blackbeard” really meant something in that world. He’d had gallery and museum showings all over the place. He’s still making art, stuff he doesn’t share because he’s been pigeonholed as a fashion guy, but he doesn’t have enough time to devote to it.

None of the stuff Ed shoots for money is art, or even fun. It’s pure pretentious bullshit. He’d pack it all in and retire and just go off and photograph nature anonymously. He has enough money invested, but even the fuss of that doesn’t seem worth the time or effort. He lets Izzy book all his gigs because he doesn’t care what it is he shoots anymore.

It’s Sunday night, and Ed is going over the schedule Izzy has given him for the coming week, out of mild curiosity and so he knows where and when to show up each day. Most of it looks bog standard: another fucking perfume ad, up-and-coming starlet, leg model…

What, what the hell? The schedule for Wednesday reads, “Stede Bonnet: Leg Model. For Échappée (cycling gear).”

Ed grabs his phone to text Izzy.

Ed: wtf is a leg model

Izzy: I don’t fucking know, but Echappee is paying enough so you’re doing it

Stede Bonnet is an unusual name… why does it sound vaguely familiar? Ed opens his browser.

The first hit is an article called “Stede ‘Legs’ Bonnet: First-Time Olympian and Internet Sensation at Age 40.” Ed clicks on it and is confronted with a picture of a smiling cyclist about his age.

Ed feels like the “oh no, he’s hot” meme personified.

Fluffy blond hair, sparkling hazel eyes, and a barrel chest, all encased in sinfully tight lycra. The face is… fuck, it’s a really good face. Kind.

The legs, though… incredibly toned and sculpted. Thick, strong thighs. Insanely curved calves. Ed wants to wear them like earmuffs.

Am I a leg man now?

Though, to be fair, with this guy, Ed is finding himself to be an everything man.

Ed quickly scans the article—it appears that Stede qualified for the Olympics for the first time at age 40, after joining the sport officially a couple of years before. He’d left his boring corporate job in favor of training, and it paid off. Stede didn’t medal, but he’d been something of a sensation due to his inspiring story, and because (and Ed is just guessing here) of his stunning good looks.

Ed scans the rest of the hits on the first page. Since the Games, Stede had spun his brief notoriety into brand endorsements heavily featuring his legs. There’s also a rumor going around that he has each one insured for six figures.

Digging further, Ed looks into some of his previous print work. You know, for research purposes, to see what kind of model he’s getting. Ed finds all kinds of stuff: him by a boat, wearing shorts, a suit top, and deck shoes(The preppy thing, which never usually does anything for Ed, suits him). Him in cycling gear, doing leg stretches(Woof). Him in tiny, tight red shorts, highlighting a very nice bulge indeed(Woof woof woof).

And as it happens, this guy is really fucking photogenic, and it’s not just the famous legs—he seems to radiate an inner light. Yeah, Ed finds him attractive, but there’s also something about him that makes Ed itch to find out more about him.

Moving on to the guy’s socials, Ed discovers that he makes TikToks that are half inspirational, half fitness tips, and all thirst traps. Ed clicks on the most recent one, which features Stede, in a close-up, encouraging his followers to hit their fitness goals. “You are stronger than you imagine,” he tells the viewer, hazel eyes crinkling as he smiles. Ed has to play that one over a few times.

Ed keeps scrolling through Stede’s feed, and he’s not ashamed to admit that a few of the other videos get quite a few replays: Stede on one of those Pilates machine thingies, circling his legs in the air. Stede doing leg stretches, bending one knee to the side and then the other as the toned muscles of his thighs flex.

And, oh fuck, Stede doing a downward dog in tight yoga pants. Ed needs a few minutes to cool off after that one.

Next, Ed clicks on a video interview after his Olympic race. When asked why he started to compete at an advanced age, he replied, “Well, my ex-wife and I had just separated—no, it’s alright, our parents pushed us together but we’re not, er, exactly compatible. Anyway, she said, ‘We only have this one life,’ and that just resonated with me, you know? I’d always wanted to do this but was told I was dreaming. Fortunately, I had the time and money to train, and well, here I am. I wanted to show people that it’s not too late to chase your dreams.”

This guy trained for the Olympics as a sort of post-divorce crisis? And actually qualified? Seems like a fascinating lunatic. Suddenly, Ed’s Wednesday is looking much more interesting.

~~~~~

When Wednesday rolls around, Ed takes extra care with his hair (half up), beard (neatly trimmed), and clothing (leather pants and jacket and tight purple tee). He breaks out his favorite cologne for the first time in recent memory. For no particular reason, though. Nope nope nope.

Okay, fine, Ed may have a teeny tiny crush. If obsessively googling someone and reading all his interviews and watching all his videos can be described as a “teeny tiny crush.” The man turns out to be a ray of sunshine encased in gorgeous human form—his endless positivity should be cheesy, but Ed wraps himself in it like a warm blanket every evening as he lounges in bed and scrolls TikTok.

In one video, Stede is jogging, and he waves at the camera adorably and says, “Come on, you can do it, put your back into it! Make sure you move your bodies today!”

Dork. That doesn’t stop Ed from wanting to move his body, preferably against Stede’s, though.

From the comments on each video, Ed sees that he’s not alone. A lot of the comments are thirsty, whether they’re from middle-aged women sighing over him or younger folks calling him “DILF” or even stuff like “fitness daddy.”

The more Ed finds out about this man, the more fucking fascinated he is. Ed’s favorite is a profile in Out magazine done soon after the Olympics, entitled “The Gentleman Cyclist.” It features several lovely pictures of Stede in a bright blue suit and sunglasses, as well as a goofy-but-hot picture of him lying on a bed in black boxer briefs with his legs up in the air, grinning at the camera with his arms wide. Ed both admires and deeply envies the person who got to take these shots.

And if Ed’s also gotten himself off a few times imagining rolling around that bed with Stede, well, that’s his own business.

Stede had been something of a mentor to the younger athletes during his stay at the Olympic Village in Tokyo, especially the queer ones. The pandemic had made the Games unusually tense and stressful, and Stede is described as having been a calming influence, leading the younger folks in daily meditation and yoga. He also acted as something of a surrogate parent for the younger ones whose parents weren’t allowed to attend due to Covid. In recognition, Stede had been unanimously voted as the US team flag-bearer in the Closing Ceremony.

The article also describes how he came out after qualifying for the Olympics, inspired by his divorce and the death of his homophobic father to start living his truth. It’s sad to think of Stede in the closet. His socials have given Ed the impression of someone who is unabashedly himself all the time. It sounds like he’d had to hide his light under a bushel for years.

Maybe it’s not too late to change your life. Ed finds Stede truly inspiring, as well as deliciously sexy.

Ed can’t help but have some hope that maybe he can attract Stede’s attention during their shoot. But only a little hope. Surely this man would never see anything in a grumpy, bored sad sack like Ed? Still, it’s enough hope for Ed to up his clothing and grooming game for the day.

~~~~~

When Ed gets to the shooting location, his longtime assistant Izzy and his apprentice assistant Jim are already setting up on a road in the woods near a beautiful little lake. It’s a gorgeous, bright, sunny day—perfect for shooting.

Ed laughs when he sees Izzy—he looks pissed. Aggravated is his baseline look, but he seems to be a few steps beyond that, and it’s not even 9 a.m. yet.

“Hey,” Ed greets him. “What’s going on?”

“Bonnet is here,” Izzy says.

Thinking about it for a moment, Ed realizes that Izzy and Stede, from what Ed’s seen of him, are definitely like oil and water.

“Pissed you off already, huh?”

“That twat insisted on warming up right where we want to shoot, insisting that he needed to soak up the ‘vibes,’ whatever the fuck that means.” Out of the corner of his eye, Ed catches Jim smirking. “He was out here doing yoga or some shit right where we needed to set up,” Izzy continues.

Shit, did Ed miss Stede doing downward dog in real life? That image arrests him for a moment before he shakes it away.

“Now we’re half an hour behind schedule. We’re going to lose the light later on. And he demanded some kind of weird kombucha to drink. Jim had to waste twenty minutes trying to find it.”

“No big deal, Iz. You know models have their own sense of time.” Ed tries to sound casual as he asks, “So where can I find him? Figure I should say hi.”

Jim looks over at him in surprise. Ed doesn’t usually ask to meet the talent. “Brought his own trailer.” They jerk their head towards a trailer about one hundred feet away. Ed turns in that direction, ignoring Izzy yelling at him to come back.

“Edward, get the fuck back here! We need to discuss the timeline!”

“Figure it out! ‘S why I pay you!”

Ed’s got a hot blond to meet. Pausing to fuss with his hair and straighten his t-shirt, Ed takes a deep breath and knocks on the trailer door.

“Coming!” Stede’s voice is cheerful. He opens the door open and… oh fucking christ on a cracker.

Stede’s hair is damp and curling from a recent shower. He smells of a heady mix of lavender and citrus. He’s wearing… fuck, Ed almost chokes… a short, silky gold dressing gown. It only hits his mid-thigh, so the famous legs are on display.

Strong, toned, freckled.

Ed almost needs to grab the door frame to steady himself. Instead, by some tremendous effort of will, he puts on his most flirtatious face and asks in a low voice, “The Gentleman Cyclist, I presume?”

A look of happy surprise breaks over Stede’s face. “You’ve heard of me?”

“Oh, I’ve heard all about you. I’m Ed.” He holds out his hand, which Stede’s warm, strong fingers immediately grip. Stede’s eyes go wide as he subtly checks Ed out. Oh, Ed is in so much trouble.

“Ed…? Oh, of course, you’re Blackbeard! I’m honored that you agreed to shoot our little campaign—I’m a big fan!”

Ed blinks. “You’re a fan… of a fashion photographer?”

“Ah, well you’re not just that! I remember seeing your series at MoMA ten or so years ago. The one showing storms on the water? ‘Oncoming Storm’? It’s always stuck with me. The images were so evocative.” Stede smiles at him, still gripping his hand, and Ed has that dizzy feeling again.

Ed’s in trouble. Fortunately, he fucking loves trouble.

“Oh, I’ve been so rude!” Stede suddenly exclaims. “Please, do come in.” He drops Ed’s hand and backs aside so Ed can enter the trailer—Ed feels a little colder at the loss of the contact between them.

After Ed closes the door behind himself, he stops and looks around the trailer in surprise. It’s filled with decorations and trinkets that look personal. “So this trailer’s yours?” There’s a thick, plush teal rug, a day bed with lots of pillows in blues and greens—are they made of silk? There are two (two!) tiny chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Ed also clocks a small stove with tea-making equipment. Fuck, is that a fake or a real fireplace? “This place is fucking incredible.”

Stede blushes adorably. “Ah, yes. I like my creature comforts when I’m on the job. I know it’s a bit much….”

“No way, man! Look at all this cool shit!” Ed walks over and picks up a ship in the bottle off the mantel. “Did you make this?”

“Well sussed!” Stede grins again, and it must be infectious because Ed feels himself grinning too. He didn’t know those muscles in his face still worked. Stede continues, “I’m afraid I have a bit of an obsession with the ocean and ships.” He pauses, then adds, “It’s a little nauti of me.” He giggles at his little dad joke, and Ed remembers reading that he has two kids.

Shit, is Stede flirting in the most DILF-y way possible?

Ed sure hopes so (Also, damn, he wishes he could shoot Stede on a boat now. Maybe in nothing but a pair of Speedos).

Leaning against the mantel, Ed winks. “I sea what you did there, mate.” Gesturing around, Ed adds, “I love the ocean too, as you probably guessed from my storm photos. Fucking love your decor.”

“Well, I do like to make a splash,” Stede replies, stepping closer to Ed.

Ed moves a little closer as well. “I like it. A man’s gotta set his own course in life.”

“I do try to do that,” Stede says. “Even if it’s not a straight course….?” There’s a little question in his voice, and he’s biting his lip.

Excellent.

“The straight course is overrated.” Ed allows his eyes to rake Stede up and down. “And you can rock my boat anytime, captain.”

Stede’s cheeks flush red again—Ed would love to see how many times a day he can make that happen. “Well, that’s—”

There’s a knock on the door, then Jim’s voice. “Ed, we’ll be ready in about 10 minutes.”

Ah, right. They’re here to work.

“Got it!” Ed calls out in reply. “Guess I should, uh, get out of your way, let you finish getting ready.”

Stede looks a little disappointed but nods. “I need to finish my hair—I don’t let anyone else touch it.”

Ed moves toward the door, but he looks at Stede one more time. He can’t detect any flaws in the head of golden curls, though his hands itching to disarrange them. “Your hair looks fucking perfect to me.” Stede’s lips part in surprise before he smiles, and it’s like staring into the sun.

Ed’s pretty sure this short interaction has changed his life in some way. Just how remains to be seen.

~~~~~

Ed feels unusually nervous as he spends the next ten minutes half listening to Izzy harangue him as he checks the light metering and other equipment settings.

They’re going to shoot Stede wearing several different outfits from Échappée’s new line of cycling gear. In addition to print ads and a commercial Stede’s shooting separately, there’s going to be a spread in Men’s Health as well—paid content by the brand. Ed’s happy that he’s going to shoot Stde here in his element—on the road with his bike, but by a stunning forest. The natural setting will only enhance the man’s good looks, by Ed’s reckoning.

When Stede emerges from his trailer, he’s still wearing the gold dressing gown, but Ed can see that he’s put his cycling shoes on. His hair is perhaps slightly fluffier than it was a few minutes ago.

“Hey, Stede,” Ed greets him as he approaches. “We’re just finishing setting up the first shot. It should only take a couple minutes.”

“Sounds good to me!” Stede answers in a chipper tone as he approaches the chair that’s been set aside for him. He unties his robe, takes it off, and puts it over the back of the chair. “I’m just going to go check my bike over. I figure we’ll want some action shots! Safety first!”

Ed hardly registers what the man is saying, and nearly drops the camera he’s holding. Stede is wearing the tiniest, most ridiculously tight pair of black biking shorts in creation, topped by a hot pink sleeveless top that’s also very, very tight.

Miles of leg. BICEPS. Holy fuck.

Ed’s pretty sure he’s gawking at the man as he moves over towards the bike, but he can’t stop himself. He needs to lay down. Shit, Izzy is speaking and giving him a weird look.

Focus.

“Edward!” Ed rips his eyes away from Stede’s retreating form.

“What?”

“You remember our first rule, right? No hitting on the talent,” Izzy hisses. “Especially not this twat.”

“That ship has sailed, Iz.” Ed smirks to himself at his nautical joke, but of course, it’s lost on Izzy.

Izzy sputters, but before he can yell at Ed some more, Stede looks over his shoulder at Ed, then bends over to check his bike chain. Like a man possessed, Ed ignores Iz and walks over in Stede’s direction.

“Think we’re about ready for you, Stede,” Ed calls out.

I’m ready for you.

Stede straightens up, turns around, and smiles at Ed. There are a bunch of other people milling around, but Ed only has eyes for Stede.

Oh, this is happening.

~~~~~

Look, Ed’s shot a lot of hot guys in his life. Some hotter than Stede. Well, scratch that. He’s pretty sure this is the hottest person he’s ever seen, and he’s an expert. Anyway, Ed’s even slept with some of the incredibly hot people he’s photographed. But never before has he had a consistent, warm hum of arousal deep in his groin throughout a shoot. Sometimes, between shots, Ed looks up from his camera to Stede’s eyes on him. Ed doesn’t think he’s imagining that Stede is eye-fucking him. Thankfully, his leathers can hide a semi.

It’s getting hot out here, too. Ed removes his jacket, drapes it over his seat, and stretches his arms up over his head. He clocks how Stede’s eyes widen when his t-shirt rides up.

Got him.

Échappée seems to have chosen outfits specifically tailored to highlight Stede’s, well… everything. After the first outfit, it all just gets worse and worse. Or better and better, depending on your point of view. The brand’s new motto should be “Torturing Ed Teach.”

There’s a lycra onesie that leaves Stede’s arms bare and does nothing to hide his prominent bulge. Ed gets him to do some of his leg stretches in that one.

Then, Stede puts on a more traditional longer pair of biking shorts and a zip-up, long-sleeve top. Which Ed encourages him to unzip, bit by bit, until it’s completely open, revealing enticing pink nipples.

Somewhere nearby, Izzy mutters, “For fuck’s sake.” Jim snorts.

By the time Ed realizes that the line Stede is expected to model also includes skimpy swimwear, specifically designed for triathletes, Ed’s soul leaves his body. When Stede emerges in that outfit, he shoots Ed a glance full of heat. He knows how good he looks, the cheeky bastard.

A man can only take so much. Ed wants to lick Stede all over. Or marry him. Ideally both.

When they take an afternoon break, Stede asks Izzy, “Have you seen my kombucha?”

“No, I have not seen your fucking kombucha. Find it your own damn self.”

“What’s got your knickers in a twist, Iggy?”

“It’s Izzy,” he hisses before storming off in a huff.

Stede shrugs. “Whatever, I don’t care.”

Ed’s ray of sunshine is also a massive bitch. He wants to drag Stede off into his trailer and do unspeakable things to him, but they have a shoot to finish.

Finally, they make it through all the outfits Échappée wanted to shoot, and the work day is ending. While Izzy and Jim start packing up all the equipment, Stede heads over to his trailer to change back into his regular clothes. He shoots a glance over his shoulder at Ed as he goes.

For a moment, Ed is frozen, rooted to the ground beneath his feet. He wants to follow Stede and ask to see him again. He has a strong sense that he would be welcome, but he’s never been so nervous about approaching anyone in his life.

Then Ed thinks of his life, and how bored he’s been lately—how he’s been waiting for something, anything, to change. He’s getting to be middle-aged now, and nothing is new, or exciting. He’s been slowly dying on the vine. For whatever reason, Stede feels like something brand new. Something Ed’s always been reaching for but has never been able to grasp before.

Fuck it. We only have this one life, right?

Whatever this thing with Stede might be, Ed is all in. He walks towards the trailer and knocks on the door.

Stede pulls it open quickly as if he’d been waiting on the other side for Ed to knock. “You came,” he breathes. He’s still wearing the tight lycra top and the tiny little swim bottoms.

Now that Ed’s here, he’s not sure what to say. “Yeah, I, uh…” Stede grabs him by the lapels, pulls him into the trailer, and reaches over to slam the door behind him. Ed sucks in a deep breath as Stede pushes him against the door.

Stede sways towards him and pauses, pupils blown wide and staring at Ed hungrily. “Yes?” he asks. “I’m reading this right?”

Ed swallows and nods slightly. “Permission to come aboard, captain.”

Stede surges forward and kisses him, and thank fuck that he has Ed pinned against the door because otherwise, he’d completely melt into a puddle on the floor. As their tongues move together and their hands grope the other all over ferociously, Ed thinks for one dizzying moment that he’ll never be able to tell again where Stede stops and he begins, and maybe he’s okay with that. More than okay.

After a few minutes, they both come up for air. Stede leans his forehead against Ed and asks, “You’re sure you want this? Me?” He sounds unsure of himself, and Ed cannot let that stand.

“Fuck, yes,” Ed growls. “Have you seen how fucking hot you are? You’re a leg model for a reason, man.” Moving his hands to Stede’s ass, Ed pulls Stede’s hips flush with his own, grinding their hot cocks together. “Feel that? You think I get that hard for just anyone? Wanna take you apart on those fucking silk pillows of yours.”

Stede replies by kissing Ed again, briefly but passionately. Then, Stede suddenly backs up a bit—Ed whines inadvertently at the loss of physical contact, and then he yelps as Stede reaches down and hoists him up by the thighs. Helpless, all Ed can do is grab Stede by the neck and wrap his legs around him as he carries Ed to the daybed and tosses him down onto it.

“Stede, fuck, that’s the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me,” Ed gasps out, as Stede starts peeling off his lycra top.

Stede grins wolfishly. “Well, let’s see if we can top that tonight, shall we?” He then wriggles out of his swim briefs and his cock springs free, standing proudly at attention.

Ed’s mouth waters—he’d been eying Stede’s package all day, and the lycra had not left much to the imagination. It’s not the longest cock Ed’s ever seen, but it’s thick, pink and delicious looking.

“Fucking hell, mate.” Sitting up on his elbows, Ed adds, “I’ve been wanting to wear your legs like earmuffs all day.” Longer than that, if he’s honest, but that would be weird to admit right now.

Groaning, Stede kneels on the bed, crawls up Ed’s body and captures his lips in a searing kiss.

“You sure?” Stede asks when the kiss breaks.

Ed nods. “Yeah, man. And I got tested since my last partner - all negative.”

“Me too,” Stede says.

“Great.” Ed reaches down to squeeze Stede’s ass. “Need you to choke me with that thing.” Ed hasn’t sucked a dick this big in a while, though he loves doing it. He’s never wanted his mouth on someone more.

Stede huffs a laugh. “I hope not, darling. Wanna keep you alive and breathing—I have plans for you.” His words send a shiver down Ed’s spine.

Ed reaches for Stede’s cock and gives it a few firm, leisurely strokes. It feels perfect in his hand—heavy, hot. Right. “Fuck my face,” Ed whispers.

Stede arranges himself so that he’s straddling Ed’s face, his already-leaking cock hanging tantalizingly just out of the reach of his tongue. Ed inhales his scent—the citrus and lavender he’d detected before, along with something indefinable that must just be Stede. He’s surrounded by Stede—his cock, his legs—and it’s simply intoxicating.

“Tap my thigh three times if you need me to stop,” Stede tells him.

In response, Ed looks up into Stede’s hazel eyes. “Take it slow to start—been a while.” He opens his mouth.

Stede slowly slides his cock in, and Ed almost sobs with how good the feeling is. Once his nose is buried in the thatch of curls at the base of Stede’s cock, Ed sighs around him.

“Fuck, Ed, sweetheart, look how gorgeous you are taking my cock.” Ed moans and slides his hands up to grip Stede’s ass. He squeezes, hoping to signal that Stede can start moving. “This okay, darling?’

If Stede keeps calling Ed “darling” and “sweetheart” then there’s very little he won’t let Stede do to him. Ed gives his thigh a single tap, and Stede starts moving back and forth, slowly at first but enough that the head of his cock hits the back of his throat. The salty taste of Stede’s precome makes his mouth water.

“Ahh—fuck—Ed, your mouth. You’re incredible.” Bracing his hands on the wall behind Ed’s head, Stede’s thrusting starts to gain speed, but he keeps his pace measured. “So fucking gorgeous, so perfect.” Each sweet word makes Ed moan like a whore around Stede’s cock. He hasn’t felt this good in a long time—can’t remember the last time, really.

Ed’s mind goes blissfully blank as he finds a steady rhythm. He grips Stede’s ass a little harder, silently encouraging him to go faster until he’s truly fucking Ed’s face, relaxing his throat so that he can take Stede even deeper. He closes his eyes and feels hot tears squeezing out the corners.

“Aaaah—ah!” Stede calls out suddenly, withdrawing from Ed’s mouth.

“Something wrong?” Ed croaks, smirking.

“No, quite the opposite—not ready for this to be over yet, sweetheart.” He moves to straddle Ed’s middle, leaning down for a quick kiss before murmuring against Ed’s lips. “I was hoping, maybe—you could fuck me? If that’s of interest?” Stede looks shy when asking.

Ed surges up and kisses Stede in response. “Very much of interest,” he confirms. Ed assumes people usually prefer it the other way around, given what Stede’s packing. While Ed would love that, he’s happy to wait—he’s already had his mouth on that incredible cock.

Fuck Stede, get fucked by Stede. Ed wants to do it all. They’re going to need more than tonight. He hopes Stede feels the same way.

“Lie down,” he tells Stede. “Got any lube? We need to get you ready.” Blushing, Stede points at a drawer nearby. Ed snorts. “You’re cute when you’re all shy. You just had your cock down my throat. I’m not shocked that you keep Astroglide around.”

“Well, I don’t usually do this,” he gestures between the two of them. “But I admit sometimes I need to calm my nerves waiting around for shoots to start,” Stede says as he reclines on the bed. Head now filled with the image of Stede getting himself off on this very daybed, Ed grabs the lube and shucks off all his clothes. He keeps his eyes on Stede, who’s laid out for him like a goddamn feast.

Stede’s eyes go wide as they roam over Ed’s body. Ed preens a bit as he reaches down to stroke his own cock a few times. “Like what you see?”

“Your tattoos are stunning,” he tells Ed. “You’re stunning. Need your fingers. Please.” He then grabs the backs of his own thighs and pulls them back towards his shoulders, exposing his hole to Ed’s gaze. He’s flexible—must be all that yoga and pilates.

Ed is going to rail this man into outer space.

Ed makes quick work of applying lube to his fingers and kneeling on the bed. “Fuck me, you’re so fucking hot,” he tells Stede, as he uses his index finger to start softly teasing around the rim of Stede’s hole. “Gonna make you feel so good.”

Stede’s responding whine is music to Ed’s ears. “Ed, p-please.”

“I got you,” Ed tells him, as he slips the tip of one finger inside. Stede sighs as if he’s been waiting for this a long time. Ed watches in fascination as Stede relaxes beautifully around his finger. “That’s it, you’re doing so well.”

Ed wonders when, if ever, anyone has done this for Stede. Or is the first one privileged to get to see him like this? Pink and with a fine sheet of sweat all over, Stede is still gripping the backs of his thighs. His thick, gorgeous cock is leaking onto his belly as he gives another sigh, this one shuddering.

Once Stede is relaxed enough, Ed adds a second finger and starts gently moving them in a circle. “Do you know how gorgeous you are on my fingers?” Ed asks him.

“Fuck,” Stede replies on a shaky breath. Ah, so he likes hearing how good he looks. “Wanna stay here forever.” Well, Ed could do it forever, just live off of Stede’s little sighs, moans, and gasps of his name.

Curling his fingers just so, Ed rubs against that sweet spot inside of Stede; he’s thrilled to learn that he can make Stede scream his name, too. Ed rubs against that spot a few more times until Stede’s screams go hoarse and then soundless.

“Do you want another finger?”

Stede opens his eyes, which had been squeezed shut, and starts babbling. “No, fuck me, I’m— please—need your cock, split me open—“

Ed’s neglected cock twitches at the sound of Stede pleading for it. If they’d been dating for a while (dating!), then maybe Ed would teasingly draw out Stede’s begging for his cock. Not today. Seeing Stede, open, ready for him, and begging… Ed’s never been hotter for anyone in his life.

“Fuck,” Ed says as he grabs the lube. “Do you want me to use a c—“

“No, fill me up, please.”

“Yeah, gonna fill up that needly little hole so good,” Ed replies as he’s slicking himself up. He’s so wet that he hardly needs it, though. “Make you forget your name.” Stede whines affirmatively. “You like dirty talk?” Ed asks, somewhat unnecessarily.

Chest heaving, Stede nods. Ed wonders… “Do you want to hear that you’re a good boy or a slut?” Stede moans but doesn’t choose. Interesting. He applies some more lube to Stede’s hole and then arranges himself over Stede’s body. “You gonna be a good, needy little slut for me?” He asks.

“Ed!” Stede moves his legs to wrap them around Ed’s waist in a vice-like grip. Lining their bodies up, Ed enters Stede, slowly and carefully, using infinite self-control. Once he bottoms out, Ed gives Stede a moment to adjust as he leans down for a quick, filthy kiss. “You feel incredible—so fucking tight, baby.

Stede digs his heels into Ed. “Move! Fuck me!” There’s a new snippy quality to his voice that really does it for Ed.

“Fuck yeah, gonna give you what you need, little slut.” He starts moving, pulling his hips back slowly and then slamming them forward, hard. Stede grips Ed’s shoulder blades so hard that Ed’s pretty sure there will be crescent-moon marks there later—proof of the pleasure they shared.

Ed is falling into Stede’s whirlpool. It’s like drowning. It’s like sinking into quicksand. He may well lose himself in Stede and never want to be found.

Stede moans loudly, sharply, each time Ed surges into him. “You like being stuffed full of my cock?”

“Yes, fuck-yes! Faster, fuck me faster!” Stede—fuck shit goddammit—clenches his hole around Ed’s cock. Brat. With heat pooling deep inside his groin already, this won’t last much longer. Better make it count.

“You want it faster, I can give it to you faster. And harder.” Ed grabs Stede’s thighs and hoists his legs over his shoulder—after Stede’s little display before, Ed knows he’s flexible enough. He then picks up speed and knows from Stede’s screams that the change in angle has him hitting the right spot. “You want it like this?” The pace of Ed’s thrusting is now relentless.

“YES!” Stede yells. “Fuck, yes, Ed, fucking—fuuuuck meeeee!”

Ed feels heat surging throughout his body, and his legs are trembling. His arms are getting tired from holding himself up, too, but he’s determined to give Stede what he’s craving. He won’t need much more. He growls into Stede’s ear, “You feel so fucking good, baby. You wanna come on my cock?”

“Please!”

“Good boy.” Ed reaches between them and takes Stede’s cock in a firm grip, stroking once, twice, three times with his thrusts before he feels Stede’s hot come flowing all over his fist as he screams Ed’s name over and over. His body jerks beneath Ed’s as it goes on and on, and that’s enough for Ed to find his release, his vision going white as he fills Stede’s hole, which is still clenching and unclenching around him.

After gently disentangling their bodies, Ed flops down on the bed for a moment, sweaty and panting. It takes a few moments for him to catch his breath enough to pick himself up, walk over to the sink, and get a towel to clean them up with. Stede smiles but seems beyond words as Ed carefully cleans him up.

Ed lays back down; Stede turns on his side to look at Ed, and Ed does the same. They stare into each other’s eyes for a beat. Ed sees a shy hesitation in Stede, and Ed suspects Stede can see a similar look on his own face. “Ed, no one’s ever…” Stede seems unable to complete the thought, and he grimaces a bit. It’s cute.

“I get it. Most guys want you to fuck them, right?”

Stede nods gratefully. “In my limited experience. I do enjoy that, but sometimes I just wanna get railed, you know?”

“Yeah, man. Well, those guys are all idiots. I’d love for you to split me open sometime, but fucking you was incredible.”

Stede flushes bright red. “Does that mean you’d like to see me again?” He sounds so hopeful that it almost breaks Ed’s heart. The man is a model and former Olympian, he’d just given Ed one of the best orgasms of his life, and he’s got an army of people thirsting after him, yet he still sounds adorably pleased.

“‘Course. I had a crush on you before, you know. Once I found out who you were, looked at your TikToks and stuff.” Ed would usually never admit something like this to anyone, let alone someone he just hooked up with–it makes him feel vulnerable and exposed in a way that sex had not–but he feels safe being real with Stede.

Stede’s bright grin in response could power the electric grid of a large city.

“That’s—“

He’s interrupted by a loud knock at the door. “Ed, if you’re done fucking that twat, you left your fucking jacket outside.” It’s Izzy’s voice, sounding both disgusted and aggrieved.

Shit, everyone left out there heard everything, didn’t they? The trailer was probably rocking a bit, too.

Ah well. Worth it. Let them be jealous.

“Thanks, just leave it on the steps! I’m too naked to get it right now, mate.”

Ed hears grumbling and the sound of leather being dropped.

Looking back at Stede, Ed can see that his grin has turned mischievous. “Guess we had a bit of an audience.”

“Yup. And I’m happy to give a repeat performance, anytime.”

“Me too, though maybe something more private?” Stede pauses, before plunging on: “Say, do you have dinner plans tonight? I know a great Thai place, right near my house. We could get takeout…?”

Stede burst into Ed’s life like a supernova. Ed wants dinner, definitely–and more sex. Everything, really. He doesn’t want to go back to the way his life was before today. Maybe this will give Ed the courage to make some other changes, too.

“I didn’t have plans, but I do now.”

Chapter Text

Later the same evening…

For the first time, Ed understands what people mean when they say they’re floating on air. Before today, he’d have sworn that it was cheesy fucking bullshit made up by romcom writers.

He floats all the way home—he and Stede end up going their separate ways for a little while before the continuation of their date. Stede needs to drive his trailer over to where he stores it, so Ed goes home to take a quick shower. He also grabs a change of underwear and a toothbrush—he doesn’t know that Stede will ask him to stay the night but figures he’d better be prepared. If Stede feels anywhere near as strongly as Ed does, then Ed will be spending the night.

Ed is surprised that all this doesn’t scare him more, but being with Stede just feels right. It’s not just that he’s hot, though Ed is fucking feral over that aspect of things. There’s something about Stede that scratches an itch in Ed’s brain. He’s weird, but his brand of weird fits perfectly with Ed’s, somehow. He’s dorky but in a sexy way, and sweet, and funny. Ed has enjoyed simply being around him all day, horniness aside.

The fact that it was the best sex of Ed’s life is just a bonus. A bonus he’d like to replicate as many times as possible, in as many ways as possible. Ed read recently that some survey found that 1,300 different sexual acts are possible between men. There are probably some hard no’s in there for both of them, but Ed wants to try as many of them as possible with Stede.

He wants to do everything with Stede and to find out everything about him, too. Ed hasn’t been this excited in… fuck, maybe ever?

After his shower, Ed throws his clothes back on. He could choose a new outfit, but since Stede had been eying him up all day, he must appreciate the leathers and purple tee. And anyway, Ed reckons he won’t be wearing any of it for terribly long.

Plugging the address from Stede’s text into his phone, Ed is pleased to see that he only lives fifteen minutes away. All this time, Stede had been so close, and Ed had no idea. Somehow, that just makes it all seem even more right. Meant to be, even.

Meant to be? Ugh, who even am I anymore?

Traffic is surprisingly light, so Ed pulls up in front of Stede’s brownstone on his motorcycle after twelve minutes flat.

Almost as soon as Ed rings the doorbell, Stede yanks the door open. “Hey,” Ed begins, but before he can say anything more, Stede grabs him by the lapels of his jacket and pulls him inside. Ed finds himself being pushed up against a wall and, after he gives a little nod, thoroughly kissed. Their bodies melt into one another, hands grabbing at each other. He feels Stede’s hand slip up into the hair at the back of his head. Their tongues dance together filthily as they moan into each other’s mouths. Ed can feel Stede’s hardness poking into his thigh and knows Stede can feel his.

Is there something an order of magnitude better than floating on air? Ascending right up into the stratosphere maybe? Because that’s what Ed is feeling now.

When Stede’s stomach growls, they break the kiss and rest their foreheads together, both panting a little. “Guess we’d better order food, huh?” Ed asks.

“We should. I have a feeling we’ll need the energy.” Ed doesn’t bother to try to suppress the little shiver that runs up and down his spine, the little jump in his cock. Let Stede feel how desperate he is for more. Ed usually plays it cool with guys, but he knows on instinct that he doesn’t have to play those games with Stede. That his interest is enthusiastically returned.

Stede bites at Ed’s earlobe and growls into Ed’s ear. “I believe you said something about me splitting you open on my cock.” Stede grinds against him as his mouth lets out a helpless little whimpering noise. Good thing the wall behind Ed is holding him up, but his limbs would refuse to do the job.

Stede pulls his head back and waggles his eyebrows. “Better eat up, then—you’ll need your strength, darling.” Stede kisses him once more, this time sweetly, and leads him to the living room to sit on the couch. After a brief consultation, Stede orders enough pad thai and spring rolls to feed a small army. “I have a feeling we may want a late-night snack. That is if you’d like to stay over…”

Ed’s heart sings at the thought of staying over. Overcome, he says, quietly, “Might be nice.”

Stede lights up like a beacon.

As they wait for the food, Ed asks about Stede’s kids. Alma is 15, whip-smart, somewhat fierce, and also into cycling. Stede is happy to give her the encouragement his family never gave him. The younger, Louis, is 13 and is more shy and serious. He likes art, like his mother, Stede says. Stede gestures to some photos on the mantel of when they were a little younger. They’re cute, and Ed can see Stede in both of them. Ed had never considered being with a guy with kids, but he’s finding he doesn’t mind. Stede’s DILF-itude is part of his charm.

Shit, they only just met and haven’t discussed what they are, if anything, yet. Should Ed even be contemplating the possibility of meeting Stede’s kids?

It’s as if Stede is reading his mind, though, because he looks down at his feet, a bit shy, and says, “I know it’s soon, and maybe it’s crazy to say this, but I hope you can meet them someday.”

Ed grabs Stede’s hands and squeezes. “Know what you mean. It is a bit soon but.… Look, I’ll put my cards on the table. I’ve never met anyone I like as much as you. If you’re crazy, I’m crazy, but I want to see where this goes.”

Stede must agree because, yet again, Ed finds himself being thoroughly kissed, this time as he’s pressed down into the couch. That fucking Thai place must be very close, though, because the doorbell rings much too quickly. Ed giggles as he watches Stede, who’s visibly hard in his skinny jeans, try to shield most of his body with the door, reaching around it to grab the bag of food from the delivery person.

As they eat, curled up on the couch across from one another, Ed finally catches his breath long enough to take a good look around. Stede wasn’t joking about his love of nautical stuff—the decor looks like the stuff in his trailer but on a bigger scale. There are also several bookshelves, but Stede says that he keeps his favorites in his study upstairs.

Stede mentions that his ex-wife painted a very Modernist-looking painting of a lighthouse hanging by the fireplace. Stede asks what made Ed go into fashion photography after starting out in the art world. “Oh, you know, I just kinda fell into it after my stuff was exhibited in a few museums. Grew up kinda poor, so I thought it would be good, easy money when one of the big fashion houses approached me. And it is good, easy money…”

“But?” Stede prompts.

“Fashion is dull and pretentious. I’m bored out of my fucking skull, man.” Ed looks down at his nearly-empty plate, then back up at Stede. “Well, I was till today”

“You deserve to be happy, Ed. I’m only happy I could help,” Stede replies, putting his plate aside on the coffee table. “I hope you can get back to the more artistic side of things someday.”

No one has cared so much about Ed’s happiness, not since his mother passed. Ed’s surprised at how deeply Stede’s words affect him. Hands shaking a bit, Ed quickly puts his own plate down, not noticing at first that he’s put it down on an official-looking envelope. “Shit, sorry,” he says, moving his plate.

“Oh, quite alright, I should file that away,” Stede says, following Ed’s gaze. “I have to renew my leg insurance soon. They have to do an examination. It’s all very tedious.”

Ed’s cock perks up at the mention of Stede’s legs. “An examination… of your legs?” Stede nods. “Tedious for you, maybe. You’re telling me that some lucky person is actually going to get paid to examine your legs closely? Fucking hell, mate, I’d do it for free right now.”

Stede’s gaze burns hot as he replies, “I think I’ll take you up on that. I suggest we move things to the bedroom if you’re amenable?” He stands up and then holds out his hand towards Ed. The unexpectedly courtly gesture is touching.

Ed holds up his hand and allows Stede to hoist him to his feet. Goddamn, he’s strong. “Amenable as fuck, mate. Lead the way.”

Stede keeps a grip on Ed’s hand as they walk to the hallway and up the stairs to the bedroom. Ed’s heart is racing, and it’s not just the prospect of examining The Legs and getting off with Stede again. Ed feels like he’s skydiving out of a plane while also trusting that there will be a soft landing. Considering that Ed has a massive back tattoo that says, “Trust No One” (an unfortunate decision after his third and final breakup with Jack), this is surprising, to say the least. Yet Ed trusts Stede implicitly.

Maybe he’s just gotten tired of pushing people away. Or maybe Stede is worth the risk.

When they get to Stede’s room, Ed pauses and sucks in a breath, looking around. The room is done in soft colors reminiscent of the sea—blues, greens, and touches of silver. The centerpiece of the room is an enormous canopy bed, of all things, hung with gauzy material and piled high with more silk and velvet pillows, much like Stede’s daybed in his trailer. Ed wants to strip down and roll around on all of it, luxuriating in the feel of it on his skin. He’s glad Stede invited him to stay the night because after being naked in this bed with Stede, he may never want to leave.

Ed looks over at Stede, who’s gone quiet—he suddenly looks adorably nervous. Ed rests his hands on Stede’s upper arms and says, “Hey, look, we don’t have to do this. I know we already fucked, but it was the heat of the moment. We can slow it back down if you’re nervous…”

“No!” Stede almost shouts. “I mean, I want to! It’s not that. Just don’t usually bring many people up here. I know it’s a bit much…”

Ah, he’s worried that Ed doesn’t like his inner sanctum. Stede had said the same thing about his trailer. Who had told Stede that he was too much? Ed wants to find them and kick their asses. Ed can certainly handle all of Stede’s “too much.”

“I think this room is fucking brilliant.” Ed pulls Stede in and kisses him, sweetly, to punctuate his point. Stede makes a happy little noise of surprise. Ed wishes he could record it and listen to it on a loop. Ed slips his hands up under the hem of Stede’s tee shirt (which is obscenely tight on his biceps) and up his back, as he pulls their hips flush and goes in for another kiss. His skin is warm and soft under Ed’s hands—softer even than the silk of his pillows. “Take your clothes off,” Ed purrs in Stede’s ear. “‘m dying to see you spread out naked on that fancy bed of yours.”

Stede grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls it off over his head. Fuck, his chest and arms are solid. Ed continues watching as he kicks off his slippers, shoves his jeans and briefs down, cock springing free. “How are you so fucking hot?”

Confidence returned, Stede puts his hands on his hips, proud as a peacock, and smirks. “You saw all this already, you know.”

“Not tired of it yet. On the bed—I promised to check over those legs of yours.”

Stede throws himself on the bed as Ed takes off his shirt, pants, and briefs as fast as possible. It might be fun another time to stay clothed while Stede is naked and at his mercy, but Ed doesn’t want any barriers between them—he needs to feel Stede’s skin on his own.

Ed sits on the bed, pausing to take in the view. One of Stede’s legs is bent, the other stretched out straight. Stede’s torso is resting against the mountain of pillows, biting his lip and pumping his flushed cock lazily with one hand. His face and neck are pink, his eyes heavy-lidded. Ed wants to devour him, bit by bit. Starting with his legs.

“What am I looking for, on your legs?” Ed asks as he starts running a hand up and down the calf closest to him.

“Oh, little flaws, I suppose…”

Ed snorts. “I’ll look very closely, but they look pretty fucking perfect to me, mate.”

Stede blushes, somehow becoming even more red than he already is. “Well, I do have all these freckles… there’s a mole on my inner thigh.” He gestures at the thigh closest to Ed, just above the knee. Ed bends his head to press a kiss to the little mole.

“Fucking love your freckles. And that mole doesn’t look like a flaw to me. Looks more like a suggestion for a good place to start kissing.” And so Ed does, after arranging himself with Stede’s legs on either side of him. He runs his hands up and down both legs, reveling in how Stede relaxes back into the pillows with a blissed-out look on his face.

If nothing else happens tonight, Ed feels like would still feel like he’s died and gone to heaven, as he starts gently kissing and nipping at Stede’s toned thighs. He takes his time, thoroughly enjoying all of Stede’s little gasps and moans.

“Oh, Ed—touch me!” Stede’s voice is hoarse already, but of course, he’d been yelling when Ed fucked him a few hours earlier. “Please!”

“Hey now, I’m not rushing this. Your legs deserve a thorough assessment. For insurance purposes.” Ed has to admit that he’d also like to further assess Stede’s cock—his mouth is watering as he imagines licking up the precome already gathering at its tip. But right now he’s enjoying how each little kiss along the constellation of freckles makes Stede’s whole body writhe and jerk.

Ed doesn’t see any marks on Stede’s legs, aside from the freckles and the cute mole, but he’d sure as fuck like to put some there. “You’re fucking perfect as is, sweetheart. But can I mark you up?”

“Fuck yes,” Stede practically growls.

Ed bends his head again and starts sucking at the tender skin of Stede’s inner thighs, just hard enough to leave little bruises. Stede keens as his hips lift off the bed—Ed has to hold him down a bit to keep him in place. “Ed, fuck, feels so good,” Stede manages to say between gasps.

Ed is careful to keep his love marks to areas that swim trunks would cover since he doesn’t know what kind of modeling gigs Stede has lined up. Fortunately, these are the softest bits of skin; Ed is enjoying how Stede feels under his lips and tongue, the give of his skin when he nips with his teeth. His own cock, trapped between his body and Stede’s fancy duvet, is desperate for friction—Ed grinds into the bed a bit. He’s going to leave a wet spot behind but suspects Stede won’t mind too much.

Once he’s sucked a trail of marks on both legs, Ed raises his head to admire his work—little red marks are already decorating the expanse of Stede’s inner thighs. “Fucking gorgeous.” Stede’s head is thrown back on the pillows—he moans at Ed’s words but doesn’t open his eyes. Suddenly, Ed is consumed with the desire to make Stede see how hot he is, how Ed has branded him.

Ed grasps Stede’s leaking cock; using the wetness to slick up his hand, he starts stroking.

“Open your eyes.” Ed makes his voice sound commanding. Stede complies, but looks rather dazed—he needs a moment to focus. “Look how I marked you up—looks like you’re mine now. Do you belong to me?” Stede nods. “Say it.”

“I belong to you, Ed,” Stede says with a happy sigh.

“That’s right, and you’re fucking gorgeous, too. Say it.”

“I—I’m fucking gorgeous.” Ed is fascinated by the mixture of shyness and confidence in Stede. He sounds unsure of his looks, even though he’s a model. One day, Ed will have to fuck Stede in front of a mirror to make him really believe that he’s hot.

Stede looks completely blissed out. Has Ed sent him to some kind of subspace-adjacent place? Maybe no one’s focused on Stede’s pleasure before. If so, Ed wants to spend the rest of his life helping make up for lost time.

He also needs to get on that dick immediately; his own cock gives a little throb at the thought. “Stede, sweetheart, can I ride you? Wanna watch you fall apart under me.”

Stede’s eyes fly open. “Yes, please!”

“Got any more Astroglide around here?” Stede points to a drawer, which Ed leans over to open. Once Ed grabs the bottle and pops open the cap, Stede seems to come back to himself.

“Allow me,” Stede insists, grabbing the bottle from Ed’s hands. Stede has nice, thick, fingers, so he’s happy to oblige. “On all fours, if you please. I want to watch you.”

Oh, shit, now it’s Stede's voice that sounds commanding. Ed wants to salute and say, “Yes, Captain.” Ed puts a pin in that idea to explore later; for now, he settles for scrambling to comply.

He hears Stede suck in a breath behind him. “You’re the gorgeous one, Edward.” Stede’s hands run gently over his ass and back, lingering over the “Trust No One” tattoo with a soft caress. Stede doesn’t ask about it, though Ed suspects he will later. Stede stops touching him, so Ed braces himself a bit, expecting to feel a finger—he yelps when instead he feels Stede bite gently at the meat of his ass instead. “You look delicious. May I…?”

“Yes!” Ed yells, canting his ass back towards Stede. No one’s eaten his ass in years—it always makes him lose his mind a bit in a way that makes him feel exposed, more so than other sex stuff. It’s too much with guys he doesn’t trust. Ed finds himself eager to show those soft, hidden parts of himself to Stede, though. When he feels Stede’s tongue lap gently at his entrance, he feels something close to relief… he’s starting to understand why Stede looked so blissed out a few moments ago.

Ed spends half a moment wondering if Stede has done this before, but then he starts going to town, and all conscious thought vanishes as he screams, “Holy fuck, Stede!” Stede’s tongue is fucking magical, alternating quickly between licking flat stripes and darting the tip just inside of Ed. At some moments, he licks Ed’s taint; at others, he fondles Ed’s balls as his tongue swirls around Ed’s entrance.

Ed’s shaking so hard that his arms can’t hold himself up—he has to move down to prop himself on his forearms, which gives Stede an even better angle. Stede grabs the front of Ed’s thighs and moans contentedly like he’s licking an ice cream cone instead of Ed’s hole.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Ed feels something inside himself, long coiled up tightly, let go as Stede works him over. His body unconsciously, shamelessly, pushes itself back into Stede’s tongue, and, as if from a distance, he can hear himself moaning Stede’s name as his body is wracked with wave after wave of heat. His untouched cock is dripping onto the bed below. Could Ed come just from this alone? He never had before, but he’d like to try someday, but for the moment he tells Stede he’s getting close.

Stede’s tongue darts inside once more before he pulls off, opens the lube, and slicks up his fingers. Ed’s relaxed enough now that it’s not long before one finger slips in easily. Stede moves it in a slow circle as he murmurs about how beautiful Ed is. Ed’s never wanted to cry when he’s gotten fingered before—first time for everything, he supposes.

Stede has gotten a second finger in now but is opening him up almost too slowly and carefully. It’s tipping over from bliss into a form of exquisite torture, and Ed needs more. “Stede, fuck, please, another—”

“Hey now, I’m not rushing this.” Cheeky bastard, using Ed’s own words against him. “You look so gorgeous on my fingers. I could do this all night.”

His middle finger grazes Ed’s prostate. Ed whines then gasps out, “I’d look more gorgeous on your cock, mate.”

Stede laughs. “Good point. I rather think you will, darling.” He rubs at the spot inside of Ed a few more times—his brain is going to leak out of his ears if this goes on much longer, but thank fuck, Stede’s gently inserting a third finger now, and Ed feels himself go pliant around it.

“There you go, good boy. Gonna make you feel so fucking good.”

“You already are,” Ed tells Stede. “‘m ready.” Stede still spends a few more moments circling his fingers and rubbing Ed’s prostate before he slowly withdraws his fingers. Ed’s eyes follow him as he crawls up the bed to lay back on the pillows. Every inch of his body is stunning.

Ed straddles Stede’s hips and leans down to kiss him. Stede moans into the kiss as his cock nestles against Ed’s ass like it belongs there. Ed wiggles against it and Stede moans again: “Edward, please!” Feeling around for the lube, Ed breaks the kiss gently and sits up. He slicks up Stede’s cock and lines himself up with it, sinking down with a contented sigh and pausing to allow his body to become accustomed to Stede’s thick cock.

Their eyes lock, and in that moment, Ed just knows. This is it for him. They’re it for each other. Being this close to another person has never felt so right before. Irrevocable, even. Like the ink adorning Ed’s skin.

Stede’s hands rove over Ed’s torso before they wrap around his waist. “You’re stunning, darling. Your tattoos. Such a slutty little waist, just made for me to grab.”

The praise makes the breath leave Ed’s body. “Fuck, man, the things you say,” Ed replies as he begins to move, lifting and dropping his body on a slow-but-steady rhythm. Stede’s cock fills Ed perfectly, even better than he’d dreamed—it feels right, perfect like it was molded exactly to fit Ed’s body.

“There’s more where that came from. Ed—fuck!—you feel incredible around me. So hot and tight.” Ed’s only reply is a growl—he leans forward, resting his hands on Stede’s tits and starts pinching his nipples. “Shit!” Stede yells. His nipples must be sensitive—excellent information.

There’s a fine sheen of sweat on Stede’s forehead now, and he’s flushed all over. He’s panting between moans of Ed’s name interspersed with dirty praise and the gentle slap of Ed’s cock on Stede’s belly. Ed has never seen or heard anything better in his whole life.

It feels like they’ve gone somewhere else, outside of or even beyond time, together–a secret place for just the two of them.

Ed can feel the familiar heat pooling deep in his groin. Since he won’t last much longer, he leans back a bit, changing the angle, and picks up the pace, riding Stede for all he’s worth. Stede’s hips are stuttering—he must be close too—and he cants his hips up into Ed so that his cock is hitting just the right spot. “Ah, ah—yes, there, fuck—there!” Ed screams as his hips start stuttering, so Stede grabs around his waist harder, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he hoists Ed up and down over his cock. Ed’s hand flies to his cock and starts pumping—it only takes a few strokes before his vision whites out as he comes over his fist. He feels his hole spasm and clench around Stede’s cock. A moment later, Stede screams Ed’s name as he throws his head back.

After disentangling their bodies, Stede rolls off the bed and over to the bathroom, returning with a wet cloth. He cleans Ed up, gently, tenderly even. No one’s ever been so careful about that sort of thing before—Ed would have a towel thrown at him, at best.

Ed’s heart squeezes in his chest. How is this man so sweet as well as hot? There’s a dangerous thought in the back of Ed’s head already, trying to fight its way to the surface, but he pushes it down. It’s too soon, even though they’ve agreed to see where this goes.

After the cleanup, Stede curls up on his side, head on Ed’s chest, fingers tracing the snake tattoo on Ed’s arm. “I wanted to ask something. About your tattoos…” Stede starts.

Ed suddenly feels self-conscious, even though Stede just fucked his brains out. Stede doesn’t have any tattoos, maybe they’re not his thing. “Too many?”

“No!” Stede says. “Not at all. They’re beautiful, perfect, even.” Sounding more hesitant, he asks, “How do you, uh, choose them?”

“No particular reason in most cases. The snake looked fucking cool. Got the spiders because I was afraid of spiders, thought it would help. Didn’t help.” Stede laughs. “Some I got after some life stuff.” Ed can feel the question forming, so he heads it off: “You’re wondering about 'Trust No One,' yeah?” Most guys ignore it, but Ed had a feeling that Stede would want to know about it.

Stede sits up, hazel eyes serious and looking into Ed’s. He nods. “I hope to know about all of them someday. But yes, that one. Only if and when you want to tell me, though.”

“’s alright. I can tell you. It was after I broke up with my ex for the third time. He was fucking around on me, which was—whatever. It was mostly the lying I hated. When I found out, I confronted him. I told him that I thought I meant more than that to him… and he laughed in my face. We’d been close since we were young, and it fucking hurt, you know?”

“Sounds like a fucking asshole who didn’t deserve you,” Stede says, with heat. Anger makes him look like an avenging angel—Ed would fuck him about it right now if they weren’t both in their forties. “Does it still hurt?” Stede asks.

“Nah, just… I lost the habit of trusting anyone, I guess.” Fuck me, here goes nothing. “Till I met you. I’ve known you for less than 24 hours. But I trust you. Is that weird?”

“I guess so, but… My family was—well, some other time. Suffice it to say I don’t trust easily, either. But I do trust you.”

Ed smiles. “So we’re doing this then? The mutual trust thing?”

Stede leans forward and plants a lingering kiss on Ed’s lips. “Yes. Since it seems we’re on the same page and want to see where this goes… would you consider being my boyfriend, Edward?”

“Think I already am, Stede.”