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Two days at sea with Stede fucking Bonnet, and already this. Just Izzy’s luck.
A series of circumstances had led to him leaving the Revenge to search for the very man that he’d been glad to lose. He’d gone from Barbados—where he’d spoken with Bonnet’s widow, of all people, though Bonnet wasn’t even dead—to a tiny port town further north, and another, and another, until he’d found him. After screaming at Bonnet for abandoning Edward and at his damned crew for not dying like they were supposed to, and then narrowly avoiding a duel thanks to Oluwande stopping them from stabbing each other, they’d finally agreed on a temporary truce.
Bonnet had been incredibly smug about the whole thing, in the end. Glad to be needed by Edward, and by Izzy Hands of all people. Didn’t even appreciate Izzy for making his journey to Ed easier; he’d have ended up on the clear opposite side of the globe, if he’d followed his original plans. Twat.
Should have been smooth sailing from there. And then of all the people in the seven seas, they’d just had to sail right past William Rowan’s ship. His flag was a clear warning, but not that they’d be a pirate’s next victims.
No, the warning was this: Izzy Hands was in trouble, and by the time he realized, it was too late. Izzy didn’t manage to get below deck or at least out of sight before he and Rowan locked eyes and he saw the unmistakable glint of recognition in them.
“Izzy! Ahoy there!”
Shit. He was the last fucking person Izzy wanted to see right now, when he was busy trying to make things right with Ed and keep Bonnet’s head on his shoulders in the meantime.
“Izzy?” Rowan called. “Hey, it’s me!”
Maybe he ought to pretend he’d suddenly gone deaf.
But either Bonnet couldn’t read the room or he just didn’t care, because he returned Rowan’s wave even as Izzy was trying very hard to disappear into the wood grain. “Ahoy!” he called, because of course he did. “Izzy, is this a friend of yours?”
“Bonnet,” Izzy hissed. “Bonnet, we’re not friends.”
“Well, that just makes it better! Don’t think I could trust anyone who got on too well with you, to be honest.”
Fair enough. “Just don’t let him on the fucking ship, I don’t want to deal—”
“D’ya mind if I come on over?” shouted Rowan. “No invasion, mates, just for a little reunion.”
And Bonnet’s life’s mission seemed to be making Izzy miserable whether he was aware of it or not, so he just looked at Izzy, completely ignored the look of disgust on his face, and welcomed the other captain on board.
Rowan was as charismatic as ever, and twice as pushy as he used to be. Almost immediately his crew was laying a plank between the two ships for the captain and a few of his men to cross. Izzy forced himself to think of Edward, how the kraken had consumed him, and how much happier he’d be once Bonnet was back, and that was all that stopped him from tossing himself into the sea. Still almost seemed better than putting up with both of these idiots at once.
Bonnet was ready with his hand up, waiting to greet the visitors, and Izzy stiffened when he realized that they were brushing right past him to Izzy. At this, his and Bonnet’s frowns were identical, though for different reasons.
It was only when he reached Izzy that Rowan stopped, a big smile on his big stupid face, and the man was a hugger, Izzy knew that all too well, but thankfully also able to read the room enough to just offer Izzy a nod instead. “Izzy! No, no, I should say— Captain Hands. I’d heard you were sailing with Blackbeard still, but it must have been an old lead. Fine vessel you have here.”
And it was a fine enough vessel, one that he and Bonnet had stolen from an unsuspecting merchant, but none of the rest was true. There’d been a whole argument about this before they’d set off, and a vote—Bonnet was trying this new democratic kind of pirating. Somehow he, Bonnet, and Boodhari ended up all tied, and none of them wanted to end up in a three-captain situation, so the ship technically had no captain. Everything by popular vote, like in ancient Athens, Bonnet had happily declared.
Which Izzy wasn’t about to explain.
Nor was he in any mood to explain that he was indeed still sailing with Blackbeard, there had just been a little bump in the road, and Izzy’d had to retrieve his boyfriend before something regrettable happened.
“Captain Rowan,” Izzy said instead. “I see you’re not dead.”
“I’m the captain of this vessel, actually!” said Bonnet, striding over to join them with surprisingly confident steps. “Izzy’s my first mate.”
“The fuck. No, I’m not.”
Bonnet’s obsession with play-acting at piracy was exasperating at the best of times, but he sure as hell wasn’t getting away with pretending to be Izzy’s boss now. Should have just let things be and let Izzy take charge for the time being and chase this useless man away as quick and efficiently as possible. But that’s not Bonnet’s style, dealing with things in a way that makes sense and keeps Izzy sane.
“Izzy, must you always be so contrary, I am trying to—”
“I have never accepted you as captain and I’m not going to start now.”
“We have guests.”
Rowan’s eyes had been darting between the pair, trying to suss out something, but he shrugged. “Not guests any more, if Izzy’s not the captain. We’re raiding you.”
“Um,” said Bonnet. “I don’t think I heard you right.”
“He...” said Rowan, and gestured at Izzy, “is an old companion of mine. Would rather not take his things, if I can help it. You included, if you happened to be the boatswain or some such, even with the perfect curls and the open shirt. But the captain? Now you’re fair game.”
Bonnet frowned, and tugged at the collar of his shirt—which was, in fact, far more open than any sensible person would leave his clothing, especially one who sunburned as easily as he did. “That hardly seems polite.”
“He’s not polite, you dolt,” said Izzy, grimacing. “He’s a fucking pirate. And he’s good at it, too.”
“Why don’t we just—”
“Why don’t you leave this to me, and I will fix it.” He had no idea how, but any plan he could come up with would surely be better than Bonnet’s. He could hold his own against Rowan if he had to (the man was skilled with a sword but not a match for Izzy) but Bonnet would no doubt suggest some kind of captain-vs-captain bullshit, and he wouldn’t be able to win a second duel on just good luck and technicalities. “This mast isn’t fucking cherry wood.”
Bonnet wrinkled his nose, and cursed under his breath, but he acquiesced.
“Izzy! You leaving your captain, then?” Rowan was idly fingering his gun, just to remind them it was there. “I’ll let you if you want. Already got a first mate but you can be next in line.”
“I only need one captain, ‘til the very minute I die,” Izzy answered, automatically. It was a question he’d been asked before, and an answer he kept at the ready, because he did only have one captain—it just wasn’t Bonnet.
“Huh. Seems like an awful lot of loyalty to your boss. Unless...”
Oh, he’d better not be implying what Izzy thought he was implying. “Just hurry up and raid us so I have a reason to run a sword through you.”
Rowan chuckled. “Yeah, well, I wouldn’t be complaining.”
“Christ,” Izzy muttered. This was why he didn’t want the man on his ship in the first place. They had a history together, and Rowan was clingy. It was only an occasional night of distraction, when they happened to be in the Republic of Pirates at the same time. He’d taken the whole thing too seriously, didn’t understand that Izzy was more concerned with his job than with having fun in shitty hotel rooms. Almost cried once, when Izzy left without staying the night, because Edward had tracked him down and told him he needed him for something.
“Stay on my ship and you can run me through any time.”
“Izzy, is he... um, do all pirates say that?” Bonnet said, frowning. “Edward asked me to do the same thing.”
“Yes, Bonnet, it’s a very common turn of phrase. Nobody’s here to be creative.” And Izzy didn’t want to think about Bonnet being the sword-wielder any more than he already had.
“Your captain seems worried!” Rowan said. “Dare I ask... lovers’ quarrel?”
The expression on his face was smug, and Izzy had to choke back a laugh. How ridiculously wrong he was, thinking that he and Bonnet would even give each other the time of day if they weren’t forced to be on the same ship.
But. Rowan didn’t want to hurt Izzy. The cleanest way out of this might, unfortunately, be fuckery.
Izzy wasn’t much of an actor—that was Edward’s thing, and Izzy would just lay the more practical parts of the plan—but this time the lie had been laid out in front of him for the taking. And Bonnet, loathe as he was to admit it, could pull these things off well. So fuckery it was, to keep them all alive.
“Yeah,” said Izzy. “Lovers’ quarrel. So will you buzz off?”
“I beg your pardon,” said Bonnet.
“He’s my matelot.” The lie felt strange in his mouth, like a betrayal. Not that he and Edward were partnered like that, not that either of them would ever ask that of the other, but if Edward had asked... well, if Edward thought of him like that, he and Bonnet and Izzy wouldn’t be in this position in the first place, would they, so there was no reason to dwell on it. “So an attack on him may as well be an attack on me.”
Bonnet seemed wildly confused, but at least realized he ought to shut up. As for Rowan, well, he was the same as always.
Stupid. Brash. Committed.
“This guy? Izzy, really?”
On paper, Stede Bonnet sounded like a desirable enough partner. He’d defeated Izzy in a duel, technically, and he’d gotten the better of Blackbeard too. Not an effective pirate, but certainly an accomplished one. “What do you mean, this guy, what’s wrong with him?” Izzy said, almost offended for Bonnet. If nothing else, Edward’s chosen partner was being insulted, and that meant that Edward was being insulted. Rowan didn’t need to know that was the reason for Izzy’s hackles going up. “You’ve heard of the Gentleman Pirate, yeah?”
“Yeah.” Rowan shrugged. “And I’m not impressed. Came from money? Big whoop. Has he even, you know, pirated anything?”
At this point the crew had all gathered behind them, and small as the group was, Bonnet seemed to be bolstered by their presence. “I certainly have!” he said. “I’ll have you know that Izzy chooses his captains well!”
A complement to Edward, naturally. Izzy’d explained what had happened to him after Bonnet had left, but it hadn’t deterred him one bit, and he was still as obsessed with Edward as ever. Maybe even more so, now that he realized what an impact his absence actually had.
“Oh yeah? Prove it.”
“I shall!” Bonnet put his hands on his hips. Paused there.
“Well, fucking duel me,” said Rowan, after a moment.
“Oh! R-right! Let me just—”
“Hey, Izzy. I kick your man’s ass and then you think about joining me after all, yeah?”
“Like I’d agree to that,” Izzy muttered.
Bonnet had taken his sword in hand and brandished it in a manner that he surely thought was threatening. “En guard, fiend! A duel for Izzy Hands’, uh, hand!”
Jumping straight into the ocean would probably be less humiliating, and cleaner.
Ridiculous as the whole situation had quickly become, the crew was more than happy to clear the deck for this farce of a duel. Oluwande gave Izzy a meaningful glance, one that reminded Izzy that he pitied him, but really, he’d made his own bed here, and he didn’t feel especially inclined to help get him out of it, which—all right, fair. Izzy was really just lucky that nobody had seen it fit to deck him in the face as a treat before they agreed to put up with him for long enough to get back to their friends. Lovers. Whichever; he wasn’t really keeping track.
He was inclined to go below the deck, maybe hope that the pair of them killed each other, but the crew seemed to have already predicted that, and Wee John stood menacingly in front of the steps. Probably wouldn’t actually do anything, but the giant of a man could tie Izzy up in a knot if he wanted to, and Izzy wasn’t about to test that theory.
Could just hide. But—
“Izzy!” called Stede Bonnet, bonny and bright in the midday sun despite the fact that he was pretending to be in a relationship with a man he utterly despised. It was bizarre to hear his name in Bonnet’s mouth—finally the correct one, not Iggy—and stranger still to see him smiling and waving at Izzy. Like he enjoyed his presence or something. Like he thought Izzy was something worth fighting for. “Izzy, I’m going to win this one for you, my sweet shortcake!”
Izzy blanched at the nickname. How the fuck had Bonnet come up with it? Nobody had called him sweet probably ever, because it just wasn’t true. Izzy was all sharp edges and hash words and putting up with cruel torment. He was something bitter, maybe, or sour. Should be calling him coffee grounds or stale rainwater.
Honestly. What the fuck was he thinking, even if they were mates he would never put up with this shit.
“Shut the fuck up!” Izzy called back. “And don’t call me that!”
Bonnet just laughed, and did some kind of strange and meaningless flourish with his blade. He was just acting, of course he was—that was why he and Edward got on so well in the first place, because they both liked to see piracy as a show to put on, and themselves as the actors. With Edward that was fine, because he was still skilled and his fuckeries helped to create their legend.
When it came to Bonnet... Bonnet didn’t know shit about using those theatrics in a way that was actually helpful. He was just playing his role for the fun of it, just found pointless, unproductive joy in pretending to be someone that he wasn’t. It was bad enough when he was playing at piracy, and then at being Edward’s lover, but now he’d moved onto… some kind of swashbuckling hero, Izzy supposed. He had the loose, open shirt and the tight pants and a purple sash around his waist that he’d picked up somewhere, and Izzy’d never seen a pirate who dressed like that other than in storybooks.
And now he was play-acting at being Izzy’s matelot. Which was Izzy’s own damn fault, technically, but Bonnet didn’t have to enjoy it so much.
“I know you’re angry with me, dearest, but I’ll still win this one for you!” Bonnet called, apparently unshaken by Izzy’s tone. Fucking ponce.
Thing is, Izzy had never been called sweet or dearest or any of that. He wasn’t built to be treated kindly and spoken to with words of affection, least of all by Bonnet.
“Are you embarrassed?” Wee John asked.
“Shut up,” Izzy mumbled. “Watch the duel.”
Bonnet was… well, to put it frankly, he was shit at swordplay. Edward had taught him the ropes, in between getting buggered, but he’s still barely got the basic stance down. Not Edward’s fault; it’s about where he’d expect someone to be after a few months of lessons, which was fine if you’re a bored landowner and utterly dangerous if you’re a pirate.
The saving grace was that Rowan, skilled as he was at other things, was only an average duelist himself. If it had been him against Izzy, there’d be no contest. Bonnet’s creativity might give him the edge, just the same as it had during Izzy’s own miserable fucking duel with him. Maybe if Izzy got closer, gave him some guidance...
Ridiculous, wanting Bonnet to win. But Rowan seemed pretty interested in re-igniting their past flame, and there was no time for that, not when he had to get back to Edward as soon as possible. And though it wasn’t a duel to the death, Bonnet dying when he didn’t have to seemed nearly as likely as him winning when he shouldn’t have the skills. Then Izzy would be fucked.
That was the reason why he would cheer for Stede Bonnet this one time. That, and no other.
The duel began in short order, with the two competitors standing at the ready in the center of the deck, and Oluwande calling the start. Izzy watched them in silence as they stepped forward and their swords struck—Bonnet thrusting and Rowan parrying—and as Rowan quickly claimed the advantage.
“You’re a stubborn one, but not so strong!” Bonnet said, while being slowly driven toward starboard. When you did a lot of fighting on ships, you learned how to force your opponent to go where you needed them to. In the heat of a raid it was useful; now, it was just a way to show off. Bonnet, of course, didn’t even seem to recognize it. “I suspect you haven’t sharpened your sword since the last time you saw Izzy!”
“Big words from a man who took the offense even though he’s not been able to land a single hit,” said Rowan, though neither had he. What a braggart. If Izzy had been dueling Bonnet in broad daylight like this, he’d have easily at least grazed the man’s arm or cut off a few of his golden curls. Their dance was sad to watch, honestly.
“Hey,” said Roach, who was standing nearby, nonchalantly smoking. “They both kind of suck, yeah?”
“They do,” replied Izzy, glad that someone else had noticed. Maybe this ship wasn’t completely run by buffoons. Roach probably wasn’t skilled with a saber either—a chef’s knife though, maybe—but he seemed a man who knew his own strengths and weaknesses, unlike his captain. “Not so strange, honestly. Piracy is as much about show as it is strength, for most people. Scare a merchant group enough and their ship is yours, whether you could actually kill them or not.”
“Captain’s a showman, too.” This, despite him voting for Oluwande. What kind of hierarchy was this, did he respect the man or not? “You calling him a good pirate?”
“No. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. It’s not purposeful.” A beat. “Could learn, though, is the thing. Maybe if he figures out how much he still has to go.”
“It’s the power of love, sounds like,” Wee John said. “Could give him the edge. Congratulations, by the way, I had no idea.”
“Mmm,” Roach agreed.
Izzy grimaced. “We’re not actually matelots, you idiots.”
“Oh yeah, why would he lie though?” Wee John said.
“Hell if I know, because he didn’t know what he’d be getting himself into if he lied.”
As though Izzy himself knew what he was getting into - ever, really. Since he’d met Bonnet all of his plans had gone astray. First losing Edward to Bonnet, then losing him to the British, and then to the kraken. He couldn’t be taken seriously among the crew, couldn’t even keep them in line long enough to get the barnacles scraped off the side of the ship. And now he couldn’t even bring Bonnet back to Edward without something like this happening.
“I knew it!” Black Pete grinned. “I knew once he was with Blackbeard even once, he wouldn’t want anybody else.”
Before Izzy could respond, Bonnet finally drew first blood. It wasn’t much, just a nick on Rowan’s face, and Bonnet’s sword could have very well just slipped out of his control, but it was first blood nonetheless. Izzy cursed himself for not suggesting that be the stipulation for victory, for getting so caught up in Bonnet’s nonsense that he hadn’t thought to make sure the rules of the duel were in Bonnet’s favor. Now, they had to keep going.
“Did you see that, Izzy?” Bonnet called. “I did that! For you!”
“What,” mumbled Izzy, and then, louder: “What are you talking about?”
“For you, I’ll spill any blood. Like— like the thorns of a rose, a beautiful gift of love, but dangerous nonetheless!”
Izzy hadn’t expected there to be metaphors. And he was no poet, but he could figure out what that one was supposed to mean: that Bonnet saw himself as a romantic at his core, and dangerous. He was at least halfway right—there was no room for romance on the high seas, but he had been a danger to Edward. And to Izzy’s sanity.
Something rose in him, settling in his chest alongside his pounding heart and the anger that laid beside it. It felt strange, too tight, like it did when Edward told him well done or I need you here. He wasn’t sure what it was called, couldn’t put a name to it. Didn’t really want to, either.
“He’s flirting with you, Mr. I’m-not-his-matey-Hands,” said Roach, grinning through his cigarette and pointing at Bonnet. “You should answer.”
“Your cheeks are red,” Wee John added
He wanted to fucking scream, to make sure everyone knew that he hadn’t the slightest fondness for Bonnet. But the crew would find a reason to be strange about that too, so he just let himself stew.
His cheeks were not fucking red.
“Your man doesn’t seem impressed,” Rowan said. “Bored of him, Izzy?”
Bonnet gasped, loud and theatrical. Not believable in the slightest, more of that theatre nonsense that he seemed to love so much. “Israel! What did I do to upset you?”
Fuck. How’d he even find out what Izzy was short for? Edward must have told him, like he told Bonnet any damn thing he wanted to. And what kind of person started to call someone by their full name when they started a relationship?
“Nothing!” Izzy called back, and though the thought of returning the pet names in kind briefly crossed his mind, there was no way he’d have been able to pull that off with a straight face. Besides, anyone who knew him could tell that he wouldn’t talk to anybody like that, even a partner. “Just... be careful, yeah? I need you.”
Bonnet’s face went through a series of emotions, from surprise to satisfaction to grim determination. Stupid; wasn’t a lie to say that he needed him, it was just for Ed’s sake. “Okay,” he finally said. “Um. Thank you, my sweetest!”
“Jesus,” Izzy muttered.
“It’s very kind of you to allow me a break, to work things out with my matelot!” Bonnet said to Rowan, getting back into his same lopsided stance. “But now, we continue!”
“Aww,” said the Swede, who may or may not have picked up on the fact that they were lying at all; you could never tell with him. “He needs you.”
“He’s not taking you seriously, you twat,” Izzy muttered, ignoring the peanut gallery in favor of Bonnet. “Get him fast, before he expects it.”
What he got in return was a frown and a raised eyebrow, almost like Bonnet didn’t expect any actual advice, but for once in his life he managed to keep his mouth shut and just get on with it.
Bonnet charged his opponent all wrong—there were too many openings, too many ways an enemy could so easily sink their own weapon into his soft bits—but it did seem to take Rowan off-guard, and that was really all that Izzy had asked for. He didn’t hit him, not even close, didn’t even try, but he wound up behind him, which did leave an opening, and...
“Coulda had him there, Captain,” Oluwande muttered.
Shit. He really could have.
And if Izzy was inclined to notice this kind of thing, he might have acknowledged that at least Bonnet looked good with a sword in his hand and a grin on his face. But he wasn’t, and he didn’t. Really.
Bonnet was faster than he used to be. Stronger, too, and it took him longer to get winded. Not unimpressive, considering his age. Izzy knew all too well that it was enough of a challenge to maintain your athleticism as you grew older, to say nothing of improving it. When their swords finally clashed, at least he could keep up.
After a minute or so, it became clear that his lips were moving, too. Izzy had to move closer before he could make out the words.
“—and I’ll never let you have him. Not now, nor ever! As a spirit I’d haunt you, as a wraith I’d make you regret you were alive, and a vampire I’d— oh, um. I’d haunt you, also!”
Bonnet was talking about Izzy again. Of course.
“The fuck’s a vampire?” said Rowan. “Sounds lame.”
“Oh no, they’re very cool!” said Stede, smiling even as he did his best to not get stabbed through the gut again. “Suck blood, you know, so probably not a very tasty diet, though you can make a pudding— ah, and there we go! Speaking of!”
Bonnet’s cheerful tone, nonchalant as though he were offering Edward his tea, hit Izzy first. Second was the realization that it was Rowan who’d been gut-stabbed.
“Shit!” said Rowan, falling to his knees. He was barely bleeding out, what with the whole blade in him, and Bonnet had missed all the important bits. Still, it must have hurt like hell. Izzy’d been in the same position, though not recently. The man was definitely not about to keep fighting; Bonnet had won.
“Well!” Bonnet said, hands on his hips. “That’s that. There will be no raids today.”
“Shit,” echoed Izzy. It was the result he’d been hoping for, but he could still scarcely believe it had actually happened. “You actually fucking did it.”
Behind him the crew was hooting and hollering, but Izzy’s eyes were fixed on Bonnet alone. He looked almost picturesque standing over Rowan’s body in his silly little outfit, like some kind of storybook pirate prince or some other nonsense.
He looked... almost dashing. When they got back to the Revenge, Edward didn’t stand a chance.
“I did do it, didn’t I!” Bonnet said, shocked as anyone. Izzy braced himself when he stepped closer, and indeed Bonnet took him in his arms in some kind of silly little victory hug.
And then Bonnet dipped him low, holding his arms tight around him, and crushed their faces together.
It was an awful kiss, objectively. Bonnet clearly knew nothing about how to judge the force or the distance of it. No doubt Edward, enamored as he clearly was by Bonnet’s utter lack of skill, refused to offer him any constructive criticism. At least he didn’t use tongue.
Still, it made Izzy feel... something. He was certainly experiencing an emotion, and it wasn’t the desire to strangle Bonnet in his sleep. This was something softer, more precious somehow. Almost as though he’d liked it when Bonnet kissed him, even hoped it would happen again.
Almost, but that would be ridiculous.
“Stede fucking Bonnet, what the fuck,” said Izzy when Bonnet pulled away, still holding him in unexpectedly strong arms.
At the same time Bonnet said “Oh my God, I didn’t mean to do that.”
Challenging as it was, they both ignored the wolf whistles from the crew—mostly Wee John, from the sound of it. It felt as though they were in their own little world, though that world was made up of Izzy trying to glare a hole through Bonnet’s face (the only reason he was looking at his lips, definitely) and Bonnet suddenly speechless (which probably meant that even he couldn’t think up a believable bullshit explanation for this).
Now that Izzy had begun to return to his senses, an understanding of the strange thing he was feeling began to set in. Bonnet belonged to Edward, of course. Bad enough that he’d seduced Izzy’s captain, but now he was being unfaithful to him. It was disgusting, and frankly it was unthinkable.
“Did you forget this whole thing was a fuckery, Bonnet?” Izzy said, voice like venom. “We’re not actually—”
“I didn’t forget, I just got swept up in the moment!” He’d forgotten for sure, Izzy thought. No object permanence now that Edward wasn’t nearby, like a little child. “That’s just what you’d do when you won a duel for your lover’s hand!”
“How many others have there been?”
“Huh?”
“Who else have you been kissing, in between Edward and me? Plenty of time to do it when you ran off to be away from him, yeah? Or if you were proper sneaky about it, you could have had some fun on the side, even before you left.”
“Izzy, I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about.”
“Kissing people other than your boyfriend is unfaithfulness, Bonnet,” Izzy spat. Bonnet would no doubt call himself and Edward lovers, but he could barely bear to think of it, let alone say it out loud. There was no love between them, Edward had no time for that nonsense, and if Bonnet had been strutting around like a little tart, that went both ways. “I knew your crew was loose, but you?”
“Izzy—”
“Had the finest pirate in all the seven seas wrapped around your little finger, and you—”
“Christ, Izzy, I just kissed you. No need to be so rude about it.” Finally, Bonnet sat him back up on his own two feet. “Just say you think I’m unappealing and hate kissing me and be done with it.”
Izzy brushed himself off, scowling, trying to brush every place that Bonnet had touched. He wanted to agree, just to end the conversation here and now, but that wasn’t the point. “I don’t hate you, Bonnet. Didn’t. Hated what you did to Edward, but... well, doesn’t matter. Things have changed.”
“It’s not cheating to do it as part of a fuckery!” Bonnet insisted again, though the pink flush across his cheeks betrayed his true feelings. It seemed that he’d liked it too—that he’d liked it, Izzy quickly corrected himself. Just him.
Whore.
Izzy didn’t need any of this nonsense. Only Edward was allowed to stir up these things deep in his gut that were marshmallow-soft and sticky- sweet. That was called loyalty, and was reserved only for his captain—his real captain, not his captain’s co-captain, or whatever nonsense they’d come up with next.
Fuck. All Izzy had needed to do was to get Bonnet back to the Revenge safely. An easy task, and he’d had to go and muck it all up by having emotions.
“I’m telling Edward when we get back,” said Izzy. Though he knew that Blackbeard finding out that his first mate and boyfriend had been locking lips when he wasn’t paying attention might just make him worse. But it ought to be an effective enough threat for Bonnet. “He’ll decide what to do with you.”
Bonnet sniffed. “How unnecessary. Fine, tell him! And mention it was part of a brilliant plan, which I pulled off without a hitch, will you?”
“I will!”
“Then do it!”
“I absolutely will!”
“Okay, okay,” said Oluwande, stepping between them. “I don’t know what the hell is going on, but I’m separating you two.”
“Good! Separate us!” said Bonnet.
“It’s like wrangling a bunch of children... Oh, and congrats on your victory, captain. Really well done. Jim’d do the same thing.”
“Would they!”
“Well,” said Oluwande, considering. “Nah, not really. But Jim would’ve won, too, and that’s almost the same thing. They wouldn’t have pretended to be Izzy’s matelot though.”
“No, I suppose they wouldn’t.”
“That’s all you, Cap’n.”
“In any case! Izzy and I aren’t speaking now, so that settles that.”
“I... you know what, sure, fine. Good plan.”
Izzy spat onto the deck, wishing it were Bonnet’s stupid, glowing face. Looked like a fucking angel in the right lighting, but he’d probably come straight from hell.
Ignoring him completely, or at least pretending to, Stede turned to leave, only to nearly trip over the body on the deck, still alive for the time being. “Oh, and Roach, do you think you could help him out?” he asked, cheerfully calling to the surgeon.
“Thank you,” Rowan groaned from the deck. If he’d followed any of the quarrel taking place, he said nothing. Either delirious from the pain or just didn’t give a damn, and Izzy was fine with either possibility. Long as he didn’t start spreading rumors, it didn’t matter one bit what he thought he saw or heard.
It didn’t matter. None of it mattered. This was all for Edward’s sake, and if the thing that would make him right was seeing the most unbearable person in the whole fucking world again, well. Izzy had never been an especially lucky man.
From the maintop, Izzy looked out over the open sea, not a single frankfurter in sight across the whole sky. All of this was his fault, when it came down to it, and that was the worst part. Shouldn’t have gone along with Bonnet’s nonsense. Shouldn’t have needed Bonnet in the first place, could have taken care of Edward himself if he’d been better. Shouldn’t have told Edward the exact things he needed to hear to be intrigued by this fancy man and his fancy ship, then they could have just kept on going like before, Edward bored and Izzy on the brink of a breakdown at all times, but at least together, without Bonnet mucking everything up.
“Izzy!” a voice called. And of course it was Stede fucking Bonnet, climbing up the ladder. Around his neck was a tray of what appeared to be pastries, for some reason.
“Bonnet,” Izzy said. Not angry, he didn’t even have the energy for anger now. Just exhausted.
“I found you!” He sounded triumphant, even though there were only so many places that Izzy could possibly be, since they were on a goddamn ship, and not even a big one. “Pete made this so that I— so that people could climb around without dropping food. Isn’t it nice?”
Izzy eyed the tray with great trepidation. The items on it may have at one point been arranged with care, but during the climb they’d run into each other, fell off the plate, and all that. He suspected that a few hadn’t even made it all the way up.
“Don’t like sweets.”
“That’s fine, we can barely afford sugar. Sweetened mostly with dried fruit. Here, try one!” he handed Izzy one of the pastries, really just a simple bun studded with raisins. “You keep track of the stores, surely you know that.”
“We’re pirates, could just fucking steal some. You never asked me to keep track of the stores.”
“I didn’t. That’s Oluwande’s job. But I know you do it anyway.”
“I do,” Izzy admitted. “Had to make sure you didn’t let everyone starve to death. But he does a good job.” He eyed the pastry in his hand. It looked normal enough, but Roach most definitely knew how to poison a man. Bonnet probably did too, with all those odd little oils and fancy little teas he liked to collect. “The fuck’s this for?”
“I upset you,” said Stede. “By kissing you. And I don’t think it ought to have been so upsetting, really, hard not to take it personally, but—”
“You did upset me. But not by kissing me. By being unfaithful to Edward.”
“Can you let me apologize, Izzy?”
“Apologize for the right thing at least,” Izzy muttered, taking a tentative bite of the pastry. If it was poisoned, it might be best if he just dropped dead now and left Bonnet to deal with the consequences. “You’re a terrible kisser, though.”
“I’m not unfaithful to Edward,” Bonnet said. He looked like he was truly settling in next to Izzy, like he’d planned to stick around for a whole conversation about their stupid feelings. “I love him, and very dearly. There, are you happy now? I never even had a chance to tell him that.”
“Think you liked it when you kissed me. If you loved him, you wouldn’t have been able to do that with anybody else.” The pastry tasted perfect, not too sweet, just as Izzy preferred. “Anyway, you’re not in love, you’re just insane, and I don’t give a damn about that either. But if you’re going to seduce fucking Blackbeard, the least you can do is stay loyal to him.”
Bonnet wrinkled his nose, the way rich boys often did when they got too close to Izzy. “You’re not getting it.”
“Fine, I’ll spell it out for you! Obviously, you’re turning your affection elsewhere, now that Edward’s not around. And I didn’t know what stupid little tricks you used to make him go all soft for you, but now you’ve started using them on me. And I get it now, all right? It’s fucking working, and if you don’t stop I’m going to—” As Izzy spoke he’d been clutching the bun in his fist, harder and harder until it crumbled to bits. “Ugh!” he threw it in anger, unable to articulate much of anything else. It plopped in the water unceremoniously.
Bonnet was silent.
“Happy now?” Izzy said.
“Don’t waste food.”
“Are you even capable of stopping your prattling?”
“You think I’m trying to seduce you.”
“Obviously you’re trying to seduce me.”
“And you think that because—”
“Because it’s fucking working, Bonnet, I already said that.”
Bonnet stared at his feet like an idiot. Even then the light shone around him like a halo, and Izzy caught himself foolishly thinking that there was something about Bonnet that was too good, better than he deserved. Men like Bonnet spat on men like hm in the streets, and it was only because Izzy was employed by his boyfriend that Bonnet didn’t do the same to him.
“All right, wow. Um. I have a lot to think about, Izzy. Thank you for your insight.” Bonnet quickly stood up, apparently having found his wits again after the time spent processing the fact that Izzy had seen straight through his scheme. He set the tray down, leaving Izzy several more buns. “Well then, goodnight!”
He left quicker than he’d come, scrambling down the ladder like it was on fire and from the sounds of it nearly knocking Buttons out with his knee. Good.
Izzy took another one of the buns, eyed it apprehensively, and took a bite. Of course it was good, and of course it wasn’t poisoned. Edward had been seduced with food; no wonder Bonnet thought it might work on him as well. And he was right in that there was no need to waste something edible. Good, even.
Just a few more weeks until they caught up with the Revenge. He hoped. Until then he’d just have to resist Bonnet, make sure he didn’t get any further in his disgusting, coquettish plans. Meeting Rowan had just been a ridiculous fluke that caught them both off-guard, and Bonnet had taken advantage of it.
Izzy could resist Bonnet’s bright smile and strong arms and creative wit until then. He had to, so that when the dust cleared he could tell Edward that at least he’d been unwavering. That might just be the ticket to making everything right again.
It might. There were too many moving parts here, too many maybes. Stede Bonnet had already upended Izzy’s whole life, his entire purpose, and now he was threatening something even worse: splitting Izzy’s loyalty.
But Izzy would stay strong. Someone fucking had to. He’d never fallen for anyone in his fifty-five years of living, and he certainly wasn’t about to start now, least of all for Bonnet.