By no means meant to be a comprehensive collection, but things are being produced so quickly in such numbers, here are my favorites of what I’ve read so far. I’ve limited myself to one per author, but keep in mind many of these writers have written several fics for the fandom. In no particular order.:
Aftercareby@perkynurples (M, 32K, WIP) - I have a tendency to avoid WIPs in favor of finished fics, but this one is worth it. A reunion of Stede and Ed with a slow working-through of their issues, both individually and as a couple. There’s so many insightful moments and symbols in this fic, I’ve been impressed so many times.
Time Makes You Bolder, Children Get Older by mtothedestial/ @summersteve (M, 13K) - I waited until this one was finished to read it and that was a lovely decision. It’s a Persuasion AU, and ABO and Ed and Stede fit into this world and this story so well. The author has a good track record with historical fics and it shows. This is just lovely, romantic, sexy, and perfect.
we came untarnishedby@propinquitous (E, 5K) - Smut set during the course of S1, but beautifully written smut. In this one, Stede is the more experienced because m/m sex was fairly common in the upperclass at the time.
on the bed of this blue ocean by kirkaut (T, 9K) - An Ed POV fic set after the end of S2, of him learning that Stede is dead, grieving him, and then deciding how to pick himself up and go on with his life. Deciding who he wants to be without Stede. Turning back from the Kraken and trying to reconcile himself into a more whole person. Only then to reunite with Stede.
Cleave the Pin by DarkIsRising (E, 7K) - Stede as he tries to return to Ed realizes he’s never been very good in bed and worrying about it with his crew. Only to be reunited with Ed and finding out he shouldn’t have worried. It’s a very funny fic with a sexy resolution.
Break down, it’s alright by rowenablade (E, 3K) - Just a really well done reunion fic with a good dose of angst and crying leading into soft resolution sex.
I’m Glad I Spent It With You by soft-october (T, 3K) - A reunion fix-it set pretty immediately after the end of the season, with the entire crew returning to the Revenge, reuniting with their lost crewmates, and an eventual conversation between Ed and Stede that leads to kissing. Definitely a comfort fic that includes everyone.
Close Quarters by FortinbrasFTW (E, 4K) - A pre-finale fic in which Stede and Ed are trapped in a small closet and Ed is claustrophobic and Stede manages to talk him out of a panic attack. And then there is kissing and fooling around and mild kink and nothing hurts.
Dryocampa Rubicunda by forestsprites (G, 2K) - Ed post-breakup working through his feelings, talking to a moth as therapy. Heavy on the angst without real resolution, but a well-done character piece.
Benediction by Springandastorm (T, 2K) -I can’t possibly convey this fic better than by quoting the author’s note: me seeing taika waititi play a silly little pirate: i need to write about him recontextualizing his traumatic relationship with his body through the divine act of being touched.
Unseen by Fyre/ @amuseoffyre (T, 4K) - Fyre has given so many gifts of fic to this fandom that it was difficult to limit myself to only one. But I chose what I think is my personal favorite, a fic in which Stede assists Ed in having a bath. It’s just so soft and sensual and has so much sexual and romantic tension that it has STUCK with me.
Edelweiss by draculard (G, 2K) Stede’s life, told through the language of flowers. Featuring angst and a reunion and resolution for Ed and Stede.
Bonus:
(I’ve literally never recced my own fic on one of my rec posts but I guess I’m proud of this one, and if it was someone else’s fic I’d rec it so, fine.)
Slow Dance by threerings (M, 1K) Post-reunion fic in which Stede and Ed negotiate their sexual relationship, the dynamics and pacing thereof.
to myself that until I drew something, I wouldn’t write anything about the ending… (I’m a beast, ye)
@justkeeptrekkin,I love it so much, the last chapter (and the epilogue) is fine, I haven’t read anything like this for a long time, Many thanks to the author, I’m happy, really happy now
Ps: most of all, of course, I laughed at Buttons and Moonbeam
how it started: OFMD was fun, i liked more about it than i disliked, but I’m probably never going to come back to it now I’m watched it
how it continued: people who are attracted to izzy hands are deranged (affectionate, but confused) but some of them are amazing writers and they’re not wrong that he’s a deeply traumatised questionably-canonically-queer liar, and that doesdescribe pretty much every character I get invested in these days
how it’s currently going: I am halfway through writing a scene were stede accidentally asks izzy hands if he’s a dom and izzy laughs so hard he cries at the concept that he might ever top anyone and then threatens to murder stede if he ever tells anyone that he’s capable of laughing.
Pairings:Stede/Ed, Ed/Izzy, Stede & Izzy learning not to completely hate each other
Tags: poly negotiations, no one in this show is okay, Ed just straight up failing to notice he’s been functionally married to Izzy for the past 30 years and should have checked first before getting a new boyfriend, Stede has no idea what polyamory is but he’s going to make these idiots talk about their feelings if it kills him, Ed Stede and Izzy are Lucius’s own personal soap opera, there’s hardcore BDSM going on just out of shot but this is mostly just people drinking tea and talking about their feelings
~*~
“You’re a fucking lunatic,” Ed says, and it sounds exactly as much like a compliment as it always should, coming from him. “God, I love you.”
“The feeling is entirely mutual, darling. Now for God’s sake, talk to your… your Izzy, before he shoots one of us.”
Pairings: Ed/Stede, Ed/Izzy, Stede & Lucius bromance, Stede & Izzy learning not to immediately murder one another on sight
Chapter: 3/5
Tags: poly negotiations, no one in this show is okay, Ed just straight up failing to notice he’s been functionally married to Izzy for the past 30 years and should have checked first before getting a new boyfriend, Stede has no idea what polyamory is but he’s going to make these idiots talk about their feelings if it kills him, Ed Stede and Izzy are Lucius’s own personal soap opera, there’s hardcore BDSM going on just out of shot but this is mostly just people drinking tea and talking about their feelings
~*~
Izzy rolls his eyes. “Tell Ed, next time he’s thinking about calling me a whore he can do it to my fucking face.”
Pairing(s): Stede/Edward, Edward/Izzy, Stede & Lucius bromance
Rating:T
Chapter:2/6
Tags: poly negotiations, no one in this show is okay, Ed just straight up failing to notice he’s been functionally married to Izzy for the past 30 years and should have checked first before getting a new boyfriend, Stede has no idea what polyamory is but he’s going to make these idiots talk about their feelings if it kills him, Ed Stede and Izzy are Lucius’s own personal soap opera, this is mostly just people drinking tea and talking about their feelings
~*~
“I’ve, I’ve thought about it. I’d never do it, I’d cut my own hands off before hurting you, but when I’m having a wank, sometimes I can’t keep from thinking about it. About what it’d be like if you were… If your crazy fit mine that way.”
There’s still so much he doesn’t understand, but he feels like he’s starting to see the shape of it, at least. “Izzy’s crazy fits yours, doesn’t it?”
Pairing(s): Stede/Edward, Edward/Izzy, Stede & Lucius bromance
Rating:T
Tags: poly negotiations, no one in this show is okay, Ed just straight up failing to notice he’s been functionally married to Izzy for the past 30 years and should have checked first before getting a new boyfriend, Stede has no idea what polyamory is but he’s going to make these idiots talk about their feelings if it kills him, Ed Stede and Izzy are Lucius’s own personal soap opera, this is mostly just people drinking tea and talking about their feelings
~*~
“No, no, it wasn’t like that. They, well, Ed at least, think I told them to.”
Lucius raises a single, disbelieving eyebrow. “Blackbeard thinks you told him to fuck his ex, the same ex who has Blackbeard’s signature tattooed on his face?!”
Chapter 4 is the first part of a two-part “episode”: After a shipboard accident, the guys realize they need to step up their communication game–professionally and personally.
Part 1 starts out with a gen focus but ends with some kink. It includes the setup (the accident) and then the personal side of the communication problem, as Ed realizes that he hasn’t been listening to Izzy and starts working to make it up to him–including a special BDSM evening. (Part 2 will be gen-focused, as we turn to the workplace side, with the ship’s first ever Professional Development Day.)
New Things include:
a Vacation Day for Izzy
Ed inventing safewords, and we also get,
Ed’s POV on their usual kink activity
Izzy getting a bit silly during the aftercare portion
If you missed it the first time–or if you’re like me and you’re reading a ton of fic RN– To Force His Hand is the one where Izzy has one (1) coping skill, and it’s Ed beating him up until he cries. The first chapter of this fic was the one where they do a pirate raid, and Izzy steals Edward some lemon curd and angsts about it. The second chapter is the one where Izzy reluctantly joins Ed and Stede for a scrapbooking session, and gets very into making little collages of sailing ships. The third chapter is the one where Ed and Izzy try flogging; Izzy gets something out of it, but it doesn’t make him cry.
Ko-fi is here, if you’d like to buy me some delicious lemon curd & encourage more of this nonsense. (However, I’m doing okay for money at the moment, so don’t worry about it if you’re short.)
I started a fill for an “Everyone on The Revenge is some kind of creature AU” prompt, but with other fics currently taking precedence, I don’t know when/if I’ll get around to finishing it. So here, have the snippet for WIP Wednesday ^_^
They said that birds of a feather flocked together. Turns out that Creatures were no different.
“I literally just saw a posting,” Lucius said, hand waving to encompass the absurdity of that. Oluwande nodded. “It was tacked up by the butcher’s. ‘Pirate Crew Wanted’ in this fancy script, real nice parchment, he must have paid the printer a fortunefor it. And I figured why not. Let’s check it out. If the Captain’s open-minded enough to keep a scribe on board — and crazy enough to advertise — maybe he won’t give a damn about my pedigree.” They both stared up at the helm where Stede was having some argument with Buttons, pointing towards the sea and shaking his head. “I considered myself lucky when he signed me on, but now…”
“Now you wonder if he realizes?” Oluwande asked.
“Yeah.”
“I mean same, man.” Oluwande gestured towards his mouth, lips folded carefully over his teeth. “Obviously I wasn’t reading any fancy postings, but a friend of a friend mentioned that a new captain was accepting Creatures on board, so… yeah. Exactly. Why not try? I was realblunt with him, you know? Made all kinds of promises about how I’d never feed on the crew, but I’d need to occasionally make port for food, you know the drill. Captain just muttered something about me being the second crew member obsessed with cannibalism. Cannibalism?” Oluwande’s face pinched, drawing a laugh out of Lucius. “Then I come on board and fuck, he’s got livestock and an actual barrel of blood for some fancy pudding, I don’t even know. Never been this full in my life, but… it’s weird, isn’t it? You think if I just, like, showedhim my fangs he’d catch on?”
For a moment they watched Stede speaking emphatically while Buttons steadily removed his clothes. Finally their captain threw up his hands and retreated below deck, thus missing when Buttons grew gills and dove over the ship’s side.
“I think he’d compliment you on your very excellent dental care,” Lucius drawled.
“Jesus Christ.”
His eyes slid towards Oluwande, languid and inviting. “You know, if you ever didget hungry, I’m available. It’s not like a bit of lost blood is gonna do me in.”
“Really?” Oluwande snorted. “For a price though, right?”
“Well yeah, but I’m not exactly picky. I don’t want your firstborn.” Lucius gave an exaggerated shudder. “Just give me a small portion of your lunch. Or offer a back-rub if you’re feeling frisky. Trades can be anything, really. Our reputation has gotten a bit ridiculous if you ask me, especially since I’m not the one who bites.”
“…Yeah, alright. Fair enough. Thanks.”
They were content for a time to just watch the water, a flash of gold that might have been Button’s hair occasionally surfacing between the waves. Lucius cocked his head at the display, considering.
“Huh. I assume the whole 'can’t cross moving water’ thing is bullshit then?” he asked.
night shift [edward teach/stede bonnet | 6547 words | rated m]
Within minutes of Stede being dragged unceremoniously back onboard the Revenge, Ed has a knife pressed to his throat, an ankle hooked around his shin, and a noseful of a scent that even under weeks of dirt and salt is so unmistakably Stede that he has to bite back a sob that claws painfully at his throat.
He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be here, the dregs of his once-crew shouldn’t be here. They have no right to step foot on this ship, this ship that Stede gave up all rights to when he walked away from the one thing Ed had left to offer him. They have no right to be here. Ed doesn’t want them here, Izzy certainly doesn’t want them here, and he’s long past caring about the wants or desires of the skeleton crew he’s managed to keep. He should send them away, throw them all overboard, anything to put as many miles between his ship and Stede fucking Bonnet as he can.
His brain and his heart seem, miraculously, to be on the same page; but his body is rebelling, tension he’d forgotten he was even carrying seeping out of his bones for the first time in weeks at the too-familiar press of Stede’s body against his, the scent of his skin, the grip of his fingers in the sleeve of Ed’s jacket.
There’s dirt under his fingernails, Ed notes.
When he trashed the captain’s quarters, when he stripped the entire ship of Stede’s presence, there were things left untouched, small items and trinkets tucked away in places he knew Izzy wouldn’t think to look. Under the basin in the small captain’s bathroom, in a box Ed manages to ignore the existence of most of the time, is a block of sweet scented soap, a deathly sharp razor with a polished handle, a hair comb, and a small nail brush.
Even on his worst days, Stede always had a smooth face, combed hair, clean hands and nails.
The man gripping on to Ed’s arm like a lifeline has wind matted hair, a rough jaw, and fingernails blackened with dirt. He’s no longer the same person Ed laid on a dock and waited an entire night for.
He doesn’t know whether to laugh, or cry.
or: stede and his crew are back. ed’s not really ready to deal with that, just yet. [read on ao3]
on ed’s state of mind post-canon. SPOILERS for the ending of our flag means death.
–
These days, it’s so much easier to be Blackbeard than to be Ed.
To tell the truth, it’s always been easy. It was easy from the very first act of violence. He had been beaten down and kicked about by rage and hate, and his father was dumb and easily fooled, and to watch the light go out of his eyes had been the greatest thrill of young Edward Teach’s life. The Kraken had been born then, and ever since it has been so easy to close his eyes and give in to the creature inside.
He’d convinced himself for so long that the creature was all there was to him.
But the days and months piled up. Boredom crept in, the desire for something different. The Ed inside him, long dormant, was waking up.
No - Ed had always been there. Ed was the one stopping his blade every time he made ready to gut a man. Ed was the one that whispered inside him of a loneliness that couldn’t be cured by dalliances with Calico Jack or raucous celebrations with his crew. Those things helped on the surface. Most of the time, Blackbeard convinced himself that Ed was asleep, or maybe even finally dead. But Ed always came back, wanting something else. Wanting nourishment that Blackbeard couldn’t figure out how to feed him.
And then he happened, and Ed finally was able to crawl out of his dormancy and see the sun for the first time. There had been so much hope then, a sense of overwhelmed giddiness - things were finally changing. He was changing, and it felt so much like a change for the better.
And then …
Anyway. It’s all in the past. He’s Blackbeard now, and for the foreseeable future. Whenever there are people around him, he’s on, so he tries to eschew time alone and stay on deck with his crew as much as possible. He’s picked up a half a dozen decent seamen to replace the motley group of fools that had been jettisoned when his transformation began, and though they’re not as much fun, that was okay, because Blackbeard’s not fun any longer.
He’s a killer again. A killer, even, like he never was before. Every man he runs through, he imagines he is killing Ed, little by little. He must kill and kill until that presence inside him is gone, gone, gone.
But Ed is still there.
On bright days with no wind, when the seas are too calm, he thinks he’ll itch right out of his skin The sun burns right through him.
Nights, when the cool wind touches his cheek, he’s reminded that he lost his beard, once, when he was soft enough to shave it off. It’s been growing since, but slowly, and the protection to his face isn’t as absolute as it once was.
The empty library shelves torture him. He puts driftwood on them, raided treasures, severed hands until they start to smell. He never has enough to fill all of the shelves. They demand books. They demand paper, and leather covers, and him. Ed thinks of that underwater library sometimes and gets queasy. He clutches his head and tries not to think of all the vanished words, never to return.
He replays that night in his head far too often. Tries to figure out what became of Stede. Maybe there’s some other explanation. Maybe something happened to him. But what could have kept him away not just that night but for the full week Ed waited, sitting on the ship’s railing and scanning the horizon for a rowboat?
The optimism that had buoyed his head for those days soon hardened over and fell, leaden, to the bottom of his stomach. Ed would have known if something had happened. He was sure of that. Stede was out there, somewhere in the world, okay. He just … wasn’t coming.
There’s the hope that sits in his heart. Someday they would be hailed by a fearless ship with none of the proper dread at seeing Blackbeard’s flag. When they get close enough, Ed will know it’s him. That hope persists, but with each day that goes by, it keeps not happening. It would be so much easier if he didn’t have any hope left. But he does, and that’s what keeps him hurting.
This was the crux of their division. Stede grinned at Ed as their swords clashed together, pivoting his body to the left. A lesson once learned. There was forgiveness to be found in blood; Stede was willing.
But when Ed’s rapier pierced his flesh, Stede let out a surprised yelp. Slowly, he looked down. Drew in a painful breath.
“You… the wrong side?” Stede whispered.
“Nah, mate.” Blackbeard hissed, stepping closer. “Reckon I got the right side, this time.”
A friend sent me this tweet and that’s an excellent point, actually—Ed signing the Act of Grace with an “X” is proof enough. He can neither read nor write—we can only speculate whether he recognises certain words or letters, or maybe gets a general “feeling” of what’s in any given written material (“tiny fonts is where the tricks are”).
He signs the paper and Stede watches, and his face falls, just a tiny little bit (and my heart breaks haha :)). And sure, that’s because Ed is giving himself up to the English to save his life, even after Stede tells him he doesn’t have to do it.
Just. His face.
And I’m thinking—he musthave noticed. Up to that point, Stede hasn’t really witnessed Ed interact with any written material but seeing that they’re (boy)friends and Stede’s all proper and polite, he didn’t assume and didn’t ask—even if at that point, he already knew literacy wasn’t a particularly pirate-y trait.
And then, Stede didn’t show up. He left. And just imagine.
—
Imagine Stede couldn’t go through with it without saying at least a word. Without a word of apology or explanation, just disappear into thin air. So despite knowing what he knows, Stede writes Ed a note and leaves it at the dock.
Maybe it’s a tiny scrap of paper with a hastily scribbled I’m sorry. Or something more lenghty, a proper apology, some sort of reason, justification, talking about choices, regrets, or owning up to past mistakes. He’s aware Ed won’t be able to read it by himself but Stede still hopes.
He hopes Ed ’s safe. That maybe he finds his way back to the Revenge, or leaves the continent after all, just as planned. Hopes that somehow, somewhere, someone will read it to him.
When he gets back on board of the Revenge, Ed has the note on him at all times.
The air between him and Izzy is tense so Ed sleeps with a weapon under his pillow, just like in the old days, and Stede’s note lies right next to it. If Izzy somehow learned what it was, Ed would never see it again, even if it would cost Izzy his life.
He’s not even close to being ready to learn what’s in the note. Lucius is always somewhere around the ship and Ed knows he could read it to him and not speak a word of it to anyone else (probably under threat but, maybe, also as a kindness? But Ed’s not supposed to believe in kindness. Not anymore).
He unfolds it in his blanket fort probably a thousand times. It’s the only safe place where Ed can hear if anyone’s coming, where he can look at Stede’s fancy handwriting in the dim candlelight, trace the unintelligible words with his finger, maybe even press the paper against his cheek once or twice, but nobody has to know about that.
Ed’s not ready to breach the subject with Lucius. He comes close once but ends up asking the boy to jot down his lyrics. He’s not ready to know the answer to the question he’s been asking himself since he had realised Stede wasn’t coming.
Maybe the crew speculates whether Stede’s still alive. And, Ed thinks, if he isn’t, that note is the last Ed will ever hear from him. He stops taking it out so often once the writing starts to fade and the edges get a little worn. Still, Ed wants those answers. At some point.
And then, Izzy threatens him. He tells Ed he will end his life if he doesn’t get it together. And it’s too much, too much pain, and more to come once he knows what Stede had said so Ed turns the switch.
He starts with Lucius—incidentally, the last person on board who could read the note to him.
Ed’s a wanted man and they won’t be stopping anywhere for a long time. They can’t leave the ship, they can’t step onto dry land and Ed’s glad for it. He can allow his pain to take over once he’s alone but there will be no risk of him getting curious, getting reckless. Of running up to some poor sod, putting a knife up to his throat and barking at him to start reading.
Still, Ed needs that part of him cut out.
Once everything is gone—the books, the clothes, all the fancy junk that only gathered dust and reminded Ed of Stede’s betrayal—there’s one last thing to do.
He folds the note into that old piece of red fabric, a tidy little silk coffin, two birds with one stone. Overboard, gone.
The last mementos of the time when Ed had loved Stede Bonnet—gone.
And then, there’s the lighthouse painting. Not a memento—a warning. A reminder. Don’t get cracked up on those rocks ever again.
My earliest memories are of the wall; rushing toward it so I could crane my neck and stare along its height, clear up to where it scraped at the sky. Those memories carry with them the thrill of something — not forbidden, but not quite allowed. Maybe it was because the wall stood just past the curve of our town, too far for someone as young as I must have been to venture out alone. But I was never punished for going, even during the dry season when we could hear the snarls of young lions at night.
“Was your friend the wall in good spirits today?” Mama would ask when I tottered home, and I would sit at her feet and beg for the story: of the long-ago city whose wall now stood so lonely and quiet, its only survivor. And Mama would huff and tell it again, of the clever queens and kind-hearted kings who were chosen by the gods and who lived to help their people, whose healers were known far and wide. “Not God, of course,” she would add, smiling, “These were the trickster gods of old. Very capricious.
"Is that why the city died?” I asked once, helping her with the shucking. “Because their gods turned against them? Gods are supposed to punish us, aren’t they?”
Mama shrugged and reached for another bowl, her hands flashing quick and sure. “It’s possible,” she said, “But that is not part of the story.”
“Is that why the city died?” I asked another time, when I was older and, I thought — foolishly — wiser. “Because they helped their people? Kings and queens aren’t supposed to help anyone, are they?”
Mama sighed and took up the basket, turning back toward home. “Perhaps,” she said, “But that is not part of the story.”
“Is that why the city died?” I asked for the last time, pressing the cloth to Mama’s too-hot face. “Because their healers could not save them? Healers are supposed to—”
Mama laughed, a sweet soft thing, and patted my cheek. “Maybe,” she said, “But that is not part of the story. All things die; me and you, this house and this town, all the lions that snarl and all the trees that grow. Your friend the wall will die too, and go back to dust. What do we care why it happens? The story is our life.” She took my hand, a grip so strong for someone so weak. “Do not concern yourself with why things die, my beautiful boy. Think only of why things live. Why you live, and what you will do with your living.”
- Being the Chronicle of Captain Oluwande “Boatless” Boodhari, Pirate and Prince, 1762
It was miraculous, really, that the silk had even stayed afloat. One would think that the piece of fabric would have sunk to the ocean’s floor by now (Stede surely knew how heavy wet silk could be after a few months on The Revenge), but it hadn’t. Stede let the damp piece of red silk brush over his cheek, the same way he saw Ed do it whenever he needed comfort. He let out a shaky breath.
Ed.
He knew he had to find him, had to apologize, had to reconcile. If Ed would take him, of course. Not that he deserved that much. But Ed deserved at least that, an apology. Stede had made his mind up, he told his marooned crew. They were going back for Ed.
“Yeah…” Wee John drawled, “We don’t want to go back for ‘im.”
“What?” Stede asked. “Why not?!”
“Because he marooned us,” he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“And he stole Lucius!” Black Pete added angrily. “And Frenchie!”
“And Jim.” Oluwande muttered.
Well, he couldn’t blame them for that, could he? No, they had every right to be angry at Ed, at him. He should have been a better captain, a better friend, a better lover. He was already bad at being a husband and a father. It seems that Stede Bonnet couldn’t get anything right. Except for this. He had to get this right, he had to.
Excerpt from Chapter 1 of my fic, “These Waves Will Pull Me Under”. Read it here!
Day followed night as it always does. Above the gently lapping waves of the high seas, curtains of the darkest midnight blue shifted almost imperceptibly to velvety purple, then brightened to a glorious pink betokening, ostensibly, impending delight. Slowly at first, then all at once, the sun rose above the horizon.
“Augh!” Edward Teach lifted his head from where it lay pillowed, quite comfortably, on Stede Bonnet’s perfect thighs. “Fuck off, sun!” he bellowed.
An offending ray of light had pierced the porthole of the cabin, stabbing its unwelcome way into the cloistered bedstead of the captain of the Revenge, where two pirates – one a gentleman, one a rogue – slept entwined.
Stede stirred. Without opening his eyes, he lifted a hand to pet soothingly at Ed’s hair.
“Hush,” he said. “It’s early. We’ve at least an hour, still. Draw the bedcurtains and come back to me.”
Ed grumbled, but he was helpless to deny Stede’s smallest request, so he rose and secured the curtain across the porthole, then pulled the bedcurtains snugly around the bed, careful to leave no chinks to let in the offending light.
“There,” Stede said, drawing Ed under the covers, tight against his side. “We’ll pretend it’s still nighttime. Nighttime’s my favourite.”
“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”
“You know why.” Stede’s eyes were still closed, but he flushed up prettily.
“Maybe I do. Maybe I don’t, though. Maybe you should show me.”
“Mmmm. Maybe I should.”
There was silence in the cabin for several long moments. Silence broken only by the sound of lips on skin, stuttering breaths, small gasps.
“No good,” Ed said, pulling away suddenly. “It’s no good. Not enough time. There’s never enough nighttime for all the things I want to do with you.”
“Busy old fool, unruly sun, Why dost thou thus, Through windows, and through curtains call on us?”
Ed had learned that Stede often conversed through the medium of recited verse, but he was pretty sure he hadn’t heard this one before.
“Must to thy motions lovers’ seasons run? Saucy pedantic wretch, go chide Late school boys and sour prentices, Go tell court huntsmen that the king will ride, Call country ants to harvest offices, Love, all alike, no season knows nor clime, Nor hours, days, months, which are the rags of time.”
Ed looked at him, unimpressed. “What’s that when it’s at home?”
Stede pondered. “Fuck off, sun.”
“That’s what I’m saying.”
“Darling. So you are. And considerably more concisely, too, well done.” He kissed him.
“Whatsit called then?”
“’The Sun Rising,’ I think. We’re not the first lovers to protest it.”
Ed’s eyes turned impossibly soft at the word “lovers.” Stede couldn’t bear it. He kissed him again.
As was so often their way, they lost themselves to each others’ lips, soft and wet and increasingly desperate. Hands wandered, tracing paths of love that quenched arid skin.
“I’ll show you something rising,” Ed murmured into Stede’s mouth. “Got it right here for you, mate.”
Stede shivered. There was no more talking after that.
