Chapter Text
Izzy Hands had been called many things in his life along the lines of an eccentric choice. It was a description he respected… because it was true. He was no ordinary secretary. He wasn’t pretty, he wasn’t inviting, he wasn’t nice. His voice wasn’t soothing over the phone. He wasn’t even polite, which one might think was the bare minimum at least. Izzy loved being sneered at and called names, and he loved it because he knew that Mr Teach knew what people thought of him, and kept him on anyway. That meant he meant something to Mr Teach. That kept Izzy going. He was proud of being an eccentric choice because he was Edward’s choice.
One thing he had never been called was ‘poor thing’, and he certainly didn’t feel proud of having earned that description, from no less than Edward’s bumbling, annoying husband, Stede Bonnet. But he hadn’t been expecting Bonnet to swing around the back of Izzy’s desk and look at Izzy’s monitor. Hadn’t expected Bonnet to catch a glimpse of his desktop picture—a scan of a newspaper article from 1999, a large picture of a young Edward beneath the headline ‘ED TEACH BLACKBEARD INC. SUCCESS’—and coo sympathetically in a way that made Izzy’s stomach turn.
“I’m nobody’s poor thing, you insolent fuck,” Izzy hissed. He felt comfortable verbally abusing Edward’s husband because he’d been doing it for years, and he was still here, wasn’t he? Edward was his boss, not this guy. This guy didn’t even have the guts to tell on him to his husband.
“That’s been your desktop picture for eight years, Mr Hands,” Bonnet said quietly. Izzy noticed Lucius staring from his matching desk at the opposite end of the room. Having been caught, Lucius quickly busied himself with paperclips or some shit.
“I’m a fan of the company,” Izzy growled through gritted teeth. “Real devoted worker, I am.”
“Oh, I know,” Bonnet said, and had the audacity to reach down to Izzy’s mouse and close the browser, exposing the desktop again. “Did you know I’m in that picture?”
Izzy stared at the photo, Edward shielding his eyes from the flash, his beard black as ink, wearing leather head-to-toe. His gaze drifted to Edward’s other hand, which was holding someone else’s. Someone conspicuously cropped from the picture.
“And?” Izzy asked. Of course he knew that was Stede’s hand. They’d used pictures from the same night in an article they’d published the next day about how the Bonnet heir and the entrepreneur were still really good friends. Twenty years later and the whole world knew the two men were happily married, and Izzy had to sit there every day like he had the right to be jealous. In that article, Bonnet had not been cropped out.
“That’s my hand there,” Stede said as if he somehow had convinced himself Izzy, with his twitching sneer, radiating fury, had asked him to elaborate.
“I know it’s your hand in the picture,” Izzy said. “I know it’s your money that started the company. Did you come over here just to remind me you own him, or do you have better things to do? He’s busy all day, by the way. No openings. You’ll have to come back later.”
“Very fond of Ed, aren’t you, Izzy?” Stede asked. His voice was quiet now, and over the air-con, maybe Lucius couldn’t hear.
Izzy was silent, nails digging into his palms. Did Bonnet really come here just to rub it in his face?
“I’m not a cruel man, Izzy,” Bonnet said, and Izzy resented being referred to so familiarly by him. “I am in possession of a very valuable commodity. And who would I be if I wasn’t willing to share?”
What the fuck was he talking about now? Izzy would’ve decked him in the face if he’d been standing up and facing him. If this twat didn’t start making some sense—
Bonnet leaned down conspiratorially, and the look of complete earnestness on his face took Izzy by surprise. “I know something you can do to drive Ed absolutely wild.” And then he had grinned.
And that, more or less, had been where it started.
“What?” Izzy spat. “You think I’m gonna believe you’re telling me how to seduce your husband ?”
Something clattered across the room, and Izzy struck Lucius with an icy glare as the boy hurriedly started picking up paperclips and the little dish he kept them in off the floor.
“Meet me in the cafeteria on your break. If you let me in to see Ed, I’ll get you an extended lunch,” Stede said with all the hammy hush-hush energy of the cheesiest spy drama Izzy’d ever seen. And he looked absolutely delighted with himself, too. Izzy grimaced. “I have a feeling that there’s quite a long conversation we should have.”
Begrudgingly, Izzy had agreed.
---
Izzy stood awkwardly near the entrance to the cafeteria on floor 16, the smell of hot food permeating the air as he clenched and unclenched his fists at his sides. He didn’t come here often. Generally, he considered buying lunch out a pointless waste of money, and he didn’t know where he was meant to be meeting Bonnet, so people were giving him odd looks as they passed him at the entrance.
Bonnet was only two minutes late, but Izzy was on the verge of turning around and going back to his desk by the time the man surprised him by clapping him on the shoulder from behind, making him startle and spin around.
“Izzy,” Bonnet greeted.
“Mr Hands,” Izzy corrected.
“Mr Hands,” Bonnet ceded. “Come on.”
The blond dragged Izzy over to a table around a corner in a quiet part of the dining hall, instructed him to wait, and then left, returning all of ten minutes later with two trays of food. Izzy blinked at him.
“Just a light lunch, is it, today?” Izzy jabbed sarcastically, noting both the trays were rather thoroughly packed with food.
Bonnet sat and deposited the food in front of them. He looked down thoughtfully and then gave a pat to his belly with a smile. “The tabloids certainly love to talk about it,” he said.
Bonnet wasn’t as skinny as he’d been when he was in his 20s. Neither was Ed. But none of that mattered much. Izzy wasn’t exactly his spritely youthful self either, and none of them were anything beyond what Izzy might call chubby. Still, Izzy didn’t mean it as a jab at Stede’s weight, and he actually felt a little disgusted at himself that he almost felt bad about it seeming that way.
Izzy was just about to open his mouth to tell Bonnet to stop whining or something, when Bonnet beat him to speaking.
“But no, actually. Lunch was on me, but I’d already eaten. So… this is all for you.”
Izzy blinked. “Dumbarse,” he muttered under his breath, and he wasn’t sure what he meant by it. How was Izzy gonna eat this? Maybe, if this was what Stede thought an appropriate lunch to buy someone was, it was Stede he had to thank for the way, the last year more than anything, Edward’s belly was exposed when he leant back in his chair, soft like Izzy could press his hands into it—
Izzy picked up a fork and started clumsily twirling his spaghetti.
“I know you may find this hard to imagine, Izzy, but my relationship with Ed is open to many things. Fresh influences,” Bonnet started.
“If you’re about to tell me you just finished reading Fifty Shades of Grey, please don’t,” Izzy said with his mouth full just to annoy that prissy prick. It didn’t seem to annoy him at all, so Izzy shoved another mouthful in, too much and messy, hoping another display of impoliteness would rattle Bonnet at least a little. The other man, much to Izzy’s annoyance, just smiled in this terrible way that gave one the impression he knew something one did not, and Izzy was anything but a fan of that.
“I’m sorry to shatter your impression of me, Israel, but we were doing some of those things long before E. L. James was butchering etiquette,” Bonnet said with a gentle smile. Izzy suddenly felt caught in an odd, inexplicable way.
“What the fuck did you want to tell me?” Izzy asked, hoping to lift his empty plate and lick it would at least get a twitch out of Bonnet. It didn’t.
“You’d like Ed to notice you, wouldn’t you, Izzy? But you’re not much of a seductress.”
“If you… you want me to— to— seduce your husband, I don’t know what kind of romance novel you think you’re living in, but you seem pretty confused about how they work,” Izzy hissed and shoved a croissant filled with melted cheese half into his mouth, tearing off a large bite. Part of him was still trying to rile Bonnet, part of him was aware that wasn’t working. At this point, it was mostly his unfortunate habit of stress-eating rearing its head.
“Oh, but I’d really rather enjoy that, Izzy. And Ed is well aware that I would— not— no, don’t look like that! I haven’t told him about your enamourment! I wouldn’t be so audacious, Izzy, really . Understand, I meant it would be far from the first time another party has entered our relationship, mutually consensual, of course.”
Izzy felt like all the air had gone from the room for a moment. This was probably the first point in their conversation that Izzy had really felt like Stede was being serious about this whole thing.
“And I happen to know something you can do that would put you on Ed’s mind constantly ,” Stede grinned.
“Really?” Izzy said, and he hoped how stupid he thought this whole thing was could be heard as strongly in his tone as he thought it could.
“All you need to do, Izzy,” Stede said, “is eat.”
Izzy swallowed and dropped the spoon he’d been eating a plate of risotto with like it’d burned him. If he was telling the truth, if he wasn’t bullshitting, and eating was some kind of sex thing for… Stede and Ed—which Izzy had no current means to prove—Stede fucking Bonnet wasn’t getting a free show.
“Explain,” Izzy growled.
“I happen to know Ed would go wild seeing you indulge yourself. Overindulge yourself especially. Uncomfortably full. And seeing you get… bigger, I suppose. Put on weight.” There was an intensity in Bonnet’s eye contact that forced Izzy to look away for fear he might melt under it. Izzy’s hands were awkwardly still, afraid Bonnet might expect him to pick his spoon back up or keep eating if he moved them from where they were, so close to the excessive spread.
This could be absolute bullshit. Bonnet seemed so earnest about it, but that was a kink Izzy’d never heard of. A kink that went… against the preferences of most. But Bonnet would have to be pretty stupid to assume Izzy wouldn’t think of that, that this could all just be a ploy of jealousy to make Izzy unappealing to Edward. Then again… oh, this was utterly fucking stupid!
Izzy was about to tell Stede so when the man suddenly stood up. “I’ll leave you to think, Izzy. Oh, and your lunch break is extended until the end of the hour. You should have an email to confirm that.”
---
Ed looked up as Stede entered his office with a smile that never got old. “You quite like Izzy, don’t you, darling?” Stede asked.
Sometimes Ed talked about Izzy with Stede’s cock inside him, so, yeah. He was fairly fond of Izzy. “Stede, mate,” Ed said fondly, but a little worried. “What did you do this time?”
Stede mock-gasped, but he was very convincing. “Nothing at all,” he said. “I’m completely innocent. I did, however, tell Mr Hands that lunch was on me.”
Ed’s mouth went dry and he couldn’t quite explain what he was hoping for, but there was a rush of anticipation that went through his body like electricity.
After a beat, Stede spoke again. “Mm, love. I know you still have that patch through to the security cameras on your desktop. That one camera that’s pointed right where I usually sit for lunch.”
Poorly hiding his interest, Ed unlocked his computer. “Well, ok mate, I’ll check it out if you’re gonna be all mysterious about it.”
And he clicked. Immediately, his monitor was consumed with a live feed from the ceiling… of Izzy Hands sitting at a cafeteria table, two trays laden with food in front of him and three empty plates, shovelling food into his mouth with one hand and kneading at his belly with the other. Ed’s mouth went dry and his dick definitely twitched.
“ Stede, ” Ed said sternly. “ What did you do? ”
“Really, nothing, my dear. I just came up because I thought you might like to see this, is all. It just happened to happen, completely out of my influence.”
Ed didn’t quite believe that, but he definitely needed no convincing to know there was no way Izzy knew what this would do to Ed. Poor guy was just enjoying himself in a normal way, and Ed was perving through hidden cameras like a freak. He closed the window, boring desktop now staring back at him.
Even so, Ed wasn’t gonna stop thinking about Izzy anytime soon. Fuck. Stede really knew how to get him.
…He opened the window back up.
---
When Stede left, Izzy looked at his watch. There was still a while left of his break, and he had seen the email. Before he left, actually. He wouldn’t have come at all if Bonnet hadn’t pulled through on that particular promise.
There was a lot of food left that Bonnet had just left him with, and now that Bonnet had left, Izzy was a little more inclined to keep eating—after all, he wasn’t going to throw all this perfectly good food away. What a waste that would be.
He was completely full by the time he scraped the remainder of the small serving of risotto into his mouth. Unfortunately, there was still another plate of pasta, two croissants and a club sandwich in front of him. And he wasn’t just going to let those things go to waste.
Still, he maintained he wasn’t doing this for Edward, much less Bonnet. He still thought there was just no way to prove what Bonnet had said to him. Still, Bonnet’s words stuck with him. He growled and tried to ignore echoing whispers of overindulge, uncomfortably full crashing through his mind.
He paused for a while. Five minutes, almost, just looking down at the food. Izzy would maintain all his slacks fit him. This particular pair was a little tighter than the rest, but it wasn’t noticeable. When he put them on in the morning, he knew he’d have a light lunch.
But this was no light lunch, and the trousers were digging in a little. He’d just have to put up with it. He couldn’t explain the light thrill in his chest when he decided if he unbuttoned them before he finished eating, he might not be able to button them back up. Why was that exciting? Inconvenient. It was bloody inconvenient.
It was the smallest thing first, so the croissants he took large bites of and forced swallows with a glass of water to ease any lingering dryness.
Waistband tight, Izzy kneaded his belly. He wasn’t sure how he figured that might help, but it was near-instinctual. He didn’t want to keep eating when he pulled the sandwich towards him. Sauces were sticky leaking out between his fingers as he took slow bites, panting between them, working himself up to every one.
He glanced at his watch. There wasn’t much time left. Licking his fingers off and pushing another now-empty plate away from him, he groaned. He was leaning back in his seat, a hand on his belly. “ Fuck, stupid Stede fucking Bonnet,” he hissed.
He glared daggers at someone a table away when they glanced at him after he stifled a burp in his fist and pulled the final plate towards himself. Those mouthfuls he really had to force. It was hard to make himself swallow, and when he tried, he almost couldn’t.
He grimaced standing up. He could feel that his shirt—chosen just lose enough not to show the shape of his belly—was hugging his stomach. If he was panting sitting still, walking swiftly to the elevator and trying not to make it too obvious how heavy he felt had him panting much more.
He was panting heavily when he stepped out of the elevator and walked back to his desk. Lucius was looking at him.
“What?” he snapped.
“Are you alright? You look sort of… ah…”
“Stede fucking Bonnet,” Izzy panted. “Bought me fucking lunch.”
Lucius’s confused concern turned to an oddly wicked smile. “Did he now?”
Izzy opted to ignore that.
---
Edward didn’t look at Izzy when he walked past him, leaving at 5:02 pm. Izzy didn’t think much of that. Sometimes Ed looked, sometimes he didn’t. Sometimes he smiled, sometimes he frowned. It didn’t matter.
“Are you coming?” Lucius asked, pulling a tote bag with a picture of a daisy on it over his shoulder and heading to the elevator.
“Overtime,” Izzy spat back.
Lucius shrugged and left. And now reception and Ed’s office were both empty, and Izzy stood up and marched to Ed’s office with confidence enough to not seem like he was doing anything wrong if Ivan actually decided to look at the security feeds for once.
He stood at Ed’s desk, leaning over, typing in a password Ed had trusted him with once, a password that hadn’t changed. The computer opened onto a desktop filled with folders. If Stede wasn’t bullshitting, there just had to be evidence of that somewhere. Ed’s browser history was conspicuously recently cleared. Izzy found his folders seemed unassuming.
But there was one in the middle labelled ACCOUNTING, and it didn’t have a year or a month or a project label like the others. It didn’t specify budget or paychecks or anything. It was plain, oddly plain.
And Izzy clicked on it, only to immediately shield his eyes from the horrifically explicit thumbnails. Yeah, Ed hadn’t changed much from when he used to keep salacious magazines openly in the top drawer of his bedside dresser when they’d been dormmates in university.
Izzy sort of respected how more or less unabashed about things he was. Of course he’d keep stuff like this on his work computer. Izzy tried not to think about when he used it, or how many times Izzy had been a pane of glass and closed shutters away from Ed in bliss.
He clicked rapidly on random videos, looking, scrubbing through and cringing at all the close-up shots of slick genitalia that didn’t really do it for him, given he didn’t know these men or what they were like, really.
Sure, a decent amount of the stuff featured bigger guys. Some guys quite a lot bigger than Izzy would have expected. But that didn’t mean Ed would enjoy Izzy eating. It didn’t mean he’d enjoy Izzy gaining weight. It just meant he’d probably be capable of finding Izzy attractive if he did. It was no guarantee he’d be driven wild by… what Stede told him to do.
Then again, no matter what, there was no real guarantee even if Ed was into it that he’d find it hot when Izzy was doing it. That made his chest hurt a little, so he didn’t think about it.
Nothing was really indicating what Izzy had—had he hoped to see it? Hoped Stede was telling the truth?—been looking for. Not until an mp4 labelled Kyle M 1 , and it stood out to Izzy not only because the subject (some random man Izzy had never seen before) was alone, but because he was skinnier than any of the other men Izzy had seen so far. And then, Izzy’s eyes widened as the man on the screen pulled a truly obscene amount of pasta towards him, and began to eat.
Izzy scrubbed to the end of the video, and even with the computer on such a low volume, he heard the man on the screen pant and burp. And he goggled at how bloated ‘Kyle M’ was, his stomach bulging in a way Izzy could hardly believe. Izzy might not have known it were possible for someone to put that much in their stomach if he weren’t watching it happen on the screen.
Nervously, Izzy typed Kyle M into the search bar in the folder, and clicked on the most recent mp4, marked 103 this time. It was the same sort of thing, only now, the bloating was half-hidden by the man’s rather impressive belly. And Izzy searched through the rest of the videos, able to piece together a timeline of growth, and his mouth felt dry and… why was this hot?
With a few right-clicks and typing in a basic command, Izzy was able to open the viewing history on the videos of Kyle M. The earlier ones had been opened maybe 30 times each. The later ones, upwards of 80. Hurriedly, he checked the same information on the rest of the videos, the ‘normal’ ones. They’d been viewed once or twice.
And Izzy remembered another thing about that drawer of magazines in their university dorm. Most of them had been full of pictures of women. It was only one, tucked in the middle, that had pictures of men. And that was the only one worn at the edges.
Izzy might have left then, satisfied Bonnet had been truthful. But when he clicked away from the search and back into the folder, he saw that one of the videos had been saved today, around 1 pm. And of course, he had to click on it. What he did not expect to see was a video of himself eating lunch from the angle of the security camera on the cafeteria ceiling.
What was this absolute bullshit? Ed didn’t… didn’t like him that much, he wouldn’t… none of this was real.
Izzy could feel his heart beating in his throat and he was afraid he’d cry. He pushed it away with a furious yell and bashed his fist into his thigh.
Pulling out his phone with shaking hands, Izzy clicked on a number he hadn’t used since Stede Bonnet had first shaken his hand, before Blackbeard Inc., before Izzy stopped talking to Ed for years, before… everything had gone wrong. When Ed was Izzy’s.
He snapped an awkward picture of the video on Ed’s monitor. He didn’t really care if Stede told on him at that point, not even with photographic evidence. Maybe it was best he was fired anyway. His life might be over then and he wouldn’t really care. He still had a length of rope in the linen press from when he’d first learned Stede and Ed were dating. It might finally find its use. Then again, he was always dramatic. That rope never had a use other than to remind him he was miserable.
He sent the photo and typed with shaking fingers, mistakes corrected perfectly and that just infuriated him more. This is your doing, isn’t it, Bonnet?
The message was read almost immediately. And Bonnet typed and stopped and typed and stopped. Finally, what came through was a single Yes.
If Bonnet had been behind this one video…
Izzy scrubbed through the rest of the videos and pictures, looking at them, terrified. But then he began to remember something; the save dates. The dates on the view logs, too. This collection had been accrued over years, and… well, the eating videos were not all recent. Stede wouldn’t have been planning a fuckery on Izzy for years right where Ed could see it.
And then, the only reason he could think of for Stede to have put that video of Izzy on Ed’s computer… was so Ed would see it.
You wanted him to see it, Izzy sent.
Yes, Stede replied again.
You weren’t bullshitting me, Izzy texted back. He’s into it?
He’s VERY into it ;)
Izzy thought about all the times he’d seen Ed get up and close the shutters on the windows of his office. Heat rose on his cheeks, and he almost sat down to breathe for a moment when he checked the clock and realised he should probably try and catch the next train home.