areunasty
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Summary
Ed is beautiful like this. Glowing with fever. Izzy reaches out to touch him without thinking, bidden by the same urge of acolytes the world over. His forehead is hot and damp under Izzy’s palm. Eyes rolling up to show their whites as he tries to peer at the point in which their skin meets. His feverish brow, his sick dew, Izzy’s dry and lingering hand.
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The truth is that everywhere Izzy has gone, he has gone willingly, dutifully, and with complete faith. From ship to ship and from sea to sea — to the first mate’s cabin, his mouth, his body, the roving clutch of those hands. His is a nature that takes its joy from function. In a past life maybe he was a peg in a hole. Or perhaps the crucial bolt to a thousand greater gears. Load-bearing beam, the sturdiest spoke in a wheel, a lady’s beloved caged bird. In this one he is Edward Teach’s right hand. They are all, in truth, one and the same.
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- Part 2 of nasties
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They’ve been through this more times than Izzy would like to count, and it always begins the same. Ed, morning wood and sweet-talk. His black hair tickling Izzy’s shoulders as he noses at his throat. Wandering hands, the smell of his sleep-warmed body.
Series
- Part 1 of nasties
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“You’re a sick little shit,” Ed tells him, a little awed. Izzy doesn’t react. Just blinks hard until the tears detach from his eyes and leave shining streaks on his cheeks. Ed swallows, and feels Izzy do the same against his fingertips.
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“What are you?” Hermann asks him, and the air in the tiny space becomes heavy.
Newt, ever-stubborn, even halfway to his knees, says, “You tell me, dude.”
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