Chapter Text
One Year Ago - April
Stede leaned in, the urge to kiss Ed as undeniable as gravity. Something about the softness in his eyes, paired with his kindness today, was completely irresistible. So he didn’t resist, just slipped into it, easy as breathing. Ed gasped, a tiny inhale, as if he hadn’t expected it, and Stede started to pull back, worried that he’d somehow misread some very solid signals. Before he moved very far away, though, he felt Ed’s hand wrap his neck and tug him back in, bringing their lips together again. Kissing Ed was…lovely.
Like a dream, and Stede couldn’t help wondering if maybe that was what was happening because he’d never thought that Ed would want this with him. For a dozen reasons, really—starting with Ed maybe being the most beautiful person he’d ever seen and ending somewhere around the fact he’d been a total asshole to him the first time they’d met.
He had tried to tell Ed that he was having a truly terrible time that day, that year. But if the situation had been reversed, he couldn’t imagine that he would have been anywhere near as warm as Ed had been today. Also, shit, he was kissing Ed and somehow still lost in his own fucking head. He wished he could have a break from it, turn off the worry engine, and just be. Stede pulled away so that he could take a moment to orient himself.
“You okay?” Ed asked, voice very soft.
Stede nodded. “Yeah. Just got a little lost in my own head. You don’t, um…you’re not still mad at me…from last year?”
“Last year?” Ed asked with evident confusion, and okay, it had been a good kiss.
“When I was a dick. The day we met.”
“Oh, the Portuguese Incident.”
“Fuck. It has a name?”
“Bit famous for it, mate. After all, it was your second run-in with a staffer.”
“It was not!”
“You trying to tell me you don’t have beef with Izzy.”
“Oh, him! He doesn’t count. Horrible little man, I don’t imagine anyone likes him.”
Ed laughed. “Ouch. No, you’re not wrong. Izzy has a flair for pissing people off. But you don’t want to make a name for yourself swanning in and arguing about materials.”
“I don’t swan! I put my money where my mouth is!”
“Huh? I don’t—”
Stede saw the moment that Ed put it together.
“You bitched about our splitty, cheap acrylic yarn, and we got the good stuff the next month. How the fuck did I not see the timing on that before? That was you?”
“Yes, of course, I mean, you mentioned the budget, and that at least was something I could help with—”
“Fuck. You're the robotics team sponsor too, aren’t you?”
Stede sighed. “Yes and no. Really, it was my father’s company, but I might have put a word in the ear of the right person.”
“And you’re still worried I’m mad at you?”
“Well, it isn’t the same as an apology, is it?”
“You can still do that too.”
Stede grinned. “I apologize for stomping into your day and griping at you for something that was not your problem.”
“Okay, I forgive you. Now that we're fixed up on that, can we go back to kissing?”
“Hmm, but are you going to take this jacket off of me?” Stede asked, smiling at Ed, inviting him to truly go back to doing what they’d been doing before.
“Like you in my clothes,” Ed said.
Good grief, how was Stede to square that? So he didn’t. “You’ll like me better out of them.”
Ed responded by running a finger along the line of the jacket’s collar and dragging his hand down Stede’s chest. Stede swayed toward him as Ed loosened the fastenings and pushed it off Stede’s shoulders. Ed tossed it onto the bed next to the teal coat, and Stede took a sharp breath before reaching out and catching the scarf around Ed’s neck, tugging him in and kissing him hard.
Ed’s hands were moving again, flicking open the buttons on Stede’s shirt and tugging it loose from his waistband. Then his hand was on the bare skin of Stede’s back, and Stede very much wanted to do everything.
He broke the kiss and said, “I’m on PrEP. I have condoms. I'm down for anything you want to do.”
Ed smirked. “Anything’s pretty expansive. I’m on PrEP too, and I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you remembered condoms in one of your fifteen bags.”
“Didn’t plan to be on this trip with my kids.” Stede laughed. “Not mad about how it turned out.” He kissed Ed again, letting all his hunger feed into the way he was taking Ed’s mouth. “Don’t tell me you haven’t been thinking about this all day.”
“I have. I had no idea conversation could be so slutty, never mind your fucking hair…all wavy and shit, and that goddamn dimple.”
“I have wanted to lick your throat since you wrapped my scarf around it this morning.” Stede reached out again and unlooped the scarf, pulling it loose and dropping it onto the bed. He pushed Ed’s beard out of the way and tongued up the hollow of Ed’s throat before sucking over his Adam’s apple.
Ed moaned and buried a hand in Stede’s hair, his other one working to tug off Stede’s shirt. It was caught at the cuffs, and Stede pulled back with a sound of annoyance, reaching down to tug open the buttons and letting the thing fall to the floor as he moved to drag Ed’s T-shirt over his head.
They both paused, chest to chest, breathing hard, and stared at each other. “Okay?” Stede asked.
Ed nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I—” He looked Stede over head to toe. “Will you take off your shoes?”
Stede didn’t question it, only dropped down to untie his shoes while Ed sat down on the bed and started working on his boots. Stede followed with his socks, and then stood back up barefoot, waiting for Ed to finish.
“Silly fucking boots,” Ed muttered from where he was sitting. Stede kneeled in front of him, sat the foot against his knee and began gently working the boot loose. “I’ve got you,” he said, easing it off. “Your feet are probably just a little sore from walking around so much. May I?”
“Yeah,” Ed said in a low voice, and Stede peeled his sock off before gently rubbing over Ed’s ankle and caressing his thumb down his sole. He gestured and Ed gave him the other foot, Stede repeating the process, then setting it on the floor. It wasn’t something he usually noticed, but Ed had pretty feet, each one tattooed on the top with a spider.
Stede smiled up at him. “Anything else you’d like me to get while I’m down here?”
Ed laughed. “No. I wanted your shoes off so we can get on the bed. Come here.”
Stede picked their discarded clothing up, moving it to a chair, and sat down next to Ed. “So, bed?”
“Mmm.” Ed touched his shoulder, indicating he should recline, and Stede yielded, tipping flat onto his back. “Fuck, mate, your chest. I thought the shoulders and arms were bad. I can’t believe you’re hiding this all the time. Probably for the best. I just want to—” he bent over Stede, pausing.
Stede felt his cock growing heavy as he watched the ravenous way Ed was staring at him. “Do it.”
Ed finished the motion, pressing his mouth to Stede’s chest before licking over his nipple. He moved to the other side, dragging it to a peak against his teeth. Stede sank into the intensity of the sensation, appreciating how it contrasted with the soft curls of Ed’s beard brushing over his skin.
Stede moaned and slid his hand downward to adjust himself to a more comfortable angle. “Hair?” He breathed out, hoping it was clear from context.
Ed lifted his head. “Have at it.”
Stede slipped his fingers into the hair at Ed’s nape, running them up his scalp and enjoying the sounds he was driving Ed to make.
“Fuck, mate, if you keep that shit up I’m going to turn into a fucking puddle, and no one is going to get their cock sucked.”
“What makes you think I want my cock sucked?”
Ed rolled off of Stede’s chest and shifted up so that their faces were side by side. “Is that not what we’re doing here?”
“I said anything. How do you like it?”
Stede didn’t even know what he was saying. He’d had what Lucius had called a slut era, but it was more like a slut three months. His mouth was perhaps writing checks his sexual experience couldn’t cash, but something about Ed made him want to promise everything.
“I like to be fingered and fucked. I like to ride cock. I like to suck cock and have my cock sucked. Is that what you’re asking? Do you want to hear that I’d fuck you too? That I want your legs over my shoulders?”
Stede was painfully hard, and the answer was yes. Yes, he did want to hear that. Yes, he did want to do it. Yes, he was in over his fucking head. “Yes.” He leaned in and kissed Ed. “Yes, we have three nights. Where do you want to start?”
Which is how Stede ended up on his knees after all, bent over Ed, sucking his cock while he worked two fingers into him. Ed was thrusting his hips up, almost whimpering as Stede continued to suck him.
“Oh, fuck. Fuck, I’m so close,” Ed gasped out.
Stede wondered if he might come from the sound of that alone. His own cock was bare and aching, still untouched—Ed lost in what Stede was doing to him, Stede’s hands occupied. Then Ed was coming, a bitten off moan, his hips stuttering to a stop, clenching around Stede’s fingers. He turned his face into the mattress, the sounds continuing as Stede sucked him through it.
Ed collapsed, legs going loose, and Stede pulled off, pulled free, and went into the bathroom to clean up. After a minute, Ed called after him, “Are you coming back?”
Stede poked his head out of the bathroom, and holy shit, as beautiful as Ed was clothed and flirting, he was devastating post-orgasm, heat on his cheeks, hair loose around him, his tattoos visible and lovely, trailing over his skin. Stede took a slow breath, trying to contain the feeling that his heart might beat out of his chest.
“I was just giving you a moment.”
Ed laughed. “I know I’m greedy enough to let you do that to me first, doesn’t mean I don’t want to do the same…or whatever you like best.”
Stede suppressed the urge to say he didn’t know what he liked best yet. That when someone was bouncing from one person to the next, it was a lot of awkward first times. This was not that.
He’d definitely never done precisely that before, but Ed had been quite instructive on what he liked, and Stede liked knowing exactly what to do. It was nice to make someone come really fucking hard. Fun even.
“Just a minute,” he said instead, stepping into the bathroom and taking long slow breaths. All he had to do was name one thing he liked. They could go from there. He walked back into the main room and sat on the edge of bed. “Will you suck my cock?”
###
Ed had Stede’s gorgeous legs up over his shoulders. There was a pillow jammed under his ass, and Ed was very slowly fucking him. He could not think of a better way to spend a Friday night, and had a sudden flash that he had very nearly missed this. If it had been Izzy, they’d be doing their four hundredth repeat of why Ed wouldn’t just go back to being Blackbeard. Or he could be sharing the room with Oluwande or Pete. He didn’t think he’d enjoy being balls deep in Pete, but he couldn’t say that he’d tried either.
Stede, on the other hand, fuck. It wasn’t a case of if he was enjoying it. It was a case of when he could again, of how often, of wondering if he had ever felt this way with anyone before. It was maybe that he didn’t want to be inside of anyone else ever again. It was perfect.
He soothed his hand down the top of Stede’s thigh, feeling the shape of his muscles, the texture of Stede’s hair against his palm. Ed let himself slide into the sensory experience of it, focusing only on sensations—the catch of Stede’s breath, his soft moans. Ed bent and licked over Stede’s nipple, savoring the taste of his skin. He let one of Stede’s legs slide down his arm so that Ed could shift up and take his mouth.
Ed thought he could do this all night—if he didn’t have to get up in the morning and take eight teenagers to breakfast. Also, he thought maybe Stede didn’t want to do it all night, or that was what he assumed from the words coming out of his mouth.
Stede had broken away, his cheek to Ed’s cheek, and he was panting out, “Please, please fuck me. I can’t take it anymore. I need you to move.”
“Yeah?” Ed asked, leaning back up, and adjusting the leg that was still on his shoulder. He gripped Stede’s thigh and began to thrust into him. “Want me to get your cock?”
Stede shook his head, and then added, “No, I’ll get it.” He slid his hand downward, wrapping it around himself, fucking into his fist. His dick was fucking magnificent, and Ed maybe loved it a little. And he was going to make Stede come.
He pushed up the pace, thrusting into him, and loved watching the way Stede’s head dropped back, as if he couldn’t do anything but ride out what was coming for him. Ed was working to take him hard and fast, and he could feel the way Stede was tensing, bracing for his spin out over the edge, and past. Stede shouted, no volume behind it, just one long expression of release, his eyes squeezed shut, coming onto his own chest and pulsing around Ed. It was fucking beautiful and filthy, and Ed came in the wake of it, releasing into Stede like there was nothing else he could ever desire.
He pulled out, and took a few moments to clean both of them before tugging Stede up the bed, laughing as he rolled into him and buried his face in his chest. “Love your tits, mate.” He cut off the rest: “and want to sleep with my face buried in them for the rest of my life.” Instead, he snuggled in, enjoying the way Stede’s arms had come around him.
“Wouldn’t have previously considered that one of my best features. Get a lot of compliments on the legs.”
“They’re good,” Ed agreed. “Not the dick?”
“Don’t show that to everyone.”
“Ooh, yeah, like a man with a little discretion.”
Stede snorted. “What do we have in the morning?”
Today, they’d taken the teens for a quick breakfast and then over to the convention center for a morning class. Ed tried not to smirk as he led the group into Portuguese Knitting for Beginners, but didn’t quite manage it. Stede looked over at him and laughed, and then they sat together as the instructor led the class through trying out the style.
They broke from there to lunch before letting the group sit in the open knitting circle area until it was time for their shorter afternoon class. Ed was doing his job, he was, but he felt a bit like he’d spent the last two years knocked loose and that maybe he’d found where he wanted to be. He looked over at Stede, practically hearing his therapist yelling at him that a person couldn’t be a goal or a destination, and Ed knew that, but maybe, he could dream for just a little while.
He ruthlessly crushed out the part of him that was whispering that as someone who was barely getting by, day to day, he was in no way ready for whatever it was he thought he was going to pursue with Stede. It wouldn’t matter that he was half jagged edges, they were all invisible, hidden inside.
They’d met up with the the robotics team for a combined dinner, and then when the day and the responsibilities were wrapped, Ed had asked Stede if he could fuck him. It had been a very good day, and they’d have another one tomorrow. There was only one morning class. The rest of the day would be devoted to letting the teens wander in the marketplace or take part in the open knitting circle again. It would be Stede all day in Ed’s reach, and Ed would love every minute of it.
He realized he'd been lost in reverie and lifted his head from Stede, shifting to meet his eyes. “Taking them to a nice breakfast tomorrow. Or nicer, a real restaurant, not fast food. Some friend of Jackie’s who wanted to do something for the kids since we were going to be in the area.”
“Hmm, sounds good,” Stede said, reaching over to switch off the light and making no effort to move over to the untouched queen-sized bed in the other half of the room. Ed dropped his head back to Stede’s chest, not minding that at all.
Ed was fresh from the shower and pulling on his leather pants and black T-shirt. Stede was standing by one of his suitcases, open on the other bed, his expression sporting a critical frown, and Ed felt a twinge of doubt.
“What?” he asked, failing to keep the uncertainty from his voice.
“Did you only bring black?” Stede asked.
“Umm, yeah, it’s my favorite color,” Ed said, not even knowing if that was really true or just habit.
“Would you wear something if I lent it to you?”
“Yeah,” Ed said, lying, not about wearing it, but about the loan part, because he’d already decided that he wasn’t giving back any of Stede’s clothes if they happened into his possession. It wasn’t like Stede would miss them.
“Hmm,” Stede replied, flipping through a selection of shirts in what was a truly excessive amount of clothing. “Don’t even know why I brought this one, but it will look stunning on you.” He slid out a deep purple T-shirt and held it out to Ed.
Ed took it from his hand, feeling the warmth of their fingers brushing together. He shook it out, and pulled it over his head, appreciating that it had a kind of slutty neckline. He wondered where Stede had imagined he’d be wearing it. He tucked the bottom into his waistband and moved to the mirror while he retied Stede’s scarf around his neck. He was considering how he wanted to style his hair when Stede came up beside him, studying his reflection.
He smiled and said, “I was right.” He reached up and traced the line of the cashmere scarf against Ed’s neck with a fingertip. “You wear fine things well.” He let his hand fall and walked into the bathroom, apparently ready to brush his teeth after wreaking devastation on Ed. Ed reached up and touched the spot where Stede’s finger had been and tried not to think about how much he wanted that touch again.
The restaurant was fucking cute, if a little crowded with their nearly thirty people stuffed into it. Ed hadn’t necessarily meant to stick right next to Stede, but he wasn’t exactly regretting that he’d done so, since they ended up crammed in next to each other at a long table. They were given a limited menu, four options to choose from, which was pretty fucking generous, given the meal was on the house. Ed ordered french toast with a side of bacon, and Stede laughed next to him before ordering his own food, just a basic breakfast plate of eggs and sausage.
“Don’t laugh. It’s a good breakfast,” Ed said, and he could feel how hard he was grinning.
“Your committed sweet tooth is adorable, really. Please tell me you’re going to bathe it in syrup too.”
“Wait till you see what I do to this cup of coffee,” Ed said as he raided packets of sugar from the holder in front of him and began tearing them open over his cup.
Stede laughed. “I’d like to pretend I’m horrified, but it’s still pretty adorable.”
Across the table from them, Alma made a sound a lot like a quiet “ugggggh.”
Ed stirred a spoon in the cup while adding creamer and then lifted it to his lips with a grin. “Mmm,” he murmured, wanting nothing more than to continue sharing the warm moment with Stede.
They finished the meal, and after the bus took them back to the hotel, they split into groups again. Ed watched while Stede hugged Louis and wished him good luck, and then they were taking their smaller group back to Fleece & Fiber.
This morning’s class was “Gauge for Beginners,” which Ed could probably benefit from could he be bothered to swatch. One of the upsides of toy knitting was that it rarely required swatching, since it didn’t matter if the gauge was off as long as the fabric was firm. Half a stitch per inch was a little more detrimental when you were, say, making sleeves.
The class instructor was walking them through the basics, and Stede was sitting there taking notes, like he wasn’t—Ed double-checked—wearing a perfectly fit pullover he’d knit himself. He suppressed the urge to snicker and stole Stede’s pen to write “NO!” next to the underlined advice that washing and blocking swatches was necessary.
Stede took the pen out of Ed’s hand, and took another note before moving to the margin. Ed thought he was going to scratch out Ed’s addition, but he doodled a little heart around it instead. He resumed taking notes, and Ed stared at the little heart. What the fuck were they even doing? He shifted his attention to the teens he was in charge of, again aware of how happy he was about the opportunity for them to do something cool like this—to see that by being in fiber arts they were part of a larger community.
Then the class was over, and they were eating lunch and releasing the teens in two groups to wander the marketplace with phone numbers to reach Ed and Stede if necessary and a set time and place to meet up. Stede led Ed in a direct line across the center to his favorite project bag vendor, talking about fabric and pockets with unchecked glee.
“Mate, they can’t be that good.”
“You haven’t seen them yet,” Stede enthused. “Just wait!” He pulled Ed into a large booth adorned with bags and cases in a rainbow of fabrics while gushing, “Look at the circular cases!”
Ed studied the various pockets and bits, running his fingertip over a finished seam. “Seems nice enough.”
“They’re the best!” Stede said cheerfully, wandering around the booth and stacking his selections on his arm. It was nearly night and day, the man Ed had met last year, and the one he was watching now, and he still hadn’t even asked what had changed. He guessed that maybe it was time for a long story.
They’d shuffled the teens to their rooms for the night, and Ed invited Stede back down to the hotel bar, which was every bit as much of a shitshow as it had been two nights before. They ordered drinks and settled at the table farthest from the bartender.
Ed lifted his glass, took a sip, and then said, “You never told me, you know, your long story, and I’m very curious how…” He paused, thinking about how he wanted to put it. “You’re different now.” He looked down, studying his hands against the glass and waiting while hoping he wasn’t overstepping. He looked up to see Stede smile, but it seemed strained, and Ed knew he’d made a mistake.
Stede started talking anyway. “When we met, I think I told you that I had a lot going on, but I don’t remember…Well, I wouldn’t have said anything, I’m sure. My wife of twenty years was divorcing me after telling me she was having a long-term affair with her best friend. She also told me I was a useless partner and an inadequate father, all while my own father was crushing the spirit out of me daily via my soul-sucking corporate job. I had just moved into a shoebox of an apartment and was absolutely stewing in my own misery.”
Ed felt his mouth hanging open at that absolute litany of pain. “Fuck, mate, that’s a lot.” He laughed. “No wonder you decided that Alma’s knitting was the thing you could fix.”
“Only you were right. I wasn’t running at the things that I actually needed to address. I would thank you for that correction, but that meeting caused as many issues as it helped, or…” Stede laughed, a single bright sound. “I really didn’t know I was gay, somehow, so I had to add that to the pile. I thought all marriages were as miserable as mine.”
“Comphet is a hell of a drug.”
“That it is. I mean, I did figure it out.”
“I’d say you did.” Ed smiled at him, giving it a little curve of flirtation to let Stede know how much he appreciated that figuring out.
Stede seemed to lose his focus for a moment. Then he swallowed hard and said, “So after we talked, I started therapy and didn’t listen to the advice at all and tried to resolve everything at once. I came out to my father, quit my job, expanded my pattern designing, bought a house, and took on more responsibilities with the children. It’s been the most chaotic, beautiful year of my life, but I’m not stagnant any longer, and I’m not miserable. The new life, it isn’t perfect, but it’s…it’s mine. Mine in a way I could have never dreamed of.”
Ed stared. It sounded wonderful, and he felt something like pride that anyone could do that—that Stede had done it. They both waited, nothing but the sound of their breathing, letting the quiet rest unbroken.
“That’s beautiful. It’s…I wish…” Ed shook his head, unable to find the exact words for how much he had messed up his own attempt. “I tried something like that, but I don’t think I got it right, or not completely. I’m not…I didn’t sprout. I tried changing the soil, but maybe I’m still the same bad seed.”
“Ed!” Stede protested, sounding sort of fucking horrified. “There’s no such thing! You’ve been so kind to me, and I won’t hear it!” He smiled his very bright smile and met Ed’s eyes. “To continue the metaphor, you changed soil, but maybe you still need water or sunlight.”
“Sunlight, huh?” And all the sunlight in the world was right in fucking front of him, and all he had to do was reach for it. Believe that he deserved to reach for it.
“Did you want to talk about it?” Stede asked.
Ed felt that impulse to reach for something snuffed back out. If he could never talk about Blackbeard ever fucking again, it could perhaps be a start. “No. I don’t. I told you, I was someone else before, and I set that aside thinking that I’d be happier, but it didn’t work. I don’t think I have the trick of it, being happy.”
“You’ll find it. I know you will.”