Work Text:
Stede arrives home just as the song starts. He’d heard the base thumping before he’d opened the door and knew Ed would likely be in the kitchen cooking or dancing in the living room. He can’t smell anything cooking so he assumes Ed is doing the latter.
“Darling?” Stede calls as he enters the house, though he doesn’t know why, the music is too loud for Ed to be able to hear him.
Stede puts down his bag and keys, takes off his shoes, and hangs up his coat. It had been a relatively typical day at work, but it’s nearing the end of the week so Stede is feeling a bit run down. However, he still smiles to himself as he moves through the house to the living room where the music is coming from.
Stede rounds the corner from the entryway and sure enough, Ed is dancing in the living room. He’s wearing a loose cropped band tee (Patti Smith, Stede thinks) and the pair of wide leg copper linen pants he’s been favouring lately. A small stretch of his belly is visible between his shirt and the waistband of his pants and it makes Stede’s heart beat faster to see it. His hair is down and fluffy; Stede assumes today was a wash day, and looks forward to tucking his face into it and inhaling the jasmine and cedar of his conditioner.
The daylight's fading slowly
The time with you is standing still
Stede vaguely remembers this song from 20-odd years ago. He’d liked it back then, but hadn't given it much thought. However, with the volume up, the bass thumping, and the peppy melody, it feels much more catchy than it had in 2000. It starts to clear his head of the normal buzz of the day and Stede shivers. It feels as if the music is being conducted directly from his chest, like it’s a part of him. His toes start to tap without his permission.
Ed punches his arms into the air, swings his hips, and bounces on the balls of his feet to the beat. He sings both the main melody and the backup instrumental parts as much as he can. Stede admires him. He looks so uninhibited. Not for the first time, Stede marvels at Ed’s ability to be this person, to be free and fluid and generally unafraid to move through the world at his own pace. Ed is the kind of person who is dialed into the beat of the universe; the earth moves and Ed moves with it, like a ship on the high seas, rolling and rocking with the motion of the waves, buoyant and strong. In comparison, Stede feels like he’s an ocean oil rig: stuck in one spot while the ocean rages and swells around him.
It takes a few moments for Ed to notice Stede is watching him, but when he does his face lights up, his eyes scrunch, and he breaks into a huge goofy smile. Stede can’t help but smile back at him. Ed dances his way across the room toward Stede, making direct eye contact. Suddenly Stede feels his body tense; he feels embarrassed, self conscious under Ed’s unwavering attention. The hair at the back of Stede’s neck stands up and his breathing becomes slightly shallow. It’s like there’s someone else in the room watching them. Stede tries to relieve the tension: he looks away from Ed, huffs a sigh, and tries to will his body to calm down. His smile doesn’t fade, though.
If Ed senses the tension or embarrassment, he doesn’t show it. He continues to dance, albeit slightly more controlled, as he moves closer to Stede. “Hey lover,” he says in a low sultry voice, volume just above the music. His movements shrink when he enters Stede’s space but they’re no less energetic, just more precise.
Stede gives him a glance, meets his eyes for half a second, says a quick and quiet, “Hello,” then looks at his feet, at Ed’s knees, at the hardwood, anywhere but Ed’s face.
From his periphery, Stede watches the tension in his body register on Ed’s face. Ed softens his eyes and drops his energy to a low and consistent warm hum. He seems unafraid of the internal ice storm that’s caused Stede to freeze. Stede knows that Ed knows that Stede is feeling… something, and Ed is being cautious. Stede can tell that Ed wants to give him love and affection, and that he’s trying to give it in a way that makes Stede feel loved and affected, and sometimes direct attention and touch is not the way to do it.
And if there's no tomorrow
And all we have is here and now
Ed sways slowly, still with the beat, and wraps one arm around Stede’s waist, tentative but strong. Stede sighs into it and places his hands on Ed’s chest, runs them up around his neck. The touch feels nice, grounding; Stede is able to meet Ed’s eye now. Ed brings his other arm around Stede’s waist and moves in closer so that their hips are almost touching. Stede realizes that they’re doing a version of the junior high slow dance position and giggles.
Ed smirks, “I know, just like junior high.” He starts swaying them a little more enthusiastically.
Stede takes a deep breath and tries to loosen his joints, make them fluid, soft, like Ed. He tries to calm his mind, tries to let the music dull the icy sharp tension in his chest and clear out the build up of negative stimulation from the work day. He wants to try to put words to the something he’s feeling, to talk with Ed about it, but he can’t quite bring himself to, doesn’t feel like the moment is right.
“Have you been doing this all day?” Stede asks to make conversation, and immediately cringes internally. A leftover impulse from his day at work, filling the silence with small talk. But this is Ed and Stede doesn’t have to make polite conversation with him. It’s okay if Stede doesn’t speak. He’d also learned recently that his tone and this line of questioning falls into the category of “bitchy,” and implies that Ed was supposed to be doing something else (thank you, Lucius).
Ed smiles and appears not to hear the tone or the implication, “Not the dancing, no, but this song’s been on repeat all day. It’s hitting me right in the pleasure center of my brain, releasing that sweet serotonin, making my nerves light up.” He waggles his eyebrows and sways his hips suggestively.
“Hmm” Stede intones. Ed is swaying in earnest now. He takes Stede’s hands off his neck, holds them firmly, and starts to shimmy them back and forth with the beat. Stede shimmies noncommittally with him, a steel pole version of dancing where Ed is essentially a pool noodle
So go on, go on,
come on, leave me breathless
Stede tries to relax his body, he really does, but his legs feel like, well, like steel poles. Like they’re steel poles submerged in the Arctic Ocean, the water rusting his joints where they aren’t frozen over. He feels hyper aware of his body and how it’s moving, especially how it’s moving in relation to Ed. And it still feels like someone is watching them, passing judgment, and –
Ah, there’s the something.
Stede realizes in an instant that it’s not about being watched; it’s not that he thinks someone is literally watching them. No, it's about the judgment, the discerning eyes of people who see them together. Why would someone as effervescent as Ed be directing all of his warmth and adoration at someone as odd as Stede. And because there’s no one in the room with them, no one actually watching them, Stede realizes it’s his own internal judgment he’s feeling. He doesn’t think someone like Ed should waste time giving someone like Stede affection. The realization makes him want to hide, to make some flimsy excuse about needing a shower or wanting to start dinner, anything to keep him from confronting that judgment and permeating the joyful bubble of Ed’s dancing.
But these are not actually his thoughts, Stede realizes, and he doesn’t actually want to leave the room. This is just a programmed response. He knows logically what he provides Ed and why Ed loves him, knows that he doesn’t judge either of them for choosing each other. But the judgmental thoughts are wet and sticking to his icy insides and he can’t quite make them go away.
He’s almost certain that his inner turmoil is showing on his face now. He notices that his mouth is turned down and his brows are slightly furrowed. Instantly there’s guilt: his internal negative self-talk is going to ruin Ed’s joy. Whether it’s by letting the negative thoughts speak over the things he knows are true, or by trying to dance and not being able to relax and getting it wrong. He’s going to cause a rift in Ed’s happiness and ruin it. And now, inexplicably, it’s all he can think about. Ed is joyful, free, and generous where Stede is nervous, closed off, and selfish.
Ed looks at him like he knows what’s happening in his head, because of course he does. Ed is equally in tune with Stede as he is with the universe. The song fades out and starts again as Ed lets go of his hands and places them on either side of Stede’s face. He looks at Stede, kind but insistent, and says, “Mate, there’s no wrong way to do this. You just move in a way that feels good. No one is watching. Not even me, I’m just over here vibing, doing my own thing.”
Stede tries to look away from him, but he can’t. He’s simultaneously annoyed and relieved that Ed can see him so clearly. Ed has a habit of making Stede’s insecurities seem extremely simple. And Stede does eventually appreciate it, though sometimes he resents how quickly Ed moves through his emotions to the absolute center of the issue. It’s like Stede has been trying to push a door open for ages and Ed comes along and shows him that all he had to do was pull it.
Ed removes his hands from Stede’s face and takes one of his hands. Ed falls back seamlessly into the beat, and sways his hips while shimmying them again. The smile on Ed’s face is so warm. Stede wants to meet him there, to be that kind of person, the kind of person willing to dance in the living room with their partner just for the joy of moving their body to the beat of a good song.
And I can't lie
From you I cannot hide
And I've lost my will to try
In an instant Stede realizes he’s never wanted to hide from Ed. He’s always wanted Ed to know all of him. As terrifying and vexing as it feels, he wants Ed to see all his flaws, the ones buried deep within him, the ones that need a dedicated archeological team and multiple grants to unearth. He knows he’s safe; Ed has proven multiple times how safe Stede is with him. But he hasn’t been able to convey that fact to his nervous system consistently yet. Something in his brain stalls out, shouts DANGER, and causes Stede’s body to freeze. And Stede knows it’s not just something, it’s a lifetime of never feeling understood, of having to weigh his every action against what he should do, of having to create multiple socially acceptable versions of himself to fit into the world, and sometimes doing all of that and still winding up pitied, belittled, and fragmented to the point where he’d lost who ‘Stede’ actually is. An entire lifetime, he reminds himself.
And he’s getting upset that he can’t overcome all of that damage in the span of a three minute song.
Stede takes a big inhale, holds it for 5 seconds, and lets it go slowly. Ed’s eyes are on him the entire time, supportive and caring, not gawking. Stede gives him a tiny smile.
The chorus comes on again and Ed can’t contain himself any longer, or he’s giving Stede the space to work himself out without eyes or hands on him. Either way the result is the same: Ed lets go of Stede’s hands to bounce and flail flawlessly in time with the song, twirling in a circle and shout-singing the lyrics again.
No one is watching, Stede thinks, and starts to bounce on the balls of his feet. The beat is quick, but not too quick where he feels like he’s trying to catch it. He tentatively starts shimmying his hips side to side, much smaller compared to Ed’s spirited movements.
Ed sings the lyrics to him, fist in front of his mouth like a microphone: make me long for your kiss. Stede smiles and starts to move his shoulders to counter the movement in his hips. He isn’t sure what to do with his arms and starts to worry about them. They go stiff in front of him, his elbows at a 90 degree angle, and his shoulders start to rise up to his ears. Ed’s words echo in his head: move in a way that feels good. Stede takes another deep breath and closes his eyes.
He thinks, weirdly, of seaweed swaying with the tide. He thinks of moving through the water himself, patient and smooth, the pressure of the water around him forcing him to slow down. He thinks of following the current of the water, letting it take him to where it’s going, not fighting it or causing a ripple or disruption in the flow. His whole body tempers itself down to half the beat. His arms drift in front of him. His hips are still swaying and he’s still bouncing slightly but everything feels drawn out, much less urgent. He feels himself turn in a slow circle. The icy self consciousness molded around his bones starts to thaw, and Stede feels his brain melt down his spine and flow out to his limbs. He circles a few more times and then opens his eyes.
Ed is looking at him. Stede can feel the impulse to tense up, to stop moving, to stop the ebb of spontaneity throughout his body. He feels it and he doesn’t want to do it. He wants to dance with Ed. Stede reaches out for him with one hand, and the look of pure delight that Ed gives him in return is worth every single moment of discomfort Stede’s ever had.
It's like a dream
Although I'm not asleep
And I never want to wake up
Don't lose it, don’t leave it
As soon as Ed’s back in his space, the rest of the ice melts and the dam bursts or he reaches a waterfall, or some other kind of water related metaphor; Stede can’t keep track anymore. Stede’s feet feel lighter and his arms are moving somewhere in front of him. He feels so embodied that he doesn’t even remember he has a body anymore. He doesn’t remember the precision with which he usually holds himself, can’t feel the weight of his shirt on his shoulders or the cinch of his belt on his hips. He forgets about shame and feels the movement of the moment. Their living room becomes a blur as he and Ed move into and out of each other’s space. There’s pleasure and joy radiating off of Ed like he’s a freshly zested orange; the air is so heavy with it, Stede couldn’t avoid it if he tried. Eventually Stede starts catching some of the lyrics and his voice becomes part of the whirling blurring energy as he shout-sings back to Ed.
Stede doesn’t know how long the song continues, a lifetime or maybe a minute, but eventually he gets his arm around Ed’s waist, finally gets to feel that stretch of stomach that’s been exposed this whole time. It’s tacky with sweat, and it brings him gently back into reality, back into existence.
The song ends and they’re both panting, almost breathless. Stede’s arm is still around Ed’s waist and Ed’s hands have come to rest on Stede’s chest. There’s a moment of silence before the song repeats where they’re just existing in each other’s space. Ed's eyes are sparkling, and Stede feels like his might be sparkling too. And isn’t that something.