Ed’s been a sailor long enough that he can tell when a squall’s coming, even without the accompanying ache in his knee. There’s something extremely strange about whatever’s gathering right now though: no clouds, just an ominous, low pressure that feels like it’s going to crush anybody still on deck when it arrives.
The crew must sense it too, because even without orders they secure everything they would normally for a storm and scuttle below to ride it out. The only person left is Mr. Buttons, who has volunteered to remain at the helm.
Ed goes up the quarterdeck, surveys the ocean from near the wheel. The sky is still weirdly clear, the water calm as glass.
“I don’t like it, Cap’n. Nothing feels as it should.” Buttons is fidgety, a nervous expression on his face. Even Olivia’s pacing on a rail, feathers ruffled in agitation.
“I get that, mate,” Ed replies. “Come grab me if you need a break, yeah?”
“Aye, but I imagine you’ll have your hands full dealing with Cap’n Bonnet, poor man.” Buttons looks sympathetic. Stede had retreated into their cabin, complaining of a dreadful headache. Ed’s heard of people getting them with extreme pressure changes, but Stede’s the first one he’s ever seen affected.
“Even so. The ship can’t wait if something comes up.”
Buttons nods. “Understood, sir.”
Ed claps him on the shoulder. “Good man.” Olivia gives him a long, strange look, but Buttons makes no move to translate or explain. All right then.
Back down the stairs he goes, opening the door to their cabin. He’s barely shut and locked it when a giant fucking wave comes out of nowhere, upsetting the ship and knocking him clean off his feet into a wall. He doesn't even have time to register the pain before everything goes dark.
—
“Hey. Wake up!” A deeply familiar voice he can’t quite place is coming from above. It sounds concerned.
“Nrrgh,” Ed replies. Balls, his head hurts so much.
“That’s something, I suppose. You all right, mate?” The voice is closer now, like it’s level with wherever he is. Which might be the floor, based on what he can feel under his back.
“Think so?” He opens his eyes and finds he’s actually leaned against the wall. The unexpected perspective shift makes him dizzy, so he closes his eyes again.
“Ah, fuck. Here.” Hands find his shoulders, just firm enough to keep him upright. “Open your eyes, this should be better.”
“Says you,” Ed grumbles. “Haven’t felt this addled since that one bender in Tortuga.”
“Just open your eyes, you twat. You’ll feel better once you get your bearings.” The voice is annoyed now, but there’s some sense to the instruction.
So Ed opens his eyes. The world is no longer swimming, which is good. And then he looks over at the person who’s still holding him.
“What. the. fuck.“ It’s him. Well, some version of him anyways. Like somebody had given a description of Blackbeard to another person and drew him in the most exaggerated way possible. He has three guns (that he can see, anyways), for fuck’s sake. The leather looks the same, but it’s gleaming like new, freshly oiled and buckles polished until they flare like suns.
It’s his face, of course, but done up in a way he’s never had a chance or thought to do. At first he thinks it’s kohl on his eyelids, but upon further inspection it’s more like whatever the French aristocrats used to color their lips and faces. There are smudgy lines of black that surround his eyes, creating a rather dramatic effect. He’s bearded, but it’s cropped much closer than Ed used to keep it, accentuating the line of his jaw. The overall effect is quite striking, and he can’t stop staring.
The other man shrugs in a very specific way. It’s his? their? “fuck if I know” gesture. Well that’s not helpful at all.
“Did I hit my head harder than I thought? Is this a hallucination?” In response, his counterpart flicks him on the forehead. It’s not hard enough to hurt a lot, but he definitely feels it.
“Suppose I walked right into that,” Ed says, rubbing the tender spot.
“You did,” the other man agrees, as if it was inevitable. Who knows, maybe it was.
He looks at Ed. “So what now?”
Ed’s a little puzzled he’s being asked, considering he knows about as much as his counterpart. Which is to say, absolutely fuck-all.
“I guess we can get one thing out of the way, at least. What do I call you? No—What do you want to be called?”
He looks surprised, then a bit thoughtful. “Ed or Edward doesn’t feel right, because that’s you. I’m not the Kraken—good fucking riddance to that monster. So I guess what’s left is Blackbeard.”
“You don’t have to pick something related to, uh, us,” Ed suddenly feels the need to clarify. “If you wanted you could be, I don’t know, James. Christopher. Lots of pirates named Christopher for some reason. Hell, even Benjamin.”
“Not Benjamin.” He doesn’t have to say why, and Ed thinks it is an extremely strange thing to talk to himself in this way.
“Blackbeard isn’t just fine, it fits. It feels… good.” And there is something that settles in him, an assuredness Ed didn’t see before.
“Hello then, Blackbeard. It’s nice to meet you,” Ed says. Blackbeard grins, and Ed feels his stomach flip a little.
—
“Ed? Darling, is that you?” Stede calls from the bed.
Ed and Blackbeard look at each other. Ed is sure he has the same look of panic on his face as Blackbeard does.
“Should I hide?” Blackbeard asks. “I can get into the closet—”
“What if this doesn’t go away? You can’t stay in there forever!”
Blackbeard rolls his eyes. (Is it this annoying to other people when Ed does it? he wonders, a little hysterically.)
“Look, just—stay here for a little bit. Don’t let him see you. You’ll know when to come out.”
“How?”
“Mate, you know how I think. You’ll figure it out.”
Blackbeard huffs in annoyance, but nods.
Ed approaches the bed. “I’m here, sweet. Do you feel better?”
Stede smiles when he sees Ed, happy and soft. Gods or whatever help him, it’s still the greatest blessing he’s ever been given, to be with Stede.
“Much better, my dear. Come and sit.” He pats the spot next to him on the bed.
“Not quite yet.” Ed takes a breath. “Can you promise me something?”
Stede’s eyes narrow suspiciously. “I suppose.”
“No matter what you see, don’t freak out.”
“Edward, what is happening? Is the crew in danger? The ship—”
“Everything’s fine, don’t worry about that.” It’s not a lie. “It’s just—”
There are footsteps behind him, and Stede’s eyes become round as saucers. Blackbeard stops next to Ed, gives a sheepish little wave.
He looks over at Ed. “Did I come in at the right time?”
Ed sighs. “You know what? Close enough.”
Stede looks at both of them, trying to make sense of the very nonsensical. “I'm sorry, but am I having some sort of headache-induced delusion?”
“No love, you’re not.” Ed says.
“And you have no idea how this happened?”
“Not a fucking clue, sweetheart.” Blackbeard replies.
Stede looks at him. “And what do I call you, my dear?”
“Blackbeard will do, but I think I’d prefer to be ‘yours’.” He gives Stede a winning smile and Ed feels weirdly, stupidly jealous when Stede blushes.
“Do either of you know if this is a permanent state of affairs?” They both shake their heads.
Stede looks thoughtful for a moment. “This is, of course, only a suggestion that one or both of you are free to refuse. Would you be amenable to a ménage à trois?”
Ed blinks. Blackbeard laughs, absolutely delighted. “You're full of surprises, always.”
"Saying it in French doesn't make it any less dirty, sweet," Ed teases.
"I will point out neither of these answers are refusals." Stede raises an eyebrow.
"You know we'd never be able to resist you, sweet thing," Blackbeard says. "But if you need to hear it, that's a yes from me."
"And from me," Ed says.
"And how do you feel about, ah, interacting with each other?" Stede is blushing furiously now, but he's determined to get through this negotiation.
"Are you kidding? I am absolutely on board with this." Blackbeard looks positively gleeful.
Ed shrugs. "We're all here, so why not?"
Blackbeard looks at him, a little amused but mostly surprised. “Really, you’ve never thought about—” he makes a gesture Ed presumes is supposed to encompass both of them.
“It’s not like I thought there was a possibility of it actually happening!” This is true. But there's also something that makes him want to slide away from looking closer, really examining it. Blackbeard is a fuckery, literal smoke and mirrors sometimes. It's a costume and persona. For longer than he'd like to admit it was an albatross.
So it's a hell of a thing to see a part of himself not only call himself that, but embrace it.
Ed’s face must do something, because Blackbeard takes a step closer. It's a strange thing to be on the other end of, ah, such attention, and maybe Ed feels a bit of sympathy for some of the people he's intimidated. "'S not like it came out of nowhere," he says softly, curving a hand against Ed's face. "The most effective kinds of lies always have a bit of truth to them."
"And which bits are those, then? The ones that like maiming people? Hurting them so they tell everybody they know about the fearsome and cruel dread pirate?" Ed turns his face away from Blackbeard. It's not just the violence, but the mindset that breeds it, makes it necessary. It's so fucking tiring, definitely a younger man's game. But of course there's a part of him that relishes it.
Blackbeard makes an exasperated noise. It sounds kind of familiar, and that's when he realizes it normally comes from Stede. There's affection in it, but also determination he'll keep belaboring the point until Ed accepts it. Ugh. Talking to himself sucks.
"You know it's not like that anymore." Blackbeard fixes him with their(?) “I sense bullshit” face, raises his eyebrows. Ed takes it back. This really fucking sucks.
Blackbeard rolls his eyes again, this time in a manner he definitely learned from Lucius. (Ed is glad he didn't actually kill him. Most days.) "If you won't hear it from me maybe you'll listen to someone else." He looks at Stede meaningfully.
"Blackbeard's right, you know." Stede says, smiling at him before returning his attention to Ed. "So much of what's wonderful about you is also part of him. Both of you? Anyways. Your bravery and fearlessness, your clever mind. There's no Blackbeard without those, among your many other fine qualities. That's the real Blackbeard, not the lies that surround the name."
"Huh." Ed has never thought of it that way before. The longer he considers it, he supposes it's a kinder interpretation. He doesn't know if it's right, but Stede believes it, so it must be true.
"'S not like I don't know what goes on in that thick skull of yours," Blackbeard says, but in a gentle tone. "So maybe listen to me when I say you are good. And if you can't do that, listen to him."
"I'll take it into consideration."
“I think you’ll come around.” He leans forward, gives Ed a chaste peck on the cheek before looking at him, intense and serious. “If you don’t want this, you have to say so.”
“You're me,” Ed says. “You know I won’t.”
Blackbeard eases him into it, their first actual kiss soft and exploratory. Ed lets him lick into his mouth before biting into Blackbeard's lower lip, sharp with pain but soothed away after. He fists a hand into Ed's shirt, drawing him closer.
Ed shivers as Blackbeard grazes his earlobe, scraping teeth across the delicate skin. He puts his hand against Blackbeard's hip, drawing him close enough to feel him half-hard against the leather. And that's fucking hot in a way he doesn't know how to explain, so he ruts against Blackbeard instead.
'Tell me, is he watching us?" Blackbeard uses the opportunity to tease at that spot right behind his ear, and Ed lets out a strangled, indignant noise.
"You can't ask me shit and just do that," Ed gasps.
"I trust your ability to multitask." Ed really hopes he (personally?) isn't this much of an ass to everybody else. But he does take a look at Stede, who looks both gobsmacked and rapt with attention.
"Yeah," he tells Blackbeard. "He is."
"Like what you see, sweetheart?" Blackbeard turns to address Stede, snaking an arm around Ed's waist. It's a bit possessive in a way Ed feels like he should mind, but it's also assuring, grounding.
“So very much, my dear.” Stede is well flustered, eyes roaming over both of them. "I can't say I ever thought about this, uh, situation in particular, but rest assured it is something I will keep in mind for the future."
"Then we should give you some food for thought." Ed looks at Blackbeard, who smiles back. Okay, maybe this is pretty great after all.
"Oh, we are going to ruin you, babe, and you'll thank us for it." Blackbeard moves toward Stede, who looks absolutely stunned. Ed doesn't blame him.
They meet hungrily, Blackbeard bending down while Stede clutches him lower, desperate to have as much of their bodies pressed together as possible. Ed moves behind Stede on the bed, pulling aside the collar of his shirt to press kisses at his nape, the junction of neck and shoulder.
"Darling, darlings, you are both absolutely exquisite," Stede murmurs between kisses to them both. There's a dreamy, pleasure-drunk smile on his face, and Ed can't help but turn his head for another kiss.
Blackbeard sinks to his knees, hitching up Stede’s shirt. Ed throws down a pillow, because he's going to feel it, kneeling on a hard floor for as long as he (they?) intends.
He'd expected Stede's breeches to be set aside during his nap, but apparently his smalls were too. Not that he's complaining, seeing Stede's cock flushed and hard already.
"Did watching us get you going, sweet?" Ed asks, letting his lips ghost over the curve of Stede's ear.
"You know it did, my love." Stede sounds half-wrecked already, and warmth pools in Ed's belly.
"Did you want to touch yourself?"
"I did, but I knew you would take care of me, and it’s sweeter for the wait."
"How could anybody resist you, gorgeous?" Blackbeard stares up at him, hungry, adoring; before he places a kiss at the tip of Stede's cock.
He and Ed both moan at this, and Blackbeard looks up and actually winks, the shit.
Before either of them have a chance to react, Blackbeard takes Stede's length into his mouth as far as he's able.
"Oh god," Stede cries, "fuck." He throws his head back, exposing the beautiful line of his throat. Ed uses the opportunity to mouth at his pulse, graze his teeth at his collarbone.
He looks down at Blackbeard, who flicks his eyes up and holds his gaze. And he's definitely looking at Ed, given how, ah, distracted Stede is at the moment. It is incredibly strange, but he thinks he might be into… whatever the fuck this is.
Stede reaches down and tangles his fingers into Blackbeard's hair, curling them gently against the back of his head. His eyes flutter shut, taking Stede even deeper.
"Ah! Darling—" Stede's hand fists, clutching into Blackbeard's curls. Ed can't tell if it was on purpose, but either way Blackbeard likes it, the way he moans in the back of his throat. And fuck, he's exquisite like this, sucking Stede's cock like he needs it to live. (He might. Ed knows he does.) Suddenly Ed finds it harder to breathe.
"Do I look like that?"
"You do, my love." He didn't realize he said it out loud until Stede replied.
Ed knows he's not bad-looking. Even without the, er, mystique he's done well finding company when he wants it. But this is the first time he thinks he might actually be beautiful.
As glad as he is to have another profound revelation, the timing’s a bit inconvenient. He returns his attention to Stede, undoing the laces on his shirt and pulling it off. Oh that’s much better, now that he can run his hands over Stede’s arms, firm with muscle from actual sailing; trace the contours of his shoulder blades with his tongue.
"Stand up, love," Ed says, supporting Stede as he gets to his feet. "Want to get my fingers in you."
"Please darling, I need them." There's very little Ed could refuse, asked in that manner. Not that it's any kind of hardship indulging Stede like this.
He grabs a vial from a shelf near the bed, slicks up his fingers. Stede shivers as Ed's fingers slip between his cheeks, getting him used to the sensation before he pushes a finger in. He starts slow, moving gentle but steady until he feels more give. He adds another, now using enough force Stede twitches forward a bit.
Ed grabs Stede's hip to still his movement. Blackbeard doesn't cover his hand like Ed expects, but laces their fingers together as they hold Stede in place. It's startlingly intimate, but feels natural to do.
"You want his fingers in you too, sweet?" Ed asks.
"Yes, please yes," Stede pants, like he has no breath to spare, and that makes Ed’s catch too.
Blackbeard works in a finger next to Ed's, and Stede whimpers at the further stretch.
Ed hears a shift of leather and glances down. Blackbeard's pulled off Stede's cock, just enough to talk.
"You're taking us so well, sweetheart." His voice is so full of adoration it takes Ed a second to realize how stupid it is to be jealous. (He thinks it would be stupid anyways.) "You want to see if we can fill you up more?"
Stede makes a noise a less charitable person might call a squeak. Ed chuckles and presses a kiss to the crown of Stede’s head. “That’s not a refusal.”
“If that’s all you can manage, babe, I’d say we’re doing all right.” Blackbeard smirks, entirely too pleased but in an endearing way, and catches Ed’s gaze. He grins back.
“That what you want, love?” Ed asks. Stede nods, and what remaining ability to think Ed has left starts to evaporate.
Blackbeard presses a kiss to Stede's thigh. "Gonna make you feel so good, sweet thing. Both of us, aren't we?"
"Fuck yes," Ed breathes.
"You think you're ready, babe? Want to get Ed's dick in you, start getting you stretched out?" There's something about the affectionate sweetness of Blackbeard's tone, asking such filthy things, that goes straight to Ed's cock.
Suddenly his trousers are intolerable, and he shoves them down, brushing against Stede's lower back, his ass.
"Edward, I need you in me, please." Fuck, it's so goddamn hot when Stede begs like this, lost to everything except this one urge.
"I'm here, sweet. Don't worry, I’ve got you." He slicks himself up, pushes in just a little. Stede moans, and almost involuntarily Ed presses in deeper.
"Like that, oh, just like that," he says, gasping for breath. Ed can feel the press of it every time he inhales and isn't that a fucking thing, feeling how he's taking Stede apart.
"Want my mouth back on you?" Blackbeard asks. Stede nods, and Ed can feel it when Blackbeard takes him in once again, the way Stede shoves his hips forward.
"Be nice," Ed chides gently. Blackbeard looks up at them both and grabs Ed's hip. He thrusts deeper, pushing Stede's cock further into Blackbeard's mouth.
"I don't think he wants that," Stede says, smiling. It's mischievous, but also fond. "Would you help me oblige, darling?"
"Gladly."
Stede gets his hand back into Blackbeard's hair, curving fingers behind his head. Ed takes that as a cue to move, thrusting into that sweet, tight heat. Stede keeps Blackbeard's head where it is, letting Ed help fuck him deeper into Blackbeard's throat.
And oh it is obscene looking down at this, dizzying arousal swirling around in his body until he can scarcely think. Blackbeard looks even more incredible like this, Stede’s cock moving against his mouth, and Ed tries not to stare. He doesn't know how much time has passed when Blackbeard works in a finger next to Ed's dick. They still, both waiting for Stede.
"All right, love?" Ed asks, since he's not the one with his mouth full (and he blushes at that, glad his skin is too dark for it to show).
"Bloody splendid. Now move please," Stede snaps, and Ed feels such exasperated fondness for this man, a ridiculous contrast when he's this deep inside him. But he does start fucking Stede again, trusting Blackbeard to match his rhythm. Blackbeard presses another finger inside, and he and Stede both groan at it.
Blackbeard pulls off, looks up at Stede. "Oh sweetheart, I wish you could see how good you look when you take both of us. Like you were born for it."
"You feel incredible." Ed presses a kiss to the spot right behind Stede's earlobe. "So fucking unbelievable it feels like a dream."
"If that's the case, I never want to wake up," Stede replies.
Blackbeard huffs in amusement, then gets up off the floor. "Gonna need to do some adjusting for this next part, babe." He undoes his pants, shoving them down.
Ed sits on the bed, pulling Stede back onto his cock. He's open, more than usual, and knowing why almost overwhelms him.
Blackbeard grabs the oil and slicks himself up. It's so strange to Ed, watching himself(?), knowing this is how he looks when Stede is the only thing on his mind. Because this is something that will never change about him, no matter how he gets split apart or recombined. Every version of himself loves and will love this strange, ridiculous, wonderful man with every cell of his being.
Blackbeard coaxes Stede's legs up, then around his waist. He goes slow, making sure Stede has time to adjust. It's agonizing the way he moves, rocking against them both.
"You're doing so good, sweet thing, so so good," Blackbeard says, a little breathless. 'Look so fucking pretty with both of us in you, a goddamn vision."
He's in deep as he's able, and when he moves Ed cries out; hot, tight sweetness and the drag of Blackbeard's cock against his. It's nothing he's felt before, and he thinks he might combust, overwhelmed with sensation.
Blackbeard catches his eye, tilts his head. Ed nods, and they begin to move together, slow but deep. He feels the hitch of Stede's breath when they press in, and Ed drops a kiss to his neck, right at the pulse.
It is apparently enough to be overstimulating, the way Stede makes this desperate, broken noise and arches against Ed as far as he's able. He's fucking beautiful like this, golden lashes against his face, mouth open and spit-slick from kisses, lost in rapturous sensation.
"Fuck, sweetheart, you look incredible," Ed murmurs against his ear. "Taking us like you were made for it. Do we make you feel good?"
Stede nods, just a little, like it's the best he can manage in his current state; and it makes Ed want to go off like a shot.
Blackbeard must be feeling similarly, the way he gets even deeper than before and moans, this absolutely filthy noise Ed will probably hear every time he jerks off for the rest of his life. (It passed weird a long time ago; he’s just going to roll with it.)
"Let us see you darlin', wanna feel you feel good." Blackbeard sounds like he's barely hanging on.
"You going to come for us, sweet?" Ed wants to feel Stede shake apart, absolutely wrecked because of them.
"Yes, oh god, god—" Stede makes a noise somewhere between a gasp and a sob and comes all over himself. (And a little on Blackbeard.) Ed can feel the pulse of it, the rhythmic clench around him, and it is a wrenching, violent sweetness that makes him cry out, Blackbeard close behind.
It takes a minute for them all to gather their wits somewhat. Blackbeard pulls out, making a face at the sensation (it is weird, Ed agrees). Ed follows, letting Blackbeard take Stede's weight for a moment as he moves to the side. Ed holds Stede as he gets his bearings, murmuring comforting nonsense. Blackbeard presses his forehead to Stede's, wipes away tears with his fingers.
"How you feeling, sweetheart?" he asks, brushing his thumb against Stede's cheek.
"Extremely well-fucked." Stede's voice still has a bit of breathiness to it. He looks absolutely debauched, flushed with exertion, hair clinging damp to his forehead. There's a dazed little smile on his face, and Ed is amazed at how he always finds new expressions of Stede's to love.
Blackbeard chuckles and kisses the tip of Stede's nose before going in search of water and cloths. But first he has to take off his trousers, and Ed is gratified to see neither of them have figured out how to make this look dignified.
Ed kicks off his pants and shirt while he waits, makes sure Stede is comfortable. Blackbeard returns with a basin and washcloths. They fuss over Stede first, cleaning him up before doing the same to themselves. Blackbeard’s still in the top part of his get-up, and Ed beckons him over so he can help.
“I can’t say I miss this part,” he says, pulling straps through buckles until it’s open on one side. “Doesn’t breathe at all. Don’t suppose I could get you to try a black linen at least? Still intimidating, much cooler.”
“I’ll think about it,” Blackbeard says, quirking his mouth.
They glance over at Stede, who is passed out cold, snoring lightly. Ed meets Blackbeard’s eyes and they stifle their giggles together.
“Poor dear, we wore him out completely.” Blackbeard brushes a lock of hair back from Stede’s forehead.
“I think he had fun,” Ed replies. He climbs over Stede, wedges himself next to the window.
Blackbeard looks a bit hesitant, like he’s not sure he’s allowed.
It’s Ed’s turn to roll his eyes. “We both just fucked him silly, I think you’re allowed a cuddle if you want it.” He holds out his hand. Blackbeard takes it, and tucks himself against Stede’s other side. He doesn’t let Ed’s hand go, and they settle their entwined fingers over Stede’s hip.
It’s quiet for long enough Ed’s startled by a whisper. “Ed?”
He lifts his head, peers over Stede’s shoulder. “Mm?”
“I know all this has been weird, but that was good for you, right?” It’s the first time he’s seen Blackbeard hesitant, unsure of himself.
At first he doesn’t know what to say. Everything has been so strange he's not even sure he could say it's been anything other than weird. But the more he thinks about it, yeah, it has been good.
"It was great."
Blackbeard smiles, settles back down. "I’m glad."
—
Ed wakes up, a little confused to see it still dark. Stede must have flopped over at some point, because he’s on his stomach, still snoring. There’s no sign of Blackbeard.
He climbs over Stede, looks through the cabin. He peeks into the auxiliary closet and the ensuite. Maybe he’s on deck. His clothes are gone, so it’s a logical conclusion.
He grabs one of Stede’s dressing gowns, one that’s at least opaque, and gets into his boots. He scans the main deck, looks out at the ocean. The sky is clouding over, the water starting to become choppy. His knee grumbles in a familiar way.
Up on the quarterdeck, Ivan is minding the helm. “Boss,” he says, giving a little nod.
“Has anybody come out of our cabin that you’ve seen?” Ed asks, even though he probably knows the answer.
Ivan looks at him, confused. “Nobody as far as I can tell. Just you.”
“As you were, then.” He slaps Ivan on the shoulder, who gives a confused shrug and turns his attention back to the wheel.
He heads to the prow, where he finds Buttons contemplating the ocean, Olivia perching on the rail next to him.
“Right proper storm comin’ in,” he says. “Dinnae think I’d be pleased to see one, but after today?”
“I know what you mean.” The wind starts to pick up, bringing with it the smell of rain.
“Best get inside Cap’n, afore ye get wet.”
Ed nods and makes his way back into the cabin, wondering at the prickle in his chest. Blackbeard is him—part of him anyways. How do you miss part of yourself?
He sits on the bed, leans against the wall. He intended to wait until Stede rouses, but he’s woken by a gentle touch to his cheek.
“There you are,” Stede smiles, all soft and glowing, like his love for Ed can’t help but leak bright into the world.
“Here I am,” he says. Both of us. All of me? He’s never going to find words to adequately describe what happened. But maybe he doesn’t need them.
It starts to rain, heavy pounding drops rattling against the window and the deck above them. He thinks he might hear an indignant squawk.
“Come here, darling.” Stede tugs him over. Ed takes off the dressing gown and hangs it on a peg. He curls himself around Stede, tugs the covers over them both.
Stede falls asleep again, lulled by the sound of the rain and Ed’s closeness. Before Ed does the same, he thinks about the bales of cloth they took off a merchant ship in a raid. There’s got to be a bolt of black linen in there somewhere. Maybe he’ll see if Frenchie can do something with it.