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His mouth tastes of blood, salty and coppery and familiar now as the taste of fine sugary things. Oozing over his pallet, filling the gaps between his teeth until he swallows it down like some horrid medicine. It could be coming from any number of places really. One minute he was on one hell of a rush, of dueling and real swashbuckling, and one too-slow dodge later he was getting knocked on his ass. He hadn’t seen the bugger coming. Distracted by a Frenchman who he was really having quite a good time toying with. Some self-righteous meathead who seemed to know how to come just out of his peripheries. Well, maybe he’d also gotten a bit cocky. But it was still rude. Of course, once he’d found his bearings, he’d decked him right back. Satisfying to say the least, his lessons with Roach had been paying off. He didn’t realize how many places he hurt until quite a while after, as Ed gives him a look full of worry.
“Fuck Stede, he really got you good, mate,” he says as he gently takes Stede’s chin and turning him side to side for further scrutiny. He flinches and the worry line between his love’s brow grows deeper. “Did that hurt?”
“No,” Stede lies, in what he thinks is a convincing voice. Surely if Ed had gotten hit the same he wouldn’t even budge. But then, Stede would be in a far less calm state than Ed is now. Based on previous times in which he’d been injured, he couldn’t stand it. He may be used to the violence that comes with the job, but Stede is decidedly not, when it comes to him.
Ed scoffs, showing a glimpse of teeth in his crooked smile. Ah, maybe he’d been hit harder than he thought, he feels dizzy. “Yes it fucking did, c’mon.” His hand trails up to brush Stede’s bangs from his forehead, looking at him with a mix of amusement and concern. Possibly also frustration, a little bit.
“It’s fine, Ed, really just a bruise,” he tries to wave it off but it’s not very convincing when his words are a bit slurred and sticky with blood. He can handle it, really. He’s gotten very good at handling it. It wasn’t all that hard actually, he’s got quite a high pain tolerance. Though many would say otherwise. Even when he’d been decked out in frills and hadn’t quite so many scars he had a high pain tolerance. A fact he enjoyed trotting out for a show whenever his pirate integrity was put into question. Stede could take a hit, he could take a stab, he could take it all. Granted he may sneak off and have a little cry and a nap about it later but in the moment it’s nothing. In the moment he could sneer and say tough things like “do your worst” or “is that all you’ve got” or something else really clever.
He knows it’s about time to throw in the towel though when Jim fully stops in their tracks walking by to gawp at him. They hiss and well, that can’t be good. “Damn, Stede, that’s a nasty one, you still got all your teeth, man?”
“Come now it’s-”
“Right? Fuckin’ thank you,” Ed says to Jim with a roll of his eyes then to Stede: “see, a second opinion. They agree with me, ya dick.”
“Look if I say it’s fine then it’s fine. You should have seen his face after I was through with him!”
Jim barks out a laugh at his outburst that would make Stede feel laughed at if it were a stranger, but it’s only Jim. And he’s learned he’s very fond of teasing when it comes from his family.
Meanwhile, Ed has slowly cocked his head over to them, in that slow sulking way he does where his neck looks limp. “D’you see what I have to deal with here?”
“You’re so strong,” Jim nods solemnly, pursing their lips. “Stede, stop being a baby and let Edward baby you,” they say with one last pat on his co-captain’s shoulder before sauntering off toward Oluwande.
“But I-” he’s cut off by a twinge in his jaw and he shuts it. “Fuck.”
“Stede,” Ed murmurs, his tone is much less jovial than before and he looks up to see the real look of care on his face. “Let me take care of my husband.”
Stede’s heart still jumps into his throat when he hears the word. Hearing it not soaked with contempt, with disgust, with disappointment, with an accompanying frown, but with unadulterated joy and comfort. He stops resisting the guiding hand at the small of his back ushering him toward their cabin. “Fine, but I’m coming right back up here to take stock soon as it’s over. Can’t leave Lucius to do it himself, I’ve learned my lesson there.”
Ed smiles a crinkly smile at him as he hawls him away.
“Go sit yourself down on the bed, tough guy, I’ll be there in a tick,” Ed commands as they enter and he dips out into the hall. Stede sighs and does as he’s told. Sitting with his hands on his knees tapping his anxiety into his kneecaps. Trying to pay attention to everything else but the throbbing that has now taken over his whole face. God he probably looks a mess, like that time a bee had stung him in the cheek as a small boy. All red and blotchy and snot and tears. No one had done a thing then though.
“Here we go.” Ed comes striding back into their quarters with the usual ‘we’ve just had a raid and we’re a little worse for wear’ supplies. Really they should be keeping them in here at this point. He’d sort that out later, make sure there was enough for the crew to use in the other cupboard still. After all, they all needed them much more than the two of them did. A steady hand pulls him from his thoughts, rubbing up and down on his forearm and he looks up to see that worried face again. This time from a chair he’s pulled up to the bed. The simple gesture only makes him want to curl up like a child and cry that much more. It’s one of Ed’s signature touches, he wonders vaguely if it was ever given to Ed. “Comfy?”
Stede nods, his mouth hurts too much to talk now. Ed takes his chin again, gently holding him in place and he tries very hard not to wince this time. Then there’s a wet rag dabbing at his split lip.
“Ah,” so much for not wincing.
“Stay.” It’s said low and rumbly and it warms him from the inside. Reminiscent of the charming little wildcat who’d made their reunion possible. Hope he was getting along well. The cloth dabs again and though he hisses this time he stays still. “Baby,” Ed mumbles with a subtle smile. Words of protest bubble up in his throat but he swallows them down, he’s staying still.
Rather than focus on the sting he focuses on his love’s face, so close he might be a little cross-eyed. Nothing there but a calm and focused expression. Pursed lips and stormy brow and occasionally biting his own lip in concentration. God if he didn’t feel like he’d just been hit with a bookshelf he’d lean forward and kiss them. Ed had the most perfect mouth, regardless of his clear bias. With a wide and swooping cupid's bow and pouty bottom lip, framed by his scratchy salt and pepper stubble that tickled Stede’s skin and gave him goosebumps. Sometimes Stede missed the beard and wondered how it would have felt to kiss that way. But he certainly preferred this. He’d be concerned such a magnificent beast of a beard and mustache would get in the way of…certain activities, yes some including kissing. Anyway he was greedy, he liked seeing as much of his husband as he could. Inevitably, Ed catches him staring and smirks, his eyes sparkle with knowing. And god it still makes him blush awfully. How could he do anything else? When it was suave and charming and mischievous, dirty from the fight like the rest of him is, Blackbeard and Ed and Captain Teach.
Blessedly he does what Stede can’t, leans up, and places a kiss beneath his eye so gentle it makes his heart quiver. Right where it hurts most.
“Ed,” he sighs. He attempts to smile but his wounds won’t allow it and he only gets about halfway before his eyes burn with tears again. “Ouch, dammit.”
“Oh, love,” Ed says in that same silky voice, like warm milk to get to sleep. He twists his mouth to the side sympathetically and rubs his shoulder again. “Almost done, alright, then I’ll stop messing about with your sexy face. Gonna sting more though.”
Stede chuckles quietly as the rag returns this time with stinging alcohol and he goes back to the safety of studying Ed’s face. He wants to say some joke on that, on messing with his face but he’s so tired he doesn’t particularly feel up to it. Instead he says, “I wish I could kiss you,” rather pitifully.
“I know, I know,” Ed says with much more patience than Stede really deserves. “There’ll be lots of kissing each other’s faces once you’re not all bloody and bruised.”
Much more patience, more kindness, and for something so silly. This is all a waste of time. And he’s stupid for it. For whining at Ed while he’s trying to clean up Stede’s foolish mess. While he’s sitting here like a pathetic little boy while he has to wash him up and kiss him better. He remembers the same sting of the bee. His father was right, it had served him right to be stung, to be pricked by the plants, served him right for being in the flowers where he did not belong. Served him and his poncy little outfit right to get a bloody nose. And why hadn’t he hit them back? And why hadn’t he worn what he should have? Too slow that’s what it was, too soft. His sneering face blurred by tears that seemed as though it were ten feet in the air. Stupid thing to cry over, just a cut, just a bee sting, just a bruise from a rock thrown by a rowdy class chum. He could take it, he could cry quietly where no one could see and patch himself up later and not look so soft and pathetic and in the way and-
“Stede? Stede?”
He opens his eyes, he hadn’t realized he’d closed them at all. Oh. He feels a hot tear brim over and down his cheek and the breath he heaves in is far too loud. Like he’s just sprung from water. A vision of Ed swimming with tears in front of him, he can’t make out his expression. But it can’t be good. “I’m sorry,” he whimpers, god how awful that sounded. Get a hold of yourself man.
“What?” Ed’s voice is raspy, confused. He should explain better, he should stop crying already. “What’s the matter, love, are you hurt somewhere else? Fuck I should have checked you over better, I knew-”
“You didn’t have to do this,” he interjects, swallowing any more tears that are trying to come up. “I could have handled it. You should be out with the crew, having a rest,” he gestures vaguely to the door. If anything he looks more puzzled, his eyes gone wide and his mouth hanging open.
“Did you…” he searches Stede’s face. “Did you not want me to? I don’t have to if it upsets you, is that what’s upsetting you?”
It wasn’t that. It wasn’t that at all, of course, it wasn’t Ed’s fault. He didn’t do a thing wrong, it was all Stede and now Ed felt he was in the wrong. Stede opens his mouth but all that comes out is a lot of cut-off noises, stops and starts. Can’t even string together a single word. Useless and now he’s made Edward feel bad on top of that and he can’t even fix it.
“Hey, no worries,” Ed rushes out, he takes Stede’s hand and uddenly Stede’s whole world is shrunk down to his thumb as it brushes back and forth over his knuckles. “You don’t have to talk yet. No talking required, here, okay?”
Stede sniffs, does his best to nod. He can’t bear to look up, so he squeezes his hand and Ed squeezes back equally and a sob escapes his clenched throat.
“We can talk it through and shit when you’re feeling up for it. Or never, whatever.”
“Mmhm.”
“Aw, Stede.” He clicks his tongue and Stede sighs as he feels a forehead gently rest against his, mindful of his injuries. “I hate seeing you so upset. Makes me wanna go out and do some maiming on whoever made you sad. Chop off some fingies maybe a couple toes.”
Stede laughs wetly and is rewarded with a kiss to his nose, their foreheads still leaned together. As if he’s trying to read his thoughts through their skulls. As if they didn’t already seem to be able to do so from opposite ends of the ship.
“D’you want a cuddle?”
The word makes him laugh again but he nods. He really would like a cuddle very much.
“Good, okay, yeah, let’s do that. Because I really want to hold you.”
Their hands squeeze again before letting go as they both shuffle onto the cramped bed. Or cozy as Ed likes to call it whenever he complains of it’s challenge in size. When it’d been built he hadn’t thought anyone would be joining him in bed, so of course it was only made for him. But it was hardly an issue, especially the first times they’d shared it, when they were both clinging to each other like a pair of confused boas. Ed especially would wake shaking from some nightmare he would not share and would not let Stede from his arms for some time. And all Stede himself could do was hold him until the tears ebbed and assure him as well he could how very much he was loved.
As soon as they’re settled he lays his head down on Ed’s chest, breathing deeply the smells caught in the dark cotton of his cropped shirt. Feeling his own heart slow to match the one thumping beneath his ear as Ed holds him, his hand untangling his now unruly blond curls. It must have fallen out of the ribbon at some point. He squeezes Ed’s side where he’s thrown his arm over and Ed sighs and kisses his hair. Safe, warm, still fucking in pain but he’s here. He’s in his tiny bed with the man he loves most in the whole of the seven seas. Now that there’s not ringing in his ears, on deck he can hear faint sounds of the crew laughing. The stomps of a jig are accompanied soon by bongos and by Frenchie's pleasant voice and strumming lute. Celebrating their new treasures.
“Sounds-” his voice comes out wrecked and he clears his throat, speaking halfway against Ed’s collarbone. “Sounds like a party.”
There’s a soft sound of fabric as Ed shifts to look down at him and he looks up, meeting in the middle. The the warmth there beaming from his crinkled-up brown eyes, wraps around Stede’s heart and squeezes.
“Sure does, bet there’s gonna be a fucking mess,” Ed says, though there’s no heat in his words. Stede feels like he’s floating, smiling back at him all sleepy-eyed, all the exhaustion seems to have slammed into him at once.
“Of course,” he mumbles, there’s a stray hair caught on some of the stubble on Ed’s face. He reaches up and tucks it away. How he manages to keep it so pristine after the performance he’s just seen him put on is beyond him.
Ed squeezes him tighter and he hears his breath skip, his eyebrows screwing up in that loving way. “You feeling okay now?”
“Very okay,” Stede says even with the little pit of guilt still in his stomach. He cups Ed’s cheek. “Thank you, darling.”
“Of course.”
“For…” he takes a steadying breath. “For taking care of me.”
He sees him swallow, his expression darkening for a moment before he answers, more meaning to the words this time. “Of course.” His hand comes up to cradle the back of Stede’s head, secure, warm. “Stede, I’ll always take care of you.”
Stede swallows as well, tracing the smile lines on Ed’s face. “Even if it’s something silly?”
“Especially if it’s something silly. The sillier the better.”
“Even when I’m being a stubborn ass about it?” Stede needles, smiling triumphantly as Ed’s face turns grumpy, a little huff through his nose like a raring bull. Stede feels giddy, he feels a giggle bubbling up from his chest and holds it with his breath.
“Listen here Bonnet,” Ed grouches, and Stede lets the giggle bubble out of him with a yelp as he’s artfully tossed onto his back. Then he’s being loomed over all fake menacing. “I am going to take such fuckin’ good care of you, you won’t even know what hit you. I will be the best carer that has ever cared for anyone. Ever.”
“Yeah right,” he says with a snort. Ed pinches his side for his trouble and Stede yelps yet again.
“And as somewhat of a stubborn ass myself, you better be ready for it,” Ed adds
“Well,” he sighs and tries to make as big a show of doing so as he can. “I guess I had better get used to it, then.” A look of brusque satisfaction settles on Ed’s face as he grunts his approval. This face had toppled whole fleets of ships, Stede ponders as he licks his thumb and reaches up to wipe away a stray smudge of black on his cheek. And topples him daily. Ed nuzzles against his hand, his eyes flutter closed as he kisses his palm and then his wrist. He looks so tired. “As long as you’re ready for me to do the same.”
Ed harumphs against his arm, still on his mission of lingering kisses along the tendons. He mumbles something that sounds sort of juvenile but Stede doesn’t catch it.
“You know how I adore spoiling you, dear,” he continues, though his voice has gotten quite airy. “Spoil you rotten. You’ll be sick to death of luxury by the time I’m finished with you.” Those soft lips remain halted on his forearm as Ed looks up from beneath his lashes coy and hungry. Without a second thought, he would topple a hundred ships for this man, a thousand fleets. Though first he’s got to get the handle on coming back from a single raid without injury. That might be a good step. “You’ll be sick of me.”
“You’ll have to work pretty fuckin’ hard for that, mate.”
Stede smiles so wide he forgets the pain in his cheeks until it begins to sting again and he quells it. What had that man’s mother fed him? Good god. “I’ll have that kiss now, thank you.”
“Hmm dunno mate,” Ed says hoarsely, tipping his head back and forth. Really weighing his options.
“Please? Just a small one.” He pinches his fingers together to measure, putting on his most pleading look. Which seems to be just enough to break Ed’s resolve. He shakes his head fondly from where he’s still sort of hunched over Stede. The smokey cascade of Ed’s hair falls around them, making little ribbons of the afternoon light across his gentle face. How very well Ed suited evening light. And morning light. And moonlight. And god dammit even the light of a shifty tavern. There wasn’t a time he wouldn’t fall in love with him all over again. Their lips just barely brush, a small one, like he’d asked for. Light and nearly shy, the way Ed brushes new fabrics across his face to judge the texture. One of the things he’s excelled at most, telling the very quality and make of a fabric quick as you please. Though Stede can hardly take credit for that, surely he’d known that far before they met. Before he knows it the soft lips are gone from his own and he whines with it, trying to hold him there at his neck.
“Now, pet,” he rumbles, Stede can feel his breath still on his lips. “I love your sweet mouth too much to kiss it,” he trails off as his fingertips graze over Stede’s lower lip. “Not in this condition anyway. Don’t wanna damage the goods.”
“Suppose you’re right,” Stede outright pouts with disappointment but he lets go nonetheless.
“I always am,” Ed begins untangling himself to get up.
“Where are you going?” Stede sits up with him, only a tad upset his pillow is walking away.
“Up on deck,” he says with a solid slap to Stede’s flank and oh he’s going to be thinking about that all evening. “C’mon, can’t let them drink all that rum themselves.”
“No we certainly can’t have that,” Stede agrees with growing excitement, hopping up from the mattress. As soon as he’s on his feet he’s pulled snugly into Ed’s side by the hip, slotting them together as they walk. “Though I might get out the brandy, I believe I deserve it after today.”
Ed chuckles and kisses his temple as they reach the end of the hall. “Sure do, tough guy. You got it right in the kisser.”
There are cheers from the crew as they join them on deck, even if some hardly look up from their cardgames and dancing. Really the ship didn’t have all that many things once they checked the hold, Lucius and Fang inform him. Mostly a couple crates and skeins of fabric. But the joy that buzzes on the Revenge, the warm way Ed is leaning into his drink-reddened cheek into his shoulder, it’s worth a hundred blows to his face. And maybe the next time he’ll be the one fixing him up, kissing his wounds, holding him, as he will until the day he dies.