Chapter Text
Professor Edward Teach doesn’t get stumped. Oh, sure, he doesn’t know everything; he’s not foolish enough to think that. But if he doesn’t know a thing, he’s generally unmatched at finding out the answer.
Which makes it mystifying how entirely at a loss he is when it comes to one Professor Stede Bonnet.
The ceramics class was a stroke of genius, if he says so himself. It was a delight to say outrageously suggestive things and watch Stede blush. Show off a little, if he’s honest.
There seemed to be an awful lot of favorable data points. They were vibing. He could feel it.
But then that blasted phone call at exactly the wrong time from Izzy. What a fucking nightmare.
“You need other friends,” Ed growled, when he pulled up behind Izzy’s broken-down car and Izzy got in. “If it weren’t February, I’d’ve told you to start walking.”
“Fucking hell, Edward. Not like I asked you for a kidney.” Izzy buckled himself in. Ed merely grumbled as he pulled back into traffic.
“Aww,” Izzy said derisively, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “In a bad mood? What, did I cockblock you or something?”
Ed ground his teeth, struggling to keep his cool. “Yeah, I think maybe you fucking did,” he gritted out.
Izzy barked out a laugh that didn’t sound sorry at all.
Ed could feel his guts churning and his temper rising, and he fucking hated it. Hated how messed up and raw and out-of-control it made him feel. Like he was his father’s son after all.
Hated that maybe, maybe, he could’ve had his hands on Stede right then, feeling really fucking good.
And instead, there he was, full of the worst possible feelings—all sorts of anger and resentment and frustration—for the sake of someone who not only didn’t appreciate his sacrifice, but was going out of his way to mock him and make light of what he just gave up. Fuck that.
“Get a fucking Uber next time,” he said shortly, speeding off as soon as he’d left Izzy at his home.
In a word: it sucked.
Because—whatever Izzy might have been thinking—it wasn’t just a matter of interrupting Ed potentially getting laid.
Which might be what enraged Ed the most: how Izzy’s reaction cheapened the whole thing.
Stede’s special. And Ed really, really likes him.
Does Ed want to rock his world? Fuck yeah. Obviously.
But it’s so much more than that.
Ed doesn’t get close to anyone. Not as a friend, not as a lover. Who would want to, once they actually got to know him? And whom could he trust?
Izzy’s on a very short list of people whose calls he allows through.
And it’s not like their friendship—if it’s not unfairly stretching the definition of the word to call it that—isn’t dysfunctional.
When Ed takes stock of the relationships in his life, which he typically tries not to, it isn’t pretty.
But then Stede came along. Golden-haired, enthusiastic, adorable madman that he is. Ed hasn’t stopped thinking about him since they met.
And he can’t help noticing how easy it is when they’re together. How they just click. Stede is fun. It’s so playful and seamless, every time.
Ed wants so badly to stop pretending. To let things be intimate, in every sense of the word.
So, to get interrupted at the one moment when maybe they could have turned their pretend relationship into a real one, without making a big thing of it? Gutting.
And now, quite frankly: Ed doesn’t know what to do. He’s completely stymied.
It’s been radio silence from Stede since that evening; not that he expected anything different. After all, he was the one who cut the evening short. Ed groans a grisly mental groan every time he thinks about it.
But it is what it is, now. What’s the appropriate course of action in this situation?
Should he concoct another plan for a fake date and hope it goes just as well?
Ed’s a confident man, but capturing lightning in a bottle twice in a row is a pretty tall ask, even for him.
Should he send Stede a message and make boring, pointless small talk? They never seem to text casually; it’s all plans for their pretend dates, with big silences in between. But is making casual conversation his best option?
Should he send some links to random funny internet shit? Silly rock jokes?
Or just come out and say, “Hey, mate. We almost kissed, didn’t we? Wanna try that again?”
It’s tempting, Ed can’t lie.
But the thought of throwing something out there via text and having to wait for an answer—uh, that’s a no. Even texting to ask if they can talk on the phone feels fraught.
Ed needs to look into Stede’s eyes when they have this conversation; that’s all there is to it. But how to make that happen?
He’s a man of action, but this is one time he simply doesn’t know what course to chart.
While he’s still hemming and hawing and trying to make up his mind about what to do, his dilemma gets solved by his phone dinging.
It’s Stede.
Ed feels stupidly giddy, all heart-eyes and rainbows and shit. He does a little chair dance as he opens up his phone to take a look:
Ed stares at his phone blankly for a minute, before he has to laugh. He’d thought if he heard from Stede, he’d finally have clarity. But honestly, this invitation is the exact opposite.
Is Stede ramping things up, inviting him to audition for the role of Stede’s actual boyfriend by introducing him to his kids?
Or is it a deliberate deescalation from last time? Is Stede bringing his kids along so they can hang out, but they’ll have to keep things chaste?
But, at the end of the day: does it even matter? Because there’s only one answer to give.
