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One of the first things that Stede noticed about Edward Teach (aka Blackbeard, aka the man he loves, so on and et cetera) is that the man has a sweet tooth the size of the Caribbean.
Once they’re reunited and have gone through the complicated song and dance (worse than the quadrille, really) of apologizing and being upset and getting back together, Stede makes it his mission to give Ed as many sweet treats as he can stomach.
As it turns out, Ed can stomach quite a bit, and it’s starting to show- where there used to be the smallest push of pudge between the waistband of his leather pants and the bottom of his jacket, there’s now a distinct roll of fat.
Privately, Stede’s quite certain that very soon, Ed won’t be able to button those pants at all or get that jacket to zip. He can’t wait to see it. It’s a visual representation of how much Stede loves him, of how much Stede cares for him.
“I brought you a snack, love,” Stede tells Ed this morning. It’s been barely an hour since breakfast, where Ed had made an honest-to-God moaning sound of delight when he’d tasted a cream puff with strawberries, and Stede will be replaying that wanton noise in his head until the day he dies. Which truly, could be any day now with the kinds of sexual noises his boyfriend makes when he eats something he enjoys.
“Oh, nice, thanks, man,” Ed says, holding out a hand eagerly. Stede will never get sick of this- of feeding Ed, of watching the look of pure pleasure on his face when he tastes something new. He doesn’t even wait to find out what it is before he’s digging in, using his hands instead of a fork.
When they kiss, Ed still tastes like strawberry.
***
Another thing Stede has realized about Ed, especially now that he’s been paying so much attention to his eating habits, is that he seems to think that he has to maintain some kind of decorum around Stede.
Besides the few moans of pure delight he’s let out upon tasting some new pastry, Stede’s never heard Ed make any other noises while eating, save for a few hiccups and burps muffled into his sleeve or a napkin.
Stede decides to bring it up that night at dinner, when he notices Ed looking distinctly uncomfortable after his second large serving of jambalaya (a rather delectable dish from New Orleans Roach had whipped up), shifting in his chair like something’s bothering him, finally lifting his napkin to his mouth and hiding a small burp.
“You know,” Stede says, leaning over. “It’s okay to let it out, love. It’ll help settle your stomach after all that good food.” He smiles and pats Ed’s hand reassuringly.
Ed startles, almost dropping his fork. (The correct one for this course, for the record– Stede takes full credit for his tutelage.)
“It’s not polite,” Ed says, like it’s something he’s memorized. Stede doubts that Ed was taught this as a child, but suspects rather that he’s convinced himself that he has to behave properly at all times or Stede will run away. Well, they just can’t have that! Besides, it’s strangely titillating to think about the sounds that Ed might make when he’s eaten too much and he just can’t help it.
“What’s not polite?”
“Y’know. Belching .” Ed lowers his voice, flushing a little, and Stede could hardly love him more.
“On the contrary,” Stede assures him. “Actually, in many cultures, it’s very polite– shows you appreciated the meal.”
“Well, I fuckin’ loved the meal,” Ed says, and then lets out a long, low belch. Stede makes a soft noise of approval.
“Mm,” Stede continues, getting up and going around the table so that he can put his hands on Ed. Soon, Stede’s kneeling on the Oriental carpet underneath the dining table and his hands are fluttering around Ed’s middle, Ed’s purple undershirt ridden up to display tan skin.
“Belly’s a bit sore,” Ed allows, and Stede’s hands immediately settle, beginning soothing rubs.
“You ate so well,” Stede murmurs. “Love to see you enjoying yourself.”
“I’ve enjoyed myself a lot lately,” Ed murmurs, and Stede keeps soothing his stomach, finding the spots where it seems to be the most tender and pressing gently to relieve the tension.
“I know,” Stede says. “I can tell.” He can feel himself grinning like a fool in love, but he doesn’t care. He is a fool and he is in love and he doesn’t care who knows it.
“And you like it,” Ed says, turning his head to stifle a belch into his shoulder. His belly makes a gurgling sound as he shifts his weight, and Stede leans into it, presses into its curve until Ed belches again.
“There you go, love, that has to feel better.” Stede pats Ed on the belly, a bit like he’s a dog who deserves praise, and watching Ed blush is another of Stede’s favorite things. Stede truly has an enormous list of favorite things about Ed, and he knows that Lucius is getting tired of adding to the list but what else is a co-captain to do?
“Yes,” Stede says then. “Yes, I like it very much.” He climbs to his feet again, then leans over to give Ed a long kiss, and pulls back when he feels Ed smile against his lips.
“Good,” Ed says. “Because I like it, too.”
***
Ed is very good at eating- Stede makes sure to tell him that as often as he can. Which turns out to be fairly often. Now that Ed knows that Stede likes his belly, likes taking care of him after he’s eaten a bit too much, and especially likes to fuck after Ed’s glutted himself on a full meal and then dessert, Ed is Stede’s full-on co-conspirator.
“I think I want a bit more of that one,” Ed’s telling him now, leaning back into the sofa, legs spread a bit to accommodate his full stomach. He lazily points at the tray of macarons that they’d pilfered from a French vessel just this morning. Stede doesn’t even want to think about what it takes to bake a macaron at sea but he’s not going to dwell on it.
Right now, he has a hungry lover to feed, and Ed’s looking at him expectantly. Well, he’s likely not hungry at this point, but it’s still fun to pretend.
“Mm, good choice,” Stede says. “The cacao flavor of that one is delightful, isn’t it?”
“Mmph,” Ed murmurs around an entire macaron. Stede never would’ve expected to be so titillated by watching someone messily eat expensive desserts, but Edward Teach is showing Stede new things about himself every day.
“Lemme try another of that other one, too,” Ed says, beckoning for another macaron. There are crumbs in his beard, now long enough to catch them.
This time, instead of letting Ed feed himself, Stede holds it up to Ed’s lips and keeps eye contact as Ed puts the whole thing into his mouth, chews, and then swallows.
“Very good, love,” Stede praises him, and feels a warm glow in his chest when Ed smiles. Stede reaches out and brushes the crumbs off of Ed’s face, that warm glow growing to a dazzling sunburst as Ed turns his face to the side and kisses Stede’s hand.
“Are you ready for more?”
Ed nods, and opens his mouth.
“Ah, so you like the baby bird treatment, I see?”
“Fuck,” Ed says after he’s swallowed enough to speak. “You should know that, Stede, with how much I like to suck at your cock.” He waggles his eyebrows at Stede, who feels his cock twitch just thinking about it.
“Well,” Stede says, already holding up another macaron, raspberry-flavored this time, “as it happens, I seem to enjoy it as well.”
***
Once Ed’s figured out just how his overeating makes Stede’s pocket watch tick, so to say, he’s almost always busy hamming it up and blinking at Stede with his big doe eyes, telling him that he thinks he’s eaten too much.
Stede’s read a rather interesting little pamphlet by an American fellow named Franklin, something about a metal rod on top of a house, meant to gather lightning from the sky during a storm. That’s how Ed talking about eating too much and how it makes him feel makes Stede’s dick feel. Like there’s a strike of white hot lightning through it, making it stand straight up.
“Does your belly hurt?” Stede asks a question whose answer he’s already sure of, his dick already twitching in anticipation of the strike.
“Ate a bit too much,” Ed winces a little as his stomach makes a disgruntled noise and he hiccups, screwing his face up. “Just tasted so good .” He hiccups again, and his face smooths out a bit as Stede’s hand comes to rest on his belly, already working on soothing circular motions.
“Mm,” Ed sighs, and Stede tugs his shirt up for better access.
“You deserve to eat as much as you like,” Stede assures Ed. “And if what you like is enough to give you a tummyache, I’ll be here to minister to you and make you feel better.”
“S’kind of silly,” Ed mumbles then, as his belly gives a low grumble. “Eating myself stupid.”
“Oh, it’s not silly at all. You don’t even want to know ”-- at this Ed raises an eyebrow, and Stede momentarily stops rubbing his stomach– “or perhaps you do want to know, but in any case, you don’t even want to know what kinds of weird things most people are into. And this, my love, is hardly weird.”
“Eating until I’ve got a fuckin’ bellyache isn’t weird?”
Stede tugs Ed’s shirt up a bit more, giving him better access to the top of Ed’s belly. “No weirder than me enjoying watching you do it. So no, I don’t think so.” He leans down and gives Ed’s stomach a little kiss, then goes back to the belly rub. “And it makes sense.”
“You’ve got me all figured out, haven’t you?” Ed’s letting a little smile dance along the edges of his lips now, the way Stede’s sure he can jig a knife along his knuckles.
“I’m just saying that it makes sense, Ed. Being a pirate– until you met me, at least– doesn’t exactly mean you’ll know where your next meal’s coming from. It makes sense that you’d like eating too much. You’re just a predator, my dear. Like a lion, or a wolf.”
“Or a bear,” Ed adds. “Eating everything I can find and then taking a big nap.”
“Mm,” Stede says. “You deserve a nice big nap after all that. Sleeping off your big meal.” He presses into a tight spot until Ed lets out a belch, and then sighs.
“Just relax,” Stede says. “I do think a little rest is a good idea. And then, after you’ve digested, perhaps we can satisfy some other appetites ? If you catch my drift.”
“Caught like a fuckin’ fish on a hook.”
***
Ed’s driving Stede crazy. First of all, his clothes are starting to look obscene- the leather looks painted-on, and that’s early in the morning when it first goes on. Before Ed’s eaten anything, and certainly before he’s glutted himself on breakfast, lunch, dinner, and all of the snacks and nibbles in between.
Stede kind of wants to say something about it. He also kind of wants to hear someone else say something about it. Wants to hear them point out how Stede’s been fattening Ed up, been helping him put on some “relationship weight” .
Fairly soon, Stede has a plan to try and entice this into happening, through just a bit of fuckery.
***
“I just think it’d be a nice thing to do,” Stede says after he’s finished describing his idea to Ed, quickly adding, “for the crew.”
Ed pins him with a glance like Izzy had pinned him to the mast of the ship that one time. Just like that time, Ed’s glance sticks there.
“For the crew, eh? Not just because you want to watch your boyfriend gorge himself on fancy shit?”
Stede sniffs. “As I said, I think it’d be a good bonding exercise for everyone. We all deserve a nice meal together.”
“Mm.” Ed grins lazily, the smile spreading over his face like marmalade on a piece of freshly-baked bread. “I’m hungry already.”
***
Stede and Roach have a lot of fun planning for the crew dinner. Lucius and Pete go around and find out everyone’s favorite foods and even though several of them are simply butter , Stede figures they can work with that. They come up with a (quite reasonable, really!) menu of five courses, incorporating plenty of butter as well as some other elements from crewmembers’ favorites.
Stede’s most excited by the dessert, probably because Ed had immediately clocked the truest reason for the crew dinner, which is that Stede wants an unfettered excuse to watch Ed eat as much as he wants.
Not that Stede needs an excuse for that, because they do that plenty of the time in their quarters. It’s just– Stede wants to see what it’s like to watch Ed eat like that in front of others. To see if anyone else will say anything, or point it out. It feels sexy and anxiety-inducing all at once.
***
The evening of the crew dinner party, Stede dresses carefully in a color he knows Ed likes him in (a rather vibrant shade of violet) and goes to meet him in the dining room.
“You good, mate?” Ed touches his elbow before sitting down, and Stede can already feel himself blushing because he’s noticed that Ed has the buttons on his leather pants undone and they haven’t even begun the meal.
Stede swallows hard.
“So good,” he says. “I’m just– so very good, love.”
“Good,” Ed repeats, and Stede has to tear his eyes away from the way his waist creases when he sits now.
Ed knows exactly what he’s doing sitting across from Stede, and Stede’s plenty aware too, seeing as he’s the one who’d designed the seating chart.
By the time they’re getting into the fourth course, Stede’s regretting another seating chart choice, however, because Lucius has spent the majority of the last course watching Ed eat like he’s watching a horse race and he’s bet everything he’s got.
Lucius is too smart by half, so just as he’s been watching Ed eat, he’s been watching Stede get redder and redder until he finally says, “You all right, Captain? You look a bit… flushed .”
“It’s not hot in here,” Pete adds, leaning over from next to Lucius. “Might be a little chilly, even.”
Across the table, Ed belches loudly, and Stede feels his cheeks catch on fire.
“I’m”-- Stede momentarily loses the capacity for words, catching Ed’s devilish grin from across the table– “fine. I’m… very. Fine.”
“You look it,” Lucius notes.
“Can you pass the bread?” Ed asks. “Need a little something to tide me over to the next course.”
***
Stede’s planned a small break before the dessert course, which will be served on the main deck so they can all enjoy the sunset over the ocean. He lingers in the hallway to wait for Ed, and is treated to watching his boyfriend lever himself up from the table.
Stede corners him as he’s making his way into the hallway, maybe a little harder than he’d meant to, except that Ed is driving him crazy.
Stede tells him as much: “Edward Teach,” he murmurs against Ed’s lips. “You are going to be the death of me.”
Ed just grins and pushes back against Stede so that Stede can feel the curve of his belly.
“We’ve had that dynamic going since we met, haven’t we?” Ed pauses to turn his head and stifle another belch into his shoulder, and Stede shudders against him, his hand slipping a little bit on the wall where he’s got Ed pinned. “That ‘who’s gonna kill who’ thing, I mean.”
Stede swallows audibly, and then Ed kisses him again, hard, before he weasels out from underneath Stede’s arms. He lets out a little groan, then winks at Stede.
“Gotta make sure I have room for dessert.”
***
Stede has to allow himself a moment or two before he’s ready to head up above deck– he even goes to his quarters’ washroom to splash some cool water on his face.
By the time he arrives, Ed’s sitting in a way that Stede just knows is meant to make him want to rush him off back down to their cabin immediately. He’s got his legs spread out to accommodate his full stomach, and it’s clear that he’s had to loosen his leather jacket, wearing it open over his purple undershirt, which isn’t having a very easy time in covering his stomach.
That’s if the point of the shirt is to cover , which Stede is pretty sure it no longer is.
“Stede!” Ed calls out his name like a toast, and Stede’s breath catches in his throat for a moment. Sometimes the love he has for Ed overtakes him like a tidal wave, the kind of water Stede would happily drown in.
That, and the love he has for their crew- this ragtag bunch who echo Ed’s quasi-toast, their faces lit by the setting sun.
Stede’s heard this time of day called the “golden hour,” and he can’t help but agree- it’s better than any buried treasure could ever hope to be.
Especially when he gets to watch Ed in this light, Ed with his hair down around his face, Ed continuing to fork dessert into his mouth until his plate is practically licked clean, and then again.
“Never been so full before, Bonnet,” Ed drawls out once he’s finished his second dessert, keenly keeping an eye on Stede’s face, steadily growing more and more pink. “It seems like your crew feast was a success.” A burp seems to take him by surprise and he covers his mouth belatedly. “Pardon.”
There’s a scattering of short claps from the crew and Stede might actually burst into flame and take the whole ship down with him, just like he’d done with the passive aggression .
“Well,” Stede starts, “‘Crew feast’ rather makes it sound like we were participating in cannibalism, yeeuch. It was a crew dinner , and I don’t think it’ll be the last.” He stands and claps his own hands together once. “Now, everyone to your post-dinner leisure activities!”
It’s not like he doesn’t know a good majority of them are going off to fuck, just like he and Ed are– distracted as he’d been by Ed’s indulgence, Stede hadn’t missed the way Jim had their hands all over Oluwande near the end of the dinner, or the knowing glances Black Pete and Lucius had been exchanging.
***
“You’re incorrigible,” Stede tells him once they’re back in the cabin and Ed’s sitting on the edge of their bed. “You enjoy embarrassing me in front of everyone.”
“Pretty sure you enjoy it too, mate. Or at least your cock does.” Ed leans forward to palm at Stede’s crotch, then lets out a truly wanton sound as the movement puts pressure on his swollen stomach.
“Fuck,” Stede growls, and Ed leans back again, in a way that thrusts his belly towards Stede, kind of like when he’d begged Stede to run him through.
“Can’t handle you,” Stede says, his voice still low and gravely, the scrape of two ships not passing in the night but rather rutting up against each other.
“Sure you can,” Ed says, hiccupping. “Handle this.” He pats the top of his belly.
“There’s getting to be more to handle here,” Stede says, palming Ed’s stomach with something like reverence.
“This?” Ed asks. “Oh, this is all bloat.” It’s another way he likes to tease Stede about their recent exploits.
“Oh, I’m not so sure about that,” Stede murmurs, pressing his fingers in and making Ed let out a groan. “I rather think you’re starting to get plump, darling. It’s adorable.” He presses in again and Ed burps, looking petulant.
“M’not adorable,” he protests. “I’m Blackbeard.”
“And Blackbeard is adorable,” Stede says, as if that settles it. “Especially all sweet and sated. Stuffed, even.”
“M’not stuffed,” Ed says back. “Not yet.” He thumps his belly. “I still have room.”
“Do you really?”
“Mm-hmm,” he says, and stretches his arms up over his head so that the purple shirt rides up even more.
“Well, then get yourself comfortable,” Stede says. “Because I have one last treat for you, love. I know you can’t resist your sweets.”
The slow, languorous way Ed moves to sit propped up against pillows and the headboard says a lot about how much room he might really have.
Stede takes his time getting the final dessert ready, just to give Ed a bit of time to digest, although to what purpose Stede’s not sure, since he’s about to eat even more anyway. But he wants Ed to feel comfortable, to sink into his fullness like relaxing into a warm bath.
That’s part of this for Stede- making sure that Ed feels good, that he’s enjoying himself. That he’s getting everything he wants.
Another part of it? The completely trusting way Ed looks up at him, the way he opens his mouth even though he’s so full it’s obvious, like he’s doing now as Stede climbs up on the bed with the little plate of dessert. Ed’s lips are parted to allow Stede to ease in a messy bite of some kind of blueberry custard tart, and he moans around Stede’s fingers.
Stede shudders a bit, the sound going straight to his cock. It’s clear just how much this turns him on, given that he’d taken the opportunity to divest himself of his trousers, approaching the bed in just a shirt and his underwear. He knows he’s not going to want to wait to get undressed.
***
“There’s a good lad,” Stede says when the pastry is all gone and Ed’s licking crumbs off of Stede’s fingers. “You’ve done so very well. Eaten everything you wanted.”
Ed hiccups once and Stede pats his belly gently. He hiccups again and Stede tuts.
“You’re not too full to let me take care of you, are you?”
Ed shakes his head, his hips bucking weakly.
“Please, Stede.”
“Good,” Stede tells him. “So good. So polite.”
“I want you, Stede,” Ed says then, and Stede never imagined anyone saying those words in that order to him ever before. Certainly not Mary, with whom he’d shared strictly marital, procreational sex that had always ended up with them sleeping with their backs to one another.
“You want so very much, don’t you, my love? So much dessert…” Stede trails his fingers along Ed’s belly, pushing the shirt up further. Then he dips his hand lower, feeling Ed’s cock through his undergarments and the gap of his leather pants where they won’t fasten anymore.
“Fuck,” Ed keens, and Stede tugs a bit on the waistband of the leathers.
“Going to need some help, sweet,” Stede tells him, and enjoys the flush that dusts Ed’s cheeks at being called that particular pet name. Ed obligingly lifts his hips a bit to assist Stede in getting the leather pants down, but pants in exhausted fullness once they’re partway down his thighs. He lets out a rumbling belch and then groans.
“Just stop right there, Stede, love, that’s far enough. Need you now.”
That’s enough for Stede to let out a groan of his own– and then he’s coming, coming so hard and fast that it takes him like a knife to the throat.
It happens so quickly that Ed doesn’t even notice, so turned on himself, his eyes fluttered shut, leaned back with his belly out, waiting for Stede to tend to him.
“Wait, what about you?” Ed asks after it’s been a moment without Stede touching him, because he’s always concerned about Stede, even when it’s his own turn. He cracks an eye open, then another, and peers at Stede curiously.
“Well,” Stede says, and he’s glad that only Ed can see him now because otherwise he’s sure his face would be a beacon brighter than any lighthouse, “that ship has already sailed, so to speak.”
“No,” Ed breathes, then laughs, pressing a hand to his side when it makes him wince with fullness. “You didn’t.”
“I’m afraid I did,” Stede admits, and yes, there is a rather incriminating wet spot on his smallclothes, but who gives a fuck? He’s fucking Blackbeard, and Blackbeard– Ed, his Ed– looks– well, fuck. He looks nearly fat, from this angle.
“C’mon,” Ed whines then. “I need you.”
There’s something about that, too- Ed so casually saying it, that he needs Stede. When Stede had met Ed, Ed had barely allowed himself the comfort of a scrap of red silk, and now he’s openly asking for belly rubs and a blowjob.
Well. Stede doesn’t need to be asked twice.
*****