#what were YOU doing at the devils sacrament huh?! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

zacharybosch · 2 years

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Tasseomancy - chapter 8

🍽dinner is served, eat up 🍽

chapter 1: tumblr / ao3

chapter 2: tumblr / ao3

chapter 3: tumblr / ao3

chapter 4: tumblr / ao3

chapter 5: tumblr / ao3

chapter 6: tumblr / ao3

chapter 7: tumblr / ao3

read chapter 8 below or on ao3!

Kind stranger. New friend. Close confidant. Lover. Edward.

Late on Saturday night, long after Ed had touched him and kissed him and then left with a beatific smile lighting up his lovely face, Stede lay in bed, staring wide-eyed at the dark ceiling and feeling like a perfect fool. It was all so obvious now that he allowed himself to think about it, now that it felt safe to think about it. How could he have been so completely blind?

Ed had— god, he’d held onto Stede’s wrist, in the department store changing room. He’d kept Stede’s hand there, cupping his cheek. Said he was happy. Weeks ago! Weeks and weeks! Ed must have the patience of a goddamn saint. Why hadn’t Stede apologised more earlier, when Ed was still here, for being so clueless? So much potential kissing they’d missed out on because of Stede’s inability to see what was right in front of his face.

Stede pulled his phone off the bedside table and curled onto his side, facing towards the windows. The curtains were parted a little, and a shaft of yellow light from the streetlamps outside cut across his face and chest, and painted golden rims over the dark pools of his cashmere blanket. It was the middle of the night, and the world was utterly silent, save for the soft whisper of the ocean in the distance and the gentle tap of Stede’s fingers against the glowing screen of his phone.

He pulled up his and Ed’s message thread and carefully typed out I’m sorry for being so silly. Their last texts had been goodnight messages from the night before, littered with moon and star and heart emojis. Staggeringly obvious in hindsight.

Ed’s reply came back very quickly.

don’t be, i like your silliness

I wish I hadn’t wasted so much of our time together :(

it wasn’t wasted it’s been the most fun i’ve had in ages years i’d do it all again

I still feel like an idiot though…

ok but at least you’re my idiot now

:) I didn’t think you’d text back this quickly, why are you up so late?

why are YOU up late clearly i’m not the only one at the devil’s sacrament

The familiar urge to deflect reared its ugly head, but Stede pushed it aside. He was allowed to be open with Ed. He wanted to be open.

I was thinking about you, couldn’t sleep.

same tbh you’re a really good kisser

Stede had never been complimented on his kissing skills before. He didn’t even know he had any, not until Ed’s lips had slotted against his and some new part of his brain had suddenly lit up like a christmas tree and his body just moved on instinct. Turned out that kissing was the easiest thing in the world when it was with someone you wanted to kiss, someone who wanted to kiss you.

The three little typing dots on Ed’s side of the screen had been appearing and disappearing and reappearing again for the past minute or so. Eventually, he added:

nice and soft and eager

Stede squirmed beneath his blankets, pressing his legs together and biting his lip. His body did that shivery, clenching thing again, just like it had when Ed had offered a helping hand over the phone.

Is this part of the seduction?

this is the preamble so you were thinking about me huh what were you thinking exactly

The changing room in the department store, when I held your face and you stopped me from pulling away.

you wanted to kiss me then didn’t you

I think so. Yes. I did. I don’t think I quite realised it, but I wanted to very much.

what do you think would’ve happened if you had kissed me

I think Lucius would’ve still come and interrupted us.

OK PRETEND LUCIUS WAS NOT THERE

Right. Of course. This was flirty texting. They better start making a habit of doing this, because Stede really needed to get some practice in.

Sorry :’) I think if I had kissed you, you would’ve kissed me back. I think you would’ve held my face like I held yours. I think it would’ve been a soft kiss, a slow one.

that sounds nice

Stede could see it in his mind’s eye, like he was looking through a peep-hole; a little blurry and distorted round the edges but clear and sharp in the centre where they were exchanging gentle, easy kisses, murmuring against each other’s lips, smiling at the sensation of wandering hands.

My hands would wander, I think. I was so curious about your tattoos that day. I’d want to see more of them. Maybe things wouldn’t remain so soft or slow.

gonna get me naked?

His tender, sensual mental image warped and shifted and then suddenly there was nothing gentle about it: he was pressing Ed up against the wall, dragging his overalls and his underwear off, grinding up against him, threading one hand tight into Ed’s hair as the other fumbled inelegantly with the button and zip fly of his own trousers. Legs squeezing around his waist, worn leather of Ed’s boots sticking to the bare skin of Stede’s backside, silky t-shirt slipping down over a shoulder. Sucking a bruising kiss against the revealed skin.

Not completely naked. Boots stay on. Crop top stays on.

oh it’s like THAT is it i know what you wanna do, you wanna take me up against the wall or smth manhandle me, kiss me hard, make a mess

Exactly. Clinging to me, your legs wrapped round my waist.

do you wanna know what i’m doing right now

Yes please yes

i’m saying goodnight ;) big kissies xxxxxxxxxxx

Stede stared blankly at his phone for several minutes, heart racing and head spinning and body distractingly, achingly roused. If this was only the preamble to being seduced, he wasn’t entirely sure that he’d survive the main event.

***

The seduction began, formally, on Monday morning.

Ed surprised Stede at the Cleanery with a large cup of tea and a fruity danish pastry from Jackie’s. He had the purple tote bag slung over one shoulder, and Stede’s silk scarf dangling out of the back pocket of his trousers.

“Edward, how lovely to see you,” Stede said, getting up from his sewing machine and trying very hard not to give away that his brain was stuck on an endless replay of Ed pulling that scarf from around Stede’s neck when they’d been desperately making out two days prior. “Dropping off some more stuff to be cleaned? I hope you’ve not had any more mishaps with your moisturiser!”

“Nah, nothing that needs cleaning today. I have got this extra tea and pastry though, and I was looking for someone to give ‘em too, maybe like a sexy blonde seamstress or someone… Know anyone like that around here?”

“Oh, I might.” Stede batted his eyelashes, which was something he had never done before in his life and wasn’t entirely sure he’d managed to do completely successfully now; but it seemed to have the desired effect, and Ed leaned in to kiss him on the cheek.

“For you,” he said, putting the tea and pastry down onto Stede’s work table with a little flourish. “What are you doing Friday night?”

“Well, I’ve not got anything planned…”

“You have now. You’re coming over to my place. I’m gonna cook for you.”

Stede’s eyes lit up in delight. “Really? Oh, how exciting. Should I bring anything, a dessert maybe?”

“Just bring yourself, I’ve got dessert all figured out already,” Ed said, snaking his hands over Stede’s hips and giving him a very firm squeeze on the rear. He nuzzled into Stede’s neck, and gave a gentle little tug on the silk scarf he had tied there. “Been wearing these a lot, haven’t you? I’m glad I bought you so many. Looks good.”

Stede flushed. He wore one of the silk scarves practically every day, always wanting to have some little token of Ed with him. “I like having a piece of you wrapped around me.”

“I can think of some other pieces of me that you can have wrapped around you if you want—”

“Get a room you two, Jesus,” John piped up from behind the counter. He had been sitting there the entire time.

“I’m planning on it mate, trust me,” Ed replied off-handedly, before grabbing at Stede’s hand and pulling him behind the counter and into the back of the shop. “Is there a private spot or something back here? Just wanna have a little chat real quick.”

The back room was just one big open space with no privacy to be had in any corner of it, but it did contain several supply cupboards of varying sizes and clutter levels. “Oh, um, well the broom cupboard on the left there is fairly empty, that door with the— oof!” Stede yelped as Ed pulled the door open and shoved him inside the cramped little space, then squeezed in after him. They were pressed close, chest to thigh, and Ed’s hands were already roaming. “I thought, wow, thought you were holding off? Oh, god. Doing things, um, slowly?”

“I am. But don’t forget that this is a seduction, Stede, and if I’m going to seduce you successfully,” Ed murmured, ghosting his lips at the corner of Stede’s jaw, “then I’m going to need to touch you a little bit as well.”

Stede already felt more seduced than he ever had in his entire fucking life. Ed was so warm and he smelled so good, and his voice was a deep rumbling purr that vibrated right through Stede’s skin.

“So,” Ed said, rubbing his hands slowly over the front of Stede’s shirt and innocently slipping a few buttons out of their holes, “do you have any allergies?”

“Wh— what…?”

“Allergies. Intolerances. Dietary requirements. For dinner on Friday.”

“Oh, I… I uh, I…” Ed was stroking feather-light circles over Stede’s nipples and looking very intently into his eyes. And that was okay, Stede could handle that. He could absolutely handle the fact that Ed was stroking his nipples and staring at him like he wanted to eat him and Stede was going to expire right there in the broom cupboard.

“Focus babe, this is an important discussion.”

“Um. Sensitive… sensitive to dairy, sometimes, I… Fuck, Ed—”

“Dairy, right, noted. And is there anything that you just don’t like? That goes for food and,” Ed rolled his hips just the barest amount, and brought his face a scant inch away from Stede’s, “anything else you might want me to know about.”

Stede had to very forcefully remind himself that he’d asked for this. He could’ve let Ed stay on his knees and give him what would’ve no doubt been an absolutely mind-melting blowjob, and then spent the rest of the weekend together kissing and rubbing and sucking and fucking, but no, he’d asked for this instead and now Ed was thoroughly and relentlessly giving it to him.

“I hate mushrooms. But I think… I think I’m open to trying anything else that you wanted to offer me.” The urge to close that final space between them and just sink into Ed, into his arms and the heat of his mouth, was overwhelming. “Food or otherwise.”

“That is,” Ed withdrew his hands from inside Stede’s shirt as he spoke, “very good,” carefully re-fastened the buttons that he’d opened, “to know,” he finished, straightening Stede’s collar and letting his hands linger for a moment at his neck. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Ed breezed out of the broom cupboard and out of the shop, light and carefree as anything. Stede remained in the cupboard, thrilled and embarrassed and desperately horny, urgently willing his erection to go the fuck away.

On Tuesday, they took an evening stroll along the beachfront after Stede got off work. There was a beautiful peach and purple sunset, and the sea was restless, golden and choppy. Seagulls called wildly as they were buffeted about by the brisk and chilly wind, and Stede and Ed walked arm-in-arm along the promenade, pressed together tightly against the cold. There was an old bandstand halfway along the promenade, worked in wrought iron filigree and painted cheerfully in chipping whites and greens, and it loomed ahead of them, silhouetted against the sun.

“You know, I wanted to kiss you that evening on the beach,” Ed said, as they came up to the bandstand and stopped to admire the view. “When we had the muffins, and you said you’d burn down the department store for me.”

The second time they met, Stede’s cautiously-proposed date-that-he-only-realised-now-was-a-date. It had been a perfect evening: the smell of the rain, and Ed’s leather jacket; eating soggy pastries in a shop doorway; the straggly, wet ends of Ed’s hair; the feeling of being at home. If Ed had kissed him then, Stede would’ve surrendered like a wave to the shore. “Why didn’t you?” Stede asked, and then, with a breath and a bite of his lip, “You could kiss me now.”

“You’re right, I could,” Ed replied, pulling Stede into the relative shelter of the bandstand and pressing him against one of the pillars. “Are you seduced already, then?” He hovered his mouth over Stede’s, hot breath mingling in the cold air, a smile playing about his lips. “Time to seal the deal with a kiss?”

“I…” Stede hesitated. A moment ago he had been so desperate for Ed to kiss him, but now that he was faced with the prospect of it actually happening, it felt wrong. Too soon. As maddening as it was to have Ed so closely within reach and not take that final step, he wasn’t ready for this part to be over yet. “I kind of like not kissing you. Am I mad for saying that? The anticipation—”

“Drives you fucking crazy, doesn’t it? But it feels good, too. Wanting, and not getting.”

“It makes it so potent, every time you touch me. You look at me and I can almost taste you.”

Ed was painted gold in the sunset light, warm and soft and so achingly beautiful as he cupped Stede’s face in his hands and smiled. “You can taste me on Friday,” he whispered, full of promise.

On Wednesday, Ed made another morning tea delivery to the Cleanery. This time it was a sencha green tea that had been blended with little fruit pieces and flower petals, which proved to be a light and refreshing antidote to the dreary morning’s work. He didn’t linger, just dropped the drink off with a smile and kiss on the cheek and a promise of more later, but as Stede sewed and ironed and folded he sipped the tea and felt as though Ed was there with him.

At lunchtime, Ed returned with two carefully-packed sandwich bags and a thermos, which contained an usual concoction of red tea and cocoa and peppermint and tasted like a warm and creamy hug. He’d brewed the tea and made the sandwiches himself at home, and laid them out proudly on the battered little coffee table in the backroom of the Cleanery. They ate cuddled together on the ancient, creaking sofa, heads together, knees pressed close, talking softly about small things.

Ed was back again with another cup of tea at the end of the day, waiting patiently at the door as the Cleanery was closed up for the evening. It was a classic Earl Grey that had been blended with lavender for a soothing, relaxing aroma, and Stede sipped it gratefully, feeling all the little stresses of the day melt away in the steam.

Ed walked Stede home, his warm hand in Stede’s cold one, and on the doorstep to Stede’s building Ed stopped and pulled him into a close embrace, and placed a soft, lingering kiss against his cheek. As he started to pull back, Stede clenched his fingers into the lapels of Ed’s jacket and held him close, nuzzling noses. He thought of what he’d said yesterday, in the bandstand, about anticipation and potency. Having steeped all day in the heady waters of Ed’s tender care and affection, his resolve was not as strong now as it had been the day before.

Stede licked his lips and opened his mouth and made a plaintive noise in the back of his throat. “I want…” he whispered, pulling tighter against Ed’s jacket.

“I know,” Ed whispered back, unfurling Stede’s fingers one by one, and placing a kiss against them when he was done. “Friday.”

On Thursday, a string of messages popped up on Stede’s phone throughout his work day. They were mostly selfies from Ed while he was running errands and doing chores at home, interspersed with some random nonsense thoughts and wildly chaotic strings of emojis. It was all very sweet and innocent at first, but as the day wore on and the chores got boring, the selfies and the thoughts and the emojis all started turning towards one very specific direction.

At the third photo of Ed looking up into the camera with his big doe eyes and a finger in his mouth, Stede had to remove himself to the staff toilet in order to try and calm down.

If he really wanted to calm down though, he wouldn’t have brought his phone with him. He was already nursing a semi, and as he sat down on the lowered toilet seat, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and began to scroll back and forth through some of the more tantalising photos.

A few shots of Ed in the mirror, posing in various outfits, hip cocked and arm stretched up above his head; some close-ups, hair tucked behind his ear, showing off a little dangly earring and also coincidentally the long line of his neck; and then some lying on a sofa, hair splayed in waves, Stede’s pink bird shirt unbuttoned and open around his shoulders, hand slung tantalisingly low in the waistband of some cashmere joggers.

Stede started to wonder what it might be like, if he was there in the photos as well. Standing behind Ed while he posed in front of the mirror, hands snaking around his waist, nuzzling into his hair. Running his fingers along the line of Ed’s neck as he showed off his earring, placing teasing little kisses in that soft space under the earlobe. Climbing onto the sofa and straddling Ed’s thighs, pulling his waistband down all the way, exposing him to Stede’s hungry touch.

It was enough to take Stede from semi-hard to completely, achingly hard. He absolutely could not jerk off at work, no way, but maybe he could just send Ed a little something back, something to show that his photos were very much appreciated?

Stede leaned back against the cistern, cupped his hand around the very obvious outline of his dick showing through his trousers, and snapped a photo. Was this good? Was this sexy? He was pretty sure that it was. Ed had seemed to be very taken with the outline of his dick last Saturday, after all.

He sent the picture off before he could second-guess himself, and although it was immediately marked as seen, it took a couple of minutes before Ed’s response came back.

Another photo. It was cropped close, just the top half of Ed’s torso and arms, the smooth column of his neck, the plush curve of his open mouth. One hand was draped over his chest, fingers resting in the slight dip of his sternum, and there was— he had—

Ed’s chest was wet. It wasn’t water. It was something thicker, stickier, white, and Stede was suddenly very light-headed. He sternly told himself again that jerking off at work was absolutely out of the question.

With sweaty, shaking fingers, he typed out, Thank you very much that’s very nice I am going to appreciate this properly later when I am not at work.

He slumped back and rubbed a hand over his face, as Ed sent a string of laughing emojis in reply. He’d never been so deliciously, painfully horny in his life. God, he wanted to fuck Ed so fucking bad.

Friday, Ed had said. Friday. One more day.

***

On Friday, nerves having bubbled up all day towards boiling point, Stede spent an inordinately long time picking his outfit. There was no question over whether he should wear a suit or not; a suit was his go-to and he was deathly allergic to wearing jeans, but should it be formal? Casual? Patterned? Plain? Classic cut, or something a little more jazzy? Deep down, he knew that Ed would like whatever he wore, but fussing over suit options gave Stede something to focus on that wasn’t his screaming nerves, and by the time he eventually arrived at a decision he was feeling considerably less frazzled.

He was going to wear his pistachio-coloured suit. It was a perfectly proportioned classic style, made up in a light and fluid wool fabric with an elegant shawl collar and a fun little triangular flap on the breast pocket for a little whimsy. The clean lines and exquisite fit made it timeless and refined, while the light, airy colour and tortoiseshell buttons kept it casual. He paired it with a pale lavender t-shirt in a fine linen jersey, and another of Ed’s silk scarves knotted loosely about his neck.

Yes, he was definitely onto a winner with this one. It wasn’t a suit that he got much wear out of in his old life, but on the few occasions he had taken it out for a spin he’d felt terribly chic — at least, until someone had given him an odd look and he’d started to doubt all his choices and put the suit at the back of his wardrobe until he worked up the courage to wear it again. Putting the suit on didn’t take any courage this time; it went on easy as anything, and Stede looked at himself in the mirror and felt good about what he saw. And to top it all off, it looked very striking against the bouquet of flowers he’d bought earlier, ready to present to Ed at his doorstep.

Ed lived in one of the early-to-mid-1800s terraces near the seafront, a very desirable location and one that Stede became increasingly more jealous of as he walked down the tree-lined street. The front of his house was elegantly curved, with tall sash windows and a little cast iron balcony on the first floor, and the door was painted a very fetching midnight blue.

Stede smoothed a calming hand over his hair and rolled his shoulders to dislodge any lingering tension, held the bouquet of flowers behind his back, and knocked.

Ed opened the door, and the greeting that Stede had been carefully practising in his head stuttered and died on the tip of his tongue. Ed was wearing black jeans, which was fine, and an apron, which was also fine; but he didn’t have a top on underneath the apron, and also his hair was all tied up in a high ponytail with Stede’s silk fucking scarf, which showed off the lovely shape of his neck and reminded Stede once again just why Ed had his scarf in the first place and oh dear, Stede really should stop gawking and get inside before he fainted.

“Welcome to Ed Teach’s Bar and Grill. There’s no bar, or grill, but you are allowed to grope the staff,” Ed said with a little giggle and a wink. “Come on in— oh, are those for me?”

Stede had regained enough of his senses to bring his hand out from behind his back and thrust the bunch of flowers at Ed. Yellow lilies, pink camellias, a few stems of blue salvia, and a little spray of edelweiss; it had wiped out most of the money in Stede’s bank account, but eating only tinned beans and old bread until payday was a small price to pay for the look on Ed’s face.

“No-one’s ever bought me flowers before,” he said, a little dumbfounded. “I— fuck, I don’t think I even own a vase.”

“I’m sure we can find something inside that’ll do just fine,” Stede said, still looking mostly at Ed’s chest where it disappeared beneath the apron. “Shall we?”

They headed inside, and Ed showed Stede through to the living room. His house was very bare; it looked like he’d only just moved in that morning. But it did mean that Stede could take in all the gorgeous original period features, which were bountiful: carved plaster ceiling roses, stepped skirting boards, a cast-iron fireplace, and the most beautiful little acanthus leaf corbels in the hallway.

Ed stood awkwardly in the doorway, fiddling with the ties of his apron. “The last owner was into that minimalism shit. Left all those nice details that you’re cooing over, but stripped everything else back to its bones and just chucked a bucket of white paint over everything.”

“It’s… very striking,” Stede said cautiously, as he removed his coat and laid it over the arm of the sofa. “Very bright.”

“Feels like a waiting room at the doctor's office. I want to decorate, y’know, make it nice and homey and stuff, but I’ve just got no idea how.”

“Well let’s find a cup or something to put these flowers in, flowers will make any home look inviting.”

They went into the kitchen, which was just as big and bare and clinical as the living room. The one spot of colour was a little tin, sitting on the counter next to a kettle: it was a lovely rich blue, and painted with tiny yellow flowers. Stede recognised it immediately as a tea caddy, same as the one Ed had bought for him.

After a bit of rummaging, Ed produced a tall tupperware tub, the kind normally used for storing pasta. He filled it with water, placed it on the white marble breakfast bar that dominated the room, and then plopped the flowers inside. He took a step back to appraise his handiwork, seemed to find it acceptable, and then turned to the stove to check on whatever it was that was simmering away in a large pot.

“That smells delicious,” Stede said, inhaling deeply. “What are we having?”

“Boil up, figured it’d be nice on a chilly night like tonight. My mum used to make it for me, sometimes. Can’t remember the last time I had it, to be honest. Never tried making it for myself, even though I love it.”

Stede looked at him, softly. “Treating yourself doesn’t always have to involve luxurious extravagances and heaps of money, does it? Sometimes it’s just rediscovering something that fell by the wayside.”

Ed sniffed and danced his eyes away, then began to dump out some flour into a mixing bowl. “Mum always did the rēwena bread too, but I’m not that handy. Doughboys are easy though, just flour and salt and water.”

“You know, it’s also what you do in a place that makes it feel homey, not just how you decorate it.” Stede glanced around at the cavernous kitchen with its cold tile and bare walls, and then at the sticky dough covering Ed’s hands, and the bright spray of flowers in the tupperware tub. “Feels better in here already,” he said with a smile.

Ed smiled back, as he shaped the dough into little dumplings and stray clouds of flour drifted to land on his arms. “It’s because you’re in here, wearing that sexy fuckin’ suit. I’ll just put these in the pot and then food’ll be ready in about ten, fifteen minutes. Do you wanna drink?”

“Oh, fab, yes please. What’s on offer?”

“I’ve got the usual suspects, tea, coffee, milk, water, some really old orange juice that will probably kill you. But there’s also a fancy little mocktail I can make, if you want to try?”

That caught Stede a little off guard. For some reason, he had assumed that Ed was the type of guy to have an expensive, extensively-stocked drinks cabinet full of all kinds of aged whiskeys and triple-distilled spirits. “...You don’t drink?”

“Yeah, I… sorry, I should’ve told you. Some people get weird about it,” Ed said, hesitantly. “You can drink if you want though, I don’t mind, I can run to the shop right now and get you whatever you want,” he added hastily, and then paused. The look on his face was familiar; Stede had seen a more wounded, raw version of it before on their trip to the department store, standing in the changing room in that silky t-shirt. “I used to drink, used to do a lot of stuff, but nothing good ever came of it. My, um, my dad was a drinker.”

And in that moment Stede knew, with unwavering certainty, that he would never touch alcohol around Ed. Not for all the money in the world. “I’d love to try the mocktail,” he said.

Stede didn’t realise just how much tension Ed was holding in his body until it all suddenly evaporated in a little cloud of relief and excitement. “Fuckin’ great, it’s a classic sidecar recipe but you’re not gonna believe this man, it’s got tea in it. Tea and marmalade! And honey! Instead of the brandy! Mental.” Ed went to the fridge and pulled out a chilled jug of tea, chattering away while he assembled the rest of his ingredients and began pouring measures into a dented old cocktail shaker. “It’s lapsang souchong tea, got it from Jackie’s. Gives it that smokiness, and then the honey sweetens it up. Marmalade instead of the triple sec, lemon juice and ice as normal, then just give it a good old shake around and voila! Fancy drink.”

He poured the golden liquid through a sieve and into two squat glass tumblers. They toasted to the wonders of tea and marmalade, and looked at each other over the rim of their glasses as they drank.

Unfortunately for Stede, when the drinks had been made and the dishes and cutlery set out in readiness on the breakfast bar, and all they had left to do was wait for dinner to finish cooking, Ed finally had space in his brain to realise that he was still topless, and went to make himself decent.

He put on a woollen sweater which was in a lovely shade of deep inky teal, and in a very happy turn of events it had been knitted in such a way as to have a fingertip-sized hole every inch or so, laid out in a neat grid over the entirety of the garment. It was almost more tantalising this way; while the full expanse of Ed’s tattooed chest and back being on display was very, very nice, having it revealed in flashing little glimpses was even nicer. Stede was suddenly very aware of the fact that they still hadn’t kissed, but he just sat with the feeling, letting it roll around inside his chest. He took another sip of his drink and admired the view, feeling warm and syrupy inside.

“Figured it was better that I take it off rather than get it covered in flour and bits of pig, since it was kind of expensive,” Ed said sheepishly. “No harm though, since you got a nice eyeful, didn’t you?”

“Oh, I did. But I’m enjoying all these little eyefuls too.”

Soon enough, dinner was ready, and Ed ladled the boil up into two large, shallow bowls. The aroma was divine, thick and comforting and deliciously savoury, and Stede breathed in deeply as Ed placed the bowl before him on the breakfast bar.

“There we are. Made with love,” Ed said, and then realised what he’d just said. “Not like… I don’t mean that I— not that I don’t, you know, but— you know what I mean, right?”

“I know,” Stede said kindly, and he did know what Ed meant. Maybe they hadn’t quite blossomed into love yet, but they were planting their garden and sending down roots and watering the tender young shoots; they were cultivating love, tending to the tight bud of it that was aching to unfurl. They were taking their pleasure in the happy anticipation of seeing it grow, the warm excitement of the bountiful harvest. It was a wonderful feeling. “Let’s eat.”

There was nothing like hot broth on a cold day, and Stede could feel it seeping into his bones. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a meal this nice, a meal made with love. In his old life, food was invariably ordered in, or impersonally prepared by chefs. It wasn’t a vehicle for giving love, and there had never been any love to give anyway.

They sat on stools at the corner of the breakfast bar, and were both quiet as they ate, enjoying good food and good drink and most importantly, enjoying making eyes at each other. Stede let his mind drift over the strange turn his life had taken these past several weeks, ever since Ed had spoken to him in the café. Funny how so small and innocent a thing could snowball so quickly into… whatever this was that they were doing.

And what was it exactly? Were they officially boyfriends now? Were they dating casually? There was absolutely nothing about the situation that felt casual, especially not when Stede thought about the eye-wateringly expensive silk scarves sitting in his flat, and the fact that they were skirting carefully around the word ‘love’. Perhaps Ed could shed a little light on what he thought it was that they were doing.

“You know, Lucius said something funny the other week, when he stopped by the Cleanery. He said that you were my sugar daddy. Not sure what he meant by that, to be honest,” Stede said mildly, and Ed spluttered into his drink.

“Um. You know what a sugar daddy is, right?”

“Well, I… Lucius didn’t bother to explain it to me, and I can’t say that googling it has been top of my list of priorities lately. Is it bad?”

“Not really, no, but people can be quite judgemental about it. It’s… well…” Ed stopped to take a huge bite of potato, and chewed thoughtfully for a while. “A sugar daddy is someone you enter into a relationship with so that they’ll buy you stuff, or like give you an allowance, pay your rent, shit like that. In return you do sex stuff. Not always, some sugar relationships are completely sexless. But a lot of them are a kind of tit-for-tat money and sex thing. That’s… not what we’re doing. We’re not doing that.”

As if they weren’t doing that. It sounded like exactly what they’d been doing. “Aren’t we? You’ve bought me lots of things. Very expensive things.” Stede waited a few seconds for dramatic effect, and then: “And now I very much want to have sex with you.”

Ed spluttered for a second time. “Fucking hell, man. Yeah, I have bought you a lot of very expensive stuff. But that’s not why you want to have sex, is it?”

“No.”

“And I’m not buying it so that you’ll have sex with me. So I’m not your sugar daddy.”

“Okay, well, I suppose that makes sense.” Stede paused for a moment. “Unless…?”

Ed’s eyes suddenly got very sharp and intense. “Unless?”

“Unless you are though. I mean, what we’re doing is close enough, right? And I know how it looks to other people. We kind of fell into it by accident, but now that we’re here… might as well lean into it. I like it. And I think you like it too.”

“I like it very much.”

“So why not call it what it is? And you can carry on taking care of me, providing for me, indulging me,” Stede murmured, leaning in close, looking at Ed’s mouth, “and I can carry on doing this.” He caught Ed’s lips in a soft, teasing kiss, their first in a week. Ed’s fork clattered as it hit the counter, and when Stede pulled back Ed chased after his retreating mouth.

“You were always so skittish,” Ed murmured, cupping a hand around the curve of Stede’s neck and rubbing a thumb over his cheek. His fingers trailed down, stroking over the silk at Stede’s throat. “I’m meant to be seducing you, but now you’re talking like this, driving me fucking crazy… What changed?”

Stede looked down at his mostly-empty bowl of food, thoughtful. Something had certainly changed; or rather, it wasn’t something, but everything, and it had been changing imperceptibly by small degrees, ever since their first meeting, and only now looking back could he see how different he had become. Old Stede never would’ve found it so easy to just be with Ed in this new way, playful and carefree. “I don’t know,” he said, slowly. “I think, maybe on some level I still expected it to be awful, you know? That was the entirety of my experience, just awful, awkward situations where I wasn’t enjoying myself and neither was the other person, and I suppose I just assumed that it would always be like that, and I just had to find someone who was worth suffering for.”

“Stede—”

“You remember when I said— on the phone, when we, you know. I said I had no idea it could feel like that. That wasn’t an exaggeration. It was the first enjoyable sexual experience I ever had. And, well, now that I know how good it can all be, how good you make it for me, I feel… safe, and happy, and like I’m free to just… do what comes naturally. Like you said.”

“So you’re a natural fuckin’ flirt then, are you? Saucy Stede, ready to bat your eyelashes and sit in my lap?”

“Maybe not quite like that,” Stede said, smiling, “but yes. I have a lifetime of hideous self-esteem issues to unpack, and I know that some things will always be a struggle. But when I’m with you, it’s easier. You make it easy.”

“I’m so gone for you,” Es said simply, and in those words Stede heard all the curiosity and attention and affection and desire that had built up over the weeks, and the promise of so much more to come.

They fell into another comfortable silence, finishing off the small remainders of their food and swirling the final sips of their drinks around in their glasses.

“Sugar baby,” Edward said, after he tipped the last drop of his drink into his mouth. “That’s what you’d be. My sugar baby. Kept and doted on, wanting for nothing.” He turned on his stool to face Stede more fully, and ran his fingertips over the back of Stede’s hand where he’d rested it on the marble countertop. “Maybe I should move you into my house, keep you like a little pet. Would you like that?” His voice was very low, and Stede shivered.

“Yes,” he said, a little breathless.

“My pretty little thing, all dressed up in finery, bought and paid for. Sweet and greedy and demanding.”

Their faces were very close, and their breath hot. Stede leaned in a fraction, just enough for the barest brush of lips. “Take me upstairs,” he whispered.

Ed stood up from his stool, and immediately fell to the floor with a loud, “FUCK!”

The atmosphere, so thick and heavy with desire a moment ago, was cut in two with all the shock of a bucket of cold water to the face.

“Oh god, Ed, are you okay? Are you hurt? Let me help you up…” Stede bent down and took Ed’s arms in his, holding him while he got his legs under himself again. Slowly they stood together, Ed leaning unsteadily against Stede’s body. “What happened?” Stede asked, voice shrill with worry.

“Stupid fucking piece of shit knee. Fuck! It just gives out sometimes, no warning. Fuckin’. Fuck.” He winced in pain, and leaned more heavily against Stede. “Hurts for ages afterwards. Can’t put any weight on it. Fucking hell.”

“Is there anything I can do to help? Do you need your brace? I’ll get it for you, where is it?” Stede lowered Ed gingerly back onto his stool, and started pacing the kitchen, opening cupboards and drawers and absurdly the fridge, even though it made absolutely no sense for Ed to keep his brace there.

Ed sighed in frustrated resignation. “Brace won’t do much good now. This is basically a death sentence for the rest of our evening, just so you know. Can’t fuckin’ do anything when it’s like this. At least it gave out after dinner…”

Stede gave up his search for the brace and came back to Ed, running his hands fretfully over his leg. “Is there a salve, ice, a heat pad or something, anything I can put on it for you? Do you need a massage?” He had absolutely no idea how to massage a dodgy knee, but if it was Ed needed, he would give it his best shot.

“Stede, you gotta stop clucking over me like a mother hen. I’ll be okay. Just… help me up to the bathroom, will you? A boiling hot soak is usually the only thing that helps ease it a bit.”

“Absolutely, yes, I can do that. Get your arm around me. Where is it, up the stairs, yes? Right. You ready? Let’s go.”

Slowly, awkwardly, with many hisses from Ed and worried yelps from Stede, between them they managed to manoeuvre Ed up the staircase and into the bathroom. It was similarly bare like the rest of the house, save for a messy little pile of lavender shampoo bars and— wow—

“What an incredible bathtub! Gosh, it’s just beautiful. Is it original? Absolutely outstanding. The colour! So vibrant! What a luxury…”

Ed eased himself down onto a little wooden stool, quite forgotten as Stede continued to gush over the big copper bathtub.

“Stede.”

“Hm?” he said distractedly, still admiring the tub and running a hand over the curved edge.

“I’m still damaged here.”

“Oh right, of course, sorry Edward. Shall I run the bath? I’ll run the bath. Oh, I love these taps…”

Stede fussed around, repeatedly checking the temperature of the water, and adding in a generous dollop of muscle soak bubble bath that he found in a cupboard. While the bath slowly filled with steaming water and a frankly ridiculous amount of foamy bubbles, Ed removed his sweater, and Stede politely averted his gaze.

“You’re allowed to look,” Ed said with a little laugh. “It’s not like you’ve not already seen it. Might need a bit of help getting the trousers off, actually. Bending the knee isn’t really an option right now.”

Right. Of course he was allowed to look. Ed wanted him to look. That was all part of flirting, wasn’t it? Looking, being looked at. Playing around with it. Enjoying it.

Stede crouched down next to Ed’s outstretched leg, and carefully began to work his trousers down. “Not quite how I pictured this going,” Stede said, a little coy.

“Been picturing it, have you?”

“Oh, a little bit here and there, yes. It’s just a fantasy, though. I’ve been told the real thing is far better. Do you, um… want a towel? For your modesty.” Stede gestured at Ed’s crotch, covered now only by the thin fabric of his underwear. “I know you said I’m allowed to look, but I don’t want to presume about what exactly that includes.”

“Such a gentleman. Towels are in the airing cupboard,” Edward said with a small smile.

Once appropriately covered, Ed stood on one wobbly leg and shimmied his underwear down beneath the towel. With a steadying hand and many worried noises from Stede, he managed to get into the bathtub, removing the towel and chucking it with a wet slap onto the floor once he was covered by the mountains of bubbles. As he sank further into the soothing water, his eyes drifted closed and he let out the deepest, throatiest moan Stede had ever heard.

After a couple of minutes spent adjusting to the heat and enjoying the weightlessness in his leg, Ed opened his eyes and said, “You don’t have to stay, if you don’t want to. This is definitely not how I was planning for the evening to go. Can’t believe I got cockblocked by my own fucking knee.”

Stede pulled the little wooden stool around to the side of the bath, and sat himself down on it. He combed gentle fingers through the hair at Ed’s temple, and Ed leaned into the touch with a sigh. “I want to stay. The evening’s not wasted.”

“No?”

“No, because now I get to look at you in the bath. You’re very beautiful.”

“More beautiful than the tub itself?”

“Well I’m not sure abou— hey! I was joking!” Stede yelped, as Ed splashed him with water. “The tub might as well be a pig trough, compared to you.”

“Weird compliment, but okay. Keep ‘em coming.”

“In a room full of exquisite cashmere shawls, the only thing I would want wrapped around me is you.”

“That’s a bit more like it. Carry on.”

“You have eyes like a baby cow.”

“Um.”

“What I mean is— you have beautiful eyes, very big and dark with very long lashes, and I get a bit gooey if I look at them for too long.”

“Just think. If tonight had gone how I’d planned, you could’ve been whispering all these sweet nothings to me in bed,” Ed said with a wry smile. “I’d have been putty in your hands, doing anything you wanted.”

“Now you’re just taking the piss,” Stede said, and splashed water back at Ed. “But… say your knee hadn’t given out, and this had all gone how you wanted it to… what would be happening right now? What would we be doing?” he asked, quiet. He kept his hand in the water, swirling it around his fingers, close to Ed’s body.

Ed shifted about a little, and water sloshed up over his chest, leaving a shiny, wet trail of bubbles in its wake. The room was thick with steam, making everything soft and hazy, and Ed’s voice was low when he said, “We’d be in my bedroom. I’d get on my knees for you. Touch you. Get you hard. Finish the job I started at your place last week, let you use my mouth however you wanted. Then I’d crawl onto the bed and arch my back and ask you to fuck me.”

Ever so gently, Stede moved his hand and brushed his wet fingers over Ed’s nipple. He stayed there, toying with the piercing, while Ed looked at him, heavy-lidded, open-mouthed. “And then what?”

“Then… then you’d kiss me, deep and slow, and push my legs open. Kiss down my body, maybe… maybe suck my dick a little. Then you’d, ah, fuck—”

Stede had started to pinch Ed’s nipple, not ever so hard, but hard enough. “Too much? I know how sensitive you can be.” He moved to rub and squeeze the muscle instead, palm sliding over wet skin.

“You’re a fucking menace, Stede. Fuck.” Ed arched into the touch, and his breath quickened.

“Seems that way, doesn’t it?” Stede had never felt like this before in his life. Almost— powerful. It was heady, the way Ed reacted so strongly to just his touch and a few whispered words. “Anyway, you were in the middle of telling me what I was going to do to you. Please continue.”

“God, where was I? Um. You’d— lick me. You know. Fuckin’, eat me out. Get me nice and wet and ready for you.”

Stede began to slide his hand down Ed’s chest and stomach, beneath the water level. He felt the first tickling little brush of hair when Ed grabbed his wrist and held him still.

“If— if you touch me there, Stede, I’m not gonna be able to control myself and I will bend over for you right here. I want to, god I fucking want to so fucking much, but my knee just can’t take it right now.” He moved Stede’s hand back up to his chest, and slid his fingers against his nipple again. “Stay here. I’ll do the rest.”

“Whatever you want, darling,” Stede murmured, and then leaned in for a slow, luxurious kiss. Ed’s mouth felt so fucking good against his, the hot, velvet slide of his lips and tongue, and Stede had no idea how he’d managed to survive the past week without having this every day.

Ed sank his hand back beneath the water. The muscles in his arm flexed as he worked himself, and soon enough he was breaking the kiss and whimpering into Stede’s mouth.

“You feel so good, Edward,” Stede whispered, as he carried on squeezing and tugging at his nipples. He hadn’t planned to touch himself as well, in the moment wanting only to take care of Ed and distract him from his pain, but having Ed wet and whimpering beneath him like that was more than Stede could handle. He flicked open the button on his trousers, carefully drew down the zipper, and slipped his free hand inside.

“Fuck. When you fucking said that— on the phone— drove me fucking wild, I couldn’t believe it—”

“It just came out. I was thinking about you, couldn’t help it.”

Ed’s breath was very fast, chest heaving, hand jerking rapidly beneath the water. His other hand came to Stede’s neck, fingers hooking over the silk scarf, pulling him closer. “What were you thinking?”

“How… how good it felt to have you inside me, how much I loved it. I know it was just a toy, but in the moment it was you, Edward. Fuck. It felt like you.” Stede was in three places at once: in his bed, on the phone, listening to Ed tell him that he could take it; in his fantasy, where instead of a dildo it was Ed pushing his way inside, hot and relentless; and here, in the bathroom, watching Ed become a writhing mess in the water. “Hearing your voice, those words, telling me that you were— oh god, fuck, saying you were fucking me deep just like I deserved, that’s what made me come.”

Hidden by the side of the tub, Ed couldn’t see Stede’s lap, but he could see the tension in his arm, the tight frantic movement, and the deep flush in Stede’s cheeks. “Are you—?”

“Yes—”

“Oh fuck, fuck, Stede—”

Ed yanked Stede in for another kiss, but only managed a brief wet slide of lips before he was moaning against Stede’s mouth and coming hard in the water. His body shook in ripples and waves, and Stede kissed him through it as he followed Ed over the edge and came in a messy splatter into his palm.

They took a moment, just to breathe and exist with each other, an echo of the last time they did this. But this time, instead of deflecting and minimising and talking of other things, Stede said, “I hope you’ll agree that your seduction has proved… quite successful.”

“Yeah? Does that mean I get to keep you?”

Stede smiled warmly, heart thudding in his chest, as he said, “I’m yours.”

Afterwards, Stede helped Edward to his bedroom and got him settled on the bed, leg propped up on some cushions and phone, laptop, emergency walking stick, and a big glass of water all within easy reach. It was a little early still to be ending a date, but it had already been a perfect evening and Stede felt there was nothing he’d missed out on. Besides, he knew that if he stayed and watched TV shows in bed with Edward, soon they would stop watching and start doing other things and that would not end well at all for Ed’s knee.

They kissed goodbye once, twice, seven times. When Stede left the house, he stood on the street and gazed up at Ed’s bedroom window, the warm light spilling out into the dark like a beacon.

#our flag means death #ofmd #ofmd fic #gentlebeard #blackbonnet #edward teach #stede bonnet #my fic

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