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“I was thinking…”
“That is always your problem,” the pirate co-captain warns.
Stede clears his throat and continues. “I was thinking,” he begins again as if Ed hasn’t spoken. “That perhaps you and I should play a game.”
Ed perks up at that, leaning over the back of the velvet sofa to watch where Stede is lounging in the window, gazing out at the sea. Looking all poncy and posh in velvet and lace, one of those ridiculous to have at sea china cups with saucer carefully balanced on his fingertips.
“A game. What kind are you thinking? Mumbly peg? Dice? I’m great with cards.”
“No, Ed. Not one of your games. Not like that. A game of my design. What do you think of that?”
Already suspicion darkens his already swarthy countenance, head cocking to one side as Teach peers at the other man with what he hopes passes for curiosity. Instead it is very much a look of suspicion… and interest. Not so much for the game but that he can’t help wanting to understand more what it is that went on in Stede Bonnet’s head. The thoughts the man has are unlike anything Ed has ever known and he wants to understand more.
“I think that if you are planning on me skipping along like a schoolgirl with a hoop and stick then you might have the wrong man. Lucius might be willing to play.”
Stede waves his hand, the lace at his wrist swaying like a flag in the wind. For a moment Ed is mesmerized with the motion, considering knotting his fingers in the fabric, of tangling it around his calloused fingers and tugging until Stede bent to his will.
He could imagine how it would feel, starched and yet soft against his fingers. Almost he could hear the delicate material give, a small tear someone would have to fit with thread and tatting later. If Ed didn’t continue to tear. Perhaps he’d take an entire piece off and add it to the silk tucked away in his pocket.
“Ed, are you listening to me?”
“What? Of course.” Not. Of course not, he hadn’t been listening. He’d been thinking about torn lace and the scandalized look Stede would bear because of it.
“Then what do you think of the game?”
“Well, I… I mean, it’s intriguing and… why don’t we…”
He huffs out a sharp sound, rolling his eyes. Admitting the truth just didn’t sit right with him. Especially not with that smug look on Stede’s face making it clear he knew the truth already and is just trying to make Ed say it aloud.
“Fine, I wasn’t listening. What game did you have in mind because, truthfully, I’m bored with this one already.”
He looks smug, a cat that ate the canary smile as he waits for Stede to fluster and bluster over his attitude and yet, instead, the gentleman pirate smiles back. In fact, Ed is pretty sure it’s a smile that mirrors his own.
Now that was intriguing indeed.
“What I said was that I want to tie you up.”
“Oh, you think that’s a fun game. Tying me… what?!”
It takes a moment for Bonnet’s words to catch up with him but when they do the color that Ed’s face turns is positively delightful. A bit purplish against a red flush that goes to the tips of his ears.
He clambers over the back of the settee, moving to stand before Stede with a flushed face and his true interest in those words carefully hidden. Of course he’s not interested. He’s just confused that Stede Bonnet of all people would suggest such a thing.
“What do you mean tie me up? What kind of game is that? How is that fun?”
At first Stede doesn’t answer him. Instead he rises with such a practiced air Ed wants to retch. He so often has the upper hand that realizing the other man has taken it is sitting poorly deep in his gut. Carefully Stede moves past Ed, setting his cup and saucer aside without a word. Not until he turns back to him, leaning back against the sideboard casually, both hands press against the cool wood to help him keep his composure himself.
“It’s fun because it begins with you stripping down to nothing and then leads to me using some of my silk straps and clothes and perhaps some of the satin curtain ropes and binding you up in some pattern that I find pleasing and attractive.”
“You… you want to what?”
“Have you not been listening again?”
“I was listening but… You want to tie me up? Naked?”
Stede turns to the sideboard again, rummaging about in one drawer and then another. When he turns to face Ed once more he’s holding the sash to some robe or another in his hands, one end of the rich scarlet silk twisted about his palm and the other slowly dragging through his closed fist.
“I do. All you have to do is let me do it, Ed. Don’t fight me. Don’t struggle. Just let me bind you as feels right. Just between you and me.”
He starts out in bright tones, playful even, but as he gets to the word fight, as he goes on, his tones drop. Huskier, darker, the truth of this game coming out in that tone as he steps closer to the other man, holding out his hand for Ed’s.
“All you have to do is say yes and I’ll lock the door and we’ll see what you think of my game.”
Ed glances at the door and then at Stede. His gaze drops to the palm of his hand where the supple material in shades of red and gold rested. Slowly he lifts his hand and places it in Stede’s grip.
“The door is already locked.”
A slow smile curves Stede’s lips. For a moment he wondered just what Ed had been thinking about that he’d locked the door, but that is a question for later. Later when the pirate would be more likely to tell the truth than use words and gestures and anger and mania to try and hide what was truly going on behind those wild eyes.
“Then start stripping for me. As far as you’re comfortable to go.” Just like everything else Stede has said to Ed, the words are carefully chosen and he’s rewarded quickly for his efforts.
Ed bares teeth at the other man. For most it would seem threatening and dangerous, more shark than greeting. It’s a smile Stede finds himself wanting to see more often, knowing he will seek it out another time as well. “Is that a challenge then?” Ed snorts, scoffing with a toss of his head. “If so, challenge accepted.”
“Would I issue you a challenge? You? Blackbeard?”
His tone is soft and sly, playing a dangerous game but one that Stede’s truly thinks he can win. One about not playing a game, just going along enough to ensure that Ed thinks he’s being challenged and then let him play himself.
“Oh yes you would. You and your damn gentleman-ly ways,” Ed says, mimicking picking up a teacup from a saucer and then tossing away the imaginary dishes before he starts stripping away his layers.
First the robe he’s commandeered for himself, tossing the frivolous thing over the back of the sofa before tugging the shirt beneath it up and over his head. Letting it fall to the floor as dark, sparkling eyes watch Stede curiously as the other captain moves about the room, digging in one drawer and another before moving to that secret compartment of his.
“What’s in there?”
He wouldn’t be surprised to find out that it’s got another secret compartment where the other man stores his silky ropes alongside more robes with annoying birds and plants that are likely poisonous.
There’s no answer though, just Stede humming softly to himself as he gathers up what he needs. Not even looking up as he comes back into the room, dropping an assortment of ropes, ties, and sashes onto the top of the dresser. One slithers away from the rest and falls to the floor.
Stede stoops to pick it up, only then lifting his gaze.
His gaze brushing over strong calves and up along muscular thighs. Along the side of one knee he can see the impressions from the wraps Ed uses on his knee, a set of small scars crossing the area as if he had caught it between boards or even in a trap.
Stede’s fingers close around the sash, but he doesn’t move as his gaze continues upward. He barely registers the amount of material and cloth that litters the floor, along with a lot more weaponry and metal than he might have thought the man carried on a casual afternoon in their cabin. He’s too caught up in the narrow line of Ed’s hips, paler than the rest of his skin, seeing less sun than most of him. A thatch of dark hair between his thighs and the proof that stripping for Stede was certainly more than a challenge for him.
Or maybe just that the infamous Blackbeard was excited by playing games as much as the gentleman pirate was.
“Enjoying what you’re seeing, Captain?”
It’s Ed’s most Blackbeard-y voice, all salt air and hard waves in the taunting that should have flustered Stede. Not today though. Today he is going to keep the upper hand. Even if the sound of his voice has gone straight through Stede and left walking a bit more precarious than the waves had ever done.
“Very much show. You cut quite the handsome figure in and out of your attire,” Bonnet allows.
He gives the compliment honestly though he notes the way it makes Ed stand taller, shoulders back a bit more. He so often seems to walk from the hips, all swagger and sexy personified as if that would distract the average pirate, and not so average co-captain, but now his posture is less posturing and all about pride.
“I can’t wait to see how handsome you are when I’m done with you.”
There’s a cutting edge to Stede’s voice, stepping closer until the loose folds of his robe brush against Ed’s bare leg.
“Do me a favor,” he murmurs, his eyes meeting Ed’s gaze, barely blinking in his desire to see the pirate’s reaction to his next words. “Kneel for me.”
It was not a question, nor a request.
Ed’s dark eyes go wide, his skin flushing almost instantly. He waivers, swaying a bit, and Stede wonders if he nearly does it out of desire without questioning. Perhaps but then the ego and pride of a pirate legend gets in the way before he can go down.
“You have got to be kidding.”
“So you don’t want to play with me?”
“I didn’t say that but you’re kidding, right?”
“Kneel.”
Silence stretches wide in the small confines of the cabin as dark, kohl rimmed eyes meet paler, cornflower blue for the longest time. Stede can’t bring himself to draw a breath. He’s been thinking about this for weeks, considering the pros and cons of approaching Ed about it. He knows he is taking a chance that could break the tenuous relationship that he is certain is growing between them but to give them both what he is certain they need, he has to try.
“Or we can not play this game. I’ll understand if you’re not… up for it.”
The sound of Ed’s knees thumping against the wood of the floor is enough to make Stede wince.
“Good. I’m glad you want to play,” he says softly, walking a slow circle around Ed. “First thing first, we’re going to get your hair out of the way so I don’t get it caught up in any knots.”
He moves away, returning with a stool that he draws up close behind Ed. Settling on it, his knees fall open, bracketing the sides of the other’s body as he leans in to slowly begin working his fingers through the wild tousled mess of Ed’s hair.
“This is your game?”
“This is me preparing you for the game,” he says, knowing just what he’s doing as he runs his nails lightly over Ed’s scalp and delicately works the knots out of his hair. “I rather like your hair and I would hate to see it harmed in the process of playing.”
He also knows he needs to do something to help the pirate relax, already keyed up and likely his mind racing with a million thoughts about what Stede is going to do, how much he’ll like this game or not, and all those things that were constantly running through Ed’s head.
Stede knew because he would often just suddenly start talking about oddities and weirdness as if they’d been having the conversation for hours. It didn’t take long to realize that many of these talks were going on in his own head before he continued them out loud.
So he takes his time, carefully breaking up knots in the wild curls, humming softly as he works out all the tangles and twists until the salt and pepper hangs in half curls along the strong breadth of Ed’s back.
He can’t help but notice the way he draws a sharp breath when Stede tugs at his hair to loosen one particular rough knot. Focusing, he takes in how the pirate shifts slightly to put tension on the way Stede pulls at his hair. It’s a curiosity and one that he isn’t at all surprised at. Ed has shown himself to be quite the masochist in the time Bonnet has known him, and yet this is a much gentler kind of pain that he knows he can mostly certainly work with.
So even after the knots are loosened, he doesn’t stop. Not right away. Slowly pulling at one curl until it’s drawn straight and then pulling at his scalp before releasing it for it to snap back. Pushing his fingers through Ed’s hair and twisting his fingers before drawing them back as he hears soft hitches in the pirate’s breathing.
He keeps pulling at the strands and scritching his fingers along Ed’s scalp until the tension in his neck and the very muscular knots between his shoulders loosen and his body relaxes visibly before him. Only then does Stede focus to plait the strands, tying them up neatly before curling them in a bun atop his head.
“There now. Much safer for your hair,” he says, stroking his fingers delicately over Ed’s shoulder.
There’s something amazingly profound in that moment. Blackbeard kneeling before him, naked and waiting, trusting in Stede’s touch and, for once when he was awake, falling silent but for the soft sounds that came as his body relaxed.
“That feels good,” he murmurs, even his voice soft and honeyed as he barely turns his head to look over his shoulder at the other man. “My hair, that is. For safety.”
Smiling, Stede said nothing, rising to return the stool to where he’d gotten it from. Without it there, it left Ed kneeling in the middle of the clearest space in the cabin. And for a moment, as he turned to return, Stede was left breathless.
Head bowed and hands resting lightly on his thighs, there was a beautiful piety to the pose of the pirate. He likely would deny it but there was something worshipful about his pose, something that left Stede wishing he had Lucius’ talent with paper and graphite to capture the image before him.
Yet he knew he would never ask his scribe to do so for him. There was nothing in him that wanted anyone to ever see Ed like this. This moment was for him and him alone.
“Have I ever told you how beautiful you look?”
Stede asks it lightly, knowing that the singular compliment might set things off and ruin the moment.
Ed laughs though, a rich, throaty sound as he looks to Bonnet with eyes so dark and liquid seeming that Stede is certain that in all his time as a gentleman pirate, that is how he’s going to drown. In the richness of those eyes.
“Wild. Unkept. Ungodly. I think you once said I reminded you of a child who dressed themselves but never beautiful.” He straightens then, chin lifting as a sharp gleam lights up his eyes. “I suppose if I’m letting you go and bind me like a Christmas goose, I can put up with beautiful.”
And like that, in a way, he ruins it in Bonnet’s mind. Yet that is part of the pirate’s charm.
“Keep talking about it like that and I’ll start with gagging you first,” he notes, tones playful and teasing, though the image in his mind with Ed kneeling like that is nothing to do with a silken handkerchief across his mouth.
It’s definitely not the image in his head as he steps closer to the other man, coming to stand before him. Tenderly he looks down on him, especially as Ed’s chin lifts and those dark eyes focus on Stede.
“My understanding is that it’s customary to find out if there’s anything you don’t want me to do? Anything you don’t like?”
It’s a huge admission Stede realizes even after he asks. It shows he’s been looking into such things, trying to ask others about details to things he’s never experienced himself but now, since Ed had become part of the crew of the Revenge, he wants to know about.
“You think there’s something you can do I don’t like? You?”
He levels Stede with his best Blackbeard look… even as he kneels there naked in front of a fully clothed man who had just braided his hair. Right.
That fact seems to register with him, lips pursing as he considers Stede for a long moment. The silence stretches out between them but Stede doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t so much as fidget. He just waits.
“If this is about humiliating me, I’m not standing for it.”
His chin lowers slightly as he says it but he doesn’t look away. Almost daring Stede to challenge him on that. Instead he reaches out, stroking the back of his knuckles along Ed’s temple, delicate and light.
“Nothing about this game is about hurting you,” he says, his smile benevolent and kind as a length of silken sash uncoils from his hand, hitting against Ed’s chest and rolling down his body. “Unless, of course, you want it to.”
It’s an answer that leaves Ed speechless, even as his jaw works as if he’s considering words but none of them come out. Stede takes that as his cue, stepping around behind the other pirate and sinking down to one knee.
There’s no words as he draws Ed’s arms behind his back. He doesn’t want to tell him what to do but instead he wants to show him. His touch soft as he folds each arm in place, wrists resting one atop the other. Not yet binding them as he runs his hands along the well muscled and inked bicep of one arm, testing for tension, seeing how it feels and how the other man reacts. He’s tested the poses on himself, learning what’s comfortable and what isn’t in a desire to only give Ed comfort and sensuality in this moment.
It’s certainly sexy with him naked and all, but that isn’t the point as Stede begins to bind his wrists with the sash. He might not be the best of pirates, and he certainly learned more about what ships don’t need than the knowledge that a true man of the sea might need but he knew a thing about knots.
Not from needing to secure sails and moor boats but because so many things in his life require just the right tying of some kind of string or cord or such. Book bindings and cravats and even sashes. Wouldn’t do to have one’s lounging room fall open at the wrong time, would it? He might not know the right knot to keep the mainsail from falling but he certainly knew just how to secure someone with a pretty bow and that did everything to highlight their form.
And oh did Ed Teach have a form to be highlighted.
Broad shoulders that Stede trails his fingers over, watching the ripple of muscle as a shiver runs through the kneeling pirate. Binding the wrists to one another, he affixes a new sash to the original before leaning in so that his clothed back brushes against Ed’s back. He doesn’t need to be that close, but that’s part of the game. Just the part that Ed isn’t really aware of.
Sliding his hand along Ed’s chest, trailing the silk over his skin as he brings it back around and over his arm. All the while his mouth is just nearly brushing the tight curled hairs at the base of Ed’s skull, his breath caressing the delicate skin of the back of his neck so often protected by the fall of salt and pepper hair.
Carefully he secures that first rope, snug but not tight, properly arranged for what he has planned, and so that Ed can’t easily slip from them.
He rises from where he knelt to move to the armoire where he gathers up all of his supplies and brings them to rest on the floor beside the pirate.
Ed’s head is slightly bowed, his gaze downcast. He doesn’t shift, even as Ed moves away, nor does he raise his gaze when the other pirate, such as he is, returns.
It’s almost remarkable. An act of actual magic. Edward Teach, the pirate Blackbeard, quiet and actually submissive as if not only accepting the ties that bind him but reveling in their placement and Stede’s actions. The gentleman pirate had hoped, but he hadn’t truly thought it might work like this.
Not just giving himself the beauty of the other man in this state, but offering him a chance to just exist in the moment. To not have to be the captain or the leader or the killer who didn’t “technically” kill. He didn’t have to be Blackbeard, or answer to Izzy’s demands and the crew’s hero worship. In that moment he is nothing but a man giving himself over to someone he trusts.
It is perhaps the most truly magical moment of Stede Bonnet’s life.
“My understanding is that, when I’m done, it will be almost like a corset,” he says, picking up another sash to knot about the one that crosses Ed’s chest, just at the center, forming the second part of the corset.
“Like ladies wear beneath their gowns?”
“Like a garment meant for control and restriction. One to which I will hold the literal strings that bind you.”
“Planning to murder me by too tight corset? Is that your game?”
“Ed Teach,” Stede began in those oh so telling and sometimes pompous tones. Despite the images it put in his mind, his hands are steady as he begins weaving the sashes and cords about Ed’s body. “If my goal was to kill you, I would use a much better way.”
“Like having someone else do it?” Laughter tinged his tones, not even hardly shifting for a breath as Stede worked.
“Well… yes. Likely so.”
He’s killed before, and if he has his way, he absolutely, one hundred and ten percent would never, ever, ever do it again. Ever. He definitely doesn’t want to think about those times now, not when he has Ed naked before him, and as he can’t help but notice, certainly engaged in what Stede is doing.
Slowly he drags his hand along Ed’s stomach before slowly circling around behind him, pressing in close as he reaches around him. His hands stray low on his stomach but carefully avoid touching him more than seems necessary. Certainly in no way to obscure or touch the hard rise of Ed’s cock. He suspects if he even so much as brushed his knuckles against the thickness of it that the game would be over. He’s just not sure which of them would end things then and there.
At least end how the game is going at this time.
“This is not about killing you. It’s about giving you a chance to slow down.”
“I slow down all the time,” he mutters, nearly holding his breath as the ropes grow tighter against his ribs.
“The state of being passed out doesn’t count as slowing down.”
“Says you.”
“I do say, and I’m the one in charge right now, so it doesn’t count.”
Stede’s hands hesitate in how they’re working the sashes into the tight weave as he says the words that he hadn’t thought about saying. There's a chance that Ed could end the game here and now. If the mood took him, there’s little Stede could do.
So he holds his breath, waiting for a moment until he hears a soft, rumbling sound. Laughter. Laughter from Ed. It might not sound like more than distant thunder but he knows that sound, and he knows it’s truly an expression of amusement.
“For now you are, and so you say. Just remember Stede. Eventually the tides will turn.”
Again Stede’s hands still. He leans in close so that the soft fabric of his robe brushes against Ed’s back. This time he doesn’t hesitate as his breath stirs those tight, tiny curls. Letting his lips brush the curve of Ed’s ear, moving against the delicate skin as he speaks, his voice barely more than a soft whisper. “I truly hope so, Mr Teach. I hope you mean that.”
Loving the way Ed shivers against him, eyes closing as his head falls back until it’s resting against Stede’s shoulder.
“I take it back,” Ed mutters, eyes opening and staring up at the ceiling, unseeing. Everything in that moment is about feeling. Steady hands on his skin, cool silk warming against his skin, the burning in his chest that he knows comes from Stede and not what he’s doing. “You’re a right rotten pirate and good at it. A horrible manipulative bastard and a right pirate.”
This time when Stede’s lips brush Ed’s ear it’s in a definite kiss.
“Ed Teach, I think that is the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
Those words brought about a culmination for Stede that he hadn’t thought he was coming to, or a completion that he needed. Proof of Ed’s desire for him. Witnessing the trust the other pirate had for him. And now this. Pride earned. The three together leaving Stede feeling swelled up and warm, the entire room gilded by a light that had nothing to do with the sun and everything to do with emotions that he knows he will never recover from.
More than that, he never wants to recover. He wants to hold onto this moment for forever and a day.
“But don’t think that means I’m going to be easy on you.”
“I’d be angry if you were.”
They’re spoken softly but no truer words have ever been spoken by the pirate as he sinks into the sensation, poised and yet relaxed.
“Get with it, Bonnet. Show me your worst.”
“Oh I will. I promise I will, Teach.”
His worst, as he worked, was perhaps crueler than Ed had thought Stede could be and everything he might have wished for. Slow touches that had nothing to do with guided cords and everything to do with learning the line of Ed’s waist, the curve where the small of his back flowed down to the curve of his ass, and how strong the muscles of the pirate’s thighs were.
Stede didn’t merely tie ropes, he explored every inch of the other man, except that which Ed ached for above all others.
As he worked, the sashes grew tight about Ed’s form, and as they did, Stede began to indulge himself more. Soft kisses along the curve of one shoulder. Nuzzling at the back of his neck where soft, curling tendrils fell loose and tickled at his face.
Brightly colored silk began to form a shirt of sorts around the pirate’s torso. Garish orange against scarlet, royal purple against rich emerald, sapphire and a shimmering shade of teal that he’d ordered from the Orient. The colors were a cacophony and yet, against the swarthy tones of Ed’s skin, it was like jewels and gold, magical and regal.
They ran from just above his hips and encircled his body up along his ribs, his arms bound separately for the next part of his desires. Desires he couldn’t help thinking about as he runs his hands over the sashes, along Ed’s stomach, and up and over his ribs to lay his hand over Blackbeard’s heart.
“Now comes the best part,” he murmurs, his chest pressed to Ed’s back and his mouth running along his neck. A small kiss, a kittenish lap of his tongue, and then teasing his teeth along weathered skin.
“There’s a better part?” Ed’s voice is soft, dreamy like, his entire body arched back to press against Stede’s.
“Oh, this is only the beginning,” he promises, shifting back. Ed’s body sways, aching to follow the other man.
“Get on with it then. I’m curious about this game of yours.”
“As you wish,” Stede says, and there’s definite amusement in his tones. That alone makes Ed frown, suddenly wondering what he’s perhaps done wrong.
Stede’s nails lightly scratch at his back, pushing past some of the silk to twist his fingers about it. A moment later something round and solid presses against Ed’s back.
He barely registers what it is, that it’s Bonnet’s knee when suddenly he pulls. Sharply but steady, drawing on the sashes.
Ed’s entire world narrows as the cords contract about his body. Slithering along heated skin as Stede continues to pull, his fingers playing along the lines like a piano as he starts at the small of his back and works his way up the other man’s form. Stronger than he seems then, working them to draw in his waist, to restrict his breathing. Binding him and Stede is the man that controls it all.
At that moment, Stede Bonnet controls Blackbeard completely, and the wild pirate loves it.
Years of practice means Stede knows just how to “walk” his fingers along the twisted scarves and narrow sashes so that each row pulls tighter in succession until they are drawing in against his skin, narrowing the lines of his form with the force of the pulls.
Ed makes a low, rumbling sound. A exhalation, the gruffness of it sending a shiver up Stede’s spine.
“Not too tight then?”
“Uh-uh.” It’s all he manages, soft and breathy.
“A bit more, maybe?”
“Go for it.”
It’s all the permission the gentleman pirate needs. Catching the trailing ends about his wrist, his fingers move back to the top and begin that slow, teasing descent down the length of Ed’s spine.
Yet this time, with each and every pull, he rewards him with a bit of affection. A small kiss to the back of his neck, a quick nip to one shoulder, dragging his nails along the between the sashes, catching over the hard line of his ribs. Even as he draws them tight, carefully where they lay that nothing is too much, that there’s no pain or issues drawing a breath.
“Stede…”
He pauses, holding the sashes taut but not releasing them nor securing them. “Yes, Ed?”
“Tell me this game ends with more than all this teasing and playing or I swear I’m going to scream.”
And that is exactly the point that he wants him at. Desperate. Needy. And, as a peek over his shoulder reveals, hard and the head glistening with the pearls of precome that have slid along the silken flesh of his cock.
“I promise there will be more,” he says, gathering up the silken cords and binding them into two easy to undo knots in the middle of his back. One from the top, and the other from the bottom. “And there we go. Perfect.”
Rising from where he had been for so long, body aching but in the most pleasant way. Because of why he ached.
Of course, his ache was not nearly as bad as Ed’s he realizes as he comes around him to look down upon him.
His shoulders are squared, his back straight and his knees rest wide apart. The way he poses, head down and the bare nape of his neck exposed, it’s so vulnerable and yet Stede knows there’s nothing in that pose that is about weakness. There is a strength showing that he can’t believe he is witness to. A beauty that he’s dreamt of but truly never thought he would ever see.
“This is the first moment I wished I was more the artist that Lucius is,” he murmurs softly, hints of awe in his tone. “If only I could capture this forever.
The peacefulness of the moment is ruined as Ed’s head snaps up, eyes wide and wild as he glances at the door and then back to Stede. “You’re not bringing him in here, are you?”
“Hey now,” he murmurs softly with all the tenderness and patience one might use with a wild animal. Dragging a stool closer, he seats himself before Ed, reaching out and stroking his cheek tenderly. “It’s just you and me and that is all this will ever be. Okay? Just us.”
Ed doesn’t look all that convinced, eyes narrowing though he can’t help but to lean into that touch, eyes partially closing in that moment. Soothed at least by touch if not words.
“So now where does this game of yours go? If not mocking me for the sport of others?”
A heavy sadness settles on Stede’s shoulders at that moment. Pain for the man that Ed is and all that had led him to be this way.
“You let me do this expecting me to hurt you?”
“Well you might have done good things too,” he points out, his eyes focusing just beneath Stede’s eyes and closer to his mouth.
“But you expected bad. Why would you let me do that?”
“Why not? Don’t think you would mutilate me or anything so why not let you?”
“Edward Teach.” Pain and shock lance through his words. He wanted attention so desperately that he was willing to risk being humiliated.
“Stede Bonnet. Though we already knew names. Now what?”
He stares at Ed for a long time. “Why did you let me do it? Not in general but why me? Why now? Why this?”
“Because you wanted to.”
“Edward.”
He huffs a sigh, rolling his eyes. “Because I wanted you to. There. Happy? I wanted you to touch me, to be near me. Whatever. Are we done now?”
“Oh we most certainly are not,” he says, shoulders straightening and his chin lifting slightly. “Originally I had planned this to be a chance to get you to answer some questions in exchange for certain favors. Touches if you will. But I think I’m changing the game.”
“Wasn’t much of a game to start with,” he mutters.
Stede, once more, goes on as if he hadn’t spoken. “Now the rules are this. Whatever you ask me to do, I’ll do. Except for two things. I won’t untie you until I’m ready… and they have to be nice things.”
“I don’t want to play.”
“Too late, we’re already playing. So….” he says, fixing Ed with a challenging stare. “What shall I do?”
“Take it asking you to bugger off isn’t a nice thing? Or, remove the off and add me?”
Oh but it was tempting but he suspects that is just giving into Ed’s need to be used.
“That benefits me more than you. Try again.”
“Going with bugger off again.”
Stede says nothing, sitting there perched on a stool and waiting.
“I’m done with this.”
And then.
“Untie me, Bonnet.”
Still the gentleman pirate waits.
“You’re horrible and I hate you.”
Not a word.
“Fine.”
“Fine what?”
“Fine, do something nice for me. I don’t care what.”
“That isn’t the game, Ed. The game is you have to ask for something. Something you want me to do. Something nice.”
“Read your stupid book.”
It’s not at all what Stede is expecting and he’s not sure he understands. “Pardon?”
“That book of silly little stories you read the crew. Read that.” He pauses before adding. “Read me that.”
Stede stares at Ed for a long time, silent. The pirate won’t meet his gaze but then, after a moment, Stede leans down and tenderly kisses his temple.
“I like that idea a lot,” he says, rising from the stool and getting the book of tales.
He comes back to settle on the stool, moving it slightly to the side of Ed’s form where he can touch him as he reads… and Ed is free to lean in against him as well.
“I think I know the perfect story,” he says, turning to a story that he’s never read to the crew. One about a young girl who found herself trapped with a beastly man, shaggy and unkempt, and how with time and love, they both changed one another for the better.