Chapter Text
Fang had called in sick and Ivan was on break, which was why Ed was behind the bar when Curls walked in. He wasn’t the kind of customer they usually saw in Blackbeard’s Bar, a dive that mostly attracted college students and drunks. Curls had a sort of dad chic vibe - crisp khakis and a soft blue button down - but his shoes and belt were snakeskin and all of a sudden it wasn’t just the curls that had Ed’s attention.
“What’ll it be?” he asked when Curls sat down.
“You know, I hadn’t thought that far. I don’t suppose you have any brandy?”
“Not really a brandy-type bar, mate.”
“Any bar is a brandy bar if there’s brandy inside of it.”
That startled a laugh out of Ed. “What’s your second choice?”
“Can you just, surprise me? No beer or vodka. Otherwise I’m all yours.”
Ed raised an eyebrow. Curls looked at him steadily.
He made an old fashioned with a splash of vermouth and maraschino cherries instead of an orange peel. He took his time. He wanted to make sure it was right for Curls. He looked like he liked fancy shit. Ed slid it across the bar.
Curls took a sip. “Mm. That is a damn fine old fashioned. What is that, vermouth?”
“Yep.”
“Normally it would be too sweet for me, but the bitters balance it out.”
“I’d like to try it with Cocchi and black cherries some day.”
“Why don’t you?”
Ed snorted. “Not really a black cherry-type bar, either.”
“Poppycock.”
“Did you actually just say fucking ‘poppycock?’”
“Is it the poppy or the cock you have issue with?”
Ed returned Curls’s grin and wondered again if he was flirting.
“This bar is highly rated on Yelp,” said Curls. “People say the service is excellent and the ambiance is very authentic. The owner could do whatever he wanted with it, in this area and with his current reputation.”
“Huh.”
“I’m sorry.” Curls took another sip. “I’m the last person to be giving business advice. I’ll leave you alone.”
There were other customers waiting for Ed’s attention. He left reluctantly and saw to them. By the time he was done Ivan was back from his break and Ed was able to sidle back up to Curls.
Point one: he was very hot. Point two: they had a good rapport. Point three: he was maybe flirting. Point four: Ed was really hoping he was.
“Another?” he asked.
Curls grimaced. “Maybe I shouldn’t.”
“Are you driving?”
“No. I live close enough to walk.”
“No pressure, but this one’s on me.”
Curls smiled. “How kind. Yes, alright. One more.” Ed obliged. Curls took a sip of the new drink. “Mm. What did you do differently?”
“Slightly different bitters, since you said you don’t like it so sweet.”
“Scrumptious.”
Point five: he talked like a lunatic and Ed didn’t know he was into that before half an hour ago.
“Listen,” he said. “I’m great at taking no for an answer. But I think you’re cute.”
Curls seemed startled. “Oh?”
“Yeah, I do. If you want some company tonight, I live upstairs. Or we could go to yours.”
Curls swirled his ice around in his drink. “I’ve never done that sort of thing before.”
“I’d love to be your first foray.”
“But,” Curls asked. “The hair. The tattoos. The beard. I don’t get it. Why me?”
“The curls. The style. The vocabulary. I can do this, too.”
“Hmm.” Curls took a sip. Then another. “Yes. Alright.”
“Can you wait an hour? That’s when the next bartender gets here.”
“Yes.”
“What’s your name, sailor?”
Curls grinned at him, but then the look faded into something wary. “Can we… not?”
“Not what?”
“Can we not do names. I’m not sure– I don’t want to get attached. I’m not looking for anything like that.”
“Same here. No names is sexy, I’m down.”
They snatched at conversation when the opportunity presented itself, but rush came a little early and Ed was diverted more than he wanted to be. He was just the tiniest bit afraid Curls would make a run for it. But his fears proved to be unfounded as he settled in with a book. Point six: he was not afraid to read a fucking romance novel in a college dive bar, even when some drunk sorority girls started heckling him. Somehow he turned it into a conversation about favorite types of erotica, and by the time the hour was up he had jotted down several recommendations.
“That was impressive,” Ed said as he shrugged into his jacket and walked out from behind the bar. “So, your place or mine?”
“Mine, if that’s alright.”
“You’re not going to murder me, are you?”
“Most murderers travel to do their dirty work.”
“That’s a real murderer-ish thing to know.”
Curls laughed. “I’m a true crime nerd.”
They chatted like this the whole short way back to Curls’s place. It was above that weird new coffeeshop that no one ever seemed to go to. It was called “Bonnet’s Playthings,” so maybe the problem was that everyone expected it to be a sex toy shop, and not a cafe.
Ed was feeling a bit anxious. Not about the hookup - he was nothing but pumped for that. But he thought maybe he already liked Curls a little too much. It was obnoxious how much of his type he was: feminine and silly, with a good air of mischief about him and a great sense of humor. And the banter was so easy - Ed couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a connection like this.
And then there was the apartment.
He couldn’t help a little gasp when Curls turned the lights on. There were colorful blobs of different shapes and sizes painted across the walls and ceiling. The art was also geometric and vibrant, and some of it was pretty homoerotic. There were books on every surface, stacked on the floor and sitting on tables. The whole thing was kind of a cluttered mess, with tea cups and knickknacks and appliances everywhere. Ed loved it.
“I’m sorry, I would have cleaned.” Curls began to bustle around, trying his best to tidy. “I know it’s a bit ridiculous–”
“Nah, nah. I like it. You’ve got cool taste. It’s weird, but it’s awesome. Where can I put my jacket?”
Curls took his jacket and hung it up on the hooks by the door while Ed went and sat on the couch.
“So…” Curls seemed a little bashful for the first time that night. “What next? Would you like a drink?”
“Got any brandy?”
“Oh, of course!”
Curls went over to his bar. It was a hideaway, painted a cheerful baby blue with red and yellow stripes. Ed knew bars, and as Curls opened it up, he was very impressed with what he saw.
“Is that a Brunello Riserva 2015?” Ed named an over one-hundred dollar bottle of Italian red wine.
“Yes! Would you like to change your order?”
“You don’t have to open it for me–”
“Don’t be silly.”
Curls opened the bottle deftly and poured out two glasses. A bit less for himself than for Ed. He handed Ed his glass and sat on the couch beside him. They clinked and drank.
“Fuck me,” said Ed. “That is good. Always wanted to go to Tuscany.”
“It’s extraordinary,” Curls said. “The sunflowers were my favorite part.”
“Not the wine? Or the food?”
“Of course, those things are outstanding. But good food and good alcohol are everywhere. Sunflowers - set against the hills and an Italian sunset? - that’s truly special.”
Ed swirled his wine around and stuck his nose in for a sniff. “Sunflowers, huh?”
Point seven: this man was dangerously fucking cute. It was time to stop getting further into the part of this night that would make him regret it later when he left. He drained the rest of the wine in a gulp, feeling bad about it but not enough not to take this step to protect himself. He put the wine glass down on the coffee table and leaned in for a kiss.
Curls returned it warmly, fumbling to put his wine glass down before taking Ed’s face in his hands. He placed his own hands on Curls’s thighs. The kissing was as easy as the chatting had been, languid at first but heating quickly. Curls was pressing on top of him after a while, and their hands were wandering freely.
“This beard is truly impeccable–”
“You should have seen me in my twenties, it was three times as long.”
“I would love to see that!”
Ed grinned before remembering that was not the sort of thing you did with a one night stand. He grabbed at Curls’s ass.
“What’s on the menu tonight?” he asked.
“Oh– I– I’m not prepared for–”
“Relax.” Ed reached up and pet Curls’s hair. Just a little. “I’m good with whatever. Even just this.” He kissed him, tongue less frantic this time. Point eight: he was a fucking good kisser. Goddammit. But they were definitely both hard, so Ed was hoping for a little more.
“I think any condoms I have are expired,” Curls said. “So maybe just…?” He palmed Ed through his pants.
Ed pushed upward. “Fuck yes. Bedroom?”
Curls got off him and took his hand while he led him to his room. Ed very carefully did not consider the hand-holding to be the most erotic part of this evening so far.
The bedroom was just as cluttered as the rest of the apartment. The walls were each a different color, and there was some even raunchier art on the walls.
“Wow, this is fucking awesome.” Ed was looking at one that was Matisse-inspired, featuring a lounging blue-toned man with slightly off proportions and no facial features, with a very pink dick in the middle of his legs.
“Good eye! It’s an original. The artist is very in demand in New York City now, I was lucky to discover him a few years before he made it big.”
“You’re a fancy little fruitcake, aren’t you?”
Curls grinned. “Takes one to know one.”
Ed sighed internally. Bantering was not fucking helping . He shucked off his shirt and pants as a distraction. From Curls’s expression, it was a good one.
“Your turn,” he said. “Unless you want me to do it for you?”
Curls blushed. “No, no. I can handle it.”
Ed got onto the bed (with satin sheets, this dude was truly a lunatic) and stretched out with his hands behind his head to watch the show. Curls very carefully hung everything up in his closet, which, considering there were books currently on the bed with him, Ed found amusing. Curls was wearing a pair of teal briefs, and his dick looked amazing in them. Ed swallowed down a “maybe next time, we can be more prepared” and patted the bed beside him.
“Let me just–” Curls grabbed the books on the bed and looked around for a place to put them. He gave up and dumped them on the floor. He got onto the bed with Ed and they faced each other for a beat. Then they came together, kissing and getting hard again. They were rubbing against each other and sparks were shooting up through Ed’s dick along his spine. Curls had his mouth on Ed’s neck now and it was making Ed pant. Curls broke away to trail kisses down his chest until he reached Ed’s nipples. He eyed the piercings and then looked up at Ed.
“Can I–”
“That’s what they’re there for, man.”
Ed arched into Curls’s mouth. He spent some time there, switching back and forth between each nipple, licking and sucking at first. Then he gave a tentative nibble.
“Fuck, yes–”
Curls grabbed the nipple ring between his teeth and tugged at it. Ed whined. His dick was aching and leaking when Curls was done with him.
“Underwear. Off. Now,” said Curls, with such authority it almost made Ed whine again. He hastened to obey.
“I was half-expecting another piercing.”
“Took it out when I turned forty.”
“But the nipple rings are still age appropriate?”
“You’re never too old for–”
Curls wrapped a hand around Ed and gave a tug. He swore. Curls swiped the precome around the slit of his dick and gave another tug.
“I feel a little underdressed–” Ed said, snaking a finger into the hem of Curls’s underwear.
“Take them off me,” said Curls. “Use your teeth.”
Point nine: holy shit.
Ed flipped him over onto his back and obliged, rubbing his face and beard along Curl’s dick as he went. Fuck. He would love to get his mouth around him someday. He finished taking Curls’s underwear off and scrambled back up to straddle him.
“What next?”
“Do you like it when I tell you what to do?” said Curls.
“Fucking– yes. It’s good.”
“You’re so pretty.” Curls brushed his hands slowly up Ed’s thighs. “Touch yourself for me.”
Ed hastened to obey.
“No,” said Curls. “Slower.”
Ed put on a show, one hand working himself, the other stroking up and down his belly and chest. Curls was staring at the proceedings intently, so Ed felt free to stare at Curls. He was just… he had called Ed pretty, but did he know what he looked like? Flushed beneath him, dick twitching, hands on Ed’s hips. His fingers kept squeezing into Ed’s flesh and it was driving him wild.
“Can I…” Ed skated his fingers along Curls’s balls and shaft.
“Together,” said Curls. “Jerk us both off together.”
Guys usually expected Ed to be the dominant one, even when he bottomed. Now this pretty little thing was bossing him around and Ed could not remember the last time he had enjoyed a hook up this much. And it wasn’t even over yet.
“Got any lube?” he asked.
“Yes. In the nightstand drawer.”
Ed leaned forward and down with more physical contact that was strictly necessary to grab the bottle. Curls put his mouth on his neck when he got close enough and sucked. Even though there was very little space between them, Ed tried to press his chest deeper against him.
Curls broke away from his neck. “On your side, so that we face each other.”
Ed slipped off of Curls who rolled so that they were looking into each other’s eyes. He couldn’t quite get a read on what the color was - hazel, maybe? Was it the blonde eyelashes that made it confusing? The slightly curved nose? The pert lower lip?
“Anything wrong?” Curls said, jolting Ed out of his thoughts. Ed kissed him rather than answer. He pulled back and uncapped the lube and poured some over his hand. Ed finished his task and capped the bottle and tossed it behind him. He looked back into Curls’s pretty eyes.
“Ready?”
Curls nodded. Ed wrapped a hand around both of them and slicked them up slow. Ed was struck with the very silly thought that their dicks looked nice together. The pink and brown tones were complimentary. Their pubes were both gray. He was a little longer where Curls was a little thicker. He shook his head to clear it and started to stroke.
The sounds he was getting out of Curls were incredible. High pitched, breathy little whines, biting his lip in between them with his eyes closed and fluttering. He was gripping at Ed’s bicep, and thrusting a bit in time to Ed’s touch. The slide of their dicks together felt unreal, and Ed was going as slow as he could to prolong it.
“Tighter,” said Curls. “Faster. Kiss me.”
Ed squeezed a bit more and picked up his pace. He leaned forward and Curls kissed him deep and dirty, hand sliding up onto Ed’s face. Then he reached around behind the back of his head and tugged at his hair. Ed moaned into his mouth. Curls thrust harder into his hand and pulled at his hair again. They were pressing against each other now, Ed’s hand slick against their stomachs as he pumped his hand even faster.
“I’m–” he said.
“Yes,” said Curls.
Their kissing got a little more sloppy and they were both gasping and he felt Curls pulse in his hand and then wrench out a sharp wail. The hot spill of him over his hand and between their bodies made Ed’s eyes roll into the back of his head and he followed Curls over the edge soon after.
Point ten: seriously, holy shit.
They breathed together for a bit, eyes closed and foreheads together. Then he felt Curls’s mouth against his, soft. It was too tender not to reciprocate. Curls’s hand was back on Ed’s cheek, and he stroked a thumb against it. They spent a long time trading soft kisses as they both went soft in Ed’s hand.
“Well.” Curls finally pulled back and smiled. “That was lovely. We should probably clean up.”
Curls got up and got a towel from his closet and wiped himself off before handing it to Ed.
“Do you want to take a shower, or something?” Curls said.
Ed hesitated. He could say yes. He could say “take a shower with me.” He might be able to spend the night here, spin it as a gateway to another session sometime later in the night. A lot of him was screaming to do that. But there was the bar. The whole reason he couldn’t say yes. He could hear in the back of his mind his exes screaming at him that it was his whole life and he didn’t have time for them. And a much quieter voice whispered: but it doesn’t have to be. The bar practically runs itself. You could just be honest with Curls.
“Nah, I got to get back to work, mate.”
“Oh?” Curls said. “Were you on break? I just assumed you were off for the night.”
“We’ve been going at it for like two hours. Who takes a two hour break?”
“Doesn’t Blackbeard give you two hours off per eight hour shift?”
“Uh. No.”
“Isn’t that the industry standard?”
“Uh. No?”
“Hmm.” Curls was frowning a little, a small V in the middle of his forehead where his eyebrows knitted together.
“Anyway,” Ed said. “I should get going.”
“Right,” said Curls. “Well. Goodbye then.”
Should Ed ask for his number? For a bit of a cuddle? At least for his name? They were practically neighbors. Maybe they’d just run into each other again someday.
“Bye.”
Ed hurried out the door before he could say something stupid. He was halfway down the block when he realized he had forgotten his jacket. He paused, considering. Curls knew where he worked. Maybe that was the chance he had for round number two in the future. He smiled to himself and kept walking back to the bar.