Chapter Text
Ed’s nerves get the best of him, and he ends up at The Alley way too early. He hits his vape in his car until he gets nic sick, and checks his hair in his front-facing camera so many times he loses count. Finally, Stede texts him that he’s just parked. He takes a deep, shuddery breath and gets out of the car. When he rounds the side of the building, he spots Stede walking up to the doors.
He looks delectable, in a silky looking polo shirt and gray jeans that could be mistaken for body paint, Jesus christ. His librarian slacks do him no justice.
But he’s smiling that smile that’s been trapped in Ed’s head since day one, and he’s waving like a goofball as he approaches.
“Hello!”
God, Ed’s fucking obsessed.
“You look nice,” he says, hoping to god his beard is hiding how heated his face is.
“Oh, well… look at you! Your tattoos!”
And Ed realizes then that Stede’s never seen them. He passed on the leather jacket today, no need for it to bowl.
“Are they— I mean, is it okay?”
He sorta feels like shriveling up into himself, the way Stede’s eyes roam over all the ink in his arms. But then Stede’s meeting his gaze and his precious dimple is showing, and his hand reaches out to briefly touch his inked-up arm.
“They’re wonderful, truly. A work of art.”
And Ed has to duck his head to hide the immediate and love-struck grin that spreads across his face.
“Naww, thanks. You ready to bowl?”
“Am I ever!”
And dammit, no doors to open, as they’re automatic, but Ed guides him through them still with a hand on the small of his back and hopes to god that it’s okay. He thinks it might be, because Stede leans into it as they walk up to the counter and get greeted by someone who’s not Jeremy.
“I’ve got a reservation for seven on lane thirty-two?”
“Okay great! Let me check you in here. Edward?”
“That’s me. Edward Teach, born on a beach.”
“Were you really?” Stede asks, wondrous, as Ashley taps at the keyboard.
Ed just winks and puts his finger to his lips, and also does not mentally fist pump when Stede giggles and nudges his arm.
“And you paid over the phone already, right?”
“I did, yep.”
Ed feels Stede’s demeanor shift, can see out of his periphery that Stede turns to him fully.
“And what size shoes can I get for you?”
The rest of the interaction is a bit of a blur, and as they’re walking toward the VIP lanes with their bowling shoes in hand, he feels Stede wind their arms together and gently squeeze his bicep.
“Did you really call?”
Ed shrugs.
“Had to, to reserve a lane.”
“You could’ve asked me to do it, you know?”
“Didn’t want to. Wanted to take care of it all. For you.”
And then they’re at their lane, tucked into the dim corner of the alley, and Ed has no choice but to face Stede even though he’s nervous to see what he’ll find.
Silly, though, because what he finds is Stede’s eyes shining and squinted up from his smile. And his freckled face coming at him lightning fast, before he can react, to press a kiss to his cheekbone.
His lips are like a warm, silky pillow, and the spot he kisses burns on Ed’s face, even hotter than the flush in his cheeks. His stomach swoops and fills with all kinds of fluttery creatures. His eyes dart around frantically, afraid to land on Stede, afraid to show just how much a tiny little cheek kiss has flustered him.
“That was quite romantic of you, you know.”
Ed huffs and starts and stops a sentence a few times before he gets his bearings.
“Thanks.”
Thanks??? That’s all??? Christ on crutches, Ed, get it together.
“No, thank you. Now, what silly name have you picked out for the score screen?”
Stede came prepared with a boatload of silly names, apparently, because he has enough for the both of them to cycle through. Fucking lunatic. The screen reads “Blackbeard” and “Gentleman Pirate,” because Stede loves to stick to a theme. They order nachos to share and a beer each and get to bowling while they wait to be served.
Or, something resembling bowling, in Stede’s case. He’s horrible at it. Just god awful. His first two frames in a row are gutter balls. But god, if he isn’t a fucking delight, when he just barely knocks a single pin down on his third frame and jumps up with his hands in the air like he’s just won an Olympic gold medal.
Ed certainly didn’t expect to impress as much as he does. He was always good at bowling but he doesn’t do it often. It’s apparently like riding a bike for him, though, because he’s picking up spares consistently by the end of their first game.
And Stede cheers him on with a toothy smile and tells him he’s wonderful and it’s knocking all the wind out of him.
They pause to eat, thighs pressed together. It’s almost disgusting how nervous it makes him, like he’s back in high school again, on the first date of his life. A feather could knock him out, because he’s so on edge hoping everything goes perfectly.
But also, Stede’s got some sort of soothing effect, like an herbal balm. The way his eyes light up, the way his foot taps Ed’s under the table, the way his arm brushes against his own, it’s all so comfortable . Like coming home to a heating blanket and soup after a long, cold day.
Again, Ed adds another column in the “why I need to ask Stede to marry me” list when Stede goes for the silverware because ‘finger foods should not be synonymous with bowling.’
(The list was big enough after their first meeting, but it’s getting alarmingly long now considering this is only their first date.)
They laugh at each other as they struggle to get the nachos on their forks, and Ed feels just absolutely warm and fuzzy at how simple this seems, how naturally they go together. Especially when Stede leans in close to pick a bit of sour cream from his beard, like it’s second-nature to reach out and touch him. It’s so light and brief, but it shoots a static shock right through to his core. So much so that he has to take a gulp of his pint and start a new game before he just kisses him about it here in front of everyone, before he can tear himself up inside wondering if Stede would be okay with that.
They bowl a few more rounds, have another beer, and Stede gets a little better as he loosens up and takes a few of Ed’s pointers. His smile is blinding, even compared to all the flashing LED lights across the bowling lanes. When Stede finally bowls a strike, Ed cheers and jumps to his feet to congratulate him with a bone-crushing hug. He tries very hard not to dwell on how cold he feels when they part.
They only stop bowling because they’re both complaining about their joints, Stede’s hands and Ed’s knee. Ed, in a royally bold act of bravery, grabs Stede’s hands to caress the valleys between his knuckles. Stede looks at him like he’s just cured him of all his ailments. It’s funny, because Ed feels the same exact way about him, and wonders if Stede can tell.
There’s a pool table in the VIP section that’s unoccupied, and Ed suggests they play a round. At this point, he’s just trying to squeeze every last second out of this date. Knowing now how good it feels, he’s not sure he can bear many more moments away from Stede without caving in on himself.
And to his credit, he doesn’t even do the cheesy thing and press against Stede’s back to coach him when he says he’s never really played pool. He just tells him to watch and gives him tips, and then promptly beats the pants off of him. Stede’s a good sport, though. Ed thinks the playful shoves might just be an excuse to touch him. He hopes so, anyway. He hopes Stede feels the same buzzing under his skin about it when they touch for even a moment.
They end up getting kicked out, because apparently you’re not allowed to stay in the VIP section past your reserved lane time. Stede is kind of a bitch about it, in such a backhanded, middle-aged librarian way, and it’s kind of extremely attractive.
There’s a wicked glint in his eye as they follow the manager through the VIP doors. Ed would like to see it again, in a few different contexts that absolutely make his face heat at the thought.
They spill out into the parking lot laughing, and Ed doesn’t mean to do it, but he threads his fingers through Stede’s. It’s like an instinct, his hand just finds it’s way there without a second thought. He tries to tamp down his smile when Stede’s fingers squeeze tighter and his breath comes out in a huff.
“Let me walk you to your car,” he says, as smooth as he can muster with the way he can feel his heartbeat everywhere , even in his eyeballs.
He follows Stede to an honest to god minivan, hands still locked together.
Stede fiddles with his keys.
“This is me.”
They stop to just look at each other for a moment, hands still grasping tight.
“I hope you had a good time.”
“I had the best time, Ed. Truly.”
“Enough to do it again?”
Stede nods as his lips part and close and then part again.
“I’d really enjoy that.”
And then Stede’s stepping a little closer but he’s letting go of Ed’s hand. There’s a flash of panic Ed feels deep in his bones before he feels Stede’s warm, smooth palm travel up his arm.
“I think I’d like to kiss you now, if that’s alright?”
Ed’s knees wobble, and not because of the arthritis.
“Please do.”
And he does kiss him. Kisses the pants right off of him, knocks his damn socks off as he presses into Ed with his whole body, and cradles his neck in his hands. Ed briefly forgets what a kiss even is and how you’re supposed to do it.
His lips are satiny, and they taste like beer and bubblegum, and his waist is so solid where Ed grabs hold of it for dear life with both hands.
It’s not chaste, but it’s not filthy, because they part their lips but neither of them breach. They just move together in a slow, wavy rhythm that makes Ed feel like he just got off of a spinning carnival ride.
They don’t even really part when the kiss is broken. Ed leans his forehead on Stede’s temple and shivers when Stede’s hands fall from his neck to trickle down his back. Ed can feel how fast Stede’s chest rises and falls, snug up against his own. Ed’s thumbs swirl restless circles on Stede’s hips, and he’s not sure if he’s trying to soothe Stede or himself.
It’s silent, save for the sound of the highway and the faint Y2K pop coming from The Alley’s outdoor speakers. Still, Ed can hear and feel Stede’s breath even out. It’s… intimate, shockingly so, considering they’re in a bowling alley parking lot. But it feels like it’s only them, like the only thing that matters is the sweet smell of Stede’s hair and his big, warm palm between Ed’s shoulder blades and the feeling of his breath on Ed’s cheek.
Ed never wants to leave this moment, but he kind of wants to see Stede’s face and his precious laugh lines and his gorgeous smile. When they do finally part, Stede’s eyes are glassy and his cheeks are bright pink under the parking lot lamps and Ed feels like the luckiest man on the planet to see it up this close.
“Well. I’d certainly like to do this again soon.”
“Mmhm, yeah, very soon,” Ed nods, steps back, and lets his hands fall from Stede’s waist.
“You’ll call me?”
Ed watches Stede’s lips pull up into a smirk. Cheeky fucking bastard. He’s gonna put a ring on his left hand if it kills him.
“Yeah, I’ll call you.”