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Of all the compromising positions Izzy has gotten himself into over the years, being seated at Bonnet’s breakfast table is among his least favorites. Bonnet sets a plate in front of him and he sighs, side-eyeing Ed. It’s not that he dislikes Bonnet—he’s made his peace, perhaps even found a part of him unwittingly fond of the man—it’s the principle of the thing. The little mound of marmalade on his plate laughs at him.
“Pirates don’t eat like this,” he grumbles, petulant only to the degree that he knows will earn him a huff from Bonnet and a smirk from Ed. “This is pathetic.”
“These pirates do, Israel, and you will be respectful of your captain.”
“My captain didn’t put this plate in front of me,” Izzy bites back, though even he can hear there’s no heat behind his words. Ed snorts.
“Fuck off and eat your breakfast, Iz,” Ed tells him. Bonnet grins at him from across the table, something saccharine and infuriating, and Izzy rolls his eyes. He’s suddenly hit with the childish urge to stick his tongue out and spit at Bonnet. Instead, he tears his scone in half, smearing it through the marmalade. Goddamn Stede Bonnet.
The two captains fall into a soft-spoken conversation and Izzy finishes his breakfast, sitting back in his chair and leaning his head against the high back of it. He lets himself drift, their combined voices washing over him. His ever-constant lack of sleep sits heavy behind his eyes, a low buzz at the back of his mind.
“Iz, are you listening?”
Izzy blinks, his eyes focusing on Ed. “Sorry, what?”
The corner of Ed’s mouth turns down. “You alright, mate? Seem a bit out of it.”
With a shrug, Izzy straightens up. “Just tired, s’all. Sorry.”
“Israel, I wish you would let yourself get more sleep,” Bonnet says disapprovingly. “You would feel much better overall, I think.”
“I’m fine, Bonnet. I’ve been working with five hours or less for longer than you’ve known how to sail—I’m good.” Bonnet frowns and Izzy rolls his eyes, turning to Ed. He finds Ed already frowning, his brow creased, and Izzy sits up as straight as he can. “What were you saying, boss?”
“Nah, mate, I’m with Stede. I think you need to relax,” Ed says, leaning forward and resting his forearms on the edge of the table. “It’s wearing on you, man.”
“Ed, this isn’t—”
“Do you want me to help?” Ed cuts Izzy off, and Izzy falls silent, blinking at Ed. He tenses, chewing on the inside of his cheek. Ed raises his eyebrows.
Stede looks between the two of them before speaking. “What—”
Ed spares him a momentary glance, fixing his gaze almost immediately back on Izzy. “Well?’
Shifting in his seat, Izzy glances between the two captains. He swallows hard. “I’m fine, Edward. I will get more sleep.”
Stede drums his fingertips against the tabletop, his gaze burning through Izzy. He stays quiet, though Izzy has a feeling that he and Ed are having one of their increasingly frequent silent conversations. He breathes in slowly through his nose, his skin buzzing. The room around him suddenly feels very small.
“Iz,” Ed says quietly. “Look at me.” Izzy does, meeting Ed’s gaze and squaring his shoulders. He isn’t scared of Ed. “Do you need me to help you relax?” Izzy glances at Stede again before he means to, his body betraying him. “Don’t look at Stede, look at me. This is the last time I’m going to ask you. Do you need help?”
“I—” Izzy swallows again. “Yes.”
He grits his teeth, looking back down at his hands in his lap and pointedly ignoring Bonnet’s presence in the room at all. Bonnet, for his credit, remains silent, as if he’s waiting to see how this is going to play out. Probably enjoying the spectacle of Izzy being handled, as it is. Izzy inhales slowly through his nose, willing his pulse to calm down. The seconds draw out in the silent room, every breath echoing in Izzy’s ears. He finds himself glad—for a moment, at least—that whatever conversation he knows the two captains must be silently having is not in fact happening out loud.
The silence begins to drag on, muffling Izzy’s ears. He can hear his pulse, feel the burn of shame climbing up the back of his neck as it drags on. His nails bite into his palms, undoubtedly leaving half-moon marks in the calloused skin. Frowning at his lap, he nearly jumps out of skin when Ed speaks from where he’s suddenly standing directly next to Izzy.
“Can you make yourself busy today? Stede picked up this lovely length of silk rope at one of the last stops, I just have to find it.” Izzy flicks his gaze up to Bonnet, who he finds gazing right back at him, face carefully blank. “Izzy?” He looks back to his lap and gives a sharp nod. “Alright. Come back after dinner.”
“Yes, Captain,” Izzy growls, before standing. As he turns to head for the door, his eyes find Bonnet’s once more, and there’s a sharp spike of heat that shoots up his spine at the unveiled interest he sees there. He forces himself to look away, rolling his eyes. He does not want to fuck Stede Bonnet.
Izzy spends most of the day trying not to murder any one of Bonnet’s exceedingly useless crew. (They aren’t useless. They’re continuously less useless by the day.) He does just fine—incredibly well, even—up until he finds Lucius goddamn Spriggs taking it up the ass on a pile of sails he was supposed to be mending instead of, well, mending.
“You have got to be fucking kidding,” is the first thing out of his mouth when he walks in. “You all have shit to be doing right now—are any of you real pirates?” He glares at Fang, whose face turns a deep, mottled red. “You know better than this, you absolute fucking imbeciles, I swear to god—”
“Izzy.” Ed’s voice isn’t loud. It’s hardly raised at all, in fact, and yet it echoes around the room as if he had used every bit of air in his lungs for the single word. “My cabin. Now.”
Izzy turns slowly, finding Ed in the doorway, flanked by Bonnet. Ed’s face is carefully blank, but Bonnet’s is stormy. He’s closed-off and angry looking—an expression Izzy has not seen in quite some time. Izzy swallows. Ed and Bonnet both step aside as Izzy crosses toward them. He opens his mouth, but Ed shakes his head. His expression hasn’t changed. Lowering his gaze, tail tucked between his legs, Izzy makes his way to the captain’s cabin as quickly as he can, avoiding all of the crew as best he can.
He freezes in the middle of the room. Typically, in the past, Ed had always expected him to kneel and wait for him on his knees. He would wait until Izzy was shaking with both the effort of holding himself up on his knees and the anxiety of waiting for Ed to appear—he would wait until his first touch would send Izzy dizzy and light-headed. But now, here, this was unknown territory. This is new. Now there’s Bonnet somewhere on the ship to worry about, to consider. His presence changes everything. It changes the dynamic in a way that Izzy can’t predict and has no control over. Even if Bonnet isn’t in the room with them, he’ll still be there somehow, his presence everywhere at once. It changes things.
“Is this your way of telling me you forgot how this goes?” Ed’s voice comes from the doorway and Izzy startles, whipping around and straightening his spine. “I thought you knew better.”
“Sorry, Captain,” Izzy says, clearing his throat. He shifts his stance, gaze sliding to the floor. Ed’s gaze is heavy and Izzy’s cheeks heat up. “I wasn’t sure if—”
“You know how this goes, Iz,” Ed tells him, sounding vaguely disinterested. “Do better.”
“Yes, Captain.” Izzy strips, quick and efficient. He folds his clothing, setting it aside and sinking to his knees. Ed cards his fingers through Izzy’s hair and Izzy allows himself to lean into the touch. Ed’s nails drag along his scalp and he sighs. The warmth of Ed’s skin through his leathers heats the side of Izzy’s torso where he leans against Ed. It’s warm and familiar, the weight of Ed’s hand on Izzy’s head and the line of his thigh pressing against Izzy’s body and Ed’s presence commanding Izzy’s attention. He lets himself focus on being grounded in all of these things.
Izzy isn’t sure how much time passes, only that it does. Eventually, without a word, Ed’s grip tightens in his hair and guides him to his feet. He grips Izzy’s jaw and tilts his face up, forcing eye contact. He searches over Izzy’s face and Izzy holds perfectly still, waiting to hear if Ed finds whatever it is that Ed is looking for. Ed leans forward and presses a single, firm, chaste kiss to Izzy’s mouth. He bites down firmly on Izzy’s lower lip and Izzy’s knees shake under him.
From somewhere behind Izzy, Ed produces a significant length of crimson rope, silken to the touch. He drapes it over Izzy’s shoulders, securing a knot at the front of Izzy’s throat. It isn’t tight, he could slide the whole flat of his hand between Izzy’s throat and the rope if he wanted to. Izzy swallows, the rope brushing against his throat with the movement. Ed continues to move down Izzy’s torso, wrapping and knotting and tying off the rope into an intricate pattern. He loops the rope between Izzy’s legs, guiding it to cup the side of Izzy’s ass, cutting into the soft skin between his cunt and the tops of his thighs, and Izzy sucks a breath in through his teeth. Ed taps his cock with two fingers and Izzy jerks, the rope still in Ed’s hand pulling taut and cutting into his skin.
Moving behind him, Ed pulls Izzy’s wrists with him. With the remainder of the—apparently excessively long—rope, Ed ties Izzy’s wrists to the rope criss crossing over his lower back. Izzy tugs at the bindings, just enough to test them. They don’t budge.
“I’m going to blindfold you,” Ed says into Izzy’s ear, smoothing his hands up Izzy’s arms. Izzy’s bound hands rest crotch-height as Ed presses against him, and Izzy leans back into him, his bound hands cupping Ed through his leathers. Ed wraps his own hands lightly around Izzy’s throat, fingering over the knot at the front of Izzy’s throat. “But you’re standing a bit too sturdy for me, mate.”
Izzy swallows, Ed’s hands squeezing lightly at his throat before trailing down his chest and over his nipples. He twists both pierced nipples at once, shocking a gasp from Izzy’s mouth. He leans his head down from Izzy’s ear and sinks his teeth into the sensitive skin behind Izzy’s ear. The sudden onslaught of sensation has Izzy sinking into Ed, allowing the taller man to take almost his full bodyweight. Ed continues to manipulate Izzy’s nipples, fingering over the barbells he had put there years prior, sliding them forward and back and twisting them cruelly in time with each new nip to Izzy’s throat. Izzy’s ears fill with the sound of his own high-pitched keening, Ed’s low chuckle reverberating through his torso where Ed holds them pressed against one another.
A knee works its way between Izzy’s thighs, forcing him to widen his stance as Ed finally releases his nipples, trailing his hands lower. One hand settles on Izzy’s hip, tugging him backward so that his ass almost rocks against Ed’s crotch, only held away from it by his own bound wrists. Ed ghosts a finger over Izzy’s cock, sliding further between his legs to gather some of his own slick before zero back in where Izzy is most sensitive. He gets two fingers around Izzy’s cock, squeezing and tugging in short strokes, and Izzy’s entire body shakes. He falls back onto Ed’s thigh, bracing himself with his hands as Ed’s free arm around his torso supports the remainder of his weight. Ed’s fingers over his cock make a slick sound, echoing around the room, and a whine builds quickly in Izzy’s throat, escaping through no permission of his own.
“You sound so pretty for me, Iz,” Ed breathes into his ear. “You’re so pretty like this.” Izzy wouldn’t have a response to that even if all of his senses weren’t currently overwhelmed. He shakes in Ed’s grasp, his body tensing up, low heat building in his stomach and pelvis, the blood in his legs turning to liquid fire. Ed tsk s against his ear. “Not until I say.”
He withdraws his hand, leaving Izzy to catch his breath. He slumps, sitting against Ed’s thigh, sliding down toward Ed’s knee from the sheer amount of slick built up between his legs. Ed gives him a few moments to breathe before he lifts him back to his feet. On decidedly shaky legs, Ed holds Izzy at his waist until Izzy’s secure enough to stand on his own, and then he moves away. Red fabric comes down over Izzy’s eyes obscuring his vision into red-tinged darkness, and there’s a light pressure as Ed knots it at the back of Izzy’s head.
“Can you see anything?” He asks Izzy, trailing a hand over his waist again. Izzy shakes his head. “Good. Tell me immediately if that changes.”
“Yes, Captain,” Izzy murmurs. His head feels slightly fuzzy as Ed places a hand on either shoulder and begins to lead Izzy in one direction. They move slowly, but there’s no stumbling or any obstacles they encounter, until Izzy’s knees bump the mattress of the bed. He scoffs. “Going to fuck me in your marital bed, Captain?”
Ed swats at his ass, the sharp crack of it echoing around the room and Izzy jolts at the sudden shock of pain. “Is that what you call behaving, Izzy? I’m disappointed.”
Ice travels down Izzy’s spine and he finds himself straightening up, squaring his shoulders. “No, Captain. Sorry, Captain.”
Ed leans in close, speaking directly into Izzy’s ear once again, his fingertips digging into Izzy’s hips as if he’s aiming to leave bruises—and he probably is. “I expect you to behave. That includes controlling your fucking tongue unless you want me to gag you as well.”
Not something Izzy really finds himself opposed to, but if it isn’t something that strikes Ed’s fancy, he certainly doesn’t want it. “Sorry, Captain,” he repeats.
Ed stays silent for a long moment behind him and Izzy shifts uncomfortably. He knows that logically, Ed must not be that upset with him. Angry Ed would have reacted much more physically. He still jumps at the hand on the back of his neck. A soft touch, handling him far more gently than he had expected, and Ed is pulling him back flush against him once more. The hand wraps around to the front of his throat—no pressure, just resting there—as he tips Izzy’s head back and lets his lips brush against Izzy’s ear.
“Behave, Izzy,” he murmurs, his voice low. Dangerous. “Don’t force my hand, here.”
“Yes, Captain,” Izzy replies. “Sorry, Captain.” The hand squeezes once before releasing and then Ed bends Izzy forward, pressing his face into the mattress. He kicks his feet apart, the ropes beneath Izzy’s ass cutting sharply into the meat of his thighs.
“Are you going to count for me, Izzy?”
“Thought you weren’t using your hand.”
“I’ll take that as a no.” The first blow lands smack in the center of the right side of Izzy’s ass, sending him rocking up the bed with the force. Ed hooks a finger into Izzy’s bound wrists and tugs them as far up his back as they’ll go, exposing more of the sensitive skin. “I guess we’ll just go til I think you’re done, then.”
Izzy doesn’t get a chance to respond before the second blow falls, and then the third, and then the fourth. Ed is careful not to strike the exact same spot twice in a row with his initial blows, instead littering them all over Izzy’s ass and upper thighs. Between the sensation of Ed’s hand landing repeatedly and the rubbing of the ropes, Izzy quickly finds himself straddling the edge once more, desperate for the touch that would send him over. He can’t imagine what he looks like to Ed right now: bound and blindfolded, bent in half over Bonnet’s incomprehensibly plush mattress, so wet that he’s likely dripping down his thighs. He wonders if the red of the rope has darkened in color where it’s looped between his legs. If the evidence of his overwhelming arousal has become so clear that anyone who glanced his way would know.
Ed’s final blow lands directly over Izzy’s dripping cunt and he sobs into Bonnet’s silken fucking sheets. He trembles.
Splaying himself over Izzy’s back, trailing a finger up his upper arm, over the quivering skin, Ed’s lips brush over the shell of Izzy’s ear again. “Good.”
Izzy swallows. “Thank you, Captain.” His voice is raspy, pathetic. It hurts to hear it. Ed bites down on Izzy’s shoulder, just hard enough that Izzy wonders if he’s planning to break the skin, and then he lets go. He reattaches just to the left, closer to Izzy’s throat, pulling at the skin before releasing it, his teeth scraping over it as he pulls off.
“Look at that, Iz. I own you.”
“Yes, Captain,” Izzy says, voice hardly more than a whisper. His skin feels as if it’s been set alight, burning, flames dancing just under the surface. Ed must be able to feel it when he touches him, must be able to feel the way his every touch sends Izzy closer to the inevitable edge.
“Do you want to come, Iz?” Ed asks, tone almost bored. Conversational.
“Please,” Izzy whispers. “Please, Captain.”
Ed hums. He trails a hand back down Izzy’s spine, over his bound wrists, caressing the heated flesh of Izzy’s ass. “Are you close, Iz?”
Izzy nods furiously into the sheets. “Yes, yeah, close.”
There’s the ghost of a touch over his cock again and it throbs with want, his cunt clenching around the empty space inside of him. Izzy whines. He doesn’t see the blow coming, Ed withdrawing his hand less than a quarter of a second before he smacks his palm down on Izzy’s cunt once more, the wet hit echoing in Izzy's ears as he cries out, tears soaking the blindfold. With no time for reprieve, Ed shoves two fingers to the hilt inside of Izzy. There’s no resistance, they slide home with ease, crooking with practiced ease against Izzy’s walls. It’s too much and not enough at the same time and Izzy wants to scream.
Ed withdraws his hand once more, and then there’s the wet sound of him sucking his own fingers off. Untouched, with no hands on him, the wave building inside of Izzy recedes again. The edge moves back out of his reach. Izzy’s breathing begins to slow back to a normal rate as he pants against Bonnet’s bed. The blindfold is damp around his eyes but Izzy can’t bring himself to care.
Gently, Ed’s hands return to his ass, massaging the burning skin there lightly before pulling up. “Up on the bed, Iz.”
Izzy heaves a sigh and forces his trembling legs back under him to support his weight. With Ed’s calloused hands on his thighs, Izzy makes it onto the bed, perched on his knees, face still pressed into the sheets. Ed’s hands spread Izzy open, cool air sending goosebumps erupting over his entire body. Izzy shudders, pressing his face further into the sheets as Ed’s thumbs stroke through the wet mess between his legs, lightly ghosting over his cock and sending a hot bolt of lightning up Izzy’s spine. He feels Ed’s weight shift mere seconds before a warm, wet tongue licks up the length of him, from his cock to his ass, as Izzy sobs into the sheets again, legs trembling.
It feels as if Ed is entertaining himself thoroughly by exploring the reactions Izzy’s body has to his manipulations, drawing an array of noises from somewhere deep inside of Izzy’s chest until his throat is raw. Ed sinks two fingers inside of him with no warning, tongue dancing around them at the edge of his entrance. The fingers curl once, twice, and then disappear. Ed removes his mouth at the same time, sinking his teeth into one side of Izzy’s ass instead and Izzy howls.
“Alright, alright,” Ed soothes, flattening his palm over the bite and petting the skin. “You’re okay, Iz, you’re doing so well.”
Izzy can’t respond with his face shoved into the bed the way it is, so he settles for a broken sob as Ed continues to massage his ass, every so often spreading him open and ghosting his fingertips over him again. The bed shifts again beneath him as Ed moves, changing the position Izzy’s in so that his ass is further in the air, his knees bent under him and spread apart—spread open, easily accessible. Izzy whimpers. All the soft things beneath him make the position Izzy finds himself in more than bearable, even with how sore his muscles already are. He presses his face into the blankets, letting the bedding block some of the air flow to his lungs, and his field of awareness narrows down to Ed’s hands at his back, testing the knots pinning Izzy’s own wrists to the small of his back as he adjusts Izzy’s legs again and again. He tugs at the bonds out of habit, testing their strength as Ed does—though Ed’s never anything but more than adept at knots. Ed pats his bare ass, scratching lightly at the skin.
“Oh, Israel.” Izzy jumps at the words. Bonnet. What the fuck? What the fuck. “Oh, you look beautiful.”
Izzy tenses, pulling away from the gentle touch on his cheek, only to feel a firm hand pressing into his back and holding him in place. Bonnet’s hand cups his jaw, turning his head so that his cheek presses into the sheets. One final squeeze to his jaw and Bonnet’s hand moves again, long fingers carding through his hair, tugging strands free from the blindfold and scratching gently over his scalp. The bed dips as Bonnet situates himself at Izzy’s head.
“What the fuck?” Izzy finally spits out. “Get out, Bonnet.”
“Izzy,” Ed says sharply from where he’s sitting at Izzy’s feet. “Behave.”
“No, Ed, what the fuck?” Izzy tugs more insistently at the ropes holding his wrists behind his back. “Why is he here?”
“Oh, Ed, I can le—”
“Shut up, Stede, sit down.” Ed’s voice gets close as he leans over Izzy, his mouth close enough to Izzy’s ear that his breath raises the hair on the back of Izzy’s neck. “Are you going to behave, Iz, or do I need to untie you and let you handle yourself?”
“I didn’t sign up for him to be here,” Izzy growls through gritted teeth.
“No,” Ed agrees. “And yet, you know how to get out of these ropes if you need to. I notice you’re still very much tied up.”
Izzy fidgets, clenching and unclenching his fists. Bonnet’s fingers begin to move in his hair again, continuing their light massage of his scalp. When Izzy doesn’t respond immediately, the hand begins to withdraw, and Izzy finds himself tilting his head to chase the touch. Bonnet gives it to him immediately, stroking over Izzy’s head.
The bed jostles as Ed pulls away, sitting back at Izzy’s feet again. He strokes down the backs of Izzy’s thighs, scratching through the hair there. At Izzy’s knees, he pushes them further apart, spreading Izzy back open, and Izzy lets out a shaky breath.
Breath ghosts over Izzy’s cheek as Bonnet must hunch over him. “I’ll leave if you don’t want me here, Israel. This is to help you relax—if I’m making you more tense…” He trails off, but Izzy knows where he was going with the sentiment.
He shakes his head. “It’s fine.”
“Are you certain?”
“Yeah,” Izzy rasps. He clears his throat. “Stay. If you—if you want.”
“Thank you, Israel,” Bonnet says, voice soft. He scratches over Izzy’s scalp again as a reward, and goosebumps erupt down Izzy’s spine. “You look exquisite, you know.”
That does something to Izzy’s brain. Ed, though never too harsh, has never been one for praising Izzy. Not on nights like these. And it had never crossed Izzy’s mind that he could even want it. The soft moan that lets out on a gentle sigh is entirely involuntary, but it only earns him the reward of Stede continuing to scratch at his scalp and the nape of his neck. Ed’s hands make their way over the swell of Izzy’s ass, holding him spread apart—appraising him, most likely.
Even with so many hands on him, Izzy feels desperate to be touched.
With deft fingers, Ed reaches between Izzy’s legs and trails over Izzy’s cock, too light to offer friction or be anything more than a tease. Izzy whines, canting his hips back. Stede’s fingers tighten in his hair, holding his head still. Ed repeats his movements, sliding his fingers back to brush over Izzy’s entrance and carry some of his slick forward, though he already feels like he must be dripping all over Bonnet’s silken fucking sheets.
Without warning, Ed buries two fingers to the hilt inside Izzy and his entire body jolts, the top of his head smashing into the side of Stede’s thigh. Stede moves the hand not buried in Izzy’s hair to cup his jaw, lifting his head and resting it on top of his quite frankly absurdly muscular thighs. He keeps his hand around Izzy’s chin, his thumb moving in slow circles through the wiry facial hair there, moving over his bottom lip with every few movements. Ed curls his fingers inside Izzy, stroking at his walls and thumbing over his cock as he moves.
“Stede,” Ed murmurs, clearly more focused on the task at hand than addressing Stede. The lack of attention directed at Stede makes Izzy flush. “Give him something to keep his mouth occupied.”
“Why?” Stede asks, his thumb pausing in its ministrations on Izzy’s face. “He’s not talking.”
“No,” Ed agrees with a hum. “But I’m about to make him scream.”
“Ah. Well, alright.” Stede taps Izzy on the cheek. “Israel, would you mind lifting your head for me? Won’t be but a moment.”
Izzy groans but does as instructed, lifting his head and allowing Stede to stand. There’s the rustling of clothes as Stede presumably gets out of his pants before the bed dips once more and Stede’s hand is back in Izzy’s hair, guiding him back down. The silk fabric of Stede’s insufferable trousers is gone and Izzy’s cheek brushes warm, bare skin. He shudders.
“Open up, Iz,” Ed commands, his fingers not slowing for even a moment. Izzy allows his jaw to fall open, allowing Stede to guide him down, down onto his cock, muffling any embarrassing noises that may have threatened to escape Izzy’s throat.
“Now, I know you already know, but perhaps a reminder just in case— please refrain from biting down on my cock, Israel, I would be incredibly put out.” Izzy rolls his eyes beneath his blindfold, relieved momentarily for its protection. “And don’t roll your eyes at me, please. I’m sure Ed wouldn’t mind reminding you to be good.” Ed’s fingers curl cruelly inside him and Izzy gags on Stede’s length, nearly choking. Stede lifts him off enough to allow him to breathe. “That’s it. Beautiful.”
“Do you want to fuck his face or want him to be still?” Ed asks, voice washing over Izzy like a tide. “Might be more fun to challenge him.”
Stede hums. “I’d quite like to see him be good, after all—” He bends down, speaking directly into Izzy’s ear. “—I can’t fuck him if I come down his throat.” Izzy whines low in his throat and swallows involuntarily around Stede’s cock. The man tsks. “Israel, what did I just say?”
From where he’s perched at Izzy’s feet, Ed laughs. He withdraws his fingers slowly, trailing slick down the insides of Izzy’s spread thighs. The sensations of being touched overwhelm Izzy, from Stede’s taste on his tongue and his musk settling into Izzy’s lungs to the way Ed’s fingers skirt over Izzy’s skin, setting his nerve endings alight. He allows himself to sink further into the other two men, Stede scratching along his scalp and murmuring somewhat quietly to Ed, and Ed holding him open, stroking occasionally over his cock. Ed’s fingertips trail slowly, feather-light down from his cock and over his entrance, then to his ass, pressing softly. Izzy sighs before Stede drags him lower, his cock sliding deep into Izzy’s throat once more.
There’s the cool sensation of something wet being poured over his most sensitive parts, Ed’s fingers still moving slowly in circles, and Izzy trembles. His eyes water and his head floats, Stede’s hands dragging him back off of his cock enough to breathe once more as Ed spreads the oil around where Izzy already lies open and waiting. He lets himself be malleable, sinking into the freedom of relinquishing control, allowing Ed and Stede to do with him as they wish. Stede’s fingers knotted in his hair, moving his head languidly every so often; Ed’s hands between his legs, exploratory and thorough. They’re still talking to one another, words like lovely permeating the haze in Izzy’s mind every so often.
When Ed finally breaches his ass, Izzy sobs onto Stede’s cock and both men freeze, Ed holding his fingers impossibly still. Izzy’s body trembles, taut, balanced right on a precipice. He aches to go over, to go tumbling off, if only Ed would move.
“Israel,” Stede says sharply, breaking through Izzy’s thoughts. “Be good.”
Izzy whimpers as the edge disappears from his grasp once more. He collapses against the bed, choking himself on Stede’s cock and blaming the motion for the tears soaking the blindfold. He aches for release, having been brought to the edge and forced back so many times, and he whines around Stede where he’s buried in his throat.
“Good job, Iz,” Ed praises, voice rough. There’s a light pressure on Izzy’s tailbone, Ed’s beard scratches over his skin and Izzy’s skin vibrates beneath the touch. He presses his hips back into Ed, trying to entice him to move lower—to put his mouth where it matters.
“I think he wants your mouth, Edward,” Stede murmurs, grinding his hips up lightly into Izzy’s throat. “And he’s being so good about it.” Izzy moans softly around the cock in his throat because he is being good. He deserves a reward.
The new growth of Ed’s beard scratches over Izzy’s ass and he wonders briefly if it might leave marks he’ll still feel in the morning. Teeth sink into Izzy’s asscheek and he groans, the noise muffled into Stede’s skin and the man above him chuckles, still thrusting lazily in and out of Izzy’s throat. Ed’s fingers twist and curl inside him and he feels somehow overwhelmed and neglected at the same time—held just off the cusp of orgasm. He clenches involuntarily around Ed’s fingers and Ed makes a noise somewhere low in his chest behind him. Izzy knows he must be dripping, leaking down his own thighs and onto Stede’s `
Ed speeds up as he moves his fingers in and out of Izzy at the same time that Stede begins to pick up the pace. Stede’s movements begin to cut off Izzy’s oxygen supply and combined with Ed’s movements, Izzy finds himself up against the edge far quicker than he has any right to be. He whines, fighting half-heartedly to pull off of Stede’s cock. He has to tell Ed that he’s close, he has to warn him, he has to be good—
Izzy tumbles over the edge before he can stop himself, Stede holding him down on his cock, the edges of his vision going fuzzy. Ed continues to fuck him through it, his entire body shaking and quivering like a leaf in a storm.
“And I didn’t even touch his cock,” Ed says to Stede, his voice sounding far away.
“He’s stunning,” Stede replies, slowly dragging Izzy off his cock and clearing his airway. “That was certainly a sight to behold. Is it always like that?”
Ed hums. “Just wait until the third.”
Izzy whines softly, his nose brushing Stede’s still-erect and spit-soaked cock. Stede cards fingers through his hair. “Sorry,” Izzy rasps out, his voice tearing itself from his throat. “I tried to—I couldn’t—Captain—”
Stede hushes him, tugging lightly at the ends of his hair. He feels the bed shift as Ed moves, rearranging and draping himself over Izzy’s back. The warmth of his body soaks through Izzy like a comfort, his presence grounding. Stede doesn’t stop moving his fingers in Izzy’s hair.
“You did just what I wanted, Iz,” Ed says softly, lips brushing Izzy’s ear. “You were so good. So pretty, falling apart for me like that.”
“You were gorgeous, Israel,” Stede chimes in. “Truly exquisite.”
“You didn’t come,” Izzy grates out. “You’re still hard.”
Stede makes a noise in his throat. “If I came just then, I wouldn’t be able to fuck you the way I plan to, Israel. This is about you, not about me, anyway.” Ed laughs at that, and then Izzy is bombarded by the slick sounds of his captains’ mouths on one another. He twitches involuntarily.
When the two men part, they maneuver Izzy onto his back, his arms pinned under his own bodyweight. The new position is less comfortable, but he imagines it will serve the purpose of keeping him grounded. He feels himself lifted up, his body weight shifted again to rest on top of Stede, his bound hands brushing Stede’s cock. There are lips against his neck, warm and slick, and then teeth grazing over the sensitive skin. Stede’s hands trail up his waist, cupping his chest, thumbing over his nipples. Ed’s hands rest on his bound thighs, tracing light patterns in the skin between the ropes, scraping gently through the hair there. Izzy allows his head to fall back, tipping onto Stede’s shoulder.
“I think I like you better like this, Israel,” Stede murmurs softly in his ear. “I can watch everything Edward does to you and even narrate—I can tell you exactly how divine you look as he takes you apart. And how beautiful you are, all tied up like this. I think you’re exquisite, really. And you’re being so good. Imagine how much better you’d feel if we helped you relax all the time, hm?”
And Izzy won’t let himself think about that. Stede doesn’t mean it. It’s fun, the sex, but it’s just sex. A method of handling Izzy—like training a dog. He’ll get Stede off and he’ll get Ed off and then they won’t touch him again until the next time he acts out and they have to put him back in his place. So it goes. His captains have one another for the everyday things. Izzy’s body is a special occasion fuck; a toy to use to let off a bit of steam. That’s okay. It’s how it’s always been. Though this may be the first time Ed has ever invited anyone else into their little routine, he can’t imagine things will be any different now. There’s no reason for them to be. He’s still just Izzy Hands. Nothing special.
“Stay with us, Izzy,” Stede says quietly. “Are we boring you?”
“No, Captain,” Izzy whispers. “Sorry, Captain.”
“There’s a good boy, Iz,” Ed mutters from between Izzy’s legs. “Respect gets you rewarded. How do you want your reward?”
Izzy doesn’t have to think about it. He already knows. “Want your mouth, Captain, please.”
Ed chuckles. “I can do that. Tell me when you’re close, Iz. Don’t want you coming again too soon, hm?”
Stede situates his hands solidly under Izzy’s thighs, holding him open, exposed to the room. There’s a stretch in Izzy’s hamstrings and he tries to focus on that as Ed’s hands continue to explore his body, and then his mouth is sealed to Izzy’s cunt, warm and wet. Every muscle in Izzy’s body tenses.
“Keep your legs open, Israel,” Stede scolds gently. “I do expect you to continue behaving for me.”
“F-fuck,” Izzy pants out, turning his face into Stede’s throat, his own breath ghosting back over his own face. “I—I’m—”
“I think he’s close already,” Stede murmurs over Izzy’s head. “You’d better give him a moment.”
Ed withdraws, hot breath dancing over Izzy’s entrance. “I’m better at this than I thought.”
Stede laughs, pressing his mouth to the top of Izzy’s head, sending goosebumps down Izzy’s spine. Ed strokes over Izzy’s cock with the pad of his thumb, Izzy’s entire body jerking. His body thrums with the touch, fighting between arching into it and pulling away simultaneously. Stede pulls his thighs further up, putting him on display. He wonders what Ed must be thinking—what the view looks like from where Ed’s still crouched between his legs. He catches his breath.
Releasing one leg, Stede smooths Izzy’s hair off of his forehead, brushing a light kiss to his temple. “He’s ready,” he tells Ed.
“‘Course he is,” Ed replies, and Izzy feels his beard scratch over the back of his thigh again. “He’s being good.”
“Please,” Izzy moans softly. Every nerve ending feels raw, like he’s going to burst into flame at any moment. He aches to be touched, to be taken apart, to be sent over the edge again. “Please, I need—”
“Quiet, Israel, let us work,” Stede snaps, though he follows it with another soft kiss. “You think we don’t know what you need?”
Before Izzy has time to answer, Ed is back on him, licking and sucking and burying his face in Izzy’s cunt like a man starved. Izzy wants to cry under the attention. His body trembles, Ed focusing his mouth on Izzy’s cock and sliding two fingers home inside of him. Izzy’s back arches, his shoulders digging into Stede’s chest, his hands clenching and unclenching against Stede’s lower stomach.
Ed makes noise after noise as he works Izzy over, the room filling with slick sounds and Ed’s own satisfied moans. He consumes Izzy like a delicacy, like that fucking marmalade he’s so obsessed with, like he can’t get deep enough.
“You should see him,” Stede murmurs against his ear. “Can you feel the way he’s holding you open? Can you feel his hand keeping you open so he can reach your cock?”
Yes, Izzy can. He can feel everything.
“He’s looking up at me now,” Stede continues, digging his fingernails into Izzy’s thighs. “He’s watching me while he sucks your cock, Israel. Are you jealous?” Izzy lets out a strangled noise, clenching down on Ed’s fingers. “Words, Israel.”
“No,” he grits out. “Think I’m—I’m getting the better end of the deal here.”
“Oh, darling,” Stede says—practically purrs— into Izzy’s ear. “I know you are.”
Izzy cries out as Ed crooks his fingers inside of him, petting along his walls. His entire body shakes and then Ed pulls back once more, leaning his head on Izzy’s thigh and tracing his entrance with his thumb. He lazily trails one finger in and out of Izzy’s cunt, avoiding his cock and scratching his nails through the damp thatch of curls. Izzy’s entire body quivers, taut as a bow as he calms down once more, the edge yet again becoming something unattainable. His chest heaves, Stede allowing his hands to wander once more.
“You should see the way he’s watching you, Israel,” Stede murmurs. “Looking at you like you’re his dinner.” He pauses. “Or the dessert after.”
“M’not—”
“Hush, Israel, behave.” Stede buries his face in Izzy’s throat, nipping at the skin and trailing after his teeth with his tongue.
Ed buries his tongue in Izzy’s ass with no preamble, dragging a ragged shout from Izzy’s throat. He slips a finger in alongside his tongue, slick with oil. Between Stede’s mouth on Izzy’s throat and Ed’s mouth on his hole, Izzy doesn’t know what to focus on or how to catch his breath. Every nerve ending in his body feels alight, like he might catch fire at any moment, intensity building in his stomach and swelling up into his chest. He has the inkling that he’s going to black out when he’s finally allowed to come and the thought sends sparks down his spine. Ed moves his tongue and fingers languidly in and out of Izzy, tugging at his rim and knocking Izzy’s cock with the tip of his nose.
Izzy doesn’t know what to focus on: the emptiness of his cunt or the sudden and almost overwhelming fullness of his ass. As if on cue, Stede reads his mind. Damn him.
“Are you feeling empty even while you’re full, Israel? Rather greedy of you.”
“M’not—this— fuck,” Izzy groans. He feels Stede laugh beneath him, his chest shaking under Izzy’s weight.
“Could I touch you?” Stede asks softly against Izzy’s ear. “Could I help Ed take you apart? One more and we’ll fuck you, you know.”
And it isn’t a question Izzy ever thought he would have to take into consideration, especially under such harrowing circumstances. Ed doesn’t slow his momentum at all, burying his tongue inside of Izzy with a vengeance like a man starved and Izzy’s brain is fuzzy at the edges. He notices, even in his almost-delirious state, that Stede makes no move for his cunt as he waits for Izzy’s response. His fucking gentlemanly respect, and his fucking patience, and for the love of all things good, Izzy wants the man inside of him.
“Yes, Bonnet, touch me— please!”
“Israel,” Stede says calmly. “What do you call me?” Ed’s motions slow.
“Captain, Captain, please, touch me.”
“Where?”
Izzy swallows, rocking down against Ed’s mouth. “My cock, my cunt, please, just—”
When Stede finally moves, it’s with an unexpected speed, and he’s burying three fingers inside Izzy’s cunt, curling them against his walls. “Good boy.”
This time when Izzy comes, the wet gush of liquid around Stede’s still-moving fingers is enough to have his entire body flush with embarrassment—but only until he fully processes that both Ed and Stede are still fucking him. Ed moves languid fingers in and out of Izzy’s ass, tugging at his rim, while Stede patiently pets over his walls, grinding the heel of his hand into Izzy’s far-too-sensitive cock. He wets his lips, entire body oversensitive and twitching at every touch.
Ed pulls away first, fitting his fingers back into Izzy’s hole and holding him open. Checking his handiwork, most likely. Izzy tries not to shy away from the gaze he knows Ed must have focused in on where he’s being held open and vulnerable, nothing left to the imagination. Stede thrusts his fingers lazily in and out of Izzy’s sore cunt, the slick sound grating on Izzy’s ears. He can’t imagine what he must look like to his captains, debauched and thoroughly fucked and purely at their mercy. A toy to be used. He allows his head to loll back onto Stede’s shoulder. For a brief, shining moment, he allows himself to wonder what it might be like if they really were to do this all the time.
A pressure at his hole startles him and he jerks his head back up.
“Stede’s gonna take your ass, Iz, and I’m gonna have your cunt,” Ed informs him, sliding two fingers in alongside Stede’s. “Or…”
“What?” Stede asks, his movements ceasing. “Or what?”
“Well,” Ed drawls, sliding a third of his own fingers in to accompany all three of Stede’s. “We’ve got his pussy just about fucked loose. I bet we can both fit in there.”
Stede is silent for a long moment and Izzy wonders if the two men are having one of their infamous silent conversations. Some part of him bristles. If anyone should be privy to the conversation about the plan going forward, it should be Izzy fucking Hands. He keeps his mouth shut.
Beneath him, Stede shifts slightly. He undoes the blindfold and the assault on Izzy’s vision disorients him for a moment, and when he blinks his vision clear, he finds his head turned to face Stede, whose brow is furrowed as he searches Izzy’s expression.
“This is a check-in, Izzy,” he says softly. Izzy darts his gaze toward Ed, who doesn’t react. Stede taps his cheek again and he looks back at the blond captain. “I need to know where you’re at with this before I am comfortable continuing.”
“I’m fine, Captain,” Izzy tells him, and is only slightly surprised to find that he’s telling the whole truth. Stede keeps his gaze fixed on Izzy’s and Izzy is determined to hold it, and he does. He inhales slowly. “Stede. I’m okay. I’m good.”
“Alright,” Stede says, a small smile twisting his lips. “I’m going to blindfold you again.” Izzy gives him a small nod, facing forward again, his eyes landing on Ed, crouched between his legs. Ed’s face is unreadable, though Izzy can’t discern anything negative from it before his vision goes dark once more. “Edward, where do you want me?”
“I want to be inside him with you, Stede. He can do it, can’t you, Iz?” Izzy hums, resting his head on Stede’s shoulder again.
“Words, Israel,” Stede murmurs.
“Yes, captains, I can do it.”
And then there’s shifting. Izzy is lifted, his hands free for just a moment, and then the blunt head of a cock presses firmly at his entrance. He shudders. Stede’s grip on his thighs tightens, nails digging into the meat of Izzy’s legs and he hisses as he’s lowered slowly onto Stede’s cock. Teeth sink into his shoulder. Stede’s cock is never ending and Izzy knows for a fact that it will be coming out of his throat by the time the man finally bottoms out.
There’s no way in hell Ed is going to fit at the same time.
As the long slide finally stops, Izzy realizes that the soft ringing in Izzy’s ears is coming from his own throat, and he wonders how long he’s been whining. Stede guides him to lay back against him once more, hands having returned to their previous position of holding his thighs up and open. He exhales shakily into Izzy’s shoulder, hands tensing and releasing. Hands that Izzy knows to be Ed’s find their way to where Izzy and Stede are joined, tracing around the exact seam of their bodies meeting. A finger slides in alongside Stede’s cock and both Izzy and Stede gasp in unison.
“Edward, please, I—” Stede protests, voice breathy.
“Shut up, Stede,” Ed replies sharply. Izzy tenses. “You should see the way he’s stretched around you. All up in your fuckin’ guts, isn’t he, Iz?”
“Yes, sir,” Izzy rasps out. “He’s so—he’s deep.”
“I bet.” Ed trails his hand up, flicking Izzy’s cock before scratching his nails through the thatch of curls around Izzy’s cunt, dragging his nails up over his pelvis. Then Ed stops, resting his hand flat. He presses down and Izzy gasps. “Go on, Stede. Fuck him.”
“Edward,” Stede begins reproachfully, but he cuts himself off. Izzy wonders what look Ed gave him that shut him up so quick. Lifting Izzy bodily, Stede offers one, two tentative thrusts. “Oh, Israel, you feel fucking divine.”
He sets a pace brutal enough to rival Ed’s, and Ed keeps his hand pressed against Izzy from the outside, forcing him to feel every press of Stede’s cock viscerally. Izzy’s head falls back, knocking against Stede’s shoulder, and Stede turns his face to pant into Izzy’s throat. Each movement knocks a new, guttural moan from Izzy’s throat that he can’t hope to control. He aches in the best way, surrounded by oversensitivity and newfound pleasure and the line between the both of them. He’s going to fall apart.
Ed’s hand disappears from where it was applying pressure and then there’s a new, sharp force at his entrance, splitting him apart as Ed pushes in next to Stede, stretching Izzy’s body open and putting it at their mercy. Izzy only becomes aware that he’s sobbing when Stede’s hand disappears from his thigh and makes its way to his cheek, crossing over Izzy’s own chest. He cups Izzy’s jaw and turns his head so that his cheek rests against Stede’s own and then he leaves it there in a devastating show of softness that Izzy has never asked for and certainly has never earned.
He lets himself revel in it regardless.
Stede holds him there, tightly to his body as if he’s concerned that Izzy might rebel, might disappear from his arms and his bed and never return. Izzy swallows against the thought, sobs wracking his body.
“Ed, I think it may be—”
“Shut up,” Izzy and Ed both growl. Stede’s teeth click audibly shut by Izzy’s ear.
“This is the whole release part of it, Stede, so either participate or let me handle him myself.”
Izzy feels Stede tense up beneath him. “I am being perfectly participatory—”
Ed groans, though it sounds more like a growl. “Stede, love. Handle him.”
Stede’s hand stays on Izzy’s cheek, but he thrusts up with a vicious, almost-cruel motion, and Izzy wails. Ed sinks fully to the hilt but wastes no time catching his breath, pulling back out almost immediately and matching Stede’s previous pace, though Stede slows back down to a deep grind. His hand slides slowly down Izzy’s jaw until it cups his throat, resting just under Izzy’s jawline, and squeezes. All of the tension in Izzy’s body disappears in a moment flat and he collapses into Stede. He feels so full, like he’s going to burst apart at the seams at any moment. Everything builds: the pressure on his throat, the tension low in his gut, the wire-taut arousal lightning-striking through his mind. And at the edges of it all, existence is fuzzy. He feels Ed lean down over him.
Ed’s hand joins Stede’s around his throat, his other hand bracing himself on the thigh Stede abandoned. If Izzy’s vision weren’t already obscured, he knows he would be seeing black regardless.
“You’ve always been such a perfect slut, Iz,” Ed pants, his thrusts sharp and deep. Stede is silent. “Look at you—taking two dicks like a fuckin’ champ, like a whore. Made to be our little toy, to be used. And you feel fuckin’ fantastic, doesn’t he, Stede? His greedy little cunt? How many orgasms—three? Four? And you’re still fuckin’ soaked.”
Izzy’s hands are numb where they’re sandwiched between his body and Stede’s, his entire body rocking with every movement of Ed’s, the side of his face slamming against Stede’s over and over and over again. Everything is too much: the movement, the power, the overwhelming, unforgiving stretch of Izzy’s cunt around his two captains. He tenses up, his breath catching in his throat and his mind going blank to everything except the rising wave in his stomach, building and building and building. He aches—he can’t breathe, he’s so close, his chest hurts. He wonders, briefly, if anyone has ever had a heart attack from having too many orgasms in too short a timespan—if you can feel so much pleasure at once that there’s no way to withstand it.
He thinks, briefly, that he wouldn’t mind if that were the case.
“Alright, Israel,” Stede commands, next to his ear. “Come for us.”
“C’mon, Iz,” Ed reiterates, his hand coming down to Izzy’s cock. “C’mon.”
And oh, Israel Hands has never been one to disobey orders.
Thrown over the edge with a firm hand, Izzy cries out, his voice breaking. Every muscle he has locks up on him and he sees stars, unable to think of anything except the fire coursing through him and the sudden, overwhelming, life-altering release that finally settles over him. His ears ring, the voices of Ed and Stede both distant and muffled, and then suddenly—there’s nothing.
When Izzy comes back to himself, he finds his arms free, crossed over his chest and held firmly in place by Stede, whose chest is still pressed solidly to Izzy’s back. The very next thing he realizes is that he is still very much full of both of his captains and he groans softly. He opens his eyes, blurry vision immediately filled by an out of focus but still somehow ethereal Edward Teach. Izzy blinks rapidly, clearing his vision until Ed comes fully into focus, standing over him, watching his face closely. His own expression inscrutable.
Izzy tries to shift but his movements cease immediately as he’s reminded of the two cocks filling him nearly to the point of tearing. He shifts his gaze from Ed’s and turns, finding Stede’s.
“Israel,” he says, though he sounds strained. He says nothing else.
“What—” Izzy trails off, his voice destroyed. He swallows, turning back to Ed. “Fuck happened?”
Ed grips his chin, holding his face still. “You passed out when you came, Iz.”
Izzy blinks. “Right, I—yeah. Figured. And you’re…still inside me.” At the thought, his overworked cunt clenches involuntarily. There’s a groan at his back. “Why aren’t you moving?”
“We weren’t going to fuck you while you were passed out, Izzy!” Bonnet sounds appalled and Izzy raises his eyebrows at Ed, who shrugs.
“Freaked him out.” Ed draws slowly out, fucking back in, twin hisses rising from both Izzy’s and Stede’s throats. “But now you’re back…”
“Are you alright, Israel?” Bonnet asks.
“Fine, Captain.” Izzy fixes his eyes on Ed as Stede’s grip around his torso tightens. “Finish the job, then.”
Ed rolls his eyes, then sets into a brutal, bruising pace. He leans down, past Izzy, and then Izzy’s ears are full of the slick noises of being fucked into and the wet sounds of his captains trying to climb in each other’s mouths. Ed gets his hands on Izzy’s thighs and wrenches him lower, shoving Stede deeper and getting a better angle for himself, and Izzy’s eyes fill up with tears from the overstimulation.
It’s perfect.
“When we both fill you, Israel, then you’ll be claimed by us both, you know,” Stede grunts, voice pitchy. “You’ll truly belong to us.”
“Already do,” Izzy gasps, his head falling back. “Fuck—”
“Well, you belong to Ed—”
Izzy digs his nails into Stede’s arm. “I already belong to you both,” he grits out. And Stede comes. He tenses up, forcing himself as deep inside of Izzy as he can go, nearly crushing the smaller man with the way he clamps down on him. Izzy wonders if he’s going to pass out again.
This display works magic on Ed, who follows his co-captain over the edge with a seethed, “oh, fucking—”
Izzy shifts his hips and Ed pulls out slowly, though Stede doesn’t move. Ed looks past Izzy for a moment before he meets Izzy’s gaze again, then disappears into the adjoining bathroom. Though he knows it's in his head, Izzy can practically feel the mixed spend of his captains beginning to leak out of him, even over Stede’s slowly softening cock. Stede says nothing, still not moving.
Izzy clears his throat. “Are you—am—are you fucking alive?”
Stede hums, barely audible. “I don’t understand.”
“What don’t you understand?” Seriously, how was Stede’s fucking cock still inside of him?
“You said—you said you belonged to both of us already.” His voice sounds more vulnerable than Izzy has heard all evening. He swallows, and Stede continues. “But you—I mean—well. We all know I’m not your first choice of captain and you didn’t even want me to be here in the first place.”
“And?”
“So I…” Stede sighs, his grip on Izzy finally loosening. “I just don’t understand.” His voice is small as he makes to move away.
“Where the fuck are you going?” Izzy asks sharply.
“I thought—”
“Stop fucking moving.” Izzy inhales slowly through his nose. He’s going to have to talk to Stede face to face, and he has no desire to do so. He sighs, lifting himself up with a wince and climbing off of Stede. He lays next to him. Turning his face so he’s facing him. When he looks at Stede like this, all matted curls and flushed cheeks and slick lips, he gets it. “I’m not easy.”
Stede snorts, startled. “I should say not.”
Rolling his eyes, Izzy grasps Stede’s hand and guides it between his legs, settling it into Stede and Ed’s own combined mess, leaking out of Izzy and staining their goddamn marital bed. “But this is the dynamic. With him. And now—with you. I was yours the moment he picked you.”
Stede’s eyes widen and his gaze flicks between Izzy’s own face and where Stede’s fingers rest at the entrance to Izzy’s aching, soaked cunt. “So you…let me, er, make love to you.”
Izzy raises an eyebrow. “That what you’re calling that?”
Cheeks turning pink, Stede dips two fingers back inside of Izzy. “I suppose not,” he says softly.
“Look,” Izzy says, eyes closing slowly as his thighs fall open effortlessly to grant Stede easier access to explore his cunt, playing with the come leaking out of him. “Ed handles me sometimes. You get to now too. I’m a toy for you both to play with. So. Whatever.”
“Israel…” Stede trails off, and Izzy doesn’t open his eyes. Stede is quiet for a long time. Where the fuck is Edward? “You aren’t a toy,” Stede finally says, and Izzy can’t contain the bitter laugh that escapes him.
“Don’t lie to me, Bonne—”
“My name is Stede. Either address me by name or by title, but stop calling me by my godforsaken last name like my seed isn’t leaking out of you right now!” Izzy’s eyes shoot open, focusing back on Stede. “You aren’t a toy! You’re our first mate, and you’re very important to us, and I do not appreciate you belittling your own place in our lives and our relationship!”
“I don’t have a place in your relationship, Stede, I’m here to provide holes for you and your lover to stick your dicks in when you need to blow off some steam.” Though the words may be bitter on their own, Izzy finds that he doesn’t have any fight in him. While nice to pretend that he’s cared for during the act of being fucked, he finds that now…well. Israel Hands has never been a man made to be loved. “It’s not—it’s fine. I had fun. You had fun.” He turns his face back to the ceiling. “Doesn’t have to mean anything.”
Izzy’s body aches. His cunt throbs. His throat is certainly bruised and there are rope burns all over his arms and thighs. Everything hurts, not the least of which is the knowledge that he will be falling asleep tonight alone. He sits up.
“Just—let me change and I’ll be out of your hair.”
“Lay down, Iz.” Izzy hadn’t realized Ed had returned, and he whips his head up to find him standing in the doorway, holding what appears to be a shapeless pile of fabric. “Fuckin’...aftercare, and shit.”
“Aftercare,” Izzy repeats. He turns to look at Stede, who glances at him before looking away again.
“Ah, yes, I had rather hoped…I had planned for you to spend the night.” Stede sits up, accepting a golden mass of fabric from Ed, who tosses an offensive fuschia number over his old shoulder. Ed holds out a dark green pile of fabric toward Izzy, who feels suddenly unbearably numb. “I am not a fan of these…rough evenings when there is no time set aside afterward to ensure all parties feel satisfied.”
Izzy stares blankly at the fabric. “Fuck’s this.”
Ed rolls his eyes, manipulating the fabric until it opens up, reaching for Izzy’s arm. “It’s a robe, Iz. Stop being a dick.”
“M’not being a dick,” Izzy argues automatically, his voice nothing more than an almost-inaudible rasp. “I just—”
“You can talk to us, Izzy,” Stede says quietly as he stands, reaching into a cabinet that appears out of nowhere on the wall. “We want to all be on the same page.”
“We want you here,” Ed says, not meeting Izzy’s eye. “Not just—not as a toy.”
“As a person,” Stede adds. He kneels in front of Izzy on the floor, a cloth in his hand. He goes about carefully wiping Izzy down, removing the spilled come from between his thighs as Ed finishes wrapping the robe around Izzy’s shoulders. “As—as you.”
“As me.” Izzy repeats. He isn’t familiar with this part of the game. “Is this something you get off on, Captain, I mean—what—”
Stede huffs. “No, Israel, I just think it would be nice if the three of us were able to explore the kinds of incredible things we might have if we all work together! The intercourse is clearly spectacular, and we just—we—I—for fuck’s sake, Izzy, let us take care of you!”
Izzy throws his hands up, gesturing at the robe. “I am!”
“Always!” Ed interrupts. “Always take care of you! And you of us! Just—all of us. Together.”
“Together.”
“He keeps repeating us, Edward, do you think we—”
“God, Stede, shut up,” Izzy says, suddenly overcome with exhaustion. “I’m just fucking tired. Tell me what the fuck it is that you want from me.”
Still crouched between his legs, Stede rests his hands on Izzy’s thighs, thumbs moving in small circles. Ed comes to sit beside him on the couch, gesturing for Stede to speak, and after a few moments, the blond captain does. “We want to take care of you all the time, Israel. And not just in bed—though I think that might have worked beautifully if you weren’t so wound up now— but in…life, I suppose. Or—we’d like to see how it goes.”
Izzy turns to look critically at Ed. “You want to handle me.”
Ed grins suddenly, pulling Izzy in and kissing his temple. “Consider yourself handled, mate. Imagine how much less stressed you’ll be if we do this once a week, huh? The three of us. Besides,” he turns his head away from Stede, speaking directly into Izzy’s ear in a low growl. “I’d say he handled you pretty fuckin’ well, and I’d say you liked it pretty fuckin’ much.”
Cheeks flushing, Izzy finds Stede’s gaze again and only finds open earnestness there. “Fine,” he says. His other captain lights up.
“Really?”
“You mean it, Iz?” Ed says, leaning away to see Izzy’s entire face. “Because if you’re just saying it because we’re the captains—”
Izzy rolls his eyes. “No, fuck. It’s—okay. I want to—see how it goes. I guess.”
Stede squeezes his thighs and stands. “Will you stay the night? Roach is delivering snacks before he retires for the evening, and I’d really like to—”
Izzy interrupts him. “Yeah, I’ll stay the night.”
Ed bumps his shoulder with his own. “Will you stay forever?”
Izzy looks between his captains in their massive, shapeless, sails of robes, and the way both men look flushed and happy. He glances around the room, at their belongings scattered around, at the furnishings they’d found and built and decided on together—all with Izzy’s help. The furniture Izzy helped build. The paintings Izzy picked out from ships before they set them alight. The clothes that belong to Izzy, folded on the floor. He looks around the room that belongs to his captains, already so well-marked by Izzy.
He looks back at his captains, at Stede, who looks cautiously hopeful, and then to Ed, whose shoulder still brushes his own. “I’ll consider it,” he finally says. And for what it’s worth, it must be good enough, because a grin like daybreak comes across Ed’s face, crinkling the corners of his eyes.
Later that night, after he’s been force-fed snacks and a full pitcher of water and had all his rope burns covered in an aloe-paste, Izzy looks up at the dark ceiling, surrounded by his captains—Ed’s head on his chest, his own head on Stede’s, Stede’s arm beneath his neck and knotted in Ed’s hair, Ed’s arm over his torso so his head lays over Stede’s heart—and Izzy thinks: yeah. It’s good enough.