One

The first time Edward Teach sees Stede Bonnet is at the Red Flag. 

"Hey Iz?" Edward says as they reach the bar. "Did you see that guy?"

"What guy?" Izzy replies, barely paying Ed any heed. Instead, he’s scanning his eyes over the bar, probably trying to work out which of the bartenders will serve him first. "What do you want to drink?"

"The blond one," Ed says, leaning an elbow on the bar and turning back to face the group, craning to try to see the man again. "Sitting in the booth with Lucius and the others."

"No," Izzy says flatly. "What drink do you want?"

"You didn't see him?"

"No. I didn't. What do you want, Ed?" 

"Fuck," Ed says. "How could you not see him?"

Izzy sighs. "Drink, Ed?"

"He’s fucking gooooorgeous," Ed says dreamily.

"Oh for fucks sake." Izzy turns away and begins to yell at the closest bar worker. "Hey! Can I get two beers and two shots of something really strong please?" The bartender nods at him and starts working on their order.

Ed nudges Izzy's arm with his elbow, not taking his eyes off the booth. "Have a look now Iz. But be fucking subtle about it!"

"I'm getting the drinks."

"You can still look!" Ed says, and he manhandles Izzy by the shoulders until he's facing the booth.

Izzy gives a resigned sigh. "Which one?"

"The blond one."

"Next to Fang's boyfriend?"

"Lucius. Yeah. Fucking hell. He's so fucking hot, isn't he?" 

Izzy scowls. "That fancy looking ponce?" He turns back to the bar as the bartender sets the two beers down in front of him.

Ed frowns. "He's not a fucking ponce. Watch how you speak about the man I’m going home with tonight."

Izzy shakes his head despairingly. The bartender pours some gloopy-looking green shit into two shot glasses in front of him. "Fuck's that?" Izzy says.

"Something really strong," the bartender replies, and they slide the shots over next to the beers. 

"He's gotta be queer, right?" Ed says, more to himself than to Izzy. 

Izzy taps his card on the reader, picks up the two terrifying-looking green shots and forces one into Ed's hand. Ed takes it absentmindedly.

"Here," Izzy says. "Drink this. Might snap you out of it." Izzy downs his shot in one, and raises the back of his hand to his mouth as he tries not to instantly bring it back up again. "Fuck me," he says, sounding even more hoarse and higher pitched than usual. He bites back a cough. 

Ed, in the meantime, is still gazing over to the booth, seemingly unaware that he's holding a shot glass.

"Please don't make me spend the fucking evening watching you get tonsil-deep in some dickhead," Izzy groans. "And then watch you cry tomorrow when he won’t answer your texts. Again . I thought you’d sworn off men.” 

Ed turns to look at him and frowns. "What do you mean 'again ?' Fuck you. That was one time."

“It’s been at least three times that I know of.” Izzy picks up both beers and holds one out to Ed. Ed swaps his shot glass into his other hand and takes the beer. 

“Well, I was younger then. I’m older and wiser now.” 

Izzy sips his drink and shakes his head. “The last time it happened was…” Izzy counts on his fingers, “Seven months ago.” 

“Alright,” Ed says defensively. “Well, I’m seven months wiser.”

“Fuck me,” Izzy says. “Come on.”

Izzy leads the way back over to where Lucius’s and Fang’s friend groups are starting to get to know each other. 

Lucius slides out of the red pleather booth seat and comes over to Ed. 

“I’ve been saving a seat for you… Next to my friend Stede. I’ve just got this feeling that you and he will get on like a house on fire!” Lucius turns to indicate the empty seat he’d just left, but to Ed’s surprise Izzy’s slipped into it in his place . 

“Oh, hey,” Lucius calls to Izzy. “I was saving that seat for…”

“Babe!” Pete calls, sounding pretty urgent. 

“I’m coming!” He turns back to Ed. “Well, I was saving that seat for you, but it looks like…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Ed says with a smile that he hopes makes him seem much less bothered about it than he really is. He very much hopes the loud fizzing in his stomach isn’t audible to anyone other than himself. 

Of course he’d fucking love to sit next to Stede, but honestly, what would he be able to do other than stare at him and maybe babble a bit? Yeah. No. It’s definitely a good thing he isn’t going to be able to get that close to him. Izzy’s done him a favour. Probably. 

Ed claps Lucius on the shoulder. Lucius shrugs, then saunters off to join his boyfriend. Ed pulls out a chair and sits at a table that’s clearly been pulled over to the booth to make the space big enough for everyone.

He had been a little apprehensive when Fang said he’d arranged a night out so that his friends could meet his new boyfriend Lucius’s friends. Felt a bit too formal for Ed’s liking. But it seems to be going well, and the two groups are meshing easily. Within an hour it’s almost impossible to tell who’s from which group.

Ed does his best to keep up with the conversations around him, but it’s pretty fucking difficult when the most gorgeous, handsome man in the world is sitting a couple of seats away from him, in the seat next to the one Lucius had specifically saved for him . The more the night goes on, the more pissed off Ed starts to feel with Izzy. He keeps giving Ed smug looks, and a couple of times, Ed swears Izzy’s leaned forward to purposefully block Ed’s view of Stede. Treacherous little cockblock.

Ed wants to be sitting where Izzy is, so he can get a closer look at Stede’s eyes, and his hair, and his gorgeous face. He wonders what Stede smells like. He’s a fancy looking man, so it’s probably some really expensive cologne.

And yeah, he is going to sulk about it, actually. Ed should have been going home with that man tonight, and Izzy had sat between them just to be fucking petty. If Ed could think about anything other than how firm Stede’s pecs would feel under his hands, and how broad his shoulders are, he’d already be planning some kind of revenge. 

Ed can barely keep his eyes off him. He feels like a fucking teenage girl, all giddy and silly, every time Stede so much as glances in his direction. 

There is one tiny thing niggling at Ed, bothering him just a bit – apart from not being able to be closer to Stede. Stede has barely looked at Ed the whole night. He’s looked in his direction, and he has made brief eye-contact a couple of times in passing, but that’s it. 

Now, Ed’s not conceited, or big-headed, no matter how much he might sometimes play up to that idea. He’s genuinely not. No, really! It’s true! The bravado is just a mask to hide his insecurities, and fuck you if you don’t believe it. The point is, that he’s been told many times how good looking he is. Doesn’t even have to be told, he sees the way people look at him. He’s so used to people looking at him hungrily that it’s more noticeable when someone doesn’t do it these days. Especially someones as fucking gorgeous as Stede.

Maybe Ed’s accidentally sitting in a shadow, and Stede can’t see him properly. Maybe Izzy is making him feel so uncomfortable that he just doesn’t want to look in Ed’s direction for long. Still, there’ll surely be time to speak to Stede later. Yes, Ed had planned on leaving as soon as he possibly could, but plans can change, can’t they?

Well, fuck that shitty little rat bastard Israel Hands very much indeed actually, because when Ed comes back from the loo, Stede and some of the others are getting up to leave. The most beautiful man Ed has ever seen in his life is right there, and Israel fucking Hands had blocked him from even so much as exchanging pleasantries. Fucking dick.

“Hey,” Ed says, sidling up to Lucius after forlornly watching Stede leave. 

“Oh, hi Ed. Have you had a good night?” Lucius asks.

“Yeah. It’s been… Well. I wanted to ask you, actually… About Stede.”

The smile that takes over Lucius’s face looks almost smug. “About Stede? Ask away!”

“Well, erm,” Ed begins nervously. Why is he fucking nervous? It’s not like this Stede is the first bloke Ed’s ever fancied. Why does this feel so huge? Oh. Oh yeah. It’s because Stede is a fucking god, and Ed couldn’t read him at all, that’s why. A god Ed hasn’t actually spoken to yet thanks to Izzy’s meddling. “Is he, uh… into guys?”

“Yes, he’s into guys. I mean he was married, but he’s been divorced for…” Lucius says. “You know what? That’s his story to tell. But yes. He’s into guys.”

Ed nods, trying to be nonchalant. “So is he… like… single? Now?” 

“Yes,” Lucius says, his grin getting somehow wider. “He’s single.”

“Right,” Ed says. He rubs his stubble thoughtfully. “And erm… Do you… D’you think he might… I mean, d’you think he’s into… like… guys with long hair?” he asks.

“I think he very well could be. Maybe if they also wear a lot of leather?”

“Oh,” Ed says, trying to conceal his own smile. “Good to know.” 

“Look. I really shouldn’t say this because it’s none of my business. But I think he’s probably demisexual. I wouldn’t tell any old person that. But maybe it might be useful to you.”

Why the fuck are Ed’s cheeks burning so fucking hard? Why is he so fucking shaky? Why does he feel like everything changed the moment he walked through that door and saw Stede? Sure, gorgeous man and all that, but he’s met gorgeous men before. It’s probably just a little infatuation that will be gone by the morning and he’ll be able to get on with his life.

It is not gone by the next morning, and Ed cannot get on with his life. 

He rolls over in his bed with a groan. He’s hardly slept because his thoughts were oscillating between all the things he wanted to do to Stede, all the things he wanted Stede to do to him, and what painful methods of revenge he could exact on Izzy.

Fuck.

Two

The second time Edward sees Stede is at Lucius’s flat.

“Is… uh, is Stede coming?” Ed asks. He waited as long as he possibly could to bring it up after arriving at Lucius’s flat for an impromptu game night. Less than a minute, it had been. Fucking cool, Teach .

“Oh!” Lucius says. “Yes! He’s just… running late.”

Pete frowns at him. “I thought you said you weren’t going to… Ow!” Pete exclaims as Lucius appears to dig him in the ribs with his elbow. 

“He’s just running late,” Lucius says through gritted teeth, his eyes narrowed at Pete. “He’ll be here soon.” He smiles at Ed, grabs Pete by the wrist and drags him into the kitchen.

Ed takes a seat on the sofa between Roach and Olu and tries to make himself focus on the card game that Roach is starting up. It’s an old favourite that he hasn’t played in years, and with this bunch it’s definitely going to be fun. 

He feels really fucking nervous as he keeps glancing at the door waiting for Stede to arrive. He’s thankful at least that Izzy wasn’t free to join them tonight – maybe he’ll actually get to interact with Stede. He’s determined to act cool and not embarrass himself. 

The game begins and Ed’s off to a reasonably successful start, when Lucius and Pete come back out of the kitchen. 

“Roach? Could I borrow you for a sec? In the kitchen?”

Roach looks up from his cards ready to argue, but Lucius gives him such a stern look that he lays his cards on the table and obediently follows him.

Pete whispers something to Fang who’s sitting in an armchair, and Fang gives him a grin, then gets up and takes Roach’s empty seat on the sofa next to Ed. 

It’s been nearly fifteen minutes and there’s still no sign of Stede, and Ed’s feeling more and more on edge. He’s starting to lose all ability to focus on the card game and finds himself staring at the door for minutes at a time, willing it to open.

Just as Ed is about to play a card, the door buzzer goes off and he physically flinches as the coils of anticipation inside him spring free. He drops the card onto the floor, forgetting it instantly. He’s unable to breathe or hear anything for several moments as he watches Lucius open the door to Stede, arms laden with books, and usher him into the kitchen. 

Fuuuuuuck. He’s more gorgeous than Ed remembers! How is that even possible?

“Play your card, man,” Roach says, snapping Ed back to Earth. Roach is leaning on a beanbag on the opposite side of the table now. Ed huffs and picks up the card from the floor and lays it on the table.

“You can’t play a fucking two!” Roach says. 

“Shit,” Ed says, feeling like a fool for not being able to implement the game’s most basic rule. “Sorry. Hang on.” He splays his cards and slots the two back in before dragging out another and laying it down, hoping it’s a good one. He’s lost track of what’s been happening for several rounds. He breathes a sigh of relief when everyone else looks at their own cards in response. 

Ed’s barely clinging on to the card game and to his sanity as he waits for Stede to come out of the kitchen. Where will Stede sit? There’s a space on the other side of the room, but that won’t allow for much interaction with him. Ed is absolutely determined that he is going to speak to him tonight, get his number, and he’s going to try his damndest to leave here with him at the end of the night. But none of that is going to work if Stede’s on the other side of the (admittedly pretty small) room. 

The kitchen door opens, and Ed thinks someone must have been listening to his silent prayers, as Fang gets off the sofa and Stede takes his place. Next to Ed! He’s right fucking next to him! 

Oh fuck! Breathe, man! 

He’s even more captivating up close, and as he smiles to greet Ed, Ed finds his eyes drawn to the fucking dimple in his cheek, then to his eyes. Fuck. He was expecting brown eyes, and they are brown, but they’re also not. There’s green in there too. Maybe even a hint of blue. Ed blinks and looks again, but he just can’t pin it down. They seem to be all the colours all at once, but they change with every subtle movement. What the actual fuck?

They start to chat. Small talk at first, but then Ed finds how easy it is to talk to him. About actual stuff. Not the weather, or work, or any of that boring shit. But about stuff that’s interesting. It’s a meandering, aimless conversation that constantly refuels itself. Just as Ed thinks they’ve got everything they can out of one subject, it leads effortlessly into a new topic. Like a perpetual motion toy that just keeps going.

Stede has been enthusiastically asking about Ed’s tattoos for several minutes now. Ed’s very used to this line of questioning. It’s a sure-fire way for people to flirt with him. They get to tell him they’re looking at his body, he gets to show them other parts of his body, and usually it escalates to them touching his body. 

But it’s different with Stede. He’s interested in the actual tattoos, and the reasons Ed chose each one. Which is surprisingly nice, but also a little disconcerting. Ed’s not as in control of the conversation or situation as he might like to be. He knows very well how to get from A - seeing a person who takes his fancy, to B - meeting both of their sexual needs. Except it’s not working like that here. And to be honest, he thinks he’s enjoying this conversation so much, he doesn’t really want it to. Not just yet, anyway.

Usually, when he’s asked about his tattoos, Ed rolls out his filtered versions of why he made the choices he did, to make sure he sounds cool enough. With Stede, though? He doesn’t feel the need to do that. 

“I got her because…” Ed begins, running a finger over his mermaid tattoo. “Well, because I just really fucking like mermaids. I uh… I actually spent a lot of time as a kid wanting to be one. That’s not something I usually admit to actually.”

“Oh!” Stede says, smiling widely. “That’s wonderful! I love mermaids too! Imagine being so free like that, able to come and go wherever you pleased.”

“Shit,” Ed says, basking in the reverence on Stede’s face. “Yeah. That’s it! You get it!”

“Yeah, I do,” Stede replies. “I actually used to love swimming as if I was a mermaid when I was small.”

“Oh my god, me too!”

They laugh together, sharing mermaid memories for a few minutes before the conversation wanders back to tattoos.

“Do you have any?” Ed asks.

“Oh, no,” Stede says dismissively. “I’m not cool enough for that.”

“Ah, come on. If anything, you’re too fucking cool.” 

Stede shakes his head. “Actually, I did almost get one. But I changed my mind at the last minute.”

“Why did you change your mind?” Ed asks, intrigued.

Stede sinks back a little into the sofa cushions, almost like he’s trying to let it suck him in, hide him. “Well, the uh… artist said my idea was…” He trails off, looking at his hands. 

Ed leans towards Stede and gently brushes the back of his hand against Stede’s forearm. He wants to comfort him, and that slight contact seems to have done the trick. Stede looks over at Ed and smiles fondly. 

“What was your idea?” Ed asks gently. 

Stede shifts in his seat before answering. “I wanted… a cutlery tray.”
“Oh,” Ed says, because that was not anywhere on his list of guesses. “I didn’t expect you to say that!” 

Stede presses his lips together. “That’s a lot kinder than what the artist said. It’s a stupid idea, I know.”

“Hey, I never said it was stupid,” Ed says. He presses the back of his hand into Stede’s arm, and feels a buzz when Stede smiles down at his hand. “Tell me why you chose that?”

“Oh. Well. I’ve just always had this idea that the world is… Well, it’s a cutlery drawer. And all the people are the cutlery. Most of them fit easily into their designated compartments. They look like the other cutlery in their compartments. They know where they belong. They know what to do. They know what their function is. They don’t question things because they just know where they’re meant to be and what they’re supposed to do. And I…” Stede’s voice quietens. “Well, I suppose I’ve always felt like a snail fork.” He looks up at Ed expectantly.

“A snail fork,” Ed repeats. “I don’t think I know what that looks like.”

“Exactly. It’s a fancy, antiquated piece of cutlery that doesn’t look like any of the others in the drawer. It doesn’t belong. You can’t put it in with the normal forks because it can’t carry out the same function as them. It doesn’t belong with the knives, or the spoons, or the teaspoons. Its function is so very specific that it’s neither use nor ornament for probably most of its life. And maybe it can try to fit in in one of the compartments, pretend to be a normal fork, and it might do alright for a while. But it can’t hide for long. The others will find it out, and it’ll be back outside the drawer with nowhere to go.”

“Fuuuuck…” Ed says. He stares at Stede in silence for a moment. He’s desperately trying to organise his thoughts into something coherent.

Stede sinks further back into the sofa and says, “That probably makes no sense to you, Ed, I…” 

“No! Mate! It makes absolute sense to me. Fuck, man, it really does. I totally get it. And… I think maybe I’m a snail fork too. Or, maybe not a snail fork. But maybe, like… sugar tongs? You know those little tongs just for putting sugar lumps into tea that no one has any use for anymore? I think that’s me.”

Stede’s smile warms almost instantly. “I still use sugar tongs, Ed.” 

Ed feels a tingling warmth spread through him. 

“Well,” Ed says. “I say fuck those other guys in their boring old compartments. We should make our own compartment with all the fancy fucking special cutlery that’s too cool for everyone else!”
Stede sits forward, drawing himself out of the sofa cushion that he was hiding in. “Do you really think that?” he says hopefully. 

“Yes!” Ed replies emphatically. “You and me, we’re in the new cool section of the cutlery tray. Fuck everyone else and their expectations and… and their limitations . In our section, you can be yourself. You can be whoever you want to be. That’s where you belong. In the cool section. And for what it’s worth, that tattoo artist sounds like a dick.”

Ed’s pretty sure he can see tears in Stede’s eyes, and he can feel them starting to prick in his own. How the fuck had he become so passionate about the idea of the world being like a cutlery drawer?! It makes so much sense to him, and he feels like he really understands Stede, and that maybe Stede understands him too. It’s a very intense, lovely feeling, but it sits uncomfortably in Ed’s stomach. He’s just not used to seeing and being seen by another person.

They are broken out of their new cutlery tray universe by a loud groaning sound from the rest of the group as Pete raises his arms triumphantly and cheers. Ed had totally forgotten there were other people in the room, let alone that there was still a game going on. 

The groaning turns to muttering, and Ed turns back to Stede who is still smiling softly. 

“Tell me about that one,” he says, pointing to the tattoo of a raven on Ed’s upper arm.

Ed is a little pissed off about having to leave when Roach wants to go. But he has met two of his three objectives. He’d talked to Stede (a fucking lot, and it was so much fun), and he’s got Stede’s number. He isn’t going home with him because that hadn’t come up. To tell the truth, Ed’s still having a hard time trying to gauge whether Stede is interested. He certainly seems like he’s interested in Ed as a person, which, what the fuck? But he hasn’t given any of the signs he might be interested in Ed physically. 

When he gets home, he googles demisexuality. He doesn’t click on any of the results, because all he can focus on are the words ‘emotional connection’ leaping out at him from the results page. He closes the app quickly. 

Shit. Those two words are fucking terrifying. He doesn’t want an emotional connection with anyone. He just wants intercourse. Orgasms. The good shit. He doesn’t need emotion. Or connection. Doesn’t want that. Never has. 

Except… The thought of his and Stede’s own little compartment in the cutlery drawer is… 

It wouldn’t be just for the two of them, though. It’s for any cutlery that doesn’t belong. It wouldn’t be a comfortable little home just for…

Ed opens Google again and types ‘what colour are his eyes brown green blue’ and hits search before those two words can torment him any further. The top result lists the most common eye colours: brown, green, blue, hazel.

He googles hazel eyes and clicks on images. And that’s it! Stede has hazel eyes! And if Ed had kind of always assumed that when people said hazel eyes they were just finding a more poetic way to say brown, then whatever. He doesn’t look into people’s eyes very often, okay? He doesn’t even think he knows the eye colours of his friends. He just doesn’t look. It’s not weird that it had been one of the first details he’d noticed about Stede. 

Emotional connection.

Fuck.

Three

The third time Ed sees Stede is at the museum.

Ed is having a fucking great time! He’d been excited about the museum trip with Stede and his kids since Lucius had pushed Stede into inviting Ed to join them. Admittedly, he’d been a little nervous about meeting the kids, but despite a little shyness from Louis at first, which Stede had rightfully predicted he would get over pretty soon, it couldn’t have gone better. Alma and Louis have really taken to Ed, and they’ve spent most of the visit so far dragging Ed by the hand to show him their favourite exhibits. 

“Hey, Louis!” Ed calls excitedly, holding onto the three brass rubbings he’d collected from the Bonnets and added to his own. “I found you!” He’s animatedly gesturing at a tiny football game diorama, and Louis giggles as he squints to look inside. It’s part of the Flea Circus exhibit, and there are two teams of fleas in miniature football strips pinned onto the field.

“That one there, look,” Ed says. “The one that’s fallen over!”

“Oi!” Louis says through his laugh, putting his hands on his hips and stamping his little foot, glaring at Ed. “That’s you, you mean!”

“Nah,” Ed says. “That one’s me.” He points at the flea that has the ball. It’s frozen still, pinned into the diorama like all the others, but it looks like it’s about to shoot and score. Louis peers down.

“No! That’s me!” he says, shoving Ed aside a little so he can point to the flea with the ball. “You’re the one what’s fallen over!”

Ed kneels to bring himself to the same level as Louis and nudges him gently with his elbow. “No, I’m the one with the ball!” 

“Actually,” Louis says, a mischievous look in his eyes. His gaze roves intently over the scene, searching for something that takes his interest. “That one’s you.” 

Ed gives a mock gasp of offence and clutches his heart. “In the crowd? Not even on the field of play?”

“Hah!” Louis laughs, and he bounces on the balls of his feet in response to Ed’s dramatic response. 

“How could you, Lou? I thought we were friends!” 

Louis laughs again. “Oh! Actually, that’s not you.”

“Oh, phew,” Ed says, letting his body relax. 

Louis snickers. “You’re not even there because you lost your ticket and can’t get in!” He guffaws loudly in triumph, and Ed can’t help but laugh along with him. 

“Shi…ooot, kid,” Ed says. “How’d you know me so well already?”

“Oh, you found the fleas!” comes Stede’s voice behind them as he catches up to them. Ed looks up at him with tears in his eyes from laughing so much. He can’t quite read the expression on Stede’s face as he looks down amusedly at Ed and Louis, but it definitely looks like there’s a little bit of pride in there. 

“Louis! Come and look at this!” calls Alma, and Louis runs off to meet her. Ed gets to his feet with a small groan and claps Stede on the elbow. 

“You having fun?” Stede asks fondly.

“Fu…” Ed’s eyes dart to where the kids are giggling as they look through various microscopes lined up along a bench. “Fu... dge , Stede. Your kids are so cute!”

This time, Stede’s expression is almost bursting with pride as he looks over at them. “I suppose they are.” 

“They’re just like you,” Ed adds, his voice softer now. 

“Oh!” Stede replies. “I don’t know that that’s a good thing. I mean, I suppose when you have kids you always know that they’re going to…”

“Hey, Stede,” Ed says, placing a grounding hand on Stede’s forearm. “It’s a great thing. Trust me.” 

Stede smiles shyly, and his cheeks redden, and Ed watches him closely as he averts his eyes from Ed and returns to looking at the kids. 

Ed fucking loves kids. Or he likes spending time with them, at least, not that he often gets the chance. He likes how free it makes him feel when he can think about the world through a child's eyes. Makes him a little sad sometimes that he didn't get to be a child for as long as he should have done. 

He knows kids are not all sunshine and roses, and that these two are on their best behaviour out in public and meeting a new person, but he’s gonna make the most of it while it lasts.

He's wondered a lot of times whether he would have wanted to be a dad himself if his life had provided the opportunity, and he's pretty sure the answer is no. He's never been completely sure he wouldn't end up being like his own dad. Not the violent part of him, Ed knows for sure he could never behave like that towards any child. But he's always worried that he might not have liked a child of his own. You don't get to meet the kid first to see what you think. What if your kid’s an arsehole? You can’t change your mind once they’re in the world.

It had been pretty clear to Ed that his dad didn't like him, and there wasn't anything he could ever do to change it, no matter how much he tried. There was just something inherent in Ed that made him unlikeable. Not lovable. His dad made no attempt to hide it.

Ed's sure, even if he tried to hide it, that a kid would be able to pick up on their dad not liking them. The fear of that happening had pushed all ideas of fatherhood right to the back of Ed’s mind.

Ed’s thoughts are interrupted by Alma squealing, “Oh! This one’s a pirate! Ed, come and see!”

Ed gives Stede’s arm a final squeeze, and they both go over to the kids. 

On each of the microscope slides is a flea wearing a different elaborate costume, with a close-up photo of each of the fleas in all their tiny finery on the wall behind the bench. How the fuck anyone had the patience to make something like this was beyond Ed. The question of why briefly fluttered through his mind, but he dismissed it almost instantly. Because it’s fucking cool, is why.

“Look at this one,” Alma exclaims loudly, her eyes practically glued to the eyepiece of a microscope. “In the orange dress! Orange is my favourite colour!” She pulls back from the eyepiece and gestures to Ed to come over. Ed scans over the photos, a little overwhelmed with the choice of which to take a better look at first.

“What’s your favourite colour, Ed?” Alma asks.

“Purple. But I like that flea in the fancy red suit with all the gold bits on. Stede, come and look.” 

“Wow,” Stede breathes. “The detail in their clothing is amazing!”

“Actually, I think my favourite colour might be purple,” Alma says, ostensibly looking at the photo of the flea in the pirate outfit, but casually side-eyeing Ed as she speaks. 

“Cool,” Ed says. “What about you, Lou? What's your favourite colour?”

Louis has been quiet for a few minutes, and is now repeatedly pressing a yellow button that makes a little carousel with fleas pinned to the horses turn and play a jaunty tune.

“Purple,” Louis replies, looking up at Ed and then back to the carousel.

“I thought it was green,” Stede says.

“I changed my mind,” Louis says.

“Okay,” Stede says with a smirk, looking over at Ed.

“You're copying me,” Alma says in an accusatory tone. “Dad, tell Louis that’s…”

“You’re the copier, not me!” Louis says, coming over to join the rest of the group.

“No, you copied me , I said my favourite colour is purple and you…”

“You copied Ed, you smelly poo-poo head!”

“Hey!” Stede says firmly. “We do not call each other names!”

Alma’s frown deepens and she folds her arms in a huff. Louis is about to say something else when Stede glares at him.

“I'm sure Ed doesn't want to see you behave like this,” Stede says, and Louis takes a look at Ed and immediately backs down. “It's okay for anyone to change their mind about their favourite colour. And actually, I think it's lovely that all three of you have the same favourite now.”

The two kids look up at Ed and he smiles down at them. And that's the end of it. They revert back to their curious little selves and turn back to the exhibits.

Fuck. Stede handled that so well. Ed is extremely impressed. He feels a pang of guilt as he tucks Stede’s tone of voice as he de-escalated the situation deep into his mind to revisit at a later date. 

Fucks sake. Keep it together, man.

After a few more minutes, they move on to the next area - a selection of iron-age exhibits found in a local field.

“So, what's your favourite colour, Stede?” Ed asks with a grin. “Purple?”

“No,” Stede replies with a small smile. Then he looks a little sheepish. “I don't have one. Oh look,” he adds, clearly trying to change the subject. Huh.

“Course you fu…flipping do. Everyone has a favourite colour. You’re always wearing different colours. Go on.” Ed nudges Stede gently in the ribs. “Tell me.”

“Blue then,” Stede says, steadfastly staring down at a barely recognisable iron axe head. 

Ed stares at him, but Stede doesn’t look back. His cheeks seem to redden again. Weird. He’s a terrible liar. But why is he lying about this ? Ed racks his brain to think of a reason to lie about your favourite fucking colour but he comes up blank. 

Instead of saying anything, he continues to stare hard at Stede, waiting to see what he’ll do.

Stede glances up at Ed after an unquantifiable number of seconds, then drops his gaze quickly when their eyes meet. He lets out a defeated sigh and his shoulders droop.

“You’ll think I’m weird,” Stede says quietly.

Ed takes a step closer to him, wanting to reassure him. Seeing Stede deflate like this makes Ed’s insides feel all spiky. He doesn’t like it. “Why would I think you’re weird?” Ed asks gently.

“Everyone thinks I’m weird.” Stede’s still staring intently at the axe head, although Ed’s pretty sure he’s not really seeing it. 

Ed slips his hand over the back of Stede’s as it rests on the glass exhibit display. Stede looks at their hands, then up at Ed, his eyebrows raised. Fuck. He looks so vulnerable. Ed’s heart aches as he wonders what the hell Stede has been through that he’s this reluctant to say what his favourite colour is. 

“Please?” Ed says, giving his most reassuring smile. “I fucking love weird.”

Shit! Ed hadn’t meant to say it quite like that, but the earnestness on Stede’s face was doing something to him. Smashing through all his filters. Making him… feel things. 

“Oh,” Stede breathes. His lips quirk at the corners and Ed ramps up his own smile, trying to show Stede he’s safe with him. “Okay,” Stede continues. “Well, I really don’t have a favourite. And I do love strong colours. But the thing I love most about them is… the place where they meet. The juxtaposition of them. Seeing them next to each other. The tiny space where two colours together become so much more than the sum of their parts. For example, a deep teal is wonderful to look at. So vibrant, so full of life and possibilities. But when you place that next to a golden yellow, or… no, a Royal purple!” 

Ed watches Stede almost lose himself in the thought of those two colours next to each other, as if he’s filling up with… life .

“Yes! Royal purple, adventurous and fun, a little exciting. When you place those colours next to each other, that place where they meet is…” He trails off, giving a happy sigh as he gazes into the distance, temporarily living in the space between deep teal and Royal purple. 

With a small start, his smile begins to tighten and he comes back to the room. He looks nervously at Ed.

“So I suppose I kind of like that bit more than the actual colours themselves.” 

Ed doesn’t know what the fuck to say. He knows Stede is waiting for some kind of response to what he’s just let Ed into, but he doesn’t know how to give it. 

He steps back to look more carefully at Stede. He’s wearing a lavender… well. It’s like a suit, but it’s so much more casual than an actual suit that Ed hadn’t actually noticed Stede had turned up for a day out at a museum with his kids in a suit . It’s trousers and a jacket. Ed doesn’t know if this type of outfit has a name, or even if it’s intended to be worn as an outfit, or if Stede constructed it himself. Underneath the open jacket, Stede is wearing a peach shirt. Now, lavender and peach is certainly a colour combination Ed would never have considered. But it works so well on Stede that Ed hadn’t even blinked. Ed thinks if anyone else he knows attempted to wear that, they’d look like a sore thumb. But on Stede? Well. 

Ed looks more carefully at where Stede’s jacket overlays his shirt, and spends a moment considering the juxtaposition of the two colours. He tilts his head thoughtfully, and he kind of starts to maybe understand what Stede means. On their own, each colour is… nice, he supposes. Nothing special. But where they meet, there’s definitely a kind of… spark? A little frisson that seems to enhance or lift each of them. Each one makes the other better. 

Ed ends up flicking his eyes back and forth between the lavender and the peach, not able to decide which he likes best, instead settling on the exact point at which they meet, deciding that that is, indeed, the point he likes most. 

Ed’s mouth slides into a grin and he shakes his head in disbelief. “Oh my fucking god,” Ed says, almost reverently. “You’re a fucking lunatic!”

Ed does not miss the microexpression of deep hurt on Stede’s face, even as Stede quickly tries to cover it up with an air of inevitability, a feeling of I told you so.    

“And I fucking love it! You’re so fucking right, Stede,” Ed adds, still not quite able to tear his eyes away from where the two colours meet. He does manage it eventually though, and is very pleased when he sees Stede’s face light up. Ed can tell that this is definitely a genuine expression. He’s not faking this one. “You’re so fu… flipping right mate!”

Stede doesn’t say anything for the next few minutes, just walks on through the exhibits with that silly grin on his face. Ed sneaks glances at him, and his clothes, and they catch gazes occasionally, both having to look away before their smiles overflow and become laughter. Ed’s pretty sure he can see that pride again beneath the blush on Stede’s cheeks.

Ed is still grinning to himself a few hours later as he lets himself into his house, his four brass rubbings clutched carefully in one hand. He’s been missing the noise and laughter of his day with the Bonnets since he said goodbye to them. He didn’t want it to end. 

He dumps his keys on the coffee table in the living room and holds up the brass rubbings, wondering where he can display them. He considers pinning them to the fridge and almost runs into the kitchen, but vetoes that idea when it’s clear that it’s not quite a big enough surface.

He rummages through the drawer of random shit (who’s he kidding, they’re all full of random shit. This one is just a bit more random than the others) till he finds a ball of slightly dirty looking Blu Tack, and he takes the stairs three at a time up to his bedroom, paper fluttering as he goes. 

He shoves a heap of clothes out of the way so he can reach the wall there, takes four chunks of Blu Tack, and sticks Stede’s picture (an ox) to the wall. Then he repeats the process and sticks Alma’s handcart next to it, then Louis’s chapel next to that. He puts his own picture on the end and stands back. 

He sighs with displeasure. Things definitely do look better in threes. So he takes the fourth picture down, and sticks it underneath Alma’s. Yeah, that’s better. 

Ed stands back, admiring his new wall art. He snaps a photo of it on his phone and sends it to Stede, with the caption Three Bonnets and One Teach. He hears Stede’s voice saying ‘Three Bonnets and One Teach’ over and over in his mind.  

He lays on his bed and tries to ground himself. There are so many feelings rattling about inside him and he doesn’t know how to manage them. He hasn’t felt this… good in… well. Ages. Years. Maybe ever. 

This is not how Ed had imagined things would go with Stede when he first saw him in The Red Flag. Not how he’d imagined things going with anyone if he’s honest. Not really how things ever have gone. 

However much Ed knows he wants to do things differently in his life, he pretty much always ends up repeating the same old patterns, even though he knows they’re not always good for him. 

He’d thought he’d get talking to Stede, take him home, they’d have sex and it would be fucking amazing, they’d see each other a few more times, and then it would fizzle out. The uszhe. He was surprised that  Stede didn’t seem to be interested in that. 

Sure, maybe that sounds conceited to anyone else, but Ed has never considered himself to be particularly conceited. At least, he hadn’t thought that until now. It’s just the way things have always gone. The people he’s been interested in sleeping with have pretty much always reciprocated, so it’s just uncharted territory to meet someone he’s so into and it not be mutual. He’s just not sure what to do about it.

And he never for a second expected to have all these… feelings . Feelings about himself, nice ones and not so nice ones. Feelings about kids and his own shitty childhood. Feelings about Stede.

He glances up at his new art installation, then sits up as he has a realisation. Stede used a teal crayon for his rubbing. Ed had used a purple one. Shit.

Ed climbs off the bed and pulls his picture down and carefully places it next to Stede’s ox. Ed’s Royal purple princess and Stede’s deep teal ox.

“...a deep teal is wonderful to look at. So vibrant, so full of life and possibilities. But when you place that next to a golden yellow, or… no, a Royal purple! Yes! Royal purple, adventurous and fun, a little exciting. When you place those colours next to each other, that place where they meet is…”

Fuuuuuck.

Four

The fourth time Ed sees Stede, Ed's not feeling well. 

Ed’s making his mid-morning… hot caffeine drink with too much sugar… Coffee!! That’s it. Coffee. He’s making that and trying not to think about his date – no, not a date, a… whatever you call a date when it’s with a friend – with Stede tomorrow when he drops his spoon. Clumsy fuck. He bends down to pick it up, and as he stands back up he feels a throbbing pain in his eye. He chucks the spoon into the sink and gets a new one out of the drawer. His hand is shaking slightly, but it’s fine. 

He spoons the coffee into the… the… the glass thing? With the filtery thing in it? He puts the coffee into that thing, but he misses and tips half of it onto the counter. 

“Fuck,” he mutters. As he steps to the sink, he screws his eyes up to block out the really bright sun coming in through the window. He drops the blind but it’s still too bright. 

This reminds him of when he gets a migraine actually. He hasn’t had one for a while. It can’t be that, though. His head isn’t hurting. Well, except the pain in his eye. He usually has trouble with his words too, and that… Oh. But he hasn’t been especially clumsy. That’s another one of his symptoms. Except when he dropped the spoon and then spilled… Ah. And then he notices that the edges of his vision have started to sparkle. Shit. Fuck. It’s a migraine.

Fuck fuck fuck! He’s got the not-date thing with Stede tomorrow! He can’t have a migraine now! If it’s a bad one, he’ll probably still be feeling shitty tomorrow. Fuck it.

Ed goes to his medicine box praying he still has some of that stuff for migraines. He can’t remember the name of it even when he isn’t having symptoms. Summer something. It’s a fucking godsend. When it works. 

He finds it and downs a pill. Takes a glass of water into the living room and closes the curtains to block out the sun. Settles down onto the sofa with a soft blanket and waits. Pulls out his phone a couple of times but the screen is too bright even on the lowest setting. Turns on the TV then immediately turns it off. 

“Alexa, play music,” he mumbles.

“Sure, here’s Spotify,” she replies, and she starts to play something that sounds like audio mud to Ed’s brain. Yuck.

“Alexa, stop.” 

 He sits on the sofa and waits for the familiar tingling in his brain that tells him the meds are working. Except it doesn’t come. He waits the prescribed half hour, feeling the pain in his eye worsening, and the nausea in his stomach keeps bubbling away. 

Fuck. It’s not working this time. 

He gingerly gets up and slowly paces to the kitchen. He grabs the Migraleve, checks in the box to find there aren’t many left, and the paracetamol. Refills his glass and takes it back to the living room. Takes as much of the Migraleve as the packet says, and settles in to try to sleep it off. He’s determined he’s going to see Stede tomorrow. 

Ed manages to get some sleep, but he’s woken up several times: first by the postman ringing his bell to leave a package for a neighbour, then a reminder he’d set on Alexa several days prior to remind him to put drain cleaner in his shower to combat all his hair in the plughole, and finally a cold caller wondering if he’d like his gutters cleaning. Oh, and then the neighbour for their package. Fucks sake.

By late evening, Ed’s head is less painful, but he’s still feeling nauseous and foggy-brained. He can barely think. He doesn’t have the energy to go upstairs so he fetches more water and spends the night on the sofa. 

The next morning, Ed wakes sluggishly and assesses himself. His head is only gently throbbing. His vision is better but still not perfect. His mind feels slow and woolly. His stomach is churning. He sits up and swings his legs over the edge of the sofa, almost tipping himself off. He picks up his phone and squints as he checks the time. He has several hours before he’s due to meet Stede, but he’d have to make a miraculous recovery to be able to manage to watch a movie at the cinema.

He has a drink, uses the toilet, and settles back into his blankets on the sofa. If he keeps his eyes squinted, he can just about manage to cope with looking at his phone. He scrolls on social media for a while, not able to take any of it in. 

Finally, he decides he needs to tell Stede he can’t go to the cinema with him. The thought of it makes his eyes prickle with tears. He would give just about anything for a hug from Stede right now. 

So, he calls Stede. And within no time at all, Stede’s there on his doorstep with a care package, and he gives Ed the hug he’d been so desperately in need of. Ed practically melts into his arms, and somehow doesn’t cry. 

Stede, the wonder that he is, cleans Ed’s kitchen, makes him food, gives him painkillers, runs him a bath, gives him a fucking head massage! And then, he plaits his hair into the coolest style Ed’s seen. What the actual fuck?

Then. Then! He lets Ed snuggle up with him and nap on him . Fuck the idea of sleeping with him (well, don’t fuck it completely, maybe just shelve it for now), Ed wants to fucking marry him. And oh, fuck. Ed wants to fucking marry him! But maybe that’s the migraine talking. Maybe he’s just so fucking grateful to be looked after like this for the first time since he was a kid that he’d want to marry whoever was doing the looking after. Except no one else ever had done the looking after. So there was only Stede, wasn’t there? The only one he wanted to…

Now is really not the time to be having these thoughts! He can’t even tell which of his feet is which, why is he thinking about marriage?

Ed wakes sometime later in a puddle of his own drool on Stede’s chest. He gives Stede a replacement shirt, then hands his phone over.

“Will you order us some food?” he asks.

“Of course,” Stede says. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah. Better than I was. I think I’m hungry.”

“What sort of thing could you eat?”

“Uh, maybe like a burger? Really plain one.”

“Okay,” Stede says with a smile, and he starts tapping away. 

They sit on the sofa to eat, Ed slowly picking at his food. 

“How often do you get migraines?” Stede asks, his voice soft. 

“Haven’t had one for ages. Maybe since last year actually. You ever get them?”

“No. I do get this thing where my left eye starts to tear up, and then my left nostril goes all runny. My cheek goes red too, only on the left,” Stede says.

Ed gives a little giggle as he imagines it. 

“Sometimes I get pain in the left side of my head with it. The GP told me it’s a kind of migraine, but it doesn’t bother me that much.”

“That’s so fucking weird,” Ed says, and Stede gives a little shrug. 

“I did warn you I’m weird, Ed,” he says with a grin.

“And I told you I fucking love weird.” 

Yeah, so maybe that’s too much to say. Maybe it was a little too earnest. Maybe it’s a little too close to the truth. Emotional connection . But Ed’s brain is in no fit state to work any of that out right now. And it’s too late anyway, he’s said it. 

Ed watches the blush spread on Stede’s cheeks to his ears. And if saying too much makes Stede look like that, then so be it. Fuck the consequences. 

Just like the other times they’ve spent time together, it’s hard to say goodbye. It’s hard to let Stede go from the hug they share. It’s hard to watch him walk out the door, and then watch him get into his car and drive away from behind the living room curtain. It’s hard to watch this Knight in Shining Armour who came to rescue him disappear into the night.

Ed’s fucking exhausted. So he plods upstairs to bed and sleeps till morning. 

The next morning, Ed's feeling a lot better. Still a little delicate, but so much better. 

He smiles to himself, remembering everything Stede had done for him. He stands at the kitchen counter and pulls out his phone.

“This is Ke-Bloom florist, Kevin speaking. How can I help you today?” says a familiar, friendly voice when Ed’s call is picked up.

“Hey Fang. It’s Ed. How are you?”

“Ed! Hey bro. I'm good. You?”

“I am very well, thanks.” Ed’s pretty sure Fang will be able to hear the smile on his face. 

“Glad to hear it. Not like you to call me at work. Everything alright?”

“Everything is good. Actually, I wanted to order some flowers,” Ed says a little nervously, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. “A really big bouquet.”

“Cool. They for your mum?”

“No actually. Can you do mainly oranges and yellows, maybe? Something bright.” Ed's voice goes a little quieter when he next speaks. “Like sunshine.”

“Sure. Do you wanna pick it up?”

“Uh… No. Can you deliver it?”

“Of course. To you? Ivan might have time to…”

“Not to me,” Ed says. “They're for… they're for Stede.”

There's silence on the other end of the call for a beat longer than feels natural, and Ed feels the heat of bashfulness build in his neck and cheeks.

“For Stede? Oh, I didn't realise you two were…”

“It’s not… I mean he's just… It's just to say thank you.” Ed is certain Fang must be able to hear the quaver in his voice and he's grateful his old friend isn't pushing him too hard. He's also grateful he's not having to have this conversation with Izzy, and he quickly shoves that thought out of his mind.

“So, I don't actually know his address, but I was hoping you might be able to get that from Lucius? Thought it might be weird for me to ask him out of the blue.”

“I will ask Lucius and I'll let you know if there's any problem with that plan.”

There's quiet again for a moment, and Ed takes a deep breath to try to steady his nerves a bit more. He had considered using a different florist, but he didn't have Stede’s address so that wouldn't have worked.

“Don't think I've ever known you send flowers to anyone other than your mum before, bro,” Fang says lightly.

“No,” Ed replies. “Pretty sure I never have.”

He's racking his memory, but he honestly doesn't recall doing it, or even wanting to do it before. Or anyone buying him flowers for that matter. All of his previous relationships have been with people he's held at a distance, kept at arm's length, and they've done the same to him. Even the ones he thought could have developed into something more. But he’s never wanted that before. It's always been about casual fun, getting his needs met. 

Not that he's in a relationship with Stede. They're just friends. Ed knows that. It's just that this friendship feels like so much more than any romantic relationship Ed’s ever had. And Ed wants more of it. 

He absolutely fancies Stede something rotten, and if he thought Stede was interested, he would almost certainly have thrown himself at his feet. 

But actually, it’s really nice to do things differently for once. And if it never does develop into anything more for Stede, then Ed thinks he could live with that. If the few times they'd met were anything to go on, they seemed destined to become very good friends. 

“What do you want on the card?” Fang asks.

Ed grins to himself. “Can you put ‘Thank you for being my hero.’”

“Sure, man,” Fang says, the smile on his face audible. “Can I ask what he did to be your hero?”

“Oh, he came over yesterday when I had the tail end of a migraine and he took such good care of me.”

“Aww, that's so sweet!”

“Yeah,” Ed says dreamily. “Actually, can you change ‘hero’ to ‘thing?’”

“‘Thank you for being my thing?’”

“Yeah. Perfect.”

Later that day, Ed receives a text from Stede with a photo of a huge bunch of orange and yellow flowers and a message that says ‘Ed! I’m crying! Thank you so much!’

Emotional. Connection.

Fuck.

Five

The fifth time Ed sees Stede, it’s over Facetime.

Ed’s a little surprised when his phone starts to vibrate with a Facetime call from Stede. He grins and swipes to accept.

“Hello,” Ed says warmly, when Stede’s beautiful face bursts onto his screen.

“Ed!” Stede says gleefully. “How are you?”

“I am very good, mate,” Ed says, resisting the urge to add “now I’m talking to you.” “How are you?”

“I’m wonderful!” Stede beams into his camera. “Are you busy right now?”

“Um, nope, not really. Why?”

“Well, I hope you don’t think this is… I hope this is okay,” Stede says, clearly a little nervous. Ed’s intrigued. “Well, the kids are here, and we’re having our drawing lesson with Lucius and…”

“You have a drawing lesson with Lucius?” Ed asks, incredulous. 

“Yes! It’s more for the kids. I just take part to encourage them,” Stede says.

“That is cool,” Ed replies.  

“Lucius said that you are very good at drawing. So we all wondered whether you’d like to join us over Facetime for the rest of our lesson.”

At that moment, there’s an explosion of noise from the two smaller Bonnets behind Stede. 

Ed’s face lights up. “That sounds great, mate! I’d love to!”

“Oh! Well, that’s… That’s fantastic news!” 

“I have a call with my mum in about an hour, but until then, I’m all yours!”

Ed takes his phone up to his office where he has a small desk he uses for drawing. He props his phone up and watches his screen as the call transfers to Stede’s iPad and he finds a place to lean it.  

When it’s settled, Stede leans back into the frame.

“Three Bonnets and One Teach,” Stede says softly.

In the background, Lucius stands arms akimbo and mutters, “Don’t mind the one Spriggs, will you?”

The kids demand to see some of Ed’s work, so he digs out a sketch book with some of his portraits in it. He holds them up to the screen, and the kids compliment him and squabble about which of them will be as good as him one day.

Ed, though, is watching Stede’s wondrous expression as he stands behind Alma and Louis, trying to see the screen. The kids ooh and ahh, but Stede just stares. Gapes, almost. 

Eventually, Stede starts to ask questions about the sketches. Ed tells him that some are of his friends. He shows him one of Fang. Lucius’s eyes nearly pop out of his head. He shows him one of his mum. Ed skips a couple of pages of studies of Stede. He'd done them from memory so they're not perfect, but he's got the shape of Stede’s eyes and nose almost spot on. 

Maybe he'll show Stede one day, but that day isn't today. For now, he's keeping those drawings and all thoughts of Stede tightly locked inside his mind. 

Lucius explains that for today’s lesson they've been looking at perspective, and he'd asked the Bonnets to draw lighthouses. Alma and Louis show their drawings, but when it comes to Stede’s turn to show his it’s mysteriously gone missing. Ed can see he looks anxious, so he doesn't press. He thinks Stede looks grateful for that. 

Ed spends a few minutes drawing, and then holds up his own drawing of a lighthouse to the screen.

Stede emits yet another “wow” when he sees Ed’s lighthouse in the sea, wrapped up in long tentacles emerging from the deep. 

Ed doesn't have the clearest view of Stede, with the kids both looming in close to the iPad, but every chance he has, his gaze is drawn to Stede.

He’s wearing another colourful shirt, this one peach with navy buttons, and the contrast is wonderful. For a few moments he's captivated by the places where peach meets navy, and he can't help imagining Stede feeling similarly when he’d selected the shirt to wear. 

Stede’s lips are slack and ever so slightly parted whenever he watches Ed drawing, as if he's not quite conscious of himself, a little lost in whatever Ed’s doing. If Ed didn't know better (and he does know better), he’d think that maybe Stede might actually be into him after all. Another thought to be pushed way down into the depths and locked away. For now. 

Reluctantly, Ed has to wrap things up so he can call his mum. He ends with a promise to text Stede later so they can set up a date. Friend date. It’ll be a friend date. To make up for the trip to the cinema that they missed. 

“Hey mum,” Ed says when she answers his Facetime call. 

“Hello,” she says warmly. “How are you?”

“I’m good. How are you?”

Ed’s mum proceeds to tell him about the weather over in Aotearoa, news from the town, how the extended family is doing. A funny story about one of Ed’s cousins getting mistaken for a celebrity and ending up getting a free meal in a restaurant. 

“What’s your news?” Ed’s mum asks. 

“Oh, nothing much. The uszhe. Been working. Had a fucking migraine last week.”

“Oh no,” his mum says. “You haven’t had one for so long. What do you think brought it on?”

“I dunno. Don’t know that anything brings them on. They just happen.”

“I hope you took care of yourself,” Mum says.

She must be able to see the way Ed’s lips quirk despite him trying to control himself. “Yeah. I did.”

Her eyes go wide. “Ohh…” she says, with a knowing grin. “Tell me your real news.”

“I have told you!” Ed says, not trying too hard to hide his smile now. He knows she knows something’s going on, and he also knows she won’t stop asking until he tells her. 

“No you haven’t,” she says. “Come on, Eddie.”

“Fucks sake, mum,” Ed says bashfully. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing,” she says, almost scalding. “You’ve met someone, haven’t you?”

Ed sighs, but he’s still smiling. “Kind of. But it’s not what you think.” 

“Tell me then!”

“I’m getting to it! Yes, I met someone. He’s fucking wonderful, and I can’t… I can’t stop thinking about him.” He knows that he must be sounding really fucking sappy right now.

“Oh darling! I’m so happy for you!” his mum says.

“Yeah, it’s great. But… the thing is that he’s not into me like that.”

“Oh. He’s not into you?”

“I don’t think so.” 

“Oh. I’m confused. Explain for your old mum please.” 

Ed gives a laugh. “Well. He’s demisexual, which means that…”

“I know what demisexual means!”

“Do you?”

“Yes! I may be old but I’m not a dinosaur!” She narrows her eyes at the screen and shakes her head. “So what you mean is that he’s not into you yet ?”

Ed sits back. Huh. He hadn’t thought about it like that. Emotional connection. Stede needs an emotional connection with someone before he can feel sexually attracted to them. Ed had been so hung up on the emotional connection part that he’d forgotten that that was Stede’s prerequisite for sexual attraction. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. 

Maybe it will develop for Stede. Maybe it is developing. Maybe Stede might actually be into him after all. Fuuuuuck!

“Shit!” Ed says, more to himself than to his mum. He leans forward to focus on his screen again. “We’re like, really good friends. I think he’s probably the best friend I’ve ever had.”

His mum smiles proudly, but doesn’t speak, letting him have the space to continue.

“Oh, who am I kidding? He’s absolutely the best friend I’ve ever had. We just pass the time so well. I’m so happy to have that with him, I honestly am…”

“But you want more?” his mum suggests.

Ed chews on his lip for a moment. “Yeah,” he admits softly. “I do. But I get that he doesn’t, and that’s okay. I need to learn how to manage that.”

“He doesn’t yet ,” his mum says again.

Ed frowns. “I don’t think I want you to get my hopes up, mum.”

It’s quiet for a moment, and then Ed’s mum speaks. “Do you want my advice?”

“If I say no, are you still gonna give it to me?”

“Yes!” 

“Ha! Go on then.” Ed sits back to listen.  

“You’re always in such a rush. Always been the same. You see something you like, you rush straight in and then a few days later you’re bored of it and you move on. You never give yourself the time for things to develop. That’s how all your relationships have gone, isn’t it?”

“No!” Ed says indignantly. “Not all of them!”

“Name one that didn’t go like that.” His mum folds her arms smugly. 

Ed sits back on his chair. He lets out a huff. “Fine. That’s how they all go. So what do you suggest?”

“Slow down. Take a breath. Learn to just sit with things as they are right now. Don’t try to force anything. Give it time. You don’t have to reach your end goal right this moment. Maybe this guy won’t ever be into you in that way, but maybe he will. This is your chance to slow right down. Let your connection with him develop organically.” 

“An emotional connection,” Ed murmurs. “Pretty sure we already have one of those.”

“That’s wonderful!” his mum says happily. “And how does that feel?”

“It’s… It’s fucking amazing, mum. I don’t think I’ve ever had that with anyone else before.” 

His mum smiles proudly. “I’m so happy you’ve found that. Now, just let it be. Let it simmer. Not all relationships have to be about sex, you know.”

“Oh god,” Ed says. “Do we have to talk about sex, mum?” 

“Yes! Because you’ve always thought that’s the most important thing. And maybe it is important, but is it the most important thing?”

“It is one of the three most important things!” Ed insists. “Warmth, good food, orgasms.” 

His mum looks at him for a moment. “I think you’re missing a pretty big thing from your list.”

“What?”

“Alright. Do you promise not to hang up when I tell you?”

“Fine.”

“You’re missing love .” 

Ed flings his arms up into the air, like a child who’s been told he has to tidy his toys away before he can have ice cream. “Oh, mum! No!”

“I’m not gonna lecture you about this,” she says reassuringly. “But just think about how much better those things on your list might be if you shared them with someone you love.”

Ed rubs his hand over his eyes. “But… I’m not… It’s never…”

“Just because it hasn’t ever happened yet, doesn’t mean it won’t. But you have to let it. You have to slow down and let it happen. If you want it.”

Ed sits for a moment, hand still over his eyes. When he speaks again, it’s quiet, edged with anxiety. “I um… I think that might be happening actually.” 

“Slowing down?”

“No. I mean… The thing you said.” 

“Love?” She sounds hopeful.

Ed presses his lips together. “Mmm.” He feels his chin wobble and he takes a deep breath to try to hold himself together.

“Oh, Eddie!” his mum says. “This guy must be something special!”

“He really is,” Ed chokes out, not able to stop the tear that escapes his eye and runs down his cheek.

“Oh, darling,” his mum says. 

Ed takes some deep breaths to collect himself, and changes the subject. “I had a quick look at flights the other night, but it’s a bit too soon to book yet.”

“Yeah. I think your auntie might be joining us for a couple of days.” 

“Oh…” Ed says, scrunching up his nose. “Are you trying to put me off?”

“Don’t be cheeky Edward!” his mum says, but she’s smiling too. “She won’t be here for long.” His mum hesitates before she speaks again. “And we have plenty of room if you decide not to come alone. You are more than welcome to bring a friend with you.” 

Ed groans. He groans because his mum is so embarrassing. But he also groans because the idea of taking Stede on his visit back home with him feels so fucking nice. No matter what they are to each other, he really fucking likes the idea of showing him his early life and memories. 

Fuck.

+1

The sixth time Ed sees Stede is at The Red Flag.

“I’ll have the alcohol free one,” Ed says to the bartender. He can feel the daggers from Izzy’s glare cutting into him without even having to look.

“Alcohol free? What the fuck?” Izzy says.

Ed smiles, determined he will not be taking Izzy’s bait, and that Izzy won’t be ruining his night like he did last time. 

“Yes. I’m having an alcohol free beer. Thank you very much.”

When Fang had called earlier to remind Ed about the night out (not that he’d needed reminding this time, seeing Stede again was all he could think about, and they’d been texting back and forth about it for days), he’d told Ed, in a very cryptic way, that he thought it might be a good idea if Ed kept a clear head for the night. He’d used those specific words - keep a clear head. He wouldn’t say anything more about it, no matter how much Ed tried and tried to get him to. 

“Just trust me,” Fang had said.

So Ed’s trusting him, and he’s drinking alcohol free beer. 

When Ed goes over to join the group, it looks as though Stede is just as pleased to see him as he is. They have the best hug, and Ed giggles when Stede won’t let him go. 

When Ed discovers that Stede’s not drinking either, to ‘keep a clear head,’ his whole body instantly fills with butterflies. Fuck. He’s keeping a clear head too? Ed desperately tries not to hope too much, to let his imagination wander. But how many reasons could there be to keep a clear head on a night out with your new best friend who you may or may not be a little bit in love with?

Ed takes some grounding breaths, does his best to let everything else go and focus on the here and now. To just let things play out however they will. 

He and Stede dance. They laugh and they giggle, and Ed feels so fucking happy about it he could burst. Yeah, he wants more with Stede, but this? This is perfect. This is enough. This is everything. This is now, and now they’re exactly where they need to be.

When they’re tired, Ed goes to the bar to replenish their drinks, and watches with a bemused smile as Lucius drags Izzy out of the booth Stede’s now waiting for him in.

“What was all that about?” Ed asks.

“Oh, nothing,” Stede says with a smile. They sit in silence for a few minutes, content to just take in everything around them and have a break from all the dancing. 

Then, Stede turns to Ed. Ed looks at him, eyebrows raised, waiting for Stede to say something, but he doesn’t. Stede just looks him over. Lets his eyes rove all over Ed. It’s possibly the most exposed Ed’s ever felt. He’s a little worried Stede might even be able to see all the feelings he’s been trying to get to grips with lately. 

“Ed?” 

“Yeah?” Ed says, his eyes wide and expectant. 

“You’re like a book, you know.”

“A book? Am I?”

“Mm.” 

Stede’s eyes continue travelling all over Ed, and when Stede doesn’t elaborate, Ed prompts him. “How am I like a book?”

“Well,” Stede says, tilting his head as if really considering the sight before him. “I really like being able to see my books. They make me happy. But…” Stede shifts on his seat so he’s more face on to Ed. “I always feel an unstoppable urge to put my hands on a book. To stroke the cover,” he says, and he reaches out a hand and holds it over Ed’s arm. He raises his eyebrows in question, and Ed gives the smallest nod. Fuck. Stede runs his fingertips gently down Ed’s arm and Ed lets his eyes close with the sensation of it.

“To put my hands on the pages,” Stede continues, and his other hand hovers in front of Ed’s chest. Ed gives another tiny nod, and Stede lays his palm over Ed’s heart. He pushes his hand up to Ed’s shoulder and to his neck, then cups his jaw. Fuck. Fuck! Is this happening?

“It’s no good just looking at a book. I want to consume it,” Stede says. He looks into Ed’s eyes, then down at his lips, and he moves closer. Fuck fuck fuck.

“Can I kiss you, Ed?” Stede says softly. Ed’s heart stops. This is fucking happening! He gives another tiny nod. Stede runs his thumb across Ed’s bottom lip, and Ed shudders and his eyelids flutter. Then Stede leans in and gently presses his lips to Ed’s. 

It’s chaste and it’s simple, just their lips pressed together, but it feels like the world around them has slowed almost to a stop. 

Slow down. Take a breath. Learn to just sit with things as they are right now. 

Ed brings his hands up to Stede’s cheeks, pulls him in closer and deepens the kiss. There’s a growing silence around them as their own little world takes on a whole new meaning, filled with potential.

The silence is broken by an enormous cheer, and when Stede and Ed break apart to see what’s going on, they find that almost everyone in the entire place is watching them, and their friends are whooping and hollering and honking at them!

“He’s the fucking book !” Lucius shouts, his arms raised in triumph, and Olu looks at him with a confused frown. 

Stede’s cheeks are burning and he buries his head into Ed’s neck in embarrassment. Ed puts his arm around him and pulls him close. 

“Hey,” Ed says into his ear. “Shall we go somewhere a little more private?”

Stede turns his head to speak into Ed’s ear. “I have to pick the kids up tomorrow lunch time. How about you come and spend tonight and the rest of the weekend at mine? We’d love to have you.” 

“Yeah?” Ed says with a huge smile. 

“Yeah.” 

“Let’s do it.” 

Ed pushes Stede back so he can place another kiss on his lips (which generates another cheer!), and then they slide out of the booth and head for the door hand in hand, giving a quick wave to their friends.

Stede drives them home, not letting go of Ed’s hand the whole journey. They don’t say much on the way, content to just be in each other’s company, allowing the tension between them to breathe.

It’s a little awkward once they get to Stede’s house, now far from the atmosphere of the bar. It’s just the two of them in a quiet house, every sound and movement they each make deafening.

“Well, um,” Stede says nervously, avoiding Ed’s gaze. “You can hang your coat on the peg, and your boots can go underneath. Would you like a drink? I can make tea, or…”

“Hey,” Ed says comfortingly, needing to slow things down for Stede. For them both. He reaches out and takes Stede’s hand, pulling him in. He puts his arms around Stede’s waist and leans their foreheads together. “Take a breath. It’s okay. We’re okay.”

Stede breathes, and Ed feels some of the tension in Stede’s body release.

“Sorry, Ed,” Stede says. “I’m just… having a lot of… feelings.”

Ed laughs. “Yeah, I know mate. Me too.”

“You are?” Stede asks, looking into Ed’s eyes.

“Yeah, mate. Some real big ones.”

“Oh,” Stede whispers. “About…?”

“About you, actually.”

“Oh. Okay. Yes, okay.” Stede’s breathing speeds up again.

“It’s okay, Stede.” Ed pulls him into a tight hug. “I can go if you’re having second thoughts.”

“No! I’m not,” Stede says, slightly muffled against Ed’s shoulder. “I’m just… I just need a moment.” 

“You can have as long as you want, Stede,” Ed says soothingly. He’s never had a moment like this with another person before. Never anything so full of emotion. Never had an emotional connection like this. And yet somehow, it feels so natural. Like he just knows what Stede needs. 

“I think…” Stede says after a few moments. “I think I’d like to kiss you again.”

Ed grins, and pulls back to see him better. “I’d like that, too. Why don’t we make ourselves comfy?”

“Yeah,” Stede says, and he pulls Ed towards the living room sofa. 

Stede gets on first, lays almost full length, and Ed gets on in the space that’s left, and they cuddle up close. They smile at each other, then Stede leans in for another kiss. It’s slow and intense, and Ed keeps letting out little whimpers he didn’t know his body could make. 

When they break the kiss, Ed rests his forehead on Stede’s again, so happy to be this close to him. 

“Is this…” Stede says, his voice filled with anxiety. “Is this what you want? Am I…”

“This is what I want. You’re what I want.” Ed kisses him on the nose and watches Stede’s smile come back. 

“Is this enough for you? Kisses? And cuddles, I mean? For now. I just…”

“Yes. It’s perfect, Stede,” Ed whispers. “You are enough for me even if you didn’t want to be anything more than friends.”

“I do want more than that,” Stede says.  

“I mean, I didn’t wanna assume, but…” Ed says with a sly grin. 

Stede giggles. “I think it’s a fair assumption. And you’re sure you do?”

“Oh god. Yes. Since I first set eyes on you, Stede. But I was given some very good advice from a very wise woman recently. I need to do things differently so I don’t keep on making the same mistakes. So yes. I am more than happy with kisses and cuddles with you. I would really like it if we could take things slowly.”

“Slowly,” Stede echoes. “I would like that, too.”