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Stede usually finds that his grey days involve a characteristic lack of emotion. If there is an emotion present beyond a vague feeling of misery and pointlessness, it's not a grey day, just a particularly bad or boring one. And yet, despite the fact Stede's existed in a fog of unhappiness since he slowly and painfully exited the kind numbness of sleep this morning, the sound of Izzy shouting from outside Stede's room brings forth a confusing and intense mix of irritance, longing and exhaustion that shoots right through his gloom with enough energy that Stede can sit up: it dissapates after that, and Stede is left with only the sense that he needs Izzy to be yelling at him instead of the crew and that it's not even worth trying to lure Izzy in because the most Stede can think about right now is his longing for the sweet release of death.
"You've got half an hour to rewick the canons, now get on with it!"
"How about, and this is a truly shocking idea... I don't," Lucius' voice comes from outside Stede's door, "Captain Bonnet hasn't instructed me to, so what are you gonna do about it?"
Stede feels an odd surge of both pride and annoyance at listening to Lucius' bitching. The jobs do need doing, and it's starting to feel almost unfair to leave them all to Izzy (although Stede retains his conviction that Izzy deserves it, and it's not like he'd admit that he feels sorry for Izzy to anyone anyway), but it's nice to hear Lucius stand up for himself, especially when Izzy's being Izzy.
Stede certainly isn't prepared for what Izzy says next.
"How about we ask him then?" asks Izzy.
It goes silent, for a second, and then Lucius says brightly, "Sure! Go ahead."
Stede's suddenly very aware of how he must look, lying limply in his pyjamas in the middle of the afternoon with barely the energy to make any expression that isn't entirely fatigued. He doesn't want either of them to see him like this. He doesn't exactly have a choice, though, because Izzy, the fucking bastard, is pushing the door to Stede's cabin open and casually letting himself inside, only freezing once he sees Stede's state.
Lucius looks slightly horrified as his eyes fix on Stede, too. He awkwardly bows his head and says, "Captain," with an odd nod to Izzy.
Stede sighs. "Rewick the canons, Lucius," he says. He can't bring himself to say anything else.
"Really?" Lucius asks, making a face, and then looks at Stede again and starts to slowly walk backwards. "Okay. Sure. Can I get Black Pete to do it with me?"
"Sure," says Stede, closing his eyes again as he deems the interaction over. But then Lucius says,
"Come on, Iggy. No need to continue gracing the captain with your presence."
"Actually," says Stede, entirely sure he's going to regret what he's about to do and yet not entirely mentally sane enough to stop himself from doing it, "Could you stay, please, Izzy?"
Izzy only looks at him hard, scanning him from head to slipper-covered toe.
"He can tell us all what to do well enough without you ordering him to, you know," says Lucius, and Stede feels a faint surge of fondness towards them both, "I hardly think you're stable enough to deal with him."
"I appreciate your input, Lucius, but kindly piss off," says Stede, leaning back against his headboard. Lucius raises his eyebrows and then backs away, shutting the door behind him. And then, because he can see Izzy hesitantly trying to creep away, as if testing if Stede actually wants him there, Stede says, "Stay here, Izzy. Come and sit by me."
Izzy sighs as his feet drag him over to Stede's bed. If there's one thing Izzy can be relied apon for, it's that he will always follow an order, especially it's Stede giving it with as much confidence as he just did. That's taken it out of Stede, though, and he slumps back into his bed, letting his eyes fall closed again as Izzy's shadow comes over him.
"Looks like you're having a bad day, then," says Izzy, his voice mocking, and his hand slowly starts to comb through the curls that have plastered themselves to Stede's face.
"Something like that," whispers Stede. Izzy scoffs. "I don't want to fight, Izzy. Not today."
"Really? I would've thought that'd make you feel better."
"No," says Stede faintly, "Any other day, perhaps, but I don't have the energy. It's not like I'm going to remember any of this that clearly anyway. It's all a bit blurry to me."
"Ah," Izzy hums, and Stede thinks he hears a shred of understanding in his tone, though he can't be sure. "What do you want me here for, then?"
"Not sure," murmers Stede, "'Cause I fucking hate you, and I can never stop thinking about it."
"About how much you hate me?"
"Exactly," says Stede.
"I can't, either," says Izzy, and he sounds oddly upset about this, and it strikes Stede that he's not sure if Izzy's referring to his hatred of Stede or Stede's hatred of him. "Were you thinking about it before we disturbed you?"
"No," says Stede, "Can't think about anything right now."
"Oh."
"I just wanted you with me," says Stede, and Izzy's hand pauses it's stroking of Stede's hair. Stede cracks one eye open to see Izzy watching him, looking vaguely miserable. "Thought you might help."
"I'm your first mate; I have to help."
"Mm. Thought being around you would help. Even if you're a twat."
A sad smile tugs at Izzy's lips. "Do you really think that?"
"Yeah," says Stede, "But it's endearing. Sometimes. I don't know. If it wasn't my crew you were abusing, I might enjoy watching it. You get very passionate."
"And you like that?"
"You ask a lot of questions, don't you?" asks Stede. Izzy chuckles.
"Only when I want answers."
"Fuck off," says Stede, closing his eyes again. Izzy's hand brushes against his, and Stede grasps onto it.
"Are you - are you alright, Bonnet?" asks Izzy, not even managing to mask the concern.
"No," says Stede distantly, "Not really."
"You're not thinking straight."
"Probably not," Stede agrees, "I don't really... I don't have the energy to care much, right now. So if I'm acting strange..."
"You always act strange," Izzy grumbles, and Stede smiles up at him.
"Yeah," Stede says, "I probably do."
Izzy shifts uncomfortably under Stede's warm gaze, and Stede forces himself to redirect it, because it's weird to be looking at Izzy so fondly, even he knows that.
"Is there nothing else I can do?" Izzy asks. Stede feels himself soften a little.
His head's starting to spin a little, and so he closes his eyes as he whispers, "Get in," pulling the covers off his bed to let Izzy in. Stede's sees Izzy's eye twitch as he takes in Stede's silk pyjamas, sees him start to shake in something like indignance and disbelief, and then he crumbles under the weight of the order, untying the laces of his boots and crawling stiffly into Stede's bed.
"Happy now?" he rasps resentfully.
"Not quite," murmers Stede, and he pulls Izzy into his arms, feeling Izzy collapse into his embrace and pull them closer still.
"Oh," he says roughly where his face is tucked into Stede's neck, "Okay."
"Okay?"
"Yes, yes, okay, fuck off," he says, irritated, and then presses a kiss to the crook of Stede's neck. "You're not gonna remember this, right?"
"Does it matter?" asks Stede. Izzy sighs.
"I don't know," he breathes, "Yes. No. I want it to."
"We could do this more often," says Stede.
"We can't. I hate you." hisses Izzy with as much anger as he can considering that he's in the middle of languidly kissing the back of Stede's neck.
"The feeling's mutual, dearest Izzy," says Stede as Izzy lightly bites down on the skin, "That part doesn't have to stop."
"So, what?" asks Izzy, "You want me to come and - and cuddle you?"
"That doesn't seem to be a problem for you right now."
"Fuck off."
Stede can't stop himself from smiling faintly. "Is it so difficult to believe that I appreciate you and our antagonism, and that I want to express my affection for it?"
"Yes," says Izzy.
"Why is it that you enjoy kissing me so much, then?" asks Stede, and Izzy goes still.
"I don't."
"You're a bad liar."
"Fuck off, Stede," says Izzy, "Fuck you."
"Well-"
"No," says Izzy, his voice hoarse and muffled against the pillow, "You're such an idiotic twat, telling me how to do my job when I've been at it for decades and you just suddenly decided to go have fun as a pirate, because your whole comfortable life just got too boring for you. You have the indecency to - to ruin several good men," Stede doesn't comment on that part, he doesn't dare, "And then you come for me, coming to, what, make me fucking give in and spend all of my time letting the ship sink as I lose even more of my dignity fucking cuddling you!?"
Stede wants to respond with something equally pissy, but the anger doesn't come. He settles for winding Izzy up in the way he can manage, his other favourite way, instead.
"Not all of your time," says Stede, "You can still be a prick the other 23 hours a day." Izzy huffs in frustration. "And besides, I need you to keep us afloat."
"You need me," repeats Izzy numbly.
"Yes," says Stede simply, "I do. And I wish I didn't, because I would prefer literally anyone else. But if I'm going to be forced to spend my time around you-"
"We might as well be doing this," murmers Izzy.
"Mhm."
"Not because I - care about you," says Izzy.
"Of course not," Stede says, a little sarcastic. He can feel Izzy's scowl.
"Because I don't."
"Sure," says Stede. Izzy removes himself from Stede's embrace to glare at him.
"Just-"
Stede doesn't want to hear what Izzy says next, so he kisses him. There's not even a pretense at anger, just Izzy melting into Stede's touch and wrapping his arms around him with a groan. Stede chuckles. His amusement is faint, but Stede grasps onto it, and tries to enjoy the warmth of Izzy's body and the fact he can't stop smiling as he kisses Stede.
"Are you- is this helping?" asks Izzy eventually, pulling himself away.
"Well," says Stede thoughtfully, "It was. Now you've reminded me and I feel bad again."
"Shame," says Izzy, "I should leave you to suffer, but-"
"Kiss me, Izzy," Stede orders, and Izzy's eyes fall shut.
"Of course, Captain," he breathes against Stede's lips.