Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

1957

Stede Bonnet lay on the floor, newspaper spread out before him as he cut a careful line up through the middle of the page.  His mother’s embroidery scissors were pretty difficult to cut with, the blade too short and the handles too wide for his fingers, but he was going slowly, and the line wasn’t too jagged.

He reached his goal, and turned the scissors to the right, then down, then left, cutting out a clean square in the centre of the page.  He held it up in triumph before setting it aside and moving onto the next one, in the bottom right corner.  Once both squares were cut out, he slipped them carefully into the envelope he’d taken from his father’s office drawers.  Envelope sealed, he wrote the now-familiar address onto the front in neat letters.

He’d pass it on to the housekeeper later, just like he always did.

1995

“Hard at work, I see, Lucius,” Stede said breezily, as he entered the room with a stack of books in his arms.

“I’m taking a late lunch,” Lucius replied, elbows on the counter, not looking up from whatever it was he was so engrossed in.

“I seem to remember you taking an early lunch as well,” Stede said, dropping the books onto their designated table.  “And a lunchtime lunch,” he added pointedly, divvying the books out a bit before swivelling around to face him.  “You’re not even eating!  What are you reading?”

“Just browsing the personals,” Lucius said vaguely.

“…Really?” Stede asked, voice pitched higher than he’d intended.  He cleared his throat, and aimed for lower this time.  “Anything good?”

“The usual,” Lucius said, finger trailing down the page.  “Ladies with curves… men with senses of humour… one bloke looking for a threesome… he wants two women though, soooooo best of luck to him but I wouldn’t be holding my breath.”

“Sounds like things have changed a little from my day!” Stede said, forcing a chuckle.

It was at this point that Lucius looked up at him with a catlike grin.  “Stede Bonnet, did you used to peruse the personals?” he asked, mock-scandal dripping from his voice while amusement danced in his eyes.

“Oh, not really,” Stede brushed off, feeling colour rising to his cheeks as he shifted some more books around.  “Sometimes, for a bit of entertainment.  How the other half live, and all.”

“You mean the sexually active half?” Lucius asked, raising his eyebrows.  “Because there’s still time.”

“Lucius!” Stede whisper-shouted, cheeks probably bright pink by now.  “This is a bookshop!”

“Uh-huh,” Lucius said, performatively looking around at their distinct lack of customers, “and it’s as empty as your bed.”

“How could you possibly know that?” Stede asked haughtily, because really, did the boy have a camera installed in Stede’s bedroom?  He thought not!  (He hoped not.  That would be very embarrassing, especially because it would only prove him right.)

Thankfully, this did not seem to be the case, given Lucius’ less-than-compelling explanation of how he’d arrived at this conclusion.  “I can just tell,” he shrugged.  “Everybody within a 10-mile radius can probably tell.  It’s your aura.”

“My aura,” Stede replied flatly.

“Mmm,” Lucius nodded, looking him up and down.  “You have an unfucked aura.”

“Well, that’s good to know,” Stede said as his straightened his shoulders, deciding he’d had quite enough of this conversation for one day.  And he was just about to wash his hands of the whole thing and get back to laying all of the books out across the table, when Lucius spoke up again.

“Hey, why don’t you write one of these, get yourself out there?”

Stede looked up with a start, to find that Lucius was lifting the newspaper aloft.  And showing him the page of personal ads.

Immediately, he let out a laugh.  “Don’t be ridiculous!”

“What’s so ridiculous?” Lucius asked, eyebrows raised, and if Stede didn’t know any better, he’d think he was actually being serious, which was almost unprecedented for Lucius – so much so that it actually gave Stede pause.

“Well, it’s all a bit… silly, isn’t it?” he replied weakly, gesturing vaguely towards the page held up towards him.  “All this.  I mean, I doubt it ever works out.”

“It’s how Pete and I met Fang.”

“Yes, but – really?” Stede blinked.  He’d never heard of anybody actually meeting someone this way before.  And maybe this was because the circles he’d been trapped in for years were the types to be introduced to each other by their fathers (and half of them were probably inbred) but still. 

“Yep,” Lucius replied simply.  “Tons of old people still look at them.”

Stede pursed his lips.  “And I suppose you think I’m old?”

“No, I think you’re 50 years young and looking for fun – there’s your first line right there,” Lucius smirked.

“Ha, ha,” Stede retorted stiffly, because of course Lucius hadn’t been serious, he’d been foolish to think otherwise.  With this little detour over and done with, he tried once again to get back to the task at hand – but of course, the silence didn’t last.

“Come on, Stede, you’ve been divorced for ages,” Lucius whined, dropping the newspaper on the counter and walking over to him.  “You can’t live like this, just piling and unpiling books all the livelong day.”

“I do other things!” Stede protested – just because Lucius only ever saw him at work didn’t mean that he ceased to exist outside of it.  “I… go places.  Do stuff.”

“With who?” Lucius challenged.

“…There’s plenty of enjoyment to be had with myself,” Stede responded tightly.  And this was true.  Stede was comfortable in his own company.  He liked reading by himself, he liked going on long walks in the countryside by himself.  Would he prefer to have someone to talk to about his favourite novels, or point out his favourite plants?  Maybe, but he really doubted anybody would be all that interested, which was why he had to be content with what he had.  Himself.

“Sure,” Lucius said, “but it’s good to have options.”

Easy for you to say, Stede wanted to retort.  After all, Lucius seemed to have plenty of options.  There was Pete, and now this new chap with the unusual nickname, and probably countless others that came and went and sometimes stuck around, but even when they didn’t, there was always someone else waiting in the wings.  Evidently he was able to navigate that whole world a lot easier than Stede was.

He seemed to realise this, though, or at least realise that Stede wasn’t entirely comfortable with this whole conversation, because he finally backed off.  “Just… think about it,” he suggested, offering what actually looked like a genuine smile.

Stede did think about it.

He thought about it for the rest of the workday (quite shamefully after he’d admonished Lucius for not working, because now he wasn’t getting anything done either).  Because the truth was, he actually had a bit of a history with the personal ad section.  Nothing salacious, despite what Lucius might think – despite his many flaws as a husband, he’d never strayed (mostly because that would require actually knowing what he wanted, and that realisation didn’t come for a long time).  But he’d found the whole thing fascinating since childhood.  All of those people, putting parts of themselves out there, hoping to find love.  As a boy, he’d read through those pages as voraciously as he’d read any book, taking all of his father’s newspapers he could get his hands on, absorbing the snippets of their lives and filling in the blanks with his imagination.  He even used to… oh, never mind what he used to do.  The point was, he’d found it all terribly exciting.

At least, until he grew up, got married, and learned what actual relationships were like.  That had taken the excitement right out of it all, not to mention the romance.  The men and women in these advertisements were all doomed to a life of misery in the end, no matter who they ended up with.  Marriage was a sham, love probably wasn’t real, and romance was definitely out.  But then, one divorce and a rather important personal revelation later, it occurred to him that maybe he’d been the one doing it wrong.  Which meant that maybe Lucius was right.  Maybe it was possible to find happiness, even love, through a few lines in the local paper.  Maybe Stede’s childish fantasies hadn’t been so silly after all.

He didn’t admit this in front of Lucius, of course.  He wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction, not yet, not while he was still undecided about it all.  But he did let him finish early, due to the complete lack of customers, which comes of opening up a used bookstore on a street with several already in business, and giving yours an unintentionally confusing name which you only realised was confusing after you’d had the damn sign up for a month.  But Stede loved this location and he loved the name, and he was quite finished with changing everything about himself for other people, thank you very much, so he was keeping things just as they were.

Unfortunately, this meant that he was now doomed to spend the rest of the afternoon on his own in an empty bookshop, because the bell above the door was not getting up to much ringing.  Hell, maybe he should just call it a day himself.  He was his own boss now, he didn’t have to stay here for no good reason, watching the minutes tick by.  He could go upstairs to his apartment… but somehow, it felt even emptier up there.  The thing nobody told you about leaving your suffocating family home was that an empty apartment can be just as suffocating – he never thought he’d sit back with a book and miss the sound of his children running around the house as he tried to read, but apparently wonders never ceased.  And it was too early in the day for one of their phone calls, so he was entirely out of luck there.

So, with no good reason to either go upstairs or stick around here, he decided to take himself somewhere with a bit of ambient sound, to drown out the thoughts swirling around in his head a little bit.  He settled on the coffee shop around the corner, which he’d grown quite fond of: Lucius had recommended it when he moved to the area, since it was close to the bookshop (therefore equally close (plus one set of stairs) to Stede’s apartment) and he often went there on weekends just to get out and about – one of the many exciting activities he did by himself!  Besides, it was nice to have a local, so to speak.  It helped him fit in with the community, even if all he was really doing was sitting at a table and drinking coffee in silence.  He usually took a book with him just so he didn’t look like a complete loner, but today, he swiped the newspaper Lucius had left on the counter and tucked it under his arm on his way out.  Might as well have something a bit different to read.

He arrived to find the place pleasantly half-full, which was exactly how he liked it, mostly because it meant his favourite spot was free – the cosy armchair in the corner, which he had to assume was only ever empty because it was a lone seat at a table.  Once he’d ordered and collected the coffee from his barista, he made his way straight there before anybody else snatched it up, settling in and making himself comfortable.  As he waited for his coffee to cool, he flicked idly through his new reading material, skimming through the general news he’d read in his own morning paper, trying to reabsorb it.  And yes, he knew this was an exercise in futility.  Performance art for an audience of nobody.  He knew why he’d really grabbed the paper, he just… didn’t want to go straight there.  He wanted to build up to it, casually.  Like he’d just so happened to come across this silly little section in the back and let it entertain him for a minute or two.  No hopes, no expectations, and certainly no plans to write one of his own.  Just something to read while he had a nice cup of coffee.

Of course, the anticipation got too much for him eventually, and he found himself barely even taking in the words on the next few pages he was breezing past, until he finally landed on the page Lucius had been looking at earlier.  And immediately, he understood what the boy had meant about all of the men with the humour and the women with the curves, but there were a few… interesting others that caught Stede’s eye as well.

LET’S MAKE MAGIC

GWM, 40s, looking for up to three men for no strings attached evening.  Can participate or just watch.

Stede felt his entire face heat up as he read that one.  Not that it really sounded like something he’d be interested in, but it certainly got his mind wandering a bit… up to three men!  Stede wasn’t even convinced he could handle one man.  Tugging at his collar a little bit, he moved onto the next ad.

FUN AND GAMES

Couple (both female 50s) seeking couple (any gender) for fun & games, both sexual and mental.  Lovers of beauty appreciated.  We’ll provide the toys.

Good grief!  Stede had to admire the straightforwardness of these people, but he was quite sure he wasn’t looking for anything like that either.  Mostly because these were two women, but also because it sounded even more intense than the last one!  He’d been right earlier, things had definitely changed since the last time he’d looked at one of these.  God, maybe they were all like this now… only one way to find out, he supposed, and kept on reading.

HUSBAND NUMBER ?

Business owner, 25, seeking new husband.  Must be hot, obedient, and have bartending experience.  Guys with European accents definitely apply.

Okay, that one was just confusing – did she want a husband or an employee?!  Honestly, Stede was beginning to lose all hope that he’d have any place in a page like this, in among all of these people.  It was a whole other world, and Stede was still trying to figure out where he fit into this world, never mind that one.  Lucius had meant well, suggesting that he get involved, but it really didn’t seem likely, not if these were the sorts of things people were looking for.

But as he braced himself and read on, he managed to reach some more familiar, relatable ads, in amongst the rest.  The type of thing he could maybe see himself writing, if he could summon the courage.  Widows looking for love, workaholics looking for someone to break up their day, all kinds of people looking for all kinds of companionship.  And suddenly Stede began to get swept up in it all, just like he used to when he was young and naïve and hopeful.  His eyes glazed over as he looked through ad after ad, the words getting blurry after a while as they blended into one: one giant lonely heart, bleeding its ink out all over the page, dripping down onto Stede’s neatly pressed trousers like–

“Mate?”

“Hmm?” Stede asked vaguely as he was roused from his thoughts, looking up to find a man who obviously worked there standing over him.  “Oh, sorry, hello,” Stede blinked, wondering if he’d left something on the counter when he’d collected his drink.  “Can I help you?”

“Yeah,” the man said.  “It’s 6:00.”

“Oh,” Stede said, brow furrowing.  “What time do you close?”

“6:00.”

Ah.  That made sense.  “Shit, sorry, I should probably,” Stede began, reaching for his barely-touched coffee cup, “I’ll just quickly finish – oh fuck, it’s freezing!” he exclaimed the second it made contact with his lips.

“Yeah, it’s been sitting there for nearly two hours,” Coffee Shop Man said dryly.  “So have you.  Barista thought you’d died.”

“Died?”

“You’ve been kinda frozen in place for a bit, staring at the same page.  Must be a pretty interesting read,” he said, and then he was peering over, trying to get a look at Stede’s newspaper, and Stede felt a sudden burst of panic shoot through his veins.

“Oh, no, it’s… nothing, really!” he rushed out, as he stood up so quickly he almost felt dizzy.  “Sorry, I’ll get out of your hair.”

“No bother,” Coffee Shop Man said, as Stede darted towards the door, clinging to the newspaper like a lifeline.  “Come again.”

Well, that was utterly mortifying.  Stede couldn’t believe he’d been in there ‘til closing time!  Come to think of it, it was getting dark outside – those autumn evenings certainly crept up on you, and this one definitely had.  He almost wished he’d brought a coat, but was at least glad he hadn’t needed to faff about putting any extra layers back on while the man from the coffee shop hovered over him like a vulture waiting to feed off his embarrassment.  He wrapped his arms around himself as he walked back to the bookshop, trying to stave off the chill in the air, the newspaper getting crumpled as it was crushed against his body.  He tossed it into the first bin he passed on the street, doubting Lucius would want it back tomorrow.

It was all old news by now anyway.

Chapter Text

1982

Stede felt his heart pounding as he read the words, printed so openly on the page.

Good-looking, athletic, GWM, 28, seeking same for possible relationship. 

He hadn’t meant to look at it, really.  It wasn’t even his newspaper.  He’d just found it lying around, and decided it would be better than nothing to read as he ate his miserable salad in his miserable cubicle at his miserable workplace.  And he’d stumbled upon this page near the back by accident – he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d sought out the personal ads deliberately.  He had no need to, not in his position, so why would he bother?  But while the page was in front of him, he’d thought he might as well peruse it, just to pass the time.  A trip down memory lane, in a way.

What he hadn’t anticipated was this ad, and the inexplicable feeling it would put in his chest.  Really, it can’t have been the first time he’d come across an ad like this, but it probably hadn’t meant anything to him as a child.  All of those acronyms were so confusing.  But now he knew what the G stood for well enough… he just didn’t know why it was making him so hot and bothered, why he couldn’t stop staring at it, wondering what the man who wrote this ad might look like, what he might be like, what kind of relationship he wanted, whether it would work out for him, whether it could work out for him, or someone like him, or someone like…

“Up to no good, are you, Bonnet?”

Stede almost gave a very undignified shriek of alarm at the sudden sound of a voice right in his ear.  “What?” he managed to say instead, only flinching a little.

“Does the missus know about this?” Nigel went on, peering down at the page over Stede’s shoulder like he was trying to get a closer look at the pages in front of him.

Stede tried to calm his heartbeat, even as it kept on thudding away in his chest.  Nigel had no way of knowing which ad he’d been looking at, just… oh shit, just that he was a married man looking at a lonely-hearts column.  “Don’t be silly, I’m just reading,” he said, hoping his voice sounded steady enough to diffuse the situation entirely.

But Nigel swiped the page up from the desk before Stede could stop him.  “Let me see, what have we here?” he crowed, loudly enough that anybody in the vicinity could hear.  “Leggy blonde looking for fun.  Uh-oh, this isn’t you, is it?’” he asked – practically guffawed, actually.

“I don’t know what you’re getting at,” Stede said, feeling uncannily like he was going to be sick. 

At least that wasn’t the one he’d actually been looking at, because if Nigel read that one aloud, he was sure his own reaction would have given him away, and he had no idea what would happen then.  But no, Nigel was just calling him a woman again.  Same as usual.

“Hope this doesn’t get back to your Mary,” Nigel went on.  “How many months pregnant is she now?  Wouldn’t want another baby Bonnet popping out to find daddy’s run off with some tart from the daily rag.”

“I’m just reading,” Stede repeated, even as he felt Nigel’s voice drown him out, as the man began to stroll around the office with the newspaper, entertaining the staff with his mockery of these sad, pathetic losers searching for love in a tabloid, as Stede shrunk into his seat and hoped everybody would eventually forget that he was the one who’d been caught looking at it.

1995

Stede was up to his eyeballs in a new order of antique encyclopaedias when Lucius swanned into work the next… well, it would be generous to call it morning.  Post-brunch, definitely.  Not that he’d really been needed, of course – there’d only been one customer so far today, a little old lady who’d spent half an hour browsing the Mills & Boon selection before leaving without buying any of them, even after Stede’s rather passionate sales pitch which had evidently been completely wasted on her.  The rest of the morning had been filled with these stuffy old tomes, which Stede had initially been eager to receive, but now he was doubting they’d be flying off the shelves any time soon when he couldn’t even sell softcore porn to old ladies.  All this to say, he was feeling rather downtrodden, which wasn’t helped much by the first words Lucius had for him as he walked through the door.

“Sooooo, what did I miss?”

No doubt he was referring to his early finish yesterday, and Stede only had one answer for him.

“I got chased out of Cracking Coffee.”

“Out of where?” Lucius asked, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it onto the chair beside him.

Stede held back a frustrated sigh at having to clarify what ought to be obvious.  “That place on the corner, the one you told me about,” he said pointedly.

Lucius turned back to him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but then something seemed to occur to him.  “You think it’s called… Cracking Coffee…” he said slowly.

“Well, yes!” Stede huffed – he was already tetchy this morning, and the pointlessness of this conversation wasn’t helping.  “Because they do a cracking cup of coffee, I imagine.”

Lucius looked like he had some kind of rebuttal to this, but then apparently changed his mind, giving his head a quick shake before clearly deciding to change the subject.  “Okay, never mind, why exactly did you get kicked out?”

“Chased out,” Stede emphasised.  “I wasn’t kicked out, that makes it sound like I was wreaking havoc.”

“Were you?”

“Of course not!  I just zoned out a bit, lost track of time.”

“Mmm, sounds about right,” Lucius smirked, like maybe Stede did that a lot.

“Well, on this occasion, you’re the one to blame,” Stede retorted, since it was Lucius that had gotten him into this mess to begin with.  “I was taking your advice, looking into the personals.”

“Hey, look at you!” Lucius said, his face suddenly lighting up – shame Stede was going to have to immediately disappoint him.

“Don’t get too excited, I’m not bothering in the end,” he said curtly.

As expected, Lucius’ expression dropped immediately into a pout.  “Aww, why not?”

And there was a multitude of reasons, really.  The intimidation of the other ads on the page.  The embarrassment Stede had felt just from being caught looking at the damn things.  The reminder that he had no idea what a healthy relationship was even like, so how could he possibly ask for one?

“It’s too difficult,” he finally announced pathetically.  “I mean, what would I even say?”

“That depends,” Lucius shrugged.  “What are you looking for?”

“Well…” Stede faltered, because wasn’t that the question?  “…Love, I suppose.”

“Yes, but what kind of person?”

“A… a man,” Stede tried, honestly still getting used to saying that out loud.  Not that it was a secret any more, certainly not from Lucius who had clocked it right away, but considering that Stede still hadn’t done anything about it, acknowledging that part of himself still felt like a big step every time he did it.  He was rather proud, actually.

But Lucius just sighed dramatically.  “Come on, I know you’re pickier than that.  Age?  Hair colour?  Height?”

“Why should I care what height he is?”

“You say that until you end up dating some guy a whole foot shorter than you and then you wind up doing your back in every time you lean down to kiss him,” Lucius rattled off all in one breath.

Stede raised his eyebrows.  “Speaking from experience, I take it?”

“I’m just saying, it’s best to be specific,” Lucius said, fixing him with a serious look.  “What do you want, Stede?”

“I…”  Stede began, not sure where that sentence was even going.  In 48 years, nobody had ever really asked him what he wanted before.  Well, maybe an exasperated ‘what do you want???’ from Mary when he called her up during one of her painting sessions to double check what time he was supposed to pick Alma up from horse-riding, but not in the kind of deep, existential way Lucius was asking him now… admittedly, he probably hadn’t meant for it to sound deep and existential, but that was how Stede had decided to take it.  Unfortunately, this meant he didn’t exactly have an answer ready to go, which soon became clear when he didn’t actually say anything further.

“That one wasn’t supposed to stump you, babe,” Lucius spoke up after a while, not unkindly.

“I know,” Stede sighed.  “It’s just…”  He trailed off again, giving himself a moment to take in the man standing before him.  A confident, young, gay man, who clearly wasn’t afraid to put himself out there, and things all seemed to work out for him.  “How do you know what you want?” he asked, hoping that could point him in the right direction.

Lucius shrugged.  “Years of practice.”

“Ah,” Stede replied, because he didn’t exactly have that.  He had years of whatever the opposite of practice was.  Malpractice?  Yes, that sounded like an accurate description of his marriage.

“Look, you don’t have to know it all right away,” Lucius reassured him.  “Just try and narrow it down a bit, for starters.  And you’ll figure out the rest as you go.”

Stede really wished he’d stop asking Lucius for advice, because the trouble was, it often made an annoying amount of sense.  It didn’t exactly solve all of his problems, but it did help him realise that he’d maybe been a bit hasty in giving up so soon.  After all, he hadn’t even tried to write an ad of his own, yet – he should at least give that a shot before he packed the whole thing in, then at least he’d know for sure if it was a complete waste of his time.  So, he sent Lucius home early again, ostensibly because there was nothing for him to do, but really because he had a renewed itching to figure out just what he wanted for himself after all, and he couldn’t do that with Lucius breathing down his neck (or, more likely, silently smirking at him from across the room).

Of course, this left him in the same predicament as yesterday – everything suddenly feeling far too quiet for his noisy little thoughts.  Already, he felt the urge to escape from the bookshop and go… well.  The thing was, he wasn’t exactly looking forward to going back to Cracking Coffee after what he was unofficially naming the incident, which he certainly hadn’t been playing over and over in his mind since he’d run out of the door clutching the newspaper in his fist.  It definitely hadn’t brought back any uncomfortable memories of his old workplace and his old supervisor and the inherent embarrassment of his entire existence, no, not at all.  He just wasn’t entirely eager to return so soon after overstaying his welcome last time, that was all.

But… they really did do a cracking cup of coffee, and Stede really was picky.  Besides, it was a totally different day of the week, there was no guarantee that the same staff member would even be there, let alone remember him.  People in the service industry had to deal with far too many customers to keep track of them all – not that Stede knew what that must feel like, working in the bookshop that the world forgot, but he probably wasn’t that memorable.  What had he been wearing yesterday?  He didn’t think it was one of his louder outfits.  It was the season for his autumn vibe selection – burnt oranges, rich reds and browns, hardly his flashiest stuff.  He was sure he blended right into the furniture.

With that in mind, he muttered an affirmation to himself (“fuck it” – short but sweet), grabbed his coat and scarf from the rack, pen and pad from the counter, and keys from the drawer, and made his way out of the front door.  None of the passers-by on the street even spared him a second glance as he locked up his bookshop at a time that could be considered unusually early, and he tried not to feel too bothered about that.  He just braced himself against the cool autumnal air and headed off down the street, following the same path he always did, before finally turning the corner and coming face to face with Cracking… oh.  Kraken Coffee, that’s what the sign said.  To be honest, he hadn’t had a proper good look at it before, he’d just followed Lucius’ vague directions and then followed his own nose in through the door.  Well, now the little octopus on the takeaway cups made sense – Stede had to admire some good branding, and admittedly felt a little guilty that he’d never realised before now.  Ah well, nobody had to know!  Except Lucius, but he wouldn’t tell… actually, he’d probably tell a lot of people.  Hmph.  As long as it didn’t get back to the chap who’d booted him out and probably already thought he was a bit of an idiot, Stede would be content.

And so far, so good: as Stede stepped through the door, he immediately noted a different bunch of staff behind the counter, with no sign of that particular man at all.  Phew.  Strolling up to the counter a lot more confidently than he’d felt a moment ago, he placed his order, and was relieved to see that his usual seat in the corner was free… although someone had apparently left today’s newspaper on the table, which Stede knew was a perfectly common occurrence, but it still somehow felt targeted.  Shifting it pointedly to the side as he sat down with his drink, he retrieved the notepad from his coat pocket, and opened it up to the first empty page.

He stared at this page for an uncomfortably long time.  The page stared back at him blankly, courtesy of not having anything written on it.  It felt like a stand-off, like each of them was waiting for the other to make the first move.  The page was probably waiting to be written on, while Stede was definitely hoping that the words would magically appear there on their own – but when enough time had passed that this was clearly not going to happen, Stede he decided that the best approach would be to just get something down on the page, and workshop it later.  Nothing he wrote had to be permanent, he reminded himself.  He wasn’t getting a tattoo, he was brainstorming.  He just needed to get started, and the rest would figure itself out.  Hopefully.  Okay, he thought to himself, picking up his pen.  Here goes nothing.  And so he began.

Divorced male, 48, looking for male (similar age and height)

Immediately, he tore out the page and crumpled it, then frowned at himself for wasting so much paper and straightened it out again, trying to smooth down the wrinkles with his palm and managing to smudging the writing at the top in the process.  He started down at that smeared ink miserably, trying to figure out where he’d gone wrong.  It just sounded so… robotic.  What he’d loved about the ads back in the day was the excitement of them, those short little snippets that held so many enticing details.  He didn’t feel very enticed looking at ‘divorced male, 48’.  In fact, he only felt heartburn.  Sighing, he scribbled the words out, shifted his pen further down the creased page, and tried again.

Single man, 48, seeks romance with another man around the same age

No, that wasn’t it either.  Single at least sounded better than divorced, but the rest of it was all so generic, like he was a cardboard cutout looking for another cardboard cutout to take out to cardboard dinner.  What had Lucius told him?  Be specific.  Narrow things down.  And if he was going to describe what he wanted, it was only fair to describe what he was, as well.  That was a hallmark of these personal ads – people always listing their heights and hair colours and talking about how attractive they were, even when they probably weren’t.  In short, selling themselves.  Stede had worked in sales long enough that he should know how to do that… but he also didn’t want to go overboard, promise something he couldn’t live up to.  He knew he wasn’t exactly a catch: middle aged, divorced, two kids, going through a bit of a midlife crisis.  And while Lucius would probably tell him that some people would be into that, he decided to tread carefully.  Put his best foot forward, but not too good of a foot.  Describe himself.  Describe what he wanted.  Be specific.  He could do that.  Turning over to a fresh page for a fresh start, he put pen to paper yet again, and tried to let the words flow out.

Newly out gay man, 48, 5’8”, blond/brown, avid reader and snappy dresser, enjoys nature, theatre and the ocean, seeking man who appreciates the finer things in life, for fun, romance and adventure.  Ideally a similar age.  Height within kissing range.

There, that sounded… okay.  A bit wordy, but it definitely painted more of a picture than his other attempts.  He at least sounded like a real, fleshed-out person, with hobbies and interests.  No overtly terrible, off-putting baggage, but obviously some history there, stuff to unpack over dinner and drinks.  It was a start.  Now he just needed a header.  Something eye-catching, that made it clear who he was and what he was looking for.

LONELY MAN SEEKING GAY LOVE

Bit much?  Accurate, certainly, but a tad desperate.  He probably didn’t need to call himself lonely – this was a lonely-hearts column, after all, everybody here was lonely.  And Lucius would probably tell him it sounded more than a little pathetic.  He crossed that one out and tried something else.

LOOKING FOR LOVE

There.  Nice and simple… but also back to being vague again.  If he wanted to stand out and get noticed straight away, he wasn’t going to do that writing the same thing as everybody else.  He needed to be distinctive, really get to the heart of who he was.  But how to sum himself up in a snappy headline?

GENTLEMAN SEARCHING FOR COMPANIONSHIP

Jesus, what was this, the 1700s?  He scribbled over that one in frustration, and with a sigh, he found his eyes drifting across to the discarded newspaper he’d pushed to the very edge of the table.  He hadn’t exactly planned on this… he’d wanted to be original, inventive, unique.  But, he reasoned with himself, there was nothing wrong with looking for inspiration.  So, setting his pen and pad down on the table, he semi-reluctantly unfolded the newspaper and sought out the page which was fast becoming familiar to him.  He wasn’t going to read through the ads themselves this time, though, not wanting to psych himself out again.  Just the headers.  That should be easy enough, right?  He could just work his way through them all, methodically, starting in the top left corner…

PRINCE SEEKING PRINCESS

Well, that wasn’t entirely applicable.  If anything, Stede was a prince seeking another prince… or a knight, perhaps?  Prince seeks knight in shining armour?  God, he could imagine Lucius rolling his eyes somewhere across town.  Okay, something a little less fairytale.  What was the next one?

WARM, WITTY WOMAN

Ooh, he liked the alliteration, that was memorable.  And he liked to think he was warm and witty!  He wasn’t a woman, though, which kind of threw a wrench into things.  Which adjectives began with M?  Magnificent, Majestic Man?  Bit too self-aggrandising.  Mirthful, Magnanimous Man?  Nope, that put him squarely back in the 18^th century.  M… M… Manicured?  Accurate, but weird.  Maybe alliteration wasn’t going to be the way forward for him.  Moving on…

DOUBLE THE FUN

Oh, that was another one of those – okay, no, definitely not what Stede was advertising.  That sort of title might be suitable for Lucius and Pete, but it wasn’t going to work out in this case.  Not double anything over here, just little old him.  And Little Old Me had to be the worst option yet.

Not that they were getting any better, as his eyes scoured the page looking for anything remotely suitable.  The generic ones were boring, the specific ones were specific in the wrong way, and once again he was adrift in a sea of words on a page… until, in a horrifying instance of déjà vu, he found himself interrupted.

“M’afraid it’s that time again.”

Stede couldn’t believe it.  The voice rumbling above him was hauntingly familiar, and he found himself cringing in his seat at the mere sound of it.  Because of course that man would appear out of the blue after Stede had convinced himself he wasn’t here, and of course it would be to tell him the exact same thing as before.  Of course Stede had somehow managed to overstay his welcome for the second day in a row!  How on earth was it 6 o’clock again already?!  He felt like he’d just got here!

“Sorry, I keep… forgetting where I am, I think,” he found himself admitting, because it was the only excuse he really had for managing to do this again straight after the embarrassment of last time.

“I’ve noticed,” Coffee Shop Man said, and then he leaned in to look down at the newspaper.  “Someone catch your eye?’

“Oh, it’s not,” Stede began instinctively, “I’m not – well.”  And here, he paused.  Because what the hell was he doing, feeling the need to scramble and hide what he was reading from a stranger?  He had no reason to be defensive, not anymore.  He was free to look at all the personal ads he wanted!  He was even free to write one of his own, and see where it took him.  He was a new man, an improved man, and he wasn’t going to let the memory of Nigel Badminton shame him any longer.  And so, he took a deep breath, and spoke.  “I’m actually writing one myself,” he said, proud of how confident the words sounded coming out of his mouth.  He even managed to make eye contact!  And he was glad he did, because the man looking down at him was absolutely nothing like Nigel Badminton.  Easier on the eyes, for a start, which was something that might have evaded Stede’s notice in his haste to get away from him yesterday, but he was certainly noticing it now.  It was hard not to notice.  But even more importantly than the man’s lovely hair, or eyes, or face, was his expression.  It didn’t seem cruel or mocking.  It seemed… interested.

“Ah, scouting out the competition, then?” he asked, those eyes twinkling with gentle amusement.

“More like looking for inspiration,” Stede admitted, the words slipping out a lot more naturally now he was fairly certain this man wasn’t here to make fun of him.  “This is all much harder than you’d think.”

“I’ll bet,” Coffee Shop Man said, the corners of his lips twitching upwards.  “Wanna tell me about it?”

That was how Stede found himself still sitting there after closing time, with a fresh, hot cup of coffee placed on the table beside him, and a virtual stranger pulling over a chair to sit across from him.  A stranger who soon introduced himself as Ed, with a warm handshake and even warmer smile, and Stede supposed this meant he wasn’t a stranger, really, not anymore.  Stede introduced himself too, of course, and quickly double-checked that he was actually okay to be staying back like this (“boss won’t mind,” Ed had replied with a wink, and Stede decided to believe him) and once that was settled, he felt comfortable sitting back, taking a long sip of his coffee, and addressing the elephant in the room.

“I suppose you’re thinking it’s a bit old fashioned,” he said, because there had to be a reason Ed had looked so tickled by what he was doing, if not to bully him outright.  And since he wasn’t giving off that vibe at all, he must be amused for another reason.  Stede knew that plenty of people were meeting online these days, in chatrooms and the like, so he reasoned that he must be coming across as rather out of touch.  Personal ads were a dying art, and that probably made him a bit of a curiosity.  Like something in a museum, perhaps, or a haunted Victorian doll.

But Ed shook his head.  “Sometimes the old ways are the best,” he said, and something about his tone was reassuring.  Like he knew what he was talking about.  Maybe he did!

“Have you ever written one?” Stede asked, eyebrows raised, just in case he was actually speaking from experience here.  Maybe he could even be of some help to him!

“Me?  Nah, I… never had much trouble finding what I wanted out and about,” Ed shrugged.

And although this was a slight disappointment, Stede had no trouble believing it.  Even from their brief interaction, it was clear as day that Ed was handsome, charming, confident in a way that Stede wasn’t… a quiet kind of confidence, not the brash kind that people tended to find off-putting.  He seemed cool.  He probably had whoever he wanted, whenever he wanted.  Stede couldn’t pretend he didn’t envy that.

“Dunno, though,” Ed suddenly spoke up again, “never really found anyone that lasted.  Maybe I should take a leaf out of your book.  Page out of your newspaper, whatever.”

His phrasing sparked a recently-unearthed memory, and Stede huffed out a laugh of recognition.  When he got a pair of confused eyebrows in response, he tried to explain himself.

“Sorry, it’s just, when I was a kid, I used to… it’s silly,” he waved off, because he really didn’t need to get into all of that right now.

“No it isn’t,” Ed retorted.

“You don’t even know what it is, yet!”

“I know it’s not silly,” Ed said, with a look that could only be described as sincere.  “Go on.”

Stede felt a strange kind of warmth settle in his chest at those words, spoken so simply.  Or maybe it was the fresh cup of coffee settling in his stomach, but whatever it was, he could feel it energise him.  “Alright,” he began, not entirely used to people actually asking him to elaborate on anything.  He hoped he did a decent job of it.  “I used to… when I was very young, I used to go through the personal ads, and find ones that I thought matched up, and then I’d… cut them out and mail them back to the newspaper together.”  He trailed off a bit towards the end there, knowing it sounded ridiculous even as he was saying the words.

But Ed’s smile only widened.  “Like a matchmaker,” he said.

“Exactly,” Stede chuckled, rubbing at the back of his neck.  “I thought maybe they’d help get those people in touch, I don’t know.”

“Maybe they did,” Ed said.  “Maybe some of them are married now.”

“Hah!” Stede found himself exclaiming.  “That would be nice.”

“Bet they keep those little snippets together,” Ed went on, “have ‘em framed in their house.”

“Maybe,” Stede said vaguely – it was kind of Ed to be so encouraging, but he doubted that any of this was remotely true.  Even now that he was opening himself up to looking at these ads again, he still knew that that particular activity had been an unrealistic, childish fantasy, and he didn’t need to be pandered to.  “I don’t know, I kind of stopped believing that when I got married.”

“You’re married?” Ed asked, eyes widening just a little – and no bloody wonder, if he thought Stede was doing all of this just to cheat on his wife.

“God, no!” Stede rushed out, before he gave off the wrong impression.  “Not anymore!  Very divorced.  It wasn’t exactly a love match,” he explained, which was probably the simplest way of describing his and Mary’s whole situation.  “I actually got very cynical for a while, thought romance was a sham, and we all just ended up miserable in the end.  But now I’m free again, I’m…”

“Feeling romantic?” Ed suggested, eyebrows raised.

“A little bit,” Stede admitted.  That felt a bit embarrassing to say out loud, too, especially to someone who had until very recently been a complete stranger.  But he couldn’t deny he felt comfortable with Ed, even if it was only their second encounter… which was probably why he didn’t bolt for the door when Ed said what he said next.

“Can I see what you’ve written?” he asked, eyes drifting down to Stede’s notebook, long abandoned on the table by now.

“It’s not finished,” Stede said immediately, because while he may not be running in fear, he couldn’t pretend he was entirely confident in what was written on the page.  “It doesn’t have a header.”

“I could help come up with one,” Ed said, and he sounded so genuine, so earnest, that Stede found he couldn’t possibly deny him.

“…Alright,” he said, picking up the notebook and passing it over.  “Don’t laugh.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Ed said seriously, flipping the cover open and briefly glancing at the crumpled first page before moving onto the next.  He read slowly, like he wanted to absorb every word.  “Fun, romance and adventure…” he mumbled, as his eyes glided across the page, and Stede tried not to shiver at the words being read back to him like that.  He’d expected to feel yet more embarrassment at hearing them out loud, but Ed’s voice was so smooth, he almost made them sound… good.  Incredible, what good narration could accomplish.  Ed should do tapes, or something.

“What’s kissing range?” Ed asked a moment later, glancing up at him.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Stede chuckled bashfully.  “A friend advised I put that on there so I don’t do any damage to myself.  He probably thinks I’m falling apart at my age, but I’m actually a lot more flexible than I look,” he felt the need to add, not wanting to seem like some crumbling old man.

Ed raised his eyebrows.  “Definitely put that on there,” he said, sliding the notebook back towards him.

“Is the rest okay?” Stede asked, feeling strangely like he needed some kind of positive reinforcement.  Maybe a pat on the back, or a firm handshake.

“I think it’s good, mate,” Ed nodded, which was almost as good.  “Gets your personality across.”

“You think?” Stede double-checked, hoping that was a good thing.

Ed gave what Stede had begun to think of as one of his signature smiles.  “I know you better already,” he said, and Stede felt that warmth again, rising up his neck this time.  He wondered if he was turning pink at all.  He was known to do that when he got a bit overheated, and he was already dressed in a nice warm jumper, so this couldn’t be helping.  He didn’t even know which part of Ed’s words was making him heat up, because it wasn’t embarrassment exactly, not anymore… intimacy, maybe.  He’d shown someone a part of himself, and they knew him better now.  And it felt nice.  It felt warm.

“What about a header?” he asked, before he grew any hotter and/or pinker.  “I need something that’ll stand out.”

Ed thought on this for a moment.  “You mentioned reading,” he pointed out, “could make it about books?”

“Oh, like one of those Looking for Mr Darcy ones?” Stede asked, because he’d seen a fair few of those in his time.

“That the type of guy you looking for?” Ed asked.

“Well…” Stede hesitated, wondering exactly how to put this.  “You can’t deny the romance, but I don’t think he’s really my type.  A bit stuffy.”  Not that he didn’t loosen up as things went on, but Stede wasn’t sure that was the sort of romance for him.  He’d spent far too long in a marriage with someone who could barely tolerate his presence, and frankly, he wasn’t getting younger.  If he was going to start afresh with someone new, he wanted it to be someone who liked him right away… if such a person existed.

“Could go for a joke, then?” Ed suggested.  “Keep things light.”

Now, that sounded more like it!  Stede thought about it silence for a second before speaking up.  “Ooh, how about Check Me Out?” he asked eagerly.  “Like a library book!”

“Are you a librarian?” Ed asked.

“Not quite.”

“Mmm, doesn’t work then,” Ed concluded.  But he must have noticed Stede’s face falling, because he followed it up with another signature smile.  “Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out, mate.”

Stede felt his heart flutter.  We’ll figure it out.  We.  He was no longer left to his own devices, muddling through it all by himself, destined to do it alone – okay, admittedly he may have had Lucius’ guidance before now, but he could hardly imagine the boy sitting down with him (off the clock, no less!) and helping him find the exact words he needed.  But now he had a partner, someone to bounce ideas off… hell, someone to come up with ideas of his own!  And they’d figure it out.  Together.

“Yes,” he smiled back at Ed.  “I’m sure we will.”

LOOKING FOR MY NEXT CHAPTER

Newly out gay man, 48, 5’10”, blond/brown, avid reader and snappy dresser, enjoys nature, theatre and the ocean, seeking man who appreciates the finer things in life, for fun, romance and adventure.  Ideally a similar age.  Any height (I’m flexible).

Chapter Text

“Stede Bonnet, you little slut!”

That was Lucius’ greeting as he strolled in through the door of the bookshop, and considering he wasn’t even working today, that was cause for alarm.  Or would be, if Stede’s ad hadn’t finally come out today.  He’d opened the morning paper himself with some trepidation, as if he’d see it in print and only then realise he’d made about 10 spelling mistakes and put the wrong hair colour or something.  But no, there it was, exactly as he’d remembered it.  It was almost surreal, actually, seeing it there amongst the others, like it belonged there.  That wasn’t a feeling Stede was particularly used to – belonging – and this certainly wasn’t a crowd he’d ever expected to be a part of.  Personal ads had always been things that were for other people, not him.  Never him.  Until now!

Although he did have to wonder if Lucius had actually seen his ad, if he was coming in and calling him… that.  Maybe he’d thought Stede was Mr Let’s Make Magic (who, yes, had placed the same ad again this time around – either the poor fellow was desperate, or it was a tried and tested formula that yielded results, in which case Stede had to commend him).  But that was hardly the vibe Stede’s ad was trying to give out, so it was probably best he double-checked before they got their wires crossed even further.

“Are you sure you have the right man?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

“Uhhh, pretty fucking sure, Stede,” Lucius said, sarcasm dripping from his voice as per usual.  “Nobody else on the entire planet would call themselves an avid reader and snappy dresser.”

“Alright, alright, let it all out,” Stede sighed, because there’d been a reason he hadn’t shown Lucius what he’d written in advance.  Not that he hadn’t been satisfied with it, but he hardly thought it would be Lucius’ scene.  Which was a good thing, he supposed, because he wasn’t trying to court Lucius, but still.

The boy seemed to realise that he might have offended him, though, because he quickly changed his tune.  “Nooooo, I just mean it’s very you,” he insisted, coming over to pat him somewhat awkwardly on the shoulder.  “Slutting it up in your own, Stedey way.”

“Wait, what’s going on?” Oluwande asked from behind the bookshelf he was currently stacking – for once, Stede wasn’t the one out of the loop with something like this, and he was about to explain himself when Lucius got there first.

“He’s advertising himself,” he spoke up, grinning salaciously.  “He’s open for business.”

“I’m not for sale, Lucius!” Stede objected, because he wasn’t sure he liked the way all of that sounded, actually.  “I’m just… available.”

“And flexible,” Lucius added, practically draping himself across the counter now, seemingly in an effort to embarrass Stede as much as possible.

“Actually, I don’t think I wanna know,” Oluwande decided, ducking back behind the bookshelf, and probably regretting that he was working this shift to begin with.

Lucius let out a laugh, but then clearly took pity on his obliviousness – or maybe he just didn’t want to have to stop talking about it so soon.  “Stede put a personal ad in the paper,” he explained.

“Oh, like a lonely-hearts thing?” Oluwande asked, poking his head back up and looking across at Stede.  “Good for you!”

“Thank you, Olu,” Stede said pointedly, because while the man seemed surprised, he at least sounded genuinely happy for him.  “See, Lucius, this is how you talk to your coworkers.”

“Uh-huh,” Lucius said, and Stede got the impression that he wasn’t going to absorb this information at all.  “Very cute header, by the way.  The chapter thing.”

“Ah, yes, that was the icing on the cake,” Stede said primly, deciding not to mention that he’d had a little bit of help with that part.  It felt like… not a secret, but something he’d like to keep to himself for now.  Which he supposed was technically still a secret, but calling it a secret made it sound shameful.  And he wasn’t ashamed: not of being helped, and not of who had helped him… he just admittedly liked the idea of having a new acquaintance that Lucius and Oluwande didn’t know about, someone outside of their circle (which had kind of become Stede’s circle, but was mostly comprised of people who made him feel very old and out of touch).  But now, not only was he finally branching out in the dating world, he was branching out in the friendship world as well.  At least, he hoped it could become a friendship, because really it had only been one conversation, but he certainly thought it held the potential for more.

Speaking of which, he wondered if he should let Ed know that their ad – well, his ad, their header – had finally made it to print.  It felt only right, since he’d been so encouraging about it all.  And they may not have seen each other since then, but now that he had a reason to go back and speak to him, he might as well head on over and give him the news.  Ed would be pleased to know it was out there, Stede was sure of it.  Besides, it was just about lunchtime, so he didn’t think it would seem too suspicious to ask Lucius and Olu if they fancied any coffee and pastries, because he could just run out and grab some, he’d been wanting to stretch his legs anyway and he could do with some fresh air… and when they both shrugged and said ‘sure, thanks’, obviously suspecting nothing, he took off with a spring in his step and headed straight for Kraken Coffee, desperately hoping that Ed would be on shift today.  But as soon as he walked through the door, he encountered a problem.

It was busy.

Very busy.

Admittedly, midday probably wasn’t the best time to visit a coffee shop in the hopes of chatting with a staff member who almost certainly had more important things to be dealing with, but in Stede’s defence, he hadn’t realised this part of town was so bustling, even around lunchtime.  He certainly wasn’t experiencing crowds like this in his bookshop!  Not that it even mattered that the staff were obviously swamped, because Ed wasn’t among them anyway.  Disappointment in his chest, Stede had to resist the urge to just turn around and go back to work, reminding himself that he wasn’t here just for Ed – he had promised coffee and pastries, and he was going to get them.  So, he put in his order, got handed a little paper bag with his food, and stood off to the side to wait for his drinks.  While he waited, he entertained himself with a little bit of people-watching, wondering if any of these customers could perhaps be persuaded to pop by a used bookstore once they were finished with their coffee and cake…

“You’re famous.”

“What?” Stede asked, looking up in alarm to find Ed standing right behind the counter, hands still wrapped around the coffee cups he’d just placed in front of him.  When on earth had he arrived?  Was he destined to appear out of the blue and make Stede jump out of his skin every time he saw him??  And what the hell was he talking about???

“…Saw you in the paper,” Ed explained a second later, with a sheepish grin.

“Oh, right, yes!” Stede laughed as it finally dawned on him, admittedly a little surprised that Ed had actually sought out the personals himself.  Maybe he really had been taking a leaf out of Stede’s book, like he’d said he ought to… or maybe he’d just been keeping an eye out for Stede’s ad, like Lucius apparently had.  Selfishly, Stede kind of hoped it was the latter.  “Want my autograph?” he joked, leaning up against the counter in what he hoped was a cool-guy fashion.

Ed let out a giggle of his own.  “Any takers yet?” he asked, head tilted.

“I don’t actually know,” Stede said, because it didn’t quite work like that.  “If anyone’s interested, they send their letters in to the paper, then they get mailed on to me in a couple of weeks.  There was a voicemail option too, but…”

“You prefer letters,” Ed finished for him.  “More romantic, right?”

“You know me well,” Stede chuckled, surprised by how true that statement was.  Considering the fact that he barely knew the man, he still felt strangely seen by him.  “I’m regretting it a bit now, though,” he confessed, because he felt he could admit that to Ed in a way he couldn’t to Lucius or Oluwande, or even to himself up until now.  Because in amongst the excitement of putting himself out there, the lack of instant gratification had meant there’d been plenty of opportunity for his mind to wander.  “To be honest, the anticipation’s killing me.  I keep on wondering if… anyone out there’s actually going to bother to write in, or if I’m just getting my hopes up.”

“C’mon, man, yours is definitely the best one there,” Ed reassured him, before letting slip another grin.  “Great header, too,” he added, eyebrows bouncing.

Stede laughed again, Ed’s easy manner admittedly doing wonders for him.  It made him feel like he’d truly been getting in his head over nothing, and that it’d all turn out alright in the end.  “Well, I had a wonderful co-writer,” he said, because it seemed only fair to return the compliment, pass the good vibes back to him.

Ed smiled, cheeks rounding and eyes crinkling.  “Letters’ll be rolling in, mate,” he said, reaching out to lightly tap his arm.  “Trust me.  And if they don’t,” he added, tone turning mischievous, “you can always matchmake yourself.”

“Ha, yes, I suppose,” Stede said, never mind the fact that he’d already skimmed the page, and there’d been nobody there for him.  That wasn’t the point of this exercise.  He didn’t expect the right person to just magically be there on the page beside him, which is why he was doing this the way it was intended.  With letters.  Some mysterious stranger spotting him, and being enticed enough to write to him.  Which, he reminded himself, was perfectly possible.  His ad had been good.  Ed had thought it was good.  And it looked like he was about to say something else too, probably another reassurance that would brighten Stede’s mood even further, when an angry bark came from off to their left.

“Edward!  There’s a line!”

“Fuck,” Ed sighed, looking back at the queue which had definitely lengthened while they’d been chatting.  “Better go deal with this.”

“Right, yes, of course,” Stede said, trying to conceal his disappointment that their conversation had been cut short.  Really, he should just be grateful that he’d gotten a chance to speak to Ed at all.  He did feel the need to add one little thing before he left, though.  “But I think your boss needs to work on his manners.”

Ed, already half turned around, spun back towards him.  “My boss?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

Stede pursed his lips and nodded.  “I understand you’re on the clock, but there’s no reason to shout at you like that,” he said, because he’d certainly never take that kind of tone with his employees.

Ed’s lips curled into a smile.  “Maybe you’re right,” he said thoughtfully, “maybe I should quit.”

“Oh, no, don’t quit!” Stede very nearly exclaimed.  In fact, maybe he did exclaim, because Ed looked quite alarmed at his enthusiasm, eyebrows leaping off his forehead.  Stede tried to tone it down for the next part, lower his voice a little, come across a bit more normal.  “I’d… miss seeing you here,” he admitted quietly.  And maybe this was still a bit much, but he was being honest – he’d really gotten used to their little chats, and this was only the second one!  (Third, if you counted the time he’d kicked him out.)

Ed seemed to understand though, his smile almost shy as he looked back at him.  Like maybe he even felt the same way.  “I dunno, you could see me other places,” he said quietly.  “Maybe we could–“

“EDWARD!”

“Alright, I’m coming, Jesus!” Ed shouted back, irritation in his voice.  He quickly turned back to Stede, said, “catch you later, man,” in a much more casual tone, reaching out to touch his arm again before turning tail.

Stede watched him leave with a frown.  He knew there was a lunchtime rush, but really, was there any need to talk to him like that?  He had a good mind to walk right up to this manager and give him what for… but he also didn’t want to exacerbate things, not while they were all so busy.  He did make sure to glare at the angry little man on his way out, though, just to make his feelings clear.  A real I will not be returning to this establishment look, even though of course that wasn’t the case.  But if it could scare him into treating his staff (and especially Ed) more respectfully, then it would be a job well done.

***

It was Saturday, and the bookshop was as bustling as ever.  Which was to say, not bustling in the slightest.  A couple of people had actually stopped outside today, peering in through the window in curiosity, and Stede had eagerly waved at them – but by the time he’d walked over to the door in the hopes that some verbal encouragement would help, they’d already skedaddled.  But Stede wasn’t going to let that dissuade him: there was still plenty to do around here besides selling people books.  In fact, the more he did now, the more they’d be at their best for whenever anyone did decide to pop in and buy something.  For a start, there were still tons of unpacked boxes of books in his apartment above the bookshop, and now was as good a time as any for a clear-out.

He had, of course, brought all of his books with him when he’d moved out, but not all of them had been destined to end up on his brand new, mahogany, wall-spanning bookshelves.  These were the rejects.  Books he’d bought but never finished, books he had different copies of that were nicer, books from his childhood that hadn’t been touched in years… and, he concluded, there was really no point in hoarding them all like this when they could be finding new homes.  Theoretically.  He’d at least like to give them the option.

They were easy enough to find in his spare room, which one day he’d like to turn into either an extended library or extended wardrobe (maybe both!) but which was currently piled high with boxes upon boxes: and not just filled with books, but with plenty of other things Mary hadn’t wanted cluttering up the place, that Stede didn’t exactly know what to do with either.  Some of the uglier family heirlooms, and such.  Maybe if his bookshop ever got off the ground, he could start selling antiques as well, in a little backroom.  Expand his enterprise.  But for now, he might as well stick with his main export.  So he lifted the closest box up from the ground (only groaning slightly under the strain, and certainly not hurting himself in any way… he was flexible, remember!) and began the journey downstairs, box tucked up under his chin to keep it secure.  After a slight struggle with the door at the bottom of the stairs, he re-entered the shop, where Oluwande was working and Lucius was fiddling with his pager (one of his boyfriends had been beeping him all damn morning, a noise which Stede certainly hadn’t found incredibly irritating).  But they both looked up at him as he entered, probably because he was huffing and puffing quite a bit.

“…I didn’t think there were any more boxes,” Oluwande said in confusion as his eyes followed Stede across the room, probably because there was very little point in ordering more books for delivery when their shelves were already full enough.

“Don’t worry, these are mine,” Stede said, dumping the box down onto the closest table with a resounding thud, and letting out a breath of relief as his arms were released of their burden.  “But there’s a mix in here, so let’s get to work sorting them!”

The shelves in his bookstore were organised by genre, and then alphabetically within those genres.  Stede had visited many a used bookstore in his time that had absolutely no system whatsoever, books strewn about all over the place, as though just because they weren’t brand new, they didn’t deserve a proper filing system.  But he liked to think that his place could be a cut above the rest, meticulously organised and easy to find exactly what you wanted.  So, he, Lucius and Oluwande began sorting the contents of this box into separate stacks on the table, ready to take to their designated shelves.

“Lot of kids books,” Oluwande observed as he added another book to what was fast becoming the tallest pile, giving Stede a look that was almost pointed.

“Yes, plenty in here from my childhood,” Stede said casually.  “Gathering dust, and all.”

“Sure you don’t wanna keep them?” Oluwande checked.  “Y’know, for… your kids?”

Hmph.  Apparently the pointed look had graduated into pointed words, and Stede found himself feeling extremely pointed at.  “Alma and Louis are a bit too old for fairytales now,” he replied tightly.  And we’re not getting up to much bedtime reading these days anyway.  Though that was, admittedly, one of the things he missed the most about spending time with them.  He knew he hadn’t always been the most attentive father, but that had been one way he’d felt able to be himself around them: sharing his passion for reading and getting to do all the silly voices that made them laugh.  It was one of the few ways he’d actually felt like he was succeeding, doing what he was supposed to.  And he’d tried to replicate those nights over the phone since moving away, but it wasn’t the same, not least because his children were already moving beyond that sort of thing.  They could read their own books, if they wanted.  They didn’t really need him anymore.

“Woah, is this one of those really creepy versions where, like, Cinderella’s stepsisters chop bits of their feet off?” Lucius asked, craning his neck to look at the latest book Olu had added to that pile.

“How old do you think I am, Lucius?” Stede demanded – though he supposed that was the sort of thing his father would have gotten him to read.  “They’re from the 50s, not the bloody 1800s.”

“Same difference,” Lucius shrugged, before resting both hands on top of the table between them.  “What’s the deal, then?”

“What’s the deal with what?” Stede asked.

Lucius’ eyes flicked down to the cardboard box, and then back up at Stede.  “Why did you bring all of these down here?”

“Because this is a used bookshop, Lucius,” Stede reminded him, picking up one of the paperbacks from the box and waving it in his face.  “For used books.”

“So you don’t think you’re, like… throwing away all the old parts of yourself like some kind of demented spring cleaning because you’re getting in your head about meeting someone new?”

“No, Lucius, I don’t think that!” Stede bristled.  “For a start, it’s not even spring!  Now, less chatter and let’s get back to work, shall we?”

Lucius held up his hands in surrender, and returned to sifting through the books.  Thankfully, he didn’t push his little theory any more, which Stede was glad of, because it was extremely presumptuous and utterly ridiculous… although he supposed he could understand why Lucius may have reached that conclusion.  It was even something he’d considered himself when he was writing his personal ad: how to hint at parts of his past without scaring anybody off.  And he’d felt satisfied he’d reached a balance – after all, the point of the ad was to tantalise, not unload everything all at once.

But now that it was out there, he’d had plenty of time to think about it, and while initially, his worries had been whether anybody would actually write in at all, what he was starting to worry about now was what would happen if they did write in.  When he actually met them, and they got to know him, more than what was written in that tiny little advertisement.  Like the ex-wife and two kids he didn’t really know how to relate to anymore, both of which had been conspicuously absent from his ad.  Because, well, the thing was only supposed to be short!  You couldn’t be detailed with such little room!  Which, admittedly, had maybe been part of the appeal.  Back when he was a kid, pouring through ad after ad, trying to make connections between them, his overactive imagination had been able to fill in the gaps.  He wondered if people were doing that with his ad.  And he wondered if they’d be disappointed when they met him in person.

That wasn’t why he was getting rid of his old books, though.  That was completely unrelated.  He’d been meaning to do it for ages.  As for why he was finally doing it now, well… if he was being honest, more than anything else, it was a way of keeping busy.  Distracting himself from something else that’d been on his mind… essentially, three days had passed since he had last stepped foot in Kraken Coffee, and he was beginning to experience withdrawal.  And not from the caffeine.  But his last interaction with Ed had been cruelly cut short, and he didn’t want to keep distracting him at his workplace, especially when there were no actual updates to give him.  Stede just wanting someone to chat to wasn’t worth that someone getting in trouble again, because Ed may have seemed unbothered by the whole thing (he’d even snapped back at his boss, which was very brave!) but Stede knew that actions like that could have consequences.  To be honest, he was mildly terrified he’d return to find that Ed had been fired, and how would he ever see him again after that?!  They hadn’t exchanged contact details, their only link was this coffee shop.  Maybe he could put out a new personal ad, ‘selfish idiot seeking the new friend he accidentally got sacked’, and hope that Ed would see it, and then he could properly apologise to him.  Maybe help find him some new work at a slow-moving bookshop, or something.

His other, probably more conventional option, was to casually pop by and see if Ed was still there.  He didn’t have to stick around, he could just grab a drink to go – and if he did spot Ed, he could certainly wave hello and sigh in relief, but there was no need to linger.  The issue there, of course, was that just popping in and grabbing a drink to go had been his plan last time, and they’d wound up chatting anyway.  He found that Ed was very easy to chat to, and wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop himself if the opportunity presented itself again, which brought him back to square one.  And yes, he was well aware that it was very silly for a grown man to be overthinking things this much, but he didn’t have much experience with this type of social interaction – he’d been dragged headfirst into Lucius’ friendship group, but that had been different.  He hadn’t needed to initiate things in the same way, and he didn’t feel the same urge to… be around them all that much.  Ed was different.  There was something about him that Stede felt drawn to, and now he was at war with himself about it.  A tad dramatic, maybe, but Stede wasn’t exactly known for being understated.

Which was why, when opportunity came knocking, he took it.

“What about you Stede?” Lucius asked, seemingly apropos of nothing.

“Hmm?” Stede asked, coming out from behind the bookshelf he’d been stacking and the thoughts he’d been getting lost in.

“Doing a coffee run,” Lucius said, motioning vaguely towards the outside world, “you want anything?”

“NO!” Stede exclaimed, probably a little too aggressively judging by the way Lucius almost jumped out of his skin.  “I mean, yes, thank you,” he quickly corrected, a bit more calmly, “but I’ll get it.”

“Nah, that’s cool, I’m already heading out,” Lucius said, reaching for the door handle.

“No you’re not,” Stede corrected, before he could take another step.  “I’m the boss, I should be buying the coffee.”

“…Okayyyy, no complaints from me,” Lucius relented easily, slinking away from the door and already removing his jacket, and Stede felt his heart rate return to normal.  (Jesus, he hadn’t even realised it had been pounding so hard.  What the hell had gotten into him?)  “I’ll take an espresso, Olu’s having hot chocolate.”

“With the orange syrup, if they’ve got it,” Oluwande put in.

“Oh, and some of those blueberry muffins,” Lucius added with a satisfied smirk.  “Since you’re paying.”

“Righteo then,” Stede said, straightening his jacket, glad to see that this new plan had its advantages for both parties.  “Back in a minute.”

He could feel the two of them giving him kind of bemused looks as he strode out of the door like a man on a mission, which he couldn’t exactly blame them for, but come on, he wasn’t about to miss this golden opportunity, this genuine excuse to go to Kraken Coffee.  This was external justification, and that was apparently all he needed.  When he arrived at the coffee shop, though, he had to ignore the sinking feeling when he didn’t spot Ed right away.  After all, he never spotted him right away – the man just appeared out of thin air every time, which was maybe a flaw in this little pop-in-and-out plan.  He supposed he could ask the barista taking his order if Ed was here, but one familiar face he had spotted was that of the angry boss standing very much within earshot, and he didn’t want to incur his wrath.  Besides, maybe Ed would materialise just in time to hand him his coffees, like he did before, and he could stop worrying.

Only this time, he didn’t.  Some other barista did, and Stede accepted them with a polite smile, trying not to show how downtrodden he felt.  He’d hoped this little trip would lift his mood, not drag it down further, but here he was, about to go back to the bookshop none the wiser and none the merrier.  But as he turned around, intending to head back towards the door, he spotted the armchair in the corner.  His armchair.  Empty.  Calling him.  Hmm, maybe he could sit down for a couple of minutes, let the drinks cool a bit… it was only a short walk back to the bookshop, and he didn’t want Lucius or Olu sipping at their espresso and hot chocolate too soon and burning their tongues.  Yes, he’d better just… settle into the armchair for a little while… people-watch a bit… maybe keep an eye out for anything interesting happening around him…

“That’s a lot of coffee for just one man.”

Immediately, Stede felt a weight lift off his shoulders, as he turned to find the man of the hour standing above him – and still in his work apron, which meant Stede hadn’t utterly ruined his career at all.  “Oh, hello Ed!” he found himself beaming.  “No updates, I’m afraid,” he added, nice and breezy, already mentally preparing to force himself up from his chair and get out of here with his mood significantly boosted, exactly like he’d planned.

But Ed clearly had other ideas.  “S’alright,” he said, “just wanna chat.”  And then he was dragging another chair over to sit right across from Stede’s again, just like the evening they’d spent in here after hours, and already this was seeming like a big risk.

“But… won’t you get in trouble with your boss again?” Stede asked in a hushed tone, because things may not be as busy today, but this was a little more extreme than a quick chat by the counter, and the man really was just over there.

Ed seemed characteristically unbothered, though.  “Nah,” he said simply.  “Gave him a good talking to.”

“Wow, really?” Stede asked, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah,” Ed smirked, “he knows this place won’t run without me.”

“Well, good on you!” Stede said, glad to hear that Ed had been able to assert himself like that.  “I’ve worked for some terrible bosses in my time, let me tell you, and I’d have saved myself an awful lot of grief if I’d managed to stand up to them earlier.”

“Oh yeah?” Ed asked, shifting a bit in his chair like he was making himself comfortable.  “Where’d you work?”

“My father’s company,” Stede said, wrinkling his nose.  “He was actually one of the terrible bosses.  And then there were my direct supervisors, who liked to very much lord over me that they were more in charge than I was of my own family business.  Not that I even wanted to work at the damned place… but I’m out of there now!” he announced, deciding to finish on a cheery note.

Ed leaned in a little, like all of Stede’s rambling had actually been interesting.  “What happened?” he asked, probably wondering whether Stede had quit or been fired.  To be honest, it was a fair question, because it probably gone either way… but Stede was pleased to inform him that it had been entirely his decision.

“I quit,” he grinned.  “Quite dramatically.  Caused a bit of a scene, actually.”

“No, you?” Ed asked, immediately grinning back at him.

“Really, I’d been wanting to leave ever since I started,” Stede admitted, “but hadn’t felt like I could.  Then I got divorced, and suddenly I realised… I didn’t have to stay trapped anymore.  I could free myself.”  He didn’t mention just how long he’d remained trapped there before that point, well over half his life, because that made things sound a bit less exciting.  Though there was still the specific details to get to, which would hopefully add a bit more colour to the story.  “And I was going to do it all properly, official channels, very formal,” he went on, “but then one of my supervisors, this horrible little man called Nigel, was making comments on the divorce, and had the nerve to bring up my children, and I just snapped.”

“Snapped how?” Ed asked eagerly.

“I threw my coffee at him,” Stede said, a giggle slipping out as the memory came back to him as clear as day.  “It wasn’t hot or anything, but it did get all over his ugly shirt, that was satisfying.  Oh, and I stole a whole box of stationary, just walked on out the door with it.  I actually considered setting something on fire, too, but I didn’t have a light, and once I’d left I didn’t really want to go back in.  But I set my badge on fire when I got home, just to really stick it to them all.”

“You’re a fucking wildcard, mate,” Ed said, looking positively delighted.  “Just don’t spread all this about, nobody’ll hire you ever again.”

“Oh, I don’t need to worry about that – once I left, I opened up my own business,” Stede said proudly, because despite its total lack of customers, he still considered actually opening the place to be one of his greatest achievements.  “A used bookshop.  We’re local, actually, just a couple of streets along.”

“Hang on,” Ed cut in, “you mean… you mean Bonnet’s Bookery?”

“You’ve heard of us?” Stede asked in genuine surprise, because he hadn’t realised word had spread beyond its front door.

“Heard all about you, man,” Ed nodded, grin spreading across his face.  “Great fucking name.”

“Ha!  You might be the only person but me who thinks so,” Stede said wryly.  “It tends to confuse people.  Several people have stepped in thinking it’s a bakery – I mean, can’t they see the books in the window?  And a couple of teens have made some uncouth jokes about…”

“Buggery?” Ed asked, his smile turning a tad guilty now.  “To be honest, mate, that’s kinda what I thought the first time I heard it.”

For some reason, it didn’t bother Stede nearly as much, coming from Ed.  In fact, if anything, it made him feel comfortable enough to let out a little admission of his own.  “To be honest,” he said, lowering his voice, “I thought this place was called Cracking Coffee.”

“Fucking hell,” Ed laughed, rocking back in his chair, eyes crinkling in delight.  “Either we’re both shit at naming things or we both need to get our ears checked.”

“Whichever it is, clearly we’re made for each other,” Stede laughed back at him, before his brain caught up with what Ed had actually said.  “Wait… hang on, you named this place?”

“Mmhm,” Ed nodded, leaning forward again, looking at him intently.

“You mean, you’re…” Stede trailed off, frankly too ashamed to even ask the question.

Luckily, Ed seemed to know exactly what he was getting at.  “The Kraken?” he asked, mischief dancing in his eyes.  “Yep.”

“Well,” Stede said flatly.  “This is embarrassing.”  Because really, how had he not realised by now that this was Ed’s coffee shop?  He supposed the angry man shouting at him had had something to do with it, but really, Stede should have figured it out before now.  Who else would be able to stay back with him well after closing?  Who else would get away with spending so much of his shift just sitting and chatting?  Of course Ed was the owner.

“I get it,” Ed said, settling back in his chair with a smirk.  “I look too cool to own a coffee shop, right?”

“You do, actually,” Stede admitted.  “Whereas I must look like a complete idiot.”

“Nah,” Ed said at once.  “You do look like you own a bookshop, though.”

Stede chuckled a little nervously.  “Is that a good thing?”

“Absolutely,” Ed nodded.  “Fuckin’ love your outfits.  And those glasses.”

“Oh!” Stede found himself saying, reaching up to touch the side of the wire-rimmed glasses he’d spent much of his childhood being bullied for, by the very same man he’d eventually thrown coffee on.  “I always felt like they made me look old.”

“Refined,” Ed countered, staring him straight in the eye – or perhaps just looking at the glasses.  “Intellectual.”

“Well,” Stede flushed, trying not to look too pleased with himself, and not sure he was succeeding.  “Clearly all that time spent straining my eyes in the dark was worth it!”

“Fucking knew you were one of those kids who stayed up all night reading,” Ed said triumphantly, like this was something he’d actually thought about.

“Guilty,” Stede chuckled, though that was hardly an admission.  It was, as Ed had inferred, pretty obvious.  “My father always said I read too much.  Filling my head with fantasies.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” Ed said.  “Love a good fantasy.”

“I think that’s what first drew me to the personals, actually,” Stede mused.  “I mean, they were real, but they were so… out of my frame of reference, it was just like reading an excerpt from a book.  I’d sit there and imagine what all of these people were getting up to, out there in the city.  Meeting up, falling in love, having adventures… I don’t know, it probably wasn’t as exciting as all that, but it kept me invested.”

“Bit Desperately Seeking Susan, eh?” Ed asked with a grin.

“…Who’s Susan?” Stede asked, the string of words Ed had just said not quite making sense in his brain.

“Aw, mate, you’ve never seen it?” Ed asked, looking genuinely surprised.  “Great movie, you’d fucking love it.  Right up your alley.  I’ve actually got the video back at my place, if you wanna…”

“You’d lend it to me?” Stede asked eagerly, admittedly a little excited that their friendship was already progressing to exchanging things like video tapes.

“Yeah, I could… lend it, yeah,” Ed said.  “If that’s what you want.”

“That sounds lovely,” Stede smiled, resisting the bizarre urge to reach out and touch Ed’s hand in gratitude.  He wasn’t usually that much of a touchy-feely person, but this blossoming friendship was apparently bringing it out in him.  He managed to hold himself back, though, and simply used his words instead.  “Thank you, Ed.”

“Any time, mate.”

***

“Sooooo…” Lucius said, as he stared out of the bookshop window into the rapidly darkening world outside, “do you think he’s ever coming back with that coffee, or…?”

Chapter Text

Stede went by Kraken Coffee to pick up the movie the very next morning.  This time, he didn’t have to wait for Ed to mysteriously appear: they’d planned this, and Ed was already standing by the door, waiting to greet him with a smile and the video in hand.  Stede took it from him gratefully, and they chatted a little, cheerful small-talk about the weather (not so bad today) and what they’d had for breakfast (Ed’s fresh cinnamon buns stolen right off the counter sounded a lot more exciting than Stede’s marmalade on toast, but Ed insisted that he fucking loved marmalade and would, quote, eat that shit for brekkie anytime) but their conversation was sadly cut short by the morning rush of customers.

“Sorry man, gotta get back to my adoring fans,” Ed sighed, gesturing to the line that was almost out of the door.

“Oh yes, can’t keep them waiting,” Stede agreed, wishing that he had a line of customers that was almost out of the door.  He really ought to start asking Ed for some business tips.

“Anyway, enjoy the movie,” Ed said, before letting slip a grin.  “And then come back here and tell me how much you enjoyed it.”  And then he turned away and sauntered on back to the counter, wiggling his fingers in goodbye.

Stede smiled after him and then left the coffee shop clutching the video tape in his hands, giving it a proper look over now that he was no longer distracted.  The two extravagantly-dressed ladies on the cover already had him intrigued, especially when paired with the title.  He wondered which of these women was Susan, and who was seeking her, but he supposed he was soon to find out!  There was, of course, the slight issue that he didn’t actually own a VCR, something he’d quite forgotten until he’d agreed to borrow the movie from Ed and then realised he had no way to actually watch it.  This probably should have occurred to him earlier, but he wasn’t exactly used to people lending him things, and he’d been so excited by the opportunity that he hadn’t fully thought it through.  Ed would have a VCR, he supposed, but he couldn’t exactly invite himself over to his place.  He was sure Lucius would have one, but he knew it would also come with a million questions about where this video had come from, and that didn’t exactly jive with Stede’s whole privacy plan.  And an attempt to ask anybody else in that group would only lead back to Lucius finding out anyway.

So, instead, Stede opted to head direct from Kraken Coffee to the closest electronics store and buy one of his own – probably a sensible decision in the long run, for if the kids ever came over to visit, or if Ed had any more movie recommendations for him.  And then he carried his new acquisition all the way back to the bookshop, wishing he’d thought to mention the surprising strength of his arms when he’d written his personal ad, because they’d been getting a workout lately with all of these heavy boxes, and that was bound to impress people.  Maybe that could be the more pleasant surprise for when he actually met someone through the ads – yes, I may have been hiding the two kids, but I’ve also been hiding these bad boys!

But all of these thoughts left his mind when he carried the VCR in through the door to the bookshop where he’d left Oluwande alone, only to find… people.  People not Oluwande.  Well, he was there too, of course, but what was even more alarming was that he was serving these people.  Stede very nearly dropped his new purchase on the floor in surprise, staring across the room with wide eyes as the two individuals handed Oluwande money, picked up some books, and bid their goodbyes, barely even acknowledging the open-mouthed man by the door, clinging onto a boxed VCR for dear life, as they walked right past him and out into the street.

Stede waited for the sound of the door shutting behind him before he said a word.

“Olu!  Did you know them?” he stage-whispered, in case there was anybody else around to hear – which, hell, at this rate, maybe there was!

Oluwande, to his credit, looked just as surprised by all of this as Stede felt.  “Never seen them before,” he confirmed, with a shake of his head.

“What did they buy?” Stede whispered next, as if speaking fully out loud would somehow break the spell and transport him back into the reality of an empty bookshop.

“Uh, a couple of romances and a really old copy of Don Quixote.”

“Wow!” Stede breathed out.  “Imagine that!”

“I know,” Oluwande chuckled, before apparently only just noticing the large box held in Stede’s arms.  “Do you need a hand with, uh… whatever that is?” he asked warily.

“Hmm?  Oh, it’s just a video player, don’t worry about it,” Stede brushed off, rushing eagerly over to the counter and setting it down.  “Now, tell me more about these customers!”

It turned out there was very little else to say: they’d walked in through the door, wandered around a bit, and bought some books.  Not very eventful, but still, Stede couldn’t believe he’d missed them.  Served him right for running a personal errand during work hours he supposed.  He made sure to stick around all day just in case any more turned up, but none did.  Which was… fine.  Those two were probably a fluke.  But maybe they’d come back!  They’d looked like satisfied customers, and Stede had no doubt that Olu had delivered excellent service.  Besides, he reminded himself, he had something else to look forward to today, after the bookshop was closed.  Once he figured out exactly how to hook up his brand-new VCR.

***

Desperately Seeking Susan, it turned out, was a delight (and entirely worth the hour that Stede spent trying to plug the damn device in correctly after being too embarrassed to ring Lucius for help).  He could of course immediately understand why Ed had recommended it to him, and had to admit he saw himself in Roberta, even if he’d never quite gone that far with his personal ad fixation.  Nor had he just so happened to stumble upon a handsome man to fall in love with by pure happenstance, although that part was certainly aspirational.  He could probably do without the whole amnesia thing, though, that sounded far too complicated.  What made for a good movie didn’t necessarily translate into real life, and getting hit on the head so hard you forgot your identity was decidedly one of those things.

Eager to tell Ed all of his thoughts, he returned to Kraken Coffee bright and early the next morning, VHS in hand.  He tried to come early enough to avoid the rush this time, and to allow get back to his own workplace in time for opening, because he didn’t want to run the risk of missing any potential customers two days in a row.  Of course, he hadn’t actually told Ed exactly when he’d planned to return, so he wasn’t there to meet him at the door this time… but he was in sight, there behind the counter, shifting things around.

“Morning, Ed!” Stede called cheerily as he burst in through the door, noticing someone in his peripheral vision jumping in alarm at the volume of his voice.  “Just came by to drop off your video,” he announced, in a slightly more level tone.

Ed had looked up as soon as he entered, and his face was already brightening as Stede approached him.  “What’d you think, did you like it?” he asked, as if that was even a question.

“Oh, I loved it,” Stede gushed.

“Knew you would,” Ed replied, his voice only a tiny big smug.

Stede raised his eyebrows innocently as he came to a stop in front of him.  “Now, why on earth would you think a thing like that?” he teased.

“Just a hunch,” Ed said, voice casual as he leaned back against the wall.  “Intuitive, me.”

“Well, it certainly struck a chord,” Stede said, putting the VHS down on the counter.  “I just hope you don’t think I spend my time stalking cool strangers I read about in the newspaper, because I’m not that extreme.”

“Yeah, nah, it’s a pretty big leap from your whole thing,” Ed agreed, but then smirked.  “Lemme know if you ever end up with amnesia, though, I’ll help you out.”

“Hang on, how can I let you know I have amnesia when I won’t even remember you?” Stede asked, already seeing several flaws in this plan.

“Dunno, maybe you’ll end up coming here on instinct,” Ed shrugged.  “Muscle memory.  And then you’ll see me pouring coffee and think, now that looks like a guy who knows how to deal with amnesia.”

“I can only hope I’m dressed in such a great outfit when this happens,” Stede said, veering off course slightly here, but the fashion had predictably been one of his favourite parts of the movie, so he had to bring it up at some point.

Fortunately, it seemed he and Ed had that in common.  “Heh, I DIY’d myself one of those pyramid jackets back in the day,” he said, and Stede had to hold back on an actual gasp.

“Wow!” he said instead, which was only slightly less dramatic – but a worthy response, in his opinion.  “I’d like to see you in that.”

“Maybe I’ll dig it out for you,” Ed offered, and Stede really hoped he would, because it sounded just wonderful.  He could picture Ed wearing it already.  “Just hope it still fits,” Ed went on, chuckling awkwardly.  “I’ve put on a few pounds since then.  That’s what cinnamon buns for breakfast does for you.”

“Well, they are delicious,” Stede pointed out, because he’d sampled plenty of the goodies on offer at this coffee shop, and whoever baked them deserved a raise.  “Besides, we’ve got to have our little indulgences, haven’t we?” he added, eyebrows lifting.  “They’re what make life worth living.”

“Yeah, that’s… a good way to put it,” Ed said, his expression giving way to another smile.

Stede smiled back at him, glad that his intended message seemed to have gotten through: not that he would ever tell anybody what to eat, but he hoped Ed felt happy eating as many sweet things as he wanted for the rest of his life, a few extra pounds be damned.

“Anyway, I’ve gotta run,” Stede said, as he checked his watch and confirmed that it was just about time for the bookshop to open.  “We had some customers yesterday, and I’m not planning on missing any more today.  I’ll see you later, Ed!”  He was about to turn and head out of the door, when he suddenly spun back around.  “Actually, can I grab two cinnamon buns to go?  You’ve got me in the mood.”

Ed gave a nod, smile widening.  “On the house, mate.”

***

As it turned out, Stede needn’t have rushed. 

He spent the morning munching at his cinnamon buns with Lucius, looking over at the door every 20 seconds or so, just in case.  Lucius kept on rolling his eyes and telling him not to get his hopes up – but then, he hadn’t seemed to entirely believe Stede when he’d told him there’d been customers yesterday, like Stede would make something like that up for the sake of morale.  But by midday, Lucius was eating his words (which were probably not as tasty as the cinnamon bun) because somebody entered the shop.  And it wasn’t even one of the people from yesterday, but somebody totally different.  Somebody new.  Stede put his hands on his hips, looking at Lucius with triumph – but the boy still wasn’t convinced, leaning in sidewards to speak to him.

“Hasn’t bought anything, yet,” he reminded him under his breath, giving Stede flashbacks to the let-down of the Mills & Boon lady who’d done nothing more than browse the shelves and then abandon him.

Still, he would not be brought down by Lucius’ negative energy.  “Give it time,” he replied, speaking through his teeth.

And true enough, time was all they needed.  After vanishing into the shelves for five minutes (and after Lucius had managed to convince Stede not to follow him and scare him off with offers of assistance) the dreadlocked man in the striped shirt emerged with a book and approached the counter.

“Ah, excellent choice!” Stede exclaimed, though he hadn’t even looked at the cover yet.  “Would you like a bag?”

“Nah, I’m good.”

“Wonderful, and are you paying cash or card?”

“Card.”

Lucius chose this exact moment to lean right into Stede’s space.  “Uhhhh, the card machine isn’t working, boss,” he interjected, grimacing slightly.

“…So sorry, our card machine isn’t working!” Stede repeated for the sake of their customer, feeling his eye twitch slightly.  “Will cash be alright?”

The man, looking a bit put-out by now, rooted around in his wallet for a note, while Stede leaned over to speak to Lucius in frustration.

“Why am I only just hearing about this?” he hissed, because if Lucius had known about the card machine before now, then he really ought to have said something.

“I don’t know, we’ve never needed it before,” Lucius whispered back at him.  “It was basically just decoration anyway.”

And Stede had one or two thoughts about that, but fortunately, the man soon produced some cash, and Stede went back into customer-service mode, taking the money from him and opening up the till, which thankfully was functioning.

“I hope you enjoy your book!” he said cheerily, as he handed both it and the customer’s change over.  And while he still had his attention, he decided to do some digging.  “By the way, before you head out, do you mind if I ask how you heard about us?”

“Uhhhhh,” the man said.  “Dunno, just did.”

“Right,” Stede nodded, not entirely thrilled with the vagueness of this answer, but not about to push it and scare off his newfound customer base, especially not after the card machine debacle.  “Well, come again!”

In the lull that followed, he had Lucius design a Card Machine Temporarily Broken, Cash Only sign to put up on the counter, so they at least looked like they were aware of what was going on in their own shop.  Lucius took a few artistic liberties, and the calligraphy that ensued wasn’t exactly the easiest to read, but Stede appreciated both the effort and the whimsy.  Just a shame he’d probably have to read it out loud to people anyway, which kind of defeated the purpose.  Luckily, the next customer that came in (yes, that same day! Bonnet’s Bookery was really taking off!) was ready to pay with cash anyway, so this transaction went by a lot smoother.  But when Stede optimistically tried again to find out where this sudden boost in business was coming from, her response was even stranger than the last guy’s.

“Oh, I can’t tell you.”

“…Excuse me?” Stede asked, because surely he couldn’t have heard that right.

But apparently she wasn’t in the mood for clarification.  “See ya!” she waved, darting out of the bookshop as though she’d been caught stealing something, and Stede looked across at Lucius to check he wasn’t the only one who found that weird.

“Well, that was weird,” Lucius said flatly.

Okay, so not the only one.

But he supposed it didn’t matter where they’d heard about the bookstore – just that they had.  And as the days went by, it seemed that more and more people were hearing about it.  Students, little old ladies, couples, families: people from all walks of life, coming into his store and making purchases.  In the space of a week, they’d gone from dead as a doornail to… not quite bustling, but still, multiple customers each day!  And some of them, Stede couldn’t help but notice, were carrying take-out cups with little octopuses on them.  Which may just have been a coincidence – Kraken Coffee was just around the corner, after all – but Stede did have to wonder if they were being directed this way.  If Ed remembered what it was like to be a new business owner trying to get started, and was sending some of his customers along to Bonnet’s Bookery.  What a lovely thought.  What a lovely man.  Stede could hardly believe he’d been so mortified during their first interaction that he’d actually run away and even considered not going back again.  He could have missed out on so much!  And not just the increase in custom, although that was nice, but everything else that came with knowing Ed.

He went to Kraken Coffee every day now, just as soon as the bookshop closed, because he couldn’t afford to be away from it during the day anymore.  This meant, of course, that it was closing hours for the coffee shop, too, but that didn’t really matter.  He and Ed would sit in their chairs when everybody else was gone, just the two of them, music playing quietly in the background as they talked into the evening about whatever caught their fancy.  Stede would tell Ed all about whatever he was currently reading, and soon they were recommending books and movies and music back and forth until they both had lists as long as their arms.  Ed would ask him for tips on how to keep the new plants around the coffee shop alive, ‘cause he knew shit-all about nature but wanted to liven up the place.  Stede talked about all the trips he wanted to go on now he wasn’t restricted to places Mary could tolerate, and Ed would tell him crazy stories about his adventures across the world that had his sides splitting with laughter.

They even talked about real stuff.  Like how much Stede missed his kids – moving away had been the right choice, the fresh start had been necessary, but phone calls and occasional visits back home were a poor substitute, and he did fear the connection would soon be completely lost to time and distance, and it would all be his fault.  Ed didn’t have any kids, but he had been one, and he insisted that as long as Stede cared, he was doing something right.  (Stede wasn’t entirely convinced by this, but it was kind of Ed to say so.)  In turn, he learned things about Ed’s past.  Like his father who hadn’t cared, and his mother who had.  Both gone now, like Stede’s parents, but the loss of Ed’s mother had hit him the hardest.  She was one of the reasons he’d finally got himself together and opened up this place, after a few personal detours along the way (which he was incredibly vague about, and Stede made sure not to ask any further questions until he was sure Ed wanted to answer them).  He’d wanted to do something to honour her, recreate the kind of comfort she’d managed to scrape together from nothing for him, and he’d figured this was the best way for him to do it: hot drinks, good food, big fucking armchairs, whatever worked.  In many ways, it was the opposite reason Stede had struck out on his own, which had been his own belated way of acting out against his parents, leaving the family business in the dirt to pursue something he actually cared about.  His motivation had been a healthy combo of passion and spite, but it seemed that Ed’s was very different.

And Stede could feel it as he sat here with him, sharing a slice of the brand-new marmalade cake their in-house baker had just added to his repertoire.  He could feel it when the music played softly over the speakers and he realised it was one of the tapes he’d lent Ed when they were swapping favourites.  He could feel it in the way that Ed would pile their hot chocolates so high with cream that it’d end up on both of their noses, and that would just be another thing for them to laugh over as they talked into the night.  He did feel comforted, in a way he hadn’t really felt anywhere else, with anybody else.  Then again, maybe that was just because he’d never had a friendship like this before.  It wasn’t the same with Lucius, or Oluwande, or any of their friends that were sort-of Stede’s friends but not really.  They didn’t get him like Ed did.  It almost felt like more… which was silly, because in their very first conversation, Ed had sat down and helped him finish an ad to meet somebody else, so he obviously didn’t see him that way, and Stede really ought to nip that kind of thinking in the bud before he let it spiral into one of his silly little fantasies.  Still.  It was good to have company, even platonic company.  Lucius had been right about that, at least – it was just nice to have someone to talk to, someone to spend his time with, someone to look forward to spending his time with.  He had been lonely for a long, long while, even when there were other people around, and he’d never quite understood why he’d always felt like something was missing.  But maybe, all this time, what he’d really needed was a friend like Ed.

Chapter Text

1993

“Stede, I want a divorce.”

To be honest, up until that moment, Stede hadn’t even known that divorce was an option.  Yes, he knew people got divorced, he just didn’t think he was… people.  But no other part of this marriage had been up to him, so he shouldn’t have been surprised that even its end came as a shock.

“You what?” he asked anyway, just to be sure he’d heard right – he had a tendency to zone out a little sometimes, especially when Mary was talking.  Maybe he’d missed something.  Maybe she wanted a horse.  That sounded a bit like divorce.

“I’ve met someone else,” Mary continued, by way of explanation.

That someone else, it had turned out, was the painting instructor she’d been going to for months.  Or was it years?  Stede couldn’t recall.  What he could recall was how they’d gotten in touch to begin with – an ad in the paper for private art classes.  Stede had to laugh.  Of course he’d only ever looked at newspaper pages and fantasised about the lives other people were leading, while Mary had actually gone ahead and become one of them.  He couldn’t say he resented her for it… he envied her, more than anything.  She’d taken the plunge, taken a risk, and found someone that actually made her happy.  Clearly that kind of life, that kind of love, was actually out there for some people.

You just had to be brave enough to go for it.

1995

It was almost a surprise when the letters arrived.  To be honest, Stede had almost forgotten he was waiting for them.  He’d been so occupied the past couple of weeks, with the bookshop, and everything.  But no, here they were, poking through his letterbox.  They, as in multiple!  Multiple people had read Stede’s ad and thought he sounded appealing enough to write to!  That was cause enough for excitement, even if there was still some trepidation as to what exactly he was in for.

He carried them to his desk, along with his morning cup of tea and marmalade on toast, and spread them all out on the table before him.  After a fortifying sip of tea and a deep breath, he tore each of them open.  From a quick glance across the different pages, he could see that they all varied in length, but each of them was longer than his initial ad.  They even came with photos, which he guiltily looked at first, and he was glad he did, because he actually recognised one of the men on sight: Jeffrey Fettering, an old schoolmate.  Not one of the horrible ones, thankfully, but they hadn’t exactly kept in touch, aside from bumping into each other from time to time.  Stede hadn’t even realised Jeffrey was interested in men, though he couldn’t pretend it came as a complete surprise.  Still, after a brief feeling of solidarity, he decided to completely ignore this letter, certain he couldn’t handle a single date with somebody who’d been around for that part of his life, especially if they wanted to talk about it.  Besides, he seemed to remember finding him a bit annoying.

With Jeffrey’s letter firmly set aside, he read through the others.  There was a seemingly friendly chap who was apparently a former officer in the Navy, which suited Stede’s love of the ocean but didn’t quite align with his feelings on the military.  Then there was a man wondering if he’d be interested in a… group scenario (Stede’s words, not his) who came across uncannily like the guy putting out those ads looking for multiple men to make magic with.  Well, same fellow or not, he wasn’t going to be making magic with Stede, that was for certain.  Which just left Richard, who added in brackets to call him Ricky, which felt a bit silly when he could have just introduced himself as Ricky to begin with.  Still, of all of them, he was probably the one who had the most in common with Stede.  He mentioned an interest in books and fashion, talked about fine dining… he even sailed, which Stede had to admit he found exciting, even if owning a yacht was a bit of a rich guy cliché.

So yes, this letter was a marked improvement from the others.  But even so, Stede couldn’t help but feel… disappointed by what he’d read.  He supposed that was natural, when you built something up in your head, but the thing was, he hadn’t really been building it up all that much.  He’d barely even been thinking about the ad this past week or so, and yet he still felt a certain kind of way about the letters laid out in front of him, sprinkled lightly with toast crumbs.  Because if these men were responding directly to what Stede had said he wanted, then he should want them, shouldn’t he?  Or at the very least, be more willing to entertain the idea.  Of course, some of them had missed the mark entirely, but as for the others… was he being too picky?  Had his ad simply failed at its purpose and attracted the wrong crowd?  Or was this all just further proof that he was destined never to find romance at all?  Ed, he considered, would have the answers to all of these questions.  If he was here right now, he’d probably say something that would lift Stede’s spirits, make him rethink the whole thing entirely.  But Stede wouldn’t be seeing him until the evening… for now, he had to get himself out of his robe and into his clothes, head downstairs to sell some books, and try to put the whole thing out of his mind for the duration of his shift.

Easier said than done, it turned out, when Lucius was there.

“Soooooo, what’s been going on with your personal ad?” he asked lazily, during their very first lull between customers.  “Anyone snatched you up yet?”  Bloody typical of him to bring it all up right when Stede didn’t want to think about it, let alone talk about it!  The boy must be a mind-reader.

“Well, the letters arrived this morning,” Stede responded vaguely, as he went at one of the bookshelves with a feather duster just to have something to do.

“You’ve been keeping that quiet,” Lucius commented, and Stede could practically hear the smirk on his face even if he couldn’t see it.  “Go on then, spill.”

“A gentleman never tells,” Stede said primly, not quite ready to admit how underwhelmed he’d been by them all, and figuring that a coy response would go a long way.

“Alright,” Lucius replied, “but if you find your dream man, you owe me a hundred quid.”

“Duly noted,” Stede said, not sure that made him feel any better.

“And if you finally get laid, you owe me five hundred.”

Funnily enough, that didn’t make Stede feel much better either.  To be honest, it even had him reconsidering whether he wanted to tell Ed about the letters after all.  He’d been so supportive when Stede was writing his ad, and Stede would hate to let him down with this complete anticlimax of an outcome.  But it was two weeks since the ad had gone out, and if Ed’s memory was as sharp as Stede was willing to bet it was, then he’d probably be expecting to hear an update sometime soon, and it didn’t feel right to leave him hanging either.  Stede didn’t know what to do.  To be honest, he was now kind of hoping Ed would be the one to bring it up, which was a little ironic considering how frustrated he’d been when Lucius had done that very thing… but it would at least take the burden away from him.

Unfortunately, by the time he headed out to meet up with Ed that evening, he still hadn’t made up his mind about how to approach it all – which, frankly, was only causing more problems.  Seeing Ed was usually the break in his day, his time to relax and unwind, but as they sat there together that evening, all he could think about were the damned letters!  He’d hoped it wasn’t too obvious that he wasn’t fully focusing on what Ed was saying tonight, but he feared it might be, and that was only confirmed when he felt something tap against his foot.  He turned his gaze downwards to find that it was Ed’s foot nudging up against his, like he was trying to get his attention.

“Hmm?” he murmured, looking up from their shoes to face Ed, who was already looking back at him in concern.

“You alright, mate?” he asked, eyebrows creased.

“Oh, yes,” Stede reassured him, wondering just how much he must’ve been zoned out that Ed had needed physical contact to break him out of it.  “Sorry, just thinking about… stuff.”

“What stuff would that be?” Ed pressed.

And this, Stede supposed, was his golden opportunity.  Ed might not be asking directly about the ad, but he was asking indirectly, and there was no use dancing around the topic when he’d been presented with a question.  He might as well just come out and say it, tell Ed exactly what was on his mind.  “I… got some letters,” he began, as casually as possible, as though he hadn’t been thinking about the damn things all day.  “From the newspaper.”

“Oh, yeah?” Ed asked, shifting in his seat.  “What do you, uh… what’re they like?  Anyone good?”

“I don’t know,” Stede sighed in defeat, running a hand through his hair.  “To be honest, I’m not sure what to think about any of them.”

Ed raised his eyebrows.  “Want a second opinion?”

“More than anything,” Stede admitted.  So he reached into the inside pocket of his coat (where he’d slotted the letters on his way out the door, just in case) and pulled them all out together.  He passed the little pile into Ed’s outstretched hand, and took several nervous sips of coffee as Ed went through them all one by one, reading each of them as thoroughly as he’d read Stede’s ad the first time.  Strangely, even though he hadn’t even written these ones, Stede felt even more embarrassed to have Ed look at them all directly in front of him.  He felt like he shouldn’t really be showing them to him, like it was some kind of faux pas… but Ed had offered, and Stede valued his opinion more than anybody’s.  He trusted him to read these letters and give his honest thoughts, which would hopefully lift Stede’s mood and set him back on track.  A few moments passed, his mind going a mile a minute wondering what Ed would think, what he would say, watching him like a hawk all the way up until Ed put the last letter down with an air of finality, looked up at Stede, and spoke. 

“You could do a lot better than any of these guys.”

Stede blinked.  “Really?” he asked, because of all the possibilities his mind had conjured up, that was honestly the last thing he’d expected to hear.

“Yep,” Ed nodded.

And Stede knew this was a compliment, and he really did appreciate it, but… somehow, it was the most disappointing thing of all.  Because as sweet as Ed was, his words were only validating Stede’s fears that this had all been for nothing, that none of these men would be the one for him, and if none of them were, then maybe nobody was.  “I thought Ricky sounded okay…” he said a little aimlessly, since he probably had been the best of the bunch.  Of all of them, he was the one to engage the most with what Stede had written in the ad, and while a lot of it had felt like he was just repeating Stede’s words back to him, at least he’d obviously liked what Stede had had to say about himself.  Which meant that at least somebody liked what Stede had had to say about himself.

“Sounds like a bit of a prat to me,” Ed said, but then he must have noticed some kind of expression on Stede’s face, because he straightened up.  “I mean, up to you, though.”

“No, you’re probably right,” Stede sighed, glancing down at the letters now resting on Ed’s lap.  “I’m probably just… desperate.  Seeing things that aren’t there.”

All at once, Ed’s face twisted into a frown.  “Aw, no, c’mon,” he said, picking up Ricky’s letter again, looking it over.  “Fuck.  He’s probably fine, actually,” he decided after a moment.

“You think?” Stede asked, perking up a little.

“Yeah,” Ed nodded.  “Reckon I was being a bit harsh.  He, uh, likes sailing.  That’s cool.”

This was true.  It was cool.  If you’d told Stede two weeks ago he’d wind up receiving a letter from a man who was interested in him and owned a yacht, he would have been over the moon.  So there was really no reason for him to be feeling so disappointed about it now, except for… well, Stede had said he wasn’t going to think about that, and he wasn’t.  He especially wasn’t going to think about it right this second, even if it was becoming harder and harder to ignore the possibility that maybe the reason he’d felt so disappointed this morning was that none of the men who had sent in a letter, even Ricky, were anywhere near as compelling as the man sitting opposite him.  But he wasn’t going to think about it, because it was all an exercise in futility: if Ed was remotely interested in Stede in that way, he could have written him a letter of his own.  He knew exactly where to find the ad – hell, he’d even mentioned spotting it!  But he hadn’t written anything, because he wasn’t interested.  He wanted Stede to find someone other than him.  Which was fine!  Stede had known that going in.  He certainly hadn’t expected to open up a letter from Ed.  He'd just… hoped that there’d be someone who could compare, help him move on from these decidedly inconvenient feelings.  And there wasn’t.

“Stede?”

“Hmm?” Stede asked, blinking back to life again like a robot that had just rebooted.  “Oh.  Sorry!  Sailing, yes.  Very cool.”

“You gonna go for him?” Ed asked.

Stede reached for his cup of coffee, and took a sip as he formulated his response.  “I’ll think about it,” he eventually said.  There, that would do.  Nice and open-ended, room to play.  “I mean, there’s no rush, is there?” he reasoned, attempting a smile.

“Nah,” Ed said, smiling easily back at him, nudging their feet together again.  “No rush.”

***

The rest of Stede’s week went by the same as usual.  Bonnet’s Bookery kept its steady stream of customers, and he rounded off every shift with a trip to Kraken Coffee.  All of this had become his routine, his life, and he couldn’t believe how much things had changed in the space of a month.  He’d gone from a lonely, unsuccessful bookshop owner, to a guy who hung out with his friend every day and successfully sold Mills & Boon to little old ladies.  Wonders never ceased!  And in all of this, he hardly ever thought about the letters tucked in his desk drawer upstairs.  They seemed like relics of the distant past by now, souvenirs of a passing fancy.  He’d been a different man when he’d written that personal ad – depressed, unfulfilled, yearning for more.  These days, it was hard to feel a great longing for company when he already had it.  In fact, the idea of not turning up to the coffee shop one night just to go to dinner with some stranger didn’t sound remotely appealing to him.  Why would he place his bets on a random guy who could turn out to be a complete arsehole, when he was guaranteed a lovely time with Ed?

And if he’d started to notice more and more over the course of these evenings just how nice Ed’s hair looked every day, or how lovely his smile was (especially if Stede was the one to cause it), well, he could just keep those observations to himself.  No need to broadcast them.  After all, he’d spent his whole life burying his thoughts and feelings down deep, he was a bona fide expert at it by now.  Besides, he was perfectly happy with Ed’s friendship, he didn’t need anything more.  He was content.  Satisfied.  Truly, things had never been better for him, and he wasn’t about to do anything to sabotage that.  Unless things got out of his control, of course.  Which was maybe what very nearly happened when his workplace received an unexpected visitor.

He was busy reorganising the bookshelves (the issue with having customers now is that some people didn’t abide by his alphabetising when they put things back after picking them up!) when he heard a throat being cleared behind him.  He spun around, holding a book in each of his hands, and very nearly dropped them both in surprise.  “Ed!” he exclaimed, eyes widening in shock.  “What are you doing here?”  Because he had never, ever seen Ed outside of Kraken Coffee.  That was where they always met.  The vibe was nice, the chairs were comfy, it was convenient for them both – Stede hadn’t even considered suggesting another meeting place, because why would he?  But now here was Ed, hands tucked into his pockets, standing in the middle of Stede’s bookshop.

“Figured I’d rock up to your work for a change,” he grinned, rocking on his heels, until his face suddenly fell, probably because Stede was staring at him like he’d seen a ghost.  “Unless… I mean, I could leave.”

“Oh, no, don’t leave!” Stede practically shouted in his face.  “God, no, stay as long as you like.  Stay forever, haha!” he insisted, going to clap his hands together and slamming the hardbacks he’d forgotten he was holding together instead, crushing his thumbs between them.  “Ow!  Almost did myself an injury, there!  Hang on a sec, I’ll just pop these back where they belong."  He turned back towards the shelves, shoved the two books into the first gaps he saw, and then twirled back to face Ed again with what was probably a slightly manic look on his face.  “Anyhoo!  What can I do you for?  For you.  What can I do for you?”

Bloody hell, what on earth had gotten into him?  Why was he so flustered?  He saw Ed every single day and managed to behave mostly normally!  Except, of course, this was an unexpected encounter, and good grief, Ed looked a bit different outside of the coffee shop, didn’t he?  Stede was used to seeing him in plain black clothes and an apron, not like this: artfully ripped jeans, a tight purple t-shirt, a black leather jacket with one sleeve – another DIY job, like the still-unseen pyramid jacket?  God, he had style.  And his hair, not tied up for work but long and flowing, cascading past his shoulders, mostly concealing what looked like a long, silver sword dangling from his ear.  He looked… he looked… oh shit, he looked like he’d just said something.

“Sorry, what was that?” Stede asked, cringing a little.

“…I’m in the market for a new used book,” Ed likely repeated.  “Heard this was the place.”

“You heard correctly!” Stede said as he relaxed his shoulders, relieved that this was a topic he knew plenty about, because at least he could throw himself into it and distract himself from Ed’s incredibly tattooed bicep.  “Looking for anything in particular?”

“Whatever the chef recommends,” Ed teased.

“Ooh, well, we’ve got some freshly baked classics hot out the oven,” Stede played along, because the oldies were definitely his area of expertise, and a whole new bunch had just come in.

Ed grinned.  “Sounds yummy,” he said.

“Perfect!  If you’d just follow me down here, then,” Stede said, darting to the side and leading Ed to the set of shelves at the back to start with.  He felt much more comfortable now that he had a mission to accomplish: he was in his element here, breezing around the store, twisting and turning around all the different shelves, plucking book after book from them and passing them back behind him as he rattled off a list of titles, piling more and more options into Ed’s arms until he finally looked back at him and realised the poor man was struggling to hold the teetering collection.  (Stede had, admittedly, been avoiding looking directly at him up until this point, fearing he would yet again lose track of what he was supposed to be doing in favour of noticing how Ed's t-shirt was riding up as he clutched these books in his arms, which, ah, he’d definitely noticed now.)

“Whoops, sorry, might’ve gone a bit overboard there,” he apologised as he dragged his eyes back up before he got caught staring, reaching for the top couple of books nestled under Ed’s chin.  “Still, good to have lots of options.  I’ll leave you to rifle through them and see if any catch your fancy.”  And also maybe catch my own breath in the process.  But before he could so much as step back and take a minute to compose himself, Ed replied.

“I’ll take ‘em all.”

Stede’s eyebrows felt like they shot up to his hairline.  “Are you sure?” he asked, because he’d really handed him a lot.  “Don’t you want to–”

“I trust you,” Ed said, looking back at him with an expression as earnest as ever, and Stede found himself breaking into the widest smile his face could manage.

“Well, then!  Just this way to the counter, and I’ll get you all bagged up.  Oh, I’ll lighten your load a bit first.”  He took a few more of the books from the top of Ed’s pile until they were holding about the same amount, and together they made their way up to the till.  Here, Stede began to go through them all one by one, tallying up the prices in his head as he rambled on about each book, its qualities, what he liked about it, what he thought Ed would like about it.  “Ah, one of my childhood favourites,” he said fondly, as they reached an old copy of Peter and Wendy.  “Started an intense pirate obsession.  In fact…” he added, flipping the front cover open, and spinning the book around to show Ed the words written neatly on the first page.

Property of Captain Stede Bonnet, age 11

“Yep, there we have it!” he announced.  “Signed by the bookseller himself!”

“Awww, mate,” Ed said, looking down at the page almost… forlornly.  “You’re giving your own books away?”

“Well, I’d be an awful hypocrite if I didn’t, wouldn’t I?” Stede laughed, wondering why people always seemed so surprised about this considering the type of business he’d opened up.  “That’s what this place is all about – giving old books new life.  There’s no use in hoarding them, letting them gather dust for no reason.  I even thought about adding a sort of take-a-book, leave-a-book corner over there to encourage trading rather than buying… terrible business model for a bookshop, but that doesn’t really matter.  We’re not about margins here – except the kind on a page!” he finished cheerfully, wondering if he should make that the official tagline of his shop…

But Ed’s eyes were still fixed on the page, on Stede’s neatly handwritten words.  “Man, I don’t know if I can take this,” he said quietly.

“Oh no, please,” Stede insisted, closing the front cover again and pushing the book towards him.  “I’d rather you had it than anybody else.  At least I can be sure it’s going to a loving home.”

Ed lifted his head, a look in his eyes like he could tell Stede was trying to tug on his heartstrings a bit there, and it was working.  “Fuckin’ alright,” he relented.  “But only ‘cause you said that.  Promise I’ll take good care of it for you.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Stede smiled, as he added its cost to the running total and slipped it into the bag with the others, feeling impossibly warmed by Ed’s words.  It felt, in some strange way, that he wasn’t just taking care of the book, but of the silly little boy who’d owned that book – the one who’d believed in fairies and mermaids and magic.  (Pirates, too, but they were real, he supposed.)  He’d thought that part of him had been forced to grow up long ago, that capacity for fantasy, but lately, he’d been feeling it more than ever.

Once all of the books were bagged up and Ed had paid for his rather substantial purchase, Stede handed the bag over with a wide smile, preparing to bid him goodbye and say he’d see him at Kraken Coffee later.  Only, Ed showed no signs of leaving.

“Go on then,” he said, leaning in and resting his elbows on the counter.  “Tell us about this pirate phase.”

“Oh, you know,” Stede shrugged off.  “Running around in the garden, using sticks as swords.  Whatever kids do.”

“Sounds like a bit of fun,” Ed grinned up at him.

“It was,” Stede nodded, trying not to think about the day his father had caught him wearing his mother’s most billowy blouse as part of his costume.  “Mostly.  Except there’s only so much you can really do on your own.  Attacking trees, and things.  Nobody else was really… into it,” he trailed off, knowing full well that nobody had ever joined him no matter what game he’d played.  He didn’t want to say that, though – didn’t want to be a downer by talking about his miserable childhood, the exact kind of conversation he’d been hoping to avoid with Jeffrey Fettering.  But maybe Ed picked up on it anyway, considering what he said next.

“I would’ve played pirates with you, Captain Bonnet.”

And that was a very silly sentence for a grown man to say to another grown man, Stede knew it, but stupid, hopeless heart started fluttering in his chest all the same, because it was kind, it was so kind, and he could tell it was genuine, that Ed really would have been there for him when nobody else was.  “It would have been an honour,” he replied sincerely, “Captain…”  And then he faltered, suddenly realising he’d never actually learned Ed’s surname in all this time he’d known him.  How ridiculously self-centred, after his own surname had obviously come up plenty.  Hell, his entire store was named after it!  And yet he’d never even thought to ask Ed’s.

Ed didn’t seem all that bothered though.  “Teach,” he filled in for him, smile playing at his lips.  “Captain Teach.”

Stede smiled right on back at him, both in the  relief of not having fumbled too badly, and in the delight of knowing something new about Ed.  “It would have been an honour, Captain Teach,” he finished properly this time, with a little bow of his head.

“No honour among pirates, mate,” Ed said, with a wink and a wicked grin, and Stede felt his entire face flush at the sight.  God, that had really done something for him.

“I guess we’ll just have to attack each other, then,” he said, voice coming out a bit high as he desperately tried to maintain his composure.  “But I should warn you, I’ve had a lot of practice.”

“What, waving your stick about?” Ed asked with a smirk.  “Haven’t we all, mate.”

And comments like that were not! helping! the situation!

“I did fencing at uni,” Stede argued – this was true, a little semi-rebellion while still remaining suitably upper class in case word got back to his father.

“I’ve done a fair bit of fighting myself,” Ed countered, leaning in towards him with a challenging glint in his eye.  “Reckon I could take you.”

Stede swallowed.  The images flooding his mind right now were definitely not what Ed had been getting at, and certainly weren’t appropriate for a public setting.  Or any setting.  He should stop picturing them, right this second!  But as he tried to drag himself back into reality, he realised, suddenly, how close they were to each other even now.  Ed leaning up against the counter, Stede right on the other side of it, head bowed down into Ed’s space, far closer than they ever got to be when they were sitting in those big armchairs at the coffee shop, and Stede’s face felt far too warm, he was definitely on his way to turning red, and Ed would definitely notice, and–

“WELL,” he announced, abruptly straightening his back like a soldier being called to attention.  “Thank you for dropping by, Ed!”

Ed blinked, looking a bit lost for a moment, presumably wondering why Stede had gone from talking about pirates to shouting in his face again.  But he recovered pretty quickly, lifting his arms off the counter and standing up straight as well.  “My pleasure, mate,” he said.

“You’ll have to let me know if you enjoy the books,” Stede went on, nudging the bag towards him.

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” Ed nodded, as he took the hint and picked it up.  “Guess I’ll… catch you later, then…”

“Yes, catch you later!” Stede agreed, hoping that everything would return to normal between them as soon as they were back at their usual meeting place.  This had just been a little blip, that was all.  He’d be himself again soon enough.  He stood there and watched as Ed walked away, and as soon as he heard the bell on the door tinkle, signalling his departure, he took a deep breath in and out, trying to restore his heart rate to normal before any other customers turned up and wondered why they were being served by a highly-strung, very pink, puddle of a man.  Of course, Lucius picked that exact moment to emerge from behind a bookshelf, catching Stede mid-deep-breath and almost making him jump out of his skin.  To be honest, he’d sort of forgotten anybody else was in the shop at all.

“Friend of yours?” Lucius asked pointedly, casting his eyes towards the door Ed had just walked out of, and Stede wondered how much of their conversation he’d actually witnessed.

“Yes, that’s right,” he nodded, hoping he sounded normal again by now.  “His name is Ed.”

“And where did Ed come from?”

“Well, we met… because of the personal ad, funnily enough,” Stede said with a forced chuckle, because that was beginning to feel increasingly ironic, actually.

Lucius’ response was to let out a low whistle.  “I’m impressed,” he said, “he’s gorgeous.”

“Is he?” Stede asked, trying not to flush an even more embarrassing shade of pink.  “I hadn’t noticed.”

Lucius threw him a knowing smirk.  “Alright, Romeo, get back to work,” he teased, before sauntering back off behind the bookcase to do fuck knows what.  Page one of his many boyfriends during work hours out of his boss’ sight, probably.  Whatever it was, it left Stede standing there alone again, cursing himself.

Damn it.

He’d thought he’d been doing a good job keeping his silly little crush concealed.  Apparently not!  Even Lucius had noticed it from behind a damn bookshelf, and if he’d picked up on it from there, then it was only a matter of time until Ed did too.  Hell, maybe he already had – Stede hadn’t exactly been subtle just now, stumbling over himself like an idiot.  And it was all well and good telling himself that this was just a one-off incident, but what if Ed came in again and Stede forgot how to speak properly for a second time?  Then what?  No, it was clear that ignoring these feelings, burying them down deep and pretending they’d just go away, was no longer doing him any good – if it ever had been.  It was time for him to take a page out of Mary’s book, a couple of years too late.  It was time for him to finally be brave.  And go for it.

Chapter Text

The next time Stede walked into Kraken Coffee, it was with his head held high.

Ed was behind the counter when he walked in, tidying up the dessert display, but of course he looked up at the sound of Stede entering.  “There you are, mate,” he said, his grin lighting up the whole empty coffee shop.  “Where the fuck were you last night?  Thought about sending out a search party.”

“I have something to tell you,” Stede said, barrelling past Ed’s perfectly understandable question about last evening’s whereabouts, because he’d come in here with a mental script prepared and he was not about to deviate.

“Oh, yeah?” Ed asked, eyebrows raised.  “Something good?”

“Something long overdue, I think,” Stede declared confidently.

The corners of Ed’s lips twitched upwards, like he had some idea of what it might be.  “Alright,” he said, walking around the side of the counter and coming to a stop opposite Stede, no barriers in the way.  “Hit me.”

“I went on a date last night.”

Ed’s expression shifted, lips dropping back down again.  Like maybe he hadn’t actually known what Stede was going to say after all.  “A… date,” he repeated slowly.

“Yes.  With Ricky, from the letters,” Stede nodded, deciding that some context would probably help.  “The one you said was probably fine.”

“And was he?” Ed asked, voice sounding a bit strained.  Stede wondered if he had a cold.  He’d have to ask him about it later, but for now, he had a question of his own to answer.

And the truth was, ‘fine’ was the perfect descriptor.  The date was fine, the restaurant was fine, Ricky was fine.  He was exactly what Stede had expected from his letter.  But that wasn’t really what Stede had been hoping for, when he’d decided to take the plunge and call him up.  The whole point was to take a leap, stop stewing in what he couldn’t have and try focusing on what he could, which was a man who was actually interested in dating him.  The only way he’d be able to move on from his feelings for Ed was if he stopped pretending they weren’t there, and instead focused on getting rid of them, replacing them with feelings for somebody else.  Ricky, he’d decided, was his best bet.  And he’d just been fine.  Stede hadn’t come here to say that, though.  He was here to give Ed the positives – to show him he was taking steps, moving forward, finally doing what he’d planned to do since the beginning.

“He was… very nice,” he began, trying to think of anything more he could say about Ricky beyond his kind of snooty voice and tendency to talk about himself a bit too much.  He settled on, “we actually have a lot in common,” which he supposed was technically true.  “Similar backgrounds – rich families, private schools, and all that.”

“Right.  And that’s your type is it?” Ed asked, voice oddly flat now.

“Well… it makes sense, doesn’t it?” Stede asked weakly, hoping that saying the words out loud would make them feel a bit more real.  “For someone like me?”  Because of course he should want Ricky.  Ricky cared about fashion and dressed well.  He read books and went sailing.  He liked theatre.  He liked Stede.  Shouldn’t that be enough?

“Right,” Ed repeated, but this time like he understood.  “Yeah.”  And then he said something incredibly strange.  “I’ve gotta get back to work.”

It took Stede a moment to process what he’d just heard, and even after he had processed it, he still didn’t quite understand.  “Work?” he asked, turning to look behind himself at the rest of the coffee shop, just to confirm it was as empty as he thought it was.  “But… you’re closed.”

“Got stuff to do out the back,” Ed said, not quite looking at him now.  “Gonna be pretty busy, next few weeks.  Not much time to chat, so.  Don’t bother dropping in.”

“I…” Stede said, feeling himself deflate like someone had just stuck a pin in him.  Where the hell had this come from?  He’d spent every evening here for a month, and now it was all being pulled out from under him?  If he didn’t have his meet-ups with Ed to look forward to, what did he have?  More mediocre dates with Ricky, and nothing else?  “Weeks?” he double-checked, because that seemed almost astronomically long, actually.

“Yeah,” Ed mumbled.  “Maybe longer.  Could be months.”

MONTHS?!  What could possibly be so time-consuming that it’d take months?  “Okaaaay,” he said slowly, “well… you know where to find me,” he finished a bit pathetically, because he didn’t see what else he could say to that.  “Feel free to pop by the bookshop any time.”

Ed gave him a look that he couldn’t possibly hope to decipher. 

“Bye, Stede,” he said, before turning and walking past the counter to a door at the back of the room. 

Stede stood in confused silence for a long while, feet glued to the floor, wondering what the hell had just happened.

***

And all at once, Stede’s cosy little routine came crashing down.

Well, parts were the same.  He still had his breakfast at the same time every morning, marmalade on toast – it just didn’t taste as nice as it used to.  Maybe they’d changed the recipe, but every time he bit into it, all he could think about was that marmalade cake he’d shared with Ed at the coffee shop, and suddenly it was like all the sweetness left his mouth and only the bitterness remained.

The bookshop still had customers, but he found he didn’t have the same excitement when it came to serving them.  He tried to fake it, keep upbeat and positive, but all of the smiling was starting to make his face hurt.  And he knew this forced jollity couldn’t be all that convincing, because even his daughter, during one of their phone calls, told him he sounded weird.  He didn’t know how to respond – he couldn’t explain to her why he was feeling what he was feeling.  He barely understood what had happened himself.  Just that his one real friendship had dissipated right in front of him, and he didn’t even know why.  He knew it couldn’t be for the reasons Ed had given – he’d walk by Kraken Coffee occasionally after closing, look casually through the windows for a glimpse of what was going on inside, but all the lights were off.  Clearly Ed wasn’t in there at all, working or otherwise, which only left Stede wondering what the hell he was doing.  And, more importantly, why he didn’t want Stede there for it.

Maybe he really hadn’t liked the sound of Ricky at all, only pretending to change his mind about him because Stede had looked so disappointed, and then Stede actually going on a date with him had been the final straw.  Even then, that didn’t seem a good enough reason to be avoiding Stede completely.  Unless Maybe Ed knew Ricky.  Maybe Ricky had crashed his yacht into Ed’s little dinghy and almost killed him (Ed had mentioned a sailing course he’d taken back home, much to Stede’s excitement) and maybe Ricky had paid him off so that he could never talk about it, leaving him to stew in silence and resentment without being able to tell the world, even when his friend received a proposition from him.  Somehow, Stede doubted this.  But just in case, he ignored Ricky’s persistent calls trying to arrange a second date, deleting the messages he’d received until the man got the hint and they finally ceased.

He wished he had Ed’s number.  They’d never bothered exchanging them… after all, they knew where to find each other.  Except Ed wasn’t in the place where Stede knew to find him, and he wasn’t coming to find Stede either, even though Stede was there constantly.  He worked downstairs, he lived upstairs, he never left his apartment because he had no reason to – he’d notice if Ed came knocking.  And he hadn’t, so all Stede had left to do was wallow.  He spent his days going through the motions at work, and his nights curled up under the covers, headphones on, listening to the last tape Ed had gifted him on repeat and trying to fight back the ridiculous tears in his eyes as he remembered these very same songs playing softly over the coffee shop speakers as they talked the whole evening through.  He could almost hear the conversations they’d have to this music, memories flooding back of Ed talking about his trip to the Caribbean and how he’d almost gotten arrested (mistakenly of course) and how he’d fucked his knee running from the cops and it’d never been the same since, but at least it made for a good story.  It was all so vivid, Stede could almost pretend these conversations were still happening, that he was still spending time with Ed, learning more and more about him, making him smile, making him laugh…

But he wasn’t.

After what felt like weeks, maybe even months had passed (but what Stede’s calendar on the wall reliably informed him had been three days) he decided that he needed to pull himself together before he withered away completely into a puddle of misery.  Do something productive, move himself forward.  Not another date – lord, no, he couldn’t possibly imagine contacting another one of the letter men now – but something to get his mind off things.  Standing behind the till waiting for customers wasn’t doing him any good… not enough action, too much opportunity for his thoughts to be overtaken.  He needed to move about a bit.  With that in mind, he decided it was time to do a reshuffle.  Why on earth were the romance books right up at the front?  No, that wouldn’t do.  They should be shoved towards the back, replaced with… crime or horror or something.  Yes, that made much more sense.  And so he got started, taking all of the romance books down from their set of shelves row by row… but he only got halfway through this activity when he realised that no, wait, actually, romance should be up here.  It shouldn’t be buried at the back of the store, playing hard to get.  It ought to be front and centre, easily accessible to anybody looking for it.  Shaking his head at his own foolishness, he went to restack the books again, all while Lucius chattered away in the background, either to a customer to quite possibly to himself, Stede wasn’t focusing enough to hear.  Maybe one of his twenty boyfriends was here paying him a visit and that’s who he was talking – ha, must be nice!  But whoever he was speaking to, his voice faded in and out of Stede’s awareness as the minutes went by.

“…was at Jackie’z last night, totally rammed…”

“…wearing that white jacket you lent me…”

“…this guy bumped into me, and my Bloody Mary went aaaaaaaaaaaall down the front–”

“It what?!” Stede yelped as Lucius’ words finally sunk into his brain, and he spun around to find that there was nobody else there, and Lucius was sitting on top of the counter, looking directly at him with a wide grin.

“Jesus Christ, Stede,” he cackled, practically swinging his legs.  “How did I know that would work?”

“What?” Stede asked, still feeling a little out-of-focus, never mind the revelation that Lucius had apparently been speaking to him all along.

“I’ve been trying to get your attention for, like, five minutes,” Lucius said, smile dropping into an expression of concern.  “What’s wrong?”

“Why would something be wrong?” Stede asked, because that seemed like a terribly presumptuous question to him.

“I just watched you empty those shelves and then restack them again in the exact same way,” Lucius replied, before raising his eyebrows pointedly.  “Five times.”

…Five times?  Really?  God, clearly Stede’s mind had been wandering.

“It’s nothing,” he insisted.

“Is it Ed?” Lucius asked.

Stede’s mouth fell open.  “How the hell did you know that?!”

“Lucky guess,” Lucius shrugged.  “So, what’s wrong?”

And seeing that the boy was obviously not going to let it go, Stede gave a deep, miserable sigh, then, (in what was quite possibly the understatement of the century) declared: “I think he’s avoiding me.”

“Awww, Stede,” Lucius said, lips forming a sympathetic pout as he jumped down from the counter, walked over, and gave Stede’s shoulder a couple of slightly awkward pats.  “At least you went for it, ey?” he asked, voice all high and gentle, like he was trying to coax a cat down from a tree.  “That’s still a big step.  And he’s just one letter, there’s always the others.”

“One of – no, Ed wasn’t one of the letters, he… oh, I see the confusion,” Stede said slowly, as he realised Lucius had completely misunderstood when he’d told him where this new friend had come from.  “No, we met because he saw me looking at the personals, but he wasn’t one of the… he’s just a friend.”  Was.  He was just a friend, Stede’s brain rudely corrected, but Stede wasn’t ready to admit that, not out loud, and certainly not to himself.

Lucius, meanwhile, seemed to have some entirely different fish to fry.  “Oh, no,” he said, shaking his head slowly as he backed up a bit.  “Stede, babe.”

“What?”

“Does Ed know that he’s just a friend?” Lucius asked.

“Well, I imagine so,” Stede retorted, feeling particularly irritable all of a sudden, “since he was the one helping me find someone other than him to go out with.”

“Wait, so… hang on, how do you actually know each other?” Lucius checked, obviously still playing catch-up here, which Stede supposed was fair enough.  He hadn’t really given him much context, in his attempt to keep this friendship all to himself.  Fat lot of good that had done him.

“He works at Kraken Coffee,” he explained, since he supposed the cat was well and truly out of the bag by now.  “Actually, he owns the place.”

“Oh my God, is that why you kept sneaking off there after closing?” Lucius asked, jaw dropping like Stede had just revealed something monumental.  “I was starting to think that place was a front for something – no judgement.”

“What would it be a front for?” Stede asked, before deciding he didn’t care to hear the answer.  “No, we’d just… sit in the corner together, drink coffee, eat cake, talk about… fuck, everything,” he sighed again, because it still hadn’t fully sunk in that he may not get to do these things ever again, at least not with the one person he wanted to do them with.

“That sounds like dating,” Lucius commented.

“It isn’t dating,” Stede insisted, before realising he was still speaking in the present tense.  “Wasn’t.  Isn’t.  It wasn’t dating, and it’s over now anyway, so even if it was, it isn’t.  But it wasn’t.  He didn’t see me that way.”

“Stede,” Lucius said, voice firm, like he was about to launch into a lecture.  “I know I only saw you have one conversation, but that man was five seconds away from leaping across the counter and landing right on top of you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Stede scoffed, because he knew more about that conversation than Lucius did, thank you very much, and it was very clear that Stede had been the one falling over himself, while Ed had been… well, the same way he always was.  “If he was remotely interested in dating me, he could have written me a letter like the others.”

“Maybe he didn’t see the point since he was literally seeing you face to face every day, oh my God, Stede,” Lucius practically groaned, dragging his hand down his face like this conversation was causing him actual physical pain.

“Well, he’s not seeing me every day anymore,” Stede said, aiming for snappy but landing somewhere around choked up, his voice coming out all wobbly.

This, at least, regained Lucius’ sympathy.  “Okay, so what happened?” he asked, back to the cat-coaxing voice. 

“I don’t know!” Stede said, because that was half the damn problem.  “I just went in and told him about my date, and…”

“Your date,” Lucius said flatly.

“Yes, with a man from… from the letters…”

“And Ed got upset?” Lucius asked pointedly.

Stede swallowed.  “…Yes.”

Lucius raised his eyebrows.

“Oh, fuck.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Do you think…”

“Uh-huh.”

“Oh God, I need to talk to him,” Stede said, eyes wide, because if Lucius was right, if Ed was at all interested in him, if that was why he’d been so upset, then Stede had made an absolutely catastrophic mistake.  “Right now, I need to talk to him right now.  I need – can you watch the shop?  How’s my hair?  Is my pocket square straight?” he asked, the words coming out in a panic as he tried desperately to rearrange himself.

“Yes, nice, and yes,” Lucius reassured him.  “Who wears a pocket square, by the way?”

“I do!” Stede shouted over his shoulder, as he charged towards the exit with no more time to chat.  “I’m a snappy dresser!”  With that, he flung the door open, the sound of Lucius calling ‘good luck, boss!’ following him out into the street.

He practically ran all the way to Kraken Coffee, and burst through the front door like he was storming a castle – a bit dramatic, but he wasn’t exactly known for his subtlety, especially in moments like this.  All of the staff and at least half of the patrons looked over in alarm at the commotion, some of which shot him some rather judgemental glares.  Notably, not one of these people was Ed, but Stede hadn’t been expecting him to be right there.  He was prepared to have to go through some alternative channels, and that was why he joined the queue of people at the counter, hoping to speak to one of Ed’s employees and get them to help him out.  He was extremely antsy for the couple of minutes he spent behind people ordering their coffees and cakes, his whole body feeling like it was vibrating as he stood there, only for him to reach the front and find himself faced with the small, grouchy one he’d once foolishly thought was in charge.  Not the ideal person to speak to in this situation, but he could work with it.

“Excuse me, uh…” he trailed off, because he remembered Ed saying the man’s name at some point, but whatever it was, it wasn’t coming to him now.

Fortunately, the man was here to help.  “Izzy,” he said through gritted teeth, jabbing his finger towards his name badge.

“Sorry, Iggy,” Stede said vaguely, because quite frankly, he had a more important man on his mind right now.  “Is Ed here?”

“No.”

Well, that was a curt put-down.

“Not even out the back?” Stede asked, eyebrows raised.

“No.”

Stede couldn’t tell whether he was being lied to or not, but he supposed that functionally, it didn’t matter.  He wouldn’t be seeing Ed either way.  “Well, could you pass on a message for me?” he asked, his patience feeling rather tested.

“No,” Iggy said for the third time.  “And if you’re not buying anything, you can get out.”

“As a matter of fact, I am buying something,” Stede retorted, because never let it be said that he didn’t support independent businesses, even when the owner was extremely upset at him and the server was a complete arsehole.  “I’ll take a latte and an espresso, on the double,” he said, because he might as well get something for Lucius while he was here.  “And for the record, your customer service leaves a lot to be desired.”

Glare still fixed directly on his face, Iggy at least processed his order, so that was something.  Stede had to move to the side while he waited for his drinks, but that afforded him the opportunity to try and catch the attention of some of the other staff working behind the counter.  Maybe they’d be a bit more understanding, and help him get in touch with Ed.

“Excuse me, uh, Jim?” he began, as his eyes caught the name tag of the person closest to him.

But Jim didn’t even spare him a glance.  “Nope,” they said tersely.  “Sorry.”

How odd – Stede had been served by them before, and while they hadn’t exactly been talkative, they’d at least bothered to look in his direction.  But no dice this time.  He was just going to have to try again.

“Uh, pardon me… chap in the striped shirt?” he attempted weakly, raising his voice a little to speak to the man who was standing further back, name tag out of sight.  But the tall, wiry barista simply shook his head, then went back to silently preparing coffee.

Well.  Stede, it seemed, was now persona non grata here at Kraken Coffee, and he had a feeling he knew why.  With nothing else he could do, he waited miserably for his coffee, and once it was placed silently on the counter in front of him, moped all the way back to the bookshop clutching a cup in each hand.

“That was fast,” Lucius said, as soon he walked through the door.  “How’d it go?”

“Terribly.  I think he’s told the staff to avoid me,” Stede said, because it was the only explanation for the stonewalling he’d just received.  Obviously Ed didn’t want to risk being contacted at all, even through somebody else.  “I’ve completely blown it, haven’t I?” he asked, everything suddenly seeming even more hopeless than it had before.

“Well, he’s not exactly making it easy on you either,” Lucius pointed out.  “I mean, if he’d just take a minute to hear you out…”

“Why would he bother hearing me out?” Stede asked, gesturing wildly in his frustration.  “He thinks I’m swanning around on Ricky’s yacht, crashing into dinghies and paying people off!”

“Okayyyyy, I think there’s a fair bit of context I’m missing there,” Lucius said as he rushed around the counter to take the cups from Stede’s hands before he got coffee everywhere, “but the point is, if he’s gonna get this mad at you when you technically didn’t do anything wrong, maybe–”

“He’s not mad,” Stede interrupted, because now that he finally knew the cause of their separation, he understood exactly what was going on.  Ed wasn’t keeping Stede away out of malice, he was doing it to protect himself.  Stede knew a thing or two about that – hiding away in your little cocoon, shielding yourself from the outside world.  He’d done plenty of it himself, throughout his childhood, his marriage, hell, even the last few days.  He wondered if Ed was spending his nights the same way as him: tucked up in bed, listening to the music that Stede had given him, reading the books he’d bought from him, wondering why Stede had chosen the boring, fancy man on the yacht over him… fuck, no wonder he’d been so upset.  “He’s just hurting,” he finished, feeling an ache in his heart as he spoke.

“So are you,” Lucius reminded him gently.

“Yes, well,” Stede sniffed, looking down at his shoes.  “That’s my own fault.”

Lucius sighed, like he was realising that nothing he could say was going to make Stede change his mind.  Which he wasn’t, because Stede knew full well that he only had himself to blame for all of this.  Ed’s response was… frustrating, yes, but perfectly understandable, and Stede couldn’t judge him for any of it, no matter how much Lucius clearly wanted him to.

“Look, maybe it’s best if you try and take your mind off him for a bit,” he suggested, as if such a thing was remotely possible.  “You’re coming out with us tonight, right?”

“I am?” Stede asked, not quite managing to lift his head.

“Olu’s bringing his mystery date along, remember?” Lucius asked entreatingly.  “We’re finally gonna get to meet them?”

Oh, yes.  Stede had some vague memory of this plan being made a while back, but he’d admittedly been a little too wrapped up in his own (lack of) love life to really pay all that much attention.  And while he would love to be there to support Olu’s budding relationship along with everybody else, he was 100% certain he couldn’t handle being around that kind of energy right now.

“Pass, I’m afraid.”

“It’ll do you good to get out, Lucius insisted.

“It’ll do me better to stay in,” Stede insisted back at him.

He could practically hear Lucius’ pursed lips, like Stede was a petulant child he was dealing with.  “…Alright,” he said eventually.  “I can’t make you.  Just promise me you won’t spend the whole night wallowing, okay?”

Stede nodded.  “Okay,” he said.

Chapter Text

Stede spent about half the night wallowing.

Not bad, he thought, considering the revelations he’d had today, realising how monumentally he’d fucked everything up.  He allotted himself a few good hours of wallowing time, thinking about all the opportunities he’d had to just go for it, replaying everything in his head.  The times Ed had complimented his appearance and he’d thought he was just being nice.  The times he’d caught Ed looking at him in a certain way, but he’d stopped himself from reading any further into it.  The time he’d gone on a date with somebody else and then told Ed about it because he’d somehow thought that’s what Ed wanted!!!!!!!  God, what the hell had he been thinking?!  At least it provided him with plenty of material to flash back to as he wallowed, but as the evening dragged on, he decided that that was quite enough.  Recounting his own idiocy wasn’t going to get him anywhere.  Maybe he’d had the right idea this morning… something productive, that was bound to get him in the right mindset.  So he forced himself out from under his blanket, and tried to pull himself together.  He managed to tidy up a bit, wash some of the dishes that’d just been sitting in the sink for the past few days.  He called Alma and Louis for their scheduled evening catch-up, listening to their tales of school reports and playground antics, and actually engaging with them.  He even asked to speak to Mary afterwards, surprising pretty much everyone involved, including himself.

“Stede?” she asked cautiously, as soon as she took the phone over from Alma.  “Everything alright?”

“I’m sorry,” he said, the words bursting out of his mouth before he could even think about saying hello.

“For… what?” Mary asked, sounding understandably concerned that Stede was about to inform her of some new catastrophe.

But, no.  Just the old ones.  He apologised for always being so distant, for dodging any attempt she made at forging a deeper connection, for pretending to fall asleep far earlier than he ever did half the time just to get out of talking to her.  “That’s the real reason our marriage failed,” he said.  “Well, that, and the other thing.  The gay thing.  But I don’t think we’d have been very compatible even without that.  We’ve got barely anything in common, I don’t really care about art, and–”

“Stede,” Mary interrupted, at least sounding a little bit amused by this whole tirade.  “What the hell brought this on?”

“Nothing in particular,” he said, because he definitely wasn’t prepared to tell his happily re-partnered ex-wife about the budding relationship he’d screwed up by not being honest about his feelings, and the one person he was totally unable to apologise to over the phone.  “Just… good to communicate, isn’t it?  Share our thoughts, let it all out?  Speaking of which, I’ve been thinking, do you think I could have the kids stay over during the Christmas holidays?  All this separation, Mary, it’s no good for anybody.”

“I… okay?” Mary asked, voice high.  “I mean, yes, but we’ll have to talk about it properly–”

“Great!” Stede practically shouted down the phone.  “That’s great, isn’t it – talking?  Talking things through?  I always advise it.  Everybody should do it, don’t you agree?”

“Is everything alright, Stede?” Mary checked for the second time in this phone call, probably convinced that he was having a mental breakdown by this point.

And this was usually the moment when Stede would tell her that everything was perfectly fine.  That he wasn’t upset at all by her calling his outfit a bit garish or saying that his model ships were cluttering up the mantlepiece.  That the Badmintons weren’t bothering him at work at all and he certainly didn’t think about setting the building on fire with them inside of it every damn day.  That he was perfectly satisfied with their marriage and their life and things were exactly how they ought to be, all while burying his feelings deep down and hoping she’d never figure them out.  But that time had long since passed.

“No,” he replied simply, and it felt like letting out a breath he’d been holding for 20 years.  “No, it’s not alright.  But… I’m working on it.”

He couldn’t be sure, but in the quiet that followed, he liked to imagine Mary smiling over the phone.

“And you’re serious?” she asked, after a moment had passed.  “About the kids?  Because if you’re just asking on a whim…”

“It’s not a whim,” Stede insisted hurriedly.  “I promise.  It’s no good to be apart like this, it’s… I don’t want to ruin everything.  Again.  It's not too late, is it?” he asked weakly, admittedly a little afraid of what she’d have to say.

But he needn’t have been. 

“No, Stede,” she replied gently.  “I think it’s a good idea.  It’s been hard for them, doing it all over the phone.  They’ve missed your story time,” she added, with a chuckle.  “Apparently I can’t do the voices.”

Stede suddenly felt his heart in his throat.  “I thought they’d be too old for all that,” he confessed, almost shakily.

“They’re your kids, Stede,” Mary said, and for once, her voice sounded strangely fond as she said his name.  “They’ll never be too old for stories.”

***

As soon as this phone call ended, with some almost unprecedented warm goodbyes and the agreement to organise everything properly soon, Stede practically ran down his stairs into the bookshop below, and began pulling every single one of his old childhood books off the shelves.  He remembered all of them, of course, and where they were placed: some were definitely too young for Alma and Louis by now, and some had already been sold – he thought of Ed, reluctantly taking his copy of Peter and Wendy, promising he’d take care of it, take care of Stede… God, he’d been an idiot – but he saved the rest, bundling them all up into his arms and carrying them upstairs like he was robbing the place, hoping nobody walking by the bookshop this evening caught sight of the insane man frantically looting the shelves in the dark and tried to call the police on him.

As soon as his books were safe upstairs again, he threw himself down at his desk to take a breather.  There, he reached into one of the drawers and dug out his notebook, the very same one he’d used to write up his personal ad to begin with.  He wouldn’t have met Ed without this notebook.  He wouldn’t have lost Ed without this notebook.  Books held an awful lot of power in their pages, even this silly blue pad with its torn-out paper and scribbled-out words.  With that in mind, he flipped across to a brand-new page, smoothed it down at the spine, and wrote a header in block capitals.

OPERATION: TALK TO ED (WHILE RESPECTING HIS BOUNDARIES)

There.  If he could take steps to get close with his children again, hell, if he could patch things up a bit more with Mary, surely he could manage it with Ed.  The key difference, of course, was that Ed was the one who’d closed himself off, and he showed no signs of reopening, which maybe cracked Stede’s heart in two a little, but he wasn’t going to let that stop him.  He was a man on a mission, and that mission was to get his damn life together and win Ed back, no matter what it took!

This proved trickier than he’d hoped.

He began that night with a bit of brainstorming on how to actually see him again, but it was clear that wasn’t going to happen at Kraken Coffee, and short of stalking, he had no way of finding him elsewhere.  And even if he did somehow bump into him (or seek him out in a totally normal, non-stalkerish way) there was also the possibility that Ed wouldn’t be interested in hearing him out anyway.  That he’d written Stede off by now, as the oblivious idiot who’d fumbled him completely, and there was no way he’d give him the chance to try again.  Stede tried not to think like that, but he couldn’t help it, because he knew it was possible.  A lot of people wrote Stede off, and Ed had more reasons than most.  Still, that didn’t stop him from trying.

He spent the next few days constructing an elaborate list of options, ranging from sending letters addressed to the coffee shop in the hope that Ed would think they were business related and open them, to actually disguising himself as a coffee shop inspector, fake moustache and all, giving himself a legitimate reason to have a meeting with the owner (this one was soon decided to border too much on stalker territory, or at the very least unlikely to actually work).  Running short on viable ideas while between customers at the bookshop, he asked a surprisingly noncommittal Lucius for help – frankly, he’d expected a bit more enthusiasm or at least advice from the boy, but he just kept on with his vague maybe just wait and see what happens platitudes, which were hardly constructive.  Perhaps he really did think that Ed was being unreasonable and it wasn’t worth trying to win him back, but Stede knew better than that.  That said, he hoped Oluwande would at least be a bit more open, but it seemed that he had reservations of his own.

“Oh, I’m not the best person to ask,” he said when Stede asked for his advice, looking supremely uncomfortable with the whole thing.  “I wouldn’t know.  About… how to get a guy to like you, and all that.”

“Come on, now, I hear your partner’s wonderful,” Stede argued, because while he was sorry to have missed their grand introduction a few nights ago, he’d heard reports from Lucius that they were a very good match indeed, so surely Olu knew what he was doing.

“Yeah, but,” Oluwande faltered awkwardly.  “That doesn’t mean I can help you with your thing.  Everybody’s different.”

“Mmmm, soooooo true,” Lucius chipped in from across the room.  “Olu, can you give me a hand over here?  Can’t quite… reach this shelf.”

Stede huffed as he watched Olu (who, notably, was in fact shorter than Lucius) very eagerly joined him, presumably just as an opportunity to get away from Stede.  This theory was only enhanced when the pair of them seemed determined to avoid him for the rest of the afternoon, flitting around the store, busying themselves with menial task that they could apparently think up that kept them away from whichever parts of the bookshop Stede happened to be standing throughout the day – it was, admittedly, the most work he’d ever seen Lucius do, so he shouldn’t complain, but he did have to wonder what had put all these ants in their pants.  In fact, it wasn’t until the day was drawing to a close, with Olu already having left early to meet his partner after work, that Lucius actually deigned to speak to Stede again at all.

“Hey, boss, take a look at this,” he said, tossing something in Stede’s direction that almost hit him square in the face.

Stede caught it in alarm, and then, blinking rapidly, looked down at what he now held in his hands.  Today’s newspaper.  “What about it?” he asked.

“Funny you should ask,” Lucius said, “but I just remembered I was looking through the ads this morning–”

“Come on, really?!” Stede interrupted in frustration, because he couldn’t believe Lucius was bringing the personals up, after all the trouble they’d gotten him into!  He went to toss the paper dramatically aside, when Lucius rushed over.

“Maybe you should think about taking a look,” he said.

“Lucius, this is the last thing I need to be looking at right now,” Stede said, close to crumpling the damn thing in his hands.

“You never know, your dream guy might be waiting for you in there,” Lucius pressed, to the point where it was actually a little bit mean.

Stede jutted his chin out.  “I doubt it,” he retorted firmly, and tried to push past Lucius to get to the bin behind the counter, but once again the boy intervened, stepping back to stand right in his way again.

“Stede, just,” he spoke through gritted teeth, before smiling sweetly.  “Humour me, kay?”

Evidently Lucius was not backing down, so Stede decided the only thing he could do was prove him wrong.  Pursing his lips so hard that his jaw felt funny, he very pointedly flapped the newspaper open and sought out the familiar page.  It felt as wrong as he’d expected, going back there now – traitorous, almost, when he knew full well there was only one person in the world he was interested in.  “I really don’t know what you could possibly…” he continued to complain as he looked down, but his voice trailed off as his eyes were drawn to the unmissable ad right in the centre of the page that Lucius had circled in bright red ink.

DESPERATELY SEEKING STEDE

Similarly aged gay man of kissing height, salt-and-pepper/brown, seeking avid reader and snappy dresser for fun, romance and adventure.  Must enjoy nature/theatre/the ocean, and appreciate the finer things in life.  Anyone else need not apply.

Stede gaped at the words on the page for what felt like an eternity, mouth opening and closing like a particularly baffled goldfish.  “Lucius, what… how did you…” he managed eventually, not quite a question, but close enough.

“Oh, yeah, so, turns out that Olu’s mystery partner just so happens to work at Kraken Coffee,” Lucius said, looking across at Stede with a wicked grin.  “I know, like, what’re the chances?  But yeah, they got me in touch with your Ed, I had a few choice words with him…”

“Wait, what did you say?” Stede panicked, because if Lucius had been remotely rude–

“Mostly that he was being an idiot,” Lucius smirked, “but that’s okay because you’d been an idiot first, so basically I think you’re made for each other and the pair of you should just talk it through or whatever.  I did tell him to just come by the bookshop and see you in person, but I guess he thought you’d like this more, for some reason,” he said, waving his hand towards the newspaper.

Stede nodded, mouth dry, heart going a mile a minute in his chest as he thought about all of the ads he’d cut out over the years, looking for any similarities, any potential connections that could lead two people to one another, and now here was an ad written to perfectly match his own.  “More romantic,” he breathed out.

“God, you’re really fucking made for each other,” Lucius muttered.

“Hang on, is this why you and Olu were being so weird?” Stede demanded, because it would definitely explain why Olu had gotten all cagey at the mere mention of his partner, let alone why the two of them had been flitting about all day.

“Yeah, he swore us to secrecy,” Lucius said, with a roll of his eyes.  “Said it had to be just the right moment.  He’s kind of a drama queen, actually.”

The right moment?  Stede looked at the clock, and… of course.  6:05 PM.  Just after closing.  And for the first time since they’d last spoken, Stede at last knew exactly where to find him.  “He’s in the coffee shop,” he said simply, heart pounding so hard now that he could barely hear his own words.  “He’s waiting for me.”

“Yep, that checks out,” Lucius agreed, far too casually for what had to be one of the most monumental moments in Stede’s life.

Hell, there should be an orchestra, or maybe something happening in slow motion: anything cinematic.  But perhaps that was up to him.  And without another word, he darted towards the door with the newspaper clutched tightly in his hand, not sure he was ever going to be able to put it down – he wanted to cling onto this feeling forever.

“Remember, you owe me!” Lucius called after him with laughter in his voice, as Stede rushed out of the bookshop.  “100 quid for the dream guy, 500 quid if–”

Either the door had shut behind him or Stede had gotten too far away to hear, but it didn’t matter.  He didn’t care what was behind him, just what was in front of him, as he ran down the street and around the corner, newspaper flapping alongside him like it was trying to escape from his grip and take flight, but he wasn’t going to let it.  He skidded to a stop outside Kraken Coffee, pausing to catch his breath so he didn’t wind up barging unceremoniously in through the door unable to speak.  Through the window, he could see that the lights were on: that low lighting he had come to expect from their after-hours rendezvous’, which had been notably absent these past few days.  Which meant that he was right, that Ed must be here waiting for him, and that set his heart off beating rapidly again, despite his best efforts to calm himself down.  Concluding that it was ultimately a lost cause, he took a final deep breath, ignored the CLOSED sign staring him right in the face, and pushed at the handle.  A rush went through him as the door opened, and he stepped into the familiar warmth of the coffee shop, but as he walked to the middle of the room, he couldn’t help but feel a little unbalanced.  The lights may have been on and the door may have been unlocked, but Ed wasn’t behind the counter, and Stede’s heart skipped a beat this time, wondering if he’d made some kind of mistake, read things wrong again, wound up here when he wasn’t supposed to after all.

“Ed?” he called out nervously, taking another cautious step towards the counter, when he heard a voice off in the corner of the room.

“Looking for someone?” the voice asked, all low and rumbling, and Stede could burst open with joy at the mere sound of it.

“Ed!” he exhaled, in a mixture of happiness and relief, as he turned to face his favourite chair in the corner – just as he should have expected, a second chair was set up opposite, its back facing the rest of the room, but there was a familiar head of hair peeking up over the top, and Stede watched as Ed stood from the armchair, still with his back turned, and – oh, Stede would recognise that pyramid jacket anywhere.  The promised replica from the movie, at last, and it looked fantastic, of course… but then Ed turned around, and his face was an even more welcome sight.

“Dunno if you saw the sign on the door, we’re actually closed,” Ed said casually, but the grin on his face was as clear as day, a grin that Stede hadn’t been sure he’d ever see again, and as Ed walked over and Stede gazed at his smiling face in the low light, he forgot pretty much everything he’d wanted to say to him.  That was, until Ed finally stopped in front of him with a slightly expectant look, like he was waiting for Stede to speak next, which he realised he probably should, even if he wasn’t entirely sure where to begin.  And so, in the absence of all other thoughts, he went for the obvious.

“You wrote me a personal ad,” he said, weakly jiggling the newspaper in his hand.

Ed looked down at it with a shy sort of smile on his face.  “Yeah,” he said, “I did.”

“It’s lovely.”

“Learned from the best,” Ed chuckled, before pausing to scratch at the back of his neck a little awkwardly.  “Your, uh… little bookshop friend told me you had a big stupid crush on me, or whatever.”

“He was right,” Stede said, wondering if Lucius had used those exact words, but deciding he didn’t care, because it was certainly accurate.  “Mostly the stupid part.”

“Hey, c’mon,” Ed said, expression dipping into a frown.  “Probably… wasn’t the best flirting tactic to help you find some other dude to go out with.  Just wanted an excuse to talk to you.  Kinda backfired.”

“Maybe we’re both a bit stupid, then,” Stede suggested, a smile playing at his lips.

“Nah,” Ed said, wrinkling his nose and shaking his head.  “Smart as hell.”

Stede huffed out a laugh, surprised by how easy it was to talk to him now that they were on the same page.  It was like they’d hardly ever been apart.  “I like this,” he said, reaching out to graze his fingers against the sleeve of Ed’s jacket, eager to see it properly close up.

“Yeah?” Ed asked, stepping back and dutifully giving him a slow spin to show off the design sewn into the back in full detail.  “Thought I’d dress to impress.”

And Stede was impressed – it was so clearly DIY in a way that he found utterly charming.  He could imagine Ed pausing the movie at exactly the right moment to get a good look, gathering the right materials, sewing it all together and wearing it around proudly, knowing exactly how cool he looked.  And then, all these years later, wearing it again for Stede.  Although…

“Shouldn’t I be the one wearing it?” he asked, feeling bold all of a sudden.  “Since you’re desperately seeking me?”  It felt like a bit of a risk, to be teasing him like this so soon after… everything, but it was a risk that paid off, Ed’s face splitting into a wide smile.

“Yeah, alright,” he said, shrugging it off and immediately handing it over.  “As long as you don’t rip it with those massive fucking biceps.”

Stede let out a little giggle as he removed his burgundy checkered blazer (autumn vibes, always) folding it over the back of the closest chair as he slipped into Ed’s jacket – it was in fact a little tight on him, especially around the shoulders, but he could feel Ed’s heat radiating off it, and couldn’t help but wrap it even tighter around himself, wondering if it would be possible to feel this way forever.  Warm and snug and held.  All at once, he needed Ed to feel the same way.

“Here, you can wear mine,” he insisted, picking up his blazer again and passing it over, watching as Ed, still smiling, put it on.  There was something thrilling, he felt, in lending Ed his clothes.  Giving him a piece of himself, just like he’d given him that book.  Trusting him to keep it safe.  But there was one thing he still hadn’t given him, one thing he’d come all the way here to say, so he might as well say it now.  Reaching out, he rested his hand on Ed’s arm, and looked directly into his eyes.  “I’m sorry, Ed,” he said, as sincerely as he’d ever spoken the words.

“Me too,” Ed replied, much to Stede’s surprise – but when he raised his eyebrows, Ed went on.  “For avoiding you.  And telling everyone else to avoid you.  N’trying to get you to stay away,” he mumbled, looking down at his shoes, suddenly shy again.  “Just… hurt, y’know?”

“I know,” Stede replied, as gently as he could, as he stepped in a little closer.  “Thanks for… letting me come back,” he chuckled, turning to look at the empty coffee shop around them, this place they’d spent so many evenings together, each of them burned into his memory as clearly as what he was seeing before him now – which was Ed tilting his head up again, a fond look on his face.

“To be honest, mate,” he said, leaning in towards him, their noses brushing together as he spoke.  “You never fucking left.”

Stede wrote Lucius a cheque for £600 the next morning.

Chapter Text

2024

“Grandad?  What’re these?”

Stede looked up from his book to find his grandson standing in front of him, holding a large frame containing two neat scraps of paper placed side by side, like they belonged together.  Which, of course, they did.  “Ah,” he smiled, setting his book on the arm of his chair, because something like this required his full attention.  “Now these are from something very, very old called a newspaper.”

“I know what newspapers are,” James said flatly.  “We still have newspapers.”

“Alright!” Stede huffed – apparently his infamous bitchiness was a dominant trait passed on through the generations.  Still, he wasn’t going to let that stop him.  “Well, before all of this online dating business, people used to find people to go out with in the paper.  I know that might sound weird, but you’ve got to remember, there was no Tinder or Grindr back then!”

“Don’t talk to my 8-year-old about Grindr, dad,” an equally flat voice interrupted from across the room.

“It’s quite alright, Alma, I know what I’m talking about.”

“Don’t think you do, love,” a second voice chimed in.

“Okay, thank you, Edward!” Stede retorted, feeling rather like he was being ganged up on here.  “You’re no more tech-savvy than me – I had to show you where to plug the wire into the thingy the other day, didn’t I?”

“Is that how you met grandpa?” James asked, before Ed could come up with another rebuttal.

Stede chuckled.  “Well, not exactly,” he said, since it was a hell of a lot more complicated than that.  “But I was looking at some of them when he first noticed me.”

“Eh, I’d noticed you before then,” Ed said.

“You had?” Stede asked, looking over at him in surprise, because this was certainly news to him!

“Mmm,” Ed nodded, a faraway look on his face, “always sitting there in the corner, with your books.”

“I am an avid reader!” Stede beamed.

“Yeah,” Ed smiled back at him, “I know.  And a snappy dresser.  Those little outfits always caught my eye.”

Stede could hardly believe this – all these years, these nearly three decades, he’d been under the impression that they’d only ever spoken to each other because Ed had had to kick him out of his coffee shop!  But apparently they could have met well before then, if Ed had actually bothered to introduce himself earlier.  “Well, you should have come up and said something!” he said, frankly a little distressed that he’d been deprived of possibly several bonus months’ worth of Ed’s company.

“Didn’t wanna interrupt your reading, did I?” Ed asked, sounding a little defensive.

“…Hmm, okay, no, I wouldn’t have liked that,” Stede admitted, although he was sure he could have made an exception.  “I mean, if it was you doing the interrupting, I probably wouldn’t have minded.”

“Yeah, you would,” Ed retorted.  “You never would’ve married me.”

“Okay, I think that’s an exaggeration,” Stede said, before turning back to the boy who was still standing in front of him.  “He’s very dramatic, your grandpa.”

“Good thing you like theatre,” Ed piped up with a smug grin.

“And he’s very proud he knows my ad off by heart.”

“When my memory goes, that’ll be all that’s left,” Ed said, tapping at his temple.  “Rattling around up there.”

Stede wondered if it was normal to find that idea very romantic, and then decided he didn’t care, because very little of their romance had been all that normal.

“So why did you do this then?” James asked, looking back at the frame with his brow all wrinkled, and Stede couldn’t blame him for being confused.

“Well, it’s a bit of a long story,” he began, because he was never one to rush through and fudge details, especially not for a tale as important as this… although that did give him an idea.  “We could actually do it for storytime, if you like?” he suggested brightly.

“Nahhhhh, babe, we’ve gotta finish Peter and Wendy,” Ed protested.  “Reckon I’ve nailed the Captain Hook voice by now.”

“I should think so,” Stede said, eyebrows raised.  “You’ve been practicing it every night.”

“Can’t be shown up at storytime, love.  I’m competing with an expert, here.”

“It’s not a competition, darling,” Stede reminded him, although their recent attempts to improve upon each other as they went through the book had certainly resulted in some rather excellent voices, so maybe a little friendly rivalry wasn’t such a bad thing.

Almost as if he was reading Stede’s mind, Ed called out, “hey, Alma – you reckon your dad gets competitive over story time or what?”

“No comment,” Alma said.

“Will you two stop ganging up on me?!” Stede exclaimed, having had quite enough of it so far this evening.

“Nope.”

“Nah.”

“Honestly, the pair of you–”

***

James sighed and went to put the frame back where he’d found it.  He didn’t know what he’d expected – his grandad always wound up going on and on about random stuff whenever he asked him a question (probably because he was, like, 100 years old) and his grandpa wasn’t much better.  The two of them could talk for hours, and most of it didn’t make much sense.  Maybe his mum would explain it all to him later, since she was a bit less weird than either of them.

Ah well, things could be worse.

At least when they were talking, they weren’t kissing.