Chapter Text
Izzy looks through the contents of the bag on the counter, Stede peeking over his shoulder as he does. There are napkins, paper straws, garlands made of miniature flags, everything in rainbow colors. He gives a grateful nod to the girl who just brought it all down from the shelter’s storage room.
“Appreciate it, Lou. Cookies should be done in five, if you wanna stay. Peanut butter, no dairy.”
“Thanks but I should nap while he does.” She gently pats the tiny human strapped to her belly in a cotton sling. “See ya, Izzy. Bye, Stede.”
Izzy waves from behind the bar and looks to the side to find Stede positively gawking - whether at the girl’s shaved head, her numerous piercings or the softly mewling infant, Izzy can’t say. Bonnet may be “new to the scene” as he himself puts it, but that’s no reason to be fucking rude. Izzy nudges Stede in the ribs.
“Ouch! Christ, Izzy, there’s really no need-” Another nudge. “Yes, sorry. Goodbye, Lou. Thank you for the, um… decorations.”
The young woman saunters off with a smirk, bouncing her son up and down with one hand as she leaves.
Once she’s gone, Izzy slides the bag across the new stainless steel counter towards Stede.
“Make yourself useful and hang up the streamers. Don’t feel like getting the step stool out.”
To Izzy’s amazement, Stede obediently starts untangling a string of flags without even a single joke about Izzy’s height. Izzy is tempted to touch his forehead and check for a fever. Or call a priest, maybe.
They end up working wordlessly, side by side, Stede undoing some particularly stubborn knots, Izzy getting the cookies out and unloading the dishwasher. It’s not often that it’s just the two of them. Ed is good at casual conversations, at being fun and approachable. Izzy is not, which usually doesn’t matter because Bonnet is impossible to shut up. But today he seems… off. Izzy is out of teaspoons to polish and Stede still hasn’t said a fucking word. Small talk might be the bane of Izzy’s existence but the awkward silence is bordering on painful now. Desperate times, desperate measures. He takes a deep breath.
“So, any plans for June? I hate all that loud shit but you seem like a parade guy. Ed hasn’t gone in a while, he might want to come along…”
The look Stede shoots him is downright pitiful, even though he seems to have successfully untangled all of his little flags.
“I’m, uh… I’m not quite sure I’d feel very welcome at these events. I don’t…” Stede falters, looks down at his hands. Izzy furrows his brow in confusion.
“The fuck?” he asks with all the empathy he can muster. Bonnet starts twirling a rainbow straw between his fingers, still not looking up.
“It’s… stupid, probably.”
“Probably, yeah.” Izzy can’t help himself. But it makes Bonnet crack a sad little smile before he continues, the words finally tumbling out of him now.
“It just feels disingenuous, you know? Hypocritical, almost. I’ve never been an… an activist of any sort. I wasn’t even really sure I liked men until a year ago. It never felt like I was missing anything until one day I desperately was. And now to suddenly take to the streets, to insert myself into a community that has fought so hard for acceptance when I’ve had it laughably easy all my life…” He looks up then, eyes too shiny, and Izzy feels fucking helpless at the sight.
Try as he might, he can’t fathom what it must feel like, not knowing. He’d been in love with Ed before sprouting his first chest hair. And fuck no, it had never been easy, but they’d always had each other at least. Still, Izzy does his best to wrap his head around it, to find the right words to tell Bonnet he’s an idiot without making the situation worse.
“You’re an idiot,” he says, affectionately. It seems to startle Stede enough to keep him from bursting into actual tears. “It’s not a fucking competition. Not like there’s a minimum required amount of suffering before you can call yourself queer-”
“I’m not even sure I like that term…” Stede mumbles. Izzy sighs.
“Then don’t use it. Call yourself whatever you want. Go to the parade dressed in nothing but pink glitter or hang out here and help me with the fucking bookkeeping. Nobody cares. It’s fine.” Izzy shakes his head, frustrated at the hollow sound of it all. Ed would probably know exactly what to say, would have Bonnet giggling with a rainbow flag draped over his shoulders in no time. But Ed isn’t here, so Izzy does the only thing he can think of. He reaches out and gently grabs Stede by the chin to make him meet his eye, lets his other hand trail over a wine-red hickey on Stede’s neck.
“That was Ed.” Izzy’s fingers travel downward, coming to rest on a bruised bite mark above Stede’s collarbone. “That was me.” Lastly, he grabs Stede’s lapel between thumb and forefinger. “That’s a fucking Hawaiian shirt. You are a very gay man, Stede Bonnet. You belong here, no matter what anyone says.”
“That’s… incredibly heartwarming coming from you, Izzy.” Stede beams at him, eyes perhaps even wetter than before. Izzy shudders a little bit.
“Yeah, I know. Feel like I need a fucking shower.”
The door opens with a jingle, cutting the sappy moment blessedly short. Ever the human whirlwind, Ed crosses the room in three long strides before draping himself over the bar. He’s wearing the black baseball cap that was mysteriously missing from Izzy’s gym bag this morning, also dark sunglasses and a garish lavender bowling shirt that can only be Stede’s.
“Why the fuck are you dressed like that?” Izzy groans.
“Undercover mission,” Ed replies with a sly grin. “Saw that Roach and Frenchie were working today so I popped on over. They’re both ready to put in their notice as soon as we give them the go-ahead.”
“What do you mean, saw ?” Stede pipes up. He’s got his back turned to Ed, ostensibly arranging the new straws next to the coffee machine.
“Online scheduling system. Pretty sure Nigel doesn’t know how to delete old users. Iz always did that for him.” Ed chuckles, wicked, but it catches in his throat when Bonnet turns around. “Fuck, Stede, are you crying? Izzy, what did you do, why did you make Stede cry??”
“He didn’t, darling. He was actually quite helpful. Downright romantic, one might say.”
“Fuck off,” Izzy hisses, blushing. Ed stops trying to actually climb over the bar and goes back to slouching against it, agitation bleeding out of his posture again.
“Can’t wait to hear that story later.” Ed raises an eyebrow at Izzy, then is immediately distracted by the next, more interesting thought. “Oh! Stede! Did Iz tell you about the menu specials?”
“He did not!” Stede says at the same time as Izzy grumbles “Just an idea… ‘s not final. Silly, really…”
“Nah, mate, it’s fucking cute! Customers love that shit. Look!” Ed pulls a crumpled piece of paper out of his jeans pocket and smooths it out on the countertop for Stede to see. It’s Izzy’s turn to rearrange the straws in their cup as he feels the blood rush to his cheeks again.
“The Ed, ” Bonnet reads, “- large latte with cinnamon syrup and double serving of whipped cream. Oh, this is delightful!” He stretches over the counter to plant a kiss on Ed’s forehead before he continues. “The Izzy - just a normal fucking double espresso. Ha! Yes, very on brand,” Bonnet laughs, then makes a little choking noise. “The… the Stede?”
“Yeah. Go on,” Ed coaxes. Stede swallows audibly and Izzy starts polishing an already very clean spot next to the sink.
“The Stede - medium chai with hazelnut syrup and coconut wh-whip.” Stede’s voice breaks on the last word, he sniffs loudly.
“There,” Izzy says, turning to face Ed with what he hopes is an accusatory look. “Now you made him cry. Happy?”
“Yeah,” Ed grins, coming around the bar to wrap his arms around a now fully sobbing Stede. “Do I smell peanut butter cookies?”
“Izzy made some. I’ll go get them,” Stede mumbles wetly against Ed’s chest, then pulls away to walk to the oven, grabbing a rainbow napkin from the stack as he goes.
He returns with the plate of still-warm cookies and Ed descends on them like a bird of prey. When Stede leans over to snag one, Izzy notices the napkin, now neatly folded and tucked into his shirt like a pocket square. And Izzy doesn’t want to fucking smile about it, tries to hide the twitch of his lips behind a cookie of his own, but Stede - perceptive bastard - catches his eye all the same. He smiles back.