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Stede had only moved into his new apartment a few days ago and still hadn’t found his feet. He hadn’t thought the life of impolite indifference he shared with his father could ever be something he would miss, but Stede underestimated just how quiet truly being alone was.
It was worth it; God, it was worth it—but it was more of an adjustment than he had anticipated.
He quit his finance program for one in history, came out to his dad, and either moved out or been kicked out. Stede was still a little iffy on the last bit due to all the screaming they were both doing. Regardless of who said it first, Stede was more than happy to escape the sprawling, sterile manor with his pre-packed belongings and the trust fund set up for him by his mother and maternal grandparents.
Without it, Stede would have been stuck living the life his father had set out for him. As it was, Stede was awake far too late for his own good, standing in his kitchen and feeling like the only person on earth. He’d barely gotten a single glimpse of the other tenants who lived on his floor, and the glance he had gotten had made Stede duck back into his apartment.
Stede assumed they were coming back from working out or doing something strenuous, with bicycle shorts underneath a pair of sporty-looking gym shorts and and loose tank, dark hair in a high bun, and tawny skin pleasantly glistening with perspiration. Stede, however, was in ratty, paint-stained running shorts and an equal paint-flecked tee with the Loch Ness monster on it, face redder than a tomato from exertion and heat, his curls an absolute sweaty nightmare.
If Stede was forced to talk to his neighbors, especially ones so devastatingly attractive, it had to be under more auspicious circumstances. He could barely manage a conversation with someone who didn’t share his (admittedly niche) interests, so he’d take all the help he could get.
So, hiding. It was a thing he did. Had his entire life, if he was being honest, but given his new life and new apartment and new normal, well. It was very isolating.
He’d thought about taking a bath to combat the chill he felt, unsure if it was from the weather or a side effect of his new place not having an ounce of warmth to it yet, but his tub wouldn’t hold water, and had to settle for a shower instead. He thought he might curl up in bed to read for a bit but couldn’t seem to find a single blanket other than the thin quilt he yanked from his bed on the way out of his father’s house—until Stede remembered those boxes were still in the storage unit he’d rented, too tired to make another trip to get them.
Which was why he was standing in his kitchen alone, at half past one in the morning, his entire life still in boxes except for the handful of kitchen tools he’d needed to make chocolate chip cookies. Why chocolate chip cookies? Because it was the only recipe he knew by heart, and his internet wouldn’t be on for another few days. The signal without wifi was shit, and Stede had already blown through the videos he’d downloaded to his tablet in the school library, so baking it was.
Stede hadn’t found his Bluetooth speaker in his boxes yet either, so he was forced to play music through the tinny speakers on his phone, made worse by the way the sound echoed through his sparse apartment. He lowered it as much as possible, not wanting to be that neighbor, waiting for the oven to preheat and resisting the urge to simply eat the cookie dough from the bowl.
He closed his eyes, removing the temptation from view, and hummed along to Lizzy McAlpine’s Ceilings as he enjoyed the heat slowly radiating outward from the oven. At least he was, until, even with his eyes closed, Stede could tell the power went out. The sudden sound of everything shutting down at once was jarring, and opening his eyes to pitch blackness was equally so.
He felt across the countertop for his phone and hit the flashlight, aiming it toward the small balcony. It was raining, as it had been on and off all night, but it was nothing more than a drizzle. But, then again, this was a new place, and maybe this was a common occurrence. Testy power lines, perhaps? Was that a thing?
Regardless of whether it was a thing or not, Stede didn’t know where candles or a flashlight might be—assuming they were anywhere in his boxes at all, as Stede was realizing that, despite packing his things up for weeks, he’d done an absolute shit job of it. Nothing made sense or was labeled in any helpful way, and the only reason he had the things he did was because he bought them the day he moved out.
“Fuck,” Stede whispered.
His apartment looked even more bleak illuminated by nothing but a flashlight, and the melancholy music still playing through his phone didn’t help. Stede unlocked his phone to pause his music, or maybe just change it, when there was a hesitant knock on his door.
“Shit!” Stede hissed, startled, juggling his phone between his hands before it clattered to the floor.
He winced at the impact, chasing after it as he scurried to the door on socked feet. Stede held his phone to his chest and looked out the peephole only to see a vague silhouette of a figure thanks to the emergency lights and their pitiful wattage.
What did you think you were going to see? he asked himself sourly.
Stede contemplated ignoring it, but the thought that it might be someone who needed help compelled him to open the door—only a crack, mind you, but he still opened it.
“H-hello?” he said into the darkness.
He could hear the sound of someone shifting before their throat cleared. “Hi. Sorry, this is a lot weirder now that I’m actually talking to you,” they apologized, chuckling. “I just—I’m your neighbor?”
Oh no.
“I noticed you moving in and, uh, I heard your music. And I thought, you know, that you might not have any blankets? Or candles?”
Oh no. He was nice.
Stede hesitantly opened the door to find it was indeed in very handsome neighbor. His very handsome neighbor in another pair of joggers and a robe with no top. Holding an armful of blankets and two taper candles along with a flashlight.
“That’s very thoughtful,” Stede replied.
He was painfully grateful the darkness concealed the depressing wasteland of boxes behind him, though the emergency lights were enough to illuminate Stede’s Big Foot tube socks and yet another pair of running shorts that contrasted sharply with the artsy sweater he’d stolen from Mary.
His neighbor shrugged, almost like he was embarrassed. “Like I said, I heard your music so I figured you were up. I know it took me stupid long to get all my shit unpacked when I moved, so I assumed it might be the same. Sorry if I made an ass out of both of us with that one.”
Stede’s chuckled. “No, you assumed right.” He swung the door open with a sigh. “Only stuff I’ve unpacked is as I searched for baking supplies.”
“Baking? Is that what you’re doing up so late?” his neighbor asked with a smile.
“Don’t get too excited; the power went out before I could put them in the oven,” Stede replied dryly. “I wish that I had; I’d love to be able to offer you some for your kindness.”
“Some of what?” his neighbor asked.
Stede shook his head. “Sorry, I just realized I didn’t say,” he apologized, tongue-tied and blushing. “Chocolate chip cookies. It’s the only thing I know how to make by heart, and it’s too frustrating trying to deal with finding the right place to stand in the apartment to get enough signal to Google another.”
“Ugh, I hate that. You can totally bum off mine 'til yours is on,” his neighbor offered. “I know it’s a fucking slog trying to get signal; must be the roof or something.”
Stede didn’t know how to reply to such generosity. He always struggled to accept help when it was offered and forgot about asking for it, but it always left him feeling wrongfooted. His therapist would probably say it was because he was used to expecting some kind of strings to be attached to any offers thanks to his father, but that was a conversation for that coming Thursday morning.
“Um, I feel like I should invite you in?” Stede said, gesturing into his apartment.
His neighbor laughed and, to Stede’s surprise, took him up on his offer. Stede blinked at the empty hallway in shock before carefully shutting his door and turning to see his neighbor setting his flashlight upright on the counter, directing the light toward the ceiling.
He cleared his throat. “My name is Stede.”
His neighbor spun to face him, amusement and disbelief on his face, and Stede felt his stomach fall. His name was the first thing people made fun of him for, and Stede had come to hate introductions for that exact reason.
“Christ, how rude am I?” his neighbor asked, laughing as he extended his hand. “Practically forced an invitation of you without even introducing myself.”
“Oh, no, you didn—”
“I’m Ed,” he said, interrupting Stede’s dismissal of his apology. “Edward Teach.”
Stede shook Ed’s hand with his own look of disbelief. “Stede Bonnet.”
“Bonnet? Love that,” Ed gushed, shaking his hand heartily. “Kind of adorable. Like a cute little hat?”
Three sentences into the interaction and Stede was already out of his depth. Stede opened his mouth to reply, not certain what he was going to say when his brain was a useless tangle of confused attraction and gratitude, only for an unexpected chill to zing up his spine.
Ed looked at him in concern and untangled the blanket folded over his arm. “You’re shivering,” he said. He draped the plaid fleece around his shoulders. “It’s cold in here, mate. I dunno if you just need to fill the place up or get some rugs. Maybe you hit the AC jackpot, but it kinda sucks right now.”
“I was wondering if it was actually cold or if it was just me,” Stede admitted. “Nice to know I’m not losing my mind. Well. Not in that regard.”
Ed laughed at his feeble joke, barely looking like he felt the chill at all despite having mentioned it. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his robe, pecs flexing distractingly as he gestured about with his hands still tucked inside his pockets.
“I know you just invited me in, but do you wanna chill at my place for a bit?” Ed asked. he took a hand out of his robe pocket to rub the back of his neck sheepishly. “It doesn’t have power either, but it’s warmer. And I have a battery-powered kettle, so I can make us tea.”
Stede blinked incredulously. Whether it was friendly or flirty, his interaction with his intimidatingly cool and handsome neighbor had already vastly exceeded Stede’s expectations. If he was smart, he would quit while he was ahead and bow out before he could ruin a good thing But Stede had always been a fool, and he had done an awful lot of rushing in lately.
Why stop now?
“I can bring the cookie dough?” Stede offered.
“Oh, fuck yes,” Ed groaned. He snatched up his flashlight but left the candles on Stede’s counter, winking when Stede noticed. “Just in case.”
Stede clutched the blanket around his shoulders a little closer and shuffled to grab the bowl of cookie dough. He clutched into this chest and followed Ed out of his own apartment and down the hall to Edward’s.
“I don’t have the excuse of just moving in for how messy my place is,” he explained, wincing.
Ed punched in the code on the lock (battery-powered, thank goodness) and let them both in. His apartment was warmer, and Stede was immediately hit with the scents of vanilla and lavender from the few candles Ed had lit.
(Stede would be mentioning that when he wasn’t imposing on Ed’s hospitality.)
Even in the dark, it felt homey in a way Stede had never experienced but longed for. His pulse jumped as Ed took him by the wrist and led him across the apartment, pressing him onto a plush loveseat before heading off to fiddle with his battery kettle and mugs.
“You like sugar?” Ed asked.
Stede clutched the bowl of cookie dough to his chest. “Honey, if you have it.”
“Mmm, always forget about honey,” Ed replied, siding across the floor and to the cabinet.
The rain picked up outside, drawing Stede’s attention. “Does the power go out like this very often?”
Ed’s sigh spoke volumes. “I love this place, but if there’s even the faintest amount of rain? Power’s down. Comes up pretty quickly once it stops, but it’s a pain in the ass.”
“I better put apartment-wide candle distribution and flashlight acquisition on the top of my list then,” Stede remarked.
“Or you could just come knock and chill in mine,” Ed offered. “I’m just here rattling around all by myself and watching way too much YouTube most nights. Be nice to have the company.”
Stede swallowed nervously, looking away from the storm and toward the kitchen, surprised to see Ed joining him in the living room already. Ed shrugged at his obvious surprise. “No reason to wait in the kitchen if it’s not plugged in.”
“Suppose not,” Stede said, shrugging. “Might be a good idea for me to invest in some battery-powered appliances myself. Wouldn’t want to impose as often as it seems I might be compelled to.”
Ed flopped next to him and reached for another blanket as he crossed his legs. “Not imposing. ‘Specially if you have cookie dough,” he said, raising his hand to fan out two spoons.
Stede’s breath caught when Ed scooted closer to get at the cookie dough, scooping up a spoonful to pop in his mouth. He hummed in delight at the taste and rolled side to side in enjoyment, He left the spoon in his mouth as he fumbled around between the couch cushion for something and emerged with a tablet.
“You like romcoms?” Ed asked, scrolling through his tablet. “Got a fuckload on here from when my friend went through a breakup.”
“Yeah,” Stede replied. It didn’t escape him that their current situation was very much something out of a cheesy movie Stede would moon over for days if he’d watched it. “I love ‘em.”
Ed grinned. “Me too.”