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Stede loves going out in Soho. The energy there makes him feel like he can still make up for all years of queer joy he missed out on.
Ed loves Stede, but he does not love Soho. Because whenever they’re there, he hears whispering. Sees the little sideways glances. Sure, he’s been recognized in his local Tesco before, but that kind of thing is pretty rare these days. Soho, however, is another story.
It’s where those films got made, after all. It’s where they got shown and bootlegged and passed around and even though it’s coming up on 30 years since he did the last one (for 150 quid and a bag of sub-par weed, as he remembers) he’s inspired WAY too many gay awakenings to not be noticed out to dinner or in the clubs.
The sensation the movies caused when they came out had been kind of unprecedented. It certainly wasn’t because they were GOOD—Ed’s heard that there are occasionally Rocky-Horror style showings where people yell responses back to the absolutely abhorrent dialogue. The pirate costumes were all terrible, the sets basically painted flats in a small loft. But, Ed…Ed was good. Mesmerizingly good. Rewind-the-tape-and-watch-those-last-two-minutes-again-because-you’re-this-close-to-getting-off good.
So good, that even all these years later and without the luxurious facial hair, he still can’t entirely escape Blackbeard’s legacy.
He and Stede have only been together a couple of months after a process that Ed thinks of a bit like coaxing a feral cat out from under a woodpile—any sudden moves were met with scrabbling paws and a tail disappearing around the corner. But fuck, it’s been worth it for the nights cuddled together on the couch watching terrible telly and fingers intertwined over coffee, soft hazel eyes gazing into his. Does Ed want more? You bet your arse he does, but he would rather move the speed of a fucking glacier than pressure Stede into anything he doesn’t feel comfortable with.
And Ed has a feeling that that might also include telling him about the Blackbeard films. At least, for now. Someone who’s already mortifyingly self-conscious about their lack of experience probably does NOT need to know just yet that they’re dating an honest-to-god former porn star.
So, when the two young men nervously approach them at their table in The Yard bar’s outdoor seating area, he is on high alert.
“Um, yeah,” the ginger one squeaks out, voice wobbling a bit, “Sorry to bother you but are you—?”
“Ready for another drink?” Ed blurts out, trying to signal to the bloke with his eyes that he should choose his words (especially if those words happen to be ‘are you Blackbeard’) wisely.
“Darling,” Stede laughs lightly, “You’ve hardly touched your first one.”
The slender Asian lad tucks a strand of artfully tousled hair behind his ear shyly.
“See, we were just sitting over there and I said to Graham, ‘you know who that doesn’t half look like?’”
“Just an ordinary bloke out enjoying a drink with his boyfriend?” Ed asks hopefully, with another pointed stare that he hopes broadcasts, say one word about ‘whippies’ and I will make you wish you were never born on a frequency that these two are tuned into.
Stede smiles and lays one of his beautiful hands on top of his, taking a sip of his cocktail.
But these two kids have obviously a few drinks deep and are NOT picking up on the frantic messages he’s trying to send.
Ginger guy (Graham, presumably) looks like he might be about to swoon.
“It IS you! I just wanted to come over and say that the first time I watched—“
“Strictly Come Dancing? Love Island? Both great shows!” Ed says, louder than necessary, now openly glaring at the couple interrupting their date and threatening to force him into a deeply uncomfortable conversation that Stede’s not even remotely—
“Love, you know they want to tell you how much they liked the Blackbeard films,” Stede says, popping an olive from the charcuterie tray in his mouth. “Just let them.”
Ed’s mouth falls open and he stares at his date.
“You…you knew?”
Stede leans forward, resting his chin in his hands.
“Why do you think I was so bloody nervous when you first approached me? It’s not every day the man you lusted after while watching him plunder his first mate’s booty over and over strikes up a conversation with you at the coffee shop!”
“Oh my god, Desh, they had a meet-cute!” squeals Graham, grabbing hold of his friend’s arm. “When’s a porn star going to introduce themselves to ME in the street?”
One of Stede’s fingers traces the serpent tattoo on Ed’s forearm and he lowers his voice.
“Ed, have you been taking things so slowly because you thought I’d perhaps be…intimidated by your past?”
Ed’s entire brain has liquified and is currently leaking out of his ears, so he can do nothing but nod blankly.
“When all I’ve really been wanting is to find a way to tell you that I’d like you to ‘hoist my mainsail’, so to speak?”
Graham and Desh are eyeing each other uncomfortably, but Stede leans in even closer to Ed, till he can smell the sugar from the rim of his cocktail glass on his lips.
“What are you waiting for, captain? Run. Me. Through,” he whispers.
Before either of the young men know what’s happening, there’s a screeching of chair legs, a twenty pound note on the table and a rumble of piratical laugher disappearing up the pavement.
Ed loves going out in Soho.