Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Now - May

He shouldn’t have picked up the phone. Nothing good ever came of answering a voice call. It was just that Alma never called, and what if it had been an emergency? What if Dizzy had been injured and needed someone by her side to gently stroke her tummy, and Ed wasn’t there for her? What then?

So he answered the phone and got taken for the fool he was. 

“Absolutely not.”

“Come on, Ed, pleeeeease. You’re the only one that she likes. I can’t ask anyone else.”

“Can’t you just come get her yourself?”

“I don’t drive,” Alma said flatly. 

Kids these days. “And you think I can just take the time off work?”

“You have more sway there than you’re pretending to. Don’t think I don’t know that Jackie would let you do nearly anything. Please? Dizzy can’t fly. You know how anxious she gets.”

Fucking Dizzy. Ed should have known better than to be taken in by the most muppet-looking six and a half pounds of dog in the world. He imagined her big brown eyes, her floofy black ears, and her tongue hanging out of her mouth. Absolutely dopey, and completely unwilling to trust anyone but Alma…and Ed, for some reason.

Anyone—Ed wasn’t thinking of anyone in particular—could stuff her into her travel crate and transport her across the country to Alma’s university. But Alma was correct that Ed was the only one she would feel happy and safe with. 

He sighed. “I’ll check. No promises. Don’t pretend this isn’t a big ask, Alma.”

“I know it is, but you’ve got a good heart. I know you’re going to come through for us. You love Dizzy just as much as I do.”

“Ha! Probably don’t.” Ed was lying. Alma would know Ed was lying because he’d been visiting Dizzy and taking her for walks three days a week since Alma had left for school last August. People didn’t spend nine months hanging out with a dog they hated. 

“Sure, but…just, please? I don’t know how else we’ll manage.”

“Yeah, I’ll let you know.”

Ed ended the call. Alma was a creative kid with resources, which meant she could probably figure something else out, but Ed knew why she’d chosen him over anyone else. 

Ed had first met Dizzy at a party at the Higgins-Allamby household. He’d been freaking out and had accidentally ducked into the same room Dizzy had been banished to for the duration of the event. She’d taken one look at him and joined him on the wide chair, snuggling in by his side and happily accepting gentle pets. She’d finally rolled on to her back and was getting some excellent tummy attention when Alma had looked in on her.

Her mouth dropped open, and she pointed at them. “How!”

“What?”

Alma shook her head. “She doesn’t let anyone but me touch her.” 

Ed looked down at the dog that currently had her entire belly under his palm. “Really?”

Dizzy, perhaps sensing she’d somehow been caught out, wiggled away from Ed and jumped down onto the floor. She trotted toward Alma, tail wagging. Alma sat down and let her jump into her lap. 

“She’s a chihuahua,” she said, as if that clarified anything. 

“Are you sure?” Ed asked, because he didn’t know that much about dogs, but that collection of googly eyes and hair looked more like a throw pillow. 

Alma rolled her eyes. “Of course, I’m sure. She’s a long-haired chihuahua, just means she’s furrier than the short coat ones. What’s important here is they tend to be one-person dogs, and I’m her person.” 

Ed held up his hands. “I didn’t do anything. She just jumped in the chair with me.”

Alma laughed. “I’m not accusing you of nefarious motives. She was my seventeenth birthday present, and in the last year, she hasn’t warmed up to anyone who isn’t me, which I don’t mind so much. There’s no way they would have let me have her if it wasn’t for the divorce. My parents—” Alma cut off, seeming to realize that she’d stepped in it. She paused, and then skipping past whatever she might have been about to say about her parents, she continued, “I wanted her really badly, so I’m glad she likes me best.” 

“Furball have a name?” Ed asked gruffly, not affected by any potential omissions about Alma’s parents and definitely not hiding out in here because of said parent. Parents. 

“Sooooo, um, Cupcake, which I thought was really cute, but it’s not what we call her. She has a nickname that stuck.”

“Yeah?” Ed asked.

Alma turned the dog to face Ed and pointed out her features. “She’s small. She has a black coat, and she has, um, barky, uptight energy. She doesn’t like people.” Alma scratched the dog’s ear. “And you know Louis is in the robotics program, so he mentioned the resemblance…”

Ed started to giggle. “Shit. Shut up, you’re not actually calling her Izzy?” 

“Mizz Dizzy Handz,” Alma said, overemphasizing the ”z” sound. “Most of the time just ‘Dizzy’ or ‘Mizz Dizzy.’ She likes it. Don’t you, Mizz Dizzy?” 

Dizzy responded by jumping out of Alma’s lap and wagging her tail furiously. Alma scratched her head again. 

Ed snickered, unable to stop himself. “He’d fucking hate that.”

“Good thing Louis never mentioned it then,” Alma said reasonably. “Ed, will you do something for me?”

Ed’s heart dropped, worried that Alma would ask him for the one thing he couldn’t do, and he didn’t know how to tell her that he couldn’t talk about it, much less act on it. 

But she didn’t. “I’m leaving for college in August, and I’m required to live in a dorm the first year because I’m out of state. I didn’t think I would have to leave Dizzy, but it’s the best school for my program.” Her voice wavered, and Ed watched her carefully suppress her tears. “I hate that she’s not going to have me.” She looked up at him. “Would you look in on her? It would mean a lot to me to know that she’ll still get to be around someone she likes.”

“I don’t know if—” Ed had been about to protest that it was unlikely Dizzy liked him all that much. 

Louis opened the door. “Alma, mom’s looking for you. She said that you need to be at your own graduation party.” Dizzy took the opportunity to fly at Louis and bite the toe of his tennis shoe. Her teeth skidded across the material while she growled.

“Dizzy, off!” 

Dizzy looked over at Alma, and then backed away from Louis while keeping an eye on him. 

“Tell her I’ll be there in a minute, okay?”

Alma pushed to her feet as Louis swung the door back closed, apparently intent on keeping Dizzy in the room and away from his feet.

“Just think about it, maybe? Seriously, she doesn’t like anyone else.”

“Yeah, I’ll think about it,” Ed agreed.

“Also, Ed…” Alma twisted her hands together, her gaze fixed over Ed’s right shoulder. “I’m sorry about you and Dad. I—”

“I can’t—”

“It’s my fault!” She shifted her eyes to him and away again.

A shocked laugh escaped Ed, and he felt a little sick to his stomach, but for fuck’s sake, it was nonsense. “Alma, what happened between us isn’t your fault or your business.”

“But I…it was me. I said—”

“It wasn’t anything you said. It was me, okay? I’m not a good person. I’m not someone who…” Ed shook his head. “I’m not talking about it. Go back to your party, and uh…congratulations,” he said as he remembered the card stuffed in his jacket. He stood and held it out. He was relieved when she took it from him, apparently willing to let the other topic go.

She opened it and laughed. “You’re ridiculous. I’m going to miss you.” She gave him a quick one-armed hug and then pulled back and left the room, keeping Dizzy inside with her foot. 

Ed stood there for a minute trying to process it all before he returned to the chair. It was a dickfuck of a conversation, and he was sure that the last thing he needed was a commitment to this Pokemon-ass dog. It would be just one more item on the list of things he was fucking up.

Dizzy, being left alone once again, jumped up onto the chair with Ed and squirmed in next to him. Stood to reason, really. Something about him that attracted small creatures with big, angry energy. At least while he was hanging out with Mizz Dizzy, he didn’t have to be out in the yard with the rest of the guests and the hosts. He sighed and promised himself he’d go out in a minute to make his excuses.

Three months after that, Ed had received his first call from Alma. She’d left for school a few days before, and Dizzy, once she’d realized Alma wasn't coming back, had freaked out. She’d crawled under Alma’s bed, sitting in the dark recess beneath it, huddled against the wall and refusing to be coaxed out by Mary.

Evelyn and Louis were already out of the question since she didn’t even tolerate them. Of the remaining members of Dizzy’s household, she liked Mary best, and Mary wasn’t budging her. Worried, Mary had called Alma, who suggested they call Ed, of all people. He had gone, partially because he liked Alma and partially out of sheer fucking desperation for any kind of change, though he would be loathe to admit it.

He sat on the floor of Alma’s bedroom, careful of his knee as he lowered himself, and waited. Dizzy came out from under the bed a few minutes later, a mournful expression on her face as if needing to tell Ed about how much she had been abandoned, unloved, and left to no one but her own family for attention.

Ed gently scratched under her chin and then snugged her into his arms, carrying her out of Alma’s bedroom while Mary closed the door behind them. 

She sighed. “Knew a dog was a bad idea, but she’ll adjust eventually. I think she was waiting for Alma to come back.”

“Don’t mind helping,” Ed said. “Alma asked, back at her graduation party, but I didn’t think she was serious.”

Mary made a sound, sort of painfully amused. “Dog’s a brat. Aren’t you, Dizzy? If you’ll just put her down in the backyard, she can go pee, and we can figure out how to contain her while she’s adjusting. No more access to bedrooms for sure.” 

“I could come back and spend time with her, until she’s more comfortable,” Ed heard himself volunteering. “Take her for walks or whatever.”

“She doesn’t walk. Or she doesn’t walk for me. You’re welcome to try.”

Which was how Ed ended up with a part-time volunteer dog walking gig for a wayward tricolor long-haired chihuahua by the name of Cupcake aka Mizz Dizzy Handz. It was also why, when Alma was finally able to have Dizzy with her at school, she’d reached out to Ed first. 

She’d followed up her request with her address and dates. Ed had punched it into an app to look at the drive time, which would be fifteen fucking hours each way. He could maybe drive seven or eight hours a day, if he didn’t have to walk after, meaning he’d have to take off at least four days, two there and two back.

He wanted to bitch about losing a potential vacation, but he knew he wasn’t otherwise taking one. He’d spent a good portion of the last year letting anything that wasn’t his job at the community center rot while he wallowed in misery. Dizzy was maybe the only reason he wasn’t a fucking shut-in, and he thought he likely owed her something in return. 

Only his meeting with the community center’s director didn’t go quite how he’d imagined it. Jackie was both practical and ruthless, with a fierce commitment to the daily grind necessary to keep a non-profit afloat. 

“It’s cute you think Jackie doesn’t have a schedule for next month. You know community centers run on people. You think those little knitting kids are going to be teaching themselves? You can have one day, and I’ll ask Wee John to fill in. More than one day, and you’re paying for his time. Got me?”

“How am I supposed to drive thirty hours in one day?”

“They’re called days off, Teach. You usually have two a week, so that’s seventy-two hours, which is more than thirty. I’m being generous. Get out of my office.”

He messaged Alma to let her know that it was dicey. He could drive ten hours a day, but work would be a disaster when he got back, and he didn’t think that it would really be practical, given everything else. 

Alma messaged him back, unphased: I’ve solved it! Everything’s great. I’m getting a second driver.

Ed finally saw the trap he’d been so neatly swept into. There was no one else she would ask, was there? Someone with a flexible schedule and disposable income? Ed was a fucking easy mark—set up and knocked over. He might have seen it coming if it weren’t for all the fucking distracting misery.

He knew he could refuse. He could stay home and let Alma figure out her own shit, but he wasn’t going to. Because given the opportunity, even if it scarred him further, he wanted to see Stede Bonnet again. 

###

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Stede said softly. “I don’t think that he’ll—”

“He already said yes,” Alma said over him.

“Yes to the trip or yes to the trip with me?”

“Both, Dad, I swear.” 

Stede suppressed a sigh. Ed couldn’t have agreed, because what could have changed now that hadn’t changed in the last year? 

“I’ll think about it. Text me the details.” Stede took a deep breath, and deliberately redirected the conversation. “How did your finals go?” 

Stede listened as Alma broke down her classes, fidgeting because he badly wanted to be off the phone so he could think. That made him feel guilty because of course he wanted to hear whatever Alma had to say, but he was deeply unsettled by the first part of their conversation.

He was relieved when Alma said that she had to go. He told her that he loved her and hoped her week was good, and then he ended the call and navigated into his contacts. He paused, not believing that it would be any different. He considered, and then simply typed: Hello.

He waited. Nothing had changed. He was still blocked. 

He sighed and slipped his phone into a pocket, pacing around his house while he tried to think it through. Taking Dizzy wasn’t an issue. He had the time, though it was true that she didn’t like him any better than anyone else who wasn’t Alma…or Ed.

He felt something like an ache in his chest, and it was silly because it had been a year now, and it was time to move on. Ed wasn’t going to forgive him. That much was clear at this point. But maybe there was a chance, if nothing else, that they could finally have something like closure. Stede hoped that he could at least feel less raw about it. 

So he’d go. He sat down on the nearest chair and then stood up again immediately. It was fine to say he’d go, but going would mean hours in the car. He pulled his phone back out of his pocket and checked—thirty hours on the drive alone. Ed was still angry enough to have him blocked. How would they ever manage that much time together? Anything that had felt like sadness and regret was rapidly transforming into churning anxiety. He didn’t think he could do it. He tried and failed not to think of his last glimpse of Ed, at Alma’s graduation party.

He’d known that Ed would be a guest. He’d wanted to see him, but he’d also known that if he managed to make a spectacle of himself, Mary would kill him and let Evelyn dispose of his corpse.

Only Stede hadn’t had any success reaching Ed any other way. Jackie had banned him from doing anything other than dropping Louis at the door of the community center, and Ed didn’t seem to be anywhere else. Stede was still very much blocked, and all he wanted to do was let Ed know that he knew how badly he’d messed up. 

He hadn’t been sure what they were doing, and he’d been so scared. He’d thought there would be a later, but he’d destroyed their later. He hadn't thought what he was doing was forever, hadn't been thinking at all really. By the time he realized what he’d done, it was too late. He wanted to let Ed know how sorry he was. How much sorrow he felt for failing to see what Ed had once wanted.

He wasn’t there at the party as far as Stede could tell. He kept accepting handshakes and hearty shoulder pats like he’d had much at all to do with Alma’s academic success. As Stede had so painfully learned, he only ticked the “adequate” box in his performance as a parent. Alma had done most of the work, and Mary most of the practical support, and Stede…Stede had what? Paid for it all? Useful of him.

Stede finished the most recent polite exchange and wondered if there was anyone who would even be willing to tell him whether or not Ed had come. He knew that Ed would though. He was too fond of Alma to not at least put in an appearance, and Stede hoped he hadn’t missed him while he was trapped talking to other people. He looked toward the house, and there was Ed.

He was coming out of the back door. He hadn’t dressed up, clad in the same black motorcycle jacket over a black tee and leather pants that he defaulted to, almost like a uniform. Admittedly, if Stede thought he would look that good in the same ensemble, he might try to pull it off, but he knew for a fact the outfit washed him out. His beard was gone. No, it was there, but shorn to a fraction of its former glory. Ed’s silvering hair was pulled half up, some of it loose around his shoulders, and he looked tired. Worn out, like he hadn’t been sleeping well. There were dark circles curving under his eyes. He still looked lovely, like there was some kind of ethereal glow to his misery.

Misery. But it couldn’t, wouldn’t be because of Stede…could it? Not after a month. Not after everything. Then Ed saw him, and he brightened. Stede was sure, for the space of a long breath, Ed was happy to see him. Then the moment passed, and he wasn’t. Ed’s face shut down—smile flattening out, eyebrows straight, frown lines forming between them. He started to turn away, toward the open gate on the side of the house that was acting as the party’s entrance, and Stede didn’t think. He cut directly across the yard, ignoring any bid for his attention, not willing to let this one chance slip through his fingers.

He caught Ed at the side of the house. “Ed, please. Just a minute.” He was shocked by the desperation in his own voice, how transparently he needed this. 

“Don’t think so.” Ed didn’t pause, still treading away from him. 

“Ed, please, I’m so sorry.” Stede called after him. “Just please let me tell you how much I regret—”

That caught him, pulled him to a stop. Ed paused for a moment, took a long breath, and turned. “Regret? Don’t fucking tell me about regret. Damage is done. I don’t want whatever you have to offer.”

Stede knew the words were true. He had very little to offer, and the bit he had offered had been deficient and shot through with fear. “Okay, I…that’s fair. Just, please, Ed, I know I don't deserve you…your time or consideration. Just please know that I left because of me, because I was afraid. You…you’re the best—”

“No.” Ed shook his head. “No. No. No. I can’t. I need—” He took a sharp breath. “No. Goodbye.” He spun away from Stede, rapidly making his way toward the street.

Stede might be useless, but he knew what a boundary looked like, and that it was firm. It was time to give up. Only he hadn’t. Or he’d tried. He’d lasted a month, and then he’d texted. Blocked. He didn’t know why he’d thought Ed might have changed his mind. Maybe because he’d hoped if he confessed his mistake, apologized, that Ed would somehow understand. That they could somehow still fix this.

It had been a year now. There would be no mending of what Stede had broken. He was still teaching himself how to let it go instead. 

Only this planned trip didn’t feel like he was trying to let it go, did it? No, he was making one last grab at hope. He had therapy before they were scheduled to go. He’d discuss the best way to honor Ed’s boundaries. They’d get through it, and maybe he’d finally be able to move on.

When Stede realized that Ed would not be unblocking him, even for the trip, he relayed his messages through Alma. He felt rather silly, but Ed had set that boundary for a reason, and he wasn’t going to protest it when he was just trying to find some kind of peace about the situation. They agreed to meet at Mary’s Saturday morning, collect Mizz Dizzy and all of her accoutrement, and get an early start. 

They were taking Stede’s car, and he had told Alma to assure Ed he would be covering all of the costs—gas, lodging, food—as they made their way across several states to Alma’s university. Stede still found himself filled with nervous certainty that he was doing it all wrong or that he was going to mess everything up. The car was well maintained. There was room in the back for all of Dizzy’s things. He’d gotten a road atlas in case of catastrophic GPS failure. He’d even packed a bag of snacks, remembering Ed’s love of sweet things. 

Finally tired out by his own worrying, he played a game of what was the worst that could happen. He started small, perhaps a blown tire or getting lost, but that wasn’t what really had him so worked up. So he did the real one—Ed was furious at him, tired of him, abandoned him on the side of the road, and he was eaten by some kind of tree cryptid. Even in that case, Ed would probably finish taking the dog to Alma, so it wasn’t all bad news. He wasn’t thinking about the version where they were all eaten by cryptids, and the only clue to their mysterious disappearance was the abandoned car, doors still open. He hoped the podcast would be entertaining. 

He tried not to think of the other scenario. The most devastating one. The one in which he talked, Ed finally heard him, and he got him back. At least if he got eaten, it would be over quickly. If he thought about this one, and it didn’t happen, he didn’t think he could survive it. 

Once he’d exhausted both his list of useful preparations and his imagination, he moved on to things that were useless, but satisfying. He reselected his wardrobe several times, trying to find the balance of road-trip practical and still sharp. He spaced that out with repacking his knitting several times, also trying to find the middle ground between things that could be done in the car and things that wouldn’t bore him to tears. Pack and unpack. He repeated the cycle and felt the week before the trip stretch into a century. By Friday, he was such a mix of hope and nerves, he couldn’t tell if he was going to be sick, pass out, or float away.

This was his only shot, and he was going to botch it. After all, that’s what he did. That’s why he was in this situation in the first place. He’d already damaged his relationship with Ed beyond repair, and trying to repair it now—. He corrected himself. It wasn’t repair. It would’t be repair because Ed still wasn’t talking to him. Closure. This was closure, and he could live with it.

He arrived at Mary’s ahead of schedule and sat in the car for a few minutes knowing that he’d arrived earlier than was polite, but it was the only way he could handle all the jittery energy currently possessing him. When it was closer to the correct time, he went to the door. Louis greeted him with a hug and invited him in to start loading Dizzy’s things. They carried them out, chatting, and then carefully arranged them in the trunk, so the ones needed for the trip were at the front. Stede centered Dizzy’s empty travel crate in the back seat and buckled it in to make sure that she would be safe and secure as they drove. 

Everything was ready to go, minus putting Dizzy in the car. Also, Ed still hadn't arrived. Stede checked his watch. It was still a little early, and he wished he could have sat at home until a proper time to leave. He was about to suggest that they go wait inside when a car pulled up, and Ed got out.

Stede watched as Ed opened the back passenger door and took out a couple of bags before slamming it shut. Made sense for Ed to get a ride and not leave a car at Mary’s over the weekend. Ed waved, and the driver pulled away, middle finger raised as he passed Stede. Stede sighed. Stede had questioned Izzy’s choice of available motors for Louis’s robot one time more than two years ago, but it turned out the man could hold a grudge for eternity. 

Stede stared after the departing car, knowing why he was thinking about Izzy. It was easier than looking at Ed. He forced his gaze back to him. It was time to face the music, whatever that music happened to be. He squared his shoulders, put on a bright smile, trying to be ready for anything. One way or another, he was going to come through this experience. 

“Hello, Edward!”

Chapter Text

Now - June

Stede hadn’t thought that a thirty-hour car trip with a man who wasn’t speaking to him would be easy, but it turned out to be harder than he’d imagined, because Ed was speaking to him. Barely. They had their first argument before they even started the car, both of them insisting on driving the first leg of the trip.

Driving first wasn’t even important to Stede. It was only that when he’d pictured it, he’d thought he would be driving, which would make it easier to process whatever Ed said or didn’t say. Instead, he yielded the job to Ed, who adjusted everything and grumbled as he changed the music selection to something loud enough that Stede had to slide in his noise-reducing earplugs.

Also Ed refused to look at the directions, saying that he knew where the fuck he was going, all while Dizzy whined in her crate in the back seat. Stede concentrated on making his breathing slow and even, while he tried to figure out why Ed had agreed to this if he didn’t even want to be in the same car as Stede.

The music blasted, and the road unspooled in front of them. They were plus four hours and out of the state before Ed finally agreed to stop for gas and a bathroom break. They exited to a huge travel stop—a gas station surrounded by a cluster of restaurants and parking. Ed pulled into the fueling area and stopped in front of a pump.

“I’ll get the gas if you’ll get Dizzy!” Stede said cheerfully, and Ed glared at him. “What?” he asked, truly not understanding how there could possibly be a problem since it was what Ed was here for, to be the person who Dizzy trusted. 

“Knee’s bad. Need a minute.” 

“Oh, why didn’t you say something? I told you that I didn’t mind driving.” Stede couldn’t quite help the desire to fuss. “Just stay there, and I’ll take care of everything.”

“Don’t need you to tell me how to manage my own body. Just stay out of my way.” Ed popped open the door and groaned on his way to standing before leaning on the car. He stretched out his leg and massaged his fingers into the muscles surrounding his knee. While he worked on it, Stede exited the car and moved to the back so that he could get Dizzy’s leash and travel water bowl. He clipped the leash to her collar and placed her on the pavement where she promptly dropped onto her butt, unwilling to move for him. 

“Mizz Dizzy, aren’t you going to be a good girl for me? Hmm? Come on, just a little walk over to the lovely doggy grass to stretch our legs. Won’t that be a treat for a very good girl?” Dizzy looked up at him, but didn’t budge. 

“I’ve got her,” Ed said, having walked around the car. He took the end of the leash carefully, not letting his hands touch Stede’s, then said, “Come on, Dizzy, let’s walk.” She bounced to her feet and happily trotted alongside Ed to the fenced dog area. 

Stede sniffed, trying not to feel rejected, and went back around the car to manage the gas. When the tank was full, he moved the vehicle to the front of the store and went inside to use the restroom so that he could wait with Dizzy while Ed did the same.

Stede wanted to ignore it, but he could feel the pressure building in his chest. He’d believed that he’d be able to set aside the insistent ache of this break with Ed, but he hadn’t accounted for a situation where Ed had said less than a hundred words to him over the last four hours. He felt useless and unworthy, and he knew that he deserved to feel that way. There was still no choice but to get the job done. 

Ed returned with Dizzy, and they swapped the leash again, Ed disappearing into the store without a word. Stede sighed and carefully scooped Dizzy up and got her settled back in her crate. She turned a couple of times and curled up with her back presented to him, apparently feeling in no better humor with Stede than Ed was. 

“Would you like to get something for lunch?” Stede asked in a hopeful tone as Ed returned. 

“Can’t leave Dizzy,” he replied gruffly. 

“We could have a picnic”—Ed’s mouth pulled into a frown, probably too whimsical a suggestion—”or eat in the car.” Stede winced as he said it. His car wasn’t pristine, given that he’d owned it for several years of having children, but he didn’t make a habit of eating inside it. He was hoping this wouldn’t end with food on the upholstery. “The car’s fine!” he added brightly. 

Ed seemed to read the falsity and take it as yet another mark against Stede. His expression was conveying something like disgruntlement, but he offered, “Picnic’s okay.” 

They surveyed the restaurants crowding the wide space of the travel stop, and chose a sandwich shop, Ed giving Stede his order so that he could stay with Dizzy. Stede purchased the food and stopped at the car for a cooler before carrying both inside the fenced dog park to the picnic table that Ed had settled at with Dizzy. Stede sat the bag between them, giving Ed the opportunity to pull out his own sandwich. He put the cooler on the ground, opening it and taking out some reusable bottles of water. He cautiously set one down in front of Ed as if he might reject the offered food and drink, but Ed just pulled out his sandwich, opened the paper, and began eating. 

Stede looked around the area, which left something to be desired in regard to aesthetics—patchy grass and parking lot. The day was overcast, the sky a spiritless, uniform gray, and Stede felt misery tucking in around him again because there was beauty right here. It just wasn’t his to appreciate. As if sensing Stede’s eyes on him, Ed glanced over. 

“What?”

“You, uh...the beard,” Stede said, gesturing to the lower half of his face.

Ed put his hand to his own face as if he didn’t remember that he’d shaved off the huge mass of curls that used to fluff out down to his chest. “Yeah. Was done with it. Wanted to do something different.”

“I like the new look,” Stede said, eyebrows up over a careful smile. 

Ed smiled for an instant, there and gone again, and then looked away. “Hmph.”

“When you’re done with your sammie, there’s dessert.”

This was another thing that he was reluctant to suggest, but he’d made them, hadn’t he? He was clearly hoping that Ed might accept them. He lifted out a container carefully settled flat in the cooler and set it on the table. Marmalade tartlets.

Ed put his sandwich down and reached out, pulling off the lid and peering in at them. Stede had meant them as a peace offering, or that’s what he’d told himself. Now that he was looking at them on the table between them, he had to admit that it was a bid for a connection—do you remember this fondly too?  And having admitted that to himself, he was bracing for Ed to reject them, to deny that he enjoyed them. 

Ed looked at the tartlets nestled in the parchment paper, reaching out and touching his finger to the edge of the nearest one. It was there, right there to read on his face, that he did remember them fondly, that he too cherished this memory held between them. Stede waited for it to fade or for Ed to say he wouldn’t eat one, but he scooped it up, and placed it on his napkin.

“Hate for them to go to waste,” he mumbled. 

Stede looked away, giving Ed a moment to restore his equilibrium. The last thing he wanted was for Ed to feel like he was being pushed into something, or that he didn’t have space to catch his breath. So Stede carefully chewed his sandwich, doing his best to keep everything on an even keel. 

Ed, it seemed, wasn’t working within the same narrow constraints. He wrapped up the remaining bit of his sandwich and picked up the tartlet, taking a bite off the end. He moaned pornographically, low and satisfied, his eyes fluttering closed. Stede thought it was probably for the best that Ed couldn’t see him as he dropped his hand to his lap and subtly adjusted himself. Ed didn’t seem to notice, working on his third bite with precisely the same enthusiasm. 

Stede would have laughed if it weren’t so ridiculous, but he had a frame of reference for other contexts in which Ed made sounds like those. Ed continuing to moan was wreaking havoc on his ability to form rational thought. It was doubly cursed because, glancing over at him, he was sure Ed wasn’t doing it on purpose. It was one of the things that Stede had liked about him, the way he could lose himself in the sensuality of a moment. Stede forced down what felt like the driest bite of sandwich in the world and followed it with a swallow of water.

Ed was, thankfully, done with the tartlet. He dabbed his napkin at the corners of his mouth and finally seemed to notice that Stede wasn’t making nearly the same kind of progress. Stede shrugged, unwilling to raise the issue and hoping that Ed wouldn’t decide to have a second piece of dessert. 

He didn’t, instead bending down to run a hand over Dizzy’s back. She looked up at him, and then rolled belly up, her front feet wiggling in the air. He scratched her tummy to a chorus of chihuahua grunts, and Stede absolutely did not feel a stab of jealousy wishing Ed’s hands were on him instead. He very clearly needed some space to cool down before he said or did anything he regretted. He didn’t find that likely as the next thing on their list was driving in a car together for several hours more. 

Ed seemed to be thinking the same thing, but in a miserably different direction, because he said, “Hmm. I think maybe we should just get this over with. Swap off drivers and get to Alma's as soon as we can. Be done with it.”

No, thought Stede, but it wasn’t his choice to make. Also, even if Ed were in the mood to do so, he wasn’t in a state to drive. He’d already pushed himself too far today and shouldn’t be pushing further. 

So Stede would do it for him. He’d already hurt Ed plenty, so if all Ed wanted was a quick end to this ill-conceived reunion, then Stede would give it to him. He would drive to the point of exhaustion if that was all he was allowed to offer Ed. He reminded himself again that this was closure, not a second chance. So he nodded wordlessly in agreement, not trusting that there wouldn’t be a waver in his voice if he spoke. Ed, of course, didn’t see it because he was looking at Dizzy on the grass, so Stede forced the words out. 

“Yes, of course.”

Stede packed up the cooler while Ed disposed of their trash, before they both took a look at the new route on their phones. Another four hours would put them past their planned stop for the night. Stede had been looking forward to it because it featured a local yarn shop with a beautiful selection that he thought Ed might enjoy.

Instead of just catching the end of the shop’s opening hours, they’d be driving through entirely and stopping in a small town half an hour past for gas. Following Ed’s plan, they’d be at Alma’s around one in the morning. It was a nonsense time to arrive, but Stede wasn’t about to say so. They could have that battle when they got there.

They resettled Dizzy, and then Stede spent several moments undoing all of Ed’s adjustments, starting with switching the music to something softer and at a reasonable volume. Ed didn’t say anything to that, only hooking one of his bags out from behind the seat and propping it between him and the door so he could lean his head against it. He shifted the bag a couple of times before sighing and curling into it, apparently fully ready to take a post-lunch nap. Well, it wasn’t like Stede could begrudge him the rest, and he didn’t need company to drive. At least Dizzy had decided to nap along with Ed instead of crying for the next leg of the trip.

Stede drove through their planned evening stop with a pang of what might have been, but that, at least, was a feeling he was well used to. Some days it felt like he was nothing but regrets. Ed blinked awake as they navigated through a few stoplights within the city limits. Their next stop would be early for dinner and the one after that late, and Stede grappled with whether or not it was worth the argument to see if he could talk Ed into stopping for a meal.

Ed didn’t say anything after he awoke, just pulled his phone out of his pocket. Stede glanced over to see that he was looking at the GPS map instead of asking Stede where they were on their journey, so perhaps they were giving up on words altogether. He didn’t comment on that further breakdown in communication, instead focusing on the drive. He did not think of the hotel rooms he’d booked for tonight and which he’d been required to cancel. Or of the hot bath he’d intended to enjoy after spending all day in the car.

The next fight was completely predictable, and yet Stede had somehow thought that he would get a pass on it. Post-gas, bathroom visits, and mediocre granola bars instead of dinner (and didn’t that make Stede want to laugh or cry), Ed tried to take back over driving. 

“No.”

“It’s my turn.”

“I don’t care. You can have the next one. I’m driving this one.”

“And I said that it’s my turn.” Ed sounded deeply irritated.

Stede had no intention of budging. “You’re still stiff!” 

“It’s not like I can stretch out in the car, so what if I am? Told you to let me manage my own shit!”

“I don’t want to! You don’t get to tell me what to do, and I’m not going to let you further injure yourself out of stubborness!”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do either!” 

They both paused, staring at each other, chests heaving from the argument. Why was every bit of this so difficult?  Stede blew out a breath. “We can switch at the next stop, but I’m not ceding this one to you. Be a gracious winner for goodness’ sake, I’ve already given up dinner.”

“Thought you liked shitty granola bars,” Ed snapped, and they both froze. They were stepping around this so badly. 

Stede swallowed, and said more quietly, “Lost my taste for them. Get in the car. Please?” 

Ed, apparently shaken that he’d come so close to admitting that they had a past, got in the passenger seat without further argument, this time staying awake. 

###

Stede’s knuckles were bone white against the steering wheel. He was gripping so hard that Ed could watch his muscles flexing beneath his skin as he carefully steered them through the pouring rain.

Ed wanted to suggest that they pull over, but there was no safety in that either. They were on the leading edge of a huge storm. If they stopped, instead of escaping it, they would catch the very worst of it, inside a fucking car. This was his fault.

He was the one who’d insisted on driving straight through to Alma’s and also the fucking asshole who didn’t check the weather ahead of them. If they’d stopped where they were supposed to, where Stede had fucking planned for, they wouldn’t be anywhere near this monster. He’d dragged them into this because he’d agreed to this trip and then couldn’t face the meaning of this trip.

He’d…what had he told himself that he was doing? Taking Dizzy, sure, but the truth was that he had wanted to see the man he couldn’t move past. He hadn’t anticipated how much seeing Stede Bonnet would bring up, in huge drowning waves, all the things he couldn't forget. He thought he’d never eat those tartlets again, and here he was savoring one on his tongue like the sweetest of memories, and he was not going to survive this. So he’d asked to skip it, to slam right through it rather than face hours more of honesty, of feelings. And he’d put them in danger. 

“We can still make it out.” Stede sounded eerily confident. “We just need to find a safe place to wait for it to pass. Can you check and see if there’s a hotel…motel, shelter…anything nearby?” 

Ed swiped out of the weather app where he’d been watching, with a kind of grim fascination, their imminent doom moving in behind them at 70 mph. He reloaded the navigation app, peering at it for a potential place to go. 

“There’s a town just ahead with a motel. Don’t know about a shelter.”

“A building is better than a car or a ditch,” Stede said evenly. “Straight ahead?”

Ed nodded and said, “Just stay on this road.” 

The rain moved from pelting to sheeting down, the highway barely visible between passes of the windshield wipers. Stede was forced to slow the vehicle. He made a miserable sound, and Ed could feel what he imagined Stede felt—desperation that they were not going to reach shelter before they took the brunt of the storm. If they didn’t, they would be trapped on the side of the road while it swept past, bombarding the windows with golf ball-sized hail. 

Stede took a shaky breath, but he was keeping the car steady on the road. “We’re going to get there, but just in case—”

“Don’t fucking just in case me,” Ed said miserably.

“We could slide off this road any moment, and I’m not…” Stede took a sharp breath and declared, “I love you.”

“No.” Ed shook his head automatically. “You don’t get to say that to me.”

“I know, and I respect that, but I’m not letting it go unsaid if…if this goes badly.”

“Now? You want to do this fucking now?”

“When else?” Stede asked with an edge of humor.

“Any time in the last fucking year!”

“Didn’t happen, so now will have to do.” Stede paused, and then said, “I wanted everything with you.”

Ed shook his head, feeling his eyes pricking with tears. “Anything but that,” he whispered, not sure if Stede would hear him over the sound of the storm. “Please, anything but that.” 

“They were the best three days of my life,” Stede said anyway.

Of all the scenarios, of all the things that might have been, this was not one that Ed had imagined. He knew he’d been discarded, his words unanswered, unheeded. They shouldn’t be here when he was raw and scared and defenseless.  

A sound blared through the car. It was an emergency alert hitting both their phones simultaneously. The message advised them to shelter in place and to move to the interior of their building because there was fuck-off big hail, as if they’d somehow missed the thing that was coming for them. They were in danger, and all Ed could feel was relief because this at least was a danger he knew how to face. 

Ed updated Stede with a calm he wasn’t actually feeling. “Still in front of the storm, and the motel’s just up ahead. On the left. Sunset,” Ed added, unsure whether or not the sign would be visible.

Stede slowed further, and Ed’s heart stuttered as if giving up any speed at all would allow the storm to reach them before they could get inside. He realized that Stede was following a slow curve in the road, before turning into the driveway. The motel was a single brick building with a slightly peaked roof and a narrow awning. The office was on the far right. 

“No reason we both have to get wet. I’ll get us some rooms,” Stede said as he parked the car next to the office. “Be right back.” He pushed the door open, slid out, and shut it again quickly, leaving the keys in the car. Perhaps he was expecting Ed to have to flee without him. This entire episode was giving him horror movie vibes, but maybe it was just the storm still moving up behind them. 

Ed could feel the way fear was pushing him in conflicting directions, hair raising on his neck as he watched the storm on the horizon. It was paired with the dread that Stede would keep talking, that Stede could mean the things he was saying, and he couldn’t deal with both. He would get into his fucking room, tunnel under the covers, and it could all wait until tomorrow. He’d be okay. 

Stede came out of the office and trudged back toward the car, his hair getting wet enough to drip in the short distance between the two. He tugged the door open and sat down, closing it swiftly behind him. He looked miserable. 

“There’s only one room available. I took it, of course. We should hurry.”

Ed’s stomach dropped. Of fucking course, and it was his own damn fault. All he’d wanted was a little fucking space to reset, and he wouldn’t be getting it now. He didn’t say anything, sitting in silence as Stede drove them to the opposite end of the motel. Stede parked in the space in front of room number three. Rain was sheeting off the awning, creating a steady downpour they’d have to pass through to get into the room. 

“Just go,” Stede said, passing Ed the door key. “I’ll get everything.”

Ed narrowed his eyes, having already reached his tolerance for being told what to do. He slammed the car door behind him and marched through the mini waterfall, getting the room door open. Then he came right back and wrenched open the rear door, unbuckling Dizzy’s crate. 

“Ed!” Stede protested. 

Ed ignored him, leaning his body over the hard plastic sides of the crate to keep water from dripping into the vents. He could feel water running down his neck and under his collar, joining the splotches that were already soaking through his shirt. He put Dizzy down well inside the door and turned around to go back out, meeting Stede coming in. He was carrying Ed and Dizzy’s bags, as if by not getting his own, he could keep Ed from helping him. Ed stepped around him and went back out to the car, taking one of Stede’s bags and moving to the front to pull his other one out. He carried both into the room, dropping them on the floor before starting back out. 

“Don’t! It’s fine. This one has my stuff,” Stede said, stepping in front of Ed to pull the room’s door closed while he clicked the fob to lock the car. “Just…” Stede reached up and pushed his wet hair off his forehead. “Just stop. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“No, you fucking shouldn’t! You don’t get to say those words to me. Do you understand me? They’re fucking mine.”

“You gave them to me. I’m not giving them back.”

Stede looked sad and wet, but determined, and Ed could feel the shell he’d built around his heart fucking cracking. He was so fucking tired. All he wanted was the safety he’d once thought Stede could offer. You were the sunshine.

They stared at each other across the ugly carpet. The motel room left everything to be desired—outdated, worn, and featuring a single queen-sized bed. It was late, and the storm was rushing in, wind howling outside and rain pelting against the door.

“I don’t wanna fucking talk about it. I’m wet and tired, and I don’t even want to fucking look at you. I’m sleeping in the bathtub.”

“Ed! I insist you take the bed. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“What part of I don’t want to look at you did you not hear? I can’t—” Ed had been reaching for anger and found himself choking on grief instead. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, and he was barely holding himself together. He needed to be alone. He wanted the fucking peace he’d asked for.

He shot Stede a desperate look, and Stede nodded before dropping his head.

Ed took a long breath and let it calm him. Let the intensity ebb. “It’s whatever. You have two minutes to piss and brush your teeth.”

“You know I can’t pee on a deadline!”

Ed felt his shoulders relax further. Stede was honoring his unspoken request, was cracking a joke, was giving Ed exactly the room he needed. He could feel the pressure in his chest loosen.

“Not my problem, mate. Hustle or you can go try it in the fucking deluge.” 

Ed went to move Dizzy’s crate and realized that his shoes were squelching. He toed them off and peeled off his soaking socks before moving the crate deeper into the room, against the interior wall. He put his fingers through the door grate to scratch under her chin. 

“Not safe yet, Mizz Dizz, you’ll need to stay in there just a little longer.”

He stood, questioning his commitment to this wildly bad plan, and decided to go with it, given that the alternative was sharing a space with all of Stede’s earnestness. He moved to the bed, stripped off the quilt in a few jerky pulls, and bundled it up into his arms. 

Stede didn’t say anything, just shifted his suitcase around to unzip it and take out his toiletry case. He started for the bathroom and then seemed to notice that he was just as soaked as Ed. He put his case down on the sheets and quickly stripped out of his own socks and shoes. He didn’t look at Ed as he unbuttoned his skinny jeans and then tried to fight the sodden denim down and off his legs. Ed watched for only a moment before turning his back.

Stede was making an absolute assault of sound before—by Ed’s guess—he crashed onto the mattress still tangled in the wet death trap of his pants. Ed took a deep breath in and considered. Alma’d probably be pissed if he let her dad concuss himself over his silly fashion choices. He took a tiny peek. Stede was fine and probably hadn’t hit his head. He was just tangled up and stuck. It wasn’t funny. He wasn’t going to laugh.

Or offer to help. “Do you need help?” Fuuuck. 

“No thank you! I’ve just about got it!” Stede was rolled up like a pillbug, his feet in the air as he inched the fabric down one calf. Ed really didn’t mean to let his eyes travel down the long length of Stede’s leg. Couldn’t even claim habit; they’d barely been together. It was just a terrible instinct or something—Stede’s briefs were soaked too.

Ed whipped back around, his fucking face warming up. “Gonna brush my teeth first then.” He draped the quilt over one arm and kept his eyes solidly focused on his own bag as he got out his toothbrush and toothpaste. He carried them and the crappy, thin hotel bedspread into the bathroom and dropped it into the tub. He’d slept in worse places. Not in his forties for sure, but he’d manage.

He heard Stede coming into the bathroom and glanced back. Nope. Still entirely too much of everything on view. Ed took a quick step around Stede, eyes on the floor for collected water. He would not be sliding into Stede’s arms in a fucking comedy of errors. He went back into the main room and rapidly pulled off his own wet clothes, draping them over the narrow desk chair to dry.

Ed was in the process of shucking his own clingy underwear when Stede came back into the room. Yep, and now he was standing there with his ass out, shining like the dawn or whatever. Fuck it. He didn’t care. He dropped the soggy boxer briefs on the floor and dug through his bag for drier clothing. He dressed without looking at Stede, who was quiet for once.

He’d been talking all day, driving Ed up the fucking wall, so it was a nice reprieve and not weird at all. Ed shot a glance at him to see Stede making a face that was…unreadable. Ed didn’t think he wanted to know what was going on in that head of his. It wasn’t Ed’s business. 

He lifted the strap of his second bag over his shoulder before walking to the bed. Stede was standing on the other side still watching him. Ed picked up one of the pillows.

Stede said, “I’ll wait up and take Dizzy out as soon as the storm passes.”

Ed wanted to have the fifteenth argument of the day. Out of the two of them, it was Stede who’d driven more, who hadn’t napped. And Ed was so fucking exhausted that he was going to let Stede do it. Well, at least he wasn’t taking the bed too.

“Okay.” He started toward the bathroom. 

“Night, Ed!” Stede called after him, and Ed didn’t acknowledge it.  

He shut the bathroom door and dropped the pillow into the bathtub. Then Ed listened to make sure that Stede wasn’t about to bust in before he picked up his other bag, carefully unzipping it and pulling out the object inside. Ed shoved the shower curtain well out of the way and shut off the light.

He crawled into the tub. It was a flimsy fiberglass enclosure and didn't feel like it was cradling him at all. It didn’t matter. He folded the pillow up to brace his neck at an angle and curled around the stuffie, letting his hand find a fin and snuggling his shoulders under the bedspread. He was so tired. Sleep was bound to come easily. He didn’t think he could stand to experience another moment of this fucking day.

Chapter Text

One Year Ago - April

Fucking corporations. Wasn’t like they could just donate funds to the community center for the robotics team, no, they’d given a sponsorship…with strings. It was fucking good, in that the kids now had access to all the components that they needed. Also their travel and lodging costs were covered for their competitions, but there were fucking guidelines.

Also, while Ed was loath to admit it, Blackbeard had the funds to offer a sponsorship, and the idea hadn’t even occurred to him until the Tricorne Corp offer was on the table. Anyway, Izzy probably would have spit at the money if it had come from Blackbeard. He was never one to easily accept help. 

It didn’t matter. By the time Ed had worked all that out, Jackie had already taken the deal, and the ball was rolling down the fucking hill or whatever—the die was cast, and the disaster couldn’t be averted. Not with the kind of person Izzy was. Because one of the strings attached to the donation was a series of team-building exercises meant to strengthen the robotics team’s bonds and cooperation. It wasn’t even a bad idea, maybe, in someone else’s hands…Hands?

Because Izzy Hands was not that kind of person. They were gathered on the center’s fenced back lawn, fifteen members of the robotics team grouped in a loose cluster on the grass. Ed was leaning against the building wall, having decided to spend his break watching the spectacle. Jim, expression stoic, was standing next to the kids, watching Izzy pace back and forth in front of them.

The team-building exercise was supposed to have been be group jump roping, but the kids had failed miserably, ending up in an uncoordinated sprawl of awkward teens and brightly-colored braided cotton rope. Israel Hands was not having it. If they were doing this, they were doing it right. They were going to be a fucking team. Thus the pacing, and the yelling. So much anger packed into that small form, and he liked to manifest it via a good rage stomp.

Too bad he had the fragile ankles of a baby deer. He was in full tilt, voice raised, fists clenched, when he put his foot right into a depression in the ground. It might have been okay if he’d been in his boots, but he was in trainers since they were out on the grass. His ankle bobbled and his leg went out from under him. He crashed to the ground in a shocking heap of angry little man, his pompadour hanging forward over his face. Ed had a fraction of a moment where he nearly laughed, but he wasn’t an entire asshole, so he’d rushed toward Izzy instead. Jim beat him there since they were much closer. 

“Don’t fucking touch me!” Izzy yelled when Jim crouched down next to him.

“Kids,” Ed reminded him.

“Pffft. Don’t f-ing touch me,” Izzy amended, and then tried to shove himself back up to his feet before the ankle went out from under him again. His face was red, maybe from pain, maybe from anger, maybe from the realization that the ankle would not support him.

Ed checked in on the assembled teenagers. “Hannah, go tell Roach we’ve got a medical situation.” 

Izzy glared. “I don’t need help! I don’t consent to treatment!” 

Ed was pleased to note that Hannah was disappearing into the building anyway. “Iz, we can’t leave you on the ground. Think of the children. Think of the example you’re setting.”

“Pushing through pain is valid!”

“Toxic. Also you can’t stand on that, so, at the moment, useless.”

Jim’s voice was quiet and serious. “If you can’t stand on it, it’s bad. We’re going to need to take you to urgent care.” 

“The fuck you will!” 

Ed was tempted, just for a moment, to let Jim handle Izzy, but he probably owed his longtime associate a touch more than that. After all, if it weren’t for Ed, Izzy wouldn’t be working with kids at a community center. 

“Take the kids in, Jim. I’ll stay with Izzy and make sure he stays off his feet until Roach can come look at him.” 

Jim started the process of herding the kids indoors, and Izzy rolled onto his back, left leg held stiffly out. “This is all your fucking fault. I was a real engineer before you started on this non-profit shit.”

Ed laughed hollowly. “Yeah, me too. Didn’t mean you had to follow me into this.” 

“Thought we’d be working together on some new horizon.”

“This is the new horizon. Teaching fiber arts is what I want to do now.” 

“You’re a fucking tw—”

“Iz.”

“Aren’t any kids here now,” Izzy said with a grin. “Just saying we’re better than this.”

“I said this is what I want to do. Don’t want to hear anything else about it.” 

Roach banged out the door, the center’s first aid kit clutched to his chest. He rapidly walked over to them and knelt by Izzy’s left ankle. 

“Jim said he can’t stand on it?”

“I can!”

“He can’t. Fell right back over.”

Roach shrugged. “His ankle’s probably couscous. We need to—”

“Not a fucking ambulance!”

Ed sighed. Izzy would come unglued if they tried to force the issue. “Tell Jackie I’m driving him to urgent care. I’ll pull my car around, and we can support him to the vehicle.”

The ankle, medically speaking, was not couscous—Roach was a cook with first aid training, not an expert—but it was very badly sprained, apparently grade 3. He would need extensive recovery time.

Ed felt a little miserable because yeah, Izzy wouldn’t have been stomping around on grass if it weren’t for Ed’s life choices, so a part of this was his fault. And what the fuck was he doing, anyway?

He’d presented it to Izzy like he was so set on this choice. The truth was that while he didn’t hate it, he didn’t feel like he was doing anything more useful or meaningful than what he had been doing before, and worse, he was…fucking playing pretend. Living in a one-bedroom apartment, driving a fifteen-year-old car, almost managing on his community center income, like he didn’t have stacks of money earning more stacks of money in dozens of fucking accounts and investments. 

He’d stopped giving interviews nearly ten years ago, and in the time since, the beard had grown kind of fucking long and very fucking gray. He’d hoped those two facts, and the slim likelihood that Blackbeard had gone incognito in a fucking community center, would be enough to preserve his peace. It had worked so far, and he didn’t see any reason why it couldn’t just keep on exactly like that. 

He liked working with kids. Liked the way their brains weren’t so set in the way things had to be. It was fun to see them come up with creative solutions to problems because they didn’t know how things were supposed to get done. He liked teaching, but also giving space to make mistakes and come back and try again. 

Except that it was only a single thing that felt better. Being rich hadn’t made him happy, and pretending to not have money again also wasn’t making him happy. Jackie had accused him of doing a “what if I was a regular dude” phase, and at the time he’d thought she was wrong. It wasn’t a phase, it was how he was living his life. 

Only it was a fucking phase, and knowing that he’d let Izzy follow him into this nonsense and then injure himself was making him especially unhappy. He knew his therapist would tell him that he wasn’t responsible for Izzy’s decisions, but it didn’t feel like that when he was in the middle of trying to fix the fallout. 

They needed to figure out what to do about next month's robotics competition trip since there was no way Izzy should be provided with the temptation to put weight on the sprain—the man’s stubbornness absolutely meant that he would be up and trying to walk long before the thing healed.  

With Izzy out, Jim would need to lead the robotics team and find someone that could fill in for their spot. While Ed could do it, there was no way he was popping his head up at a robotics competition, which meant it wouldn’t be him.

Ed was beginning to suspect they might have to cancel the trip and disappoint two sets of kids. He’d planned on taking a group of his knitting kids to Fleece & Fiber, but the only reason they were getting to go was because there was room on the robotics team’s bus and the dates matched. He supposed an “anonymous” donor could help the knitting trip go ahead, but it would be better if they could find a replacement chaperone instead of canceling the robotics trip. 

Help came from an unexpected source. Their new hire, a guy named Pete Black, said he was an expert at robotics and would be happy to step in. Based on what Ed had heard from Jim, it sounded like the man had likely exaggerated his skills, but Jim could handle the coaching, as long as they had another adult to meet their ratio for the kids. 

Ed, for his part, would be taking eight teenagers with help from Oluwande, who didn’t knit, but didn’t mind going with him to help chaperone the event. Ed was excited that they’d found a workable solution and that the kids would get to go on a cool trip.

Because they were in the school year, and little kids weren’t known for their coordination, his morning time was mostly spent with seniors or swapping in rotation for the pre-K craft time. He noted there was still a spot of glue on his wrist and picked it off. He was looking forward to his afternoon session with the older kids. It was fun to have an opportunity to teach—the seniors mostly wanted his ear to bitch, not his assistance. He went to the table they usually used and set out a couple of baskets of yarn. He didn’t know who Jackie had torn the ears (or noses) off of to get such a nice selection, but it had started showing up sometime last summer, and he was grateful. 

Once the space was prepared, he pulled out his own current project, determined to get a few rounds in. Ed especially liked toy making, but because there was usually a ton of shaping and thus counting involved, those projects weren’t the best choice for this time. Today he had a hat on his needles and kept knitting as he looked up to greet each person as they came in.

Alma was in today’s group, and it was always fun to see her work. She’d been knitting for just under a year now, and by all rights should still suck at it, but she had a stubborn streak and a willingness to dive into new skills. After she finished her first scarf, she did a blanket and then cabled fingerless mitts in the round, figuring out circular knitting and cabling at the same time. Kind of a ballsy move, and Ed was impressed. She’d kept right at it going from cables to lace and then more complicated lace. 

He couldn't help wondering if she got that from her parents. Not that he was thinking about her parents because that would be weird…as would be walking toward the front of the community center at the end of their time to see if he could capture a glance of Stede Bonnet picking up his kids. Ed wouldn’t have to do that if the man just came in. He never did.

Didn’t matter. Ed could just admire him from afar, while buying his knitting patterns, which was a normal thing to do with a designer he liked, yep. He’d noticed over the last few months that the pace had picked up a little. Stede was releasing more patterns, and Ed would love to ask about that. Only it would be weird to ask Alma how her dad was doing, right?

He looked over at her quickly knitting across a wide scarf that would be a lacy rainbow when finished, a design that he actually thought might be one of Stede’s patterns, and decided that, yeah, that would be weird. 

“How’s that scarf treating you?” he asked instead, like a normal person.

###

Stede Bonnet was a new man. Overstatement, perhaps, but he was doing better than he could have imagined. His checklist of things that made him miserable flipped around to something that was almost happiness. He couldn’t have envisioned this outcome last year when Mary had announced she was divorcing him. But that first step had allowed him to become more himself, and thus more content than he could have ever dreamed.

He’d come out, he’d quit his father’s company, he’d bought a roomy new house, and was working to make his knitting design thing, a thing. He loved the new home, with space for the kids, yes, but it also had an area for his new studio and office—two airy rooms with beautiful lighting.

It was a glorious day. It was unfortunate then, that his assistant was irritating the daylights out of him.  

Stede said, “What do you mean you’re not coming this weekend? It’s literally what I’m paying you for.”

“Very promising date, not that you’d know what that means, my little baby gay, but you’ll note that it’s allowed in my contract.”

“No, it’s not!”

“There’s a clause for emergency medical leave. I assure you that if I do not get dick it will be—”

“Lucius!”

“What?” Lucius asked with a smug grin. He continued, “All I’m saying is since you’re not teaching or doing a booth or whatever, you don’t really need me. And I need this. You should see the arms on this man. Do you want to see a—”

“Good grief, no!” Stede paused to consider the situation. “You’re right, I can make do without you, but when I am teaching a class…”

“I will be there with bells on, boss.” 

Stede sighed and started down a mental checklist of anything he might need to change. As far as his already packed bags, probably nothing. He would now need to make the drive alone, after he dropped off Alma and Louis at their bus. He was a little disappointed that Alma had declined to come with him to Fleece & Fiber, but he could understand why she would prefer to go with her friends. It was just that, since Lucius was now skipping too, the trip would be lonelier than he’d anticipated. He’d manage it. It would still be a treat to attend. 

“I really have no idea how I’ll do it without you,” Stede said with a smile.

“You’ve got this. And I’ll be back to doing your socials on Tuesday.”

“Don’t you mean Monday?”

“No, I do not,” Lucius said with a smirk.

Louis was fifteen, certainly old enough to pack his own bag for the weekend, and Stede had trusted him to do so. He had, mostly. 

“Daaaaad! Did you wash my lucky shirt?” 

Stede had washed the blasted thing, knowing that it was a must-have for the competition and very glad it wasn’t at Mary’s, or they would miss the bus altogether. 

“Check your laundry basket!” he shouted back.

“It’s not in there!”

Stede sighed, rapidly moving toward Louis’s room so he could help him locate the shirt and finish packing. The laundry basket was still in the middle of the floor, but the clean clothes were now mixed with discarded dirty clothes. It was also surrounded by fresh clothes, apparently tossed out of his open dresser drawers. Stede suppressed the urge to say something biting, strode over to the basket, and pushed his hand through the pile to locate the folded stack of T-shirts. He pulled the correct shirt out of the middle and handed it to Louis, who dropped it into his open bag. 

“Ready to go now?” Stede asked, trying not to look at his watch. He knew that the community center would have built a little leeway into their departure for the time-challenged, but at this point, they were pushing even that. 

“Thanks, and no…Charger.” Louis moved to grab it out of the outlet before placing it in the bag and zipping it closed. 

Alma was in the hallway, practically bouncing up and down on her toes. “I am going to be so mad if we miss the bus and have to ride with Dad. Come on!”

“I’m ready. Where’s your bag?”

“In the car!”

“As we all should be. Let’s get going.” Stede had an instinct to make sure Dizzy was in her crate, but she was over at Mary’s since they’d all be gone this weekend. So all there was to do was lock up the house and get to the community center before he had to make the drive with the addition of two cranky teenagers. 

The scene when they arrived was not at all what he was expecting. There were still several cars with waiting parents, and the kids were not on the bus but standing outside of it in groups. Stede told his children to get their bags out before walking across the lot in search of someone who seemed like they might know what was going on. There was a man wearing an orange and white beanie and a warm, if worried, smile, standing with a clipboard by the bus. 

“Do you know what’s happening?” Stede asked.

“Yeah, kind of a mess. One of our chaperones didn’t show up and isn’t answering our calls. He’s already a replacement, so we don’t have anyone that can easily take his spot. We’re trying to figure out if we’re going to have to cancel the trip, so we’re asking parents to wait.” 

Stede felt his pulse pick up. He could… “Does it have to be someone from the community center?”

“Hmm? Sorry, what?” the man asked. 

“I—Stede Bonnet, by the way, Alma and Louis’s dad—am going to Fleece & Fiber. I could maybe, if a parent can…”

The man grinned. “Really? Oluwande Boodhari.” He held out his hand, and Stede shook it. “Let me go talk to Jim and Jackie, and see if we can make this work. Can you pass a background check?” 

“Uh…yeah, yes. I’m sure I can.” 

“Okay, just, uh, wait here. This is great.” Oluwande rushed away, and Stede stood awkwardly next to the bus as Oluwande had asked him to.

He was suddenly regretting his quick jump to volunteering, grateful that he didn’t have any commitments at Fleece & Fiber that would prevent him from doing this, but also wondering if he was capable of doing the thing he’d just said he would. He flitted his eyes over the assorted groups of teens. He could figure it out, probably. All he had to do was…his eyes snagged on one figure in particular. 

He should have known, the man was in charge of fiber arts, and yet…Yep, wave of panic. Edward Teach. The man that Stede had been an entire asshole to, right before having a gay awakening about it. Fuck.

His first impulse was to flee—just get in his car and go. Sorry, children, Stede Bonnet has made a mistake! That route was closed to him almost immediately as Ed was already headed in his direction. He hadn’t talked to him since their first meeting because…it was, well, it was complicated. Because of the everything. So he’d just avoided going into the community center, and thus hadn’t had to address this in the last eleven months. He was going to address it right now, because Ed was here. 

Stede hadn’t recalled how hot he was, he was now realizing. His brain had downgraded it to a reasonable amount during their time apart, and it was not a reasonable amount. No wonder Ed had finally tipped the scales on a lifetime of comphet. Stede sucked in a deep breath and reminded himself that he was a different Stede than the one that Ed had met last year. He was not falling apart. He better knew who he was, and he was not going to mess up again.

“Ahh, Stede Bonnet. I am sad to announce that we don’t have complaint forms in the parking lot. You’re going to have to go inside if something isn’t to your liking.” 

“I’m not here to—” He snapped his mouth shut, already on the wrong foot, somehow. Calm. He had this. “I’m…I was dropping Alma and Louis off, but apparently, you’re short a chaperone, and I was going to—”

He was interrupted by the return of Oluwande. “Jackie says that should work. I’m going to need you to fill out this form, and then we’re going to run that check, and assuming you’re clear on it, we’ll be good to go.” He handed the clipboard to Stede and then seemed to notice Ed. “Oh, good timing!” he said cheerfully. “Since Stede here was headed to Fleece & Fiber, it makes sense to me that we’ll swap? I’ll help Jim, and Stede can help you!” 

Stede looked up from the form he’d been diligently filling in and glanced at Ed, who met his eyes. “Yeah, I reckon we could make that work. You okay with that?” he directed at Stede.

“Um, I mean, I could…share the responsibility with…Ed.” Stede sighed internally. He was not managing this in the least, and his heart was racing. He looked back down at the form, quickly entering the rest of his info, and handing the clipboard back to Oluwande. “I assure you I can pass a background check, so I’m just going to start unloading my bags from the car.” 

“Bags?” asked Oluwande. 

“It’s only four!” Stede offered over his shoulder. If he was careful, he thought he could even get most of them to the bus’s luggage storage in one trip. Only he’d been planning on driving, not sitting for the trip, so maybe he needed to pull out some knitting and get his snacks and water bottle. 

“Can I help you?” Ed said from behind him, and Stede looked at the line of suitcases in his trunk, wholly ready to claim that he could get them himself. “Sure, just let me…I need to get some things from inside the car.”

He pulled open the passenger side door and removed a tote bag from the floor board, pulling the straps over his shoulder. He returned to the trunk and unzipped one of the bags, lifting a smaller project bag from it and stowing it in the tote.

Then Ed was beside him helping him take out the other bags. “Were you intending to stay over the week?” he asked.

“No. This is for the next three days,” Stede said, unwilling to feel shame that he’d brought so much clothing. One never knew what needs might arise. 

Ed giggled. “Four suitcases? That’s overkill.” He grabbed the handles of two of the bags as Stede secured the trunk. They took the bags to the bus, and the bus driver assisted in loading them.

Oluwande was coming back again, this time with another person stalking beside him. They looked intense, and Stede recognized them immediately from Louis’s description. Louis thought Jim was the coolest person he’d ever met.

Jim broke into a smile as they got closer. “Really cool of you to help us out. Would have hated to disappoint all these kids. They’ve worked so hard to prepare for this competition.” They held out their hand. “Jim Jimenez.” 

“Stede Bonnet. Glad to be able to help,” he said.

From there things broke into a scatter of movement. The rest of the luggage was getting tossed into storage, children shooed onto the bus, and parents were finally exiting the parking lot. Stede felt lost in the chaos of it. 

“Hey,” Ed said from next to him. “Ready to go?”

“I think so,” Stede said, realizing that he didn’t feel ready at all, and that he was perhaps grateful he hadn’t had time to think about it or he might have entirely fallen apart over the prospect of this kind of responsibility. He was adequate, and he had this. “Yes.”

He followed Ed onto the bus, only to see that they’d reserved the first two seats to either side for the adults, and that Jim and Oluwande were already seated together, which meant he’d be spending the next three hours of this fine Thursday morning sitting next to Ed. Well, he’d try not to mortally insult him. Again. 

Chapter Text

One Year Ago - April

Stede slipped into the seat and rested his tote on his lap before having a moment of wondering if it was rude to immediately pull out a knitting project, even if the person you were sitting with was also a knitter. He cut his eyes to Ed to note that he wasn’t knitting, but his hands weren’t still. He was running his fingers over the seat upholstery before peering at the outlet for charging. 

Ed caught his eyes. “This is a pretty nice bus.”

“Is it?” Stede asked. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been on a bus but was relieved to see it had seatbelts. He buckled his and wondered if he should text Alma and Louis and remind them to secure theirs. 

A voice with a Scottish accent came over the announcement system. “I’m your driver, Mr. Buttons. As no one can predict the winds of change or the shape of traffic, I’d appreciate it if you'd keep your seatbelts fastened. Once we have that done, we’ll be getting on the road.”

There was noise of seatbelts clicking around Stede. He tucked his phone away and then recalled that he’d left the conversation with Ed hanging, and he still hadn’t decided whether or not it was acceptable to knit. Perhaps he’d wait until they were underway. He dropped the tote from his lap to the space under the seat. Once his lap was clear, he realized he’d left himself no option but to make small talk with Ed or sit silently and stare out a window. 

The bus was pulling out of the lot, Buttons guiding them out of town and toward the highway. Stede shifted, thought for a moment, and then asked, “So what’s the itinerary?”

“Drive. Arrival. Lunch. Check into the hotel. Divide the kids into groups and go to their separate events.”

“Hotel. Oh. I…I didn’t even think…” Stede already had a hotel, of course. A nice one that wasn’t the same one that his children were at because most of it had been reserved in blocks for the robotics competition, and he’d selected a hotel from the list for the fiber event, but a chaperone would be expected to be in the same hotel as the children, and…he glanced over at Oluwande and Jim, and then back at Ed. “Do I have a hotel room?”

“I’d say ‘we’ have a hotel room, really.”

“We. You mean, you and me…we would…”

“Yep.” Ed looked…not horrified by that prospect.

“That could be awkward, with uh, well, everything. Could we perhaps make it less awkward?”

“How do you propose we do that?”

“Bonding experience!” Stede suggested with growing excitement. “Not an ice breaker. We already have a shared goal, with the trip, but we could…” He smiled. “Tell me something you’ve never told anyone else. Exchange secrets.” 

Ed leaned in, angled toward Stede’s face and said quietly, “You want my secrets, mate?” 

Yes. Stede did, in a way he couldn’t begin to explain. “Would you tell me one?” he asked, equally soft.

Ed’s smile lifted into something that Stede could only identify as flirtatious. What was even happening right now?  “Sure. Love to, but it’s just the exchange part that’s important?” Ed looked him up and down and then said, “Want to do something weird?”

Stede laughed. “Like what?” 

“Trade with me. Clothes, knitting, snacks…or secrets if you prefer. Anything.”

Stede looked down at what he was wearing. The weather in April was unpredictable, as likely to be chilly and rainy as sunny and blazingly warm. Today was supposed to be cool, so he’d dressed in layers. He was in a teal sport coat, wool and linen, white button-down shirt, and a thin black scarf he had knit himself. He began unlooping the scarf from around his neck. Once he had it loose, he held it out to Ed, whose eyebrows were up.

He took it from Stede’s hand and ran his fingers along it, before lifting it and brushing it against his cheek. “Cashmere?” he asked.

“Yes, excellent identification! I love this yarn. I reclaimed it myself from an old cardigan. It was beautiful but couldn't be repaired. It hurt a little to take it apart, but I carefully unraveled it and washed the yarn, and voilà, sometimes life begins again.” Stede smiled warmly. “It will look lovely on you.” 

Ed’s face fell. “I can’t. I mean, I don’t have anything like this…I knit toys, mostly. I like the construction element.”

“Are you trying to tell me your bag is stuffed full of toys?” Stede asked, and Ed’s face went weird for a moment before he started giggling. 

“Uh.” Another loose giggle escaped. “No, not exactly. I do have one thing.” He paused, lifting up his beard and draping the scarf around his own neck before bending over and picking up his backpack from the floor. He unzipped the top and dug around for a moment before pulling something out and offering it to Stede. Sat on his palms was a black octopus, the underside done in reddish-purple. 

“Oh, Ed, it’s beautiful! Does it have a name?”

Ed curled one of the arms around his own wrist. “This is Kraken, he’s one of my favorites. Look at how the arms move,” he said, flipping one so that it curled. 

“Well, I couldn’t take Kraken from you if he’s special.”

“I think you might be the right person for him, and I know I can trust another knitter to take proper care of him. Also, he’s wool, so I’m really coming out on top in this one.” Ed shifted Kraken to one arm and touched his hand against the cashmere scarf trailing down his chest. 

“If you’re sure,” Stede said, holding out his hand and letting Ed curl one of Kraken’s arms around his wrist. “I will take care of him,” he said earnestly. 

Ed looked up, eyes meeting Stede’s. They were such a pretty brown, and they looked so soft. “Okay,” Ed said and smiled. “So is that it? Have we bonded?”

Stede resisted the urge to touch the scarf resting against Ed’s chest, feeling some impulse to confirm that it really was there. “I think so. We could still, uh, tell secrets or—”

“Wear each other’s clothes. We said clothes too.”

“I—”

“Just jackets?” Ed suggested. “Just for now, we can trade them back later.” 

Stede looked down at his coat and grinned. “Sure.” 

Ed was wearing a leather motorcycle jacket that Stede wasn’t sure would flatter him in the least, but the playfulness in Ed’s expression was so inviting.

“I think you’re going to have to help me get it off. Kind of a tight space.” Stede said, as he set Kraken in his lap and then turned to present his back to Ed. He slid one side of his coat off his shoulder before wiggling to help work it down his arm. 

There was a sharp intake of breath behind him, and Stede turned his head to look at Ed. “Everything okay?”

“Yep, great,” Ed said, reaching a hand out to help Stede maneuver out of the sleeve. When it was loose, Ed moved his hand to Stede’s opposite shoulder, slid his hands into the fabric and lifted it, so the coat slid off his other arm. It had been the briefest of touches, but Stede could still feel the lingering heat of it.

Ed picked it up by the collar and held it out to Stede as he began to remove his own jacket. 

“May I?” Stede asked. Ed dropped his hands from the buckle closure on the front. Stede had meant to offer the same service Ed had, tugging the end of the sleeve while Ed freed his arm, but now… He reached out and began unbuckling the jacket, and his cheeks were certainly not heating, as he thought of other buckles he could be pulling loose. Ed’s breath was coming soft, but fast, and he was leaning in toward Stede. 

A teenager in the seats behind them brayed a laugh at his seat companion’s joke and jerked Stede back to reality, which was for the best really. He briskly finished pulling open the closures and helped Ed to take it off. He handed his coat to Ed and took the leather jacket in return. Then they were in the reverse process, giggling and trying not to knock into each other, as they put them on. 

Stede didn’t really need a jacket at this point, feeling a little overwarm, but there was no way he was going to turn down the opportunity to wear Ed’s clothing, so he pulled it on anyway. He looked over at Ed, who was now in a black T-shirt, the cashmere scarf still against his chest. The coat was a little big in the shoulders, but Ed looked delectable. And Stede? Stede was in trouble.

“How do I look?” Stede asked. 

Ed smiled. “Really fucking good.” He reached out and touched the lapel on Stede’s chest before saying, “Down to snacks and secrets.”

“Oh!” Stede reached for his bag and held up a bag of unsalted roasted almonds.

“What the fuck is that?” 

“Almonds!” 

“Should have known you’d have prissy, unfun snacks.”

“They’re almonds. They’re just nuts. They’re not,” Stede lowered his voice, “prissy.”

“Not tasty either. Got anything good in there?”

Stede flattened his mouth. “It’s not nice to cast aspersions on people’s offerings of food.”

“Oh, aspersions, excuse me.”

Stede felt a flash of irritation, mirroring the one from last year, and perhaps he was right the first time, and Ed was kind of a dick. He plunged his hand into the baggy and plucked out an almond before sticking it in his mouth. It was dry, and a little plain, and…damn it, unfun. Worse, he hadn’t been thinking about his expression while he’d been eating it, and when he looked over at Ed he was smirking.

“Fine! They’re a little unfun! I do actually have something else. I was saving it for later.” He dug out a sealed container that had been carefully settled flat and opened it to reveal marmalade tartlets. 

“Fuck off,” Ed said. “You were holding out on me.” 

“I didn’t know we were going straight for the good stuff.”

“What kind of bond are we going to form if you’re offering me sad almonds?”

“You haven’t offered me anything, I’d like to point out.”

“Hmm, well now that I know what you’re into, I have a very dry granola bar. It’s like cardboard with raisins.”

“Almonds are easy to transport!”

“So are disgusting granola bars.”

“I have tartlets. Show me something good.” 

Ed reached into his bag and pulled out a paper bag of handmade turtle candy, showing them to Stede. 

“Caramel? Your poor teeth.” 

“Your poor taste buds.  Come on, just have one.” Ed held out a piece of candy, and Stede took it from his hand and bit into it. 

“Mmm, no, good grief. That’s delicious.”

“Excellent. My turn?” 

Stede offered Ed a tartlet, who bit into it and moaned around it. “Mm, no, fair trade. It’s so good.”

Stede grinned. “I made them!” 

“Marry me,” Ed said, continuing to eat the tartlet. 

“Hmm, that’s probably a little strong for weekend-chaperone bonding, but get back to me,” Stede said with a laugh, finishing the candy. “I think that just leaves secrets then, if you want.”

“Hmm, I mean, if we’re bonding, let’s go with the good stuff.” Ed looked around the bus, then said, voice basically a breath, “I’m Blackbeard.”

“What, like the pirate? I don’t know if I believe in reincarnation.” Stede shrugged. “But it’s cool if you do.” He watched Ed’s eyes go wide and couldn’t help but feel like he was missing context. 

“No, not like the pirate. You really don’t—” Ed studied Stede’s face, and then started laughing. “Shit, that’s refreshing. Don’t look it up.”

“So…you’re someone.”

“Something like that.”

“So big secret then,” Stede said, and started mentally going through his list of secrets worth sharing. There was only one, really. One that mattered. “I’ve been out for less than a year—that’s not the secret—and, uh, it was our argument that finally made me, you know.”

“Are you telling me you were into that?”

“You, I think,” Stede said, digging up every single scrap of bravery he could find. 

“Oh,” said Ed.

###

Ed felt a bit like he’d waded into the ocean and underestimated the size of the swells. Just a couple of little ones, gentle shoves back toward the shore, and then, unanticipated, one that swept over his head, a mini drowning in seawater.  

He didn’t choke, but it was a near thing. It wasn’t like he hadn’t thought of Stede Bonnet in the last year, but he hadn’t thought that he would…that they…Fuck. It was like the conversation was running on a time-lapse. Had he just proposed?

He had definitely confessed his secret identity, which apparently didn’t have any particular meaning to the man next to him. Had Stede been living under a rock? Had Ed overestimated how famous he’d been? Maybe it was a “certain circles” kind of thing? Jim definitely knew. There was no way that they didn’t. 

He looked across the aisle at them, and they raised their eyebrows and made a gesture at the coat Ed had just swapped. He lifted a single brow back as if to say, “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing either, thanks.” They looked bemused and then turned their attention back to their conversation with Oluwande. 

And he still needed to say something that wasn’t “thank you” to Stede saying…wait, was that “you were my gay awakening” or “I’m currently into you”? Fuck, he’d need to get that sorted. He made himself look back at Stede. He could either crack a joke about that happening a lot, or what? See where this goes, he guessed. Wasn’t really a choice, was it? 

“That’s some pretty good bonding. You want to get drinks tonight? After we get rid of the kids?” 

Stede beamed. “I’d like that very much.” He shifted in his seat, resettling Kraken in his lap, and lowered his voice. “Is that allowed? I haven’t actually read the guidelines yet.”

“Won’t matter as long as we don’t get soused. We just need to be up bright and early in the morning to herd them to their classes or whatever.” 

“That won’t be a problem!”

Stede appeared to be completely unbothered, and Ed had to wonder who this man was, because he wasn’t the uptight, upset, bitchy person he’d met last year. He looked…comfortable in his own skin in a way that he hadn’t before, but Ed couldn’t figure out how to ask, so he chose something less personal.

“So what did you bring to knit on the trip?”

“I’d planned on driving, so I don’t have anything good for transit knitting. I’ve been working on a design for a cabled sweater, but it’s a bit in process at the moment, so neither here nor there. I wish I had a sock.”

“You can borrow one of mine,” Ed joked, shifting his leg like he might put his foot up and peel his sock off. 

“That may be a little intimate, even for people as well bonded as we are,” Stede said, clearly willing to continue the bit. “Perhaps we should swap shirts—”

“Get in each other’s pants.”

“I am trying!” Stede said and gave into laughter, and Ed did too, reaching over to pat his arm. Stede continued, more seriously, “Do you knit socks, Ed?”

“Yeah, might do, from time to time. Don’t really need wool ones, as hot as it gets around here.”

“That’s true. Have you ever tried cotton?”

“I have, but it’s hard to find a good one. Cotton just doesn’t take dye like wool.”

“Isn’t that the truth,” Stede said, nodding solemnly. “And! Wool, of course, is naturally wicking.”

“M’feet get hot,” Ed confessed.

“Well, that really won’t do. You wear those big boots.”

“They go with the pants.”

“No, I see that. Hmm. Have you considered branching out?”

“Kind of my whole look,” Ed said, gesturing at himself, and then really saw the teal of his borrowed coat. “Awww, you got me there.” 

Stede reached out and touched the scarf against Ed’s chest. “Sometimes, if you’re not happy, it’s okay to change things that make you feel that way. It's sort of beautiful the way life doesn’t stay still. There’s always chances to grow.” He dropped his hand back to his lap. “If that’s the kind of thing you like doing, of course.”

“Not averse to change. Done it before.” Ed considered, held in Stede’s pretty hazel gaze. “Or I thought it was change. May have been something else.”

“Like what?” Stede asked softly.

Ed grimaced. “Hiding. New version of stagnating.” 

“There’s still time, and who knows? Maybe you’re…like a seed. You think you’re buried in the mud, but you’re just waiting to sprout.”

“Sprouting sounds wild.”

“Oh, it can be! I’m in a bit of a sprout myself right now, but I—” Stede paused and considered. “I do tend to blather on, and it’s a long story. So maybe not that right now.” 

Ed watched Stede tuck away some of the brightness that had just been lighting his face, carefully squeezing himself into someone smaller, into someone with a little less radiance. He remembered again Stede of last year, the way he had been all bristly like a cranky hedgehog and then had deflated around himself. 

Stede was apparently right that he was in the process of sprouting—it was something ongoing. At some point, Stede had learned the necessity of dimming his light. He looked up at Ed, something still hopeful, longing, on his face. All Ed wanted was to see Stede so comfortably himself again. 

“I don’t mind long stories,” he offered. “We still have plenty of time.”

“Maybe later,” Stede said. “It’s really not a story for anyone else’s ears.”

Ed looked around, suddenly reminded that they really were on a bus full of teenagers that they were responsible for. Why hadn’t he gone and tracked this man down any time in the last year? He knew though, knew that he maybe wasn’t in such a good place to be starting new things. Maybe he was a seed, but he’d been pressed down in the mud for a long fucking time, and he didn’t remember what sunlight felt like. 

“What’s your favorite movie?” he asked, definitively changing the subject.

The next three hours passed in what felt like an instant. Stede was so easy to talk to, and there was just so much…playfulness in it. He was flirting, but not in an insistent way, just a low-level constant of “I like you.” It was like someone had tucked a warm blanket around Ed, and he was basking in the comfort of it—in the knowledge that someone enjoyed his company so much. 

The teenagers, for reasons unknown, were actually not being little fucking beasts for once, and Jim had only had to get up once to stare someone out of a poor choice, which meant Ed had been free to bury himself in his little bubble of joy with Stede Bonnet. He was very much trying not to resent losing it now, as they exited the bus and herded the teens toward lunch, taking care to make sure that everyone was in the restaurant and had their per diem. 

Stede was on the other side of their little group of knitting kids, trailing behind the much larger group of robotics teens. Ed was admiring the way Stede was still sporting his leather jacket. He was maybe stepping in toward him when he overheard Alma.

He watched as she tweaked the sleeve of the leather jacket, and then said, “Oh my god, Dad, could you just, like, be chill for once?” 

“Don’t know what you could possibly mean,” Stede said, and then he caught Ed’s eye, absolutely beaming at him. “This is just normal chaperone bonding. It’s important!’ 

“Uggggh,” Alma said, very expressively, and Ed wondered if the fact that he was absolutely going to do his best to dick down her dad was going to damage their mentor-mentee relationship. He’d been teaching Alma to knit for a year, surely she would forgive him. And how was he supposed to resist that incandescent grin? Ed was a goner.

He smiled at Stede before switching his attention back to the matter at hand—herding these kids through the fast food line before they went and did an extensive hotel check-in. It all went smoothly. Stede was fun to work with, fast on his feet, organized, and really funny in a way that had the sweetest edge of bitchiness.

Once they had the teens assigned to their rooms and baggage settled, they walked with them to the convention center where Fleece & Fiber was being held. Tomorrow they would be going to a couple of classes, but today had been set aside for travel, so it was more a quick stop to get oriented before they had dinner and settled in for the night. 

Post-dinner, they ran down the rules with their charges before giving them lists of their supplies for tomorrow and telling them when they needed to be ready to roll out for breakfast. Then they told them to have a good evening and properly abandoned them to their own devices.

Stede looked at Ed and grinned. “You’re sure we’re good to go on this?”

“Yep, we’re just going down to the hotel bar.” Ed reached out and rested a hand on Stede’s arm. “We can even bring the drinks back up to the room if you’d like.” 

“I would like that,” Stede said, meeting Ed’s gaze with so much warmth in his eyes.

“Yeah.” Ed felt like his blood was fizzing, like he might do or say anything to be with this man. 

Stede continued after a moment, “We’ll just be down there for a little bit, right? And Alma can message me if anyone needs anything from us.” 

“Good. Let’s go.” Ed could feel the way the bubbly energy was overtaking him. They’d already spent hours together today, and he was deeply looking forward to some time with zero teenagers looking on. He shifted his hand from Stede’s arm.

Stede leaned in to bring his arm around Ed’s back and rest his palm there. Ed could feel the heat of it radiating through Stede’s coat. “Let’s go,” Stede said in agreement. They made their way down the hall toward the elevators while keeping quiet, almost if they were sneaking away in truth. 

The nicest thing that could be said about the hotel bar was that it existed. It was very brightly lit from being attached to the lobby and featured a single line of tables next to the barstools. It was not in the least romantic, but Ed had worked with worse.

And who was he kidding? He felt like a bundle of nerves being pulled in two directions. He’d proposed this earlier, hoping for a hookup, and now he was thinking about romance because Stede was maybe the most fascinating person he’d ever met. Yeah, he wanted to do whatever they were about to do, but he thought that was only the tip of the iceberg of things he would like to do. Why the fuck did his list include “cuddle in bed on a Sunday morning” and “go on an ice cream date” and not just “bite that hot man’s biceps” and “get his dick sucked”?

Whatever, Ed could do both. He and Stede ordered drinks and waited for them at the bar before sitting down at one of the sad two-tops. He watched Stede sip his drink, heart in his throat, and still trying to figure out how he could be so wholly out of step. He knew how to be cool, how to charm the pants off a man, literally. 

He took a sip of his own drink and said, “I want my jacket back.”

“Of course!” Stede agreed. 

Ed grinned. “More of a first step, really. I was hoping to take it off of you.”

“Oh! But then, let's do have these drinks in the room.” He stood up, and held out his hand to Ed, pulling him to his feet before scooping up his drink. “Find out what we can get up to. I hear all kinds of exchanges can be beneficial for chaperone-bonding experiences.” 

Stede continued to hold Ed’s hand, leading him to the elevators, back to their shared room. He let go of Ed and swiped them into their room, tugging Ed’s drink from his hand. He made his way between the two queen beds to set their drinks on a nightstand. Then he was back to Ed, stripping the coat off of him and dropping it on the bed. He moved his hand to Ed’s side, leaned in, and took Ed’s lips. Ed had been longing for it, and was still surprised by the shock of sensation when it finally happened. And he wanted it, so he slid a hand around the back of Stede’s neck and lost himself in the kiss.

Chapter Text

Two Years Ago - May

Ed’s office at the community center was basically a closet—narrow, windowless, packed, and claustrophobic. Someone in the distant past had wedged a desk in there, with an office chair behind it, and two hard plastic chairs in front of it. If a visitor left one out of place after meeting with him, he would inevitably catch himself on it trying to go back out again based on the limited space. If it was ever swept and dusted, he’d done it himself. The cleaning staff refused to edge around to his half of the room, worried about setting off a cascade of items from the shelving behind the desk. Just being in the space made him feel like he was buried alive, but he’d been at this job for five months, and he was not going to start the non-profit segment of his career complaining that they’d stuffed him in a coffin. 

He flicked the switch, and a single strip of fluorescent tubes buzzed to life. Ed could only imagine that they made him look like a corpse in truth. Behind him, the man was still talking. He hadn’t met Stede Bonnet before, but he’d heard of him. His coworker, Izzy, couldn’t stand him. The guy had two kids, Louis and Alma. Louis was fourteen or fifteen and interested in robotics, which meant that he and Ed hadn’t crossed paths much. Louis seemed like a nice enough kid, if a little intense, but as Ed was learning, it was apparently a family trait. 

No, it was Alma who had landed Ed here. She’d joined the center at the same time as her brother, but it had taken her longer to find her place. She’d tried several of the programs before finally joining Ed in fiber arts. She had a real talent for it and a stubborn streak that kept her at it, which was an excellent trait in a knitter. Knitting was something beginners tended to be bad at for a year or two, so persistence counted.

What Ed couldn’t have known was that the last month and a half of lessons had been a secret. At least to one Stede Bonnet. Ed gestured to one of the plastic chairs, before beginning the precarious process of moving behind his desk. He scraped his legs along the edge, finally popping out on his side, and moving to sit in the worn desk chair. It made a sad little bird chirp as he lowered his weight onto it. Stede’s face distorted for a moment—smothering a laugh—before he also sat down.

“So you see, it’s not appropriate at all!” Stede finished. 

“Hmm,” Ed replied.

He really should have been listening to whatever the man had been saying, but his brain was prone to ramble at the best of times, and he wondered if Stede knew what he looked like. Presumably he owned a mirror, but there was no way he could mean to go around like that and expect people to listen to him. It was beyond possibility. Somehow, his ridiculously elaborate fluffy blonde curls were gleaming under the shitty fluorescents. Stede should, by rights, look even more dead in this lighting than Ed did, but it was almost like he carried an inner glow with him. 

It wasn’t the hair that was killing Ed, though, or the man’s mobile, expressive face, which was currently pulled into a rather smug grin, presumably delighted he’d made his fucking point. No, the problem was the outfit, or the body under the outfit, or the fact that the outfit was stretched over the body. Tits, Ed’s brain supplied, and yep, that was not helping anything.

It was a fucking polo shirt. How could anyone make a polo shirt look like that? Fuck. At least the jerk was sitting down, which meant Ed could no longer see his legs or the tiny pair of shorts he was wearing. Maybe they were a regular length, and they just shrunk in Ed’s brain as he took in the legs. He was horny-derailed, and he hadn’t said anything in reply.

“Don’t think I caught all of that. Can you start from the beginning, mate?” 

Oof. Stede didn’t like that. His face shifted to annoyance. “What? How far back?”

“Uh, who are you again?” Ed asked, maybe, maybe needling him on purpose. Just to see what happened.

Stede huffed an annoyed breath, his face sharpening, and it looked like he was going to spit out something very adorably vexed, when he took in a huge breath, and started the fuck over. It really wasn’t funny, which is why Ed didn’t laugh. Nope, he fucking mashed that into a grin.

“Stede Bonnet. I have two children in programming here. Alma and Louis. Alma’s been taking knitting lessons from you.”

“Ah, yeah, good kid.”

“I didn’t give you permission to teach her knitting!” Stede said, with a definite snap in his tone.

“Kinda the point of the community center, mate. Give the kids an opportunity to try new things and see if they like them.”

“But you’re doing it wrong!” 

All of a sudden Ed wasn’t having fun. Wrong was a foul word. A word meant to put people in their place. To offer a strict version of a creative skill. Ed had thoughts about fucking wrong.

“What the fuck did you just say?” His tone had dropped to a low, dangerous rumble, and he could feel the undercurrent of his own anger tugging at him now.

Stede must have understood it, because he course corrected immediately. “I misspoke. I meant different. You’re teaching her differently than I would have.”

“You knit?” Ed asked, genuinely surprised. Maybe he shouldn't have been. Women vastly outnumbered men in the fiber arts. Most of the men who proudly took their spots in the community were gay. Which, as he scanned Stede’s body again, he really hoped was the case here.

“Do I knit?” Stede looked startled, and then added, “You don’t know me?”

“Should I know you?”

“The Gentleman Knitter?” Stede clarified, his eyebrows lifted.

Ed had heard of him, but his brain hadn't really connected the moniker with the name Stede Bonnet. He’d first popped up in the knitting world several years ago, designing patterns with bright colors, gorgeous yarn, and fucking panache.

“Oh, I’ve heard of you. I’ve heard all about you.”

“Oh! Well, then.” Stede's face lit up for a moment, and then he dimmed again. “But you see the problem?”

Ed paused. “No, not at all.”

“It’s…it’s my thing, and I didn’t teach her. She wouldn’t learn from me.” 

Ed felt his eyes go wide, because he was suddenly realizing that the very hot man in front of him was in his office to chew him out for something that he should be taking up with his therapist. Which was now something Ed would have to take up with his therapist.

Uhhhh, empathy?  “That must feel pretty bad.”

“It does! It’s what I’m good at, and you’re…you’re stealing it.”

“Stealing is, uh, a little strong, mate.”

“Is it?” Stede asked, again looking peevish.

“Uh, yeah. Here’s the thing. You sign your kids up for the community center, yeah? And then they run around and figure out what they like? That’s what they did, and that’s what they’re supposed to do. And we’re here to give them that opportunity, so we’re also doing what we’re supposed to be doing. The only one here not doing what they’re supposed to be doing, is you.”

Stede now looked very cross, and maybe Ed should have been a tad softer on that, but he hadn’t used a single “fuck,” so really, all the points to him. Stede leaned forward.

“I am adequate!”

“Bro, no one said you weren’t ade—”

“I’m a good father, and I think that—”

“No one is talking about what kind of dad you are!”

“You are!”

“No, I said that you should give your kids some fucking space!” Dammit, points deducted. Twice. Once for the “fucking” and once for the fact, that yeah, now he was judging what kind of father Stede was.

“How about you not tell me what to do with my own children?”

Ed blew out a frustrated breath, knowing he was a little in the wrong now, and trying to de-escalate this dickfuck of a situation. “I apologize for implying that you were being overbearing when you came to argue with a community center employee about why your daughter doesn’t want to learn knitting from you.” Ed gave a tiny shrug. “Feels like in hindsight the reason’s obvious.”

Shit. Well, not fighting had never been one of his strong suits.

Stede stood up. “I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean!”

Oh fuck. Ed had been right the first time. The shorts were tiny. Legs. So much leg. Blonde hair. Toned. Biteable. Fuck. Stede was going to win this argument but probably not for the reason he thought. Ed stood up too, in self-defense, really.

Ed set his face and said, one careful word at a time, “Think you may have a problem with your patience.”

“I do not! I am the picture of calm control!” Stede shouted. He seemed to surprise himself with the volume, and he snapped his mouth shut.

Ed stared at Stede. Stede stared back. His face wavered for just a moment, like he was about to have another outburst of emotion, though Ed couldn’t guess if it was likely to be laughter or tears.

Stede sucked in a big breath and looked at Ed. “I’ve got a lot going on right now. I’m a mess really, and uh, I’m sorry. That I yelled, and blamed you for…well, as you said, for doing your job. If you’re willing to continue this meeting, now that I’ve gotten that out of my system, I’d appreciate it.”

Stede reseated himself, and Ed followed. Stede was deflating before Ed’s eyes, sinking into himself, and Ed hated that a little, actually. Stede being just a touch irritated had really been doing it for him. And now he’d have to add that to the therapy list too. Wouldn’t that be a fucking juicy session? So Ed needled him again, just a tiny bit, just to pull that slump out of his shoulders.

“Oh, want to talk about it like a grown-up now? Guess I could do that.”

Stede’s head came up. “You could at least be gracious about it.”

Ed suppressed a smile. “Do whatever the fuck I want. Now what’s this ‘difference’ that has your yarn in a tangle?”

Stede snorted a laugh. “Have to tuck that one away for later. You’re teaching her English!”

“Mm-hmm. It was the default of the previous instructor, and I didn’t want to throw off a bunch of kids that were already in the process of learning it.”

“It’s inferior!” Snippy tone restored.

Ed sighed. “It’s fine. You want her to learn Continental?”

“Portuguese!” Stede clarified.

“The fuck is Portuguese?”

“You’re the teacher! Look it up!”

Ed knew how he should be taking this latest bitchy outburst, but fuck, he couldn’t help himself. He would absolutely listen to that voice all day long, preferably while he was being railed by its owner over his desk.

“Yep. Will do. Anything else?”

“It’s hard to learn on splitty acrylic yarn.”

“Not much I can do about that. Have you seen our annual budget?”

“Can’t say that I have. Damn. I’ll check with my wife.”

Which was a non-sequitur if Ed had ever heard one. Also fucking wife. In those shorts? There was no justice in this world. His heart was crushed in his chest. Hope kindled and snuffed out in a single meeting.

“Sure, mate. Anything else I can do for you?”

“No. That’s fine. Thank you. For listening…and not throwing me out.”

“No problem. The stress of getting yelled at by angry parents is absolutely covered by my miniscule salary.” 

“Fuck.” Stede put his hand over his face. “Sorry. I’m going now. Really. Uh. Thanks for helping Alma. Goodbye.”

“See you around!” Ed said cheerfully, maybe hoping a little that he would.

###

Stede stood, feeling the lines the hard plastic chair had pressed into the back of his legs. He stepped free of it and then carefully lifted and placed it back into its original position. They’d clearly repurposed a supply closet, and the airless space seemed hard enough to navigate without leaving things out of place. He offered Ed one more little wave and walked out into the hallway, hoping he would clear it before Ed returned to the space he taught in. He took a quick look, finding the knitting group sitting with the aide, Alma seated and doggedly working her way across a garter-stitch scarf in a bright red acrylic.

He felt a wave of shame that he’d pulled Ed out of his work to…What? Yell at him for doing his job, as Ed had so succinctly put it. He wanted to pull apart that line of choices, to track back to what had led him to this farce, but getting away was more important. The kids were supposed to be at the center for the next three hours, and it gave him plenty of time to flail over his behavior. In private. He walked back to the entrance, nodded at the person at reception, and walked out to his car.

It was parked in a corner, and perhaps he could give in and have a good cry here, but it would only take a few minutes to get to his new apartment. Then he could cry while only putting off the neighbors, who he was pretty sure already hated him. He hadn’t lived in an apartment in a very long time, and it turned out he’d forgotten most of the rules of sharing thin walls with other people.

He got into the car and began his drive to his new place of residence while very deliberately not thinking about anything that had happened today. He arrived at the parking lot and pulled into his dedicated space. He’d made it back without cracking, and he was proud of himself, but he didn’t think he had much endurance left.

He hustled to his apartment, opened the door, and locked it behind him. The living room was exactly as he’d left it—an undecorated mess, crowded with sealed boxes, and no furniture. It was fine. He burst into tears.

Sometimes a good messy cry was nice really. Cathartic. It wasn’t because he felt hopeless. He sank down onto the floor and leaned against the nearest cardboard pile. His wife was divorcing him, and he was okay. There was probably even some alternate timeline in which Stede was overjoyed by this turn of events, and another one in which he’d even been the one doing the leaving. Because the truth was she was doing them a favor. They were miserable together. Only Stede, unhappy and drowning, hadn't even looked for a lifesaver, perfectly willing to tread water until he went under from exhaustion.

So he’d been blindsided when Mary had announced that she was done, actually, and she would like Stede to move out of their home, and also she was moving Evelyn in. Evelyn was recently widowed, and Stede had been momentarily confused, telling Mary that Evelyn was welcome to live in their guest room. The conversation from there had been short and merciless.

Stede was unwanted, useless, superfluous. Mary had added in a final, exasperated parting shot: he was so bad at the daily tasks of being a parent, that it would be easier for her to manage without him. Or what she said was, “Stede, I know that you love them, and that’s great, but that’s only the start. Kids eat and wear clothes and go to activities and school and have social lives. Do you know how much of that you’ve managed?”

Stede knew the answer was none. He couldn’t cook. He didn’t even know how to turn on the clothes washer. He’d…he’d earned money, like his father before him. The revelation had been intensely painful because he’d looked at how his father had done it and known he could do better. He would love his children as they were. He would be present. He just had been oblivious to the fact that being present also meant care. Also meant work. Now he was being discarded, and he deserved it.

Also, he hadn't known that Mary was bisexual. Surely it should have come up in some twenty years of marriage, but it hadn’t. So that had been a surprise too. Some especially masochistic part of him wanted to know precisely how long Mary had been stepping outside of their marriage with her good friend, and part of him didn’t want to know at all. Stede knew, of course, that he and Mary didn’t enjoy sex together, but it had never occurred to him that he could find another woman to have sex with. The thought had never appealed to him any more than having sex with Mary had.

Now he was alone, and on top of figuring out how to put his life back together, how to be a non-terrible father, he also had to figure out who he did feel like dating. Or if he truly was ready to spend the rest of his life alone. Maybe he deserved to be alone.

He was starting therapy next week, having at least pieced together that this was one crisis too many for someone to manage on their own. The tears were tapering off, and he tried to steady his breathing. For now, he would just do the thing he’d picked up from the internet, the gratitude journal. Assuming he could remember where he’d left the blasted thing. He took a long scan of the room and spotted its bright sparkly cover on the kitchen counter. Maybe aqua glitter was a bit much, but he’d spent so much of his life trying to squeeze into what now felt like the wrong shape. This was the thing that was supposed to help him find joy, so he was going to try to not feel too guilty about it.

He opened it to a fresh page and looked at the blank lines. He was not grateful for his impending divorce, his job at his father’s company, the ugly apartment, his loneliness, or either of his outbursts today, anger and tears. Pretty good list of negatives, and not the exercise he was supposed to be doing. He was grateful for…

Life, in spite of everything. He was grateful he woke up this morning. He was grateful for his kids, even if he was a bad father. He was grateful for knitting, even if it had him making an ass of himself today. Stede sighed. As if the knitting had been necessary for him to act like a jerk. He was grateful for today’s outfit. He’s chosen it for the heat of a May afternoon with the vague idea that he might play tennis later rather than having a sob in his apartment. Bit of a power move, he knew, dressing as well as he did, everything beautifully tailored. But appearance mattered. He was happy he looked fucking sharp. He was happy he was looking his best when he met Edward Teach.

That was neither here nor there, but he liked to make a good first impression, even when absolutely stepping in it. Ed was…Ed was striking. Stede had only taken up transporting the children to the community center the last month or so, and he didn’t think he could recall having seen the man before. Surely he would have remembered seeing someone that looked so…so… He couldn’t define it. He closed his eyes and stepped back.

He’d walked into the community center with Alma and Louis. They were old enough to go in on their own—Louis was fourteen. Alma, whose seventeenth birthday had been the week before, was old enough to drive on her own, assuming she hadn’t refused to learn. They had both protested that he was more than welcome to stay in the car. Stede had informed them he was on a mission.

It was silly, truly, but with everything else spinning entirely out of his control, he’d felt like this was the one thing he could manage. He wouldn’t have his daughter learning to inefficiently throw her crappy plastic yarn! Stede was a bit of a yarn snob, but for a reason!

They checked in, and Louis sped off in the direction of the robotics lab while Alma walked to the knitting group at a slower pace.

“What’s your teacher’s name again?” Stede asked.

Alma looked at him from the side of her eyes and said, “Ed.”

“Ed? As in a man?”

Alma sighed, “Yes, dad, a man. Did you know men can knit too?”

“Alma Marie, don’t take that tone with me. It’s just…I’m used to being the only one in the room, or knitting group, or yarn store. I’m tired of being shown to the husband chair. It’s nice, actually, to know there’s another one.”

Sort of. Minus the teaching his precious offspring the wrong style.

“Great. You’re both old, maybe you can talk about whatever else old men like to say over their knitting needles.”

“I’m not that old. In my prime, really.” Stede said, only partially meaning it. It was hard to feel like you were in your prime when you were being dumped by your wife who you didn’t even enjoy being married to.

“Mm-hmm. He’s cool. Don’t embarrass me.”

They reached the table, and Stede saw him. Stede had heard cool, but he hadn’t pictured, well, leather. Leather. Pants. Nice ones. Well cared for, and flattering. He maybe wished a bit that he thought he could pull those off. Or the black boots they were paired with. The T-shirt was well-fitted, also black. It was not a color Stede could wear without looking washed out, which was not a problem Ed would be having with his lovely tawny skin. Also there were tattoos. So many tattoos…and beard. A big curly beard, black and silver like his long curling hair. He was…

His eyes crinkled up with a huge smile when he saw Alma. “Hey, welcome, Alma, and…”

“My dad, Stede Bonnet,” Alma said by way of introduction.

“Edward Teach. Ed.”

The man held out his hand and Stede took it, shaking it for slightly too long while still maybe staring a bit. It was just that he so rarely saw people that looked so, well, interesting. “Can I help you?” he asked in this lovely rumbly voice, that Stede immediately found he liked.

“Could we, uh, talk in private?” Stede stumbled out.

Ed made eye contact with another community center person. “Can you help out for a few, Maggie?” he asked.

She came over and sat down at the table. “Sure. Not a problem.”

“Let me show you to my luxurious office,” Ed said with a smirk, his eyes lingering on Stede in a way that made him feel…something.

Stede tried to shove that away by launching into the problem as they walked down the hallway, deciding to dive right in order to just get it over with. It had felt so important while he was fuming about it at home, but as he continued to explain it to Ed, he could see that he was maybe making the teensiest mountain out of a molehill. Still, having started it, he might as well commit and finish saying the silly thing.

“Don’t think I caught all of that. Can you start from the beginning, mate?” Ed said, and he hadn’t been listening at all, and then Stede, who had been dismissed one too many times this week, had lost his temper, like the complete fool he was.

It was mortifying. Also, now that he was leaning against his kitchen counter deconstructing those minutes spent with Ed, his brain decided to deliver an absolutely devastating conclusion. The word he was struggling to come up with was “hot.” Ed Teach was hot, and Stede was, it now occurred to him, probably a little gay.

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.”

Chapter Text

One Year Ago - April

Stede sat in the bar, chatting softly with Ed, and it was fun and weirdly peaceful, and he still wasn’t sure what they were doing. They finished a second round of drinks before returning to their room. Ed disappeared into the bathroom, and Stede cast his gaze over at the second unused bed.

He hadn’t precisely meant to sleep with Ed, so much as he’d fallen asleep on Thursday, worn out from all the activity, and had continued to fail to move into the other bed the next night. He hadn't done a lot of sleeping over in his slut era, preferring to slink home, and he didn’t know if he was breaking some kind of unspoken rule. He pulled his phone out of his pocket. 

Stede: Is it okay to sleep with a hookup?

Lucius: kind of the point

Stede: I mean staying in their bed for multiple nights?

Lucius: wtf who are you and where’s my boss

Lucius shit, give me a sec was busy

Lucius: wtf are you doing

Stede: Like a sex thing with Alma’s knitting instructor?

Lucius: Ed? You mean? Like gay wake up Ed? Stede, the call is coming from inside the house

Stede: Yes. Crap. I didn’t tell you. I’m chaperoning the children’s event. Their guy didn’t show up, so I said I would do it, and we’re sharing a room, and I’ve been in his bed, but I don’t know if that’s allowed.

Lucius: please imagine how hard I am banging my head against the nearest table. damage is done, just oh my god don’t be too weird about it and we’ll hash it out when you get home. I need to get back to my thing

Stede stared at his phone trying to decide what “too weird” meant in this context. 

“Everything okay?” Ed asked, coming back out of the bathroom. 

“Mm-hmm,” Stede agreed, putting his phone away.

Stede woke up in the morning, still in Ed’s bed—the bed they’d been sharing. He'd meant to listen to Lucius, he had, but the thing was he liked being in bed with Ed. It felt like it would be more awkward to move after they’d just finished making each other come, so he’d cuddled with Ed. It was nice. It felt good, and he was tired of denying himself things that he wanted. 

Ed was sleeping solidly, curled in on himself, so Stede decided to go down to the hotel lobby and grab coffee for them before they had to get back on the bus home. He returned with the cups and set Ed’s on the nightstand next to him, watching him stir and feeling the urge to lean down and kiss him. He didn’t, instead saying, “I brought you coffee.” He’d prepared it the same way as Ed had yesterday morning, adding the excessive sugar.

Ed made a little, muffled moan and reached for it, wiggling free of the covers. He was still entirely naked, and Stede let himself look for a moment while Ed pulled off the lid and peered into the cup. He sniffed it and then took a sip.

“Mm. Oh, that's perfect. You got it just right.” Ed took a longer drink, his eyes closing in pleasure. “I fuckin’ love you.”

Stede froze, but Ed hadn’t seemed to have heard himself, still happily drinking down his coffee. Stede was still thinking about Lucius’s advice. Not too weird. So what? He’d just drink his own coffee, and get his bags wrangled back together. All he had to do was not entirely wreck this before Lucius could untangle whatever mess he’d already made.

Breakfast was boxed pastries, distributed on the bus with the plan of getting everyone home by lunchtime so that they could get ready for their school week. They were soon back on the road, Stede once again settled next to Ed. He was working on a sock, having picked up needles and sock yarn while they were at Fleece & Fiber. He was already knitting down the leg, a simple rib pattern that he didn’t even have to think about. He looked over, and Ed was watching his hands. 

“You really are fast.” 

“Practice,” Stede said simply. 

“Portuguese practice.”

Stede had to laugh, leaning into Ed. “I still regret saying that.” 

“I don’t mind,” Ed said, patting his forearm with a hand and letting it rest there for a moment. Stede felt the buzz of a text alert, knit to the end of his needle, and dropped his knitting into his lap before checking his phone. 

Alma: Could you make an effort to be less obvious you look like this 😍[heart-eyes emoji]

Stede looked over his shoulder to realize that Alma had settled in the row behind Jim and Oluwande. She raised both her eyebrows in a razor sharp “Seriously, Dad?” expression, and he responded with the smallest of shrugs, again hearing Lucius's advice. He hadn’t really liked anyone this much before, and it was only now occurring to him that Ed—cool, beautiful, funny Ed—was probably being overly nice to his clingy baby-gay self. He pocketed his phone and promised himself that he could be normal about this. 

Only he wasn’t having a normal time of it. Ed was still being really kind to him, and he had to think, hope, that it wasn’t entirely pity. They’d been in it together, right? Ed had wanted it too. It wasn’t just convenience. Stede was only getting more agitated as he thought about it, fingers flying, and he looked down and realized that he’d shot right past his intended leg length for the sock.

He sighed, trying to decide if it was worth frogging the extra on the bus or if he should just stuff it in his bag. He gathered it up and slipped it into the project bag, determined to just check in with Ed. He looked over at him, and he was asleep, having knocked out with his head rolled to the right. Ed was beautiful at rest, and Stede watched him for a few minutes before remembering that might also fall under “too weird.” He got the sock back out and began to carefully unpick the spare rounds. 

They arrived back at the community center a little before the projected time, their driver seeming to have a preternatural sense of traffic flow and lane blockages. Stede thanked Buttons for the safe drive as they exited the bus. Then it was a return to the chaos of distributing the kids back to their waiting parents, luggage and children going in what felt like every direction. Ed was very occupied, offering only an “I’ll text you” that sounded like dismissal. He was busy, and Stede was really trying not to be a bother, so he nodded and left Ed behind, moving to collect his own bags and children.

In truth, he didn’t expect to hear from Ed again, and he found himself reluctant to actually discuss the weekend with Lucius when he finally showed up for work at Stede’s house on Tuesday. Lucius had shepherded Stede through some of the more mortifying parts of being newly out at Stede’s age, but Stede found that he cared too much about this particular experience to talk about it freely. He left it at the details he’d already shared, while Lucius shot him several more knowing looks than he had patience for. 

So Stede was pleasantly surprised when Ed asked if he wanted to meet at a hotel bar on Friday evening. It could potentially be a date, but Stede wasn’t lying to himself. He’d still go, even if it was only a hookup.

Either way, he wondered if he should check in with Alma. She hadn’t said anything else about Ed, but Stede was feeling a sudden stab of guilt. The last year had been filled with so much upheaval and few constants. Dizzy had been one of them. Knitting, and by extension Ed, had been another. What if he fucked this up and soured one of the few solid things in his daughter’s life. He decided to just message her. 

Stede: I’m going out with Ed tonight.

Stede: Is that okay?

Alma: Uggggghhh, dad

Alma: There are 4 billion men in the world sure go ahed and fuck my teacher

Alma's sense of humor was…well, she was likely joking, but there was also a chance she was truly annoyed. He needed to call her. He checked the time and realized that she would be headed to her after-school meeting, and it would have to wait.

Stede: Call me when you have a chance. Please.

She didn’t call before he needed to get ready. Ed had suggested 5:30, the bare minimum post-work drinks time, which again made Stede wonder if this was a casual, no-strings kind of thing. He dressed carefully, choosing something dressed down but flattering, but still appropriate if it was a date, all while deliberately mashing down the churning anxiety from the uncertainty of it. 

He arrived at the hotel and made his way inside to find a classic bar, dark wood, leather, and warm lighting. He was punctual, and yet Ed was already waiting for him, faced away, silvering hair gathered half up, and in Stede’s purple shirt. Stede felt the smallest rush of hope because that had to mean something. He walked up and joined him.

Ed turned and smiled. “Thought I might take you to a nicer bar, just to switch things up.”

“Generous of you. It has atmosphere.”

“Like a little atmosphere,” Ed said with a grin. 

Stede sat down next to Ed, again wondering what they were doing, what this was, and trying to figure out how to ask. Instead he ordered a drink and sipped it while making some execrable small talk out of sheer nerves. He couldn’t understand what had changed because it had felt so easy before. 

Ed seemed to sense that Stede was tying himself in knots because he peered into his drink and then said, “This isn’t really where I wanted to take you, more of a joke really, but I was hoping you’d maybe join me—” 

Stede’s phone started ringing—the sound on because he hadn’t wanted to miss Alma’s call—but now he was embarrassed about how loud it was in the bar.

“I’m so sorry. I need to take this.” He answered the call, and then said, “Hi, can you give me just a second to get to where I can talk?” He gave Ed a pained look. 

Ed smiled. “The place is in the park, directly across the street. Meet me there when you’re done?” 

Stede nodded, dropping cash for his drink and walking out of the bar into the main hotel before pacing a long hallway lined with the hotel's meeting rooms. Bright April sun was still streaming through the street-facing windows opposite.

“Hi, sorry about that, I was just…I’m already out.” 

“Why’d you ask me to call you then?” Alma asked, sounding annoyed.

He made himself force out the words he’d meant to ask in the first place. “Do you really want me to not date Ed?” 

“Is that what you’re doing? Dating?”

“I don’t know.”

Alma sighed loudly. “It’s just like, of course, you want to date the one person that I’d prefer—” She went silent. “I’m not telling you what you can do.”

“I won’t do anything that makes you feel uncomfortable.” 

“Of course it makes me uncomfortable! And you're being weird about it! It doesn’t matter, okay? I’m graduating in a month, Dad, and leaving, and whatever this is with Ed won’t be my business. So do whatever you want.”

“Alma—” 

“If this is so important to you, I don’t get why you did it as a phone call. Couldn’t say it to my face? I said I don’t care. Do what you’re going to do. I’ve gotta go.”

She hung up and left Stede staring at the time on his phone. That could have gone better, and he had to wonder why he hadn’t tried to talk to Alma while she’d been at the house instead of waiting until it was Mary’s time. How had he thought this conversation was going to go? He blew out a long breath and started back along the hallway toward reception and the exit to the street. 

The call had only been a few minutes, though, so he decided to go to the bar first and check that Ed wasn’t still there. A quick scan of the space confirmed that he’d already stepped out. Stede was turning to leave when he heard his name. He followed the sound to find Lucius seated at a table, hand up in greeting. 

Stede stepped over to him. “Tell me you weren’t planning on spying on my progress.”

“Couldn’t possibly! You didn’t tell me where you were going. This is just, I’m delighted to say, a really classy gay bar, and I am treating Pete!” He gestured at the man sitting next to him, who was bald and improbably had bare arms sticking out of torn-off sleeves.

“Oh, heeey, you must be Stede. Pete Black. Big fan. You saved my bacon on that chaperone thing. Jackie didn’t fire me, but I’m on probation for the next four months. I told her I hit my head, which is how I felt after I saw this cutie.” He grinned, gesturing at Lucius.

“Nice to meet you—”

Pete was still talking. “Last weekend was so good for me, but I hear you had a good one too, what with all the fu—”

“Lucius!” Stede could not believe that he’d given Lucius all of three facts, and he’d still spilled them. 

“I’m so bad at keeping secrets!” Lucius groaned. “It was pillow talk. You know Pete has a real thing for—”

“Blackbeard! That’s what I was about to say, babe. He’s so fucking cool, and you know, you…” Pete ended in a thumbs up and wagged eyebrows. “Like I’ve always wanted to fuck a billionaire playboy tech genius, just to see if the dick is any different. It could’ve been me if I’d remembered to go on that trip.” He finished this statement with a broad smile. 

Stede could feel his eyes going wide, because there were several things to unpack there. “Excuse me,” he said crisply. “I have somewhere to be.” He spun on his heel and started a fast march back out of the bar, hearing Pete loudly protesting.

“I thought everyone knew who Blackbeard was! How was I supposed to know?”

Stede couldn’t have heard correctly. He traced his path back along the hallway, choosing a secluded padded bench placed against the glass wall. He sat down and struggled to remove his phone from his pocket because his hands were shaking so hard.

Pete had to be wrong. Ed had joked about what—a tiny community center salary. And he had told Stede. He had said that he was Blackbeard and had expected that to mean something to Stede.

And Stede…he hadn’t looked, because Ed’s past was Ed’s business. He finally got his phone free, yanking too hard so that it shot through his hand and thudded onto the thick rug. Stede bent over and scooped it up off the floor, doing his best to hold the phone steady as he swiped open the search engine.

It was all there. Everything, and Stede was a fool. He skimmed Ed’s fucking Wikipedia page before giving in and flipping to the images tab. The pictures were old. Ed’s hair and beard were both short and fully black, but it was so clearly Ed. Ed, who, when he flipped through the photos, had made the rounds of dating the rich, famous, and beautiful. Ed, who had for some reason recently condescended to having Stede instead.

And here was Stede trying to imagine this was something it wasn’t. They were meeting at a fucking hotel bar. Maybe Ed had meant it to be funny, but it was also a convenient way to meet if a person didn’t want to share their home address with someone, if what they were doing was temporary. What had he thought this was going to be? More than that, was he going to further damage his already precarious relationship with this daughter for what amounted to casual sex?

The anxiety that had been digging into him all afternoon hit tooth and claw, and he could feel, mixed in with it, waves of shame that he was not really what people wanted, and he wouldn’t be what Ed wanted. Before he could even process what he was doing, he was pushing out the hotel exit and rushing down the street.

###

Ed perched on the bench, kicking his feet. It was maybe a kind of silly date idea for a man looking fifty in the eye, but he hoped that Stede, the kind of person who had enough whimsy to buy into chaperone bonding, would think it was fun. Stede would need to hurry, though, the paddle boat pavilion had its last checkout at six. It was just that Ed was hoping Stede would see the giant swan boat and think it was as funny as he did. It would be okay if he thought it was maybe a little romantic too.

He wasn’t sure that their weekend together was going to become anything else, but he was really hoping that it would. He thought Stede was fascinating, enchanting, and he was having a ridiculous time not leaving his heart all over the place about it. He had maybe proposed and said he loved him in, like, three days, but those were accidents. No one could blame Ed for what he said when presented with a delicious fucking homemade tartlet or when he was mostly asleep and gifted with the perfect cup of coffee. He was not going too fast. He was going to date the fuck out of Stede.

He watched Stede finally push out of the front doors of the hotel, and thank fuck, they were cutting it close. He put his hand up and waved, but Stede didn’t seem to see him, and then he turned and sped off down the sidewalk.

“Hey!” Ed called. “I’m over here.”

Stede kept going. Ed was tempted to run after him, but there was no way he'd manage to get across the street and catch up to Stede with his shit knee. He was already almost out of sight at this point, and Ed could not get over the shock of it. 

Right, phone. He pulled his out and typed: Something come up? He sent it before he realized there was probably no way that Stede was reading his messages. So he called instead, and it rang through to voicemail. So he called again, with the same result. On the third call it didn’t even ring. Straight to voicemail, and that was pretty fucking telling, wasn’t it? Fuck it. The man had been running away. Fleeing, even.

Ed couldn’t even truly feel surprised—after all, people usually did flee after he fucked them. Something about his charming fucking personality, and he’d thought Stede was different. Well, naive of him, and if he wasn’t going on a fucking paddleboat, there was no reason he couldn’t be drinking instead. He shoved to his feet and crossed back to the hotel, crushing out the urge to send something scathing to Stede. He sauntered through the bar ready to down another drink or two and go the fuck home. Maybe with someone else that wanted to fuck once or twice. It didn’t matter. 

He was surprised when he came through the door to see Pete from the community center. He’d been mostly avoiding him because…

“Hey, Blackbead!”

Yeah, that. “It’s Ed.” He moved closer to the table. “Trying to keep a low profile, mate, prefer if you didn’t use the other one.”

“Yeah, I get that, it’s pretty cool to go incognito,” Pete said, with a face that Ed guessed was supposed to be understanding. “I can be really cool about this.”

“Where’s Stede?” asked the man sitting next to him with a sharp expression. He continued, “Lucius Spriggs, assistant extraordinaire, and I’m trying to decide if you’ve done in my boss.” 

Ed couldn’t help a wince at the mention of Stede, but tried to shake it off. He shook his head working to bury any indication that he cared. “Haven’t done anything to him. Last I saw him he was…running away.”

Lucius huffed out frustration, giving Pete an expression that would sour milk. “I told you!”

“I apologized! I didn’t know!”

“Well, he didn’t know either!”

“Know what?” Ed asked, feeling like he knew what was coming, and hoping it wasn’t true.

“Nothing!” Lucius said loudly.

“That you’re Blackbeard!” Pete said over him.

And there it was. The uszh. Of fucking course. He hadn’t hidden it, but he had told Stede not to look. Clearly, he’d looked. He knew what the name meant now. He’d seen everything that Ed had tried and failed to leave behind.

He nodded at the pair in acknowledgment or dismissal, it didn’t matter which, before reseating himself at the bar. He was going to get well and truly drunk, and then he was never going to think of Stede Bonnet again.

He woke up on his couch with no memory of getting home. His tongue felt like he’d stuffed it inside a sock before falling asleep, and he was in no way looking forward to how his head was going to feel when he tried to lift it. A quick inventory told him his knee was sore from sleeping on the couch and that he was fully-clothed, boots still on. There was a glass of water on the coffee table, and he knew from experience that however it got there, it wasn’t Drunk Ed. Drunk Ed didn’t worry about tomorrow. That meant that he had to check the fucking apartment for guests. 

He groaned as he sat up, and yeah, the throbbing in his skull was accompanied by a twist of nausea. Maybe he’d just stay on the couch and worry about any spare people later. He patted down his pockets and located his phone. His keys, he now noted, were next to the water. He snagged the glass, drank half, and unlocked his phone, which was at a precarious ten percent battery.

His last message was still to Stede, but it wasn’t the one that he’d sent early yesterday evening. No, Drunk Ed had told Stede exactly how into him he was in vivid detail. Word after word, no bit of dripping sincerity spared…to crickets, and fuck, could it be any worse? He studied the messages, his fool heart ripped out and sat on view, and he couldn’t do it anymore. Wouldn’t.

He couldn’t deal with whatever Stede had happening, and he wasn’t doing this again. He fucking knew the score. He was unlovable, and he didn’t need another person to tell him that. He navigated to the contact page and blocked Stede. Time to fucking move on.

It had been a month, and really how long was Ed going to mourn a fucking hookup gone wrong? It was just that it was messy and embarrassing. Also, he was going to have to go to Alma’s graduation party. Her mother was hosting it, but there was no chance that her dad wouldn’t be in attendance.

Ed couldn’t face him, but he also couldn’t skip it. He would just have to stuff down all his complicated feelings about his inability to move on. He could make a token appearance and slip back out again before he had to have any kind of conversation with Stede fucking Bonnet.

Who he was, he had to admit, still hung up on. It didn’t seem possible, but it was like Stede was under his skin, like ink or an infection, something he didn’t know how to escape or fight. He would close his eyes, and he could still see the way Stede smiled at him. Like fucking sunshine. Like warmth. It was a lie.

Stede wasn’t safe. He had left Ed, had literally run away from him, and then ignored Ed’s drunk messaging. He’d probably done it out of politeness, out of the sense that he was sparing Ed something, but he wasn’t. It felt maybe the worst to know that he had laid himself bare and that Stede had responded with silence.

He was a fucking knot, twisted in on himself in a dozen directions, every movement creating a new wave of pain. But he could put on a mask for fifteen fucking minutes and speed through this stupid party and wish Alma the fucking best and just fucking get out. Those were all things he knew how to do. 

He dragged on his clothes and pulled his hair half up while staring at his tired fucking face in the mirror. He looked like a man who had last slept peacefully a month ago, probably because that was the case. He brushed a thumb over the bristles lining the side of his mouth, still adjusting to the short beard where his curls once had been. Fucking impulse decisions. 

He remembered that he needed a card at the door and went back to his closet to get one out of the card organizer he’d purchased because he fucking hated buying greeting cards. He was out of graduation and blank ones, so he got a “Congratulations on your new baby!” card and crossed out and replaced baby with “degree.” He’d been teaching Alma long enough to know she would think that shit was funny. He stuffed it with some cash and figured that would probably suffice. He fucking hoped so.

Then he drove to the fucking party, parked down the street, and followed the signs to the side gate, coming out on an excessively decorated yard. The patio was lined with tables of food and drinks, and people were clumped in groups all over the backyard. He took a quick scan of the area and didn’t see Alma but did make out some familiar golden hair.

Nope, this was a mistake, and Stede was about to turn and see him. Without much consideration, Ed followed someone through the back door into the kitchen. He just needed to breathe. He spotted a closed door to the right, ducking in and hoping he wasn’t invading anyone’s privacy, but he had to hide.

It worked, sort of. He met Dizzy, fucking little weirdo, and had the chance to fish Alma’s card out of his jacket and hand it directly to her. That was it, job done. Now he could go home, and goodbye Bonnets forever, unless Louis decided to follow in his sister’s footsteps and take up knitting. He gave Dizzy a few more pets and ignored her whine when he shut the door behind him. He was going to clear this event unseen. 

He stepped out the back door, and of course, there he was across the yard, looking right at Ed. Stede Bonnet, beautiful and devastating, so much joy on his face, like he was delighted to see Ed. Nope. Ed turned away, fleeing as surely as Stede had on the night of their date, rushing around the side of the house. He could hear Stede behind him.

“Ed, please. Just a minute.”

“Don’t think so.” Whatever Stede had to say would hurt, and Ed couldn’t hear it.

“Ed, please, I’m so sorry…just please let me tell you how much I regret—”

It was like everything inside was roiling back up in response, towering ocean waves and whipping wind, a storm in the making. “Regret? Don’t fucking tell me about regret. Damage is done. I don’t want whatever you have to offer.” Stede looked so miserable, and for just a moment, Ed felt bad.

“Okay, I…that’s fair. Just, please, Ed, I know I don't deserve you…your time or consideration. Just please know that I left because of me, because I was afraid. You…you’re the best—”

“No.” Ed shook his head. “No. No. No. I can’t. I need—” He took a sharp breath. “No. Goodbye.” He left.

And if this were anyone fucking else, that would be the end of it, but it wasn’t. Because all he could see was that smile on Stede’s face, the way he had practically glowed when he’d seen Ed. I don’t deserve you. As if that could be true, as if Ed wasn’t the one that was a problem.

Maybe Ed wouldn’t mind if Stede had more to say, or maybe he would. He was still twisted up and unsure, and fuck it, he unblocked Stede. Then it wouldn't be Ed’s fault if he crawled back into something toxic. Stede had to reach out. If Stede didn’t make the first move, then Ed could just be out of this. No more dragging through this fucking morass.

Only then it was two months and then three and four, and Stede never reached out, and Ed wasn’t moving on. Ed was maybe falling apart, and yeah, maybe he’d been falling apart before Stede, but it was like this failure had dissolved the glue that was holding his remaining bits together, and there was no longer any way to scrape all of his spare bits into a person anymore. 

Then the phone call, Dizzy in trouble, and suddenly Ed was promised to dog walks, to a task that wasn’t just working. To a commitment to another being on this planet, and that wasn’t so bad. It was something that wasn’t drowning.

He was tired of drowning.

Chapter Text

Now - June

“Good morning, Ed!”

Ed jerked awake, for a moment not remembering where he was. Then, as an all-over ache kicked in, he remembered exactly where he was—curled in the bathtub of the shitty motel they’d been forced to stop at by last night’s monster storm. 

He groaned and sat up, the bedspread slipping off his shoulders. 

Stede gasped. “What’s that!” 

Ed immediately realized his fucking mistake. He flipped the material back over the thing he had been clutching, cursing himself for being so fucking careless. He blamed the tiredness. The emotional exhaustion. The weariness of this fucking trip.

“Fuck off,” he grumbled. “It’s nothing.” He glanced down to make sure that the blanket was fully covering the stuffie.

“It didn’t look like ‘nothing.’ It looked adorable. Please may I see it?” Stede asked with a soft sort of excitement.

Ed didn’t think Stede meant to push his boundaries, just the general excitement of a knitter seeing something that looked interesting. But Ed couldn’t do this. He pushed the stuffie further under the bedspread and braced it between his knees. He stared at Stede. “I’d rather die. Go away.” 

Stede’s face fell, the brightness snuffed out, and for some reason, Ed felt like shit. He gave into the desire to to grip his hands in the lovely, soft squishiness of the ridiculously oversized knitted toy and looked up at Stede. “Just something I made to help me sleep. It’s private.” Ed didn’t give into the desire to sink down and drag the whole fucking blanket over his head, but he was willing Stede, with every trace of energy he had left, to go the fuck away before he cracked. 

“Yes. Of course. I’m sorry I asked. I didn’t realize it was…uh…I’m sorry. I’m just going to take Mizz Dizzy for a walk, and I’ll let you get ready.” 

He stepped back out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him, though he’d left the light on. Ed stood slowly, feeling the way the aching was everywhere but concentrated in his fucking left knee. The bathtub was a bad idea. It had also been the right choice over getting into bed with Stede and remembering everything that came before. Or dealing with the the fucking things Stede had said last night in the car. 

Ed groaned as he lifted himself out of the tub and then bent and scooped up Goldie. He wasn’t in the best place when he’d designed and knit the merperson. It had been silly to be unable to let Stede go. It was sillier yet to have crafted a large, huggable MerStede. The silliest bit had been bringing him along on this trip, but he hadn't thought they’d be sharing a room.

He checked Goldie over carefully, running a hand down his sparkly orange tail. Ed placed him in the bag on top of the other things he’d kept—Stede’s purple shirt and the lovely black cashmere scarf, both too precious to wear. Once Goldie was safely nestled in, Ed gently pulled the zipper closed.

He went out of the bathroom to get fresh clothes, wanting to make sure that he was ready to go when Stede returned. He took a quick shower, but the hot water wasn’t on long enough to budge any of the ache in his muscles. He pulled on a T-shirt and jeans and brushed his hair half up, running a hand over his short beard. He looked okay, if by okay, he meant exhausted.

Ed went to the corner of the room and looked in Mizz Dizzy’s travel crate to make sure she hadn’t peed in it overnight due to the storm. It was clean, so Stede must have successfully coaxed her to go outside. Her bowls were on the mat next to the crate, which meant that Stede had already fed her too. Ed sighed and rolled his shoulders, trying to work some of the stiffness out of them.

He apparently still had a few minutes, so he moved to the bed and flopped back, letting his head rest on the pillow Stede had used. He fished his phone out of his pocket and gave into the urge that had been riding him since last night. He scrolled down and down, finding his last message to Stede. The words still sat there unchanged, unanswered, but apparently not unremembered. 

I want to be mad at you but I’m not

You didn’t do anything a hundred people before also did

But those hundred people never remembered how I took my coffee

Or did made up chaperon bonding

Or told me I wear fine things well

I wanted everything with you

But if three days is all we get 

Then they were the best three days of my life

You were the sunshine

Stede had said it last night, when he thought they might die, I wanted everything with you.

Ed couldn’t understand how it had happened. The step-by-step process, yes, clearly, Stede had read the messages, but if he had, why hadn’t he done anything about them? Why hadn’t he come for Ed, if he had cared? He hadn’t. Only, that wasn’t true, was it? Stede had tried at Alma’s party, and Ed had been too hurt, too raw, to hear him. They were the best three days of my life.

Ed wasn’t alone in this. He wasn’t the only one who hadn’t moved on. The possibility of that punched him in the chest, his breath coming a bit short. He wasn’t going to cry. He turned his head, burying half his face in the pillow and getting a noseful of Stede’s scent, and just…fuck.

He wanted, and that wanting was so jagged that every breath felt sharp. He took another long inhale anyway, clutching the pain to him. It was worth it, and he couldn’t do this right now if he was going to get through the morning. He sat up.

He slid off the bed and got out his spare pair of shoes since his ones from yesterday were still waterlogged. Stede had been wearing dry shoes, but then Stede probably had fifteen pairs with him. The thought, for once, wasn’t laced with bitterness, and Ed wasn’t going to examine that. 

Stede pushed the door open, coming in with Mizz Dizzy still on a leash. Her furry little butt started swinging back and forth with the force of her tail wagging, delighted, apparently, to remember Ed was here too.

“Morning, Mizz Dizzy,” Ed said, trying to brighten his voice a little. Wasn’t Dizzy’s fault he felt like shit. Dizzy started practically vibrating until Stede unclipped her, and she dashed under Ed’s hand, abandoning dignity to flop on her back with her feet in the air. He rubbed a hand over her belly, and she made happy little grunts, squirming to make sure he got the best part of her tummy.

Stede snorted. “She’d never do that for me. Would you, Mizz Dizzy?”

Dizzy snuffled and bounced onto her feet, going to sniff around her bowls.

“There’s a charming little diner just up the street, and we could have breakfast. Didn’t get much farther than that. Dizzy sat down, and I had to carry her back.” Stede sighed with amusement. “We could get some yummy, restorative food, and then I’ll drive.”

“It’s my turn,” Ed said, not argument, just acknowledgement. Stede had driven the last eight hours, including guiding them safely through the wind and sheeting rain that had finally forced them to stop.

“I don’t mind!” Stede’s cheer was unabated.

“And I said it’s my turn,” Ed said, voice firm, still trying not to argue but feeling the edge of temper.

“Ed, I can see how stiff you are. Allow me, please! I’ve had some very good rest.”

Ed didn’t want to look at Stede. He really didn’t, but he found himself letting his eyes linger anyway. He was dressed casually for the road trip, a fitted T-shirt and what might have been described as utility pants if they’d been run through a fashion designer and hand-tailored to fit like a second skin. Fucking Stede Bonnet. It should be criminal to dress that well and look so fucking rested.

Stede would be, too, having had the benefit of a mattress, but it wasn’t like he’d been hogging. Ed was the one who had insisted on the bathtub. “‘m fine,” he grumbled.

“How about we table it until after we eat? Come on, Mizz Dizzy, crate!” Dizzy looked up at him, as if trying to determine whether or not he was serious about the request before slowly trotting into her crate. Stede slipped a treat out of his pocket and gave it to Dizzy before securing the door.

They locked the hotel room and began the short walk to the restaurant, Ed finding that everything hurt. He didn’t know that it would be any better in the passenger seat, but he was sore. Would it have really been so bad to sleep in the same bed as Stede?  But he was staring at Stede’s hair, glowing in the morning light, and he knew. There was every chance he might melt right back into his arms. And maybe it wouldn’t be any better an idea than the first time.

Ed focused his eyes ahead on the restaurant, a metal-panel building with evenly-spaced windows, and a weirdly jaunty awning over the door. Forcing himself to be present in this moment meant his brain couldn’t revisit their time together last year. It would keep him from imagining the feeling of Stede’s arms around him. He was hungry, in addition to sore and exhausted. He just had to make it to that the first cup of coffee, eat some fucking toast, and he’d be fine.

Stede reached the door first, and held it open for Ed. “After you, dear.” Bright, chirpy, fucking unfazed.

Ed didn’t fucking get it. Stede had to be feeling the crankiness Ed was radiating, unhappy and hurt, and underneath that, fucking fragile. Barely holding his shit together, because how could he still like this fucker so much?

It defied reason. He had loved Stede, or had been starting to love him. Stede had made him feel things he didn’t know he could feel. Then he’d run away and left Ed broken and alone. Why the fuck had he agreed to this shit show of a trip? Sure, for Alma, and for silly, anxious Dizzy, who just wanted to be around someone she liked. But he could have asked someone else to share the drive with him. Izzy, for instance, very much fucking owed him one.

Ed knew why. He’d wanted answers. He had wanted to know…not why Stede had walked away. He’d wanted to know how he’d walked away when Ed still hadn’t moved on, even after everything else. Even after a year of silence. Even though it had only been a single weekend. He was stuck, and he wanted to know why he couldn’t move forward. And now, forcefully, he was having to deal with the knowledge that Stede hadn’t moved on either.

He followed Stede to a table, still struggling to process any of it. Yesterday had been tense, and yet Stede had still been so…gracious, fucking kind. But also kind of a dick, with all the telling Ed things he wasn’t sure he was ready to hear. 

The server appeared, and they both ordered coffee. Ed let his eyes move over the other tables around him rather than look at Stede looking at him. 

“Hmm, let’s see what we have on offer this morning,” Stede said, drawing Ed’s attention back to him. Stede peered up at a whiteboard hung on the wall just below the ceiling with the day’s specials. “Hmm, bit early for meatloaf, I think.” Stede’ lips were curved up, his eyes bright; his expression was an invitation to play.

And Ed let go. He let himself squeeze out of the tight grip of his pain and fear just for a moment. “Could be really filling. With a side of pancakes.”

“Two fried eggs on top,” Stede volleyed back.

“Vanilla milkshake.”

“French toast base.” Stede giggled.

Ed could feel the corners of his mouth tugging up, and fuck, he’d missed this. It was such a sweet ease to slide into that soft familiarity. He was so fucked. Stede was smiling at him warmly, and Ed felt his heart flip over in his chest. 

“You ready to order?” asked their server, setting down mugs of coffee in front of each of them.

“How’s the meatloaf?” Stede asked in a completely normal tone, like it wasn’t eight in the morning.

“Pretty good, sweetie, but it isn’t ready yet. Can get you some sausage.”

“Oh, no thank you! May we have a few minutes more? Or—” He glanced at Ed. “Did you want the french toast? With bacon?”

It was Ed’s order. From last year, but Stede wouldn’t have remembered. “Yeah, I’d like that,” Ed agreed and looked down at his menu before returning his gaze to the server.

“And, hmm. Avocado benedict for me please,” Stede said. He shut his menu and handed it to the server with a grin.

“Sure. Get that right in for you,” she said, collecting Ed’s menu and walking away.

“You, uh…” Ed wasn’t sure he wanted to know. Once he started this line of questioning, there was no going back. It would be confirmation or denial, hope or pain. Fuck it. “You remembered what I like.”

Stede looked startled, his eyes widening. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Why would you!” Because you left me, so why would you remember fucking anything about me? It was now or never. He couldn’t live the rest of his life not knowing, so he just said the thing. If Stede ran again, that was his answer. “Because you left me. You fucking ditched me while I was waiting to take you on a fucking paddleboat. I sat on that bench and watched you run away.” And there were Ed’s old companions, grief and hurt, tears in the corners of his eyes and ache in his throat.

“I came back!” Stede protested.

“No, you didn’t.” Ed shook his head. He was confused about a lot of things, but he was damn sure about that.

“Yes, I did!” Stede’s chin was up, and his eyes were serious. “Only you were very drunk. When I tried again, you’d blocked me. I was trying to respect your boundaries,” Stede added in a gentler tone.

“I unblocked you!” Ed said, still keeping his voice low, but some heat was seeping past his control.

“No, you did not.” The words were firm, and Stede looked…hurt. He looked hurt. “I tried three weeks ago, when Alma asked, and again last week to try to arrange details with you.”

“I…what?” Fuck. Ed fumbled his phone out of his pocket, too baffled and too sure he’d unblocked Stede to pretend to be cool about it. He swiped through the contacts, hitting Stede’s name, and scrolling down. Unblock caller. He stared at it. He looked up at Stede, blinked, and looked down again.

Ed had a clear memory of unblocking Stede, and he had somehow fucked it up. “Fuck. You’re right,” he said softly. He met Stede’s pretty hazel eyes, quiet and shaken. Trying to figure out what he could even say.

“When?” Stede asked, voice quiet. “When did you unblock me?”

Ed tried not to sink into the pain of it. “Right after Alma’s graduation party. When I saw you there. It still hurt, but I was still hoping. I thought that maybe, if you…that you might have changed your mind.”

“Because I’d made a mistake. Because I knew it was real, but it was so fast, and you were you, and I was scared. Ed…you’re…” Stede paused, swallowed hard, and kept his eyes on Ed. “I want everything with you. Still.”

Ed shook his head, unable to process it, and not sure where to start. He glanced down at the phone in his hand and unlocked it one more time. He stared at the words, still the same, and then punched the fucking unblock option. Then he scrolled back up, clicked through to messaging and typed: I’m sorry. He hit send and listened to the text buzz onto Stede’s phone. 

His phone lit up a moment later: I’m sorry too.

###

Stede stared at Ed across the table, trying to rewrite the last year of his life, to see what might have been if either of them had been a bit more sensible. He’d been so sure respecting Ed’s boundaries had been the right thing, but this could have been cleared up with five minutes of conversation. Five minutes he was having right now. They’d wasted so much time. 

“You don’t remember the rest of that night, do you?” he asked.

Ed looked down at his hands. “May have blacked out a bit. Remember some at the bar. I don’t remember getting home or…or the messages.”

“You remember Lucius was there? With Pete?”

“That part would be hard to forget, given everything else.”

“He’s my assistant. And friend, and gay life coach, I guess, though he has been threatening to resign from all of those given my ‘behavior.’”

“Okay,” Ed said, looking more bewildered than anything else.

“Like I told you. I came back. Lucius messaged me, chewed me out, told me you were at the bar…I mean after. It took me a while to calm down. I was…I panicked, Ed. Not like a…I mean actual fight or flight, and I ran. Then I saw the messages, and I started back, but it took a while.” Stede sighed. “And then my phone died, and I got lost, and it took forever. But I got there.”

“And I was, what, wasted?”

“I was shocked they were still serving you.”

“Money’ll fix most problems,” Ed said flatly. “Did you apologize?”

“Yeah, and you told me precisely how I could fuck myself. It was quite inventive.”

“I can be a real bastard.” 

Stede cleared his throat. “You were crying.”

“Fuck.” Ed sighed heavily. “Get that way too.” 

“So I was trying to honor your boundaries, and I asked Lucius to take care of helping you home. I still don’t know where you live. I maybe could have asked him, but after Alma’s party, well, it was clear you didn’t want to talk to me, and I was still blocked, and…”

“And my messages?” Ed asked, his voice sounding so raw. 

“Delivered the next morning after I charged my phone. And then when I tried, my replies wouldn’t go through.”

Ed huffed, something that conveyed disbelief, amusement, and pain, all in one. “We’re complete fuckups.”

“Me, maybe,” Stede said, feeling the truth of it. He shook his head at Ed, trying to find where to start.

“You ran because of me. Because of Blackbeard,” Ed said.

“No.” Of that, at least, he was sure. “I ran because I didn’t think you could really want me. Wasn’t sure someone as…” Stede sighed, trying to find words. “I looked you up, your past, the photos, your fucking Wikipedia page, and I didn’t understand why you would want anything with me that wasn’t just a hookup. Because no one has ever wanted me like that.”

“But I did,” Ed said simply.

Their server returned, dropping their plates in front of them, and Stede watched as Ed stared down at his french toast like he didn’t even remember food was coming. He picked up a piece of bacon and bit off the end.

“You did, and I didn’t know until it was too late. Until I’d already broken things.” Stede didn’t move to eat his food, appetite gone entirely.

“But you didn’t give up. You tried again. At the party. This trip.”

“Because I knew. I knew what we were supposed to be, and I couldn’t let go of it. Couldn’t let go of you. You were the right person and I—”

“We,” Ed said firmly. “I could have told you that I wanted to date you. I could have listened when you tried to talk to me at the party. I could have reached out to you instead of waiting for you to message me. We fucked it up.”

“We fucked it up,” Stede agreed softly.

“I couldn’t move on because I knew. There’s no one else for me. I’ve been looking for you my entire life. Then I found you, and you slipped through my fingers. I couldn’t stop grieving the loss.”

They stared at each other across the table, just breathing.

“So what do we do now?” Stede asked.

“Ground rules. Fuck technology. Let’s burn our phones.”

Stede laughed. “They have their uses. We promise to never rely on technology to talk to each other. We’ll write letters…”

“Confirm received codes. Planned regular meetups.”

“Move in with me,” Stede said, meaning it sincerely and grinning hard.

“That might be fast,” Ed said, “but then I wouldn’t have to worry about finding you.”

“Better write down your home address. Speaking of.”

“I’ll have Jackie unban you from entering the community center.”

“Fab. Any other rules?” Stede tried to think of anything else that might have prevented this disaster. “Honesty? I mean…we say what we want, so we…so we don’t do this again. I want you.”

Ed nodded. “I want you, and we can figure out what that looks like.”

“Together.”

“Together,” Ed agreed. “Breakfast, to start, since it’s right here?”

“Excellent plan.”

They ate quietly and efficiently, like they both understood that this was necessary and also the least important thing they would be doing today. The server came with their check, and they paid and left. Stede pushed out into the morning air feeling positively giddy. It couldn’t be this easy. He knew it couldn’t. He had so ached at the loss of Ed, and to have this possibility returned to him felt like the biggest grace imaginable, like more fortune than he could deserve.

He glanced over at Ed, and he still looked tired. Dark circles were sitting under his eyes. But his entire expression had been transformed by the crinkles of his smile. Stede had never seen any sight so beautiful, and it felt like joy was overflowing in his chest. The time it took to walk back to the hotel room was both an eternity and an instant. Then Stede was unlocking the door, and they were inside, the world shut out behind them.

Stede waited, so unsure and wanting everything. He smiled at Ed, and reached out a hand. “May I touch you?”

“Yeah, of course.”

Ed looked as mixed up as Stede felt, but he took a step closer to Stede. Stede reached out, caressing Ed’s cheek with his hand and whispered, “You have no idea how often I’ve imagined this.” 

Then Ed was leaning in to meet his lips, and they were kissing, as lost in each other as they could ever hope to be. Stede heard himself make a noise, a kind of helpless whine that he was powerless to prevent. Ed pulled back, and Stede could now feel the tears that were dripping down his cheeks. Ed reached out and thumbed one away. 

“I never thought I’d have that again,” Stede admitted. “I didn’t think, oh, god…” The tears were coming harder, and Stede felt out of control, but also like this had been a long time coming. “Sorry,” he offered, swiping under his eyes.

Ed responded with a watery laugh and pulled Stede into his arms. “Me either,” he said, kissing Stede’s cheek before nuzzling into his neck. They held tight to each other, both sniffling. Dizzy joined with a whine, and they both broke apart laughing.

“When’s check out?” Ed asked.

“Noon.”

“And we’re what? Three and half hours to Alma’s?”

“About. I think.” 

“You were right. I feel fucking awful. What if we get back into bed until noon, and then make the rest of the drive?”

“Okay, I’ll go get the rest of the bedding.”

“And I’ll take Dizzy out for a pee now and for a walk after we’ve rested.”

Stede watched as Ed leashed Dizzy, and then went into the bathroom and lifted the pillow and quilt from the bathtub. He felt like a jerk not only because he’d pushed Ed far enough that he’d felt sleeping in the bathtub was necessary, but also because he hadn’t been able to talk him out of it.

He put the pillow down on the bed, untied and took off his shoes, and set an 11:45 a.m. alarm to give them time to clear the room. Ed was back a few minutes later. He unclipped Dizzy before leaning down and pulling off his own shoes. Ed sat down on the bed and then reclined back propping his head on a pillow.

“Do you want me to…am I allowed to join you?” Stede asked.

“That’s what I said. Glad we’re communicating now. Get in bed with me,” Ed rumbled, and Stede really did not have to be told twice. He got in the bed, and Ed moved over to him as they both wrapped their arms around each other, face to face. Ed’s lips found his again, and they kissed each other softly, slowly. Stede buried his hand in Ed’s hair, letting his fingers curve around his neck.

He finally broke the kiss and said, “I wish I’d had this every day of the last year. I’m so sorry I ran and for all the pain I caused you.”

“Make it up to me. Love me harder.” Ed said, right eyebrow lifted as he grinned.

Stede laughed. “You are about to be so intensely loved, Edward Teach.”

“Get to it then.”

Stede reached to the back of Ed’s head and pulled out his hair tie, and then moved in to massage his scalp, much like he had that first night, when Ed said it would make him a puddle. “You are the most amazing, unique person I’ve ever met. You’re so perfectly lovable, and I am going to spend the rest of my life loving you.” He continued to rub his fingertips through Ed’s hair, letting them drag over his skin, and Ed moaned.

“How the fuck do you remember that?”

“I remember everything about you. Every moment, everything you said, everything you like, and I’ll keep learning. I will hold everything about you dear.”

“Fuck’s sake. You’re forgiven, just keep doing that.”

Ed rolled his head forward, scooting down to bury his face in Stede’s chest, and then made a muffled noise that sounded every bit like Dizzy getting her tummy rubbed. Stede laughed. 

“Fuck off,” Ed said against his shirt. “I’m just really happy right now.”

“I love that. I want that for you,” Stede said, meaning it completely.

From the floor, Dizzy gave a pitiful whine. Stede felt an immediate loss of warmth as Ed groaned and pushed away from him to look over the side of the bed at her. “What?”

She squeaked further protest. Ed shifted to scoop her up and put her on the bed. She looked momentarily pleased but then saw Stede and barked. She dropped onto her rear and stared directly at him. Stede was tempted to tell her she was welcome to get right back off again, but Ed spoke to her.

“Aww, Dizzy, you’re going to have to share, and we’re taking you to your person, so patience."

Dizzy huffed, like she’d gotten any of that, and then curled up on the end of the bed, clearly settling in for her own nap. Ed wiggled back into Stede’s arms with a sigh.

“You could maybe go back to rubbing my head, if you wanted,” Ed said as he pushed his face right back into Stede’s chest.

“Oh, if I wanted, hmm, not a thing you’re into?” he asked, as he worked his hands back into Ed’s curls.

“Nuuumph,” Ed said, and finished with a moan.

“As long as we’re clear on that,” Stede said cheerfully, continuing to work over Ed’s scalp and feeling his body relax. There was something so satisfying, not only to touch Ed like this again, but to be able to help him find peace, to know that he would finally take rest.

Ed fell asleep, and Stede continued to hold him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest, and feeling how precarious life could be. He couldn't evade the continuing twinge of regret that he could have had a year of this already, and instead they’d both had pain. He vowed to himself that he would do everything he promised—communication, honesty, reaching for each other. As far as he could manage it, he would reject fear. Fear had nearly destroyed this, and he wouldn’t let it come between him and Ed again, whatever he had to do.

He stroked so gently over Ed’s temple not wanting to disturb him, but feeling tears coming again. He could have so easily lost this forever. “I love you,” he said without volume. “I want everything with you,” and then having said the words, he let himself relax into sleep.

Stede awoke to his phone alarm. Ed stirred next to him with a grumble. His face shifted to wakefulness, and Stede saw the moment when he remembered where he was because his eyes lit up. Ed leaned in and kissed him once gently, but so full of longing, and it was everything Stede could ask for.

Stede could hear Dizzy shifting, and Ed pulled back. “Dizzy, no!” She was pawing at the edge of the bed, gauging the leap to the ground. Ed sat up and held her around her middle, settling her back on the floor. He stood and said, “Guess we should get everything packed up.”

They worked together quickly to put their bags back in order, leaving out the wet things from yesterday so that they could continue drying. Once they had the car loaded, Stede took their room key to the front office. Ed started Dizzy on her walk, promising that Stede would catch up easily given her reluctant chihuahua pace.

It turned out to be true, Ed having made it only a little distance away in the time it took Stede to do the task. Dizzy was aggressively sniffing around a patch of grass while Ed stood waiting. She finally marked it and then looked up at Ed as if to see what was delaying them. They trotted another few feet for a repeat, and Stede laughed.

“I’ve never been able to really walk her, but now I see the failure was in my understanding. That dog does not walk.”

“More of an amble really. Suits us.”

“As long as she’s happy.” Stede gazed into the distance, momentarily gathering his courage. “May I drive this morning, please?”

Ed laughed, apparently enjoying the contrast to yesterday. “Sure. Drive all you want. One of us slept in a bathtub last night for perfectly sensible reasons.”

“They were very sensible,” Stede agreed, finding he wanted nothing so much as to pull Ed right back into his arms. “Thank you for letting me take care of it today.”

They continued to follow behind Dizzy until she finally, as she usually did for Stede, sat down and refused to walk any farther. Ed shrugged. “Harder to gauge when that’s going to happen when we’re not walking our usual route.”

He reached down and picked her up, snugging her into his arms, so they could retrace their path. Ed settled her into her crate when they reached the car and then looked over at Stede.

“One more kiss, before we get on the road?”

“Wouldn’t mind,” Stede said with a smile, and then Ed was back in his arms, and he couldn’t imagine anything more perfect. He wanted this every day for the rest of his life. 

Chapter Text

Now - June

“This feels weird,” Ed said.

“Compared to what?”

“Yesterday.”

“Missing all the fighting?”

“Hmm,” Ed said, “Yeah, kind of a turn on when you're feisty. Makes me want to pin you against something, and—”

“Ed, I would truly love to hear your thoughts on that, but I have to drive for the next three hours. Maybe later?”

“Maybe later you’d like to hear about it? Or maybe later you’d like to do it?” Ed teased, looking over at Stede.

“Do it,” Stede grinned with his eyes still on the road. 

They left the Sunset Inn behind them, neither of them upset to abandon their temporary and shitty, if adequate, shelter from a storm. Ed couldn't imagine ever having nostalgia for the place, if for no other reason than his knee was still protesting his choice to sleep in the bathtub. He’d like to wonder what he’d been thinking, but he knew. He’d been scared, overwhelmed, and at his fucking limit, and all of those things made him want to look for refuge. And he couldn’t take comfort from Stede, so he’d hid. 

He was happier in this moment, but also still trying to reconcile the two stories that he was now carrying in his head. He’d been telling himself the first story for a year, after all—that Stede hadn’t cared, hadn’t felt the same way, hadn’t wanted him, hadn’t reached out to him. Next to it now was the second story, that Ed had kept Stede from reaching him, intentionally or not. That Stede had read his words, and they had mattered. That Stede felt the same way, that Stede wanted him every bit as much, that Stede loved him. It made his chest ache, and he let his eyes drift to the trees lining the road as they sped past them on the highway.

He really was a little tempted to destroy his phone in retribution. Fucking technology, his life sent sideways by battery life and fiddly block options. Ed imagined how satisfying it would be to drive over it with a car and then intentionally drop it in water. He also knew he was redirecting that upset from himself, from his choices. He wished he’d listened to Stede at Alma’s party instead of doing his own version of running. He thought he’d been protecting his heart, but he’d only hurt himself more. 

He meant to glance over at Stede but found himself lingering instead, letting his eyes rest on Stede's profile. He could feel the smile that was tugging up his mouth. Ed had harbored so much bitterness at Stede, but he could see now that it was sorrow, fueled by love and hope. He’d wanted Stede so much, and he still did. He could bring the two stories together. The hurt was real, the scars were real, and the love was real too. 

“I’m sorry.” The words spilled out, without Ed really choosing to say them. “I wish that I…that we…” 

“We didn’t, but we can start now. What’s one thing that you wish you’d told me before?” Stede asked.

Ed considered it, sorting through, trying to pull a single thread. “I wish I’d told you how much I liked you. Then maybe you would have known that this was different for me, before things had a chance to get bad. If I’d said…I’ve never met anyone like you.”

“Really? No one?”

“You’re one of a kind, in a good way.”

“You may be one of a kind in thinking so,” Stede laughed, but there was pain in it. “I wish I had just asked if you wanted more. It’s…it’s not an excuse, but my divorce was very bad, and my ex-wife was extremely tired of me, and while I was doing better…it didn’t seem feasible to me that you would want something more long term. Then I found out about who you’d been, and I really couldn’t see it.”

“But I’d told you that I wasn’t happy as that version of me.”

“I couldn't hear you, not the way you meant it. I was so lost in my own mess, and I couldn't see the truth of it. The only amends I can offer is to do better going forward.” 

Ed reached over and put his hand on Stede’s shoulder, rubbing over the top of it, and Stede released a hand from the steering wheel, holding it out to Ed. Ed took it, clasping them together and appreciating the gentle warmth of Stede’s fingers against his. 

“Think that maybe that’s all that anyone can ever offer,” Ed said. He squeezed Stede’s hand, and thought about how he wanted to put the next part, before saying, “You hit a sore spot. I already knew Blackbeard was unlovable, and I was afraid Ed was too. When you ran…you confirmed everything I already believed about myself. The rest was kind of inevitable.”

“The rest?” Stede asked. He didn’t look away from the road, but he brushed his fingertips gently over Ed’s knuckles. 

“I gave up. Stopped trying. Stopped believing feeling better would ever be in reach.” Ed could feel the tears building in his eyes, but he thought he could still blink them away. “Cupcake saved me,” he said, using Dizzy’s government name so that she wouldn’t get excited. “Taking her out for fucking walks in the sunshine a few times a week reminded me that while things felt like shit, they weren’t actually all shit. It was enough for me to admit I needed to reevaluate things, get some fucking professional help.” 

“Fuck, Ed—”

“I’m doing better now. I really am.”

“And this professional help agreed that you should go on this trip with me?” Stede asked, sounding incredulous.

“Closure,” Ed said softly.

Stede laughed. “We’ve pretty well fucked that up I’d say. I thought I wanted closure too, but I wasn’t even fooling myself, not really. I knew what I wanted.” 

Ed lifted their joined hands and kissed Stede’s. “Knowing you never stopped hoping helps.” He released Stede’s hand. “Honesty, yeah? I was already struggling that weekend. I was happy about everything we were doing, but I wasn’t in a very good place. Maybe even if everything else hadn’t happened, I may have not been ready, for whatever this is.”

“We would have found our way back to each other. You can feel that right? The pull? I just want to be with you.” 

“Is that what that is? Yeah, I feel it too.”

They made the rest of the drive in something like the negative image of the day before. Or perhaps yesterday was the negative, and today was the version that was supposed to be—gray skies and storms replaced with sunshine, silence and fighting replaced with a quiet flow of laughter and chatter. After all the stress and hours of driving the day before, this felt almost like no time at all. 

That feeling wasn’t without precedent, Ed realized. He’d felt its twin on that first bus ride with Stede last year. The recognition of that fact set joy rushing through Ed, and he wanted nothing so much as to demand Stede’s clothing. Maybe as a nod to chaperone bonding, but maybe just as a bid to get him out of it. But given that they’d just arrived at the city limits of Alma’s college town, it seemed like it would have to wait. 

Stede had typed her address into his phone, explaining that he, of course, knew where she lived but that he didn’t know where that was in relation to everything else, as if he desperately needed to prove that he was a good father. Ed recalled what Stede had said last year and felt a stab of pain that he still so clearly felt the need to justify himself.

“‘s’okay. I know you’re a good dad.”

“I don’t know if—” Stede cut himself off and shook his head, not continuing his thought. They followed the directions, passing the college and into a neighborhood adjacent to it, stopping in front of a small but neat house. “She has three roommates.” 

Ed looked over at him doubtfully. “Are they going to all take good care of my Mizz Dizzy? Did anyone vet them? Do they know about pancreatitis?”

“I will make sure that Alma tells them no people food for your precious girl.”

“It’s just, I think I’m going to miss her.”

“She’ll probably miss you too.”

“Nah, not with her girl back, she won’t.” Ed reached back and stuck his fingers through the front of the crate, laughing when Dizzy swiped them with her tongue.

“I messaged her, and she’ll be out in just a minute. We can go ahead and get Dizzy on a leash, but we’re supposed to show her the right area to have her pee first thing, so.”

“Yeah, got her.” Ed snagged her leash from next to her crate and carefully popped open the door. He reached in and snapped it to her collar before lifting her out and bringing her to the front seat. Dizzy honked with delight, her tail wagging furiously. 

Stede rolled down the window at Alma’s approach, and Dizzy moved from happy to transcending her body’s ability to express joy. She made a sound that was more squeak than anything else and then attempted to launch herself out the window, stymied by Ed’s firm hold on her. 

Alma was effectively squeaking too, taking Dizzy from Ed’s grasp. She sat down on the lawn, placing Dizzy down next to her so the dog would have room to freak out. Dizzy tried to climb up Alma’s chest to lick her face while continuing to make a wild collection of doggy sounds. Alma held onto her, giving all the pets she could manage around Dizzy’s frantic wiggling.

It was cute, and Ed had to admit that it was good for his dignity that he was still mad when he began this trip with Stede or this may have been how he reacted when he saw him for the first time in a year. Maybe face licking was still on the table. He looked over at Stede to ask, but Stede was already in the process of getting out of the car. So Ed got out too and then followed Alma into the little backyard, where she was showing Dizzy where to go. Once they’d secured the gate, Alma unclipped her, and Dizzy ran around sniffing everything for a minute before bounding back to make sure that Alma was really there.

Ed stood next to Stede, close enough that he could feel the heat of his body, and it was something like comfort to be allowed to do it now. Stede, as if sensing how he was feeling, reached out and rubbed a hand over Ed’s arm. 

Alma looked up from Dizzy, studied them for a moment, and broke into a huge grin. “Why don’t you come in for a drink?”

They settled in a little seating area that was well furnished with an assortment of cast offs, mismatched but comfortable. Ed sat down next to Stede, and Stede slipped an arm behind his back, and Ed did not lean into him entirely, but it was a near thing.

Alma crowed anyway, “Fucking yes! You did it!” She waved her hands in the air with a whoop. Then perhaps considering that Ed might take offense to all the celebration, darted her eyes at him. “I really did need you to bring her,” she offered in a rush. 

“Is that right?” he asked dryly, but he was joking. He knew it had made the trip easier for Dizzy, and he didn’t mind if Alma had intended to interfere. He was finding he was pretty grateful, really.

“It was my fault,” she said.

“Alma—” he and Stede said together and then cut off to exchange looks. 

“Let me talk!” she said quickly. “You never let me apologize, and part of it was my fault. I was, um, pretty mad about my parents’ divorce. They were…it was rough. It sucked for everyone, and they didn’t make it any easier.”

Alma blew out a breath, and Ed thought that Stede might protest it, but he didn’t, sitting quietly and waiting for Alma to say more. “It’s sort of easy to blame everything on them, and I was really hurting. I was so angry at my dad, and because of that anger, I said something that hurt him. And then he hurt you, and that hurt him more, and I was just being a shitass. I’m so sorry! I didn’t know.”

“Didn’t know what?” Ed asked. 

Alma looked very sheepish. “He, uh, sort of fell apart, after, and I didn’t know it was serious—”

Stede cut over her. “Which, as we’ve discussed, was my fault. I had the opportunity to talk to you about Ed face to face, and I didn’t. That was my mistake, and you are not responsible for any of the rest of it.”

“Yep,” Ed agreed. “We did that all by ourselves, but if it will help you sleep at night, I forgive you. And we’ve worked it out.” 

“Thank fuck,” Alma said, and then, “And thank you for everything you did for Dizzy.”

“I’d say Dizzy and I are about even on that. Gonna miss her little muppet face. Send me pics, yeah?” Ed said, trying not to think about how very much he’d miss his sour little companion. 

###

Stede hoped that they weren’t rushing back, but wasn’t sure how to ask Ed if he was in a hurry to get home. Then, recalling the lessons of the last day, he just asked. “I’d like to stay and take Alma shopping for a few things.” He cleared his throat. “And I wouldn’t mind if we took a leisurely trip back. I’d like to spend time with you, just us, to figure more of this out.” 

“I wouldn’t mind time to figure things out,” Ed said, trailing a thumb down Stede’s forearm. “Jackie said I could have more days, but that I’d have to pay for my replacement’s time.” He laughed happily and leaned in to whisper, “I have the money for that.” 

Stede huffed. “Tiny salary, you said.” 

“I was incognito! Also my therapist said if the legacy of Blackbeard was weighing on me so much, I could do something about it. A lot of things about it. Everyone’s salaries are bigger than they used to be thanks to a generous anonymous donor.” 

“That’s lovely to hear,” Stede said, stilling Ed’s hand by resting his on top of it. He moved in, bringing his lips to Ed’s and kissing him soft and slow. He appreciated the way Ed’s chest was rising and falling against his as they got lost in the kissing, the small sounds Ed was making.  

“Holy shrimp! I’m glad you uh, handled everything, but I do not need to see that,” Alma said, having returned from the bathroom. 

Stede broke away. “I forgot where I was,” he said and grinned. “Apologies. May I take you shopping as amends? I noticed you’re missing a few essentials.” 

“Essentials!” Alma said with an affectionate eye roll. “Sure let’s go shopping, then Ed can buy me dinner as an apology for his part in making me see that.” 

They did go shopping and to dinner. When they returned to Alma’s, Stede helped carry the bags in. He watched as Ed said one last goodbye to Dizzy before hugging Alma. Alma released him and then turned to give Stede a longer hug, saying, “I miss you, Dad.” 

They’d talked through a lot of this before she left for school last year, but it was nice to know that even apart, their relationship was still growing and changing, in a positive way. They didn’t have to stay trapped in all the turmoil of the divorce and restructuring of their lives. Hopefully, their relationship would bear even more change, because Stede felt a permanent kind of way about Ed. He consoled himself that at least Ed and Alma got along. 

They checked into their hotel for the night—one room, one bed—and carried their bags into it. Stede watched Ed, and there it was again, another jab of fear. This time it was pondering what he’d do if he managed to mess this all up again. What had felt so sure this morning, felt a little fragile now, if for no other reason than the fact it was working. It was like someone had unscrolled a beautiful fresh sheet of paper in front of him, and he was worried that when he started to write his hand would shake and mar it.

Ed was digging in his bag for his charger and plugged his phone in before looking up at Stede. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Stede said, and again chose to dive in. Honesty. “I’m scared, Ed. I’m scared I’m going to fuck this up a second time.” His voice came out all high-pitched and tight, and he could hear just how much terror had crept up on him while he was trying to work through it. 

Ed stood, and stepped into Stede, pulling him into his arms. “We won’t, okay? We’re going to talk. Right?” 

Stede nodded, but could still feel that sharp edge of fear. He reached for his previous surety, for the feeling of rightness. “We’re going to talk,” he agreed and then said more firmly, “I want you. I’ll do the work.”

“Hmm, ‘do the work’ sounds very dreary, like labor,” Ed’s voice was all rumbly mirth, clearly teasing.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you that relationships are work?” Stede asked more seriously.

“Ours isn’t going to be,” Ed said with amusement. “Do what you love and you’ll never work a day in your life.”

Stede laughed in spite of himself. “No, I don’t think doing you is going to be work.” 

“Oh, now I have to make you work for it. We’re taking things slow. You’re going to have to romance me, no more ‘you’ll like me better out of them.’”

“And I thought I was the one that remembered everything.”

“Who could forget a line like that?” Ed’s smile was getting bigger. “We’ve got this. So if we were taking it slow, what would we be doing on a first date?”

“Always suck cock on a first date,” Stede said without pause for consideration. He watched as Ed’s nose scrunched up with laughter, deep lines forming at his eyes, and seeing the joy on Ed’s face made Stede’s chest feel lighter.

“Fuck, can’t dispute that. You did suck my cock.” 

“Yep, bit of power move, but you want to start out strong.”

“No, it’s really a good idea.” Ed leaned his head into Stede’s shoulder. “Or it would be, if we were starting from scratch, but we’re learning from our mistakes, yeah?” 

“Yeah. We are,” Stede agreed.

“So a little slow.” Ed kissed Stede’s shoulder and then pulled back. “Want to cuddle?” 

“Yes, but as I recall you already have something to cuddle. Are you planning to tell me about it?”

Ed looked startled. “Oh fuck, and we said honesty. I’m not hiding it because I’d want to tell you eventually, but, uh…no judgment, okay? I was having a rough time.”

“How bad could it be?” Stede asked. 

Ed giggled, and picked up his other bag, unzipping the top. “Brace yourself,” he said as he pulled out the object. It must have been curled in on itself to fit in the space, because Stede guessed that it was about three and a half feet long, including the long fluttery bits at the end. 

Stede realized that they were fins, done in glittery translucent purple fabric. His gaze moved up—worsted yarn, a subtly variegated orange, gold Stellina for sparkle for the…merperson’s tail. He bounced his eyes up to the top, and, oh fuck, curly blond hair, green, brown, and gold eyes embroidered with thinner yarn. He scanned his eyes downward…and burst into giggles.  

“Well, the short-row work is lovely, but I assure you they’re not that big.”

“They really are,” Ed disagreed. “Having slept with my face in them, I assure you that they’re proportional,” Ed said as he ran his hand over the merperson’s chest. 

“We can settle this right now,” Stede said, feeling a twist of annoyance, but remembering his manners. “Mind if I take off my shirt?” 

“Nope,” Ed said agreeably, the MerStede still clutched in his arms. 

Stede pulled his shirt over his head, dropped on it the bed, held out his arms for the doll, and walked over to the mirror hung on the wall outside the bathroom. He looked back at Ed lining up so his profile was reflected, “As you can see…Well, fuck.” The damn thing was proportional. 

“Got a good eye for that shit,” Ed said, lips curved into the smallest of smiles, but then he looked a little more unsure. “You’re not about to say that I’m like, uh, disturbed? Are you?”

Stede felt a little jolt in his heart for this sad, wonderful man, who had created something like this to remember him by. It was maybe excessive, but in a way that made him feel seen. “Why a merperson?” he asked. 

“Dunno, just felt right. You’re all sparkly like that all the time, all happy, and sunshiney, and stuff.”

Stede grinned. “And why is it so…um, big?”

Ed shrugged. “Maybe I was cracking up a little. It felt like it was the right size at the time.”

“Well, Kraken is going to look tiny in comparison, but I’m sure they’ll get along,” Stede said as he reached for his bag. He pulled out the black and purple octopus and curled one of its twisty arms around the merperson’s arm and shoulder. 

“You…you kept Kraken?” Ed asked, sounding stunned.

Stede couldn’t keep the surprise off his own face. “Of course I kept Kraken. You gave him to me.” 

“Oh. ” 

Then Ed’s arms were around him, pushing him back onto the bed, and kissing him with what felt like a world of pent-up need. “Mmph!” Stede said, as Ed shifted over him, and that was definitely a cock, and he was going to stop this in just a second, really. Stede moaned as Ed rolled his hips again. Maybe sometimes “taking it slow” was taking off the rest of your clothes, just in case? He reached for the hem of Ed’s shirt and dragged it up over his spine, bringing his palm to rest against Ed’s lower back and pressing them together. 

And how could he have missed this? Still remember it a year gone—the exact texture and shape of Ed beneath his hand—but he had. He had ached for Ed’s skin against his. Stede moved to try to gather more fabric, to strip the shirt off entirely, and his elbow whacked into something soft. MerStede, and he really couldn’t have his first time back with Ed next to his knitted facsimile, especially when they were supposed to be taking it slow. 

He broke the kiss. “Ed.”

Ed stilled above him, his breath still panting out. “What?”

“What about slow?”

“Slow can very seriously fuck off.” 

“Can we at least move the stuffies?” Stede asked. 

Ed glanced over at MerStede and Kraken. “What if they like watching?”

Stede laughed. “I don’t care! I don’t want them watching, and now I’m going to have to move them off the bed and make sure their eyes are turned away.” 

“What? You’re telling me you never jerked it in front of Kraken?”

“I would like to never revisit this topic again,” Stede said, feeling his cheeks heat. “But yes, of course I did. I didn’t even think about it!”

“Pervert,” Ed said with a knowing nod. 

“I am not! And now I don’t think we should—”

Ed dropped his mouth back to Stede’s to resume kissing him, and Stede was finding that, actually, he really thought they should. He went back to his efforts to peel Ed’s shirt off, Ed assisting by slipping his arms free of the sleeves, and sitting up to pull it off over his head. Stede watched him, lost in the sweetness of this being his again. Ed tossed the shirt and leaned back down to resume kissing, but this time adjusting so their cocks were lined up and grinding them together. 

Stede pushed his hips up to increase the friction, and it felt incredible. “Fuck me,” he heard himself say, and, really, he hadn’t meant for those words to escape his mouth, but they’d been said now. Ed slowed above him. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. If you want to.” 

“I want to, tonight, but maybe we could take this a little slower. I just, uh, got ahead of myself. A bit. We could try the cuddle thing?”

“Naked?”

“Well, yeah, obvs.”

“Okay.” 

Ed lifted away from Stede and slid off the bed, but only to start stripping off the rest of his clothes. Stede had seen Ed like this just last night, bare after his soaking from the storm. The reminder that the bathtub had only been the night before had a dousing effect. They really did run at things too fast together, and he had to wonder if they were both whimprone or if they just drove each other to it. Not that he would ever tire of seeing Ed like this.

Stede wriggled off the end of the bed to begin working his own pants open, moving to shove them down. Ed turned around, his cock still half hard, and laughed, asking, “Need help getting those off?” 

Stede grinned. “I know what a slut you are for my legs. I only packed the tightest ones I own.”

“You could have died getting out of the ones from last night.”

“Would have been worth it if you cried over my corpse.”

“Prefer to have you alive,” Ed said as he finished helping Stede yank the fabric down his calves. Ed stood from his crouch and went to the bed, scooping up MerStede and Kraken into his arms and sitting them to the side on a chair. He stared at them for a moment and then picked up his discarded shirt and put it over their eyes. “Hope that helps.”

“What if they can still hear?” Stede joked.

“They’ll have to live with it,” Ed said as he took Stede’s hand and drew him toward the bed. He flipped back the covers, and they settled in together face to face.

“So, slow?” Stede asked. 

“Nah,” Ed said, and then added softly, “Haven’t we wasted enough time?”

“It’s not wasting time if it’s what you need,” Stede said, reaching out a hand to rest against Ed’s chest. 

“It’s not what I want. You want to talk honesty? Last year, that weekend? After we fucked, I knew I didn’t want anyone else, but it was such a fucking ridiculous thing to feel that I didn’t tell you. Telling you now. I still feel the same.”

“I think it’s clear neither of us moved on, but we don’t have to move right back into this.”

“Hmm.” Ed was clearly done discussing it. He slid a hand around the back of Stede’s neck and began kissing him with soft urgency. He trailed his other hand down Stede’s chest, brushing a thumb over his nipple before sliding lower over his belly. He stopped, his hand held still, and broke the kiss to look at Stede. 

Stede smiled. “Yes.”

Ed resumed his downward path, catching the head of Stede's cock under his palm before stroking down his length and caressing his balls. Then he dragged his hand back up and took Stede's cock in a firmer grasp. He leaned over him and grabbed lube off the nightstand.

Stede, for a man that was very invested in what Ed’s hand was doing, had to know. “When on earth did you put that there?”

Ed poured lube into his palm. “Moment we came through the door. I’m terrible at slow, babe. Might as well know now.” Then Stede was lost in the sensation of Ed’s hand sliding over his cock. 

“In that case, dearest, faster,” Stede offered with amusement and was delighted when Ed sped his hand. 

“Still want me to fuck you?”

“I’d still do anything with you. What do you want?”

Ed grinned. “Anything.” 

“Like this then, together.” Stede said, shifting onto his back and encouraging Ed to straddle him. Stede circled a hand around both their cocks, and Ed added more lube, gliding it over each of them, and then they began to work themselves together, finding a rhythm in tandem. 

“Oh fuck, you have no idea how much I’ve wanted this,” Stede groaned out. “You. How much I’ve wanted you.”

“Might have some idea…fuck, Stede, fuck…” 

Stede was helplessly rocking his hips up trying to thrust into their combined grips, his legs pinned under Ed’s thighs. “More,” he croaked out. 

“This?” Ed asked, adjusting his thumb so each stroke teased over the head of Stede’s cock. 

“Fuck, yes. You too.” It was almost nonsense, but Ed seemed to understand what he was asking for anyway because he rearranged his fingers so that the same motion was now catching both of them. 

They were a mess of lube and precome, both their hands still working together, Ed fisting their cockheads together, and it was exquisite, scorching, and Stede wasn’t going to last, not with the way Ed’s hand was moving. “Fuck, please, a little slower. Just…”

Ed nodded. “Yeah, okay, yeah,” but something like a whine escaped his throat as he slowed his hand. “Think that’s, oh fuck, that’s still so good.”

Stede could feel the gathering of heat. He was so close, and he wanted to tip over with Ed, to do it together when they had done so much apart. “Please, come with me, I need you to come with me,” he begged, feeling how very close he was to spinning out over the edge. 

“Fuck!” Ed came, and Stede let go. He moaned through his release, coming onto his stomach as Ed did the same, and there was something about being so entirely in it together that made him want to laugh and cry at the same time, and all they’d done was a very mutual hand job. 

Stede laughed. “I love you. I’ve missed you terribly. I think I’m about to cry about being covered in our come.” 

Ed leaned down and kissed his cheek. “I love you. Glad to be here too, with you, like this.” He kissed Stede’s other cheek. “Be right back.”

Ed came back with a warm damp cloth and gently cleaned Stede. Once he was finished, he took it into the bathroom and then came back and got under the covers with him. 

“See? We did a good job.” 

“Hmm?”

“Taking it slow. It’s been an entire twelve hours, and I didn’t even fuck you when you asked me to. Growth!” 

Stede laughed. “I’ll take it. We’ve got this.”

“We’ve got this,” Ed agreed. 

Chapter Text

Now - June

They didn’t get out of bed in the morning. If they’d been following the original plan, they’d be nearly home. Instead they were taking things slow in a different way, staying cocooned under the bedding and talking as they continued to touch each other, sensual and soft, not needing to lead to anything. They were solely reconnecting, their legs and arms intertwined, hands tracing over each other, simply taking comfort in being together.

Stede found himself wishing that he had done this the time before, their first and only weekend together, maybe before they got on the bus home. There wouldn’t have been as much time for it as there was now, but perhaps it would have better prepared them for the next part. Stede might have understood exactly what he wanted with Ed before things had gone sideways. Perhaps he would have seen how much Ed wanted him. But there was no choice but to live with the way that things had happened. He had Ed right now.

He leaned in a smidge and kissed Ed on the tip of his nose.

Ed laughed. “Are you even listening to me?” 

“Yes, absolutely, and I do care about your career options going forward, but it occurred to me while you were talking that your nose is adorable. As you may have noticed, I’m a little bit whimprone, so I kissed it.” 

“Hmm, well, if that’s what we’re doing then,” Ed said, and kissed Stede’s nose in return. “Because you also have an adorable nose.” 

“Aww,” Stede said, and lifted his chin to meet Ed’s lips, just a simple brush against them, but then meeting them with pressure and a little more heat. He sighed in contentment when Ed opened to him and their tongues grazed against each other. Stede let his fingers, previously safely against Ed’s hip, glide down and inward.

Ed broke from the kiss. “Now I’m sure you don’t care about my future plans. I have no idea how you expect me to talk about them while you are…ah, fuck…touching me there.” 

“I propose a change of topic,” Stede said. “We can discuss the future at any time. I have something that needs to be discussed urgently.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“It’s been twenty-four hours now, an entire day. That’s so much longer than twelve hours.”

“So it is. What did you want to do with that information?”

“Return to an earlier idea?” 

“Yeah?” Ed asked as he dropped his mouth against Stede’s neck, starting to suck a bruise there.

“Still want you to fuck me,” Stede said. 

“Hmm,” Ed said, voice vibrating against Stede’s throat. “It has been another entire twelve hours. Sounds reasonable.” He licked downward and nibbled his teeth against Stede’s collarbone. “If you’re sure that’s something you really want to do.”

“Would you like me to beg?” Stede asked, hearing the plaintive note already coloring his question. 

Ed laughed happily. “No, I told you what I wanted. Yesterday, in the car.” 

Stede thought that over. “Feisty? You want me to be a little,” he lowered his voice, “bitchy?” 

“We don’t have to start there, but if we're being honest, I have a very specific fantasy about you being a bitch to me in tiny shorts, like when we met, and then I fuck you against the nearest hard surface. Or you know, sometimes you rail me. Whatever. I have a thing for it.”

Stede giggled. “You’re really telling me that you wanted that? What, the first time we met?”

Ed nodded seriously. “Yes. I know that you claim to have clothes packed for every occasion, but I understand if you don’t have anything for this specific—” 

“I have it,” Stede interrupted.

“What?” asked Ed.

“The outfit, or close enough. Never know when you might be called on to do a sport, and really it’s less outlandish than you might think. Alma likes to play tennis too. I thought maybe she would want to play a match, and…”

“Oh my god, Stede, I love you.” Ed sat up in bed, a huge grin breaking across his face and lighting up his eyes. “Do you want it on the desk or against the wall?” 

“Desk, I think?”

A few minutes later found Ed dressed, as he so often was, in a black t-shirt and leather pants, settled in the armchair that had previously been against the window. They'd positioned the desk in front of Ed, Stede primly sat across from him on the provided desk chair in his tennis clothes.

Ed smirked. “Say it.”

Stede rolled his eyes, and then asked, “This is really what you want?” 

“Oh, yeah, completely.”

Stede cleared his throat, narrowed his eyes, and said, “Portuguese!”

Ed didn’t bat an eye. “The fuck is Portuguese?”

“You’re the teacher! Look it up!” Stede said, delivering his line with panache.

“I think you’re the one that needs instruction,” Ed said in a low voice. “You talk to everyone like that?” 

“I—” Stede swallowed. “What?”

“You’re wound so fuckin’ tight. Think I know exactly how to solve it.” 

“I highly doubt that. What do you think would work?” Stede asked. 

“Gonna fuck your brains out, right over this desk. Think it will fix you right up.”

And fuck, Stede was seeing the vision now. He was completely hard and couldn’t think of anything he’d like better than Ed “educating” him. “What makes you think I like men?” he asked.

Ed stood up, edged carefully around the desk, and Stede wanted to laugh at how well he was selling the bit, evoking the tight space of his closet of an office. Ed leaned over where Stede was still seated. He put a finger under Stede’s chin, lifted it so they were eye to eye, and moved in until their lips were a breath apart. “Are you telling me you don’t want to kiss me right now?” 

Stede surged up, taking Ed’s mouth hungrily, both of them losing themselves in a passionate kiss. He stood all the way up, arms coming around Ed, Ed pressing their bodies together. In what felt like moments, he was balanced against the edge of the desk, Ed’s fingers tugging down the waistband of his shorts. Stede’s cock sprang free.

Ed wrapped his hand around it, stroking over him. “Seems like you’re into men, mate,” he rumbled, as his hand continued to move. 

Stede’s breath was gasping out of him, and he was about to do exactly what Stede of two years ago would have done and come all over Ed’s hand. He whined, and Ed released him, and started making his way carefully around the desk again.

“Really? Now?” Stede asked desperately as Ed shuffled around the desk.

“Verisimilitude,” Ed said, as he mimed taking the lube out of a non-existent drawer.

“You keep lube in your drawer?”

“Yeah, use it for other shit,” Ed said slowly returning and then grinning at Stede. “Want me to bend you over it?” He asked as he tugged open the buttons on his pants, pulling out his own cock. 

“Face to face, please,” Stede said, unable to keep the thread of need out of his voice. He wanted to see Ed when they finally had each other like this again. 

“Yes,” Ed agreed. He set the lube down on the desk, and pulled Stede’s shorts down and off his legs, and helped him perch on the edge. He leaned in and kissed Stede, once, hard, before saying, “You think you can come in here and run your mouth? Tell everyone how we should do things?”

“Yes, because I’m right!” Stede said, slipping back into character.

“You’re completely wrong,” Ed countered, slicking lube over himself. “And I’m going to teach you that. You are about to belong to me.” He rubbed the head of his cock over Stede’s rim, slow and teasing, no pressure, more taunting Stede than anything, and Stede arched against him, unable to remember if that was in character, but wanting nothing so much as for Ed to push inside of him. 

Ed did, starting with a shallow thrust, a small amount of stretch, then withdrawing, and Stede moaned loudly. “Please, I want it.”

“Like I said,” Ed responded and pushed deeper inside. He wrapped a hand around Stede’s hip, shifting his position and continuing his press forward until he was fully inside Stede. “Mine.” Ed pulled back and thrust, and Stede shifted so he could meet him. They found a rhythm, driving each other closer, before Ed slowed and adjusted Stede’s leg. He moved with care as he slid back inside.

Stede’s eyes dropped closed when Ed found the spot. Stede gasped out a breath, said only, “Please.”

Ed continued to stroke inside him, fucking him with so much attentiveness and care, but had not apparently forgotten what they were doing, even as he was lighting Stede up from the inside. “Who do you belong to?” he asked. 

Stede was barely holding himself together but never wanted anyone to question his commitment to the bit. “Couldn’t really say, might need to try with a Portuguese instructor to make sure.”

Ed made a sound, very likely a smothered snort, and said, “Is that how it is?” He adjusted Stede’s leg on his arm, and poured out more lube. He glided it over Stede’s cock, and then he was fucking him while working him with his hand, and Stede was lost.

“Let’s try this again. Who do you belong to?”

“You,” Stede moaned. “I’m yours. I fucking belong to you.” 

“And if you have a problem, are you going to bother anyone else? Or are you going to come here, and let me have you?”

“You,” Stede said, breath coming hard, having trouble getting words out because he was so very close. “I’m yours.” The rest was incoherent. He was coming, his words lost in the intensity of the pleasure, his brain kicked offline, just blissful sensation. He let go, his body going completely relaxed. Ed gently settled him back and pulled out.

Stede watched with half-lidded eyes as Ed, head tipped back, eyes closed, finished on Stede’s stomach and chest.

He tipped forward a bit, before seeming to come to himself, and groaned when he surveyed Stede. “Came on your polo, love. Apologies.”

Stede forced his eyes open again. “Is that part of the scene? Do I send you my dry cleaning bill?”

“Nah, just lost track of what I was doing.” Ed shrugged. “Let’s see, when I fantasized this, after I fuck your brains out…you kiss me wildly, say you love me, and then we uh…” he trailed off. 

“We what? Aren’t we doing honesty?” Stede asked as he sat back up. 

“We get married,” Ed said, looking very sheepish. 

“At the community center?”

Ed laughed. “No idea. It was always a quick cut. You know, you crying about how beautifully we fuck and then um…wedding. Jesus, I can’t believe I said that aloud. Never mind.”

“Ed, it’s a lovely fantasy. Thank you for sharing it.” Stede kissed him tenderly. “I hope you give me a chance to make all your dreams come true.” 

They giggled as they cleaned up, dressed, and set the hotel room to order, moving all the furniture back to where it was supposed to be. It was just as well they'd decided to spend another day because they were certainly going to miss checkout, given their leisurely pace.

Stede called Mary, once they were done, to check and make sure she was okay with the schedule change since they would be gone for his usual days with Louis. He was a little chagrined to discover that she’d already anticipated it. 

“Alma called,” she said simply. “I know things haven’t always been easy between us, but I’ve never wanted you to be unhappy. I just didn’t want your happiness to be more important than mine. Which is a long way of saying that I’m glad you and Ed have figured it out, and I don’t mind keeping Louis a few extra days. Take the time you need.”

“Okay, that's amazing. Thank you.”

“He’s sixteen. He probably won’t even notice,” she joked. “Take care of yourself, Stede,” she said and hung up. 

They agreed on a route back, much shorter days in the car, and a stop at the yarn shop they’d bypassed on the way out. There would be plenty of time for more talking and for more sex, but really, the most important part was just being together, basking in each other’s presence before they returned to their daily lives. They could just be Ed and Stede, no outside pressure or expectations while they reconnected with each other.

There was one thing that they’d certainly already decided to do, right away. They were never going to beat the whimprone allegations, so they might as well do what made them happy. And they were going to be so marvelously happy. 

###

One Year Later - June

“They’re going to be okay?” Ed asked worriedly. He had the tray braced on his arms, the carefully tended work of a month now ready to go into the ground. 

“They’ll be perfect,” Stede assured. “Look how leafy and green they are. All healthy and ready to grow.”

Ed looked down at the watermelon plants and hoped he’d done right by them. He followed Stede out to the raised bed they’d prepared and carefully settled the tray on the wide border while Stede explained how far apart they needed to be planted and the steps to make sure that they took to their new home. 

They worked together to transfer the seedlings. Ed liked being outside in the sun with Stede, doing something useful with him, growing something with him. It was like magic, planting the seeds in the little paper cups and watching them push through the soil. First there were two little leaves then more—a proper sprout. And Ed had been the one to nurture them.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t created something before. There’d been Blackbeard, and all the fucking accomplishments, and the knitting, but it felt different when the thing you’d created was alive. They finished placing the baby plants.

Stede smiled over at him. “There’s a job well done. What would you like to do next?”

“Wash my hands, probably. There’s a lot of dirt in gardening.” Ed stood up, and Stede followed suit. 

“There is,” Stede agreed, “but I might have meant more generally. It being a special day and all.” 

“Oh, is it?” Ed asked innocently. He definitely knew what day it was. Tuesday, a day when a year before, he might have been at work at the community center. He wasn’t there today, and he hadn’t been there on the corresponding date last year. 

“Is that how we’re playing it?” Stede asked, bemused.

“Could be,” Ed said, looking over at him. “Could be any Tuesday, you know, and us just two old guys puttering around in our little garden.”

Stede’s face broke into a bigger smile. “We’re not old.”

“Speak for yourself. I’m decrepit. Did you hear my knee creak when I stood up?” 

“Did you want me to rub it for you, old man?” 

“Yeah, later. Got other plans right now,” Ed said, picking up the tray and carrying it back toward the house to be cleaned up later. 

“Love to hear about them,” Stede said as they rinsed their hands together under the spigot. He shook off the excess water, his gaze still on Ed.

“Don’t think so.”

They went inside and continued toward the kitchen, taking turns at the sink to finish washing up with soap. Ed went first, and when he was finished, he got down glasses for both of them and filled them with chilled water. Stede took his from Ed, deliberately caressing his fingers over Ed’s hand. 

Stede took a long sip of water, eyes still focused on Ed. “Did you want to change out of your garden clothes?” he asked. He set his glass down on the counter and took a step toward Ed.

“These old things?” Ed asked. “Nah, they suit me.” 

“Got a smudge of dirt on them,” Stede said softly. He stepped into Ed and brushed a tiny bit of soil from where it clung to his joggers, fingers lingering against Ed’s upper thigh. 

Ed leaned into the touch, their bodies now only the smallest space apart. Then he remembered the glass still clutched in his hand. He stuck out his arm, placing it on to the counter, and Stede used the opportunity to slide his arm around Ed’s side, tugging him in. 

“Did you have plans?” Ed asked. 

“About to kiss my husband,” Stede said, and did so, pressing Ed back against the counter and kissing him thoroughly. 

Ed slipped his hand against Stede’s neck, fingertips in his hair, loving how it felt. He loved the way they belonged to each other. Ed was, after a lifetime of uncertainty, of never feeling that he’d developed the knack for it, finally happy. Stede had been right after all. He’d just needed the right soil conditions, a bit of water, all the sunshine he could ask for.

“Mm,” he said, breaking away from Stede. “Maybe we could shower and change our clothes. Now that you’ve pointed out that I’ve managed to dirty them.” 

“Let me help,” Stede said, reaching for Ed’s waistband. 

“Not in the kitchen. Lucius hates when we fuck in the kitchen.”

“Lucius is a hypocrite. He definitely despoiled it when we were gone last year.” 

Ed blinked. “Do I even want to know how you know that?” 

Stede shook his head. “No, actually, you probably don’t. I’m just saying perhaps he doesn’t get a say in what I do in my own home.” 

Ed gave a little shrug. “Kind of his office too.” 

“Oh, you absolutely will not be on his side, Ed. I won’t stand for it!”

“I mean, the truth isn’t going to change, just because it doesn’t suit you. You want me to lie about it to make you feel better? He makes his sandwiches in here. Gets his tea right where you like to eat my—“ 

“Ed!” Stede’s face scrunched into annoyance. “Are you doing that on purpose?” 

“Oh, yeah, definitely.” Ed grinned and gave his shoulders a little shimmy. “How annoyed are you?” 

Stede seemed to consider it deliberately and then smiled. “You could push me a little farther. Is this just our thing now?” 

“Wanted it special for today, and at this point…I’m pretty sure it’s a kink.” 

“I do like to give you whatever you want, sweetheart.”

“Mm, good,” Ed said along with a lift of his eyebrows.

“Don’t tell me what to do in my own house,” Stede snapped. 

“Just sayin’ the kitchen’s out, mate. This is a public space, not your ‘house.’” Ed accompanied it with the most irritating little finger quotes he could manage. Stede’s eyebrow shot up, and, oh, Ed had him. “You’d think someone so obsessed with having nice stuff would want to take better care of it, and here you are abusing this poor communal area, using it for your filthy—”

Stede hooked his hip and spun him to face the counter, yanking his joggers down. “I’ll show you filthy.”

“Kind of proving my whole fucking point here,” Ed said, while absolutely wiggling to slide his legs and feet free of the fabric. There was playing little games, and then there was making sure his feet were braced wide enough apart for when he got railed by his husband on his anniversary. He could hear Stede tugging his own zipper down, the rustle of him removing his own pants.

“How’s that? Stede asked, leaning over to their utility drawer to fish out lube. 

“You keep lube in your drawer?” Ed asked, trying to not laugh because he was the one who had talked Stede into keeping it there. 

“It has other uses!” Stede said snippily, and fuck, Ed had never loved anyone like he loved Stede right now. 

“Like I said—” Ed broke off to moan as Stede dragged a lubed thumb over his hole. He breathed in and out for a moment before he could bring himself to talk again. “All you’re doing is proving me right. Selfishly using this—fuck—shared space like…” Stede was slowly pressing inside him, excruciatingly slow, and Ed was having trouble even remembering what they were doing. He tried to wrench himself back on track. “...like a sex den!”

Stede laughed, and then said in a velvety tone against Ed’s ear, “In what way is a kitchen like a sex den, Edward? My point is that this is our house, and I’ll have you wherever it suits us, and right now it suits me to have you right here.”

He punctuated that by sliding a hand over Ed’s hip and down to wrap around the base of his cock, simply resting his hand there, as he continued pushing into Ed at a glacial pace. “Don’t you think I should be able to do this? Or do you think I should stop?” Stede asked, doing just that. 

If Stede taking his time had been unbearable, stopping altogether was worse, and Ed’s ability to hold onto the game shattered. “Please, love, please don’t stop,” he begged. “Oh fuck, I need you.”

Stede wasn’t gracious about it in the least. “Knew you’d come to see my point of view,” he said, and finished his thrust.

Ed shifted his arms against the kitchen counter, pushing back to meet Stede, and yeah, this was exactly what he’d wanted from the start. “I’m not sure I do understand your point of view here,” he gasped out. “Maybe you could make your point a little harder?” 

“I’ll make it as hard as you need,” Stede said, adjusting the hand on Ed’s hip and using the new hold to snap into him with more force. They fell into it from there, words slipping away, losing themselves in what they were doing together.

Stede groaned loudly, and said, “Getting closer, want me to touch you?”

“Yeah, fuck.”

Stede slid his hand up, wrapping his fingers around the head of Ed’s cock before he began stroking him. He adjusted slightly, and then everything was happening together. Stede fucking into him, the pressure of Stede’s hand on Ed’s cock, and Ed was so fucking close. 

“There we go,” Stede said softly. “You are so fucking beautiful. And mine. My husband.”

Ed came. Right onto the fucking kitchen cabinet. He wasn’t proud of it, but consider the fucking provocation, okay? 

Stede shouted behind him, noisy as fuck, and Ed adored him. Wanted to cry or sing or melt into a damn puddle on the floor. He felt Stede pull out and then lean over his back, arms coming around him to hold him. “I love you. I love you so much. Happy anniversary.”

Ed wanted to move, but found he was absolutely boneless—only the lean over the counter and the weight of Stede’s body keeping him on his feet. “Happy anniversary, thanks for, uh, doing my thing.”

Stede laughed so joyfully. “Pretty sure at this point it’s our thing. I wouldn’t keep doing it if I didn’t like it too. Now do you need a bath? Bed? Want to clean the kitchen?” 

“Your turn,” Ed argued. 

“Your come,” Stede countered.

“Your employee. You know, who I was trying to advocate for.”

“Oh, sure, I could tell your heart was really in it.”

Stede lifted off Ed, moving to the utility drawer and coming back with wipes to clean him off. He finished, pulled his pants back on, and bent over to grab Ed’s clothes. Ed dressed while Stede cleaned up after them, Ed noting that Stede was in fact using disinfectant on the affected surfaces. He thought a little apology at Lucius, citing horny reasons, which if anyone would understand, it would be Lucius. 

The Lucius annoyance thing was real, a sliver of truth spun out into something bigger for the sake of the game. Lucius had been horrified when Stede had returned home with a brand new husband in tow. Never mind not inviting Lucius to the wedding, Stede hadn’t even texted him to let him know in advance. They’d had a courthouse marriage, Alma and one of her friends as the witnesses, before they even got back on the road. They figured that it was one way to make sure they didn’t get separated again. Whatever happened, it was a lot harder to lose a husband than a hookup. 

It wasn’t much of a discussion about where they were going to live. Ed was still in a tiny apartment, Stede in his house with his design studio, so Ed had moved in when they got home. Lucius had begun to protest immediately, saying it was like Stede had hired a coworker without even telling him, one who now lived at his office.

They settled it two weeks later—Lucius declaring that he was moving to part-time work for Stede so he could spend more time on his “rather delicious naughty art.” Ed made the same adjustment at the community center, working on opposite days to Lucius’s in the studio. Jackie had brought on a local musician named Frenchie, who was a dab hand at the fiber arts, to take Ed’s off days. So he was here today with Stede, and tomorrow he’d be teaching while Stede and Lucius worked on the pattern design business.

Ed loved the arrangement. Izzy had said it was the last fucking straw. He’d declared with vehemence that both Ed and robots could fuck all the way off. It might have been more believable if he hadn’t already been so transparent about his plans to quit the community center and open a bakery with Roach. Roach, while trying to encourage Izzy to stay off his ankle, had spent months teaching him how to bake, sharing hundreds of tips and tricks and cute little shortcuts. Until, with a deadly combination of imperviousness and charisma, Roach had converted Izzy into a baker. Izzy was quitting, and Ed was free to do exactly as much or as little work as he felt like doing.

Ed was delighted that their anniversary happened to fall on their day off. It meant that he got to spend all day savoring Stede. One year of marriage, or three years and one month since the first time they’d met. He didn’t linger on that lost year in the middle too much, if he could help it. Things had happened the way they happened.

Also, during the unhurried honeymoon journey home, they’d agreed it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to find a counselor to work on their communication. Maybe there were lots of things you could overcome by just jumping right in, but there was no reason to make it any harder than it had to be. It did take a couple of tries to find someone after they explained that they’d chosen to get married after spending all of six days together. 

Now that they’d had an entire year of days, Ed was finding he didn’t regret this particular whimsical decision. Stede finished cleaning the kitchen and wrapped Ed in a hug, resting their faces against each other.

Ed said, “I am so grateful for this last year together.”

“Me too. I have loved this time so much.” Stede pulled back enough to kiss Ed’s cheek. “Thanks for agreeing to take care of Dizzy and thus giving me this chance.”

“Aww, fucking love that little monster,” Ed said with an affectionate chuckle. They’d received a picture from Alma just that morning, Dizzy cooling down from the summer heat by stretching along a baseboard, her belly on the kitchen title. “I’m glad we found our way back to each other.” 

“I don’t think I could have moved on,” Stede said finally, voice very soft.

“Stede, love, if you've shown me anything, it's that sometimes you grow all by yourself. You were already doing it, when we met for the second time.”

“It’s not the same—”

“It is the same. You told me yourself, you were sprouting, no help from me needed.”

Stede laughed. “You helped a little, you know, with the, uh, self-knowledge part.”

Ed broke into a grin. “Not the point. What I’m trying to say is that I saw you do it. It's why I believed I could do it too, when I finally started fighting for myself again.” He took a breath, not wanting to think about everything else that had led to that particular moment. “Maybe, if we hadn’t figured our shit out, there would have always been a space in your heart for me. But you would have still made a beautiful life for yourself.”

“Thank you. I’m glad I didn’t have to. I’m going to cherish every day we have together.”

“Still promising to love me intensely?” Ed asked. 

“With every minute of my life,” Stede agreed.