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Summary
Stede reached out a cautious, uncertain hand to sweep a curl away from his restful features.
What if after the arcade when Stede stays at Ed's apartment, Ed actually woke up when Stede brushed the hair from his face?
“Sorry, I was just… I didn’t mean to wake you… sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
Later, when Ed is lying awake replaying this moment over and over again in his head, he will blame the rum and the moonlight and that safe feeling of sleep warmth. But in that moment, looking at Stede’s scared eyes, it feels completely right and natural to comfort him by pressing a kiss to his palm. He lets his eyes close, cherishes the way that Stede’s fingers gently brush against his cheek before he pulls away.