Work Text:
This party was much different than their first; it was a ball held in a new palace in Barbados with all the worst of French, Spanish, and English colonial high society represented. Ed had been the one to suggest going to the dance, but Stede could tell he was overwhelmed. Ed was leaning against the wall clutching a glass of red wine and watching the elaborately dressed attendees waltz in unison, guided by the orchestra playing on a raised dais. Stede politely navigated out of his conversation with a chatty Spanish woman to join Edward at the wall.
“Hello, Ed,” Stede said softly. Stede watched Ed’s eyes soften at the sight of him, wondering if his expression softened similarly when he saw Edward. He resisted the urge to kiss him right there, shamelessly, before the crowd of aristocrats. “Are you feeling alright?”
“Yeah,” his eyes wandered back to the swirling bodies on the ballroom floor. “How do they all know how to dance like that? It’s so… coordinated.”
“Oh! Well, we—they’re taught as children. Or they had tutors.”
“Hm.” Ed took a sip of his wine, his brow furrowed in concentration. He looked wonderful; Stede never got tired of seeing him in fine clothes. His beard had grown mostly back out and was washed and decorated with small red bows, a touch Stede had insisted upon. His coat was burgundy velvet with silver accents, his vest made to match, although it was partially covered by the white lace jabot that matched the cuffs of his shirt. His trousers were a brighter red silk complemented by black stockings and carefully shined buckle shoes. He was a masterpiece.
Stede blinked, realizing he’d been staring.
“W-would you like to learn?”
“Nah, man, don’t think so. Besides, I’m a bit old for all that.” Stede couldn’t tell, but he saw Ed blush at the question. He felt a sudden wave of determination come over him.
“Follow me,” he commanded, walking towards the ornate doors of the ballroom, propped open for visitors. When he reached them, he looked behind him to find Ed close behind, curiosity written across his face. Stede smiled. “This way.”
Stede hadn’t been here before, but the layout of these types of buildings was similar enough. He led them to a fainting room behind the ballroom, dark and quiet save the quite audible orchestra music from the other side of the wall. The room was perfect for their purposes.
“What are you doing?” Ed whispered as Stede pulled a small matchbox from his coat pocket and began lighting the candles around the room. Stede waited to respond until he was done lighting all of them, Ed’s question hanging in the air between them. Once finished, he turned to face Ed and tried not to let his nervousness show in his voice.
“I’d like to dance with you, Ed.”
It was silly, Stede thought, that his heart should be racing so much. He had danced countless times before. He wasn’t perfect at it, granted, but it wasn’t new to him. Yet the thought of dancing with Edward electrified him in a way entirely unfamiliar.
Stede saw hesitation flash across Ed’s face. He looked around the empty room, then back at Stede, and drew a shaky breath. “Alright. Teach me, then.”
Stede beamed as he closed the distance between himself and Ed.
“Of course, darling,” he held out his hand like a proper gentleman. Ed tilted his head down into his beard, something Stede had noticed Ed did when he was flustered.
“Right. Okay.”
When their hands met, Stede felt a giddiness rise up in his chest, reaching his throat. Years had passed since he’d last waltzed—he wasn’t invited to that many parties—but he adored it. Of all the aspects of high society he’d left behind, dancing was one of the limited few he’d missed. Gracefully floating along with the music with someone else, for just a few moments feeling part of something both ethereal and human. It was unmatched.
He oriented their hands properly for a waltz and guided Ed’s hand to his shoulder before placing his own on Ed’s waist. Ed was malleable, allowing Stede to position him without resistance while his wide eyes followed the movement attentively.
“I’ll lead, then?” Stede asked.
“Yeah, sounds good.” They were so close. Ed’s hand was warm in Stede’s and oh, Edward was beautiful. His hair, pulled back in an elaborate updo, shone as a silver halo in the candlelight. His eyes seemed to glow, framed by dark lashes that only made his eyes look larger. Stede forced himself to focus.
“So… first, waltzes are done in six steps that make a square. That’s all they are, really, then you can add your own flourishes if you like. I’ll show you the pattern then we can try it in time with the music. When I step forward, you step backwards.”
Ed looked down at their feet as Stede gently moved his right foot forward, nudging Ed’s left backwards.
“Now step wide,” Stede demonstrated, moving his left leg next. “Good! Now bring your feet back together. Now you step forward, I step back. And back to the start! Perfect, my love.”
Ed squeezed Stede’s hand, still looking down. “That’s not so hard, I guess.”
“Exactly. Now, let’s just get the hang of it, then we can try to time it with the music!”
Stede stepped forward once more, Ed stepped back. Stede stepped wide and Ed moved with him in sync, then stepped on Stede’s foot on the next move.
“Shit, sorry.”
Stede giggled. He felt light and happy, alone with Ed. They tried again, and did the steps perfectly. Then again. Slowly, Stede quickened the pace of their movements to match the tempo of the waltz drifting through the wall, guiding Ed out of the tight square, leading them into a graceful drift around the room. Soon, with only a few mishaps, they were properly waltzing. Stede felt the rise and fall of the music in his soul, felt as though each note and step added yet another strand to the rope connecting their hearts. He could feel it now almost tangibly as they moved together as one.
Feeling more confident now, Ed locked eyes with him and Stede wondered if those sharp eyes would ever fail to make him lightheaded. Warm light played across Ed’s face as they moved around the room, his eyes creased in a smile. He brushed Stede’s hand with his thumb, causing sparks to rush down his arm.
“Thank you, mate.”
“No, thank you . It’s too magical an experience to miss out on, I think.”
The music swelled in a crescendo; it must be near the end. Ed’s face softened into the one Stede had seen first after their last aristocratic function, alone on the deck of the ship in the moonlight. Stede led them faster around the room, more gliding than dancing.
“I’m going to spin you now.”
“What?” Ed barely had time to respond before Stede released his waist, raised their joined hands and led Ed in a twirl, catching him against his chest with his hand firmly on the small of his back. The music hit the last triumphant notes and Stede dipped him, bending Ed backwards as Stede leant over him, their noses gently brushing each other. Ed clung to his back and his hand, eyes wide with surprise, but Stede would never drop him. Silence filled the room as they both panted, hearts pounding. Ed began to shake with laughter, Stede grinned, and they stood up together. Ed pressed his forehead to Stede’s and put his arms over his shoulders. Stede rested his around Ed’s waist.
“Yeah. Magical.”
Stede hummed in contentment. They stood there like that for a moment, enjoying being so close, basking in the afterglow of the dance. If this moment lasted forever, Stede would be happy.
“Stede?” he breathed.
“Yes?”
“I love you.”
Oh, what joy! How magical those words were, spoken so softly from the only man who mattered. No wonder love inspired such sonnets, songs, and stories; Stede felt he could author an epic on the spot. He pressed their lips together, his entire soul aflame. Gently pushing forward, he backed Ed against a bureau. Ed lifted himself until he was sitting on the bureau. Stede broke the kiss.
“I-” he kissed Ed’s left cheek.
“Love-” he kissed his other cheek.
“You-” Ed giggled as Stede kissed his nose.
“Too.” He kissed his mouth again now, deeply, trying to pour all his love and hope and care and trust into the one gesture. Ed was just as desperate, if not more. He had never felt so alive. Flowers bloomed in his chest, entire gardens brought to life by Ed’s touch, his smile, his scent. Stede had come to love that smell of sea brine, and sweat, and something sweet Stede couldn’t quite place; the smell of Ed, of home.