expiationnet

[ Sometimes Ed wonders if Stede actually listens to the words he says, or if he has some kind of immunity to the sound of his own voice. It takes Ed a whole three seconds to shake that visceral image out of his head and actually hear what Stede is saying.

Ed huffs at the insane optimism, that coming from anyone else would be absolute idiocy. But if anybody could pull one over on death and dreams themselves, it'd be Stede Bonnet. He's the only magic Ed's ever seen. Shoulder rolling in a half shrug, he concedes. ]

Well... reckon if anyone were to turn this place on its head, it'd be us.

Exactly. [he bumps his knee lightly against Ed's]

And... [well returning back to his earlier statement] I mean...all of this...the crimes and everything else, I don't think we're dead. It feels more like a fuckery.

[ The knee-bump earns Stede a small smile from Ed and a bump of the ankle back, but the reassurance is less than convincing. Ed's a mastery of fuckery, after all, whatever the fuck is going on in this place feels way over his head. But also: #doubt ]

'Cause you know what feeling dead is like? This could be it, mate. Accused of a crime and waiting to be sentenced for all eternity. Sounds like a kind of hellish afterlife to me.

Oh I ...guess I never thought of it that way.

[he doesn't want to say he doesn't find it hellish or- well definitely doesn't now with him here as well, but he also doesn't want to contradict him just in case they're not on the same page]

Let's hope not. I wasn't done back ...alive.

[he clears his throat]

So that's a sandwich is it? Wow!

[ Ed's thoughts are round about the same. Feels more like dreaming than dying, but he's not about the say that and make things weird. Weirder than he already has.

Also, he'd completely forgotten about the sandwich he'd assembled and was still holding, until Stede's reminder. ]

Mm-hm. Handy, yeah? And no flames required. Never knew being a cook could be this easy. Kind of takes the art out of it, but it tastes nice.

[ He takes a bite of the sandwich he's made, assuming Stede would rather pick his own fillings, and then, still with a mouthful, nods in the direction of the lone pastry. ]

Where'd you get that little delight of yours, anyway?

Well we already know you'd be a great cook.

[oh he is just going to help himself to liberal doses of bread and peanut butter and jam so that it's fairly leaking off the bread]

Oh that? I swiped it. [he grins, hoping Ed doesn't ask any follow up questions]

Was in disguise and all, even cooked up a fainting spell. Oh! Would you like to see my mustache?

[ Shouldn't really mean anything; compliments never do anymore. For some reason, coming from Stede, compliments feel like a gift. Ed huffs, letting himself be occupied with his sandwich until Stede's explaining the origin of that pastry, and Ed's eyebrows jump. ]

Fuck off, no you didn't.

[ Said with awe and a creeping grin that turns into a throaty giggle. ]

Let's see it, then.

Oh yes I did! [and then he'd gone back and paid because he'd felt bad but only for half because he was also broke, hence the fainting spell, but never mind]

Right away. Here hold this. [have a sandwich, Ed] And I'll just go to the boudoir and pop into something a little more comfortable. [he wiggles his eyebrows]

And by that I mean I keep it in my nightstand for emergencies. Won't be a moment!

[ Ed takes the pb&j as he's told, and it's not until after Stede's sauntered off that the wheel in his head starts turning enough to wonder why he's holding two sandwiches? Couldn't've just put it down on some of the waxed paper? More troubling though is how he's picturing Stede in a moustache and robe and nothing else. Seriously, two sandwiches is the least of his concerns.

He finishes his own off in the interim while he's waiting so, you know. There's one problem solved, anyway. ]

[after a few moments he comes back out, dressed all in black, looking completely unrecognizable.

When glances at Ed and pitches his voice low]

Why, hello, young man. Have you seen a fantastically cool pirate around?

[ Okay, well that's just about the opposite of what Ed was picturing, and thank fuck for that. He smiles wide, eyes glittering for a fraction of a moment before his expression falls to one of shock, and he sits up straighter as if startled. ]

Pft, don't know where this "young man" you're talking about is, but there happens to be a fantastically cool pirate right here.

[ He makes a sweeping gesture towards himself with the hand that's not still holding the pb&j. ]

Bad luck though, you just missed another fantastical cool pirate who was sharing lunch with me just a minute ago. Went the way you're coming from, maybe you've seen him? Gold curls and honey-brown eyes. Best-dressed guy you've ever seen, and makes it look effortless. Dashing as fuck.

[you're lucky he's doing a bit or that might have pulled him up short! Gold hair and honey brown eyes? Honey brown? Really? Also best dressed, well not these days though ordinarily he probably put too much effort in being flawlessly put together. And dashing?

He tries to gather himself even though he's flushed pink at the compliments]

O-oh well, I'm sorry I missed him. But...well, you're here so... [he pulls another mustache from his pocket and holds it out] Why not...try it out. [and then he realizes the problem. A mustache over a mustache isn't much of a disguise.]

[ Yeah, totally just done for the bit. Though, Ed's part in the bit, playing himself, involves a smug smile that only turns warm and fond at Stede's blushing and stuttering.

Ed's eyes light up at the sight of a spare moustache-glasses combo. ]

Here, hold this a second.

[ He trades Stede his sandwich back as he takes the proffered disguise for himself, and with obvious enthusiasm, shoves them right on his face. He squares his shoulders while feigning a softer voice. ]

My my my! Well, look who's here! My good friend— Fuck, did you give me a name for this disguise?

[he can't help but grin as Ed plays along. He's always a great sport about this sort of thing, probably the only one Stede has ever really met besides his children.

As for a name...]

Ah... what about... Horatio!

[ The feeling's mutual. Everyone's always been so gloomy around him, Stede's playfulness is a breath of much-needed fresh air. Though, that name... Well, whatever Stede's into. ]

Ah yes, my good friend Whoreatio!

[ He elbows Stede in the ribs and leans in to whisper conspiratorially at his shoulder. ]

How's business been, eh? Putting that moustache to good work?

Edited (gdit html) 2023-06-14 16:20 (UTC)

Ah... [there seems to be some miscommunication, but never mind]

You know it...er... [alright calling him Hamlet would be... somewhat problematic] Romeo.

[does that work? is it cool?]

I've beguiled, and wiled and light fingered a few things too. Can't keep anyone off me. [he chuckles and tweaks the end of the mustache] Yourself?

[ For a moment, Ed looks just as confused by this new choice of name. He's never even been to Rome. Where's Stede coming up with these weird names? Well, whatever. He's still happy to play along, grinning like he's heard a secret at Stede's description of himself. He's not cool at all. He's better than cool. He's perfect. ]

Ah, you know me, mate. Just a humble mustachioed gent from across the sea.

[ He bows deeply in reference to himself while trying to remember: what do the Italians do? ]

Eating olives and writing poetry and shit.

[ Nailed it. ]

Hey, maybe you could teach me some tricks of your trade. A light fingering and all that, hm?

Edited (someday i will write a tag that doesn't need editing) 2023-06-15 15:39 (UTC)

Oh, poetry, Ed, can you really? [he wouldn't be surprised. Ed can do anything. But! Breaking character]

Er, I mean, I can certainly show you some fingering, my dear Romeo. [wherefore art thou Romeo when Ed is so much better?] Do you happen to have anything on you that can be fingered?

[ Ed huffs a laugh. Of course Stede's impressed by poems. Probably would be less impressed by some of the limericks he's composed, but there's a joke for another time.

The joke right now is shameless flirting about fingering, which... Stede has to know, right? And Ed knows he shouldn't be encouraging it, should laugh it off and break character himself, but Stede's playful charm is just so damn magnetic that, like a compass constantly swinging towards North, Ed can't keep himself away. His voice drifts low and soft, way more Ed than Romeo, now. ]

Reckon I do.

[ He rests a hand on Stede's bicep as he steps in close, dangerously close you could say, his mouth next to Stede's jaw as he whispers like secret through the plastic moustache and the real thicker one beneath. ]

Though, you'll have to dig deep in my pocket to grab hold of it.

[he lets out a little breath at the closeness, the warm touch of Ed's hand, only the mustache puts him off of doing something stupid, careless.]

Right... [he clears his throat and slips his hand into Ed's pocket, feeling a faint shock at the warmth of it and the sudden heat of his thigh. Dear god he hopes he's not flushing.

In sheer desperation he clutches at the first thing he can find, a spool of red thread] I er...assume this is yours? [though he doesn't look at Ed as he says this because it's just not a good idea]

[ Yeah okay, but the moustache didn't stop Stede from doing the stupid and careless thing of sliding his hand into the pants pocket of a man who's been flirting ruthlessly with him for the last twenty-odd minutes, and Stede has to know that's as good as raising anchor (raising other things) and casting off, right? He has to, because he may be sheltered and shy 'round many things, but he's also the smartest fucking person Ed's ever had to pleasure to know. And being closer, physically, to Stede than Ed's ever allowed himself to be before— close enough, in fact, to feeling the jittery warmth of Stede's fingers against his thigh with only a scrap of pocket linen and a few odd trinkets between— has whatever cobweb of good sense left in Ed's mind swept entirely away in a salty breeze.

Stede is blushing actually, and Ed finds it out for himself by the warmth under his fingers as he cups Stede's cheek in his palm and turns his face the centimeters it takes to fully kiss his mouth, carelessly interrupted whatever Stede was just trying to say about whatever he's found. And kissing Stede is so fucking warming and satisfying and necessary that Ed doesn't even laugh at the absurd clack of the hard plastic moustache-glasses on their faces. It's maybe a little part of why there's a huff of humor in Ed's breath when he finally pulls away just far enough to see if he can meet Stede's eyes again, while still holding him possessively like his hands belong there, pulling Stede in— but the smile in Ed's eyes isn't joking; it's warm, like a cat's as it stretches contentedly beneath the gold light of a late-afternoon sunbeam. ]

Hm?! [the kiss is unexpected and not. As soon as Ed's rough fingers touch his cheek he knows, but hardly dares to believe it- and then it's happening- it's really happening, Ed's lips on his, the strange click of the mustaches, the faint tickle of his soft beard.

Then before Stede can even think of kissing him back, Ed has pulled away again and Stede after a moment remembers to open his eyes and look at him. The ridiculous glasses fuzz into his periphery and all he can see is Ed's smile and Ed's warm, kind eyes that remind him of sunlight on the water]

Ed, I'm married. [is what he should say, but in lieu of saying anything he leans forward to press in a kiss of his own, hard and hungry, suddenly starving, fingers hooking the edge Ed's pocket to pull him closer. He wants him closer. Can't get him close enough.]

[ There's a moment between fear and relief, like when you've dived off a cliff, where your body feels weightless and nothing exists in the world but how you feel in that moment, until reality like a solid wooden plank crashes back in. That's how Ed feels as Stede opens his eyes to look at him like a startled fawn with an adorably out of place fake moustache, and then he's gone doe-eyed as he's kissed back and hauled in, at fucking last being subjected to the kind of ravenous from Stede he's only let himself imagine in private spaces, and it's like being plunged back into weightlessness all over again. ]

Fuck— [ Ed exhales in a curse, or maybe it's just a throaty wordless sound. His heart is pounding so loud in his ears that he can't hear it to know. Amazing there's enough blood to cloud his head and that it hasn't all already migrated south, because there's a lot that's found its way down there, which if Stede didn't already know from all that pocket-grabbing going on, he might realize it now as Ed's hand on Stede's arm slides further down to the small of his back and pulls him in like a dance partner. Closer than that, until their hips are flush, and he can grind filthy against Stede's thigh to the same sinuous rhythm as he kisses him back, again and again, a little more open-mouthed and demanding each time. ]

[he squeaks a little, surprised at Ed's hand on his back, surprised at anyone's hand on his back really that's pulling him closer rather than pushing him back. He returns the kisses with equal fervor, swept away by the tide of them, the insistence, the warm heat of Ed's mouth. His other hand he finds fisted in the back of Ed's shirt, less pulling close and more holding on for dear life.

It's not until he feels that--that against him that he startles and pulls back a little]

Gosh, you're er... you're quite... [euphemism... euphemism...] attentive. [and he is too come to think of it and now he can't stop thinking about it with Ed moving against him] Ah... hm... This is... is a bit...new isn't it?

Edited 2023-06-21 01:03 (UTC)

[ For a bit there's such a haze of warmth and motion, and being kissed back and pulled close that when there's suddenly cool air and Stede's voice saying things that aren't, 'yes, ed, please ravish me,' that actually kind of sound like the opposite of that has Ed leaning back as well and forcibly gathering some actual fucking thoughts into his head. ]

Oh, sorry. Too quick, yeah? My bad.

[ The fear of having overstepped is an instant kick to the balls, and Ed's hands both slide finger-light down Stede's arms and come to rest as his elbows, and he leans a step back, giving them both a little space.

It's then that he realizes the fake moustaches are still on both of them, looking really fucking ridiculous, and he huffs a breathless laugh as he lifts the glasses off, and tries to joke some lighter air back into the room by referencing their fake identities from before. ]

It's an Italian thing. They're even worse than the French.

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