waiting to finally be caught

As much as they all love the pirates' life (at least as it is on the Revenge), too much time in close quarters means civility becomes strained, no matter how hard they try to remain amiable. It’s been weeks out at sea, and when Stede announces they’re going to dock in Nassau for a bit, a weary cheer goes up from the crew. As they scatter to their various duties, he overhears snatches of conversation about the things they’re going to do when they reach land.

“And what about you, darling?” Ed is leaning against the railing and Stede tucks himself under his arm. “Any plans for your shore leave?”

Ed pretends to think about it. Stede knows because there’s a glint of mischief in his eyes. “I dunno. A big fuck-off bed, maybe. You in it. Get all our meals sent up so we never have to leave the room.” His hand drifts lower, rests at Stede’s hip.

“That does sound lovely. But I wondered if you’d like to explore some less inhabited parts of the island? No treasure hunts, just a bit of nature and a little waterfall with a place to swim.” He laces his fingers into Ed’s. “I could get Roach to make up a picnic, put in some of those little cakes.”

“S’pose there’s no reason we can’t do both.”

Stede gives him a kiss on the cheek, rests his head on Ed’s shoulder. “I look forward to it.”

—

Nassau remains a welcome respite, despite the number of terrible things that seem to happen every time they step within. But before anybody can take their leisure, they all have things to do. Stede sends the crew out to procure supplies while he and Ed negotiate the, ah, offloading of their cargo. He thinks he’s getting better at bargaining, since he doesn’t catch Ed giving the fences murder eyes whenever he thinks Stede’s not looking. (Or Ed’s getting better at hiding them. That’s always possible too.)

At long last, arrangements are made and coin exchanged. He, Ed, and the crew regroup at an inn they’ve come to adopt as their own when they visit. It’s wonderful to sit, eat, and drink with his love and their compatriots—no, family. Pleasantly full of ale and simple but well-made food, he leans against Ed and thinks that life does not get better than it does right now.

Which is, of course, when the universe takes notice and throws a giant fucking spanner in the works.

“Duarte?” a voice says. Stede is confused. That’s not a name or nickname he’s familiar with for anybody at the table.

Ed looks up and his face brightens. Stede is almost overwhelmed by a flare of envy that he tries to tamp back down. “Gil? Holy shit mate, it’s been ages!”

He gets up from the table to hug this… Gil, slapping his back like he’s a long-lost friend. Gil kisses Ed on the cheek, not in an unfriendly way, but still more affectionate than Stede would prefer. When they move apart, it’s not far. Ed's arm rests on Gil's shoulders. The other man is short, about Izzy's height, and has an arm slung around Ed's waist.

Stede takes a drink of ale, trying to be subtle as he looks the other man over. He’s absolutely stunning (not as gorgeous as Ed of course, but definitely respectable competition), with tousled salt-and-pepper hair that curls invitingly. His beard is close-cropped, accentuating the strong line of his jaw. His shirt is linen, plain but well made, unbuttoned to reveal a bit of skin, lighter brown than Ed's. His pants are leather, tan instead of black, and the fit of them against his legs and behind leaves very little to the imagination.

Gil says something to Ed, too low to make out from this distance, but there’s an easy smile on his face, and his eyes crinkle in delight when Ed laughs.

Stede decides that he dislikes this man.

Lucius, on the other hand, is entranced. The rest of the crew looks a bit starry-eyed as well, and he upgrades the dislike to outright loathing.

“You going to introduce us to your friend, Captain Teach?” Lucius asks, too sweet by far.

“Of course, lad. Rude of me to not have done so earlier. Everybody, this is Gilberto Salvador, an old shipmate from back in the day. Fuck, how long has it been?” Ed looks at Gil.

“A long time. Before Hornigold,” he answers. Before Jack even, Stede’s brain helpfully supplies.

“Last I heard, which might not be accurate anymore, you were the quartermaster on the Rogue’s Cross.”

Gil laughs. “That was like ten years ago, Duarte. I’ve been on my own for six." It's a pleasant voice, relaxed and good humored. He still doesn’t like it.

"Have you, then? What's your ship?"

He grins wide and he is absolutely beautiful. Stede hates him. "That brigantine docked by the northern beach, the Euterpe. Captured her from the English navy."

Ed’s eyebrows shoot up, impressed. "Fucking hell, Gil. You've done well for yourself.” He tugs him over. “Come sit, you can get to know our crew. And Stede, of course." Ed slides back into his chair, smiles at Stede. It should make him feel better, reassured, but instead it puts him into more of a sulk.

"The Gentleman Pirate," Gil says, peering down from his ridiculously long lashes. "I've heard so much about you, it's an honor to meet you in person."

"A pleasure," Stede replies, lying through his teeth. He shakes Gil's hand as curtly as he can manage, although he doesn’t think that's something they teach in pirate school.

The crew introduces themselves, almost tripping over in their eagerness to try and impress Gil. Jim says something in rapid-fire Spanish, and laughs at his reply. (Judging by Oluwande's face, that was not the reaction he expected.) Lucius flirts shamelessly, and Gil flirts right back. Stede doesn't think he's ever seen Lucius blush before, not like that. Even Izzy (Izzy!) does not appear to be immune to the man's charms, deigning to have a discussion about quartermastering or something equally boring.

"'Duarte?'" He looks at Ed, who shrugs.

"What, you didn't have nicknames when you were younger?"

"None that I'd actually want to be called."

He does feel a little bad when Ed winces. "Sorry, mate," he says, knocking against his shoulder. "It's short for 'Edward' in Spanish. Actually practical, since there was another guy with the same name on our ship, and it just stuck."

"Ah." He takes another drink so he doesn't have to talk more.

Stede thinks he may be able to endure this until it's not impolite to excuse himself, but then Frenchie actually hands over his lute and of course Gil plays and sings. And of fucking course he's good at it too, strumming a melody to accompany a melancholy folk ballad. It's not one Stede's heard before, all about hesitation, regret and life passing the narrator by.

So maybe it hits a nerve when he's already not feeling great and a bit maudlin from drink. As everybody claps he refills his tankard, drains it a little quicker than normal.

Gil launches into a lively tune, a shanty everybody knows, and if it were any other night, he would lean against Ed and let the sound wash over him. It's at that moment Ed slips an arm around his waist, kisses Stede's temple. Suddenly everything is too much, and he needs to be not here: damn politeness, decorum, and Gil fucking Salvador.

He pushes past Ed, not really aware of where his feet are taking him until he sees the inside of their room. He thinks this will be better, but no, it's just quieter, with the ability to actually hear his thoughts.

A knock, then the door opens. Ed slips into the room, closes it behind him.

"You didn't need to check on me." He's aware of how petulant he sounds, but he can't bring himself to be ashamed of it. (Which is, of course, why he's terrible.)

"I know. I wanted to." Now Stede feels even worse, taking Ed away from the merriment and a chance to catch up with his friend.

"Go back downstairs, I'm sure they miss you already. And I imagine you and Gil have a great deal to talk about."

If Ed were a sensible man he would retreat and leave Stede to his misery, slip back into their room after a night of carousing and sleep until the sun is high. But in so many ways he's absolutely barmy, especially when it comes to Stede. Usually it works out in his favor. This time it does not.

"They just spent weeks with me breathing down their necks, they're glad to be rid of me. And I don't want to talk to Gil enough that I’m willing to ignore you not being all right.”

There’s something about his tone that makes him shove Ed against the door, push a rough kiss against his mouth. He wants to bite at Ed, feel him shiver and groan against his body.

"Tell me if you want to stop," he says, pulling Ed closer by the edge of his shirt.

"No complaints," Ed says, and Stede tugs at his lower lip. He didn't intend to draw blood, but oh well. He soothes the wound with his tongue, tastes the copper of it. Ed makes a noise and gets his fingers into Stede's hair, grabbing enough to pull, just a little bit.

It's not painful but he feels the potential of it, the difference between unmarked skin and a thin line of red. He sucks a bruise into Ed's neck, high enough it will rub against a cravat. Stede feels the need to leave a mark, to remind him of Stede's presence in his bed and his life. It's stupid and petty and even if Ed takes it in stride, likes it even; it's so terribly insecure.

But Stede's not particularly interested in being virtuous tonight, if Ed has decided to spend the rest of the evening with him. He should send Ed back downstairs, but he is a churlish, selfish man, and craves every bit of time possible.

"To the bed, darling. I want you." He leads them the few steps to the bed, which truly is fuck-off big.

After they kick off their shoes, Ed sits down, reaches for the buttons on Stede's shirt. Stede catches his hand, kissing those dear, lovely fingers.

"I'd like to take care of you tonight my sweet, if you want that?"

Ed's eyes darken at the question, his breath drawn in sharp. "Please," he says.

"I can refuse you nothing, but especially when you ask so prettily," Stede replies, working his way down Ed's shirt. Silver hair still streaked with dark patches peeks through the gap. He is so absolutely lovely, Stede's chest aches with it.

Stede tugs the shirt off, draping it over a chair. He unlaces Ed's trousers, pulling them down along with his smalls. He takes the chance to palm Ed's dick, already hard just from kissing, and Ed pushes against it, a little noise in the back of his throat.

"Lay back, darling. I want to see you."

Ed scoots until he can stretch out fully on the bed, kicking off everything as he goes. What a marvel he is, all that beautiful skin and ink Stede is going to take his time savoring.

He settles on top of Ed, kissing him fierce and insistent. Ed opens for it, letting Stede ravage his mouth. He settles a hand at Stede's nape, clutches a fist into Stede's shirt and pulls. They're flush now, heat from Ed's skin soaking through.

Stede rocks his hips, rubbing up against Ed's naked cock. Ed groans at it, nowhere near enough of what he needs.

"Stede, get your fucking pants off. Please." Ed's rucking Stede's shirt up, trying to get to the fastenings of his breeches.

Stede moves, just enough to undo his pants and shove them down. Ed tugs at the shirt, pulling it over Stede's head. When he can see again Ed's staring at him: hungry, wanting.

It has taken a long time for Stede to understand how to be desired. He's getting better at stamping down the little voice that insists he deserves none of this (although it's never exactly clear what "this" encompasses). While he may forget sometimes, getting lost in his head like he did tonight, Ed never does.

"You noticed, didn't you? That I was getting into one of my moods." It is a thing Stede will always be touched by, the way Ed is perpetually attentive to his happiness.

"Your poker face is awful, mate." Ed tries to make it sound like an incidental observation, but his tone is a little too breezy.

Stede leans down, kisses him slow and soft. "You are so good to me, Edward, and I intend to show my appreciation." He works his way down Ed's torso, biting and sucking leisurely. There's a bit of fluid trickling down his cock, and Stede swipes at it, getting as much on his fingers as he can.

Ed groans, low and punched out. "Stede." It's needy in a way he'll never get tired of, knowing Ed craves him like this.

He takes Ed's cock in as far as he can comfortably, tongue stroking the underside. It's faintly salt-bitter, something he's only ever tasted here. He closes his eyes, focusing on the sensation of hard flesh under velvet skin. Stede has no idea if he likes sucking cock in general, but he loves doing it to Ed's, knowing he's the cause of the beautiful moans and gasps above him.

He wraps his hand around the rest of Ed's length, relaxes his mouth a bit. He's wet for this, here and where he's pressed against the mattress; and saliva pools out, easing the way as he moves his hand.

Stede thinks Ed might be clutching a pillow, the way his upper body goes a little rigid; and he huffs, just a little smug. He works his slick hand underneath Ed, pressing fingers between his cheeks.

Ed makes a noise, anticipatory. Stede just traces around his entrance, feeling Ed squirm in impatience under him. He stays on Ed's dick, works in a finger as he takes him a little deeper.

He must have hit the right spot, the way Ed gasps and arches underneath him, pushing further down his throat. It's better than any opium he can imagine, making Ed (usually an attentive, considerate lover) forget himself so much he's focused only on his pleasure.

"Fuck, Stede. Your mouth." Ed gets his fingers into Stede's hair; not pulling, just tangling and present. It is startlingly gentle, tender in a way he wasn't expecting; and Stede makes a noise at it. "Always make me feel so good."

He closes his eyes at the praise, concentrating on his task. He adds another finger, relishing the way Ed shudders and tightens around him, greedy and wanting.

Ed moves, trying to get Stede's fingers in deep as he can. "I'm ready, please. Wanna feel you."

Stede pulls off and out, and Ed makes a noise even though he must have anticipated it. He kisses Ed's hip in apology and reassurance: I'm still here. Stede reaches for the bottle on the little table by the bed, thankful it is one of the things that always gets unpacked first.

He oils up his hand and starts to spread it over his cock when he glances down at Ed. His eyes are dark, staring like he's never wanted anything more in his life than Stede's dick inside him. His breath catches at the intensity of Ed’s gaze, ravenous and burning. His chest aches at it, the realization of being perceived, his heart spilling over.

"My darling. I can't wait to have you." He presses against Ed, pushes in. The stretch of it makes Ed moan and dig a heel against the small of his back, urging him down. He's still for a moment, surrounded by the lush heat of Ed's body.

"Move." Ed says in a tone he probably meant to be demanding but ended as a plea, canting his hips up.

"As you like." He fucks Ed slow, the leisurely drag of it winding him up so, so gorgeously. His eyes flutter shut, mouth open like a painting of a saint in ecstasy. Ed is always beautiful, but the way he looks right now beneath Stede; hair fanned out, the most delectable sounds falling from his lips? Oh, he is exquisite.

"My dearest, my heart." Stede murmurs endearments against Ed's skin between kisses. They are no longer possessives, but orisons of joy, wonder, gratitude. His place in Ed's life and bed is not something he has a right to but is given, by this man who he adores, loves, calls his friend.

He could not have dreamed about this in his old life, for a thing must be conceived of before it can be wanted. Ed gives him new eyes, a fresh approach to the world he will spend the rest of his life learning to understand, appreciate. It is a gift beyond measure, something he hopes he can communicate with his body.

"Is this what you need, my sweet?" He snaps his hips, making Ed cry out.

"Like that, just like that, fuck," Ed's voice is ragged, like he's barely hanging on. It's a heady feeling, knowing he can take Ed apart like this, make him feel this good. He continues apace, until all he can hear from Ed is a litany of mostly incoherent noises.

He's close, but he wants this more than his own completion, to watch Ed arching underneath him, chasing his.

"Let me see you, my darling."

Almost immediately, Ed's climax rolls over him in a beautiful shudder, clenching sweet pulsing tight. It pulls Stede over in a white haze that obliterates anything other than Ed beneath him, all the places they touch.

He comes back to himself resting his forehead against Ed's shoulder, feeling gentle, lazy strokes at the back of his head. It takes him a bit to figure out how to make his limbs work again, flopping on his back next to Ed.

"Oh my god," he says, very wittily. Ed just chuckles, low and fond. Stede is so extremely in love with him.

—

They lay together, long enough Stede’s voice is startling in the quiet that’s settled on them.

“I apologize. I behaved atrociously in front of everybody. And especially you.” Stede says this low, between Ed’s shoulders where he’s pressed his forehead.

“Hey.” Ed turns over, faces him. “”Nobody’s offended. They just want to know you’re all right. You can talk to them tomorrow, yeah?”

Stede nods. “I will.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” The concern in Ed’s voice is touching.

“I do, but not at the moment.” It is a thing he’s still getting used to, the luxury of contemplating his emotions instead of being tortured by them, and being given the grace to do so.

Ed makes a noise of acknowledgement and pokes Stede’s shoulder until he rolls back onto his side. Ed kisses his nape, wriggles until he’s snug against Stede from head to knees. He falls asleep like that, draped against Stede. He wants to savor the feeling, but it is so relaxing he can’t stay awake at all.

—

They wake up and head downstairs for breakfast, evidently the first up. There are few other patrons, mostly people trying to get a meal in before the start of their day.

After they've been served their food, Stede looks up and sees Gil and Roach walk in together. A bit of a surprise, but a lot of things could have happened while he and Ed were otherwise… occupied. After a short conversation, Gil gives Roach a peck on the mouth. They're both smiling when Roach heads out.

He glances over at Ed, who shrugs. Frenchie comes in and playfully grabs Gil’s ass, laughing delightedly when Gil yelps in surprise. They too speak briefly, Frenchie kissing Gil on the cheek before he leaves.

Gil sees them and walks over. Ed gestures to a chair, but he shakes his head.

“I have to take care of some things, but it was good to see you, however briefly.” There’s no rancor or even annoyance in his tone at being prevented from talking to an old friend.

“Yeah, you too mate.” Ed replies, but there’s a wistful look in his eyes. Gil starts to head for the door.

Stede gets up from the table. “Gil, wait! Please.”

He turns around, his expression inquisitive. “What’s up?”

“I’d like to apologize for my… less than cordial behavior last night. I deprived both you and Ed of the opportunity to catch up.”

"That's kind of you, but no worries. People don't run out of rooms if they're having a good time. I'm glad you're feeling better now." Gil smiles, his eyes crinkling. Stede's face grows hot. He feels like there's moths in his stomach.

"Well. Thank you." He clears his throat. "If you're free, I'd like to invite you to dinner, either on land or the Revenge. And if you'd like me to clear out afterwards so you can talk to Ed, I can do that too."

Stede didn't think Gil's smile could get even brighter, but somehow it has. "I was planning to head out with the next tide, but that's the great thing about being captain—you can do what you want. And what I want is to catch up with an old friend, and maybe get to know a new one." He lifts Stede's hand, brushes his lips against the back of it. (He absolutely does not stifle the urge to giggle because he's that flustered.)

"Hey, dickfuck! Don't I get one too?" Ed calls. He's grinning.

Gil smirks. "I suppose I do owe you one from Tortuga." He goes over to Ed, kisses him slow and deep. There’s definitely tongue, and something flares in Stede’s brain, bright hot and wanting.

They break away from each other, Ed breathing a little heavy, his eyes darker. It’s a good look on him, regardless of who put it there.

“See you tonight?” Gil catches both their eyes.

“Um, yes, of course.” Stede replies.

Gil kisses Ed’s cheek, a brief, soft peck before doing the same to Stede. “I look forward to it.”

After he leaves, Stede sits back down, pokes at his food.

Ed nuzzles at the spot behind Stede’s ear, the one that always makes him shiver. “Still want to go picnic at waterfalls and whatever?”

He shakes his head and picks up his plate. “No, I rather think your idea is much better.”

Ed laughs. “I do always have the best ones.”

Later, laying in bed, the window open to catch the breeze, Stede absolutely agrees he does.