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How I Miss Yesterday

Summary:

“Where’s Izzy?” Young Ed asks when he turns around at the door.

Stede looks behind him, but sometime in the space he’s been walking after Young Ed, Izzy has vanished. “I… don’t know. Do you need him?”

“Nah,” Young Ed says, in a deceptively casual tone of voice.

This Ed’s just as bad at schooling his face though, and his expression suggests that he does, in fact, need Izzy.

Notes:

It absolutely broke my brain trying to figure out if it counts as infidelity if you're twenty-plus years younger and don't know your current self's boyfriend. And then I remembered cucking is a thing and broke my brain thinking about whether this qualifies for that. I don't know. I am mystified. Stede's not going to stop them but he's not really actively into it either. If that kind of stuff makes you uncomfortable, should probably steer clear of this one just in case.

Anyway. *Sees all the young Izzy content and decides to be a contrary bastard*

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

“And then what happened?”

“Well, as one of Blackbeard’s finest advisors,” Black Pete says and the rest of the crew loudly sigh or roll their eyes, except for the dark-haired pirate hanging upside-down from the rigging. “I helped him to take the Spanish warship, and even took a couple of their toes for trophies. We all got crazy drunk that night.”

“Sounds like a good time. I wish I remembered it.”

“You will,” Black Pete says confidently, and Lucius presses a hand to his own forehead. “When you get back to your time, don’t forget about your best buddy Black Pete.”

“Pete makes it sound so believable,” Stede says from his spot nearby, standing off to the side and supervising the current goings-on. “I still can’t believe he was lying about knowing Ed the whole time! Do you think that’s going to affect anything if this one goes home and remembers all of this?”

“We don’t know if it’s time travel or if he’s just magically acquired more youth,” Oluwande says. “There’s fountains that do that, I think. I’ve heard stories before.”

“We haven’t been near any fountains, though,” Stede says.

“It doesn’t matter,” Izzy says evenly from where he’s leaning against the railing, arms crossed over his chest. “Edward knows Pete’s lying to him. He’s not stupid, as much as he likes to act it.”

Stede glances back at Ed – well, it’s not Ed.

But it is.

But it isn’t.

This Ed that they’re dealing with right now is not their Ed, the one watching Black Pete with curiosity from his upside-down perch, hair pulled into a messy updo that’s all shiny black without a single streak of grey. His face is more scruff than beard, his body void of the many scars and marks that Stede’s traced his fingers over. He's missing half his tattoos and his shirt reminds Stede of what Izzy wears now, black and soft and billowing at the sleeves, although the way it rides up Young Ed’s stomach to reveal a stripe of skin is the same as the older one.

He’s still beautiful – in a slightly different way, though, more of a wildfire than the warm comfort of a hearth.

Stede turns to say something similar to Oluwande, only to find that he’s disappeared to the other side of the ship where Jim has emerged from below deck. He sighs.

It’s nice that Jim and Oluwande are seeing each other (he’s been told that he’s not allowed to call them lovers, which he’s a little sad about.) Either way, it’s very sweet, but he can’t say that he doesn’t miss them a little. He turns his gaze back to the rigging in time to see Young Ed hanging by one knee, drifting back and forth with the breeze.

"So, erm... how old is he?" Stede asks hesitantly, stepping back so he’s standing a smidgen closer to Izzy, who at least doesn’t seem like he’s going to abandon Stede for anyone else.

"Twenties," Izzy says. His eyes haven't left Young Ed for a long time. It's hard to tell what his expression is meant to convey. He’d been the only one that Young Ed hadn’t pulled his gun on, although Izzy hadn’t made any attempt to stop Young Ed from trying to shoot anyone. "No more than thirty."

"How can you tell?"

Izzy sighs, shifts in place. He doesn’t stomp away and frankly Stede considers that a victory in of itself. "Tattoos. His clothes. He got the knee brace two days after his thirtieth birthday."

"Oh," Stede says. "Well, that makes it easy!"

Izzy grunts, unimpressed.

“Time for lunch!” Stede announces, clapping his hands together. “Ed, would you like to come with me and we’ll take our meal in the captain’s quarters?”

Young Ed drops from the rigging in response, lands in an easy crouch. There’s a smoothness to his movements that remind Stede of Jim, quick and slightly dangerous. He hasn’t tried to kill anyone since that first alarming appearance, thankfully, but the machete on his hip doesn’t have a sheath and the blade is sharp and obvious against his pants.

“We don’t eat with the crew?” he asks, giving the others a sideways look.

“Er,” Stede says awkwardly. “No, not usually. Is that something you’d prefer?”

“It’s fine,” Young Ed says, loping off in the direction of the captain’s quarters.

Stede turns to look at Izzy. He resents that he has to look to Izzy for handling Ed right now.

Izzy shrugs, curls his lip. “He’s barely been a captain at this point. Still used to being crammed in with all the other idiots in the galley for meals. He’ll be fine, Bonnet.”

Stede supposes he’ll have to take Izzy’s word for it, so he follows.

“Where’s Izzy?” Young Ed asks when he turns around at the door.

Stede looks behind him, but sometime in the space he’s been walking after Young Ed, Izzy has vanished. “I… don’t know. Do you need him?”

“Nah,” Young Ed says, in a deceptively casual tone of voice.

This Ed’s just as bad at schooling his face though, and his expression suggests that he does, in fact, need Izzy.

“I can-” Stede’s about to offer, when Roach comes in with a roast that makes Young Ed’s eyes go round. He’s distracted in favour of tearing into the food like he’s been starved for months.

Stede sits across from him and wonders if it’s intrusive to ask about his life like this.

“Are you… getting enough to eat in your time?” he finds himself asking.

Young Ed shrugs, mouth full of potatoes. “Kinda. Izzy always gives me his share, but…”

Stede dreads to think about how skinny a young Izzy must have been, looking at Young Ed.

Young Ed isn't interested in him – or he is, but in the same way that normal Ed is interested in Karl or model ships or fancy clothes. He’s not rude. He chatters about Stede's wardrobe and asks him questions about the modern world at large, but only until he gets distracted by the next new thing to pop up. Stede's a novelty to him, nothing else.

In comparison, he will not leave Izzy alone.

It's almost funny watching Izzy do his best to avoid this bouncy, excited, new (well, old) Ed following him around the ship – there's only so many places Izzy can hide even with the addition of secret passages, and this Ed seems to have a sixth sense for where he's going to go and has more than enough energy to hunt him down with sheer single-minded determination. It makes Stede think that Izzy mustn’t have changed much in the last twenty years. He’s reminded a little of watching a duckling trailing a mother duck, or a dog and its master.

It's a strange thing to see Ed following Izzy instead of the other way around, his eyes dark and shining with curiosity and delight and affection. He's still taller than Izzy but he drapes himself over the man like a cape if Izzy stands still for longer then five seconds, leans up against him with his head on Izzy's shoulder or his chin set against Izzy’s hair, which isn’t surviving Young Ed’s treatment very well.

Izzy consistently looks a little dishevelled now, just from how often Young Ed is touching him. It makes Stede wonder what they were like when they were young, when the careful distance between them that he sees nowadays started to appear. He thinks he saw current Ed brush his fingers against Izzy’s elbow once in the last month, but that’s all he can remember.

Stede does try to run interference so Izzy can have a moment to himself, but it’s hard work. He’s not nearly as good at captivating this Ed’s attention, as it turns out.

(He tries not to let it grow insecurities under his skin.)

Truth be told, Stede misses his Ed.

“Mr Buttons,” Stede calls as the man wanders past. “Do you have any idea how to get our Ed back at all? It’s not as if I don’t enjoy his company like this, but, er…”

“Ach,” Buttons says. “Should fix itself soon enough, cap’n. Don’t worry yer pretty head about it.”

That’s all well and good, but Stede would rather be able to have a time frame to work with.

It doesn’t look like Buttons plans on giving him that, though. Stede watches dejectedly as he wanders away again, muttering something about the moon cycles. He doesn’t want to admit that he misses his Ed after so little time has passed in the scheme of things, but it’s true. He’s feeling a little lost without his co-captain.

A clamour from the main deck rouses him from his thoughts and he looks up to see Young Ed practically pinning Izzy up against the mast, teeth bared and his knee pushed between Izzy’s legs.

The rest of the crew is standing around watching curiously and Stede hurries over to see what the problem is.

If they’re fighting – what does he do? Getting in-between a (likely more volatile) Edward Teach and Izzy Hands seems like a horrid idea from any angle, but especially like this. He can’t throw Ed into the brig for attacking Izzy, de-aged or not, can’t reprimand him at all, and for once in their lives this probably isn’t even Izzy’s fault so he can’t do anything there either.

There’s no weapons, though, and he lets out a sigh of relief. “What happened?” he whispers to Lucius.

“Baby Ed’s getting sick of Izzy avoiding him,” Lucius answers. He doesn’t look away from the scene in front of him.

“I want to see them fight,” Frenchie says. “Bets on who’s gonna win? Guys?”

“Fifty on Blackbeard Junior,” Wee John responds.

“I bet on Hands,” Jim says.

Ah. That’s an unfortunate development. Luckily Young Ed doesn’t even seem to have noticed them, too busy planting one hand right next to Izzy’s ear on the mast, leaning in close and menacing. Blackbeard Junior is more apt than Stede expects, looking at him like this – he’s intimidating in a way that their Ed isn’t simply because they don’t know what he’s capable of. Of course Izzy knows, but it’s hard to say whether he’d do anything to fight Ed even if he was in mortal peril.

Izzy isn’t even trying to escape, which sets off alarm bells as well. He’s just staring into Young Ed’s face, doing absolutely nothing about the situation.

“What are they arguing about?” he asks Oluwande, who makes a face and doesn’t answer.

“I bet on Blackbeard too,” the Swede says.

“No, no, we don’t do that here. I’ll just-” Stede says, stepping forward, and then-

"Whose ring is this?" Young Ed demands, tapping his finger against Izzy's cravat. He's wearing a couple of rings of his own but they're solid silver and steel, no gemstones or gold yet. Why would the ring be a cause for- "Did someone get to you before I did? Fucker. I'll fuckin’ kill them for touching you. I’ll get a better ring.”

Stede feels like someone's thrown ice water over him.

Around him, the ship goes eerily silent.

“Shit, Iz, I thought you'd wait for me,” Young Ed says, completely unaware of the audience they’ve attracted (or that he just doesn’t care.) “You said you would."

Izzy looks away.

Oh dear.

"Perhaps," Stede says, and it comes out so quiet and raspy that he has to try again. "Perhaps this isn't the best place for this conversation. If we took it to the captain’s quarters instead…?"

"There's no fucking conversation to be had. He’s not a part of your crew and neither am I," Izzy spits at him.

Young Ed grabs him by the back of the vest and drags him along anyway, following Stede’s direction with a fire in his eyes that is a little frightening to witness. He gets it in that moment; the easy way Young Ed takes control of the situation, of Izzy. He gets Blackbeard more than he did, because he sees someone capable of burning down ships and laying ruin to everything he touches in Young Ed’s eyes.

Stede closes the doors to the crew’s curious staring and turns around to see Izzy get shoved into a chair. It’s rough but Izzy goes with it easily enough that he doesn’t fall or overbalance, sinking into the cushions with his eyes fixed on the floor. He’s avoiding looking at Young Ed now, who’s standing over him with a complicated expression that’s equal parts frustration, violence, and complete bewilderment.

“I don’t get it,” Young Ed says. “I knew I was dating him,” and with this he gestures at Stede one-handedly without even looking at him (it stings, even as he tries not to let it,) “but you’re still my first mate. You’re still here.”

“You’re still my captain,” Izzy returns. His face is unsettlingly void of any emotion. “But that’s it.”

"We're not...?" Young Ed says, looks a little lost about it.

"Never," Izzy answers flatly, shakes his head. It makes a strand of hair fall loose, curling over his forehead. "And we're never going to."

"...do you not like me?"

Izzy is silent.

"Did you ever like me?" Young Ed asks, small all of a sudden.

"I'm sure that's not-" Stede starts, because as much as he doesn't necessarily like this conversation, he doesn't like the wobble in Young Ed's voice, the sudden downturn of his lips. He doesn’t look like Blackbeard anymore. Whatever the current Ed might've felt about this situation, this one's heart is being thoroughly and completely broken by Izzy right in front of Stede's eyes. His chest aches in sympathy.

"Shut up, Bonnet. It doesn't matter," Izzy says.

"It matters to me," Young Ed exclaims. "Fuck, Iz, you're telling me that everything we went through meant nothing to you? Years of it being you and me against the world? All those nights in the crow's nest together, the duels, the people you killed, all of it was just-?"

"It meant everything to me," Izzy snaps, fingers clenched tight on his thighs. "Fuck you, Edward. This isn't fair."

"You're not being fair to me!" Young Ed shouts. "I wake up here and everything's fuckin’ changed. I don’t know the ship, I don’t know these people, I don’t know what I’m doing here. Everyone’s gone except for you but you hate me now and I don't know why, when we were supposed to be-"

"I don't hate you, you self-absorbed prick," Izzy shouts back. "I’m still in love with you the same fucking way I’ve been for the last thirty-plus fucking years! Everything I’ve done for the last thirty-plus fucking years has been for you!”

Well, it’s not as if Stede hadn’t known.

Young Ed’s voice cracks. “Then why won’t you look at me?”

"It doesn't fucking matter, I told you. You're going to go back to normal," Izzy says, "and you're going to get bored of me again, and you're going to go back to mooning over him," punctuated by a particularly vicious gloved finger pointing at Stede, "and none of this is going to fucking matter."

Stede doesn’t say a word.

“It’s just a fucking… dalliance,” Izzy says, in a tone that suggests he’s echoing someone else’s words. “This is your fucking life now, Edward. This is our life now. You’re happy like this. Get used to it and leave me alone.”

Strange to think he feels bad for Izzy, though.

Young Ed mulls that over for a moment. "Well, if it doesn't matter, can I kiss you?" he asks simply.

"I- what?"

Stede's openly staring now too as Young Ed grins, devilish and sure of himself. He still looks a little watery around the eyes but he’s looking more and more confident now that he’s confirmed that Izzy returns his feelings. "I'm good at it," he wheedles. "C'mon, Iz, you'll enjoy it, I promise. I’ll be nice about it."

The ice in Izzy’s expression cracks, just a little. “Nothing you do is nice,” he says, which doesn’t seem to discourage Young Ed in the slightest.

Izzy doesn’t move an inch as Young Ed slides into his lap, knees on either side of his thighs so he can’t escape, settling his weight on Izzy’s legs and placing one hand slightly possessively against Izzy’s cheek, fingertips brushing the tattoo there.

"Stede can watch if he wants," Young Ed says, loud enough for Stede to hear. He gets a sideways glance as well, dark eyes full of promise in a way that he’s intimately familiar with even if he knows it’s largely reserved for Izzy right now.

Stede doesn’t say anything at all. He gets the feeling Young Ed’s not offering because he wants Stede here, particularly. He’s not sure why he’d come into the room in the first place, why he’s here. Does he want to watch his lover kiss someone else, especially if it’s someone he was clearly in love with at some point, someone who’s still in love with him?

(He doesn’t leave, though.)

"Fucking brat," Izzy says. He's blushing as Young Ed presses a kiss to his jaw, his cheek, the corner of his eye. He doesn't pull away though and Ed laughs, bright and pleased about it. "Go bother someone else with your nonsense."

"I don't want to," Young Ed says. “I want you.”

“You don’t,” Izzy says, but it’s quiet and useless. He still leans up into it when Young Ed kisses him properly, lets him press that satisfied smile against his lips.

It’s oddly sweet.

Stede doesn’t feel nearly as bad about it as he thought he would. His heart melts a little bit for the way Izzy turns his head to the side and Young Ed just presses more kisses to the side of his face until he turns back, Izzy’s lips curving up into a hopeless little smile as well. They’re still being chaste about it, although Young Ed’s got both hands cupping Izzy’s face now, gentle but firm about it.

And then Young Ed licks into Izzy’s mouth – the flash of tongue easily visible from the angle Stede’s standing at – and Izzy moans, his own hand coming up to press into the small of Young Ed’s back.

“Oh yeah,” Young Ed murmurs. “Fuck, Izzy. Like that. Want your cock.”

Stede feels his face flush, a flicker of warmth in the pit of his stomach.

No one’s looking at him, so it’s not like it matters.

“Thought you just wanted a kiss,” Izzy says. He sounds completely and utterly overwhelmed.

Young Ed laughs. “Well, now I want more. Can’t make a sound like that and expect me to ignore it, mate.”

“Greedy,” Izzy breathes.

“If this is all we get, I’m gonna take everything,” Young Ed says against Izzy’s mouth, slightly muffled by the way he can’t stop kissing Izzy between every couple of words. “Tell me you don’t want it too.”

Izzy groans. “Fuck’s sake, Ed.”

Oh, goodness. Stede’s palms are so sweaty that he feels like he should be dripping on the floor. He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to feel about this. Ed isn’t his, and this Ed certainly isn’t his, but he’s still Ed. He’s still the man that Stede’s in love with but he’s not but he is and Stede’s still standing here, watching Young Ed’s satisfied little smirk over getting Izzy exactly where he wants him.

“We can do it like this,” Young Ed says, and he visibly grinds himself down on Izzy’s lap. “You don’t even need to move, I’ll just take it like this. You’ll like it.”

“Stop begging,” Izzy says. “‘s fucking – undignified for a captain to talk to his first mate like that.”

“Oh yeah?” Young Ed says. “You wanna beg instead?”

“I,” Izzy says, stops.

“Think I’d like it if you did,” he adds.

“Please,” Izzy says, barely above a whisper.

“Yeah,” Young Ed says, delighted as he leans in for another kiss. He stands up after that, starts working off his pants. He’s not wearing any underwear beneath the pants and Stede’s just as oddly entranced as Izzy is, watching him wriggle them off his slim hips and throw them aside. “Just like that, baby.”

The way that this Ed handles Izzy – laughably easy, casually, comfortably dominant – Stede gets it now, why Izzy always looks so lost when Ed doesn’t take any control of the situations they get into now. If he’d been dealing with this Ed for all those years, of course he doesn’t know what to do with himself without him.

“Please,” Izzy says again.

“Mm,” Young Ed says, leans over to fumble with Izzy’s pants as well. He doesn’t take them off completely, just tugs them down enough to pull his cock out before he slings himself back into Izzy’s lap like he belongs there, like there’s nowhere else he’d rather be. “Knew you’d be hot like this. Perfect dick.”

“Running your damn mouth again,” Izzy mutters.

Young Ed tugs the glove off of his hand with his teeth and drops it off the side of the chair, grins dangerously before he licks up his own palm. It’s showy and wet and nothing like Stede’s ever seen before, as Young Ed does it again before reaching down to wrap his hand around Izzy’s cock to slick it up. He gets up on his knees to change position slightly, line up Izzy’s cock against his hole.

“Wait,” Izzy says. “You’re not-”

“I can take it without,” Young Ed says. “I like it.”

“Slut,” Izzy mutters, but the way he says it is more sweet than Stede’s ever it sound from anyone’s mouth. He gets a soft laugh for his efforts, and Young Ed sinking down on his dick.

“Ah, fuck.”

“Are you- okay?”

“Fine,” Young Ed says, tipping his head back. His hair’s falling loose of its tie, soft curls of dark hair down his back as he rocks his hips experimentally. “Feels good. Can I kiss you again? I want to kiss you again.”

“You can have whatever the fuck you want,” Izzy says hoarsely. “Anything. You always could.”

Young Ed’s face lights up with joy as he leans in again, starting to fuck himself on Izzy’s cock as he does.

Stede’s not meant to see this, despite the invitation and Izzy’s complete and utter lack of protest. He doesn’t feel right watching them – it’s not even the sexual part of it that makes him feel unwelcome, it’s the complete and utter adoration on Young Ed’s face as he cups Izzy’s neck with both hands, the way Izzy’s touching him so painfully careful it’s like he thinks that Ed’s made of glass.

He’s not even a voyeur, not really. He’s pretty sure they’ve forgotten he’s there at all.

Right now their whole world is each other and strangely, he doesn’t want to ruin it for them. He gets up quietly, the click of his shoes against the floor gone unnoticed under their soft gasps, the sounds of their bodies moving together.

“I love you,” Young Ed confesses. “So much. I don’t care about the rest of this shit, whatever I’m doing here, whatever old me cares about, I just- I saw you.”

Stede stops, lingers in the doorway just out of sight.

“Fuck,” Izzy says. “You can’t say that, you can’t-”

“Can too,” Young Ed argues.

Izzy only groans in response.

“I’m not gonna last much longer,” Young Ed says, voice suddenly muffled. He’s probably pressing his face into Izzy’s shoulder the way that the current Ed does to Stede when he’s overwhelmed, mouthing at the skin there.

“Impatient brat,” Izzy retorts, then hisses out a curse. “Fucking biting me.”

“Know you like it,” Young Ed says. “Saw you get hard when Jack smacked your ass that one time, fuck, I wanted to join in but you would’ve thought I was trying to fuck around instead of trying to fuck you.”

What happened to them?

“Fucking-”

“Oh, oh, Izzy, fuck, that’s- I love you, I-” Young Ed says, voice lilting higher, and then-

Silence.

Stede lets out the breath that’s gotten lodged in his lungs.

“What the-”

Fuck,” Izzy finishes, and it’s clear just from that three-word exchange that Ed’s back to normal.

More silence.

"Why am I naked? Weird," Ed says and then a heartbeat later, slightly more worried. "You're crying, mate. Why are you crying?"

"I'm not-" Izzy snaps, but his voice is thick with emotion. He hears the faintest rustle of movement and then Izzy sobs, loud and obvious.

Stede finally walks away, then.

 

 

Ed and Izzy seem happy to pretend it never happened and so are the crew, apart from a few differences.

Some of the hero worship from the crew is gone, now that they’ve experienced a Blackbeard who was both younger than them and not nearly as threatening to be around. (It’s a good thing, Stede thinks.) Black Pete keeps the weird little carving that Young Ed had made him – no one has any clue what it was meant to be – and ignores the weird looks that current Ed gives him.

The biggest change is that Izzy's not wearing the ring around his neck anymore. He’s not even wearing the cravat, shirt hanging open at the neck to reveal a stripe of paler skin (and for the first few days, there’s a couple of obvious mouth-shaped bruises peeking out of the fabric.)

Instead of sitting far away from everyone during dinner and storytime like he normally does, he’s started tucking himself into the gap next to Fang. Even though he’s making dry little retorts like he does every day, there’s some nameless weight that’s disappeared from his shoulders, the constant resigned pain in his eyes taken from him.

Stede doesn't say a word when Ed's getting into bed one night and he spots the ring sitting on a chain around his neck, shining soft in the dim candlelight.

Notes:

Title Song: Memories - Panic! At The Disco

Genuinely horrified that I had to scroll through like 4 videos of 'House of Memories' before I found the right song. Damn you, Brendon Urie.

 

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