Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

I took the bullet for all the wrong reasons, I’d just as soon kill you myself, I say. - Richard Siken, Wishbone

The raid should have gone off without a hitch, even with Bonnet’s ridiculous excuse for a crew. (Izzy would not, under pain of death, admit to anyone that said crew had improved from utterly useless to not entirely useless over the past year.) Despite the Red Duster, indicating it to be a British merchant vessel, the ship was clearly Dutch, likely captured by the navy and repurposed. The Revenge had caught up to it mere hours after Buttons first spotted it, and the crew had boarded easily enough. 

What no one had counted on was another fucking Badminton. A cousin, apparently—Reginald, according to Bonnet—not that it made any difference when this one was filled with even more bloodlust and vengeance than the other two. This Badminton also didn’t seem to realize he was the captain of a merchant ship, not a navy vessel. He barked orders to his men, and if Izzy and Jim hadn’t spent the last several months teaching the rest of the crew how to hold their own in a fight, it would have been a massacre. So far, they’d managed to gain the upper hand, but just barely. 

For his part, Izzy stayed close to Edward and, by extension, Bonnet. His mind had gone quiet, the way it always did in a fight, and he moved on instinct alone. Advance, parry, riposte, feint, attack, parry, riposte, lunge. One by one, his opponents dropped to the deck or fell back. Vaguely, he registered Edward to the left of him, carving his own path of destruction, albeit far less lethal than Izzy’s. Even Bonnet landed a blow here or there, some of them doing actual damage. 

He’d just thrown some poor sod to a watery grave when he saw it—Badminton aiming a pistol at Bonnet from the quarterdeck, waiting for a clear shot that Izzy knew would come as soon as Bonnet dispatched the sailor in front of him. A moment later, the man fell. The sound of the body hitting the wood beneath them thudded in Izzy’s ears. There was no time to think. No time to second guess. He shoved into Bonnet, sending him sprawling as the gunshot rang out. 

Pain seared through his side, its flames licking along Izzy’s abdomen as time slowed around him. People were shouting, but he could barely hear it over the ringing in his ears. Izzy braced himself for the hard impact of the deck, but it never came. Instead, he fell against a sturdy chest, strong arms easing him down as he tried in vain to catch his breath. Dark spots dotted Izzy’s vision, and he blinked slowly, the world going fuzzy.

“Izzy!” Someone was slapping his cheek. “Israel! You keep your eyes open, understood?”

“Fuck off, Bonnet,” he rasped, then gritted his teeth to try and stave off a wave of nausea. 

A bloodstain had started to bloom across his shirt and vest, and Izzy choked back a scream as Bonnet pressed hard on the spot that hurt the most. It wasn’t the first time he’d been shot—he’d taken a bullet to the thigh before he left the navy and had been grazed a few times since—but he’d seen his fair share of men die from gut wounds. He knew his odds; knew they were even slimmer at his age. But then, that was pirating, wasn’t it? Retirement was for other people. Posh fuckers with more money than sense. 

Izzy had told Ed, what seemed like a lifetime ago, that the only retirement they got was death. He’d also told Ed that he wouldn’t die for him, or for Bonnet. Only one of those had been true. In the two and a half decades they’d sailed together, Izzy had always known he would die for Edward. And when it came down to it, he hadn’t even questioned whether he would take the bullet instead of Bonnet. He’d seen what Edward had become without Bonnet; seen the damage Izzy had caused, himself. Between the two of them, Izzy was expendable. Bonnet was not. 

The ringing in his ears grew louder, and he shuddered, swallowing back the bile in his throat. Bonnet was saying something, his face fading in and out of Izzy’s vision. No. Stede fucking Bonnet was not going to be the last thing he saw. He pushed himself up with his right arm, almost certain he hadn’t managed to hold back another scream, and searched for the only person he wanted to see. 

Ed was on the quarterdeck, his knife against Badminton’s throat, and Izzy had to admit that there was a certain justice in the whole affair. He’d sold Stede out to one Badminton, and now he’d saved him from another. The English captain was saying something, begging for his life, no doubt. Not that it would do any good. Edward would pass him along to another member of the crew and walk away any second now. But Ed didn’t walk away, and Izzy knew he had to be dying, because what he saw couldn’t be real. Ed flipped the knife in his hand and slashed straight across Badminton’s neck, blood spraying as the man fell. Edward, who had killed exactly one man in his entire life, had killed for Izzy. 

“…zy, you’ve got to stay still. We don’t know how much damage the bullet did.” Bonnet’s words were muffled, as though Izzy had stuffed cotton in his ears. 

He blinked again, and the ship spun around him. At least if Bonnet had to be the last thing he heard, Ed could be the last thing he saw. He closed his eyes, sagging back against Bonnet’s surprisingly sturdy chest. There was more shouting. Someone called for Roach.

“Izzy. You can’t do this, mate. You’re gonna be fine. You’ve gotta be fine. I can’t… I need you here.” 

The faintest hint of a smile twitched at the corners of his lips. He’d know his captain’s voice anywhere. He reached out blindly, and Ed’s warm, calloused hand found his. Licking his lips, he forced himself to speak as the darkness crested. 

“Edward…”

Chapter Text

You saved my life he says I owe you everything. - Richard Siken, Wishbone

Getting Izzy back to The Revenge was far from an easy task. Stede kept his cravat pressed against the bullet hole, though he didn’t know how helpful it was. The white fabric was practically soaked through, blood staining Stede’s fingers as he tried to keep as much as possible inside Izzy. Roach had somehow managed to find a board of some sort, and he and Ed had carefully eased him onto it, making transportation somewhat easier. 

Stede kept his gaze fixed on Izzy’s face as Ed and Roach rowed the short distance in the dinghy. The perpetual scowl and stress lines had faded, but their absence didn’t make him look younger, as Stede thought might be the case. A lock of hair had fallen forward across Izzy’s closed eyes, so he reached forward and pushed it back, gently carding his fingers through. He just looked so… corpse-like. Underneath his tan, Izzy’s skin was tinged grey, and while Stede didn’t know much in the way of anatomy, he knew enough to understand that wasn’t good. 

He risked a glance at Ed and found him staring at The Revenge, his expression hard. There were so many things he wanted to say, so many assurances he wanted to give, but they all died on his tongue at that look. After a moment, though, the silence grew too heavy to bear. 

“He’ll be alright, love,” Stede murmured. “Izzy’s too stubborn to die. He’ll pull through out of sheer spite.” 

The mask dropped for a split second, and Ed’s face contorted in anguish before he set his mouth in a firm line and let out a slow exhale. “Not right now, mate. Please.” 

Stede’s gut twisted, but he nodded, blinking away the tears that had started to blur his vision. Of course Ed blamed him for this. Why wouldn’t he, when Izzy had pushed him out of the way? Their positions should be reversed, though Stede knew Izzy would never have tended to him like this. He would have been the one rowing, leaving Ed to care for Stede. Not that any of that mattered, because their positions weren’t reversed, and Izzy was the one bleeding to death on a wooden board in the middle of the ocean. 

It seemed to take forever to get back to the ship and haul Izzy up, but when they finally did, Stede took one end of the board. Ed still didn’t look at him as he picked up the other end. 

“Our cabin,” Stede said firmly. “He’ll be more comfortable. Roach, tell us what you need.” 

“As much boiling water as you can. The rest I’ll get from the infirmary.” 

Stede nodded once, and he and Ed made their way to the cabin, Ed kicking the door open with far more force than necessary. Wincing, Stede tried to focus on the task at hand, imagining what Izzy would say if he were conscious. No doubt, he’d be complaining about something. The way he was holding the board or the care with which he moved. That was enough for Stede to straighten his back and maneuver them into the cabin. 

“The desk, I think. At least, until Roach is finished.” 

They carried him over and eased the board down. Izzy stirred, choking out a strained groan, and Ed inhaled sharply. Stede busied himself with checking the makeshift bandage that covered the wound. His cravat was sopping, so he tugged off his shirt and used it to replace the soggy fabric, which he let drop to the floor. It could always be cleaned later, and really, bloodstained hardwood was the least of their worries right now. 

“Ed, will you hold this while I get the kettle going?” he asked, more to give the man something to do than anything else.

Wordlessly, Ed did as he was told, his fingers brushing against Stede’s for the briefest of moments. Stede opened his mouth to say something, but at the stricken look on Ed’s face, he closed it again. Instead, he walked over to the fireplace, which was still thankfully lit. He’d taken to keeping a kettle in the room so Ed could have tea whenever he liked. After filling it with water from the pitcher at the wash basin, he replaced the lid and used a hanger to set it on the hook inside the fireplace. The blood on his hands was starting to itch, but he knew it was useless to try and wash it off just yet. 

Looking back at Ed, he found him still staring down at Izzy so intently that it was almost painful to watch. Guilt churned in Stede’s gut, but he forced himself to focus on the tasks at hand. As the water boiled, he bustled around the room, pushing an end table beside the desk, grabbing a large bowl they’d looted only a few weeks earlier, ducking inside the ensuite to retrieve a length of towel. By the time he was finished collecting everything, the end table was covered with an assortment of things Stede thought might be of use. He’d just poured the first kettle of water into the bowl when Roach entered, carrying a wooden chest Stede had never seen before. Then again, he’d never needed the infirmary. 

“Help me strip him,” Roach ordered, his usual lightness and humor absent from his tone.

Ed moved quickly, easing Izzy’s baldric from beneath him and then working to untie his cravat. His hands shook as he slipped the ring free from the knot and slid it onto his own bloody pinkie. While Ed finished with the cravat, Stede started on Izzy’s waistcoat.

As they worked, Roach pulled a number of instruments from the drawers of the chest and set them on the table, then picked up a pair of scissors. “We’ll have to cut his shirt off.”

The bleeding had slowed from the pressure Stede and Ed had applied, but Stede knew they only had a few minutes after he pulled the shirt away to work. Izzy had already lost so much blood; he couldn’t afford to lose much more. Roach worked efficiently, slicing through the shirt and carefully exposing the bullet hole. Stede gasped as the shirt was removed, his eyes drawn to the scars on Izzy’s chest and the mottled skin on his arm, leading down to the hand he always kept gloved. A sharp look from Ed was all he needed to focus back on the task at hand. Roach set the shears down and grabbed something that looked like a pair of long tweezers, though they had the same handles as the scissors did. Dousing both his hands and the tool in alcohol, he glanced over at them. 

“Hold him down, Captains. This part won’t be pleasant.”

“Right.” Stede nodded. “Ed, you take his shoulders?”

Ed grunted in assent and braced his forearm across Izzy’s chest, and Stede held his legs. Rather than watching Roach, he kept his gaze trained on Ed. He’d not said a word since they’d been in the dinghy, and his eyes were glassy and unfocused, as though his mind was somewhere else. Stede longed to reach out and reassure him everything would be okay, but Izzy’s scream as Roach dug into his flesh was undeniable proof that wasn’t true. 

He leaned more of his weight against Izzy’s legs until he was almost lying on top of them. Izzy was still screaming, the sound muffled by a strap of leather between his teeth, no doubt put there by Roach to keep him from further injuring himself. After a moment, though, the screaming stopped, and Izzy went still. Oh god. 

“Is he…”

“He passed out,” Roach said. “Good thing he did, too. Getting the bullet out is hard enough without him squirming all over the place.”

“Ah.” The fear that constricted Stede’s chest like a band eased slightly, but he knew they weren’t out of the woods yet. Not by any means. 

With Izzy unconscious, the only sounds in the room were the crackle of the fireplace, Roach’s occasional muttered curse, and the wet squelch as he worked. Finally, he let out a soft “Aha!” A moment later, there came the clink of metal on metal, and Stede looked over at the side table to find the bullet sitting on a small plate. 

“How, uh… How does it look?” Stede asked. 

Roach threaded a long, curved needle. “It is not the worst I’ve seen. Missed all his organs, so at least we don’t have to worry about shit going everywhere.” As soon as he touched the needle to Izzy’s skin, Stede looked away. “The real danger will come later, when the fever hits.” 

Though he didn’t remember much after being stabbed by the Spanish captain, Stede did remember the fever and the dreams that came with it. What kind of dreams would Izzy have? What memories haunted him? Whatever they were, he wouldn’t be alone. It was Stede’s fault he was in this state, so it was only right that Stede would be the one to take care of him as he recovered.

At last, Roach snipped the end of the thread and let out a deep breath, his shoulders sagging. “I’ve done all I can do. All that’s left is to get him bandaged and wait.” 

Stede clapped him on the shoulder. “Thank you, Roach. Help us with that, and then you can see if any of the others need medical attention.” 

It took several minutes to wrap the wound and transfer Izzy from the desk to the bed, since they were all determined not to undo all of Roach’s hard work, but eventually they got him onto the mattress. Stede pulled his boots and stockings off, then paused. Much as he wanted to make Izzy as comfortable as possible, he didn’t want to violate his privacy, even while he was unconscious. Ed nudged him out of the way and made quick work of his trousers, tugging them down carefully. He let them fall to the floor, then pulled the blankets up to the white line of bandages around Izzy’s middle. Once he finished, Stede gripped his elbow gently. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said quietly. At Ed’s small noise of protest, he tightened his hold. “We’ll be close enough to hear if he needs anything. At least let me help you get the blood off.”

After a moment, Ed nodded, and Stede led him through to the en suite. The tub was empty, but there was a full pitcher of water near the wash basin. Stede filled the basin and grabbed the bar of lavender soap Ed liked so much as Ed undressed. Then he set to work scrubbing every trace of blood from Ed’s body, as if by doing so, he could erase everything that had happened.

Chapter Text

it’s a downright shoot-em-up. We’ve made a graveyard out of the bone white afternoon. - Richard Siken, Wishbone

Ed barely registered Stede pulling his gloves off, then tugging at his buckles to remove his jacket. All he could see was blood. So much blood. It dripped from his knife after he sliced through Badminton’s throat, soaked through Stede’s shirt as he pressed it against Izzy’s side, made a home in the creases and lines in his hands. Hands that were currently submerged in water while Stede ran a warm cloth over his face. He closed his eyes, but all he could see was the life draining from Badminton’s face, and the wheezing gurgle of his final breath drowned out every other sound in the room. 

Gasping, he forced his eyes back open. The water in the wash basin rippled where his hands shook. Stede reached for one, holding it between both of his own. He let Stede slide his rings off, but when he reached his pinkie, Ed jerked his hand back. 

“Not that one.” His voice was rough, and the words scratched as he spoke, but Stede just nodded. 

Looking past him, Ed caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, and his breath caught. His hair was a wild, tangled mess around his face, and crimson flecked his skin, even where Stede had tried to scrub the worst of it away. He looked… well, he looked like he usually did following a raid. After all, there was plenty of maiming done, and that generally involved blood. But this was different. 

It wasn’t like Ed had taken any kind of oath after he’d killed his father. He’d never made any promise to any god not to kill again. Hadn’t sworn on his mother’s life, or later, her grave. He just hadn’t directly been the one to do the deed in three decades. And now he had. Broken a commandment from a god he didn’t believe in. It’s not up to us, his mother had said. It’s up to God. She’d said the same thing every time Ed had asked why they didn’t just leave his dad and run away, and she’d spat it at him when he came home that night on the docks. The last night he’d been able to call it home. 

“Edward?” Stede’s tone was laced with a concern that made Ed’s skin crawl. 

“‘M fine,” he muttered. 

He didn’t look at Stede. Couldn’t. He knew the way Stede’s brows would be pinched together, worry in those brown eyes that were usually so comforting and kind. Ed’s breath came quicker, and he stumbled as his knee gave way, the room shifting in and out of focus. Only Stede kept him from hitting the edge of the tub. He wrapped both arms around Ed’s middle, and Ed let himself be guided into the chair in the corner of the room. 

“Arms up,” Stede said, tapping his elbows. 

Ed complied, unable to muster even the slightest protest, and allowed Stede to pull his shirt off. A moment later, Stede knelt in front of him and took his hand, placing it against his own bare chest. Stede’s heart beat steadily under Ed’s fingers, and he barely managed to swallow back a sob. 

“Breathe with me, dearest.” 

It was almost impossible, but Ed did his best to even out his shaky, shallow breaths so they matched Stede’s. A few minutes passed, and the room sharpened into focus bit by bit. Stede was staring at him, his gaze assessing, as though looking for something. Whatever it was, he seemed to find it, because he smiled softly and nodded. 

“There you are.” He cupped Ed’s cheek with his free hand, and Ed tilted his head, allowing himself to relax the tiniest bit. “Worried me there for a bit.” 

Ed cleared his throat. “Should be worried about Iz.”

Pain flickered across Stede’s face, but it was gone almost as soon as it appeared. “I am. That doesn’t mean I can’t be for you, too.” 

He stood and walked over to the door, and Ed immediately missed his warmth. He wrapped his arms around himself as Stede grabbed the gold banyan from the hook and returned to drape it over Ed’s shoulders. 

“Come now. Let’s get you out of your trousers and into something more comfortable. You look exhausted.” 

“Dunno if I can sleep,” Ed admitted. If he closed his eyes, he didn’t know what he might see. 

“I never said you had to.” 

He couldn’t argue with that. Instead, he let Stede help him stand and leaned heavily against him as they made their way back to the bedroom. Roach must have been back at some point, because Stede’s shirt and cravat were gone, as well as the board they’d used to carry Izzy. On the table beside the bed was a small glass bottle filled with brown liquid. Laudanum. He glanced from the bottle to Izzy, relief rushing through him as he watched the rise and fall of his first mate’s chest. Stede led him over to a chair closest to the bed, and he sank down into it, refusing to look away from Izzy. 

“I’ll just… I’ll be right back.” There was something in Stede’s tone that Ed couldn’t place, but he just nodded and wrapped the banyan tighter around himself. 

A door opened and closed, leaving Izzy and Ed alone. The scene was far too familiar for Ed’s comfort, not only because he’d watched over Stede in this very bed after his run in with the Spanish, but because Ed had tended to Izzy’s injuries for the past twenty-five years. All of them except one. 

“I’m sorry, mate,” Ed said quietly, wrapping his hand around Izzy’s wrist just to feel his sluggish pulse. “You don’t get to fucking retire like this, understood? I’m ordering you as your captain.” He let out a ragged breath. “Please, Iz.” 

He didn’t know how much time had passed before the door opened again, but he didn’t turn to see who had entered. Ed would know Stede’s footsteps anywhere. A warm hand rested on his shoulder, and he finally looked away from the bed. Stede held up a pair of dark linen breeches. 

“I thought these might be better than your trousers.” 

Ed nodded. “Yeah, uh… thanks.” 

Rather than stripping where he was, Ed walked over to the library and pulled the curtain closed. It was ridiculous. Izzy was unconscious, and besides, it wasn’t like they’d never seen each other naked before. Privacy was a luxury they’d only recently been afforded. Still, the thought of undressing in front of him, while he lay in the bed where Stede and Ed regularly had sex… It just didn’t seem right. 

“I spoke with Roach and Oluwande,” Stede said as Ed tugged down his trousers. “The rest of the crew mostly came away with minor injuries—cuts and bruises. The Swede has a broken wrist, and Roach said Black Pete was walking with a limp.”

Ed knew he should be relieved that everyone else had been relatively unscathed, but instead, he had to tamp down the anger that threatened to flare. The crew had only recently started to show any signs of improvement when it came to fighting. How had they made it through just fine when Izzy was hovering between life and death? 

“Is that all?” He pulled the breeches on with more force than necessary. 

“Oluwande said it was a good haul. They’ve brought most of it over already, and Lucius is taking inventory. I’ve left the two of them in charge for the time being and told Mr. Buttons to set sail for Ocracoke—”

Opening the curtain, Ed stepped back into the room. “And what will you be doing?” 

“Hmm?”

“You’re a captain, and you’ve given control of the ship to three men who aren’t. Why?”

“Well, I…” Stede looked back toward the bed. Toward Izzy. “I thought I might take the first watch. You need rest, Edward, and I don’t want to leave him alone.” 

Stede’s voice had taken on that strange tone again, and there was something in his eyes that Ed didn’t recognize. He wanted to say no. Wanted to take his seat beside the bed again, but his knee ached like a bitch and exhaustion had settled into his bones. 

“You’ll wake me if there’s any change?” he asked, walking toward the sofa. 

“Of course.” 

As soon as he was horizontal, Ed curled in on himself, staring straight ahead. Every emotion he’d tried to push away rushed toward him, churning together like the sea during a storm—anger, grief, fear, guilt, blame. He didn’t know where one ended and another began. Tears threatened to fall, but he blinked them back. They wouldn’t do anyone any good right now. 

A soft blanket settled over him, and Ed looked up to find Stede tucking it around his feet. Almost instinctively, he reached out, and Stede took his hand, pressing his lips to Ed’s knuckles. This time, he didn’t try to stop himself from crying. Stede knelt beside the sofa, shushing him gently as he stroked his hair. Ed trembled as Stede let go of his hand to gather him close, his forehead resting against Stede’s broad chest. 

“I know, my love,” he murmured. “I know. I’m so sorry.” 

He clung to Stede until the tears slowed, then stopped. When he finally pulled back, his head ached almost as badly as his heart. A lump had settled in his throat, and his eyes stung when he wiped them. Stede leaned down and kissed his cheek, then started to pull away. 

“Don’t—”

“I’m not leaving,” he assured. “I’m just going to sit by the bed for a while. Get some rest, Edward.” 

Much as he wanted to protest, he couldn’t stop his eyes from closing, nor could he stop the nightmares that plagued him as he slept.

Chapter Text

I’m battling monsters, half-monkey, half-tarantula,
I’m pulling you out of the burning buildings - Richard Siken, Wishbone

The ship is on fire. It’s on fire and sinking, and Izzy is skewered to the mast on his own rapier. He tries to scream, to call for help, but his throat is coated in ash, and even if it weren’t, there’s no one aboard the ship. His stomach lurches, and for a moment he thinks he’s going to be sick, but the nausea just roils inside him, teasing. Burning him from the inside. Something dark rises from the depths, thick as the mast where he’s still bleeding out. A tentacle. It lands heavy on the deck of the ship, another snaking up the side. A third joins in, and a fourth, and Izzy tugs in vain at the blade. The finest cherry wood in Brazil. Bonnet’s voice echoes in his pounding head. Wood crunches under the weight of the creature’s limbs as it drags the ship down into the inky black of the water below. 

Bodies hang suspended—navy, merchants, pirates—some missing limbs, some burned beyond recognition. They span as far as he can see, and the ones who still have eyes stare blankly at him. Some of the men are blurry; Izzy can’t make out the details. Others are sharper, their features and injuries familiar. A hulking bear of a man whose neck has been sliced through, a lad barely old enough to be an able seaman missing half his face, a grizzled captain who seems to smirk at Izzy, even in death. He doesn’t regret that one. Doesn’t regret the bosun, either. But the boy, and some of the others… 

Around him, the tentacles move in unison, whatever creature they belong to spinning beneath him, and the water bends to its will. The bodies of the men he’s killed move with it as a hole opens in the sea, dragging them all inside. Izzy tries to claw his way out, but he can’t breathe and his muscles burn. There’s nothing to do but give in to the maelstrom, and for the first time in over thirty years, Izzy prays. He prays for death. 

The prayer goes unanswered, and the whirlpool scalds his skin, steam obscuring his vision and clogging his lungs, but it’s not steam. It’s smoke. The water is on fire, and it burns, and he’s standing on the smoldering deck of a familiar ship, its sails blazing and falling in tatters around him. A body is huddled on the quarterdeck, leather and hair blending in to the black wood beneath it. He’s trapped, boots sticking to the tar under his feet. A hand wreathed in flames grabs his arm and pulls, and he and Jack burn together, shoving and kicking everything in their way to get to the first mate Hornigold left to die. The man Izzy had sworn to protect from the moment he stepped foot on The Marianne. He has to get to Edward. Has to save him from the fire and abandon ship. But the world around him is hazy, and he can’t see through the smoke. His head pounds and his side screams in pain, and he’s not even on deck anymore, he’s…

…in a cabin, the bed unfamiliar and too soft to be his own. Something metal pressed against his lips, and he parted them, cool water soothing his scorched throat. The ship wasn’t on fire, so why was he still burning? He tried to open his eyes, but they were sealed shut, the lids too heavy. Every breath was torture, pain searing his lungs as he tried to inhale. 

“Izzy?”

He knew that voice. It had haunted his sleep for the better part of a year, taunting him, insulting him, and on more than one occasion, whispering soft words of praise. Those dreams left him reeling for days afterward. 

“Israel?”

No. Stede fucking Bonnet didn’t get to call him that. If he could just get his mouth to work, he’d tell him to go fuck himself, but when he tried, the only sound that came out was a low groan. Hell’s teeth, that was pathetic. Couldn’t even insult Bonnet properly. He waited, breathing shallowly not just to avoid the pain but so he could hear when Edward spoke.

“His fever is going back up.” That wasn’t Edward. It was Roach. 

“Do you think it’s infected?”

“Can’t say. A little Dragon’s Blood wouldn’t hurt, though, next time we change the bandages.”

“Dragon’s Blood?” Bonnet sounded curious and horrified at the same time, and Izzy wanted to roll his eyes. 

“A plant. To help the wound heal,” Roach said. 

“Oh. Well, if you think it’ll help, by all means.” 

The words grated on Izzy’s already inflamed nerves. Bonnet shouldn’t have been the one making these decisions or consulting with Roach. He didn’t know the first thing about medicine. Not that Ed was an expert, but at least he’d helped in the past. So where the fuck was he now? 

“He’ll need more of this,” Roach said. 

The lip of a glass bottle touched his mouth, but Izzy refused to open this time. Fucking laudanum. He hated the stuff. A boney finger pressed against the sensitive spot behind his ear in warning. 

“If you need encouragement, I’d be happy to help.” Roach sounded all too excited at the prospect. 

Reluctantly, Izzy swallowed down the bitter, sticky liquid, too exhausted to even shudder as it went down. Someone wiped a cold rag against his brow, then down his cheeks, nose, and neck. Bonnet and Roach were still speaking, but Izzy couldn’t make out the words. They slurred together as he sank deeper and deeper into…

…the same bed, still soft and uncomfortably comfortable. A hand covers his mouth, and there’s something on his tongue. 

“Eat up. That’s it. Don’t forget to chew.” 

He wants to scream. Wants to vomit. But all he can do is swallow what Blackbeard has taken from him. The toe goes down like a bullet, hitting his stomach like lead as Blackbeard pats his cheek, smearing blood across his face. It’s a light punishment compared to the scathing contempt in his captain’s eyes. 

“Couldn’t leave it alone, could you, Iz? Couldn’t let me be fucking happy. What, you thought you’d get rid of him and I’d come crawling like a dog?” Blackbeard snorts. “That’s your place, mate. Not mine.” 

The hand is still on his mouth, fingers squeezing into his jaw. He wants to look away, but every time he tries, Blackbeard is somehow there, staring at him with a cruelty he’s seen directed at so many others, but never at him. The cabin is decorated with Bonnet’s things, and he’s covered in Bonnet’s duvet, but Blackbeard’s got greasepaint streaked across his face, and Izzy tries and fails to reconcile the two. 

“This what you always wanted?” Blackbeard’s lip curls into a sneer. “Naked in the captain’s bed like a fucking whore? You thought I didn’t see you looking, but you forget who I am. Nearly twenty years you followed me around like a mongrel, waiting for me to look back. All that devotion just to get me to fuck you.” 

Izzy had thought the flames were bad. He’d thought the worst thing his mind could possibly give him was the sight of all the deaths he was responsible for. But nothing compares to this torture—being forced to hear what he had always known. His cheeks are wet, from blood or tears or both, but he can’t summon the strength to wipe them. Can’t break the gaze of the only man he has ever loved. 

“Above all else is loyalty to your captain,” Blackbeard says, “but you and me, we both know it’s more than that.” 

Please, Izzy begs silently. Please don’t say it.

“You’re in love with me. Well. As much as a man like you can love, anyway.” Izzy flinches at his snort. “What could you possibly give me that Stede hasn’t? Your heart? You’d have to have one first. Your body? I’ve had Stede every way you can think of, right where you’re laying.”

Izzy shudders. He doesn’t want to think all the things Bonnet’s had. Things Izzy will only ever experience in his fantasies, when the urge to touch himself is too great to resist. He doesn’t let himself give in often. If he did, he wouldn’t be able to bear staying on the ship. Sure, he could fuck off back to The Queen Anne, but leaving would be even worse. 

Stede’s hand is on Blackbeard’s shoulder, except he isn’t Blackbeard. Not anymore. He’s wearing the ridiculous copper breeches and frilly white shirt he’d worn the night of the lighthouse fuckery. His eyes are soft, the way they are every time he looks at Stede, and Izzy aches. Their kiss is so tender it’s almost painful, and Stede makes a soft noise against Ed’s lips. He hates it. The sight of it disgusts him, but he can’t look away. Can’t do anything but stare at every place they’re connected—Ed’s hand on Stede’s cheek, Stede’s fingers in Ed’s hair, their mouths and bodies pressed together.

When they finally break apart, Stede glances at him, his expression smug. “Oh good…”

“…He’s awake again.”

Chapter Text

Your shoes are filling with your own damn blood,
you must want something, just tell me, and it’s yours. - Richard Siken, Wishbone

The sun had started to rise, though only the faintest hints of yellow broke through  heavy clouds that promised rain. Scrubbing a hand across his face, Stede stretched, the muscles in his back protesting the sudden change of movement. His eyes stung, and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. Worst of all, though, was the grime that seemed to permeate through every layer of clothing and cling to his skin. A bath sounded heavenly, but that would require leaving Izzy, and Ed hadn’t returned. He’d left almost immediately after waking, muttering something about needing to see to the crew. Stede had tried to persuade him to rest a while longer, but Ed had pressed a brief kiss to his temple and walked out the door. 

That had been hours ago, before nightfall. Izzy had woken a few times in the night, but only for a few seconds at a time. He didn’t open his eyes, and Stede wouldn’t have even realized if not for the way his breath changed and small movements he made. Stede was fairly sure he’d fallen asleep, himself, at some point, but everything was so blurred together he couldn’t be certain. Izzy’s chest rose and fell, and Stede pressed two fingers underneath his jaw, just to feel his pulse. He twitched underneath the touch, his brows drawing together and his mouth twisting. Apparently even in his dreams, Izzy hated him. Sighing, Stede pulled away. At least he could take time to clean up a bit.

He stood, his joints creaking, and made his way to the en suite. Ed’s jacket and shirt were gone, so he must have been in at some point. Hopefully he’d had a proper wash. A fresh pitcher of water had been left beside the basin, so Stede filled it and stripped down. He wet a cloth and lathered it with soap, then scoured his chest and arms until they stung. Most of the blood had been washed away as he cleaned Ed, but there was still a surprising amount on his neck and face. It tinged the water pink as he rinsed the cloth and washed the soap from his body. His lower half, Stede gave only a cursory scrub before dropping the cloth back in the water and tugging on his small clothes. The rest, he left on the floor. For the most part, Stede did his best to care for his clothing, even the items that got blood or dirt or any other unfortunate substance on them. These, though, were not worth saving. He didn’t think he could look at them—much less wear them—again. 

Foregoing his usual attire, Stede dressed in a simple shirt and breeches, not even bothering with stockings. Between the rain clouds and his self-appointed role as Izzy’s caretaker, he couldn’t see himself leaving the cabin today. Padding across the room, he settled back in the chair by the bed, somewhat more refreshed, if still exhausted. Izzy hadn’t moved, not that Stede had expected him to, but his face was still scrunching, and he looked like he was trying to say something. Whatever was happening in his dreams, it certainly wasn’t pleasant. 

The door opened behind Stede, but he didn’t take his eyes off Izzy. “Edward?”

“Ah. Not quite. Or at all.” Whatever expression Stede wore made Roach’s grin falter. “Sorry, Captain. I brought the Dragon’s Blood.”

“Have you, um, seen him? Edward?” 

Roach shook his head as he set a small bowl and an armful of bandages on the table beside the bed. “He hasn’t been below deck. Frenchie said he thought he saw him go into Izzy’s room.” 

Stede’s insides squirmed. He’d never been in the first mate’s cabin, but he could imagine Ed curled on his side in Izzy’s bed, surrounded by his belongings, his scent, his presence. Had Ed retreated there so he didn’t have to be near Stede? 

“Right. Thank you,” he said faintly. Much as he wanted to wallow, there was work to be done. He glanced over at Izzy and sat up a little straighter. “Now, how can I help?”

“Hold him up so I can change the bandages. I can’t reach his back like this.” 

Stede frowned. “Won’t that be painful?”

“I dug a bullet out of his side yesterday. It can’t be worse than that.”

“Oh. Good point. How should I…?”

Roach raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure you don’t want me to get Captain Blackbeard?”

“No! That is… I’m quite capable of holding him up.” Ed had made it perfectly clear he didn’t want to be near him, and Stede was hardly going to force him to. 

He perched on the bed, as close to the edge as possible. Izzy might not have done this for him if their positions were reversed, but it was his fault Izzy had been shot in the first place. Carefully, he slid his hands under Izzy’s arms and eased him up. The low, cracked groan that came from Izzy nearly broke his resolve, but he gritted his teeth and forced himself not to let go. 

Roach untucked the end of the bandage and slowly unwound it. The skin underneath was still angry and red, but Stede didn’t know enough to tell whether that was normal or not. He didn’t ask, though, not wanting to interrupt Roach’s work. There was more blood on the strips of cloth than Stede had expected, but none of the stitches had come loose, so Stede could only assume it wasn’t anything to worry about. 

“Is that the Dragon’s Blood, then?” he asked when Roach picked up the bowl he’d set on the table. 

Scooping out some of the vibrant red paste, Roach nodded. “It was in the medicine chest on one of the ships we raided. You never know when you’re going to need it.” 

Stede hadn’t even considered plundering medicine chests, but it made sense, especially given their line of work. He watched as Roach slathered it on top of Izzy’s sutures, spreading a thick layer before reaching for the clean bandages. Izzy grunted when the end was pressed against his side, and Stede’s chest ached. Roach’s movements were efficient as he wrapped and secured the cloth around Izzy’s middle. In all, it took a little more than a quarter of an hour. 

As he eased Izzy down, Stede’s eyes caught on twin scars across his chest. Amid all the chaos, he had barely noticed them before, and he’d done his best not to look any longer than necessary, even while Izzy slept. The man valued his privacy, and Stede could respect that. 

“I wonder what they’re from,” he said quietly, more to himself than Roach.

“Hmm? Oh. It looks like someone cut off his tits.” 

“His… what?”

Roach shot him a speaking glance. “You know, his breasts?” He cupped his own chest in a crude imitation. 

“Why would someone do such a thing?”

“Some people don’t like having them,” Roach said with a shrug. “I’ve done it maybe…half a dozen times?”

Now that he was staring, Stede couldn’t stop. “Doesn’t it hurt?”

“It’s surgery.” Heat flushed across Stede’s cheeks as he realized how stupid his question was. “But not after they heal up, if they have a good surgeon.”

“He certainly seems to have.” 

A wave of something suspiciously close to affection swept through Stede. He knew about the loss of Izzy’s toe, and he suspected there were plenty of other injuries he didn’t know about, but this one was different. Izzy had wanted this. How difficult it must have been for him before. How much pain had he endured in his life, not just physical, but other kinds, as well?

“Check his bandages every few hours,” Roach said, pulling him from his thoughts. “If it starts bleeding, come find me. If there’s green pus, come find me. If there are red streaks away from the stitches—”

“Come find you?” 

“Exactly.” 

“And where exactly will you be?” 

“Sleeping with the livestock—er, non-humans,” Roach said, gathering up the soiled bandages. He left the Dragon’s Blood mixture on the table. “Cover that with a towel. We’ll need it in case he gets worse.” 

Stede nodded, slipping back into the chair beside the bed as Roach left the cabin. Exhaustion weighed heavily in his bones, and he found it increasingly difficult to keep his eyes open. He glanced back at the door, desperately hoping that it would open and Ed would come inside, but it remained closed. Tears pricked at his eyes, but he blinked them away quickly. He couldn’t force Ed to come back, and Stede didn’t want to overstep by seeking him out. If part of him was terrified of what Ed might say, well, that was no one’s business. 

He closed his eyes, unable to keep them open any longer, and his head tilted forward until his chin touched his chest. He jerked back sharply at a noise Stede couldn’t identify, and his neck twinged in pain. The chaise lounge was too far away, and Stede knew he didn’t have the strength to move it by himself, as tired as he was. Sleeping in the chair wasn’t an option, though. He glanced over at the bed. 

Izzy lay still, aside from the occasional small movement. He seemed to take up hardly any space, and Stede eyed the mattress at Izzy’s feet. There was enough room, and according to Roach, there was little chance that Izzy would wake up in the next few hours. A quick nap wouldn’t hurt. Pushing out of the chair, he climbed onto the bed as gently as possible and curled on his side. Izzy didn’t stir, and Stede let out a relieved sigh. The tension in his shoulders eased as his eyes drifted shut, and he finally allowed himself to sleep.

Chapter Text

a dead man at our feet
staring up at us like we’re something interesting - Richard Siken, Wishbone

As much as he didn’t want to, Ed knew he’d have to leave Izzy’s cabin sometime. The crew might be more adept at running a ship, but Izzy was usually on deck to make sure there were no major disasters. A change of clothes wouldn’t hurt, either. He’d tugged his leathers back on and left as soon as Stede had dozed off. It wasn’t sneaking. Blackbeard didn’t sneak. He’d just waited for the most opportune moment to leave without Stede trying to talk to him. 

Actually, yeah, that… that still sounded bad. If he went back to their cabin, though, he knew what would happen. Stede would ask him if he was alright, and Ed knew better than to think he could lie without Stede pushing him on it. He didn’t want to talk about it. Didn’t want to even think about the way his knife had cut through Badminton’s skin like fucking butter or the gurgle he’d made as he dropped to the floor. The fear that had first gripped him first when he thought the bullet would hit Stede and only intensified when he realized Izzy had taken it instead. Bile rose in Ed’s throat as he realized he didn’t even know if Izzy was still alive. He had been when Ed left, but that had been hours ago. Surely someone would have found him if—

No. 

Twisting on the lumpy cot beneath him, Ed pressed his nose into Izzy’s pillow and forced himself to breathe deeply. It smelled of sweat and sea salt and the oil Izzy used on his leather. Underneath, though, was something deeper, a scent that belonged only to Izzy. Ed would know it anywhere. He wrapped his arms around the pillow and maneuvered it until it was almost entirely underneath him, then buried his entire face in it. Izzy would never let him get this close, but if he closed his eyes, he could pretend, just for a few minutes, that he was hugging him. 

He pushed the pillow away and wrenched his eyes open. What the fuck was he doing? It had never been like that between him and Iz. Sure, there’d been the occasional tumble back when they were younger and had spent too long at sea, but hugging? That just wasn’t something they did. It wasn’t something he’d done at all until Stede. 

Ed’s breath caught. Stede. What would he say if he knew what Ed had been thinking about? If he knew that Ed longed to hold his first mate in a way that felt intimate, baring himself in a way he'd only ever done with Stede.

Shoving the blanket to the side, he forced himself to sit, guilt eating away at his stomach. Stede was the one he wanted to hug. Of course he was. Always had been. Nothing had changed there. Stede kissed him awake every morning and held him every night. He touched Ed so gently, like he was something to be treasured, and he called him all sorts of sweet names that Ed didn’t think he’d ever get used to. Some of the tension in his shoulders uncoiled, and he took a slow breath. Whatever that had been with Izzy and the pillow and everything before, it didn’t mean anything. He was worried about his mate. That was all. 

Grabbing his jacket, he headed for the door then stopped. Izzy’d yell at him if he left the bed unmade. He smoothed out the blanket and replaced the pillow against the wall, his staring only for a moment at it before he left the cabin. The bright sun Ed had braced himself for was nowhere to be found. Instead, raindrops landed in his hair and streaked down his jacket. The deck was largely abandoned; Buttons was at the helm, talking quietly to a seagull, and Jim and Oluwande were doing something with the rigging. Of all the crew, Ed trusted them not to fuck anything up. Something was missing, though, and it took a moment for Ed to realize it was Izzy. The need to see him hit Ed all at once like a punch to the gut, and he turned on his heel, making for the captains’ cabin. 

He wasn’t sure what he’d expected to see when he entered, but Stede curled up on the end of the bed like a lapdog sure as hell wasn’t it. Izzy was on his back, the way he’d been when Ed left before. He was still making little jerky movements, and his expression was pained. Glancing over at the desk, Ed found the bottle of laudanum that seemed to have less in it than the last time he’d noticed. Poor Iz. They’d seen enough shit that Ed was surprised he wasn’t screaming from the horror of it. Or maybe he was in his nightmares. 

Stede shifted on the mattress, bringing one hand up to rest against Izzy’s ankle, and Ed froze. He forced himself to breathe as anger surged through him. That was… weird. There was nothing to be angry about. If anything, Stede would be angry at Ed for what he’d done in Izzy’s cabin. All Stede was trying to do was make sure their first mate pulled through. Izzy looked like death on ship’s biscuit, and the dark circles under Stede’s eyes were all the evidence Ed needed that the only sleep he’d got last night was the few minutes he’d dozed off. The few minutes in which Ed had run away to avoid talking about how messed up he felt inside. 

The leather was starting to stick to his skin, so Ed tugged at his buckles and stripped his jacket off. As soon as he did, the acrid stench of dried blood filled his nostrils, and his stomach heaved. He dropped the jacket to the floor and tore at his shirt, nails digging into his skin as he dragged it over his head and flung it as hard as he could. 

“Edward?” Stede’s voice was thick and raspy. 

“‘M fine.” He vaguely remembered saying the same thing the last time he was asked.

Sighing, Stede eased off the bed and took a step toward him. “No you’re not, love.” He didn’t meet Ed’s eyes. “You don’t have to talk about it, but you’re not.” 

Ed stared at his hands, which were still raised in front of him. Stede had been thorough in his cleaning, and not a trace of blood remained, but Ed could still see it, the way it had formed rivers in the creased skin of his knuckles and stained his palms. There’d been a lady in one of Stede’s stories who kept seeing blood on her hands. Ed couldn’t remember what had happened to her. Probably killed herself. It wasn’t one of the ones with a happy ending. 

“Can I give you a hug?” Stede asked quietly. 

Panic prickled along the back of his neck. There was no way Stede could possibly know about what he’d done in Izzy’s cabin, but the words echoed in Ed’s ears, twisting into something mocking. 

“I don’t…”

“Of course.” 

Ed frowned at the bitter note in Stede’s voice. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” 

That sounded an awful lot like Ed’s insistence that he was fine. He wanted to push until Stede answered honestly, but if he did, Stede would expect him to do the same, and he didn’t think he was ready to talk about it. It was all tangled together, and now he’d started feeling other things on top of everything else he’d already been feeling, and everything was too much. 

Stede still wasn’t looking at him. The space between them was only a few steps, but it felt like they were oceans apart, and Ed couldn’t stand it. He’d been so lonely sleeping on the chaise without Stede, and then in Izzy’s small cot, and he’d been pushed out of his own bed for fuck’s sake. Closing the distance, he wrapped his arms around Stede, smearing invisible blood all over the back of his shirt. He clung to him, Stede’s steady heartbeat a sharp contrast to the frantic thumping of his own. 

For a moment, Stede just stood there. Fuck. Stede had been the one to offer, but maybe he’d changed his mind. Maybe he didn’t want to be touched by a man with blood on his hands after all. It was probably best if he—

Warm arms at his back gently drew him closer, and Ed let himself sag against Stede’s chest. He closed his eyes and nuzzled against his neck, lavender and clean linen filling his nostrils. It was so different from Izzy’s musky scent, but it was just as comforting. No, more so because it was Stede, and Stede was the one who comforted him. Not Izzy. He didn’t even want to be comforted by Izzy.

Sure, a small voice inside him whispered. Just like you weren’t jealous when you walked in to find your lover in bed with your best friend.

He gritted his teeth and pushed that thought to the side. It wasn’t jealousy. Ed wasn’t sure what it was, but it wasn’t jealousy because that would be ridiculous. Izzy hated Stede, and whatever Stede felt for Izzy right now was out of some sort of misguided obligation. Probably. Ed didn’t really know why Stede had taken it upon himself to play nursemaid. He’d never cared that much about Izzy before, but then, Izzy’d never almost died before. More than likely, Stede just wanted to make sure Ed didn’t lose a friend. Yeah. That was it. 

When Ed finally pulled away, some of the strain in Stede’s expression had eased, and the corners of his lips were tipped up in a hesitant smile. He looked like he had when he’d boarded The Revenge after his… absence. Hopeful, sad, and more than a little bit guilty. That couldn’t be right, though. What would Stede have to feel guilty about? He hadn’t done anything wrong. If anything, Ed was the one who should look like that, since he’d turned tail and hid in Izzy’s room. Of course, he might look like that, since he couldn’t see his own face, but he didn’t think that was how he looked. 

Talking about all this was out of the question, but Ed didn’t think he could stand how quiet the cabin was otherwise. He pressed a kiss to Stede’s cheek and stepped back, taking his hand instead. Light caught Izzy’s ring, still safe on his finger, but he didn’t let himself stare at it. Stede would ask questions if he did. Instead, Ed cleared his throat. 

“Can you help me find something to wear?” he asked.

The tenderness in Stede’s eyes was almost unbearable. “Of course, dearest.”

Rather than heading into the auxiliary wardrobe, Stede led him over to the one along the cabin wall. He rifled through it before letting out a small, satisfied noise and pulling out Ed’s purple shirt and a pair of black breeches. 

“I think these will do, don’t you?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I think they will.” 

It was no secret that the shirt was Stede’s favorite, and that warmed something in Ed’s chest as he pulled it on, settling it over the black cravat that hardly ever left his neck. Removing his boots and leather trousers was an ordeal, but he let out a contented sigh as he replaced them with silk breeches. 

“Better?” Stede asked. 

“A little bit.” Ed could tell Stede wanted to say something else, so he raised an eyebrow. 

“Your hair. There wasn’t— I didn’t get a chance to wash it yesterday, but I wondered if you might let me brush it for you.” He sounded unsure, and Ed hated whatever he’d done to make Stede feel that way. 

“Yeah, love. I’d like that.” 

Stede brightened, like the sun coming out from behind a cloud, and something constricted in Ed’s chest. “Right. Good. Just… stay there and I’ll be right back.” 

He kept his eyes on Ed all the way to the door that led to the en suite, only looking away when he finally had to shut the door. For the second time since the raid, Izzy and Ed were the only two people in the room. Crossing over to the bed, Ed looked down at him. His face was still pinched. Whatever demons he was facing in his sleep must be bad. Ed reached out before he could think twice about it and brushed the hair from Izzy’s forehead, then smoothed his thumb across his cheek, lingering on the X that marked him as Ed’s.

“Mine,” he whispered. It was probably his imagination, but he would have sworn Izzy’s breathing changed.

The door opened, and Ed jerked his hand back. Stede had returned with a comb and a bottle of oil. He took a seat on the sofa and beckoned for Ed to come closer. Instead of sitting beside him, though, Ed sank down to the floor and nestled back between Stede’s legs. Stede’s hands in his hair felt fantastic, and as he combed and oiled each section, Ed let himself relax. It didn’t change anything or make his feelings any easier to understand, but the familiar touch soothed some of the ache inside him.

Chapter Text

I swear, I end up feeling empty, like you’ve taken something out of me, and I have to search
 my body for the scars - Richard Siken, Wishbone

Swimming upward through the murky depths of sleep felt almost impossible. Every time Izzy thought he’d finally broken through, another wave would drag him under and deposit him in whatever Hell was waiting for him this time. Finally, after an eternity of torment, the waves calmed, allowing him to rise toward the surface.

He awoke in increments, the way he always did. Hearing was the first thing to come back to him—the gentle murmuring of voices, a door closing, footsteps, the scrape of a chair across the floor. Sleep was in no hurry to release him yet, and he lingered in that floaty, in between state, unable to move. No amount of will or determination changed his state. By now, it had become almost familiar. Most of the time, he was forced back down, but there had been a few times he swore he’d come up even more. 

Something warm and soft rested on his forehead as Izzy gradually became more aware of his surroundings. A hand. Someone was beside him. Every instinct told him to reach for his knife, but he couldn’t move, still trapped under the water. His nose twitched as sweat mingled sourly with lavender, the contrast mocking him. Of course Bonnet would smell like a fucking bouquet. Izzy tried to pull away from his touch, clenching his teeth in a desperate attempt to get his muscles to cooperate. They didn’t. Instead, whatever had been holding him down shoved him toward the surface, and he blinked as he finally broke through. 

“Oh!” Bonnet started and jerked his hand back. “I didn’t realize you were awake. Your fever’s almost entirely gone, so I thought it might not be long before you joined us again.” 

Us. 

Edward? 

Izzy flicked his eyes around the room, but Bonnet was the only one there. He was still talking, because of course he was. Izzy wasn’t listening, though, instead searching for any sign that Ed had been in the cabin. There was something hazy in the back of his mind, the feeling of a hand on his cheek and fingers in his hair, but if he tried to focus on the sensation, it blew away like smoke. He couldn’t even tell if it was real or just another laudanum dream.

It didn’t really matter one way or another. Ed wasn’t here. Izzy didn’t know what time it was, but it felt late. Late enough that Ed would ordinarily be getting ready for bed. The same bed where Izzy was currently lying. The same bed he and Stede had fucked. Disgust turned Izzy’s stomach, and he wrinkled his nose. On second thought, maybe he had died. He couldn’t think of a better Hell than being trapped in Bonnet’s bed, lying on sheets that had definitely had jizz on them recently, all while Bonnet played nursemaid. 

“Drink this,” Bonnet said.

The glass against his lips was crystal, and that alone made Izzy want to fling it across the room. Who the fuck kept crystal on a pirate ship when it would fetch a decent price at port? Stede fucking Bonnet. He pressed his lips together mostly out of spite, but there was more to it than that. The water looked clear enough, but he couldn’t trust that it didn’t have any laudanum in it. 

“Israel, you need to drink. I won’t have you dying from dehydration.” 

Spite solidified into proper anger. No one called him that. His mouth was so dry it hurt, but he managed to draw enough saliva onto his tongue that he could spit it at Bonnet. It missed the mark, landing somewhere on the duvet instead, and Izzy cursed inwardly. 

Bonnet’s nose twitched. “Yuck.” Good. The ponce could clean it up himself. He pressed his lips together in a mulish line. “I see your brush with death hasn’t made you any more pleasant. You’re going to drink this if I have to make you. Don’t think I won’t.”

Izzy glared in a silent challenge. He didn’t have it in him. 

“Right. You leave me no choice.” 

Reaching over, Bonnet pinched his nostrils together, cutting off his air. Izzy struggled, but the searing pain in his side kept him from pulling free. His lips parted, and he gasped for breath, dark spots dancing in front of his vision from the sharp throbbing of the stitches. Almost immediately, the glass was back, and he couldn’t stop the liquid from trickling into his mouth and down his throat. He spluttered and coughed, spilling water down his front, but he couldn’t handle the thought of any more laudanum. 

“Stop it! I’m trying to help you, so you could at least be less of an asshole about it.”

“I don’t need your fucking help.” 

Bonnet huffed. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re bedridden, and you need water.” 

“Not if it’s got that shit in it.” He scowled over at the bottle of laudanum on the table beside the bed. 

That seemed to give Bonnet pause, and some of the harshness in his expression eased. “It doesn’t,” he said, his voice far too gentle. Izzy didn’t want his pity. “It’s just water. See?”

Raising the glass to his own lips, Bonnet took a drink. Much as Izzy hated to admit it, he didn’t think Bonnet would drug himself just to make a point. 

“Fine,” he muttered. “I’ll fucking drink it.” 

He didn’t protest as Bonnet held it up again. At least he wasn’t touching the same side Bonnet’s mouth had. The relief was almost immediate, cool liquid soothing his throat. He gulped it down desperately, each swallow less painful than the last. When the glass was pulled away, Izzy tried to follow it, but Bonnet pushed him back down, his hand splayed across Izzy’s chest. 

“More.” 

If he hadn’t been bedridden, Izzy would have skewered Bonnet for the bloody smirk on his face. “Awfully greedy for a man who didn’t want any a moment ago.” 

“A moment ago, I thought you were trying to knock me out, now didn’t I?”

Bonnet hesitated, then cocked his head to the side. “Alright, I suppose you’ve got a point.”

“Swear you won’t give me any more of it.”

“I—”

“Fucking swear, Bonnet. I got shot for you. The least you can do is give me this.”

So many emotions passed across Bonnet’s face that Izzy couldn’t pick them apart, and something ridiculously close to guilt twisted in his stomach. Or maybe he’d drunk too fast. 

“I know what you did, Israel.” His voice was shakier than Izzy had ever heard it. It sounded… wrong.

Sighing, Izzy leaned his head back against the ridiculously soft pillows. “I didn’t mean—”

“Yes you did.” The words were like daggers, but Izzy could handle that. He could live with Bonnet’s anger. “I don’t know why you pushed me out of the way, but if you’re going to hold it over my head, you should have just let it hit me.” 

Izzy turned his face toward the window. That wasn’t even an option. Edward needed Bonnet. Sure, he probably would have mourned Izzy, but he would have gotten over it eventually. Izzy had seen what happened when Edward tried to get over Bonnet, and he would do everything to make sure it never happened again. 

“No more laudanum,” he said quietly. “Please.” 

The word rankled, but Bonnet liked manners, and it was worth it if it meant he didn’t have to deal with the dreams again.

“Alright.” Beside him, there was a scrape of something heavy against wood, then a trickle of water. “Do you think you can hold it yourself?” 

He looked back over to find the glass refilled. The less Bonnet had to do for him, the better. “Think so.” 

It was heavier than he thought it was going to be, and the water rippled as his hand shook, but Izzy managed to drink most of it before handing it back. He wrinkled his nose as the wet bandage tugged his skin with the movement. Spitting water down his front might not have been the best decision. He ran his fingers along the top edge of the bandage and found it soaked almost completely through. 

“I’ll need to change those,” Bonnet said. “And the sheets.” 

“You could move me back to my own room.”

“How exactly would you get there? I can carry you to the chaise to change the sheets, but I suspect you wouldn’t want the rest of the crew to see me holding you.” 

Damn, he had a point.

“Fine. Just fucking do it.” 

Izzy didn’t know what he expected, but Bonnet gently scooping him up like he was some blushing bride wasn’t it. He spluttered wordlessly, unable to do anything else as Bonnet carried him over to the chaise and eased him down. It smelled like Edward, and Izzy fought the urge to bury his face in the fabric. The scent wasn’t strong, but it was enough for Izzy to relax while Bonnet moved behind him. 

How long had it been since Ed had been here? He didn’t even know how long he’d been out. At least a day, maybe two. It was obvious Bonnet had slept in the chair next to the bed, so where had Ed slept? Where was he now, and why wasn’t he here? 

“That’s the bed sorted. Now, let’s see to that bandage,” Bonnet said, walking over. He paused and looked at Izzy like he was trying to assess him for something.

“What?” Izzy pressed. 

“Well, it’s only… I’m sure you’d feel a lot better if you had a bath.”

Was he fucking serious? “Oh sure, let me just fill the tub and climb right in.” 

Bonnet rolled his eyes. Twat. “There’s no need to be dramatic. I thought I might give you a sponge bath.”

“No.” 

It was bad enough that Izzy was down to his smalls in front of Bonnet. He was acutely aware of the burns down his arm and hand and the scars on his chest, even though Bonnet didn’t seem to notice them. That in itself was odd, since he always noticed things that were absolutely none of his business. The thought of Bonnet touching him was almost unbearable. But then, so was the dried sweat on his skin, and the last time he’d gone days without at least giving himself a quick sluice, he felt like his bits were on fire, especially when he pissed. Why did it have to be Bonnet, though? 

“It’s really no trouble, if th—”

“Why can’t Ed do it?” 

Izzy swore Bonnet flinched, and he looked down at the floor instead of over at the chaise. “He’s um… he’s taking this watch.”

The lie was a flimsy one, but Izzy didn’t call him on it. He didn’t think he was ready to hear why Ed hadn’t been the one to take care of him while he slept. 

“Whatever. Get it over with.”

Bonnet nodded and walked away, no doubt gathering everything he’d need. Frilly soaps and ridiculous oils that Izzy didn’t want. He wanted Ed. That didn’t matter, though, because Ed had fucked off somewhere. Didn’t even care enough to check on him. He’d always known he was expendable, but he’d sailed at Ed’s side for over twenty-five years. Long before Blackbeard had existed. That had to count for something. He wore Ed’s ring at his neck. 

Fuck.

The ring. 

Izzy knew his clothes were probably a loss, especially his shirt, but had anyone kept his ring safe? He’d been wearing it for almost three decades. The thought of losing it…

“Something wrong?” Bonnet asked, setting down a bowl and a jug that was somehow steaming.

“Where are my clothes?”

“You’re not getting dressed after this.” 

“Didn’t ask to. Where are they?”

Bonnet gave him a stern look and poured some water into the bowl, wetting the cloth inside it. “I don’t know. Your shirt and vest were ruined. The rest of your things are somewhere, I’m sure.”

“Of course they’re fucking somewhere. They didn’t disappear into thin air. This isn’t one of your fucking fairy stories.”

The stern look turned into a scowl, but Bonnet’s touch was surprisingly gentle as he began to unwind the bandage, using the dip in the chaise to thread the strip underneath his back. “I’m aware, and if I knew where they were, I would tell you.”

Izzy gritted his teeth as the last of the dressing came away from his skin. “There was a ring.”

“Oh! Yes. Edward has it, I believe.”

His shoulders slumped back against the chaise in relief. Ed would keep it safe. 

At the first brush of wet rag against his skin, Izzy tensed again. He expected to smell the overpowering lavender of the soap Ed loved so much, but whatever Bonnet was using had a much milder scent. It didn’t smell like anything, really. 

“I thought the lavender might be too strong,” Bonnet said conversationally. How the fuck had he known what Izzy was thinking? “Oatmeal seemed like a better choice.”

“It’s… fine.” He wasn’t going to give Bonnet the satisfaction of knowing it was better than fine. Nice, even. Nicer than any of the soaps he’d ever used. 

Bonnet washed him carefully, and Izzy was tempted to close his eyes and give in to the sensation. The thought of being so vulnerable was terrifying, though, so he kept them open, trained on Bonnet’s hand working steadily across his chest. Every movement was perfunctory. He didn’t linger at the scars, didn’t stare anywhere he shouldn’t. Mercifully, he didn’t even try to talk. Instead, he lathered up Izzy’s arms, chest, and belly—carefully avoiding the line of stitches—then rinsed them thoroughly, leaving no trace of soap or sweat. 

Izzy allowed himself to be maneuvered so Bonnet could wash his back, but when he was leaned against the sofa again, he grabbed Bonnet by the wrist. 

“Just do my legs. I can handle the rest.” Not that he really wanted his feet washed, but at least that would be less violating. 

“Are you sure?” 

“I’m not a fucking child,” he snapped.

Sighing, Bonnet started soaping up his calves. “I didn’t say you were. I was only asking because… well.” Was that a fucking blush? “I’d rather you not pull your stitches. Roach wouldn’t be very happy with me, and he’s quite terrifying with a cleaver.”

“I won’t pull my stitches.”

The pink that warmed Bonnet’s cheeks was quickly growing darker. “I— That is— It’s a bit of a different angle, isn’t it?”

Panic flooded Izzy’s veins. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He knew. Bonnet knew and he hadn’t said a word. Hadn’t treated him any differently—well, not any differently than he already was. Izzy wasn’t sure if he was relieved or horrified. It wasn’t like he was ashamed, or anything. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt shame in that regard. But he could count on his maimed foot the number of people besides him who knew and were still alive. The others… They deserved what they’d got.

Rather than the argument Izzy expected, Bonnet nodded and finished washing his legs before handing him the cloth. “I’ll um… Right.”

Bonnet collected the water jug and soap, carrying them through the not-so secret door that led to the en suite. As soon as he was gone, Izzy untied his small clothes and washed quickly, scrubbing at the inside of his thighs, across his mound, and between his folds. He dropped the cloth in the bowl next to him, then righted his clothes before Bonnet came back into the room. 

“All finished?”

“Yes.” Izzy didn’t meet his eyes. 

“Good. Let me help you back to bed.”

It wouldn’t do any good to protest, so Izzy held his arms up and let Bonnet carry him, only relaxing once his back hit the mattress. He even allowed Bonnet to prop him up as he replaced the wrapping around his middle. Izzy couldn’t deny that he felt better, though he would if anyone asked. 

The whole process of moving and bathing had drained his energy, and Izzy felt himself drifting back toward sleep. It didn’t scare him. Not this time. There were no waves threatening to drag him back under, just the slow spread of exhaustion through his body. He closed his eyes, feeling himself sink, but something nagged at the back of his mind. 

“Bonnet.”

“Hmm?”

He hesitated. “Thank you.”

From beside him came a sharp inhale. “Oh. You’re welcome.” A moment passed, and Bonnet continued, “Ed will come see you. When he knows you’re awake, he’ll be here.”

Izzy was too far under to tell him that Ed should have been here all along.

Chapter Text

you can indulge me
this at least, can’t you? but we both know how it goes - Richard Siken, Wishbone

Since his return to The Revenge almost a year earlier, Stede had come to a tentative, unspoken arrangement with Izzy. He stayed out of Izzy’s way and allowed the first mate to teach his crew how to be an actual crew; in return, Izzy didn’t try to kill him or come between him and Edward again. There had been a bit of give and take in the early months, with Stede learning the more practical parts of being a pirate captain and Izzy working to reduce the number of times he threatened anyone on a given day. Stede liked to think they’d formed a sort of mutual respect, even if they had their occasional spats. After all, despite his prickly exterior, Izzy was hardworking, knowledgeable, and unwaveringly loyal to Edward.

He was also the worst patient Stede had ever attempted to care for. 

Stede had hoped the way Izzy accepted help the day before was a good sign, especially since he’d expected far more backlash than he got. Sure, Izzy had tried to spit on him, but compared to being stabbed, that was nothing. Between the nightmares and being stuck in the captains’ cabin, it was only natural for Izzy to lash out. He hadn’t had any laudanum the night before, though, so Stede was fairly confident Izzy would be in somewhat better spirits come morning. If there was one thing Stede possessed, though, it was an overabundance of confidence and optimism. 

A hard shove woke him from an uneasy sleep. Opening his eyes, he found a foot against his shoulder. The foot flexed again, but this time he shrugged it off. 

“May I help you?” he asked, stifling a yawn. 

“Need to piss.” 

“Oh. Erm…I don’t—”

“Is there not a fucking bedpan on this useless fucking ship?” Izzy snarled.

Stede bristled in response, but he tried to tamp it down. He refused to give Izzy the satisfaction. “I’m sure Roach left one in here somewhere.” 

He’d allowed the Roach to handle the more private matters of Izzy’s care until now, but the crew needed to eat, and he was perfectly capable of tending to Izzy himself. At least, he thought he was. 

Finding the bedpan was relatively easy. It had been placed on the lower shelf of the table Stede had moved beside the desk three days earlier. He picked it up and carried it over to the bed, then paused, uncertain what to do next. 

“I’m supposed to piss in that?” Izzy asked. He was staring at the pot with something close to disdain, though Stede didn’t understand why. 

“Is there a problem with it? Mary used one almost exactly like it after our children were born, and Roach didn’t mention having any difficulty—”

“Not—fuck’s sake—not because of that. It looks like it’s supposed to be on a bloody dinner table.”

Stede looked at it and frowned. Delicate flowers were painted around the bowl of the glazed pot, but aside from that, it was just a normal bedpan. He, himself, had used a similar one the few occasions he’d been too ill or injured to make it to the water closet. 

“It most certainly does not. Even if it did, you’ve been using it perfectly well the last few days, and seeing as there’s no other option, you’ll have to make do.”

“Fine. Give it here.” Izzy held out his hand. 

“I’m not sure you should be moving quite as much as you have been. The last thing we need is for you to irritate the stitches.”

Izzy’s glare could have frozen the very ocean beneath them. “Do you want to watch, Bonnet?”

Heat flooded Stede’s cheeks. “No! Don’t be absurd. I merely wanted to keep you from straining any more than necessary.”

He handed the bedpan over before Izzy could respond and turned away to prove his point. In all the time they’d been acquainted, the closest he’d seen Izzy to a state of undress was when the man had removed his vest one afternoon after hours of sword fighting lessons. Seeing him in his small clothes had been simultaneously awkward and intriguing. His chest and arms were hairier than Stede expected, and he’d been mildly disappointed that no secret tattoos had been revealed. The real surprise was how sturdy Izzy was. Stede knew the value of properly tailored clothing, and this was a prime example. Izzy’s clothes swallowed him, making him look far smaller than he actually was, when in reality, his body was… well, it was quite appealing.

“You can turn back now.” 

Stede gave himself a little shake. There was no reason for him to find Izzy appealing, not in the slightest. What would Ed say if he knew? That alone was enough for Stede to push the thought away. 

The bedpan had been set on the table beside the mattress, and Izzy had tugged the duvet up to his chest. Retrieving the pot, Stede put it back where he’d found it. He straightened as the door opened and Lucius entered, carrying a breakfast tray. 

“Morning, Captain.” Crossing the room, Lucius set the tray down where the bedpan had just been. Stede didn’t bother to mention it, especially when Lucius’s expression was already dangerously close to taunting.

“I thought Roach was going to come up,” he said.

“I offered. Had to see for myself that you were still alive, Iggy.”

Izzy glowered. “You’re not that lucky.”

Raking his gaze up and down Izzy’s body, Lucius smirked. “I don’t know, I’m feeling pretty lucky right now.” 

Something ugly and bitter twisted in Stede’s stomach. “Right, well. Thank you for delivering breakfast, and tell Roach we appreciate the cooking.” 

“Are you sure you don’t—”

“That will be all.” The words came out harsher than he intended, and Lucius raised his eyebrows. 

“Yeah. That— Okay, yeah. I’ll just um…” Turning on his heel, he walked out of the room, mumbling something Stede was fairly sure he didn’t want to hear. 

“What the fuck was that about?” Izzy asked. 

There was no way he could answer honestly, in part because he had no idea. If he didn’t know better, he’d almost say he’d been jealous of Lucius. That was absolutely ridiculous, though. 

“You’ve been encouraging me to take a more direct approach with the crew. I thought you’d appreciate it,” he said petulantly. 

Izzy was quiet for a moment before saying, “Doesn’t sound right coming from you.”

Stede didn’t bother responding. Instead, he grabbed the orange from the breakfast tray and began to peel it, the fresh scent filling the air. Once he’d scraped away as much pith as he could, he pulled a segment free and held it to Izzy’s lips. When Izzy didn’t immediately take it, he put his free hand on his hip. 

“Israel.”

As soon as Izzy opened his mouth, Stede pushed the fruit inside. He moved to pull his fingers free, but Izzy was faster, biting down on the tips hard enough to leave a mark but not enough to bleed. 

“I—” Clearing his throat, he tried again, ignoring the direction his thoughts threatened to take. “I would appreciate it if you let go.”

Izzy’s expression was murderous, but he allowed Stede to pull his hand away. “Shouldn’t have put them in my mouth. I can feed myself.”

“I was just—”

“So help me, Bonnet, if you say you were just trying to help, I’m going to stab you with that spoon.” 

Stede looked over at the breakfast tray, where the spoon in question rested beside a bowl of porridge. “You’ve already stabbed me once. I can’t say I’m eager for you to do it again.” 

“Then let me eat my fucking breakfast in peace.” 

“Fine.” 

Taking a roll, he sat back in his chair and tore off a chunk, then popped it in his mouth. The spread was nothing like what he was used to, but Izzy wasn’t up for a large meal, and Stede didn’t want to give Izzy more opportunities to mock him than necessary. They ate in silence, Izzy finishing his porridge while Stede took the eggs Roach had sent. 

“I’m sure Ed will be pleased that you’re awake,” Stede said, placing his empty plate back on the tray. 

Izzy stared at him, his brows drawn together. “Where is he, then? You two always have breakfast together.” 

He sounded almost accusing, and Stede looked away. “Eating with the rest of the crew, I’d say. Or, um, sleeping?”

“You have no idea, do you?”

Letting out a slow sigh, he shook his head. “He’s been avoiding me.”

“Not fucking hard when you spend all your time in here.” 

“I don’t,” Stede said. “I’ve looked for him when you’re asleep, and some when you were unconscious. The last time I saw him was yesterday morning.”

“And before that?” 

The ache that had settled in Stede’s chest over the past few days grew sharper. “The day of the raid.”

“Fuck.” Izzy muttered.

Tears pricked at Stede’s eyes, but he blinked them back and scrubbed a hand across his face. “I understand why he doesn’t want to see me, but that doesn’t make it any less painful. Yesterday, he seemed… I thought… He let me brush his hair. I thought perhaps that meant he wasn’t angry with me anymore.” 

“What the fuck are you on about?” 

Stede couldn’t bring himself to look at Izzy. “I’m the reason you were shot. If you hadn’t pushed me out of the way, Reginald would have hit me. He should have hit me.”

Risking a glance up, he found Izzy staring at him incredulously. “Every time I think you can’t be a bigger idiot, you find a way to prove me wrong.”

“Excuse y—”

“He’s not mad at you for not getting shot. He’s spiraling cause he killed someone.”

A chill ran through Stede’s veins. “What?”

“Edward killed Badminton. Sliced the fucker’s throat on the quarterdeck.” 

The room spun as Stede tried to suck in a breath. No, that wasn’t… How had he not seen? He didn’t think he could have missed something like that. Except he’d been taking care of Izzy, pressing his cravat against his side to stop the blood from gushing out of him. Begging him to keep his eyes open. Promising him he was going to be alright.

Stede choked back a sob. “Oh my god.” 

“He doesn’t want you to see him like this. Thinks you’ll be disgusted.” Izzy huffed. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this.”

Except they both knew. Stede was the only one who could help. The only one Ed might find comfort in. He remembered the way Ed had clung to him yesterday, holding him like he thought Stede would disappear. 

You were always gonna realize what I am.

Did Ed really believe Stede would think less of him for what he’d done? 

“I have to find him,” he whispered. “Are you—”

“I’m fine, Bonnet. Just…” Izzy hesitated. “Never mind. Go.” 

Much as Stede wanted to press, now wasn’t the time. Edward needed him. 

Chapter Text

But I can’t look at him, can hardly speak - Richard Siken, Wishbone

The glow of the lantern flickered as Ed stared into it, trying to make out shapes in the ever-changing patterns on the glass. He didn’t know how long he’d been staring. It could have been a few minutes or a few hours. There was something almost hypnotic about watching the orange and black swirls shift and warp, and it was better than letting his thoughts roam free. If he did that, he’d end up where he had been for the last three days. But then, as soon as he stopped looking at the lantern, he’d probably find himself back there anyway, the sharp memories from the raid shredding what was left of his sanity. 

A knock at the door barely registered, but Ed didn’t move to answer it. If it was urgent, the crew could go to Stede. Not that Stede would know what to do, but at least they wouldn’t be bothering him. When he’d been on the Queen Anne, right before he’d met Stede, Ed hadn’t even needed to leave the cabin more than a few times a week. Maybe a couple more than that if they were running down a ship, but for the most part, the crew had known what to do. 

That’s because they had Izzy, the unhelpful part of his mind pointed out. 

“Fuck off,” he muttered. 

“No, I don’t think I will.”

Ed twisted to find Stede standing in the doorway, and he froze like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t. “Wasn’t talking to you,” he said. 

“I know. You didn’t even hear me come in.” Stede closed the door behind him and leaned against it. He looked like he wanted to say something more, and Ed wasn’t in any rush to fill the silence, so he let it hang there until Stede continued, “Izzy’s awake. I thought you’d want to know that.” 

Turning back to the lantern, Ed tightened his arms around the pillow pressed against his front. “Yeah, thanks.” 

Pushing away from the door, Stede took a step toward him, and Ed dug his fingers into the fabric beneath them. “Do you not want to go see him?”

Of course he did. He wanted to curl up on the mattress like Stede had and never leave. That was his place. It had been his place for over twenty-five years. But Stede had slipped in and taken it without even trying, and Ed hadn’t even tried to fight for it. He’d been too busy fighting his own mind that stained his hands with blood and filled his ears with the sounds of a dying man. Not that Ed regretted killing Badminton. He’d kill every Badminton in the world if it meant keeping Izzy safe. And Stede. The bullet had been meant for him, after all. 

“I…”

Stede closed the space between them and sat down beside Ed on the mattress. “Edward.” The word was too gentle. “I’m so sorry, love. I didn’t know.” 

Ed’s breath hitched. He’d been so careful the day before, never looking at Izzy for too long, allowing Stede to hold him and brush his hair. And he’d wanted Stede to do those things. Wanted the comfort and the love and the tenderness that Izzy would never be able to give him. He thought it had worked, too. Stede hadn’t said anything, and the way he’d taken care of Izzy hadn’t changed, so everything was alright. Except it wasn’t, because Stede knew now. He didn’t sound angry about it, which would have been a relief if not for the devastation on his face. 

“Izzy was bleeding, and I was trying to save him, and— I didn’t see,” he continued.

Whatever Ed planned on saying, whatever excuse he was going to attempt, died as he tried to figure out how the conversation had turned so sharply when Stede was the only one saying anything. 

“What didn’t you see?” he asked carefully.

“You. On the merchant ship, I didn’t see you on the quarterdeck. After Izzy was shot.” Stede’s eyes glistened in the lantern light, and Ed ached to pull him closer. Instead, he clutched the pillow and waited for him to continue. “I didn’t— Izzy saw you. He told me that you…”

“That I killed Badminton,” he finished. 

Stede nodded. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

“Not much to say,” Ed said with a shrug. “He shot Izzy, so I sliced his throat open. Seems like an even trade.” 

“And you’re not upset about it?”

“‘Course not.”

“Then why are you shaking?” Stede asked, resting his hand on Ed’s atop the pillow.

He hadn’t even realized he had been. “I… What do you want me to say, Stede? I killed a man and I didn’t even think twice about it. Sure, yeah, people have died in the past because of me, but other than my dad, I haven’t— I don’t— I could have let one of the crew kill him, but I wanted it to be me. I needed it to be me because he’d hurt m—”

“Hurt what, Ed?”

“My first mate.” There was no way Ed was going to tell Stede he’d almost said ‘my Izzy.’

But Izzy was his and had been for almost three decades. Hell, Ed had marked him the same way Spanish Jackie had branded her husbands. Nope. Now wasn’t the time to follow that thought. 

“I’d say you had a pretty good reason to want Badminton dead, then,” Stede said, pulling him back to the current conversation. 

“Never said I didn’t want him dead. I just… Izzy’s been hurt before. He’s been stabbed and burned and broken bones, and I’ve never wanted to kill anyone over it.”

Resting his head against Ed’s shoulder, Stede let out a sigh. “They took so much from us, the Badmintons, and all they gave in return is fear and hurt. Chauncy tried to take me away from you, and Reginald almost took Izzy.” 

“And you,” Ed said quietly. “He would have. If Izzy hadn’t pushed you out of the way.” 

Stede tensed and pulled his hand back. “I know that. Izzy said you’re not upset that he was the one who got shot and not me, but—”

“No.” He reached out to grab Stede’s wrist, nearly dropping the pillow. “I know what you’re thinking. It isn’t like that.”

“Then what is it like? Help me understand.”

“That’s the problem. It’s all twisted in my head and I can’t make any sense of it, and there’s blood on my hands that isn’t even there, and I can still hear him dying, and I can’t even give Izzy a fucking hug—” Ah, fuck. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean…”

Turning on the bed, Stede reached up with his free hand to cup Ed’s cheek. “I think you did. You and Izzy have such a history. He’s killed for you so many times, hasn’t he?”

Ed nodded. It was an honor for Izzy. He’d told Ed as much more than once.

“And now the tables have turned, so to speak,” Stede continued. “You aren’t a bad person for it. Reginald isn’t dead because of you any more than Chauncy is dead because of me. They made their choices. As soon as I saw Reg, I knew either we’d die or he would. Between the two of us, I’m rather glad it was him.”

“Me too. Just wish I hadn’t been the one to do it.” He paused. “That’s not really true though, either.”

“You feel like you should have felt worse at the time?” Stede suggested.

“Maybe? I don’t know. I don’t really know what I feel.”

Stede hummed in thought. “You know those moods you sometimes go into after a raid?” Something in Ed’s expression must have shown, because he laughed softly. “Not those moods. The ones where you ask me to hold you for a while.”

“Oh. Yeah.”

“I think you might be feeling like that right now, but toward Izzy.”

Ed’s eyes widened. “No, mate, that’s not— We don’t—” 

“But you want to.” How the hell could Stede sound so unrelenting and kind at the same time?

Settling his chin on the pillow, Ed took a deep breath. It hardly smelled like Izzy anymore, but there was still something comforting about it. Just knowing it was his was enough. 

“Me and Iz, we’ve been doing this for over twenty-five years, and I can’t even give him a fucking hug.” He looked down and realized he’d released Stede’s wrist to hold the pillow close again. “Izzy was in the navy before we met. Started as a cabin boy. Disguised himself like Jim did so no one would find out, even after he became a pirate. About a month after he joined my crew, he got stabbed and wouldn’t let anyone patch him up. I told him either he let me help him or I’d drag him down to the infirmary, myself. Wasn’t until I took his shirt off that I realized why.” 

Ed didn’t think he’d ever forget the fear and humiliation on Izzy’s face, the way he’d trembled under his touch and avoided Ed’s eyes.

“He tried to leave afterward. Not just the cabin. Tried to leave the ship. Said he knew I wouldn’t want him there now that I knew, which was complete bollocks. I asked him what he wanted—it wasn’t so hard for us to talk back then—and we set sail for Port Royal the next day. We found an apothecary who knew what she was doing, and she gave him some kind of salve to use every month and told us where to find a surgeon who’d be discreet. I took care of him, after. Made sure he didn’t try to do anything stupid like climb the rigging or practice his sword work. Took care of him every time after, too. Until now.” The last two words were so soft, he wondered if Stede even heard them.

“You care about him a great deal.” It wasn’t a question.

“‘Course I do. He’s my first mate.” 

Stede plucked at the corner of the pillow in Ed’s arms. “I think he’s more than that, Ed.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he asked, his breath coming faster. 

“I mean you hid in his cabin—”

“—wasn’t hiding—”

“—you’ve tended to his injuries for years—”

“—who else would?—”

“—you’re holding his pillow in place of him.”

Ed’s blood ran cold. “Wait, no. You… you’ve got it all wrong. Yeah, I want to give him a hug, but that’s… You make it sound…”

“Like you love him?” Stede finished. 

“I love you,” Ed said over the ringing in his ears. 

Stede wrapped an arm around him and tugged him closer, slotting him against his side. “I don’t doubt that, my dear. Just as I hope you don’t doubt my love for you.”

He had, in the beginning. The first few weeks Stede had returned to The Revenge had been hard. He’d locked Stede out of the cabin for five days, only to drag him in every few hours to shout or cry or both. Even after things had calmed down and they’d resumed their relationship as partners and co-captains, there was the infrequent nightmare where Ed was left alone again. Stede always cradled him close and whispered reassurances in his ear, or fucked him into the mattress, depending on what he needed.

“I know you do,” he said, his own arm sliding across Stede’s front, trapping the pillow between them. 

“Good.” Stede pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “I won’t put a label on what you’re feeling toward him. Only you can do that. But Edward, he’s been in our cabin for three days, and you’ve only been to see him once. You haven’t seen him at all since he woke up.” 

Like Ed wasn’t acutely aware of that fact. 

“Go to him. He won’t admit it, but he’s hurting. He needs to know you still care about him.” 

Ed hesitated. “Are you going to come with me?”

“No,” Stede said, pulling gently away. “You two need some time alone, and it’ll be good for me to check up on the rest of the crew.”

The thought of being alone with Izzy was unsettling, but Stede had a point. Izzy needed to know he was still Ed’s, and Ed needed to see Izzy looking less like a corpse than the last time he’d seen him.

“I’ll come find you after, yeah?” 

“Of course.” Stede nudged his shoulder. “Go on. Don’t keep him waiting.”

Chapter Text

There’s only one thing I want, don’t make me say it, just get me bandages, I’m bleeding,
 I’m not just making conversation. - Richard Siken, Wishbone

Izzy had thought that once Bonnet left, he would feel more comfortable in the captains’ cabin. As first mate, it was impossible to avoid the room altogether, but since Bonnet had returned to the ship, Izzy had done his best to spend as little time here as possible, and he’d never been alone. Now, he had no choice but to look around the room, his traitorous brain refusing to let him sleep. 

The space had almost returned to the way it was before, filled with expensive looking, impractical things. Izzy remembered where most of it came from, mostly merchant vessels with the occasional party ship. Bonnet seemed particularly pleased with himself every time they raided one of those, and something in Ed’s manner always changed, too. His eyes lit up with mischief, and there was a gleefulness to him that Izzy was almost certain didn’t have anything to do with the loot. 

While Ed and Bonnet discussed the quality of the settee or picked out place settings like a courting couple before their wedding, Izzy had been the one to direct the rest of the crew. What hadn’t ended up in the captains’ quarters had fetched a good price, he had to admit. If there was one thing Bonnet knew, it was how much posh twats would pay for nice shit. 

Bonnet had paid for all the nice shit that had been in his cabin before. Izzy didn’t even want to think about how much it had cost. How much coin they could have got from all the things that had ended up in this room instead of the hold after every raid. Even the sheets would have fetched a pretty penny, but no, Bonnet wouldn’t be caught dead sleeping on anything but silk. Izzy wrinkled his nose at the thought of everything else Bonnet—and Ed—had done on these sheets. The thought of staying in their bed any longer was revolting, no matter how comfortable it was. 

Shoving the duvet off, he shifted his legs, wincing as pain spiked across his side. His stomach heaved, threatening to expel the contents of his breakfast, but he swallowed down the nausea. The last thing he needed was for his humiliating nickname to resurface. If he could just make it across the room to the chaise, he would be fine. One foot brushed against the floor. Almost there. Just a little further. 

The world upended, and he bit down hard on his lip to keep from screaming, the coppery tang of blood hitting his tongue. Every part of him hurt, but his stitches were the worst. Glancing down, he swore as the dark red patch on the bandage spread outward. 

“Izzy?” Edward stood over him, looking concerned. “What the fuck, Iz?”

His lips twitched in a tiny smile, even as he ground his teeth together. “The fuck’s it look like? I fell out of bed.” 

A comforting arm slid behind his back, another under his knees. “Really? Cause what it looks like is that you were trying to stand up three days after you got shot.” His voice was teasing, and Izzy leaned against him, pressing his nose against the warm column of Ed’s neck. “Can’t leave you alone for five minutes, I swear.”

Izzy knew better than to think Ed meant it to hurt, but it did all the same. “Bit more than five minutes,” he muttered. 

Easing him back down onto the mattress, Ed sighed. He didn’t pull away immediately, though, almost like he didn’t want to. That… no. The pain was making him delirious. Ed was just making sure he wasn’t going to fall again. 

“You’re right,” Ed said and pulled at the end of Izzy’s bandage. Sitting upright was almost agonizing, but Izzy did it anyway. “Shouldn’t have done that. I know you don’t like other people taking care of you.” 

Izzy shrugged. “Took care of myself just fine last time.” It was only a little satisfying to see Ed flinch like he’d been slapped. “I didn’t mean—”

“Yeah you did,” Ed said quietly. His movements didn’t falter, though, as he continued to unwrap the dressing. “I don’t blame you for saying it, either. Wasn’t exactly in a great headspace, but that doesn’t make it right.”

“You were only like that because of me.” They each played their role in what had happened, and Izzy wasn’t going to deny his. He could wait until Ed left to allow his anger to overtake him. Neither of them needed that right now. 

Ed snorted humorlessly. “You think you made me do that? Nah, mate. I fed you your own toe because I wanted to put you in your place. The whole ‘put another toe out of line’ thing.” 

“I wasn’t the first one you’d done that to,” he said automatically.

“But you’re my first mate! You’re my—” Ed swallowed, and when he spoke, the words were soft. “You’re my friend, Izzy.” 

“Don’t.” He couldn’t do this. “Just get my fucking bandage off and tell me if Roach needs to come sew me back up.”

Rather than saying anything in response, Ed unwound the cloth from around Izzy’s middle. When it finally pulled away, he hissed. “Not as bad as I thought it’d be, but it looks like you popped a couple. I’ll take care of it.” 

“You have a medicine chest in here?” 

“Nah, but Stede keeps a needle and thread on hand, just in case.” What the fuck did they get up to in bed? Ed grinned and ducked his head, apparently reading the question on his face. “Not like that. Roach and Frenchie can only sew up so many people at a time after a raid. It’s easier just to do it myself.”

He walked over to Stede’s writing desk and rummaged in a drawer while Izzy tried to steady his breathing. Why the fuck had he even brought up the toe thing? He’d wanted Edward here, and now that he was, Izzy had to go and fuck it up by talking about something that didn’t even bother him that much anymore. Not outside his dreams, anyway. 

Ed returned shortly with the necessary supplies, scooting the chair Stede had left closer to the bed. He poked his tongue out as he concentrated on threading the needle, and Izzy allowed himself to stare just for a moment. It had taken some time to get used to his clean-shaven face, but Izzy didn’t hate it. The only drawback was how much more distracting Ed was than before, now that his sharp jawline and soft lips were on display.

“What were you trying to get out of bed for, anyway?” Ed asked casually. 

Izzy looked down where the needle hovered over his skin. He hissed as it pushed through but managed to stay still. He’d had worse. “Didn’t want to stay in it anymore,” he said. 

“Yes, and I’m asking why. You usually wait a few days before I have to threaten to tie you to the bed.” 

His stomach clenched at the words, and he forced himself to relax, hoping Ed mistook it for pain. Times like this made him almost glad he didn’t have a standard issue cock. At least this way, he didn’t have to worry about it betraying how aroused the thought of being tied down made him. Tied down in the same bed Bonnet and Ed fucked. That should have been enough to turn him off, but instead it just left him confused.

“It’s…” Heat flushed his cheeks, this time from embarrassment. “It’s not my bed. I don’t belong in it. Not when… not when you and him…” 

“Iz,” Ed said carefully, “do you want to leave because Stede and I—”

“Don’t say it.” Izzy didn’t think he could handle it if Ed did. 

Rather than responding immediately, Ed continued stitching. Each thrust of the needle into his skin burned, but Izzy didn’t complain. It had been stupid to think he could actually stand up after being shot and spending two days unconscious. 

“I’m not going to apologize for it,” Ed said eventually, “but I understand why you wouldn’t want to sleep here. If it helps, we put down fresh sheets.”

“Not really. Better than the alternative, I suppose.” He refused to give that any more thought. 

“Stede… he wanted you to be comfortable. Said this was the best place to bring you.”

Izzy wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Bonnet probably felt guilty, that was all. He didn’t really care if Izzy was comfortable or not. Never had. 

“I’m glad he did,” Ed continued. “Glad he took care of you, even though it should have been me.”

There was a sharpness in Ed’s voice that took Izzy by surprise. If he didn’t know any better, he’d almost say it was jealousy, but he did know better. Ed didn’t get jealous. Not when it came to him. 

“Yeah, well, I could have had a more useless caretaker,” Izzy said, attempting to lighten the mood. “Could have been Buttons. He’d probably try to heal me using moon magic or something equally as ridiculous.”

“Or the Swede. I don’t even think he’d try moon magic, honestly.” 

Izzy’s laughter caught in his throat as Ed leaned forward, long hair grazing his side. Goosepimples pebbled his skin as Ed bit through the thread, his warm lips lingering. Closing his eyes, Izzy allowed himself to imagine, just for a moment, that Ed was kissing the line of stitches, proof of Izzy’s devotion to his captain.

And then it was over. 

Ed pulled away and set the needle to the side. “Let me get you bandaged back up.”

“You don’t need to. I can do it myself.”

“I want to,” Ed said firmly. “I— You did it yourself last time, and I— Just let me. Please.”

The anger that had mostly died down flared once again. “Who else was going to do it? You?” 

He hadn’t let anyone touch him for months after that, even when Bonnet had come back and Blackbeard had been reduced to a persona that only came out during raids. Blackbeard had touched him, of course, though ‘touching’ was a generous term for it. Shoving, slapping, kicking, choking—those were all more appropriate. Ed looked on the verge of tears, but Izzy couldn’t stop now that he’d started. 

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to learn to balance yourself all over again? I trained for hours every single day just so I didn’t end up dying on any one of the suicide missions you sent us on.” He couldn’t even call them raids. 

“You wanted Blackbeard back,” Ed protested. “You told me you only served Blackbeard. You wouldn’t serve Ed.” 

“I was scared.” Fuck. 

Ed frowned. “Scared of what?”

Izzy inhaled deeply and let it out through his mouth. “We’re not meant to be soft. Soft is how people like us die. You just… you shut down. I could deal with that on the Queen Anne. At least the crew knew what to do there. Bonnet’s lot… they don’t respect me. I had a captain who hid in a tent made out of blankets and a crew that was worse than useless, and I knew if I didn’t do something, the English would catch up to us and we’d all be fucked.” 

“What about now?” Ed asked. “You didn’t want Edward then because he was soft. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, mate, but I’m pretty fucking soft. And I like it. I think you might, too, if you tried it.” 

“I can’t.” He hated the note of longing in his voice. “Someone’s got to make sure we don’t get killed.” 

“You don’t trust me as your captain?” 

“Of course I do. More than I did, anyway. You’re not trying to raid every ship you see anymore.” 

“Then trust me with this.” 

Izzy wanted to. He wanted to let Ed take care of him and give him nice things. But Ed had Bonnet. There was no reason to think he would even want to do any of that for Izzy. No, it was better to lock that part of himself away, the same way he’d done for years. 

“I can’t, Edward.” 

Ed’s mouth pressed into a thin line, but mercifully, he didn’t push the issue. Instead, he just nodded. “I’m sorry I hurt you,” he said quietly. 

There was a heaviness that implied Ed was referring to more than just cutting off his toe, but Izzy didn’t think about it too hard. An apology for maiming him, he could handle. Anything more than that was too much right now. 

“I know.” He couldn’t quite bring himself to say ‘I forgive you’ just yet.

A warm hand rested on his shoulder, and Izzy fought the urge to nudge against Ed’s arm like a cat. “I’ll come visit more often, yeah?” Ed murmured. 

“You’re going to make me stay here?” 

“It’s the best place for you right now.”

Izzy let out a frustrated groan. “At least move me to the chaise. Set up a cot. Do anything so I can get out of this bed.”

Ed’s lips tipped up into a sly smile. “Leaving it free for me and Stede?”

“Fuck.” The only thing worse than sleeping in the captains’ bed was the captains sleeping in it while Izzy was in the same room. “Fine. I’ll stay in the fucking bed.”

“Good.” For a moment, it looked like there was more Ed wanted to say. He hesitated, a mix of unreadable expressions on his face. The moment passed, and Ed smiled again, warmer this time. “Want to help me figure out where we’re headed after Okracoke while I bandage you up?” 

Some of the tightness in Izzy’s chest eased, and he nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I suppose I could do that.”

Chapter Text

You can’t get out of this one, … you can’t get it out of me - Richard Siken, Wishbone

Much as Stede wanted to accompany Ed to their room, he remained in Izzy’s cabin. The two of them had things they needed to work through, and Stede would only get in the way. Still, after spending days taking care of Izzy, it was strange to leave him alone for such a long time. What if he needed the bedpan again or his stitches pulled? Roach had mixed up something for the pain that wouldn’t leave Izzy with nightmares. He should get it, just in case. 

The notion was ridiculous, of course. Ed had been taking care of Izzy for so long, he would know exactly what to do in any situation that came up. Stede was the newcomer here, and not a particularly welcome one at that. Although he had to admit, Izzy hadn’t been as bad as he could have been. He’d even helped Stede understand what was really wrong with Ed. That was certainly an unexpected kindness. 

With nothing else to do, Stede glanced around the room. It hadn’t originally been a cabin. In fact, he was fairly sure it had been a storage room. As first mate, Izzy could have kicked Jim and Oluwande out of their room, but instead he’d chosen this space to call his own. Stede couldn’t see the appeal. Aside from being cramped and dark, it just felt downright uncomfortable. The cot where Stede currently sat had absolutely no give, and the blanket was so scratchy he didn’t understand how Izzy could stand to sleep underneath it. Perhaps if he took a closer look, he could figure out why Izzy stayed here. It wasn’t snooping, he told himself. All he wanted was to learn more about his first mate. 

Other than the cot, there was very little furniture in the cabin. A washbasin and desk were crammed beside each other on the wall opposite the bed, and a small table held only a lantern and a carved, wooden box. Now that was certainly interesting. Stede picked the box up and shook it slightly, the rattle within surprising him. It wasn’t locked, so Stede opened it, feeling only the tiniest bit guilty. These were Izzy’s personal things, after all, and he didn’t know how he’d feel if their positions were reversed. 

Some of the items inside were mundane—a small knife, a handkerchief, and a letter Stede didn’t open—but others were far more interesting. Stede hadn’t taken Izzy to be a religious man, but the wooden-beaded rosary suggested otherwise. Most surprising, though, was Izzy’s small collection of interesting rocks. Upon further inspection, Stede saw they weren’t rocks at all. Well, not all of them. An emerald green piece of glass had been worn smooth, and he realized he’d seen something similar during a beach trip a few months back. Sea glass, Ed had called it. Another of the trinkets looked like a rock, but it was almost a perfect circle with ridges at regular intervals that spiraled inward—a fossil. The third one really was a rock, at least on one side. The other side was made up of icy blue crystals that looked sharp enough to cut him if Stede tried to touch them.

All of them were so beautiful. For all that Izzy protested the fine things Stede brought on board, he had his own collection. But then, they were so very different, the things Stede and Izzy appreciated. Izzy’s trinkets were all things found in nature, things that had been created under such harsh conditions it almost seemed impossible anything lovely could come of them. Just like Izzy. 

Stede locked that thought away as he replaced the items in the box and closed the lid. He’d done enough investigating for the day. Before he left, he made sure the box was exactly where he found it and the blanket was pulled taut. Izzy likely wouldn’t be back to his cabin for a few more days, but when he returned, Stede didn’t want him suspecting anything. 

Exiting the cabin, Stede headed toward the kitchen. He hadn’t had anything aside from the small breakfast earlier, and his stomach had started to protest. Some of the other crew had gathered for lunch, the Swede, Frenchie, Lucius, and Oluwande chatting to each other at the table. 

Roach handed him a bowl of stew and a roll. “How is he?” 

“If not for the bandages, I would say there was nothing wrong with him. He’s back to his usual catty self.” 

“Needed a break, then?” Roach asked, chuckling.

“Of course not,” Stede answered. “Ed is with him. I thought I would give the two of them some privacy.” 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Frenchie’s eyebrows were raised in surprise. Of course he’d been the one to see how the two of them were during Stede’s absence. 

Carrying his food to the table, Stede squeezed between Lucius and the Swede. “It’s been over a year. Things have changed between them. Besides, I thought it would do the crew good to see that I was still alive.”

“Yeah, I just saw you this morning, Captain. You kind of bit my head off when I brought breakfast.” Lucius smirked, a puckish glint in his eyes. “What was that all about?” 

“I did no such thing.”

“Kind of like you’re not getting upset right now?” Oluwande asked.

“Cause it seems like you’re getting a little upset,” the Swede added.

Stede glared at his crew. “I am not getting upset! At least, I wouldn’t be if you weren’t insisting I am. There’s nothing to be upset over, and I didn’t bite Lucius’s head off, and if you’re going to act like this, I might as well take my lunch elsewhere.”

“Oh, come on, Captain,” Oluwande said. “We get it. It’s got to be stressful taking care of Izzy for days, especially without any kind of a break.”

That was the thing, though. Even with Izzy’s peevishness earlier, Stede hadn’t been stressed. In fact, he’d been relieved. Izzy annoyed him to no end at times, but there was something about bantering with him that had always been fun. Losing that, the joy of dueling with sharp words instead of sharp swords, was unthinkable. 

“Well, he was unconscious for most of it,” Stede deflected. He couldn’t admit how much he enjoyed caring for Izzy. 

“What about Captain Teach?” Frenchie asked. “How’s he?” 

“He’ll be alright, in time,” Stede said. “He’s had a rough go of it, the last few days.”

“Mm, the mental devastation,” Lucius said with a nod that might have been sarcastic. Stede couldn’t tell. “Have you, y’know, talked it through?”

“A bit.” He didn’t mention that Izzy had been the one to explain what the real problem was. “I don’t want to push him any more than he’s comfortable with. He deserves his privacy.” 

“He’s not the only one,” Oluwande grumbled. 

“What do you mean?”

“You walked in on me and Jim the other day, remember?”

Stede huffed. “In my defense, there wasn’t a sock on the door.” 

“Yeah, but they were being loud enough.” Lucius shot Oluwande a wink and received a scowl in return. 

Much as he tried not to, Stede had thought about the incident a few times since then. It wasn’t the participants who intrigued him, though. Jim had been wearing a harness of some sort around their waist, one that held what was unmistakably a carved phallus. What it was carved from, Stede couldn’t tell. Had Izzy ever used— 

Heat suffused his cheeks. “Can we please get back to the matter at hand?” he asked, though he had absolutely no desire to actually continue the conversation.

“Metaphorical hand or literal Hands?” Roach asked. 

“Well… both, I suppose. They’re really the same thing, aren’t they, since we were talking about Izzy and Ed.”

“And the fact that you snapped at me at breakfast when I was flirting with Izzy.” That drew a collective gasp from the table and another from the kitchen. “Oh, sorry, did I not mention I was flirting with Izzy?”

“I didn’t have a problem with it, and I certainly didn’t snap. Besides, he needs a quiet environment so he can rest and heal. He doesn’t need you—” Stede gestured vaguely “—ogling him. Now if you’ll kindly excuse me, I’m going to… talk to Mr. Buttons about our course.” 

Dropping his spoon, he pushed back from the table. He’d barely touched his stew, but the thought of staying here any longer was suffocating. Still, Stede grabbed his roll before leaving the kitchen and returning to the deck. At least he wouldn’t go completely hungry. 

Rather than finding Mr. Buttons, he made his way toward the forecastle, hoping the salt spray of the ocean would help clear his head and recenter him after whatever had happened back in the kitchen. The fact of the matter was the he had been upset with Lucius for flirting with Izzy, though he was certainly at a loss for why. Sure, Izzy was attractive enough, but their relationship was one of mutual animosity. At least, it had been. Then Izzy had gone and saved his life, and Stede wasn’t sure what he was feeling. Gratitude, of course, and a fair share of guilt. But there was something more, there. Something that went deeper than those two emotions. 

“So.” Stede whirled around at Oluwande’s voice. “Want to tell me what that was all about back there?”

“Not particularly. In fact, I’d hoped for a bit of quiet time alone. Let me guess, you drew the short straw.” 

Oluwande shrugged. “Nah, I volunteered. Figured the Swede’s useless at this sort of thing, Roach isn’t much better, and Lucius wouldn’t appreciate being pushed overboard again.”

“Oh, please, I wouldn’t push Lucius overboard. I’d put him on barnacle duty. He hates that.” 

Lucius had complained for a solid hour to Stede after the night of the French party. At the time, he hadn’t understood the importance of scraping barnacles off the side of the ship. Izzy had been the one to explain it to him, though explain was far too nice of a word for what Izzy had done. In actuality, he’d shouted himself hoarse on the deck one night, perhaps two months after Stede’s return, berating Stede for his lack of knowledge on proper ship management and upkeep. As humiliating as it had been at the time, the parts of Izzy’s tirade that weren’t insults were actually quite informative. 

“Still, I thought it was probably best if it was me,” Oluwande said. 

There was a kindness in his tone that eased some of Stede’s ire. “Thank you. And I apologize for walking in on you and Jim.”

“Yeah, that’s… Just knock or something next time and we don’t have to talk about it again. Like, ever.” 

“Noted.” Tearing off part of the roll, he stuffed it in his mouth. It tasted exactly like the one he’d had at breakfast, and Stede realized Roach had probably made enough for both meals. Oluwande was still standing there, looking at him expectantly. “I don’t suppose you could go back and tell them we’ve talked, could you?” 

“I mean, I could, but you’re the one who always says we need to talk things through.”

Damn him for using Stede’s words against him. He let his shoulders sag and leaned against the rail of the ship. “I don’t even know where to start. There’s all so much, really.”

“Okay, um… maybe start from the beginning?”

That would require knowing where the beginning was. Stede pursed his lips. The crew had been there for almost everything, even if they hadn’t known what was going on in Stede’s mind. Perhaps the day of the raid was a good place to start. After all, the crew had been so caught up in their own fighting that they hadn’t had much of a chance to see what had happened. 

So, Stede told Oluwande how Izzy had taken a bullet meant for him, how Ed had killed Reginald, how he’d assumed by Ed’s silence afterward that he blamed Stede for Izzy being shot. He shared what it had really been like caring for Izzy, the guilt that threatened to consume him, the way Izzy had to explain what was really wrong with Ed. Some things, he didn’t talk about. It wasn’t his place to discuss Izzy and Ed’s complicated relationship, or the revelation he’d had about their feelings for each other. His own feelings were another matter. 

“…and I can’t figure out if it’s some odd mix of gratitude and guilt or if there’s something else there. It sounds ridiculous, I know. We’ve hated each other since we first met.”

Oluwande’s eyebrows had inched upward as Stede spoke, and his expression was incredulous as he said, “Right. Yeah, well. Wow. That was not what I was expecting. At all.” 

“That’s what I’m saying! I can understand wanting to make sure he gets better and feeling grateful for what he did, but this feels like something else. Something different.” Something scarier. 

“What does it feel like?”

Stede opened his mouth to answer and closed it again. What did it feel like? Certainly nothing like what he felt for the rest of the crew, the deep paternal affection and desire to support them. But then, it wasn’t anywhere close to the way he felt about Ed, either. He loved Ed as easily as he breathed. It coursed through him like the very blood in his veins, something steady and sure and right. Stede’s feelings toward Izzy were…

“Messy. Complicated. Like a Gordian knot.”

Oluwande frowned. “Izzy hasn’t taught us that one.”

“No, it’s not a real knot.” Oluwande still looked lost, so Stede shook his head. “It’s— You can’t untangle it. It’s too jumbled up.” 

“Oh. If the knot’s that bad, wouldn’t it just be easier to cut through the rope?” 

Stede paused. “I’m not actually sure what that translates to in this particular metaphor.”

“Fuck’s sake,” Oluwande muttered. He squared his shoulders and met Stede’s eyes. “You’re thinking too hard about it, trying to figure out what it all means. Emotions aren’t simple. You can’t separate them out like different kinds of fabric. Sometimes they all blend together, and you just have to do what your gut’s telling you to do.”

“What if I don’t know what my gut’s telling me to do? And what if what my gut’s telling me to do gets my nose broken or me stabbed… again?”

“Yeah, maybe don’t let your gut do anything that requires consent, first.” 

Closing his eyes, Stede pinched the bridge of his nose. “How are you taking this so well? I’m not even taking this well. Just the thought of telling Edward—”

“Wait, you’re not planning on breaking up with Captain Teach again, are you? Cause the rest of the crew will literally kill you this time.” 

“What? No!” The very idea of it was as sickening as it was absurd. Ed was everything he thought he would never have. Everything he’d been told for so long he didn’t deserve. Even beyond his own feelings, though, Stede had seen the fallout from the last time he left. He would have to die to be forced away from Ed’s side. And he nearly had. Would have, if not for Izzy.

Oh. 

Izzy hadn’t been trying to save his life. Not really. He’d been trying to save Edward’s. No wonder Izzy’s behavior hadn’t changed. As much as he hated Stede, he loved Edward more.

“Uh, Captain, are you alright? You look a bit like you’re going to throw up.” 

“I’m perfectly fine. Nothing to worry about.” He started for the door Oluwande was standing in front of. “This conversation has been truly enlightening, but if you’ll excuse me, I need to go, um, check on Ed.” 

As far as Stede knew, Ed was still in the cabin with Izzy, and he wasn’t about to disturb them. He couldn’t stay here, though. Couldn’t stand to be around anyone else. Fortunately, Oluwande stepped aside to let him pass, and Stede fled.

Chapter Text

Do you see what I mean?
 Do you see what I’m getting at? - Richard Siken, Wishbone

Charting their next course turned into discussing the improvements they’d seen in the crew, which turned into reminiscing on old times, and before Ed realized it, an hour and a half had passed. Izzy’s eyelids were starting to droop, so Ed removed one of the pillows propped behind him and eased him back down.

“Edward.” Izzy grabbed his wrist, his grip stronger than Ed thought it would be.

Ed covered the hand with his own, fighting the urge to brush his thumb across Izzy’s fingers. “I’ll come back when you wake up.”

“Promise me. Not like… not like before.” They both knew he was talking about Ed’s broken promise to kill Stede and make Izzy captain.

“I swear,” he said quietly. Stede’s words played over in his ears. He needs to know you still care about him. “I have to make sure my first mate’s looking after himself. Just like he takes care of me.”

“Don’t think I have any other choice, what with Bonnet playing nursemaid and all.” Izzy didn’t sound nearly as annoyed as Ed thought he would.

“Admit it,” Ed said with a sly smile. “There’s some part of you that likes the attention. All that pampering and being doted on.” 

“He tried to hand feed me like I’m a fucking invalid, Ed,” Izzy protested. 

Ed snorted. “How hard did you bite him?” 

“Not hard enough to make him bleed. I figured you probably wouldn’t appreciate that.” 

The lie was an obvious one, but Ed didn’t call him out on it. Even with their tentative truce, Izzy wouldn’t have thought twice about drawing Stede’s blood if he really wanted to. Apparently Izzy hadn’t wanted to, though, and that was something Ed was definitely going to be thinking about for a while. To keep from having to think about his feelings? Maybe. But he was also intrigued as hell at whatever dynamic was unfolding between Stede and Izzy. 

A few minutes later, Ed slipped out of the cabin. He’d expected Stede to come back before now, but then, Stede had said he wanted to give them time alone. Ed hadn’t realized how much he’d needed it. Over the past year, he and Izzy had closed much of the distance that had grown between them, but there were times it still felt like they were oceans apart. They’d been drifting, since the raid. Ed had been drifting. Unmoored. Spending time with Izzy anchored him, and he felt far steadier as he emerged on the deck. 

“Captain,” Oluwande called. He sounded urgent, so Ed walked over to the railing where he stood. 

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I just wanted to make sure Captain Bonnet was alright.” 

Ed frowned. “Why wouldn’t he be?” 

“It’s just… He looked like he was upset when he went to check on you.” 

“Check on— I haven’t seen him since just after breakfast.”

Oluwande ran a hand across his face. “Okay. In that case, you should probably go check on him.” At Ed’s raised eyebrow, he continued, “Lucius got him worked up over lunch ‘cause he flirted with Izzy.” 

“Lucius flirts with everyone,” Ed said, but he couldn’t deny the surge of possessiveness that went through him the same way it had when he’d walked in on Stede curled around Izzy on the bed. Izzy was his. 

“Yeah, listen, I don’t want to get involved with… whatever it is that’s going on. I just think you should probably talk to him.” 

“Yep. Got it. You don’t happen to have any idea where he is, do you?” Oluwande’s expression gave him his answer. “Right. It’s not that big of a ship. Can’t be that hard to find him.” 

Three quarters of an hour later, and all Ed had discovered was a long list of places Stede wasn’t. The maintop was empty, the non-human room held only their goats and chickens, and he took out some of his frustration on Lucius and Black Pete, who were making appropriate use of the ball room. None of the crew were any help, either. Those of them who’d seen him today had only done so at lunch. Gritting his teeth, Ed tried to remember all the secret passageways Stede had shown him since his return. The one from the jam room turned up nothing, as did his search of the auxiliary library. One by one, he narrowed them down, until he found himself back in the kitchen, pulling at a tin of ship’s biscuit that opened a hidden door to what Stede called the Tea Room. (“I can’t have the crew drinking the good tea. I needed a place to put it where they wouldn’t find it.”)

Stede was sitting on the floor, a full cup beside him. He looked up as Ed walked in and pulled his knees to his chest. 

“Want to tell me why you’re hiding in the Tea Room when you’re not even drinking your tea?” Ed asked, taking a seat across from him. 

“I’m not hiding,” Stede answered petulantly. 

Ed raised a brow. “Right, yeah, ‘cause it normally takes me over an hour to find you, and you’re usually in one of your little secret rooms when I do.”

Rather than responding, Stede picked up his teacup and took a sip. It must have been cold, because he wrinkled his nose and immediately set it back down. He still didn’t say anything, though, and Ed recalled one of their lessons shortly after passive aggression—the silent treatment. He also remembered how to get someone to break it. 

“Heard from some of the crew you were pretty pissed that Lucius was flirting with Izzy,” he said casually, ignoring the fact that he’d felt the exact same way.

“I most certainly am not!” 

His lips twitched, but Ed wasn’t going to mess up his progress by laughing. “Kind of like I didn’t spend the better part of a day hugging his pillow instead of him?” 

Stede looked away. “That’s different.”

Something in his tone made Ed sit forward just a little. “How so?”

“The two of you are— You— He—” Ed dug his fingers into his thighs to keep from interrupting. When Stede spoke again, his voice was soft. “You must know he’d do anything for you.”

“Yeah,” Ed said, guilt curdling in his stomach. “I know.” 

“He didn’t… He still hates me. I’ve wondered for days why he pushed me out of the way. I thought maybe he’d started to see me as his captain or something equally as ridiculous, but he wasn’t thinking about me. He did it for you.” 

Ah. Stede already felt guilty about Izzy’s sacrifice. How much worse must it feel to think that the only reason he didn’t have a bullet hole in his side was because Ed loved him? 

Seeing Stede curled in on himself like that was too much to bear, so Ed scooted across the floor and pulled him close. Part of him expected Stede to resist, but instead, he rested his head on Ed’s chest. He’d known, of course, why Izzy had done it, just as he knew, on a subconscious level, why he had killed Badminton in return. That wouldn’t make it any easier for Stede, though.

“He knew that losing you would devastate me,” he said carefully. “And he was right. I’ve lived without you once. I don’t want to do it again. But—” Ed swallowed hard “—it would devastate me if I lost him, too.”

They’d sailed with each other for so long. Been through so much, good and bad. Izzy had left him before, and he’d left Izzy, but they always seemed to find their way back to one another. The thought of Izzy dying was unacceptable. 

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Stede asked. 

“No. I don’t think there’s much that will. He may have saved you for my sake, but he saved you. He saved you and he’s alive. That’s what matters to me.”

“Of course it doesn’t matter to you. He loves you. I’m the one he hates.”

Ed couldn’t hide his chuckle at the thought of his earlier conversation with Izzy. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that, love.”

Stede huffed. “He’s complained about every single thing I’ve done since he woke up.”

“That just sounds like Iz, really.”

“He bit me when I tried to help him with breakfast.”

“Yeah, well, he didn’t make you bleed, now did he?”

“What does that have to— Hang on. How did you know that?”

Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to share any of what he and Izzy had talked about, but he didn’t want Stede to think Izzy still hated him. Not when there was very clearly something going on with them. Something that was confusing and intriguing and frustrating and arousing for Ed all at once.

“He told me,” Ed explained. “Said he didn’t break the skin because he knew I wouldn’t like it.”

“Like that’s stopped him from doing anything in the past. He wouldn’t have—” Glancing down, Ed could practically see the pieces falling into place in Stede’s mind. “Oh.”

“Yep.”

“What the hell did he mean by it, then?”

Ed shrugged. “Probably the same thing you meant when you were pissed that Lucius flirted with Izzy.” 

“I—” He stopped short at the look Ed shot him and then sighed. “I don’t know what I meant by that, either. It just came over me.”

“Same way it came over me when Olu mentioned it. And the way it did when I saw you sleeping on the bed with him, touching him.” From the way Stede’s eyes widened, Ed was pretty sure he didn’t sound casual anymore. Well. Fuck. “Just a guess, but it probably means we should talk about it.” 

“With Izzy?” Stede sounded so alarmed that Ed might have laughed, if not for the seriousness of the question. 

“Eventually. Probably should start with you and me, though.” No matter what his feelings were toward Izzy—Ed wasn’t ready to confront the fact that he was almost certainly in love with his first mate—he wasn’t about to let them ruin what he had with Stede. Not when he’d fought so hard to get to this point, the two of them secure in their love, no longer afraid of it.

Stede nodded. “And, um, do we have to have that talk right now? It’s just, we’ve left Izzy alone, and I don’t want him to get into any trouble. He’s rather good at that.” 

Recalling the way he’d re-stitched Izzy’s side, Ed shook his head. “Nah, we can do it later. Get back up there. I’ll bring you both something to eat.” 

Chapter Text

You never mean it anyway, not really, and it only makes me that much more ashamed. - Richard Siken, Wishbone

Izzy jolted awake, gulping in air and slick between his thighs, as the door to the cabin opened and Bonnet entered. He seemed genuinely pleased to see that Izzy was awake, his smile so fucking bright that it took a minute for Izzy to realize just how disheveled his clothing was. Bonnet’s breeches were creased, his shirt wrinkled and unbuttoned, and his usually perfect hair was just the slightest bit mussed. 

“Everything alright, Izzy?” Fuck. He’d been staring. “You look a bit flushed. You don’t feel feverish, do you? I’d hoped we were through the worst of it, but—”

“I’m fine, Bonnet,” Izzy gritted out. As fine as he could be, given his current situation, anyway. 

He should have known better than to think he’d be taken at his word. Instead, Bonnet strode across the room and came to a stop beside the bed. Izzy stared resolutely at the duvet as a the back of a cool hand pressed against his forehead and cheeks, but he couldn’t stop the shiver that coursed through him, prickling at his stitches. After a year of proper pirating, Bonnet’s hands should have been far more calloused. Anyone else’s would have been. No doubt he used half a dozen fucking creams every night to keep them so soft. 

“You’re a bit warm,” Bonnet said. “Are you sure you feel alright?”

“I told you, I’m fucking fine. Just had a dream, that’s all.”

Bonnet’s hands slide across his chest, tweaking his nipples, and Izzy’s so sensitive he can feel every whorl of his fingerprints, every line of his palms. Between his legs, Ed laps at his slit, lazily circles his dick with his tongue. Pleasure builds as he clenches around Ed’s fingers inside him, the ring Izzy normally keeps on his necktie pressed snug against his taint where Ed’s pinkie rests.

“Another nightmare?” The kindness in Bonnet’s voice rankled, and the heat in Izzy’s cheeks spread down his neck. 

“Yeah,” Izzy said, because the lie was less embarrassing than admitting he’d had a sex dream about both Ed and Bonnet while sleeping in their bed, on their sheets. Sheets that were damp from the wetness that dribbled out of him, indisputable evidence of his arousal. At least he had the duvet to hide his shame. 

Frowning, Bonnet took a seat in the chair by the bed. “I’d hoped they would stop, now that you aren’t taking the laudanum. Then again, it’s only natural you’d still be having nightmares. I’ve had a few, myself.” 

Bonnet didn’t look at him, his expression filled with a guilt Izzy didn’t know what to do with. He hesitated only a moment before settling on deflection. “I’m surprised you have time to dream with how little sleep you’re getting.” 

“Do my ears deceive me, or did you just make a joke?” 

Izzy rolled his eyes. “Don’t get used to it.”

A faint smile flickered across Bonnet’s lips, and then it was gone. 

The hot brand of a mouth marks his neck, teeth scraping, tongue tracing across his pulse point. Izzy arches into it, reaching back to slide his hand through silken curls and gasping Stede’s name.

What the fuck was wrong with him? It was just a dream. It didn’t mean anything. 

Except it wasn’t just a dream. Izzy had lost count of how many times he’d dreamt of Bonnet touching him. In most of them, Ed was there as well, but occasionally, it was just the two of them. And every time, Izzy woke feeling like the world had turned upside down. Usually, he had a buffer between waking up and seeing Bonnet. He’d clean himself up, dress for the day, and make his rounds before reporting to the captains’ cabin. Now, he felt more than a little bit raw, as though Bonnet could see inside his mind if he looked long enough. 

“I know you didn’t—” Bonnet stared down at his lap like he couldn’t bear to meet Izzy’s eyes. “It occurs to me that I never said thank you for what you did.”

“Didn’t do it for you,” Izzy said reflexively. It was easier to push Bonnet away than try and make sense of everything. Hating Bonnet was as familiar to him as his cravat or the weight of his rapier in his hand. Whatever this was, whatever he was feeling, it wasn’t something he was ready to face just yet. Or ever.

“You did it for Ed. Think what you will, but I’m not an idiot. I know how… devoted you are to him—”

“You have no fucking idea—”

“Forgive me, but I believe I do.” How the hell did Bonnet sound so casual, like they were talking about which bloody fairy story he was going to read to the crew next? “I should be the one lying there. I would be, if it weren’t for you.”

Izzy swallowed hard. “He lost you for a few weeks, and you saw what he was like. I told you. It’s my job to make Edward happy.” And as much as he hated it, Bonnet was the one who made Ed happy. He was the one Ed would always choose. 

“And you think dying would make him happy?”

“I didn’t die, now did I?” he snapped. 

“That’s not the point! The point is, you could have, and Ed would have been devastated.” 

Much as he wanted to believe it, he knew the truth. “He would have mourned me, sure, but he would have lived. I need him to live. So yes. I took a bullet that was meant for you, and I would do it again, if it came to it.” 

Bonnet didn’t immediately respond. His fingers dug into his knees so hard his knuckles turned white, though it was hardly a sharp contrast to the rest of his pale skin. An image flashed behind Izzy’s eyes as he blinked—Bonnet lying on the deck of a ship, blood seeping out from under him as the color leached from his face, no trace of warmth or life in his eyes. Bile rose in Izzy’s throat, but he forced it back down. What the fuck? He’d saved Bonnet for Edward. So why the hell did the thought of him dying make Izzy feel like he’d been gutted by a grappling hook?

“I know how you feel about me, Izzy,” Bonnet said quietly.

Cold dread flooded Izzy’s veins. “Wh- That’s not—”

“I’m well aware that you hate me. You have since the day we met, and I don’t expect that to change any time soon.” Izzy hadn’t either, but he wasn’t going to admit that out loud, especially since he could still hear his heartbeat in his ears as his panic slowly subsided. “Still, you saved my life, and I am grateful. Thank you.” 

“I—” They didn’t say things like this to each other. Except Izzy had the day he’d woken up, after Bonnet bathed him and changed the sheets and didn’t breathe a word about the scars on his chest. “You’re welcome.”

Bonnet’s smile wasn’t fleeting this time. It lingered, the brightness of it like a sunbeam, cutting through the cloudy skies outside, and Izzy couldn’t let his gaze linger for long. He shifted uneasily, wincing at the stickiness in his smalls and the tug of his fresh stitches. 

“Here. Let me help you. Ed will be bringing lunch in a moment. Best if we sit you up.” Bonnet grabbed the pillow off the floor that Ed had pulled from under him hours earlier. 

“You don’t have to— I can—”

“Nonsense.” Izzy knew that tone. It was the same ‘kill you with kindness’ tone he’d used when he had a knife pressed against Izzy’s cheek the day they’d met. “I don’t mind a bit.” 

The problem wasn’t whether or not Bonnet minded. The problem was the way he’d climbed halfway on the bed, one knee planted between Izzy’s legs. It was the fact that he wrapped an arm around Izzy’s waist, hand resting warm between his shoulder blades to help ease him up, and the way his shirt gaped open to reveal a broad chest dusted lightly with hair. Izzy’s breath hitched, and he darted his tongue out to wet his lips. 

“Not going to bite me again, are you?” Bonnet’s voice was low and teasing, and Izzy could feel his heartbeat in his fucking throat. 

He started to protest, to push Bonnet off him, but the door opened and he froze as Edward entered the cabin, a tray of food in his hands. 

“Captain, I—”

“Ah, there you are, Ed.” 

Bonnet settled him down on the pillow he’d stacked behind him, and then he was gone, leaving Izzy reeling. He wasn’t supposed to like the way Bonnet on top of him, even if his dreams said otherwise. Edward was the only one he had ever wanted. One of the few people he’d ever allowed to touch him. To know him in every way, even if that part of their relationship had ended years ago at Izzy’s insistence. 

“Glad to see you two getting along,” Edward said, meeting Izzy’s eyes with a look he couldn’t interpret. 

“Yes, well, it’s rather difficult to eat lying down.” Was Bonnet… blushing? 

This was a dream. It had to be. Someone had dosed him with laudanum again, and all of this was nothing more than some fucked up nightmare. That was the only explanation for the way Ed and Stede were acting. 

“How you feeling, Iz?”

There was absolutely no way he could even begin to answer, so instead, he muttered, “Fine.” 

Ed’s movements were almost predatory as he crossed the room, his gaze never wavering even as he passed Bonnet, and Izzy realized he’d been worrying about the wrong person seeing through him. If anyone could see inside his mind, it would be Ed, and then where would that leave him? After Bonnet came back, Izzy had worked to remind Ed how indispensable he was. The thought of being forced to leave, to go back to the Queen Anne, was unacceptable. By some miracle, both Ed and Bonnet had allowed him to stay, and while he still wasn’t comfortable, he was at least sure of his place on the ship. If Ed thought he was trying to get between him and Bonnet, though, Izzy didn’t know what would happen. Ed had always had a possessive streak when it came to the things (and people) he considered his, and Bonnet might as well have a “Do Not Touch” placard around his neck. 

“Really?” Ed asked, a single eyebrow raised. “‘Cause you look a little hot to me.” 

Oh God, he was dead, wasn’t he? This wasn’t even an opium dream. The bullet or the fever had killed him, and this was his own personal Hell. An eternity of longing, everything he desired held just out of reach, taunting him. 

Bonnet smacked Ed lightly on the arm. “Give the man his food and let him eat in peace.” 

Right. Izzy had forgotten that Bonnet was just as possessive as Edward was.

Ed set the tray down on his lap, Izzy’s ring still on his pinkie for safekeeping. He should have asked for it back, but there was part of him that needed to see it on Ed’s finger. As much as he was Bonnet’s, some part of Ed was still Izzy’s.

“Sorry, Izzy,” Ed said sheepishly. “You really do look a bit feverish.” 

“I told you, I’m fine.” Annoyance rankled under his skin. Feverish. It had been a joke, then. They’d thought it would be funny to… what? Flirt with him? Well, bugger that for a lark. “I’d be a lot better if you twats left me alone for more than an hour.”

Ed stepped back, his expression wounded, and Izzy fought the urge to apologize. He hadn’t done anything wrong. They were the ones who thought they could play with his emotions. What could you possibly give me that Stede hasn’t? Your heart? You’d have to have one first, the Edward from his nightmares cooed in his ear. 

“I… yeah, okay. We’ll get out of your hair. Eat your stew.” Blinking rapidly, Ed turned and walked back across the cabin to slip out the door.

Bonnet stayed. His lips were pursed and there was a crease between his brows as he considered Izzy. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “We weren’t—”

“Go. Please.” Izzy hated how weak he sounded, but he didn’t think he could handle whatever Bonnet was going to say next. 

After a moment’s hesitation, Bonnet nodded, and Izzy felt some of the tension ease from his chest. Then Bonnet reached out and squeezed his shoulder, and Izzy jerked so hard he almost upset the tray on his lap. Before Izzy’s thoughts could form into something coherent, Bonnet was gone. His arm prickled where he’d been touched, and Izzy was fairly sure if he looked down, he’d see the imprint of Bonnet’s hand. Instead, he stared at the bowl of stew in front of him, his mind replaying everything that happened since he woke up until his lunch was cold. 

Chapter Text

here we are at the place
 where I get to beg for it - Richard Siken, Wishbone

Ed was curled up on Izzy’s cot when Stede entered the room, pillow clutched tightly against his chest as he rubbed his thumb across the ring on his pinkie. Izzy’s ring. It should have made Stede jealous, the way Ed found solace in his first mate’s cabin, surrounded by his things. Months ago—hell, weeks ago—it probably would have. Now, though, he took a certain comfort in it, himself. 

“Fucked that one up, didn’t I? I thought…” Ed’s voice was watery, and he sniffled. “Doesn’t really matter what I thought.” 

“You did nothing wrong,” Stede said gently. He sat on the bed and pulled Ed into his arms, pillow and all. “He was already worked up when you came in with the food. I think I may have woken him. He seemed a bit disoriented.”

“How do you mean?”

“I noticed the same thing you did. He looked warm. When I asked about it, though, he shrugged it off. Said he was fine, just like he told you.” He hadn’t looked fine. Izzy’s breath had been shaky, his eyes overly bright, and he’d reacted so strongly to Stede’s touch. It was almost as if… No. That couldn’t be right. Izzy hated him. He was just imagining things because of his conversation earlier with Ed. 

“‘Course he would say that. It’s how he is.” 

Stede didn’t point out it was also how Ed was, considering he wasn’t much better, himself. “He was probably overwhelmed,” he said instead. “My fault, really. We had a bit of a chat before you came in.”

Ed frowned. “My kind of chat or your kind of chat?” 

“Mine, I’m afraid.” His cheeks heated, but Ed deserved to know why Izzy lashed out the way he had. “I thanked him for what he did. I realized I hadn’t, and that… it wasn’t right, after he— he—” 

Lacing their fingers together, Ed raised Stede’s hand to his lips. “I know, love. What did he say to that?” 

“‘You’re welcome.’”

“Huh. Didn’t expect that, to be honest.”

“No, me either.” Stede dropped a kiss to the top of Ed’s head. “Anyway, my point is he was already on edge by the time you came in.” 

“Yeah, with you. No offense.” Before he could consider whether to be offended or not, Ed continued, “Iz doesn’t do that with me.” 

Stede laughed. “He shouted at you for ten minutes last week. I’m pretty sure at one point he stopped saying actual words.” 

That, at least, drew a smile, but it was gone far too quickly. “That was different. Captain and first mate stuff. Not Ed and Izzy.”

“I wasn’t aware there’s a difference.” 

“Lines get kind of blurred sometimes. A lot of times. Don’t think there was any way to mistake me calling him hot for captain and first mate stuff, though.” 

Pursing his lips, Stede considered that point. “Do you think it made him uncomfortable?” 

“Dunno.” Ed said with a shrug. “He was never like this before.” 

There was a certain gravity to the words that gave Stede pause. “Before what?” he asked carefully. 

Ed tensed beside him. “Before uh… you?” From the way he looked resolutely down at the pillow, they’d both heard the lie. 

“Edward.” 

“It was before you,” he said softly, but there was an edge of defensiveness to it.

“You and Izzy, you were intimate in the past.” It wasn’t a question.

Ed’s laugh sounded like it was punched out of him. “Not sure you’d call it intimate. We got each other off every now and then.”

A spark of jealousy flared in Stede’s chest, but almost immediately, it was quenched by an overwhelming curiosity. “What happened?”

“We stopped,” Ed answered, his voice strained. “He stopped.”

“Oh.” Well that was unexpected. Stede assumed Ed would have been the one to break things off.

“I didn’t— I thought you knew.”

In retrospect, he really should have guessed. Even before he realized Ed’s love for Izzy transcended that of a friend, it was obvious just how deep Izzy’s feelings ran. Not that he would have said anything. Despite their mutual dislike of one another and the verbal sparring matches they so regularly found themselves in, Stede wasn’t so cruel that he would poke at the open wound of Izzy’s unrequited love. Except it wasn’t unrequited. Izzy didn’t know that, though.

“Why did he stop?” Stede asked. 

“I don’t know. He never said. We started going longer and longer between, and the last time I tried, he said no. Figured that was that.” There was a note of confusion in his tone, and Stede imagined how hard it must have been to be rebuffed and never know why. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, both apologizing for bringing it up and offering sympathy for what Ed had lost. 

“Nah, don’t be. It was a long time ago. Five, six years at least. Wasn’t anything serious, anyway.”

“What was it like?” The words were out before Stede could stop them, but he realized he didn’t want to take them back. 

Turning on the lumpy mattress, Ed stared at him incredulously. “You really want me to tell you how Iz and I fucked?”

Stede rubbed the back of his neck and tried to ignore the way his cock was growing hard in his breeches. “Erm… maybe?”

“Every time I think I’ve got you figured out, you surprise me,” Ed said with a grin. 

He dropped the pillow and hauled Stede against him, claiming his mouth. For a moment, Stede sat frozen, trying to figure out exactly what he’d said to warrant that response, but then Ed nibbled at his lower lip and his body moved of its own accord. One hand slid into Ed’s hair, tugging just enough to earn him a whine; he squeezed Ed’s hip with the other, fingers digging into the silk of his breeches. 

Logically, he knew it hadn’t been that long since he and Ed last made love, but with everything that had happened over the last several days, it felt like years. Need and lust and love threatened to overwhelm him as he positioned them, Ed on his back, Stede hovering over him. 

“Wait,” Ed gasped. 

Stede breathed heavily, every muscle tensed with the effort it took not to grind his hips down against Ed’s or draw him up for another kiss. “Don’t want to. Let me—”

“Stede, mate, we can’t do this here.” 

“Why not?”

“This is Izzy’s cabin.” Oh. Right. “I want this, but not here. It’s not fair to him.”

Ed was right, of course. It had to be uncomfortable enough for Izzy, confined to the bed where Ed and Stede were intimate—and it was intimate between them, sexual and otherwise. For them to claim his bed, as well, would be unfair. Cruel, even. 

A groan of frustration escaped him as he pulled back, allowing Ed to sit up. “Where do you propose we take our little rendezvous?”

“Auxiliary closet’s out.”

“Jim and Oluwande might actually murder us if we use their room.”

“Galley’s too public.” 

“Frenchie said something about using the jam room this evening.” 

“I’m not fucking in front of the goats,” Ed said firmly.

Stede laughed, but it trailed off as a thought occurred to him. “There’s always the brig.”

“Forgot we actually had a brig.” 

It was an easy thing to do, given that the only person who had ever seen the inside of it (to their knowledge) was Izzy, and even then, it was only for a week after Stede and his crew returned to The Revenge. Like everything else on the ship, Stede had designed it for comfort, and it had been spared during Ed’s… redecoration. Likely because he hadn’t realized the ship had a brig at all, Stede realized. 

“It would be out of the way, and it has a bed,” Stede said. 

“Yep. We’re going. Right now. Come on.” Ed grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet, and Stede let himself be led out of the cabin, pausing only to close the door behind him.

Ivan waved from the helm, and they passed the Swede and Wee John as they made their way through the berth. From the way they both looked at Stede, he could tell that word of his outburst at lunch had spread, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He would apologize later. Oluwande and Frenchie were practicing in the jam room, something lively and heavy on the drums, and Stede’s heart seemed to beat in time with the rhythm. There was something about this that felt incredibly taboo—like they were breaking the rules, even though there was no rule against using the brig for activities of a personal nature. No, it wasn’t what they were doing, or even where they were doing it (though the latter certainly added to the thrill.) It was who they would both be thinking about that set every nerve alight with anticipation. 

The brig was toward the stern of the ship, as far away from the other rooms as possible. Unlike other ship jails, it had proper walls, rather than the more traditional iron bars. In truth, Stede had intended for the space to be one where he could escape from Mary and the children every now and again. Its original purpose made it an unlikely choice for a brig, what with the lock being on the inside. For some reason, that had only intensified Izzy’s anger, even after Stede had pointed out that putting him in the brig was more for his own safety than the rest of the crew’s.

As soon as the bolt of the lock slid into place, Ed pushed Stede against the door, thigh crowding the space between his legs. Stede tilted his head at the scrape of Ed’s lips and teeth against his jaw, giving him access to more skin. A groan escaped him as Ed bit down harder than expected, though it was cut off by a gasp when his wrists were gathered up and pinned by one of Ed’s hands. 

“Is this—fuck—how he liked it?” 

Ed nipped at his clavicle. “Yeah. Fuck, Stede you should have seen him back then. Wanted me to bite him. Bruise him. Give him something so he’d remember that he was mine.” 

“Do it to me.” The order came out more as a plea, but the effect was the same. The grip on his wrists tightened, and Stede groaned as sharp teeth grazed his skin, leaving a trail that encircled his neck.

“Yeah?” Ed growled. “Want me to mark you like I did him?”

“Yes, Ed, please!”

He pulled back, dragging Stede with him and shoving him toward the bed. “Best get naked if you don’t want me ripping those clothes off you.”

Though he still preferred his intricately patterned waistcoats and brightly colored frocks, Stede had to admit that there was a certain efficiency in dressing simply. He pulled his shirt over his head and let it drop to the floor, then set to work on his breeches and smalls. The entire time, he could feel Ed’s eyes on him, and it sent a shiver down his spine as he climbed onto the mattress. Ed tugged his own shirt off, and Stede’s breath caught. He had mapped every scar and tattoo on Ed’s body with his fingers and tongue more times than he could count, but he would never get tired of the view. His cock gave an appreciative twitch, already more than half hard, and he scooted up the bed to give Ed space. 

Something hard bumped against his hip, and Stede frowned. He couldn’t imagine Izzy had left anything from his stay. Actually, come to think of it, for a room that hadn’t been used in almost a year, it was surprisingly dust-free. Pulling back the duvet, Stede raised his eyebrows, then plucked the half-empty bottle of oil from the sheets. 

Edward grinned and stepped out of his breeches. “Seems we’re not the only ones who wanted a bit of privacy.”

“You don’t think…” Stede wrinkled his nose. “Certainly they washed the sheets.” 

“Looks like it. Even if they didn’t, you really want to find somewhere else to fuck right now?”

“Fair point. Maybe we’ll just stay on top of the duvet, then.” That seemed safe enough. Far less likely to come into contact with the rest of the crew’s dried bodily fluids. At least, that was what he was going to tell himself. 

Ed joined him on the bed, and Stede huffed as his elbows were knocked out from under him, his back hitting the mattress. “Never would have been like this with me and Izzy,” Ed said, wrapping a hand lightly around Stede’s neck. 

Perhaps it should have scared him, but instead, Stede tilted his head back to give Ed more room. “Oh?”

“The bed’s too soft. And too big, really.” Sharp pain rippled through him as Ed pinched a nipple between his finger and thumb. He arched up, trying to find relief even as his cock twitched against his thigh. “When we first started, we’d take whatever we could get. A few minutes to suck each other in the storeroom, a quick handjob when everyone else was asleep. Even when I became captain, we never had fucking… feather mattresses and freshly laundered sheets.” 

Somehow, the sting was even worse when Ed let go, and Stede groaned. While he and Edward enjoyed taking their time in bed, they’d also had the occasional quickie, and he wasn’t entirely unaware of the sexual habits of the crew. Still, Ed blowing him in the ball room wasn’t a fantasy he wanted to play out, so he was grateful they at least had the privacy the brig afforded them. 

“What did you do—fuck!” Stede squeezed his eyes shut as Ed turned his attention to the other nipple. “What did you do after you became captain?” 

He opened his eyes to find Ed staring down at him, his expression almost feral. “I had him up against every surface of his cabin and mine.” 

Stede could imagine it—Izzy’s lips stretched around Ed’s cock; Ed thrusting into him, rough and fast; Izzy begging for more as Ed gripped his skin so hard it would leave bruises. Ed was so skilled at taking apart his opponents in a fight. How must it feel to be on the receiving end of that same intensity during sex? 

“Fuck, Stede, he was so fucking gorgeous. He’d do anything I asked. Anything. Always trusted I wouldn’t push too far, even when I hurt him. Even… I didn’t…” Ed’s voice faltered, and Stede knew he was headed toward that dark place of self-loathing and regret. 

He pulled Edward down for a searing kiss, tangling his hand in Ed’s hair and tugging just the way he liked it. So much had happened between Ed and Izzy, so much that Stede still didn’t know, but right now, he wanted to make Ed feel good. Selfishly, he couldn’t deny he still desperately wanted to see what Ed was like when he let go like this. 

“Show me,” he said against Ed’s lips. “Show me how you used to fuck him.” 

The shock in Ed’s eyes gave way almost immediately to pure lust, and he reached back to grab the oil. “Gonna need to get you ready first. You two don’t exactly have the same equipment.” 

Oh. Right. Stede hadn’t considered that. He watched as Ed unstoppered the bottle and poured a substantial amount of oil into his hand, more than they normally used. Rather than coating his fingers, Ed divided it between his cupped palms, then slid them between Stede’s legs to slather the oil along his upper thighs, balls, and taint. It was a strange sensation but not entirely uncomfortable. 

“Roll over,” Ed said lowly. “Hands and knees.” 

Stede scrambled to comply, oil squelching as he moved. His heart beat loudly in his ears, and his cock ached as he waited for whatever Ed had planned. A slick hand found his throat again, and he let his head drop back between his shoulder blades. Ed’s other arm wrapped around his middle, effectively trapping him. Rather than spreading his legs, Ed used his own to squeeze them together, the insides of his calves pressing against the outsides of Stede’s. Only when the tip of Ed’s cock nudged against the crease of his thighs did Stede recognize what he was about to do. 

The fingers around his throat tightened, and Stede let out a noise between a croak and a groan as Ed pushed into the slick channel he’d created. He barely gave Stede time to get used to the feeling before he pulled back and plunged in again. Ed’s pace was brutal, his hips slapping against Stede’s ass with every thrust. It was certainly nothing like what Stede was used to, but the sheer urgency with which Ed fucked him only added to the appeal. He closed his eyes and pictured Izzy in his place, head tilted back as Ed squeezed his neck, cutting off his air. The ache between his legs as he clenched around Ed’s prick. 

“More,” Stede gasped. “Fuck—harder.” 

“Yeah? You want me to give it to you?” 

“Please, Ed!”

The arm left his waist, and he was rewarded with a slap on his thigh, followed almost immediately by another. His entire body tensed, but that only seemed to encourage Ed, whose movements grew frantic. Every slide of his cock against Stede’s perineum and balls sent waves of pleasure through him, and he realized there was a chance he could come like this. 

“Fuck, Stede, he was so fucking—” The end of the sentence was drowned out by a low moan. 

A heavy weight settled on Stede’s back, and soft lips pressed a kiss to his spine. Stede knew without asking that Ed had never done that to Izzy. Had they ever kissed while they fucked? Something told him it was unlikely. 

“Tell me,” Stede urged.

Ed shuddered against him, his breath hot and damp on Stede’s skin. “He always wanted it rough. Needed it rough. You should have seen it. He’d take it so fucking beautifully and beg for more.”

The hand on his hip clamped down so hard Stede knew there would be bruises. He’d walk around for days with visual proof of Ed’s love on his skin, and he understood why Izzy needed it like this. Ed had always been free in his affection with Stede. He kissed him on deck in front of the crew or lean against his leg during story time. They fed each other off their plates. But Izzy never had that. The only way he could know for certain that Ed wanted him was by the scrapes and the marks left behind. His chest ached at the desperation Izzy had to have felt, but Stede refused to let it overwhelm him. They would show him just how much they cared for him. Over and over, as many times as it took. They’d shower him with kisses and bruises alike so he’d never doubt the depth of their affection.

His orgasm took him by surprise, pleasure ripping through him like a hurricane as he spent onto the duvet. Only Ed’s hand at his throat kept him from falling forward, and he closed his eyes, floating in the blissful haze. Ed snapped his hips, chasing his own release and saying something under his breath. It took Stede a moment to register that he was chanting Izzy’s name. He came with a shout, his movements stuttering and then stopping altogether. Semen mixed with the oil between Stede’s legs and dripped down his thighs as he let himself collapse to the mattress. Ed flopped down beside him, and he let himself be pulled closer, an arm and a leg flung across his shoulders and calves. 

“Fuck,” Stede panted, his entire body buzzing. “Gonna feel that one for a few days.”

He felt Ed tense. “That wasn’t too much, was it? I didn’t hurt you?”

Reaching up, Stede twined their fingers together and brought them to his lips, and Ed relaxed a little. “Not at all. It’s not something I would prefer regularly, but the thought of Izzy like this…” 

“I know. Trust me, the thought is nothing compared to seeing him like this.” 

Stede replayed the desperate way Ed begged for Izzy before he came. He couldn’t deny the tiny bit of jealousy that threatened to take hold, but beyond that was desire and longing and curiosity. He wanted to see the Edward and Izzy break apart for one another. Hell, he wanted to have a hand in it. 

“So,” he said, the word landing heavy in the small room. “What do we do about it?”

Ed sighed and pressed closer to him. “I guess it’s time we talk it through.”

Chapter Text

Do you know how it ends? Do you feel lucky? - Richard Siken, Wishbone

Since there was no water in the room, Ed used a corner of the duvet to clean them up, wiping as gently as possible against Stede’s skin. The bruises were starting to set in, and the bite marks on his neck and chest had deepened in color. Tiny specks of blood dotted along his collarbone and throat, and Ed’s eyes went wide. It was one thing to see the marks on Izzy. There was a sense of pride and ownership that accompanied them, the heady feeling of trust and care and lust all mixed together. Izzy begged for the pain. He needed the pain. Stede… didn’t. Sure, he had asked Ed to show him how he fucked Izzy, but he’d said it wasn’t something he’d prefer regularly. What the fuck did that mean? Had he endured it just because he thought Ed wanted him to? Ed’s stomach rolled at the thought. He’d fucked up. He’d been too rough. He’d—

“Ed?” Concern creased Stede’s brow and tugged the corners of his lips downward. “What is it?”

Every instinct was telling Ed to run or deflect or lie. He was the one who should be taking care of Stede right now, not the other way around. But Stede was looking at him so carefully, so earnestly, that Ed didn’t want to let him down. 

“I hurt you,” he mumbled, trailing a finger beside one of the scratches he’d left behind. 

Stede pushed the duvet the rest of the way off the bed, wrinkling his nose at the sheet underneath him, then held out his arms. It wasn’t an order or a command. It was an invitation—one Ed gratefully accepted. He climbed back onto the mattress and carefully scooted closer, but he froze when Stede let out a soft hiss of pain.

“It’s fine,” Stede said quickly. “Just stings a little.”

“‘M sorry.” 

Much as he wanted to, Ed didn’t fight as he was pulled closer and felt the gentle pressure of Stede’s lips on the top of his head. “Edward, we’ve both been stabbed. Multiple times. A few scratches are nothing compared to that.” 

“That was different,” Ed said. 

“You asked for me to stab you. I asked for this. How is that different?”

Ed gritted his teeth together, thoughts swirling like a maelstrom as he tried to find an answer. “I don’t know. It just is.”

Reaching up, Stede cupped his cheek and drew him down for a kiss. It was nothing like the ones they’d shared mere moments ago. Those had been possessive, the need to dominate Stede overpowering everything else. Now, Stede stroked Ed’s bottom lip with his tongue, coaxing him to open. Ed did, his mind going blank as Stede licked inside his mouth. He swallowed Stede’s gentle hum and felt some of the tension in his shoulders ease. Even after they broke apart, Stede didn’t pull away. He nudged his nose against Ed’s and rubbed in between his shoulder blades, and Ed had to admit it felt really fucking good. 

“Better?”

“A little,” Ed said quietly, sliding down to use Stede’s chest as a pillow. 

“Good. Now, can you tell me what’s really bothering you?”

That was a far more difficult question to answer. He frowned, trying to figure out how best to explain it—namely because instead of one ‘it,’ there were about half a dozen, all threatening to mutiny if he focused on any of them for too long.

“You didn’t like me doing all those things to you,” he said finally.

The hand that was stroking his arm stilled. “I never said that.”

Ed’s frown deepened. “But, you…” That didn’t make sense. 

“Oh dear.” Stede sighed. “I should have worded that better. What I meant was, well. Sod it. I enjoyed all the things you did to me because I was imagining myself as Izzy, and I know exactly how bizarre that sounds, so there’s no need to tell me.”

“Yeah, it doesn’t sound that bizarre.” Ed rubbed the back of his neck and refused to meet Stede’s eyes. “I kind of… thought of him while I was fucking you.” 

“I know.” He didn’t sound hurt or upset, and when Ed chanced a look up at him, he saw that Stede was smiling. What the fuck? “You said his name over and over again right before you came.”

Ah, shit. “Didn’t know I was doing it out loud. I’m sorry.”

Stede kissed the top of his head. “There’s no need to be sorry. I’m not upset, dearest. I think it’d be rather hypocritical of me, if I were.”

“Okay, yeah, fair point.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “So basically we both got off to Izzy.”

“It does appear that way, yes. Then again, I don’t see how we wouldn’t have, since I did ask you to fuck me like you fucked him,” Stede said with a laugh. “Seems our first mate’s made himself at home in our bed in more ways than one.” 

Our first mate. Those words shouldn’t have been enough to warm him from the inside out and make his spent cock briefly consider twitching, and yet, they did. They also plucked at the chord of possessiveness that was ever-present when it came to Izzy. 

“He’s always been mine,” Ed whispered, his breath dampening Stede’s skin. “Half our lives, he’s been mine, and I don’t— I don’t know how to share him.” 

“Oh. Would you rather we not do this, then?”

Ed shook his head. “I want it. I want you, and him, and us, but when I walked into our cabin and saw you sleeping with your hand around his ankle, all I could think was that he’s mine.” 

“You don’t know how to share him,” Stede echoed. He was quiet for a moment before adding, “Do you know how to share me?”

His fingers tightened reflexively around Stede’s hip, and he swore under his breath.

“I see.” 

“No you don’t.” How could Stede, when Ed couldn’t see it, himself? 

Stede sighed the way he did when Ed was being childish. “When I first met you, did you know how to tell the difference between a salad fork and a fish fork?” 

Whatever Ed had expected him to say, it wasn’t that. “‘Course I didn’t. No one needs that many fucking forks to eat with, anyway.” 

“Okay, and did I know how to tie a bowline?”

Ed couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped him. “Mate, I don’t think you knew what a bowline was.”

“I knew what it was. Mostly. A little bit. Anyway, that’s not the point. My point was we’ve both learned new things since we met. We’ve grown, individually and together. Sure, you may not know how to share Izzy or me, but we can learn.” 

Some part of that sentence nagged at him, and he pursed his lips. “Stede, can you share me?”

Above him, Stede shifted. “We can learn,” he said again, softer this time. “I know you lo— I know how much he means to you, and it makes me happy to see the two of you together. But that doesn’t mean there’s not jealousy, too.” 

Ed noticed the way Stede stopped himself, and he swallowed hard around the fear in his throat. “I love him.” It hung in the air like a spider dangling from a strand of its web, but Ed forced himself to continue. “You were right. I love Izzy. Probably have for years—maybe from the start, I don’t know—and it fucking terrifies me.” 

Stede’s laugh was rueful. “I understand the feeling.”

As far as he and Stede had come, the words still sent a twinge of pain through Ed’s chest, but he was right. If anyone understood what Ed was going through right now, it was Stede. Even then, their situations were so different. It had taken attempted murder for Stede to realize what love actually felt like, much less that he felt it toward Ed. Ed, though, he’d known after a few weeks that he was in love with Stede. There had been others, over the years, who’d caught his attention—sometimes for a night, sometimes for a few months—but the thought of losing them felt like losing a toy. Something fun to play with but nothing he couldn’t live without. At first, he’d thought Stede was the same as all the rest. They had fun together, and Ed enjoyed being around him, but there would come a point that he would lose interest and be on to the next guy. Only after he realized he couldn’t kill Stede, not even indirectly, did he know that Stede was unique. 

Except he wasn’t, was he, because Ed loved Izzy. 

“I don’t understand,” Ed said. “With you, it’s soft and sweet and fucking… bubble baths and cakes after dinner, and I love that. I love your wonder and imagination and excitement.”

Ed felt Stede’s smile against his hair. “Thank you, dear. I rather love all those things about you, too.”

“It feels different with Iz, though.”

“I’m sure it does. For starters, I think he’d kill us both and himself if you called him soft.”

A quiet snort escaped him. “You’re not wrong.” Ed was silent for a few moments, memories of him and Izzy rising to the surface of his mind like dolphins coming up for air before sinking back down again. The day he’d given Izzy his ring, and the day he’d marked Izzy as his. The first time they’d fucked. The look in Izzy’s eyes when he agreed to be Ed’s first mate. “It’s always been so intense. He’d do anything for me. Anything. I mean, fuck, he stayed by my side after I made him eat his fucking toe.”

Stede stroked up and down his arm, and Ed nuzzled against his chest, grateful for the comfort. “That doesn’t sound particularly healthy, no, but you’ve both had such harsh lives. I know Izzy isn’t quite there yet, but you, at least, are starting to realize there are other ways to live.”

“Even if he got there, it wouldn’t feel the same.”

“Of course not,” Stede said. “We’re not the same person. I know I’m not an expert on the subject of love, but I can’t help but think of my children. They each have their own distinct personalities, and I love them differently because of it. That doesn’t mean I don’t love them, even if the best way for me to show it was by leaving. Not to say I'm suggesting that any of us leave,” he added quickly.

“I guess I never really thought of it like that.”

“Well, what is it you love about Izzy?”

Ed didn’t hesitate. “He’s stubborn as shit, and loyal, and the most talented swordsman I’ve ever met. He’s down to earth and cautious, and as much as he yells at the crew, he only does it ‘cause he wants to keep them alive.” But there was more to it than just what Izzy could do for his captain and the ship. “He’s so fucking sentimental. Won’t ever admit it, but he is. And his voice. You should hear him sing.”

“Izzy sings?”

“Not as much, anymore.” Actually, Ed couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard him sing. “But he used to. Used to be nicer, too. We’d have fun together, and every now and then, he’d even laugh.”

Somewhere during the years of building the legend of Blackbeard and then fighting so hard to maintain it, they’d lost that. Ed knew he hadn’t always been the best captain, but the weight of that much responsibility was exhausting at times. As good as Izzy was at following orders, he was out of his depth when it came to planning a fuckery or plotting their next course of action. His frustration fed off Ed’s, and vice versa, turning their devotion to one another into something darker and bitter. 

Still, there were times that things felt the way they used to. Times when Ed and Izzy could be around one another without hissing and scratching like feral cats. Ed wanted more of those. He wanted to give Izzy the nice things they never had when they were children, and sing shanties with him, and hug him whenever the fuck he wanted. 

“You’ll get there,” Stede murmured, and Ed realized he’d said at least some of that out loud. “You need to tell him, especially since he clearly loves you, too.”

“I know.” Ed had known for years, just as some part of him had known of his own love for Izzy. He just hadn’t been ready to think about it. “I think we should give it a few days, though. Not because I’m putting it off or anything, but he popped his stitches trying to get out of our bed because we have sex in it.”

“He what?”

“Oh, yeah, it’s fine now. I got him all sorted. Point is, I don’t want to make things worse.” 

Stede nodded. “You’re right. Let’s give him time to recover. Once he’s not in any danger of reopening the wound, we can try and talk to him.” 

“We?” Ed asked, raising a brow. 

Although he couldn’t see it, he could imagine Stede’s cheeks turning pink. “You’re not the only one realizing he has feelings for Izzy. Highly inconvenient, since I’m fairly certain he still despises me.” 

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that, love. Not to say that he likes you or anything, but he doesn’t despise you. If anything, I think he’s just as confused about his feelings as you are.” 

“All the more reason to wait, then. For now, let’s get these sheets to the laundry and wash up.” Stede paused mid-stretch. “You don’t think anyone will know what we were doing, do you?”

Ed laughed. “Pretty sure they already know.” 

Chapter Text

because I’m hungry and hollow and just want something to call my own. - Richard Siken, Wishbone

Izzy thought Ed and Bonnet would give him space after his outburst, and they did, at first. With each day that passed, though, they spent more and more time in his room, providing a shoulder to lean on after Roach cleared him to walk, bringing meals, or sitting by the bed to keep him company. Having Ed by his side felt natural and comforting, and somewhere along the way, Bonnet’s presence became less annoying and more tolerable. It would almost have been nice if not for the fact that their persistent closeness meant he was almost constantly on the edge of arousal. Their fingers brushing his skin when they checked his bandages, their solid bodies against his as they took a turn around the room, the casual way they gave him orders when he was being stubborn—he stayed so turned on it was going to drive him mad. It was almost a relief when he was finally able to move back into his own cabin.

Almost.

He’d never worried about how comfortable his cot was before. The bed served its purpose, and honestly, he’d slept on worse. But between the lumpy mattress and Ed and Bonnet’s scents on his blanket, sleep evaded him. When he woke the next morning to resume his (light, per Edward’s orders) duties, Izzy had only managed a few hours of sleep, and those had been filled with dreams so intense he’d fucked himself on his fingers before slipping easily back into his usual routine. It had taken the edge off, but the overwhelming need was still there in the back of Izzy’s mind, a persistent buzzing that refused to go away. 

The crew gave him a wide berth, for which Izzy was grateful. He’d been forbidden from doing anything strenuous, which eliminated most of his duties. Instead, he spent most of the day taking inventory, checking and rechecking the supplies so he’d know what was needed when they reached Ocracoke. He took his meals in his room, the only interaction with the crew a curt nod and quiet “Thanks” to Roach. 

Some part of Izzy expected Ed or Bonnet to check up on him. To ask how he was doing or offer… something. Instead, they kept their distance like the rest of the crew, and Izzy didn’t know what the fuck to make of that. They’d been so diligent in their care for the last eight days, and now they were nearly avoiding him. Occasionally, he’d look up to find one or both of them staring at him from across the deck, but they never made any move to come closer. Izzy had expected them to ease off, at least a bit, but to completely ignore him threw him off balance, and he struggled to keep himself upright the same way he had in the days after he’d lost his toe. 

Desire, confusion, frustration, and outright anger muddled together, and by the time the sun set, Izzy was so full of restless energy that he couldn’t stay still for more than a few minutes. He made his evening rounds, checking and double checking their course with Buttons, before heading back to his cabin. With no windows and only a small lantern for light, it seemed to close in around him. Izzy tugged at his necktie, which felt too tight. Ed had given his ring back the day before, and he slid it carefully off, then opened the box beside his bed to deposit it for safekeeping. He frowned as he looked down into the box. There was something… off about it, though Izzy couldn’t put his finger on what, exactly. Edward knew better than to go through his things, and while he didn’t necessarily trust Bonnet, Izzy didn’t think Ed would let him. Shrugging the feeling off, he dropped the ring inside and replaced the lid, then stripped down to his shirt and trousers. Briefly, he considered locking the door and shoving his hand down his smalls, but that wasn’t what he really wanted. 

What he really wanted was silk sheets, and cloud-soft pillows, and a ridiculously impractical fireplace. Fuck. Not even two weeks and he’d started to turn soft. He hated it. Hated how much he craved the way he practically sank into the mattress and the warmth of the water in Bonnet’s impractical tub. With a growl, he pushed off the cot and strode from the room. 

Izzy heard Bonnet’s voice, pitched higher than normal, even before he reached the deck. Just as he’d hoped, the entire crew was gathered for story time, Bonnet perched on the capstan with Ed leaned against his leg. No one seemed to notice as he made for the captains’ cabin. They were too enraptured by the fairy tale, something about a miller’s apprentice and a cat, which, of course, had sent Frenchie on yet another witch-related tangent. Normally, the ensuing debate would have irritated Izzy, but tonight, it was a welcome distraction. He slipped through the door with ease and let out a sigh of relief. The absurd nightly bonding ritual that Bonnet insisted on lasted about an hour, sometimes more, and since Bonnet had only just started, that gave him plenty of time. 

Perhaps, on some level, he should have felt ashamed for what he was about to do, but given that Izzy had spent the better part of a week and a half confined to Edward and Bonnet’s bed with little more to do than imagine all the depraved things that took place there, the only shame he felt was in regards to his own desire for nice, soft things. He shoved that aside and set to work on his waistcoat and shirt, letting them drop to the floor beside the bed. It would have been safer to leave them on, but he’d already come this far. Might as well indulge a little more. The rest of his clothing joined the pile in short order, and he slipped beneath the sheets, letting out a quiet hum of pleasure at the slide of silk across his skin. 

He settled back against the pillows and let his eyes close. No one had ever accused Izzy of having an active imagination—or an imagination at all, for that matter—so for a moment, he just touched himself, running his hands along his chest, tweaking a nipple, stroking his sides. It felt good, and his body responded in turn. Goosepimples raised along his skin, and heat pooled at the apex of his thighs as he allowed his thoughts to wander. His dreams of late had been especially sexual in nature, so Izzy focused on what had happened in them as he continued to touch and tease. 

Ed slides his hand up Izzy’s sternum to wrap around his neck, squeezing just enough that every inhale drags in his throat. He tilts his head back, giving Edward more access to take what he wants—what he needs—nothing more than a vessel for his captain’s pleasure. At the end of the bed, Stede rubs broad circles along Izzy’s thighs, taunting him as brushes just against his folds before retreating. Izzy arches off the bed, unable to stop himself from whining, wordlessly pleading for more. A low chuckle splits the silence as Ed looks down at him, his eyes dark with desire. 

“Are you going to be good for us?” he purrs. 

Izzy’s voice is raspy as he answers. “Yes, captains.” 

Sinking deeper into the fantasy, Izzy copied Stede and Edward’s movements, his breath catching both from his restricted air supply and the trickle of wetness between his legs. He’d given up trying to figure out when and why Stede had become a fixture in his dreams. There was nothing he could do to change it, and so long as he maintained his composure and treated Stede with the same contempt he always did, he could indulge with minimal self-loathing. He wasn’t sure if that self-loathing had increased or decreased since Stede had made it his personal mission to nurse Izzy back to health. Much like his change in feelings about the man, it had left him more than a bit off kilter. Those thoughts did nothing to help his arousal, so he ignored them, turning his attention back to his desires. 

Stede pins him to the bed as he strokes Izzy’s cock between the V of his fingers, lazy movements meant to torment, rather than bring him off. For all that Izzy derides him for being weak, he forgets sometimes how solid Stede actually is, the muscles he’d toned during the weeks spent trying to get back to Ed. 

“Like that, do you? Being held down and forced to take what we give you?” Stede asks, his voice pitched deeper than usual. It’s clear he’s just as affected by this as Izzy. 

Words are beyond him now, with Ed’s palm still resting against his throat, but he manages to nod, which seems to suffice. He’s rewarded with a slap against his hole, and he grinds his teeth to keep from shouting. 

Izzy let out a strangled groan as the wet sound filled the room. It stung and ached, the tender flesh pulsing. He stroked his fingertips through the slick, spreading it around his entrance, his wiry hair soaked with the evidence of his overwhelming need. Working his thumb up and down the length of his shaft, he mentally replaced his hand with Stede’s. Two thick digits breached him, and he spread his legs even further, heels digging into the mattress as Stede fucked him. 

Soft lips brush against his, and Izzy opens, letting Edward in. Ed kisses like a pirate, greedy, taking everything Izzy has to give him and then some. It leaves him breathless, his head spinning as Ed matches the pace of Stede’s fingers with the thrusts of his tongue inside Izzy’s mouth. A hand paws at his chest—Ed’s, if the calluses are anything to go by—and blunt nails pinch his nipple. 

Turning his head to the side, Izzy bit down on the pillow next to him letting it muffle his cry of pleasure and pain. He was close, so fucking close. It wouldn’t take much to send him over the edge. Instead, he slowed his movements, his entire body trembling from the effort. Faintly, he could still hear fragments of conversation on deck, which meant the crew were likely still enjoying their fairy stories. Izzy wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but it couldn’t have been more than half an hour. The captains wouldn’t be back for a while, yet. 

A shiver ran through him as he slid a third finger inside himself. They would have no idea what he’d done. He’d slip out the door as the rest of the crew were saying their goodnights and Stede and Ed would be none the wiser. 

“Think we should let him come, Ed?” Stede asks, though he doesn’t take his eyes off Izzy. They’re dark with lust, and Izzy can feel the hard line of Stede’s cock against the inside of his thigh. His mouth waters at the thought of it inside of him—his mouth, his hole, his arse. 

Edward smirks and reaches up to tap Izzy’s cheek, too hard to be anything other than a soft slap. “What do you think, Iz? You think you’ve earned it?” 

“Please,” Izzy whispers. He knows better than to say one way or another. His captains decide whether he’s been good enough.

“Alright, then. Come for us, Israel.”

He rubbed frantically at his cock, pistoning his fingers in and out as his toes curled. A litany of pleas and curses, punctuated by Edward and Stede’s names, tumbled out of him, until he was reduced to grunts and moans. Bucking off the bed, Izzy bit his lip to keep from screaming, and the coppery tang of blood hit his tongue. Everything in him seized, his body clamping down around his fingers, as his orgasm crested. He felt as though he was being turned inside out with pleasure as cum gushed from his hole, soaking his hand and the sheets below. The aftershocks seemed like they would never end, and by the time he collapsed back against the pillows, Izzy’s muscles twitched and spasmed. He struggled to slow his breathing, completely and utterly spent.

A few minutes. That was all he needed, and then he’d set himself to rights. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do about the sheets. Those were a sopping wet mess, but there was a chance he could sneak them into the laundry. Granted, Izzy would need to find a fresh set, first. Knowing Bonnet, they were probably stashed in some hidden linen closet that could only be accessed by picking up the right bottle of cologne. He flung his arm over his eyes, heart pounding in his ears. The wet spot underneath him was quickly growing cold, so he’d have to move soon. Before he could, the door opened, and he froze. 

“Izzy?”

“What about hi— What the fuck, Iz?”

He was so very fucked. 

Chapter Text

Do you want it? Do you want anything I have? - Richard Siken, Wishbone

No one moved. No one breathed. Stede couldn’t look away from the sight in front of him. A thin sheen of sweat clung to Izzy’s skin, and his face and chest were flushed. His hair was a mess, sticking up in places and falling forward on others. The bandages around his abdomen had been removed around the same time Izzy had returned to his own cabin, leaving him entirely bare from the waist up, the most unclothed Stede had seen him since the day of the raid, although that hardly counted. Judging by the pile of clothing by the bed, he was equally as naked below the covers as he was above. Stede’s cock stirred at the thought, but now was hardly the time. 

“Israel—”

“Izzy, what the fuck?” Ed demanded, pushing past Stede. 

The sheer terror in Izzy’s expression quelled whatever lust had started to build. He looked like he was going to pass out or vomit or piss himself. Possibly all three. His eyes were wild and so wide that Stede could see the whites of them, even from halfway across the room. 

Stede took Ed by the arm before he could go any further. “Perhaps it might be better if you lowered your voice.”

Ed’s expression was mutinous. “Izzy, what the fuck?” he hissed. 

“Not quite what I meant,” Stede said. He turned his attention back to their first mate. “Would you mind explaining what you’re doing in our bed?”

“Yes.”

Oh. Well that wasn’t what Stede had expected, though he probably should have. He pressed his lips into a thin line and held up a hand when Ed let out a snarl. Izzy might not answer their questions, but he was far more likely to obey their orders. 

“You spent over a week trying to get out of it. In fact, you re-opened your wound to avoid staying here. So let’s try again.” Stede’s tone was firm, his back rigidly straight. “Explain yourself. Now.”

Izzy jerked like he’d been slapped, and his fingers tightened as he clenched the duvet. They were shiny and wet, and— Stede bit back a whimper at the realization of what, exactly, he’d done in their bed.

“I— Edward?”

“Your captain gave you an order, mate,” Ed said coldly.

Another shudder worked through Izzy, and he dropped his gaze. “I thought… You normally take longer when you read to the crew.” 

“Frenchie and Black Pete got into an argument over the cat in the story, so I thought it best if we cut it short tonight. That is your explanation for why Edward and I are back early. You, on the other hand, still have yet to give us an explanation for your presence in our cabin.” 

There was something satisfying about watching the deep flush spread across Izzy’s skin. “Please,” he whispered. “Just let me leave.” 

“No, I don’t believe we will.” Stede glanced over at Ed, who nodded in confirmation. The thought of having a conversation like this seemed silly, though, and more than a little unfair. “You may, however, use the en suite to wash before we have our talk.”

Izzy looked horrified, but he seemed to understand there was no escaping the situation. “Fine.”

Crossing his arms, Stede raised an eyebrow. “Try again.”

“Yes, Captain.” The words sounded like they were wrenched out of him. 

“Better. Go on, then.”

Stede thought about watching as Izzy climbed out of the bed and made his way to the en suite, but there were certain boundaries he wasn’t willing to cross without Izzy’s permission. Instead, he turned away. Ed continued to stare at Izzy for a few seconds, but eventually he put his back to him, as well. It took every ounce of Stede’s willpower not to peer over his shoulder at the shuffling that came from behind them. Only once the not-so-secret door was slammed shut did he allow himself to face the bed again. Izzy’s clothing was gone, and the sheets were pushed to the far side of the mattress. 

“Should we…?”

“Yeah, we’re definitely changing those,” Ed said. 

As he approached the bed, Stede realized that the sheets were soaked through to the mattress. “Goodness. Is it always this, er, much?”

Ed smirked. “If you treat him right.” 

The memory of what they’d done in the brig sent a shiver through Stede. It was all too easy to imagine Izzy beneath him, his eyes glazed over and his lips parted. What had Izzy been thinking about as he touched himself? For that matter, how had he touched himself? Had he—

“Stede?” Ed was staring at him expectantly. 

“Hmm?”

“The spare sheets.” Judging by his tone, it wasn’t the first time Ed had asked for them. 

“Maybe we should let it air out for a bit,” Stede said, taking in the large wet patch. “Really, he might have at least put a towel down first.”

“I don’t think that was a priority, love.” 

“Clearly not.” 

While Ed carried the sheets to a basket in the corner where they kept their dirty clothing and linens, Stede walked over to the sideboard that held their private store of alcohol. He selected a decanter of brandy and poured three generous glasses. They were going to need it for the conversation ahead. 

The door to the auxiliary wardrobe and en suite opened, and Izzy hovered at the edge of the room. He was fully clothed, every button fastened and every lace tied, but there was something missing. Something off about him. His ring, Stede registered after a moment. Both the ring and the necktie were missing. Aside from the few days the ring had spent on Ed’s pinkie, Stede couldn’t remember a time he’d seen Izzy without them. Izzy had always been careful with those two particular items, so the fact that he wasn’t wearing them now had to be intentional. He’d come to their cabin purposely to pleasure himself. 

Rather than let on that he knew, Stede kept his face neutral and moved toward the sofa in front of the fireplace, carrying two of the three tumblers. He held one out to Izzy. 

“I thought it might be nice to have a drink,” he said. “Come sit with us.” 

A muscle in Izzy’s jaw twitched, but he crossed the room and took the glass before sitting down heavily in a nearby chair. He gulped down the brandy, draining the glass in a matter of seconds. 

“You’re really meant to sip it,” Stede muttered. They might not have paid for it, but it was still good quality. 

Ed carried the decanter with him as he joined them. “Not now, mate,” he said. He refilled Izzy’s tumbler before sitting beside Stede. 

The murderous expression Izzy wore was a good indication that Ed was right. “I wouldn’t be wasting it if you’d let me leave.”

“I never said you were wasting it, and you should have known we wouldn’t let you go that easily.”

“Edward,” Izzy protested. 

Taking a seat beside Stede, Ed deliberately sipped at his drink. “Not sure what you want me to do, Iz. I’m still pretty fucking confused and a little bit pissed that you rubbed one out in our bed. Especially since we weren’t there to watch.”

Stede spluttered, the alcohol burning his nose. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but it had involved a great deal of easing into the conversation.

Izzy looked between them, as though they’d grown extra heads, and Stede couldn’t even blame him. “What the fuck?”

“I think what Edward meant to say was—”

“Nah, I said what I meant to say.” How did Ed manage to appear so calm when Stede felt like his heart was going to escape through his throat?

Izzy’s mouth worked, but no sound came out. It was as though he had been rendered completely incapable of speech. Stede had seen him in a similar state before, though he’d at least been able to utter a few unintelligible syllables and fragments of words. This time, he seemed stunned into silence.

“Alright, then.” Stede hoped that an explanation would help put Izzy at ease. “What I would like to say is that Ed and I find you attractive, and, well, you’re not entirely subtle when it comes to your own feelings about Ed, although I must say I could do with a bit more clarity regarding m—”

“You don’t know a fucking thing,” Izzy snarled. He knocked back his brandy, and Stede’s eyes were drawn to the way his throat worked as he swallowed, the bird on his neck seeming to take flight. “I’m not— I don’t— You can’t just leave things the fuck alone.”

“Iz.” Ed’s voice pitched low, a warning. 

It went unheeded. “It wasn’t enough for you to prance back like you’d done nothing wrong. Wasn’t enough that you have Edward talking about his feelings and fucking you whenever you want. It wasn’t even enough that I took a fucking bullet for you. You couldn’t leave me with a single scrap of dignity, could you?” 

“Izzy!”

Shame and anger surged inside him like waves in a storm. “I’m well aware that you have been shot, not me,” he said coldly. “I also know that you didn’t take that fucking bullet for me. You took it because as much as you hate me, you love Edward more.” 

He’d been stupid to hope that this thing between them, whatever it was, might actually work, Stede thought, blinking back tears. Whatever Izzy had been thinking of as he touched himself, Stede most certainly hadn’t been a part of it, and he’d been a fool to think otherwise. Likely, Izzy had used Ed and Stede’s bed out of spite, nothing else. 

“I don’t.” The words were so soft that Stede almost didn’t hear them. 

Beside him, Ed inhaled sharply. “Don’t what? You don’t love me?”

“No, that’s—” Izzy shook his head and looked at Stede. “I don’t… hate you.”

“There’s no need to lie just because Ed’s here. You won’t be thrown in the brig again for being honest.” His face burned at the memory of Ed taking him, the way they had both imagined Izzy as they came. 

“It’s not a fucking brig if the door locks from the inside,” Izzy said, rolling his eyes. “But I’m not lying. You have my word. That means something to your lot, doesn’t it?”

“It does.” 

Not that it necessarily meant anything to Izzy. More than likely, it was just wishful thinking, but Stede found that he believed him. There was a vulnerability to Izzy that he’d never seen before. His shoulders were hunched, and he traced his finger around the rim of his glass as he stared at the carpet in front of the sofa where Ed and Stede were seated. He swayed ever so slightly, and there was a flush to his cheeks, despite the unlit fireplace. Oh. Izzy wasn’t entirely sober. Perhaps this conversation would be better had later, but Stede found he couldn’t bring himself to suggest it. This was likely the only chance they would get to actually talk instead of shouting at one another or sulking or making assumptions.

“I don’t understand,” Stede continued at last. “You’ve always hated me.” 

Izzy sneered, but there was something off about it. “Like you haven’t felt the same.”

“I haven’t actually.” The corners of his lips twitched. “If you must know, I enjoyed having a nemesis at first. Then after everything happened, for a time, I did hate you.” Ed shifted beside him, and Stede put a steadying hand on his thigh. “For my part, at least, I tried to put all that aside after I came back. We had our unspoken truce, and that was that. It didn’t matter that you still hated me because we stayed out of each other’s way.”

“Just told you I didn’t hate you,” Izzy muttered. 

Ed nudged his shoulder and smirked. “See? What’d I say?” 

“Not biting hard enough to draw blood isn’t an indicator of hatred,” Stede huffed. 

“You… talked about me?” Izzy asked, blinking slowly.

“Well, yes—”

“‘Course we did—”

“Why?” The question held a tinge of panic. 

“Because I was trying to understand you! You let me help you some days, and others you wanted me as far away as possible. You let me wash you and told me what was bothering Ed, even though you didn’t have to, but then you bit me and spat at me and belittled anything I tried to do to make you feel more comfortable. And all the while, we were… I was…” He turned to Ed. If he were only confessing his feelings, there would be no hesitation. But Ed had been so spooked the first time Stede had brought up the possibility that he was in love with Izzy. 

Ed covered Stede’s hand with his own and squeezed gently, though he didn’t take his eyes off Izzy. “We’ll tell you ours if you tell us yours. Why were you rubbing one out in our bed when you have your own cabin? Awful big risk,” he said pointedly.

Sighing, Izzy pinched the bridge of his nose. “Don’t make me say it.”

“Alright then.” Ed shrugged. “Answer one question for me. Just one. When you were lying in our bed, your hand around your throat, fucking yourself with your fingers until you made a mess of our sheets, were you thinking only of me? Or were you thinking about me and Stede?”

Stede’s cock ached, the fabric of his breeches tighter across the crotch than it had been. Had Izzy really done that to himself, or had Edward guessed? He shivered as he remembered Ed squeezing his neck, the way his breath had hitched, every inhale taking slightly more effort than the last. No, Ed didn’t need to guess how Izzy got himself off. He knew exactly what Izzy liked. 

As the silence stretched on, Stede wondered if Izzy would answer the question at all. When he did, his voice was so soft Stede had to read his lips. 

“Both.”

The empty tumbler dropped to the carpet with a loud thud, and Izzy jumped to his feet, wavering for a moment before regaining his balance. 

“Israel—”

“I have to… I…” His gaze darted between Ed and Stede, as though searching for something, then he turned and fled from the cabin.

Chapter Text

I’ll be your slaughterhouse, your killing floor - Richard Siken, Wishbone

“Well,” Stede said, pouring himself another glass of brandy. “I can’t say I saw that one coming.” 

Ed snorted mid-swallow, alcohol stinging his nostrils. His eyes watered, but he grinned in spite of the pain. “Phrasing, mate.” 

“Wha— Really? This is a serious issue and that’s the part you focus on?”

Shrugging, Ed wiped at his face and sat the tumbler down on the table beside him. “I know it’s serious. Doesn’t mean I can’t have a little fun, though. I mean, he did just come in our bed.”

Stede shifted to look back at the sleeping nook, and Ed didn’t miss the shiver that ran through him. “He did.”

They’d need a towel to soak up the mess Izzy had made before they attempted to put fresh sheets down, but there were more important matters at hand right now. Namely what Izzy had done and the way they’d all three reacted to it. Ed had assumed at first that Izzy meant it as… well, he didn’t exactly know, but it wasn’t anything good. A way of getting even for making him sleep in the same bed where Ed and Stede fucked, maybe. The shame and embarrassment and horror in Izzy’s eyes had betrayed him, and Ed knew Izzy hadn’t been acting out of spite. He’d wanted them, just as they wanted him. And the way Stede had responded, so firm and unyielding… Ed’s prick had definitely taken interest. 

“He thought of us. Both of us.” Ed hadn’t been lying when he said he was a little pissed he hadn’t been there to see it.

“I didn’t expect that,” Stede confessed. “I still can’t believe he doesn’t hate me.”

“Tried to tell you. You didn’t want to listen.”

“What was I supposed to think? He didn’t exactly give me any reason to think otherwise, and don’t bring up the severity of his bite like it’s supposed to mean something.”

“It does mean something to Izzy,” Ed pressed. It wasn’t Stede’s fault he didn’t understand. The rest of the crew—except for Jim—were more than happy to express how they were feeling at any given moment. “He can’t talk about shit like this. You saw what he was like tonight.” 

“You don’t think that might have had something to do with the way you described, in detail, how he touched himself, even though you might not have been right?” Stede asked. 

Ed huffed. “I know I was right.” 

“Not the point.”

He understood that, but he couldn’t let Stede think he was just guessing at what Izzy had been doing. After all this time, he still knew what Izzy liked. What he needed. Ed also knew the things Izzy would never admit he wanted. Why else would he have come to their bed, with its cloudlike mattress and silk sheets? Izzy could just as easily have fantasized about the both of them in his own bed, but he had risked getting caught for the slightest bit of softness. 

And then he’d bolted as soon as Ed had stated with absolute certainty how Izzy got himself off. Fuck, maybe Stede was right. Usually, Ed knew exactly how far he could push Izzy. He’d toed the line so many times that it was as familiar to him as his tattoos. Apparently that line had shifted at some point, and Ed’s entire world shifted with it, leaving him off balance.

Sighing, he stared at the chair where Izzy had sat. “We never talked about it. Any of it. I don’t know if either of us knows where to start.” 

“Why don’t you tell him how you feel?” 

“You really think he’d take it well?” Ed asked, raising a brow.

Stede’s face was filled with exasperation. “I think you’ve done everything you possibly can to avoid telling him. He deserves to hear that you want him for more than just a fuck, Edward.”

Guilt and shame squirmed like snakes in his belly. “Yeah.” He scrubbed a hand across his face. “Yeah, no, you’re right. I need to fix this.” 

Reaching across the sofa, Stede took his hand and squeezed gently. “I’ll be here for you when you get back.”

It was already late, but Ed couldn’t bring himself to tell Stede to go to bed. Besides, they needed to put clean sheets on it first, and the mattress would take a while to dry. He returned the squeeze, then pulled away. “Thanks.” 

“Ed?” 

He stopped, halfway to the door. “Hmm?”

A small smile tugged at Stede’s lips. “If anything happens with him tonight—not that I’m saying it will—but if it does, I won’t be upset. Just tell me about it when you come back.”

“I’m just going to talk to him.” It wasn’t like he had any secret motive in visiting his first mate’s cabin. 

“I know. Now go on before he goes to sleep.” 

Ed didn’t point out that Izzy probably wouldn’t find rest any time soon after everything that had happened tonight. Instead, he left the cabin and headed below deck. The rest of the crew seemed to be sleeping, but Ed knew better than to think he wouldn’t be spotted. That was fine. Let them talk. He had more important matters to deal with. 

Rather than barging in, Ed knocked when he reached Izzy’s door. As captain, he would have been well within his rights to enter without asking. This wasn’t a matter between captain and first mate, though. This was Ed and Izzy, and as blurry as that distinction could be, this time, it needed to be crystal fucking clear.

The door opened, revealing an exhausted and wary Izzy. He was still fully dressed, down to his boots, though his neck was still bare, the tie and ring likely tucked away in the box beside his bed. 

“What do you want, Edward?” he asked, resigned. 

“Can I… Can I come in?” 

Izzy shrugged. “It’s your ship.”

“Technically, it’s Stede’s ship,” Ed pointed out. 

“Doesn’t matter. You’re my captain.” 

It shouldn’t have hurt, hearing those words, but his chest ached. “And this is your room. I’m not just gonna—” 

Except he had. Out of his mind with grief and rage, he’d violated the one place Izzy felt safe on the ship. He’d assaulted him in his own bed, maimed him in his sleep. And when Izzy had been lying in the cabin Ed shared with Stede, fighting off fever and the threat of infection, this was where Ed had retreated. Once again, he’d stolen Izzy’s space, taking comfort that wasn’t offered. 

Izzy sighed and opened the door wider. “Get in. No sense in doing this where anyone could see.”

The room was almost exactly as it had been when Ed was last inside. He hovered, unsure where to sit, until Izzy huffed and dragged him by the wrist over to the cot. Izzy’s hand was warm, and Ed longed to cover it with his own. Before he could, it was gone, and Izzy sat on the bed next to him. 

“You didn’t answer my question.”

Ed knew he hadn’t. Reaching beside him, he grabbed Izzy’s pillow and wrapped his arms around it. “You ran out on us, mate.” 

Emotions flickered across Izzy’s face so quickly Ed could barely identify them—anger, embarrassment, hurt. “Did you actually think I would stay and let you and Bonnet have a laugh at my expense?”

“We weren’t laughing at you.” His fingers tightened, digging into the down stuffing. Had their relationship really deteriorated so much that Izzy couldn’t see how much Ed wanted him, or did he refuse to see reason when it came to Stede? 

Izzy stared at the wall in front of him. “Don’t lie to me, Edward. Not— Not about this.”

“Oh, Iz,” Ed whispered. “How do I fix this? Us?”

“There isn’t an ‘us.’ There hasn’t been an ‘us’ in years. Never really was one, anyway.” 

“Why?” His voice broke on the word, and he tucked his chin behind the pillow. The times they’d fucked might not have been intimate in the same way he was with Stede, but they had always been Ed and Izzy. Blackbeard and his loyal first mate. “What did I do? Why did you stop?” 

“I couldn’t.” 

Ed waited for him to continue, to explain what had been so terrible about the times they’d fucked that Izzy couldn’t even bring himself to tell Ed why. The explanation didn’t come, though, and Ed’s stomach twisted as he considered the possibilities, each worse than the last, until he reached the one that nearly made him dry heave. 

“Izzy,” he said, forcing the nausea back down, “did you want it? All the stuff we did back then? I didn’t… Tell me I didn’t—”

“Wh—” Izzy finally turned to face him, confusion shifting into a look of horror. “Of course I fucking wanted it. You think I stopped because I didn’t want you?” 

A flash of anger surged through him like lightning. “What am I supposed to think? The last time I asked, you said no. I thought you’d be up for it later, but you never… you never offered.” 

“Don’t make me say it.” His voice sounded wrong. From anyone else, it would have sounded like begging, but Ed knew that Izzy Hands didn’t beg. At least, not when he wasn’t underneath Ed. 

He hadn’t even begged when they’d been captured by a Dutch ship, and the captain had threatened to lash Ed to the mast and whip him until he couldn’t stand. Izzy had stepped in front of Ed, chin raised in defiance, and demanded the captain take him, instead. Izzy hadn’t pled for mercy as the bosun brought the cat down time and time again. Ed had, though. He’d screamed until his voice gave out, and when they escaped, he had stayed by Izzy’s side, tending to his back as it threatened to turn septic. If they could survive that, surely they could make it through whatever was happening now. Even if whatever was happening included putting all the things they’d never had to talk about into words.

“How can I make you tell me when I don’t know what you’re not saying?” 

Izzy licked his lips, a crease between his brows, but he didn’t answer the question. “You never asked me after that.”

“Didn’t think you wanted me to. Every time we fucked, we went longer in between.”

“It wasn’t like you didn’t have others in your bed,” Izzy said petulantly.

Ed blinked. “Is that what this is about? You were mad I got off with other people? Christ, Iz, you took shore leave just the same as I did.”

“I never went to the brothels.”

Had he not? Ed hadn’t payed attention enough to refute it. Still, Izzy hadn’t said anything about fucking other crew members. “You can’t tell me you didn’t fool around Jack. I was there.” 

“I know you were! Why the fuck do you think I let him fuck me in the first place?”

He couldn’t have heard Izzy right. “What?”

Izzy sagged, every ounce of fight leaving him. “You and Jack were buggering, and I knew he wanted me. We weren’t fucking as much, so…” He shrugged.

The pieces were falling into place, but Ed still couldn’t see the whole picture. “You had a threesome with me and Jack because you missed me fucking you? Then why the hell were you the one to end things?”

“I liked it too much.” Each word sounded like it had been forced out of him. “The sex, the pain, all of it. I knew I wasn’t special or anything. It’s not like I thought I was the only one you were with. But it wasn’t casual for me, and I couldn’t keep pretending it was. Not with you. Easier just to stop so it didn’t hurt as much.” 

Oh. Everything made sense, now, in the worst possible way. 

Dropping the pillow, Ed reached out and cupped Izzy’s cheek, tracing the X under his eye. “No, Iz. Izzy, hey. You’ve got it all wrong, mate. You’ve always been special.” 

“Don’t—” Izzy flinched under his touch.

“I mean it.”

“You fucked half the crew. Sam Bellamy wouldn’t shut up about it for weeks.”

“Yeah, but we never did the things I did with you.” He shivered, remembering just how beautifully Izzy submitted to him. “Sex with other people was good. Fun, even, but it was just a way to get off without having to use my own hand. You… you let me use you. My Hands. You trusted me so goddamn much. Did anything I asked you to, in and out of bed. Do you know how fucking rare that is?”

“Above all else,” Izzy said quietly, “loyalty to your captain.” 

“Yeah, but it wasn’t just loyalty, was it?” He stroked Izzy’s jaw with his thumb and felt him trembling underneath the touch. “Should have seen it then. Should have told you.”

“Edward—”

“I love you.” 

A wounded noise seemed to claw its way out of Izzy’s chest. “You don’t— You can’t—”

“I can and I do. It fucking terrifies me, how much I feel, and I didn’t understand it at first. Didn’t know what was going on in my head, but now I get it. I love you. Enough to kill a man because he tried to take you away from me.”

Izzy swallowed, and Ed felt it under his palm. “I’ve killed for you for twenty-five years.”

“I know,” Ed murmured, realizing what he was trying to say. “I know you do.” 

Wrapping his other arm around Izzy’s waist, Ed gently guided him closer, until Izzy’s forehead landed on his shoulder. The angle was off, since they were sitting beside each other on the bed, but Ed didn’t care. Finally, finally, he was hugging his first mate. The first man he’d ever really loved, even if he hadn’t realized it until a few weeks ago. He felt the rise and fall of Izzy’s chest against him and closed his eyes, all the tension that had been bubbling inside him releasing at once. 

“We never knew how to do it right,” he said against Izzy’s hair. “You killed for me, and I hurt you when you needed it. It wasn’t a bad thing. Still isn’t. But that’s all we ever let it be for so long.”

“Don’t you fucking dare. Bonnet got all in your head and now you’re telling me it wasn’t right?” 

Ed let out a frustrated growl. “That wasn’t what I said and you know it. You think I did all those things to you because I’m some kind of saint? I’m selfish as fuck, man, I did them because I wanted to. Because watching you break apart was a gift. But you never let me put you back together.” Everything they had had been forged in violence, but god, Ed just wanted to be tender sometimes. 

“I didn’t need it,” Izzy protested. 

“Maybe I did! You ever think of that?” Judging from his silence, Ed guessed he never had. “I told you, I’m selfish. I want all of it. The part where I hurt you and the part where I take care of you.”

“What about Bonnet?”

Remembering their romp in the brig, Ed huffed a laugh. “Mate, you have no idea how much he’d like to fuck you. And after your little stunt in our cabin, you can’t honestly tell me you don’t want him to.”

Izzy squirmed against him. “I’ve thought about it.” 

“Yeah, figured that much when you told us you got off to both of us.” Ed nipped the shell of his ear just to feel him move again. He wasn’t prepared for the low moan that rumbled through Izzy’s chest, and his cock stirred in response. “Izzy…” 

As he shifted, Ed held him tighter, but Izzy only pulled away enough to look up at him. His expression was more unguarded than Ed had seen in years. Slowly, he reached up, scarred hand caressing Ed’s face. The tiniest bit of fear flickered in his eyes, and Ed ached, remembering the last time Izzy had touched him like this. Things were different now, though, and Ed was going to make sure Izzy knew that. He closed the distance between them, Ed’s mouth hovering a hairsbreadth above Izzy’s as he hesitated, giving him a chance to back out. Izzy didn’t take it. 

Chapter Text

Do I have to stick my tongue in your mouth like the hand of a thief, like a burglary
like it’s just another petty theft? - Richard Siken, Wishbone

Ed’s lips were warm as they brushed against Izzy’s, and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe. How many times had he thought about—fantasized about, dreamed about—this? The kiss was softer than he was used to, caressing instead of claiming. He tried to deepen it, to nip at Ed’s mouth and goad him into something familiar, but Ed slid a hand into his hair and held him with such a tender firmness that Izzy couldn’t do anything other than let it happen.

Years ago, when he’d first started sailing, Izzy had nearly drowned. He’d never sailed through a storm before, and while trying to secure the rigging, a gust of wind had knocked him into the water. The impact knocked his breath out of him, and his lungs burned as wave after wave dragged him down into the depths of the unforgiving ocean. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t orient himself, his head spinning. For what seemed like an eternity, Izzy thought he would die, just another casualty at sea. And then there’d been an arm around him, hauling him back toward the ship. All he could do was trust that whoever was holding him wouldn’t let go. 

The same terror he’d felt then gripped him now, but so did the trust. Edward’s moods and interests might have been mercurial, but Izzy had never once heard him utter the words ‘I love you’ to anyone but Bonnet. Until now. Ed… loved him. Edward Teach, the most brilliant sailor and amazing man Izzy had ever met, loved him. Was kissing him, touching him so carefully, as though he might break. It felt so right and so wrong all at once, but Izzy was helpless to pull away. 

Instead, he slid one hand into Ed’s hair and cupped his cheek with the other, the stubble of Ed’s jaw rasping against his scarred palm. Tenderness was a foreign concept to Izzy. Even as a child, he’d never had the luxury of gentle touches or soft words. By the time he stowed away on a naval ship in Portsmouth, he’d already experienced more cruelty and loss than some men three times his age, and he’d learned almost immediately that weakness was an invitation for pain and death. This didn’t feel like weakness, though. It felt like staring an oncoming storm, the kind that broke apart ships like children’s toys and had brought him to his knees to vomit or pray time and time again. No matter how secure the vessel, ultimately, it was up to the sea whether they lived or died, and there was a certain freedom Izzy had always found in submitting himself to its whims. 

“You’re shaking,” Ed said against his mouth. 

Was he? He hadn’t realized, had been too focused on the feeling of Edward in his arms, touching him like Izzy imagined he touched Bonnet. Like he deserved to be handled with care and affection. With love. 

“Don’t know how to do this,” he admitted. If Ed would pull his hair, or rake his nails across his skin, or leave bruises where he touched, Izzy would know how to handle it. This, though, was entirely foreign. 

“‘Course you do. It’s no different than anything else we ever did. I give you what I want, and you take it.”

Coming from Ed, it sounded so simple. But then, maybe it was. He’d told Izzy he wanted everything. This was just another part of what Izzy was meant to endure. He let Edward kiss him again, eyes slipping shut as Ed’s tongue brushed against his own, coaxing him to give in. Izzy’s composure didn’t stand a chance against such an onslaught of softness. When Ed eased him down on his back, it was simultaneously familiar and foreign. He spread his legs, and Ed immediately filled the space between them. For a fraction of a second, pain lanced through Izzy’s foot as blood and flesh hit his tongue, but then Ed pressed his lips against Izzy’s neck, and he exhaled slowly. Things were better, he reminded himself. Not back to where they had been. Izzy didn’t know if they ever would be. But they were better. 

“You’re allowed to touch me, too, y’know,” Ed murmured against his skin. 

“You don’t want me to touch you the way I know how.” 

Pulling back, Ed looked down at him, his hair hanging like a curtain separating them from the rest of the world. His gaze was intense, but Izzy couldn’t look away. He’d never been able to. “Then touch me the way you did earlier. The way you always wanted.”

Izzy choked back a noise that sounded wounded to his own ears. How could he explain that he’d never allowed himself to want? That the pain of knowing he’d never truly have Edward the way he wanted always outweighed whatever fleeting pleasure he might find in imagining it? His hands shook as he stroked Ed’s sides the same way he would a spooked animal. But if anyone were the spooked animal, Izzy knew it would be him. 

“Feels good, Iz,” Ed assured. “Just like that. Keep going.” 

He ached at the praise, as though he’d been kicked in the chest. It wasn’t as though Edward had never said those words to him before, but the only times he’d ever heard them were when Ed’s cock was in his mouth or either of his holes. Rather than the soothing tone he was using now, Ed pitched his voice so low it was almost a growl. There was ever any mistaking it for what it was: an order. This didn’t feel like an order. It felt like an invitation. A request. A desire spoken after almost three decades together. 

Izzy panicked. 

He pushed at Ed’s chest, unable to breathe. Ed was too heavy, crushing him against the mattress. The world around him was closing in, his cabin too small, his clothes too tight. Tugging at his shirt, he fought to free it from his trousers, all the while trying to gulp in lungfuls of air that didn’t come. Someone was saying something, but Izzy couldn’t hear it over the ringing in his ears. A sharp sting across his face brought his vision back into focus. 

Ed sat on his heels, a wild, terrified look in his eyes. His hand was raised, and Izzy realized Ed had slapped him. “I’m sorry. You— I didn’t know what to do.” 

“So you slapped me?” He brought his hand up to his cheek, which was a bit warmer than usual. It felt just as good as the caress had.

“Thought it might shock you out of… whatever that was. You were freaking the fuck out, man. All panicky and shit.” 

“I wasn’t panicking,” Izzy protested.

Crossing his arms, Ed raised a brow. “Yeah, ‘cause that was super normal for you. What the hell happened?”

Izzy ran a hand through his hair and tugged at it in frustration. “I don’t fucking know.”

“You really think that’s gonna work on me?”

All the fight left him on a sigh. “No,” he said quietly. “Hoped it would, though.” 

Frowning, Ed reached for him, then let his hand drop. “C’mon, love. Talk to me.” Izzy flinched before he could stop himself, and hurt flashed across Ed’s face. “Izzy?”

Everything he’d wanted for the last twenty-five years was being offered to him now, tenderness and pain so perfectly wielded by the man he’d loved for most of his life, and yet…

“I can’t do this, Edward.” 

Ed recoiled like he was the one who’d been slapped, not Izzy. “It’s too late, isn’t it?” he asked thickly. “I can’t fix this.” 

“No, that’s not— I just— I need time.” 

“For what? I told you. I love you, I know you love me, Stede’s into it, you obviously don’t hate Stede.”

How could someone so brilliant be such an idiot at the same time? “Yeah, that’s… It’s not that simple.”

“Could be.” 

“No it can’t, Ed. Fuck, will you just fucking listen to me?” At least Ed had the decency to look apologetic. “You don’t get to say… that and act like it doesn’t change things.”

“‘Course it changes thi—”

“Shut up! Just shut up and listen for once in your goddamn life! All this time, I’ve— And you— We— Fuck!”

“I know, Iz,” Edward said, wrapping his hand around Izzy’s ankle. The comforting touch burned like a brand.

“No you don’t.” 

And that was the worst part. There’d been a time when they could read each other like the stars. They could navigate each other’s moods and desires so easily that it was second-nature. Words were just a tool like the charts they’d both stopped needing years ago. But their ability to communicate had been obscured for so long that Izzy didn’t know if words or charts would be able to help them find their way again. 

“I can’t be a… a plaything. I’m not just someone you bring into bed when you and Bonnet want to have a bit of fun. With Jack, when we were younger, sure. It was fine. Not ideal, but at least I got to be close to you. I can’t do it again, Ed.” 

Once had been painful enough. It wasn’t that he hadn’t wanted to fuck Jack. Jack was… fine, even if he smelled like rum and stale piss. Everyone did because it was a normal fucking pirate ship, not the floating circus that was The Revenge. But if not for the fact that Ed was there, it wouldn’t have happened, no matter how many times Jack asked. Izzy granted there were a few differences between then and now, namely that he’d never once thought of Jack while he brought himself off, but still, he couldn’t stand the idea of being an occasional treat for Ed and Bonnet. 

“You’re not— That’s not what we want. We don’t want casual. We don’t want a bit of fun. No offense, mate, but if we did, you wouldn’t exactly be our first choice.” The statement rankled, but Ed kept going before Izzy could cut him off. “I mean, sure, we want to fuck you. Think we made that one pretty clear. But we don’t just want that. Please, just—”

Izzy shook his head. “No. Not now. Maybe… maybe eventually, but I can’t do it right now.” 

The things Ed promised sounded far too good to be true, and in Izzy’s experience, such things usually were. He couldn’t let himself believe that he might actually be wanted for something more long-term, because if he did and it turned out not to be the case, that would destroy him. 

“How do we prove it?” Ed asked, his expression so full of longing that Izzy couldn’t look at him. “What can we do to make you see that we want you for more than just a night or two?” 

“I don’t know.” It was better than saying ‘nothing,’ which was how Izzy really felt. Even now, he couldn’t bring himself to hurt Ed like that.

Ed looked like he wanted to protest, but he kept his mouth shut. Instead, he stroked his thumb across Izzy’s ankle bone with such intimacy that Izzy found himself blinking back tears. Why couldn’t it have been like this all along? Why couldn’t Ed have shown him how much he loved him from the start? 

“We’re not gonna give up. I’m not gonna give up. Don’t know what it’s going to take, but I’ll show you. I promise. This one, I’m gonna keep.” Slowly, he lifted his free hand to Izzy’s cheek, and Izzy let him. “Can I kiss you before I go?”

The last vestiges of his resolve broke. “Yeah,” he rasped. He was only human, after all. 

Ed’s lips were as feather-light as they had been the first time they’d kissed tonight, but Izzy could feel how much Ed was holding himself back. He felt all the things that couldn’t be put into words, the yearning, the sorrow, all the lost years between them. He cradled Ed’s jaw in his palm, stroking his thumb across the high cheekbones he’d always loved, memorizing the way Ed felt against him. And then the kiss was over. 

“I’m sorry,” Ed whispered. 

The words held the weight of every single wrong that had been committed between them over their many years together, and Izzy smiled wistfully as he let his hand linger on Ed’s face for as long as possible. 

“I know.” 

Chapter Text

and we keep doing it, keep saying until we get it right… - Richard Siken, Wishbone

The sun had just started to creep above the horizon when Stede made his way onto the deck. Waking early was something of a habit for him, though usually not this early. Ed would be asleep for a few more hours, exhausted by the events of the previous evening. Stede’s chest ached as he remembered the haunted look on Ed’s face when he’d returned from Izzy’s room. The way he’d broken down, sobbing in Stede’s arms as he explained what had happened. Part of him wanted to call the whole thing off. Izzy obviously didn’t want what Ed and Stede were offering. Except, that wasn’t quite right, was it? He did want it. Desperately, from what Ed had conveyed. He just didn’t think they were actually offering it in the first place. 

As Edward slept curled against his chest, tears dampening his nightshirt, Stede had come up with a plan. If Izzy couldn’t believe that his captains wanted him, then he would just have to be proven wrong. It had taken the better part of the night, but by the time he’d fallen asleep, Stede knew exactly what he was going to do. He was going to woo Israel Hands. 

The only flaw was that Stede had never deliberately wooed anyone. His marriage had been arranged, so there had never been any need to court Mary (though in retrospect, a bit of wooing probably wouldn’t have hurt.) With Ed, it had been effortless. He’d fallen in love before he even knew what it felt like, and Ed had been the one to make the first move, in the end. Sure, now that he and Ed were together, he went out of his way to do little romantic things that he knew would be appreciated, but this was different. Izzy wouldn’t care for fresh flowers or fancy cakes with dinner. The list of things Izzy did appreciate was rather small. Hard work was at the top of the list, followed by coffee so black it was hardly worth drinking. 

Which was how Stede found himself carrying a teacup full of coffee across the deck toward Izzy, who stood at the helm. He didn’t know what he’d say once he reached the first mate, but he was sure he’d come up with something. 

“What the fuck do you want, Bonnet?” 

Stede stopped so abruptly he almost sloshed coffee over the side of the cup. “How did you know it was me?”

Izzy snorted derisively. “You’re not exactly quiet. Now what the fuck do you want? Don’t usually see you until fore-noon watch. Edward snore or something?”

Don’t usually see you until fore-noon watch. Well. That was certainly telling. For all he claimed not to care about Stede’s comings and goings, Izzy kept track of his movements. His habits. 

“Couldn’t sleep,” he said. It was only halfway a lie. His sleep had been so fitful that by the time the first bell rang, signaling the beginning of morning watch, he’d given it up as a lost cause. “I thought perhaps you might want to ta—”

“No.”

Stede hadn’t expected any differently, but it was still a bit of a disappointment. “Alright,” he said with a sigh. “Coffee? It’s fresh.”

Izzy eyed the offering warily before taking it. The cup looked out of place in Izzy’s hand, so delicate and fragile. Ornate, cobalt blue flowers decorated the bone-white china, and Stede was struck for a moment by how good Izzy would look in that particular shade.

Rather than immediately drinking, Izzy raised the cup to his nose and sniffed, not the deep inhale of someone savoring the aroma, but shorter, more direct sniffs, as though…

“Honestly, Israel, I didn’t poison it.” 

Izzy shrugged. “Habit. Should have known better than to think you would, though.” The smile that had begun to pull at the edges of Stede’s mouth promptly died as he added, “You’d have to know how to poison someone first. Probably end up dosing yourself instead.”

Stede rolled his eyes. “I’m trying to be nice to you, but you’re making it very difficult right now.” 

“Then stop trying. I never asked you to.”

Of course Izzy was going to be defensive about this. Ed had told him the night before that Izzy didn’t believe they were serious about bringing him into the relationship. That he thought they just wanted the occasional fun with him as nothing more than a casual partner. It would take a great deal of convincing, but it would be worth it in the end. Hopefully. 

“You know,” he said, “that’s only going to make me try harder. I can be quite determined when I set my mind to something.” 

The perpetual sneer on Izzy’s face dropped, just for a moment. “I know.”

Interesting. Just what was Izzy thinking of to make him look almost… fond? 

“Drink up. Don’t want it to get cold.” 

Immediately, Izzy’s mouth twisted again. Ah, well. It was a start, if nothing else. 

Izzy drained half the cup, tilting his head back, and Stede stared at his neck. He was very quickly becoming obsessed by the way the bird seemed to move every time Izzy swallowed. A vivid image of Izzy, his lips wrapped around Ed’s cock, filled his mind, and he bit his lip, barely suppressing a shudder. 

“Are you having a fucking fit or something?” Izzy asked. 

Stede glanced around. There was no one close enough to overhear. “If you must know, I was thinking about how gorgeous you’d look on your knees for Edward.” 

The color seemed to leech from Izzy’s face. “What the fuck did you just say?”

“I said I was thinking abou—”

“I fucking heard you, you stupid fucking— That— You can’t just—”

“Can’t I?” Stede couldn’t help but smirk at the way he’d flustered the first mate. “I believe I just did. And I enjoyed it, too. I think you would, if you let yourself.”

“Fuck off,” Izzy muttered, holding the cup so tightly that Stede worried it would shatter.

“No. I understand you have your doubts about our intentions, but Ed and I really do want you to— Israel!”

A soft splash came from below as the cup hit the water, and Izzy stared at him in a silent challenge. 

Huffing, Stede put his hands on his hips. “That teacup was one of a complete set, which is surprisingly difficult to find, even onboard the nicer merchant vessels and party boats.”

“We’re fucking pirates, Bonnet.”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t have class!”

One corner of Izzy’s lips tipped up in a satisfied smile. “This coming from the man who doesn’t even own a complete tea set.” 

Part of Stede wanted to shout at Izzy, but a larger part of him knew that wouldn’t be productive. He’d only be giving Izzy what he wanted, and Stede had no intention of starting a fight, especially one that had the very real potential of ending with a sword through his side. Again. Instead, Stede shoved Izzy back against the ship’s wheel and took hold of two of the spokes, caging him in. 

“I know what you’re trying to do,” he said lowly. “You think if you act out just enough, we’ll see we made a mistake. We’ll realize you’re too much trouble. Not worth the effort.”

“Stede—” Izzy’s voice trembled.

“That’s not going to happen.” Stede’s mouth hovered over Izzy’s, so close he could feel every sharp exhale. “No matter how many tantrums you throw or tea sets you destroy, we’re going to keep trying.” 

“Why?” 

The question came out broken, and Stede ached for the man. How long had it been since anyone had shown him tenderness? Had they ever? Given what he knew about Izzy’s history, it was unlikely. 

“Because we want to. And because you want us to.”

“How the fuck do you know what I want?” 

Sliding his knee between Izzy’s legs, Stede nudged against his crotch and was rewarded with a soft moan. He pulled back just enough that Izzy chased after the pressure and smiled slyly. 

“That’s how.”

Before Izzy could come back with some snide remark, Stede turned and walked away, pleased with himself for how he’d handled the situation as well as more than a little turned on. Hopefully Ed would be up by now. Stede wanted to tell him about how well he’d handled Izzy, and then, with any luck, he’d handle Ed just as well. 

Coffee became a ritual between Stede and Izzy. Each morning, Stede slipped out of bed and pressed a soft kiss to Edward’s forehead. He carefully removed a teacup from its place in the basket, then made his way down to the galley to fill it with coffee. And each morning, Izzy would drain the cup in a single swallow, then throw it overboard. On the fifth day, after once again sending the tea cup to its watery resting place, Izzy sighed and scrubbed a hand across his face. 

“How long are you going to keep doing this?” he asked. 

“At least for the next seven days,” Stede replied. “There were a dozen settings in that particular pattern. We picked up another set a few weeks ago, though that one was missing a few pieces.”

“Fuck’s sake,” Izzy muttered. “Don’t you have anything important to be doing?”

Stede’s expression softened. “This is important. At least, it is to me. And before you ask, it’s because you are important to me.” 

“I ruined your precious tea set.” 

The defensiveness in Izzy’s words, along with the implication that came with them, was almost heartbreaking. Reaching out slowly, Stede cupped his cheek. Much to his surprise, Izzy didn’t pull away, though he tensed under the touch.

“You are more precious to me than a tea set, Israel,” he said gently. “Besides, you’re not the only one to throw my belongings off the side of the ship. At least this time I didn’t pay for them.” 

While the loss of his possessions—especially his books—still stung, he’d give them up all over again just to keep Edward in his life. And if losing a few stolen teacups meant he got to show Izzy some affection, it was a trade he’d readily make. 

“I’m not fucking precious, Bonnet.”

Stede frowned and let his hand drop. “Oh. I’m Bonnet again, then?” 

“What?” Izzy looked genuinely confused. 

“The other morning, when I first brought you coffee. You called me Stede.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” 

“I’m not! I backed you up against the ship’s wheel and you called me Stede.” A shiver ran through Izzy, and Stede couldn’t stop his smile as he echoed Izzy’s words from days before. “Are you having a fucking fit or something?” 

“Fuck off.” The words held no bite to them. 

“Israel—”

“Why do you call me that?” 

“Wh— Your name?” 

“No one calls me Israel. Not even Edward.” 

“I… don’t know. I suppose I like the sound of it. Would you rather I not?” Stede asked. 

“Didn’t say that, did I?” Izzy turned to brace himself on the side of the ship, and Stede walked over to join him. Staring out at the ocean, he said, “I don’t know what you want from me.” 

Stede hooked his pinkie across Izzy’s. “Nothing more than you’re willing to give.” He hesitated before adding, “If I’m going about this all wrong, forgive me. I’ve never had to court anyone before.” 

“Do I look like I need to be fucking courted?”

“Yes,” Stede said. “Even if you didn’t, I’d want to do it anyway. And before you ask why, it’s because I enjoy doing nice things for the people I care about, and yes, I’m saying I care about you.” 

Izzy looked over at him, one eyebrow raised. “Finished having a conversation with yourself?”

“Just wanted to make sure I covered everything.” 

“Yeah.” Izzy’s shoulders slumped as he sighed. “Yeah, I think so. Still doesn’t make a bit of fucking sense, but nothing you do ever does.”

“Which part? As you so helpfully pointed out, I explained quite a bit.” 

“The—” he waved a hand vaguely, and Stede missed the contact of their fingers “—caring bit.”

“Oh. I don’t really have an answer for that. It’s not like we get to choose who we care about, after all.” Stede doubted Izzy would choose to care about anyone, if that were the case. Certainly he wouldn’t have pined over Edward as long as he had, and there was no way he’d willingly care for Stede. 

“Too fucking right,” Izzy said quietly, confirming his suspicion. 

They stood in silence, listening to the shriek of gulls and the first stirrings of the ship as crew members woke. It was comfortable, almost companionable. Stede could see himself getting used to this little routine of theirs. He shifted closer until their shoulders were touching. Izzy didn’t move. 

“Crew’s gonna see,” he murmured. 

Stede shrugged. “Does that bother you?” 

“It’s not professional.” 

That wasn’t a yes, but Stede knew how much Izzy cared about professionalism. He put the smallest bit of distance between them and regretted it immediately, but he didn’t miss the way Izzy’s brow unfurrowed as he relaxed. 

“I’m sure you know that Edward and I have dinner in our cabin every Friday,” Stede said.

Izzy nodded. 

“I’d like it if you joined us this week. We can call it a strategic meeting, if you’d prefer, for the sake of professionalism.” 

“We’d have to include Boodhari, since he’s quartermaster,” Izzy pointed out. 

Stede pursed his lips. “Ah. Right.”

“Could just call it dinner.” 

Surely he hadn’t heard that right. Izzy had agreed to dinner without needing to be coerced? “Really?”

Izzy shot him a warning glance. “If you get all weird about it, I’m not coming.”

“Of course! I’m not going to be weird about it. Why would I be weird about it?”

“Dunno. Why are you?”

“I— Oh. Shit. I am, aren’t I?”

“Little bit,” Izzy said with a shrug. 

There was no way Stede was going to ruin his chance by being overly-excited and off-putting. “Alright, I won’t be weird about it starting… now. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go wake Ed.” And tell him that Izzy had agreed to a dinner date with them. 

“Same time tomorrow?” Izzy asked as Stede turned to walk away.

He smiled. “Same time tomorrow.” 

What was the loss of another cup if he could spend the morning with Izzy? 

Chapter Text

but we always win and we never quit, see, we’ve won again - Richard Siken, Wishbone

Ed paused his pacing just long enough to straighten a napkin on the table, then resumed, crossing the cabin to stand in front of the fireplace before walking back again. He glanced at the clock. Three minutes ‘til seven. Knowing Izzy, he’d arrive on the hour, not a moment before or after. But that didn’t stop Ed from going over every possible way this dinner could end. 

The fact that Izzy had agreed to dinner at all was a shock. When Stede had told Ed about the conversation, Ed was sure there was some kind of misunderstanding. More than likely, Izzy had given some noncommittal answer that Stede read into. But Stede reminded him that Izzy had never given a noncommittal anything, and that if he said he was going to come, he would. A conversation with Izzy only confirmed Stede’s assertion. He’d not been able to look Ed directly in the eye as he said he’d agreed to come to dinner, and Ed knew they both understood the significance. This wasn’t just dinner. It was a chance for Ed and Stede to show Izzy they were serious. To give him some of the luxuries he’d always been denied. Which was how Ed found himself obsessing over the menu in the days leading up to it. (He didn’t call it a date. It wasn’t a date. Absolutely not. Just two captains having a meal with their first mate. Totally normal.)

Most of the rich, extravagant foods Stede suggested were out. As much as Ed wanted to shower Izzy with fine things, the life they’d lived before Stede had been a hard one. Izzy wasn’t used to such foods, and likely, he’d either turn his nose up or give himself a stomach ache. In the end, they settled on a hearty chicken pie, roasted potatoes, and a lemon cake. Comforting, but not too far outside the realm of what Izzy knew. 

“You’re going to wear a hole in the floor if you keep that up,” Stede said from his chair in front of the fire.

Ed shot him a halfhearted glare. “Not all of us can be as calm as you.” 

“I assure you, I’m not. But Izzy said he’ll be here, and I highly doubt he’d lie. Especially not to me. He’s made no attempt to hide his true feelings from me in the past.” 

While Ed wanted to protest, Stede was right. Izzy had lied to him before, whether outright or by omission, but he’d always been brutally honest with Stede. Still, that didn’t mean things would go well once he showed up. Izzy’s rejection days earlier continued to sting, and remembering the first mate’s disbelief that they could want anything more than a casual fuck haunted Ed. Not because he didn’t understand why Izzy would think such a thing but rather because he did. This was Ed’s only chance to make things right.

He startled at a knock at the door, hand automatically reaching for the knife that wasn’t at his waist. Stede had advised him against wearing the belt that held his knife and gun. Surprisingly, he hadn’t discouraged Ed from wearing his leathers, not only because it would be more familiar for Izzy but also because he looked ‘rather dashing’ in them. In the end, he’d compromised, wearing one of Stede’s billowy blouses with his leather trousers. 

“Door’s open!” he called.

Stede shot him an exasperated glance, then looked pointedly at the entrance to the cabin. 

“Oh. Right, yeah.” Ed strode across the room and reached for the knob, only to nearly be hit in the face as the door swung open. “Fuck! That’s— I mean— Hey, Iz.” 

Izzy looked… like Izzy. Same black attire, same slick backed hair, same scowl lines that creased his face. But there was a certain hesitance in his expression and movement that was new. He shifted from one foot to another, never meeting Ed’s eyes. His entire bearing was that of a man destined for the gallows, rather than one having dinner with two… whatever they were.

Ed took a small step toward him. “Izzy?”

“Fuck this. Stupid fucking idea,” Izzy muttered, turning to walk away. 

“Wh— Hey, wait. You—” Not even a minute in, and he was already making a mess of this, just like he had before. “Stay. Please. We want you to stay. Made dinner and everything. Well… Roach made it.”

“I…”

“C’mon, it’s just dinner. Gotta eat, right? You don’t even have to talk if you don’t want to.” 

Ed wished he would, though. He’d hoped that they could use tonight as a chance to discuss what they all three wanted. A chance for Ed to assure Izzy that things were different this time, and for Stede to help Izzy understand that he wasn’t just playing along for Ed’s sake. 

Scrubbing a hand across his face, Izzy nodded. “Yeah. Alright, fine. Just dinner.” 

“Okay. Good. That’s… that’s good.” 

Stede’s voice came from behind him. “You know you actually have to let him in the room, if you want him to eat.”

“Hmm? Oh, right. Come in.” Ed ushered him inside the cabin and closed the door, the sound seeming to echo through the room. “We, uh, we figured you might not care for some of the fancy shit, so Roach made a chicken pie.” 

“We?” Izzy raised an eyebrow and looked between Ed and Stede, who’d joined them by the dinner table. 

“Yes, well…” Stede flushed as they took their seats. “I thought it might be best to leave Ed in charge of the menu tonight. I’m particularly fond of this china pattern, you see, and I’d hate to see it thrown overboard.” 

The corner of Izzy’s lip twitched. “Thought you said you liked me more than your fucking china,” he said, spreading his napkin across his lap.

“Actually, what I said was that you were more precious to me than a tea set,” Stede said primly. “There’s a difference.”

Ed blinked. “You fucking what?”

He’d known of Stede and Izzy’s morning coffee ritual, namely because Stede always mourned the loss of another cup when he came back to the cabin. But Stede neglected to tell him that he’d actually come on to Izzy, beyond their initial encounter. Neither man looked at him, Stede flushing as he smiled while Izzy looked a bit constipated. They both remained silent, each apparently waiting to see who would break first. Unsurprisingly, Izzy did.

“Your boyfriend’s been fucking flirting with me,” he said, digging the serving spoon into the chicken pie with a bit more intensity than was warranted. 

Stede rolled his eyes and scooped some potatoes onto his plate. “Please, like you haven’t been doing it right back.”

That couldn’t be true. Izzy didn’t know how to flirt. But then, maybe he was different with Stede than he was with Ed. Given their complicated history, it made sense that Izzy would find flirting with Stede easier. Ed didn’t feel any better about it, though. Once upon a time, that had been him and Izzy, getting each other worked up before finding the closest semi-private nook. He missed it, how easy things had been then, and knowing Izzy and Stede had something that was lost between Ed and Izzy sent a surge of possessiveness through him. What right did either of them have to— No. No. This was good. It was what they were all working toward. Ed wanted Izzy to feel comfortable with them both. 

“Edward?” 

He jerked and looked up at Stede, whose eyebrows were furrowed in concern. “It’s fine,” Ed said gruffly, trying his best to brush off both the feeling and Stede’s worry. 

“It’s not.” Izzy stared at him as though he could see every one of Ed’s thoughts. “You don’t like it, Stede and me having coffee and… the rest.” 

“Iz—”

Dropping his napkin to the floor, Izzy pushed back from the table and stood. “This was a mistake. All of it. He’s yours. I shouldn’t have… I’ll just go.” 

Ed was on his feet before he even registered moving. Gripping Izzy’s wrist, he jerked him back then winced as Izzy stumbled. “Fuck. I— Shit. It’s not… You’re both mine.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Izzy asked, gripping the back of his dining chair to steady himself. 

Stede sighed. “It means he wants us both but he’s still learning how to share. We both are, something I imagine you can understand.”

“I don’t.”

“You do, though. You had to learn how to let go, just a little. To let me love Ed, too.”

Izzy shook his head. “That’s not the same. You and him, you’re… And I’m…” 

“You’re mine,” Ed said quietly. “Have been for over half our lives. Stede’s right. I don’t know how to share you with him, or him with you. I want to, though.” 

“I’m not a fucking toy for you to… to take turns with!”

“Of course you’re not,” Stede said before Ed could respond. “You’d actually have to be fun to be a toy.” 

This was a disaster. He braced himself for Izzy’s retort, keeping an eye on the knife at his waist, but none came. Instead, Izzy snorted. 

“You’ve no idea how fun I can be,” he deadpanned. 

Well then. Maybe the night could be salvaged after all. “Izzy’s loads of fun,” Ed said with a grin. “Used to do shots of rum from my bellybutton. ‘Course, I did shots from his, too.” 

“Edward—”

“Really?” Stede looked utterly fascinated. He stared at Izzy with the same intensity he normally devoted to working a puzzle or plotting a fuckery. 

“It was a long time ago.”

“Still fun. I bet we can find all sorts of new things for you to do with us now. Doesn’t even have to be drinking games. Stede’s not a fan of ‘em.”

“I suppose I could try…”

Izzy shook his head. “No need. I stopped drinking years ago. Ed knows that.” 

“Didn’t think it was my place to share.” 

The memories were a bit hazy, but Ed was fairly sure Izzy had stopped around the time Ed had taken to staying in his cabin for days on end. Even before then, he’d never been much of a drinker. On rare occasions, he’d have a drink or two (or bellybutton shots when he was feeling especially flirty,) but he’d never enjoyed it as much as Ed or Jack had.

“It’s fine,” Izzy said with a shrug. “My dad was a violent drunk who spent what coin we had on alcohol, so we ended up in a workhouse. I didn’t want to be like him. Plus most of the swill on board tasted like piss.” 

“Oh.” Stede glanced at the wine on the table, then something seemed to click in his brain. “Oh! Is that why you seemed out of sorts after the brandy the other night?” 

“Yeah. Not used to drinking that much at once. Wine and ale are alright, but I can’t remember when I last had spirits.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind. Normally, I don’t go for liquor, myself, although I do enjoy a good brandy or scotch on occasion. Which isn’t to say you have to join us—me and Ed. You certainly don’t have to do shots off our bodies. Though, I agree with Ed; I certainly wouldn’t be opposed to finding other ways to have fun.”

Izzy eyed him critically, and Ed stilled, holding his fork halfway to his mouth. “Thought I wasn’t a toy.”

“For heaven’s sake, Israel, people are allowed to have fun with each other!” Stede speared a potato, all of his fine manners and dining pageantry forgotten. 

“Yeah, mate. It doesn’t… Fuck, it doesn’t have to hurt all the time. Loving someone can feel good. All we want is a chance to show you.” 

“That easy, is it?” he muttered.

Stede shook his head as he swallowed. “We’re not under any illusions it’ll be easy. All three of us have such complicated histories with each other, even Edward and me.”

Much as Ed didn’t want to admit it, Stede was right. The pain of his leaving had largely passed, but that didn’t mean the effects were well and truly gone. Their relationship might look perfectly romantic and full of adventure, but the reality was a different story, their own fears and insecurities rearing their ugly heads. That didn’t negate how much they loved one another, though, nor did Izzy and Ed’s complicated past. Whatever was going on between Stede and Izzy might not be love, but there was clearly a mutual interest, even if they preferred to maintain the pretense of loathing.

“Do you trust me, Iz?” Ed asked quietly.

Izzy jerked his head up to look at Ed, his expression pained. “I want to.”

It wasn’t a yes. Ed pushed his fork through the mess of pie on his plate, his appetite gone. “I… Yeah. Okay. Guess I deserve that one.” 

“Ed—”

“What about me?” Stede interrupted.

“Does everything have to be about you?” 

Stede let out an exasperated huff. “If you had let me finish, you’d understand why I asked. What I was going to say was have I given you any reason to question my honesty when it comes to how I feel about you?”

When Izzy didn’t answer, Ed chuckled. “Yeah, he got me there when I wondered if you really wanted to come to dinner. You’re not subtle, either one of you. If Stede says he wants you, he does. So if you can’t trust that I’m not lying to you, trust him.” 

While it still hurt to know that Izzy didn’t entirely believe him, at least there was hope that Stede could get him to understand.

“I… I don’t…”

“One night,” Ed pleaded. “Just give us a chance to show you.” 

He held his breath as Izzy opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. “One night. One. And don’t try to make me fucking talk about it afterward.”

Stede frowned. “But—”

“We won’t. You can have as much time as you need to figure out how you’re feeling. And if you want to talk, we can. But we won’t make you do anything you’re not comfortable with.” He squirmed in his chair, barely restraining himself from climbing in Izzy’s lap. They were actually going to do this. 

“Good. Now eat your fucking dinner, Edward. You’re gonna need the energy.”

Chapter Text

Please, for just one night, will you lay down next to me - Richard Siken, Wishbone

There couldn’t have been a greater difference between Ed and Stede’s reactions. Izzy half expected Ed to launch himself toward the bed and tear his clothes off, while Stede looked vaguely ill, his lips pressed in a thin line and his brow furrowing. 

His own hand shook as he took a bite of pie, and he almost dropped his fork as Stede exclaimed, “Wait, hang on a minute. We’re doing this tonight?” 

“Fuck yeah, we’re doing this tonight.” Ed practically bounced in his seat. 

“When the fuck did you think we were going to?” 

Izzy’s heartbeat thundered in his ears, but he did his best to ignore it. Someone had to be normal about this, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be the captains. Then again, given the way they’d both been acting since he was shot—before then, if he were honest with himself—Izzy really should have known they wouldn’t be capable of acting anywhere close to casual.

“I don’t know!” The panicked expression on Stede’s face was the same one he’d worn every time he made a decision as captain of The Revenge for the first six months Izzy had been onboard. “I thought this was a strategy meeting!”

Unable to stop himself, Izzy snorted. “Said you could call it dinner, didn’t I? It’s sex, not a raid.”

“I didn’t mean that sort of strategy meeting.”

“Then what sort?” Ed asked, a bemused smile tugging at his mouth. 

The tips of Stede’s ears had gone pink, and he stared intently at his plate. “The sort that led to Ed and myself planning how best to seduce you.” 

While Izzy could appreciate the thoughtfulness of the sentiment, it took tremendous effort not to laugh. His sides hurt as he held his breath, and he only let it out once he was confident he wouldn’t end up hurting Stede’s feelings. When the fuck had he started caring about that? “Congratulations. I’m seduced. Meeting adjourned. Now clean your plate so you can fuck me.”

Despite telling both of his captains to do so, Izzy found it difficult to finish his own meal. His stomach churned in anticipation, and he felt like he was going to vibrate out of his skin. Still, Ed had specifically chosen a dinner he thought Izzy would like, and Izzy wasn’t about to make him think he didn’t appreciate it. Somehow, he managed to eat most of the pie, though the potatoes remained largely untouched. They were good, but if he ate another bite, he couldn’t guarantee he wouldn’t throw everything back up later. It was bad enough he’d done it when Ed had left him in charge during a storm. He’d never hear the end of it if he spewed all over the bed. 

“You good, Iz?” 

Izzy looked up to find Ed staring at him, a crease between his eyebrows. “Fine. Just full.” He could see the direction Ed’s mind was starting to veer toward and knew he had to stop it before it got any worse. “It was good, Edward, I’m just fucking full.”

“Yeah. Alright.” His tone was doubtful, though, and Izzy sighed. 

“I mean it. If Roach cooks it again, I’ll eat it again. Thought you’d be happy I was finished, since you two are so eager to fuck me.” 

That seemed to do the trick. Ed’s eyes lit up. “Fuck yeah, we are.” He plucked the napkin from his lap and balled it up before letting it drop to the table. 

Stede’s reaction was a bit slower. He dabbed at his lips, then folded the linen and set it down next to his plate. Fucking ponce. Glancing over, he smiled, and Izzy’s breath hitched. He’d seen that expression, so full of adoration and warmth, directed toward Ed on more than one occasion, but he’d never expected for Stede to look at him that way. It was almost uncomfortable, being the sole object of Stede’s focus, but part of Izzy liked it, too. Liked knowing that he was wanted. Desired. 

“You two gonna stand there all night, or are you coming to bed?” 

Already, Ed had started stripping, his jacket in a crumpled heap on the floor. Stede tutted and shook his head, then walked over to pick it up and drape it over the sofa. “I thought it might be nice to savor the experience,” he said, “much like our first time.” 

The last thing Izzy wanted to think about was Ed and Stede’s first time. He didn’t even have to imagine it. Not much, anyway. Though he’d been informed that what he’d heard on deck was not actually fucking, the entire crew had heard the two of them going at it after Stede’s return. Which meant there was every chance they would be overheard tonight. That gave him pause, and he hesitated beside the sofa, his fingers curled into the soft, worn leather of Ed’s jacket. It wasn’t that Izzy was ashamed of what they were about to do. Hell, he’d done worse with people far more questionable than Ed and Stede. But what would the crew think? Would they see it as Izzy trying to secure his place on the ship by becoming the captains’ whore? Would they—

“Izzy?” Stede’s tone was full of concern. “If you’d rather not do this tonight, or at all, we don’t have to.”

“Yeah, mate, we don’t want to do this if you’re not comfortable.” 

He shook his head. This was quite possibly his one chance to get what he wanted, and Izzy wasn’t going to give it up just because the crew might give him shit. “I told you I’m fine.” They didn’t look like they believed him, and Izzy didn’t blame them. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself add, “Just don’t want to fuck it up, is all.” 

Ed’s expression softened, and he walked over to cup Izzy’s cheek, brushing his thumb across the X under his eye. “You won’t.” 

“It’s been a while.” Both since Izzy and Ed had fucked and since Izzy had fucked anyone at all. 

“Hey.” Ed’s deep brown eyes drew him in. “Trust us, yeah?” 

Trust wasn’t something that came easy for Izzy. He could count on one hand the number of people he trusted to see this side of him, and at least one of them was dead. Even his trust in Ed had been broken. But Ed and Stede had saved his life and nursed him back to health. They’d let him stay when any other captains would have had him keelhauled or outright executed. They were offering him a place in their bed, even if just for a night. 

Standing on his toes, Izzy pressed his mouth to Ed’s. His breath caught, and one of them—he’d swear to anyone who asked that it was Edward—made a desperate sound that might have been a whimper. A strong arm slid around his back, drawing him even closer as he parted his lips to let Ed inside. Nothing else existed but the points at which their bodies connected, his hand in Ed’s hair, Ed’s nose brushing against his, both of them teasing and tasting as they kissed. It was as familiar as it was new, much like the ones they’d shared a few days earlier. Their kisses had never been this tender. This careful. There was a hesitancy that hadn’t been there all those years ago, as though both of them were afraid of messing up before things had a chance to even get started. 

When Izzy finally pulled away, Ed chased his lips for one last peck, then grinned down at him. “Feel better?” 

Izzy nodded. 

“Good.” Ed took Izzy’s hand and led him over to the sleeping nook.

Stede was already on the bed, having shed the rest of his clothes on the way. The time spent working on the ship had done him good. His skin was tanned, his muscles more defined. There were bruises on his neck and chest, and Izzy didn’t let himself think too hard about where they’d come from. Instead, he let his eyes roam over Stede’s body, breath hitching at the sight of the half-hard cock surrounded by golden curls. It was already unfairly large and would be even bigger when he was at full mast. 

Glancing back at Ed, Izzy asked, “He know how to use that thing?” 

“I’m right here, you know,” Stede said with a huff. 

“Yeah, and you’re not the one being fucked with it, are you?” 

Ed snickered. “He’s got a point there, love.” Sauntering over, he looped his arm around Izzy’s waist and drew him close again. Izzy let him tip his chin up, their gazes locked together. “He knows how to use it,” Ed said, his voice low and raspy. “You’re gonna feel it for days.” 

A shudder ran through Izzy, and he knew Ed felt it by the way he smiled. 

The polite cough that came from the bed turned their attention back to Stede. “What’s the plan then?” he asked. 

“Figured I’d fuck Izzy, then put him in my lap so you could fuck him,” Ed said. “That alright with you, Iz?” 

He nodded, trying to swallow past the lump in his throat. It had been so long since Ed had been with him, and yet, Izzy knew that what happened tonight would be different to anything they’d done in the past. As eager as he was, there were so many other emotions swirling around that it was almost overwhelming. Izzy forced them back down. It wouldn’t do any good to get cold feet now. 

“Might suck Stede’s cock while you fuck me,” he told Ed. “Make sure he doesn’t go soft.” 

The splutter of indignation that came from Stede was enough to help him feel slightly more balanced as he started removing his own clothes, beginning with his vest. His fingers shook only slightly as he meticulously unbuttoned it and draped it over the sofa. When he started on his necktie, Ed’s hands covered his own. 

“Let me,” Ed murmured. 

Izzy was powerless to stop him. There was a gentleness, almost a reverence, to Ed’s touch, the way he slid the ring through the silky fabric and slipped it on his own pinkie, the carefulness with which he loosened the ties around his arms and pulled Izzy’s shirt over his head. When Ed went to his knees, Izzy’s breath hitched. He couldn’t look away, especially since Ed was looking back, staring at him with an unbridled lust that hadn’t been there for years. One boot was slipped off, then the other. When Ed rolled down his stocking, though, Izzy pulled back. 

“Leave them.”

“No.”

“You don’t want to see—”

“I want to see all of you,” Ed said insistently. “Even the parts that are missing.” 

‘Because of me’ hung in the air. For a moment, they both remained still, something vulnerable and raw passing between them. Then Izzy held his foot out again. 

Ed didn’t make a show of it. He didn’t even look at the missing space where Izzy’s toe had been. His lips tightened almost imperceptibly as he brushed his thumb across the gnarl of scar tissue before he set Izzy’s foot back down and started on the other stocking. The same care was shown as Ed untied Izzy’s trousers and slid them down his hips, along with his drawers. Izzy’s breath hitched as Ed licked his lips, ceasing entirely when a soft kiss was pressed against the tender skin where thigh met groin. 

“Ed,” he whispered. 

“Get on the bed.” Ed’s voice was low and full of unspoken promises.

Izzy went, though his nerves threatened to overtake him again as he climbed onto the mattress and between Stede’s legs, facing him. Even in his deepest fantasies, he’d never imagined he would actually be in this position, and now that he was, he wasn’t entirely sure what to do. Before he could think too much about it, he leaned forward, completely closing the space between them. Stede’s gasp of surprise made Izzy chuckle, but it abruptly turned into a gasp of his own as Stede deepened the kiss. His lips were softer than they had any right to be, and Izzy couldn’t get enough of them—of him. 

“You’re allowed to touch me, darling.”

Darling. The word sent a spark of arousal through him, and he shuddered hard, his breath hitching. It wasn’t that Izzy didn’t want to touch Stede, but something in him still rebelled at the idea that he was allowed to put his hands on what was clearly Edward’s. 

Smooth fingers slipped between his own blistered ones, and Stede raised Izzy’s hand to his cheek. The stubble on Stede’s jaw rasped against his palm, tickling the mottled skin, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, Izzy dove back in, kissing like he’d die if he stopped. He gripped Stede’s hair with his free hand, need thrumming in time with his pulse. A soft moan came from low in his throat as he was held, tender touches leaving goosepimples in their wake.

“Stede,” Izzy breathed, the name still foreign on his tongue. 

“Dunno who I’m more jealous of,” Ed said, and Izzy jerked, shame creeping through him. For a moment, he’d forgotten Ed was watching them. “You two look fucking good like that.” 

“The view would be even better if you joined us,” Stede said, looking over at Ed. His expression was one Izzy had never seen before, and a moment later, he realized it was hunger. Glancing between them, Izzy found that Stede was fully hard, and he swore under his breath. Stede just laughed. “I take it you approve?”

Izzy shrugged, attempting to seem casual. “It’ll do.” 

The mattress dipped, and a moment later, Ed’s warm weight pressed against his back. He shivered at the contact, eyes slipping shut. Fuck, it had been so long. Ed’s cock was hot and hard, nestled in the crease of his arse. His cunt ached, desperate to be filled, and Izzy rolled his hips back, seeking out more contact. 

“Easy, Iz,” Ed murmured. “We’ll give you what you need.”

He expected to feel the blunt head of Ed’s cock press inside him, but instead, he was met with nothing but the cool air of the cabin before Ed licked a hot stripe through Izzy’s folds. A low groan escaped him, but it was muffled by Stede’s lips on his own. Izzy clutched at the bedsheets, needing something to ground him. 

Despite the years that had passed, Ed still seemed to know exactly what Izzy liked. Tears threatened to fall, and Izzy blinked them away. He’d assumed Ed would have forgotten, but as he circled his tongue around the head of Izzy’s cock, Izzy couldn’t help wondering what else Ed remembered about him. Stede’s hand cupped his jaw, and he looked up to find a small crease between Stede’s brows, a silent question on his face. 

“‘M fine.” Izzy’s lips parted on a silent moan as Ed slipped a finger inside him. He tried to look anywhere other than Stede, but the hand held him firm. Letting out a low growl, Izzy tugged Stede forward by the hair and kissed him hard, grazing Stede’s bottom lip with his teeth. “Don’t you dare try to make me talk it through. I said I’m fine.” 

Stede smiled sheepishly and kissed him again, softer this time. It felt like an apology, and Izzy took it. When he pulled away, Stede’s eyes were bright and his face was flushed. Remembering what he’d promised earlier, Izzy pushed Stede back against the pillows and smeared kisses down his jaw and neck. He continued his descent, briefly toying with Stede’s nipples just to see how he’d react, then paused, hovering over the massive dick in front of him. Izzy’s mouth watered at the sight, his breath catching as Ed added a second finger. He didn’t need it, already so wet that Ed could have fucked him without resistance. But Izzy had always taken everything Ed gave him, and he wasn’t about to stop now. 

“Go on, Izzy,” Ed’s breath ghosted along Izzy’s sensitive skin, making him shiver as he pumped his fingers in and out of Izzy’s cunt. “Show Stede how good you are with your mouth.” 

“Fuck me,” he begged. “Please, Edward, I—” A sob scraped its way up his throat. “I need you.” 

Soft lips brushed against the base of his spine, and Izzy whimpered. “You’ll have me,” Ed said. “Now be a good boy and suck Stede off.” 

Izzy was helpless to resist. He lowered his head and took just the tip in his mouth, wrapping his hand around the thick shaft. Fuck, Stede was going to feel amazing inside him. Curling his tongue, Izzy sank down further, allowing Stede’s prick to fill his mouth completely. Abruptly, the fingers inside him were gone, and Izzy grunted in protest. 

Ed chuckled. “Just wait a fuckin’ minute and I’ll get my cock in you. Honestly, you’re so impatient, man.” 

That was rich, coming from Ed, but Izzy couldn’t say as much. Couldn’t say anything as the tip of Ed’s dick pushed into him. 

“Oh fuck,” Ed groaned, his forehead dropping to rest between Izzy’s shoulder blades. 

Pleasure surrounded him entirely as Ed and Stede speared him between their cocks. Judging from the muffled sounds of gratification above him, Stede was enjoying himself, too. Izzy’s mind went hazy, the ever-present worry and noise fading away to little more than a buzz in the background. All that mattered was the heavy weight of Stede’s dick in his mouth and Ed filling his cunt. Every thrust hit at just the right angle and pushed him even further down Stede’s length, until Izzy’s nose brushed against wiry curls. Tears threatened to spill down his cheeks, but he forced himself to breathe until a hand in his hair pulled him off. 

Izzy knew he had to look a mess, his face slick with spit and precum. “Wh— Did I—”

“No, darling,” Stede said gently, the words coming out slightly strained. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I just don’t want to come too soon.” 

Ed snickered and snapped his hips. “Told you he was good.” 

It should have been insulting, being talked about like he wasn’t even there, but Izzy was too far gone to care. He let Stede wipe his face then pull him in for a tender kiss, a sharp contrast to the hard thrusts and the fingers that dug into his hips. So wrapped up in the sensation, Izzy hardly noticed when Ed’s praise trailed off into whimpers and moans. Stede picked up the slack, and Izzy found himself melting into it, along with the palm against his cheek. 

He clenched around Ed’s cock, the slick sounds of their coupling filling the cabin. It felt so fucking good, being fucked like this, a reminder that after all these years, Ed still wanted him. Rocking back against Ed’s hips, Izzy felt his release building low in his belly. His toes curled, and he gritted his teeth, his face scrunched as he chased after it. 

“Let it happen,” Ed said lowly. “Come on, Izzy. Come for me.” 

Izzy could do nothing but obey. Ed’s cock rubbed against the underside of his own and hit that little spot of pleasure inside him, and he clamped down, shuddering hard as he came. His mouth opened on a soundless cry and tears squeezed out of the corners of his eyes, wave after wave of ecstasy slamming through him. 

As the ringing in his ears faded, Izzy realized someone was speaking. 

“—zy please, need to— Can I—” Ed’s voice was high and desperate, his cock just nudging inside Izzy, almost a question. 

Izzy nodded. “Inside me.” 

That was apparently all the permission Ed needed. He thrust hard twice, then buried himself as deep as possible, his entire body tensing. Warmth flooded Izzy’s cunt, and he groaned, practically collapsing into Stede’s arms. 

“Beautiful,” Stede crooned, stroking his hair. “Absolutely gorgeous, both of you.”

The emptiness as Ed pulled out had Izzy whining, and he canted his hips back, wanting to be filled again. 

“Greedy,” Ed said with a breathless laugh. His hand was slick with sweat as it rubbed down Izzy’s thigh. “Don’t worry. Stede’ll take good care of you. Won’t you, Stede?” 

Stede nodded, his lips brushing Izzy’s cheek in a kiss that was far softer than Izzy was used to. “On your back now. Edward, come put our boy in your lap.” 

Our boy. He shivered at the words, letting them maneuver him as they changed places. Ed settled Izzy between his legs, while Stede knelt at the foot of the bed. Desire burned in Stede’s eyes, the intensity of it making Izzy squirm. He broke the stare, unable to take it any longer. 

“Just fucking fuck me,” he muttered, hearing the petulance in his voice. 

Cupping the backs of Izzy’s legs, Stede draped them over Ed’s, spreading him wider. “Now now, Israel. Is that really any way to get what you want?” 

“No, Sir.” The word slipped out automatically, and Izzy glanced up at Stede, panic hitting him like a blow to the chest. “I-” 

“Beg me.” The lust in Stede’s expression hadn’t wavered.

Izzy blinked. Where the fuck had that come from? Stede was all soft silks and talking about feelings. He didn’t give orders like this. “What the-”

A sharp crack filled the room, and Izzy moaned as pain bloomed along the outside of his thigh where Stede had slapped him. His cunt pulsed, and he arched up a bit, needing more. So much more. 

Ed chuckled. “Told you he liked it.” 

Looking back at him, Izzy frowned. “You talked about me? Us? The shit we used to do together?” He wasn’t sure whether to be hurt or pleased. 

“Wanted him to know what you liked,” Ed said with a shrug.

“Why? So he could… could laugh at me?”

Stede gripped Izzy’s chin hard and forced their gazes to meet again. “Do you hear me laughing, Izzy?” 

He swallowed hard, past the lump that was threatening to build in his throat. “No.” 

“‘No’ what?”

Surely he didn’t mean for Izzy to… But Stede was unwavering, and Izzy found himself relaxing back against Ed. “No, Sir.” 

Beaming, Stede leaned forward to kiss Izzy again. “Good boy. That wasn’t so hard, now was it?” His face betrayed no sign of disgust or judgment. “There’s no shame in enjoying a bit of rough play. I certainly understand the appeal now.” 

What the fuck had Ed and Stede done together? Izzy wasn’t sure he wanted to know. 

“Now then,” Stede continued. “I believe we were in the middle of something.” 

Stede’s cockhead parted his folds, sliding through his own slick and Ed’s cum, stroking up and down but never pressing. Fucking tease. “Come on, Bonnet!”

He yelped and jolted as Stede pinched both his nipples. “As I said, if you want something, you’ll have to ask for it. Properly.”

“Will you please fuck me, Sir?” Izzy asked, his teeth clenched. 

“Gladly.” 

The stretch as Stede sank into him was intense, and Izzy had to force himself to breathe. As big as Stede had felt in his mouth, he seemed even bigger in Izzy’s cunt. 

“Oh, look at you, taking me so well. Gorgeous. I know it’s got to be quite a lot, especially since Ed’s already had you.” 

It was a lot, but Izzy would never admit that. The brush of Stede’s dick against his own was almost too much stimulation, pleasure-pain sparking along his nerves like lightning. Izzy couldn’t remember the last time anything had felt this good. When Stede hit the tight barrier that kept him from going any further, they both groaned. 

“How much is left?” Izzy asked, his chest heaving. 

“Wh—?”

“I know you’re bigger than that. How much doesn’t fit?” 

Stede at least had the decency to look sheepish. “Only a bit.”

Izzy’s head fell back against Ed’s sternum. “Fuuuuuuck.” 

“Would you rather I stop?”

“Don’t you dare,” Izzy said, glaring. 

“Just do what you were doing before, love,” Ed said from over his shoulder. 

That seemed to ease whatever concern Stede still felt. His entire demeanor shifted, shoulders squaring and hunger once again gleaming in his eyes. “Alright, then. I’m going to move now.” 

“Fuck’s sake, you don’t have to tell me before y— Fuck!” 

His back arched as Stede pulled out, then pushed back in again. Izzy didn’t think he’d ever been so full. He dug his nails into Stede’s shoulders, clutching at him as he found his rhythm, each snap of his hips sending little shocks up Izzy’s spine. Having already come once, the sensation was overwhelming, and Izzy squirmed in Ed’s lap. It was almost more than he could handle and not nearly enough, all at once.

“Christ, ‘m so full,” he gasped, wrapping his legs around Stede’s waist to draw him closer. His abdomen rippled a bit, and Izzy realized it was the imprint of Stede’s cock bulging through his skin.

Stede slipped his hand between them, pressing lightly where Izzy’s lower belly was distended, and Izzy let out a garbled sound. “Yes, I’d imagine you are.” Stede’s voice was tight and strained. “I can feel myself inside you.” 

The words made Izzy clench, and he cursed loudly. “Let me. I wanna feel it.”

Gripping Izzy’s hand, Stede brought it down to replace his own, and Izzy’s eyes widened. He’d never experienced anything this intense. His head swam and blood rushed in his ears, and he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. Ed was still touching him, stroking his sides, sliding across his chest. One hand moved higher, the other lower, and Izzy registered what Ed was doing half a second before he did it. Ed’s fingers curled just under his jaw, cutting off his circulation, and he ground the heel of his palm against Izzy’s dick. 

That was all it took. His muscles spasmed as he came with a shout, wetness squirting out around Stede’s cock and soaking the bed beneath him. Stede continued to move, each thrust forcing little huffs of air from Izzy’s lungs until he thought he would die from it. He felt like he was floating; the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth was Ed’s hand wrapped loosely around his neck. And then Stede shuddered and stilled, and warmth flooded Izzy’s cunt. 

For a moment, the only sounds that filled the room were the panting breaths of the three of them. Stede looked dazed, his arms trembling like he was about to collapse, so Izzy pushed at him lightly. His cunt still pulsed, small aftershocks making him twitch and gasp. 

“I’m going to pull out now.” 

This time, Izzy was grateful for the warning. He hissed as Stede moved, clenching around nothing. 

“Oh. Would you look at that? We’ve made quite the mess of you,” Stede said. He was staring, as though transfixed, between Izzy’s legs, and Izzy knew he had to be leaking all over the fucking place. 

“Shut up,” he muttered. “I’ll clean up your sheets in a—”

“Shame we couldn’t get you to gush again,” Stede mused. 

His fingers traced either side of Izzy’s entrance, drawing another shudder out of him. Izzy wanted to protest. They’d both fucked him, everyone had come, so that meant it was time for him to leave. But Stede was still toying with Izzy’s cunt, dragging his fingertips through the spend dribbling out of him. Before Izzy could tell him to stop, Stede gathered as much as he could and pushed it back inside. 

“Fuck!” Izzy arched up, the stimulation finally more than he could handle. 

“Shh, hey, it’s alright Iz.” Ed kissed the side of his neck, one hand splayed across his chest. “We’re done. Just relax. Breathe. Stede, be a love and grab us some water.” 

Izzy shook his head. “I should go back to my cabin,” he said, but Stede was already moving. 

“Stay.” The word was firm, and the hand on Izzy’s chest pressed down a bit. “Captain’s orders.” 

Sighing, Izzy leaned back against Ed once more. “Yeah, alright,” he said quietly. 

As soon as he’d had some water, Izzy would clean himself up and leave. He’d return to his own quarters and try to sleep until his next watch, where he’d do his best to forget about everything that just happened. Izzy refused to give in to the childish hope that the night would somehow fundamentally change their relationship. They didn’t have a fucking relationship. For now, though, he was going to drink his water and relish the feeling of Ed’s skin against his, his captains’ cum spilling out of him. An order was an order, after all. 

Chapter Text

but will you let me kiss your neck, baby? Do I have to tie your arms down? - Richard Siken, Wishbone

Glancing over at the bed nook, Stede smiled. While he’d given plenty of thought to what sex with Izzy and Ed would be like, he’d never imagined anything like this. For starters, Izzy hadn’t bolted the moment they finished. And while Edward may have shown him what Izzy enjoyed, Stede hadn’t expected him to submit to it so beautifully. Sure, there was a bit of back and forth between the two of them, but honestly, Stede wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. 

His own actions had surprised him just as much as Izzy’s. While Stede knew he had a bit of a dominant streak, that bit at the end where he’d pushed Izzy a bit too far was… unexpected. Not altogether unpleasant, though. In fact, quite the opposite. It was certainly worth giving some thought for the future. If Izzy wanted to do this again, of course. Stede didn’t want to presume, even if he’d seemed to like it.

He gathered a pitcher of water and three glasses like Ed had asked, then added a tin of biscuits to the tray. Normally, the thought of eating in bed was unappealing—too many crumbs—but he could make an exception, especially if it gave him the opportunity to care for Izzy. The man had hardly touched his dinner, after all, and the cake sat forgotten on the table.

As he returned to the nook, Izzy raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?” 

“Biscuits. Roach has been experimenting with a new recipe. They’ve got ginger in them!” While Stede wasn’t the biggest fan, he was fairly sure Izzy would enjoy them. They weren’t as sweet as the ones Roach usually made. 

Rather than taking one, Izzy continued to stare at the tin, as though he expected something to jump out at him. “Why?” 

Stede didn’t know how to answer that. He wasn’t even sure what Izzy was asking. “You know how Roach is, always coming up with new flavors.” 

Izzy shook his head. “No, that’s— I don’t need all this. Water and biscuits and fucking… cuddles. Got by just fine without them before.” 

A flicker of pain twisted Ed’s expression for the briefest of moments, and Stede knew he was remembering all the times he and Izzy had fucked in the past. Things were different now, though, and Izzy deserved to experience the softness he’d clearly never had before. 

“You might not need them,” Stede said, passing the tin to Ed, “but did you consider the possibility that we might?” 

They didn’t always. Sometimes, Stede and Ed fell asleep in each other’s arms after making love. Sometimes, they had a quick wipe down and went back on deck to see to the crew. It felt wrong to do that tonight. Sex with Izzy had been intense, and Stede needed to feel grounded just as much as he imagined Ed and Izzy did. 

Izzy glanced from the tin to Stede and back again. “Oh.” To Stede’s surprise, he turned to Ed. “This what you meant before? About wanting all of it?”

“Yeah, mate.” Ed said gently, holding the biscuits out for Izzy. “It’s not gonna kill you to have a bit of a cuddle.” 

Stede expected him to push the tin away, but instead, he reached in and took one, biting down with perhaps a bit more force than necessary. He snagged a glass from the tray and chugged half the water inside before coming up for air, his chest heaving. Apparently a few words from Ed was all Izzy needed to give in. Stede tried not to think about that too much. Ed and Izzy’s relationship spanned far longer than his own with either of them—if what Stede and Izzy had could even be called a relationship. 

Plus, he actually likes Edward, a small voice in the back of Stede’s mind supplied. 

He picked up one of the spare glasses of water and sipped at it, trying to push away that voice. Izzy wouldn’t have agreed to go to bed with both of them if he only wanted Ed. He wouldn’t have sucked Stede off so enthusiastically or begged to be fucked. Although Stede had instructed Izzy to beg for it. Not that Izzy might not have done otherwise, and he’d already been fucked by Ed, so really there was no reason for him to feel like he had to—

“Are you not gonna take a biscuit, then?” Izzy asked, looking at him expectantly. “Thought you needed them or something.”

“Yeah, Stede’s not actually the biggest fan of ging— Oh.” 

The question had made him panic a bit, so Stede had grabbed one and shoved the whole thing in his mouth. His eyes watered at the sharpness of the ginger, and his nose stung as he exhaled. He could handle it, though. Stede wasn’t going to allow something as simple as a biscuit make him look like an idiot in front of Izzy. Chugging the rest of the water, he swallowed the half-chewed lump, feeling it drop into his stomach. 

Izzy stared at him, his expression puzzled. “What the fuck was that?” 

“What?” Stede asked defensively. 

“Wh— You looked like a fucking snake. I thought your mouth was gonna unhinge. And what’s this about you not liking ginger?”

“Ginger’s fine.” He glared over Izzy’s shoulder at Ed, who looked surprised to be on the receiving end of his ire. Stede didn’t even fully understand why he was so on edge. He’d just had sex, for heaven’s sake! With Izzy! There was no reason for him to be so worked up. 

Izzy and Ed exchanged a look Stede couldn’t interpret. They looked good together, Izzy resting back against Ed’s chest. Stede clenched his jaw, then forced himself to relax and sipped again at his water, his stomach rolling a bit at the biscuit. “What do you think?” he asked when Izzy took a bite. “Good, isn’t it?” 

“I suppose.” Izzy regarded him warily. “You know you’re being fucking weird about it again, right?” 

Stede exhaled sharply and pressed his lips in a firm line. “I am aware of that, yes. Thank you for pointing it out.” He just didn’t know how to stop. 

“Hey.” There was something soft in Izzy’s tone. At least, softer than it usually was. “We fucked. I’m fine, you’re fine. Ed’s fine. Everyone’s fine. It was good. So whatever it is that’s got you like this, forget about it.” He finished the biscuit and shifted, grimacing a bit. “Need to wash off before I go up for my watch.” 

“Oh.” Of course Izzy wouldn’t stay the night. He had his duties to attend to. Still, it was disappointing. Stede had imagined them all curled up together, Izzy sandwiched between him and Ed, allowing himself to be held. “Right. Yes. Of course. I’ll just…” 

He slipped out of bed to let Izzy out, trying to keep his face neutral. Stede was aware that he was more expressive than most people, and he didn’t want to show Izzy just how disappointed he was. 

Somehow, Izzy managed to look both reluctant and relieved when he stood. His nose wrinkled, and his legs were slightly bowed. “Jizz on your sheets next time,” he muttered, heading toward the wash stand. “Shit’s fucking messy.” 

“Yeah, but then we’d have to change the sheets,” Ed said with a shrug. “Easier just to let you clean up.”

Izzy huffed. “You’re not the one with cum leaking out your cunt.” 

“Had it leaking out my arse plenty of times. Still better than changing the sheets,” Ed retorted. He looked utterly indecent, his hair mussed and his limbs loose and relaxed. 

Rather than gracing the comment with a reply, Izzy simply threw his middle finger up and continued on his way to the wash basin. Stede hovered beside the bed, not knowing whether to climb back in or stay standing. It felt rude to ignore Izzy, but he was trying to get ready to leave. Maybe he needed a chance to put some distance between them before he started his watch. Still, Stede couldn’t bring himself to lie back down. Instead, he flitted around the table, scraping leftover food from their plates and stacking them neatly, gathering silverware, and meticulously folding their napkins. When he looked up again, Izzy was nearly dressed, doing up the ties on his vest before carefully arranging his necktie, emerald ring on display. 

“You don’t have to wait up for me,” Izzy said, meeting his eyes. 

Stede’s cheeks heated. He hadn’t realized he’d been so transparent. “I know that. I just…” There was no lie he could tell convincingly. “I wanted to.” 

Izzy’s expression was almost tender. “Go back to bed, Stede.” 

Managing a smile, he nodded. “I’ll see you in the morning.” 

Ed was waiting for him when he crossed the room and climbed back under the sheets, the soft click of the door alerting them to Izzy’s departure. He reached out to cup Stede’s cheek and kissed him softly. “What was that all about?” 

“All what?” Stede tried for nonchalant, though he knew Ed would see through him in an instant. As expected, Ed pressed his lips together and raised an eyebrow. Stede sighed. “Fine. I suppose I was nervous. Am nervous. What if he decides he doesn’t want to do this again?” 

“Then… I guess we figure out how to move past it. I don’t think he’ll do that, though.” 

“Oh?” 

“Yeah. He wouldn’t have said yes to a one-off thing.” 

“Because he loves you.” His stomach twisted as he realized why Ed was so certain. It had nothing to do with him. Izzy might have enjoyed sex with Stede, but he was just the means to an end. 

Ed shrugged. “Probably doesn’t hurt. But I don’t think that’s the only reason.” 

“Why else would he have done it, then? It’s not like he wants a relationship with me.” Even though Stede had tried so hard to court him, it wasn’t enough.

Sighing, Ed wrapped his arms around him, and Stede let himself be pulled into the hug. “He’ll get there.” The words weren’t exactly comforting, but at least Ed wasn’t lying to him. “Iz takes a while to open up. Look at how long it took for him to call you captain. You just gotta spend some time with him. Keep doing that teacup thing. Obviously, he likes it. Wouldn’t let you keep doing it if he didn’t.” 

Stede managed a small chuckle. “I’m surprised you didn’t bring up the biting thing again.” 

“Nah. Figured you’d probably bite me if I did,” Ed said with a laugh. “Now c’mere so we can get some sleep. Gotta look good for your coffee date.” 

Morning dawned painfully early, five bells pulling Stede out of his slumber. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and looked down at Ed, who was sprawled across the mattress, hair disheveled and half-covering his face.

“I hope you’re right about this,” he whispered, then leaned down to kiss Ed softly on the cheek. 

Stede took longer than usual to dress, carefully considering his options. His first instinct was to dig out his finest ensemble, a gorgeous marigold number he’d found on a raid the month before. But Izzy didn’t care for frippery the same way he didn’t care for the rich foods that Stede was so accustomed to. He preferred simplicity. So instead, Stede selected a deep teal shirt that laced in the front and tan trousers. A departure from his normal attire, but giving himself a once-over in the mirror, Stede thought he might not look half bad. 

Choosing a teacup took far less time. They’d almost made it through one of the incomplete sets Stede had recently picked up. The tiny pink roses weren’t his favorite pattern, so he didn’t mind sacrificing them nearly as much as the cobalt set that had ended up at the bottom of the ocean. He meticulously set about pouring Izzy’s coffee, doing his best to ignore Roach, who was smiling broadly. 

“Can I help you?” Stede finally asked, exasperated by the unnerving expression Roach wore. 

Roach didn’t even have the decency to hide his smile. “Someone’s crabby this morning. Long night… Captain?”

Stede’s cheeks and the tops of his ears grew hot, and he cleared his throat, focusing even more intently on the task in front of him. “That is none of your business.”

“Mmm, if you can hear it on deck, it becomes everybody’s business.” 

Oh god. Izzy was going to kill him. “Yes, well, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t gossip about it with the rest of the crew.” 

That drew a wince from Roach. “Yeah I think it’s too late for that one. Actually, I know it’s too late for that one.” 

Stede let out a sigh and set the coffee pot back on the stove. “Fuck,” he muttered. 

“Hey, maybe he won’t notice!” Roach didn’t even have to say Izzy’s name. 

Balancing the cup and saucer in both hands, he looked up at Roach with a grimace. “Somehow, I don’t think that’s going to be the case.” 

Izzy was nowhere to be found on the main deck, or the fo’c’s’le. After a few minutes of searching, Stede climbed through the passage that led to the head and found him staring out at the water, his shoulders tense. 

“Crew knows we fucked,” Izzy said without looking back Stede. 

For the briefest of moments, he considered feigning ignorance. There was nothing to be gained from it, though. “Does that bother you?” 

He felt silly now, holding the cup of coffee. Ed may have thought it was a good idea, but as the seconds ticked by, Stede was starting to think that continuing their morning ritual might have been a mistake. Finally, Izzy turned around. He didn’t look like he wanted to commit murder, which Stede took as a good sign. 

“Dunno,” he said with a shrug. “Don’t suppose it matters now, does it?” 

Closing the space between them, Izzy took the cup and saucer from Stede’s hands, their fingers brushing together. Stede’s breath hitched as Izzy met his gaze, and time seemed to stop, neither one of them looking away. It was as though they were both waiting for the other to break first. Stede never really noticed Izzy’s eyes before, but he did now. In the early morning light, there seemed to be flecks of gold mixed among the greens and browns that mingled together to create a deep hazel. 

“No,” Stede said softly, glancing away. “No, I guess it doesn’t.” 

“So. That’s that, then.”

“Do you regret it?” The question was out before Stede could stop himself. 

“No.” Izzy stared at Stede as though he was trying to search for something in his expression. “Do you?”

Stede shook his head. “I liked it. Quite a lot, actually. I’d like to do it again… if you want.”

“That why you brought me coffee?” Izzy asked, then took another sip. 

“I… maybe. Possibly. A little bit.”

If Stede didn’t know any better, he’d have sworn the corner of Izzy’s mouth twitched up. “You could have just asked like a normal person. Didn’t need to go to all the trouble of this.”

“I just… I didn’t know if…”

“If I only did it because of Edward.” 

It wasn’t a question, but Stede didn’t know if he wanted the answer. He nodded, every nerve on edge and every muscle tense as he waited. Izzy brought the teacup to his lips, and Stede wanted to slap it out of his hand and send it overboard, himself.

“Contrary to what you might think of me, Bonnet, I am capable of doing things for reasons other than him,” Izzy said finally. “I fucked Ed because I’m—” He didn’t need to finish the sentence for Stede to know how it ended. Clearing his throat, Izzy met his eyes once again. “And I fucked you because I wanted to fuck you. It was good. But it’s not like I expect to warm my captains’ bed every night just because we did what we did.”

The defensiveness in Izzy’s tone made Stede’s chest ache. He knew it would be a challenge to convince Izzy that they wanted him for more than just sex, but it was heartbreaking to know just how little he trusted them. 

“We don’t expect you to.” Izzy’s expression turned hard, and Stede realized how his words had been interpreted. “Not because we don’t want you there,” he added quickly. “I think I can speak for Ed as well when I say we’d have you every night, if you let us. But we want you for more than just that.”

Izzy’s hard mask dropped for a split second, betraying something that looked an awful lot like vulnerability, before his features smoothed out into impassivity once again. “What do you want me for, then?” he asked, tossing his empty cup over the side of the ship. 

“Everything,” Stede said earnestly. “Anything you want to give. We want to spend time with you, Izzy, whether that means dinner on Friday nights, or our little coffee dates, or watching the clouds with Ed—”

“Reading the clouds. So we don’t fucking die.” 

Stede huffed. “Whatever. I know Ed values the hours you spend together.” 

“‘Course he does. I’m doing my job.”

As sad as it was, Izzy’s inability to see that Ed enjoyed his presence was unsurprising. There was so much history between the two of them, their relationship mired in grief and pain. They deserved a chance to rebuild it. To make it stronger. Healthier. They were both trying, in their own way. Now they just had to give it time. In many ways, Ed and Izzy reminded Stede of the plant he’d saved from the fishing boat. A little care and nurturing had brought it back from the sad state it had been in, and now it was thriving. 

“Maybe you see it that way. That doesn’t mean he does,” Stede said. 

“The fuck does that mean?”

“Edward likes sharing things he finds interesting with the people he cares about. You know as well as I do that he could do the job by himself.” Especially since, from what Stede had gathered, Ed was better at it than Izzy. 

Izzy stared at him blankly, as though he was trying to solve a puzzle. “He wants to spend time with me.” There was a hint of a question in his voice. 

Stede nodded. “We both do. All you have to do is let us.” 

Izzy seemed to look through Stede instead of at him, a muscle twitching in his jaw. After a few seconds, his gaze focused again. “I suppose you could bring a cup for yourself tomorrow,” he said. “Doesn’t have to be coffee. You like tea better.” 

Hope welled inside Stede until his chest felt tight, and his whole body vibrated with excitement. “I’d like that,” he said, a bit breathlessly. “I’d like that quite a lot.”

Chapter Text

 we can leave our clothes on, we can stay all buttoned up - Richard Siken, Wishbone

Climbing the rigging with a bum knee and a knapsack full of food wasn’t the easiest thing Ed had ever done, nor was it the smartest. But Izzy had taken to the main top an hour earlier, emerging from his cabin where he’d retreated to rest after his watch. Finally reaching the landing, Ed swung his leg over and heaved himself onto it, collapsing down beside Izzy with a soft ‘oof.’ Izzy didn’t even look at him, still staring out at the vast expanse of the sea. He let out a huff and nudged Izzy with his elbow, annoyed that he was being ignored. 

“Need something?” Izzy asked, finally turning to face Ed. 

Ed shrugged a shoulder, doing his best to come off as nonchalant. “Thought it might be nice to bring you food. You slept through lunch.” 

“You and Bonnet keeping an eye on me, are you?” There was no anger or annoyance in Izzy’s voice. Ed would almost swear he was teasing. 

“‘Course we are,” he said. “You’re fucking hot.”

Izzy snorted and rolled his eyes, grabbing the knapsack from Ed to start unpacking it. Fang had been on kitchen duty, so he’d ladled hearty stew into a jar and thrown in a couple of rolls that were left over from breakfast. Bowls and spoons clanked together as Izzy pulled out the checkered cloth they were wrapped in. 

“The fuck is this?”

“Dunno. Thought it would be nice. Add to the atmosphere or something. It’s fine.” His cheeks burned a bit, and he had to resist the urge to grab the cloth and throw it over the side of the ship. 

“No, it’s… it is nice. Just didn’t expect it.” Izzy spread the cloth out in between them and poured stew into each bowl, holding one out for Ed. Apparently something in Ed’s expression betrayed his lingering uncertainty, because Izzy put the bowl down, hesitating only a moment before placing his hand on Ed’s knee. “I mean it. It’s nice. You didn’t h—”

“Don’t. I didn’t do it ‘cause I thought I had to. I did it ‘cause I wanted to.” 

This was going all wrong. Ed and Stede had talked after Stede’s morning coffee with Izzy, and it had made him hopeful that Izzy would be a little more open to spending time with him in a way that wasn’t strictly work related. Maybe that was too much to ask, though. Or maybe he’d wanted it with Stede and not Ed. Maybe it was too late for them after all, and—

“Hey.” Izzy’s voice pulled him back from his own thoughts. “I like it. I’m not… good at shit like this. Romance and talking about it. Never have been. Doesn’t mean I don’t like it. Just… no one’s ever done it for me before.” 

Ed nodded, his own hand coming to rest beside Izzy’s so he could link their pinkies. It was hard to remember that he’d been the same way before Stede. Not because he didn’t want it, but he’d had Izzy for so long, and then after they stopped being… what they were, there was no one who held Ed’s interest for anything other than sex. Part of Ed wanted to blame himself or Izzy or someone for the fact that they’d gone years without this, but it wasn’t really anyone’s fault. They just hadn’t known how, then. 

“I want to now, if you’ll let me,” Ed said quietly. “You— Stede said—” He cut himself off, unsure whether he was allowed to talk about what Izzy and Stede discussed. Unsure if he was even supposed to know what was said. 

“What did Stede say?” 

Ed didn’t think he would ever tire of hearing Izzy call him ‘Stede’ instead of ‘Bonnet.’ “He said you didn’t know I want to spend time with you.” 

“Oh. Yeah.” Izzy looked a bit sheepish as he pulled his hand away and picked up his bowl of stew. 

How had Izzy been so oblivious? Ed had always been terrified Izzy was going to see right through him one day. Every time he’d presented some cool trinket or another, every course he’d charted that would take them to some new, exotic place, had all been his poor attempts to bond with Izzy. At first, those attempts had gone over pretty well. They were both still so green and full of excitement, riding the high of making a name for themselves. Over the years, though, the wonder in Izzy’s eyes when he looked at Ed had faded. Ed’s response had been to make even grander plans, but that only seemed to make Izzy even more frustrated. Eventually, he’d just… stopped trying. 

“It’s— I’ve always wanted that,” Ed’s voice was hardly a whisper, as though he were sharing a secret. In a way, he was. “Even when we were back on the Marianne, I wanted to spend time with you. Remember when we got put on different watches for a month?”

Izzy barked out a laugh. “Yeah, you took watch with me anyway and kept falling asleep against the helm.”

He was so close to understanding. Really getting what Ed was trying to say. “Why do you think I did that?” Ed pressed. 

“I dunno. Figured you didn’t want to spend more time below deck than you had to.” 

Fucking hell. “It was ‘cause I wanted to be near you. Talk to you. Laugh and make plans and dream up all the shit we could do together.” 

So many of their best ideas had come from those watches – the mutiny, taking their own ship, hell, even Blackbeard. In the inky blackness before dawn, they’d plotted their whole life together. It had all seemed so simple back then, when both Ed and Izzy were naive enough to believe they could have it all. Except Ed was starting to think maybe they could. 

He took a bite of his own stew and risked a glance over at Izzy, trying to gauge his reaction, but Izzy’s face was frustratingly impassive. Silence stretched between them, but Ed didn’t give in to his urge to break it. Something told him Izzy needed time to process, and as impatient as Ed was, he couldn’t deny him that. 

“Guess I never really understood why you wanted to spend time with me,” Izzy said eventually. “Not that I didn’t like it, but out of everyone on the ship – everyone who tried so hard to catch your eye – you picked me to be around most, except Jack sometimes.” 

Ed knew he’d always been well-liked on Hornigold’s ship. It was part of what made the mutiny so successful. From the start, though, most of the crew seemed drawn to him. They’d bought him drinks on shore leave and flirted brazenly, all competing for his attention. The energy Ed and Jack had created together was even more enthralling. Jack knew how to have a good time, and the way they played off each other had everyone wanting to join in. 

By comparison, Izzy was withdrawn and reserved. Not that he never enjoyed himself or talked to the crew, but for the most part, he kept his head down and did his job. He was different with Ed, though. At first, Ed thought he’d just caught Izzy on a good day or that he was starting to open up to the crew at large, but observing Izzy with everyone else, Ed quickly realized that he was the only person Izzy seemed to trust. 

“You were different,” Ed said with a shrug. “Everyone else tried so hard all the fucking time. Not to say I didn’t like the attention. It was great! Free booze, sex whenever I wanted it, who wouldn’t love that? But they didn’t care about me. I was a good time to them. You didn’t give a shit about all that.” 

Izzy scoffed. “You think I didn’t care about getting into your pants? I’m not blind now, and I wasn’t then, either. Just knew it probably wasn’t gonna happen with everyone else trying to do the same thing.” 

“Wanna know a secret?” When Izzy grunted in assent, Ed continued. “That only made me want you more. I thought you were playing hard to get. Trying to make me work for it.” 

“Bullshit.” 

“I did!” Ed set his mostly empty bowl of stew down beside him and sat up straighter. “Everyone else just threw themselves at me, but you? You were so fucking mysterious. Took me a month just to get you to tell me your name.”

“You already knew my name,” Izzy said. 

“I knew part of your name. Didn’t know what Izzy was short for. I tried asking one of the crew, but he said it was ‘cause you’d just stopped growing.” 

“Oh, fuck off.” 

“It’s true! I’d say he could back me up, but dead men tell no tales and all,” Ed said with a wink. 

“You really expect me to believe that all that time, you wanted me?” 

There was an openness to Izzy’s expression, a vulnerability, that Ed wasn’t used to seeing. It was such a fragile, tender thing, and Ed wanted to cradle it in his hands and protect it. So he did. He cupped Izzy’s cheeks in his palms and hesitated before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to the corner of Izzy’s lips. 

“Yes,” he said, all humor and pretense gone. “I wanted you before I understood what want really was. It’s not about sex or getting off. I mean, that part’s good, too, but it’s more than that. It’s this… this all-consuming thing.” 

It felt so different than it did with Stede. The kind of want Ed felt toward Izzy was dark, like the inky black of the sea at night. He wanted to carve a space in Izzy’s chest and live inside him, grind against him until the very marrow of their bones mixed. Maybe that should have scared Ed, but it didn’t. He’d lived with it for so long, it felt as natural as breathing. Except now, the want was starting to change. It wasn’t all jagged edges and gaping wounds anymore. There was a softness to it now that came through in gentle touches and unguarded expressions and picnics on the main top.

“Oh.” The word was little more than a whisper carried away on the breeze. 

“Yeah. Oh.” 

Ed leaned in and kissed Izzy again. This one was deeper, more possessive. He needed Izzy to understand that this wasn’t a fleeting thing for him. It never had been. Maybe he’d taken advantage of Izzy in the past, not respected him the way he should have, but he wanted to make amends for that now. Izzy deserved so much – he deserved the fucking world – and Ed was going to give it to him. Pulling back, he held Izzy’s gaze and stroked a thumb across his jaw. The way he trembled under the touch reminded Ed of the night he and Stede had walked in on Izzy in their bed. The night Ed had made his way to the first mate’s cabin and confessed his feelings. So many things had changed since then, and it made Ed hopeful that Izzy might be more open to hearing it now. 

“I love you,” Ed murmured. “You didn’t want me to say it before, but I thought maybe now it might be different.” 

Izzy’s hand was warm as it covered his. “I know. I know you do, but I can’t— I’m not ready to say it back yet.” The gentleness of his tone was tinged with something that sounded almost apologetic. At least it wasn’t panicked and strained the way it had been the last time. “Is that…?”

“Yeah, Iz. It’s okay.” He leaned forward and let his forehead rest against Izzy’s. “You don’t have to say it right now. Not until you’re ready.” 

Between the cotton-tuft clouds that promised smooth sailing, the romantic picnic, and the enlightening conversations about their past, it had just felt right for Ed to tell Izzy he loved him. That didn’t mean he expected Izzy to return the sentiment, though. Ed wanted to trust that the first time Izzy said it, it was because he wanted to, not because he felt pressured into it. 

Izzy gave a little nod, the crease that had been forming between his brows smoothing out again. “Okay. I— It’s not ‘cause I don’t. I just… I can’t yet.” 

“I know.” Shifting them both, Ed spread his legs and settled Izzy between them, his front supporting Izzy’s back. “I told you, it’s okay. Until you’re ready, I’ll just say it enough for the both of us. How’s that sound?” 

Resting his head against Ed’s shoulder, Izzy leaned up and pressed a kiss to his neck, making Ed smile. “Sounds good. Thank you.” 

There was that apologetic note again. Ed couldn’t let that stand. “You don’t have to thank me for it.” He chewed his lip, trying to wrangle his thoughts into something coherent. “I know I haven’t treated you right—”

“Oh, fuck off,” Izzy said with a snort.

“No, it’s true. Even before I cut off your toe, I was never good to you. Fuck, man, you practically ran the Queen Anne for weeks at a time when I couldn’t leave the cabin.” He laced his fingers with Izzy’s and brushed his thumb over the backs of Izzy’s knuckles. “I want to do better by you. Make up for all those years, if you’ll let me.” 

That was what it all came down to – how much Izzy would allow. 

 Izzy remained quiet for so long that Ed thought he might not respond at all. Finally, he nodded, and Ed let out the breath he’d been holding. 

“Yeah,” Izzy said quietly. “I’ll… Yeah.”

Ed tightened his arms around Izzy’s waist and buried his face in the juncture between Izzy’s shoulder and neck. To anyone else, it might not have seemed like much of a concession, but Ed knew how big of a step forward it was for Izzy. For them. 

“Gonna be doing a lot more shit like this,” he said with a grin. 

“Ah, fuck. Can I change my answer?” Izzy’s tone was lighter than Ed had heard it sound in far too long. 

“Nope. No taking it back.” Ed grazed his teeth along Izzy’s earlobe. “I could make it an order, if you like.” 

Izzy shivered lightly. “Oh?”

“As your captain, I’m ordering you to let me take care of you.” 

“And how are you gonna take care of me… Captain?”

Ed chuckled and reached for the jar of stew. “Gonna start by making sure you’re well-fed. All the rest can come later.”