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They don't exactly mean for it to become a thing, but there comes a point at which Izzy's cuddling Stede for the third night that week and it's starting to feel like maybe this isn't just the one time anymore.
"I still can't believe you walked all the way to my cabin after your watch just to cuddle," Stede yawns into Izzy's hair.
"I did fucking not," hisses Izzy.
"You did too. Missed my good bedsheets too much? I have offered to give you some."
"Fuck off, Bonnet, you know I came here to berate you about your fucking awful management of this ship. I mean, what kind of an instruction is 'sail towards somewhere with some sunshine?' What does that even mean?"
"Well, you know," says Stede lazily, "We've had a few choppy nights, I'd like to catch a few rays."
"You spoiled prat," snarls Izzy into Stede's chest, "Real captains don't decide apon the vaguest destination ever with no idea of direction-"
"Go in the direction of the sun!"
"It's the middle of the fucking night, you fucking buffoon! There is no sun! If you were a real captain, a good captain, you'd have a proper idea of where we're headed and it'd be for some important reason, not because you're getting vitamin D deficient!"
"Is it part of a good, real first mate's job description to sneak over to the captain's cabin after his shift to cuddle and pretend to be angry?" asks Stede, faux innocent. Izzy bristles beside him, and Stede tries not to laugh.
"You're an utter twat," mutters Izzy.
"Mm," Stede hums knowingly, pressing a kiss to Izzy's hair.
-
It's not an uncommon occurrence for Izzy to come storming into Stede's room, but that doesn't mean it isn't a slight surprise. Stede should've been expecting it, really: they never did resolve their bickering over the direction of the ship last night, and Izzy had been gone when Stede had woken up, leaving him alone and cold and feeling uncomfortably incomplete. And yet, Stede had been so tied up in the idea of trying to wake up earlier so he could catch Izzy before he leaves that he'd forgotten about the entire thing, which probably proves Izzy's point that Stede's an awful captain.
"Get out of the way," is the sentence that first comes out of Izzy's mouth when he walks in, and the second, after pushing Stede out of the way, is, "Where the fuck are your maps?"
"Maps?" repeats Stede, "Erm, probably around here somewhere."
"Please tell me you know where they are," groans Izzy.
"A please? My, I am lucky today. You must be in a good mood."
"Fuck off," says Izzy, starting to rifle through Stede's books, "I'd be in a better mood if you showed me the fucking maps."
"Well, they certainly aren't hidden in Romeo and Juliet," says Stede breezily. Izzy grits his teeth and turns around to face him, scowling, and Stede has to stop himself from grinning.
"You're going to tell me exactly where the maps are right now," Izzy seethes, getting out his knife and walking towards Stede threateningly.
"And what if I don't?" asks Stede. Izzy's eyes narrow. Stede feels a knife press against his throat.
"I could slit your throat," says Izzy softly. Stede chuckles lightly.
"Come on, dearest Izzy. We both know you would never do that," Stede says lightly. It feels mean, especially considering that this is exactly what they both make a point of not acknowledging - that Izzy would never kill Stede, because it would break his heart to.
Izzy scowls, flushing slightly. "How about this, then," he growls, "Your crew are the only people who even vaguely respect you, and their respect is weak at best. How would they react when they found out you only had me as a first mate because you like kissing me so much?"
"That's not the only reason."
"They don't know that. They can't see any value in me at all, except as a laughing stock," says Izzy bitterly, "I don't care what they think of me, I could leave and go anywhere else, work on literally any other ship. They'd mutiny on you. And then you'd be alone."
"Then I'd never talk to you again," says Stede, hoping it will be enough.
"You'll have to," says Izzy, "I'd be the only person left with a shred of respect for you. Your crew would have mutinied on you. Everyone else thinks you're an idiot. You'd have to back home to your ex-wife."
He's... got Stede there. It's an elaborate scenario, and logically Stede knows that that might not be the way it all works out, but Izzy spins a convincing story, and Stede has no doubt that he would follow through with it. Izzy would love to be the only person Stede could turn to. He'd relish in the power.
"You make a good point," murmers Stede.
"So?"
Stede sighs. "In the middle drawer of the cabinet on the left."
Izzy rifles through it, making a pleased sort of sound when he finds what he's looking for and placing it on Stede's desk. He picks up Stede's reading glasses with a thoughtful look, examining them.
"Those are reading glasses," says Stede helpfully. Izzy glares at him.
"I know what they are," he says, sliding them onto his nose. He looks - he looks good. Stede often forgets just how good looking Izzy is until he glances over at him doing something particularly handsome - practicing with his sword, doing whatever he does with the rigging, glancing at maps with a concentrated look on his face and Stede's reading glasses perched on his nose - and is suddenly fighting the urge to swoon and push Izzy up against the nearest surface to kiss him.
In fact, Izzy looks incredibly focused, perhaps too focused, and Stede is overwhelmed by the sudden urge to piss him off. And so, Stede reaches over the desk and places his hand over Izzy's.
"Stede," Izzy breathes, looking up at Stede through Stede's glasses. And Stede - Stede was expecting Izzy to be annoyed at him, but his reactions are so unpredictable, and Izzy often leans into Stede's touch just when Stede expects him to pull away. Izzy looks almost soft, now, but Stede just wants to poke him.
"Hey, love," says Stede, and he hears Izzy's breath catch and files that information away for later use, "You know, last time I checked you only had two eyes, not four."
Izzy's expression hardens. "Really?"
"No, I'm serious! Did you get the other two with your old age?"
"Fuck off, Stede."
"Oh, Stede, is it? Not only are you going blind in your old age-"
"I'm gonna fucking kill you,"
"-you're also going soft too! How delightful!"
And Stede doesn't even realise what it is he's hoping for until Izzy's right up against his lips and Stede can feel the glasses brush his face and he just can't get close enough to Izzy, so he just keeps kissing him and hopes at one point he'll get close enough.
"Door's open," Izzy murmers softly, then, and Stede's eyes widen as he rushes to shut it.
"Right," says Stede.
"Right," says Izzy.
"Thanks."
"Right."
"They can't know about this, you know," says Stede awkwardly.
"Of course not," says Izzy, an undercurrent of bitterness still present under his bemused tone, "Wouldn't want them knowing how much of your time you devote to kissing me."
"Piss off."
"And aren't these your glasses, too? Which you own? So really, if either of us has four eyes, it would most certainly be-"
"Alright, alright!" exclaims Stede, throwing his hands up in surrender, "I get it!"
"Good," says Izzy, smug and satisfied, and Stede wants to strangle him. "Can we get back to planning our route, now?"
And they should. They really should. But Stede can see circles under Izzy's eyes and can't help but wonder just how much sleep he actually got last night in Stede's embrace. It hurts a little to think about, but if Izzy didn't get much sleep when he was with Stede, maybe Stede should just let him catch up on sleep alone.
"I'll do it," says Stede, "You look tired. You should get some rest."
"Rest?" repeats Izzy indignantly, puffing himself back up again, "I don't need any fucking rest, what I need is for us to-"
"That's an order, Israel," Stede says quietly, and he watches as Izzy silently fumes for a second or two.
"Are you sure?" he asks like he's trying to cover up his vulnerability with an attempt at displeasure that's not entirely working.
"Of course," says Stede, and Izzy still looks so unhappy that Stede tilts his chin up and kisses him softly, smiling as Izzy's sharp edges soften with Stede's touch.
"Alright," says Izzy when they pull away.
"Good," says Stede, and then, because this softness and vulnerability terrifies him when it's with Izzy for some reason and he needs to have the last laugh, "Enjoy your rest, old man."
"Next time we spend the night together-"
"So, tonight,"
"-I'm gonna smuggle my knife into that bed and just as you're pressing kisses into my hair or whatever the fuck it is you do-"
"Last time I checked, you rather enjoyed that,"
"-I'm gonna drive it in between your ribs."
"Lovely, Izzy. I'll look forward to that. See you later."
"See you, Captain,"
-
That night, the crew settle into a group for card games, the warm light of the lanterns flickering across their faces. Izzy profusely refuses to join in, at first, declaring the idea 'ridiculous' and 'insulting', but Stede knows better and orders he join them once Buttons has taken over the helm. He sits stiffly at Stede's side at first, and gradually, as the drinks begin to flow and the buttery light starts to soften Izzy's angry features, he fits himself around the side of Stede's body, sitting close enough to him that the clasping of their hands is hidden behind the closeness of their legs. And Stede can't help but think, with Izzy so close and so open about it in front of all the crew, that he wants this, wants to openly express his affection for Izzy, even if it earns him a few judgemental looks and amused glances. Even if no one else understands why Stede wants Izzy close when he hates him so much, even if Stede doesn't understand it himself, (even if Stede doesn't want to, because, like a hypocrite, he is just so, so scared,) he wants Izzy close to him.