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Stede was used to feeling lonely. It wasn’t something he was going to admit, of course. It would only add strain on the few relationships he did maintain. He knew he could be rather more than ‘a bit’ much. He was, at times, fussy and hyperfixated on things that didn’t matter much to anybody else.
He had done his best not to overly annoy his now ex-wife Mary. They’d known they weren’t really a good match for a while, and had quietly opened up their marriage when Louis was ten and Alma thirteen. Divorce wasn’t really in the cards, certainly not until the children graduated. The day after Louis moved into his dorm, they signed the paperwork, friendly but not really close. So it wasn’t like Stede could tell Mary it felt lonely and quiet in his new little cottage. His kids were grown--hell, he’d done shots with Alma on her 21st at a very overwhelming gay bar--but that hardly meant he should be going to them with his problems!
He did have a few friendly faces where he worked in the fairly prestigious history department at a nearby college. His doctoral candidates were almost friends at times. Lucius, his first doctoral candidate and his TA, was bombastic and loud--and eternally behind on his dissertation about the development of Damaron’s Address Book--which was often called the “Green Book for Gays”--and how it shaped development and locations of queer culture. Frenchie, his other doctoral student, was straddling history and music, writing about the way various songs were used to signify safety and community.
They had both been assigned to Stede, simply because Stede was known for his research in various queer cultures, especially in the last several years as he started to come out. His particular focus had been queer indigenous populations and how they shifted from acceptance to adopting the colonizer's less flexible views. Lucius was known to drag Stede out for a drink but, he was fairly sure, that was mostly because Stede was simply present when the offers were occurring. He doubted these men, ten years or more his junior, wanted his company.
Still, it warmed him immensely when they went to their friend John’s drag shows and included him. Maybe they weren’t ever going to be close friends who talk about their struggles, but that was okay. Stede would rather have something than the nothing at all he’d end up with once he pushed it. He could often see their eyes start to glaze as he dumped information, even if it was relevant to their respective studies!
So, Stede was accustomed to loneliness.
It was Buttons, the very odd biology professor, who put the idea in his head, ultimately. Stede had been minding his own business in the faculty lounge, trying desperately to get the kettle to boil, and making small talk with the odd Scottish man. “I noticed a flock of ravens near my new place. Or perhaps crows? Honestly I’m not sure of the difference.”
Buttons had proceeded to provide Stede with a frightful amount of information. “Ravens are unlikely, nae here. Likely crows, and a good thing. Ravens are massive beasties with thicker beaks and tend to stick to themselves or be in pairs.” Admittedly some of his following ramble was confusing, a rant about various wingspans and flapping versus soaring, before he came to a sort of conclusion. “Nae, crows are what you have, Captain, and no mistake. You can befriend them, you know. A little kindness, patience, and small trinkets, and you’ll find they’re good friends to you.”
Well, Stede was lonely. And he had nothing but time, really. So, he decided to give it a shot.
He started leaving out unsalted peanuts, making sure the birds saw him deliver them and the fresh water before he withdrew. Every morning and evening he fed his birds, and tried not to feel like an old man about it. In the afternoons, he started sitting out by his deck, reading whatever obscure book he’d dug up that day, quietly scribbling notes. At Button’s suggestion, he started whistling when he came out with food.
And over the weeks, the birds went from scattering at the sight of him to lingering nearby, grabbing food and fleeing. And then they stuck around. And he started talking to them.
“It isn’t that I’m not used to being lonely,” he admitted, tossing out a few more peanuts to the sleek black birds who bobbed closer. “It’s just…I had always kind of hoped, you know? It’s silly. Maybe I should just get a cat. Someone to be happy to see me.”
“Croa?” the bird croaked and Stede smiled.
“Ok, well, I suppose you guys count. You’re happy enough to see me. And, if I’m lucky, I can train you to relieve yourselves over some very specific houses. How are you at reading maps?”
“Croa!”
He laughed at himself. It was silly, of course, but somehow it was cathartic, seeing these wild things, living their lives alongside his, maybe a little enriched by his?
One of the crows seemed more interested in him than the rest. It had a kind of graying jacket, and Buttons identified it as a hooded crow. Stede named him Jeff.
Jeff was a little smaller but he was clever and chatty. When Stede talked to them about the interminable department chair meeting, Jeff cawed derisively. When Stede admitted that he was sad for what might happen to his birds in the winter, Jeff crooned sweetly. He tossed Jeff peanuts that the bird caught in midair to make Stede laugh. Whenever Stede came out to see the birds, Jeff was the one he looked for first.
“Croa!’ Jeff sounded triumphant and very proud of himself, breast pushed out as he looked at Stede.
“Hello there my handsome boy!” Jeff hopped sideways, back and forth, like he always did when he was especially excited. Stede tossed him a nut and the bird caught it, but instead of eating he set it down and pecked twice at something, before grabbing his food and heading off to the nearest tree. “What in the world?” Stede approached, and he noticed something. It was a shiny binder clip. “Oh! Th-thank you!”
Stede took the binder clip inside when he finally had to admit it was time for his own dinner. He set it out on the table, feeling an odd sort of care from his birds. Maybe a little less lonely.
The gifts from his feathered friends kept coming. Stede liked to keep most of them in a bowl, something pleasant to look at when he felt lonesome. After the binder clip was a small ball of tinfoil and then a few pretty pebbles. There was a tiny toy robot and some bent nails, bits and bobs he couldn't quite identify. By and large the gifts were sweet, but innocuous.
Until the day he saw Jeff drop a keyring at Stede’s feet.
Just the empty ring would have been nothing particularly worth mentioning, of course. But this wasn’t empty. It had three keys and a strange charm. It wasn’t rusted like the clip or filthy like the other (empty) keyring from Jeff. No, this wasn’t just a random trash find.
This was someone’s keys.
Stede had several horrible memories of losing his keys. As a very young boy, the housekeeper or nanny had always been home, but when Stede turned eight, he’d been given a house key and the staff was rarely present after school. Later, he would realize that it was an economicization by his father, who had made some bad investments, but at the time he assumed it was because he was growing up. He had been so proud to let himself in every afternoon, allowed to make a snack (provided he made no mess) and watch TV until his father came home later.
Then one day, he had run afoul of the Badminton twins. They were a year older than Stede (but in his grade thanks to lackluster performance) and absolute bullies. They had decided that they should stick Stede’s head in the toilet. He fought them tooth and nail and managed to escape--leaving behind his jacket and his keys. When he’d tried to grab the latter, Nigel (or was it Chauncy?) had thrown his keys in the toilet and flushed.
There was no one Stede could call. Cell phones weren’t yet a thing, and even if they had been, his father wouldn’t have answered for Stede. Instead, the boy had waited on the stoop, where his father had found him, shivering and miserable, at eight when he came home. Stede had hoped his father would agree he had been punished enough, but his father had made him wait all week.
That was his usual punishment if Stede lost his keys, either through an actual childish accident or intervention of his bullies. As he was older, Stede was more clever about finding other places to wait--namely libraries. He remembered vividly the time he was finally able to get a key cut, a copy all his own that he could hide in a secure location outside. The utter relief that he had this bit of security had been intoxicating. To this day, Stede would check his pockets sometimes to make sure he hadn’t lost his keys out of nowhere.
So Stede knew, quite well, the anxiety, the horror, of lost keys.
He turned over the keys, a more careful examination. One was a vehicle key of some kind, black plastic topped with an emblem he didn’t immediately recognize. He moved on to the next. This one had a recognizable logo on it, and Stede’s eyebrows went up. He had the same logo on his keys, from a nearby smallish hardware store. “Well, they were from Jeff, so he can’t have flown them here from too far,” Stede reasoned. Above him, Jeff gave another self satisfied Craw! The third key was squat, with fat plastic on the top half, the key hinged to hide inside. There was a short series of numbers and, on one side, it read “U-STOR.” Stede hummed as he flipped to the last part, a keychain of some kind?
It was a laminated shirtless man with very pretty brown skin and a stunning amount of muscle. Stede knew that torso, he realized; it was Rege-Jean Page, as the Duke of Hastings from Bridgerton. He was surrounded by cartoon stars in yellow and pink, and a caption of “My Little Meow Meow.” The plastic was filled with some liquid and glitter, Stede realized. It was a terribly over-the-top but kind of…well, cute. It was the sort of thing that he’d have expected Alma or her friends to own. That made him more convinced he needed to get this back to the owner.
Still, it wouldn’t do not to thank the birds and offer up their other treats. He’d read online that they enjoyed dog food and he’d bought some very high quality food for them. That was Jeff’s favorite. Birds satisfied, Stede took the keys inside. A closer investigation showed no significant markings on the shirtless keychain, no maker marks. The mark on the key, a stylized “Indian”, was for Indian Motorcycles. “Seems an odd choice for a teen.” He was considering going to the hardware store as a last resort, as he typed “U-STOR” into google.
It came up with a storage facility! Stede did a happy little shimmy in his chair. This was progress! Unlikely as it seemed for a teen, maybe it was the mother of a teenager? Or a father? The thought made him roll his eyes. You just want it to be an attractive queer man who feels so beholden to you that he agrees to dinner.
Still. The horribly named storage facility had only one location, not too far from Stede. And, sure enough, the flipside of the key had a number #1717 stamped on it. He dialed the number he found for the facility and was annoyed when it rang seven times before someone answered with a confused, “Um, hello?”
Stede put on his best posh voice, “Isn’t this the U-STOR facility?”
“Oh yeah, sorry. U-STOR, where you store it and we…like…keep it safe or something. This is Pete, how can I help you?”
“Yes, I’m Stede Bonnet, I’m calling because I located a lost set of keys with a key from your facility. I’m hoping to get the contact information for the owner--”
“Wait, Stede? Bonnet?” the lackadaisical voice piped up, actually intrigued. When Stede cautiously confirmed his name, the employee said, “Shit my boyfriend knows you! Don’t you Lu?”
To Stede’s surprise, a familiar voice piped in, “Is that my Stede? What’re the odds on that shit?” then, closer to the phone, came, “Stede? It’s Lucius! What’s up!”
“That’s unexpected. Why are you at the storage facility?”
“Just having…lunch…with my boyfriend," Lucius replied with a giggle. “What?” he giggled away from the phone, “something was consumed!” Back towards the phone he continued, “I can’t believe I’m here when you called! Are you doing drinks with us this Friday?”
He flushed, uncertain. “Um. Yes, I suppose?”
“Meet us at eight at Jackie’s, yea? I’ll bring Petey by to meet everyone,” he heard the obvious sounds of smooching and then Lucius said, “Ok well thanks for calling!”
“Lucius! I needed something!” What was with the boy and getting distracted?
A giggling answered and then he heard Pete’s voice. “Um yea what?”
“I found someone’s keys. It’s key 1717. I wanted to find the person’s information.” He knew he should have asked about leaving the keys, having Pete call the owner himself. But…well, he wanted to see this through. It definitely wasn’t because he was bored or lonely. Nope.
“Oh yea, one sec. That’s Ed Teach’s locker. Cool dude, rides a motorcycle, lots of leather. Oh, should we invite him to Jackie’s?” Somehow the knowledge that the key owner was a man and welcome at the gay club made him feel suddenly anxious. Shouldn’t he just let Pete handle it then? He never did well around attractive or suave people. They just always made Stede so nervous. “You gotta pen? I’ll give you his number.”
Stede scribbled down the number quickly and thanked Pete. “Um, thank you? Just…checking, should you give me that information? Isn’t it…privileged or something?”
Pete snorted, “Meh, who cares. It’s just stuff, man. Who gives a shit? Anyway, see you for drinks Friday!”
Somewhere behind Pete, Stede could hear Lucius shout, “Invite Ed!” as Stede hung up.
He stared at the phone for an embarrassing amount of time after that. Should he just call? Nobody answered unknown phone numbers, he could safely leave a message, right? Oh but the anxiety of a call was a lot. Maybe a polite text would be simpler. He’d be likely to see it, Stede could arrange to leave the keys somewhere--maybe with Pete at the storage facility--and he could opt out of this human interaction.
Stede was lonely a lot, but that didn’t mean he didn’t also have anxiety about it!
He drafted a dozen versions of the text.
-Hi this is Stede. I think I found your keys assuming this is Ed.
-Hi is this Ed? I am Stede and I may have found your keys
-Hi Ed, this is very odd to tell someone but I believe my bird friend deposited your keys in my lap
-Did you lose some keys recently? I think I found them. BTW this is Stede and you are Ed.
Ugh. He was backspacing them all when his finger hit the green button and a familiar buzzing of a ringing phone cut through his remaining neurons. He had long enough to panic before a warm voice with a familiar accent purred down the line a terribly inquisitive, “Hello?”
“Oh no. Oh um, you’re Stede? No, I’m Stede, that was very silly of me, that’s not what I meant. You’re Ed? I mean are you Ed? Oh god I’m so bad on the phone,” his stupid words raced away without him.
The man on the phone laughed, but it wasn’t meanspirited. It was warm and kind of sweet. “Deep breath, mate.” Stede did so, sort of hypnotized by the warmth in the voice. “Phone anxiety’s a bitch innit?”
“You have no idea,” he admitted. “I’m so sorry.”
“S’alright, mate. Let’s try again, yea?” He paused and then cleared his throat. “Hello?”
“Yes, I’m calling to speak to Edward Teach. Would that be you?” Maybe this was the wrong number and then he’d never talk to this man again. Although that would also mean he had zero leads which was not exactly ideal.
The warm voice replied, “I am Edward Teach. Call me Ed, though. And you must be this Stede fellow I’ve heard so much about lately.”
He laughed weakly. “Yes, I suppose I am.”
“Well, Stede, I’m pleased to hear from you,” Ed’s warm purr seemed amused, but not pointed at Stede. Why did he have such a strong reaction to this man’s voice? “But why am I hearing from you?”
“Well, it’s an odd situation,” Stede admitted. “Do you happen to be missing a set of keys? With perhaps a motorcycle key and a very lovely…shirtless man?”
The line was quiet for so long Stede thought he’d dropped the call before Ed answered, “And…you found those keys?” His voice had gone from buttery smooth teasing to raspy and hoarse.
Stede hesitated, then moved his phone to camera mode. He texted the photo of the keys to the stranger. “Are these yours?”
“Fuck…yep. Those…those’re mine,” Ed sounded uncomfortable and Stede wasn’t sure why the change. “So you found ‘em. And then found me?”
“Admittedly, the whole story is bizarre. Um, I’m happy to return the keys to you? At your convenience?” It felt so awkward to have something so personal.
Still, Ed was quiet a long moment before he said, “I went to visit some friends. I’m headed back the day after tomorrow. Can I just stop at yours and pick up the keys on my way home? That way I don’t have to dig out the spare.”
Oh. That made sense. “Yes, of course.” Stede rattled off his address. “Do you have a time frame?”
Ed hummed. “Afternoon-ish? I can text you on the way?”
“As long as you’re driving safely,” Stede cautioned.
To his surprise, Ed laughed. “I promise to drive safely, Stede. But if something happens, I’m happy to bequeath to you my stupid keyring.” It surprised a laugh from him and Stede felt a weird warmth. It felt odd how much he liked this stranger.
“Okay. I’ll…see you the day after tomorrow, Ed.”
The warm tone was back, happy and amused. “I’ll see you the day after tomorrow, Stede.”
Stede had been surprised how easily he and Ed texted back and forth. It had gone from pictures of a dog in goggles (a ‘thank you’ for finding him, Ed insisted) Stede felt anxious the whole day. He had taken his strongest anxiety medication to knock him out last night and today he had woken up at eight and was just…waiting. He knew he would be worthless at work. He’d spend the whole day fretting about Ed. He’d told Lucius some confusing meandering excuse about needing to stay at home for his birds or something.
The boy laughed at him over the line. “You know that sounds insane, right babes?”
“Lucius, I’m serious! This is all my fault, I have a responsibility to return the keys.” Stede had to admit to himself (and never aloud to Lucius) that excuse sounded very weak.
Lu laughed. “Mmkay babes. You’re definitely allowed to be anxious about your visitor. I mean, I’ve met Ed, okay. You enjoy everything, alright?”
Stede didn’t hang up though. Instead, he blurted out, “What do you mean?” He squirmed a little but he knew he had to ask. “I…please don’t…this is very hard for me Lucius. Especially when you know things I don’t know and you won’t tell me.”
“Aw shit. Stede I’m sorry. It’s not like that. Ed is a nice enough dude, far as I know. I’ve just seen him, he’s just…he’s handsome,” Lucius admitted.
That was something that would have made Stede more uncomfortable if it wasn’t for the texts.
Ed had been texting him, on and off, since last night. And Stede had been replying.
Ed: So please don’t judge me by my keys?
Stede: too late.
Stede: I already judged you as a nice person who shops locally for keys rather than at the big box stores.
Ed: mate I meant by the keychain. I can explain I swear.
Stede: You...can explain Rege Jean Page being hot?
Stede: be…cause I can’t. He just is.
Ed: LMAO. Fair.
Ed: Tho it’s not Rege Jean Page.
Ed: Maybe look at the face closer.
Stede had, and realized it wasn’t the actor’s face above the pretty shirtless torso. No, it was a familiar seeming long haired man, a painted image, with a thin mustache.
It had made him laugh out loud as he laid in bed.
Stede: is that Rene Descartes on Rege Jean Page?
Ed: It’s Rene Jean Page
Ed: I SAID I COULD EXPLAIN
Stede: I kind of don’t want you to. No explanation will be as great as this.
They had texted that first night until nearly two in the morning, all about nothing in particular and yet somehow about everything. He learned that Ed was an only child, that he loved watching terrible horror movies. He didn’t know anything about bugs but Ed listened to Stede chatter on about them and asked actual questions. After midnight, Ed had just called, complaining that he wanted to hear Stede talk about the bugs. In return, he’d loved hearing Ed’s sonorous voice talking about laying out and watching the stars and planets. It almost felt like lying next to him.
The thing was, everything with Ed made Stede feel…not lonely. He didn’t feel excluded when the talk turned to soft teasing and Ed never once made Stede feel stupid or silly or like he was too much. Ed seemed to enjoy all of Stede’s little foibles and exposed his own quirks in return. They’d texted the next day, more intermittently, Ed admitting that he was busy with his friends. He’d assumed he wouldn’t hear anything more--except after ten, his phone buzzed on the table with a call from Ed. He cheerfully regailed karaoke with his friends, laughing about how he only felt his age around them. Stede tried not to feel relieved that Ed was his age, honestly. He wasn’t sure how, but they had ended up cueing up some absolutely dire movie, watching it together from afar and laughing at it. Ed was the one who had, seemingly reluctantly, said he needed to go, needed his sleep so he could drive home the next day.
And Stede had a hard time remembering that ‘home’ wasn’t together in some way.
So, yes, when Ed texted with an ETA, Stede’s nerves squirmed. He was excited to meet Ed--and terrified! What if Ed found him dull in person? What if, once Ed actually met Stede, he found Stede to be too much? He never had quite gotten the hang of the balance between being dull and being obnoxious. And it had barely been a day and change and he wasn’t sure how in the hell he’d manage it once Ed was tired of him.
Ed had promised he’d arrive around 3pm. A soft rapping at his door interrupted Stede’s Definitely Not Anxiety just after 2:45, and he bit his lip. He could do this. He was just returning some keys. And maybe meeting someone he’d spent most of the last two days thinking about.
As he opened the door, Stede felt frozen.
Oh no. He’s hot.
Ed wasn’t sure how this guy found his keys. He was almost a mile away from Ed’s place, so it seemed odd he’d found them, but maybe Ed lost his keys in a park or something? That he definitely walked through. Because he totally loved nature.
Y’know. From a distance.
Ed felt oddly glad that Stede had found his keys. Well obviously thankful, he fucking hated replacing his keys and shit, let alone the shit he coudln’t replace. But…fuck, he’d spent most of the night before chatting with Stede. And a large chunk of this morning, thankful for his text-to-speech options on his bike. Like, Annie had stolen Ed’s (thankfully fucking locked) phone to keep him from being too distracted at their karaoke night.
So basically he was kind of ecstatic to meet this maniac. Stede was fucking hilarious and adorable. He was unique and funny. In the countless hours they’d spent talking, Stede had never bothered to ask about Ed’s job. Instead he’d asked about the shit Ed enjoyed in life, his favorite foods and books and bugs (which, who had a favorite bug? Except Stede did, the cute maniac!). It was refreshing and fun and he fucking enjoyed it. So what if he’d sped a little more than necessary on the bike to get to the address Stede had sent? So what if he was thinking about Stede’s confession about how coming out late-in-life had him feeling like he’d missed out and how Ed had thought about all the things he’d gladly introduce a funny sweet baby gay to?
Calm the fuck down, Teach. You don’t even know if he’s cute. He could look like fucking Quasimodo.
Except he was pretty sure he didn’t care? He figured Stede probably wasn’t conventionally attractive, not after hearing his woes in dating. But that didn’t really matter. Like, even if Stede wasn’t the most handsome guy, he had a beautiful inner light. Ed didn’t usually get hung up about people’s physical features, he could find something hot in just about anybody. Finding something to like in a sweetly ebullient man like Stede? Piece of cake.
So Ed rapped on the door, bouncing on his toes, fully excited to meet someone he was already mentally preparing to try and woo--if not outright seduce. But when the door opened, he felt his feet thud flatly, his jaw threatening to drop.
Stede wasn’t Quasimodo by any fucking stretch of the imagination. No, he was nearly Ed’s height, but so fucking broad Ed had a moment’s irrational worry he’d barely get his arms around those shoulders. His body dipped to a trimmer waist (but with a little bit of middle aged belly that was terribly fucking cute) and legs that seemed to go on for a mile, built more perfectly than anything sculpted out of marble. His face was sweet, a strong nose, stunning hazel eyes that shifted colors, and toped with Prince fucking Charming’s swooped golden hair.
No, Stede was fucking stunning.
And he was staring at Ed with a near identical amount of surprise. “Oh! Sorry, please. Come on in?”
That was a great sign. Stede could have handed Ed his keys and pushed him out the door. Instead he’d invited him in.
“Could I make you some tea?”
Ed had no interest in tea, but he’d happily take any excuse to hang around. “Sounds good,” he gave his best sultry grin. He followed Stede into a charming kitchen nook and followed Stede’s gesture to sit at the little bar. The cute, slightly neurotic, blonde fussed with a tea kettle and, after a minute, brought out a teacup on a matching saucer. It had the blue-on-white pattern, delicate and very pretty.
“Would you like some sugar?”
“Yea please,” Ed took the opportunity to taste the tea plain and wrinkled his nose at the bitter taste behind Stede’s back. The cute blonde turned around with a small bowl of sugar cubes and a tiny set of tongs that were fucking adorable.
He grabbed up a couple cubes, adding it to the cup. He took another test sip and winced, reaching for more sugar. He noticed Stede’s lips twitch in a little smile as he went back for a third pass of the sugar. Stede took the tongs when Ed went for another taste and reached for a cube. He plopped an additional sugar in Ed’s tea, grinning. “Seven sugars.”
“Not the same with six,” Ed chuckled.
It would have been easy for Stede to mock him, he figured, but the cute blonde just smiled. “I’ll remember that,” he said softly and goddamn it Ed was going to fuck this man. And/or be fucked by him. Both, preferably. It was just the soft, fucking earnest and so fucking cute way he said it.
He sipped at his now sweet tea, but then hesitated, pulling the cup away from himself. Something in the pattern looked oddly familiar. His mom had never had any of those blue rose patterned china, so why did it look familiar? “Wait a minute?” he glanced up to see the blond covering his smile. “Is…” he looked up at Stede’s grin. “This is…are these dicks?”
Stede’s giggle was addictive. Ed wanted to hear it every fucking day. It was so terribly cute. Stede was beaming at him over his own teacup, decorated with hidden dicks. “I thought you’d find that fun.”
“What the hell, you’re a lunatic,” Ed grinned. “I fuckin love it,” he added, not wanting to risk Stede feeling offended. He set his tea down and noticed a fluted bowl with random nonsense in it. A binder clip, a button? “What’s all this then?”
Stede’s lips twitched. “Do you know, it actually has to do with how I found your keys? Oh god, I need to give you your keys back!” He went to a drawer and after a brief fumble he came over to Ed, key set in hand. “I’m terribly sorry, I’d forget my head and all. So it’s ironic it’s your keys that were lost,” he laughed softly.
“Yea you gotta explain how you found my keys.” Ed toyed with his dick-tea cup, smiling at the cute blonde.
Stede surprised him by smirking. “Well. Perhaps so, if you could explain what in the world is on your keys?”
Aw fuck. Ed knew he was blushing, feeling ridiculous. “A gift from an overzealous mum who thinks she’s funny?”
Stede threw back his head and let loose a surprising belly laugh. Ed wanted to get that sound out of him every day. He loved the stretch of Stede’s neck, the thick cords he wanted to bite. Fucking hell this man was adorable. “I rather like the sound of that, I admit,” he settled his chin in his hand. “My mother wasn’t the most loving, and then she died when I was fairly young.”
He winced, “Shit, man, I’m sorry.” How’d he managed to put his foot so thoroughly in his mouth?
Stede waved it away. “Oh, literally no worries. But…I admit I do love the fantasy of a mother who’s involved and ridiculous and overzealous.”
“Fuck, you’d love my mum then,” Ed admitted. “She knew my dad was a shithead, she did her best y’know. When she got the money to divorce him, she fought tooth and nail to get full custody, bent over backwards for me, y’know.” They had already talked about how they were both members of the Shitty Dead Dad Club. Which, if Ed was honest, was not usual; he didn’t discuss his dad with anyone under any circumstances. But Stede seemed to be the exception. “She’s always been a loving mom. When I came out to her, I was so scared because this woman is made to be the coolest grandmother in the world. We’re not just talking making cookies and swearing but like, genuinely loves bein’ around kids.”
Stede gave that dreamy smile again. “So I imagine that despite that she took your queerness well?”
Ed had to laugh, remembering. “I told her I was bisexual and she said ‘no shit, kid, me too.’ And like, a week later introduced me to her girlfriend.”
Stede giggled at that, just like Ed had hoped. “Oh dear. Well, that’s not too terrible an outcome, all things considered.”
Ed sipped at his tea, just liking having a thing to hold in his hands. “Well, she volunteers with some church program as a surrogate grandparent thing, and she goes to every pride event she can find to do mom hugs and grandma hugs. She’s pretty cool.”
Stede’s dreamy smile gave way to a glint in his eyes that Ed wasn’t sure how to interpret (other than ‘Makes Ed Want Railed’). “I notice you never explained this keychain though, Edward.”
He had to suppress a little shiver at his full name. Why was it so sexy coming from this maniac? “It was a gift from mum. We were watching Bridgerton together. You know, regency romance and bourbon, like you do with your queer adult son.”
Stede laughed, but it seemed more fond than anything else. “Oh, yes, as you do, of course. Naturally.”
It brought a giggle to Ed’s lips too. “But at the time I was getting a masters in philosophy and so she thought it was funny because I mixed up and called the actor Rene Descartes. So,” he shrugged, “like I said. She thinks she’s funny.”
The cute blonde’s giggle was fucking adorable. Good god Ed needed him carnally. “I think she’s right. She’s absolutely funny. I’d love to know more about your masters degree, though!”
Ed’s flush wasn’t because he was fantasizing about making this man his fucking wife. Nope. Totally chill. “It was my second masters, actually. I…kinda have my doctorate in neuroscience.”
He wasn’t sure how the fuck Stede managed to perk up further. “Oh! Fascinating! The brain is such a beautiful and complicated thing…according to my brain. Hm. Perhaps that’s bias?”
“What about you?” Ed wanted to know everything about this lunatic. He was beautiful and hilarious and sweet.
Stede ducked his chin and shrugged his shoulders, a cute shy little move. “I teach at the university. History, primarily although I’ve been known to pinch hit in English.” He cocked his head, “I’m fairly certain that’s how that sports analogy is used. I’m rather too gay.”
Ed snorted. “How would I know?” He threw a wink at Stede and enjoyed watching him squirm and blush. Fuck he was cute. Goddamn it. “So,” Ed folded his arms over his chest, enjoying the way Stede’s eyes traced over his tattoos and the flex of his biceps. “You going to explain how you got my keys? Is this a stalking situation, Mister Bonnet?”
The bright red that raced down Stede’s face made Ed think he’d miscalculated in his attempt to tease. When Stede stood up, he was sure of it. But then the man smiled a little and reached down with a hand. “Would you like me to show you?”
Ed didn’t need to take Stede’s hand to stand up. But goddamn he wanted to. Fuck, he had to to touch this beautiful man. His fingers were soft, warm, his fingers manicured and nails squared off. Ed’s fingers felt almost awkward, his cuticles torn and his black nail polish chipped. He might have been ashamed, except the warmth and strength in those fucking fingers made Ed feel faint. He was too busy thinking about the beautiful man to question why Stede was leading him outside.
“You planning to murder me?” Ed quipped, more breathlessly and less playfully than he had intended.
To his surprise, Stede giggled at that, a mischievous little grin popping up. “Only a little, I promise.”
Is a “little murder” like a “little death”? As in do I at least get an orgasm out of this?
Ed might have joked about it more but he was surprised by the oddly nice little backyard. It wasn’t that Stede’s house was bad by any means, of course. Ed loved every bit of personality he saw peeping through. But the backyard was oddly soothing, as if this was where he spent most of his time. There was a very comfortable outdoor furniture set, all artfully matched. He had fucking throw pillows, the sort of “splash of color” shit that Ed expected to see in the furniture section of the store, not in an actual guy’s outdoor spaces. Stede set down a few peanuts (from a pocket? What the fuck?) on a raised dish that looked like it had a delicately detailed pattern. Stede settled on the little loveseat and Ed eased down next to him, never letting go of the man’s hand. “You gonna explain?”
Stede hushed him softly. “Shh. It’ll be evident in a minute.”
Ed wasn’t sure what to do. He was sitting on a little loveseat, with the cutest maniac, and they were still holding hands and sitting quietly as the sun started to sink and the sky banded brilliant oranges and pinks. At a whisper, he finally asked, “What are we waiting for?”
As if he’d been waiting for that cue, overhead came a loud “Croa?”
Ed looked up to find a big, black bird descending to the plate. He stayed still, afraid to surprise the bird. Could birds get rabies? He knew bats could. But bats were mammals, right? Were birds dangerous? Stede, seemingly oblivious to Ed’s tension, smiled sweetly. “Jeff! Lovely to see you my dear. We were just discussing your nefarious deeds.”
The bird gave another “Craw!” and then picked up the peanuts, pecking at them. He made another one of those inquisitive crowing sounds and then hopped to the loveseat onto Stede’s knee. Stede let go of Ed’s hand, holding his palm out to the bird instead. Then, to Ed’s surprise, he dropped something into Stede’s hand. “Thank you darling,” Stede cooed at him and no Ed’s dick didn’t perk up, shut up. The bird preened in Stede’s lap a bit, Stede running his index finger’s knuckle under the bird’s…chin? Was it a chin? Whatever was under his beak. Then the bird flitted back to the plate.
“What the hell did he just do?” Stede offered it to Ed; it was a small metal charm that, when Ed looked closer, was a little lighthouse. “What is this?”
Stede simply smiled. “I started feeding the crows and befriended them. And they started to bring me gifts. Jeff is the one who likes people the most. Which…is ironic, I think.”
Ed ran a thumb over the little lighthouse. “So he’s the one who brought you my keys?”
Stede nodded. “They like shiny things. Paperclips, marbles, keyrings--usually empty ones--and,” he tapped the lighthouse in Ed’s hand, “charms.”
Ed looked over at the bird. His literal fucking wingman? Holy shit. “Why Jeff?” he couldn’t think of anything else to ask to extend the visit. He wanted to stay here for as long as Stede would let him. Forever, ideally.
“Ah, well. It seemed like a good idea at the time,” he mumbled. “I…well he’s named after Jeffery Dahmer.” Stede’s cute little flush was so fucking adorable goddamn it, Ed was trying not to lose his shit but this was going too far.
“Why Dahmer?”
Stede squirmed. “Well. A group of crows is a murder. So…that’s Jeffery Dahmer. This one, with the bent feathers? That’s Ted Bundy. And the very small female over there is Elizabeth Bathroy. Needed a bit more historical for her. There’s also Dennis Rayder somewhere.”
Ed’s mouth opened without his fucking permission.
“You named your murder of crows after serial killers? Oh my fucking god that’s too much just fucking marry me already.”
Stede grinned at him. “Perhaps a date first?”
“Yes! Oh my god yes!” Ed grabbed Stede’s hand again, and the tapered fingers curled around Ed’s. “I just…it’s fucking unfair, ok, you can’t be that fucking adorable and not make me want to kiss your fucking face off.”
Stede’s flush was adorable and his little move--tucked chin and batting his eyes--was gonna make Ed crazy. “Well. If you’re sure, I’d be happy to give it a go.”
That was enough for Ed. He grabbed Stede by the collar and pulled him into a kiss.
He should’ve expected it; the man had been fucking perfect in every way so far. His lips were soft and pillowy. His kiss wasn’t hesitant. No, it was sweet, bold, fucking delicious. A hand slid into Ed’s hair and gave it the lightest, sexiest tug and Ed melted. Stede’s tongue teased at Ed’s lip and he parted. No, he melted, lost any fucking rigidity. Well, except in one place.
He wasn’t sure how long the kiss went on, but eventually Stede pulled back just a bit. “Oh. Well.”
“You can’t take back that date,” Ed teased, pulling Stede close to nip and kiss at him again.
“How soon are you willing to do that date?” Stede mumbled against Ed’s lips.
Ed laughed. “Immediately. And what bribe do I leave for my wingman?”
Stede kissed him again. “I’m happy to help with that. Later.”