Work Text:
Izzy's day starts like a car careening downhill with no brakes.
A phone call right when he's done brushing his teeth informs him that one of his biggest clients has requested to be transferred onto Mr. Banes' portfolio—Ricky fucking Banes who couldn’t negotiate his way out of a paper bag.
Coffee is supposed to make things better, but he pulls up to Frenchie's Roast to find that the joint is closed for team-building exercises, as if that’s a valid excuse to deny people caffeine.
Back-to-back losses in court chip away at his confidence, and the final blow comes mid-morning: an email from the prosecution informs him that the recording he'd been banking on to wrap up his current case in a nice little bow had been obtained illegally, ruling it inadmissible.
He stares at the screen in shock, wondering what deity he'd pissed off. He has no leads, no evidence, no leverage. Nothing. There's no way the case will go smoothly without that recording, and a guilty man will walk free.
He needs a fucking drink.
By noon, his mood is darker than a raincloud. He's snapped at his assistant, his paralegals, the receptionist, and anyone else unlucky enough to cross his path. A client who had wanted a last-minute appointment had nearly burst into tears and run out the door. He feels awful about it afterwards, but doesn't have the energy to apologize.
He has the urge to punch something or throw his stapler at a wall, but his desk is too clean, his hands too precious. He settles for pacing back and forth like a caged animal, a scowl fixed firmly on his face.
"Hello hello!" Someone knocks on his door frame and pushes the door open before Izzy can even look up.
Stede Bonnet stands in the doorway, dressed in an impeccable suit and carrying a paper bag and a to go cup. He's got a sunny smile on his face, as if he doesn't see the incredibly annoyed look Izzy is currently sending his way.
"I'm not in the fucking mood." Izzy spits. The words hang in the air for a beat too long, cutting into the cheerful atmosphere Stede always seems to carry with him.
"Oh." Stede's face falls. "Well, I...I've brought you lunch. You slept at your apartment last night which means you probably didn't eat breakfast, and I know Frenchie's out with John and Swede so you probably didn't have coffee either." He swallows thickly when Izzy doesn't respond right away. "Frenchie says hi by the...way." Stede finishes, voice faltering under the heat of Izzy's stare.
The tension in the room stretches taut, and Izzy's jaw works as he fights the urge to snap again. He doesn’t want to take it out on Stede, of all people, but his nerves are shot, and he’s already halfway through grinding his teeth into dust.
Stede steps hesitantly forward, placing the bag and the cup on Izzy's desk. His movements are slow and exaggerated, and Izzy realizes with a stab of guilt that the man is trying to make himself seem nonthreatening.
"Shit, Stede..." Izzy runs a hand through his hair. "It's been a really fucking awful day. I'm sorry." Stede raises an eyebrow, a rueful smile playing on his lips.
"That bad, huh?" He drawls lazily, strolling around the desk to stand beside Izzy. He smells of vanilla and citrus, and the familiar scent makes Izzy's shoulders drop an inch.
"Yeah." He huffs, letting his head fall against Stede's shoulder. The man wraps an arm around him and squeezes lightly. "It's been one fucking thing after another and why the fuck is Frenchie closed? Why the fuck do they even need a team building exercise? They're all best fucking friends!" Stede laughs, rubbing a thumb over Izzy's shoulder.
"You're right, darling. You've had a shit day. How can I help?" Izzy groans, turning his head to nose at Stede's neck.
"Don't call me darling right now. We're at work. And don't ask that. You're the fucking enemy." Izzy mutters. He knows he's not being fair, but he's been wound tighter than a spring and Stede is poking a bull. "Why the fuck has my smoking gun been rendered inadmissible?"
"Your people tapped a phone line, Iz." Stede's voice is still teasing, still soft and gentle. "You know as well as I do that at least one person needs to be aware that they're being recorded. One party consent, Mr. Hands."
"Yeah, yeah." Izzy waves a hand, letting himself melt into Stede's warmth. He's never held a grudge against Stede Bonnet in his life. Not really. Not ever. "So is this your way of making it up to me?" He feels the vibration of Stede's laughter deep in his chest.
"This is my way of making sure my boyfriend is fed and caffeinated." Stede plants a kiss on his temple. "You can't attempt to demolish my team in court on an empty stomach, love."
"I fucking hate you."
"I love you too, darling." Another kiss, another rumble of laughter. Izzy rolls his eyes, but his heart flutters despite his efforts to contain it. "Eat up. You're back in court this afternoon." Stede pulls away properly, nudging the paper bag across the desk towards Izzy. Izzy glares down at it for a second before meeting his gaze.
"Kiss for good luck?" He asks quietly, anticipating the smile that spreads over Stede's face. The man leans over and kisses him on the lips, and the world finally stops spinning for just a moment. "Get out of my office, Bonnet."
"See you in court." Stede winks, and the world is off kilter again, but maybe, just maybe, it's a little brighter.
Surprisingly, after a hearty lunch and a much-needed coffee courtesy of Stede, things look up a bit.
Jim and Ivan manage to track down some potential witnesses for another one of Izzy's cases. Lucius finds some information on a previous conviction that will be helpful in court.
The rest of the afternoon continues in fits and starts of good fortune. The detective in charge of the case sends an email—unexpected but welcome—informing him that they have new footage from the security camera in the lobby of the building his suspect had entered.
"I'll take whatever I can get at this point." He mumbles to himself, clicking on the attached files. He expects a grainy black and white video, but the files are high quality.
The case might actually be salvageable.
Finally, to put the cherry on top, Jim strolls into his office with two cups of coffee. Izzy narrows his eyes at them because he's a loyal son of a bitch and he'd rather die than drink some slop that isn't from Frenchie's Roast.
"New place on the corner. Bean there done that." They inform him, sliding a cup out of the styrofoam carrier. “Just try it. You have Frenchie’s fucking blessing to patronize another cafe today.” Izzy deliberates silently, then takes it without complaint, inhaling deeply.
"Fuck yes. You're a saint." Jim rolls their eyes, setting their own cup down on his desk. "You're a fucking saint and I'm an asshole." He amends.
"You're an asshole, alright." Jim smirks.
"What did you find?"
"I just got off the phone with that guy from Wellington Enterprises." They sink down into the plush armchair across from him. "He said they’re reconsidering transferring the account back to you. Seems like Ricky pissed their CFO off within seconds of their meeting. Said something about him being an insufferable prick." Jim takes a sip of their drink.
"Are you fucking serious?"
"Told you he was an idiot." Jim snorts, leaning back in their seat. "I think things are going to be okay. At least for today. What's next?"
"Next? Next, we win the whole fucking thing." He grins at them, feeling lighter than he has all day. "And then, I'm going home and getting fucked so hard I won't be able to walk for days."
"I really, really did not need to know that." Jim makes a face and stands, grabbing their coffee before they head for the door. "God, used to be that you were so private and now you can't keep your fucking mouth shut. I’ll sue over this hostile work environment." They joke.
"I'm allowed to be happy, aren't I?" Izzy calls after them, unable to hide the smile spreading across his face.
"Yeah, I guess you are." Jim's answering smile is small, but genuine. “About time too.”
Izzy sets his briefcase down right by the door when he gets home. His tie is next, and he's halfway through unbuttoning his shirt when his nose picks up an unfamiliar smell.
"Stede?" He calls, frowning as he rounds the corner and steps into the living room.
Stede is sitting on the sofa, a book on his lap and a fire crackling in the hearth. His sleeves are rolled up, and his hair is a little mussed, and Izzy realizes with a jolt of warmth in his chest that this is a picture-perfect vision of what he's always wanted his life to look like. It’s something he never thought he could have.
"You're home early." Stede greets, his expression fond. "How'd it go?"
"You tell me." Izzy kicks off his shoes and crosses the room, coming to a stop in front of the man. Stede tilts his head back and looks up at him, his eyes warm. "What did you do?"
"You've been explicitly clear that I'm not allowed to interfere with your cases, love. I don't know what you're talking about." He's trying to keep a straight face, but there's a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
"Right, and you've never once in your life broken a rule." Izzy retorts, raising an eyebrow. Stede's eyes crinkle, and his mouth twists into a smile. "Tell me what you did." Izzy bends forward, pressing his palms to the sofa on either side of his head. Stede closes the book with a snap. "Tell me."
"I took the rest of the day off after lunch..." He begins, dragging his words out salaciously. "I stopped at the big Tesco and picked up a few things..." Izzy frowns.
"You went grocery shopping?" He asks, and even he can hear the incredulity in his own voice. Stede hums, lifting a hand to toy with the open collar of his shirt. "By yourself? Did you drag Boodhari with you?"
"I am capable of going on quick grocery run by myself, Mr. Hands." Stede feigns offence, pushing himself up onto his elbows. His eyes drop down to Izzy's lips, and the firelight flickers between them. "I'm not completely incompetent."
"I wouldn't exactly call you competent, either." Izzy mutters, watching Stede's pupils dilate. His eyes dart down to the man's lips.
"You are being very mean to someone who loves you very much." He affects a pout and Izzy stares at him for a beat. He gives up the ghost immediately. "I got lost—"
"On the way to the supermarket?"
"And...inside the supermarket..." He adds and Izzy tucks his lips in to keep from smiling. "Listen, there were a lot of options! And that one worker was very rude, wouldn't even help me figure out where they keep the cream cheese!"
"The cream cheese?"
"Yes, the cream cheese." Stede waves a dismissive hand. "Anyway, the important thing is that I got the cream cheese, and some other things, and came home to make something special. For you."
"Oh no..." Izzy straightens up and Stede bites his bottom lip at the look of worry that crosses his face. "Bonnet...the cleaner doesn't come until Friday. If you've set the kitchen on fire—"
"I didn't set the kitchen on fire!" Stede snaps, sitting up fully and shoving at Izzy's chest. "I'll have you know that I have been known to make a thing or two to perfection, thank you very much."
"If by ‘a thing or two’ you mean a cheese toastie and boiled eggs on your very best day..." Izzy teases, letting himself get pushed away. "What'd you make?"
"Well..."
"The cleaner isn't coming by until—"
"Israel."
"Sorry." Izzy leans up on his tiptoes, pressing a kiss to Stede's lips. The man smiles against him. "What did you make me?"
"Well, you've been working so hard and I know it's not been easy, especially lately with half your team abandoning the Public Defenders’ Office for big law aka me." Stede cut off Izzy's immediate protest with another peck on the lips. "So, I figured, why not treat my boyfriend…soon to be fiance…for a change." Izzy's face softens, and his heart does a little flip. Stede takes his hand, dragging him through the apartment and towards the dining room. "I know you don't like being doted on, but you work so hard and I think you need to be reminded of how amazing you are."
"You're ridiculous."
"I am." Stede agrees, pushing the dining room door open with his foot. "Now, I had to track this recipe down but I think it'll be worth the long distance charges to Somerset if only so I can get to taste this world famous cheesecake." Izzy pauses and Stede tugs his wrist to keep him moving. "If I'm being honest, I was surprised by how quickly your grandfather gave up the secret ingredient you're always complaining about. I didn't even have to go up to the thousands. And before you get upset with me for trying to bribe your family, I will remind you that I have the chance to win it all back at Christmas poker this year, and—what's wrong?" Izzy has stopped short in the middle of the room, eyes wide as saucers.
"Holy shit." He breathes. "What a fucking mess, Bonnet!"
The kitchen looks like a hurricane hit it. Pots and pans are stacked on every available surface, and there's a thin layer of flour covering almost every surface. There's a cake tin and a mixing bowl on the floor. There's a saucepan with a beige looking sludge boiling on the stove and a plate of half-baked pastries sits on the counter. There's an odd looking machine with a metal tube sticking out of it, and a bowl of some kind of batter beside it.
"Oh..." Stede deflates. "I know it's a little much, but—" Izzy glances around the space again, and Stede deflates further if that's even possible. "I'll clean—"
"Wait. You said you...called Somerset?" Izzy whirls around and Stede wrings his hands together. He nods slowly, clearly expecting to be chastised. "You...did all this because I had a…bad day?"
"Well, technically I did this because this cheesecake is supposed to be the best thing in the universe and I wanted to try it and I couldn’t wait until Christmas." Stede admits, and he looks so earnest, so unfairly adorable, that Izzy's heart skips a beat. "I mean obviously I love you, and I wanted to make your day a little better. But...this is also about the cheesecake. I want to be absolutely clear about that."
"Fuck." Izzy grabs him by the collar and pulls him down into a kiss. It's messy, and too wet, and he can taste the salt from the tears forming in the corners of his eyes. He doesn't care. He kisses him again and again and again until they're both breathless.
"So you're not mad about the kitchen?" Stede pants when Izzy pulls back for air.
"No, fuck." He laughs, resting his forehead against the other man's. "No. This is the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me."
"Oh. Well barring how god awful that is, I'm happy to do it. As long as it makes you smile, darling." Stede's cheeks are pink, and his eyes are twinkling, and Izzy loves him so much he can't breathe. "And as long as I get to taste this damn cake.I cannot emphasise enough that this was about 50% a selfish endeavour."
"I wouldn't have it any other way." Izzy laughs again, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. "God, I love you. Come here." He wraps his arms around Stede's neck and kisses him deeply, savouring the warmth and the feeling of Stede's arms around his waist.
"I love you." Stede murmurs when they part.
"If I didn't know it before, I sure as fuck know it now." Izzy huffs, letting his eyes flutter shut. He presses his cheek to the other man's shoulder. "You're a fucking idiot."
"Maybe."
"But you're my idiot."
"Absolutely." Stede squeezes him tightly. "Always."
"Good." Izzy sighs, letting himself be held. He feels safe, and loved, and there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.
The cheesecake is burnt at the top and too chewy on the bottom. The filling is lumpy, and the cherry sauce has congealed a bit. It's easily the worst thing Izzy's ever tasted.
"So, can I add cheesecake to my list of things I can cook to perfection?" Stede asks cheekily, wincing around his fork. It's awful. It really is.
"I'm going to find a way to put a lock on that kitchen door. You're never allowed in here again." Izzy declares, taking another huge bite. Stede rolls his eyes, but the corners of his lips are twitching, and Izzy knows that he's just as happy as he is. "Thank you." He says again, reaching out to squeeze Stede's hand.
"Even though it's awful?"
"Especially because it's awful." Izzy nods solemnly. "My mum could never get it right either, honestly. This tastes identical to the ones she'd make for us." Izzy makes a face, but he continues digging in dutifully. He's done worse for less, and this is Stede after all. He'd do anything for Stede. "Think that secret ingredient gramps keeps boasting about is gonna die with him."
"Not if I beat it out of him at Christmas dinner..." Stede offers with a grin, setting his fork down.
"Elder abuse? I didn't think you had it in you, Bonnet." Izzy wipes his mouth and stands. "Come on."
"Where are we going?"
"To the bedroom where I can show my boyfriend...soon to be fiance...how much I love him." Izzy offers, leaning over to press a kiss to his forehead.
"Just today you were calling me the enemy." Stede grumbled good-naturedly, grabbing his hand and lacing their fingers together. "Now I'm your boyfriend soon to be fiance. Make up your mind, Israel."
"I have. It's made up." He pulls him through the door, laughing when Stede spins him around and pushes him against the wall.
"Yeah?" Stede asks, eyes sparkling as he leans over him.
"Yeah."
Stede kisses him again and again, and the world is right side up.
Finally.