Archive of Our Own

The raid had gone well.

So well, in fact, that Edward, chronically unimpressed with every aspect of his profession, had broken character and insisted on celebrating their success at a nearby port. And while it had seemed like a good idea to Stede at the time, doling out wages to each crewmember with the Captainly advice to not spend it all in one place, it later seemed like an error in judgment to let everyone split up without making a solid plan to meet up again at the end of the day. Especially now that he and Ed stood on an otherwise abandoned dock, the dinghy which they had taken out that morning having hours ago returned to the ship without them.

“They’re not coming back for us, are they?” Stede lamented, his usual optimism being gradually overshadowed by life experience and a touch of alcohol-induced loneliness. Edward, who had been at his side all day (such a devoted friend!) slung an arm over Stede’s shoulders.

“Don’t take it personal, mate,” Ed said in a tone that Stede might almost mistake for cheerful. “You get enough booze into someone and they’d forget their own mother. Ship’s not going anywhere without its captain, they’ll come looking for us come morning.” The arm around his shoulder pulled at him, steering him gently off the dock with warmth and familiar pressure, and Stede frowned in confusion.

“Morning?” he asked. Ed was already leading them confidently back towards town.

“There’s an inn nearby. Looked busy, but if we're lucky they might have a room available.” He glanced at Stede, grinned, and added, “Unless you’d rather sleep on the dock.”

Stede blinked. Edward’s arm was really very warm, which would explain why he felt so flushed in the cool nighttime breeze. “No, no, a room will be fine.”

There was, in fact, an inn nearby. And the inn did, in fact, have a room available. As Ed bartered in broken Spanish with the innkeeper who seemed to be hard-of-hearing, Stede couldn’t help feeling a thrill in his chest– at what, exactly, he wasn’t sure, but it was likely due to the prospect of sleeping in such a gritty, pirate-y inn as this one. That’s thrilling, isn’t it? That must be where the thrill was coming from.

After some more helpful shouting on Ed’s part (he had repeated the phrase, “Una cama para dos!” several times at increasing volume to the ornery innkeeper, which must have been him haggling over price– how frugal of him!) they were handed a key and Ed led them up the creaking stairs to their shared room, a single candle in his hand lighting the way.

“Gotta warn ya, mate,” Ed said in that same unusually-bright-given-the-circumstances tone from earlier, “rooms at these kinds of places are usually too small to fit two beds. We’ll probably have to share.” Ed punctuated the warning by whistling a few sing-songy notes as they arrived at their room and he fit the iron key into the lock.

“I see,” Stede said, feeling that thrill again. Likely from the authenticity of sleeping in close quarters, like a real pirate. Really thrilling stuff, that. “I suppose we could get a second room, if–”

“NO,” Ed interrupted loudly, startling them both. He cleared his throat and began again at a more location-appropriate volume. “No, the innkeeper said this was the only room left–” he turned the lock– “so we’ll have to make do with whatever’s here.”

“Ah, well,” Stede chirped in a sunny tone that also certainly had absolutely nothing to do with the terribly inconvenient predicament they’d found themselves in, “I suppose we could share for a night. I’m sure you’re used to it, with all your years at sea!”

“Yeah, I don’t mind,” Ed said casually, using his candle to light the wall sconces just inside their door, “if you don’t mind, that is.”

“No, I don’t mind at all! Nothing like a good slumber party!”

Ed gave him an odd look at that remark, finished lighting the sconces, and followed Stede’s  eyeline as they both turned towards the rest of the now-lit room to see…

Two beds.

There were two beds.

Stede deflated slightly (from the disappointment at missing out on such an authentic pirate experience!) but figured it was for the best. They could get a good night's sleep here, then perhaps they could try for a Pirate Slumber Party once they were back on the ship, now that he knew Ed wasn’t opposed to sharing a bed with him. He turned to Ed, about to suggest exactly that, but thought better of it once he saw the look on Ed’s face.

“Everything alright, Ed?” he asked carefully. Ed looked furious and Stede didn’t know why, but he did want to help if he could. Ed didn’t answer and instead continued to stare at the beds, fuming. Stede tried again. “Edward?”

“‘Una cama,’ how many fucking times did I say ‘una fucking cama?’” Ed growled, his tone low and dark as his hand moved to his pistol. Stede’s eyes widened and he reached out, laying his hand across Ed’s to stop him from pulling his gun. Edward jumped slightly at the touch, as though being broken from a trance, and looked at Stede sharply.

“Edward, there’s no need for that, no matter how unreasonable the price might have been!”

“The price? Wh–”

“We’ll be perfectly comfortable here for the night, I’m sure.” Stede’s hand didn’t move from atop Ed’s as he guided it away from the gun. “Now, why don’t you relax while I go freshen up in the washroom, then I’ll see if I can find us a bottle of something to share.”

Ed blinked at him. Their hands were still touching, warm and comfortable. Ed nodded slowly.

“Sure mate, uh… take your time.”

Stede smiled, feeling helpful. Something about talking Ed down from his heightened emotional states made Stede feel accomplished, prideful, warm. He looked down and saw his hand was still on top of Ed’s. He patted it, a finishing gesture for the conversation, then made his way back downstairs to find a washroom.

***

Stede didn’t find a washroom, but he did find a kitchen with a basin and fresh water, and a shelf lined with a selection of half-consumed liquor. Figuring the innkeeper wouldn’t miss just one bottle of rum, he plucked one off the shelf and went about a semblance of his evening hygiene routine; washing his face and hands was as far as he got before he realized he had none of his typical bedtime accouterments. Most distressing, perhaps, was the fact that he had no sleepwear. How was he meant to sleep? Fully clothed? That hardly seemed comfortable.

Some loud crashing and the sound of gunshots– what a colorful neighborhood!-- pulled him from his thoughtful reverie, and he decided it best to abandon the useless attempt at approximating his skincare regime and rejoin Edward upstairs for a nightcap. It was late, but Stede always looked forward to their nightly drinks together, and he knew Ed did too. Just the thought of spending time with Ed always made Stede feel slightly aglow inside, brightening him from deep within like an oil lamp in a dark room, welcoming and incandescent. This was a new feeling for Stede in the past month or so, and as such it excited him, intrigued him, and every one of his instincts told him to chase the feeling as far as he could.

How wonderful it was to have such a good friend who could make him feel this way! :)

As Stede ascended the stairs, rum in hand, he heard the loud crashing sounds from earlier growing louder and suddenly thought they might be coming from his and Ed’s room. Worry boiled up within him and he rushed up the remaining steps, scurrying down the hallway and holding the rum bottle by the neck, ready to clobber any intruder Ed might be fighting off.

He paused outside the door as the crashing suddenly ceased.

“Edward?” he asked, opening the door cautiously, “Are you alright? I heard–”

Stede stopped dead in the middle of his sentence as he tried to make sense of what he was looking at.

What he saw was, still, two beds. One of the beds, however, had been incomprehensibly and irreparably destroyed. The mattress was shredded, and the wooden slats which had supported it were all snapped in half. The bed frame itself had been partially disassembled, legs pulled off so it teetered lopsidedly. Parts even looked as though they had been (unsuccessfully) torched, the freshly singed edges of the wood turned black, smell of smoke lingering in the air. Errant mattress feathers floated down from high above the floor, delicately juxtaposing the furniturial carnage whence they came.

Stede looked over the chaotic scene for a few more seconds before his eyes fell on Ed, reclining on the second (now only) bed in the room, legs crossed at the ankles and hands folded behind his head, the very picture of cool relaxation.

“What, ah… what happened to the bed?”

“Broken,” Ed replied, inexplicably out of breath.

Stede blinked. “Broken?”

“Yep. Broken. Can’t use it. Tried.”

“What broke it?”

“... bad workmanship.”

“Bad workmanship.”

“Yep.”

“Bad workmanship broke the bed.”

“S’what I said.” Ed stuck his chin out defiantly. Stede didn’t want Ed to think he didn’t trust him, but…

“It’s been shot.”

Ed sputtered a laugh and avoided Stede’s eyes. “Shot! Don’t be ridiculous, mate! Who the hell would shoot a bed?” He laughed again to demonstrate just how ridiculous the idea was.

“What are those holes from, then?” Stede asked, eyeing Ed’s gun, which he now noticed was out of its holster and on the nightstand, arm’s reach away from where Ed was stretched out on the bed.

“... moths.”

“... Moths?”

“Yep.”

“Made these holes.”

“Uh huh.”

“In the fifteen minutes between when I left the room and came back, moths flew in through the closed window and ate all those holes in the mattress and bed frame and flew out again?”

“... yes?”

Stede paused, turning Ed’s testimony over in his mind. “If you see them again could you try and catch one? I’d love to know what species could pull that off!”

Ed let out a breath and seemed to relax more from his (already clearly very relaxed!) position on the bed, then sat upright, patting the space next to him as an invitation for Stede to sit.

“Sure. Sorry about the bed, mate,” he said with a loud yawn, “but I really don’t mind sharing.”

***

Nude.

Ed slept in the nude.

And that was fine! Stede wanted Ed to feel comfortable, of course. And it seemed obvious, now, given that no one in their right mind would sleep in head to toe leather. Stede couldn’t help noticing, however, as Ed had gotten undressed for bed, rambling on about a story from his early sailing days, that Ed did wear an additional layer– shorts, made of black cotton or perhaps linen– between his leathers and his skin. This was likely to help absorb sweat, Stede thought, as he studied them while Edward changed. Surely that would be what Edward would choose to sleep in. Stede continued to study them thoroughly until he realized they were on the floor and Ed was completely bare, still telling his story as he climbed into their bed. The bed. Not their bed. It wasn’t as if they owned it!

Stede swallowed dryly (must be dehydrated!) as he folded his own breeches and laid them over the back of a chair. He had chosen to sleep in his shirt– not as long as his nightshirt, but long enough to cover his nethers, and made of a soft enough cotton to be comfortable for one night. Having no other preparatory tasks before him, he turned to look at the bed, at Edward, stark naked and looking impossibly content in every way as he talked animatedly, gesturing with one hand still holding the rum bottle and lit now only by the single candle burned nearly to its end on the nightstand.

Stede couldn’t help but wonder at how comfortable and happy Edward looked, as though everything about this bizarre situation was the most natural thing in the world.

Stede quirked a small grin, the warmth of what must be companionship washing over him as he climbed into the small bed next to his friend. An unusual thought trickled quietly through him– that this moment, sharing stories in the dark, huddled inches away from each other as they tried to make the best of a fucked-up situation– felt more like home than any house he had ever lived in. But he knew that thought was ludicrous, and he shook his head lightly to free himself of it. 

Hours later, it felt less like home and more like… sweat. Mostly from the heat of the body wrapped tightly around him, clinging to his torso like a corset that he wasn’t quite ready to unlace, sleeping more soundly than he’d ever heard a man sleep before.

It had happened gradually, from Edward dozing off next to him as they barely touched, to Edward shifting closer in his sleep and draping a drowsy arm across Stede’s chest, to Edward yawning and curling his leg over Stede’s thighs, snoring soundly all the while. An interesting snore, the likes of which Stede had never heard– it almost sounded as though Ed was saying the words “Honk, shoe,” over and over, and it sometimes looked like one of Ed’s eyes might be opening occasionally to peer at him in the dark, closing quickly again as he returned to snore even louder and hug Stede even closer. Fascinating, how differently one man sleeps from the next!

Stede knew that he wouldn’t sleep at all that night, and somehow that didn’t disturb him in the least. Rather, the prospect of remaining fully conscious as he very platonically watched Edward sleep felt strangely satisfying. He spent his time noting the way Ed’s hair reflected the faint glow of moonlight through the window, as one naturally does when sleeping with his friend. Next to his friend. Is there a difference between sleeping with someone and sleeping next to someone? The words felt very different, but Stede couldn’t grasp why, and instead chose to engage in the brotherly– no, that didn’t sit right– the companionable act of contemplating how Ed smelled. Stede knew that, despite the dirt and sweat that was par for the course in their profession, Ed kept his beard, face, and hair fastidiously groomed, and he wasn’t surprised to learn that Ed smelled clean, as though he might have bathed that morning. He smelled not of Stede’s lavender soap, as one might have expected (though perhaps his breath smelled faintly of the lavender soap? Nonsense, of course, it wasn’t as though Edward was washing his mouth with lavender soap!) but rather simply of skin and a hint of coconut oil.

Stede’s wandering observations were cut short as Ed shifted again, his head twisting, dragging his beard and mouth across Stede’s neck.

Stede froze. He had already been quite still, but now his mind froze as well. Suddenly his thoughts felt as heavy and irrelevant as his limbs did, and his consciousness narrowed to Ed’s breath running hot across his bare skin. He felt a heady flush come over him, his heart pounding, and a distant part of his brain wondered how his body could possibly think he had just been trying to outrun a racehorse when he had never in his waking life been this still for this long.

Stede had always considered himself something of a bibliophile. And having read many books in his life, he had, of course, come across a romance novel or two (or three)(or dozen)(or hundred.) In such stories, he recalled passages in which the hero kissed the heroine’s neck, causing her to tremble, whimper, and/or sigh. Having never experienced a touch like this himself, he had always wondered if such an act would feel as good as those texts implied, reducing him to a quivering mess or a wanton harlot with a single stroke of lips across skin.

It did neither of these things– instead, it made it feel as though his mind and body were separate machines, gears running at wildly different speeds that he couldn’t even try to fit back together. His heart raced and his blood rushed, but his thoughts were slow to arrive, feeling liquid and impossible to grasp. He felt hot, sweat prickling all over his body now rather than just the places where Ed was touching him, and muscles in his lower belly tightened involuntarily, while his mind was barely capable of grasping at even the most basic words to try and describe these sensations. Physically it felt like the thrill of jumping from a height into warm water on a summer day, and mentally it felt like falling off a cliff.

Physically, it was a discovery. Mentally, he was lost.

Just as Stede gathered his senses enough to think about what he should do about all this, Ed shifted again, arms locking tighter around him while the long leg draped across Stede’s thighs rose higher, skin against skin until it brushed– more than brushed, nearly ground – across Stede’s crotch. His shirt rode up along with the movement, and hot skin and coarse hair and salty sweat rubbing against the head of his cock so suddenly jolted through him like a whip lashing across his lap– but one that felt good, which, as Stede understood it, was not the way whips were meant to feel.

Everything happening to him was very confusing. Most confusing, perhaps, was the sound that escaped from his throat– something like a syllable, but not one that was part of any word in the English language, and at an octave (and, frankly, volume) high enough that the church choir leader from his youth would be impressed and likely invite him back to perform with open arms, age restrictions be damned.

His choir coach was not here, however. Edward was. Edward, who inhaled sharply through his nose and sat up slightly. Edward, who ran his hand firmly along Stede’s waist. Edward, whose wide-open eyes– too open, Stede thought, for someone who had just been sleeping– glinted at Stede in the night, warmly, the darkest beacon he could have imagined.

“Alright, mate?” Edward’s voice was a low rumble, and it made those involuntary muscles in his belly tighten again. He felt a twitch in a place he had never felt one before and knew a blush was coming over him.

Edward’s hand was hot on his waist through the thin cotton of his shirt, his thumb now moving in small circles. Stede had the sudden urge to look, to see if the fingers were pressing in enough to make indentations in his flesh through the fabric, to see if Ed’s palm had left scorch marks on his clothing, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from where Edward held his gaze like a sword.

Even in the dark, Stede could see Ed was smirking at him as he moved his hand lower, across flank and hip bone to rest on Stede’s thigh, forming to the curve of the muscle there. His thumb continued its circular strokes, tender and almost coy. Stede, whose arms had been laying rigidly at his sides like a corpse, lifted one unthinking, shaking hand to lay it across Ed’s shoulder for support as the world spun out underneath him.

They stared at each other for a few moments. Everything about Edward looked like it was shining– his hair, his eyes, the sweat and humidity on the skin of his neck. Stede felt reality still swirling about like a whirlpool around him so it made perfect sense for him to move his hand from Ed’s shoulder to slide across his back, searching for more stability, never breaking eye contact.

Edward leaned in, kissing him on an inhale.

The whirlpool suddenly stopped and Stede was, for a moment, completely unaware of anything besides the gentle firmness of Ed’s lips on his. Before Stede could fully grasp what was happening, Edward pulled back again, grinning proudly at him, looking as though he’d unearthed treasure.

Stede stared at him, blinked once, and voiced the only thought that came to his mind, which was:

“Did you mean to do that?”

Edward’s face fell rapidly from a beaming smile to full deadpan and he groaned loudly, falling suddenly away from Stede and onto his back on the bed and throwing his hands in the air in frustration.

“I FUCKING GIVE UP,” he shouted. Stede jumped, startled at the volume.

“Give up… on sleeping?” Whether Edward didn’t hear him or chose to ignore the question, Stede wasn’t sure, but when Ed scrubbed at his face with his hands and let out a groan that hit halfway between frustrated and furious, Stede felt fairly certain that he might have overlooked something.

“Weeks, mate,” Ed mumbled into his hands. “Fucking weeks I’ve been doing everything I can think of to try and get you into bed with me–” Stede felt all the air rush out of his lungs at once– “and after a full fucking day and a half planning this, of all this fucking effort it took to get us here tonight –” Stede felt the world whirlpool around him again– “I’m naked and kissing you and you’re still– you’re just–” Edward stammered momentarily and then huffed loudly as he crossed his arms over his chest, exasperated into silence.

Stede frowned, still confused even after that tirade. “Well, pouting never helped anyone . ”

“M’not pouting!” Ed pouted, turning his face away towards the window. The changed angle under the moonlight cast new highlights and shadows on Ed’s face, and Stede had to tell himself not to get distracted. He might not know everything about interpersonal relationships, but he had a knack for knowing when Ed was upset and needed to have his thoughts coaxed out of him. This felt like one of those moments.

“Now, Edward,” he began, his tone cautious but firm, “it seems clear to me that I may have been somewhat… obtuse regarding your intentions–” Edward scoffed– “but I don’t see any reason for you to be cross with me. You could have said something, after all. Told me what you wanted instead of this… convoluted scheming to draw me into your bed. Whatever happened to good old fashioned words, hmm?”

Edward was silent a moment, staring out the window. Stede felt the intangible yet undeniable sensation of Edward beginning to retreat into himself emotionally, a hermit crab drawing back into its shell, and remembered, regrettably, that expressing himself verbally had never been Ed’s forte. Still, Ed responded eventually, albeit guarded.

“I’ve never had to put this much work into getting someone to fuck me,” Ed grumbled, arms still crossed petulantly over his chest, abstaining from eye contact. Stede felt his stomach drop at the choice of words, but not in a bad way. “Mostly never have to do anything, just give in to whatever dickbag’s been chasing me around, maybe I’ve had to flirt a little bit, show I’m interested. Like, get into a fist fight with ‘im, or get drunk and sit on his lap, or some sexy knife throwing, or whatever.”

Ed was babbling with an affected ambivalence, which he tended to do when he was feeling vulnerable. Stede knew the signs. On any other night he would have reached out without a second thought to touch Ed, to provide a physical comfort, but tonight every signal in his body and mind was crossed, and the thought of laying a hand across Ed’s arm suddenly felt as dangerous as laying hot coals across hay.

Fire is beautiful, Stede thought absently, as he stretched out his hand and brushed his fingers across Ed’s.

“That does sound like a lot of hard work you put in,” he said, showcasing his talent for sounding very understanding even when he understood absolutely nothing. “It must have been very difficult.”

Edward’s eyes flickered towards him momentarily, then back towards the window. “Pretty difficult, yeah,” he sniffed. Stede sensed he was moving in the right direction, and as such he pressed his hand more firmly into Ed’s, lacing their fingers together. His thoughts dragged again as he felt the coarse hair on Ed’s forearm scratching against the soft skin of his inner wrist. Despite the heat of the air in the room, Stede almost shivered.

“Sometimes,” Stede started, not knowing where he was going, hunting blind and bold, “extra work makes for extra payoff.”

Edward sucked in a deep breath through his nose, arms still crossed, mood still cross, staring grumpily out the window, even as his thumb began to brush rhythmically against Stede’s.

Stede had once thought that his existence having little to no effect on the world at large was rather depressing, that it meant he didn’t matter. But the benefit of this type of casual solipsism was the freedom to follow impulse– what was the point in weighing the pros and cons of a decision if the decision didn’t matter anyway? Given a lifetime of this luxury, Stede had developed an inclination toward following his instincts, and found that his instincts regarding people were nearly always correct.

Instincts, in this case, told him to straddle Ed’s hips and grind their cocks together, which couldn’t possibly be right, so his instincts must be off tonight for some reason.

Edward huffed again, his thumb still stroking Stede’s hand. His hair still glowing in the moonlight. His face still illuminated in silver. His eyes still sparkling. Everything about him beamed in the dark, and Stede found he couldn’t take his eyes away.

“Well,” Ed brooded, still pouting as he wiggled slightly, settling further into the mattress, “if you want anything from me now, you’re gonna have to do something about it, cuz I’m tired of putting in all the fucking work around–”

He was abruptly cut off by Stede kissing him.

It would take less than two hands to count the number of times Stede had kissed another person on the mouth, and as such he felt wildly inexperienced on the subject. He wasn’t even entirely sure why he had decided to kiss Ed in that moment– it was almost as though he hadn’t decided anything at all, that his face and mouth had moved on their own accord, pressing their lips firmly together as though his body was tired of listening to Ed talk and felt it was time for a change of scenery but didn’t think to consult his mind about it.

Stede wondered what they were supposed to do next. Kissing in books sometimes went on for pages, but how long could they possibly lie there with their faces pressed against each other like this? The question disappeared in a puff of smoke when Ed moaned happily and plunged both hands into Stede’s hair, angling his head and Oh! That’s how kissing was supposed to work. The lips move! Brilliant!

Stede did his best to mirror Ed, their mouths sliding against each other wetly, and it really was much more enjoyable kissing someone like this– not standing in front of one another or sitting stiffly side by side, but lying in repose, propping himself up on one elbow as his partner pulled them closer together.

And then! Edward’s tongue. Edward’s tongue slipped between his lips and dragged across his teeth, causing Stede to gasp quietly at the novelty of it. Edward seemed to take this as an invitation and slid that wet muscle further into Stede’s mouth, dragging their tongues together and Stede felt something surge to a boiling point within him. He pressed himself forward, pushing Ed back into the mattress, chasing that hot, slick feeling that Edward had gloriously brought into his life.

Edward grunted, a happy, hungry sound, and hiked his leg up to wrap around the back of Stede’s, their bodies now flush together and his crotch pressed into Ed’s hip. Stede’s hand flew to Ed’s thigh, clutching at the flesh there to keep the long limb coiled around him. Edward sighed into Stede’s mouth and rolled his hips, grinding them together, and if there had been a single train of thought left in Stede’s mind that movement sent it barreling out of the station, never to be heard from again.

And now it wasn’t so much as though his mind and body felt separated, but that his body had earned a mind of its own and Stede was trusting it to make its own decisions while his actual mind was temporarily out of commission. The decisions were all turning out to be good ones, and so the trusting of his body continued as his hand slid itself higher up the back of Edward’s thigh, and once it reached Edward’s ass squeezed firmly, eliciting a soft whine from the wet mouth gasping underneath him.

Stede squeezed again and earned another whine. Edward hiked his leg up higher, his knee now level with Stede’s hip, and the movement caused Stede’s fingers to slip slightly, curling under and into the crevice between Edward’s cheeks. Edward canted his hips toward this new development, his legs spreading further apart and Stede’s hands slipping further still until he felt the muscles under his fingers twitching, convulsing minutely and realized he was a thumb’s breadth away from Edward’s hole, quivering and clenching at his touch.

The kissing had stopped. Ed was panting into his mouth, hips moving minutely but otherwise tense and still. Stede wasn’t entirely sure what this all meant. Had he gone too far? Did Edward want to stop?

“Stede,” Edward whispered, an answer to an unspoken question. The sound of his name carried on Edward’s breath felt like hot tea thrown in his lap, which was not a feeling Stede would have ever considered pleasant until now.

Stede’s hand didn't move. “Yes?”

“ Please, ” Ed breathed desperately, mouth hanging open and hips trying to push back further toward Stede’s fingers.

“Please what?” Stede asked, his voice low, allowing his fingertips to brush, feather light, against Edward’s entrance. Ed cried out desperately, throwing his head back and exposing the length of his neck.

Stede had always loved to see the rare flashes of vulnerability in Edward, but had never given any thought as to why. He still didn’t as he leaned in to rub his teeth against the soft flesh of Ed’s throat, pressing his fingers more firmly against the tight ring of muscle so he could feel it clench and shudder under his touch.

Edward pulled his leg impossibly higher, his calf pressing into Stede’s waist, and Stede knew this must be hell on his knee but God if it didn’t feel incredible to have Ed wrapped around him like this, whimpering helplessly as he rutted his ass against Stede’s hand.

“Please what, Edward?” Stede nearly growled into Ed’s ear. They were both covered in sweat now, skin sliding lewdly against skin. Ed’s eyes snapped open and turned on him with a look Stede had never seen before, his gaze dark and feral. He didn’t break eye contact as he grabbed Stede’s hand, brought it to his face, and sucked Stede’s index and middle finger into his mouth.

Stede made a sound that might have been a groan, who could say, who could possibly think of words when that deft tongue was working over the pads of his fingers, down their length, in between them , sucking them in until Stede could feel his fingernails against the back of Ed’s throat. Stede’s mouth went dry even as Ed’s was so wet, spit dribbling over his lip as he pulled the fingers out again.

Their eye contact still an unbroken electrical current between them, Edward said in a low, dark, urgent voice, “ Please put your fingers inside me.”

Stede exhaled a shuddering breath as he leaned in to press their foreheads together. “Well, since you asked so nicely,” he murmured against Ed’s lips, and lowered his hand back down to push both slick fingers inside him at once.

The heat, the tightness, the feeling of penetrating Edward made Stede’s cock throb, but it was the sound Ed made– the long, keening moan drawn out of him like all his darkest secrets were being laid bare– that drove straight through Stede’s core. His eyes hung on Edwards face, memorizing his look of rapture, mouth agape and lashes fluttering shut, as Stede fucked Ed slowly on his hand.

Stede’s cock was harder now than it had ever been, so hard that it hurt, and the way the swollen head rubbed against Ed’s stomach as Ed ground down onto his fingers wasn’t helping. Nor was the debauched expression on Ed’s face, or the blasphemous noises coming from his mouth. Stede simultaneously felt like he didn’t want this ever to end and didn’t know how much more he could take. He tried to pull Edward closer, to gain more friction for himself, and in doing so seemed to hit a spot inside of Ed that caused his whole body to jerk suddenly, back arching, head thrown back in a deep groan.

Stede paused. That was… something.

“Alright?” Stede whispered into Ed’s arcing neck.

“Uh huh,” Ed half panted, a tight pitch to his voice. “Y’found it. Do that again.”

Exactly what he had found, Stede hadn’t the faintest idea, but he was ready to do whatever necessary to draw more of those sounds from Ed’s exposed throat, so he did his best to replicate the movement. Edward groaned again and Stede swallowed the sound as he kissed him deeply, continuing the explorations with his fingers.

“Good?” Stede asked.

“Uh huh,” Ed whispered back.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Fuuuck .”

“Edward.”

“Hmm.”

“I need…”

“Anything.”

“Touch me.”

Edward smirked and let his hand reach down from where it had been tightly wound into Stede’s shirt. A soft moan brushed out of Ed’s lips as he grasped Stede’s cock and squeezed. Stede felt like he was losing his mind, driven to Bedlam by the calloused hand pumping at him, agonizingly slow, precome and sweat slicking the way. Edward moaned again and Stede felt himself descend further into madness.

“Those noises,” Stede groaned, pressing into Ed’s hand, still memorizing every sensation, “ fuck, Edward.”

Ed laughed breathlessly. “You like the noises I make, hmm?”

Stede felt like he was possessed, his entire body on fire, fingers moving of their own accord inside Ed, and he didn’t even recognize his own voice as he spoke.

“Men have fought wars for the sounds that come out of your mouth.”

Edward whimpered and pressed a hot, needy kiss to Stede’s lips. “Tell me more about my mouth.”

Stede had always been proud of his ability to turn a phrase, but his usual loquaciousness was being smothered slightly by the inked hand well on its way to making him come. Still…

“Your tongue carries fire,” he began, voice low and commanding in Ed’s ear. A soft sort of mewling sound escaped Ed in reply. “It ignites the air that has the honor of passing over it–” Ed moved to sit up– "and every breath, every word from your beautiful mouth–” Ed pulled himself off of Stede’s fingers and straddled Stede’s thighs– “holds the power and heat to set the world aflame–” Ed moved lower on the bed, never breaking eye contact– “and leave searing chaos in its wake as– as…”

His words were lost at the sight of that beautiful mouth hovering, lips wet and parted, so close to his cock that he could feel hot, damp breath ghosting across the head. Ed’s half-lidded eyes were still staring deep into his, dark and glittering and dangerous, that addictive gaze holding his sanity hostage.

“ Fuck, your mouth…” he mumbled, transfixed.

A vicious grin spread over Edward’s face.

“Alright, then,” he said, and his eyes never faltered their connection with Stede’s as he sucked his cock into that wicked mouth.

A loud, primal groan fell from deep in Stede’s throat at the sensation of that wet heat surrounding him, eyes rolling back into his head and wait, no. He needed to see. Eyes open again, looking down, and Christ Edward’s lips stretched around him, tight, sucking, cheeks hollowed and tongue never still– surely this was what the poets wrote about, lust and gluttony and pride rolled into one as he watched and heard and felt this fucking stunning human being swallowing his cock like he was starved for it.

Stede would have wanted this moment to last forever, but it was less than a minute before he felt his thighs clench, his stomach tighten, his hands twisting in the sheets as his orgasm ripped through him, crashing over him in waves as a guttural moan came cascading out of him.

As he spun back down to Earth, he felt Edward crawling up the bed, and when he opened his eyes their faces were level again, Ed beaming at him proudly. Stede stared at him, hypnotized, and reached up to brush his fingertips along Edward’s jaw, needing to feel the stubble and sweat and skin to remind himself that what he was seeing was real. Ed’s smile flickered and there was a flash of embarrassment and confusion at the gentleness of the touch. Edward scoffed, clearly caught off guard, but Stede could feel him leaning into his hand all the same.

“Looking at me like that, you’d think no one’d ever sucked your dick before,” he mumbled, looking down as he fiddled with the hem of the shirt Stede was still wearing, now twisted up around his ribcage and sopping wet.

Stede blinked. “Well, no one has,” he blurted, a fact which had never occurred to him needed to be stated until now.

Edward’s eyes jerked back to Stede’s face. “You– wait, never?”

“No,” Stede replied with an honest smile. “Never!”

Edward stared at him a moment. “Weren’t you married?”

“Yes, well… it’s not as though every sex act is required of a marriage.”

“That’s a pretty rudimentary one, mate.” Ed was smiling, teasing, and Stede should feel embarrassed but found it impossible with Ed’s warm tone washing over him. Ed’s fingers were still playing with the fabric of his sweat-soaked shirt, and, suddenly tired of not feeling all of Ed’s skin against his, Stede pulled the superfluous clothing over his head and tossed it across the room. Edward giggled and kissed him.

They kept kissing for a few minutes, Edward sighing softly into his mouth as their tongues worked languidly over one another, until Ed pressed his hips forward and Stede was reminded of a matter that still needed tending to.

Stede broke from the kiss rather suddenly to announce, “I think I’d like to give it a go.”

“Huh?” Ed asked.

“The cock-sucking. I’d like to try it.”

Edward just stared at him, and Stede wasn’t sure if he’d said something wrong, misread the interaction.

“If that’s alright with you, of course,” he added quickly, falling back into politeness. Ed chuckled then, and Stede relaxed slightly.

“Sure, mate, it’s alright with me.” He pulled Stede into another kiss as he settled onto his back.

“You’ll have to guide me,” Stede advised him as he sat up and moved down the bed. In the dark he could see Edward smiling at him, eyes twinkling with affection as his hands brushed along Stede’s shoulders. Stede eventually ended up curled between Ed’s legs, propped up on his elbows with Ed’s hard cock jutting out in front of him. He studied it for a few seconds, the silky texture of the skin and the way it curved slightly, until he felt a hand cup his cheek and saw Ed staring at him, his expression soft and hungry.

“So,” Stede began, licking his lips. “How do I…”

“You can just lick, first,” Ed breathed, stroking Stede’s face gently. “Just… stick your tongue out–”

“Like this?” Stede laved his tongue, flat and wide, from the root of Ed’s cock to the tip, eye contact as constant as ever. Ed hummed as he bit his lip.

“Yeah, like that,” he panted. Stede did it again, this time circling his tongue around the head at the top. Ed groaned, eyelids fluttering shut. Stede smiled. This was fun.

“What’s next?”

“Hmm? Ahh… you can, um…”

“Suck? Should I suck now?”

“Hnng– fuck. Yeah, do that.”

Stede felt himself swell with pride slightly at the way he seemed to be reducing The Legendary Blackbeard™ to a melted puddle of a man barely able to form coherent sentences, and looked forward to reducing him even further as he stretched his lips over the head of Ed’s cock and sucked, not taking any of his length in yet. Edward groaned and slid one hand into the sheets, one hand into Stede’s hair, both gripping as though trying to keep from falling off the face of the Earth.

Stede played with the head in his mouth for a few seconds, sucking gently and swirling his tongue around it, relishing in the way Ed’s thighs twitched, then sucked more of him in. Ed’s moan was loud, reckless, beautiful and Stede could think of no better purpose in life than to draw more of these sounds out of him.

“Now what?” Stede asked, popping his mouth off of Edward momentarily to check in. Ed’s breath was heaving as he answered.

“Use your hands,” Ed panted, his voice sounding suddenly plaintive, needy. Stede wasn’t sure how best to use his hands for this particular endeavor, but was certain that Ed, in his current state, lacked the mental capacity to instruct him further, so he settled his palms across Ed’s hipbones and allowed them to explore as he continued trying to replicate what he could remember of Ed’s techniques.

When one of his hands drifted to the back of Ed’s thigh and Ed responded by pulling his leg up and out, inviting, Stede suddenly realized what he was meant to do with his hands. Still bobbing up and down on Ed’s dick, he pressed his thumb against Ed’s entrance and was rewarded with a drawn-out whine and a twitch of Ed’s hips, trying desperately not to thrust, and something about that quivering, puckering sensation against the pad of his thumb made Stede want to look, so he begged off Ed’s cock and leaned back just slightly.

He watched, fascinated, as Edward lifted his hips and spread his legs further, giving Stede even more access to such a vulnerable place. His thumb still pressed against Ed’s hole, Ed’s breath heaving and his thighs shaking, Stede remembered that tight heat surrounding his fingers, remembered the wetness from Ed’s mouth, and without another thought beyond some wordless desires, replaced his thumb with his tongue.

Edward cried out, clutching at the bed and thrusting his hips into Stede’s face as Stede lapped at his hole, feeling the muscles twitch and relent under his tongue. He felt a moan roll out of himself and Edward responded in kind, planting one foot flat on the mattress and one foot on Stede’s shoulder as he ground his hips into Stede’s face.

Stede could hardly breathe. There was spit everywhere. Edwards hand found his back and dug fingernails in so hard Stede wondered if they might draw blood. None of it mattered. All that mattered now were the tight moans that rode on every breath from Ed’s lungs, and the feeling of Ed clenching rhythmically onto his tongue.

Stede only stopped when he felt Ed reaching for his own cock, and was suddenly overcome with the need to finish what he had started. He batted Ed’s hand away and sank his mouth down on Ed’s length again at the same time as he pushed two fingers back inside him.

“FUCK,” Ed shouted, then his voice pitched into a near-constant moan as Stede worked a matching pace of lips and hands, faster and faster until he felt Ed tense and shudder and eventually burst, and when Ed came in his mouth it was almost as though he felt his own release a second time, surrounded by the feeling of bringing History's Greatest Pirate to orgasm.

The sound of Ed’s wrecked moans as he came, the sight of the writhing torso arched above him, the feeling of him filling his mouth, the smell of skin and sweat, the taste of his release… Stede finally knew why the French called this “the little death” because he wasn’t sure he would survive the scene playing out before him.

He could feel Ed’s whole body twitch with the waves of pleasure as they turned to aftershocks and didn’t want to stop what he was doing but knew he had to. He drew himself off of Ed and sat up, and was just wondering what to do with his mouthful when Ed grabbed him by the back of the neck and yanked him into a kiss, shoving his tongue into Stede’s mouth and drinking himself in, licking Stede’s teeth clean of any remnants and God fucking Christ how was Stede supposed to get anything done ever again with a memory like that on his conscience for the rest of his days?

They were both gasping when they pulled away, sitting up with their hands wound deep into one another’s hair. They panted into each other’s mouths for a few seconds, the weight of the evening settling over them gradually until Edward flopped back onto the bed heavily, groaning, and Stede followed, laying gently down next to him.

They stayed speechless and untouching as they caught their breath, Ed with his eyes closed and Stede with his eyes on Ed, as though closing his eyes or looking away might wake him from this dream. After several spellbound moments, Ed’s eyes finally found Stede’s and crinkled with a smile that turned to a chuckle that turned to a kiss, lips grinning against lips and arms winding around the back of his neck as they lay pressed against each other in the tiny bed. Stede loved this bed. He wondered if the innkeeper would let him buy it. 

“Not bad for a first try, mate,” Ed mumbled into Stede’s mouth as he rubbed their noses together affectionately. Stede beamed at him.

“You think so? My mother did always say I was a fast learner.”

Ed laughed giddily, face still pressed against Stede’s as he tried to wriggle their bodies even closer together. “The fuck you talking about your mum for, you fuckin’ lunatic.”

Stede smiled warmly and wrapped a possessive arm around Ed’s waist. The damp skin on Ed’s back was beginning to cool, and Stede could already feel them starting to stick together uncomfortably and couldn’t bring himself to care. He kissed Ed’s forehead tenderly and let his lips stay there.

“Would love to learn more,” he said, suggestive and hopeful.

He could almost feel Ed grinning. “That could be arranged,” Ed replied. “Tons of stuff I could teach you. Ever been titty fucked before?”