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The room is purple, golden, white.
Pitch black.
Ed can barely hear the fireworks over the rush of blood inside his head, over the crazy drumming of his frantic heart.
He knows Izzy is singing, and he’s never heard Izzy sing before, but it also fades in the background as Stede closes the drapes of the bed nook and encloses them in a dream.
For a terrifying second, Ed sees himself all alone in that same bed, knees drawn to his chin, sobbing in despair, and it feels like ages ago and also like it’s happening right now. When the boom of fireworks startles him out of his thoughts, Ed falls head first into the reality of half naked Stede right in front of him, ready and willing and blushing and gorgeous and all the things Ed wanted—craved—for so long.
Now that he’s got it, Ed’s not quite sure what to do with it, like a rich whim-prone man who just built himself a pirate ship and thinks that stealing potted plants is actual piracy.
Well, it seemed to have worked out for Stede, haven’t it? He’s an accomplished pirate now, a thief and a killer, about to bed the infamous Blackbeard.
Jesus.
Stede touches his face and Ed shivers like a virgin. It doesn’t calm him, but some of his racing thoughts take the backseat, along with the rest of this ship, the whole fucking ocean, the world. Ed bites his lower lip and when Stede kisses him again, Ed melts into it, bones going liquid.
Molten lava.
“Do you want this,” Stede asks, and Ed has never wanted anything more in his life, would die for it, has been dying for months. Shit, has died already, and came back just because the Stede that lives in his head fished him from the depths of the undead sea with an impossible mermaid’s tail and a smile.
Ed breathes and it feels like being underwater all over again, but maybe Stede can save him one more time, extract him from the muddy waters of himself. Maybe Stede is hook, line and bait in the form of a blond burly man, with strong arms and tiny little pink nipples. Fucking hell.
So after a beat Ed whispers yes, nods, licks his lips. “Please,” he adds, but he thinks Stede doesn’t hear it, because he’s just started kicking his boots, unfastening his breeches.
The hair between Stede’s legs is ginger, Ed can see it clearly when a white flash illuminates the room. He’s very hard already, and Ed has to close his eyes for a moment, overcome.
This is happening. This is happening. This is happening.
It’s happening way too fast, but it feels like a miracle that it’s happening at all, so Ed opens his eyes and meets Stede’s as another white flash flares around them. The hazel in his eyes has turned dark and astonished, as if Stede also cannot believe this is actually happening.
So Stede approaches the bed slowly, treating Ed as a jittery little bug he’s afraid he might scare away, and tentatively grabs the fabric of Ed’s old shirt, helping Ed to stand.
Ed exhales then keeps still, allows Stede to undress him, both of them in solemn silence. Stede finally takes his time, the rushed panic turning into this meticulous awe as he peels Ed’s layers off like a decadent candy, his ginger cock rock hard the entire time.
“You’re so beautiful,” Stede says quietly. He kneels in front of Ed, eyes glued to Ed’s prick. “I’ve never done this before.”
Ed caresses Stede’s jaw, his lips, but doesn’t say anything; which is so weird cause he’s always talking, can never be quiet, but he doesn’t find the words now. Stede glows in purple, in green, and when the room is dark and silent again he holds Ed’s cock and puts it in his mouth.
It’s clumsy, but it’s so warm and wet and eager that Ed forgives the lack of expertise, in fact forgets it, until Stede gags and coughs, laughs, and distinctly doesn’t excuse himself.
Stede rises from the floor instead, and kisses Ed again, chasing his tongue, holding Ed’s head in place with both hands. He presses his body flushed to Ed’s, grinds their hips together, and Ed fears he might come immediately when their cocks touch.
Stede makes him lie on the bed, on his back. He climbs on top of Ed and comes down for a kiss. When they part, Ed is breathless, heart freaking out again inside his ribcage, and again the nagging feeling that this is going too fast and that he should do something about it, and not just lay there like a naive bride waiting to be deflowered, even though he’s had way too many bleak sessions of lukewarm jerking off just picturing this exact same scenario.
“You want this?” Stede asks again, and he’s breathless too, a little unsure, and he’s beautiful and perfect, and his cock is hard against Ed’s hip, and his lips are so close to Ed’s they’re sharing the same air, so how can Ed say anything but yes, a thousand times yes, you make me so happy, find me a cool name, meet me at the dock, love me, love me, love me.
But Ed only says one yes, then he says please again. Stede kisses him, and this time the kiss finally takes the sense, any sense, out of Ed, and he moans. Stede licks Ed’s jaw, kisses his neck, bites Ed’s earlobe until he moans again, louder, and Stede has to say shhhhh, as if they might be heard over all the singing and fireworks and cannonballs and heartbeats.
Stede sits on his heels and spreads Ed’s legs apart. Ed watches as he takes a deep breath and spits on his hand, coats his cock with saliva, spits again and smears it around Ed’s arsehole. Ed wants to ask how does he know what to do, if he’s read about it in a book somewhere, but he doesn’t say anything, just waits for Stede’s next move.
When he pushes a finger in, just the tip, Ed whimpers and grips the sheets.
“Fuck, Ed, you’re so tight,” Stede murmurs.
“Go slowly,” Ed says, surprised with the sudden return of his ability to form sentences.
“Of course,” Stede answers, and he indeed goes slow. It takes him a moment to get the angle right, but when he does, Ed surrenders completely. Stede’s cock sears his way inside Ed’s body, stretching him in a sultry pace, the burn turning into euphoric pleasure as Stede fills him up all the way to the hilt.
Stede moans too, curses under his breath, and when Ed combs his fingers through Stede’s hair, golden strands damp with sweat, Stede swallows a sob.
“I’ve never felt anything like this,” Stede manages to say in a strangled voice, and Ed enjoys too much how every word seemed to have been wrung out of Stede, as if it hurt him to say them.
But then Stede is moving, and not much later he’s thrusting in earnest, the rocking of his hips pushing Ed’s body up and down, eliciting the most embarrassing little noises from Ed’s throat. Ed hooks his legs around Stede’s waist, and snakes his hand between their bodies to touch himself.
Ed no longer thinks this is happening too fast: he wants it to go faster, deeper, harder, and he urges Stede to give him that. He moans, he begs for Stede to take him, to make him come, and something snaps inside Stede. He bats Ed’s hand away and closes his own fist around Ed’s cock, strokes it with furious desire, slamming his cock inside Ed with the frenzy of a man half his age.
It’s violent, it's reckless and insane, until it becomes white hot bliss as Ed explodes in Stede’s hand, spilling semen and bursting into tears at the same time, emptying himself dry in Stede’s arms, Stede’s cock the only thing tethering him to this world.
And Stede doesn’t stop, he keeps pumping Ed’s prick while fucking him with unexpected strength, saying Ed’s name over and over again. It’s too much, it’s so good it becomes unbearable and Ed cries, afraid he might lose his mind yet unable and unwilling to ask Stede to stop, and then suddenly certain that this should be the cause of his death.
Here lies Edward Teach, formerly known as Blackbeard, fucked to death by the Gentleman Pirate.
It goes on and on until Stede’s own pleasure overtakes him and he goes as deep as possible and stays there, grinding into Ed, his cock twitching inside Ed, until his seed spreads wet and warm within Ed’s body. It dribbles out of Edward, thick and profuse when Stede finally pulls out, only to collapse on top of Ed, drenched with sweat, panting.
Sleep falls over Ed heavier than Stede’s body, and he barely acknowledges when Stede kisses him and maneuvers them so they can lie facing each other on the narrow mattress. His limbs hurt, his hole hurt, but it’s a good feeling. It’s the welcome pain of satisfied exhaustion.
When Ed wakes up, mind blissfully quiet, he goes straight to the jar of marmalade, craving something sweet.