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"Ed! There you are."
It's a beautiful morning, the sun already high above the horizon, but when Ed looks down from the crow's nest and meets his eyes, it's like the sunrise all over again.
"Yeah," Ed calls out. He's sitting on the upper deck, legs dangling over the side. Stede's taken back, with startling clarity, to their very first morning spent together. "Congrats. You found me."
Stede bites his lip. It's been a while since he's known where he stood with Ed. He doesn't know how to do this—but then, he hasn't known how to do just about anything since becoming a pirate, and that's never stopped him before.
He just knows that he's in love with Ed, at the end of it all, and he really wants to make this work.
"Well, can I come up?" he calls back.
Ed makes a gesture that could mean either it's your ship, do whatever you want, I don't care or yes, Stede, I'd love to have your company on this fine morning. Either way, it's permission, and Stede will take it.
He walks up the stairs, hauls himself up the rest of the way by the ropes. He's a lot less unsteady on them than he used to be, even with the heel on his shoes. Even with the wind up here cutting through the finely woven linen and lace of his shirt.
"Hi." Stede takes two steps closer to Ed, summoning all the bravery he can muster. "Can I sit?"
Ed's staring out at the ocean. When he turns to face Stede, it's devastating, like a punch to both his gut and his heart. He's the most handsome man Stede's ever known, and he's looking right at Stede, enormous brown eyes wide with uncertainty and no small amount of terror.
It makes Stede feel a little better, knowing that Ed's scared, too. That he doesn't know what he's doing, either.
"Yeah," Ed says. "Why not. Go right ahead."
Stede sits at a right angle to Ed, back against the support post. Ed scoots back from the railing and leans back against the post, too, close enough that they could hold hands if they wanted.
"I'd offer you marmalade," Stede starts, "but it seems our stores were rather depleted while I was gone."
It's the wrong thing to say; he knows that immediately from the way Ed's entire body tenses.
"It's all right!" he hastens to say. "I'm sorry. That's not what I meant."
Next to him, Ed relaxes a little. "No worries," he says. "We'll definitely get more. That was the good shit."
Stede nods, a few too many times. What is he meant to say here?
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you what happened to me," he tries again. "Would you like to hear about it?"
"Hmmm. Not especially." Ed twists around to look at him. "Maybe later. Do you want to hear the song I wrote? It's pretty damn depressing, to tell you the truth."
Stede tries to take this new information in stride. "Maybe later. You wrote a song, though, that's great! I've always stressed the importance of creative outlets in times of—well."
"Mmmm."
They sit in silence for a few moments, letting the ocean breeze ruffle their hair and clothes.
"Hey," Stede says when he can't stand the quiet anymore, "are we going to be okay? You and me."
The ensuing silence stretches on so long that he thinks Ed's going to let that sit, unanswered, but then—the impossible happens.
Ed rests his hand on the deck, in the empty space between them, palm up. It's such a clear invitation that even Stede can't miss it. He accepts, resting his palm in Ed's and curling their fingers together.
"You found me," Ed says again. "And I found you, again. I guess we can figure out the rest as we go."
Stede smiles, a tentative thing that feels fragile on his face, and squeezes Ed's hand tighter. "I guess so."